You Belong To Me

I hate that my teenage child's sense of belonging looks like an electronic device. A device that makes or breaks her access to the most fashion-forward trends, her mobile social advice columnist. Yet I want her to have that advantage as much as I abhor it. I have to muster an attentive response when she gives me tutorials on her device savvy, zipping, swiping and flashing through screens and app avenues at the speed of light, careful to react lest she interpret my incredulity as disrespect for her interests. While I have a hard time fathoming how and what commands her highest respect and allegiance courtesy of the interweb's fast and vast culture, this is too easily misconstrued as disrespect for her as a person. I certainly don't want to be trumped by an electronic device in ranking for my teenage daughter's sense of belonging.

When I was her age, my primary ascent to cool social status hinged on whether or not I had call-waiting on the family phone line. Way back before cell phones and even cordless phones, I felt lucky to have a 25-foot long phone cord that afforded those hour-long chats about who-knows-what stretching down the hall, around the corner and up the stairs. My parents (and rightly so) considered call-waiting an unnecessary, frivolous and socially rude expense. I didn't disagree with that, but that constant accessibility and potential of who else might be calling me (or us) was the precise thrill I ached for, same as the mobile phone magnetism enabling Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, YouTube channels and the sea of other social connections functioning simultaneously for my kid and her peers today.

This morning my 9 1/2 year old daughter asked if she could watch a movie as I left for work. I said no, that her priorities included breakfast, preparing for soccer and practicing piano in the following two hours. She accepted that, got out of bed, and within ten minutes was planning a tea party for her stuffed animals - locating them with a charming, "Every one of my animals has a memory that goes with it!" Ah, the sweet and effortless ability to override the lure of screen time with something tangible and nostalgic. I'm not counting on that to last. I count my blessings it went down so smoothly as it is.

There is no escaping the human desire for gratification, acceptance or belonging. We're hardwired to respond to attention from birth to maturity. Middle-schoolers get the brunt of this challenge; while their bodies are cheating them out of childhood, their brains are still in infancy until age 14. When you think about all the sleep teens need to be their most functioning selves, doesn't it remind you a little bit of having a newborn? Sleep, wake, feed, be adored. Repeat. My girl exhibits signs of something quite similar: sleep, wake, feed, Plug In, be adored, adore, belong. Ironically, I hear "Leave me alone, You don't understand anything, You don't know anything about me" more often than I hear anything else. It leaves me wondering if I'd be more attractive as a parent if I had a charging system and a carrying case, something that could be turned on and off at will.

We never did have call-waiting, by the way. I survived....without that driving desire to always be on the cutting edge. And that may be why my daughters are always likely to be schooling me on electronic devices. I have no chance of meeting their standards of innovation. But without a doubt they belong to me, and I accept them for every ounce of confusion about who they are and how they belong in this world.