Mid-CenturyModernMoms

Finger clicking

Nothing does a better job of making me feeling inadequate than my teenagers. And I'm talking more than just inadequate here, I'm talking TOTALLY inadequate. It's not a feeling that's comfortable or enjoyable.

I've been feeling as though we're cruising along pretty well in family life. Em's working hard at school, Davey's doing enough to keep everybody happy and there's no tension in our house.

Then someone clicks fingers somewhere and everything's turned on its head.

Davey's showing signs of OCDness, grumbling at me for googling the wrong news item for his (late) assignment. (I provide a googling service, nothing else. The assignment's his issue not mine. Oh, and I hadn't googled the wrong news item, the details were just different to what he had been expecting.) Em's stressing over every half mark at school, has thrown a little tantrum at one of her teachers, having issues with programs she's involved with outside of school and telling me I have no business asking questions about them. To this last comment I pointed out that if I'm going to provide transport at such inconvenient times to such inconvenient places and I'm funding her involvement, then there's a certain amount of information and courtesy that should be extended my way!

I have the skills to captain the good ship Happiness.  But this leaky vessel that's being tossed on enormous waves of emotion with rocky reefs below?  Nah-ah. Beyond my ability. Not what I want to do. Bring back the calm seas and pleasant breezes, please.

Could whoever clicked their fingers to turn my life upside down, please click them again to return it to manageable chaos?  I'd be ever so grateful.

Blokey Sensibilities

My Davey's a lovely kid. He's aware of other people's needs, he's caring and considerate. He's funny, observant and switched on - even when he doesn't appear to be.

He's also as lazy as I'll allow him to be with household chores. Sometimes that's pretty lazy because time constraints and being too lazy to nag remind him, or think of consequences, I just do the chore and get on with life. (I'm sure you're all familiar with the equation: 20 minutes of nagging timely reminders versus 2 minutes, or less, to do the job yourself.) I also know that's not a good pattern, long term. One of Em's 17 year old school friends is a much loved and longed for only child to older parents. His Mum still packs his school bag for him every morning. Books, pencil case, lunch, extra money. Everything. If something's not in his bag that he needs, it's not his fault. That's not healthy at 17. It's made me realise that some of the things I do for Davey are not healthy at 14. (For the record, I haven't packed his school bag since, well, ever!)

I asked Davey to help vacuum the lounge room a few weeks ago and he kept avoiding it. Eventually he told me he'd rather do an outside job, not something so.... He didn't finish the sentence, but I heard what he was saying. He wanted a blokey job. He's beginning to feel that he wants to be treated as a young man. Now in this household that won't preclude vacuuming altogether (his Dad always vacuumed more than I did!), but if he wants to do some blokier jobs, that could be arranged. He was immediately given the job of washing the car (we have a station wagon and live on the side of a hill with an awkward driveway, so it's not an easy task), and he was satisfied. It also took him a lot longer to wash the car than it did for me to vacuum, so it was a good deal in my book.

The next thing I did was to ask my friend who was sort of regularly mowing our lawn to stop doing so. I felt this was a job Davey needed to have responsibility for. I know he'll hate it at times, and I'll hate having to nag remind him, but it will give him a sense of ownership of our yard and blokey feelings of satisfaction. Mind you, he'll feel a lot more satisfaction when he doesn't have to have Mum start the mower for him!

Often when I tell Davey I did a job for him because it needed to be done immediately and he wasn't around for one reason or another, he's cheekily responded with "I win!". This time I think it's me that's winning. I no longer have to wonder if I need to allow for lawn mowing in my weekend, as my friend may or may not turn up to mow the lawn during the week, because my friend won't be turning up. Davey will be doing it and building up his blokey sensibilities.

I win.  And Davey wins too - it probably just won't feel like it to him.

What to say?

When you're short and rounded and marry a man who's tall and skinny, you kinda hope your children will take after their father, not you. At least, that's how it's been for me.

For most of my life I've hovered just over the ideal weight range and only with hard work do I get below this. Sadly my Em is almost identical in size. She's not fat, but she isn't slim either. She's 'rounded'.

I was talking to a friend last night who had just been shopping with her 13 year old daughter, who is similarly neither fat nor slim, for this season's swimming costume. While our daughters can wear outfits that flatter their fit and healthy bodies, swimming costumes, well, they don't cover much do they? We got to talking about how difficult it is to tactfully tell our daughters that something that looks great on skinny girls, looks a little less fantastic on them.

How do you tell your daughter (who doesn't want to hear it) that the little denim short shorts that look great on skinny legs, only serve to highlight thighs that rub together? How do you tell your daughter that these oh, so popular shorts, also cause muffin top? Then there's the problem of buying appropriate tops. There's unflattering cuts, gaping necklines, lack of length...and on the problems go. All with attendant problem description difficulties for mothers who want their daughters to wear clothes that fit in with current trends and look better than disastrous.

AND we don't want to sap our girls of what little self esteem they may be hanging on to during these hormonal teenage years of angst. Nor do we want them to dive into the dark world of anorexia and bulimia in an attempt to gain fashionably acceptable bodies.

I haven't always succeeded in walking this tightrope tactfully. I haven't always succeeded in having Em wear clothes that don't look disastrous on her - thankfully, at 16, she has developed an awareness of what works for her figure and what doesn't. I have no solutions to offer for this parenting dilemma, I just wanted to acknowledge the problem exists for many of us.

I'm holding on to these. I hope they do too.

Some days parenting teens is hard work. Really. hard. work.

Some days I think I just can't do it. I feel sorry for myself that I have no-one to hand over the reins to. No-one to back me up. Not even grand parents. I just want to go to bed, pull the covers over my head and hibernate for 5 years or so.  I don't want to see another eye-roll or hear a bored, 'you're so last century' tone again for even longer than that.


Then I came across these photos on my camera and realized we have a lot of fun too.

I want to hang on to these moments, these memories.  I hope they're the memories my teens will have of their teen years when they're adults.  Not the grumpy mother moments.

And gentler moments like this.  (Em took this of Davey and me on our recent camping trip.  I'm still convinced I'm taller than Davey.  I am.  Really.  I am.)

We like our slow time - we're odd like that

This is Davey's distorted shadow as he unzips the entrance to the tent.

We're just back from a few days camping.

Camping for us usually means driving to one of the many National Parks in NSW and enjoy a few days of very basic living. Often the campsites we choose to go to have only very basic facilities. The site we camped at last week, in Yuraygir National Park, was no exception. Chopped wood was provided and pit toilets. And, ah, that was about it. Taking water no longer phases me though, as I've been able to work out how much we require and that's about 10 litres a day for the 3 of us.Way down this walking track in the heathland, you can just see Em.

I call myself a 2 night camping specialist. 2 nights is worth the effort of pitching the tent and setting up, and I can keep food cold right up until the end of the 3rd day. We aim to be set up before lunch on the first day and pack down after lunch on the 3rd day, and it always feels as though we've had much longer than 3 days away. Perhaps it's the total lack of technology that slows time down, perhaps it's paying attention to really simple tasks like boiling the billy for a cup of tea. Whatever it is, 3 days of camping refreshes us like nothing else.

It was just warm enough for us to enjoy the waves on our body boards, though Davey was pretty keen on sitting around the campfire to warm up afterwards. There's not much insulation on his streamlined body!
We sat around the campfire at night and marvelled at the incredible night sky that isn't visible in urban areas, and listened to the creatures of the night rustling in the inky black shadows that surrounded us.

Em had told me she hadn't learned much in Biology this year, however when we walked around a rocky headland, we found a totally different shoreline to the one we camped next to. This bay was just a big rock platform, filled with rockpools and marine creatures. Em sprouted all sorts of information and showed us how to find creatures I'd never noticed before. Even she chuckled when I commented that Biology hadn't been a total waste of time.


Oh, and just because we're 'roughing it' doesn't mean that Em's quirky fashion sense is left at home.  This was her nail treatment during camping.  The middle nail is painted entirely, while the other nails are french tipped in red.  Yup.  She's special!
On the drive home, Em commented that these signs are put in place to taunt Learner Drivers.  "They're telling me to go 85 when they know I'll lose my licence if I go over 80!"

I guess if I wanted it to be easier I should have bought a farm

Back in January Em passed a written test and gained her Learner Driver permit. Since then we've clocked up the requisite 120 hours of driving time with me as her supervisor, though we have to wait until she's 17, in January 2010, until she can sit the driving test. When Em attained her Learner's Permit I was worried we wouldn't be able to clock the hours up within the 12 month time frame. Every family we knew who had teenagers who had gone through this before us told us how difficult they had found logging the hours. The 120 hour requirement has only been in force for the last 2 years, prior to that the requirement had been 50 hours and many families told me they struggled to meet that requirement.

I decided that Em would drive at every opportunity - if she was to be in the car she would be the driver, and that strategy has worked for us. With 3 months to go before Em sits her test she's driving well. In our automatic station wagon. If Em is ever to learn to drive a manual car, now is the time. So, I've taken the plunge and bought a cheap 21 year old car for her to learn in. This same little car I'm hoping will grant me some freedom from family driving duties next year.  Em will be able to drive herself and Davey places.  If I stick to just 1 car I'll still have to do all the driving in order to have us all in the right place at the right time.  A second car to go with the second driver will give me a reprieve which I'm more than ready for.

This isn't the car I bought for Em, but it's the same model.  Em's car is faded lime green and doesn't have roof racks. 

It's all style, no?  Well, it's Em's style.  Em would really prefer  something a bit quirkier, but she's happy to not have a bubble car.  A lime green box is much more to her liking.

Anyway, a whole new aspect of driver instruction has begun.  Oh. My.

I grew up on a farm and drove tractors before I went to school.  I don't remember not knowing how to drive a manual transmission.  That's the easy way to learn.  Em's learning the normal way.  I think the gear box on the little Lime Splice (it's a type of ice cream sold in Australia and what Em's named the car), will survive this new learning process, but it's sure getting a work out!   We're on school holidays here at the moment, so I figure a week or so of driving in the industrial areas after businesses have closed for the day will do it.  Then I'll be able to stop gripping the edge of my seat so tightly while I endeavour to keep a calm tone in my voice and relaxed body posture.

There's always another challenge to face in parenting isn't there?

Other people's mess

Earlier in the year Em had a job as a pool attendant. By pool attendant the job description meant life saver. Em worked 9 hour shifts on weekends at an indoor pool ALONE. Yes, she holds the appropriate life saving certificates, but somehow I didn't feel right about a 16 year old being the sole staff member at the pool where lots of children are dropped off by their parents and left at the pool for hours at a time. It's tricky to be at the front counter taking money, selling sweets, swimming goggles and other miscellaneous items AND watching the children in the pool at the same time.

Anyhoo, after her boss yelled at her because a friend dropped in to see her the day after her friend Niel ended his life, I decided Em's career as a pool attendant should end.

As Em has become serious about her school work I've wondered how she'd fit another job in with study and her other commitments, which I think are more important than money she'll just fritter away anyway. (These commitments include her involvement in the Young Achievers Program, singing in an Accapella group, taking a leadership role in her church youth group, helping out with our church childrens' program and making incredible cup cakes for any occasion that comes along - weddings, birthdays, church social nights, teacher's requests for school events. Then there's being on the student council at school, promoting the Red Cross Blood Bank donation program........I'm sure your'e getting the picture.)

Until recently Em's had to walk across her piles of stuff on her bedroom floor to reach her bed; she's also a very messy cook - though she usually does an ok job of cleaning up after herself in the kitchen. I guess that's why she's found herself a new job she thinks is a perfect fit. Cleaning luxury holiday units!!!

Having spent a day in training, Em begins her new job on Friday - though she has told me she'd like a few more pointers on making beds with 'hospital corners', otherwise she's good to go.

I think this is a great job for Em, as it will only be holiday work and pays reasonably well for a teenager, but being a realist I'm not holding my breath for any changes on the home front!

Em's wisdom

There's a woman at our church who is sneakily nasty to my Em.  Now it's easy to say that people within a church should not behave in that sort of nasty way, but you know what?  Churches are made up of people, and a lot of them are people with problems, because that's people!

Anyway, I was talking to Em about the latest incident with this woman, and I told Em that I was really sorry she had to put up with this nastiness from Mrs J, and that I wished I could make it stop.  Em's reply just floored me:  "I need Mrs J to keep being mean to me."

As my head snapped back and forth in a double take and I indicated my total lack of understanding, Em explained that having to put up with Mrs J helps her to grow as a person. If Mrs J stops being mean to her, she'll stop working out how to be a nice person around people like Mrs J.  Having to do that is helping her grow and mature as a person.

Can I just say right now, that as much as I'd like to claim this was my good parenting, I think it's a matter of genetics.  Em's Dad thought and acted like this, it's why he was so easy to love and live with.  While Em is a very typical 16 year old in many ways, in others, I have much to learn from her.

Practical skills from school!

Davey came home from school full of talk about his Metal Work project. He told me how the teacher's assistant donned welding gear to do the spot welding required on the metal bookshelf Davey had made. Davey liked the humour of the name 'Weldinator' written across the top of his welding mask, and he talked about enjoying the skills he's gaining with workshop tools. As a sole parent it makes me feel good to know he's gaining blokey skills at school.

The photos below show that's not the only type of skills he's learning at school. Davey saw some cuffs on sale at local markets and figured his term of sewing (where all students make a zippered pencil case with lining and appliqued patterns) had given him the necessary skills to make his own.


I like the well rounded education!

Parent Teacher Interview

We're 3/4 of the way through the school year here in Australia and that means it's parent/teacher interview time.  Davey's school has introduced online booking times this year, which meant I was able to book times with the teachers I wanted to see rather than those Davey managed to find and book a time with.

His Maths, Science and Music teachers gave Davey, who accompanied me, the comments I expected.  They weren't the comments Davey expected however.  He is in the top 3 in these classes, yet Davey was genuinely shocked that the teachers spoke of his attentiveness, work ethic and grasp of the subject matter.  He even teared up when I was talking to him later about his Maths teacher's comments.  When I asked him why he was surprised at the comments, he said his teacher had never directly praised him before, so he'd assumed his teacher didn't have a high opinion of him.  If his teacher had known Davey thought that, he would have been very shocked.  As we took our seats in front of him at the beginning of the interview Mr R had commented that he didn't know why we were there as Seb was the perfect Maths student.  Mr R didn't know how much Davey needed to hear that.  Mr R didn't know that excelling in a subject doesn't mean the student feels competent - not when that student has the lack of self belief that Davey has anyway.

The interviews with Davey's English and Art teachers were also really good for Davey as they cleared up a couple of minor issues with both teachers and left Davey feeling newly positive about his abilities.  Yet it was the praise from his Maths teacher, who thought Davey knew how highly he thought of him, that was most beneficial for Davey to hear.

It was a great reminder to me that my teenage son doesn't have to make any effort to avoid big noting himself to others because he doesn't think very highly of himself, that what seems obvious to me and his teachers is not at all obvious to Davey.

While I think it's great that Davey achieves well at school, I know that unless he feels he is worthwhile as a person and that his best IS good enough, no academic achievement in this world will help him feel that his life has meaning.