Raising teenagers can best be described by a Deadpool movie
quote, “Here’s the thing. Life is an endless series of trainwrecks with only
brief commercial-like breaks of happiness. This had been the ultimate
commercial break. Which meant it was time to return to our regularly scheduled
programming.”
Everything is cruising along and you think you have a handle
on this teen parenting only to be kicked in the teeth and slapped upside the
head with reality. And those moments can feel like they last an eternity in
comparison to the smooth sailing. I’m not going to sugar coat it. The teen
years are a challenge! Even for them.
Remember? Being in an adult body and trying to live up to
adult expectations without the life wisdom and frontal lobe development to be
an adult. It certainly explains a lot. It explains why no matter how many times
we tell them to stop in an argument they just keep going. Or why they blow up
firecrackers in my freezer. Or even the dent in my car caused by an unlicensed 13-year-old.
And then we have moments where I can hardly believe how amazing my children
are. I come home from a long day at work and dinner is ready and the kitchen is
clean. I receive a text in the middle of the day that simply says, “I love you,”
from my 20-year-old son. The yard is clean and lawn mowed and I mentioned it to
no one.
Something happens to young men starting at about 13. I won’t
forget the day my son took an aggressive stance with me. Posturing with his
chest out and shoulders back. I first wanted to laugh. Did he really think that
would intimidate me? I was a good 6 inches taller and outweighed him by 70 lbs.
I told him to just go to his room before I got angry and kept my laugh to
myself. How cute that he’s feeling bold today. I should have had a conversation
about it because the next time he positioned himself this way was with his
father. And Dad wasn’t having it.
Tears, anger and a bloody nose. Planning to punch your
father who is 6’ 220 pounds when you’re 15 and 5’ 90 pounds (on your best day)
is not going to be a wise decision nor will it give you the results you were
hoping for. I was not witness to the altercation and it certainly could have
been much worse. A bruised ego and hurting heart; they weren’t speaking to each
other. I’d love to say this was the last time they clashed but that’s a lie.
And it didn’t stop for two years.
My heart was hurting! I didn’t know if he was going to cause
his dad to have a stroke or my husband was going to take our son’s life. My
husband is the most patient man I know. Rarely is he angry or upset and I can count
how many times he’s yelled but they were both acting like people I didn’t know.
I did not have brothers and had never seen anything like this! I was so torn
between protecting my son and defending my husband.
I reached out for help. The overwhelming advice was to stay
out of it. If I defend my son then I undermine my husband and if I defend my
husband then we become a united enemy. The stories I heard were terrible! Fist
fights, screaming, fathers throwing their sons out of the house, and worse. It
was described to me as a young bull elk coming of age in a herd and challenging
the dominant elk for control. Yes, they fight. Yes, they charge at each other.
Yes, there are injuries. I stepped back. At times the arguments became so
heated my son would leave the house. There was at least one more bloody lip and
punch thrown. No serious injuries and I am not condoning violence, I’m being
real. Loss of privileges including his bedroom door happened. Terrible words
hung in the air. I’ve never seen my husband this angry or my son so frustrated.
No one wanted to come home from school or work. They weren’t
the only ones walking on eggshells. Our whole house was. It was either silence
or anger. Some days we welcomed the silence. At least there were no hateful
words or slamming doors. The rest of us just tried to stay out of the way.
It didn’t last forever. My son grew, not just physically but
mentally as well. He realized that his Dad was smart and really did love him.
Being hot headed was getting him nowhere in his relationship with his father.
He admired him, and has always wanted to be like him. He started to get it. The
confrontations became less and less. They took up hobbies they both enjoyed;
working on cars, hunting and NASCAR. Peace was returning to our home.
And then our daughter turned 13.
