Updated: November 19, 2020
Originally Published: April 16, 2020
At first, my attempts to connect with my teenage son often followed heated conversations that left me feeling both guilty and frustrated as a parent. Once he was off to school, I found myself compelled to send texts to either apologize or explain my stance, even if I knew he wouldn’t check his phone until after school hours.
Whenever he was with friends working on a project or at his dad’s house, I couldn’t resist the urge to text him. I’d tell myself to wait for a proper one-on-one chat, but the fear of forgetting what I wanted to say often drove me to type out my thoughts immediately.
In-person conversations between my son and I can feel like we’re speaking different languages. My parenting instincts often cloud my communication, and let’s face it—I’m from a generation where the internet was a novelty, and smartphones were just an idea. I’ve typed essays on a typewriter and called friends on a rotary phone. While he insists I’m “pretty cool, actually, for a mom,” there’s still a gap in understanding that feels insurmountable at times. Face-to-face talks are sometimes punctuated by eye-rolls from both sides, creating an invisible barrier that complicates our interactions.
I never anticipated that texting would offer a better communication channel. I just wanted to connect with him, to understand his world. When direct conversation wasn’t an option, texting became my go-to method. Surprisingly, it worked better than I ever imagined. Even now, in the midst of a global pandemic, when my teen is physically under the same roof but separated by drywall, our most effective communication is through text.
For instance, just last week, I sent him a screenshot of his grades from distance learning. (Let’s just say they weren’t great.) I had read advice suggesting that parents should ease up during this adjustment period, but his grades clearly indicated he wasn’t putting in the effort required. I texted him, “You have until Friday to improve these grades, or electronics will be off-limits until you do.”
Clear and concise, free from the risk of my “or else” face that typically makes my kids giggle. No chance of me losing my cool and jeopardizing my credibility. Just a straightforward expectation and consequence, in writing. I could almost hear his sigh through the drywall, followed by a quick text: “Okay.” Four days later, his grades improved.
Our texts aren’t limited to disciplinary matters. I often share memes that my younger child wouldn’t understand, eliciting laughter from my son. He seems to enjoy that I trust him to appreciate humor that’s a bit risqué. He sends me YouTube clips of wild science experiments or hilarious fails. During the early days of lockdown, he shared several videos debunking myths about COVID-19. He hardly spoke to me about his concerns regarding the virus, but the videos he sent made it clear it was on his mind. This opened the door for us to discuss our fears and coping strategies at dinner, allowing us to tackle the situation as a united front.
Texting has paved the way for more meaningful face-to-face discussions. It’s as if we’ve laid our cards on the table before starting a game. This sharing of information alleviates doubts and misunderstandings. I know he’s aware of current events, and he doesn’t assume I’m out of touch just because I’m older. Our texts align us, similar to receiving a detailed agenda before a meeting, minimizing the potential for awkward surprises.
Is this why texting often feels more effective than direct conversation? Perhaps the ongoing exchange of information eases the emotional weight. I believe so, but it goes beyond that. My texts following a challenging morning allowed me to articulate feelings more thoughtfully than I might have in the heat of the moment. Crafting my messages gave me time to process my emotions and express what I truly wanted to convey. Was I really as upset about him forgetting his field trip permission slip, or was that an understandable mistake and just a result of my sleep-deprived frustration?
In my follow-up texts, I could apologize for any overreactions and clarify my justified feelings. I remembered to express pride and temper my anger, recognizing my son is doing his best to navigate this challenging stage of life while I, too, am learning and growing.
I see similar thoughtfulness in his replies. Though he tends to use fewer words than I do, texting is his native language. The memes he shares reflect his sense of humor, while the animal videos reveal his softer side. The science clips show his curiosity and enthusiasm for learning.
While I wouldn’t want texting to replace face-to-face interaction, I’m committed to using any means necessary to connect with my child. If that means our most meaningful conversations happen with a physical wall between us, then I’m willing to embrace that reality.
If you’re interested in more insightful discussions about parenting, check out this blog post. For those looking for resources on pregnancy and home insemination, I recommend exploring Women’s Health for excellent information.
Summary
This article explores the evolving communication dynamics between a mother and her teenage son, highlighting how texting has become a more effective means of connection than face-to-face conversations. It illustrates the challenges of generational gaps in understanding and the benefits of digital communication in bridging those gaps. The author emphasizes the importance of using available tools to foster a strong relationship with her son.
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