Who Are You? Ooh Ohh, I Really Want To Know!

Not many people have fond memories of their time in middle school (or junior high if you're more my age!) I certainly don't love my memories of that time. Life was stressful. I had god-awful braces, my hair didn't curl/flip right most of the time (despite long periods of time in the bathroom with a curling iron), and I was unhappy with almost everything that my parents said to me. Let's not even talk about grades.


So, it is especially difficult to watch my oldest child struggle through the middle school rite of passage that we call adolescence. The great being, in whom we place our trust that everything will turn out ok, continues to provide us hints of the wonderful being that Patrick will be, while teasing us with glimpses of the young, charming boy that he was. What has become interesting is observing how easy it is to return to the insecure, young adolescent that I thought I had banished years and years ago.

Patrick has been struggling academically, not because he is not smart, but because he is testing the boundries of what he must do to be successful. For the first couple quarters of seventh grade we allowed Patrick to "handle" things like homework, when and where it got done, and how it was turned in. After the "not-to-his-potential" second quarter (similar to the first), Mom and Dad got a little more hands on. After all, both of us have quite a bit of experience in middle school, it would be appropriate to apply it to our child who obviously needs the support.

Here is where my former middle school self interferes. In having discussions with Patrick about being successful, working hard, doing your homework, taking advantages of doors that open in your direction - I found myself kind of tongue-tied and teary. I was right back in the hot seat explaining to my dad why I hadn't done my homework, struggling to find words other than, "I don't know," and "I didn't know!" And - warning: danger zone is being breached - I found myself really getting defensive to my husband...like I hadn't done my job as teacher/mom well enough and now we were experiencing the consequences.

I realize, having written that, that there are a lot of little issues wrapped up in that sentence. But the point for this post is that the middle school child we each once was - stays wrapped up inside - and reappears at some reminder of our most challenging times. Watching Patrick struggle to explain was heartwrenching. However, he is incredibly stronger than I. The next morning on the way to work and school he said, "Mom, thanks for listening last night. Is there any way that you could check my homework every night, just to help keep me honest?" Wow, my grown up person admires this middle school one.