Just wait.

Your teenagers will make you laugh. Sometimes it will be because they were trying to be funny, and sometimes not. You’ll typically know the difference, which will make it even better.

They’ll introduce you to music you didn’t know existed. You’ll hate some of it, but sometimes, you’ll listen to the playlist they made on your phone even when they’re not around. Sometimes they’ll even surprise you by knowing one of “your” songs.

They’ll impress you with their perceptiveness. They’ll observe things about themselves, and you, your family culture, and the world, that will make you stop and think, or laugh in recognition.

They might share books with you that you wouldn’t have otherwise read. They may tell you something they learned at school that reminds you how much has changed (or how much it hasn’t). They will in turns drag you out of the house and encourage you to practice self care.

They will tell you to stay in the grocery store parking lot while they take your credit card, the list, and the reusable bags and do a shopping run. It may cost a little extra, but you’ll be able to catch up on a podcast or read a book while you wait. Or, you can do a grocery run together, make it a speed drill, divide and conquer – and surprise yourselves with how fast you got in and out of that place.

You’ll be negotiating constantly. There will be back room deals, front room diplomacy, and moments when you have to decide whether or not to show your hand. Sometimes the deals will involve money, sometimes other things, and you’ll get better about making sure you don’t get the short end of the stick.

MOM. They will say. And then they will amaze and annoy you with their wit, energy,  enthusiasm, and sometimes, their breathtaking self-absorption.

They will treat you like you’re stupid. They will pretend THEY are stupid. Amidst the mind games, you know neither of you are stupid. You will get better at trusting your gut. The insanity of it all will make you laugh. Sometimes it will lead you to call their bluff. Sometimes you will leave the situation feeling clever, but sometimes you’ll leave having been reminded you aren’t done learning yet.

Teens will drive you crazy with their crackling energy, with their need for your attention. They’ll hog your emotional bandwidth. They’ll hog your literal bandwidth, too. In that moment when they are using every shred of the WiFi and you’re waiting for a page to load, you may realize you didn’t really need to be on your screen, anyway.

You may play a game where you gradually shout their name louder and louder until it finally cuts through their headphones and they look up. Sometimes you will be mad, but maybe just as often, it will be so ridiculous you end up laughing. And then worrying about your kids’ hearing.

Sometimes they will hide so thoroughly that you won’t realize they aren’t there until you’re about to leave the house, do a head count, and realize they aren’t in the car. Or ready at all.

Teens will force you to decide what your boundaries are. Fail to defend the lines you draw  at your peril. It’s good practice for having healthy boundaries with others in your life, and you’ll get lots of good practice with your teens, because they are admirably persistent.

They will surprise you with their generosity. They will teach you to listen. They will be better at some things than you are – life skills, emotional intelligence, reactivity, and they’ll teach YOU how to be a better person.

The neighborhood teens will call you “Hey, (Kid’s Name) Mom!” Your teen and your teen’s friends will make your house shake with a speaker the size of a dorm fridge in the trunk of the car. You will remember what it was like when you were a teenager and the volume on your life was way up while everyone else was hardly a blip.

Teens will teach you to control yourself when they trigger you. You will teach them how to do it, too. You will come back around and talk about hard things, and admire their bravery. One day you will realize that you didn’t react in a situation that used to set you off like dry tinder. You’ll see similar growth in your kids.

They will teach you how to wait. They will show you the inefficacy of worry. You will not rest some days until late at night or early morning, and you peek in and see a familiar lump under the comforter in your teen’s room. Your worrying will become a little more judicious when you realize how pointless and exhausting it is.

Slowly, before your eyes, in between all the things that teenagers do that make parents say, “Just wait…” those kids will blossom, very slowly, into adults. They will come back around to the idea of letting you hug them. They will “come back.”

Your job is to love them, and try to not to react when they say ridiculous things about what they want to do or be. I know that sounds difficult, but your record will get better over time.

I spent a number of years of my kids’ adolescence being pretty sure I wasn’t cut out to be a mom of teens, but it grew on me. You’ll never have it completely figured out, but kids (eventually) respect parents who keep showing up, parents who care, who don’t judge (too much).

Teenagers have so much to offer. Just wait.

On my way to work last night, I was at an intersection, about to drive forward as the light turned green. Suddenly, my son and a friend went flying by in front of me on motorized bikes, running their red light. As he rode past, my son turned, gave me a huge smile, and waved. Did he know it was me before he was right in front of me? I don’t know. In spite of the spike of worry I felt, his joy was infectious. But I didn’t fully exhale till the next morning when I saw him safely home in his bed.

This morning, my fourteen year old daughter was starting a load of laundry when I arrived home after my night shift. Knowing that I prefer to take my scrubs off and put them in the washing machine the second I get in the door after work, she removed some items in her load to make room without being asked. As I stripped off the scrubs, balancing awkwardly next to the washing machine, she softly sang, “I don’t want no scrubs…”

These moments inspired this post.