I don’t have kids of the age of 13-15. I don’t have kids actually, for now. But I’m already scared of my kids growing into that age at some point.
As much as I don’t like to call myself a writer for some odd reason, I must accept that observing little details and putting them on paper is really my thing. Maybe sharing my thoughts with people who might be able to relate is my thing. So I was doing my usual Saturday morning routine, sitting in the café downstairs of my apartment building and sipping on a latte, reading the newspaper.
I heard the lady at the register. She asked “What I can get for you today?”
“One non-fat vanilla latte and one strawberry and cream shake please” said Alya.
"Name for the order please?"
"Alya"
Alya's kid wandered around in the café looking for something that he could potentially throw on the ground or break. He had the revolt in his behavior. He jumped around disrupting people’s silence including mine. When the disturbance continued for a while I decided to take off my glasses, put the paper down and watch him.
“I don’t want strawberry and cream anymore. I want cookies and cream” the kid said.
“You can’t have cookies and cream anymore sweety. We have already placed the order. I asked you 3 times before ordering it and you said you wanted strawberry and cream” Alya reminded Ivan, her 13 year old son. Not looking at her son, thinking that her ignorance would stop him from making a scene in the café she herself looked a little troubled by her son’s forceful demand.
“But now I want cookies and cream. Ask her to change it. I want the freedom to change my drink whenever I want to.”
“You can have cookies and cream in the evening. Strawberries make a good breakfast in the morning.” Alya said.
“You’re not a good mom at all.You don’t respect my choice. Why do I have to listen to you all the time? I know what’s good for me and what’s bad. ” Ivan screamed and walked out of the café in tears.
The entire café watched while Alya only had a pretentious smile on her face waiting to get the heck out of the café. She took the latte and the strawberry and cream and walked out embarassed.
Who can you really blame when your kids come up with such statements which you know aren’t true nevertheless there isn’t a way to make your child feel secured and comforted? Is it the age or the peers or the environment? Or is it the way you bring up or train your children? But realizing it after such events when the damage is already done, is there a way out of it or is it too late? Should you start doubting yourself as a parent and your inability in bringing up your kid or should you put it on that day and age where your child is in the revolt phase of life? But is it easy to convince yourself that it’s only time that could fix your relation with your kid and you can’t do much about it at the time?
I’m not a parent and I used to think being a parent probably needs lesser work than the pleasure that it gives you in return. I’m not sure of that anymore. I’m not sure if I have the strength in me to face that part of my life where there possibly will come a day when I blame myself for not having the right mother-child relationship with my child. I’m not sure if I want to be the mother my kid doesn’t want to go to. And in the fright to not let that happen I’m not sure if I would land up overdoing my part as a parent and turn out being over protective of my kids.
Anyway, miles to go I thought and snapped out of it. My coffee cup was empty. I walked towards the café register.
The lady at the register asked “What can I get for you today?”
“Strawberry and Cream shake maybe.” It’s better than cookies and cream I thought to myself.