As a person with a psychology degree and an avid reader, I know she is behaving as expected. Assuming you expect, and welcome both Dr. Jekyll and Miss Hyde! Fun fact: My daughter will be playing the role of Robert Louis Stevenson in her next school play. Not sure if it is art imitating life or vice versa?
As a general rule, her answer to any question is "no". She does not want to do, eat or wear anything you suggest. She vacillates between surly and indifferent often, but I know the clever, sweet, creative child I've spent the last twelve years with is still in there. Sometimes she shows up at unexpected times, usually when feelings overwhelm and she needs help navigating the tsunami. She struggles with the usual afflictions of her age, trying to decide who she is as her body, mind and environment are changing. Frustrated by clothes she loves that no longer fit, blemishes that seem to resist all forms of treatment and friends that are all in the same boat. Tweenage friends are a blessing and a curse because they are all equally unpredictable and the drama is the only constant.
After an emotionally exhausting couple of weeks with many tears (for both of us) a lot of reassurance from me (it's okay to cry, it's a release, let it out) and a shopping trip with a healthy dose of practicality because pragmatic is my middle name, I thought we were finding a bit of balance. While watching Glee, Abby's current obsession, she was busily trying to craft something but wouldn't say what. When the show ended, an unexpected melt down ensued. Confused, I calmed her enough to talk and discovered a friend at school had made and given Abby a friendship bracelet. Long story (is there any other kind?) short, she had lost the bracelet and was sure her friend would hate her. After she stopped crying and I shared my observation that only a good friend (she was sure she was the worst friend...ever!) would be so upset about hurting another with their carelessness, we had a conversation about honesty. I told her she could not control her friends response but telling her what happened and apologizing was still the right thing to do. Crisis averted. The next day her friend said she would make her another friendship bracelet and the insensitive eye-rolling tween I live with was back.
I can't wait for seventh grade to be over, it's been a rough year and I think we could all use a break.
The constant push and pull of emotions and the mental fatigue of choosing how to respond rather than simply reacting has caught up with me. I know I have bent the ears of friends and family with my parenting woes. Here's the thing, though, you can love your child and love being their parent without always loving parenting. Parenting is hard work and platitudes like, "enjoy every moment" only fuel the fire of guilt. I do enjoy a lot of moments but not all of them. The thing you discover is that every stage is hard when you are trying to do and be the best you can for your child without doing and being so much they can't become who they are meant to be.
Last night, we went to the library for a monthly teen crafting event. Abby hasn't wanted to do much in the way of extracurricular activities but I keep encouraging her to try things. I think it's important to have friends and hobbies outside of school. I arrived early to pick her up and watched the way she spoke with ease to both the adult librarian and the girl sitting next to her. As we were leaving she gave the librarian a butterfly sticker because she had mentioned she likes butterflies. I had a little Grinch moment where my heart grew three sizes but of course I acted casual and just said, "that was a nice thing to do."
I am grateful that she comes to me with her questions. There have been many lately about her body, friends, religion and of course why she still doesn't have a phone! I believe it is imperative that she knows she is worthy of love and belonging even if she doesn't have a perfect report card, seems to hate everything at times and doesn't always appreciate the level of thought and effort I put into not scarring her for life. I've said it before but it bears repeating, the little glimmers of hope when you see good character developing, keep you going. The little window into the future person you love now as a child makes this parenting gig worth all the challenges. It really is tough love and it may never get easier, just different. But you know what? I've always liked different.
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