Strepito, Ergo Sum

Lately, I've been thinking I am losing it, but I suspect my husband is having it worse. 

So far, Lady Perimenopause has been somewhat easy on me and has not brought about anything unexpected. Hot flushes, anger, casual dizziness - bring it on. 

However, I am not sure what my husband is suffering from (sympathy pains, maybe), but he has been ranting constantly. If there is a lull in the conversation or some quiet time at home - not good. Not good at all. It's the same as when your toddler goes quiet - the outcome is never a good one. 

When it's quiet, my husband is usually up to something that is fueling a forthcoming verbal eruption - working out of hours, looking at house prices or reading the news. Uh-oh. I know its coming.

I much prefer it when he is actually ranting - though even my (non-existent) patience has its limits. Like, a few days ago, we were passing a billboard at a bus stop. It was showing a man eating a sandwich - advertising the ham. One glance and my husband was off: who puts so much ham in a sandwich??? Are they mad? This is unrealistic and no ham would be left after just a couple of sandwiches... and so on. You get the gist. 

Deep sigh.

Generational Mexican Standoff

If they say it's easy - they are lying. And if they say it's because you had kids later - that's poppycock.

I am talking about the mother (and possibly the father as well) slipping into perimenopause and the progeny waltzing into teenagedom (a.k.a. blasted puberty).

One starts a tantrum (or gets into a funk, or goes silent) and the other one does exactly the same, possibly on a different scale. It's like looking into a mirror, albeit at a reflection of a younger self that is not sure what is happening and that can't find their butt with both hands. 

Sure, I know I need to be the bigger person and reign it in, but the hormones are simmering just beneath the surface, pushing my limits. And so is the mirror image: pushing my buttons. 

Oh, well. I am only hoping we meet on the other side a bit ruffled, but generally unscathed. Yep. Hoping.

Let's Talk Eloquence

People (I mean older geezers) say these days the younger generation is more illiterate, compared to those who were in school before mobile phones, social media, streaming, AI, etc. You get the gist. 

And they are not bragging about it (some of them, anyway), it was just that if you wanted to beat boredom in the olden days you most probably reached for a book. And people's vocabulary was richer, they could generally converse without their every other word being 'like', or 'ummm', or 'thing'. 

With the intro now out of the way, I want to pat us (hubby and me) on the shoulder and smugly say that we have done well with our progeny and their vocabulary. 

Even at 2 a.m., after suffering through (in their words) an unlucky bout of 'dark thoughts', our lovely teenager had the strength of mind and superior vocabulary to wake us up and explain to us she is feeling 'existential dread'. Well, now.

Truly commendable, that. And a bit scary. Being so eloquent at 2 a.m... what exactly are we raising here?

The Elusive Teenager

(Read in the voice of David Attenborough):

For almost 3 months every year, the elusive teenager is difficult to spot. They are experts at burrowing under their bedsheets, blending in with their surroundings and pretending not to hear anything. As to what they really do under there remains a mystery, though giggling can sometimes be heard.

When faced with a request from a superior species (also known as the cleaner / feeder / provider of phone time), the elusive teenager suddenly becomes snappy, stand-offish and aloof. However, faced with someone higher in the food chain, their demeanor undergoes slight change and with a lot of peculiar noises (mostly huffing, puffing, mumbling under their nose and in more extreme cases - grunting) they leave the safety of their bed.

One can tell they are out of their comfort zone by the slouch of their shoulders and the shuffling of their feet. Finishing the task specified by the superior species usually takes longer than needed, is always accompanied by low guttural sounds and sometimes also by a slammed door or two. 

Their behavior, however, undergoes a drastic change when the elusive teenager wants something from the superior species. Their voice pitch changes, becoming a lulling purr and their body language shows they are now open to a short hug or a peck on the cheek. 

In conclusion, it must be mentioned that this behavior of the elusive teenager is definitely not uncommon during that specific time of the year. It is seen in almost all members of the species, to the constant annoyance and exasperation of the superior species. 

Damn summer holidays.

The Cancellation Catch

I recently went to a talk in my kid's school led by a lovely child psychologist. 

Among the many truths he said was a gem that stood out for me. He said: 'In today's society, where kids are more isolated thanks to technology (much due to social media) and communication skills among young people are rapidly disappearing, it is very important not to show how happy you are when a meeting with your friends get cancelled.'

Because let's be honest here: when you get to a certain age, it gets harder to garb on your best and strut out of the house with a smile of anticipation on your face for some wining and dining with friends. You (OK, OK - me!) become that bit antisocial and prefer to be in bed / on the sofa / in front of the laptop by 9 pm in your comfiest (and probably tattiest) clothes. 

My point - don't celebrate cancelled outings with friends in front of your kids, because that might give them the idea that meeting friends might not be all that. And they don't need to know the truth yet. Let them slide into middle age as innocently as possible. The expert said it. 

A 'Plus One'

Lately, a new member of the family has quietly joined our ranks. It was not sudden, they made their way unnoticeably into our tight group - so much so, that one day we woke up and we were 'plus one'.

Regrettably, they are French. And as luck would have it, we got an opinionated, snooty and pushy one. They don't know when to can it, how to encourage properly and basically, they don't care much. I am not gonna lie: it has been challenging at times. There are times when you want to talk back and explain yourself, but it all falls on deaf ears. 

But here's the thing: my husband looks more svelte, I got top marks for my protein dessert, and the kids couldn't be less bothered. So...

Welcome, Claude. 

P.S. Oh, yeah - and they can't draw to save their life. I asked for a very dramatic koala. But I think I got a koala on a rollercoaster, whose eyes have fallen out...

And there you go.

Ugh. It has happened.

I expected it and dreaded it.

My teenager is now officially cringing when I try to touch them. And, oh my God, the stink eye I get when I try to kiss them! And let's not forget the little puff of disdain I also get as a bonus, meaning 'Jeez, Mother, not that again!'.

I have now officially joined the ranks of the millions and millions of other mothers shunned by their budding teenagers. 

However, I shall not despair. I shall quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) wait on the other side for my offspring to emerge out of the hormone fog to give me a kiss and a hug that I didn't have to negotiate / fight for / steal. 

Let the countdown begin!