‘What’s wrong? You look a bit fed up, love,’ I asked my moody 12-year-old after school recently.
‘Probably because I just saw your face.’
Ah, the joys of parenting tweens and teens. It used to all be about recording your little one’s ‘firsts’ and sharing online for hearts and likes.
Swapping amusing anecdotes with friends. Helping your children to overcome their worries and problems, and all that unconditional love!
Well, at least for the first 12 years, anyway.
The problem? Once hormones come into play, the well of unconditional love runs a little dry.
And although you still have ‘firsts’ once your kids hit their teens, they’re not always the type you fancy sharing online.
Imagine it: ‘My eldest told me to f**k off for the first time today! Growing up so fast #proudmum.’
As someone who’s birthed and half-raised five children, I’m not completely naïve: I did quickly realise that the tween and teenage years wouldn’t be plain sailing.
But while I’ve always felt ready to handle whatever mothering threw at me, nothing can really prepare you for the moment when those adoring eyes become judgemental, questioning and bordering on hostile.
So much so that I feel like I’m failing at parenting, even after all these years.
A few years ago, I permanently had at least one child clamped to my body and could barely move as they all tussled for attention.
Now, I practically have to rugby tackle one of my brood for a cuddle. I feel like I should have banked that affection in advance, like a squirrel gathering nuts for winter.
Overnight, I seemed to go from the centre of the universe to, at best, a figure of ridicule and the butt of many a sniggered joke. And, at worst, a creature; an embarrassment nobody wants to be seen in public with – coupled with a: ‘Drop me off at the corner, please.’
My cooking no longer delights. My advice falls on deaf ears. They are no longer thrilled when I spontaneously buy them a top, or a pair of jeans.
And rather than rushing into my arms after school, they stomp upstairs in a foul mood, shrugging their shoulders and grunting when I ask about their day.
It goes without saying that I’m finding this stage of parenting exhausting, frustrating and actually soul-crushing at times.
But more than anything, I just wish I could find a way to be ‘better’ at it.
Perhaps turning to expert advice would help? But there are problems there, too. I’m part of a generation of parents who have grown into our role self-conscious, aware of the problems that poor parenting can create and terrified of getting it wrong.
We know all the psychology, we’ve read all the opinion pieces and parenting forums. Except, nobody seems to agree on anything, and we’re left feeling confused rather than supported.
Some would argue that it’s all down to discipline. But in a world where 1 in 5 children and young people in England have a probable mental disorder, and anxiety and depression are on the rise, it’s impossible to forget that under the sometimes surly exterior lurks a very fragile developing mind.
Behaviour isn’t simply ‘bad’ or ‘good’ anymore, but can come from a place of confusion and anxiety – and we are scared of breaking our children.
And while – as one of my brood likes to remind me – it’s not all about me, I can’t help but acknowledge that feeling like a parental failure is a huge knock to my self-confidence.
I’m embarrassed at my apparent inability to parent effectively, and haunted by images of perfect offspring online posted by my wider circle (I’m also very tempted when viewing posts of people with younger children, smiling and laughing, to add comments such as ‘ENJOY IT WHILE IT LASTS!’ So far though, I’ve resisted).
Recently, though, I’ve realised that the biggest obstacle when it comes to parenting teens effectively is that shame – the inability to admit that we’re not waving, we’re drowning.
When, after an argument left me close to tears, I finally put out a rather cryptic but pertinent Tweet saying how I ‘miss’ the closeness I once felt with my teenage daughter, my inbox quickly filled up with other teen parents offering support, sympathy and mutual understanding.
‘Mine’s the same’ one said; another told me it would get better in a couple of years. So many more people than I’d imagined knew exactly how I felt.
It made me realise that, although parents have become better at being open about the struggles of raising youngsters, we teen parents still have some way to go.
Now I feel less alone. I recognise that most parents faced with the ‘terrible teens’ will have moments where they feel they are failing. And importantly, I’m less afraid of judgement and more likely to open up to friends, teachers and even my own parents. I try not to sweat the small stuff, or take it personally. It works. Sometimes.
It’s also important to remember that even when things seem out of control and dire, there are glimpses of light.
Once in a while, one of them will grunt an apology, or a ‘thank you’. Or give me a spontaneous and unexpected hug.
Sometimes a dinner will be consumed with praise and gusto, rather than looks of disgusted incredulity.
Occasionally we share a joke, a secret, or a silly moment in the kitchen when all the teenage barriers fall away and we are just us – as we’ve always been. It makes me feel like mum again, and not the villain.
Times feel tough, but I try to remember these moments and see them as valuable; they are harder won than the wet, sticky kisses of former years. And actually, though fleeting, they have the power to spark joy.
I just have to remember this the next time I ask one of them what’s wrong and they let me know, unequivocally, that it’s all My Fault.
Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing jess.austin@metro.co.uk.
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