Teeeeennnnaaaaaggerrrss. The word alone is enough to strike fear in the heart of even the toughest adult. The good news is you don’t have to read any new books. Attachment parenting is attachment parenting is attachment parenting.
Up first. I dislike the word teenager. I prefer maiden, young lady, young adult, gentleman. Let’s call them something we want them to be. Let’s paint a verbal picture of our expectations. Give them something to live up to. Man. The word teenager is just loaded with baggage.
I fail a lot with my young adults. The young ladies (Alice, Scout and Polly) in my house are 24, 19 and 17 respectively. They have all been homeschool graduates, Polly just this past June. They are amazing women. A Maz Ing. They are about as mature as I was at the age of uh not very long ago lets just say. They don’t necessarily know where their lives are going but they Love God Deeply. And they love babies.
Doesn’t that just say it all? And Professor Calculus (not his real name), is the next one that falls under the category of young adult, having just turned 14. Yesterday. Wow. He loves babies! Wouldn’t it be amazing if pro-life always meant pro-baby? Anyway.
So, they are awesome people. I, however, fail them frequently. The only tough thing about attachment parenting is to remember that they need it as much as the two or four or six year old does. The need to be in relationship never goes away. It is in our soul. Remembering is the tough part.
So what does attachment look like in these fragile years? When my young adults are frustrated, grumpy, sad or in a bad mood, if I respond badly, things go badly. It builds bitterness and hostility If I respond remembering to keep the relationship in tact, its so good. It looks exactly the same as it did ten years early. Or twenty.
I don’t have any fun. All I ever do is work. IHATETHISWHYDIDGODGIVEME SUCHABADLIFE
Do you just need a day off to hang out and drink tea with me? Like that’s ever going to happen! I’m so busy its ridiculous!! Sobsobsob.
Probably feels like you have no life. Sniff. Worse. It feels like I just have a bad life and my friends get to do all the fun stuff.
Should we just drink tea and talk and watch a girl movie? Tonight? That would be nice. Just us girls? Can we have hot chocolate?
And gummy bears. Two each.
You Rock, my grown up daughters.
Here’s the good news, once again.
You don’t have to read any new books.
You just have to do the same thing you’ve been doing all along. The more you remember, the more they treat others with dignity. And they do it back at ya.
Remembering is the hard part.