Does Parenting Teens Put Too Much Stress on Your Plate?

You know how it is to turn over a new leaf, vowing to eat only healthy foods from now on. Parenting teens can feel a lot like that. You start confidently, in complete control, armed with facts and tips from the media, books and friends. You dig in, go all out for a flashy few weeks or even a few months, and then find yourself sliding downhill, wondering how you lost momentum.

When my first child, Matt, turned 13, I had this feeling of pride, like I had somehow done something cool. I don't know about you, but I eagerly anticipated the next few years knowing we could grow together, learning how to become friends and working our way through the challenges that, surely, a well-prepared family could sail through. Trust me, I was an avid reader, I watched Oprah at least a couple of times a month, and I clearly

remembered my own teen years. Really. I did. I figured this job would be as easy for me as finding dust bunnies under the bed.

It seemed like that at first - like diving off a new spring board. A couple of practice bounces, graceful poise and a well-choreographed swan into crystal waters. We encountered an occasional wave, but being a close family with love and the Lord on our side, we were slicing through untroubled waters. Life was good. A little rocky, maybe. But surely nothing I couldn't conquer.

Then Matt was 14 and some months. Aren, my second son, turned 13. Two teenagers. Ok, maybe a little bumpier. A surprisingly short time passed and I felt like my waterwings had sprung a leak and my spring board was losing some of its oomph.

Without much warning, my two cooperative, well-mannered sons changed a lot. They looked different. They acted different. They weren't precisely aliens but the similarities were alarming and my competent, serene mother-gig went out the window.

Now I was coming up against issues that felt scarier than they seemed in books. Our lives were touched in varying degrees by gang issues, kids doing drugs, social rivalries, girl trouble and stuff I thought would never come close to us. I lost it. You should have heard me yelling. Should have seen me waving arms, dreaming up wild consequences for transgressions. Should have felt me lose my grip more often than I wanted to admit.

The feeling wasn't unlike the sense of panic and floundering that comes when healthy eating regiments slip and swing out of control. What do you do when that happens? There are

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