Saturday, February 19, 2011
The "tween" years: the good, the bad, the ugly
Do all mothers and daughters disagree when the teen years start, or are my control issues driving a wedge between us? I‘m coming off a real low point right now, in part because of an argument I had with my daughter before school on Friday. It had been a trying week for me, mainly because I hadn’t been feeling too well, and I hadn’t been getting much sleep at night-my body was dead tired, but I just couldn’t shut my brain down.
The bus would be here in ten minutes so I shouted my last warning, and headed outside with my son. With five minutes left to spare, she meanders outside carrying her winter coat, and decides that she needs her light coat instead. Back in the house she goes, and comes out with a very thin hoodie-now I know the temperatures were to get into the 60’s later in the day, but it was still in the 30’s, and with the wind blowing it felt like 20’s!
That’s three trips into the house and back, and I was livid-my daughter wanted to go back into the house to retrieve her jacket, but like I said before, the only speed she knows is slow, and the bus was due any minute.
Now a smarter person would have just let the matter drop with only two minutes before the bus, but since my education in tween isn’t complete, I did not stop. My daughter’s hair (or more like the lack of a hairstyle) has been a point of contention between her, her father, and me for some time now-I had wanted her to browse the web until she found a style she liked, and then we would go the beauty shop this weekend. She hadn’t done this yet; I told her that I was taking her this weekend and the style I wanted her to have would be the one she would come home with. This didn’t go over very well, and there were some tears and some angry retorts-apparently I have ruined her life, and she was going to make sure I never saw her grandchildren.
Okay, I was so hurt by the "ruining her life" comment that I didn’t laugh at the grandchild comment (um, I would be dead so I wouldn’t see her grandchildren)-she must mean "children" but I didn’t correct her. And I got no wave or acknowledgment (although I rarely do anymore) when she walked on the bus.
I called my husband up when I got back inside, and he promptly welcomed me to his world-he has daily altercations with my daughter about the speed issue (I believe the "I hate you!" is uttered by her to him quite frequently), but he says he tries to back off before things get too intense, sort of signifying that once again I had a lot to learn about tweendom.