Thursdays are one of our busier days because each of our teens has a weekly appointment, one requiring the 15 year old to get out of bed more readily than on the other days so she can get to her weekly volunteering and the other requiring the 17 year old to be ready to go pretty much when her sister and dad get back from the 15 year old’s volunteering. I’ve noticed that when each of the girls has something going on, I become a pretty acceptable stand-in as a conversation partner. This isn’t really all that surprising to me because one of the things that I’ve grown to love and appreciate about our teenagers is that they enjoy talking to me and their dad.
Sure, like most teenagers, our girls steal away to their rooms, disappearing behind closed doors for time alone. But they also wander downstairs and drop into one of the comfortable chairs or some other cozy spot just to chat. And I love that we have that kind of relationship. I love that not every conversation is about big things. Sometimes they are interested in talking about their favorite musicians or a creative project they’re working on or even a random topic that can surprise and intrigue me. These conversations are some of my favorite moments.
As I prepare food in the kitchen, I wander into the dining room area as one of my girls shares snippets of observations about a book they’re reading. These snippets might be about the characters or the intricacies of the unfolding plot or they might involve comparisons of the book’s story to life or another book they’ve read or we’ve read together. I’ve watched them do this sort of parallelling with each other for years. Ever since they were young they have read while eating and they have swapped nuggets of the story with one another.
Parallel playing or crafting is an autistic thing wherein an autistic person doesn’t necessarily engage directly with another person. Rather they share the space and contentedly co-exist, each involved in their own play or craft or, in this case, their own book. As a family we have perfected this practice and it’s what invites us to come together while working on individual creative projects. In fact, this is something my husband and I enjoyed doing as a couple long before we welcomed children into our midst. Clearly, we are a family who fits together well in this way and this brings me a deep sense of joy.
Perhaps that’s why I appreciate that I am considered a good substitute or stand-in when one girl is sitting at the table eating breakfast or dinner solo and I become the parallel person. We swap tidbits and share funny videos or memes, either directly or by description. Sometimes our connection is simple, based on shared funnies or short back and forth exchanges about writing or random thoughts. I love that we can connect in these more light-hearted ways as well and as often as we do over the bigger things about life and their teenage journeys. Life reflects the same mix of fun, funny, challenging, and deeper moments.
Because of this, I never begrudge the times when they disappear into their rooms. I don’t fret about closed doors or time on iPads because we have these shared moments, big and small, light-hearted and heavy, funny and somber. We parallel often on our devices and on our computers when writing. We sit across from one another with earbuds or headphones, bobbing heads in time to each other but to different beats of different songs. When one or both of our girls drop into a spot in our living room space and strike up a random conversation or when they flop beside me just to lay their head on my shoulder while I’m reading or playing chess in Duolingo, my heart taps into the joy of getting to be a mama to these two remarkable young women. And that is more than a little something to talk about.