Teens and Setting Limits by Darylynn Starr Rank

Hi everyone.Dealing with teenagers.  Teaching them.  Setting limits.  Hoping something works.  All ideas that can send chills of anxiety down the spines of most parents.
                   
One of my favourite memories of the joys, hardships, and challenges of parenting teens happened several years ago at the home of one of my friends. The day was true Vancouver: misty-wet-cold miserable.  The kind where the multiple layers of Gore-Tex, sweaters, and jackets just don't seem to being doing much of anything about the chill that settles inside your body. 

The big guys and the little guys were off on some outing in the wilderness, while the women/mothers, and one teenage daughter, were doing one of the only outdoor activities that does help keep you warm -- sitting deep in the hot, bubbling luxury of a cedar hot tub.

We were all in a playful mood, enjoying the daring of bathing suits in December, and the mother/women started teasing the young 'un.  I think the topic had to do with the possibility of one of her boyfriends showing up, unannounced, for a visit. 

There was giggling all around the tub, from both generations, the daughter fighting back with great style - until quick as a flash, or so we  thought, the adults went too far.  Fourteen years old,  a burgeoning woman, the daughter burst into tears and leapt from the tub, scooting gingerly over the icy patio into the house.  The door slammed.

We three full-grown women grimaced at each other.  "Oops," someone said, summing it up. 

Suddenly the upstairs window directly above the hot tub slammed open and the daughter leaned out.  "You hurt my feelings," she said.
 
"We didn't know," we all muttered in various tones and phrases. 

"But I told you to stop and you didn't."

I could suddenly remember a soft plaintive plea, muttered practically under her breath, more than once.  "Don't," she'd said, almost impossible to hear over our laughter.  And utterly ignored. 

"And I've locked the door and you can't come in.  So there!"

The window slammed shut and she was gone.

We waited a few minutes, chagrined, faintly embarrassed expressions on our faces, trying desperately not to laugh.  Finally we did, shaking our heads over the extreme sensitivity and unpredictability of teenagers. 

Thirty minutes later we had stopped laughing.  Too hot to remain in the tub, we were sitting on the edge of it starting to get really cold.  We tried knocking on the door; she really had locked us out!  Nothing.  We tried shouting.  Nothing.  Her mother tried sounding really mad (which got less and less difficult as time went on).  Still absolutely nothing.
Finally the window opened.

 "Do you have anything to say for yourselves?"

We looked at each other, groped around for the right answer, and in unison, through chattering teeth, apologized. The window slammed shut once more.  But a minute later, much to our relief, the patio door swung open. We rushed in past her, wriggled into dry clothes, and plugged in the kettle for tea.

My friend started to admonish her daughter for going too far.  Her answer was as follows:

"You always tell me I have to pay attention to you when you say 'no'.  It's a big deal, right?  I have to respect what you say and listen to what you teach me.  And when I don't you send me to my room to 'think about' it, or you don't let me go out.  Well, you didn't pay attention to me.  You didn't respect my 'no'.  So I just decided not to let you in."

What could we say? Out of the mouths of babes, eh?

Take care, all.

Darylynn Starr Rank (psychologist/writer) works part-time for Family Services of Greater Vancouver as a group facilitator. Her articles appear bi-weekly in The Record (New Westminster) and the Richmond Review.

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