I share your apprehension. I am truly on the brink with my preteen.  She is 12 going on 18 and she can be sweet or really contrary, depending on the second.  Her favorite line is "I don't have to listen to you."  To which I reply that "I don't have to listen to you either when you want-just fill in the blank.

 Joy joy joy!

http://fortyfide.blogspot.com

I'm not even a parent yet - I'm in the process of adopting - and I'm already afraid of the teen years!  I saw a commerical the other day with Miley Cyrus/Hannah Montana, and suddenly realized what I'm going to be up against when it comes to giving my future child healthy role models.  And of course I'm already dreading the day that every adoptive parent tells me will most certainly come - the day my teenager gets so mad at me that he or she yells "you're not my mother!"  I'm already trying to prepare snappy comebacks for that one.

--Liz

I blog about creating a life worth living at:  www.inventingmylife.blogspot.com

...although on my son's 18th birthday, the first thing I said to him was, "Happy birthday, and congratulations! We let you live this long."

My personal theory is that adolescence is part of the natural process of parent/child separation. After a few years of it, both sides are ready for the kids to get out on their own 

I've been through it with a boy, and I've been told they're easier than girls, but I won't swear to it. I'm now living with my 14-year-old stepdaughter, and it's a different set of challenges, but I'm not sure they're more difficult - yet. The truth is, in a lot of ways the teen years are my favorites. When they're feeling and acting civilized, it's great to get a glimpse of the adults they are becoming. It's also nice that they've reached an age when they're able to handle more adult TV shows, since they stay awake later than we do and we can't send them off to bed so we can watch "our" shows anymore.

Florinda

Blogging at The 3 R's: Reading, 'Riting, and Randomness

That was the age that my beautiful, responsible, wonderful daughter walked in to ehr room one night and I have never seen that girl again.  She is almost 22 now and I am still waiting.

 Boys are definately easier.  My son is 18 and although he has his moments it is nothing like what I went through with ehr.

Make sure you have a really good friend that you can't totally tell anything to, not your husband, you really need a third party.

Good luck!

Your problem is that you are already worried about convincing your child that "you rock". You don't need your child to "like you", you just need them to respect you enough to recognize that your judgement is better theirs so that they occassionally listen to you and don't get themselves into heaps of trouble. Once you start trying to ingratiate yourself, it's all over.  And I say this with my fourteen almost fifteen year old daughter reading over my shoulder.  I think she agrees.

Teen daughter writes:

 Though momz has a valid point, i think you are all obsessing way too much. Your introduction to the subject makes you sound jealous and saggy. Teenagers should not be feared, but embraced.  We just want some freedom to make our own mistakes and save the speech about what you know best please. We've seen the abc family specials about irresponsiible teens who get pregnant or hit by a car. Just have some faith in us. By the way, my momma does rock.   

My 3-year-old nephew is in a completely lovey-dovey phase right now. He'll gaze into your eyes and say, "I love you!" and give you a big kiss and a hug. When I was visiting my sister the other day, she told me he'd recently said of his 8-year-old sister, "Shay is so beautiful."

I advised her to remember all this and hold it in her heart for when he's a sullen teenager who won't make eye contact. I hope that doesn't happen, but I'm enjoying all the hugs and kisses now, just in case.

Mostly because I remember how awful I was as a teenager to my parents.  For pretty much no reason.

In some ways I'm glad I have a son...but just thinking about him not liking me or thinking I suck breaks my heart.  All the more reason to cherish the baby/little kid years, right?:) 

Lindsay

www.thinner-greener-richer.blogspot.com

The bridge from childhood to adulthood.  Some teens have a relatively smooth time of it; others have a bumpy ride.

I think you have to be parent and never try to be your kid's best friend.  I think you have to provide guidance (I used "what-ifs" a lot with my kids to discuss things that might come up); I left lots of books around like "Our Bodies, Ourselves" and "What's Happening to my body: Book for Boys," and I prayed a whole lot.

 While I believe in privacy and self-direction, I think it is important to have some events that they are required to participate in with the family.  I also reminded my teens (who are now lovely adults; it took a while to get there) that their room was courtesy of me as was food, electricity, heat, etc., so they needed to expect face-time with me and being totally closed off in a room that I didn't venture into was just not going to be allowed.

Good luck and hard work!

blog.candelariasilva.com

Good and plenty!

I so sympathize.  And yours is only four right now.  Just wait.  We've already had the "It's my body, not yours" showdown and more battles loom on the horizon.  A sense of humor helps a lot -- which you've clearly got -- and the remark of a good friend who said to me, "Hang on until they're adults.  When they are absolutely WONDERFUL."  I cling to this notion;  think I'll weave it into my metta recitation.

Note to Teen Daughter, in comment above:  patience to you.  If we sound "saggy" it's because we are, dear, . . . and far-sighted . . . and perimenopausal. 

I blog about the mendacious Milo (my 7-year old son) at www.lawyermommusings.blogspot.com

Keep the faith.

Dallas Lawyer Mom

I think it's pretty cool Teen Daughter had enough interest in what her mom was doing to read over her shoulder.  Looks like someone's doing something right.

Surrender, Dorothy - When I was your age, we just let them ride in the back window.

Rita Arens is a contributing editor for BlogHer -- Mommy & Family.

Fear of the unknown...my daughter is 6 and what feels like going on 16.  There are days when I glimps her tween/teen years and I think to myself "What am I going to do?"  I can still remember what it was like to be that age and how I felt when my mother would do *fill in the blank* - I read the blogs and laugh because I know I too will face this challenging time head on, much sooner than I would like.  But I also cling to the belief that by being her parent and not her 'friend' we will survive it and be better for it.

 Wishful thinking?

I can honestly say I am a lover of teenagers. The good and the bad of those years. Instead of coming at parenting teens from a combative angle it is best to embrace what they bring to the family. Just like with toddlers no means no means no and a united parent front is key. After that, go with it. I think going with your gut and sticking to it is always the best policy, even when it is not popular.

I think the biggest problem that families with teens face today is that parents fear the technology and the new social culture of this generation. We are the last generation of parents who, with some exceptions, are outsavvied by our kids in this arena. It is not going away, and if we fight it, we fight them. The fight becomes the 'turn that music down' of this generation. We lose the ability to relate.

My baby is only 17 weeks, still in the womb, and already I am dreading the teenage years.  When I was a teen and upset my mother (which I did disconcertingly often), she would scream at me, "I HOPE YOU HAVE A DAUGHTER JUST LIKE YOU!!"  At the time, I thought this would be a phenomenal idea -- I mean, at least I'd understand the kid -- but now, it seems like the most dire curse that could ever have been laid upon me. 

So now, I'm kind of hoping I have a boy.  At least then, I won't know what I'm getting in to! 

I currently have one teenage girl (off at college) left and I have been through the teen years of my older daughter too.  For the most part, I found the teenage years delightful. (It was 10 and 1/2 to 13 or so that drove me a bit crazy.)  I also coach a team of 24 teenagers and find them usually delightful.  They can understand your jokes, give interesting feedback, and think deeply about things that you have forgotten to think about or never noticed.

 Yes, there can be some power struggles.  In general (and your mileage may vary), you can do quite well if you are comfortable with slowly relinquishing control over more and more, if you value a little spunk, if you can control yourself well enough to speak to them respectfully especially when you want to kill them (because actions are better teachers than word), and if you can view yourself as a strict coach even more than a (benevolent?) dictator.

I found it (and find it) very helpful to bite my tongue and say, "How do you plan to deal with that?" rather than "you messed up."  They usually know they messed up.  I am known for asking, "What is the plan?" and "Have you considered?"

 Teenagers are impulsive and need to be taught the habit of thinking their way out of things.  Demonstrating it and coaching it goes a long way.

 Yes, you may find yourself dealing with a doozy of an issue from time to time.  Yes, sometimes as a parent you have to step in and insist.  But if that mode is not your first line of success (and if you have a bit of luck--dealing with teenagers often involves a bit of luck), you should be fine.

 Oh, and an occasional eyeroll is not fatal.  A habit of eyerolls means its time to stand up for yourself as a human being.  We don't treat other people that way.  Home is where is it MOST important to say "please," "thank you," and "I'm sorry."

 And as long as I have my advise hat on---those who are really in control usually can assert it softly. 

Thanks ehenak. I was getting weary of all the teen haters and all that fear.

Hey, we were all teens once. Some of good, some not so. But let's try to stop for a moment and remember those years instead of trying to battle them.