That's what I call them. Damnteenagers. I have two of them. Granted, I didn't birth them but they are mine just the same. I've always heard people talk about how hard teenagers were and I always thought those people were out of touch, old fogeys. I always assumed that I would be able to connect and understand MY teenagers. NOT completely true.
I have one headed toward the end of damnteenager life and one just started and I don't understand either of them. I have no idea what goes on in their minds. I have no idea WHAT THEY WERE THINKING. I actually wonder if they're thinking at all.
Sometimes I get to the point where I wonder if they'll be okay adults. I wonder where we've gone wrong because HOLY HELL they just don't seem to get it. And then they do something brilliant. Something responsible. Something kind and considerate. Something that makes me tear up with pride. And I see a glimpse of what kind of adult they'll be (if we let them live).
I pray, God knows I've prayed and I'll keep praying for them until my last breath. I pray they'll be okay. I pray they'll make good choices. I pray that our example and our rules have been enough.
I heard someone once say that during the teenage years you just have to "hold on". Not "hold on" to your teenager. But hold on to your hope and your faith that they'll get through these years fine, without a criminal record and with all limbs and brain cells intact.
It reminds me of a roller coaster that you really don't wanna be on. Every roller coaster I've ever gone on is one I didn't wanna be on. I hate them. But I go because my kids or my husband says they're fun and I don't wanna be a party pooper. I figured out while riding the coaster that if I fight it and freak out, the anxiety is worse. I've learned to close my eyes, breath deep and have faith. A million people ride roller coasters every day and they get through it fine.
So, I'm just going to hold on, breath deep and have faith that my damnteenagers will be okay.