I think one of the strangest realizations to come to as I edge closer to parenting a teen is that some things never change.

My kids will get home from school, drop their stuff in the mudroom, beeline to the snacks, and grab their iPads (to talk to their friends…whom they’ve seen all damn day). I’ll try to ask how their day was and if anything interesting happened. “Fine” and “Not really” are usually the answers. And then it’s me, standing there like a dork waiting for someone to continue the conversation.

I’m finding out that no matter how intentional I am about communicating with my kids and how much and how often I tell them that they can tell me a-n-y-t-h-i-n-g, sometimes they just…won’t.

And that’s fine. My head knows that’s fine.

But I’m also trying to manage a fun feature of my brand of ADHD called “rejection sensitivity dysphoria” where I’m convinced either a) everyone hates me or b) everyone is keeping a secret from me and I don’t know why. I have to walk the fine line of pushing my kids for information, but not pushing too hard lest I become overbearing and annoying. It’ll be years until I’m “friends” with my kids. Right now, I’m here to guide and protect them where and when I can. They have plenty of friends, so that’s not a role I’m interested in filling (nor is the position available).

I know I’m cringe as fuck sometimes (my kids regularly tell me) and I willingly lean into that vibe. I’m fine with it.

So it seems that this is just teens and tweens…hardwired to give one word answers or grunts and will think their parents are cringe and embarassing.

The thing I’m hoping will change is that my kids will never be afraid of coming to me with problems or issues or just silly things that happen to them. I want to be their safe space, their sounding board, their padded room, their biggest cheerleader, and their favorite teacher.

So I’m definitely changing.

But I was once the same teen they’re going to be, it seems.