LAST UPDATE | 7 Jul
AFTER YEARS OF extensive research and collaboration with many other parties, I can confirm that the most difficult stage of parenting is whichever one you are currently in right now.
For us, we are at the point of the year when everything looks like it’s falling apart (to be fair, this is every part of every year). We are only back from a week away, and I feel like I’ll never catch up at work or home. There are piles of laundry everywhere and the fridge is constantly empty (yet still always looks like a pack of starving racoons ransacked it).
The schools are on holidays, so whenever I walk into the kitchen, someone has been baking, every utensil and bowl has been used and most of the surfaces are coated in brownie batter.
In a surprising turn of events, the kids seem to be showering 17 times a day, which leaves me dreading the electricity bill and unable to find a single clean towel for the past few weeks.
The 14-year-old went to the Gaeltacht last week, which actually brought the number of kids in the house at any given time into single digits, as I don’t think we’ve had one night this summer where she hasn’t had a sleepover. Unfortunately, we are now on the other side of that chaos, left with an unsettling and heartbreaking level of peace and quiet. We miss our eldest so much, but it’s good to let her have some freedom.
This is her first time away from home, and the sight of her empty bedroom in the mornings shatters me. The room is, of course, completely cleared because she managed to bring everything she owns away with her. God love the poor Bean an Tí (who is also in for a surprise with her next electricity bill). It’s great for her to develop some independence, but my nerves are shot.
Along with the peace and quiet she also left me with a throwaway comment that has been haunting me. As she was packing, she chirpily announced her excitement that she would be able to wear whatever she wanted, without anyone telling her to go and change!
This situation has reminded me how hypervigilant I’ve become about my teenager’s outfits, despite never wanting to be that parent. I thought I’d be that mother who empowered her children and championed their self-expression. Nose piercing? Go for it. Short skirt, high heels, lots of makeup? Why not. Vive la liberté! Of course, as with many parenting experiences, that kind of notion is so far from reality.
It seems like we’re all liberal-minded until we have teens, and then they venture down the stairs wearing what amounts to a bodycon dress the size of a sock. Suddenly, we are launched into a panicked push for modesty that feels almost nun-like. I’m as guilty as the next parent of doubling down on this one, and I’ve had to stop myself from roaring, “Cover yourself up, for God’s sake” like my mother would have done with me.
It’s a very delicate juncture to reach. You want your child to be comfortable in their own skin. You want them to fit in with their friends. You do not want to be the voice stuck in their heads that tells them they don’t look suitable or makes them second-guess their clothing choices. The last thing you want is for them to inherit the same shame handed down to you by your Irish-Catholic adjacent conditioning.
But you’re also conscious that they’re growing up at a time of mass influence from online sources, and with that comes the potential for the hyper-sexualisation of young people. And you know what, maybe… sometimes, that’s just a little… too much… too soon?
I don’t remember my parents ever refusing an outfit, and even if they did, I would probably have sneaked it out anyway to prove a point. However, to be fair, it wasn’t an issue since I had chronic nosebleeds when I was a teen and briefly tried vegetarianism, so combined with the typical Irish weather, I was really pale and was more likely to slip into a duvet than a crop top.
In my day (yes, I went there) it was also much harder to access various types of clothing. Today, it’s sold cheaply in every shop and online and all their friends are wearing the same. They are bombarded with these outfits from social media, TV and everywhere they look. I get it, we are fighting against the tide. I have regularly noted with friends that the shops only stock clothes for either Ariana Grande or Hilary Clinton. There is no in-between!
My daughter is well able to stand her ground and tell me that I am wrong, that she should be able to wear what she is comfortable in. And I agree with her, mostly. So now I swing wildly between both trains of thought, which is actually very difficult for us both to keep track.
I’ll tell her that anyone who judges the length of her skirt is not someone she should spend very much time with, while at the same time I’ll also ask her to not wear ‘that skirt’ out.
Sometimes I lose my mind over an outfit I didn’t bat an eyelid at the day before. Tops can be pulled up or down, and sometimes the same pair of tiny shorts looks completely different when paired with a hoodie, or a top, or with different hair/ tan and makeup looks. I don’t mind any outfit they pull together for a disco, because it’s situationally appropriate, but I lose my mind when they try to wear it to the local shopping centre.
This all gives me flashbacks to my efforts to wear something marginally revealing to mass when I was the same age, only to be given short shrift by my parents at the door and promptly told to “put a jumper on you, for God’s sake”. God really did feature in the conversation around clothing back then.
I wish I had a definitive and clear response for my daughter on these matters, for both of our sakes, but none of this is easy. As she grows up and carries my voice and words with her, I want them to be uplifting and reassuring. I don’t want my voice to be the one that makes her doubt herself, or second guess her decisions.
Before we went on holiday this year we had thoroughly discussed every type of outfit and bikini and I was so frustrated that we had to do this. Obviously, swimwear is appropriate at a beach or pool, and we should be able to choose the clothes we feel comfortable in. It shouldn’t be this hard. But the bikinis are literal string these days and good God, can we just not?
As it turned out, the two girls were with us every minute of the day, and it was very, very warm. So actually every outfit they had was fine because they were entirely safe and their comfort was a priority. We didn’t need to impose any limits. But fast forward then to a week later and I am having a conniption when they try to leave the house in those same outfits.
Again, I can’t tell you how much I never wanted to be this type of parent. We try so hard to get everything right. And it’s a lot of fighting in the dark, hoping that you are doing the right thing for them. It doesn’t feel great at the moment, and sometimes I feel like we are fighting daily about clothes, which feels very silly and petty, especially given everything else going on in the world.
I wish that we did live in a world where they could wear whatever they wanted, without judgement. I wish I could change the whole world, instead of her. But I remember what it was like to be a teenage girl. And a grown woman. And what I know from both is that it’s complicated.
Before she left for the Gaeltacht, I didn’t even look in her suitcase, reasoning that she would be under adult supervision for the duration and ultimately leaving it in her hands. And as it turns out, the Irish Weather is fully on my side, with torrential rain and storms every day. She called home on the second night and asked me to bring her Uggs, hoodies and fleece joggers down when we visit this weekend. Who knows, maybe a little break from it all will help us both get a bit of perspective on the bigger picture. We’re in this together, after all.
Margaret is a busy mum of two, living and working in Kildare.
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