Deciphering Tween Talk

It was a dark and stormy morning.  Armed with only my coffee mug in hand, I enter into the dimly-lit room.  Images from old black and white horror movies race through my mind.  My fight or flight instinct kicks in and I take another sip of courage in the form of Folgers in my cup.  Will it be Dr. Jekyll or Ms. Hyde that emerges from her slumber.  Nah, it’s just my twelve-year-old daughter ignoring her alarm clock once again.

 

 

 It is now 7:00 A.M. and I have already accomplished much; fed the dog and the cat, taken the dog out, woken up and given breakfast to my seven-year-old son, made the aforementioned java, put the damp laundry that I forgot about and left in the washing machine last night into the dryer so that my husband could have clean socks to wear today, and was now preparing myself to wake up ‘THE TWEENER FROM THE BLACK LAGOON!’  Just kidding-kind of…

 

 

It’s Wednesday.  Hump day-middle of the week day, which is a good thing.  Monday was even a snow day so the school week was already shortened, making my morning rituals with the kids a bit easier.  But, middle school can be a challenge to even the most confident of kids.  My seventh grader has had a fairly easy adjustment from elementary to middle school.  Or so she has always led me to believe.

 

 

However, yesterday she asked if a friend could over after school to ‘hang out’ for awhile.   I should have known that something was up when they volunteered to take the dog on a walk around the block as soon as they got here.  My daughter NEVER offers to take the dog out without me pestering her repeatedly about it.  When they got home again they ditched the doggie and proceeded to sit on the swingset out back and chat for about an hour.  Nothing wrong with that, except that it was cold outside and they were just wearing tee shirts and jeans.  Being the nosey mother that I am, I mean, the caring mother that I am, I went out a couple of times to offer snacks and to inquire why they didn’t just come inside where it was much warmer?  “We’re okay Mom.”  my daughter, aka Dr. Jekyll answered sweetly.  “I remember when she called me Mommy not Mom,”  I reminisce to myself.  These days she usually refers to me as Mother, and when she says it, it sounds suspiciously like “Mutha…”

 

 

Twenty-minutes later they come inside to get coats, and return to the swings.  Apparently they were willing to brave the elements to talk privately where a seven-year-old little brother and a fifty-one-year old mother would not interrupt them.  Eventually, it was time to bring my son to a Cub Scouting event and I offered to drop Dr. Jekyll’s friend off at her house on the way.  “Thank you Mrs. Burns.”  she said climbing into the front passenger seat of my van.  “So, did you girls have a nice chat out back?”  I ask.  “Yea.  Sometimes you just need to talk about stuff ya know?”  Her friend said.  Then they both started filling me in on their topics of discussion; popularity, fashion, hair, homework, teachers, and sports.  They told me all of this in an intelligent, thoughtful and respectful manner.  “Wow!-When I was in seventh grade I kept all of my thoughts and feelings locked deep inside me under a thick layer of insecurity.”  I remembered to myself.  “You girls are going to come out on the other end of middle school just fine!”  I tell them.  “Just keep talking to people about the things that are bothering you and you’ll do great.”  I add.

 

 So. when Ms. Hyde awakens grumbling and shooting looks that could kill in her family members directions, I will try to remind myself of how truly tricky adolescence is and give her a wide berth as she readies herself for another day of the soap opera better known as middle school.