The Twilight Zone (AKA the Tween Years)

I have entered the Twilight Zone. It’s true. Right here in suburban West Hartford is our own little zone of drama and suspense followed by more drama, and often ending with an unexpected plot twist. Those parents living with a tween girl between the ages of 10-12 will probably understand what I am talking about.

I can actually pin point the day when I first entered the Zone: February 27, 2014. It’s been exactly one month and three days since I’ve been in this crazy place, and it’s getting crazier by the day.

The comfort of knowing my husband is here with me, is actually no comfort at all, since he is not good with change or surprises. Which is not so great if you are a dad of two girls.  In fact, if he could hid under the covers until both of our girls have gone through puberty, dating, and other adolescent milestones, he would be happiest to meet them at their wedding and walk them down the aisle.

The morning started out like a typical morning. With our 10 year old and 8 year girls old arguing over whose turn it was in the bathroom, what clothes to wear, and who doesn’t like bananas today, we were of course running late out the door. My husband took my youngest to school, while I drove my oldest to her eye doctor appointment. As a side note, 10 has recently developed secondary-glaucoma, a side-effect of her cataract and lens implant surgery. She has been amazingly strong about this latest medical issue, and as a result, has seen a glaucoma specialist for the last few months. The doctor is located in New Haven in the same office as her regular eye doc, which pretty much guarantees a three hour visit or longer due to the drive time.  

On this particular morning, 10 was her usual self in the car, calm for the majority of the drive, and more and more anxious as we neared the New Haven exit.  Then the questions began: What will the exam be like this time? Will he have to do many drops? What tests will happen? Will they hurt? Will you do the drops? And on and on. By the time we arrived to the doctor’s office, she had gotten herself good and anxious, and I was exhausted as we walked in.  We held hands, and I assured her that of course I will be there with her the entire visit. We have been going to this practice since she was a baby, so she is used to the long drive, used to the office lobby and the nurses’ pre-visit questions, however the actual visit, she is still not so sure about. And to be honest, I can’t blame her. She has been through a lot of medical issues in her ten years, including four eye surgeries, so having developed glaucoma, while not entirely surprising, was still a shock to all of us.  However scared and anxious my husband and I were to hear this fairly recent diagnosis, she has to be the one to live with it. Again, I can’t blame her for squeezing my hand as we entered his office.

Okay now that the scene is set, let me share with you what unfolds…

Throughout the two hour visit, and multiple tests and waiting, 10 is the daughter I know. She is nice, sweet and wonderful. She is scared at times, but pleasant to me and to everyone around her. She leans on me during the “waiting” periods, and draws flowers and hearts on notebooks. She talks to me about school, about clothes, about what she wants to do this weekend. We talk about her sister’s upcoming recital and if she wants to continue growing her hair out or get it cut. Typical mother-daughter conversations.  When her appointment is finally finished around 11:15am, we leave, both of us spent and exhausted. While driving her back to school, she asks if we can stop at McD’s and have a shake as a special treat. I can’t think of a more wonderful thing to have right about now, so of course, I say, and yep, I order a chocolate one for myself. Driving back to West Hartford she tells me she loves me and I tell her how proud I am of her for being so strong. We laugh and sing along to “Royals” on the radio.

Scene two…

We pull into the parking lot of school. As we enter the school, she tells me she isn’t sure if her class is in lunch or not.

Me: We’ll let’s go into the office and ask.

10:  Mommmmmm, don’t embarrass me! she says, quickly.

Me: What? How is that going to embarrass you? I ask, confused.

10: Just don’t she says, rolling her eyes.

I realize then that the eye rolling, is obviously because we have entered the “school zone” and so laughing and singing along is over. Apparently embarrassing and annoying mom is here.  I need not worry about saying anything embarrassing since the ladies in the front office, know her and tell her yes, her class is having lunch, she should just leave her backpack and jacket in the front office, and pick it up after lunch. So she does, and we turn to leave. We are walking in the hallway, side by side, when she stops suddenly. She looks at me and says, in a voice I don’t recognize,

10: Where are you going, mom?
Me: (Um, what is she talking about? Didn’t she just hear her class is eating in the cafeteria?) Confused, I respond:
Me:  To the cafeteria.
10:  Why? You don’t need to walk with me. I’m TEN.
Me: Okay, I say.

Quick hug and I retreat back to the front office dazed and a little confused, since I am not sure what just happened. “She didn’t want you to go with her, did she”, says Miss Lady in the front office matter-of-factly, who has probably seen this scene play out one too many times throughout the years.

Sad and confused, I shake my head. I realized right then and there she was spreading her wings. Becoming more independent. Growing up. But totally caught off guard, and entered this crazy Twilight Zone/tween place.

Driving into work after this exhausting and confusing morning, I phone my sister. She is a social worker and child therapist, and my usual go-to when faced with parenting challenges or childhood mysteries. The first thing out of her mouth, when I tell her of the exchange which just happened in the hallway:  WOW. That’s wonderful. Good for 10. She is showing her independence and growing up.

Of course it’s good, I say. Only how would you feel if one minute you are holding hands and she is telling you how much she loves you and you are the best mom, and then two minutes later who are you, because she doesn’t want to be seen with you?

I think I put a lot of stock on dependence. If she depends on me she loves me. It’s a hard thing for a mom to let go of.

After sharing my morning with a few friends who have older daughters, I realized this seems to be typical “tween” behavior. This crazy, I–love-you-and-need-you-but-don’t-need-you-now, back and forth. I think it’s called growing up. And wow have we entered it.

I am learning how to be the guiding/patient mom during through this bizarre time. Just these past four weeks I have had to remind my dear, but clueless hubby, do not comment during the “hair saga” each morning. Do NOT give your opinion or tell her it looks nice just the way it is.  You will be met with sighing, eye rolling and the occasional “What are you talking about?!” door slam.  Just walk, away, walk away, I swear that man is a glutton for punishment.  

I know 10 is trying her best to navigate through this uncertain and changing time in her life. All I can do, I realize, is be there for her.  Love her and be near her, but not too close, that I am in her space. Near enough that she knows I am here when she wants to talk, like during our Saturday morning coffee dates we have recently begun, but not too close, so doesn’t learn to stand on her own and steer her own course.

The tween years I have dubbed the “Twilight Zone” have arrived. And for the most part, I am loving them. We have bonding more than ever, sharing more “grown up” afternoons of shopping, and girls’ night outs, and much more meaningful in-depth conversations. She is growing into a wonderful young woman, full of compassion and kindness towards others. It’s just when these independent acts of eye-rolling-sighing-slamming-doors-I-hate-my-hair-why-do-I-have-to-have-hair-like-you-anyway crazy scenes happen, I am still caught off guard.

Not sure what I will call the actual teen years, as they are only right around the corner. I’m sure they will come smack in the middle of the day. When I’m least prepared. And much too soon for this mom. Good thing I have another one who will surprise me soon enough with her own Twilight Zone. Hopefully I will be ready…