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| Credit: Creative Commons (sporkist) |
You don't know me, but our paths have crossed before in shopping malls, on Facebook, and in the grocery store. Do not think poorly of me, but through the years, I have occasionally overheard bits and pieces of some of your conversations about your teenage kids. Quite frankly, some of those bits and pieces of conversations I have picked up on have made me sad.
Please understand that I do not doubt your love for your teenager: As best as I can tell, you have provided your child with a safe home, their basic needs, and everything they need to thrive. There might even be some days when you look at a photo of you holding your son soon after his birth or a piece of art you've kept all these years that your daughter drew in kindergarten, and you remember just why you keep doing this crazy thing called parenting.
Still, I would kindly request that you break the habit of demeaning your teenager in public conversations--especially within earshot of your teenagers or on Facebook, where your teenager will read it. It has become, unfortunately, acceptable and even popular for parents to speak unkindly about their teenagers in a humorous manner. Your teenager does not need to hear you making sarcastic remarks in a public setting about how lazy he or she is or how you're fed up with him or her. I understand that it might have begun as simply a humorous way to cope with the stress of being a parent of a teenager.
However, your words have power, not just when others hear them, but they also have power over you when you say them repeatedly. When you say something often enough, you start to believe it, and I sincerely hope you do not really mean some of the things you've said. In addition, I'd like to point out that if I ever talked as openly about wanting to strangle my three-year-old as you do about wanting to strangle your teenager, I am quite sure that I would receive a visit from our local social worker. I'm not quite sure when it became so in vogue to publicly threaten the physical safety of our teenage children. There is nothing wrong with venting to or seeking the advice from a trusted friend. Parenting is tough, and the more people you can have supporting you, the better. But you and I both know there is a big difference between talking with a friend about how your teenager is failing three classes and saying some of the things you've said about her, which I'd rather not repeat.
No, I am not a parent of a teenager--yet. I have never experienced first-hand the struggles that come with being a parent of a teenager: The emotional roller coaster that comes with their heightened hormones, the inclination to rebel in their quest to find their identity, the slamming doors, or the silent mornings after a terrible fight. Though I am only a parent of preschool girls at this stage in my life, I do not believe that my girls--who still kiss me goodbye every morning and shout "DADDY!" at the top of their lungs when I return home--will be any less of a blessing when they have gained ten years and refuse to kiss my cheek in public. Yes, things will be different, and there may be a day when I reach the end of my rope as a parent. But they are a gift from God to me today, and they will be no less a gift should their teenage selves ever tell me they hate me because I have grounded them the same weekend as their friend's birthday party.
This letter is meant as a loving encouragement to you. I hope you know that I respect you for all that is on your plate as a parent. I'm still figuring out how to hand the middle-of-the-grocery-store-aisle tantrum; I can't say I would know how to handle the parental struggles you've been through. But I do know that you love your kids, and that the words you utter in public probably aren't what you really want to convey about your kids. Thanks for what you do as a parent, for sticking with it, and I pray that this letter would at least make you think twice before airing frustrations about your kids in such a public manner.
Sincerely,
Benjer
