Shocked and Crusty

Slightly shocked and kinda crusty .... that's me when it comes to the seemingly common sexualization of girls. Everywhere I look I am bombarded by images of young girls undressed in provocative adult clothing. When did the training bra get swapped out for "lingerie"? When did it become a badge of honour to proudly display our undergarments? And when did cleavage (and the ultimate push up bras it takes to create it) become a standard accessory? I get a knot in my stomach when I see mini-me stores like LaSenza Girl flogging sexy, scant clothing in cute little girl's sizes, perfect for clubbing. It's just wrong.

I like to think I am forward thinking, easy going and open minded but I hit a wall on the issue of teens dressing and acting  provocatively and overtly sexual. I think we have a generation being robbed of girlhood. What's the big rush? Having an eighteen year old in the house, I watch my share of MTV and other teen oriented shows like Gossip Girl and 90210, and I cringe at the sight of teens being portrayed as full on adults, in adult living situations. Kidlet still likes to watch Hannah Montana from time to time, but after seeing the newest Miley Cyrus video on YouTube, I couldn't help but wonder, 1) where are her parents?, and 2) what's the rush? She has her whole life to explore and express her sexuality, but for now she is just seventeen! I sound like a broken record these days as I overuse the phrase, "age appropriate". All things in their time.

When I was raising my girls I tried to give them enough latitude to express and be themselves, even if it meant fuchsia or blue hair, or a few random piercings. But we had boundaries. Basically they couldn't dress provocatively or in a way that would make them appear older than their years. But a trip to the mall or the nearest high school confirms it - we aren't in Kansas anymore. "Cover those babies up before you get a cold",  I don't scream. "Those stilettos are enslaving you, never mind that you are killing your back", I think but don't say. And of course, "your beauty does not reside in your boobs".

 So I guess it's official; I am getting old and crusty and am maybe slightly shocked. Just a little....

They Hear

We watch with keen but with seemingly casual eyes. We watch for shifts in normal - signs of stress, sadness, fear or any hint of darkness. We are their protectors.

We witness the struggles and emotional moguls as they navigate the tumultuous years of teenage hood. And when we can't be a party to certain collision or implosion, we advise -- ever so gently. Its risky business, this advising thing ... for at best you can hope for responses that range from rolling of the eyes, looks that scream "you're an idiot", two syllable versions of three syllable words (what-ev), shrugging of shoulders as the fingers fly across the minuscule keyboard, to stomping off to the anti-parent chamber - AKA their room. Total disengagement. Not to fret - it's really not personal.

We have lived and already traversed the rocky terrain that they must travel. We have much to offer - but our well intended wisps of wisdom seem to dissipate the moment they are spoken ...never quite making it to the ears of our beloved teen. But we don't give up when maybe we should at least ease up. We carry on one-way conversation ad nauseam hoping that despite the absence of any form of comprehension  or acknowledgement, our words can offer guidance and perspective that could prevent, comfort or save them. And we have to ask . ..are we trying to save them or us from pain? We are their nurturers. But maybe we talk too much.

And then the day comes, if you are really lucky,  where you overhear them with a friend, chatting, exchanging rants, and  you hear your words (albeit cloaked in teenspeak) offered up as advice or as options. Or you see snippets jotted in birthday cards. Fragments of thought and conversations that have somehow magically penetrated the anti-parent shield like a SCUD missile.

I have learned that despite the lack of confirmation of receipt or seeing any obvious signs of active listening, they do hear. And I suppose as parents we have to choose wisely when to launch those advice/opinion packed war heads. Because in all likelihood most will be intercepted and discarded; but those that do hit their mark better carry important intelligence.

Simple Time

Photo credit: Billboard.com

For my birthday Hubby gave me tickets to the James Taylor/Carole King Troubadour tour. *sweet*   It's no secret how much I LOVE acoustic, singer/songwriters and these are two of my favourite. Okay, maybe I'm stuck in a bit of  time warp. Do you think??

Carole King is from the decade before I was a teen but then again I've always felt I was born ten years too late. I related to the laid back, folksy vibe of the late sixties and early seventies and loathed the overproduced sounds of disco and the eighties' music. boo to that!  Give me an artist who can sit at a piano or with their guitar and sing their own material - and sound like their recordings. Enter John Denver. It was not cool to like John Denver ... in fact I don't remember any of my friends liking JD. I was pretty much the lone folk freak in my crowd. But his soaring vocals singing the virtues of nature and freedom and of course, love and peace were the anthems of my teenage-hood.

But with that folksy vibe, came a relaxed way of life. Dressing was easy ... what shirt to wear with your jeans. You washed your hair with baby shampoo - no products required, and sexy hair was shiny and soft to the touch.  I don't remember alot of conversation and fretting about weight - maybe that's because there wasn't alot of show and tell in the body parts department. The thong hadn't been invented (so there was something between me and my Calvins) and neither had lingerie for teenagers.

Life was simple and natural was in. My friend Jill once cracked that my "style" hadn't changed since the seventies ... and it occurred to me today as I hung up my favourite LL Bean flannel shirt that she may be right. So cultural rut or not - I am going to be in acoustic heaven when I go to the concert next month -- and something tells me there are going to be alot of long gray ponytails in the audience - and I'm not talking about the girls!

Now what shirt should I wear with my jeans?

Yes they could. Wish they would. And they will...

Question: Couldn't they be more tidy, helpful, organized, energetic, communicative, affectionate, sensitive, thoughtful, respectful, generous??

Answer: Yes they could. I wish they would. And they will ... someday.

I am talking about teenagers. Oh sure, we all think our little, sweet faced, cherub-cheeked child will be the one who escapes the dark side of puberty ... who doesn't morph into the body of attitude that seems in many cases to accompany the foray into adulthood. But you will probably not dodge this bullet ... unless of course your spawn is not of this earth. : )

[Gross generalization alert]

You too will awake one morning to a mumbled response to your cheery "good morning". You too may be the object of impassioned pleas of why they have to go there and need that and stay out that long, with those friends. You too may lose sight of your child, lost in a three foot high clothing collection consisting of pretty much everything they have worn, tried on, that has arrived as nice piles of clean clothes, and those that have been salvaged from random backpacks and sports bags. You too may suddenly find yourself behind enemy lines (how did I get here??) ... fighting for the other side - or rather, be told that you are. You may also find yourself the subject of excruciating scrutiny and the extensive inventory of your misdeeds and shortcomings - the source of all your teen's angst and problems. You will be challenged at every turn ... even at the most innocent of suggestions or even compliments ....

"I think you played really well in that game."
"No I didn't. You don't know ... you're my mom."

"Honey, make sure you get lots of sleep -- you have a big day tomorrow".
"Ya Mom. I know that. I'm the one living it."

Parents be forewarned. It happens suddenly, quickly, without warning. One day they wake up, and you find you have been toppled from your pedestal; no longer the answer to all of their questions; no longer the centre of their universe; nor the source of everything they need, unless it's lunch money.

But it's not all gloom and doom. This state of change and strange is temporary, and necessary for both. Teenager needs the space to assert their new found, greatly desired independence. Parents need to see some ugly to help us loosen our grip and let go -- just a little.

When I wonder what to insist upon, what rule to enforce, how much and how far to push, I think back to my own teen years ... I hear my mom telling us to keep our bedrooms doors closed. I recall her telling me as a parent to pick my battles and not to sweat the small stuff (the stuff that isn't risky, unhealthy, dangerous or illegal).

These teen creatures who we love so dearly are a work in progress and one day, just as quickly as they left, they will come back to us. And they will ... someday.

Ready for Take-off

Kidlet is going on an adventure of a lifetime with her classmates. In the next few days she will fly off to Cost Rica for a 10 day cultural exchange in the rain forest region. She will volunteer in the local village that consists mainly of an indigenous tribe, teaching English, repairing the school building, playing with the children and learning about life in Costa Rica. We spent the day getting her prepared -- and so at this very moment, she is plopped in the middle of her unmade bed, sweat pants rolled up, bandanna tied around her head, amidst mounds of clothes she is packing, mounds of clothes she may take, and even more mounds that she has no intention of taking. Her suitcase lies half open covering the last little bit of floor real estate, the contents spilling out onto the many mounds! So much to be done and organized, so little time, yet she sits there - so carefree - happily tying hemp bracelets amid the utter disarray.

As seasoned travellers we have a tradition of carrying a very complete "contingency kit". I topped it up this weekend and left a small fortune at the drugstore but this kit can cure whatever ails you and provide that all important peace of mind.

So tonight as I end my wonderful weekend with a blog post, I marvel at the wonderful opportunities that are available to our children and how they so easily embrace the notion of a global village. They seem to understand that change will not come by waiting for some other person or some other time; that they are the ones, and now is the time.

I suppose they are ready for take-off -- now only if Kidlet was ...

PS Happy International Women's Day

The Wall

There are times when it seems that there is a wall - an invisible barrier between me and the person I am trying to communicate with. Words bounce off the barrier and return to me message unopened. Tonight the barrier sits planted firmly between Kidlet and I. We are (trying) to discuss her course selection. She says "hurry up - I'm listening - say what you need to say". I say, "turn off that computer and carve some talk time with me". She rolls her eyes. I sigh heavily and tell her I don't like her attitude. More rolling of the eyes and frustration in her clearly mounts. (OK, it's mounting in me too!) We are both tired, frustrated, and a little more than slightly exasperated with one another.

It's definitely a good night to take a time out. When we hit the wall, it's better to regroup, call it a night, and start over with a new day. Sad thing is, I miss the simpler times when talking was easy. But as I have learned, this is all part of raising teenagers, and as with all things, this too shall pass. Good night!

Birthday Song for a Trio

February 9th is a very meaningful day for me and the women in my family. You see my mother, sister and I all had babies on February 9th. My other sister shares her birthday with Kidlet and nephew. Needless to say we have much to celebrate and we eat alot of cake!

Today is Kidlet's 17th birthday. She was a complete surprise, a spontaneous bombshell to her father who would only believe I was truly pregnant AFTER I saw a doctor. Having already birthed two daughters, this pregnancy felt different some how. Baby was super active, determined and thankfully allowed me the luxury of keeping my overall shape from behind - hanging nicely out front like a basketball. There wasn't alot of morning sickness, no double chins or swelling -- I was convinced this one was a boy. Hence I routinely referred to baby as Jake.

I wasn't sure what I would do with a boy -- my sister had one and I was mystified by all that baby projectile peeing stuff. Even though I have a younger brother I feel that our household was one of women and girls. My grandmother and aunt (she was only 6 years older) lived with us, and I was surrounded by sisters, aunts and now - daughters.

I chose a colour of the sky for Jake's room and counted down the days to his arrival. Two weeks before his birth, I had a dream in which my baby spoke to me (telepathically, without moving its lips hey- it was a dream!). She told me that she was happy she picked us and couldn't wait to be born. In turn I blurted out "you're a girl!" and her mouth turned up at the corners ever so slightly into a smile. When I awoke I remembered the dream and began a fast and furious search for a girl's name. Baby's dad was confused .... "but you said it was a boy!"

My due date was February 6th. I hedged my bet on the possibility that baby could be born on my sister's birthday. I found a name that started with the first three letters of my sister's name and one that means "dark" in Gaelic. When I went into labour early in the morning of February 8th I was convinced she would have her own birthday. Stubborn as she was, reluctant to leave the comfort of her own womb, she was properly yanked and made her debut in the wee early morning of February 9th. I gained instant membership to a very exclusive sorority (or should I say morority).



My dark little Kidlet was an unexpected pregnancy gift - a precious treasure (as I call all of my girls). She united a family and showed her father the endless depths of his love. She gave me a rare opportunity to parent mindfully and creatively and to be a better parent than I had ever been. She tested my devotion and challenged me to make the difficult choices ... She has brought endless laughter and joy to our family and made her parents proud with not only her achievements, but her way of looking at the world.

I have the common complaint of all mothers ... where did the years go? What happened to that little cherub faced, mischievous little girl with high tops and a baseball cap askew?


Today she is on the cusp of womanhood and will soon be facing important decisions about her future. But for one more day, let her be a carefree teenager, full of hope and optimism. Let me hold on to this, my baby's birthday and just for a moment, let me glimpse into those same chocolate pudding eyes as she blows out her candles.

Happy Birthday Sis.

Happy Birthday Nephew.

Happy Birthday Kidlet.

Feel the hugs.

Starry Eyed

For Christmas, Kidlet gave me tickets to see the Dancing With the Stars tour. She and I are self-confessed fans and it was a regular date every week to watch it together. A rare night out with Kidlet. After many adventures in parking (or trying to find it) during rush hour in the city core, and the unexpected sight of a man openly urinating in the train station vestibule as he pontificated about the summertime [Kidlet - "Mom -- don't looook!"] and after fighting the sub zero temperatures and winds, we made it to the venue.
The search for good parking robbed us of a restaurant meal, so junk food gobbled over an empty counter/garbage can had to suffice. I snapped shots as kidletsmiled and rolled her eyes. Cute.



Loved the show! Loved her face as she watched it. Cherished the time with her -- even if it started off a little rocky. We both need to become better listeners.

We didn't dance with the stars last night, but I swear we had them in our eyes.

Thanks Kidlet.

Options

Had some rare one-on-one time with Kidlet last night as we made the 40 minute drive to her hockey game. She was happily chatting the whole way, filling me in on what's been happening in her life lately. As she enthusiastically (she takes after her grandfather) retold her stories to me, voice rising and falling with the twists of the conversation, I couldn't help but smile to myself. Life through my teenager's eyes brings me right back to my own youth -- and reminds me that while some things are very different - some things never change. My heart warms with these now-not-so-frequent opportunities to just "be" with her. My other daughters are now grown women and I learned that this time with kids at home is far too short and fleeting. They taught me how truly precious this "mothering" time is - and to see it as a gift. Kidlet came along many years after the first two treasures and I felt then that I had been given an opportunity to experience motherhood fully and consciously.

Kidlet is facing the fork in the road. She has so many talents and gifts and so many options. We had a wonderful conversation on the way home that continued in the driveway -- and into the house. Her face was lit up like a Christmas tree and her hands waved in concert to her words as she reviewed her options, fears, concerns and observations aloud. I was but a witness to the whole conversation as she sorted through it all. She said that most of the choices she faces are isolating -- no one can really help her choose. She has to live her choices - and the choices are many.

I can remember that time in my life -- the bridge to anywhere spanning before me. Stresses of schoolwork, deciding what I wanted to do with my life, what career, what school to apply to ... a large burden for a young person at the threshold of adulthood. She seems so much more composed and self assured than I was at the same age.

She is aware of the environmental bubble she has been raised in and has a yearning to break free, discover her authentic self and make changes in the world.

As I kissed her gleaming smiling face goodnight, I gave a silent prayer of thanks for this beautiful person who is passing through my life. And I took peace in the confidence that Kidlet will make any choice she makes - be the right one for her.

Me to We .. I hope!

Had a call last night from my youngest daughter Kidlet who is away for a week at the leadership academy run by the Free the Children organization. At 16, Kidlet is an intelligent, thoughtful and intuitive young woman who has always carried big dreams in her heart. Simply put -- she is special. At 16 she is also in the prime of teenage-hood and all the drama that goes with it. I had hoped that this camp would be help her set her compass and be the life changing experience that I knew it could be.

Eureka! Kidlet called me last night - which in itself is a surprise. Her voice on the phone was calm and when I asked her how it was going (after three and half days), she responded that " it was the sickest experience ever . No words for it ..." Parents of teenagers know that " sick" is "great" ... as I keep explaining to my father. She said she knows what she has to do with her life. (smile) She declared that she has made life long friends and that she doesn't want the camp to end. She has also concluded that she HAS to go to Africa. (That means she HAS to figure out how to pay for it too!). The icing on the cake was her comment, "I think I owe you a thank you" .

Case closed! Happiness rules. I know life will be forever changed for her (and for me too). And you just gotta love the whole concept of Free the Children ---- ME to WE -- the generation we have been waiting for. We have a generation of global citizens.

Suddenly, I feel that old familiar optimism rising within and I know that all will be well with the world.

This too shall pass

My head is swimming ... it just feels like we are on the cusp of something ... what that thing is -- I am not really sure. It seems as though many members of our family are in the midst of life changing experiences. My daughter and I are in the midst of just such an experience ..

Our sixteen year old daughter is the last of our brood left at home. Right now if you asked her - she would probably say she wishes she wasn't. It is a difficult age and time in a teenager's life. They are walking the very delicate line between childhood and adulthood. They are hungry for independence and not entirely thrilled with the accompanying increased expectations and responsibilities. They are excited and scared at the same time. Emotions run high - tempers run hot and words get said that can't be taken back. In the midst of it all I just look at those big brown eyes and see the same wonderment in them that was there when she was a baby.

At times I simply can't comprehend how we ended up here ... But then I remember - this too shall pass.