YOUR KID SASSES YOU

Here are some things I have heard kids say to their parents:

“Mom! That’s so stupid!”

Please, Mom, just stay away from my friends.”

“Dad, that shirt makes you look really fat.”

“Anabeth’s mom’s hair is so much nicer than yours.”

And here are some things I have heard kids say to other kids in front of their parents:

“I can’t believe my mom won’t let you come over, Amelia. That sucks. She is soooo mean.”

“Don’t even worry about it”—“it” being the instruction just issued by a parent to please stop eating the dessert intended as an after-dinner treat—“you can totally take another cookie.”

“I can’t believe she’s not letting us get soda. That’s so dumb.”

“My dad does that all the time. He’s crazy embarrassing.”

And here are some things I have heard the parents say to their kids:

“Well, I guess I’m just an idiot, right?”

“Sweetheart, please don’t say that, okay? It hurts my feelings.”

“Honey, I’m not trying to be mean. You just have to go to swimming this afternoon, remember? Maybe Amelia can come over next weekend.”

(Nervous laughter) “Wow, you girls sure are enjoying those cookies!”

What the fuck is going on here? Why is your kid being such a sassy, mouthy brat—and why are you responding with self-deprecation and appeasement? Does your kid have an ax or something, and you are trying to get her to calm down and put it away? Or have you just grown so accustomed to having your kid speak to you this way that you no longer realize how hugely, seriously, incredibly messed up the dynamic between you has become?

I am going to bet on the latter (but if I am wrong, yes, please do whatever it takes to disarm your kid, and maybe you should not have an ax lying around in the first place)—which means that you need a significant pep talk and a reminder of the way things are supposed to go down between parent and child. Simply put, your kid is not supposed to be speaking to you this way.

Now, I realize that your kid has many friends and that you have heard all of them mouthing off to their parents on many, many occasions; and I, too, have watched all the television shows that depict sassy kids outsmarting the clueless grown-ups clogging up their homes and schools—so I totally understand that when your kid rolls her eyes every time you open your mouth, you might figure that it’s just part of being a parent. But, oh my gosh, it’s so not.

There are lots of phrases people use to describe the way your kid is behaving: She’s “forging her own identity,” or “struggling with separation,” or “articulating her emotions.” All these things are true; as a tween, your kid is realizing who she is, feeling alternately thrilled and terrified that it’s not you, and exploring the full range of self-expression and assertiveness. Not only is this stage perfectly normal, it’s also centrally important to her development and eventual independence. However, understanding what your kid is doing is not the same as giving her license to keep doing it.

People, please. Would you let some random adult call you stupid, then answer agreeably that, yeah, you must be a moron? Would you let casual acquaintances mock your car, then invite them to climb aboard for a trip to the mall with Kylie? Would you let your spouse tell you that you look horrible, then offer to make his or her favorite dinner and clean the toilet while he or she plays video games? If this sounds like an awesome life to you, you might actually rather be searching dominant-submissive erotica bestsellers on Kindle (updated hourly!) than reading this book—but if you prefer a more conventional existence, it’s time to acknowledge that things between you and your kid need to change.

I know, I know: You can handle it. Sure, being mocked and abused by your kid hurts a little (okay, a lot)—but it’s totally worth it in order to keep open the lines of communication between you. If you insist that your kid speak to you with consideration and courtesy—what if she just stops speaking to you entirely?

This is a legitimate concern, but it cannot be your only concern. Because as important as it is that your kid feel comfortable sharing her opinions and her convictions, it’s also important that she learn to share them in an atmosphere of mutual respect and kindness. And although you’ve read in, like, a million books that you should make sure your kid feels she can tell you anything, that doesn’t necessarily mean that she should be telling you your dress is the most hideous thing she’s ever seen and that she’ll die, seriously die, if you’re wearing it when you pick her up from school. And last—but certainly not least—even though your kid seems very happy ridiculing every single thing you do, and scorning you in front of anyone and everyone she knows, a big part of her is freaking out—and desperately hoping you’ll shut her up.

Here’s the thing: Your kid might act like she totally can’t stand you (and yeah, sometimes she can’t, and sometimes it’s mutual)—but at the same time, she’s totally depending on you. You’re her home base, her anchor, the safe place she’s both rebelling against and counting on as a refuge whenever she needs it; and part of what she’s doing by sassing you is testing how strong, how reliable, that refuge really is. Every time you let your kid insult you, every time you respond to her sass with weakness, self-effacement, or humility, you are failing her in a huge way. Instead of modeling self-respect, assertiveness, and confidence, you are modeling self-doubt, diffidence (look it up), and insecurity. Instead of showing your kid that you are her rock and her champion, you are showing her that you’re ineffectual and uncertain. Instead of proving to your kid that she can count on you when things get rough—that you’d swim across an ocean and walk across a continent to protect her—you’re demonstrating that you’ll cave the minute an eleven-year-old says something mean. If you can’t defend yourself against your kid’s telling you you’re an idiot, how is she supposed to trust you to defend her at all?

So for your kid’s sake, and for your own, I offer these helpful guidelines:

ONE: If other people don’t address you this way, neither should your kid. Words like “stupid,” “idiot,” and “dumb” are not okay; neither is theatrically rolled eyes or mocking you in front of her friends.

TWO: There is a boundary between expressing yourself and hurting others, and your kid needs to stay on the right side of it. “Mom, could you please not wear that dinosaur hat when you pick me up?” (actual quote!) is okay—“Mom, I can’t believe you asked Isabella how her day was—you are so embarrassing. I seriously cannot stand it!” is not.

THREE: Tune in to yourself. You know how you feel when something bad is happening? Your heart races, you feel a little breathless, a sense of impending doom closes in—something along those lines, right? Have you ever noticed that you experience these sensations when your kid is out of line? Instead of ignoring or denying these signs, listen to them, and trust them. They are letting you know that it’s time to take action.

FOUR: Develop a little self-confidence, honestly! You deserve to be treated with respect and kindness. If you are not sure this is true, just fake it till you make it. But of course it’s true. I mean, really.

FIVE: Let your kid hear herself. This will not work for everyone, but it did for two of my most awesome friends, and you might want to try it as well. The next time your kid is treating you to an entrée of sass with sides of disrespect and obnoxiousness, flip on your phone and record the whole thing. Then tell her, “Just so you know, this is how you sound,” and play it back. She may be shocked to realize how horribly she is speaking and immediately shape up—then again, she may not, in which case you’ll want to finish this chapter after all.

With all this in mind, find a neutral time and settle in for a talk with your kid. You can do this at home, at a quiet café, in her room at bedtime with the lights dimmed—anywhere that feels nonthreatening and allows you to focus on each other. Tell your kid that you’re unhappy with the way the two of you have been speaking to each other and that you want to work together to make things better. Don’t be accusatory or launch into a tirade about how disrespectfully she’s been treating you, even if she deserves it—but do let her know that the days of sassing you are over. You can say something like, “I love you, and I want you to share how you’re feeling with me—but I also respect myself too much to let anyone call me stupid or roll their eyes when I’m talking, even you. Let’s come up with ways you can let me know that you’re angry or upset without behaving disrespectfully.” Ideally your kid will warm to the subject, especially if you ask sincerely if you ever make her feel ridiculed or mocked, and the two of you can decide on phrases, gestures, and tones that are off-limits. If, however, your kid refuses to take the subject seriously, or greets your overtures with more back talk, don’t engage—just tell her that you’re disappointed with her response and give her a brief overview of the changes you expect.

As intimidating as it might seem, this conversation is actually the easy part! The hard part is what comes next: calmly, consistently, and firmly reinforcing this discussion with your kid. Even if you have, like, the nicest, most bonding-y talk ever, your kid will still pull out the forbidden phrases, gestures, and tones from time to time—and if the talk didn’t go all that smoothly (in which case you should try again in a week or two), you might even see your kid’s sassiness intensify as she tries to figure out if you really meant what you said. But your job is the same; when your kid sasses you, look her in the eye and say, “That is disrespectful, and you may not talk to me that way.” Give her a chance to make it right; but if she continues in the same tone or tries to make you feel guilty for standing up for yourself (“Oh, great, Mom, thanks! So you don’t even want to talk to me now?”), tell her calmly, “I can see you’re upset, and I want to help you. Let me know when you’re ready to speak respectfully so we can sit down together,” and just disengage. You can go into another room, you can turn on some (loud) music, you can call a friend (this may seem counterintuitive, but the prospect of another adult overhearing her theatrics will actually shut your kid up fast)—whatever gives you a sense of safety and authority, as well as a break from your kid.

If uttering these phrases feels unnatural, by all means adapt them a bit—but stay brief, matter-of-fact, and to the point. If it’s just the delivery you dread, try practicing in front of a mirror, or even on your partner (it’s actually pretty helpful, and can lead to all kinds of naughty fun if you are twisted enough), until the words flow. And while I am not saying this will work the first, the second, or even the third time, soon enough your kid will learn that you mean business—a fact that will secretly relieve and delight her and that will improve your relationship immeasurably. Once the two of you are communicating respectfully, you will be amazed to find how much more both of you enjoy that communication and how many more things you will find to share and discuss. Possibly among your favorite new topics: rude and horrible things your kid has overheard her friends saying to their parents. The minute she starts imitating her best friend rolling her eyes and mocking her dad, you’ll know your kid has turned the corner for good.

In the meantime, however, stay strong. It may help to examine your kid’s outbursts from an anthropologist’s point of view: What is your kid really upset about? What frustrations or insecurities is she giving voice to by sassing you? While understanding her behavior in a larger context does not excuse the behavior, it will help you take what she says less personally, as well as enable you to address her bigger issues in a more effective way. It will also keep you from getting drawn into a power struggle with your kid—saying things like, “You can’t talk to me that way!” (every time she talks to you that way), or tossing some rudeness and sarcasm her way in a woefully misguided attempt to regain your authority and show her who’s boss. (Hint: The boss is usually the serene, collected one, not the angry blowhard sputtering, “I don’t see how I’m the idiot when I’m the only one in this room who understands sixth grade math.”)

And before I let you go—just a quick word about “I hate you.” I am aware that yelling “I hate you!” is supposed to be a rite of passage among tweens and that parents are supposed to absorb it with a smile and adoringly answer, “I know that you’re angry with me,” or “Even if you hate me, I will always love you,” or something equally treacly. I have to say, I am not a big fan of “I hate you.” Your kid may feel this way from time to time, but feeling it is quite different from shouting it in your face with impunity. If you like being called stupid, you’ll love hearing “I hate you.” If you don’t, well, now you know what to do.