On Teenage Terms

Wil was being a full-on teenager and I was being a full-on frustrated parent of a teenager.

I had prepared him for this orthodontist appointment for over a week. And he likes the orthodontist. He likes the orthodontic hygienists. He likes picking out new colored bands for his braces.

The issue was not the orthodontist. The issue is transitioning from one thing to the next. It always has been.

Wil’s appointment was at 11:15. We needed to leave at 10:55 at the very latest. I gave him countdowns all morning. We need to leave in 2 hours. We need to leave in one hour. Almost a half hour, let’s start wrapping up what you are doing. At 10:30 I asked him to get his hat and crocs. He replied “Ok, Mom” without resistance or complaint to my reminders. When it was time to go he dug in his barefooted heels into the grey plush carpet.

“Wil, it’s time to go. I gave you plenty of time to prepare. And you like the orthodontist. You get new colored bands today.”

He was watching a show on his iPad. He was comfortable seated on the plush carpet. Why would he want to leave? He knew I couldn’t do anything about it.

Fortunately I had 2 aces in my back pocket.

“If you don’t go to the orthodontist, that means you won’t be able to go bowling with Kristi Campbell (his paraprofessional we all adore) and you won’t be able to go to Special Olympics softball tonight. You’ll just have to stay home and be bored all day.” (I hung on to the last “L” of all for a few seconds.)

Though Wil was comfortable in his current spot, the thought of being bored is very uncomfortable. Adding in the discomfort of missing bowling with Kristi and softball would be powerful motivators. But even with those 2 added aces, I had to play my cards right. The more I talked, the more noise I’d put in his head. So I shut up and let him mull this over.

While Wil pondered and processed, my internal frustration grew. The clock was ticking. He’d refused a previous orthodontist appointment, and they’d been very understanding and not charged us the missed appointment fee. But I didn’t want to take advantage of that. And most importantly, I didn’t want to send Wil the message that he could miss his appointments. I had a fighting chance to send Wil the message I wanted to. I just needed him to get up off the floor first.

Spontaneity isn’t Wil’s friend, unless it’s on his terms.

When Wil was 13 years old, his refusal to move would have been a full stop sign. There would be no reasoning with him. This world moves fast for all of us, and for Wil even faster. He needs time to feel in control of his situation and emotions as we all do. Rarely do we fully achieve this level of control, but all of us need some semblance of this to move forward.

But Wil is not 13 years old anymore; and age is quite relative anyway. I know my son, and he was being more of a teenager asserting his independence than needing extra processing time. After a period of silence to allow Wil to think over his options, I reminded him that he was 16 years old and a Junior in high school. I asked him if 16-year-old Juniors sat on the floor when they didn’t feel like doing something. I asked him if he ever saw his sisters sit on the floor and refuse to go somewhere. No, when you are 16, you do what you need to do.

Wil honors his independence. He’s always trying to catch up to his sisters in age. In the window that they are one year apart, he believes that he’s almost gained on them.

Wil won’t even step foot in the elementary school where I work. He believes that will set him back in age. Even if I have to run into the school for a short while, he waits outside or in the car.

Still seated on the grey carpet, Wil talked to himself. About being 16 years old. About bowling with Kristi. About softball. This was a good sign. I watched as he worked through his emotions.

My tension built with each passing minute. Finally, I burst.

“Wil, enough. You know what you need to do. It is time to go. Get your hat and crocs.”

He pondered this for a minute then looked at me. “Hot chocolate at Biggby ?”

“It’s a deal. Let’s go.”

Once he was in the car we talked it over. About his independence, about honoring his commitments. I’m not sure if he fully wraps his mind around commitments. But it’s time to start talking about it with him. Anything that relates to independence has meaning to him.

I don’t know the level of independence Wil will reach. I don’t know if he will ever stop having stuck moments. But I do know how much he’s grown through the years. I keep growing and navigating it with him.

But I do get frustrated. Yesterday, when Wil was stuck, it wasn’t just yesterday. It was all the yesterdays I’ve been through with him. Some days I have the patience of Job, but yesterday I was done with it. When it’s time to go, I just want to go. I thought, how many years do I have to prepare him for days? How many years do I have to wonder if he will get up and go, or get stuck? It gets really old sometimes. Sometimes, I just don’t wanna, just like Wil just doesn’t wanna.

I suppose I’m a lot like Wil — spontaneity isn’t my friend either, unless it’s on my terms.

(Photo: Wil and Kristi Campbell bowling)