Sometimes and in some ways, the difference between Philip and Chloe is particularly pronounced. It is more than just the gender and age difference, although those differences play a significant role of course. This summer, the difference between my two teenagers is most pronounced in the way they want to communicate with their parents.
Philip is the quiet one. He spends a large chunk of his summer days in the privacy of his bedroom. The vast majority of his socializing is with Joshua. The two watch action movies and play video games. Carson joins them roughly half the time. When asked about his day, Philip keeps his answers brief. His silence makes me realize how much I am actually interested in knowing about the mundane parts of his life. Instead, Philip only wants to speak when he is thinking about deeper issues and he usually picks just one parent to engage. Yesterday, Philip emerged from his bedroom intending to go for a run. But then he stopped and asked me if I knew about the men called “Grass-eaters” in Japan. His question got us onto a twenty minute discussion that went from his original topic to broader cultural trends and ended with a discussion of technical trends. He wanted to find a tablet-style computer with a sliding keyboard like our mobile phones. We only managed to find one online. The technology seemed like it has not yet stabilized and this is where our discussion ended. As quickly as he engaged, he returned to his silence and his room.
Chloe never tires of talking. She will invite either me or Amelia to talk with her, even when she has nothing to discuss. Once she has one or both of us engaged, she simply asks what we would like to talk about. If we ask her questions, she is happy to confide just about anything. And whenever she has an actual story to tell, she will seize upon the first opportunity to tell it. We’ve heard about every silly thing Katherine’s single father has said and done in her presence. We know about every annoying thing each and all of her friends have done. She’ll talk about the books she is reading, her friends, boys in her social circle and her ideas for the teen romance novel I have been slowly writing. If the behavior of one of her peers ever bothers her, she asks us over and over to give our critique. We don’t want to deny Chloe the opportunity to interact, but there are days when she does everything she can to keep us from doing anything else. It seems the only time we find relief from non-stop effort to engage her parents is when she is fast asleep or spending time with a friend.
As it turns out, I realize what I want from each of them is something in between each of their extremes. I want Philip to speak more freely about his day and even include the mundane details. I’d like him to spend more time with us and less time in his room. I’d also like him to expand his friendship network beyond Carson and Joshua. In contrast, I’d like Chloe to interrupt our workdays only when she has something urgent to discuss and to be comfortable ending conversations when there is nothing more to say. I’d like her to find more satisfaction in doing things she can do alone in her room.
But perhaps there is a lesson in all this. Perhaps we all need to accept that teenagers live in extremes. They are either extremely happy or extremely upset. They are either full of energy or exhausted. They are either fully focused or completely distracted. They are either completely committed or dragging their feet. By living in these extremes for a window of life, they experience the full spectrum before settling into a boring equilibrium. It is yet another reason why as a culture we love teenagers and why if done right the teen years can be the best years of parenting.
No comments:
Post a Comment