Oh, to be fourteen again - NOT! I remember being 14. I was rotten. I called my younger sister names. I screamed at my mother. I ridiculed her for ruining a particular sweater in the dryer. (It was a black V-neck pointelle - I still remember.) I've been doing my own laundry ever since then.
When I was just fourteen I lied, I stole out of the house, I kissed a boy. I thought my mother wanted to keep me 'chained' in the house for the rest of my life!! She just didn't understand. Even if she asked, I couldn't tell my mother what I was thinking or feeling!
I would talk to my best friend on the phone almost every night. Yes, a real phone that you actually dialed. We talked, careful to keep our conversations from younger siblings. We shared secrets, dreams, who we were, who we liked and who we didn't. We helped each other solve the really big problems in life and algebra. I couldn't have gotten through the 1970's without her.
Being a parent in these times is challenging. Being a step-mom has its own array of dilemmas. My teen SD (I'll call her Meme for this blog) talks to me - sometimes. Mostly she texts her friends. Sometimes she pretends not to hear me, or she gives me the "I don't know" non-answer. Sometimes she's downright snippy. I know what she really doesn't know is what she feels or how to convey it. That's okay Meme, I understand. Just like my mom did. What goes around comes around.
