The parent of adolescents is part of who I am in these years of my life, and it is a weird, wonderful and painful experience, which confuses, puts perspective and humbles. I try to do the best I can but wish there was a more comprehensive user manual.
.
Not understanding a thing
.
For years I’ve read articles about adolescent brains,
focus and index finger meandering through twin studies
of fascinatingly pimply youths.
The surprising findings of physiological programming for all-
night gaming, morning conflicts, agreements made and lost
in reorganizing, rearranging neurons and synapses.
.
My time comes and sharp counsel from the uninitiated grates against
soothingly philosophical reminiscences from survivors,
because everyone knows the answers, but the questions aren’t clear.
Now, I just struggle from crisis to crisis in a heady cocktail of hormones
and philosophy, and self-questioning on paths I hadn’t planned to travel,
where I find myself looking up at my child and not understanding a thing.
.
.
Perfectly put, Rilla! We had about 2 years when the girls were ghastly to each other every day and sometimes I didn’t want to come home to all the conflict. I read all the advice and did my best but didn’t always keep my temper. Now it’s passed and I can look back philosophically but then it was horrible and I don’t believe anything I could have done would truly have made a difference. I’m proud of the young women they have become, with or without my help!
Thank you for the comment, Samantha, and always good to hear from survivors!
And you Only have 2……. Keeps us on out toes i guess. 🙂