Our country loves labels. I’m a white-collar, middle-class
Gen-Xer who was raised by pre-Baby Boom parents during the Cold
War.
Our country loves labels. I’m a white-collar, middle-class Gen-Xer who was raised by pre-Baby Boom parents during the Cold War.
Now my wife and I are raising two “tweens” in a post-9/11 world.
I didn’t know what tweens were or that I even had tweens until I recently read that kids between 8 and 12 fall into this category. Remember, we all must fit into a category in this nation!
My sons, ages 10 and 12, went from newborns to infants to toddlers to adolescents in the blink of an eye. I don’t like that they’re called tweens, because that’s way too close to teens, and that’s way too close to them becoming adults and leaving the nest.
My oldest boy (my sons will always be boys to me) will go from tween to teen 10 months from today. I can’t fathom that and I will refuse to believe it until it happens. He’s three years away from high school, seven years from college, 12 years from being my age when I got married.
“Kids grow up too fast,” is a common refrain, and according to the tweens article it’s true that kids are maturing physically sooner than ever before. Whatever researchers say, most of us parents try our best to delay any rush to adulthood.
I drop my sons off at school every day and I insist that they give me a hug before getting out of the car. They are compliant, if not willing, and allow me a courtesy hug. I even get to kiss the top of their head on occasion when they lean in from the back seat. If their friends are nearby, of course, they try to escape the car as quickly as possible.
When I was a kid, I used to get out of the car as quickly as possible at school because the neighbor who carpooled my sister and me to school used to smoke cigarettes with the windows up.
I’ll enjoy what little affection I get in public from my sons while I can, because soon enough I’ll probably be lucky to get a grunt from them in the morning before they trudge off to school. It’s a far cry from the first day of preschool or kindergarten, when they had to be peeled off our legs by teachers when we dropped them off.
Some tweens today are going on dates and chatting on MySpace. That stuff is going to wait in my house. We are still debating the merits of a cell phone for my older tween, but he has trouble keeping track of his lunch box, so that item has been tabled for now.
Despite my misgivings about my tweens’ inevitable march to adulthood, there are many upsides to their maturation:
We can talk sports. Now, in addition to asking my dad how he feels about the Giants’ off-season moves – or lack thereof – I can hear from my sons how cool it would be to have Manny Ramirez in left field.
I no longer am the only man in the house when it comes to taking out the garbage. Nor am I the only man in the house who complains about having to take out the garbage.
We can play catch with a baseball or football and shoot hoops at full speed. My full speed isn’t what it used to be and theirs is getting better all the time. Gone are the days when I let them win.
Now I try not to lose.
We have deeper conversations about life and current events and school. But we also take time to sit on the couch and watch “SpongeBob SquarePants” together or sort through their baseball cards.
These are the best of days, this time ‘tween preschool and high school. I just wish the time would slow down.
Adam Breen teaches journalism and yearbook at San Benito High School. He is former editor of The Free Lance.
