The teenage years

My 16 year old daughter and I are struggling through the teenage years and trying to work on our relationship with each other. A few weeks ago I decided it had reached the point of needing professional help. Of course, she doesn’t think any of this is necessary but is reluctantly participating. We have already had a “together” session and now we are heading to her “one-on-one session.” It will be her turn to vent about me, while I sit in the waiting room and try to read a book.

We drive to the counseling center in silence. Me, pretending to listen to the radio. She, text messaging all of her friends. I can tell that she is nervous about this, and texting somehow makes her feel more secure. She looks so young and innocent all of a sudden.

We arrive and she goes into her “one-on-one session”. I am left in the waiting room, looking around at my surroundings. The office is in an old church which has been converted to an office. I am pretty sure that every furnishing in the room has been chosen for its soothing qualities. The music is classical and the reading material is sophisticated. There are no People or Us magazines for some reason. There are only beautiful books such as “20,000 Years of World Paintings”. I am pretty sure I will only be able to get through about 50 years of paintings during the allotted forty-five minute session. I am hoping that things will improve between us before I am able to make it through all 20,000 years of this book.

In this tranquil space it is hard to imagine some of the yelling and arguing that have gone on between me and my daughter. I know that this is normal teenager-parent conflict and I know that it will get better some day, but that is no consolation for right now. No one tells you how painful and difficult parenthood can be. I want to laugh and play with my precious daughter again, just like when she was little. That is why I have made the commitment to be here, and that is why I have forced her to come here with me. I will fight for this relationship as long as it takes.

While this process has been emotionally draining for both of us, I am starting to see signs of improvement. She comes out of the counselor’s private office and walks toward me with a smile on her face. We decide to stop at the grocery store on the way home. While a grocery store experience is usually not the highlight of my day, today it is. We shop together, pick out some food that we both like, and she tells me some things that are going on in her life. For the moment our world is harmonious. Please let this last.

Peggy

Summer

The husband is at work. The lunches are made. The kids are at camp. The dog has been to the dog park and is now sleeping on the floor. No one is scheduled to come to the house. It is the first time since summer began that I can sit down and just relax and be alone. My first thought is to reflect and write.

My daughter is growing up. I adore looking at her with her long gazelle legs and her skinny girl body. She just got a beautiful short haircut – her own idea – and shed the long baby hair. She is having play dates and going swimming and has a beautiful tan with a smattering of freckles across her nose. She sleeps late and seems happy. I know this is the calm before the storm as she threatens to become a full blown adolescent.

My son is going to camp and has friends. He is bruised and scabbed and much darker then the rest of us. He has “tiger feet” from the uneven tan his Keens make. He falls asleep instantly at night telling me he is playing hard.

Everyone seems to be in a good groove. We have settled into our summer routine, a slower and less rushed pace. This moment is so fragile. I will try to appreciate it until the spell is broken.

Elisabeth

Updates

Thanks to Kristin, Kristina, Julie, and Kai for coming to the meeting last night.

Krsitin is going to help me make the blog more interactive so that anyone interested can be registered to submit to the blog themselves. We are also going to change the "about me" to make it more about the group. Finally, we will start to work on on marketing to attract more viewers.

Keep working on the "this I believe" pieces.

Next meeting is Saturday July 18 at 8am at Catalyst on Drake and Shields.

Happy Writing!

Remembering Miles

Today is the anniversary of the birth/death of my son Miles. He would have been seven years old today.

How is it possible that so many years have passed when the pain is still raw and fresh. How is it possible that he has not aged a day and still is my newborn baby when my other children are now nine and four. How is it possible that my brother and his partner have planted seven years worth of trees in his honor.

Miles still lives with me, and secretly I consider myself to be a mother of three and not two. I still cannot understand why people don’t miss-ask-wonder about his absence. I still wish I could touch him and see what he would look like as a two year old, five year old, seven year old.

But I can’t. And my other children will be awake soon and I must get lunches made for camp. I will try not to let them see me cry. I am sorry I could not bring him safely into this word.

E