Kids! I don't know what's wrong with these kids today.
Kids! Who can understand anything they say?
Kids! They are disobedient, disrespectful oafs
Noisy, crazy
Sloppy lazy loafers...
Paul Lynde, Dick Van Dyke, and Maureen Stapleton in the Bye Bye Birdie scene.
Click for the full scene on YouTube: http://youtu.be/1wCXr_6wgns
It is as though it is a requirement that once you reach about 30-years-old, younger if you work with children in any youth setting, to kid bash. What is wrong with them? When I was that age... Paul Lynde continues:
Why can't they be like we were
Perfect in every way
What's the matter with kids today?
Why is it that every generation thinks it is any different for them? Are any of us really naive enough to believe that our parents and their peers were not thinking the exact same things about us as teenagers? The truth is, times change because the world and society changes. Maybe the gripes change a little too, but for decades (and probably centuries) grown-ups have been belly aching about the youth of today.
I understand the importance of raising a good kid. I have one of my own, and nothing consumes more of my mental energy and emotional strength than my parenting. I just said to my husband earlier today, "I always worry about him [my son], about his future and his happiness. But more than anything, my greatest concern is that I don't want him to grow up to be an asshole." There it is. Blunt, and in black and white. I want my kid to grow into a good person. I am not going to expound on all that entails. I assume most of my readers know what I mean and at least loosely agree with me.
So as active and attentive parents we ask ourselves constantly if we are doing it right. Do I give him enough independence? Do I have high enough expectations, but understand that he will not always meet them? Do I listen and support, but give space when needed... But not too much space? Do I hold him accountable for his actions and give him enough responsibility?
I have been listening lately, without judgement, to the way my friends, colleagues, and random parents who talk and share in person and online about their parenting. Specifically, I have been making note of what parents expect from their teens in the realm of household chores and responsibilities. I think back to my own childhood and talk to my husband about his. Much of what we decide about child rearing is based on what we experience in our own childhoods. If we deem our own experiences as appropriate, we share them with our children. If we recall them as particularly harsh or inappropriate, we use them as guidance of what not to do with our own. My husband and I have employed this strategy for much of what we do with our son. We both feel pretty positive about the way our parents raised us, especially in regards to instilling in us solid values.
I have encountered some people who really have little expectation for their children around the house, other than "to do well in school." But most everyone I know in my personal life has some level of expectation for child labor in their home. Some require every aspect of the housework to be shared, especially those with large families- completely understandable. Others dole out chores based on what they feel their children can handle at the current age. Still others divvy depending on what they are willing to give up to their children, knowing the job will not be completed as well as they could have done it themselves. You know who you are and you know I get it, because I could easily be categorized this way. It is hard to let go of the "No one can do it as well as I could," attitude when you are really particular about certain things.
So here are my son's chores. He sorts and takes out the recycling. He empties the trash. He pulls both out to the curb on their respective pick up days and brings the bins back in later that same day. He gathers yard debris for pick up and mows the lawn. He cleans the guest bathroom, which is really his bathroom because unless we have house guests, he is the only one who uses it. He clears the table on any of our family dinner nights (usually 4-5 days a week), rinsing the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. Oh, and he unloads groceries from the car when I get home from Publix. Finally, though he rarely follows through unless under threat, he is responsible for cleaning his own room. About 2 or 3 years ago, my husband all but forbade me from going in and picking up after him. "He's too old to have his mommy clean up after him!" Of course there are other things that pop up here and there. Yard work with his dad, a chore at my request. But that summarizes his responsibilities as the only child.
What about the laundry, you ask? I still do the laundry. Many of my friends and acquaintances do not agree with this. They have their kids do their own laundry. In fact, I was doing my own by about age 12. I really do not mind doing his laundry (anymore than I mind doing any of the other laundry), and I have made some unsuccessful attempts to get him to start doing it.
About two weeks ago I read an article online about when to give kids different responsibilities around the home. The author's suggestion was when the kids are the height of the washing machine, they should be doing laundry. I asked a couple of the girls at work, and those with similar age children said their kids were doing laundry. My best friend said her two kids "help" with the laundry. So later that week, as the weekend (and laundry time) were approaching, I told my son I was not going to do his laundry anymore. It was his responsibility. He smiled and shrugged me off. He knew this would be a challenge for me. While I am not heavy into fashion or trends, I always wanted and still want my son to present neatly and cleanly wherever he goes. I want his clothes to match, I want him to wear fresh smelling attire, and I want him to send the message to the world that he is well cared for at home (as if his clothes really send that message- I know I'm a little cuckoo, I can't help it).
The weekend came and went. I announced on several occasions that all our laundry was done, and the washer and dryer were free for him to do his. Still, the mile high pile of towels from swim practices and a 3-shower-a-day habit was climbing the walls. What looked like every single garment he owned was oozing out of his hamper and strewn about like zombies crawling from their graves across a cemetery. I could no longer see his bedroom floor. Monday came. And went. Tuesday came. And went. The sun rose and set every day and the clothing zombies were still crawling the floor. I wondered if he was wearing clean clothes to school, but I let it go.
Finally, it was Friday. An entire two weeks of laundry cycle had come and gone, but none of the laundry was done. I decided to take the towels and start a load. I figured maybe clearing them out would help motivate him. He was leaving early the next morning for an overnight camping trip with his scout troop. Surely he needed some clothes. I folded the towels and did another load. Now all the towels would be clean, and I told him if he sorted all his clothes I would help him get started. Never happened.
He left Saturday morning, and I just could not help myself. While my husband was busy with other things in the garage, I knew I would be free of chastisement. I went into my son's room, sorted all the clothes, and washed every piece of clothing down to his last sock. You know what? I felt no shame. I felt good. I know someone would say I let him "win" a battle of wills, but I did not care. Sometimes just doing something for your kid because you can, makes you feel good. Makes you feel like a mom. Is that so wrong?
