Side Tracked

I had planned on posting another graduation talk--something about "the things no one will tell you when you graduate", but I have a little venting to do today instead.  The graduation advice will have to wait.

For all my whining when my kid were little--toddlers are a tough crowd!--I figured that teenagers would be great.  And they are, usually.  In fact, I have not known another age group I like as much--whether my own kids or other people's children.  But lately, I have really struggled with The Girl.

I understand that she is getting older, and occasionally I see the "more mature" side coming out for her but it isn't all the time yet, and I struggle with that. 

I know that at her age she will want to be with her friends more and more, but I struggle with the feeling of disregard I get from her--and it isn't for the family.  It is for me.  She doesn't dis her dad and she has been including her brother more and more.  No, her loathing and anger seems pointed at me.

I get it.  I am "the meanest mom in the world".  That is a title I hold proudly--since that usually mean I am holding the line on some discipline issue.  And maybe that is where the anger and sharpness comes from.  I am the enforcer.  Dad is the softie.

I struggle with the idea that she can be so kind and generous and happy with her friends.  But not with me.  I struggle that she will share her feelings with her dad.  But not with me.  I struggle that she finds ways to blame me for her reactions to the consequences for her actions. And then she writes about it.

With only one more year at home, I guess this is inevitable.  The whole reason parents let their kids go, right?  They become so difficult the parents want them to go figure it out on their own?  Well, I like The Girl.  I think she is pretty great.  And she is worlds smarter than I was at her age.  She certainly has many more advantages than I ever did academically.  And she has a lot of promise for university success, and the financial freedom that can come with it. Her opportunities are unprecedented in my eyes.  But I don't sense that she is grateful for these advantages. 

I don't expect her to grovel at home, but a little humility would be nice.  Sometimes it feels like the only time she speaks to me in a calm voice is when she is being passive aggressive, taking out on me what she felt was some slight from before.  Or she wants something.

She is growing in independence, and I want that for her.  She has a little summer job.  She has a car.  She has a license.  She has relatively simple household chores--which she does, but sometimes only after a lot of hounding from me.

What really knocks me out is when she tried to tell me that I have no idea what she is going through/talking about/feeling at this moment in her life.  Really?  I'd like to note, here, that she also hasn't really ever asked me about what I dealt with at her age.  I have a crate of journals, written throughout my teen years.  She has access to a grandma who could probably remember a thing or two about me at her age.

Individuation.  That is what the child development books call it.  It is a process that all kids have to go through to become well adjusted, independent adults.  And that is what I want for her.  But in the meantime, the process is a struggle.  And I really don't like it.