Pebbles and Ripples

"Can we all just calm down here a minute please....?"

These were the fateful words uttered, with full patronising accompaniment of palms outstretched, patting the air in front of her as if guiding in a Hawker Harrier on an aircraft carrier, by my 15 year old daughter, in response to me raising my voice, at the third time of asking her to look for her mobile phone charger as she had no alarm and the cockerel we'd hired to wake her at the crack of dawn, was slowly losing the ability to crow as it was being intoxicated by her brother's trainer whiff.

I almost choked on my Prozac.

These words did something to me. I found it hilarious, infuriating, saddening, shaming and condescending - all at the same time, in a micro-second. I looked at her, unable to speak. The old chestnut; 'I would never have spoken to my mom in that way...' rang through my head. Although that kind of confidence to express herself is great, I'm beginning to feel like living with teenagers who are not afraid to speak their mind is not good for a parent's self-esteem. Their free expression can come at the expense of feeling good as a parent especially when the children are acting like 'critical parents' and are questioning how you are and what you do. In fact, sometimes it's like being a kid again.

My son is prone to hurling insults freely and the usual howls of 'you don't understand me...', 'You're bad parents...', 'Leave me alone...' and 'I'm ringing Social Services if you don't give me my Playstation' have slowly, mainly due to their repetition and therefore induced compassion fatigue, lost their impact on me. I suppose in the same way as my 'nagging' him to 'cut his nails' has less impact than donning an Edward Scissorhands outfit and, while he rem sleeps at 3 a.m in the morning, sticking a pointed finger up his nostril and bellowing menacingly 'CUT YOUR NAILS'....

However, when I am on the receiving end of my adolescent daughter's wrath and/or condescencion (the latter being worse), it's like a blow below the belt.
'Calm down'??
'Calm down'????
This from the girl who could wind up The Dalai Lama - in fact I'd pay good money to see them in a 'head to head', with my darling daughter jumping up and down, flapping her arms and screaming hysterically while his holiness calmly reassures her that when her brother 'does the finger' at her, it is merely a reflection of his 'inner turmoil' and not a 'let's wind up my sister 'cos it's fun watching her whirl like a Dervish' move. It's like throwing a pebble in a pond - his 'finger', in this case, is the pebble, her reactions are the ripples. As his holiness asks her sagely if she really wants to be a 'ripple', I can see her now - scrunching up her face, shrugging her shoulders, raising her hands questioningly and glaring at me; 'Ripple?? What is he on about??' Buddhist metaphor is lost on the disaffected...
The trouble is teenagers don't know what it's like to live with them... It's probably similar to living with parents when you're a teenager. Pebbles and ripples. Pebbles and ripples.

"Calm down"?
I'd love to.

Hoisted by my own petard

Homework. Exams. Apparently not as important as re-arranging the furniture in your room and placing your book collection in order of size... Now I know that I am to blame for some of this newly adopted tactic by the son and heir to displace any school-related activity in favour of a more mind-numbing activity.
For 10 years, I have tried with a monumental effort, to get my son to tidy his room. For 10 years, I have also, with an even more monumental effort,tried to get him motivated to do his schoolwork and study.
Now, in a cunning twist of events and with a certain amount of intellectual aplomb, my son has decided to do his homework in his room (ok, he's 15 - we'll go with that) - but first, he has to completely overhaul his room to ensure it's habitability. Unfortunately, this process can take 2 hours - not leaving much time for schoolwork, but leaving an immaculate and ordered room. Now, this new approach towards his pit is, don't get me wrong, refreshing - visitors may use the bathroom and on the way, not mistake his room for a pig breeding centre or an experimental toxin laboratory. When people ask if they can use the bathroom, I glow with pride, I am like the woman from the shampoo ad - I shake my lovely shiney hair in a carefree manner and beam 'Of course, go right ahead, take your time, maybe even 'linger' for a while outside my son's room...'. I fight the urge to give them a camera.
The trouble is he knows I like 'tidy' and 'clean' and that I like his room to be tidy and, because his study time is obviously more important, I am going to have to utter words which I know will stick in my throat;

'Forget your room, come and study.'

Coup de grâce, checkmate, 'hoisted by your own petard', 'stitched up like a kipper' -he will use my words to his advantage for ever more. If only he put as much effort into life skills as he does into out-witting me... His bedroom will once more return to its natural state, while he pretends to work (staring at a school book for 3 hours while really plotting his next move). Once more, when visitors ask to use the bathroom, I'll look plaintively at them and say 'We haven't got one...', it's that or blindfold them while spraying half a can of 'Oust' in front of them as they climb the stairs...