I have a child going into junior high school. Or middle school. In my day, it was junior high and no matter what you call it, it’s still a mixing pot of escalating hormones, poor attitudes and social uncertainty. Basically, it’s a swirling vortex of OMGs and WTFs.
However, after a year of homeschooling, my child is excited to go back and looking forward to just about everything. I love the enthusiasm and I even share it. We got our own private school tour with her awesome guidance counselor and even bumped into one of next year’s teachers. They had an engrossing conversation about Harry Potter, which solidified my child’s assertion that this year is going to be the best ever. We both left the building all aflutter with the prospect of a fresh start. I even texted my husband that I wanted to go back to school, too.
“You are such a nerd.”
Why, thank you. Yes, yes I am. And yet, when I mentioned to my BFF, whose child will also begin junior high next year, that I wanted to go back, she looked at me as if I had just said that global warming is a farce.
“Junior high is horrible. Don’t you remember? It’s a terrible age. Everyone is awkward. Have you looked back at our yearbook recently?”
So I did look back at my yearbook. OMG and WTF? Who let me do that to my hair? When was yellow EVER a good color for me? How were the decisions about my dental care made and were they made by a professional or by my great uncle — who used pliers to care for his teeth?
At this point, I realized two things. One, my kid and her friends are doing pretty well. From what I can tell, these girls may be spared the super regrettable school photos. They look damn good. And two, if I ever want to consider myself in the running for “mother who does not suck,” I better warn her about the perils of junior high.
Her last school experience was 5th grade. It is a kinder, gentler, less caustic child who populates elementary school. Though not perfect, in elementary school, bad behavior is more like a light rain, annoying, but easy to dry off and move on. With junior high, you’re dealing with a furious tornado that can wipe you out and leave you terrified and homeless, for years to come.
I am a person who looks back on my life with rose colored glasses. No matter the situation, I will tell you how much fun I had. Eating disorders? Not so bad! Crippling depression? Hey, at least I looked good in black. But when I look back on 7th and 8th grade, I remember almost nothing. Instead of a rosy view, it’s a fuzzy mashup of poor decisions, bad fashion and acne.
I know all the movies focus on the social perils of high school, but I think they do the tween set a great disservice by ignoring the abyss of junior high. These poor kids spend two years flowing in and out of different social groups while experiencing increased academic pressure and the option/requirement of extra-curricular activities that will show up on their permanent record. Do you remember when community service was either a hugely magnanimous act and/or a punishment? Now, kids can’t graduate high school without hours of service that we parents have to scramble around to find, begging organizations to enslave our kids, for their future good.
All of this goes on while they grow at the fastest rate since toddlerhood, with the added bonus of massive hormonal fluctuations. Boys grow inches overnight and can barely speak a sentence without a voice crack. Girls deal with the joys of “womanhood” and often experiment with makeup, wearing more in those two years then they will likely wear, collectively, the whole rest of their lives. If I could go back and change one thing, it would be the blue eye shadow.
Unfortunately, there’s nothing we can do to spare our kids. They must go through it themselves. From the first fight with a lifelong friend that leaves them shocked and confused to the first time getting cut from a team, we can offer support, a shoulder to cry on and a sympathetic ear. But we can’t take away the pain or disappointment. We can’t wipe away the hurtful words or offer a redo. They have to decide whether to get up, wipe off the dirt and move on, or lie in a pool of their own misery, wallowing in self-pity. But that gets old fast, so be prepared to drag them out. It may get ugly so be sure you have reinforcements; like a supportive spouse, a loving friend, or a tremendous bottle of wine.
Maybe I’ll just have her watch “Mean Girls” and let Hollywood parent for me. Or, as any ’80s kid knows, I’ll show her Heathers, the first, and best, mean girls movie. She can learn the true meaning of life from Veronica, “If you were happy every day of your life, you wouldn’t be a human. You’d be a game show host.”
Here’s to two quick, relatively painless, non-scarring years. And in case that doesn’t happen, watch this video so the blue eye shadow won’t be as terrifying.
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Laurie Nigro, is the mother of two biological children and one husband. She also takes care of a menagerie of animals that leave throw-up around for her to step in in the middle of the night. Laurie’s passionate about frugal, natural living, which is a nice way of saying she’s a kombucha-brewing, incense-burning, foodie freak who tries really hard not to spend money on crap made by child laborers. You can hear her rant about her muse (aka husband) and other things that have no bearing on your life, in this space each Sunday.
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