I am very excited to have another blog post of mine featured on the website, Grown & Flown, one of my favorite sites about parenting older kids. My latest piece came about when I found myself getting caught up in the insanity of my older son’s college search. And, let’s be clear, it was my insanity not his.

As I worked through my own anxiety and insecurities about the process, I realized that my kid would find his path…and I needed to stay out of it.

You can read that post here.

You will find my other post on Grown & Flown about learning to let go of your kids here.

Teenagers are moody. And by moody I mean they always seem to be in a crappy mood – at least towards their parents. Sure, every now and then they may laugh but it’s usually at you, not with you.

At least that’s how it is in my house lately.

And, honestly, I’m kind of sick of it.

Thankfully, it’s my second time dealing with a teen and I know what teenagers are like (self-absorbed little know-it-alls) so I don’t take it personally—even if it is. Instead, in those moments when I want to walk out the front door and not come back until my youngest is 25, I employ the mantra I’ve used since my second child was born: “this too shall pass” (and I hide in my bathroom until the desire to flee has passed).

But, let’s be clear, just because I don’t take my kids’ lack of communication personally doesn’t mean that I like it. I miss my chatty, happy little kids and, even though I can’t have them back, I would like a little conversation every now and then.

So, in an effort to spark some dialogue (or at least get more than just a grunt) I asked my fellow moms of teens what they do when they want to get their kids to talk. Here are 6 tried-and-true ways to get your kid to open up – even if it’s just for two minutes.

1. Don’t make eye contact. This is the cardinal rule of parenting a teenager. If you want to ask your kid a question do it while you are cooking dinner, reading a book or doing yoga – anything but looking directly at your kid. If, by mistake, you casually glance at your child while asking her what she wants for dinner, lie and say that you weren’t looking at her; you were looking past her and out the window at a cat that is stuck in the tree. It may confuse her long enough to avoid a total shut down for the night.

2. Feed them. Snippy behavior is often just the result of being hangry (hungry makes for a vicious kind of angry in my house). And, sometimes, just forcing your family to sit around the table and share a meal results in a little conversation (As long as I look past the fight over no electronics at the table that we have EVERY NIGHT before we sit down. It’s a battle of wills that I lose every now and then.)

3. Go to a robot competition. Or a museum or dance recital or some sporting event. Do something he or she likes to do even if you would rather stick bamboo shoots under your nails. It’s amazing how chatty kids get when they are excited about something. Feign excitement if you must but, more often than not, you might end up enjoying yourself after all.

4. Drive your kid somewhere. It’s perfect. You can’t look at him while you are driving and he is stuck. BUT, (and this is very, very important) this only works if you “lose” your kid’s ear buds before he gets in the car. Once those babies go in, all hope of conversation is gone.

5. Watch a favorite TV show or sporting event together. Warning: Only talk during commercials or lulls in the action. Whatever you do, DO NOT plop down to watch one of his or her favorite shows and start asking questions about the show. If you thought your kid was moody before just wait until you interrupt the most important part of his favorite show to ask what a character’s name is and why she is riding a dragon.
6. Cardinal rule #2 – Don’t ask more than one question. Seriously. If you open with a question like, “How was school?” you have already put them on the defensive and their fight-or-flight response has kicked in. You need a follow up to that question that is not nearly so intrusive. If the next words in your interrogation, oops, I mean conversation, are something like, “Are you hungry?” then you have gone too far. Expect your kid to run away.
7. And speaking of running away: Go away. I don’t mean what your kids are wishing you would do. No, I mean take a vacation, preferably with your teen since that’s the purpose of the break. Sometimes a change of scenery and a break from their routine helps kids regress a little and act like a kid again.

If you are really desperate you can always flip the main electrical breaker in the house and knock out the power and the wifi. Power outages can create a refreshing break from everyone heading to a separate corner with their respective devices. Of course, in order for this to really work, you would have to figure out a way to eliminate cell service, too…Clearly this one is a work in progress. I would start with 1-7 above.

How do you get your kids to talk? Let us know.

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If you have a kid who is applying to college you know that November 1 is the deadline to apply to most schools. Why November 1, you may have wondered, it seems so random? Well, I’ve decided it’s just another way to make Halloween much scarier. Sure, Halloween is full of frightening scenarios—haunted houses, slasher movies, costumes dripping with fake blood—but, nothing is as scary as dealing with your kids as they navigate the college application process.

It’s enough to give a parent nightmares.

Literally.

Last week, for instance, I dreamt that the University of Wisconsin at Madison denied my application for admission.

Denied! Not even wait listed!!

No matter how much I pleaded with the admissions officers they wouldn’t budge. It didn’t matter that I already had an undergrad degree—and a law degree!

“We are a very selective school,” the admissions officer reminded me. “You will have to do better.”

(FYI: I didn’t go to the University of Wisconsin, I didn’t apply to the University of Wisconsin, my son has not applied to the school nor does he want to go there so I’m not even sure why I’m dreaming about that school.)

As if that wasn’t bad enough, last night I had a dream that I was admitted to some nameless/faceless school but once I got there I couldn’t leave.

No matter what mode of transportation I chose, I couldn’t get off that campus: I fell down when I was running away, the car wouldn’t turn on, the elevator wasn’t working, the taxi I got in kept bringing me back to the dorm. You name it, it happened to me. I was in my very own clichéd horror movie.

So, you may ask, why am I having these nightmares? I’m not the one with the looming deadlines and the multiple essays yet to be written.

I’m having nightmares because somehow we parents have been roped into this process, a process that we have no business being part of. My parents didn’t even realize that I had sent in my college applications until I got my acceptance letters. They didn’t know what the essay topics were nor did they need to remind me to proof my application to check for stupid mistakes – that was all on me.

But now our kids talk to us about the process every step of the way. And, we parents get constant email updates from the high school’s college counselor’s office letting us know what our kids need to get done and when. Why can’t they just harass the students and leave us out of it??

I understand that the college admissions process has become ridiculously stressful for the students. Kids don’t apply to a couple of schools anymore; they apply to 10, or 12 or 15. And each application requires an essay (or three), and it really is a very big and very expensive decision. The kids are stressed and this stress is spilling into other areas of their lives—including the dreams of their parents.

Thankfully, this process will be over soon. Then I can go back to having dreams about him being away from home and nightmares about how I won’t be able to reach him…

*Originally published at Manilla.com on 10/31/13

If your college kid gets sick at school will he or she know what to do or will they just call you?

When my son texted me from school his freshman year to tell me he was sick I asked the requisite questions—fever? chills? sore throat?—and responded with a plan of action.

Sounds like the flu, I told him; take some Tylenol and rest. What I should have said was, “What do you think you need to do?” but it was an automatic mom response.

When a few days passed and I didn’t hear from him I thought all was well and he was managing.

Then he called.

I could barely hear him, his voice was so raspy and every word was punctuated with a deep, rattling cough.

“You have pneumonia,” I said. “You have to go to health services.” This led to a lengthy debate about how I don’t know anything (and yet, he was calling me to get some advice, so go figure).

“I don’t need to see a doctor,” he insisted. “I just need to know what I can take to stop the cough and bring down the fever. But,” he added. “I didn’t pack any meds.”

Seriously? I thought. What about that first aid kit full of medicine that I lovingly assembled that is probably shoved somewhere under your bed?

But I digress.

Instead I calmly explained over and over and over again that nothing was going to stop the cough because he clearly had pneumonia and he had to go to health services. When that didn’t work I threatened him with the only thing I had left – embarrassment: “Go to health services or I am coming there and taking you myself!”

He knows that I’m just crazy enough to drive there and drag him by his ear to the campus doctor so…

Four hours later he had a prescription for an antibiotic, multiple meds for his cough and an inhaler because, you guessed it, he had pneumonia.

My point in relaying this story is not to demonstrate my uncanny ability to diagnose major illnesses from a phone call but rather, that our kids probably have no idea how to take care of themselves when they first leave home. What if I had a kid who doesn’t call me? How sick would he have gotten before his roommate decided that he heard enough hacking all night? And more importantly, even if it was just the flu, a cold or some other minor illness shouldn’t my kid know what meds to take to ease his fever, congestion, pain without calling me?

And what if it’s something that needs immediate medical attention like an abscess in the throat, a mild stroke or an infected cut from getting battered against rocks while swimming in the Mediterranean? (All, by the way, actual injuries/illnesses that have occurred to my kid or a friend’s child in the past month while he or she was away at school.)

The problem is that when our kids are home and under our watchful eye they turn to “Dr. Mom (or Dad)” for guidance. We know they are sick so we dole out medications, offer TLC or take them to the doctor.

I never thought to involve my kids in the discussion and now I don’t know if they have really learned to navigate illness or injury when I’m not around.

This goes beyond knowing when to see a doctor. It’s about knowing when and what medications to take safely, having the medications on hand before you need them and knowing when to seek emergency help.

I want them to ask What Would Mom Do?

Here are just a few lessons that I’ve picked up over the past three years that I wish I taught my kid before he left for college:

1. Have a first aid/medicine kit and make sure they know what is in it, what the medications are for, and how to use them (and, in my son’s case, where it is in his room). It’s far better to have meds available when they are needed instead of relying on whatever medications some guy on their floor might have to ease their symptoms.

2. Teach them to call the local pharmacy – instead of you – to find out what medications can be combined and what can’t. Remind them that Dr. Google doesn’t always know.

3. Speaking of Dr. Google – I am so, so guilty of using the Internet whenever I have a medical question but I also know that you can find anything to back up your theory if you want to. I can’t tell you how many times my flu/cold/virus has been diagnosed as The Plague – all evidence to the contrary. Remind them that a real doctor is usually better than a virtual one.

4. Amazon and Instacart are your child’s friend for ordering last minute medications/tea/honey, etc. Again, it is way better to have them order what they are familiar with and they know they need than to rely on the “herbal remedy” their roommate wants them to try.

5. Remind them that if they are not getting better with whatever treatment they started, they should tell someone. If something seems wrong, they should tell someone. Teach them to be their own advocate (so they don’t have to call you!).

6. FINISH MEDICATIONS. The minute my son started feeling better after his bout with pneumonia he started to “forget” to take his antibiotics. Everyone does it. Just remind your kid that not finishing the antibiotics may result in a relapse or can lead to antibiotic resistance.

7. Make sure they know where the university health service offices are and how to schedule an appointment. My son pulled the “But I don’t know how to make an appointment,” whine with me. Yes, he could look it up once he gets sick but that’s so much effort(!).

8. Know where the counseling center is and how to get help for mental health issues. If they can’t or won’t seek help now is the time when it’s ok to call mom and dad or another trusted person.

9. When a major illness or accident strikes it would be nice to think that the school or hospital will call you, the parent, to alert you. They won’t. Legally they cannot give out information about anyone over the age of 18. Make sure you have these documents prepared and signed once your child turns 18 and well before your kid leaves for school. Don’t wait.

Just remember that most adults don’t seek the medical attention they need or know what medications to take when they are sick. We parents can only do so much – but we try.

Anything you would add? Let us know!

While many kids are heading to college this fall to start on a new adventure it’s good to remember that not everyone takes this “conventional” post-high school path.

And that’s ok.

It may be hard to accept, but our kids are on their own journeys and they need to find their own paths. But, maybe, just maybe, as our guest blogger, Christina Jones, found, part of that “different” path is not so different from yours after all.

Having a daughter who took a “different,” non-traditional path, has been a challenge to my own identity. She is my first-born and I was a young mother in my twenties with hopes and dreams (and expectations) when she was born. I was a bit of a rebel myself and often went the extra mile to resist conforming as a teen so I wanted my daughter to be spirited, too—a rebel—and to create her own path; I just didn’t expect her to surpass my own spirited nature and I certainly did not expect the range of emotions that “her path” would stir up in me.

I should have known what path my daughter would take when she was 4-years-old and she had a ballet recital. I had invited her grandparents (my father and his wife) and my oldest sister, who was the most conventional among my four sisters, to watch my adorable little ballerina. As all the little girls lined up towards the audience, their backs to the mirror along the wall, and began to perform the ballet moves they had practiced in sync with one another, my little one stood facing the mirror, back to the audience, and made faces in the mirror the entire time! I thought she was shy…yet, when I look back on other examples throughout her childhood, like wearing sparkly sandals with wool tights to church, or wanting to change her name to Brenda, or telling everyone when she was six that she was going to go to college in Bethlehem, that she was on her way to becoming the free spirit she is now.

I always considered myself an open-minded “hippie” (I was born in the 60’s after all!). I was the first in my family to live on campus at college in Chicago, the only one of all my sisters to take up weightlifting as a young teen with aspirations of being a body builder! I spent a semester abroad in college and married a free-spirited guy (outside my race, mind you) and spent a year backpacking through Europe, living in Greece and Ireland, and traveling everywhere in between, sleeping in tents and hostels and hiking through the mountains, teaching English to young children while my husband played guitar and made signs in calligraphy for any business that would pay for this lost art (did I mention he is her father?).

Never did I expect that 20 years later, my own daughter would make my escapades look conventional. When she was a junior in high school, she started to drop hints that she did not intend to go straight to college. I then, like the supportive, non-conventional (or so I thought) mother that I am, brought home brochures of gap year programs and suggested she take a year off to explore one of these programs. She was less than enthused; clearly I had missed what her intentions were. “I would never travel with an organized school program,” she declared.

I think I was still in denial.

I continued to make suggestions that included sending her to Greece to stay with relatives and sending her to a yoga retreat in upstate New York. Although she enjoyed these experiences, her itch was greater than mine ever was…or was it?

After graduating from high school, she called me on the phone and asked for her passport. When I asked why, she simply replied, “I am going to India.” After several more questions I realized that her plan did not go beyond that—no program, no mission work, no time-frame. I told my then 18-year-old that she did not have my blessing. Her response? “I don’t need your blessing, I just need my passport.”

At that point I thought about what my own mother would do. I could bribe my daughter with a car or offer to pay for sculpting lessons or plan a trip to India together so she could “get it out of her system.” None of these ideas were realistic, nor she did not care about those things anyway. When I told my family what she was planning, they said, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” I didn’t understand. I went to college straight after high school and then grad school, too. Sure I became a vegetarian and married outside my Greek culture and took off with a backpack and a tent with my new husband at 23. Sure I opted out of law school for a career in social work, but I was married and I had career goals and, and, and.

Then I realized: I created this. The more I said this out loud the more I started to feel proud of the young woman I had raised and proud of myself, too. She took off for India for several months and came back with the determination to work and save all her money to go back.

And she did.

She went back and has never come back.

Photo credit: Naomi Pongolini

No, she is not still in India; now she lives with her Italian boyfriend in Berlin, working and going to school (and, no, not a conventional university). Yet, now, when she called me upon enrolling in the program for naturopathic medicine and said “Mommy, I’m going to be a witch doctor, or when she Facetimes me to tell me she just got back from Croatia where sleeping on a hammock and not showering for a week at a time is when she feels most “at home,” I think to myself, “I created this” and “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.” She is her mother’s daughter and she represents, not only the rebelliousness I have in me, but also the courage, determination (and stubbornness) to do whatever she sets her mind to. Her experiences go beyond what I have ever done—she is still, after all, on her own path, far different from mine—but there is a part of me that lives vicariously through her…awaiting to hear about her next adventure.

Photo credit: Naomi Pongolini

Christina Jones is a psychotherapist and a mother of five in a blended family. She writes about challenges (big or small) that individuals, couples and families face in this journey called life! www.christinajoneslcsw.com