Tag Archives: Adolescents

Parenting a Young Adult

This last month of staying at home with Hope has been hard for me. She has been testing limits in ways that are new. It’s normal; it’s age appropriate, and I hate it.

Since the ‘stupid games’ episode, Hope seems to have forgotten a number of truths: I no longer trust her because she lied. I rarely forget. We are not roommates; I am her mother.

This week Hope announced her plans to me on a number of occasions. She was going to the outlet to shop for shoes (Ok, she really needed shoes). She was going on an all day date (Oh really? Did we forget we were supposed to be experiencing the consequences of stupid decisions?) She was taking the car to go out on Friday.

This is where I drew the bright line. Hella irritated by these declarations brought on by Hope’s trying on of adulthood, I said no. I initiated a conversation about how I’m trying to give her space to develop some independence, but I needed her to reframe her declarations to requests. We ain’t roommates; that’s my car and she needed to ask to use it. There are still expectations of a curfew and I fully expect to be told where she’s going.

That conversation was several days ago, and I’m still struggling with Hope. She is a good kid, but she is wildly immature. She recently ordered about $100 of slime.

SLIME, y’all. 🙄 A sophomore in college and binge spending on slime. Woooosawww. Ok.

When you see those kinds of purchases rolling into the house and then get *told* about how your car will be used without any consideration about any plans you might have… Well it’s triggering.

I’m committed to not yelling, to discussing things like adults and to coming to positive resolution. Yeah, all that. But real talk, I didn’t issue any ‘declarative statements’ to my parents until I was living completely independently with my own address in another zip code. This version of young adulting is foreign to me, and I. Don’t. Like. It.

I can’t even get Hope to do the chores I ask of her when I ask, so my emotional struggle these last few weeks has me hot under the collar. Lots of deep breaths.

I have tried explain my response to these shenanigans. I have attempted to articulate my communications needs. I have tried to find some grace, especially since I only have another month with my daughter before she heads back to campus. But, real talk, I’m seriously annoyed.

And what’s even more annoying? There only so much I can do. I’m super conscious of that. This is a gray area. I need to offer some rules and guidance— less of the former and more of the latter. I’m trying to grow the trust (super hard lately) and independence while insisting on respect for me, this home and my things. I’m also hyper aware that there are things I would never do to Hope, like threaten to put her out. I did tell her that if she wanted to do all the things she thinks she’s grown enough to do, she might make plans to get and finance her own apartment next summer since somethings just ain’t ever going down here. That said this will always be home, but it comes with some rules.

I’m struggling, and the more I struggle the more irritated I become. I worry that this conflict will engulf us. I need to avoid that, but I need Hope to find her emerging lane and promptly get in it.

I’m really worried about Hope going back to school next month, what with the pandemic and all. That said, I am looking forward to missing her a bit. I’m ready for a parenting-cation.

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Keeping it Real

We are in the mid-teen stretch. Band season has started, and school starts in another week. Hope and I are, as always, trying to find our way in the world.

Recently we were out doing some school shopping. We needed to pick up all kinds of things, and the next thing I know Hope wants to talk about really personal stuff.

She wants to have the conversation at Target on a busy afternoon and not with an inside voice. It’s always Target. Seriously that damn bullseye.

Seriously

I really started talking to Hope about sex about two years ago. I decided early that I wanted to be the mom that she could talk to about anything. We have our own little code for initiating these conversations—our code tells the other that this is a time for grace, no super emotional drama, no attacks, no drama. We focus on facts, but I do get to share my opinion as long as it is presented respectfully and focuses on helping her with her decision making and not imposing my will. My daughter has survived a lot of things; I want to be her ally. I want her to make good, informed decisions. I want to teach her values, and help her understand how values play out in your life. I also wanted to deliberate about promoting body and sex positivity.

All of this isn’t just laying groundwork; it’s about rewiring. My daughter is still young, but there are some really icky things that are in her original wiring that need some work. So, I work hard to be positive.

I also think it’s been important to talk about agency, choices, emotions, and control. Often during these conversations, I find myself recounting my observations about some of her decisions—not critical, not saying they were wrong, just how I read them and how other people might read them. I also share what I think the motivation might have been. It also makes me reflect on my own life and choices; I find myself reframing my own life lessons and distilling them for her.

I love that Hope feels like she can talk to me about this stuff. I didn’t have these kinds of chats with my parents. That’s no shade on them; Hope and I have a bit of a different situation because of her history. Every now and then she will mention that she had these confabs with her friends and she will say that the kids wished their parents were able to talk to them. #winning

So, how did our conversations start? Well, I came up with some logical statements that I thought would meet my daughter where she is at any given time. They are also so simplistic that sometimes they make us giggle—not just because of the subject matter but because the statements should be obvious on their face.

ABM’s Logical Relationship & Sex Chat Mottos

  • Relationship status (monogamous and committed) should be clear before considering physical activity that goes beyond a hug and a peck on the cheek. Know where you stand.
  • Potential partners should care about your physical, emotional and spiritual well-being, and you should be able to tell they care in their word and deed.
  • If you are too afraid to ask where you stand, then things might be moving too fast and/or there is evidence that you’re not moving in the same direction towards a monogamous and committed relationship.
  • Take your time, you are not a Monarch butterfly with the life cycle of 2-6 weeks. You have a lifetime to live; there is no need to rush into any decisions or *make* anything happen (especially by the homecoming dance).
  • It’s good to be courted; yes, it makes you feel vulnerable and not in control. The upside is you deserve to be treated well and cherished.
  • Know how physical expression fits into what you believe spiritually; does your partner know that about you? Do they share your values? Is there a disconnect and if so is that a deal breaker?
  • It’s good to know where your boundaries are before you bump up against them and are in a situation that is too much for you. Figure out where your “bases” are before you are on the “field.”
  • Consent is essential for both parties. If you don’t discuss it, you can’t definitively say you have given it or received it. If it’s not talked about directly then you have a slippery slope in the moment that may result in activity that isn’t what you really you want.
  • Your body is yours; own your agency. If your partner doesn’t get that, take a pass; they aren’t worth it. Also, your mom is crazy, so…there’s that.
  • If you are embarrassed to say the words vagina and penis in a sentence, you are probably not mature enough to get together with someone and use yours for expression and entertainment.
  • If you can’t have a chat about previous history and hook ups, then you aren’t close enough to the person to bump uglies.
  • If buying condoms or any other kind of protection is mortifying consider how mortifying it might be to see the family doctor to discuss your new friends “itchy, scratch and oozy.” Pregnancy might be the least of your worries.
  • Physical attraction can be really intense; so much so that it can make you do dumb ish that you think is ok until the morning or moment after. That time can be really crazy—you and your partner’s connection make the difference between it being a walk of shame or basking in some dumb romantic novel scene.
  • Focus on the bigger picture. Sex is a physical activity that is as much expression as exercise. It should fit into something else; not be free standing. It shouldn’t stand alone; it was never intended to be and  we know that from our spiritual references and because of our emotional reaction to sex. Keep focusing on the big picture and understanding what a healthy relationship will look like for you. Thinking about sex first is backwards in the decision making process.

So that’s where we are these days. I’d love to hear how other families are navigating their chats about sex and relationships. I think Hope and I have a good thing going. I smiled when she said recently that she had reflected on something I said at a critical moment. I just want her to feel confident about herself and her choices.

So, what strategies have worked well with your family?


The Elements

I grew up listening to Earth, Wind and Fire. My parents love music and exposed my siblings and me to some of the best disco, funk, and R&B out there as we grew up. Earth, Wind and Fire were special though with positive vibes, love songs and the sheer volume of hits they created. I loved them and continue to love them.

I went to my first EWF concert when I was a freshman in college. I took my mom. Maurice White was no longer touring with the group, though he occasionally would make a drop-in appearance. I remember rocking out with my mom and seeing the lights on her face from the show. I remember mom saying she hoped Maurice would drop into this show; it was like she was a young woman swooning over a famous crush. I remember it being such a fun time for us.

My daughter also loves EWF; her father loved the band and played their music often. Hearing an EWF song triggers happy memories of her time with her dad. When I heard the group was on tour with Nile Rodgers and Chic, and that they were coming to DC, I thought I’d invest in some floor seats and take Hope. It would be a good time for sure and also give us the good feel memories in the process.

So last night, my daughter and I met up for a yummy pre-concert dinner at a favorite restaurant of mine and headed out to boogie the night away.

If you are a fan of Earth, Wind and Fire and they are coming to your town on this tour—get your fanny to that arena and get your swerve on. Seriously, it was an amazing concert. The spectrum of people present was amazing. There was glitter, drunk folks, dandies, 70’s style headbands, whistles, ponchos—the people watching alone was worth the price of admission.

But the music…oh the music was EVERYTHING.

Hope and I rocked out. We screamed! We sang along. We smiled! We shimmied. We had an amazing time.

Hope was fast asleep before we could get out of the parking garage and in the bed before I could get back from walking the dog after we got home.

We boogied until we couldn’t boogie anymore.

Towards the end of the show the band did a lovely tribute to the late Maurice White. familyreunion

And the light hit Hope’s face the way it did with my mom 20+ years ago.

familyreunion

And…I got to thinking about my parents and Hope and her dad.

I reveled in my memories with my parents, dancing in the family room, turning the volume up in the car, looking at my dad’s army pictures when he was clearly grooving to good music. I found myself just oozing gratitude about having had them my whole life, how we shared these memories together, how The Elements were one of many parts of the soundtrack of our lives together.

I looked over at Hope who was swaying and singing. She smiled at me. I smiled back and thought about how much I wished she had had a longer time to build memories with her biological parents, how a whole series of episodes separated them, how at least she has these good memories that clearly bring her joy. I thought about how it just isn’t fair that my sisters and I have enjoyed our biological family having never known anything else, having never known the kind of upheaval Hope has, having taken for granted how easily things could have been different.

Life isn’t fair, and yet somehow Hope and I have been put together with a thread of music that helps us find common ground. We both get a chance to create these important memories. It doesn’t make up for the losses that Hope has experienced, but it does allow us to build from where we find ourselves.

“Ohhhh, this is one of my dad’s favorite songs.”

I smile and tell her it’s one of my dad’s favorites too.

There are only 3 original members still touring these days; they are all pushing 70 so I don’t know how many more tours there will be. I’m glad I took my daughter to see this one. I know that she will tell her friends and she will create legends about last night. I’ll look forward to reminiscing about last night with her 20 years from now as she tells her kids about last night. I hope we’ll both talk about our parents and what they loved about the music too.

That’s the way of the world.

 


Triggers, Triggers Everywhere

Hope’s life is a filled with trigger land mines. I’ve learned where most of them are; every now and then a new one will pop up. I make a mental note and try to just push on.

giphy1

It’s hard though because sometimes I feel like I have to give up some aspect of my life in order to avoid triggering her.

Sure, parenting is full of sacrifices. There’s always something, right? I try to remember that someday I’ll get to live fully again, but the reality is that I know that this parenting thing is life altering. Once some things are gone, they are just gone. I won’t go back to them. There are simple luxuries that I miss, like not having the same sad story told a million times because we stumbled over a trigger.

I mean, yes, I get it. Yes, I try to appropriately respond; yes, I know that it’s a good sign that Hope feels comfortable enough to tell me and share things over and over again.

All of that is true, but it doesn’t mean it doesn’t grate on my nerves. #realtalk

So, of course the end of the year holidays are a trigger-fest.

Trigger, here!

Trigger, there!

Trigger, trigger everywhere!

It’s exhausting.

So, Christmas Eve, Hope and I open presents (or rather I open my 1 present, she opens her 25 presidents). This kid has a vendetta against headphones. She breaks every pair that she take possession of, even the borrowed ones. After buying her what feels like 872 pairs this year, I ponied up and bought her a decent pair of over the ear headphones. They have bells and whistles and were reasonably priced at Ross.

Cool. She oohh and ahhh’d.  And then it came….

“I used to have a pair of blue Skull Candy headphones, but a foster parent took them from me. I got them at a giveaway and she really liked them so she just took them.” Hope frowned as she was looking at the box of new headphones.

I’ve heard this story many times. It’s one of the reasons I went with over ear headphones rather than more earbuds. I guess I knew it would trigger her, but I thought maybe she might  have moved a little bit forward. #nope

She hadn’t. So I prompted her to, “Yes, sweetie, I know that was hard for you. Someone took your stuff and that wasn’t right. Now you have a new pair of headphones that are really nice. I won’t take them from you. They are yours forever.”

“I know…but…she…” “No, Hope, look forward, you’re missing out on opening that box and checking out the ones in your hand, right now. They are yours. This is real.”

It took her 2 days before she opened the box to really take a look at them.

sigh.gif

Sister M has a new dog, a gorgeous, 6 month old pit bull puppy who is goofy as all get out.

Trigger alert.

wrappers

“I had a red nosed pit bull puppy once. She was pretty. She was supposed to be mine. But they gave him to my dad’s girlfriend’s son. He was supposed to be mine.”

I’ve heard this story what feels like 1000s of times.

“Yes, Hope. I know that was rough. You lost so much stuff along the way. I’m sure the puppy was special to you. I know that she can’t really be replaced, but remember that you have a family now and Yappy is a part of our family. Aunt M’s dog is a part of the family too. We will go visit him and one day, when you’re grown you can get your very own puppy.”

“I know but that puppy…she was mine.”

sigh

“Yes, I know sweetie.”

At the jewelry show…”I want a watch like my dad’s.” We visited 10 watch booths. None had an exact replica of her father’s watch, which she seems to have trouble describing.

I was pleased to see that this year she didn’t cry when we didn’t find the watch.

Could we find a watch “kinda” like it? Was this one close enough?

Nope. It needed to be exactly like her father’s watch.

sigh

After three years, I’ve gotten much better at being compassionate and empathetic during these moments, but that doesn’t mean that they don’t also trigger a place in my own brain that screams, “Oh God when will we be able to move past this?????”

Of course, it’s only been three years after how many difficult one’s she had? Um, yeah, more than 3, quite a few more than 3, so I guess I had better get over myself.

But the repetition, the triggers, they always make me feel like we aren’t making progress. I know that’s not true, but it’s hard. You push through to some new stuff and you feel like your kid is doing the dang thing and whoops, you trip over a rock and out comes the story you’ve heard a million times complete with all the emotion that was there the first time you heard it.

It’s a bit demoralizing.

More than anything I want Hope to heal from her trauma. I know that this is part of getting there. But I’m impatient, easily annoyed and occasionally, really selfish.

The truth is that in many ways these three years feel like I’ve lived a whole lifetime because there’s been so much upheaval. I’ve got a lot more gray hair. I’m carrying another 20 15lbs or so. I’m tired. I’m on more antidepressants. I have more crinkles around my eyes. I feel like 10 years have passed.

On the other end of the spectrum, this time has flown by. I struggle to remember how many Christmas’ we’ve been a family. It’s hard to believe that The Furry One has been gone nearly 2 ½ years and that Yappy has been with us for all of our Christmas’s. I’m shocked that it seems just yesterday I was enrolling Hope in 7th grade and now she’s in 10th.

The journey has my sense of time all jumbled up, which also makes my expectations of Hope’s healing speed a bit messy as well. Why isn’t she healing from the trauma as quickly as it feels like I’m aging while trying to help her heal from the trauma????

The upside in all of this is that I know what most of the triggers are, and now, Hope is stronger and can talk to me about her triggers. That’s progress. Actually, that’s a lot of progress.

While I can see and acknowledge all this progress; It’s still true that side stepping Hope’s land mines is hard, exhausting work. Both things are true. Being there for her isn’t always easy. It’s just not. Wishing that I didn’t have to hear the stories for the zillionth time is still true.

But I’ll listen for as long as it takes.


And Stuff

I’m on the phone with Hope last night, and she’s singing her favorite songs to me.  I love this kid!  She’s always reading something to me or singing to me.  I know when she does that, that’s she’s locked in; it’s one of the ways we bond.   Tonight she’s serving up a Justin Bieber concert.

And if I ever see Justin Bieber, I’m punching that little punk in the face and the gut.  Does this dude really have my kid singing about BJs on this song Hold Tight?  What in the H-E-double hockey sticks is going on??

Picture it:

Hope:  [Singing away, she’s got a nice voice by the way.]

ABM: [Furiously, googling song lyrics so I can read along and get a better sense of what Bieber is singing about]

Hope:  Ok, I’m done.

ABM:  Hope that was awesome!  But, er, um, those lyrics…they are a bit naughty don’t you think?

Hope:  [Exasperated] What do you mean?  I mean, all of his songs are about love.

ABM:  Well while you were singing, I looked up the lyrics so I could follow along.

Hope:  You looked up the lyrics?

ABM:   Yeah, I do that.  So, what do you think this song is about?

Hope:  He’s talking about kissing in this song…and stuff.

Yeah, it’s that “and stuff” that has me wanting to limit her musical exploration to instrumental jazz and gospel forever.   Nevertheless, we had a brief discussion about music, lyrics “and stuff.”  It went ok, even if it was a wee bit awkward; I just didn’t want to miss this opportunity to start talking about some important topics.

Bieber clearly thinks we missed the naughtiness of the lyrics, saying, “I am a hopeless romantic so when I love someone, I never want to let them go. This song is about the rush you get when you have that feeling. No matter how hard you try, you can’t let that person go. You just want to hold on as tight as you can. I tried to capture that with this one.”

Yeah, ok Biebs…Ok, I see you.

i see you gif photo: i see you tumblr_ljo9axQmug1qgira5o1_500-1.gif

I’ve been around the block more than a few times.  I love good lyricists, and I love reading lyrics.  I like to pick them apart, figuring out what they mean, how artists put the words over music, how the lyrics stand alone.  Not all lyrics are poetry; some lyrics are just a bunch of crap strung together.  These lyrics are actually clever; just hidden enough but hardly hidden at all.

If Hope wasn’t signing them over and over, and wasn’t proclaiming Hold Tight as her new favorite song, then I probably could see the lyrics through a different lens. The lyrics aren’t poetry, but they are clever in riding the line that allows Bieber to deny alternative meanings.

The upside of this new Bieber vendetta of mine is realizing that music will likely be a gateway for us to talk about all kinds of things, including sex “and stuff.”  That’s a very good thing.  I like that she keeps a song book and carefully transcribes lyrics.  I look forward to nurturing a love of lyrics derived from creative writing that results in really good poetry over music.

In the meantime I need to go look up lyrics for all these little teen singers to see what’s going on in that world.  Fun times ahead.


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