7th grade: Missteps, mistakes, and grace

Monkeymoo survived 6th grade.

I'd say "And she has the picture to prove it" but I don't even know what this is.

It wasn't easy. There was a lot going on, which Monkeymoo can one day share, or not. It's hers, not mine to disclose. But I wanted to take a moment to update my Middle School Mania post from a year ago.

I want to start by saying that post might not have been fair. I can't help but feel that I might not have been fair and here's why: In addition to being these amazing, wonderful, surprising, snarky, and occasionally growling people, our tweens are still kids.

And as such, they can and do behave like kids, poking into areas they might not when they grow into better judgment and behaving in ways that aren't necessarily the greatest. As much as we might think our kids couldn't or wouldn't do such things, they can. And will. Because being a complete and fully realized human requires screwing up. It just does.

A friend told me last year that they have to be allowed to make mistakes. She's right. Even big ones. Even mistakes that are ouchy for those around them. Because those mistakes add up in the experience column to create cool people.

I hope that my daughter won't make mistakes that hurt others. But if she does, I wish for two things: That she has the ability to say I'm sorry and that those around her have the grace to embrace her accidents and apologies.

Seventh grade is better, so far. Monkeymoo and the friend she had so many troubles with are back together again, and in the meantime, she expanded her friend circle and became a little more social. Last year was tough - painful even.

But there will be a lot of years like that and each time, as it always does, it will get better.

And so it is #internetbreak(nah) #sunshineandagoodbook

Nine months since my last post. I'd like to say it's been nine months of creative writing and creation and parenting and all the good things in the universe. But if we're being honest here (and we usually are), it's probably been nine months of Candy Crush and Facebook and that should make you as sad as it should make me. I'm thinking on it - and blogging, and professional blogging, and creative writing.

It's NaNoWriMo. Several years ago, I wrote my heart out for NaNoWriMo. This year, I'll be lucky to cough out a few blog posts here and there. But I will try, I promise.

In the meantime, I wanted to share something. It's worth the read - so much so, in fact, that I'm breaking my hiatus to ask you to read it. And I'm not writing anything else at this moment. I'll be back soon.

The Guardian: Neil Gaiman

Now please accept this photo of some people who eat up a whole bunch of my time, but who inspire me to return to the library, to reading, to quiet times with a good book, and to anything, dare I say it, but Youtube clips of people playing games or endless Pinterest scrolling. All of us have to get back to something that doesn't scroll.

The Observer Effect and Parenting

The Observer Effect: (From Wikipedia)

1. In science, the term observer effect refers to changes that the act of observation will make on a phenomenon being observed. This is often the result of instruments that, by necessity, alter the state of what they measure in some manner.

I've always been intrigued by the observer effect - the idea that looking at something, measuring something, somehow changes  what is being measured.

And then I had kids and the observer effect took over all sorts of pieces of our lives. Our newborns didn't sleep. And so we wanted sleep and watched their sleep. And the more closely we watched it, the worse it was. This same phenomenon comes time and time and time again. Food. Attitudes. Television consumption. Cleaning.

We plug in and suddenly everything feels like it's going to hell in a handbasket. But we observe, because there's some deep and abiding belief that observing is what makes us good parents.

But what if, sometimes, just sometimes, the observer effect is making everything worse? What if our oversight - of eating, sleeping, homework, and relationships puts added outside stress on our kids when they can least handle it or when they'd benefit most by being ignored.

To be fair, I'm not talking about radical rejection of my kids' lives. I'm talking about a bit of benign neglect - times when looking the other way allows them the frustrations and opportunities for growth.

At the playground, for example. Maybe reading a book or checking my e-mail on my phone isn't so bad, as my 4 year old struggles to climb the rock wall. Maybe making my pre-teen negotiate her own academic relationships with teachers is what's important, rather than checking the gradebook constantly.

Maybe just maybe one of the hardest aspects of parenting is not watching.

Middle school mania

I remember the day I got braces. I was excited to embrace my new life as a metal-mouth. That night, I lay awake in agony with a pain so deep I was sure I was dying. I took ibuprofin and ate soft foods for days.  Monkeymoo had exactly the same experience with her braces - from the excitement to the shocking pain to the middle-of-the-night weeping.

And it hurt me so much more when she did it. There's no way to explain to someone in the middle of such pain that it is transient. Telling them that they will survive and even be better off in the long run is empty when they are a ball of pain and tears. It's even worse when that pain isn't physical - but deeply emotional. There's no over-the-counter anti-emotional-inflammatory medication.

Which brings us to this: Monkeymoo has entered Middle School.

I've long thought that the middle school years were hard for me because I moved in October of my 6th grade year from a small town and a K-6 school to a big city and a 6-8 middle school. I figured most friendships had been long-established and girls had years to learn the proper clothing choices and I was just having a hard time adjusting. I remember being laughed at for reading the newspaper. I remember long quiet hours in the middle school library. I remember girls being awful. I remember making one friend as we complained over 6th grade math. I remember it being hard and confusing and I remember coming home from school, having navigated these complex mean-girl social relationships, and playing with Barbies behind the closed door of my room because I was lonely and sad and I very much wanted to live in the world I lived in before all of this.

It might be true. Maybe. 

So this summer, while Monkeymoo chattered with her best friend about how very excited they were for middle school, I cringed. I didn't want to project or stifle her excitement, but I didn't imagine there was much at all to be excited for in Middle School.

We are now at the Christmas Break of her 6th grade year and I can honestly say it sucks. 

The academics are great. I have no complaints. Her teachers are awesome and responsive and great. The social stuff is. . . not. 

There must be some weird switch that flips in girls between the ages of 11 and 14 that tells them to learn to navigate complex social relationships, but often goes into hyper-drive Mean Girls bullshit. I'm sure if I reviewed the literature, there would be plenty of meaningful explanations that helped me understand why long-time companions chose to end friendships. I'm absolutely positive if I did so, I would also understand why 11 year-olds, probably even my own, fail to do it with grace and their awkwardness is painful. I might even understand how and why social bullying occurs and how children I love and respect engage in deliberate social rejection. 

Or maybe not, because as I learned long ago - my belief that if I just read more I might uncover the weirdly complex nuances of social relationships is exactly what made me a middle school reject. And, of course, none of that reading can make the pain or confusion caused by those events go away, which is why I haven't suggested it to Monkeymoo. I'm completely at a loss to explain any of her experiences to her. 

Without going into details, my girl's experienced a wide gamut of friendship politics since school started. Alliances made, broken, reforged, whatever.  Monkeymoo remains confused by the whole thing. There have been wild mood swings (ah, the sweet intersection of social bullshit and hormones) and chronic stomach and head aches. There have been tears.  Of course girls get to socialize with whomever they choose and middle school appears to be the time they figure this out, but nobody appears to have much grace while doing it. 

And that hurts not only Monkeymoo. That hurts me. 

In one particularly harrowing moment, Monkeymoo screamed at me that she'd lost all of her friends and now she had nobody. I told her I knew how that felt, but in the end she had her family. She had us. We weren't going anywhere. 

And that's true. 

But in the face of Middle School, it doesn't feel like much.

Note: This post has been edited from its original format. It was not my intent to point the finger at individual girls - this is about all of them, including my own, and, even moreso, about myself and how I can help my daughter navigate these times in the best way possible. 

Addendum:
Turns out a quick review of the lit reveals ONE important tactic for helping girls through these weird years: Mentors.
Because I am the reader I am, here is some other interesting reading, if you're dealing with the wild middle school girl years yourself:
From Sugar and Spice to the Mean and Nasties, Barbara Meltz
When little girls start growing up , Barbara Meltz
Understanding Middle School Friendships, PBS
And this book looks good:  BFFs, Frenemies, and Mean Girls: The Drama Years (Whitney Joiner and Haley Kilpatrick)

I know I've been quiet. . .

I will hopefully be less quiet soon.

See, in August, I started that full-time gig I've wanted for so long. I'm not sorry - it's amazing and difficult and all-encompassing. It is exactly what I wanted and completely overwhelming at the same time.

So I've been doing that. I'm also still doing the educational blogging.

This leaves very little actual and real time for things like creative work, essay writing, blogging, or, dare I say it, parenting.

That said, I'm about to go on break - so look for me because I think I have some things to say.

In the meantime, please enjoy this kitten from www.tehcute.com.