“You don’t care about me, and you never have.”
Today, I took a slapshot – a hockey puck of disdain and contempt delivered squarely to my face by my 9 year-old son.
All the heavy emotional padding I put on as a mother, all the various masks of patience and steely resolve I don to get through this Job of Parenting, was not enough to absorb the sting of his words.
I’d like to return the shot. That is my instinct, the first responder to my hurt. Maybe I have even taught him how to do this.
Instead, I breathe, and opt for a terse and logical speech outlining just some of all that I do – and have done for him - that proves I care.
The words that once would have stirred up remorse in him now sound tinny and lame, like something from a bad soap opera. He no longer buys it. His anger toward me eclipses my logic.
I watch him as he looks down at the floor and thinks.
I feel it.
This is not him having A Bad Day. The tectonic plates that are our life, our relationship together, have somehow permanently shifted underneath me today, an otherwise ordinary Thursday morning.
He has not delivered the slapshot to manipulate me into getting what he wants. He delivered it because he might actually believe it – that I don’t always have his best interests in mind.
This is the beginning of our new normal. What life is like with a tween, then teen.
It is time to leave for school. When we arrive, he walks ahead of us.
Little CEO says, “I can erase minds, Mom. What words would you like me to erase for you?”
I say, “I’d like for you to erase your brother saying I don’t care about him.”
It’s a passive-aggressive move on my part, but I want him to know: you hurt me.
Because my skin is not yet thick enough for this, this doubt he feels toward me, this momentary flash of contempt. I have not yet donned the mask of steely resolve needed to be a parent of an adolescent. I am an open target.
He stutter-steps, for just a moment, then keeps walking.
We arrive at the schoolyard and he stops and turns to me. He barely has to lift his chin skyward to meet my gaze, he’s so tall.
With my sunglasses on, I look into his eyes – two impossibly beautiful black olives that have been with him since the day he was born.
“Bye, Mom.”
This is his peace offering. I think back to all the nights I’ve tucked him into bed and whispered, “Please don’t ever change. You’re such a good kid.”
“Bye, buddy. Have a good day, okay?”
I hug him and he hugs me back.
I turn my face into his hair and whisper, “Please don’t be mad at me, buddy. I can’t bear you being mad at me.”
“Mom? Take your sunglasses off.”
“I can’t, buddy. I’m crying.”
“It’ll be okay, Mom, okay? Don’t cry.”
“Okay. Go play now and have a great day. I’ll see you afterschool.”
He walks away from me and joins his friends.
I wistfully smile at no one but myself, as the plates continue to shift underneath me.
About the Author Gigi Ross
I'm a blogger, social media geek, mom and wife, foodie, reality TV addict and Jason Mraz fangirl. Not in that order. I write here about parenting, blogging, technology, social media and pop culture.
{ 56 comments… read them below or add one }
Oh my heart! I just, ah! I can barely see to type through my own tears right now. This is so beautifully written and so heartfelt. And so effing scary. This is what happens, isn’t it? My husband and I often joke that our three year old daughter is giving us tiny glimpses into what life will be like when she is a teenager. We laugh because we have to. It’s just too scary to actually deal with.
I’m trying to embrace this new phase, but I keep thinking that it should be at least another 4 more years. I feel completely ill-prepared.
It never ends, but it does get better. The other day I was at Walmart and I heard a college boy chastising his mother…”You don’t know everything, that’s not how it works”. It went on and on.I called my husband, told him what happened, and said, “See, It isn’t just me!” Boys love to hate their mothers because they are closer to us. My son calls me and I love talking to him when everything is right in his world, but when he has a bad day, it’s bad for us both. The burden of motherhood reigns!
Geez, they keep doing this into college?
Oy. I better buckle up.
I’m crying with you.
Jennifer´s last [type] ..How To Make Button Barrettes
So not ready. SO not ready.
UGG! Gigi, this breaks my heart. Mostly because I teach teenagers and I so know this is coming. But also because the Momma in me wants to think it won’t happen to me (it will).
How this ended is a true testament to how he really feels about you. He knows you care. He does.
Katie´s last [type] ..the inseparable, separated
Thanks for your words, Katie. He is a very intuitive kid and I hope that will be one of our relationship’s saving graces as we move into this phase. He also apologized – completely of his own volition – last night. I was so proud of him, and hopeful.
*tears*
I can relate to every single word. Why does motherhood have to hurt so bad? {{{HUGS}}}
Adrienne´s last [type] ..The Five Year Panic
Oh Gigi, I know exactly what you are going through. With a daughter in college and a son in middle school my “phase” of tween/teenville seems to be extended.
The one thing that I have learned with my son is that boys do not hold on to the issues like moms do. They process it all differently and when you embrace that, your skin will thinken a little.
Hang in there Mama!!
Paula @ Simply Sandwich´s last [type] ..Teen Code Translation
Paula, I think you are psychic because literally right around the time that you sent this comment, he did apologize to me…and you’re right, they don’t hold onto things. Now my daughter? Who knows what to expect with her…:)
HUGS to you, Gigi. As you know, I went through something very similar today and it’s been bothering me all day. It’s coming… and I’m not ready either.
The good news? is that so many of us had our boys/girls at the same time. We need to stick together, just like we did when our kids were teeny-tiny and issues like teething seemed so big (now I might welcome a teething episode in lieu of what I currently have going on)
Oh. My. Sometimes I wonder what we get ourselves into with this human-rearing business.
Keep on loving em like you do Gigi and that will be enough.
Yuliya´s last [type] ..compartmentalizing
“Sometimes I wonder what we get ourselves into with this human-rearing business.”>>>>>>YES, yes, yes.
Oh, Gigi…this has been the ebb and flow of my summer. That uber-tall boy who I can be so incredibly close to and yet, teetering on the verge of being loathed. This post was way too familiar to me, and having a soon-to-be college sophomore, I hate to say it may not change.
Hugs! You are among friends…
Sherri´s last [type] ..25 Years to Life
Hearing that it still goes on in college makes me want to pray for it all to go by quickly, but then I realize that is no better solution…:( **sob*
Oh so tender. I remember the first time one of my daughters said she hated me(or all the variations). It’s pre-programmed. You didn’t model that type of behavior.
About the third time, the lights will come on.
I promise.
Maggie S.´s last [type] ..Monday Morning
You give me hope, Maggie!! Thank you!!!
I can actually feel the tears that want to spring the surface after reading this. Because I know how deeply a mother loves. And how much that hurts. And I’m also afraid for myself because one day I will have TWO tween, and then teenage girls, and how will I handle all that angst. I will continue to look to parents who have “been there, done that,” I suppose to get me through.
Em´s last [type] ..Works in Progress: A good week!
I am scared for 2 years from now when I relive this with my daughter. At least I’ll be less blindsided, but I’m not sure it will hurt any less!!!
Oh my heart. They sure know the way to wound a mama, don’t they? Beautiful, honest post Gigi. I think it’s a great life lesson for kids to see how powerful their words are and to choose them carefully.
Leslie´s last [type] ..Craft Whores – Are You Twisted Enough?
I wish kids weren’t born with the mad skillz to hurt they way they do. sigh……
Oh Gigi! I’m sorry. I know that is on my (distant but closer each day) horizon, and I will be crying, too.
Potty training is terrible, but at least it’s just hurting my floors and my patience – not my heart.
angela´s last [type] ..We Shall Butt Heads
Dear Gigi, stop making me cry! Isn’t this what we all fear? My girls told me she didn’t love me the other day when I pulled her hair while trying to detangle it. I’m still saddened by this because I thought “this is how it’s going to be when you’re a teen!”.
Your boy knows you care. I just wish they’d understand that their words hurt us just as much as others’ words sometimes hurt them. Sending hugs!
Sili´s last [type] ..Back to School With Microsoft Office
*tears* I’m sending you hugs. I can’t help but think back to my adolescent years. Now, with a 2 year old of my own, I know its coming and I can’t help but want to find some way of fixing all the mean things I said to my own mom. At least we have broad communities to cry to. I hope your day gets better and even though it still hurt, your son showed compassion at the end. This, in itself, shows that you are doing a fabulous job of raising him!
Cari´s last [type] ..Approved by the Queen: Rubbermaid LunchBlox
I can’t even imagine what that must have felt like…but I’m glad that he hugged you and told you it would be okay. Deep down he really does know you love him and want the best for him…if he didn’t he wouldn’t have cared if you stopped crying!
Deb´s last [type] ..Wordless Wednesday – A Little Girl Can Dream, Can’t She?
Ugg….. posts like this should come with a warning at the beginning so I don’t cry at work!
I totally understand this and can relate. I would love to tell you that it gets better, but it doesn’t. With teens they just glare… you know it’s the same thing and while it still hurts your skin is just a bit thicker.
Jackie´s last [type] ..40 Before 40
Nothing like knowing a 9yo can make you cry at the drop of a hat. My daughter and I have settled into a much calmer existence over the last year or so. I’ve mellowed a bit, relaxed, realized I don’t know anything about being a single parent and she seems to have responded by understanding me too, giving me that sort of knowing, “oh, you poor, confused man,” look most of the time.
When things do get unruly, she’s always the first to cry. She’s not quite as sensitive as she was 2 years ago, but when she gets going it lasts a while. If I was the source of the tears, it almost always ends in me crying too.
Heck, I cried at a touching moment in a freaking Disney Channel show the other morning (i-Carly) and had to get up so she wouldn’t see. Why don’t we want our kids to know we’re human? Do we think they’ll lose faith in us? Let me know if you figure that out, lol. I’m still guessing.
@bluenotebacker´s last [type] ..Studio30Plus Feature Today!
Bullseye! I have a 12yo girl and 14yo boy. The plan to have them so close in age seemed BRILLIANT when they were little. Since the Teen/Tween years have descended upon us, I can see how NOT brilliant it was.
Yep.
Ok, now I need your advice on how to deal with this!!! Where is your long comment I’ve come to expect, loaded with sage advice??!!!
This one hit so close to home. I actually thought to myself, “I always write such long replies. Today, I’m just going to say yep. Because I know. I do.”
Ha! I guess we’ll have to meet up in person to discuss this more thoroughly.
But. I will say that the way he handled the good bye at school speaks volumes about how he really feels about you, about the strength of the relationship you have.
Don’t question the fact that you admitted to being tearful or your “passive-aggressive” statement about what you’d erase. That was actually a non-confrontational way for you to let your son know you were hurt.
Nothing wrong with that. Empathy is good. Recognizing that there are consequences to the things we say is good.
Still, I absolutely related to the part where you second-guessed your responses…
I’ve been known (as the ADULT in the situation) to give my CHILD the silent treatment when I’m hurt – some kind of immature desire for him to recognize that I’m in pain.
And yet he is 15. So he knows *exactly* what he’s doing when he communicates with me.
We are not perfect – at any age. And it’s okay for our kids to tell us that. It’s okay for US to tell THEM that we’re upset. It’s okay to admit we need to work on things and that they might be right or we might be wrong or both. Or neither.
Aw long as there is love at the end of it all. Which there clearly is between you and your kids.
There. I feel much better now.
Yes, I do silent treatment as well. That is a learned behavior on my part, from my own mom, and as much as I try to avoid it, I find myself slipping into that old habit sometimes.
I felt good after he apologized yesterday evening of his own volition and said, “I was a jerk, Mom.”
And then he and his sister fought in the car on the way home from school today, I took away a yogurt trip I had planned and he took back his apology and stormed to his room.
When are we meeting again?
Next week, right???
I may be a hot mess by then.
Oh boy that last part really mad me tear up. I have maybe 2 more years before all this sets in.
Lady Jennie´s last [type] ..World Moms Blog: Vacationing With Kids
Buckle up, Jennie, that’s all I can say for now.
Pass the tissues. Sniff.
I’m going to need really dark shades in about 8 yrs to hide my tears too.
Darcy´s last [type] ..I Was Transformed for the Disney Consumer Product’s Glamorous Cinderella Showcase Dinner
I almost never wear my sunglasses to the school, but man, was I ever grateful for them yesterday.
Oh Gigi – how can we ever be ready for this? This brought me to tears. Such emotions. Such lovely writing!
You can’t be ready. You think it’s two, three, four years down the road. And then, it’s right there in front of you, just as you’ve kind of figured THIS phase of parenting out a bit.
I’m sitting her with tears of my own in my eyes.
There are days that my own boys look at me with such stubbornness (where did that come from?) and neither one of us wants to be the first to give in or show weakness. And there are other times that my nearly grown first born boy still tells me he loves me before he gets off the phone or leaves the house. I melt on the spot.
It only takes one of those i love yous to erase a lot of the other stuff, doesn’t it?
I also have a 9 year old and like you I haven’t thickened my skin for her just yet. It’s so hard not to slap back when they hit us. I have a feeling there will be many deep breaths in my future.
Trish´s last [type] ..Blowing off Steam
Many, many deep breaths. And wine.
I know those days are coming for me, I think about them all the time and hope that everything I am doing will show my son how much I truly care. I cry to easily so I don’t know if sunglasses will help me in the future. Here’s hoping to much more better days!
ashleigh walls´s last [type] ..Choose The Next Bloom Beauty Giveaway!
I honestly was baffled when he said that to me. Like, how can you not remember allllll these things I’ve done for you? I even said to him that he won’t understand until he’s a parent. Yeah, I said the same things my parents said to me. But the reason we keep repeating things our parents said is because they’re so very true.
Oh Gigi. This broke my heart. Just broke my heart for you..and for me too, selfishly, because I know I’ll get there someday too.
I now understand what my mom always said when she said I broke her heart growing up.
Ginger´s last [type] ..To Everyone I Know During This Election
I’ve always celebrated each new phase of my kids growing up. I’ve never been a mom who wants to keep their kids a certain age forever. But now, I kind of do.
Aaaargh! I hate it when I cry!
I have to say though, you nailed it on the head Gigi, once they reach a certain age, they say what they mean at that moment. My 16 yo is struggling with depression. I am getting some beauts hurled my way, the biggest and heaviest is that it’s my fault he is depressed. But then I think back to my teens, and how I blamed my mom for everything, and now, I think she’s an angel. So it gets better…in about 30 years. Hang in there! Your son is a good kid, plus he took the time to acknowledge you. That’s huge.
Sandra´s last [type] ..Big girls don’t cry…?
I can’t help but ask, why does every kid need to be mean as a teen, or feel misunderstood, or blame their parents for everything bad? WHY???????? You know???? Reading your comment scares the crap out of me!!!!
Oh, my heart hurts for you and for every mom that has commented here who can relate. My son is in 2nd grade and so far I’m still “mommy” but I know the day will come when things will start to change and my heart will break. When I first set eyes on that precious baby I knew that someday he would break my heart. When you love so deeply it’s bound to happen. I also knew that I broke my parents hearts w/ my bratty, snotty teenage self and ever since I made that realization (and it really sunk in) I’ve been slowly trying to make up for it.
Thanks for sharing w/ us your anguish. Thanks for allowing the moms who are right there with you to nod in agreement and feel a little less alone.
Stephanie @ Hugs, Kisses and Snot´s last [type] ..Rice Noodle Stir Fry
Heartbreaking. I have a post like this to write but I haven’t figured out how to do it. Because he’s 4. And he probably doesn’t mean it. But his behaviour the other day and his words to me that evening just tore me apart.
Why don’t they give us mom armor for this stuff?!
Robin | Farewell Stranger´s last [type] ..Grace in Small Things: #7
It may sound silly, immature, and completely irrational, but my 2YO hurts my feelings all the time with that unfiltered, devil-may-care, out-of-the-mouths-of-babes attitude that toddlers have. I try to tell myself that she’s TWO; that she doesn’t yet understand how very much words can hurt. But I’m only human.
We’re all only human, Gigi.
Kristin @ What She Said´s last [type] ..Friday Tapas: The Laborious Edition
Oh mom oh mom, this is heavy stuff. We’re entering tween land and no it isn’t always pretty…but I can’t imagine you handling this in a more honest and responsible way. No yelling, no retaliating, no ego…just pure honesty will ultimately give way to love and in a way you’re offering tools for your boy…how to deal, respond and no react. one can hope. Best to you mama.
Deirdre´s last [type] ..In the Mix Monday – Anxiety
Ouch. My son was a stoic one growing up and I never knew what was going on in his head, but he’s now 26 and he has showed and told me many times in the last few years (maybe 8?), that he’s heard what I’ve taught him, he knows I love him and he loves me, and he even parrots some of my ‘wisdom’.
It gets better
Jill´s last [type] ..Hopping on the Black Door Train