Conversations with Our Daughters

By N.E.C. Iankowitz

Teenage years are filled with some of the most difficult milestones every young woman is destined to endure. To ease our journey (and assist us in helping our teenagers through this delicate time), this book is a must-read. Conversations With Our Daughters is intended for teenagers, their parents, and siblings, as we all struggle to understand and express ourselves without feeling or causing pain. This book serves to guide us in our efforts to communicate effectively by shedding light on the multiple meanings behind some of the ideas we are already exchanging in our statements, situations & stories.  Through the use of humor and factually based conversations, each chapter helps heal the inevitable wounds inflicted as well as sustained by teenagers. Grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins also find this book to be a useful resource, helping to unravel the mystery of teenage years. 

“This book speaks truth- it speaks the reality of a family going through real issues. Along the way the emergence of growth and wisdom becomes apparent. The flavor of reality permeates throughout. Teenage hood, in all its glory and dismay, are forever captured. It is raw, open, insightful and just plain wonderful. If you're a teenager, you'll recognize yourself. If you're a parent, you'll see yourself at your worst and best. If you're a female, you'll instantly identify. If you're a male, hold on to your seat as your head goes on a spin into the world of women, young & old.
An easy, fascinating read. Thoroughly enjoyable.”~ Dr.Daniel Cohen

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 9, 2010
• ISBN: 9781449078782

N.E.C. Iankowitz

N.E.C. Iankowitz is a board certified advanced practice nurse, Adjunct Assistant Professor of Nursing at Mount Saint Mary College in Newburgh, NY., and former research coordinator of the Longevity Genes Project at the Albert Einstein College of Medicine. She graduated with a B.A in Psychology from Pace (1981) and with an M.S. from the Lienhard School of Nursing (1983). She teaches physical assessment to nursing students at Mount Saint Mary College, is a Second Degree Reiki practitioner, holistic/ integrative health & stress management consultant, the author of two books, (Marcy and Her Friends and Tales of The Soil) and offers workshops on a variety of topics. She is happily married with two daughters in college.

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© 2010 N.E.C. Iankowitz. All rights reserved.2007,

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 3/22/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4490-7878-2 (e)

ISBN: 978-1-4490-7883-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4490-7878-2 (ebk)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010903711

Contents

Foreword

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter 12

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

~ End Notes ~

Foreword

Conversations With Our Daughters is intended for teenagers, their siblings, parents, grandparents and all who seek understanding and self expression without feeling or causing pain.

Each chapter attempts to ease life’s journey by assisting us in our effort to help our teenagers through that decade of their lives that is filled with some of the most difficult milestones every young woman is destined to endure. Using humor and factually based interactions, each page touches the heart, soul and funny bones of teens and adults alike.

The stories are designed to help heal the inevitable wounds inflicted, as well as sustained, by teenagers. Permit the conversations to shed light on the multiple meanings behind ideas exchanged daily. Learn how to unravel the mystery of those delicate teenage years.

****************

It is with gratitude and respect that I acknowledge my gentle and adoring husband, our wonderful daughters, and my exceptionally supportive, patient, and wise parents. ~Nan

This book is lovingly dedicated to those who lived it.

Dear Reader,

As we grow, we become comfortable with certain routines. Only the most courageous dare to deliberately step out of the familiar into un-chartered territory.

Most individuals strive to create a safe, ‘easy’ path through life. But even when one is seemingly able to buffer weeks, months, or years with familiarity and predictability, life has a way of periodically offering challenges - circumstances that are new, different, and oftentimes awkward and uncomfortable.

Parenthood is a chosen journey into the unknown. It is an adventure filled with trial, error, and – for the lucky – second and third chances.

A skillful parent is able to offer tools for survival, in an effort to help offspring get past the inevitable mistakes we all make at one time or another. Successful offspring accept and use the tools offered, to minimize some of life’s otherwise unforgiving consequences.

Over the years, it has become clear to me that parenthood is only for those willing to embrace life outside of the familiarity of an otherwise artificially created ‘comfort zone.’ It is a privilege, gift, joy, and a blessing to be entrusted with the lives of tender young spirits. My life has been vastly enriched by both of my beautiful daughters. It is my hope that I have done, and will continue to do justice to the role of motherhood.

~ N.E.C. Iankowitz

CHAPTER ONE

Button Pushing

Friday finally arrived. The week was so long and busy that Marcy had absolutely no time to do her laundry, let alone finish her social studies project. There were priorities in life. Track practice, instant messaging friends, and straightening her hair were way more important than cleaning her room or doing homework.

It wasn’t always that way. Last year, in eighth grade, Marcy buckled down. She tried her very best in school and enjoyed being a responsible student. But the fact that teachers in ninth grade seemed to care so much about test scores frustrated her enormously. Marcy hated written exams.

French class was fun because her teacher was someone she could relate to and easily understand. There were oral exams in French and Marcy just loved speaking the language. Math was okay because Mr. Hogen let students take exams over. He also set aside special time after school to explain things. English was tough because Marcy was certain Ms. Blaut disliked her. Science was enjoyable because every day there was an interesting class lab experiment. What upset Marcy this year was that, no matter how much she felt she learned exam scores never seemed to prove it.

Marcy recalled feeling relief on the very first day of school when Mr. Stutz, her social studies teacher, said, Poor test scores doesn’t necessarily mean a student doesn’t know the material.

So I guess I can count on social studies to keep my average up, she remembered whispering to Niki who sat just in front of her.

Not so fast. My brother had him. Just wait. Keep listening, Niki warned.

Mr. Stutz continued, I believe that oral presentations are the best way for students to show their knowledge. This would have been fine, except for the fact that public speaking was the next most horrible thing (besides taking tests) that Marcy could imagine.

Uh oh, Marcy said under her breath.

Yeah, Niki agreed, sadly.

Well, that was how ninth grade began for Marcy. After five short weeks, their first oral presentation was assigned. Three weeks after that, it was due.

Here it was, Friday morning. Even though the last day of the school week usually put a smile on Marcy’s face, on this particular Friday Marcy really didn’t want to get out of bed. The reason was simple. Besides the fact that her unfinished oral presentation in social studies was due, there was an English exam waiting to attack her.

She eventually tossed off the covers, chose something pretty to wear, ate her oatmeal, and got to the bus on time. The trip to school was uneventful, and the day went quite well - unusually well, in fact. Mr. Stutz was miraculously absent, so Marcy had the weekend to finish that dreaded social studies project, and her English teacher decided to make the exam ‘open book’. Whew!

On the way home, Marcy counted her blessings. She was even nice to her younger sister, Beth. Marcy felt that, since the events of the day were special gifts given to her personally, she owed it to her family to be sweet, gentle and kind for the entire night. Maybe even for the whole weekend. Well, that was the plan.

She got off the bus, entered the house, greeted her Mom, took a snack, and went upstairs. She kicked off her shoes, changed her socks to a fresh clean pair, and turned on her music before beginning her social studies project.

Then, out of nowhere, she heard Mom yell something. Marcy hopped downstairs in a very good mood until she saw Mom’s face and it wasn’t a happy sight.

Marcy, why is my bedroom door open? Mom snapped, in an accusatory tone.

Oh, I left it open, was Marcy’s matter-of-fact response. It was amazing how quickly a good mood could change when faced with one of Mom’s attitudes.

You know I keep the door closed because I don’t like the dog in my room! And, what were you doing in my room in the first place?

I needed a pair of socks.

Marcy! This is the third pair this week! I told you to do your laundry!

But I have no socks in my laundry anyway!

"Wait a minute young lady. I told you yesterday that you could not have any more of my socks until you did your laundry. Knowing that, you took socks anyway, and without asking me first?"

Since Mom seemed to want to freak out, Marcy felt she had no choice but to oblige. I knew you’d say no! That’s why I took them without asking! Marcy answered, tensing her brow then rolling her eyes.

"That’s it young lady! Go back to your room! And since track seems to make it impossible for you to keep up with the laundering of all the socks you need, you’re off the team!"

Marcy headed up to her room in no great rush until she discovered Mom following closely behind, continuing, And until you learn how to respect my privacy and show respect with your tone of voice, this comes off, she added, removing Marcy’s door from its frame.

Mom was a ranting, raving circus act.

Who cares? retorted Marcy. Hey, she thought, Mom started, so why not make the best of a bad situation by using just one more of her ‘guaranteed to irritate Mom further’ lines?

I’ve had it with your pushing my buttons! This has been going on for months. I’ve HAD it! Not only did you invade my privacy, you are obnoxious beyond belief! I’m calling Grandpa and Grandma for their advice. You are too much!

With that, Mom stormed down to the telephone in the kitchen and dialed her parents’ phone number. Marcy waited quietly in her room. She hated when Mom ratted on her to Grandma and Grandpa. Marcy listened to hear what her mother would say on the phone.

Hi Mom and Dad. This is your daughter and I’m furious with your older granddaughter! She took yet another pair of my socks without asking because she knew I’d say ‘no.’ As far as I’m concerned, she’s now off the track team. I took her door off its hinges and I don’t know what else to do. I’d appreciate a call back. I’m not very proud of how I sound right now but I am just furious with her! Call me when you get home. Thanks.

Whew! Marcy mumbled to herself. At least they weren’t home! She reached under her pillow to pull out her faithful friend: her diary.

Dear Self,

I wonder what Grandma and Grandpa will think of me now? I hate my mother! She doesn’t understand anything. I need to be on the track team, even though the other girls ignore me and talk behind my back. I love to run! I don’t care that I am all alone in the weight room while the other kids flirt and show off their bodies to each other at the other end of … oh, I don’t even care about it! I just want to run! And does Mom care about me at all? NO! All she cares about is telling on me to Grandma and Grandpa!

Love,

Marcy

She put her diary back under her pillow and began to cry quietly to herself. Then, there was a gentle knock on the door that was off its hinges, leaning against her wall. It was Beth. Can I come in?

Yeah. Thanks for asking. What’s up? Marcy sniffed.

I have a problem and I need your advice, said Beth, with tears of her own.

What’s the matter? You look really upset. Did those obnoxious girls get to you again today?

Beth nodded as she blew her nose. It’s like this. Annie’s little sister Kate teams up with Diane to point at me and tell secrets and this has gone on since the end of last year!

"Yup. I know the deal. Sixth grade’s no picnic Beth. But you were really nasty to Kate towards the end of last year. Remember? What goes around comes around."

"So you think I deserve it?" Beth asked, fearful of the answer.

Not exactly, buuuuut-

I knowwwwwwwwww, Beth interrupted. But I was only nasty for one month! This is going on longer than I was mean! She’s been mean since before summer break! Whose side are you on anyway?

Yours! Wan’na know how I see it? Marcy asked with an understanding look and tone.

Yes, Beth sniffed.

You put nastiness out into the world last year for a month and it’s still coming back to you this year. Kate’s putting extra nastiness out into the world. She got even with you already, and now she’s setting herself up for it to come back to her.

Sometimes I want to punch her in the nose!

I know but you shouldn’t ever lower yourself. Punching anyone in the nose isn’t who you are, so don’t do anything stupid. Just remember: what goes around comes around. If you don’t act nasty back to Kate, the nastiness she’s putting out into the world will come back to her in other ways. Let the universe do its thing.

Beth thought about Marcy’s words for a moment.

Marcy continued, Don’t hope for anything bad. Just try to be patient and see what happens knowing that somehow, everything works out in the end. For now, do what you can to avoid her. Stay away from her, understand?

Yeah. I can try, but it’s tough. She was mean to me and to another new girl on the bus who I don’t even know yet. And Diane keeps agreeing with everything Kate says. It’s so IRRITATING!

Yup. Sixth grade can be a bummer. And ninth grade’s no treat either.

Hey, why’s your door off? Beth finally noticed.

I was fresh to Mom. Plus, I said something without thinking. I told her that I didn’t ask her if I could borrow socks ‘cause I knew she’d say no. But that wasn’t true. I really forgot. It happens a lot.

Then why’d you say it?

Oh, I don’t know. Sometimes I get like that. I just hate her!

You do not! Don’t say that! Beth snapped.

Oh please! She called Grandma and Grandpa to tell on me!

She did? Oh, then that’s different. What did they say?

She left a message on their answering mach - and just as Marcy said that, the phone rang. Both girls listened quietly to hear who it was. Marcy hoped it was Niki and Beth hoped it was a boy she liked.

Oh hi Ma. Thanks for calling back. I am so frustrated with your granddaughter that I don’t know what to do! said their Mom.

First of all, calm down, said Grandma. Second of all, never refer to Marcy or Beth as anything but your very own children, no matter how angry you become. We listened to the message you left. Dad is on the extension.

Hi Dad.

Hi. So, we heard th - Grandpa began.

What your father is trying to say is that we don’t agree with how you handled Marcy, interrupted Grandma.

I had a feeling, said Mom.

I can assure you that Marcy is no different from the way you were. I didn’t mind when you took my shoes. Kids love to borrow their parents’ things. Your father loved when Steve borrowed his neckties. To have his son borrow something from him - your father was in heaven! said Grandma.

Ma, you didn’t hear the whole story. This has gone on for months and this was the third day in a row of the sock-borrowing thing. I love when she borrows my shirts and jackets and stuff. This isn’t the same thing. This was about her not doing her laundry, and not asking to borrow something of mine because she knew I’d say no, and being rude and fresh …

Oh, that’s a little different, Grandma decided.

Is Marcy there? asked Grandpa. I’d like to talk to her.

Yes. One second, said Mom, as she began to walk up the steps to Marcy’s bedroom.

Mom’s coming! warned Beth. She has the phone! Oh my gosh! H i d e !

Beth, I’m in ninth grade. We don’t hide. I have to take what’s coming to me, said Marcy bravely.

Marcy, here’s the phone. Grandma and Grandpa want to talk to you, said Mom, quietly.

Marcy held the phone reluctantly, taking a deep breath and bracing for the worst. Hello? she asked, in her listening tone.

Hi Marcy. So you’re having a tough time with your Mom, huh? said Grandpa.

Yup, Marcy sniffed.

Beth, come with me. Let’s give Marcy some privacy with Grandma and Grandpa. Mom and Beth walked out.

Marcy, I think you left the door to Mom’s room open on purpose, said Grandpa.

"No! Wait. What? Why do you think that?"

Well, I think you wanted to get caught.

Huh?

You did know it was wrong to take the socks, didn’t you?

Yes.

You did know you were supposed to have done your laundry. Right?

Yes.

What I think is that, after you took the socks, you wanted your Mom to remind you that taking stuff without permission isn’t your thing because you know that taking things without permission isn’t being true to yourself, said Grandpa. You are a good and sweet person.

How do you know all that?

Years of experience, said Grandpa.

"Grandpa, exactly how old are you?"

For an oak tree, I’m very young. For an acorn, I’m very old. But for a Grandpa, I’m just right.

Marcy giggled. Grandpa always got her to smile, even when she was in the middle of having a tragic day.

So, Grandpa, what am I gon’na do now? asked Marcy, with a serious quiver in her voice.

Well, let’s see. I think it’s time for me to talk to your Mom, Grandpa reassured.

Okay Grandpa. Thanks. I love you, Marcy said with relief.

I know. I love you, too. Always have and always will. Let me talk to Mom now.

MOM! Marcy shouted, bounding down the steps, three at a time. Suddenly, at the bottom, she realized she should have respectfully walked the phone down to the kitchen where Mom was.

Sorry Mom. I shouldn’t have shouted. Grandpa wants to talk to you.

Thank you, Mom said, taking the phone gently from Marcy’s hand. Dad? Are you going to yell at me? Mom asked in a nervous tone. Because if you’re going to yell at me -

Grandpa laughed at the other end of the phone - a loving, fatherly, grandfatherly laugh. Honey, do you want to know what I think? Grandpa asked.

Mom walked down to the basement.

BETH!!! Marcy said in a loud whisper up the steps to her sister who was waiting just at the top of the staircase, Mom is going down to the basement with Grandpa and Grandma on the phone!

Oh boy. This is going to be a serious talk, Beth said, meeting Marcy half way down the steps between the main level and the bedrooms. Do you think she’s in trouble? they asked each other. Neither Beth nor Marcy knew quite what to do, so they each rushed back up the steps into their own bedrooms to do homework.

Meanwhile, down in the basement, Mom continued her conversation with her own parents. Okay Dad. I’m here. Ma, you still there? she asked.

Absolutely. Just because I’m not interrupting your father doesn’t mean I’m not here, Grandma said light heartedly.

Mom smiled to herself. Go ahead. I’m ready. Tell me what you think, she said, defensively.

About this message on our answering machine, in our opinion, Marcy is a normal teenager who knew that taking another pair of socks was wrong. She left the door open because she wanted you to reassure her that taking things without permission is not who she is deep inside, said Grandpa.

"Well, I really screwed that one up."

Don’t worry. You’ll have more chances. Something like it will happen again. She’ll do a lot of that as she grows. She’ll try out all sorts of behavior looking for healthy, calmly defined limits.

‘Calmly’ is the part I have trouble with, Mom admitted. Did you tell her what you just told me?

Only the part about needing reassurance that she’s a good and responsible girl. I expect that you’ll offer that to her, too, encouraged Grandpa. Now, why do you think you asked me if I was going to yell at you?

Because I just – hmmm, I’m not sure, Mom admitted.

Want to know what I think? asked Grandpa.

Yes.

I think your phone message to us was you leaving the door open on your reaction to Marcy.

"Excuse me?" asked Mom.

You needed to be reassured by your parents that you are really a rational human being. You need us to remind you that, although you acted like one, you are not a lunatic, said Grandpa.

Ma, do you agree with Dad?

I certainly do. You’re our daughter and a wonderful and sensitive person. You know right from wrong. Marcy’s just like you when you were little. We loved you then. We love you now. We love Marcy and we know you do, too. It’s your turn to talk to her, and get rid of those foolish punishments. They are not the proper consequences for this situation.

Okay. You’re right, said Mom. "Wait! Both of them? Can’t I leave the door off? She was rude you know!"

Okay. Leave the door off, agreed Grandma, reluctantly.

I’ll go talk to her now. I love you guys. Thanks for helping.

That’s what we’re here for. Remember we love you. Now go do the right thing and be sure to call us later, all right?

Okay. Thanks. I will. Marcy’s Mom hung up the phone in the kitchen.

Beth rushed into her sister’s room to prepare her with a loud whisper of warning, Marcy! Mom’s coming up from the basement. She might be on her way to your room. HIDE!!!

Beth, I already told you. Ninth graders don’t hide. Marcy reassured, calmly.

Mom walked into Marcy’s room without knocking. She didn’t look angry. Beth made a quick exit. Mom sat on Marcy’s bed. Marcy, did you think I called Grandma and Grandpa to tattle on you?

Yup.

Well, I didn’t. I originally thought that I called for their advice but now I realize that I called to tattle on myself, Mom began. I was rude and unfair to you. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.

Huh? This was a shocking and unexpected yet very refreshing turn of events, thought Marcy.

I was frustrated and I needed my parents’ help, Mom continued. A big part of me knew I was acting like an overtired toddler.

Did they help you? Marcy asked, half hopeful and half afraid of the answer.

Yes. They did. First, you are not off the track team. Second, I realize that you only needed me to remind you that you’re a wonderful person who just got frustrated. Third, you will have your door back as soon as you show proper respect to me.

I understand, Mom. I was really mad at you because you ruined an excellent mood I was in, but I guess I set myself up for that when I decided to take your socks instead of doing my laundry.

Well, that sounds more like the grown-up Marcy I know and love. So, do you forgive me?

Yes. You forgive me?

Of course. Now, what do you really think about your door staying off?

"I think that it’s fair. I was a brat. I’m sorry for what I did and said and I’m glad you called Grandma and