Category Archives: The Teenager

The Kids are All Right

The Teenager is going out to a birthday party tonight. Not so very long ago, parties were held during daylight hours, the kids were exhausted from bouncing around giant soft play shapes and they had dinky party bags to take home.

Recently, parties meant a child inviting two or three close friends, taking them to a child-friendly restaurant for tea and staying with them the whole time, then embarrassing them by having the waiters bring out a birthday cake.

Now, heading for 14, the kids want to invite four or five close friends and be left, all on their own, in a restaurant for dinner. Can they even be trusted to behave? Should we follow them in disguise or wait outside in the car with binoculars? How will their waitress cope? I’ve seen these kids on the rugby pitch and they are LOUD. And still laugh at rude words.

The Teenager had already planned his outfit by Monday. It’s been washed, ironed and hung up in his wardrobe – Fred Perry top, Next chinos. With Vans shoes. He’s actually going to use deodorant and style his hair. I won’t be able to get into the bathroom for at least an hour.

What should I do then? Well, I guess what any parent starved of babysitting does – head for the nearest place that sells wine. A good friend is in town, there are three pubs within walking distance of my house, I’m in remission and it’s the weekend. The kids will be fine.

Luckily, I’m a cheap date now  – MS has somehow made alcohol much…stronger. A couple of drinks and I’m ready to flop. And I can always blame my unbalanced walking to the loo on the MS…

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introducing the teenager

Teenagers, eh? Don’t you just love them. To be fair, I seem to have a pretty decent model. So far. Anyway, it was hard enough beginning to come to terms with me having MS, far less breaking it to him. He knew there was something wrong, he just wasn’t sure what. He realised I was tired, a bit snappier than usual and I was traipsing back and forward to the hospital, the doctor’s, etc. I was very organised. I had already ordered a kid’s guide to MS, full of reassuring pictures in primary colours and simple text. So, we had to have The Conversation.

The scene was set. I had cooked his favourite dinner, presented him with dessert (normally only on a Sunday), and managed to pin him to the sofa long enough to have a heart-to-heart. It went something like this:

Me: Um, you know, yes. Well, it’s like this. See?

Him: Uh, no?

Me: Well, you know all those appointments I’ve been having? It seems I have something called multiple sclerosis. Nothing to worry about, just thought you should know. Oh, and here’s a little guide for you to have a read of. In your own time, you know? Now, is there anything you want to ask me?

Him: D’uh. Like, I know? Like, I’m on all the forums. I can even pronounce it. I know all about it. Can I go now?

Me: I really think we should talk about this.

Him: Ok. Are you going to die?

Me: Not from MS, no.

Him: Will you be in a wheelchair?

Me: Not for a really long while, if at all.

Him: (jumps up) Cool. See ya!

And there you have it. How not to have an awkward conversation with The Teenager. As long as I don’t appear disabled or different to all the other mums he sees, everything is great. And maybe that’s the way it should be. As a little family, we have just absorbed MS as part of our lives.

He does enjoy calling me ‘special’ though….

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