Slinkys

Raising teenagers is like sending a slinky down the stairs; you know it's going to run off course and get stuck. Guide and nudge that's your job. - Michelle

Image Source Page: http://www.originalslinky.com

There was never a more frustrating exercise for me as a kid than playing Slinkys. I loved them! I loved the metallic swoosh, swoosh, swoosh sound they made. I loved the way they seemingly 'floated' from one hand to the other under their own momentum. I loved racing Slinkys down the stairs. I loved it but really it was more frustration than pleasure. I would poise my Slinky strategically on the top step  and wait for the signal, then give it a nudge to send it on it's way.

Sometimes that dam Slinky would fly over the first three steps and bounce the rest of the way down. One time in six I would get lucky and the first push was precise and set the perpetual motion into effect, my Slinky would 'walk' down those stairs like a commercial champion, get 4 steps into the journey and coil itself back up into a stack and wait for all the other Slinkys to 'sproing' on by. As I write I an trying desperately to playback memory footage to a time when I executed a perfect Slinky run. I can't find one, I'm fairly confident in telling you that it never happened. It never happened but I loved that game anyway. I would spend hours setting my Slinky up to fail, redirecting it's path and restarting it time and again when it got stuck on the journey.

I never won a Slinky race but I always celebrated my Slinky landing at the bottom of the stairs. I celebrated because that was the triumph, not how elegantly your coil got to the bottom of the stairs but that it got there at all. I celebrated because of the one thing every Slinky player knew; every time you launched your spring you ran the risk of it getting tangled on itself. If that happened you were done. You can't untie a Slinky, just any Dad presented with a mass of wire by a sobbing 4 year old. You could probably avoid the whole mess by keeping your Slinky on a shelf and just saying "look, I have a Slinky." I knew kids who did that, but that is not what Slinkys are for.

Gratitude today to my teenagers Slinkys. The game is always fresh, frustrating and fun. Most of all you give me so many reasons to celebrate, no matter how many times I push you down the stairs and how much work it takes to get you to the bottom, you always get there 'untangled' in perfect form. Lucky for Dad...Moms are a lot easier to untie.

Have a fun weekend everyone!

Gratitude, Hope and Smiles are meant to be shared - get to work!

Michelle

With a Little Help from My Friends

This is a piece I should not be writing. It has the potential to embarrass a child and exacerbate an already tense situation. I'm just so freaked out by the service of *wait for it* ... a cell phone company of all creatures, that I am going to write it anyway.  In the interest of preserving family harmony and respecting the privacy of a teenager I'm just going to pretend it happened to someone else.

So my friend has teenagers, my friend also has grey hair, frazzled nerves, a zest for life and a positive outlook on her current situation and the future. As I understand it teenagers can sometimes test your patience. It is not their fault they really don't have much control over their developing brains or hormones. The poor creatures are continually trying to navigate that delicate balance between stability and instability while trying desperately to separate themselves from the apron strings in preparation for adulthood. I really do have to commend them for the difficulties they face on a daily basis while they navigate through this storm. I remember being there, it was not an easy place to be.

On occasion however teenagers get caught up in themselves. They think themselves braver than they believe and wiser than they think. They test the limits too thoroughly and need to be reeled back in. Right around this same time they also believe they are more cleaver than their parents.

My friend's daughter was riding one of these big for her britches highs recently. Mistakenly deciding that she had attained an age where the rules of family life and respect no long were applicable to one so mature and capable. Oh, my poor friend her children really are capable. The daughter began breaking curfew, ditching responsibilities, balking at simple house chores like pick up your dishes and hang up your coat. She was adopting an air of belligerence and sass. All intolerable behaviours in civilized circles. Routinely such behaviour would result in loss of privilege, most namely the confiscation of cellular devise.

My friend's clever daughter being ever so capable and bright could see this coming in the headlights and ditched the phone. "lost" it. On the premise that you cannot extract blood from a stone, you cannot take what is not there. No phone, nothing to loose.

There is more than one way to skin a cat however and my friend as a parent of teenagers has developed some skills of her own through out this adolescent storm.

I did say this was a story about a cell phone company didn't I? That cell phone company is Virgin Mobile. The phone company with the funky auto-attendants and super customer service staff. Virgin Mobile who earned my friends unwavering loyalty recently when she called to inquire about suspending service to a cellular devise.

Yes, Virgin Mobile clearly organized and staffed by the parents of teens. Service suspended... no additional charge for the suspension or the reinstatement (should that day arrive) Virgin mobile and the very kind customer service attendant who inquired if the suspension was due to the phone being lost? The dear who knocked the monthly bill down to a minimal $15 while on suspension when she was told the need for suspension was disciplinary.

Gratitude today from my  friend for some assistance from an unlikely source. Parenting is hard work she says we need all the help we can get.

I have a feeling that Virgin Mobile understands where the money comes from to pay those phone bills and that like in my friend's case, service suspension is not likely to last very long. It's surprising how a little disconnection can put things back on track.

Happy Friday - It seems like a day for grand adventure - go find one!

Michelle

Bring It On!

Being the parent of teens can be challenging, even with great kids. (yes I have great kids. Have I not mentioned that before?) There are worries about friendships and relationships, a word that makes a small patch of skin just below my breastbone break out in a rash. (I think it may be the ulcer burning to the surface.) Parents of teens (even really great ones) worry. People who have been entirely your responsibility for years are suddenly out in the world supervised only by a guilty conscious and their own moral compass.

They want more freedom, they crave it, plan it and fight for it, Of course they usually require a ride to and from their freedom and someone to finance it.

Teenagers never have clean clothes. I know that teens are smart, they continually remind me by proclaiming "I'm not stupid." Why, do they not know then, that clothes do not walk from the bedroom floor to the laundry room?

Only a teenager could stand in the middle of the kitchen while you unpack $200 worth of groceries and complain that there is nothing to eat. At that moment it takes every ounce of strength not to chuck a grapefruit at their head.

As the parent of a teen you are directly responsible for plan failure. How this happens I am not sure, all I am certain of is that if a BFF can't make it to the movie because her BF's parents said he couldn't leave the house...you will pay. A simple "what movie are you seeing?" will be successfully twisted into a high pitched discussion about the number of ways you are single handedly destroying a life.

In a comedic irony we are directly responsible to authorities for the attendance, performance and success of scholastic life. Have you ever asked a teen to do their homework?

There are serious issues that rob us of sleep. The minefield of adolescent dangers is ever growing and the urban dictionary is usually a good six months behind. By the time information about the latest narcotic party games, conquest challenges and social network threats filter to your facebook, it's old news.

Yes, parenting teens, even really great ones (yes, I have great kids. I'm not so much reminding you as I am reminding myself.) is challenging. I have a long way still to go on this portion of our parenting journey. Our youngest has yet to enter adolescence. Lord help me, there are days when I wonder if I'll come out the other side. It takes a thick skin not to take it personally. It takes enormous emotional fortitude to weather the hormonal storms. It takes a ridiculous amount of resolve to stand your ground. It takes an infinate measure of faith to withstand the worry.

I'm not going to lie, there are days that end with me curled into to the fetal position with a box of kleenex. There are days when I think they are going to defeat me. There are days when I am sure I don't have what it takes to get them through this right of passage. Some days I don't know where I will find the strength.

Then I get a text like this...

KJ wants to be picked up from her sleepover at dinner not lunch.

...and instantly the batteries recharge!

I'm grateful that teenagers think they are so smart. They remind me that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. Bring it on!