Listen, I love my kids. Really, they’re great.
I’ve always been pretty good with kids, babysitting since I was way too young by today’s standards, helping out at church, working at an after-school program when I was in college, ya know, a kid person.
But teenagers, man, that’s my jam.
People love to complain about what a pain teens are and how awful it is to raise them, and honestly, I’ve always been kind of appalled by that. This age is so incredible! Teens’ brains are developing so fast their bodies can’t keep up, then their bodies develop so fast their brains have to be put on hold to manage it all. They are awkward and goofy and forgetful and absurd; but they’re also passionate, adventurous, funny, and so wide open to what could be, the potential is really stunning.
My husband and I started our family really young, and I confess the early years felt like extended babysitting; I didn’t really know what to do with a baby. I mean, I figured it out by the time the 3rd one came around, it’s fine. And I loved being mommy to itty bitties. They were curious and funny and precocious and so full of life. They wore me plumb out, but being their mom was such a joy. Even so, I have to admit I always looked forward to their teenage years.
As much as I loved having babies and toddlers and watching their little personalities blossom in childhood, I so eagerly anticipated my kids’ adolescence, when their wit and humor would mature and we could laugh together about things that are actually funny. I was so excited to share with them some of my favorite books and movies and music that are not exactly kid-friendly but they can appreciate as teens. I was genuinely happy to imagine the day when they didn’t have to go to bed so early and we could stay up late to go to a concert or stay at a theme park from open to close or be at the midnight showing of a movie we couldn’t wait to come out. This was going to be THE BEST.
Then my kids became teenagers. And, well…I am not having fun.
My husband and I have been working with teenagers since we were barely out of that stage ourselves, and while I knew parenting teens would be different than being their youth pastor, I thought all my experience and lessons would have better prepared me for this. I anticipated them thinking I was lame and rolling their eyes so hard they could get stuck. I knew being their parent means not being their friend, so the dynamic would be tense at times. I expected there would be challenges, but my experience of them would be tempered by the pure awesomeness that is being around teenagers.
As it turns out, we’re not doing much of the fun stuff I imagined and have always loved. My kids don’t appreciate my humor and do not enjoy any of the funny things that I love so much. They can hardly stand to lay eyes on a movie that’s formatted for a square screen, and they won’t touch anything black and white, no matter how much I rave that “it’s a classic!!!!” And yeah, they stay up late now, but they just want to play video games or text their friends or scroll on apps. We went to Universal Studios Florida for spring break, and they wanted to leave before 4pm every day so they could go back to the hotel and veg out in front of the TV. They’re embarrassed to have friends over, even though their friends love us (maybe that’s what makes it embarrassing?), and sometimes I think it’s their personal mission to do the opposite of everything I spent their whole lives teaching them, just to prove me wrong. (As you can imagine, this is not working out well for them, but that doesn’t stop them from persisting in their efforts.)
I am tired. I am stressed. I cry a lot. This is not the 2025 I imagined in 2008 when we welcomed our first child and looked forward to the future.
But honestly, it’s not the 2025 she imagined for herself either. My oldest had just turned 12 – on the cusp of adolescence – in 2020 when the world shut down. Middle school was marked by masks and social distancing, and none of the developmental experiences like sleepovers and youth trips and school dances that would have shaped her the way they did for me. My kids are living a fundamentally different teenage experience than my husband and I had, back in the days of getting dropped off somewhere and calling from a pay phone to be picked up. Our social experiences were entirely contextual, lived out in real-time with the people around us. Our kids are constantly inundated with influences from all over their school and all over the world at all times – they can be at the mall with one group of friends, but sucked into a group chat with a whole other group of friends while social media reels of complete strangers tell them how they should act, what they should like, who they should want to be. We have waited until they were 14 to give our kids personal devices (so two out of four are still phone-less), but that hasn’t stopped them from feeling the pressures that the internet puts on teens these days. If I’m being honest, I think teenage me would crumble under the pressure my kids are sustaining.
So yeah, the truth is I am not having the fun I expected at this stage, but that doesn’t mean it’s all for naught. My 17-year-old daughter is nothing short of an inspiration considering the challenges she has overcome in the last few years, and my 14-year-old son is helpful when I ask, and he will still play outside with his nine-year-old brother. The 13-year-old is still developing his sense of humor, but it’s trending in a direction similar to mine, so maybe I’ll end up with someone to laugh at my nerdy jokes eventually after all. My youngest is still sweet and silly, and although he sometimes mimics the teenage attitude displayed by everyone else in our house, it’s just a front, and deep down he just wants to play and cuddle and be my little boy while he still can. My kids aren’t feeling sorry for themselves that being a teenager now is different than it was 20 (or 5!) years ago, so why should I?
This stage of parenting is not the same kind of fun that youth pastoring was, but there are plenty of opportunities for joy, laughter, and playfulness. We can celebrate the wins as they come and remember we’re playing a long game. In the end, this is such a brief phase in their lives and mine, and what’s most important is that they remember their mom loved them enough to try, to keep showing up, to keep pushing through for them even when she kinda wanted to throw them out the window.
