[Parenting Adolescents] The day I tried 'just giving a hug'.

Autumn. Even in Kyushu, where there are still days when we can spend the daytime in short sleeves, the days are definitely getting shorter.

It seems that both adults and children are prone to feeling down in November. In addition to the shorter daylight hours, the fatigue from summer starts to show. There are also various events at school, and after they end, there's a sense of relief mixed with burnout. The excitement of Christmas is still a little way off, after all.

Perhaps because of that influence, my first-year middle school daughter's energy level at home is remarkably low (especially in the morning).

Since something like that happened during the rainy season too, it seems to be a common phenomenon that occurs in the middle of the semester.

My daughter cannot be called efficient. When it seems like she's wasting time, I call out things like, 'It's X o'clock,' or 'You need to go to bed early,' but I try not to interfere too much, thinking she needs a change of pace as well.

Besides, I am busy myself. I provide the basics of food, clothing, and shelter, but other than that, I have been observing from a little distance how my daughter will overcome this situation.


Even in such a situation, she seemed to be managing somehow by the skin of her teeth, but the other day, it seems her thread finally snapped. In the morning, even when the time for the bus she usually takes arrived, my daughter didn't come down. She was awake, but showed no sign of being in a hurry at all. My husband went to work while being concerned about it.

---Hmm, she's going to start saying things like 'I want to skip school...' for sure.

Since I've experienced this before, I can tell when things are different than usual. My daughter doesn't say it out loud, but it seems I hit the nail on the head. She came down with a sulky, pouting expression. That this would happen was within my expectations.

---You can still make the bus, you know? It's totally fine to take one of the two later ones. You're always too early anyway.

Daughter: '...'

Usually, she would rush out, saying, 'I want to take the bus when it's as empty as possible.' On this day, she ate slowly and prepared sluggishly. In the meantime, my third-grade son also left for school.

And then, at the stage where she was finally about to leave, she started crying at the entrance, saying, '...I don't want to go.' I knew it.

However, I felt that on this day, if I gave her just a little more of a push, she might be able to go. After all, she had managed to make it to the entrance despite her inner conflict.

Now, I wonder what I should do, I think in circles in my head.

---Well then, for now, sit here and wipe your tears.

I say, handing her a tissue. It's not good to go out with a crying face like that. My daughter sits at the entrance and cries quietly, still wearing her shoes and backpack.

What's next? What should I say next?

Hmm, how about this!

---Once you've calmed down, take your time and go.

Is this really the right thing to do?! They aren't stopping their crying at all.

No. It's fine, probably. Today, I'm not going to just easily ask 'Do you want to take the day off?'

Time-wise, we're still okay.

While I thought about my next move, I felt it wasn't right to treat them like they were made of glass, so I resumed my morning routine chores. I have to get to work, too. I hung up the laundry and washed the dishes.

Then, time flew by, and before I knew it, the bus two buses later had also left. Oh boy, being late is a certainty now.

---Oh dear, you won't make it in time now. What time does first period start?

My daughter answered, '8:30.' Looking at her, she had stopped crying, and the sense of tragedy from before was gone. Seeing that expression, I was convinced. Yeah, maybe she can go today! Plan B it is!

---Then, I'll send a message through the app saying you'll be late for the morning homeroom. You can tell the teacher the reason yourself.

When I said that, my daughter said, 'Okay,' and stood up. Oh! (Applause in my heart)

But she couldn't take that first step right away. I looked at her expression again. Yeah... it's not exactly bright.

That's right, a smile. Daughter, at least lift the corners of your mouth! Should I add an extra option!!

---For now, do you want a hug?

I asked. It was sudden, but a hug, a hug!

My daughter looked surprised for a second, as if to say 'Huh?', but she didn't refuse and nodded, 'Okay.'

So, I wrapped my arms around her back and gave her a tight hug. She's almost the same height as me now, and even in this situation, I felt carefree as I realized how much she's grown, thinking, 'Wow, she's gotten so big~.' And, while patting her slender back,

---I know very well how hard you're trying.

That's all I told her.

Then, my daughter nodded, 'Okay,' slipped out of my arms, and left through the front door. Without even looking back.

I couldn't tell if the corners of my daughter's mouth had turned up, so I don't know.

I felt relieved, and a little bit worried.

No, but, it'll be fine, I'm sure!

Telling myself that, I headed off to work too.

*

In the evening, my daughter returned home completely back to her cheerful self. It seems she enjoyed school. Ah, that's a relief. I'm glad she went after all.

"I told the teacher properly that I overslept and missed the bus."

She said. Good, good, that's fine.

I was curious about how the morning went, but I kept quiet about it, thinking that asking 'How was the hug?' would just be annoying.

That night, for some reason, I couldn't stop sneezing and having a runny nose (probably due to the temperature difference). Then, my daughter suddenly said this to me.

“Mom, isn't that a cold? My throat was a little sore too. Maybe you caught it because we hugged this morning?”

Oh my? It seems she didn't dislike the hug? In fact, it seems she liked it?? (I hold back a grin.)

--Well then, from now on we'll have to hug from a little distance. Since colds and things can spread.

I replied with something awkward (I couldn't think of a clever response).

In any case, it seemed my daughter had completely moved past the morning's incident. That day, she finished her homework and preparations more efficiently than usual and went to bed early.

*

Being a middle schooler is a difficult age, not just because they are busy, but because their hearts are also wavering. Since she is our firstborn, there are many things that are new to us as parents, and we are often bewildered.

However, children grow up on their own more than parents realize, and they think about many things quite carefully.

That is why I want to believe in that strength. Perhaps that is all a parent can really do.

And when their hearts seem a little fragile, or when they need the courage to take one more step, instead of giving awkward advice (which risks stepping on a landmine), maybe 'just a hug' is the best approach. This day made me feel that way. If they are shy or don't like it, then try another way. Maybe holding their hand or smiling at them (like a Bodhisattva) would be fine too.

Our journey of parenting through adolescence has only just begun. I don't know what is right or wrong. So, while I continue to watch over my daughter, I hope we can grow together, thinking about what I can do as a parent and, conversely, what might be better left undone, depending on the situation.

***

Thank you for reading until the end ♩

***Added on 2024/11/18***