AND SO BEGAN ADOLESCENCE
"Adolescence is a period of rapid changes. Between the ages of 12 and 17, for example, a parent ages as much as 20 years." Unknown Author
I have always been afraid of teenagers. I was afraid of teenagers even when I was a teenager. I was painfully shy, fearful and a social wallflower. I didn’t drink, didn’t party, didn’t date, didn’t cut classes. In addition, being a girl when I was a teenager I felt totally unprepared to raise four teenage boys.
At the age of fifteen every one of my four sons decided they could now start talking back to me. It was like clockwork, almost as if the older one told the next one down “Oh yeah and when you turn 15, don’t forget to talk back to Mom.” Every time this happened I simply did not have the energy or desire to deal with it so I went to my husband Jon and said “Jon you need to talk to your son. He just talked back to me.” So Jon then called the offending boy into his den. He would sit him down and tell him “Don’t EVER talk to my wife like that again! I did not choose you but I chose her. And you’re nothing special, I have three more just like you. So she takes precedence.” They were a little aghast at the heavy handedness. He would continue, “You don’t have to like her all the time but you do have to treat her with respect. And by the way you might want to look around because you have one of the better Moms out there.” They would nod their head, properly chastised and as they got up to leave he would add, with the slightest of grins, “And don’t make her crazy because I have to live with her for the rest of my life and I don’t want to live with a crazy person.” And from that day on that son would never talk back to me again and I would have a reprieve until the next son turned 15.
And so began adolescence.
I was loving my little school age boys and I kept hearing the same warning “Just wait until they’re teenagers!” So I tried to prepare myself for the worst. And that’s how I went into this stage of their lives — prepared for battle.
One afternoon son number two, Jake, called and asked if I could pick him up at his friend, Rob’s house. As I drove up I was surprised to see Jake talking to a young man with shockingly bright rock star orange hair. I got out of the car thinking Oh no, what kind of kids is he hanging around with. As I approached, Jake did what I had taught him, “Mom, this is my friend Rob.” Rob very kindly put out his hand to shake mine and said “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.” I looked him right in the eye and said “MRS. ALEXANDER” because, I thought, no child with orange hair was going to call me by my first name. From that day on he called me Mrs. Alexander until one day after getting to know this beautiful, kind and gentle person I told him, it was ok, he could call me Laura. Rob had won me over but I was still suspicious of everyone else.
It’s a difficult thing to watch - teenage boys struggling to figure out how to be men. One evening they are sitting next to you on the couch pouring out their heart and the next day they are strutting around with testosterone dripping out of their pores. One day Zach, my oldest and my husband were having an argument. Zach by this time had grown to be nearly six feet tall and Jon is six foot two. They were in each other’s face talking very loudly. At one point Zach pulled himself up into the tallest he could be. Hands at his side in tight fists getting right in my husband’s face trying to make himself look bigger. Jon responded by pulling himself into the tallest he could be and got right up and over Zach’s face. I thought for sure someone was going to hit someone. Zach must have realized that this would not go well if he pushed any further because he relaxed, backed down and stormed into his room. I wish I had a video of this encounter. I’m sure I could have sold it to a sociologist as a perfect example of male posturing in the animal kingdom.
Where adolescent girls are into the drama and getting in your face, boys are just the opposite. Once they hit high school they come into the house and head to their room and shut the door. If you’re lucky they come out again when they turn 19. Communication is a huge problem because teenage boys don’t talk, they grunt. “How was school” “Uh” “Where are you headed tonight?” “Uh”. Jake and I were at Best Buy one day and I asked one of the male teenage workers where I could find some CD labels. He pointed to an aisle and went “Uh”. Jake turned to me and said “Mom that kid just grunted at you.” I said “Yeah, welcome to my world.”
When teenage boys are around you can’t avoid them. They are very physical. They can’t just walk past each other in the hall, they whack each other as they go by. When they walk into a room, they FILL a room. They are all hands and big feet and long legs and arms, everything out of proportion to the rest of their body. They stretch awkwardly over couches, limbs dangling in every direction never looking like they fit. Occasionally Jon and I would return home from dinner out and our living room would be filled with big male teenage bodies hanging off couches filling the living room even if it was only three of them. Surrounded by snacks of every kind and the best kind of deep male laughter coming from bodies that had not yet caught up with their changing voices.
I kept my eyes and ears open as much as I could. We had a core group of parents who were in constant communication reporting to the group if anything was up. But sometimes I would just happen to be in the right place at the right time and catch them red handed. At those times I would pretend that I knew exactly what they were up to and hadn’t just caught them by chance. I made sure my boys thought I was watching every minute. I remember overhearing Jake talking to Sam. He was saying “Don’t think she doesn’t know what you’re up to, somehow she knows everything. She just chooses her battles.” Not true but a good thing for them to believe.
And this is how it went for awhile. I was always on the lookout for misbehavior and lack of respect. I didn’t trust any of their friends no matter how pleasant they were to me. I couldn’t get all of the past warnings out of my head. I always assumed the worst. The joy I had felt parenting my young boys had left me. This went on until one weekend when I went camping with seven teenagers.
It was at Wright’s Lake up in the Tahoe area. It was late, about 10 pm and the seven teenagers and I were heading out on the lake with the canoes. It was very dark and the canoes were tippy because we also were carrying the tiki lamps (our only light) and a box of firewood and as they do with rooms, teenage boys FILL canoes. The lake was very still. The bugs had retired for the night and it was cool but not cold. Everything was perfect, I could feel it. We headed for the “rock island” in the middle of the lake which is really not an island but is three huge rocks clumped together. It was oh so quiet. We were even whispering so as not to disturb the peace. There was a mother duck with her babies sitting on the rock and we all felt bad for her as she woke them and scooted them into the water when we approached. One of the kids was the first to notice the stars – the milky way in all its magnificence!! Otherworldly!! Like nothing any of them had ever seen before. They were in awe. We climbed up on the rock and stretched out on our backs to watch the stars while Chris started the fire. I tried to be very quiet and not be the parent. I bit my tongue when I became worried that Chris was too close to the fire. I didn’t want to spoil the moment. The fire was crackling—it was beautiful reflecting in the water. Everyone was mesmerized by the Milky Way. I was at such peace I looked at the stars, the fire, the lake and Mama duck with her babies looking for a safe spot to sleep. They finally settled on the back of the rock just enough out of our reach to feel safe. We all felt better now too that they had settled again. I was lying on this rock listening to the kids laughing and joking quietly and pointing out and watching for falling stars and totally appreciating the beauty. They seemed to have forgotten that I was there as they shared stories and dreams almost in a whisper so as not to break the spell. And I felt this feeling of pride and joy roll over me like a soft blanket. Finally, the fire was crackling down and there was a surreal glow to the whole scene. It didn’t last long – 30 minutes maybe. Then the fire got low, we started getting cold, it was time to go. We gave Mama Duck her place back and quietly canoed back to the shore and I thanked God for putting these wonderful, grateful, inspirational teenagers in my life.
I love teenagers.