The Myth of Teenagers

There's a popular myth (or urban legend) out there in society that the moment your child turns 13, they become a member of an alien species known as Teen.

Apparently members of the Teen species are rude, insolent, smelly, disobedient, defiant and totally spiteful to their immediate family members as a matter of course. That the Teen species is allowed to full maturation is some sort of heroic effort on the families' parts and is worthy of medals and so on.

I have heard countless tales of how Teens have caused stress, financial hardship, family dissonance, grey hair, hurt feelings and even visits from the legal authorities.

I don't doubt the validity of the stories at all. I doubt the assumption or "pack mentality" that seems to go with Teens, implying that total "DEVO-lution" is inevitable and there is nothing to be done except to grit teeth and hope for the best.

I'm here to bust that myth right open.

Teens are not so dang bad. I honestly don't know a single one that I would characterize as a "bad kid". I do know of one or two who are dealing with bad life choices, in conjunction with parents that don't understand, like or enjoy them.

I think that's the key. I think it's important to like your kid for the people they are, and not who you want them to be.

I LIKE mine. He's smart, funny, independent, thoughtful, compassionate, obsessive, responsible and yes, at times, REALLY annoying. But he is a truly cool guy.

I don't do as many things with him as I did when he was little. Some of that is due to his really INDEPENDENT streak, and some is due to interests. He likes activities that until recently had no appeal to me.

I believe in "active parenting" (if that's a term) so I recognized that I was shortchanging TallBoy and set out to at least TRY his favorite activities.

I was wildly successful at headbanging- I have had lots of practice. However, a headache and bad hair resulted, so I don't do it a lot. He gets his love of reading from me, so trying that was no problem- except reading is fairly solitary and it didn't really add to our shared experiences. I tried Airsoft, but I really, really, really hate guns (even pretend ones) so that did not go well at all. I love basketball, but I am completely uncoordinated (dancing is not the only gross motor skill I lack) and so while it was fun, it was humiliating. And so on- I tried lots of his favorite things, and for the most part, I either had fun but won't do it again or hated it with a passion.

Until painting miniatures. I totally get why he spends so much time with his little metal guys. I do. They are very much like scrapbooking or cards- no right way or wrong way to do it. There's a lot of color choices in painting metal figures- and while I am not a trendy or fabulous scrapper/card maker, I have a good eye for color. So it totally translated to painting. Color is totally personal. So is style. Each figure I painted had it's own character and moments where I was equally frustrated and happy.

And now I have an activity I can sit and do with him, quietly- not invading his space, but being with him. Being there; available. He enjoys painting with me, and so I continue to paint (probably taking longer than I need to on my last two guys in order to spend time with him) and enjoy a new found hobby as well as the fun guy that is TallBoy.

He is also an avid cook, and loves spending time learning new recipes in the kitchen with me. He can make spaghetti, mac & cheese, eggs, bacon, grilled cheese, french toast, hamburger helper, cheeseburger soup and of course, biscuits and three different kinds of cookies. We're working on bread- bread is a process, though. I tend to use the recipe as a guide but work by smell and texture. It's been interesting teaching "texture" to him. But he listens and likes the adventure, so I keep at it.

I love being his mom. I love having a hand in helping him learn who he is, what works for him, and what does not. I love those "aha" moments where he totally GETS something I have been trying to explain to him. I love calling my dad up with yet another of his impossible to answer questions. (My dad knows everything, or at least says he does, haha.) I love tucking his way too big body into his bed at night. I love scaring him to pieces by coming around the corner when he least expects it. (I am terrible, I know.) I love asking him to get something from the top shelf because he is, after all, TallBoy.

I like my kid and I am having the time of my life with him as a teen. Maybe it's me as the parent that is breaking all the rules, but my Teen is not becoming an alien. I'm actually getting to know him better.