Teenage Beginnings

One of the things I always told myself, especially before having children, was that I would always remember what it was like to be a kid. I would be hip, in the know and relate to my kids. I do fairly well at this. When my sensitive 9 year old girl bursts into tears when Daddy teases her, I melt and explain to her Daddy exactly what she's thinking and feeling. I was sensitive. When the 4 year old boy runs into his room and screams over and over again, I chuckle and remember how much I hated it when my mom wouldn't let me play at the park, or go outside, or run with knives. I remember those feelings, vividly.

When my oldest daughter turned 13 in January I wasn't too worried. It's February. I'm now worried. Seriously folks, how the hell did one month change me? AND her? I can't tell you for the life of me what I felt like when I was 13 other than insecure and I hated my parents. H.A.T.E. (in retrospect, I shouldn't have hated them with such an intensity, they weren't that bad...I was!) But it seems all other memories and feelings have fled my memory banks. This is not fair. And in this past month she has baffled me at least a million times, but I will blog about two of those times. Just two. And those two have me flipped out.

My husband picks me up from work one night and hands me the cell phone that we all share, my daughter, husband and I. (It began as my daughter's phone. but then she got grounded, I lost service to my phone, so we took hers. We allow her to use it to communicate with her friends on weekends and holiday times.) He says, "Read this series of text messages and tell me what you think." I know my husband. He can be a little.....overprotective. Sometimes he panics to the point of irrationality. So, I quietly take the phone, expecting it to be nothing. I was horribly wrong.....

The messages were from a friend of hers that I know, Dad knows her too. My daughter has been to her house for her birthday, rides the bus with this girl. This girl is also a very smart young lady, good brain. She uses it to text horror messages to her friends about kidnapping, killing and burying some "little bitch". And then...several hours later, texts, "Ha ha, just kidding. Hope I made you pee a little."  Um. Seriously?

Turns out, this was supposed to be a prank and this girl thought we would appreciate it for the creative writing aspect of it, and my daughter agreed to let her do it!! I do not know what the hell possessed these kids to think that my husband and I would find that type of message funny. I made sure that both my daughter and her friend were aware of the consequences and panic caused by these actions.

Then a few days later, another text. "Wait until we are somewhere private." and it's from a boy. O. M. G. I'm really about to die a very unexpected death from heart failure at the age of 35.So, I have that uncomfortable talk...AGAIN...with my daughter. How boys are, what they're really thinking and how hormones and feelings get caught up and...yeah, I'm so calm on the surface but my brain is screaming at me to lock her in a tower with a fire breathing dragon safeguarding her.

The thing is, she's really a good girl. She doesn't make all A's, but she works hard in school. She's generally very easygoing without giving any argument to requests we make of her. But she can be unreadable. I talk with her, she nods, maybe I'll get a smile or an eye roll. But she doesn't really talk about things. Not with any of us. Not to an unhealthy extent, I don't think...I believe it's just who she is, but it's driving me crazy. I want to know everything she's thinking all of a sudden and I know I can't. It's a terrible knowledge.

How do  you stay close to your teens?