Navigating The Teenage Years
This week brought with it a staggering revelation, which rocked the foundations of the home my family and I reside in. My middle son has grown out of his size eight shoes. This breaking story was revealed to me as I nestled in one ordinary Tuesday evening, after my son had been wrestling with a size eight football boot. The size eights now a distant memory, have been replaced by the sound of bigger footwear, ricocheting from the walls where my son passes. He’s a teenage boy. He meanders. Albeit in size nines now. I wouldn’t mind, but as long as I keep feeding him, his trousers are also shrinking.
Three times this week I have had the needle and thread out. First to sew my jaw back up to my face, after the shock of sudden teenage evolution and then to repair another tear in the trouser of his slacks. Today, after a third needle session, I warned him not to bend suddenly or sneeze, lest his whole trou splits into fine shreds. In my defense, I had bought him another two pairs but massively underestimated his growth when the age he is, and the age the new leg sheaths were didn’t match. I advised that he shouldn’t even try them on, they will look like jeggings.
Don’t misunderstand, he is growing in the right direction (not sideways) but sometimes, it can take me by surprise, time flies as they say. I am a modest size 4.5 in shoes and even my 12-year-old daughter has taken over me. The only person with smaller feet than me in the family are the cats, the dog and the pond fish. But they don’t count of course. Clarks don’t do fishwear.
The teenage years are a real turning point, when it comes to parenting. Our children transform not only physically, as my trouser and shoe examples demonstrate, but emotionally and psychologically too. No longer dependent on us for every daily requirement, and in fact, determined that we are now redundant fossils, they turn their attention to evolving social lives (the same situation with the shoes, both bigger than mine), developing their sense of autonomy and making decisions about who they want to be. This is a major transition, and as parents, we must make sure we are equipped for the changes. There is a need to exercise discretion and sensitivity, when we find ourselves battling with their chaotic egos, the frustration they feel as they learn that life is one complicated rollercoaster.
I have had to pour a great deal of attention into navigating the rules and etiquette of teenage girl friendship groups, supporting my daughter through the dramas of high school. I just hope I’m getting it right. The most important thing is to listen. I am doing a lot of this. I am trying not to provide advice, before it is asked of me. When I do, I try and tease out the answers so that my daughter has already worked out a solution.
My son less frequently approaches me about friendship matters, but when he does, its usually because one of his friends has thrown him off an online gaming session. I don’t have much experience in these matters. Control, alt, delete? Not my son. It would take an entire reboot to get his size nines out of the game.
Aside from the nuclear growth, incredible hulk rips, and the feminine dramas that frequent my evening conversations, I’d say my teenage twosome (only a year between them) are doing just fine. The most recent school reports for both are outstanding. My daughter has a lovely circle of friends and regularly has offers of outings and sleep overs. My son has joined the school football team and enjoys attending the local stadium to watch Hull City when they play (his friend has a season pass and regularly asks my son to go).
Both have settled well into our new home which for any family, can be a stress. My son is now closer to the fridge, a great improvement from the previous home, where in the summer he melted in the loft, and in winter, he could see his breath. My daughter has a beautiful double bedroom, king size bed and fitted wardrobes, much to her delight and ever-expanding clothing range. As for my husband and I, we are just beyond grateful that we have a roof over our head and can sit in an enclosed garden. Gone are the days of an open plan garden where anyone from the postmen, window cleaners, Amazon, and Just eat delivery staff can amble on past, while we try to bronze our white spots!
