How to shut up your mother
The Silent Treatment.
You know how it goes: Everything is just fine, sunny and wonderful, upbeat, copasetic. Until it’s not. Maybe you dared ask about homework. Maybe you mentioned that dinner was in 10 minutes so that chowing down on that leftover burrito might not be the thing to do right now. Maybe, who knows, mercury suddenly went into retrograde. Whatever. Doesn’t matter. What matters is what happens next: The Silent Treatment.
We think words are powerful. But silence is more powerful. You can do something with words. You can respond. You can ask for clarification. You can re-interpret. You can work with words, play with words, search for common ground, find humor. But silence? Silence is a wall. Silence is a hulking, unplugged appliance. An airless room. Silence is compressed anger, dense, cold, impenetrable.
Teens are so damn savvy about silence. You have to hand it to them. They know what weapons they have in this fight for independence: Not many. We adults have the big guns. We make all the decisions. We fund, or defund. We allow. We disallow. Oh yes, we grant privileges (when we feel they are deserved based on our Deservedness Criteria). We loosen the reins when we believe the reins should be loosened. But not too much. And not too soon. This is all good. This is all how it should be. We’ve lived longer; we know more. It’s our job to protect, to teach, to talk about things.
But here comes the teen with the undeveloped pre-frontal cortex and the overdeveloped (age-appropriate) snark. Here comes the teen who wants…whatever: to not be bothered, to not be reminded, to forget chores, to play Xbox all day, to do whatever he or she damn wants. And here comes the parent. Okay, here comes me, with words and reasons and stories, with inducements and consequences. And more words.
How can I shut her up? (thinks the teen) How can I get her to leave me alone? What can I say? Oh, wait a minute. It’s not about saying anything. It’s about not saying. If I shut her out, I shut her up.
The Silent Treatment.
I know this from both sides – and so do you. That thing my daughter does, that iron door she slams? I did the same thing. I slammed the same door. My mother was on the other side then. Now it’s me. Ouch.
May 13th, 2011 at 2:58 pm
I found other ways to shut up my mother (who was the world’s best):
belch and fart.
May 16th, 2011 at 4:52 pm
Hmmm. Perhaps the silent treatment is not as bad as I thought!
May 22nd, 2011 at 7:04 pm
Ack – You’re right. The silent shut down really does sting. It is final and of course reminiscent. We did it too.
Knowing that it is a biological cycle removes about 5% of that sting.
May 23rd, 2011 at 11:59 am
Well, 5 percent is something…
May 31st, 2011 at 12:47 pm
As a mom, I use the silent treatment myself. That silence gives me time to think about whether I want to pursue the issue or let it go. My daughter can out silence me handsdown! While my silence means I am thinking about the issue, my daughter’s silence means she is enjoying my silence and she is back into her own world.
September 3rd, 2012 at 12:20 pm
My mum drives me up the wall…..the silent treatment works wonders >:)
September 4th, 2012 at 11:49 am
You are soooo right, Hailey. There is absolutely nothing my daughter can say that is more powerful than saying nothing.
September 23rd, 2012 at 2:58 am
Well, even when I use the Silent Treatment, my mom still swears at me, beats me up. And I just can’t stand it anymore. Suggest something please.
October 1st, 2012 at 4:17 pm
If your mother is verbally and physically abusing you, Anton, PLEASE tell someone you trust about this and get help. She needs help figuring out how to learn to be the compassionate human being a mother is supposed to be, regardless of what her child does or does not do. And you need help, too, Anton. You need to talk about this to someone. You don’t want to grow up with a hole in your heart where a mother’s love was supposed to be.
April 7th, 2013 at 11:14 am
ha ha good advice mom