Tuesday 5 May 2021
“Miss!! Turn the board down ! It is so bright… it’s like Jesus has come into the room!”
And so, with a lot of laughter, my working week begins! Teenagers – I live with them, I work with them. They can test my patience and sanity to the absolute limit but at their best, their feisty, funny, outspoken best they can brighten up the day like nobody else. And, it is true in the classroom, that a lesson that begins with a smile, usually goes better than one that starts with a rant. But sometimes a rant also has its place. And this is equally true in the home…
Our house has been a whirl of school and college exams of late. Prom-dress daughter grinds stoically through a testing ordeal of assessments designed to support her Teacher Assessed Grades for A’levels this Summer. For Small Boy too, after a crazy 12 months of school closures and online lessons, come Year 10 Mocks. He also works well to prepare for his tests in most subjects. I say most, because there is one notable exception. The night before his maths exam, over tea, I offer to help him with some revision,
“Oh, I don’t need to revise for that one – all the topics on the list are really easy”
is his casual response. It is like a red rag to a bull, not just because maths happens to be my subject, but also because ‘trying your best’ is our household motto. So this feels like a betrayal and I am unable to stop my hackles starting to rise. Predictably preachy and rather more acidly than I might have hoped, I point out that in our household we ‘always prepare’, that he does need to ‘look at some questions‘ and that I do expect him to ‘aim a bit higher’. Something about my tone clearly lights the touch paper of teen indignation because within moments, I am under fire,
“You are putting too much pressure on me!”
“Its my life mum, not yours!”
Angry, self-righteous cries fly across the kitchen table. I am quite weary and for a split second toy with the idea of just giving in. It would be a lot easier to shrug “Oh have it your way” and put my feet up with a nice cuppa. But it feels like a dereliction of parental duty so I dig in.
But in an increasingly toxic atmosphere, I compromise and allow Small Boy to organise his own revision. Eyeballing me with disdain, this turns out to be my son swiping his phone on, watching a 3 minute maths video, before sauntering out of the room announcing ‘Revision done mother!” over his shoulder. It feels very much like a ‘lose , lose‘ situation and I grit my teeth for a tense week.
Happily however, I manage to avoid further confrontation and the ensuing days are harmonious ones. I do forget to wash Small Boy’s PE kit and have to rush it through a hurried 30-minute wash on PE morning itself. But I just apologise and my son really couldn’t be any more reasonable about heading to school in a distinctly damp set of joggers. As a reward for much improved communication and reliability when meeting his friends, Small Boy and I also negotiate a slightly pushed back ‘home time’ for his next social outing. All is well, all is calm, all is pleasant. Perhaps a battle really is never worth it, I ponder. But there is another page to turn on this tale.
Towards the end of the week, his teachers start to hand back test results and Small Boy is thrilled by his scores… with one notable exception. On Thursday, I arrive home to a cup of tea and a sheepish looking boy clutching a mathematics book,
“Er mum…I have to resit my maths test tomorrow…can you give me a bit of help ?”
Oh perhaps that really was the Lord in my White board at school, because this feels like divine redemption! It takes under 20 minutes, a couple of revision cards on probability tree, before he is pretty much ready for anything ! I have to confess that I am unable to resit a bit of a raised eyebrow but my son holds up both hands muttering, “I know mum“, so I magnanimously leave it there and hope it is a lesson learned.
So can we ever completely avoid clashing with our offspring? Probably not. Look, I could have handled this week’s conflict far better, but I defy any parent to claim perfection when navigating the daily battery of teenage-rearing challenges. Not just because we’re human. Not just because our kids can be the most exasperating creatures on the planet. But because sometimes, it matters.
The trusty old adage to ‘choose your battles’ is essential advice for any parent, but battle you sometimes must. Yes, occasionally to be a good parent you have to roll up your sleeves and face the flak, because its worth it and…they may even thank you in the end!
Smashing Single Parenthood 