Healthy Teenagers, Dragon Mothers
Without Prejudice
It's hard to be a tough mother, especially to teenagers, but trust me after seeing four girls through the "worst of times " you have to muscle up, " man up " and just be a tough Mum as well as a best friend, companion, teacher, role model,. Teenagers respect boundaries believe it or not. They are seeking direction, slaves to their hormones, and most importantly suitably impressed by their peer group.
Their peer group are everything, you, the parent, are just an old fashioned ancient old fogey that doesn't understand. They will push your every boundary, question your choices, try to turn you inside out in their quest to be a teenager. They will experiment with sex, alcohol, drugs, freedom, sleep all day and seem to be in a fog the rest of the time.
I have raised three teen girls of my own, one foster daughter, and several teen boys, now. Across the board they have all turned out pretty much O.K. It was never easy, and often times was enough to turn me off kids forever and that can't happen to me, first and foremost I love kids.
You have to love kids to have as many as I have. 4 girls of my own and 14 grand kids so far, aged 23 to 3, and one great grand son. Adorable , Andrej, aged one, walking tall and strong and loving,. Two more due next year. Another couple of freshies, I am so blessed.
But for a time in the early nineties I thought I was cursed. Wanted to adopt them out, my teenagers, they seemed to want to make my life a misery. I was reeling from the loss of my youngest daughter, and was vulnerable, tired with depression, no money, stressed and whenever you are especially vulnerable kids will move in for the attack.
I found this out early on with kids, the minute you come home with a new baby or just had an operation kids will play up and you end up losing it. When you lose it they finally settle down and I have an idea why this works. Kids love boundaries. And you want to be this loving Mummy. And you feel terrible being a Dragon Mother.
When it happened to me, the first time, I was horrified. Then I saw it became a pattern. Kids get angry when you leave them and will hard time you until you pay them attention. Even negative attention is attention. So I had to adjust my thinking from nice, loving Mummy to a dragon Mother at times. This was hard at first as I was brought up protected, loved. I was a little girl that loved bringing home strays. My life was lived in a soft bubble of kittens, birds, siblings above me that protected me.
After my brother Jamie was killed at 11, I was just 5, life changed forever. I became inordinately anxious, fearful , shy and withdrawn. I stayed in my room reading books for years, only emerging when I hit puberty. I was a swot and worked hard at school to achieve. But I never had the toughness of my brothers and sisters who forged their own way by being incredibly strong.
on the surface anyway.
When my girls hit puberty my strength was tested beyond measure. They rebelled, they yelled, fought and girls can fight endlessly, verbally. They never ever give up. Teenagers have to have the last word and you cannot win an argument with a teen. You might as well not bother. Don't try to get the last word, it's not worth the argument. But do set boundaries.
When I first received my foster daughter, I went the gentle touchy freely route for a little while. She tried to sneak out one night at 13 and she finally realised who I was. I pinned her up against the wall by the neck, her feet cleared the floor and raised my fist to her face in fury,
" You ever try that again and I will fucking kill you " I said.
Forever after that she didn't push me and was known to say,
"God, you would never want to meet up with Janette, in a dark alley"
I made her get her "friend" of 15 to ring her parents and leave the house, right then and there. Both had hidden their boots and clothes in the washing machine, near the back door. I barely knew this " Friend " but I heard she turned out well.
As did my Foster Daughter, the only one of her seven siblings to turn out married with kids, and a career, an education. A life. A lady without the foul mouth of the old girl she was when she came to me.
She no longer says, " Who Cares ", endlessly. She keeps a beautiful home, takes care of herself and two gorgeous boys. She is strong and knows how to get what she wants. She went through her troubles, losing a Mum at 11, being sent to a children's home, losing her Dad at about 17, and losing a brother to suicide when she was just a young Mum . But she persevered. She kept going when times were tough and has emerged a force to be reckoned with.
My second oldest girl went to the wall after her younger sister died and had post natal depression, drug issues, a dysfunctional relationship with her childhood sweetheart and the rest of us took on the care of her baby son until she came good.
She now has 7 kids, all boys and surprise surprise is having a baby girl. She was one of the hardest nuts to crack as she was feisty, tough, foul mouthed and if I closed the door on her she would climb out the window, at 4.
I live behind her in a unit, she has a big house at the front. She never asks me to baby sit or bothers me with her problems. I trust her enough to run her own life, make her own mistakes and take care if her own kids. We have had the occasional run in until we learned strict boundaries. I don't go in to her place unless invited and vice versa. She keeps me strong and I do the same for her.
She was a very misunderstood little girl, a pessimist that felt only the hurts and rejections of life and would come out swinging in self defence. She always felt under her older sister, not as good, not as educated, not as lady like. So she went the other way. The rebel way.
Her first day at high school was a disaster, she was told to take off half her makeup and went back the next day with twice as much. If she wanted to wag, she and a friend would ring up with a bomb threat. And laugh. A little monster. She hated school and they hated her. So did I for a while, I wanted her adopted out. Could not connect with her at all.
Except she was the penultimate Mother underneath all the guff and bravado. Her kids were are and will always be her world. No Mother these days can take on 7 kids and single handedly raise them. But she has and did and they are great boys. Polite, caring, good hearted, quiet. Good at school, three are maths geniuses. Top of their class in maths.
Her oldest is wayward, with a gambling addiction of enormous power. But he has never done drugs, drank, assaulted anyone and is a good Dad. We expected a lot worse given that his Dad, the Dad of 5 of the boys, is a terrible addict. And here is where the soft Mother part comes in. Our terrible addict has always had a mother that gave in to him. She is a lovely woman, but when it comes to her Son, she remains in denial.
She always has been, she lost a daughter two years ago, and we thought it would toughen her up against the addicted son.
It's hard to be a tough mother, especially to teenagers, but trust me after seeing four girls through the "worst of times " you have to muscle up, " man up " and just be a tough Mum as well as a best friend, companion, teacher, role model,. Teenagers respect boundaries believe it or not. They are seeking direction, slaves to their hormones, and most importantly suitably impressed by their peer group.
Their peer group are everything, you, the parent, are just an old fashioned ancient old fogey that doesn't understand. They will push your every boundary, question your choices, try to turn you inside out in their quest to be a teenager. They will experiment with sex, alcohol, drugs, freedom, sleep all day and seem to be in a fog the rest of the time.
I have raised three teen girls of my own, one foster daughter, and several teen boys, now. Across the board they have all turned out pretty much O.K. It was never easy, and often times was enough to turn me off kids forever and that can't happen to me, first and foremost I love kids.
You have to love kids to have as many as I have. 4 girls of my own and 14 grand kids so far, aged 23 to 3, and one great grand son. Adorable , Andrej, aged one, walking tall and strong and loving,. Two more due next year. Another couple of freshies, I am so blessed.
But for a time in the early nineties I thought I was cursed. Wanted to adopt them out, my teenagers, they seemed to want to make my life a misery. I was reeling from the loss of my youngest daughter, and was vulnerable, tired with depression, no money, stressed and whenever you are especially vulnerable kids will move in for the attack.
I found this out early on with kids, the minute you come home with a new baby or just had an operation kids will play up and you end up losing it. When you lose it they finally settle down and I have an idea why this works. Kids love boundaries. And you want to be this loving Mummy. And you feel terrible being a Dragon Mother.
When it happened to me, the first time, I was horrified. Then I saw it became a pattern. Kids get angry when you leave them and will hard time you until you pay them attention. Even negative attention is attention. So I had to adjust my thinking from nice, loving Mummy to a dragon Mother at times. This was hard at first as I was brought up protected, loved. I was a little girl that loved bringing home strays. My life was lived in a soft bubble of kittens, birds, siblings above me that protected me.
After my brother Jamie was killed at 11, I was just 5, life changed forever. I became inordinately anxious, fearful , shy and withdrawn. I stayed in my room reading books for years, only emerging when I hit puberty. I was a swot and worked hard at school to achieve. But I never had the toughness of my brothers and sisters who forged their own way by being incredibly strong.
on the surface anyway.
When my girls hit puberty my strength was tested beyond measure. They rebelled, they yelled, fought and girls can fight endlessly, verbally. They never ever give up. Teenagers have to have the last word and you cannot win an argument with a teen. You might as well not bother. Don't try to get the last word, it's not worth the argument. But do set boundaries.
When I first received my foster daughter, I went the gentle touchy freely route for a little while. She tried to sneak out one night at 13 and she finally realised who I was. I pinned her up against the wall by the neck, her feet cleared the floor and raised my fist to her face in fury,
" You ever try that again and I will fucking kill you " I said.
Forever after that she didn't push me and was known to say,
"God, you would never want to meet up with Janette, in a dark alley"
I made her get her "friend" of 15 to ring her parents and leave the house, right then and there. Both had hidden their boots and clothes in the washing machine, near the back door. I barely knew this " Friend " but I heard she turned out well.
As did my Foster Daughter, the only one of her seven siblings to turn out married with kids, and a career, an education. A life. A lady without the foul mouth of the old girl she was when she came to me.
She no longer says, " Who Cares ", endlessly. She keeps a beautiful home, takes care of herself and two gorgeous boys. She is strong and knows how to get what she wants. She went through her troubles, losing a Mum at 11, being sent to a children's home, losing her Dad at about 17, and losing a brother to suicide when she was just a young Mum . But she persevered. She kept going when times were tough and has emerged a force to be reckoned with.
My second oldest girl went to the wall after her younger sister died and had post natal depression, drug issues, a dysfunctional relationship with her childhood sweetheart and the rest of us took on the care of her baby son until she came good.
She now has 7 kids, all boys and surprise surprise is having a baby girl. She was one of the hardest nuts to crack as she was feisty, tough, foul mouthed and if I closed the door on her she would climb out the window, at 4.
I live behind her in a unit, she has a big house at the front. She never asks me to baby sit or bothers me with her problems. I trust her enough to run her own life, make her own mistakes and take care if her own kids. We have had the occasional run in until we learned strict boundaries. I don't go in to her place unless invited and vice versa. She keeps me strong and I do the same for her.
She was a very misunderstood little girl, a pessimist that felt only the hurts and rejections of life and would come out swinging in self defence. She always felt under her older sister, not as good, not as educated, not as lady like. So she went the other way. The rebel way.
Her first day at high school was a disaster, she was told to take off half her makeup and went back the next day with twice as much. If she wanted to wag, she and a friend would ring up with a bomb threat. And laugh. A little monster. She hated school and they hated her. So did I for a while, I wanted her adopted out. Could not connect with her at all.
Except she was the penultimate Mother underneath all the guff and bravado. Her kids were are and will always be her world. No Mother these days can take on 7 kids and single handedly raise them. But she has and did and they are great boys. Polite, caring, good hearted, quiet. Good at school, three are maths geniuses. Top of their class in maths.
Her oldest is wayward, with a gambling addiction of enormous power. But he has never done drugs, drank, assaulted anyone and is a good Dad. We expected a lot worse given that his Dad, the Dad of 5 of the boys, is a terrible addict. And here is where the soft Mother part comes in. Our terrible addict has always had a mother that gave in to him. She is a lovely woman, but when it comes to her Son, she remains in denial.
She always has been, she lost a daughter two years ago, and we thought it would toughen her up against the addicted son.
To Be Continued........
