It Came From Middle School

Not long ago, my home was invaded by a strange creature who looks exactly like my son. But it’s not my sweet little boy who loves to cuddle and says I’m the best mom in the world. This monster even acts like my son sometimes, and then without warning and at the slightest provocation, he transforms into a snarling, violent and irrational beast.

It’s a, it’s a…(scream) preteen!!!!

Since he is my oldest, this is my first experience in dealing with the primordial hormone soup that is pre-adolescence, so it is extra scary. Even more so because I have four more behind him who will each be going through puberty eventually, and with quite a bit of overlap.

Middle school is not like elementary school. When he went to elementary school, I knew all of his friends, and their parents and dropped him off at their houses, or had his friends over here. Now, kids are given a lot more freedom to “hang out” with each other, unsupervised. Who knows who is there or what kind of kids they are. Are they disrespectful, delinquent little cretins or nice kids? Let’s face it; good judgment is not at its peak between the ages of 11 and 14.

First and foremost, I love my son, so I laid down the law.

1. I love you no matter what, even if you are spewing the equivalent of verbal vomit from your mouth.
2. If you want to hang out with your friends, no problem, as long as I have met them and have their first and last names, cell phone numbers and home numbers, Social Security numbers, addresses and a photo ID. (Just kidding about the last three.)
3. The hormones are not your fault, but you are responsible for controlling your behavior anyway.
4.Disrespect will result in unpleasant consequences.
5. I still love you.

I have friends whose children are teenage boys and young adult men, and they are still alive, so I have hope that it is possible to get through the Land of Adolescence in one piece. The thing that makes it so hard is the love. If I didn’t care so much, I could just ignore the outbursts and shift my focus on the kids who aren’t screaming at me or throwing things. But I refuse to give up and let my son spin out of control. Someday, God willing, he will grow out of this stage and become the amazing young man I know he can be.