Friday 21 September 2007

Notes from the edge

"Mum, you can't do this to me. I want to break something. I have to go, Mum.

"I can't cope anymore. Right now, I'm not just depressed, I feel worse. I'm aggravated, distressed and I'm in a complete state of anxiety .....there's so much anger and sadness and I can't stop.

"Do you actually know what it feels like to watch the clock, count every day, second, moment, not care if you go to school and everyone spreads a rumour about some horribly embarrassing thing, and you don't care.

"I felt sick yesterday because I was so distraught.

"So now, I beg you, acknowledge you've read this through and I will beg you. I will plead with you.

"I feel I am entering hell."

What have I done to my almost fourteen year old daughter? I'll tell you what I've done. When, at 7.30 a.m, pre-school run and teaching job, we had what you could call a bit of a barney over a missing bit of PE kit, I did the 'If you don't stop screaming at me by the time I've counted three .....' business and then cancelled -

- a riding weekend which will be reinstated next year. No more, no less.

At her age, I was no nicer, but we were poorer. And it was a real struggle for my parents to buy me my first full size violin. How did we get from hardship to hysterics over a riding weekend in one generation?

Is it just hormones or inflated expectations? And hormones, is it hers or mine? If inflated expectations, do I prick them or puff in more hot air?

All advice welcomed.

PS She wants to be a writer. Does it show?

20 comments:

Anonymous said...

I just sat through my 6-year old daughter's hysterical crying, interspersed with regular glimpses of herself in the mirror to check on the effect, because she wanted to play playmobil and her brother didn't.
I think this overdramatisation after not-getting-her-own-way is a precursor to what you're experiencing.
Perhaps she could earn the weekend back somehow?
It's scary when you compare what they have with what we didn't have.

Omega Mum said...

Lol. God, how I recognise that looking in the mirror bit, Beta Mum. If she's anything like Beth, she'll soon graduate to taking photographs of her pouts, holding the camera out with one hand in front of her face. She recently spent an entire train journey doing this.

Potty Mummy said...

And my four-year old boy has already earned himself the family title of 'drama queen' (in the most masculine way possible, of course). Am inclined to be hard on cases like these - but then I've only had 4 years of it and not 14 like you - and money was tight in my child-hood too.
Don't all the parenting manuals say to be consistent and carry it through if you threaten a punishment? But then, they are books, and not there at the sharp end like you are. How about not cancelling - but not telling her, and if her behaviour improves then she gets the surprise of being able to go as a reward for smartening up her act? And if it doesn't improve - well then, you've been through the pain already and she doesn't have to know.
Or am I just soft?

Gwen said...

I'm not a mum but I do work with a lovely bunch of 12 - 16 year olds and they are very similar. They had a fall out last week and you would have thought that the world had ended. They were all in tears, some hugging others and others not speaking to yet more. All great fun!! I think its easy however to be a bit more detached when it is not your own children. You can step back and say - it's just their age. However you are a lot closer with closer emotional ties as a mother so that may make it harder to deal with I would imagine. Fear not - if nothing else it sounds like she will make an excellent writer.

Omega Mum said...

Potty Mummy: Thanks for this. Lots of food for thought. I have given in before - many times - but just feel that this is once too many. However, time and considered reflection may be a good thing - and your idea might well be the right one.

Gwen: I would love to know more about the work you do - you make a great honorary aunt by the sound of things.

DJ Kirkby said...

Put ear plugs in, it will be worth it! N1S was much the same, trips to New York, Europe etc, everything he asked for and more until we relised he had turned into a disrespectful jobless sponge, and it was partly our fault! We began cutting privlidges, expecting him to earn them and taking away treats until he GOT A JOB! We nearly died of shock! The respect thing...well...were still working on it but it just might be improving or perhaps our generation expects too much, lol.

Anonymous said...

Oh god, I've got one of those. She's past the horsey stage but wants jeans that cost half a month's wage (my wage, NB!). Like you, I wasn't nicer but much poorer. In fact, still feel poor even if my vice is cashmere rather than jeans.

Sometimes she winds me up so badly I want to hit her, but we don't do hitting chez o. (And anyway, it'd be a supremely bad idea - she's bigger than me.)

~sigh~ Thank you for letting me vent.

PS. Faintly related to above... I've heard there's an English telly-super-nanny who sends small kids to sit on "naughty steps". I'm not sure I approve but what interests me most is this... how the heck does she get them to stay there?

I Beatrice said...

Every girl's a drama queen at fourteen, OM! You just stagger through, and do the best you can.

And then the years roll round and you see your daughter coping with the same sort of thing from HER daughter - so you know it wasn't only you.

There's a kind of logic to it perhaps? There's poetic justice anyway - for what it's worth!

But I think this generations's youngsters have the advantage, at least, of knowing that they're listened to and taken seriously. For us, it was grin and bear it, or shut up. Mostly shut up - and often with disastrous consequences in later life.

One day, your daughter will look back on the things she said and wrote and ask you "Mum, how could you have let me get away with it?"

C'est la vie, that's all.

dulwichmum said...

Lovely Omega Mum!

I just saw your article in Dulwich Life Magazine. Well done. Go girl!

Omega Mum said...

Orchidea: It's nice to you you're not alone. And the naughty step never worked for us - unless you have one specially constructed in room with lock, can't see how it can.

IB: Will she really say that? What a fabulous idea. Bigger than a shred of hope - I'd say, oh, a large strand of the stuff

DM: Thanks ducky. Glad you liked it.

Anna said...

It's funny, I feel exactly half way between you and her. I remember so vividly how awful things can be at that age, and how one behaves terribly, simulaneously feeling bad for doing so yet feeling compelled to express some of the churning emotions. Being a teenager is often not fun.
For what it's worth, I'd suggest a big heart to heart about treating people with respect and recognising one is not the centre of the universe (a difficult concept at that age). If she's anything like me, she will look back at some stage in wonder that she wasn't quietly knocked on the head for all the ranting...

lady macleod said...

I vote it's hormones, both of you. When Q was 13 we had a period of time, short thank the gods, wherein she was having teenage angst and I was having menopause - wars have been started with less cause.. Just keep breathing.

Mya said...

Can't you get Bad Lindy to sort her out?

Seriously though, I remember the horsey stage - and how INCREDIBLY important it all seemed. I think I'd be feeling pretty bad too, at her age. But that doesn't mean you should give in to her. Sorry, I'm absolutely no help at all!

And she's definitely got your writing gene.

Mya x

Unknown said...

You are a great mother. When your children hate you, that's a good thing. Just like me - as a teacher - I'm happy when they hate me. It always passes. And in the end, they love you for being hard with them.

Omega Mum said...

Oooh, I do love you all...

Anna: I think we might both have failed on the respect front - but I know I have to act more grown up than her. Sometimes I struggle

Lady M: Inhaling as I write. Thanks

Mya: Lessons in life from Bad Lindy? Hmm. Not sure.

Snuffles: Thank you, thank you, thank you. Beth has been reading all the comments over my shoulder. She is definitely going to be seeing this one. Probably over and over again.

Gwen said...

Hi Omega Mum.

By day I am your average PA. However by night I am transformed into "Girls Brigade Officer".

Seriously though I take a Girls Brigade section every Monday night. At the moment I am doing cooking with them. They really love cooking - I think because of the potential to make an almighty mess.

Sometimes it can be hard going but I think that it is really important to offer something to youngsters in the way of activities that they enjoy and be someone to whom they can talk and who is not a parent or teacher. It can be really rewarding. Any other questions, please don't hesitate to ask.

Around My Kitchen Table said...

I don't have children but I have loads of nephews and nieces - and the happiest ones are the ones with the strictest parents. They know their boundaries and what will and will not be accepted. Mind you, it doesn't stop them complaining! Lovely 12-year-old niece told me disgustedly the other day, "They make me do LAUNDRY!", in a tone of voice better suited to a comment like, "They make me eat WORMS for my tea!" Doing laundry, apparently, involves nothing more onerous than folding up clothes!

Omega Mum said...

Gwen: I am riveted - do you plan to blog about this 'cos would be fascinated.

Around my kitchen table: So reassuring. Thank you. And useful to know that my real worm meals are probably not an approved route to good parenting.

debio said...

I am sooo going through the 'drama' bit with my daughter. Why say something nicely and calmly when you can ramp it up to a 5 Act tragedy with numerous sub-plots?

It has really got to me lately but, reading this, and knowing I'm not alone has cheered me up no end.

Gwen said...

I have written the odd blog post here and there about my exploits with the group. I'll have a wee think and maybe do another one with more of an overall view.