The Time of the Tween

I remember when the kids were little, and I felt like I was drowning in nappies and toddler tantrums.

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I always presumed the path of parenting would get easier….

How wrong I was.

It just took a different route.

I had a few years where the road felt quite smooth, like freshly laid tarmac, with an occasional twist and turn.  Those years were the golden era, when most things could be pacified with a kiss and a cuddle and the naughty step was still a feared punishment.

The golden era quickly faded to a smashed up yellow brick road as more recently, we have entered the time of the tween.

Dorothy, we are not in Kansas anymore.

Parenting one tween must be like riding a bike that is on fire.  Parenting twin tweens is like riding a bike, on fire, through a hurricane, on a tightrope.

The tightly coiled mesh of emotions that co-exist in my home, are akin to placing a firework next to a flame, they are poised and ready to explode.

Each morning a different persona greets me.  Some days, I see the children I put to bed.  Other days, I see the devil reincarnate snarling through their bacon sandwich determined to crush anyone who crosses their path.

I won’t lie to you, it is terrifying.

I have learnt…

It is hard telling someone off when they can look you in the eye and are often wearing your shoes.

No one can eye roll like a child approaching puberty.

Homework for tweens is seriously hard – and it is all the parents fault that they can’t do it – genetics you know.

They never have time for anything, but they can tell you the name of ever character in Once and on Fortnight.

If you turn off the wifi, you have effectively ruined their life.

You need to take out stocks and shares in mugs, because when they turn twelve, a black hole opens up in their room and swallows anything you would ordinarily put tea in.

Their bedroom is no longer a shared resource.  It is invite only, and it is easier to get an invite to Beyonces’ dressing room.

Waving at them as you drop them at school and blowing kisses is a great way to feel good after a breakfast of eye-rolls.

They no longer appreciate it when you come and sit on the bath to chat with them.

They disapprove of you being naked in your own home.

They hate it when you remind them you grew them in your womb and try and push them out your vagina.

They still love you, but mainly only show it when they need a ride or cash.

However, I know this road will be short lived.  There is a stop junction up ahead and we are about to make a turn in a one way system.

The sign says teenager – that can’t be that hard…..

Can it?

 

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