Raising Teens

I have two almost 15-year-olds. When they were little I remember hearing people say, “Little kids, little problems. Big kids, big problems.” I thought they were crazy. I imagined a time when I could run to the store without a car seat in each hand. When they could cut their own food and would actually eat it so I could eat my dinner.

I imagined sitcom-like exchanges amongst them and their friends in my spotless kitchen after school. In my head they would be perfectly self-sufficient young people, capable of making the right choice at the right time.

I could hardly wait. It seemed so easy.

I am ready to admit that I was wrong. It is not easy. Being a parent to a teenager makes you question everything you thought you knew about raising children. It makes you wonder where you went wrong when they were little and why on earth you decided to have them in the first place.

You will also spend lots of time wondering how a boy who was once so sweet and cute can smell so bad. Or how a girl who once loved only you can look at you with the kind of disdain you reserve only for skinny women with perfect shoes.

There are no clear guidelines on raising teenagers. They are individuals, struggling to figure out the world and their place in it. As a parent, your job is to be there when they want you to be there.

Be there, when THEY want you to be there.

My Aunt Jan, who raised six daughters, told me that you have to be around all the time for teenagers. That way, when they are ready to talk, they’ll talk to you, if not they’ll talk to someone else. I would amend that to say they’ll talk to their friends and all their friends are stupid.

Seriously, every one of them. My children have friends who I love. Friends who are welcome in my home every day, any time. But they’re teenagers and they’re stupid.

My teenagers are stupid too.

When you have teenagers, the hardest but most important thing you will do is let go. When they want to go to the movies with their friends, at some point you have to let them. If they want to walk up to the soccer field by themselves, or worse in a car with another teen at the wheel, you have to let them.

They might act like fools in the movie theater. They might use language that you find appalling. They might drive faster than necessary, without wearing a seat belt.

Then again, they might not.

All you can do is hope. Hope you’ve loved them enough and taught enough to be brave in the face of peer pressure. Smart. Kind.

You will not always be confident that you have succeeded. If you’re anything like me you will spend hours worrying, crying, reading parenting blogs and books. Hoping for some sign that you did it right.

Then one morning your son will go to church with you and you’ll realize he is wearing clothes you would have picked out. But you didn’t. You’ll overlook the fact that his pants are hanging a little bit low. He’ll ask if he can light a candle for your sick dog. You’ll notice that the adults at your church smile when they see him and your daughter. That they want to talk to them.

You’ll realize that your kids have great manners. That even though they give you the stink eye 23 hours a day, they do actually know how to act out in the real world.

Try not to cry. It will just embarrass them.

I was walking a friend through the process of setting up a Facebook account and had just said, “The most important thing to know is that everything you post on your wall or anyone else’s can be viewed by everyone who likes you,” when a little popup appeared notifying me that my 13 year old son Keenan had updated his status.

“Keenan is horny.”

“I’ll call you back,” I said.

I reread Keenan’s status and saw that his younger brother’s friend had already read and commented on Keenan’s status with, “Wow.” Panic set in as I begin imagining all of the parents of our kids’ friends reading about my 13 year old son’s desire to have sex with their daughters. I started to write a comment of my own that went something like this, “You are soooooo grounded you…”, but remembered reading an article about Facebook no-nos if you want your kids not to hide their account from you and decided against it.

Instead, I formulated a brilliant plan. One that would mortify my son beyond words. One that would cause him to think these things through in the future and NEVER embarrass himself or his loving mother on Facebook again.

I picked up my cell phone and with a grin that maker’s the Joker’s look pretty, I texted him these four words, “How horny are you?”

I could barely contain my giggles.

That’s right kid. Don’t ever underestimate the reach of a mother’s eyes.

Within seconds, Quick Draw Mcgraw hit me back with, “WHAT????????”

As if. Now I was fuming. How dare that little twit act like he didn’t know anything about it. I could see his circle face in my head. That’s the one where his eyes and his mouth are all open at perfectly gaping proportions causing him to look like he has three circles on his face. That is his lying face. Every. Single. Time.

Feeling quite smug, I texted him back, “I saw what you posted on Facebook.”

He responded with, “What are you TALKING about???????????????????????”

It was at this point I began to feel a little tightness in my chest and my breathing started to get more labored than the day I delivered him because this one tiny thought popped into my little pee brain. Is it possible he didn’t post it?

I sheepishly texted him, “Ummmmmm. You see, your Facebook update says you are….well, ummmmm, you know….horny.”

Then there is a mortifyingly long wait and I get this text. “OMG. I would NEVER put that on my Facebook. My friend did it. I checked my Facebook on his phone and forgot to log out. OMG. I can’t believe you text me that.”

Sweet blindness causing mother texts. My unsuspecting teen was walking along innocently with his friends, all smiley faced and happy to be alive, when he looked down and without any provocation or warning, received a text from his mother asking, “How horny are you?”

I spent the rest of the afternoon wondering how in God’s name my child would ever be able to look me in the face again without needing to run to the bathroom and empty the contents of his most recent meal. I picked him up at his bus stop and was encouraged to see that he made eye contact with me without turning three shades of green as he departed the bus.

He tossed his backpack into the back of the car, came around to the front, opened the door, took one look at my, “I am such an idiot” face and busted out laughing until tears were streaming down his face. I joined in and we sat there for several minutes laughing so hard we could barely breath. Which was clearly fake laughter intended to ensure we didn’t have to speak to each other. We didn’t.

As I drifted off to sleep that night, I kept thinking the same thing over and over again, “No 13 year old boy should EVER receive a text from his mother saying, ‘How horny are you?’”

This post is the post that started Ooph. Well, more precisely, it is the moment that made me realize parenting teens was not something I was going to be naturally good at. I would need to study, do homework and most importantly, rethink every text I would ever send to my teens EVER again.

1. I don’t have to bug them to take a shower. Teenage boys want to look and smell good. No more fights to force them to actually wash their bodies. They have girls to impress!

2. I can curse in front of them. For me, the mom with the potty mouth, this is a huge benefit. If I let the F-bomb slip, instead of receiving a judgmental, “Mommy said a bad word” I’ll likely receive a high-five.

3. I don’t need to buy them clothes. Three rotating outfits will be fine. They care about how they look, but not THAT much. And their clothes pretty much work year-round. T-shirt and shorts are status quo, and when it’s real cold, a pair of jeans or athletic pants and they’re all set.

4. I don’t have to have “the talk” with them. Yeah, I’m leaving all the embarrassing discussions to Dad. He can review puberty, shaving, and any talk about testicles with them. Sorry, not my department.

5. They’re never too cool to hug their mom. They may go through a few years where hugging dad feels awkward, but mom never gets rejected.

6. If I don’t feel like talking, I can get away with it. Teenage boys are not the most prolific creatures. Sometimes grunts and one-word answers are all you’ll get. And if I’m in a bad mood or it’s before 7am, I’m the same way and essentially mute. My boys never even notice.

7. They are stronger and taller, so I have a built-in helper. Need something off the top shelf? Need some furniture moved? No problem! A teenage boy seems to happily oblige if it means showing off their new and improved muscles.

8. I can finally have privacy in the bathroom. Nothing scares a teenage boy more than seeing his mom naked. He will do anything and everything to avoid this from happening. You can enjoy long, hot showers or take a magazine to the porcelain “throne” and I can promise you, you won’t be disturbed like you were when they were younger.

9. I can read their minds. If one of my teens is upset or stressed or worried, I can see it immediately. Teenage boys may hold it together for their friends, but in front of mom, they are as transparent as water.

10. I can feed them Hot Pockets, frozen dinners, or leftover Chinese food and they won’t care. Teenage boys are hungry all the time, so as long as you keep a steady stream of food going into them, they won’t care if it’s home-cooked or straight from the box. Carbs are carbs and that’s all that matters to them.

As of now, I’ve got no complaints being a mom to teenage boys. But, one year from now when my oldest will be learning to drive, my list will change and so will my attitude. Please send me valium now, because that’s one teenage milestone I’d rather not face.

1. Have the passwords to your kids social media platforms and emails. Use them to do periodic checks. Sexting, bullying and all sorts of other frightening things take place behind the curtain. Make sure your child isn’t involved.

2. Make an effort to know the parents of your child’s friends. ESPECIALLY if you are going to allow sleepovers. You need to trust that your child is safe and held to the same rules at someone else’s home as they are yours. Do they have a curfew? Do they allow the opposite sex over? Will they be home? Do they take the kids keys at night so they can’t sneak out? Do they set a house alarm? All things you would like to know.

3. Take away all access to the internet and friends at bedtime. Computers, ipads, cell phones, etc. Your child needs sleep. You need to facilitate that. Left to their own devices (pun intended) they will be online until the wee hours of the night. And? Nothing good happens in the wee hours of the night. Nothing.

4. Check their texts periodically. For the same reason as you would check their online presence you need to check their texts. A good time to do that is when you remove the phone at bedtime. Start with the photos.

5. Sit down to a family dinner at least a couple nights every week. Don’t just eat. Talk.  If you are stumped for things to talk about, check out Table Talk. Make it fun, not an interrogation. The more you talk with your kids about the silly stuff the more likely they will be to talk with you about the serious stuff.

6. Listen to your kids. In general of course, but most importantly, in the car with friends. Offer to drive them and their friends often. Keep the radio low and listen. You will gain a wealth of information.

7. Listen to their music. There are some interesting messages being given to your children via today’s music. You won’t stop them from listening to the music they want to listen to. But if you know the lyrics to the songs you can use those to create Songnversations.

8. Lead by example. Don’t text and drive. Don’t drink and drive. Shut your social media down and smell the roses. And on and on and on.

9. Teach them the value of giving. Involve them in a charity. Do charity work with them. Nothing feels as good as giving. Make sure you teach them that.

10. Call. If your child is in someone else’s hands. CALL. If they ask to go to a party? Call the parents. If they ask to sleepover at a friend’s house. Call. My son is a junior in high school and I still call. It could very well save their life.