Ali (Photo credit: Kathy Crabbe)

There isn’t a day that goes by that my teen-aged daughters don’t “call me out” on something!  They can smell me trying to “fix them” or “offer advice” a mile away.  No matter how much I try to hide it or camouflage it, their blood hound-like noses sniff out my meddling and quickly put a stop to it.

Sometimes they respond with a whine, “OMG Moooooom!” Or retaliate in a way that stops me in my tracks, “Mom, no!”  Or my favorite, a remark I mastered a long time ago that comes back to haunt me time and time again, “Really mom (followed by a slow eye roll and a simultaneous flip of the head and hair)?”

Though annoyed and even hurt at times that they aren’t  incorporating my pearls of wisdom, deep down, I know they are right.  They are right because there is nothing wrong with wanting to put their own personal stamp on things.  To experience life in a way that is unique to who they are.  To allow themselves to fail and find out if they have the gumption to pick themselves up and try again.

This is the feminine way of doing things — experiential, intuitive, instinctual, gritty and natural.  It’s not the way I was raised — but then again — my generation was taught to stuff our messy feelings and to look pulled together at all times.  And most importantly, we were taught to never ever get our hands dirty.

This is the line I battle with on a day-to-day basis.  How do I give my kids enough room to get messy and encourage experimentation yet know when to reign them in so they don’t get too much experience too soon, if you know what I mean?

Luckily, I seem to have the kind of girls that aren’t afraid to point out what is or isn’t my business.  In a way, I am grateful to them.  It doesn’t hurt to remind me, not only as a parent but as a person, to hold myself accountable.  To keep my nose in its place and know when to interfere and when to not.  Of course, I may not agree with my kids on many things but at least they aren’t afraid to voice their opinion.

Some would call this “healthy boundaries” but I like to call it “responsibility.”  Being responsible for what I can control — not control — and gain the wisdom to know the difference is the best thing I can teach my kids.  Allowing them to “call me out” (within reason of course) is a great lesson for them to learn so they are ready when their friends, boyfriends, teachers, spouses, co-workers and bosses tread on their territory.   How else are they going to practice their voice?  And how will they recognize it if they don’t hear it over and over again?

I only hope and pray that their voices will mature as they get older:

• the whining to turn into a more assertive tone;
• the eye rolling into straight-on eye contact;
• the flip of the head and hair into a firm, square stance of confidence.

Like I said, I can only hope!  In the meantime, however, I will try to learn from them when I venture into their territory and heed their snarly growl because this would be my responsibility.  On the other hand, if all goes well, they will in turn learn to trust their instincts more and more and not shy away from standing up for themselves when others in their lives trespass against them.  And boy, will they get a lot of practice from me as they move deeper into their teen years!

How about you?  What do you do when others trespass into your space?  What do you do when you find out you have trespassed into someone elses space?  Is there a pattern or relationship between the two?