Tips From Teens And Toddlers

So I'm gaining some valuable experience in human interaction lately -- from two very diverse places.

I'm not sure how many moms are blessed enough to have a kid who is not only self-aware, but who is articulate and can tell me what's going on inside that teenage head of hers. For example, a few years ago, when she was in the throes of mood-swingy puberty, Jennifer was actually able to understand that she was temporarily at the mercy of her crazy hormones, and that she might be overreacting just a tad to a situation. She had this sort of "pet phrase" she'd use, when she knew she was totally blowing things out of proportion. Instead of howling the cliche line you see in every teen drama: "YOU'RE RUINING MY LIFE! I HATE YOU!", she'd stop whatever she was doing or whatever rant she was in the middle of and wail, "I'm the cause of global warming!!!!!!!" That was sort of my cue to step back and let her collect herself -- that whatever was going on would pass, and that she didn't suddenly have some serious character issue I needed to jump in and nag her out of.

And let's not ignore the fact that my ever-patient husband has had to deal with both puberty and menopause, in the same house, at the same time.  Poor guy. I'm surprised he hasn't run away from home. Yet.

I remember about a year ago, I publicly apologized, via Facebook, to my now-grown stepdaughter Becky. When she was going through the mood-swingy years, I was sooooooo smug. So intolerant. My favorite admonition, always said with holier-than-thou righteousness, was: "It's fine to feel however you want to feel. It is not, however, okay to act any way you want to act." A slammed door or eye roll would send me instantly through the roof, forcing her to march back upstairs and go back down to her room politely, without another slam. I was such a step-monster.

Fast-forward to the onset of my menopausal years. Holy crap. I'd forgotten entirely what it felt like to be a complete, helpless slave to my own hormones and inner demons. Here I was, cussing like a sailor, throwing things, slamming cabinets. What a hypocrite! Becky graciously forgave me for being a sanctimonious ass.

I homeschool my younger daughter, who's seventeen now.  We spend a lot of time together, even though that time is now beginning to be infringed upon by real life and the growing demands of her becoming a young adult. While school used to consist of a math lesson on the carpet, in between games of "Life" or "Sorry", or before and after binge-watched episodes of Dr. Who, Jennifer is now taking classes at the local community college. She's also spending lots of time interning at church or heading off to spend afternoons at the beach or thrift shopping with friends.

So, again, it's probably only me that does this (right, moms?), but when I'm picking Jen up after some time apart, my normal behavior is to fire off a million questions -- "What'd you do? Did you eat? How's so-and-so doing? Who all was there tonight? What was the Bible lesson about?..." And on and on.

I think Jennifer deals with these rapid-fire interrogations much more politely than most kids. In fact, she even tries to field all of my questions. But one day, not long ago, she helped me understand this whole thing from her point of view.  "Mom," she explained, without anger or sarcasm, "when you pick me up, I've just spent time with some really close friends. We talk about a ton of things, and some of them are super private - things that my friends wouldn't want me to share with you.  So I need a little time to process it. I have to decide what is private and I shouldn't share, and what kind of stuff I can tell you. I can't talk about it right away." This is pretty insightful. And articulate!

I would imagine this would be harder to hear if I didn't already spend so much time around my kid. I can picture a relationship where I packed her off for seven hours of school every day, then carted her to an evening meeting or rehearsal or other function. I'd be so desperate to reconnect with her that I'd want to know everything, and right away. I'm very blessed to have such a close relationship with her that I can hear what she's telling me about this, and now I try my best to give her space and allow her to come back into our space in her own way.

And lately, I am learning a lot about being around very young people too. Things I wish I'd known the first time around. I get to watch my almost-two-year-old grand-niece for three days each week, while her mom works as a police officer. Little miss Lola is preparing me for grandmotherhood. She's such a light in our lives, and Jennifer is learning a ton about baby and toddler care, as she's still home much of the time when Lola is here.

I think a lot of adults make a mistake when they enter into a baby or toddler's space and immediately try to foster some grand INTERACTION. I've learned, over the past year or so of watching Lola, a different way of relating to little ones.  I've found that that far better course of action is to enter in and be quiet - see what the baby is doing right that moment. They live SO in-the-moment. Instead of throwing a bunch of stimuli at the child, enter into what HE'S doing right that very minute.  And don't try to force affection from the baby. My sister Debbie is a master at this. Her secret, she once confided, is to pretty much totally ignore the child. Not in a mean way... more like in an "I'm not gonna get all up in your face" way. The baby eventually comes around to check out what SHE's all about. It's brilliant. And it works!

There's definitely a connection between these two ways of interacting. It's so much about observing and listening and figuring out what's going on before just charging in with my own agenda. I haven't mastered it, by any means. And I wish I'd learned it earlier. I'd have had far fewer crushed expectations, less frustration, and I probably would have done less to drive those around me crazy!

Jennifer is on her way home from having brunch with friends and working at the church to feed the needy. And Lola's asleep. Let's see how I do this afternoon. I may have to read this blog again myself to remind me to back off, listen, and learn.