Most parents of teens will agree that kids today feel very free to express themselves without fear of consequence or discipline and with what seems full confidence in their opinions and beliefs. My teenaged daughter’s “isms” and observations have always served to impress, entertain, challenge or infuriate me (in equal amounts). Whether I agree with them or not, some of her statements have kept me thinking for days due to their sheer honesty, unique perspective and often, comedic delivery.
Since she has spent the last year living mainly with her father instead of me, I have missed many of her classic daily quotes. But on a recent hike through the woods with my daughter, I got a huge dose of her current vision when I asked about her reasons for choosing to live with her dad and not her mom.
I wondered why she seemed so much more at ease with her father’s style of parenting while being so resistant to mine. I really pressed as to why she preferred living with him, knowing that much of it had to do with her locale to her friends and school, and her father’s willingness to chauffeur her and give her freedoms I was not as comfortable about. I wanted to know why she was so willing to “behave” for him when she lives under his roof while her days spent with me seem to be filled with constant drama, non-compliance and all-around misery and complaining. While her father claims she listens, cleans up after herself and goes to bed on time without argument, my experiences parenting her have been from a parallel universe. It’s as if we are raising two different kids. Perhaps we are…
She already had an answer to my questions all mapped out in her own unique perspective, which turns out, she came up with from her interpretations to her exposure to some biblical teachings. “Mom, it’s like this,” she started, “Dad doesn’t sweat the small stuff like you. He’s got fewer rules. As long as I get good grades and clean up, I know he loves me.” She continued, “You pick on me for stupid things, and you’re on me about everything, but sometimes you’re cute when you worry. I can say anything to you and you’ll get over it. I know you’ll love me no matter what. So I guess you see my worst side, because I know you’ll always forgive me.” Her biblical reference? “Dad’s like the God of the Old Testament, you know, fire and brimstone if I screw up. You’re like Jesus, from the New Testament, friendly, ‘turn-the-other-cheeky.’ You’re not allowed to not love me.”
I was perplexed. While it felt somewhat of a relief to be the one compared to the hipster version of the big guy upstairs, it didn’t make sense she could warrant living with a force that could part seas if she violated protocol. And it seemed a contradiction to imply I was unreasonable with my concerns and rules yet easy-going and Jesus-like at the same time. And I know she wouldn’t utter some of the things she’s said to me if Jesus showed up to delegate. She dared to add, “You cook and clean for me and love me and worry about me because you’re a mom. That’s what you’re supposed to do.” Further confused, I continued my line of questioning, “You’d rather live with fire and brimstone than with Wilma Flintstone?” Didn’t that seem contraindicated here?
“It’s just easier right now, Mom.” She attempted to reason further, “He’s simple, and you’re just too complicated.”
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