Somewhere between the last Barbie phase and their first eye-roll lies the mysterious realm of the tween years – that emotionally chaotic no man’s land between childhood and teenagehood. If you’re a mum staring down the barrel of a 10th birthday candle, grab a cuppa, because I’m about to spill the tea on everything I wish I’d known before we crossed the line into double digits.
1. Nine is Not Just a Number. It’s a Warning.
Nobody talks about nine. There’s no cute milestone sticker for “first hormonal surge” or “started questioning my existence at bedtime.” But nine is when things quietly begin to shift. Moods. Sleep. Attitude. You’ll suddenly find yourself Googling “Is my nine-year-old possessed or just growing up?”
Top tip: Invest in patience. Like, bulk-buy it. And maybe a journal. For you, not them.
2. Their Opinions Will Multiply. So Will Their Volume.
You will no longer be able to pick their outfit without a small debate that could rival Parliament. You’ll hear things like, “Mum, I don’t like frilly socks anymore,” and you’ll feel vaguely betrayed. They’ll have thoughts. Big ones. On politics, pop culture, and why bedtime is a social construct.
What helps: Give them space to express themselves, even if you wildly disagree. It’s not about winning. It’s about listening (while deep breathing).
3. You’re Still Their Safe Place. But They Might Not Show It.
They might roll their eyes at your jokes now. They might groan when you sing in the car. But they still want you close. They just want to decide how close. Nighttime is usually when the walls drop. Be ready. It might be 10:04pm. It might be during Bake Off.
Do this: Make peace with being the emotional landfill. You’re doing it right.
4. Puberty Comes in Like a Wrecking Ball
It doesn’t wait for 13. It doesn’t even wait for Year 6. Puberty has its own agenda, and it often starts sneaking in around age nine. Pimples, pongy armpits, emotional outbursts that could win a BAFTA – it all kicks off sooner than you think.
Mum tip: Stock up on deodorant, gentle body wash and a heap of empathy.
5. Their World Expands Fast. Yours Has to Keep Up.
They’ll want to go places. Alone. With friends. To shops. To cafes. To the park without you three benches behind. It’s terrifying. But necessary. Risk builds resilience. Start with short bursts of independence and build from there.
Set them up: Teach them your mobile number. Discuss what to do if things go wrong. Rehearse “stranger danger” without the fearmongering.
6. You Will Question Everything
Am I too strict? Too soft? Too available? Too busy? The mum guilt will evolve into a more existential form, but here’s the truth: if you’re questioning your parenting, you’re probably doing a bloody good job.
Permission granted: Trust your instincts. You know your child better than any book or parenting guru with a podcast and a ring light.
7. Their Friends Become Everything
You go from being the sun in their universe to a supporting character in their group chat. Friendships will lift them up and sometimes crush them. There will be drama. Expect tears over WhatsApp messages that you will not understand.
What helps: Stay curious, not controlling. Ask open-ended questions like, “What was the best part of your day?” or “What made you laugh today?”
8. Screens Are the New Battleground
You will fight over devices. You will hide the tablet. You will forget where you hid the tablet. And then you’ll give it back because you need to make dinner in peace.
Solution: Clear rules. Consistent boundaries. And modelling the kind of screen time you want to see (yes, I know, we all hate this part).
9. They Still Need So Much Love (Even If They Act Like They Don’t)
They may not climb into your lap anymore. They may give you a high five instead of a cuddle. But they still need reassurance. Affection. Encouragement. And for you to turn up, again and again, no matter how prickly they get.
Everyday magic: Leave them a note. Let them overhear you saying something kind about them. Keep showing up.
10. You’ll Miss Who They Were While Loving Who They’re Becoming
It’s okay to grieve a little. To miss the toddler cuddles, the squeaky voice, the endless bedtime stories. You’re allowed to feel all of it. But also: this next version of your child? She’s fierce. Funny. Fabulous. And she’s yours.
Final thought: You’re not losing your little one. You’re gaining a whole new person to fall in love with.
Ready for the next chapter? So are they. And you, my lovely, are more than equipped. You’ve done a cracking job so far. Now go and hide in the loo with a biscuit. You’ve earned it.