Raising children can be a wonderful, yet daunting experience, sometimes you feel powerless and overwhelmed; from a colicky new-born to a hyper toddler who makes you feel like you are under a terrorist attack (those little humans can really test your limits), to an overactive pre-teen who refuses to be treated like a child, and triggers actual fear when puberty hits—which reminds me of a cousin whose 11-year-old daughter developed breasts and she (the mother) wondered if there was a way to squeeze them back in. I had a good laugh with that one. And then the teen. As the mother of a teenager myself, I do not know if it is getting harder to raise them, or if it has long been this nerve-wracking. I miss the days when I’d just put a cartoon on for her to watch and go about my business. Now I worry about TV shows and movies that claim they are suitable for 15-year-olds, but on watching, I feel a little shy myself, reminding me of how dramatic my own mom would get when a kissing scene randomly popped. Don’t even get me started with dresscode, I’m a firm believer in letting people express themselves, but let us also leave something to the imagination. That’s all I ask. Is it the truth? As a 17-year-old, I worry about her in school, wondering if she is in class or dodging it to chill with a boy who cannot explain his own feelings if he had a gun to his head. When she says she wants to hang out with friends during the holiday, we discuss it for days. I need to know these friends. “I want to go for swimming with Betty and Stella,” she says. “Who’s Betty, now?” I ask. She rolls her eyes … “I have mentioned Betty very many times,” she says. “It is the first time I’m hearing of this Betty,” I quickly add. “No boys?” I ask. It always amuses me how it seems to annoy her when I ask her this. She makes a noise of exasperation, and her temper instantly rises. But it is a legit question. “Boys can be friends too,” I say, although we both know I’m not inquiring about boys who are friends, rather, a boyfriend. I want to know if ‘we’ are trying to meet up with a boy so we can discuss terms and conditions. I don’t want to hear about Betty and Stella only to find out Peter was the plot. But she says I can trust her, so I do, albeit unenthusiastically. During the outing, I receive many photos, it seems it is just her, Betty and Stella like she said, but a little voice keeps whispering that Peter was told to hide and stay away from picture time. But I don’t see him anywhere, so let’s move on. I also see only soda bottles on the table, I wonder if they are hiding the alcohol and if that place is stupid enough to serve alcohol to minors, because this is how I sue and become rich—we will deal with the fact that she was drinking after. Just being honest. Still my ‘little girl’ I love that she still wants my attention, makes me believe that the child in her is still very much alive and that makes me happy. We laugh and talk about pretty much everything, including boys; in fact, we came to a verbal agreement that boyfriends are for when she’s 25, and we are going ‘old school’ with ‘no sex before marriage’. That means if she has to be a 30-year-old virgin, so be it. I know it is wishful thinking on my part but I’m not out here trying to be a grandmother any time soon. I know it sounds extreme and selfish but sometimes it is necessary. I recently watched ‘Young, Famous and African’, a reality TV show on Netflix, and one of the ladies in the show said her 15-year-old has her own apartment, and she (the mother) let’s her do anything, because she trusts her to make the right decisions…or something to that effect. This, of course, didn’t sit well with some of the people she was having the conservation with, saying the girl was too young to be given that kind of freedom. And I agree. But I also know that what works for one, doesn’t work for another, what if the 15-year-old is a lot more responsible than some adults? Parenting is different for us all, many of us are learning on the job. You can have a whole soccer team of kids and still need guidance. Learning from each other My own experience with mothering a teenage girl is that she still wants to hold my hand, but is insistent that she knows the right way forward. She is becoming her own person, and I have to respect that. I’ve learned to recognise the good; has she given me reason to worry? Not exactly. But it could be worse; teenage rebellion is real, I am a living example, but that is a story for another day. My mom once said that the only way I’d understand how badly I behaved was if I had a child just like me. I say this with utmost sincerity, beating my chest in protest, God forbid. Today, with every ounce of energy in my not-so-young body, I rebuke that! I ask God to leave that mind-crippling demon in the past where it belongs. It makes me think of so many things affecting teenagers today, hostility, eating disorders, self-harm, sexual maturity (and the consequences that come with it) and depression, to name a few. It’s a nightmare. As she moves into a bigger world, I must confront my worries, fears and expectations. This is the age where actions have serious consequences. And they tend to listen to their peers more; I don’t know how many times I have listened to ‘facts’ given to her by a friend. Have you ever tried to correct someone and you are looked at like you are the one making stuff up? It hurts, I tell you. Raising a teen can also be a time to work on my own shortcomings, because apparently these youngsters are ‘woke’, and they will go for your weakest spot. But with her own perspective on life, maybe, I can learn a lot from her, too.
