In the last few days I’ve been thinking rather a lot on WHY I was such a snot to my parents at around age 16. I’d have thought that by the 6th kid in our family to be almost 16 – that I’d have thought through all my own teenage ‘stuff’ by now but it’s not so.
Our present Nearly 16 yo has had a bit of an issue with me over the last few days and while she comes nowhere close to the level of Snot-dom I displayed, it has reminded me of a certain day when I was so awful to my Dad and while I mostly can see reasons leading up to or contributing factors for most of my teenage nonsense, for this particular time I can see absolutely NO reason at ALL.
It was when I was in my apprenticeship and my 3 month rotation to work in the Butchers area of the kitchen had come around. Being 16, living 35 mins from work with a hopeless bus timetable saw my Dad driving me at 5.15 every morning for a 6am start. I remember morning after morning staring out the window and refusing to engage in conversation, probably even refusing to thank him each morning… I mean really! What a snot! He was returning for a full days work of his own, leaving his scowling ungrateful daughter who undoubtedly metamorphosed into a smiling angel once seeing her friends.
What a nit wit was I.
So our lovely gentle 15 yo has been in a bit of a snit with me. I knew what her issue was but it was a decision made with a range of influences she wasn’t aware of and that there hadn’t been time to explain or discuss. So she was disgruntled – but at least she had a reason. At least I had something to work with. At least it was out of character for her – not things I can claim for my own remembered setting. Gosh he must have wanted to slap me… but he stayed calm and gentle and somehow I grew up and out of my Royal Snot Robes in time.
I am dead set certain that having children is every bit as much about growing US up as it is about us raising them. It’s a fact. And we will miss so much learning if we never recognise it or refuse to go with the learning curve.