I am going to start this with: I have no idea what I am doing. I’m about to start writing to you all about what it is like raising a tween/teen. Right now, I am in the throes of rearing a 12-year-old daughter. No one, I mean NO ONE, could have prepared me for this. There are so many books (I’ve read a few) and blogs (a few more of these), and despite the endless advice and warnings, I feel like someone smacked me in the face with a board, Monty Python style (look it up).
What is motherhood like at this stage?
It’s like this
It is definitely different than the sleep-deprived stage of toddlerhood, but it’s also the same. You walk around in a fog, wondering what happened and how you got there. You have gone from asking yourself “am I doing enough to keep her safe?” to asking “am I doing enough to not permanently damage her psychologically?” You circle that same drain of doubt: doubt about your ability to parent through this stage, doubt about whether or not she will turn into a good person, doubt about whether or not this is permanent. You look in the mirror and cry, because you don’t know what else to do. You look at her and think, “wow, she’s really growing up” and then you cry about that. You feel the years slipping away, and then you cry about that. Basically, it’s a lot of crying.
What are the kids like?
I can only speak for mine. Some kids are still great, loving, engaged creatures at 12. Mine is the human form of an angry feral cat. There’s a lot of hissing and yowling involved, and affection is rare. You can’t convince her of anything; she knows way more than I do or at least wants to. Everyone is dumb, or trying to sabotage her (?)happiness, but at the same time, she doesn’t feel that way. And that’s where things get real complicated. She knows how to do almost everything I ask her to, which is AMAZING, but she won’t do them unless you threaten her in some way, shape, or form. She is blissfully unaware of the complications of today’s COVID-19 life, but cares about whether or not everyone is healthy. She’s complicated, and often a foil of herself. There’s the story I tell, and the story she experiences. They are often different.
Probably someone’s moody kid
What is there even to do about this?
Nothing. True story.
I am writing in hopes that my friends who are experiencing this feel some sort of camaraderie. We are not alone. We are in this together, and all that. But for my friends who haven’t gotten here yet: it’s coming. You can read all the books about this that you want, and you’ll still need to call your best friend to check and see if you are crazy for allowing your child to do <insert borderline scandalous thing for kids today here>, and she’ll tell you the truth every time. Keep your friends close. They will be there when you’ve utterly lost your mind, when you need advice, and when you want to share something fun. That’s my best advice.
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