Tween. What a dumb word. At least, I thought so until my son moved into the "tween" stage. We've been riding an hormonal roller coaster ever since.
At my age, it's hard to remember the feelings and thoughts I had as a 'tween.' Of course, when I was 11 and 12, the word hadn't been invented yet. As our world has evolved, it is seems logical to name this foyer into the teen years. It also seems logical to give parents of tweens free Valium to handle these rougher waters of parenting.
Today, for example, my son made mini-muffins for us. It was a sweet gesture, and the muffins were wonderful. However, when he wanted his father to eat one and his father wouldn't--because he was in the middle of something--our son got really upset and started yelling. Yesterday, I went into the basement, supposedly to exercise, to escape from my son's hormones. They were raging until he fell asleep on the couch.
I'm trying to help him find words to identify what's going on with him; I think he'll be a better communicator later in his life if he can identify and explain his thoughts and feelings. I have to be careful, however; sons are at such a confusing time with their mothers, especially at 11. They don't want to be babied or 'mama's boy,' but they need to know their mothers are there for them. They want to explore what it means to be a man with their fathers or other adult males, which often means they avoid their mothers. I feel like I'm walking a tightrope as I deal with my son.
I know he wants to be independent but is still dependent on me. I try to give him his space and be patient, but there are days where my patience wears thin. Like all his other stages, I know this stage will not last forever. It will last, though, until he's finished with high school, and right now, that seems like a long time away!
