When I found out I was pregnant with my first, I couldn’t have been happier.  I was about 27 years old, and my internal clock was going crazy.  I was so excited to be a mom.  Naturally, one of the first things I did was I went out and bought a pair of maternity overalls.  They were soft blue denim lined with pink and blue plaid material and had rolled up cuffs.  I posed proudly for pictures, proclaiming that at just 3 months I needed to be wearing them, and I did so proudly.

Next,  I went to the local book store, and bought some books on parenting, but my favorite was a book I got was on every phase of pregnancy up to when you have your baby, and their development journey till 12.  I absolutely loved this book.  Each chapter showed a diagram of a woman, what the monthly changes were, how big the baby was at each stage, and all the different things to expect.  There was great information on emergencies, first aid, feeding and caring for your child, and natural behaviors at each age.  One of the chapters I got a kick out of talked about “the terrible twos” – that crazy time when your child starts spreading their baby wings, and trying things out on their own.

That book stopped at age 12.  I never really understood why there was no information past 12, and probably dismissed it as it was a long way off.  As my first started to grow, and head towards that frightening adolescent stage, I was having a lot of difficulty with his anger and related behavior, so I bought two books, one called “Preparing For Adolescence”, by James Dobson, and “The Strong Willed Child”, by the same author. . I I was desperate for answers and how to effectively manage my seemingly out of control son, so I sat up all night long, reading, and desperately trying to find answers.  I will never forget that book.  If nothing else, it taught me one crucially important thing.

Never take parenting personally.  Never.

Now in retrospect, what I was going through with my son was incredibly small in comparison to this roller coaster I’ve been on throughout the last year, but at the time, it couldn’t have been bigger.  The book explained, that at some point in time, you will stand face to face with your child, and they will tell you how much they hate you.  They will lash out, be angry, perhaps throw tantrums, maybe scream and shout, slam doors, and do whatever else they can to get their point across.  The author shared that it is absolutely critical at that point not to take their words personally, because once you do, the lesson becomes about you and not about them.  If you turn and pout, or cry in front of them, or cower from what they’ve said, you will have lost the battle, and will bring a whole new level of issues in to the picture.  At the most hurtful, difficult time, as those words cross their lips, remember that they absolutely don’t hate you.  They love you, and are begging for boundaries while perhaps hating the circumstances surrounding them at that moment.  If you can separate yourself from that moment, take the emotion out of it and stand strong to deal with the issue at hand, your relationship will grow, respect will be established, and you will be able to move forward.

I specifically remember the day it first happened.  By the time my son was 13, he was 6’3″ tall.  At a mere 5’ 3.75″ (when I stand straight), he towered over me by a foot.  We stood almost nose to nose in the hallway, him shouting the words in to my face, “I hate you!”  I looked back at him and in a stern but calm voice told him that I loved him, and that although he was angry at me at that moment, I had meant what I said.  I don’t even remember what the issue was, but I remember the thoughts going through my head at the moment.  “Don’t cry. Remember, you’re 7’ tall on the inside.  Stand firm.  Don’t yell.  Crap – he’s huge.  He could take me down right now.  What if he hits me?  Stand firm.  He loves you – he’s just angry.  Stand firm.  Don’t cry. Crap he’s huge.  Why is he so tall?”  I remember him turning around, going to his room and slamming the door.  It shut so hard, that the door stop came right off the frame.  About 10 minutes later he came out of his room, fists clenched and said. “And just to let you know, I punched my dresser and cracked the side.  I’M SORRY!”  I sat in my chair and just looked at him as he marched back in to his room.  This time he couldn’t slam the door, because there was nothing to stop it.  I didn’t even know how to respond, so I didn’t.  I let a little time pass, and everyone in the house stayed pretty quiet.  About an hour later, maybe a little longer, he came out of his room.  I was still sitting in my chair.  He walked up to me and sat on the couch.  Very quietly he said, “I didn’t mean what I said.  I’m sorry mom.  I love you with all my heart.  You know that, right?  I never meant it.  I really didn’t”.  At that point I hugged him for what felt like a long time, and we had a calm conversation about what was troubling him.

Had I known at the time that his anger was probably a mental health issue, I probably would have taken him to the children’s hospital.

That situation happened more than once.  I can happily say, that each time it turned out the same.  Eventually he would come to me and apologize.  I would always make sure that if I was going to pick a battle with him, or any of my kids, it would be one that I could win.

I now know why that book only went to age 12.  Had I read any further, I’m not sure I could have made it as far as I have.  I don’t really think there would have been an alternative, but still, tell a parent about adolescence and “The Terrible Tweens?”  That would just be cruel!  Besides, the years are so unpredictable, there would be no way it could prepare you for everything.  The book would have hundreds of chapters, flow charts, foot notes, appendixes, and would just never end.  People would be laughing, crying at the same time, and the hair color industry would definitely boom because of the premature greying happening.

I have 2 teenagers of my own still, one from my fiancé,  and a an adult to get to 25 in one piece.  I’m not sure yet how it’s all going to happen, but I do know that we’ll get there.

Whatever is happening, don’t take it personally.  If we humble ourselves a little, and learn to say sorry, we can get through what we need to.  Pick the battles carefully and make sure they’re life lessons.  Leave the little stuff that doesn’t matter behind and own what you need to own – I know it means a lot to my kids when I do.  And don’t forget – it’s ok to ask for help