I now officially have three young adults, ages 22, 20 and 18 as offspring. While that seems to mean that there is really only one "teen" left in our family, my experience of all three is that they are still teenagers. One of the ways this is true is that they are all still "pushing" up against me on a regular basis. They test boundaries, they say things that I am sure have no purpose other than to upset me, they are making choices that seem to be focused primarily on being different from what I would do or would choose for them. This is the job of being a teenager: to differentiate, to discover, to figure out who they are on their own, apart from the wishes, expectations or beliefs of their parents. Each one of my three does this differently, but they are all actively engaged in it.
This week one of my kids informed me that I did not need to know their summer plans because they are handling it on their own and don't need my "help." I tried to explain that I wasn't asking about summer plans because I wanted to control them, but so that I could make my own plans around any possibility of seeing them this summer, but this did not inspire more communication or information from said young person. This same kid also informed me that I needed to stop asking about their friendships or other relationships because it was none of my business. Ouch.
Another one of my kids informed me that they did not need to be "pulled into my work," and they resented it when they had to "help" me by being present with my work in any way. I pointed out that since they are working and yet not paying any rent, that perhaps their attendance at certain events (Easter Sunday?) could be seen as "rent" or contribution to the family, doing their part. They said they'd rather pay rent.
The third child, after being gone on a trip for almost a week, was rude and snippy when I picked her up at the airport, informing me that she didn't "need" to talk to me about her trip, and that she was not in the mood to answer any questions. When we got home, she stomped off to her room, slammed the door and I haven't seen her since.
The subtitle of this particular blog post is "becoming an adult." The one, though, who is being called to become an adult in all of this is me. My kids are doing what they need to do to differentiate, to discover, to become who they need to be. I know this. I see it. But I'll be honest and say that it is difficult for me to respond to this behavior in an adult way. I want to respond by slamming MY door, by saying, "Fine. If I am just a punching bag and a bank to you, this bank is going to start requiring something back to justify my paying for all of your fun and educational opportunities. I require you to be kind to me. I require you to answer my questions. I require you to be decent human beings to your mother! If you can't do it, the bank is closed!" But threatening, being nasty in kind: these are not adult behaviors. It would be better if I could just say, "I am feeling hurt by the way you are speaking to me. I would prefer it if you would choose a different tone of voice or different method of communication." Being an adult means choosing not to threaten, choosing not to slam out and act out, choosing not to hit back when punched. Being an adult means not moving into giving the silent treatment or becoming verbally aggressive in turn. But boy, is this hard!
You'd think that, at the age of 55, I would have learned by now how to be an adult. But in so many ways, I feel my kids are pushing me to grow up in ways that are hard, painful, and sometimes feel beyond my abilities. They are holding up a mirror for me, showing me that I have so much more work to do, so much more growing still to do.
I am grateful for the chances to continue to grow up, to continue to work on becoming the person I hope to be. I am choosing to reframe their attitudes towards me as learning opportunities for myself. We are all on a journey. We can all choose how to see it and how to respond to it. My hope is to grow and learn, to become an adult, even as they, too are becoming adults. We are in this together. And in that realization I find comfort and hope.
