Teenagers: Can’t Live With ‘Em…But We Have To

Last fall made it official: My husband and I have three teenagers living under our roof. And given the current situation, they are living under our roof all the time, 24/7. But even though we’ve gone critical mass in teen town, my husband and I have been gradually inoculated with teen attitude since our daughter was five. Kind of like allergy shots, the steady exposure to strong opinions and determined independence have helped prepare us for the actual teen years. Not that we are fully immune and completely prepared for this phase of parenting, but we have made many observations, brought into sharper focus by COVID-19, that you may find a helpful heads-up, or at least relatable or humorous, regarding the teen years:

Number sense, out the window. As in: “There are, like, 19,000 boys named ‘Alex’ in my grade!” or “Hey, can we buy my friend an iPhone 11 for his 12th birthday?” And, of course, “Mom, you already hugged me a million times today!!!” Allow me to blame the middle school math curriculum that includes math problems where John goes to the grocery store and buys 697 avocados. That’s, like, insane.

And as long as we’re here let’s discuss the rampant use of the “L” word. “Like” makes up a significant portion of a teen’s vernacular. I swear, it’s every other word. (I think I’m coming down with that same lack of number sense…) I’m really starting to hate the word “like”, like, a lot.

Why send them to school? (Oh, I guess they actually aren’t at school, are they?) Teens are already expert litigators. They can pick apart the smallest detail of anything an adult says and use it against said grownup. For example:

Me (driving to get groceries): Hey, D, remind me to pick up dog food at the store.

My daughter (without missing a beat): Mom, pick up dog food at the store.

Me (eyes rolling): I mean, remind me when we get there…

OR

Son (ratting out his brother): He’s listening to a song with bad words!

Me: Be sure you set a good example by not listening to those songs yourself.

Son: But I’m not listening to music right now.

(insert head-exploding emoji here…)

Object permanence? Babies emerge into this milestone between 4 and 7 months of age. And kids start to lose it, oh, sometime after they begin to walk and talk. Every parent has been asked by their kids a million times (NOT an exaggeration…) where their shoes are, or where their homework is, or….you name it. And we respond with some variation of where-did-you-have-them/it-last-? Then kids get frustrated and make a feeble attempt of “looking” for the MIA item by casting a glance right and then left and then announcing, “Well I don’t know where it is!!!” If the shoes, notebook or bicycle isn’t in immediate line-of-sight, then it must be gone forever.

The world is their trash can, except for the trash can. The upside? At least the world is no longer their toilet (ah, the memories of my oldest taking a wee off the top of a jungle gym….). The downside? Water bottles and beef jerky wrappers and rubber bands (used ones, I might add…) from orthodontia everywhere. No wonder it’s a major challenge to get my kids to take out the garbage…number one, they can’t identify a circular file to save their lives. But even if they did? It’s empty because the trash is everywhere but.

Teens smell. Not a newsflash. But daaang. No one can go from full-on B.O. to a Pig-Pen-like cloud of Axe body spray faster than a teenage boy. If he wants to keep everyone, including the dog and every microbe known to man out of his room, it is essential he fumigate with Axe. Yack.

Nothing can be all-natural or healthy. Teens love Dr. Pepper. They eat Skittles. Kids would rather have hair the color of a carrot or blueberry than eat either.

Personal Grooming. Not to be confused with personal hygiene. Teens will take hours perfecting their “look” with hair gel and bling but completely forget to brush their teeth.

And that perfected “look” is totally at the expense of the bathroom. Not a hair out of place but darn it all if the floor has gone MIA for all the damp towels, gooey shampoo bottles, sweaty socks (and my daughter’s cowboy hat) scattered like land mines. I could mention that tripping and falling in that veritable swamp would mess up my daughter’s ‘do but selective hearing loss is another one of those teenage traits worth mentioning.

“Single serving” takes on a whole new meaning. A half gallon of milk. A whole carton of ice cream. An entire box of popcorn shrimp. And this is just the after school snack. My middle child has been in feed-me-Seymour mode since he left the womb and I’m still amazed at what he can put away.

Language! Ugh. It would be easier to ship my kids off to Britain where the f-bomb is totally acceptable than to threaten them stateside with a swear jar.

Teenagers. They are hard to live with. But we can’t imagine life without them. Mainly because evidence of their existence permeates everything: their stuff everywhere, how they smell and what they say, and what they listen to on Alexa.

But we love them, unconditionally and despite of (and maybe because of) the frustrations. The teenage years are difficult, to say the very least. And we parents recall all too easily our own challenging adolescent experiences. But now, our kids are navigating adolescence during a pandemic, ripe with disappointments and isolated from their friends. Technology helps, but it isn’t the same as the usual routine of school and activities. Now, more than ever, we parents need to summon extra patience and understanding as the all-important structure and social support our teens are accustomed to have vanished. We need to carefully consider which battles are worth fighting. Maybe the bathroom remains a disaster area. We can simply shut the door on the mess. The biggest challenge right now, for both parents and their kids alike, is figuring out our new reality and making the transition to a new normal as painless and supportive as possible.

But please kiddos, like, find a trash can for those wrappers and watch your language.