Rebellious Thoughts of a Woman

"Shut up!" says my older daughter to her mother.

"Shut up!" says my younger daughter to her mother.

It's not only that my daughter's or daughters' (English teacher here, there is a difference, and the word selection depends on the day) misbehavior hurts me immeasurably, but it also invalidates a role that I had prided myself on doing well--motherhood. My marriage failed; and regardless of what he did and what I did or did not do, that means that I failed as a wife. But when my daughters are nasty to me (teenage years or not), the wound goes deep. Before they turned their words on me, I could at least say, okay, I failed as a wife, but I am a devoted mother who is raising respectful, intelligent, honest, creative, caring daughters, so I must not be such a bad person. But now even that security of self has been taken away from me. How can I honestly say that I am a good mother--at this stage in their development, even if they're supposed to rebel against me--if it I don't see evidence of a job well done? How is their yelling at me evidence of myself as paragon of motherhood?

And it's not that they stop themselves when they realize the error of their ways, they say it again. I can yell back, I can walk away, I can demand an apology, I can not let them drive the car, I can not let them go to the movies. But I need them to shudder in horror at how they spoke to their mother, but they don't.

A colleague, who has two children in elementary school, recommended the slap method of discipline. Sure. I'm going to slap my 16-year-old. What would that prove? That I really am a terrible mother, and not only have I not instructed my daughters well in how to behave but I can't control my own emotions.

Perhaps I misinterpret their apologies. Coming to me a half hour after a blow-up to talk about what she did that day in school might be my younger daughter's way of apologizing. And looking me in the eye and saying that dinner was good might be my older daughter's way of apologizing. Or am I just so desperate to find that they are good girls and I am a good mother, that that is how I need to construe things?

I remain relentless in my "don't talk to me like that" response because I cannot lose my perception of myself as a good mother. And if I gave up on them, I could never regain that title. And if I slapped them, I could never ask for it back. I guess if I keep doing what I think is right, they will eventually come around, or, at least, they should respect me for stubbornly adhering to a way of being and behaving that I think is right, and not give in to their teen tantrums.

I am mother, I am strong! Now SHUT UP and listen to me!