Tales of a Middle School Mother

Tales from a Middle School Mom

“Oh my God mom, this is 2013, you don’t flippin know what you’re talking about.”  Yes, this is my new life.  I had always heard about the drama of the tween years.  I even thought that I had begun experiencing little glimpses of the drama.  But now, since I clearly know nothing, I understand that I am the mother of a middle school girl, A.K.A., Sybil, sometimes also known as, No, You Didn’t, Middle Name Stop, Last name It, you get the picture. 

Middle school began with the ending of elementary school.  We had the beautiful end of year celebration.  The awards celebration, saying good-bye to friends and hello to summer.  We even got the chance to visit the new school, the Middle School.  Our visit was a two-hour introduction to the rules and overall structure of the school.  The highlight of the overview was the fashion show.  The fashion show was an attempt to show parents and students what the students were not allowed to wear to the new middle school.  Thank you Jesus!  That was my answer to the “Go back upstairs and change that outfit” But oh no, not my sweet child.  She declared, what is this, a school for the Amish?  “I do not want to go to this school.”  “This school is horrible.”  The selected fashion models paraded on the gym floor showing us a variety of outfits, no sleeveless shirts, no holes in clothes, no lace, no see through clothing and our favorite, the FLAMINGO test, All shorts, skirts, etc. must touch your calf when you stand on one leg and lift the other.  Now, mind you, my 5’7” sixth grader may have a little difficulty, but I am willing to take one for the team! 

The summer lingered on.  There were a variety of camps and activities and a testing of boundaries.   I learned new signals, the rolling of the eyes, the huff, the foot stomp and the door slam.  The door slam did not end well.  I cannot say which of us was Sybil that day, but I can say there was one door slam too many.  I geared up, like a soldier going into battle.  I focused on each stair as I went down each stair cautiously.  Next, I opened the door to the garage and began searching in the toolbox.  Next, I made my journey up the stairs and as I reached the last stair, I stared at that door that had been slammed once too often.  I stood on my tiptoes and I did what I had no previous experience in doing before.  I unscrewed every screw that held that door in place and prayed it did not fall on me.  I knew that if that door fell, someone would be singing, “Ding dong, the witch is dead!”  Finally, the last screw out, I drug that door into the hallway and laid it against the landing, the door would not slam again for 7 days!  My point was made.

Now, there would be moments of my sweet child.  We would lay together in my bed, talking about what middle school would be like.  We talked about how exciting this all could be, and then, she found out that her best friend was returning to daycare!  Life was good and she was happy.  Next it was a trip to Gatti Town, where the middle school little person played like the little girl I used to know.  Next there was the incident, where I got a phone call.  A very sad girl was on the other line.  Her American Girl doll was broken and I needed to get it to the hospital.  “What happened, I asked?”  “Mom, there was a string in the back of head and I cut it off.” “When I cut it off, her head fell off.”  “What?”  I informed her that I would call the American Girl Doll hospital and get her a room.  I did just that and called the E.M.T.s better known as U.P.S. to take the doll, A.K.A. Sage to the hospital.  My little girl wanted to know if my insurance was paying for all of this.  “Yes, I said, my insurance is taking care of her injuries.”  Yes, I said to myself, not all grown up yet. 

Vaccinations

"Please mom, please, can I have amnesia for the shots, please?"   "Amnesia, what, do you mean Anesthesia?"   "No, you cannot." " You would have to get a shot for anesthesia too."  And so it began, the pleading, the tears, the attempt to hold back a tween who was having none of the vaccination process.  The nurse looked at me and I at her.  I looked at her as if to say, you chose this profession, I, did not choose to give shots to anxiety filled tweens on the verge of middle school.  As the Turtle man would say, "This is Live Action!"  Well, we made it and down to the car we walked, a little worse for the wear, but we made it.

Next step, Middle School orientation. 

This process is a three -hour process where the parents and children are separated into groups to go through a lifelike simulation of the middle school day.  We learned about tweeting teachers, trips to Greece, Gym class, on-line homework and much more.  My daughter, learned about freedom.  She is now free to make a lot of choices.  She became very excited about Math and Science.  She was very excited about seeing all of her friends again.  There was just so much information. 

Next, the shopping trip.  

This was a six-hour journey into the mall abyss.  I had both tweens with me.  Both girls have completely different styles, neither, which are my styles completely.  I love to shop, but this took my love of shopping to a new level.  It tested my inner fashionista.  For the love of Louis Vuitton and Ralph Lauren.  We returned home with multiple bags from every designer under the mall rooftop.  I mistakenly thought all of those beautiful clothing items would be hung up nicely in the closet and placed neatly in the drawers.  I was incorrect in my assumption.  I spent the next weekend rearranging drawers and closet space, trying to organize closets and drawers and imagining what I would have done, if my back to school shopping trips would have been so elaborate.  I do fondly remember my trips the mall, but mostly it was Target and then home.  I do remember, once I began earning my own money, I was able to purchase a great deal more of the items I so dearly desired. 

In between some of this drama was the bike ride.  This is the child  that declared, “I don’t want to learn to ride a bike!”  And learn to ride, she did not.  Until one day, I looked out my window and saw my youngest saying come on, you can do it, you can do it, and to my surprise, there she was, Ms. Determined, coming down the street, flying on the new 10 speed that my youngest had received for her birthday.  The tween had decided that she wanted to learn to ride a bike that day and ride a bike she did.  She’ll make a great leader one day, determined, stubborn and clear about her goals!  A leader and not a follower, that’s my girl.  If I could just get her to follow my lead a little more. 

The week before school drew near and I mentioned that my tween would be riding the bus with her friends to the new middle school.  This provided me with a reaction I was not expecting.  “You’re not taking me to the first day of school?”  “No, I didn’t think that would be acceptable in middle school, I said. “  Keep in mind; this is the child that would not let me be seen in the halls of her elementary school, once she reached the 4^th grade.  Yes, another sign that childhood still exists.  “Ok, I’ll take you, don’t worry, I will always be there for you, I reassured her.” 

Next, the adventure begins.  

August 6^th came and unexpectedly, the tween decided the bus would be more acceptable, since her friend would be on it.  I waited all day, anxiously waiting to see how things went, what was this new experience. And well, here is what I learned:

1.     She now has a mature relationship, not one of those immature relationships.

2.     I am no longer needed to cook breakfast; she will eat in the cafeteria with her friends.

3.     I was born a long time ago.

4.     She is more responsible then I know.

5.     When she is sixteen, she is getting a jeep.

6.     She can’t understand why my mother isn’t anything like me

Now, I’ve also learned that I must treasure every moment of the little girl I used to know and the young woman that she is trying to become, maybe a little too quickly.  So, every little hug and every little request for help because there’s a noise in her room, I will answer with a little more enthusiasm. 

Now, does that mean that the continuous eye rolling will not send me over the edge from one moment to the next, no, it will just prepare me for the teenage years, for I hear those might be worse.  I just said a prayer. 

Oh, did I tell you, the school just tweeted, this week, the kids learn about sexting - I'm going to need a lot of Jesus this year.