What a "clean room" means to a teenager

The Before...

We just had yet another round about the room. But this time, I didn't yell or even get mad.  I was too busy laughing.

Why? Because the absurdity of what a teen can call a "clean" room just hit me. Maybe it's because I haven't been sleeping well, and I'm punchy. But it was all too funny to do anything but laugh..

For those of you new to this parent thing, you might not understand. Let me put it in simple terms. Two year olds make a mess. Teenagers give F4 tornadoes a run for their money. 

And then they "clean" it up. And that's where the real fun starts. We had that particular breed of fun just tonight. But I was laughing to hard to haul out the camera, so use your imagination. Here goes...

According to the alternate-reality world of teenager-hood, a clean room may include:

• Five assorted glasses, cups and mugs
• Three plates and two bowls
• My favourite tea pot, the one I said must never, ever, ever, under any circumstances go further than the dining room  (because it was a wedding present and cost more that I could ever possibly justify spending for a tea pot!) 
• Three pairs of shoes in the hall just outside of the door
• Two belts on the same hall floor
• A floor under the bed which was home to a half dozen power cords and headphones, several food  wrappers, an apple core and at least two magazines. 
• A pile of "I don't know what to do with this" stuff that covers about a 2' x 2' square of carpet
• A dresser top that I know is there only because I can remember what it looks like from when we moved in.
• Ditto the bedside table top
• Ditto the desk top
• An unmade bed piled with at least half of the blankets, quilts and pillows we own (she likes to make a "nest" to sleep in...oh, wait. She got that trait from me. Never mind...)

I walked in, because she wanted me to see the "clean room". My husband, who had beaten me to the punch, was laying on the floor, laughing. I could not help but joining in. So we giggled. And my daughter giggled. And her friend, who was "helping" her clean, giggled. 

And when we finished laughing, she put on the two belts, and two of the pairs of shoes that had been in the hall (one pair on feet, one on hands), then picked up the long-since outgrown little girl purse from the dresser and announced she was ready to go to Wendy's for a Frosty. as a reward for cleaning her room. 

So.....Dishes removed, space under the bed cleared and vacuumed and the desk somewhat exposed, my husband took the girls to Wendy's for those Frostys

Yeah, according to the "Great and Powerful Oz", or "The Book of Really Good Parenting" (which I am sure exists, but I never did find a copy), we are bad parents.  We should have refused to play along until the room was genuinely clean. We should have used it as an object lesson for responsibility and natural consequences and all the other things the people who have read that "Really Good Parenting" book do. 

But we didn't. We laughed and we bought Frostys

But you know what? I don't care what I should have done. It was worth it for the giggles she gave us. And that's more precious than all the spotlessly clean rooms in the universe.

What you say about social media is NOT what your kids hear

Let me start out by saying that is not yet another post about the dangers of social media profiles, and the world of paedophiles lurking out there waiting to scoop up the names, locations and pictures. That message has come through loud and clear. Got it.

Nope, this is about trying to get kids (and especially teens) to understand that NOTHING goes away online. That the "Delete" button is really just an archive or a "don't show this here now to me" button.

And that colleges and universities are using that information (including what you THOUGHT you deleted) to decide who get in and who gets scholarships.

And employers, legally or not, are using it to decide who gets hired and who gets the boot. And did I mention that it NEVER, EVER, EVER goes away???

So here's how it goes. I calmly tell my kids and their friends that they shouldn't post anything online they wouldn't want their grandmother, teachers, future boss or someday boyfriend, girlfriend, husband or wife reading. Or looking at. Or listening to. (Yeah, dangling participles galore...I can just hear my English degree adviser now!)

They look at me with sympathy. Poor mom has drunk the Kool-Aid. Doesn't get the world of Tumblr or Facebook. Never mind that online content marketing is my profession. Doesn't matter.

And so they post. And they upload.  Nothing truly awful. Nothing criminal or mean. Just stuff that to an admissions committee faced with 200 completely qualified students and one more slot could mean they come across as a slacker or uncomnmited or that person who's going to penny in the other students on the dorm floor. So they get the dreaded thin letter and someone else gets the welcome packet.

I know that the screaming-until-your-face-turns-blue or lecturing until your tongue is sprained won't get the message across. But ignoring it isn't an option.

So I'm asking you...what if anything has worked for you?  What message, what tool, what piece of information worked?

In the meantime, here's a message for future employers and college admissions boards everywhere. Kids say and do stupid stuff. By definition. Because they are kids. So could you please do everyone a favor and just look away a bit more? Scale back the peeking in where you're not invited. It's kind of like reading your sister's diary...none of your business and probably mostly made up.

Because behind the weird videos and talk about putting a cow on the high school princpals roof, they're good kids.  And odds are they would be good students and good employees.

Oh, and one more thing.  That prank you never figured out when I was at UF? That was me. The early-admissions, squeeky clean honors student. Just sayin'

Old country ways and raising American kids

I have a friend who is from Egypt. He's the father of several children, the oldest of whom is turning 16 in about a month.

I casually asked how he was going to deal with her dating in a few weeks, as I assumed that like most conservative parents (like me...ok...conservative about some things...way to the left of liberal on others!) sixteen would be the magic number for dating. Having your oldest date is scary, as I have discovered, so I expected the usual lighthearted litany of fears and commments about waiting up with a shotgun, or interogating the boy under a bright light.

"She is not going to date," he stated flatly. I thought he was joking.

"Yeah right. You wish."

"I'm serious. I want her to concentrate on school. And when she's ready, she'll date seriously and get engaged then married."

My shock clearly showed!

He proceeded to tell me it was "the way we do things." and that I did not understand the Muslim way.

I didn't know what to say. This man who had lived in America for over 30 years, had a beer in front of him as he spoke (his third since I arrived an hour before), never went to the mosque, did not pray the daily prayers nor fast on Ramadan is telling me his daughter must not date because it is the "Muslim way?" This man who has done nothing but complain about his arranged Muslim marriage which lasted for less than a decade but still makes him furious because he so despised the woman...he is about to make his lovely, talented New York-born daughter forgo high school dating because it was not the way when he was teenager over 30 years ago in Egypt?

But she will be on her own in college in two years, I protested. Yes, he agreed. I told about classmates and roomates in college who had been so restricted at home and went completly wild with the freedom of college. I told him about my own dating, stating at 16, with boys my parents met and talked to, with curfews and rules about where and when I could go. But I was allowed to go. So when I went away to college, I knew what to expect and how to handle myself and how to say no. Loudly and repeatedly if necessary.

He became angry.

"I will raise my daughter as I please!"

"But, but..." I sputtered...

Clearly there was no argument he would hear. And as I left to go home, I wondered...

is it possible to bring old country rules into the US and try and apply them to American borne children? Without the social suppport for the rules and the familial models, is it even a reasonable idea to try?

This child will watch her peers go on dates. She will hear about movies and dinners and beach dates and tennis dates and lunches. Will being kept from participating in innocent and wholesome activities breed a respect for the rules from another time and place, or will they create shackles she will break as soon as she is on her own and able?