15 Down, ? To Go

My baby girl turns 15 today, and it's raining just as much as the morning she was born. That day, I stared in wonder at this baby girl I was certain was a boy up until the doctor announced otherwise (so much for mothers always knowing), awkwardly nursed her for the first time, and wondered how all that reading and preparing was really going to work out. How would I know what this little person needed?


That last part is still a daily challenge. Jordyn's at least two inches taller than I am, but I still wonder what she needs most days. What she wants is not so much the concern because honestly that is often irrelevant. Needs run deeper, and left unmet, can have long lasting consequences. Needs also often directly oppose wants, particularly in the adolescents of a species. It's this differentiating between the two that fills most of my recent parenting moments. It was so much easier when I understood that while she may have wanted a cookie, she merely needed to eat something. Those decisions were relatively easy, and tantrums were short and fairly easy to ignore.


Ignoring still works when it seems to fit the issue at hand, but the tantrums have evolved into hole-in-the-head-boring glares, which have the ability to enrage me more than kicking and screaming ever did. I find myself recalling the signs/cards/email jokes about teenagers being a reminder of why some animals eat their young. What once elicited a laugh now spurs a knowing nod and evil smirk. Funny, yet not.


The 15-year-old cookies come in a variety of flavors: unlimited access to computer, freedom from schoolwork, freedom from household chores, unlimited time locked in bathroom despite brother's needs, unconditional and unlimited cell phone access.


Call me old school, but I believe in earning a privilege and abiding by the rules or conditions attached to said privilege. I recognize that this falls under concepts needing to be learned, not those necessarily wanting to be learned. In our household, cell phone ownership and usage is one such privilege.


Rule #1a: Cell phone is to be kept charged at all times.


Rule #1b: Cell phone charger is to travel between both parents' residence in order to ensure compliance to Rule 1a.


Jordyn's cell phone compliance has been pretty good, but this last weekend when she and Robby were at their father's house, I was unable to reach her on her phone, which was apparently turned off. When I was able to get in touch with them via their father's phone, I inquired about the phone issue, and was met with the typical duh-are-you-stupid-mom? tone in her explanation of the fact that she only had two bars. When asked why she did not charge her phone, she seamlessly switched to her it's-everyone-else's-fault tone as she avoided saying the words, "I forgot my charger at home." I cut her off just before the anticipated and familiar something's-wrong-with-this-phone line of excuses.


The consequence for failing to follow Rules 1a and 1b is that the cell phone is confiscated for the next week.


Back to the fact that today is Jordyn's birthday and to the admission that once in awhile I would just give her the damn cookie. Would I have the strength to withhold the cell phone through her birthday? Had it occurred to Jordyn that she had blown it the week of her birthday, and now she would be without that cherished connection to her friends on her special day?


It did. Last night. But in only that way that Jordyn can, she made it that much easier to say, "no, you may not have a cookie," and tempted me to eat one right in front of her. Instead of sucking up a little and then honestly asking if she could have her phone back, she simply informed me that a friend wanted to call her on her birthday but only had her cell phone number (THE HORROR). And then looked at me with that unspoken, "well?" This is where she expects me to connect all of the dots for her and graciously offer her the phone back early because she is somehow entitled. Had she thought to give this friend the home number when they were together 20 minutes before? Um, no. She then asks when exactly she IS getting her phone back, which sounds more to me like she's asked how long I plan on engaging in the cruel and unusual punishment she has learned in school in unconstitutional. Yeah, that's when it's very easy to take that first bite of cookie and remind her that the week ends Friday. Sucks to be you, sister.


As she bores that hole in my head, I remember that I was feeling a little sorry for her that she wouldn't have her phone today. I got over it. See, that's a want. And the fact that she can act so entitled and bore that hole deep into my forehead because I refuse to comply with her desire illustrates her need to learn discipline and the difference between a right and a privilege.


I did point out that in the future, she may want to pay special attention to the rule book that week before her birthday. Consequences tend to burn a little more this time of year. And as we head into this home stretch of parenting, I'm pretty sure she could end up with more than a cell phone at stake.



I may have taken a little bit of pleasure in withholding what she wanted, but I still got up a little earlier than I have been (okay, I'm unemployed, so A LOT earlier than I have been) in order to wish my birthday girl a happy day and provide a rare weekday hot meal. I also provided the rare ride to school due to the wet weather. And I will soon venture out into the Storm of 2010 to purchase beautiful, delicious, one-of-a-kind cupcakes from our local bakery. The birthday princess wants red velvet. That she can have.