Mid-CenturyModernMoms

Freaking Out

Rosie just started her junior year of high school, 11th grade.  In some countries, this is the last year of high school, but in the US, we have 2 more to go (including this one).

But she's already freaking out over where to go to college, but even more so over her classes this year.

To start with she didn't get the Ceramics teacher that she wanted (and had had the last 2 years).  She got the mean one.  Who everyone else is transferring out of the class.  And she was supposed to TA (teaching assist) for this woman.    So she tried to switch her amth class with her ceramics class- because that was the best blaock of classes to switch into the good teacher's class- but the honors math class was all filled up there- and Rosie was actually the 2nd person on the wait list for that class.

Then, she was freaking out that she didn't understand her Honors Biology and it was going to be too much memorization, and....  So I got her to go talk to the teacher- who basically said, if you think that this is hard now, you'd better drop down to college prep Bio.

So Rosie is then freaking out because she's dropping one of her honors classes and she has friends who are taking 4 of them, and she's never going to get into a good university ..... etc....

And then because she's freaking out, she is having trouble falling asleep.  So a few nights of giving her Benadryl (and it not working), she starts crawling into bed with me.  Which wouldn't be a problem except that the first few nights she tried this, she kept getting up to go back to her bed- and then coming back a few hours later...  So I was very tired- and she wasn't getting a lot of sleep either.  Now she's just coming to my bed for the night.  After all of her switches get taken care, I think (hope) that she'll calm down and I'll edge her out again.

And then there was going to 4 bookstores to get a book assigned for her English class. All of the local ones were sold out!  But she's doing her homework now, and I jsut get to guess what the next trauma will be.

Avoid the accident - give it one more day.

As a teenager I seriously contemplated suicide.  Life seemed too difficult to navigate.  I felt I contributed nothing of value to anyone else's life.  By 18 I was sure I had missed my opportunities to amount to anything and I felt embarrassed by that.  I felt unloved and unloveable.

I procured the means to carry out my demise and each morning lay in bed contemplating whether I'd get up and go to work or find peace. I did this for months and somehow found a reason to give life one more day, to see if things would improve.

My parents had no idea I was depressed - they lived 600 miles away, though that made little difference really, as they didn't have a close relationship with any of their 4 children. I actually thought I'd be saving face for them too as my mother had hoped I'd become a doctor and was embarrassed I'd dropped out of school and was working in a clerical job.  (I'd left home at 16 to escape my parents' dysfunctionality, a decision I still think was the right one 32 years later.)

I don't know what made my depression lift, but it did.  I did seek counselling which was marginally successful, but which led me to reading numerous self help and psychology books.  These books helped me unravel some of the puzzle of my family and helped me to see a path that was bright in its own right, without it being the path my parents wanted me to travel.  These books also helped me to accept myself as the unique, and perhaps eccentric, person I am - though it's a continuing work!

When Em's friend Niel ended his life in mid June, I remembered my own dark times.  I wonder often how his closest friends are coping now.  To be honest I think now is a danger time for them as they cope with feelings of inadequacy and struggle with their grief, while the rest of the world moves on with little thought of Niel.  I wish I could tell each of their parents to be emotionally close to their child;  to be open to hearing their thoughts without judgement or censure; to tell their teen with words and deeds that they have immense value to them JUST AS THEY ARE; that they are loved JUST AS THEY ARE.

Of course this will not guarantee that their teen will not attempt suicide.  Nothing can give us that guarantee. And goodness, don't we all know that we are not the only, or even the biggest, influence in our teens lives!  I know most of Niel's friends are receiving counselling, and I know it's good counselling.  Most, but not all.  The girl he was speaking to on the phone when he took his own life is not receiving counselling.  This girl needs it most of all, as many - including Niel's parents - have told her she should have done more to prevent Niel's death.

There's the rub with teen suicide.  There's always finger pointing.  There's always blame.  I guess that's the same if a teen dies in a car accident too, yet I argue that suicide is also an accident.  An accident of thought.  Sometimes it's the result of one impetuous decision on the highway of life.  Other times it can be as though a 20 mile highway pile up of negative thinking and icidents crashes into the teen's thoughts and tragedy ensues.  It's still an accident.  An accident of thought.

Just as we teach our children to drive, equipping them with skills to drive on the road, we also have the task of teaching our children to live, equipping them with life skills.  I advocate taking our teaching tasks seriously, but I also advocate for no finger pointing and blame laying when accidents happen.

As I was writing this post, I received an email from Margalit which contained the horrific news of her son's suicide attempt.  I wondered if I should still make this post, and decided I should, because it merely demonstrates that accidents can happen to any one of us.

Davey & I watched a well thought out talk on suicide - though we didn't realise that's what it was going to be about when we started watching.  I recommend it and so does Davey, here's a link: Max Barry on Risk.

Twilight

It opens tonight. Twilight. The movie every teen girl is supposed to be looking forward to. The vampire love story that has captured the hearts and minds of teen and young adult girls. And quite a few women bloggers, if my reading is correct. I know people who saw it last night when it was released in the west. They waited on line to see it. Some for hours and hours. For a vampire movie!

Needless to say, my daughter has no interest whatsoever in this movie. Or the books. Or vampires. It's totally not her thing. Of all the teenagers we know, not one of them has any interest in the books or movie. It's like this whole popular culture phenomenon just passed over our town. Oh, I'm sure some of the middle school kids are going to the film tonight. But the high school girls? Nope, not really interested.

It makes me wonder what makes a pop culture phenom in one place and elicits total disinterest in another place. For example, in my blog reading I've seen many many young moms going nuts over the Twilight series of books. They speak rapturously about how the love story moved them. They couldn't wait to get through one novel in order to start the next. It was like the Harry Potter books, except that most adults talking about the books admitted they weren't that well written. It was just the story that kept them interested.

I am not a fan of the vampire genre. I don't like horror movies either. Even ones with a love story. So I didn't bother to read the books and I suppose that my disinterest caused a bit of my daughter's lack of interest. But the truth is, she's not a reader, she wouldn't ever pick up a book like Twilight, and this is so not a movie she would be willing to spend her hard earned money upon.

Which got me to wondering. Is this movie going to be as big as all the hype? Are your teenage kids panting to see it? Have they read the books? Did they like the books as much as the Harry Potter series?

Enquiring minds want to know!

Of Belly Buttons, Locusts and Peanut M&Ms

By Jenny Gardiner

It's taken me a while to figure this out. Well perhaps more like it's taken me a while to pinpoint the comparison. But finally it dawned on me what teens are like: locusts.

Okay, I don't mean that literally. But the thing is, once kids get old enough to be utterly self-sufficient while not concerned necessarily with being responsible, they're capable of such indirect destruction, they can be compared to a plague of locusts. Or at least a swarm.

This morning I woke to a clean kitchen. Helped youngest get ready and off to school, came back, cleaning as I went along. Next went to spinning class, returning home early enough to corral shift #2 (the older two) off to school.

But what greeted me when I returned to the house? My clean kitchen was ravaged. In one short hour, it went from crumb-and-dish-free to riddled with all of the above and then some. But where a swarm of locusts would sweep in and strip bare all that is before them, my kids instead left a trail of evidence. Starting with the remnants from yesterday's backpacks: dirty soccer gear, boxers, sweatshirts, socks, uneaten lunch box contents (left to fester in the sink). Homework papers and discarded tests left on bar stools and on the steps, phone chargers, ponytail holders, hairbrushes, flipflops, sneakers, everywhere. You name it.

And then there was the trail of breakfast and lunch detritus randomly left out for the house elves to put back: the butter (crumb-laden), crusted cereal bowls, knives (for both butter and peanut butter and jelly). Empty Tostidos and pretzel bags. One of those damned Propel packets, empty of its contents, corner snipped and on the floor. Cinnamon Toast Crunch box with 2 lonely nuggets remaining in the bottom. Cups, juice, milk, smoothie ingredients hardening in the blender. The list goes on and on. Crumbs by the toaster. Crumbs by the stove. Tea bags left to dribble on the counter, right near the speckles of honey and the scattered granules of sugar.

I pointed out this locust comparison to the older two who laughed and acknowledged their culpability. They walked out the door, late as usual to school (despite not having to be there till 9:40 a.m.), leaving mom to be the one following the elephants in the circus. My son did kindly point out that they are actually more like 'reverse-locusts,' what with their leaving so much behind, rather than barren stalks and no evidence of the presence of any life besides that. Such is the glamorous life of a writing mom.

It's been a teen sort of week here. Middle child turned 16, declaring a few weeks ago her intent to have her belly-button pierced for her Sweet 16. Mind you, I saw Lisa Ling suffer through a navel-piercing when she tried out for The View years ago on TV. I witnessed her ashen face, her intent to win a coveted slot on the show overcoming her common sense at the time. My #2 hates needles. Absolutely hates them--to the point of passing out on them. Thus we gave her our blessings to go ahead and pierce away, figuring  A) there are far worse methods of self-mutilation. And B) what are the chances she'll really go through with it?

Did I mention she hates needles?

In the meantime, while I weather the storms of teen behavior, I'm facing my own anxieties head-on. While my next book is on submission and awaiting reactions from editors, I am taking the bull by the horns and doing what any lilly-livered wuss with food-as-comfort issues would do: stress-eating peanut M&Ms. Green ones, if that matters at all.

Does Your Teen Read Books?

Posted by Neener

Does your teenager read for pleasure?  I don't think the idea even occurs to my kid anymore.

What happened to the little guy who'd pore over Where's Waldo and use a flashlight under the covers to read Harry Potter?  Did aliens eat the child who couldn't wait for the next Redwall?  I once had a reader.  Now I have a computer surfer/gamer/Facebooker/IM-er/podcast watcher.

G is now in 10th grade and only reads for school . . . because he has to.  He generally likes what he's reading for school. He actually loved The Odyssey so much that he actually bought a copy of The Illiad to read over the summer, but without the brilliant Joseph Cullen, an English teacher who should be knighted, he didn't get very far.  Put this boy in a large book store and he gravitates to the sci-fi, fantasy fiction and magazine sections.  He pretty much only reads gaming magazines, Car and Driver, and Mac User.  If I put Wired magazine in his face, say at an airport when we're flying somewhere, he'll read it.

We had a fabulous school librarian in New York who used to say about certain books, "don't leave childhood without it."  Considering the long list of books I'd place on the DLCWOI list, G has read maybe three.   He couldn't finish A Wrinkle in Time.  He wouldn't touch Catcher in the Rye.  He hasn't even read To Kill A Mockingbird!

I recently scored a major hit with Steve Wozniak's book, iWoz . He's read it like three times.  I guess that's pleasure reading for him.  But I never see G just escape into a book unless we're in a media-free zone or I've banned TV and video games.

Just today I read an essay by an old fart my age who predicts that email will soon be dead because our kids prefer texting, IMing and Twittering.  So as email dwindles, will writing die too?  If that's the case just kill me now, OK.

Labels: parenting, reading