That Time Olviia Said F*@&

Olivia is fourteen years old. In so many ways, she’s very much a typical fourteen year old. She loves YouTube, she listens to Melanie Martinez, watches ASMR (google it) videos and probably other less appropriate things that I am not aware of. (Ahem, yes, I should be more aware of what she’s watching/reading/learning online. Noted.)

When Alyssa was fourteen, she was into Pentatonix, a very wholesome a capella group that is truly just lovely.

Olivia’s interests are not quite so wholesome.

Anyway.

One day I was in the basement looking for tomatoes.

Olivia came down to look for me.

I wasn’t in my usual place, which is in front of the washer and dryer.

Instead, I was between two shelving units that hold all our preserved food.

I heard O come down the stairs. I watched her walk right by me. She didn’t see me there and kept going toward the basement laundry room. She took maybe three steps into the laundry room and stopped, noting that I was not in the room. At that point, she muttered, “Fuck.”

I was maybe ten feet from her in my space between the shelves. I called out to her, “What did you just say?”

She spun around, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

She walked quickly to where I was standing and hugged me.

I laughed.

I mean, what’s a single muttered “fuck” between mother and daughter?

I did suggest that maybe that’s not the best word for her to walking around muttering but you know what? I get it.

Sometimes muttering the worst word you can think of is the best form of stress-relief.

So…yeah. That happened.

One Foot Out the Door

It’s the first week of Alyssa’s senior year but I swear she’s had one foot out the door on her way to college since the first week of June.

Recently, she told me that she and N and Tessa were talking about next year, A’s and T’s freshman year of college. They all three want to live together at Toledo University.

But, guess what? Toledo’s rule is that incoming students must live on campus for their first four semesters. Of course, there are loopholes. If your family lives within twenty five miles of campus and you’re going to live at home, then fine, you can do that.

If you don’t qualify for that one, then if you can prove financial hardship which would prohibit you from paying for on-campus housing, then sure, find more affordable housing so the university can still get tuition from you.

So, here’s the thing. We do not live within twenty five miles of the Toledo campus. N’s sister, though, does; which is how N has been able to avoid on-campus housing during her time at Toledo University.

Tessa, whose father died when she was seven years old, will probably be able to claim financial hardship.

So…that leaves dear, sweet Alyssa. Poor child, her parents are both still alive and even still married to each other. Sigh.

Wanna guess what her next giant leap was in this little conundrum?

Yeah, she jumped right into: Well, I guess N and I will just go to the courthouse and get married.

That seems a bit extreme, don’t you think? I mean, there are other ways around the ‘must live on campus rule’ besides the VERY BIG STEP of getting married.

There are so many other smaller steps to be taken before leaping into marriage.

I think she was kidding, but I also think she was only sort of kidding.

Everyone who knows me know that if/when Alyssa and N get married, I will throw them the biggest, most beautiful (or smallest, most beautiful, whatever they want) wedding ever. But I want them both to truly be ready for such a step.

But anyway, I think she’s just putting the cart before the horse. She’d just chomping at the bit for independence. She wants so badly to make her own decisions, to learn from her own mistakes, to be trusted to know what’s best for herself.

I do trust her. I know she’s amazing and smart and responsible.

I also know she’s young and so is N. The young are impetuous; even the most responsible young. It’s just the nature of the young. They can’t help it. Their brains are still maturing.

So for the next ten-ish months, she’s going to have to deal with me and her dad making decisions in her best interest. We can’t help it, it’s in our nature to want the best for her. So…there might be some pushing and pulling around here and that’s okay. She needs to push the boundaries and we’ll need to reinforce them.

It’s been a fun ride but it isn’t over yet.

Curfew

Alyssa’s growing up. She’s trying to spread her wings and I love that for her.

Her dad, though, wants to keep her safe.

I get both sides.

I want her to feel a sense of independence. I want her to be free and have fun.

But like him, I want her to be safe too. And when she’s out, I worry about her until she gets home but I know we can’t wrap her in bubble wrap and stash her in the basement.

So what do we do?

She wants to be able to go out and not watch the clock constantly, worrying about getting home in time for what she feels is an arbitrary curfew.

Maybe I need to do a poll and see what other parents have set as a summer curfew for their seventeen year olds.

See, I get it. Alyssa works Fridays, Saturdays and Sunday from 7am to 3pm. She can’t go out Thursday, Friday or Saturday nights much past 9pm because she has to get up at 6 for work.

N works weekends too, only she’s on the 3pm to 11pm shift. So they don’t see each other on the weekends.

N has Tuesdays and Wednesdays off. This is perfect for Lyss because it means they’d can go out, hang out, do whatever it is teenagers od these days. But…those days are ‘week nights’ and Tom thinks Lyss should be home by 10 on weeknights.

Her argument is that because she and N work weekends, Tuesdays and Wednesdays should really count as weekends for them and thus, they should be able to stay out late.

And remember, it’s SUMMER.

Another thing is that Alyssa is a REALLY GOOD person. She gets straight A’s. She has never missed a day of work. I really, truly don’t think midnight on a summer night when she doesn’t have to work the next day is that big a deal. I mean, they’re usually just hanging out at N’s house anyway. They don’t cause trouble, they don’t go out ‘cruising’.

But I have to figure out how to gently suggest all this to Tom because he’d a dude and needs to think this is all his idea or he’ll dig in his heels and ‘stick to his guns’ just on the basis of principle.

Sigh.

I hate being in the middle of it all. I mean, yes, I’m her parent too and I am his spouse and I want them both to be happy. I can see both sides and I think there has to be a compromise. Right?

What time do your teenagers come home on summer nights when they don’t have to be anywhere the next day?

Bad Influence

So apparently, I’m the mom who leads the children of others astray into lives of deception and lies.

Alyssa decided to play social director one day last week.

She created a group chat with about seven of her friends. She and these friends then used the group chat to make plans to go swimming on a Friday afternoon. The swimming party would then move along and become a pizza party which would end at N’s house with a sleepover.

Among the friends was Zane, one of Lyss’s best friend, who just happens to be gay. He’s a sweetheart and I worry that his parents are in denial of his sexuality.

His dad will not let Zane spend the night with female friends.

As another of Lyss’s friends put it: Apparently, Z’s dad thinks the gay goes away after 10pm.

Zane would not be the only male attending this swim/pizza/slumber party.

D would also be there.

So…being the devious person I am, I suggested to A that she suggest to Z that he tell his dad (or mom, whichever parent he had to suffer that weekend) that he was spending the night with D.

I mean, it’s basically true. I’m sure that D and Z would be in living room on the couches while Lyss, N, A, S and K would be in N’s room.

So not really a lie, right?

Except, yes, it’s still a deception; one I suggested my teenage daughter tell her friend to tell his parents.

I’m a terrible person.

Yes, it’s true. And I feel almost bad about it.

But honestly, shouldn’t these teenagers be coming up with their own ways to lie to their parents?

Why is the 48 year old mom over here being more dishonest than the teens?

What is with this sweet, honest generation we’re raising?

Sass

As girls, we deal with a lot of gross things. It’s just the nature of being female. Yay! Who rules the world?

Dudes, as we all know. But we’re working on that right?

Anyway.

Last week was period week in our house. Yuck for everyone involved.

I ask Alyssa each month if she will help Olivia with her pad each afternoon since I don’t get home until 5ish and its decidedly gross by then. And by ‘help’ I mean, she can just supervise. Tell Liv if the pad needs changed, make sure Olivia actually changes it, ensure the new pad is placed correctly and that the old one (so gross!) is disposed of properly.

When I got home last Wednesday, I went to work making cheese cake and rice krispy treats for Thanksgiving dinner at my mom’s the next day. I realized at about 6:30 that evening that I hadn’t helped Olivia check her pad.

I asked her if she’d changed it when she got home at 1:30 that afternoon.

She announced that she hadn’t.

I looked at Alyssa, who’d had N over for the afternoon.

Tom called from his spot in front of the computer to say that he’d asked Olivia about it earlier in the day and he was positive that Lyss was in hearing range when he’d asked.

Sigh.

I called Olivia to the bathroom and we took care of business. The entire time, I shot looks of disappointment at Alyssa.

When we were done, Alyssa declared, “You know, she’s not my sole focus in life!”

Oh. Oh no. She did NOT just say that.

I may have seen red at that point.

I told her in hushed but intense tones, “I have never asked you to make her your sole focus! I ask you, a couple of times a month, to help her with this one thing. It would have taken you less than a minute to go into that bathroom with her today.”

To Alyssa’s credit, she got it. She may have teared up.

I couldn’t let it go, though. I reminded Alyssa, “I know you think we baby her. I get that. But she is NOT normal. Don’t you think I would give anything if she were? Don’t you think I’d fix her if I could? I wish, with all my heart, that she were a typical twelve year old who could change her own damn pad without assistance.”

I stopped there because I was getting upset and I didn’t want Olivia to hear me. I love Olivia and I accept her challenges. I would change them in a heartbeat for her but I can’t and so when I’m not there, I need a little help.

I admit to being peeved by Lyss’s comment for several days after.

I told Tom, “She has no idea how good she has it. If we both worked outside the home, she’d have it so much harder.”

And I am glad she doesn’t have a hard life. I wouldn’t want her to have to work harder around the house or take more care of her sister.

But…I kind of wish she had a little more appreciation for the life we’ve given her. I do realize how ridiculous that is. She’s a teenager, they’re notoriously self-centered. They can’t help it. They’re brains are still developing and that’s a good thing. And honestly, she’s one of those really great teenagers.

I worried so much about Alyssa when Olivia was born. And that was before we even knew that Olivia had special needs. A little sister changes the older sibling’s life. A little sister with special needs changes it even more. I worried desperately that she’d be negatively impacted by Olivia’s needs.

I still have guilt over Olivia’s first Christmas because of how it affected Alyssa.

I’m so grateful that Tom and I have been able to provide a home in which Alyssa has always been able to just be a kid. She hasn’t had to do a lot for Olivia. Sure, when I’m in line at the grocery store, I will ask her to go to the restroom with Liv if she announces she has to pee. But that’s about it. She’s never been asked to baby sit, she’s never had to clean up after Olivia. She doesn’t have to make meals or wipe butts.

So I don’t feel like having to look at her sister’s pad two or three days each month and make sure she (the sister) takes out a used one and puts a clean one in correctly is asking too much. Hell, it might even build character.

For what it’s worth, I’m over the whole sassiness of it all. This isn’t a vent or my attempt to make Lyss feel bad. We’ve settled it and we’re good. This is just storytelling, an attempt to keep track of life itself as it continues on a fast pace day after day after day. I want to remember these moments when we both got a little testy because these are the moments memories are made of, good and bad. And this isn’t even a bad memory, just one of thousands that I hope someday we can look back on and laugh about.

It’s actually kind of nice to see my straight A, over-achieving teenager be human, a little self-centered and self-focused. It’s okay. It’s good. We’re good and she’s more than good. She’s amazing, even when she’s sassy.

Teenage Love

Remember when you first met your significant other? How new and wonder that person was? Remember how you wanted to spend every waking moment with them? How you counted down the hours and minutes until you could be with them again?

Yeah, me neither.

But we’re in the throes of that right now with teenage love.

Bless their hearts but I’m so over it.

I’m over her asking to go somewhere every single day, or to have someone (you know about whom I am speaking) over to our house.

This week has been rough for all of us.

But FAIR WEEK is the constant excuse for the constant asking if she can go out and stay out later than we usually allow on school nights.

There haven’t been any tears but that’s probably because Tom and I are pushovers and we’ve given in on just about everything. So yeah, this frustration is probably our fault but that doesn’t make it much easier to swallow.

After her being late two nights in a row, she still asked to go to an event on Wednesday. Fine, whatever, but DON’T BE LATE. I even told her that if she thought she was going to be late, she needed to call me and I would come get her to avoid the stress of her being late.

She was right on time. As in, she was supposed to be home at 9:30 and she walked in the door as exactly 9:30. Sigh.

Tom and I agreed to the event on Wednesday with the stipulation that she wasn’t doing anything, going anywhere, etc. on Thursday.

Thursday morning dawned. She rolled out of bed at 6:45, arrived down for breakfast at 7:00. At 7:10, as she was heading back upstairs she asked all casual-like, “I know you told me that if I went last night I couldn’t go anywhere tonight but N has to be at the fairgrounds at 6:00 so can I hang out with her until 5:45?”

I didn’t say anything. I was not this kind of teenager, who asked and asked and asked for more. I didn’t push mom.

Let me insert here that she’s a good kid. She’s mostly kind and sort of helpful. She might vacuum once a week, if I ask her to do so. She’ll do the dishes when we tell her. She isn’t mean to her sister. She gets good grades but those come easily for her and so I can’t say she works hard for them. She’s talented, she’s smart, she’s mostly sweet. But she’s also a teenager and teens are very self-centered. I won’t say she’s selfish, but she definitely wants what she wants when she wants it.

Tom finally replied to her question. He had something going that afternoon that meant he needed Lyss at home to help with Liv if he had to leave. We rarely leave the girls home alone but as she often points out, Alyssa is fifteen years old. She’s perfectly capable of being home alone with her eleven year old sister for a couple of hours if necessary.

She took the news well that we needed her to be at home. In fact, she rolled with it and immediately suggested, “Then can N come over here until 5:45?”

She’s a sly one, that girl. I mean, why not ask? If she doesn’t ask, we definitely won’t offer the option and that’s as good at not seeing her girlfriend for a whole twelve hours until the next school day. Heaven forbid!

We gave in, AGAIN, and told her it was fine. I mean, what does it harm?

I did tell Olivia that she is babysitting her sister as much as her sister is babysitting her. I told her to be as annoying as she could and that if A and N went upstairs, she (O) should definitely follow them and not give them a moment of peace. I mean, she’s the little sister, that’s kind of her job, right?

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t nice of me to give Liv those instructions but this past week I’m finding parenting a teenager to be a lot of work and I’m tired. I’m so very tired. I’m tired of watching for headlights each night, I’m tired of staying up later than I want because she’s not home when she’s supposed to be home. I’m tired of watching the clock. I’m tired of having to even think about whether she can go somewhere and when she should be home versus when she WILL be home. Like I said, I’m tired.

Are these the years that make us glad when they graduate and move out? Do they get like this so we will push them out of the nest rather than hold tightly to them and crush their independent spirits?

I don’t know but I think maybe. Maybe.

Learning to Fly

This summer has been an adventure in all kinds of ways. First, it's been the first summer I've had off work ever since I've had the girls. We've taken two trips to Battle Creek, Michigan. Olivia and I have averaged at least one day at the pool each week, sometimes more (see last week when we went both Thursday AND Friday.)

It's also been the first summer that Alyssa has been gone more than home. She and N try to spend as much time together as possible, because, duh. N works, so they have to fit their time together between her work schedule.

And now...Lyss is learning to drive. She got her learner's permit yesterday (Saturday.) She's already logged over an hour of driving with me and today she's getting some time in with her dad.

She's pretty good, actually. I try hard to be calm and patient as I'm reminding her to come to a full stop at stop signs and to maybe slow down a little sooner when coming to an intersection. I also try not to grab the door handle when she's taking curves a little faster than I think she probably should.

She's growing up and I'm so glad for her. I want her to fly. I want her to soar as high as she can and do everything she wants to do. I want her to reach for the stars and follow her dreams. I want her to know she can always come home, she will always belong here, even as she's finding other places to belong.

This summer has been the start of the gradual pull away from the gravity of your family of origin for her. She's learning that she has a life that doesn't always include her parents. And that's okay. That's good. But yes, it's hard for me and Tom.

I remind Lyss often she she's still only fifteen.

She then reminds me that she's NOT twelve. She does this with respect and maybe a little exasperation. I get it. I get that she has to pull away a little now so that in a few years she'll be more ready, more confident as she pulls away, both figuratively and literally as she goes off to college.

The teenager years are years of growth, transition, learning to fly and learning to let go, for both the teen and the parents.

We've got this. We're helping her spread her wings even as we continue to pad the nest so if/when she falls, we're here to cushion the blow and let her try again.