As I write today I’m reminded of a post I wrote 8 years ago, What I Did When My Daughter Said, “You’re the Boringest and I Hate You! This time, however, it’s not what she said, but instead what she didn’t say and didn’t do that shined a light on some difficult parenting wisdom.
Part I – The Sweater
It all began when I knit my 14 year old daughter a sweater. She’d accompanied me to the store to choose a soft, washable yarn in a neutral color she’d actually wear. During Covid I’ve picked up knitting again and found a healthy distraction in searching for patterns and scrumptious yarns. Because my grandmother taught me to knit when I was young, knitting sent a gentle signal to my brain, “Everything’s okay.”
A couple of weeks ago when I completed the sweater, I laid it on her bed so she’d see it when she got home. I imagined she’d try it on and show me how it fit. Over the past month I’d measured the length of her arms, inquired about how cropped she’d like it as that’s the current fashion and worked to tailor it just for her.
Because she never mentioned the sweater, I checked in with her in the afternoon, “Did you see the sweater? Please try it on — I’d love to see how it fits.”
She answered, “Not right now.”
Later I asked her again and she explained that she’d already changed into her pj’s but that she’d do it the next time she got dressed. The next day I decided to mention it one last time. My heart felt heavy. I didn’t want to get entangled in a power struggle with her over the sweater I’d made for her because I adore her. Needless to say, I never saw it on her.
Part II – The Pile
My daughter had recently cleaned out her room, placing all outgrown and unwanted items into a huge bag in the hall. Beside the bag was a loose pile of papers with a blue glue gun resting on top.
After a few days of watching the pile collect dust, I took a closer look and saw under the glue gun a photo storybook I’d created and given to her for her birthday some years ago.
This project, with a closeup of her soft two year old face on the cover looked to have seen better days. I picked it up and brought it into her room asking, “What’s happened to this?” She confirmed that she’d found it spoiled, likely because last fall she’d placed a little pumpkin from our garden on top of it, in a drawer. The pumpkin decomposed over the course of months.
I felt an anger rise in me and said, ‘You clearly don’t care about it.”
She answered, “I do care.”
I said, “If you cared you’d have come to me when you found it and asked what we could do.” I swore, “Just f***ing get rid of it then, but don’t leave it on the floor for me to take care of.”
Heart pounding, I retreated to my bedroom across the hall where I stood motionless, a little shocked that I’d spoken to her so harshly. Being the youngest child she was adept at avoiding conflict and I’d become more able to keep my cool.
For a split second I thought, I’m going to ignore her, give her the cold shoulder. A memory flashed from the recesses of my mind of my dad ignoring me for two weeks after his feelings had been hurt because I’d been spending weekends at my friend Sharon’s house. I can remember him scolding me as we stood inside our front door, “You care more about her family than you do your own!” I was in 5th grade at the time and it was two weeks before he looked at or spoke to me again.
I decided I wasn’t going to ignore her, even though to hurt her back felt like the “natural” response.
Returning to her room, disintegrating storybook in hand I said, “I realize the reason I’m so upset is that my feelings are hurt. It’s becoming clear to me that you don’t care about things I’ve made for you.”
I was of course thinking about the unadorned sweater.
I repeated myself, “It’s becoming clear to me, and I’m speaking to myself now, that I need to focus less on you and more on myself.”
I felt my voice catch and tears well in my eyes.
Unlike 8 years ago, this time she said nothing. Through the uncared for storybook and forgotten sweater I was getting a message loud and clear, “Mom, get a life. While I need you to be there for me, I don’t need you the same way I used to and I’m not going to act in ways to please you. You haven’t trained me to take care of you and I’m not going to start now. My main concern right now is my friends and all the changes I’m going through. You can’t use me to feel good about yourself.”
I felt grounded when I turned to leave her room, closing the door quietly behind me.
I haven’t figured it all out yet.
It felt valuable to write about and share with you because it’s not spit spat all settled in me and tied up with a bow and maybe you’re having your own messy parenting moments. I’m sitting with a real life collision between my daughter’s age appropriate growth and what I’m gently naming my age appropriate stuckness, a slice of difficult wisdom.
It’s not only children who grow. Parents do too. As much as we watch to see what our children do with their lives, they are watching us to see what we do with ours. I can’t tell my children to reach for the sun. All I can do is reach for it, myself.
— Joyce Maynard
Thank you Lisa for sharing this moment with us! I have an 11,8, and 5 year old so we are not quite there but I feel like I will need this little pot of wisdom and gentle reminder one day (very) soon! I’m actually quite impressed with how quickly you were able to go from “stuck” to this totally different perspective and growth. Thank you also for being vulnerable with us. It takes such courage and yet it is exactly what is needed to make us all feel a little more human and a little less alone.
Rebecca thanks for taking the time to share your perspective and for your acknowledgement of the vulnerability. It feels scary to share what’s real but that’s were I’m at right now, looking for the truth.
That would hurt my feelings if my mommy said that to me.
But it would also make me sad if someone didn’t like my gift.
I hope you can talk and find some way to connect and find the humor in the situation, and the truth.
Those brains are changing for good. And there is so much going on in a teenage girl’s mind. Mind reading doesn’t work anymore.
It’s sad to say goodbye to the sweet and easy connection of childhood.
Good to hear from you Kristen and thank you for sharing … it is sad to say goodbye to the sweet and sometimes easy connection of childhood.
Thank you, Lisa, for sharing these heartbreaking moments so beautifully. I found your essay very helpful. As parents, we often struggle along the witnessing path of our children’s growth. I admire your modeling of introspection, and my favorite outcome is: Feeling Grounded. It’s the best we can do during the constant life lessons of Letting Go and Surrendering to What Is. It just Is, and the best we can do is to hold ourselves with compassion and grace. When we least expect it, our children come back with profound questions about new decisions they must make. It’s such a blessing to provide that space for them by first providing it for ourselves.
Susie – yes! “the constant life lessons of Letting Go and Surrendering to What Is”. Thank you for sharing and the reminder of just how important it is to be able to provide space for them… and ourselves. I’m reminded, “can’t go over it, can’t go under it… gotta go through it!”
Thanks for this post, Lisa! I soooo relate to this type of situation with my own almost-14 year old! Your post captures the heartbreak and joy of raising kids who are focused on their developmental tasks without having to take care of their moms. And how much we as parents grow as much as they do over their lifetimes. I also appreciate the vulnerability and strength with which you write. Thank you!
—April
April I love hearing from you here and I’m glad this spoke to you and yes, you’re not alone!!! Thank you for your kind words.
This post is everything so many of us live through with our 14/15/16 year old daughters. Thank you for your honest and willingness to share, mama. I see you and have lived nearly this exact experience – f word and all.
Thank you for sharing that you sometimes swear too! Yesterday while driving my 15 year old son to school I shared a moment just like this.
He had his cell phone and ear bud in one ear totally into just his current wants. I asked him what awards he was being nominated for in his Drama class Ceremony that evening. He mumbled a response I could not understand. I asked him kindly to speak louder so I could understand. He replied all nasty,” It doesn’t matter. No, I’m not going to repeat myself”!!
My blood started to boil and I said, “ If someone asked you to repeat something more clearly you F****** do it! Or that’s being a total self centered A-Hole.”!! Followed by, “ Give me your phone and ear bud Now!!”
After dropping off his younger brother at school, and pulling over on the side of the road because 3 year old brother gets car sick and was screaming, “ I need to throw up”!!
While frantically looking for something my little one could puke in I said,” Well this Nieghborhood takes very good care of their lawns.. it’s a beautiful place throw up in.” The 15 year old finally started laughing. I responded, “ Do you see what I have to go through each day to drive you to school? Plus, I had a Bladder Prolapse surgery two weeks ago and my privates are covered in stitches ! The least you can do is speak in a way I can understand when asked.” Then he sat silent for 60 sec. I got back in the car and apologized for swearing at him. He apologized for being impatient with me. I handed his phone back. We ended with a positive connection. Both smiled at each other as we said goodbye at morning drop off.