I am always here

God, teenagers can be miserable buggers. I mean, I know that they have to deal with a whole load of shit on a daily basis, mainly parents, and I am also aware that life must be really hard when quite literally the whole world is against you. But surely it wouldn’t kill them to muster up a “hello” in the mornings? Are they in danger of cracking the layer of make-up with a smile? Don’t for Christ sake say that you actually liked the fact that I made you a cup of tea, or that you are grateful that I brushed up your crumbs and wiped the jam off the table (again), because you will be dropping your teenage guard and leaving yourself exposed to the possibility of a conversation with your mother. 

I have decided that I am actually battle scarred, because I can laugh about this now. A few years ago I was reduced to tears and screams of frustration almost on a daily basis. I don’t care less now, I am bothered less and I believe that there is a subtle difference. I seem to have developed an armour that protects me from teenage moods. The occasional sword still gets through and stabs me, which reminds me how cruel they can be. But mostly I am hardened to their sarcastic comments that try to put me in my older person’s place; their disgusted looks that are trying to tell me how sad I am and how I need to get a life. I have grown a turtle shell that, rather than pointlessly rising to comments, bounces them back in a jovial tone. I can smile at their tantrums and stand back from their worries a little, which makes the advice I can offer more meaningful. My own worries are less now too. I still want them to achieve, but I see their achievements as their own and that they must reach them on their own.

I am always here, a mere step away. They can still reach me with their voice or with two arms outstretched. I am here, I’m just not sitting in their space. 

12 thoughts on “I am always here”

  1. Can’t agree with you more – they are miserable little shits.
    We need a world war to bring everyone together fighting in the same direction against a common enemy… a sense of direction and purpose.
    Or let’s round up every moaning, know-all teenager and send them off to fight ISIS. They’ll sort them out in one big paddy-attack. Assuming it’s on a day when they CAN be bothered.

    Children – they’re such spongers

    x

  2. It is tough this whole parenting teenager malarkey, but chatting to a friend yesterday I said I felt I had turned a corner with my eldest at least – we went through a 6 month sticky period when his testosterone was pushing all the boundaries but now he seems to have relaxed into himself and bounced back into the gorgeous young man I love. My daughter is just starting to exercise her pubescent independence and I feel it may be a rockier road with her and at an earlier stage but I am getting my armour ready. So glad to see you back! #familyfun

    1. So glad you’ve got your son back and are all armored up for the next onslaught! Batten down the hatches!
      It’s so good to be back. I’m loving writing the book, but missing the contact with the blogging x

  3. My son only talks to me in the morning if he wants a lift to collage. Like you I barely hear the rubbish he comes out with most of the time. On occasion he riles me up, but he knows there is a point not to cross now lol. At the end of the day they all know we will be there no matter what.
    #FamilyFun

  4. Oh I love this!! With an almost 13 year old I totally relate. My son is never in these days, and when he is he is up in his room or on his playstation, but he knows where I am, just waiting for a cuddle when the opportunity arises and a conversation if a miracle occurs! #BloggerClubUK

  5. Well all I can hope is for me to achieve same for my little one in the future. Well said! ‪Thank you for linking up to the #familyfunlinky‬

  6. I love the message here. It’s definietly in point and as long as they know we’re always here – when they need, that’s all we can do. Thanks for joining us at #familyfun x

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