Updated: July 29, 2023
Originally Published: October 7, 2015
Is there something that happens to 12-year-old boys when they transition to middle school? It feels like they lose their minds entirely. I’m on the verge of losing mine! My sweet firstborn has somehow managed to misplace hundreds of dollars’ worth of belongings in just two days.
First, it was his shiny new water bottle—the high-end insulated one we had picked for its durability. But it turns out that durability doesn’t matter when it goes missing within the first 24 hours. Two days later, he forgot to grab the bag containing his school uniform and sneakers after cross-country practice.
So, there goes hundreds of dollars, just like that! The most frustrating part? He seems completely unfazed. I had a full half-hour drive home in rush hour to vent my frustrations.
“You’re right,” he shot back. “I don’t care.”
“Well, you should!” I exclaimed, launching into yet another lecture about responsibility and taking care of your things.
“Oh, like you’re so perfect,” he countered. “You probably lost stuff all the time when you were a kid. No one’s perfect.”
“You’re right; I’m not perfect. But I did care for my belongings and took my schoolwork seriously. If I had lost a brand-new water bottle and my clothes, I would have been devastated. I would have worried about how to break the news to my parents. I would have cried over it and felt guilty for days. I would have expected punishment for my carelessness, and if they reassured me it was just an accident, I would have begged for a consequence because I believed that those who lose things should face the music.”
The truth is, the anxieties I experienced were self-imposed. My parents never demanded perfection and never punished me for falling short of any unrealistic standards.
I don’t want my sons to mirror my anxiety-ridden childhood. Living in constant fear of making mistakes is not a healthy way to navigate life. There must be a balance between being overly anxious about every small error and being completely indifferent. “I’m not perfect,” I reiterated. “No one is. Just try to pay attention, okay?”
Eventually, my son will either find his missing items or use the money he earned doing chores for our neighbors to replace them. We’re both learning valuable lessons: he’s learning about responsibility, while I’m discovering the limits of his accountability. I’m realizing that having a child who isn’t a carbon copy of me can be a blessing. I’m also learning to offer my kids the grace and forgiveness that I often withhold from myself. And maybe next time, I won’t splurge on an expensive water bottle for a seventh-grader when the Dollar Spot version would suffice.
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In summary, while navigating the challenges of parenting a middle schooler can be overwhelming, it’s also an opportunity for growth—for both parent and child. Finding a balance between responsibility and understanding is key to fostering a healthy relationship.
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