Who’s in charge of the marketing campaign for parenting? Whoever it is, you’re doing a bang-up job. You’ve convinced us all that it’s the most wonderful job in the world so long as you can survive the sleep-deprived infancy, the terrible twos, the temper tantrum threes and all of the other negative ages. Which is all of them? I’m not sure I’ve ever heard anyone say, “I’m the parent of a teenager,” without eliciting some sort of sympathetic response. Please, marketers, if there’s a specific way I’m supposed to feel as the parent of a pre-teen, don’t tell me. This might be my favorite age so far, and I don’t want to ruin my experience with your expectations.
At twelve, Sonja still needs us and still likes us. She is not ready to fully embrace independence, but she’s also remarkably competent. I get daily reminders from the school to check to see if she has missing assignments, which I ignore because a) sixth grade is a good time to face natural consequences for missing work, and b) Sonja would never forget to turn in an assignment. Unfortunately competence in twelve-year-olds is highly selective. Constant reminders to pick up her socks go unheeded, and she frequently needs help to operate the microwave.
Sonja has always defied our genetic expectations. She doesn’t resemble either one of us and she’s an extrovert. But sometimes, just sometimes, I look at her and see my own reflection, for she is my little obsessive. If her extroversion is a product of nature, is the obsessiveness a nurtured trait? I think the answer is yes, seeing as how I am incapable of expressing ambivalence about anything. But then the question is, how did I get to be this way? There are times when seeing yourself clearly through your child’s behavior brings up internal conflicts, but this is not one of those times. Sonja is self-assured in the best way possible, in that she fully embraces all aspects of herself no matter what anyone else says about or to her. It’s inspiring and reminds me to be my obsessive self. Obsessive is probably not the right word. Sonja would say that she “hyperfixates,” which is a trendy word but still not the right one. (Maybe there’s a word in German. Germans have a word for everything.) I’m going to hold firm to obsession. There are downsides to obsession that I experience, like rumination. but the upside is the capability to completely immerse yourself in the things that bring you joy. That’s the definition I want to give for obsession. Immersion in joy.
Right now, Sonja is immersed with the Game/Food/Film/Style Theory YouTuber MatPat, and I approve. His video on why McDonald’s fountain Coca-Cola is better than any other fountain soda blew my mind. As a household, we probably have a YouTube problem, but Sonja is a smart consumer, and she has a knack for picking out educational content. This is the upside of YouTube – the ability to learn certain things quicker and better than we ever could before. Even when she’s watching entertaining content, there’s, well, actual content, and other YouTubers with nothing to say who say it loudly (ahem – Flamingo) are being phased out.
I am contractually obligated to mention here that Sonja loved Five Nights at Freddy’s, the recently released movie based on the game. The movie features a cameo by MatPat.
Sonja has also very recently decided she’s into ’90s band Weezer, after seeing a viral meme that used the guitar lick from their hit “Buddy Holly.” This led Shaun and I to reminisce about the release of Windows 95 (which came pre-loaded with the “Buddy Holly” music video*) and then feel old. Weezer’s first album was released in 1994, twenty-nine years ago. That makes it older to her today than Sgt. Pepper was to me when I was listening to it in 1994. Yeesh.
Sonja continues to be wildly creative. She loves making art, whether its drawing or crafting or editing videos. She created a podcast with a friend, and is frequently frustrated with me because she wants to make videos and post them online, and I insist that she has to post them privately. This kid wants a following – who needs to act when you could live that sweet, sweet YouTube dream? – and I understand. (Hello, readers!) Eventually, she will be unleashed on social media, but I’m holding her back as long as possible, trying to instill in her that it’s the joy in the creation that’s critical.
If you ask Sonja, she will tell you that she hates her school this year, and it does seem overcrowded and unruly**. But life is overcrowded and unruly, so maybe this is good practice for what’s to come. For all of the complaining about missing Washington, she’s handled this move with more grace and ease than the rest of us, and I’m starting to see that any traditional learning lost is not a total loss. She’s learning how to handle change, my arch nemesis, and she’s learning it young. This will serve her well.
If you’ve read my previous blogs in which I chronicle my anxiety over removing Sonja from her highly capable program and that previous paragraph sounded a little bit pat, let me explain. I had an interview with a school in our new district a couple of months ago, and when the principal asked if my daughter was in the highly capable program here, I said, “she should be.” He and all the others at the table immediately understood. The problem is that we weren’t in the district last year, so we weren’t able to submit the application on time. And there’s apparently no such thing as a transfer program. The principal told me, “you know what, at this point, it doesn’t matter. Next year, in junior high, she can take whatever advanced classes she likes.” It felt reassuring to hear this from an educator in a high position. I extrapolated this a little further, into realizing, fair or not, our socioeconomic status means she has the foundations for whatever she wants to do, and this year won’t break that. Or, as author Oliver Burkeman puts it, “The struggle for certainty is an intrinsically hopeless one—which means you have permission to stop engaging in it.” By the way, her first trimester grades recently came in and she got As in everything, except music, in which she got an A+. Sonja said she didn’t realize A plusses were actually real.
And now for the “what we’ve been up to” part of the post. Mostly, we’ve been adjusting. Some things are not difficult to adjust to, like the fact that there is no school bus service here. Sonja has to walk to school, but it takes a total of ten minutes, and has the added benefit that no one has to take the school bus. If walking were an option in Washington, we’d do it, but it would be miserable probably 65% of the time. Here, it has rained on us only once, which by southern California standards is a lot. The walk to school is one of those ways in which Sonja is still leaning on me. She wants me to walk with her, and I wouldn’t dream of saying no. Not only do I like Sonja, but did I mention I also quite like walking? My schedule right now is perfect in that once I drop her off, I get to continue walking around the neighborhood for as long as I’d like. Eight a.m. in the winter is exactly the time that one wants to go on a long walk in Southern California, before it gets too hot. Our house is in walking distance of Sonja’s two new friends, which means they can stop by whenever. We’re also within walking distance of a cute tea shop. Sonja and friends walk there, they buy tea, they come back. It’s the perfect little taste of independence for pre-teens.
There are some other things that aren’t as delightful as a walk in the sunshine and a cup of tea. For example, we are not adjusting well to being renters, but that’s more us than Sonja. No one would mistake us for locals yet, either. For one thing, we’re not frightened by rain. For another thing, we rely on GPS to get everywhere. We don’t know the names or numbers of any of the freeways, let alone how anyone could remember the seven different highways they need to get to one destination that’s ten miles away. Also, the locals here seem to think it’s Christmas time. All of the stores are playing Christmas music and selling holiday-themed sweaters, but I’m pretty sure it’s still summer?
When it all gets to be too much, we go to Disneyland, or Legoland, or Knott’s Berry Farm. Visits to theme parks seem less stressful in that scarcity is no longer part of the equation, but now the expense seems like a bigger part of the equation. Are we getting our money’s worth? Sonja still won’t let us get on any of the rides we want to go on, but she’s also not interested in any of the attractions or events aimed at the little kids. This means we mostly wander around and shop and eat, which isn’t terrible but it also is not something I want to pay admission to do. I am still holding out hope that we just haven’t hit “theme park age” yet. Maybe next time. Stay tuned.
Sonja as Hastunke Miku at Legoland for Brick or Treat. 
At a playground near the house. 
Dressed up like a black cat for Halloween. Mask by Sonja. 
Dressed up in a dino mask for trick or treating. Mask by Sonja. 
Sonja and Dad stuck on Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. 
At Flo’s V8 Cafe. 
Mailing postcards from Disneyland! Did you get one? 
Ghiradelli at Disney California Adventure. Yum! 
On the ferris wheel at Disney California Adventure. 
One of our favorite YouTuber’s has his logo branded into the barn door at Knott’s Berry Farm. 
Sonja won’t let us on this ride, but you know, I’m actually okay with that.
*This was a big deal. Really.
**Also, whenever I have to go to the front office, they seem absolutely bewildered that an adult human has entered the building.
Suite Story Productions 