Hugging my Porcupine

I have a book by the side of my bed "How to Hug Your Porcupine." It has been there at least a year. I have read parts of it. I need to read all of it but just can't seem to find the time since I am too busy arguing with my porcupine. The premise of the book is how to connect with your surly, unpredictable tween.

I hate to break this to you....but middle school is even harder the second time around. I didn't care for it much when I was in it. I was a pretty good kid but in middle school even pretty good kids can be nasty, impulsive and full of drama. I had no idea it would be even harder being a parent with a middle schooler. It is. I feel like I am in an argument from the time I get up until bedtime. I know....I have read all the books. I am not supposed to engage in the argument. I am supposed to let him do his thing and just sit back and smile and wait for the natural consequences. I KNOW this. But, guess what?  I can't DO this. As much as I read and I try, some things I just can't let go.

I find it hard to just stand by when he tells me he didn't bring his lunch because I didn't tell him too. Or he tries to open the car door when we were on the freeway because I have never told him not to (this really happened). School itself is going well. I think much of the surliness is saved for home because those middle schoolers are too busy just surviving and navigating during the day. I have to give them credit, it isn't easy what they are doing. Schoolwork is getting harder, kids are trying to figure out who there friends are and there is just so much to process. I am glad that if my middle schooler is going to pick on someone, it is at home instead of at school. To be honest, I do wish he would pick on Michael more than me but I know why he doesn't. Most of the time Michael can remain cool as a cucumber. That's not really my style. I am probably more jalapeno than cucumber.

If I believe everything that my middle schooler tells me than the following are true:

I serve leftovers too often.
I only work part-time (I guess 72 hours a week must be full time).
I miss too many soccer games (because of my part-time job).
I am not the sharpest tool in the shed.
I am wrong more than I am right.


Fortunately I can still beat him in pig 50% of the time and I can run farther (not faster) than he can so I have a tiny bit of credibility left.

I don't believe everything that comes out of his mouth and in my better moments, I recognize that he doesn't believe all these things either. He is just figuring things out and his family is the safest place to test his ideas, thoughts and convictions. I get all this. I am also sensing that I passed along more than just my blue eyes, decent height and love for carbs. One or both kids (generalized to not implicit the innocent) have picked up my type A personality, my introvert tendencies and possibly (I will deny it if you ask) some anxiety. It's hard to know that you may have passed some of your more challenging traits on to your kids.

A friend mentioned to me the other day that she thought it was supposed to get easier as they got older. I thought so too. In some ways it does. My kids can make a meal, dress and bathe themselves. All good things. They mostly sleep through the night and we can have discussions about things that are going on. I love that they are more independent and we can have real conversations. But, I am afraid it doesn't get easier...it just is different. Finding ways to connect becomes even more important. Knowing what's going on in their head is a little trickier. We will make it through. I will finish reading the book and one day I will be so proud of myself for successfully hugging my porcupine without getting quilled.