Tea Kettle to Progress

I've never been one to advocate screaming at children. However, I do believe that you need to raise your voice occasionally to be heard.  

Puberty and being a teen has hit our middle Heathen with the subtilty of a shovel, or maybe a 2x4. Whatever your metaphor is for "suddenly and painfully," that's how it has arrived. And it hasn't been pleasant for anyone involved. 

We've gone the "patience" route. We've given him "space."  We've given him "choices" in whether he spends time with us when his attendance is not required. We've "ignored" some behaviors in the hopes that they would disappear when they didn't get the desired reaction. As of Wednesday night, I had run out of options that I've learned over the years in working with teenagers, or in any of the psych classes I've taken. The reservoir of strategies was not only empty, but it had a dry bottom. 

Wednesday evening, after spending an hour and half straight of listening to him complain about every living thing under the sun, I escaped and went on a four mile run. It was silent bliss. 

I knew the Heathens were hungry and I decided to stop at Subway. I called the house to verify every one's standard order. Heathen #2 often thinks we choose to eat out deliberately on occasions that he chooses not to join us - I was thinking I was going to take home a sandwich and he would feel at least slightly loved and less like a miserable teenager.  

That was my "unicorn" and I was going to capture it. The sandwich I had in the car was magical. The night would be salvaged by it - the poor sandwich had no idea the expectations that I placed upon it. 

I almost made it into the house with the sandwiches for everyone before he started to complain about something new. And his favorite words to use in his complaining are "always" and "never."  Shoots my blood pressure sky high. 

And I lost it. I turned into the whistling kettle that no one will take off the burner. It just keeps going whistling. 

I stood in my kitchen and yelled at him about being so miserable to be around and that he was driving me crazy. I yelled that I realized that teenagers are supposed to be moody, but that wasn't the goal he should have set for himself. I yelled that it has been at least three days since I had heard him say anything nice to anyone, or even seen him smile. I yelled that I loved him to pieces but that I didn't want to spend time with him if all he was going to do was complain.  I repeated myself a lot because the frustration had finally reached the point of no return. 

Then I handed him his sandwich, told him to enjoy it and explained that I had specifically made a point of bringing him a sandwich in the hopes that I managed to do something right in his opinion.  That my whole goal for the sandwich was him to smile, say thank you, and enjoy his sandwich. 

Then I walked away and hid in my bedroom for 30 minutes, convinced that I had just ruined my teenager and he probably was plotting my demise.  But I knew I could not leave it like that. Neither of us could go to bed like that. I had to fix my screw-up to the best of my ability. So I tracked him through the house and found him in the living room picking at his sandwich. 

He was sitting in a chair and I sat on the floor in front of him, so that I had to look up at him. And I apologized for yelling. I told him that as an adult, I should have been able to explain the situation without yelling at him about it. Obviously, I still had flaws that I need to work on improving. 

But the yelling didn't change the fact that he'd been very unpleasant to be around lately.  He has to survive middle and high school before he can "escape" the small fish bowl where we live. And he can choose to look at the unhappy side of everything and complain constantly. Or he can choose to look at the happy side and be happier. Because, more than anything, I want to see him happy again and to hear him laugh. He has the best laugh.  And I love hearing him laugh. 

So we made a deal. I am going to work on not yelling when I get frustrated with him. Adults don't yell at each other in our Zoo and he is turning into a young adult. He is going to work on not complaining. 

Today, Heathen #2's plans did not go according to the master schedule in his head. And I admit to starting to panic because I knew there was a temper tantrum coming and I just didn't want to deal with it.  

Instead, Heathen #2 stood in the kitchen in front of me and took a big breath and let it out. And then dealt with the situation like a rational adult - calm and cool and collected. 

I told him how well he handled the situation and how proud I was of him. And while I was sorry his plans hadn't worked out, in a way, I was thrilled the plans had gone poorly just so that I got the chance to see him handle it so well. I was so proud I was trying not to cry. 

He asked if it was okay that he was angry and wanted to scream because he was so frustrated. And I said of course! You're still human. You'll still get upset. It's all in how you deal with it. And he asked for a hug. And he got one. And I needed that hug at least as much (if not more) than he did. 

So, maybe the yelling was needed to get his attention the night before. Maybe the conversation afterward would have been enough. Whichever, he chose to be happier today and I saw him smile. I saw him get along with both of the other Heathens. I'll take the calm for as long as it lasts. But he gained a small bit of maturity today. We'll take it and keep moving forward.  Well done today, Heathen. Well done.