Posts Tagged ‘teenagers’

6 Nov

Parenting Disconnect

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, children, family, kids, parenting, payphones, reading a map, teaching. Tagged: , , , , , , , , .

Of all the things that I thought I would need to teach my children, using a payphone never broke the top 500.

Why would I need to teach them to use a payphone? Doesn’t the phone have instructions written on it? Who doesn’t know how to use a payphone?

But then I read an article in the Wall Street Journal about how New Yorkers needed pay phones due to the spotty cell phone service and lack of power in the wake of Hurricane Sandy’s recent devastation. Apparently, many 20-somethings had never used a payphone before and they weren’t sure what to do.

I was appalled at first but the more I thought about it the more I realized that I have not needed to use a payphone in over 20 years so why would someone 20 years my junior need to?

And, more importantly, why would my kids need to use one?

In the time it would take my kids to find a working pay phone they could ask someone to use a cell phone unless, like the people in New York and New Jersey, there was no cell service or no electricity to charge their phones.  I know that my kids would figure it out but it made me realize that what I needed to explain was the finer points of making a collect call (because, really, who has change for a call anyway?).  I don’t think my kids have ever needed to call an operator or even know what an operator does.

To test my theory, I just asked my 12-year-old how to call the operator:

Me: “If you needed to call the phone operator what would you do?”

My Kid: “Why would I need to call the operator?”

Me:  “Humor me. What would you do?”

Kid: “I guess I would push ‘O’. But why?”

Me:  “What if you didn’t have any money but you needed to make a phone call?”

Kid: “Why would I need money to make a phone call?”

Me: “What if you didn’t have a charged cell phone?”

Kid: “I would ask someone if I could borrow theirs.”

Me: “What if you weren’t with anyone and you needed to use a payphone?”

Kid: “Where would I find a payphone? Couldn’t I just find a store that is open and ask them to use the phone? I’m a kid, they would let me.”

At least I know he’s thinking.

All of this made me wonder about all of the other things that I never thought that I would need to teach my kids. I don’t mean programming the VHS recorder or slicing a mango with just a knife,

I’m talking about skills that I never thought my kids would need given our technological advancements but maybe I should teach them anyway. Here are just a few:

  1. How to read a map. My kids think that GPS is all you need but there have been plenty of times when the very pleasant voice on my phone is telling me to turn left but doing so would land me in someone’s front yard. Besides, as we all know, cell service is not a given.
  2. How to use an encyclopedia (and do research) that is not on-line. I know this is something they should learn at school but I swear I haven’t seen my kids go to the library to do research since 2nd grade. Besides, I love encyclopedias. I used to read them for fun (seriously). Using a microfiche machine would also fall into this category.
  3. How to use a phone book. My kids probably don’t know where they are or why they would use one when they have access to computers, smart phones and tablets. But what if they are stuck at a diner/gas station/truck stop in the middle of nowhere and they need to use a payphone to call for a hotel room/ tow truck/food delivery? Yes, they can read so, yes, they could figure it out but forcing them to look up a number in the phone book might not be such a bad thing.
  4. How to use a fax machine. My 12-year-old and I were watching the movie, Air Force One, and one of the characters used a fax machine to send a message to the White House because the fax machine was on a separate line from the phones. My son asked whether anyone uses a fax machine anymore. My mother and father-in-law still have one but we don’t.  I just scan, .pdf and email. I have, however, needed to fax something so maybe the kids should know how…just in case they find themselves without the ability to scan, .pdf and email.
  5. How to start a fire without matches, a gas-powered cook top or a lighter. No power. No gas. Freezing temperatures. Enough said.
  6. How to sit at dinner without pulling out your smart phone. Ok, this one is not an actual skill (or maybe it is) but it is a necessity. I was at brunch with my kids the other day and neither one of them could sit still and have a conversation without texting or having a screen in front of them. Granted, the adults eventually pulled out their phones but I’m sure the adults could engage in conversation even if they didn’t have an app to fall back on (at least I hope we could).

What would be on your list of skills that you thought you would never have to teach your kids?

 

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21 Oct

Strike Back

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, children, family, kids, parenting, Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , .

Have you heard about the mom who went on strike? For six days, Jessica Stilwell, mother of three girls, refused to pick-up, clean up, or otherwise wash anything for her daughters in the hope that they would simply do it themselves. Sure, they eventually broke down and cleaned the mess but only after six days of forcing their family to live in squalor. Who wants to live through that??

I’ve often dreamed of going on strike except in my dream I run away.

I run away to a beautiful tropical island where I don’t have to look at six days worth of dishes in the sink or clothes on the couch. If I’m going to teach my kids a lesson I might as well do it in comfort.

But, alas, fleeing to a tropical locale is not always a realistic option. That’s why I’ve come up with a new solution: throw out your back!

 

No plane ticket required; just a lack of mobility and a hefty doctor’s bill (unless you’ve met your insurance deductible for the year, then your golden).

Sure it’s painful; but it has an upside: even if you want to clean up, you can’t. Ms. Stilwell had to fight her natural impulses to scrub, organize and scream. I get to escape to my room and lay on the floor, no questions asked.

I really can’t push a vacuum cleaner or empty a dishwasher and, although, I suppose I could assemble a meal (or at least pick up the phone to order one) why would I do that?

I don’t want to give them hope.

Which reminds me; don’t let them see you doing ANY housework. Don’t wipe down the counters, or let the dog out or even fluff a pillow. They are looking for signs that you are improving. If you can put away the cereal box, then obviously, you are well enough to do the laundry. Don’t give them hope (this, by the way, applies to your spouse as well).

If you opt for this plan, however, make sure at least one of your children sees you writhing in pain. There is no substitute for this. If they only see you limping around or moving slowly, they may know you are in pain, but it may not be enough pain to prevent you from making them lunch.

Unfortunately, only my youngest saw me injure myself while taking off my boots. (Yes, taking off my boots did me in, and, no, I’m not 80-years-old). My subsequent screams were enough to reduce my 12-year-old to tears. Now, if he sees me lean forward to get something or I simply ask him to do something he jumps to my aid.

My oldest, on the other hand, missed the show. He came home after I was already tucked in bed at 8:30 at night. Although that did seem disturbing to him, it clearly wasn’t enough for him to really understand the extent of my pain. The following day I actually had to text him from my prone position on the family room floor to get him to let our barking dog in.

He was sitting 15 feet away.

Yelling for him didn’t work because he had his ear buds in and the music was so loud that even I could hear it. Now, normally, if I need him to do something and his ear buds are in I have two options:  walk up to him and yank an ear bud out or—as is more often the case—I simply do whatever it is myself. This time, however, I didn’t have much of a choice. So I sent him a text.

I saw him lean around the corner to see why I was texting him from 15 feet away. I looked him in the eye as I reached for my back and moaned. Unfair, I know, but, come on! I’m on the floor!

He only bitched for a little of the 20 foot walk to the door.

At that moment I actually considered recreating my back spasm so he, too, could witness the extent of my injury. One pull on my cowboy boots or a quick twist to the right and bam! Maybe that would be enough to make him stop complaining. But, no, even I’m not that much of a masochist.

Or aren’t I…

Did I just hear my youngest mutter that he doesn’t have any clean clothes to wear? Where are my boots?

3 Oct

Decisions, Decisions

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, kids, parenting. Tagged: , , , , .

I need your opinion.

Am I a bad mom if I let my son go to a party? A party where it was likely that some kids would be drinking alcohol and that I could only guess would eventually be broken up by the police because high school parties haven’t changed much since I was in high school? Have I set a dangerous precedent where I can no longer revoke his party going privileges??

My 16-year-old (who is a junior in high school) asked if he could drive to a party this past weekend. He told me who was having the party and somewhere in the back of my mind I remembered hearing something about this kid and his parties.

I asked my son if the kid’s parents were going to be home. He didn’t know.

I asked my son if there would be alcohol. He didn’t know.

I chose to believe that he really didn’t know and I let him go.

Thankfully the police were already lining the streets when he pulled up to the party so he didn’t have to formulate an exit plan while he was there.

A friend of mine said that having the police at the party before he got there was a good lesson because next time my son will think, “All parties are eventually broken up by the police.”

I’m worried that my son and his friends were thinking, “Next time we need to get to the party before the cops come.”

My son has been to “parties” before; parties where they serve Arnold Palmers and pizza. If only every party he will attend would be this innocent. But they usually aren’t.

I’ve had several parents tell me that they heard about “the party” and in the same breath tell me that their kids would never go to a party like that. Too bad these are the same kids who were texting my son from the party (he showed me the texts).

See, I let my son go because he told me he was going. He could have lied and told me that he was going to a friend’s house and gone to the party anyway (like most of the kids). But he didn’t. He told me the address of the party, he told me the friend he was going with and he gave me his friend’s cell phone number.

He also texted us when he got to the party and told us about the cops on the street.

What other junior in high school is going to do that?

Before he left for the party I laid out the rules. Even though I know he doesn’t drink or do drugs, my mantra was the same: No drinking, no drugs, and if the cops show up—leave. (See, he’s the kid who would go talk to the police and try to help…and probably get arrested).

His response: “Mom, please. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I’m 16.”

I’m still laughing about that one.

When he got home he gave me the play-by-play. I heard about the police, the ambulance (???!), the fight in the parking lot of the pizza parlor where he and his friends eventually ended up, the kid with the pot at the party (!). I heard it all – or at least 2/3 (ok maybe 50%). But still, he was talking.

That’s not to say that I believe that he will always tell me everything or he will never get in trouble or he will never do anything stupid. (Please, he is stupid – he’s 16).

But for now, I think that I can trust him so I give him a bit of a longer leash – until I think I have to pull back.

Before he went up to his room, I hugged him – he’s so naïve that he actually thought I was only saying goodnight and didn’t notice me sniffing him like a police dog. I may trust him but I’m not stupid.

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27 Aug

Freaky Friday

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, children, family, kids, parenting, Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , .

This is a five-minute segment of texts from this past Friday night:

9:25:What time am I picking you up?

9:27:??

9:28:Why aren’t you picking up your phone????

9:30:Where are you?

Couple those texts with three missed calls during the same five-minute period and it seems like a typical Friday night exchange between parent and teen. Only these texts and calls were from my 16-year-old to me.

So uncool.

Let me rewind a couple of hours.

I went to a party at a friend’s house Friday night and I mentioned to my son that he might need to pick me up. I didn’t want to drive to the party because I wanted to be able to have a glass of wine with dinner and my husband was out of town. With no designated driver my options were limited to bumming a ride home with someone who would probably be drinking (not a good idea), calling a cab (which seemed silly for a two mile drive) or walking the two miles home which would normally be fine only my friend’s house is in an area that is on a stretch of winding road with no sidewalk.  It’s scary enough to drive there at night let alone walk that area.

That’s when I had my epiphany: my 16-year-old could pick me up. What good is having a built-in designated driver if you can’t take advantage of him?

I knew that he wasn’t doing anything terribly exciting that he couldn’t tear himself away from for 15 minutes so why not. Right?

Fast forward a few hours…

I had been at the party for a couple of hours when I finally heard my cell phone ringing.

 

“Where have you been?” he yelled into the phone when I finally answered.

  Shit. I’m going to be grounded.

I swear that was my first thought. That’s how much he sounded like my mother.

“I thought you wanted me to pick you up,” he continued in the same raised voice.

At no point did I want to snap at him and tell him that I was the parent and he couldn’t tell me what to    do. Instead I was thinking, Whoa, dude, chill. I’m at a party and you are ruining my fun.

I had to  suppress a laugh.

“Come get me in a half hour,” I finally responded. I hadn’t planned to stay at the party very long anyway and I figured it was the least that I could do since my oldest had let his little brother tag along to his friend’s house.

37 minutes later.

I felt my phone vibrating and I saw this:

10:04 – “Mom, please come up. I can’t be parked where I am.”

10:05 – “?”

10:06 – “Are you coming up??”

10:07 – “We’re coming down to get you.”

Whaddya mean you’re coming down to get me??

I turned just in time to see my youngest son coming down the stairs to the party.

I was a bit mortified. People were looking. How embarrassing!!

I shooed him away, said my goodbyes and reluctantly marched up the stairs to the waiting car.  My son was now rolling down the passenger window and glaring at me.

“I’ve been waiting for 15 minutes,” he said as I climbed into the car. “And he,” jerking his thumb at my youngest in the back seat. “He needs to go to bed. He’s been yawning.”

OMG! My son had morphed into the parent.

There are times when I look at my mom and wonder when she became the child and I became the adult. I didn’t expect my son to step into the role of parent until he was at least 30. And, yet, here he was, lecturing me the whole way home about how he had to wait for me and it was late and his little brother needed to go to bed. I felt myself sinking lower in my seat, suddenly feeling like a teenager who broke curfew.

Which is why I didn’t call him the following afternoon when I needed a ride after my post-pedicure birthday mojito. He can be such a buzz kill.

15 Jul

Separation Anxiety

Posted by I suck as a parent in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , .

Three days ago my oldest son landed in Costa Rica. I thought that it would be the first time—ever—that he and I would go more than a day without communicating. Everyone told me that cell service was basically non-existent in the cloud forest. There was also no WiFi in the rooms where he was staying so if he needed to communicate with me he would have to email me from the student area.

He does not send email.

He considers anything longer than a six-word text essentially writing a novel, so, I had prepared myself for limited communication.

And then I got this email:

“I’m not in the same room as [the kids I’m traveling with] but that’s ok, I’ve made other friends…There’s no WiFi in the rooms so this is the last email that I am going to send. Love you! Bye”

It was like a knife through my heart. That’s it? I won’t get anything for the rest of the trip? He’s never been away from me for two weeks and certainly we’ve never gone two weeks without speaking. And now, nothing? I forwarded the email to my friend and wrote: “I’ve lost my baby…” (Very dramatic, I know).

I’d gone through this with my 12-year-old when he went away to summer camp but at least at his summer camp the counselors made him write home – even when he didn’t want to. And, they posted pictures of the campers so I could see if he was smiling and, most importantly, he was in this country.

My 16-year-old was in a jungle in Central America without me.

I was a bit shocked by his ability to separate from me so easily. This is the kid who checks in with me all of the time, the kid who has never wanted to be away from home for an extended period of time, and, yet now, he’s gone. Just like that.

I wallowed in my sadness for a bit but then I realized that this was what I expected and, most importantly, what I wanted.

I settled in with my book for the night when I heard a call coming in on Skype.

Really? I had just accepted the fact that I wasn’t going to hear from him and now he’s Skyping?

I almost emailed my friend to say: “Never mind. He’s back.”

He wanted to tell us about the giant tarantula in the common area and the scorpions scurrying around the rooms. You’re in a jungle, I wanted to remind him. Instead I said, “That’s so cool! Now go to bed.”

An hour later…

The phone rings.

WTF! (It’s amazing what a difference an hour makes.)

This time he wanted to tell us that he had switched rooms because there was a scorpion the size of a baseball cap in the other room.

Creepy? Without a doubt. But still, not an emergency.

I tried to remain pleasant—he was nervous about sleeping in a bed of scorpions—I get it, but I ended the conversation with this reminder: “You really shouldn’t be calling me. It’s very expensive. If it’s an emergency call me, but if not, send us an email. You’ll be fine.”

Nine hours later:

“Hi mom! I got some sleep.”

Remember when I wanted him to call? Well, now I didn’t.

I want him to be independent. He’s going to college in two years and I really don’t want him to have to call me every day. I want him to NOT want to call me – even if I want him to call me. Get it?

When he hung up he was mad at me for reprimanding him about calling. I chose the tough love approach. If I don’t shove him away, will he ever be ready to leave?

Twelve hours later…

Nothing.

I checked email, made sure I was still logged in on Skype and checked my texts.

Nothing.

Remember when I said that I didn’t want to hear from him? Well, I was wrong.

He can’t even send a text? I know that I told him not to call but he never listens to me; why would he start now?

I know I sound crazy but I’m struggling with my need to let go and my desire to hold on for dear life. I know that my job is to teach my kids to be on their own. I do not want them living in my basement when they are thirty but the alternative could be that they are living somewhere else and I never see them.

How do you navigate that fine line? How do you get your kids to want you around but not so much that they can’t function without you?

An hour later…

I hear the beep of Skype.

Damn, I really thought he wasn’t going to call.

Ah well, here we go again…

 

 

 

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30 Jun

What Were They Thinking?

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, children, kids, parenting, Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , .

As my youngest son and I were driving to the doctor’s office in our local hospital we began reminiscing about the time that I was racing to catch up to the ambulance carrying him to the same hospital after he hit his forehead at a local swimming pool (see #1 below). This got me thinking about some of the other, perhaps not as urgent, moments in my two boys’ young lives that resulted in injuries. I laughed a little as I looked back at these moments because these particular injuries were really just so ridiculous. I can’t imagine any girls being injured in the same ways (Maybe I’m wrong. Please tell me if I am).

Of course, I blamed myself for every one of these injuries (“If only I had been there when he decided to sled down an icy stairway!” “If only I had taught them that metal chairs hurt when you land on them from a high vertical jump!”) But, I realized after reviewing this list, that all of the lessons that they’ve learned and all the nagging that I’ve done wouldn’t have prevented any of these injuries because boys do mind-boggling things. I was simply “letting” my boys be boys.

So, here is my top ten list of stupid things that my kids have done and the resultant injury. And, just so you know, I was only present for two of them—#2 and #3—and I couldn’t have stopped either one of them if I tried:

#1 – Running into a pole in the middle of the kiddie pool. (result: 5 stitches. Also, the club has now banned anyone over the age of 5 from the kiddie pool);

#2 – Running in the house while looking behind him and turning just in time to meet the corner of the door jamb (broken nose);

#3 – Jumping up for no apparent reason and landing chin first on the back of a metal kitchen chair (3 stitches);

#4 – Sledding down the neighbor’s ice-covered front stairs. The sled continued on but his head stayed behind and hit the concrete stairs (CT scan, no concussion);

#5 – Playing soccer in the street—barefoot—and kicking at a ball that was right along the curb (broken toe, lost toe nail);

#6 – Playing soccer in the 3 1/2 foot wide upstairs hallway—barefoot—and kicking at the door jamb instead of the ball (broken toe);

#7 – Getting shot point-blank in the ear with a high-powered water gun during a water gun fight (punctured eardrum);

#8 – Lying across the top of a large ride-on truck and pushing himself straight into the dog’s elevated metal water bowl (broken nose);

#9 – Getting shot in the neck while playing paint ball without a neck guard  (a lot of bleeding and a big scar, physically and probably emotionally as well);

And, my personal favorite:

#10 – Shooting himself in the leg with an air-soft gun to prove that air-soft guns don’t hurt (they really do and, they leave a mark).

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6 Jun

A Few Words of Wisdom (or Bugs, Volcanoes and Fiery Car Crashes…What? Me Worry?)

Posted by I suck as a parent in boys, family, kids, parenting, Summer travel, Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , .

This is my first guest blog. Well, technically it’s not a blog; it’s an email that a friend of mine sent to me and another friend of ours. Our older boys are going to Costa Rica this summer for a couple of weeks. They will be traveling with a very well-respected program and yet, we parents (ok, some of us parents) tend to lean toward catastrophic thinking when it comes to our kids. After we signed up for this trip two things happened: first, the lead story on Yahoo News last week was about the prevalence in Costa Rica of Chagas, a bug whose bite leads to symptoms that mimic the early stages of AIDS and HIV, and, of course, has no cure; and, second, I read that the Turrialba volcano is set to erupt at any moment in Costa Rica which could have significant impact on travel conditions—either the boys will never get in the country or, more disconcerting, the boys won’t get out of the country and they will be living with bugs that cause an incurable infection. Add to this that all three of our boys just started driving and you have a pretty incredible stew of crazy on your hands.

My friend’s email came in response to the latest email frenzy regarding volcanoes and icky bugs and several teenagers recently killed in fiery car crashes. Her email was a wonderful reminder of what our role as parents really is and how little we can control everything:

‘I just learned that a sorority sister of mine (my age, with a 21-year-old son), lost her son in a car accident recently.  He was driving onto the highway in Burr Ridge [Illinois] late at night (a Friday night), and got hit by a truck.  Incredibly sad.

I still believe my kids have a higher probability of being hit by the Domino’s delivery car that comes tearing down our street every Friday/Saturday night as the kids continuously cross the street to play “Ghost in the Graveyard,” but I would never tell them to stop playing this game. I keep telling them to be careful and watchful.

The more experiences we give our kids, the better prepared they will be for life. If we lock them away in our warm, safe homes, they’ll stay children forever.  I tell myself this constantly.  When I was pregnant with my oldest and reading all sorts of parenting books, I came across a book that I’ll always remember.  Its thesis was that from the moment you give birth, your purpose and responsibility as a parent is to prepare your child to leave you.  As cold and hard as that sounded to me, it resonated with me because it made so much sense.

As for the bugs and parasites in Costa Rica, I reminded my son that he’s been through something similar and survived.  When he was 3, we took him to Jamaica and he came back with Subcutanious Larva Migron on his bottom and on the bottoms of his feet.  He was famous at Children’s Memorial Hospital for a while as they showed his butt and feet to all the doctors and interns who were not familiar with these microscopic worms that live and burrow just under the skin and are common in lesser-developed countries. Apparently, the cats there have these worms in their poop. My son and I played in the sand on the beach. There was a two-inch stream of water coming from the land next to the hotel and it cut through the sand and into the ocean. Stray cats must have pooped in the sand next to this stream of water. My son and I put our feet in this seemingly clean water and sat in the damp sand near it. When we got home, his butt looked like it had little red veins running through it…

…Hopefully, [the boys] will use good judgment and common sense, and watch out for each other…and have an incredible time, and have many wonderful stories to tell us when they get back.  I can’t wait to hear the stories…’

5 Apr

Omnipotence is a Bitch

Posted by I suck as a parent in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , .

I remember when my kids were little and they thought that I was all-powerful. I could make bumped heads feel better with a kiss, I knew the answers to almost every question they asked, and I always knew exactly what could make them laugh.

I was amazing back then.

But now, even though my kids are convinced that I know nothing and they know with the utmost certainty that I have no super powers, I am—seemingly—still responsible for everything…including the weather.

Yesterday morning my 16-year-old snapped at me because it was only going to be 63 degrees – in April! In Chicago! Instead of the unseasonably warm temperatures that we had been having of late it was going to be a normal April day. And that was somehow my fault.

“Mom,” my son yelled from the top of the stairs. “Is it warm today?”

“It’s supposed to be about 60 degrees,” I responded as I walked upstairs.

“What?!” he shrieked. “60 degrees. Why?” he asked, shooting me an accusing stare. “Why?”

I actually felt guilty for a second, as if I really did have something to do with the temperature.

This was on the heels of the “why do you make me go to school at 8:15?” accusation. At the time, part of me wondered if it was, indeed, within my control to set the start time for school.

I had to shake that one off as well.

I let him rant about the injustice of his 16-year-old, suburban life and chalked up his mood swing to a lack of sleep or a hormone imbalance or whatever teenage issue was pushing out any shred of logic or reason in his brain.

I said nothing because I knew that anything I said could and would be used against me on the 8-minute car ride to school.  Besides, I clearly needed more coffee to endure another onslaught.

But he was not done.

“It’s Wednesday,” he grunted just one minute into the car ride.

[pause]

I noticed him turning toward me and I could feel him glaring at me accusingly. Was he really going to blame me for it being Wednesday?

Really?

“Why do I have to go to school on Wednesdays?” he asked, his voice rising in disbelief.

I laughed. Out loud. Actually it was more of a guffaw.

But really, what else is there to do when your kid poses such a ridiculous question?

Even if I said, “You don’t need to go to school on Wednesdays anymore,” he would just respond with, “Well, if I don’t go on Wednesday then Thursday would become Wednesday so then Thursdays would suck.” And so on, and so on, and so on.

He didn’t see the humor in all of this but that didn’t matter. Parenting, for me, is all about perception; that is, how I perceive the situation. A good spin can make anything look better. And boy was I going to spin this one—it was either that or bang my head against the steering wheel.

We finally made it to the school without further incident (well, there was that moment when he got mad at the people walking their dogs on the sidewalk so slowly, but at least he didn’t blame me for that).

As he got out of the car he looked at me and shook his head (because I was still smirking, of course). “You are so moody,” he said. And with that, he was off.

Ah, if only I was all-powerful…

 

 

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