Facing what it means to parent a teen. by Michele Ranard, M.Ed. 800 wds Raising teens while navigating the uncharted territory of midlife can be challenging for any parent. It’s confusing. Experts warn of the dangers of too permissive parenting or being their friend (“You’re an authority, not their bud!”). Yet there are plenty of moments it feels perfectly natural to be friendly—to...
It is incredibly hard not to suck.Tonight I've been editing essay stuff written in the last few weeks (some of it was even posted), and it's all crap. All.I am disgustedand overwhelmedand thinking I may need a break, a change of scenery, a new career, or stronger prescriptions. ...
All I really need to know, I learned away from a mosh pit. Lilacs are blooming. School's out for the summer. The teen-natives in our house are restless. You know what that means. Arts and crafts! Slip 'n Slide! Library central! Maybe. But not really. Actually, it’s moshing season for our highschoolers who like to thrash. Do you speak mosh? Before I translate, you should be briefed...
A mom worries about her son's love for mosh. An old friend in Georgia I haven’t seen in years facebooked me a few months ago after he read an essay I wrote about the moshing antics of my sons. He wanted to know if I was just embellishing as a writer, and if not, whether my husband and I just fork over the health...
This just in. I wrecked my kids. Our son L. has incredible long-term memory. Although he cannot possibly be expected to remember to turn off the tap after washing his hands (THIS IS THE CRAPTASTIC TRUTH), he can indeed recall the menu selections in the cafeteria on Flag Day in second grade. Unfortunately for me and my husband, he can also recall every...
My teenagers hear tones that aren't there. Navigating this phase of midlife and pre-menopause can be trippy. Moody highs and lows fluctuate moment to moment. Estrogen levels surge or bottom out, and I become the anxious and neurotic Betty Basketcase. Human contact becomes a problem (I know, I know, the neuroscience and chemistry of imbalance is much more complicated than this, but on planet hotflash,...
The unnerving dating rituals of a high school freshman in his natural habitat. The young J. is not old enough to officially date. Our son is, however, allowed to have supervised housedates. Housedates are a lot like playdates of yesteryear, except now playa flat irons his hair before miss thang comes over to hang (I realize I cannot pull off charming ghettoliciousness and indeed may require...
We are not complete idiots, but we did leave the teens at home alone. We left for a few days of pleasure. We left two teens behind with threats of random drop-ins from grandparents. We had our phones on us. We left specific verbal and written instructions for the highschoolers so everyone could be clear about expectations and consequences. We're very evolved like that....
Sometimes the reason we feel compelled to write is mysterious, and sometimes it is not.Why write?Sure, I could write a bunch of psychoanalytic bullsh*t about the reasons I continue to write or a cheeky diatribe on the obsessive and relentless compulsion to play with words every single day, and it would make excellent copy and satisfy you. But the truth is, why I write is not terribly complex. I have...
Feels like 1982. Fast Times At Ridgemont High was on cable the other night, and as I watched, it occurred to me that somehow I gave birth to not one, but two Spicolis. My forever barefoot sons are teenagers who have only surfed once, but based on their gnarly ‘tudes, shaggy hair, and Spicoli-isms, you might mistake them for seasoned beach bums. Remember Sean Penn’s...