I love my kids LESS now they are teenagers – I’m tired of the way they treat me and they push me to breaking point daily
FROM eye rolls to the silent treatment, navigating kids’ teenage years can be hell for parents. But would you confess to loving them less than you once did?
Mum-of-three Clare O’Reilly, 45, who is married to writer Jon, 53, and lives in Plymouth is conflicted…
WHEN my 14-year-old daughter, Annie, told me last week that I gave her the “ick”, I rightly guessed it wasn’t a compliment.
Closing her bedroom door, I reached for my phone and Googled the definition: “Causing someone to suddenly feel a strong sense of disgust or repulsion towards you, often due to a specific behaviour or trait.” Ouch.
The action that had triggered such indignation? Asking if she wanted to join me and our three dogs for a walk.
While I should have just got the fresh air and calm I very much needed, I flung open her door and reminded her she once loved me so much she’d follow me to the toilet.
She barely looked up from her phone, but I definitely spotted an eye roll as I closed her door and headed out into the elements with my dogs Huck, Bluebell and Luna, who still love me unconditionally.
Despite the combined 68 hours I spent in labour, becoming a mother was the best thing I ever did – until now.
I miss the days of my kids’ unwavering love, but more than that, I miss when they were easy to love.
That golden era of cuddles and dreamy-eyed looks as they fell asleep in my arms – now replaced by sassiness, eye rolls and sarcastic comments.
Multiple studies have found the hardest age to parent is 15 years old and with a child on either side of that magic number, I wholly agree.
I know from friends I’m not alone, either.
Our teenagers seem to push us to breaking point almost daily, which makes it hard to love them like I did when they were easier and adored me – rather than cringing at my very presence.
Put simply, I honestly wonder whether I love them as much in their teen incarnations as I did when their little hands fitted into mine and I was the centre of their universe.
Annie insists on being dropped at least a hundred metres from where she’s meeting her friends, while my middle son, Sammy, 16, informed me last week that the Instagram reels I send him are “cringe” and can I stop in case someone on the school bus sees them.
Lego kisses
This from the boy who – at four years old – made me a whole box of Lego kisses because I was his favourite thing in the world.
I tell myself I am their boxing ring. They can push on the ropes of me as much as they want because they know I’ll love them no matter what.
But deep down I’d be lying if I said my love for them hasn’t changed since they were tiny.
While I’m undeniably proud of them, I long for the days where we bonded with cuddles, raspberries blown on little fat bellies and shared jelly and ice cream.
My love for them was limitless until I started annoying them
Clare O’Reilly
My infinite patience taught them to ride bikes, tie their shoelaces, say their pleases and thank yous. No parenting task was too much.
My love for them was limitless until I started annoying them – despite my behaviour not changing at all.
My eldest son Eddie, now 21, was the same as his younger siblings during his teenage years and it turns out I’m not alone in feeling like I was scraped off my progeny’s shoes at times.
Even J.Lo has teenage kids that ignore her.
The star, 55, admitted last month that her “heart hurts” over the fact that her twins Max and Emme, 16, want little to do with her.
How I empathise with her.
By the age of 12, Annie had gone from wanting to hang out with me to telling me I wanted too many hugs and was embarrassing her when her friends came over.
I started feeling like she was the cool girl at school and that I was my goofy, nerdy teen self again. I’d pluck up the courage to knock on her bedroom door to see if she wanted to watch a movie on a Friday night, nervously stumbling over my words.
I’d then feel dejected when she said she was busy.
I love all three of my kids equally, but I find myself feeling increasingly sick and tired of the way they treat me.
It is impossible to love them as unconditionally as I did when they were tiny.
However, child psychologist Catherine Hallissey says the teen years are a much-needed developmental phase – and one I shouldn’t be too hard on.
“As a parent, these years are simply about navigating the changing relationship,” she explains.
“Their developmental task is to individuate from their family, to begin to discover who they really are, separate from you. They’re biologically driven to push away because it prepares them for leaving the nest.
“If you take their comments and eye rolls at face value, it will really negatively impact your relationship.”
Shouldn’t I love them unconditionally, regardless of how they treat me? Parental love surely shouldn’t rely on reciprocation?
I hate feeling so negative towards the human beings I birthed and it’s hard not to berate myself for feeling like I do.
Was my parenting love for them only based on their unconditional love for me? Did I only love them when they were little because they thought the sun rose and set with me?
Shouldn’t I love them unconditionally, regardless of how they treat me? Parental love surely shouldn’t rely on reciprocation?
These are the questions I ask myself repetitively as I try to walk the line between loving them, but liking them less than I ever have.
Catherine says: “What’s really important is that we give feedback constructively.
“So, if you are coming from a place of hurt, your feedback is likely to be more emotional, whereas if you’re coming from a steady, sturdy place, you’ll see that this is a phase.
“You can say things like: ‘Did you mean to come across that way? Can you think of another way to say it?’
“That’s one bit of corrective feedback. Or: ‘Is this something you want me to stop doing? Let me know.’
“The relationship is on us as parents, though. It’s not up to a child to work for a parent’s relationship. Give feedback in a way that’s both firm and kind together.”
I’ve got eight more years combined of Annie and Sammy both being teenagers before they emerge into adulthood like my eldest, Eddie, did.
He and I are close now and he lets me hug him again, after rejecting me when he was his siblings’ age. We cook together and play cards and watch movies and it’s the hope they’ll return to me that gives me faith I won’t always feel like this about them.
I’ll have parented teenagers for 18 years by the time Annie turns 20 in 2031. The years of them being limpets will have long passed. I’ll have back the personal space I yearned for when they sat watching me on the toilet.
While I really don’t like them much right now, I’ll hold onto the thought that the love we share runs underneath the rude and snarky comments that float on the surface.
And I’ll cling to the thought that, one day, I won’t give them the “ick”.