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Montag, 31. März 2014


Venus-Mädchen und Mars-Jungs?


Männer und Frauen sind anders. Und natürlich ist das schon im Teenager-Alter so. Während die jungen Ladies meistens in einem Wortschwall „Also die ist wirklich unmöglich!“ oder „Gestern hat er mich noch angeschaut, heute war ich nur Luft!“ ihre Erlebnisse wortreich loswerden und man auf die Art und Weise Einblick in das tosende Gefühlsleben der Mädchen bekommt, sitzt am anderen Ende des Tisches ein Wesen vom Mars. Spricht nicht unsere Sprache. Ein „Hmm“ auf die vorsichtige wie-war-Dein-Tag Frage und eine „ganz nett“ auf den Versuch herauszubekommen, wie denn der vergangene Abend mit seinen Kumpels lief – hej, das ist schon redselig! Das höchste der Gefühle ist ein „Mama, was wäre wenn...“ und dann kommt irgendeine bruchstückhafte Story eines ominösen ganz entfernt bekannten Freundes, der wahlweise irgendwelches Zeugs probiert hat (natürlich nicht gekifft, Mama!) verbotener Weise Töff gefahren (natürlich mit Helm, Mama!) ist oder sich in sonst eine halbseidene Situation gebracht hat. Klar, oder? Wer jetzt überreagiert und mit „also wenn das mein Kind wäre, der hätte Compiverbot – lebenslang!“ kommt, hat verloren. Junior verstummt und erzählt nie wieder was. Also bis 125 zählen, durchatmen und cool bleiben. Es ist ja schliesslich nicht der eigene Sohn gewesen, der sich fast umgebracht hat. Oder doch?


Sonntag, 9. März 2014

Alle anderen dürfen!

Bis nach Mitternacht fortbleiben – mit 13? 16 und in die Disco, die erst ab 18 ist? Bier mit 15? Wenn es nach meinen Teenagern ging, bestand die gesamte Welt aus einer gesetzesfreien Zone, mit lauter lässigen Eltern, die alles erlauben. Nur meine Kinder durften nichts, rein gar nichts.
 Na klar hatte mir das zu denken gegeben. Die Gesetzgebung war bis dato nicht gerade hilfreich in einem Land, wo man sich schon mit 16 offiziell prostituieren darf (das hat jetzt geändert, irgendwie war das den Verantwortlichen lange nicht aufgefallen..). Bis ich dann mal angefangen habe, mit anderen Eltern zu reden und zu fragen, wie sie es denn so handhaben mit Ausgehzeiten, Übernachten, Alkohol. Und siehe da: Ich war NICHT die blödste Mutter der Schweiz. Aus der Sicht ihrer Kinder sind alle anderen genau so doof, das eint. Je nachdem wie wichtig dem Kind gerade das Thema ist, gipfelten diese Grenzdiskussionen auch in „Mama, Du hast überhaupt keine Ahnung!“ Doch, ich war auch mal auf der Suche. Und zwar nach Grenzen. Es hat gut getan zu wissen, bis hierhin und nicht weiter, auch wenn es mit meiner Mutter mindestens genau so viele anstrengende Diskussionen gab. Also: Durchhalten. Grenzen setzen und beibehalten, auch wenn’s schwer fällt. Was mich vor dem Einknicken bewahrt? Letztens traf ich wieder eine andere Mutter, die mir verwundert steckte, dass ihre Tochter immer der Meinung war, ich sei viel lässiger als sie, die eigene Mutter. Willkommen im Club!



Mittwoch, 29. Januar 2014

Mama, Du bist peinlich!

Schade schade, die Mamakolumne auf famigros.ch wurde leider leider eingestellt. Aber viele habens gern gelesen und so gibt es hier eine Wiederholung. Und neue. Es ist ziemlich viel los im Leben von Three Teenagers and Me, so why not? Here we go

Mama, Du bist peinlich!


Wie bitte? Habe ich öffentlich gerülpst? Unflätige Ausdrücke gebraucht? Bin ich betrunken aufgegriffen worden oder – noch schlimmer – mit einem bauchfreien T-Shirt ertappt worden? Nein, weit gefehlt: Ich habe getanzt.
 Anlässlich meines Geburtstages habe ich meine drei Teenager auf ein Konzert zu der – mit mir etwa gleichaltrigen – Nena in Das Zelt ausgeführt. Natürlich konnte ich von „Nur geträumt“ bis  „Leuchtturm“ und die „99 Luftballons“ alles – fast - fehlerfrei mitsingen. Und erst als ich zwischen meinen Disco-Tanzschritten mal eine Verschnaufpause einlege, sehe ich, dass meine Nachkommen von mir abgerückt sind. Die 16Jährige formt lautlos das übliche „Mama, Du bist peinlich!“ mit ihren Lippen. Das kenne ich schon. Wenn Freunde meiner Kinder zu Hause sind, ich koche, das Radio läuft und ich die – offene – Küche mit Hüftschwüngen durchmesse. Wenn wir zu mehreren im Auto sitzen, ich die ABBA CD einwerfe und losschmettere. Oder mir ein „Wow, cool!“ rausrutscht, wenn Daniel Craig die Leinwand betritt.

 Eltern sollen zwar bitte nicht von gestern sein, aber möglichst auch nicht die selben Dinge tun wie die Jugend von heute. Das ist wichtig für die Entwicklung, sagen die Fachleute, Jugendliche wollen sich abgrenzen. Sollen Sie. Ich höre derweil „saturday night fever“ oder auch mal „I can’t get no satisfaction“. Und verkneife mir ein „Kind, jetzt bist Du aber peinlich“, wenn ein Teenager vor dem Spiegel die Justin Biber Frisur ausprobiert. Deal? Deal.

Dienstag, 4. Januar 2011

Home ward

Usually the grandmother of the THRE TEENAGERS, MY MOTHER of course, spends christmas with us, arrives normally a few weeks ahead to enjoy the festive season with us. This time for the first time she could not travel. Espescially for No3 it was very tough, No3 needs tradition, needs security in terms of things that never change. But even SHE an HE had a hard time to get that christmas feeling. It was MY MOTHER, who started baking with the kids early in December, MY MOTHER who helped with finishing last minute gift ideas with them, MY MOTHER who was included in our 24day calender with always a special one for her, each day something that one of the THREE TEENAGERS liked to do with her.
Christmas days went by in a different mood, ME trying to create as much christmas feeling as possible despite heeps of work and never ending household duties. Yes, we managed to bake anyway and yes, we actually got last minute presents ready in time. But it was different.
So No3 and ME decided to surprise MY MOTHER and visit her right after christmas weekend.
So the next morning we split: SHE took off to meet friends in the mountains for skiing, HE waited for his father to pick him up to go skiing over new years and No3 and ME took a plane to Hamburg. Its nice to have time for just one of the THREE TEENAGERS even though I always feel much better when we are all together and everybody back home happy and healthy.
No3 and ME surprised MY MOTHER where she stayed to recover from her illness and sure enough made her very happy. We had a nice diner together and picked MY MOTHER up the next morning to bring her home.
The next days we spent running errands, watching MY MOTHER to decide whether she could manage on her own or not, and just beeing together. No3 likes to pace through my old hometown which was still in full christmas spirit with market and all. The last day No3 and ME went to the beach which was all covered in snow and No3 admired the frozen sea.
For me always a very special moment no matter what the weather is. Living far away from the sea in a land that has no beaches and where the view always meets boarders is sometimes hard. I miss to let the eyes wander over the horizon, getting lost in nothing and eternity, where the sealevel meets the sky. Doing so charges my batteries for the weeks to come where I have to function without.
No3 shares my view of nature and I love to watch her explore the wonders I discovered when I was her age.
Then it was time to say goodbye, take the train to Hamburg, stay with friends because our plane back home was leaving very early morning. Such a different world, home or whatever it is that makes me love the north so much.
We made it okay back to what is home right now, No3 unpacked and repacked and we took another train deep down into the mountains to meet her father. No3 wanted to spent new years with him too like HE did and I went home alone. Got there quite late, had some diner and watched the new year arrival with hundreds of thousands other people on the lake. Fireworks in a foggy sky and still you could see the other shore. Not like the sea. Boundaries. Time to set the mind free and let the thoughts wander to the point where sealevel meets the sky. Endless possibilities. Happy new year.

Mittwoch, 8. Dezember 2010

Three chairs, one theme

It's saturday morning, everybody sleeps late. ME setting the table for whoever wants breakfast. One after the other THE THREE TEENAGERS scuff out of their rooms. Normally its very likely that they want to turn on the TV and watch some cartoon or Disney movie or whatever is on saturdays and sometimes they are allowed to. But today its No3 asking if anybody cares to know what happened in the last chapter of the book she's reading. SHE and HE roll eyes but I wanna know. So No3 recites one complete chapter of "Madita".
I know SHE has to read "Der Schimmelreiter"
in school, so when No3 is done, I asked, how SHE's getting along. Of course SHE complains about all those charakters and different angles in the story, I very well remember the turmoil up in northern germany, north sea coast, and can litterally smell the wind and the sea. No3 is impressed and compares Madita and her friends with Hans Mommsen und the people he meets. HE thinks its too much to think so much about any characters in a book. He likes to read the books from Werner J. Egli and finds the heroes clear, easy to understand, very close to real life. And without noticing THE THREE TEENAGERS are in the middle of a discussion about LITERATURE. For almost an hour. Now that's DELIGHTful....

Sonntag, 5. Dezember 2010

One at a time


So what do you do, when little babies turn into smallkids turn into bigger kids turn into teenagers turn suddenly over night into young people? You try to treat 'em like that. SHE earned herself a treat and choose Venice, what a joy! In order to keep things lowkey we set off for Lake Garda the day before, stayed overnight at bf (which is best friend I learned) and left the peaceful mountain site of San Zeno di Montagna early morning heading for Venice.
Smooth 90 minutes later we turned into the parking at the airport (Darsena, not very expensive to leave the car there!) and took the ferry over to Venice, another 90 minutes drive. SHE slept most of the way. Coming this far - schoolwise - needs strength and even though beautiful sightseeing lied ahead the way was not the goal. Arriving was.
Found our recommended Hotel/Pensione in less than two seconds, a most pleasant place on Dorsoduro. Pure Delight about the tiny rooms, a slight reminisence of Paris days.
And then we walked. SHE had to agree to culture in order to equal shopping time which SHE gladly did. So we visited Peggy Guggenheim Collection, gave the most important wishes in our lives a chance and then walked Venice. Amazing to see that the beautiful city still has her impact even on facebook spoiled kids, sorry: young people. ME just following where the city lead her just smoothly trying to point out the breathtaking architecture and layout of the old place.
Lunch where not many tourists gather for the city is a pain with herds of umbrella-followers. More walking, Piazza San Marco, Basilica, and back via Ponte di Rialto. Taking the long walk back to Dorsoduro leads you through the university quarter where we took a first glimpse into exhibition for La Biennale. The atmosphere of these wonderful campusses didn't miss the target to sway a breeze of how the future could smell and feel like on SHE.
Its getting dark when we reach the tiny Hotel, it's still warm outside while hometown is wet and cold. Time for a nap and then Harry's Bar. Yes, you have to do that, take the chance while there, you never know when you will be able to make it back. Bellinis later exploring the city by night adds another dimension to experiencing Venice.
The last Pizzeria open is close to the Hotel when ME and SHE finally get our long awaited pasta and then our feet definetly deserve a rest 'til morning.

DAY 2

ME being up early takes the chance to have the first coffe outside with newspapers of the day, enjoying the busy Canale della Giudecca at start of a normal business day. SHE needs more than one wake up call and joins when the sun is already warming the pavement.
Today is Biennale day. Again we walk the distance, feeling already quite at home, passing some points for the third time since we got here. All we manage because there is so much to see is Giardini-Arsenale. Theme of this years Biennale is People meet in Architecture and its amazing to see the various approaches. Not all of it understandable, not all of it agreeable but thrilling in the mixture.
Time to say good bye, to get some souvenirs and take the boat back to mainland. Difficult to say what will last and what not. An impresson and an idea about what more there is to explore might sunk in. We'll see...

Mittwoch, 22. September 2010

Back to normal?

We made it home alright. Home. We fell from heaven seventeen into reality landing in Zurich the next day. While we stretch and yawn and wait for our luggage we realise we will come home to a pile of boxes because just short before holiday we had to move appartement. From a fairy big part of a whole house into a four bedroom one floor appartement in an appartement building. New village, new neighbourhood, new kids on the block. And yes, new schools too. Times three. I don't know if any of you have ever done that, but those who did know what was waiting for ME and The Three Teenagers. Besides unpacking boxes.
Still two more weeks of holiday left us enough space to get done as much as possible. Astoningishly HE is the first one to completely finish his room. All set. SHE wants a pink wall.
Or two. Fine with me. ME being very happy that SHE starts to arrange herself with the new situation, it's been tough to leave the neighbourhood and The Three Teenagers have a hard time going back and seeing all their friends. Even though its just over one hill, exactly 7.5 Kilometers from where we used to live. There is no direct public transport. So SHE and HE take their bikes downhill and ME picking them up at night, because I don't want them to ride their bikes in the middle of the night. There is no bike trail alongside the street either. Mama taxi with bikes on top of the car....
Slowly but surely we adjust to the new situation. There is much lesser room in the new place, so we had to get rid of furniture during moving.
Leaves boxes with stuff that has no desk, no board, no basket, no cupboard anymore. Yes, I know, chance to throw out stuff. But I am a confessing collector and do need alot of things for work. Like papers, magazines, ideas, souvenirs. And the archive. And and and....
Lots of work is waiting too, welcome home!