I've been hearing a lot of things lately about people with bad relationships with their kids. There's a video going 'round on Facebook by a dad who shoots his teenager's laptop after she rants and raves about how he makes her work so hard - half a dozen chores every day! Another multiple has been blogging about the horrible way her daughter is forcing her out of her life and her granddaughter's life. I hear coworkers complain about horrible things their kids have said to them. Hey, I was a pretty awful teenager myself. Some switch flipped when I was fifteen that made me a terrible person for a while, especially toward my mom.
My heart aches for all the bad relationships out there, particularly between teens and their parents. Kids really need their parents' support at that point, yet are often so hate-filled and distant that they can't accept it. And parents are baffled by their inability to get through to their kids, and crushed emotionally by the way their kids turn on them. Because they didn't get along with their parents when they were teens, they are primed to fail in relating to their teens when they become parents. And these are the healthy families. In families with abuse and mental disorder and other issues, it gets so much worse.
But I want to talk about my teenage daughter. She's off at college now, but still a teen. And she is an incredible person. I don't know what I did right exactly, but we never went through the 'teen angst' stage of her growing up. We never hated each other, unless she did so and hid it really really well. She has been my best friend for the last almost-twenty years. And I am so proud of her I could burst.
Even as a little kid, she was a pleasure to have around. She was precocious socially, and I took her with me everywhere - as a single parent must. She was more comfortable with adults than with kids. When I went to parties, I would be greeted with, "Hey, you brought the kid, right? I was looking forward to seeing her." And not, "Oh gee, you brought the kid. So you won't be staying long, right?" She was friendly and intelligent, courteous to other people and inclusive in her play and conversation. My friends would come over to hang out with her as much as with me. Everyone was her friend, but no one so much as me. I was only seventeen when she was born; we grew up together. And she was a model for me on how to love your fellow man.
The last time I remember actually having a fight with her, she was maybe nine years old, ten? She did the eye roll and hand-on-hip thing when I was answering a question she'd asked, and I lost it. There were a few more stages involving furniture being mauled and slamming of doors. After the explosions in my head quieted down, we had a long conversation. It basically consisted of me saying, "We are going to be living together for the next ten years. We can get along, or we can fight - your choice. If we fight, be advised that I will win - I'm bigger, smarter, faster, stronger, and more experienced than you - and I control your food, finances, and transportation. I am your mother first, and nothing you can do will change that. It's up to you whether or not I will also be your friend." We haven't really fought since then, aside from minor squabbles. "I don't like you right now," answered with, "Fair enough; you don't have to like me. You just have to do what I say."
Even now, my daughter will call me when she's working on a paper to get my opinion, or to share with me some happy thing that happened to her today, or ask what I think she should do about some decision she's making. Sometimes I know she's calling because she just wants to talk, and the rest is excuse. I know that I am incredibly blessed with such a wonderful daughter.
I feel so sad for people who fight with their teens constantly. I want to yell, "It doesn't have to be that way!" But why is it that way so often? Is it because we have now taught ourselves that teens are supposed to be problems? Is it because we give them too much freedom and not enough responsibility - or the other way around? One of my pet theories has to do with our society's lack of ritual milestones - kids don't have a definitive step to say they are not a child any more, or one to say they are now adults. They have a several-year-long process that doesn't really end; it just kind of fizzles out.
But it doesn't have to be that way - I never went through that with my kid. Did I do something really really right as a parent? Granted, my mother was a wonderful parent to me, and I learned a lot from her - but then again, I was a terrible teen. Maybe she is just that person - no matter what I might have done, she was destined to turn out a great person. As a single mom, I probably shared more 'adult stuff' with her than most kids get - she was my partner in life. So she may have understood better where certain rules and results came from. But there are a few things that I can look back and say, yeah, I did that right.
Communication - In any relationship, I am a huge believer in communication. When you're happy, share it. When you're unhappy, share it. Tell each other how your day went, what you're struggling with, why you do the things you do, what's on the schedule for tonight, tomorrow, next year. What are your dreams? What are your everyday concerns? The more you communicate, the better chance you have of working together. Sure, that means that sometimes you hear things you don't want to. Share anyway. I knew all about my daughter's day at school, her friends, her assignments, her schedule, her triumphs, her failures. Sometimes I heard so much about her life that it was nearly overwhelming. But I knew who she was, and what she thought about, and what she needed help with. And that doesn't go one way. She knew about problems I had at work, thoughts I had on what to fix for dinner. She met my boyfriends - and got to tell me what she thought of them. And when she had an opinion on a decision I needed to make, I listened to it.
Consequences/Failure - I made my daughter make her own choices, and when they were bad choices, I let her fail. I let her make a bad decision, fall down, and pick herself back up. I was there with a hand - if she asked for it. And if she asked for advice first, I'd give it. Sometimes she'd ask me for advice, and I would tell her what I thought she should do and why. Sometimes she would thank me and do the opposite. Sometimes she would agree with me and do as I advised. I let her do whichever she chose, and I expected her to live with the consequences of her actions. If the consequences of doing something meant she would earn a punishment, I would step back and let her do it - and she would turn herself in for the punishment she earned. Sometimes, she decided it had been worth it. As she got older, she started deciding that Mom might be right, and more often than not would heed my advice. But it was her choice. She was allowed to make decisions that would lead her to a failure. How else do you learn to avoid that failure?
Honesty/Honor - I try to always do what I say I will do. And answer questions honestly. If I told my daughter I would be there for something, I did everything in my power to be there. And if I couldn't be there, I told her so. I didn't lead her on with empty promises. I always told her - as I tell anyone else - you may ask me anything, and I will answer you honestly. My answer may be that it isn't your business, or advice to withdraw the question, but I will answer. The hardest question my daughter ever asked me was about her father and our marriage. She was about five, and she looked at me one day and asked, "Momma, did he hit you?" I asked her to withdraw the question, but she insisted that she wanted an answer. So I answered her - yes, he hit me. I didn't give her a long story about what happened, just a simple answer to her question. Her next question was, "Do you think he will hit me?", and I told her no. That was the end of that line of questioning; that's all she wanted to know. After that, no other question she asked was too difficult.
Explanations & Demonstrations - Some answers need explained. And some actions need explained. I may have told my daughter too much about what the life of a grown-up is like. But I had this philosophy that my job as a parent was to prepare her to be an adult, not just to take care of her as a child. So she saw a lot of what being an adult was like. She saw me sit down and work on a budget and pay bills. And when she asked for something and the money wasn't there, I told her that we couldn't afford it; I didn't just say 'no'. And when I made a choice that she was involved in, I told her why I made that choice. It wasn't just because I said so.
So yeah, maybe I did a few things right. Some people would say I took away the innocence of her childhood away from her by letting her see so much adult decision-making. I say, look - she's an adult now, and she can make decisions. I didn't protect her from the consequences of her actions. And now she acts wisely.
I mean, my kid's not perfect. She has faults, she makes mistakes. And I know I screwed up really bad as a parent a few times. But I'm terribly proud of the person she turned out to be, and I know that I have some to do with that. It's not all me - she did the work. But yeah, she's fantastic. I wish everyone could feel about their children the way I feel about mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment