<p>Not everyone follows the pattern described here. I was an agreeable, compliant teenager whose present sullen, obstreperous personality blossomed relatively late in life.</p>
<p>First, hang in there, drb. Try not to even joke about writing her off. My funny, charming, smart, kind D has a mercurial personality–it’s just how she was born, it got worse during “those” years, but now at 23, she’s a wonderful person to be around, 95% of the time. And she’s better at apologizing the rest of the time.</p>
<p>SBmom–your D’s personality may have nothing to do with her history. Some kids are just like tht. My S is Mr. EAsygoing too–he really, really hates conflict. He’s just extremely sweetnatured in general.</p>
<p>Both kids are like some members of their two families. There’s a strong temperamental streak on both sides, and a minority easy-going strand on both sides. I think you just have to work with what you have and not what you wish they would be.</p>
<p>I’m a second child and the easy one. My older brother was far more troublesome. My parents and I are very close and get along very nicely. We “get” each other. My brother, now 20, seems to be significantly more reasonable than before.</p>
<p>Just yesterday, I commented to my 17 yr old son that I hear a lot of good things about him from several different sources, such as his golf coach and the people he works with and parents of his friends. I told him that I know that somewhere inside him is a really neat kid…and that I can’t wait for the day that I finally get to see him! He was not amused.</p>
<p>Just keep repeating: it’s the age, not the kid, it’s the age, not the kid.</p>
<p>Thanks garland. Maybe your S and my D are just plain easy & nice. :)</p>
<p>“it’s the age, not the kid, it’s the age, not the kid. Ommmmmm…”</p>
<p>And as an alternate mantra:
“I am the parent. YOU are the child. Ommmmm…”</p>
<p>I like her, I really, really like her!.. Ommmmmm</p>
<p>This too shall pass, this too shall pass…ommmmmm</p>
<p>This too shall pass</p>
<p>That was my father’s most frequent refain.</p>
<p>My mother used to invoke what I call the parent’s curse: “I hope you have children just like you.”</p>
<p>Hee Hee, dmd77. My mother said the same exact thing and now she is laughing at me from heaven.</p>
<p>I have two teenagers now. It’s been one of the toughest time in my life. One of the earlier posts challenged the OP with the question: is it because you think you’ve failed as a parent?</p>
<p>I thought my H and I did everything right. We raised two Eagle Scouts in a house full of laughter and games.</p>
<p>Now, it’s dead silence. At the dinner table (yes, we do eat together), in the car (headphones are on at all times), after school and after work, it’s the four of us going in four different directions.</p>
<p>I do wonder what I did wrong to deserve this. I don’t see us ever being close - they make me feel like I’m prying with every question. Maybe it’s a boy thing.</p>
<p>It’s great to hear from the kids on this post - keep it up! It’s making me feel better!!!</p>
<p>
It’s a boy thing.
… ommmmmm</p>
<p>I did have a child just like me. Met and exceeded all performance parameters, managed to torture my mother through sheer largeness of personality and some nagging sense that things could be better that I have never shaken.</p>
<p>So this too may never pass:). And all kinds of bromides about circles of life and what goes around coming around etc…</p>
<p>JM Parent - the one I’m talking about is a D. I think what you are going through is a boy thing. Search Sinner’s Alley for the word grunt, I think it’s there that we had a long discussion about how much our boys morph at 15. Morph and pretty much cease to speak.</p>
<p>Girls generally do not cease to speak.</p>
<p>
Truer words were never spoken.</p>
<p>JMParent - Seriously, I think it’s partly a boy thing and - in my case - my mother getting her wish that I would “someday have children just like me.” 
</p>
<p>I distinctly remember my refusal to answer even the simplest, most innocuous question my mother might ask. My thought process went something like “Well, I could answer that question; no problem. But then, she might have a follow-up question. Then, there could be a follow-up to the follow-up. Pretty soon, she’ll be asking a question that I don’t want to answer!” And this from a girl who had nary a thing to hide. </p>
<p>So I <em>get</em> where my S is coming from. To him, protecting his privacy is a critical dimension in separating from me into an adult. It’s painful, though. But, it’s a boy thing and a teen-growing-into-adulthood thing. I believe it will pass. I believe it will pass. I believe it will pass… ommmmm</p>
<p>Boys are warier of authority. Thus, so called ‘innocuous’ questions are reviewed for ulterior motive–often correctly. </p>
<p>Atmosphere can loosen a boy’s tongue. If I had two that didn’t talk, I might resort to alcohol, but mine do talk and a sumptuous three course meal with a tablecloth and candles does the trick–at my dinner table or in a restaurant. Certain topics have been banned over the years. Bill Gates is banned as a dinner table topic at our house. I have a friend who discouraged Succulents as a topic of conversation. Her oldest son was obsessed by succulents from age 7 to 11.</p>
<p>Another atmosphere that works quite well is the Come to Jesus meetings we have following serious infractions.</p>
<p>I told my mother all kinds of things–that my friends were doing. She never made the leap, surprisingly. She probably didn’t want to believe I would get up to such nonsense.</p>
<p>
Room service at a nice hotel works for our boys.</p>
<p>Had a good laugh reading this thread. Several times I though you guys were describing MY GIRLS. Other times I though you had been in my home (or in my mind) and were describing MY THOUGHTS and BEHAVIOR. I have two girls: soon to be 16, and 14. And yes we have one with second child syndrome. </p>
<p>I definately try to pick my battles, and let the small stuff go. Clothing choices, and hair styles left my radar screen years ago with my youngest. I cannot believe that I didn’t even react when she took scissors to her own hair several times this year. The layered-look looked really bad. But too many other issues. She really needs to be on the debate team this fall as a freshman. She can argue her point until I give up. So now I just don’t “engage” her in a debate. At least we didn’t have to spend time with my mother during the “layered hair” phase. And I am thankful that it has never been purple or pink. I even gave up commenting on how many times she rolls up her Sofie’s (cheer/sport shorts for those of you with boys.) </p>
<p>Things really came to “blows” recently–all verbal. She screamed that she was 14 and I needed to let her live her own life, let her have full computer access with no parental controls on the time she spends online, let her hang out with friends and not have to report who and where and when, let her hang out in the neigborhood long after dark, and let her have her friends that are boys hang out in her room. “My God mom, when are you going to let go and let me grow up, I am 14 YEARS OLD.” She is a good kid, but needs limits, yet pushes those limits. She is my risk taker, and she scares me a little.And 6 more years will age this “already older than most” Mom at least 20 years. </p>
<p>She is sharp, grasps the concepts she needs in the first 10 minutes of class, then socializes with friends for the rest of the period, writes notes, daydreams. She knows just how much she has to do to squeak by and get a 90. (I mean 90 or 100, they are both A’s mom.) Sometimes she doesn’t bother, and then says my expectations of her are too high, as her friends’ moms only expect B’s. </p>
<p>THis too shall pass, right?</p>
<p>SunnyFlorida,</p>
<p>Your post sounds like a storyline for a great sitcom.</p>