When your "kid" becomes an "adult"

Being a parent is weird (and hard). On the one hand, our job is to nurture our children, to give them love and a shoulder to cry on, to provide them with shelter, food and clothing, to protect them from the evils of this world, and to teach them right and wrong.

On the other hand, and I truly believe this, one of our chief roles as parents is to teach our children to be independent and self-sufficient, i.e., to not need us anymore. Call it planned obsolescence. Kind of like your iPhone.

This summer, shortly after our just-turned-17-year-old daughter packed up her car with most of her clothes, along with her Vitamix and ice-cream maker, and drove off to Long Island to work on a farm (with a bunch of twentysomethings), I realized the spouse and I had entered that second stage of parenting.

Part of me, a very large part, is enormously proud of the teenager for being so independent and grown up. (She does her homework without having to be told or nagged to do so, loves to cook and is very good at it, is a good, safe driver, and does her own laundry.)

Another part of me, though, will always see her as my little girl (and not just because she's still shorter than I am).

While I worked very hard to make sure our daughter could take care of herself, and be self-sufficient (and succeeded!), I miss being needed (for more than a cash infusion)... and the hugs (though I still get those, just not as many or as often)... and waking her up each morning with a kiss on her forehead (she now sets her alarm and gets up before I do)... and our daily after-school, or after-camp, discussions. (Since she went to Long Island, we rarely hear from her, typically only when she has a money-related question. To find out what she's been up to, we log onto Facebook and Instagram.)

True, we still have a year before the teenager heads off to college. But she has already informed us that she will be very busy this year and to basically "not wait up for her."

Sigh.

I am happy she is happy. (We spent many years dealing with her being unhappy, and I will take happy over unhappy every time.) And I am proud our daughter is becoming (is?) an amazing adult -- and look forward to hearing about all of the amazing adventures to come. But this being a parent thing is a lot harder than I thought it would be.

Visiting colleges with your teen

I have a confession: I love going on college visits with my teenage daughter.

Maybe it's because my (divorced) parents were so not into the whole college visit thing. Maybe it's because I work in Marketing and love to see and compare how brands market themselves. Maybe it's because I enjoy an old-fashioned road trip and sharing in my daughter's excitement about college. Maybe it's because we only had to visit six schools. Or it could be all of the above.

Granted, we only have one child, who knows what she wants to study (Nutrition/Food Studies), and there are only a dozen or so universities that offer undergraduate degrees in Nutrition, and we were able to quickly narrow down the schools she wanted to visit (at least initially) to six, a very reasonable number. (We also had three backups, in case she didn't like more than one of the six.) Still... I thoroughly enjoyed going through the research process with her, planning our trips (one of my favorite hobbies), visiting each college/university, comparing them, and making up taglines (how I amused myself).

For those interested, here are my summaries -- and taglines -- for the six schools we visited.

First up was Boston University, whose admissions team clearly put a lot of time and money into their admissions presentation, which was conducted by an assistant director of admissions, featured a current student, and included a slick video filled with interesting factoids as well as a helpful slide presentation. If I were to come up with a tagline based on the presentation, it would be "BU, better than you think!"

(I could have been just imagining that BU had a chip on its shoulder, but as my memory of BU was as a party school for underachievers, the presentation definitely had me reconsidering the school and viewing it in a much more favorable light. Well played, BU!)

We also liked BU's campus, which, though urban (the school is located in Boston), still had a nice campus feel.

Next up was NYU, whose marketing tagline seemed to be "New York! F*ck yeah!"

I was underwhelmed (and turned off) by the presentation, given in a small, overcrowded room, in a building under construction, by an assistant director of admission who waxed enthusiastically about New York City and NYU's overseas campuses and study abroad programs, yet barely touched on the school itself, provided little admissions info (as I recall), and seemed like he was trying to scare off potential applicants. But the teenager didn't get the same impression (or didn't care).

Our NYU tour guide, however, a Communications (or was it Theater?) major from Kansas, was great -- very knowledgeable and enthusiastic. (We could all see the teenager being a tour guide.) Indeed, shortly after the tour had concluded, the teenager asked us if she could get an NYU sweatshirt. Cha-ching!

As for the University of Pennsylvania, which we visited on a February day when the mercury did not get above 15 degrees (and felt like -15 with the wind chill), if I had drunk a shot of vodka (or pick your alcohol) every time the assistant director of admissions said ivy league during his presentation, they would have had to rush me to the hospital for alcohol poisoning.

That said, we all thought the Penn presentation was good -- very useful, in terms of navigating the admissions process and showcasing some programs that students browsing the Penn website might not be aware of. But if I had to come up with a tagline for Penn, based on the admissions presentation, it would be "We're Penn, and you're not!" or "UPenn, hell yeah!" or "Penn, did we mention we're an Ivy League school?"

As for the campus tour, didn't love the tour guide (blonde sorority girl, though perfectly nice), but we loved the campus, which is very pretty and compact and has a small-town college feel, although it's in the heart of Philadelphia. (One of Penn's big selling points to prospective students is you can roll out of bed and be at your class within 10 minutes, no transportation necessary; Philadelphia is right there; and you can be in New York City in less than 2 hours.)

Next we drove up to Ithaca, New York, in early April, to visit Cornell, which I had my doubts about (big school, cold weather, not close to anything -- all the things the teenager didn't want), though it has a top-rated Nutrition program. I can't say that it was love at first sight, but it was close. Which surprised all of us.

Maybe it was the "Student Experience" package we booked at the Statler, Cornell's student-run, on-campus hotel, which resulted in us being upgraded to a Tower View Suite, and meeting and talking to so many nice students at the hotel and in the restaurant (where we had dinner and breakfast, both of which were yummy -- best yogurt I've ever had). It definitely wasn't the general Information Session, which was the worst, least helpful  admissions presentation I have ever attended. Totally worthless. (Dude couldn't even figure out how to work the 1990s PowerPoint presentation.)

However, the breakout sessions/panel discussions for the individual colleges, where the director of admissions for Cornell's College of Agriculture and Life Sciences, the school the teenager is interested in (who was fabulous) and three CALS students fielded questions from parents and prospective students, was much better. And our tour guide was great.

My tagline for Cornell, or really CALS: "CALS: Smart, creative people who know what they want to do need only apply."

Our last college road trip (for now), over April break, was to Northern California, to visit Berkeley and Davis. We all were SURE, with capital letters, that the teenager was going to love and want to go to Berkeley. In fact, we would have put money on it. And you know what? (You can probably guess at this point what I am about to write.) Of all the schools we visited, this was her least favorite. Mine, too.

The interesting thing was, the info session was one of the better ones we'd attended. (The guy who gave it studied education and was into statistics.) And we had a very articulate, very perky tour guide (another Theater or Communications major). And the campus is very nice. But we just weren't feeling it.

As for a tagline, I've been wavering between "Cal Berkeley: Just as good as Stanford, if not better!" (Berkeley has a bit of a chip on its shoulder re Stanford.) and "Cal Berkeley: Eh. Whatever." (Berkeley also gives one the impression that they don't need you.)

We had the opposite reaction to Davis, Berkeley's sister school to the Northeast. While Davis is reputed to have a Top Three Nutrition program and has a very cool sounding viticulture program (we all loved the idea of the teenager studying and making wine), we didn't know much about the school or the town and were basically just going for a ride.

Boy were we (pleasantly) surprised.

First off, the town of Davis is adorable. Okay, maybe adorable is not the right word, but it's a great college town, with lots of little eateries and shops and things -- very nice. And the UC-Davis campus.... All I can say is wow.

Maybe it's because we hadn't seen the sun, combined with over 50-degree temperatures, and lush grass and trees and flowers in over six months, but walking around the UC-Davis campus, you felt you were in an arboretum (which, actually, you are). And there are bikes everywhere. No vehicles are allowed, so students and teachers bike (or walk) everywhere. And the gym? OMG. Our giant, relatively new LA Fitness pales in comparison.

The academic buildings looked pretty nice, too (as did the baseball players).

As for the Information Session, it was one of the best we attended -- led by a student, a senior, who just happened to be a Nutrition major, and it was full of useful information about the school and applying. It also had us immediately reconsidering Davis (in a good way). As did our tour guide, an African-American student from LA, who was sporting a black Dodgers baseball camp, who confessed to crying when she first set foot on the campus, being an LA city girl, and not being used to the country, and squirrels, which terrified her. Although we don't think she meant to be, she was a hoot.

My tagline for Davis: "Davis: It's really nice here -- and we have good academics, too!" (Everyone there just seemed so happy and laid back, though everyone we talked with said to not be fooled by appearances, that the school was very challenging academically.)

So basically we are 5 for 6, which in baseball (LET'S GO, METS!!!), as well as in the college search process, is an excellent batting average. And the game plan now, for the fall, is for the teenager to attend classes (and stay overnight) at her top thee schools. If we can figure out how she can do that.

Which brings me to my final topic: College Admissions Websites. Why do so many colleges make it so hard to sign up for info sessions, tours, and/or classroom visits? Of the six schools we visited, Boston University, New York University, University of Pennsylvania, Cornell University, University of California, Berkeley, and University of California, Davis, Berkeley had the worst info session/tour sign up process, followed closely by Cornell. Though few of them were a cinch to navigate -- and I write about the web and usability for a living.

And do not get me started about trying to attend a class as a prospective student. (I am looking at you, NYU. Seriously, no online information? You just expect students to go to the Welcome Center the day they want to visit and play classroom roulette? Really? Really, folks. I know. I called. Was transferred twice. And no one could help me beyond saying, "Come down to the Welcome Center." Also, good luck booking an overnight hosting visit, anywhere. The schools that offer them sell out almost as fast as Target sold out of Lilly Pulitzer last weekend.)

ANYWAY.... As someone relatively new to this whole college thing, and fascinated by the process, I'm interested in hearing from other parents, as well as friends who can still recall what it was like when they visited schools, back in the day. Just leave a Comment (in the Comments section).

You might have a teenager if...

How can you tell your children are officially teens (other than, you know, knowing how old they are)? Here are 11 signs to watch out for.

Note: Any resemblance to actual, specific teens is purely coincidental. 

You might have a teenager if... your daughter thinks that a tight, low-cut shirt, a mini skirt, and Uggs are the perfect winter outfit; and your son insists on wearing a t-shirt and shorts to school if it's over 32 degrees out.

You might have a teenager if... you have never heard of the bands or singers your child listens to.

You might have a teenager if... you start to wonder if those ear buds were surgically implanted in your child's ears.

You might have a teenager if... your child cannot go 30 seconds without looking at his or her smart phone.



You might have a teenager if... your child can type way faster than you on his/her smart phone -- and offers to teach you how to use your smart phone.

You might have a teenager if... she says she was "talking" with her friends when she was actually texting or Facebook messaging or Snapchatting with them.

You might have a teenager if... you know what Snapchat is.

You might have a teenager if... when you ask your child a question, make a request, or offer advice (or, okay, just speak), she rolls her eyes.

You might have a teenager if... when you ask your child to do something, she cuts you off with a "Yes, mom," like you are the most annoying person on the planet.

You might have a teenager if... your child thinks you are the most annoying person on the planet.

You might have a teenager if... they think you can't possibly understand whatever it is they are going through.

How do you punish a teen?

So how does one go about punishing a teenager in our modern, enlightened age?

Yelling doesn't work.

And corporal punishment is out.

So what do you do when your now teenage kid acts up or breaks a rule? Do you give her a time out and send her to her room? 

Do you take away his computer and/or mobile phone and/or gaming console and/or TV privileges? What if he needs his computer to do homework -- and he needs his phone so he can text you or you him? What if you don't have a gaming console or your kid doesn't watch TV?

Can you ground kids if they are on a sports team or in a play or a concert? How does that work? 

How do you teach teens that breaking rules or promises or being irresponsible has consequences -- and punish them in a way that they won't be inclined to do whatever it is again? And to punish them in a way that hurts them more than it hurts you, without actually, you know, hurting them?

How do you drum it into their hormone-fueled, sleep-deprived brains that it's not okay to dis mom and/or dad or to blow shit off just because they don't feel like doing whatever or spaced?

And how many strikes do they get before you throw them out?

We are fortunate in that the teenager is a good kid, who, for the most part, is respectful and follows the rules. But she's still a teenager and slips up once in a while, sometimes because she just spaced. Sometimes just to zing it to mom. (And it's always mom, never dad.)

And, like many (most? all?) teenage girls, she thinks if she says she's sorry a dozen times, promises to never do whatever it was again, and, when all else fails, cries hysterically, that we will not punish her. And, I am somewhat ashamed to admit, the tactic often works, especially if her father is around.

But this morning, the teenager really scared me. Even though it was snowing and the twisty, hilly roads to school were icy, she still wanted to drive herself to school in the Mini Cooper. We let her, but only if she promised to text us the minute she got to school, to let us know she was okay.

She never texted.

I texted her a little after 8 a.m., long after she should have arrived. Nothing.

I texted her again at 8:30. No response. 

At 9 a.m., I called the school, and asked the office to page her or confirm that she had arrived at school. The woman was very sympathetic and sent someone to find the teenager. Five or six, maybe more, agonizing minutes later, she told me the teenager was in Math class. I breathed a sigh of relief and thanked the woman.

Then I got mad. And I emailed the teenager that we needed to have a talk when she got home.

Two hours later, I finally received a text from the teenager, apologizing profusely. But she knew she was in big trouble, and asked if she was going to be punished, and if she promised to be on her best behavior could we not punish her this time.

I told her we wouldn't punish her this time, but that for the next week, through next Friday, every time she takes the car, she has to text or email or call me as soon as she gets to where she is going. She slips up once, she has to take the bus to and from school -- her worst nightmare -- and has her car privileges revoked for 24 hours. And do not even think of asking us to chauffeur her. She spaces a second time, that's another day of riding the bus. 

To me, that's not a big punishment, but to the teenager, it's death. (She loves driving more than anything, except cooking.) 

So, what are your thoughts on appropriate punishments for teenagers? Please let me know via a Comment.

Scientists prove what moms have long suspected about teens

In breaking scientific news, researchers from the Universities of Pittsburgh, California-Berkeley and Harvard claim to have scientifically proven what moms have long suspected: that the teen brain shuts down when subjected to criticism from mom.

Allow me to illustrate with this Gary Larson cartoon:

(Apparently teens and dogs are not so different, at least when it comes to criticism.)

So next time, moms (and dads) when you are criticizing your teen, and you yell at them "Are you listening to me?" The answer is, no.

Life with Teenage Daughter Who Now Drives

As some of you may recall, two weeks ago the teenager acquired a driver's license -- and my nine-year-old Mini Cooper. At the time, I was rather stressed out, first about her road test, because the teenager was so stressed out, and I literally felt her anxiety (and yes, I am using literal in the literal sense). Then because OMG! MY DAUGHTER HAD HER DRIVER'S LICENSE AND WAS DRIVING... MY CAR! At 16!

[And she'll have fun, fun, fun 'til her mommy takes her Mini away.]



As a child of New York City (i.e., Manhattan), I had zero interest in acquiring a driver's license or a car when I was 16... or 17. Why go through the hassle when you can walk, or take the bus, or the subway, or a taxi anywhere? Indeed, in New York (i.e., Manhattan) a car was a burden, and a big expense, where people paid more for monthly parking than they did in rent.

It was only because my father INSISTED that I learn how to drive before I went off to college that I took driving lessons at the end of my senior year of high school. And let me tell you, learning how to drive in Manhattan is not for the faint of heart (nor is the New York Department of Motor Vehicles -- shudder). And even though I did, in fact, acquire my driver's license before heading off to college, I had zero desire to drive in the City (and still don't).

However, I realize that in the suburbs, especially where we live, being able to drive gives teenagers a sense of freedom and independence. Not unlike the feeling(s) I and my friends had being able to get around the City on our own.

So now each afternoon, instead of rushing off to school to pick her up, or take her to the gym or some other activity, I sit alone in my office, typing on my computer, my cat napping in my lap, repeatedly glancing at my mobile phone, waiting for her to text me where she is and that she is okay, and waiting to see or hear the Mini.

And I wait. And I watch. And I wonder.... How did she get to be so big, so independent, so grown up? What happened to my little girl?

The hardest 90 minutes of my life as a parent (to date)?

The hardest 90 minutes of my life as a parent (other than labor, which was the hardest 18 hours of my life)? Waiting to find out if my daughter passed her road test, to obtain her driver's license.

I think I was a bigger wreck than the teenager, who was pretty anxious and nervous. Which is why we had the spouse go with her. (His nickname, back in the day, was "the human Quaalude," for his immediate calming influence.)

The appointment, at her driving school, in a car she had taken lessons in, was for 7:45 a.m. So she and the spouse left the house at 7:20 a.m., to make sure she got there on time, which they did. However, she didn't actually start the test until 8:30. (WTF is that all about?)

Can you say nervous mother?

After pacing around the house, changing light bulbs, doing laundry, cleaning the cat boxes, wiping down ceiling fans, texting the spouse, for what seemed like an eternity, the spouse texted me at 8:50:

"Pass."

"Perfect score."

"THANK YOU JESUS," I texted back (even though we're Jewish -- though so was Jesus).

Now the teenager has to wait 48 hours. Then go to the DMV (again with the spouse) to get her actual license, which will entail waiting on another line, for at least an hour.

Then I will officially hand over the keys to my Mini Cooper and the real worrying will begin.

So, any words of advice from you fellow parents of teenage drivers? This is a whole new world for me, having grown up in Manhattan, where no one drove, at least not teenagers. And I am terrified.

UPDATED 9/26: It's official. The teenager is now licensed to drive. Got her license -- with a really nice photo! -- from the DMV this morning.

Teaching your daughter the facts of life

First a couple of quick disclaimers:

1. By "facts of life" I am not referring the 1980s TV series The Facts of Life. Though you could learn a lot about the facts of life by watching The Facts of Life.

2. I am also not referring to sex, though you really should talk to your child about sex at some point, preferably before they have it.

No, what I am about to refer to are the real facts of life -- or, perhaps, more accurately, the realities of life. Those unpleasant realities that we all encounter, at some point, which make us gnash our teeth and stomp around and complain.

Well, forewarned is forearmed, I say. Herewith, six realities of life. (Listen up, girls. Guys too.)

1. Life is unfair. Deal with it. You may be the best and/or the brightest. You may do all the right things. That doesn't mean you will be successful or rich or happy. Unless you are really good looking. Good looking people have been shown (or proven) to get more jobs, more money, and more promotions. Though that doesn't mean they are happy!

2. Honesty isn't always the best policy. Yes, yes, yes, we all know that lying is bad and no one should do it. But sometimes a situation calls for a fib, or a white lie, to protect someone's feelings -- or your ass from winding up in a sling. Just don't let me catch you lying to me!

3. Cheaters sometimes prosper, but eventually they get caught (most of the time). Cheating (e.g., copying homework, plagiarizing, using someone else's test results or Cliff Notes) is wrong and dishonest. When you cheat, you don't learn. Sure, it's the easy way out, and you probably see people doing it at school, who get As or awards, and you think, "Why didn't I cheat instead of blowing a whole weekend studying?!" But the reality is that while lots of people cheat, and often get away with it, they are missing out -- and eventually they get caught. And it typically doesn't end well.

4. It's not what you know but who you know. (See 1.) As most of us have learned the hard (or, perhaps, the easy) way, who you know -- aka networking -- is typically more effective at getting you a job or a hard-to-get reservation or ticket than what you know. So as you go through life, work hard, but also take the time to cultivate people -- teachers, parents, friends, coworkers, bosses. Be polite and helpful -- and don't be afraid to ask for help, an introduction, or a reference. Just be prepared to do the same -- and remember to say "thank you."

5. Most people suck at time management, aka, People (or their lives) are messy and disorganized. Don't take it personally (when they don't email or text or call you back). As someone who prides herself on being organized and efficient and a logistics whiz, who immediately returns emails, texts, and calls, this lesson was very hard to learn -- and I'm still working on the "don't take it personally part." But trust me, kid, you will be a whole lot happier, or saner, if you just assume that most people are bad time managers and will not get back to you, possibly ever. If it's important, you follow up with them. Repeatedly, if necessary.

6. Guys, especially teenage guys, typically go for girls with nice (or big) boobs -- and tall, skinny blonde girls with pretty faces. True, there are some exceptions to this rule. Unfortunately, I can't think of any right now. See Rule 1.

There are probably some gems I am missing. If you all think of any, please feel free to add it or them to my list via the Comments.

UPDATED 7/9/14: Just thought of one more.

7. No one cares. Unless you are famous. Most people are self-centered and self-absorbed. They don't care about your (seemingly petty) problems. Unless you are famous. Then everyone cares.

W(h)ither feminism?

So yesterday I took the teenager for her quarterly haircut and overheard the following conversation between her and her hairdresser, a lovely young woman in her late 20s who has been working since she graduated from high school and is about to be married to her long-time beau:

The Teenager: When I graduate [from college], I'm going to live on Hawaii -- and in Paris. And you can come stay me!

The Hairdresser: Well, I'm going to live on Hawaii, too, so I won't have to stay with you.

The Teenager: Awesome! Well, you can come visit me in Paris!

The Hairdresser: That would be great!

Me: And, um, how exactly are you going to maintain homes in both Hawaii and Paris, Teenager? Are you going to be someone's private chef? [The Teenager is an excellent cook and wants to become a nutritionist and private or personal chef when she graduates from college, or graduate school.]

The Teenager: No, I'm going to marry a rich man!

[Over 40 years of feminism flashes before my eyes -- and dies.]

Me: How about you become the rich woman?

The Teenager: ---

Me: Never be dependent on someone else, Teenager. Even if you do marry a rich man, work or make sure you have your own money.

The Hairdresser vigorously nods. The Teenager does not reply.

For those of you wondering where she got this idea, it wasn't from me. (I've been working since I was a teenager and have worked all of her life, albeit mostly from home and part time recently, though that hasn't been entirely by choice.) And she's not the only young woman -- far from it -- who dreams of marrying a rich man, or the man being the rich one.

Ladies, where did we go wrong?

Honesty or loyalty?

Maybe it's because I spent/d too much time following politics. (Though I am at the point where I can no longer watch cable or network news or read political blogs.) Or maybe it's because I've been binge watching The Good Wife. (It's been a long winter, people. Don't judge.) But lately I've found myself thinking a lot about the question, Which is more important, honesty or loyalty?

Or let me put it to you another way.

If you found out your child or spouse, a close relative, a good friend, or your boss (who controlled your employment/salary), did something wrong, something really wrong, as in illegal, or not illegal but something bad, something that would or could have serious consequences for this person (and possibly you, too), would you:

A) Seek out or verify the facts in the matter and if you discovered the bad thing was indeed true not shield or lie for this person but tell the truth, if called upon to do so (i.e., put honesty over loyalty).

B) Seek out or verify the facts and if you discovered the bad thing was indeed true shield or lie for this person (i.e., put loyalty over honesty).

C) Immediately refute any charges of wrong-doing, regardless of the facts, and defend your family member, friend, or boss (i.e., not even consider the facts for a minute; loyalty is more important than the truth).

Would the nature of the crime or wrong-doing make a difference? What if you found out your spouse sexually harassed an employee? Or your child bullied another child? Or your friend stole something?

I'm pretty firmly in the A camp -- honesty over loyalty. I try not to jump to conclusions but seek out the facts. And if the facts say that someone was wrong, I won't lie for them -- which has cost me many friends over the years and a couple of jobs. (We tell our children to tell the truth, but no one likes -- or wants to believe -- a whistleblower.)

Case in point: When I was in sixth grade, I spoke out against a bully, who at the time was one of my best friends. This girl took pleasure in bad-mouthing this one girl, who would let the bully say whatever she wanted, even if it was a lie. Ironically, this girl seemed to adore the bully, even though the bully made her cry. One day, I was asked to pile on the bullied girl -- and refused. I went even further, telling off the bully. The result? The girl I defended started to bully me, along with the bully, and I had no friends the rest of sixth grade.

I would do the same thing -- tell off a bully or abuser -- again, and have. (And have almost always met with the same result.) But I understand why so many kids -- and adults -- keep quiet.

Thoughts?

Is honesty always the best policy?

One of the things that hurts me most as a parent is when my daughter lies to me. Since she was a toddler, I have told her that honesty is the best policy -- and that it was better to tell me something, the truth, even if it meant I might get mad a her, than for me to find out she had lied to me. That would make me even angrier, I told her.

But over the years I have wondered, is honesty really the best policy? Or always the best policy?

Don't get me wrong. I think it's important to tell the truth. Most of the time. But what if you knew the truth would hurt someone? Should you lie or not say anything, even when the person is practically begging you for the truth?

I remember years ago, during a particularly dark period in my life when I was in therapy, I was consumed with guilt over something I knew about someone and wanted to reveal what I knew, because I hated lying. And my therapist -- a licensed psychologist -- told me not to. Why hurt someone, she said, if you didn't have to?

I was shocked. I still am, a bit, years later. But I never told -- and was glad I didn't.

Recently, I was confronted with another situation that made me question the whole "honesty is the best policy" policy.

What if you know something about someone else's child that the parent doesn't know? I'm not talking about the kid doing drugs or committing a crime. But what if you knew a friend's kid was on Facebook, even though he didn't have permission to be on Facebook? Or your friend didn't know her daughter was fooling around with a boy behind her back? Or driving her friends around when she wasn't supposed to (which, technically, is illegal)? Would you tell your friend or keep your mouth shut?

What if you saw your best friend's husband (or wife) with another woman (or man)? Would you tell your friend, even if she or he asked if you thought her or his spouse was having an affair?

I know there are no easy answers to these questions, but I'd be interested to hear what you all think. Is honesty always the best policy? And if not, what do you tell your kids? First do no harm?

Are we raising incompetent human beings?

When I was growing up, my father, a confirmed male chauvinist and bachelor, may he rest in peace, used to say to me, "There's nothing more useless than a woman who can't cook and can't drive." (We shall ignore the fact that this was a man who ate Pepperidge Farm oatmeal raisin cookies for breakfast, along with half a grapefruit or cantaloupe, which his cleaning woman would halve for him.)

At the time, my response was, Why when you live in New York City does a woman need to cook or drive?!

Oh how times have changed. Dad, you were right.

But it isn't just girls who should know how to cook and drive -- and know how to keep a checkbook, and do laundry, and shop on a budget -- before they go off to college. It's boys, too.

Maybe it's because I was the only child of a single working mom, but by the time I was 13 I was doing my own laundry, making my bed and cleaning my room (daily), and cooking. And I could sew a button on and darn holes in clothes. A few years later, I was buying my own clothes on a budget.

Yet I am constantly surprised by how few teenagers today, or maybe it's just suburban teens of well-off parents, know how to take care of themselves. Maybe this isn't a new problem, and I am just more aware of it now that I am a mother of a teen. But I worry about today's teens.

I also wonder what the cause is. Is it that parents try to teach their kids these skills but the kids refuse to learn? Or is it because the parents never taught them? And if it's the latter, why not?

I would love to hear from parents, dads as well as moms, whether or not your teen (or tween or twentysomething) knows how to cook and/or do laundry and/or helps out around the house -- either via a comment or by taking the anonymous poll below.

I'd also be interested in hearing what you all knew how to do by the time you went off to college.

Does your teen...

For the record, I taught our daughter how to do laundry when she turned 13, before she went off to a sleep-away program -- and she is now responsible for doing her own laundry and putting it away. She also cooks and buys her owns clothes. We are still working on getting her to clean up.

How harsh a parent are you?

The spouse and I were amused reading New York Times reporter Jodi Kantor's recent article about the Obama girls, Malia and Sasha. Specifically, we were amused by Michelle (and Barack) Obama's rules for the girls, which included (and I quote):

• Technology is for weekends. Malia may use her cellphone only then, and she and her sister cannot watch television or use a computer for anything but homework during the week. 
• Malia and Sasha had to take up two sports: one they chose and one selected by their mother. “I want them to understand what it feels like to do something you don’t like and to improve,” the first lady has said. 
• Malia must learn to do laundry before she leaves for college. 
• The girls have to eat their vegetables, and if they say that they are not hungry, they cannot ask for cookies or chips later.

While some children (and their parents) might find these rules on the harsh side, the spouse and I did not. Indeed, while we allow our daughter to use technology and watch TV during the week, she only does so after doing her homework. And she had to start doing her own laundry when she turned 13. We also put her on a clothing budget when she became a teenager, which has taught her to look for coupons and watch for sales, and I have taught her how to comparison shop. And we told her she can only cook (or bake), an activity she loves and has gotten quite good at, if she cleans up after herself.

Are we being too harsh, or strict? We don't think so. (Hey, compared to Prince Charles -- and Queen Elizabeth II -- who just sent Prince Harry to Afghanistan for four months as punishment for misbehaving*, we are softies.)

But what do you think of the Obamas "rules" for their girls? And what rules do you have for your children? I'd love to know, via the Comments.

*No, the Queen didn't really send Harry to Afghanistan as punishment. At least I don't think so.

Is "working mother" redundant -- and why hasn't society caught up?

Sometimes I think feminism was a male plot, thought up by a bunch of guys fed up with working all the time. "Sure, sweetheart, go ahead and get yourself a job -- but you know you still have to cook and clean for me and take care of the kids."

And the bit about not wearing bras? Tell me a guy didn't come up with that. (And before you all jump all over me, I know feminism was/is about way more than a woman's right to work -- and going bra-less.)

But let's get back to work, specifically parenting and work, as in paid employment.

If our society truly supported the idea of women working outside the home, why aren't there good (as in decent paying and desirable) part-time jobs -- for both sexes? Why don't more companies allow employees to work from home, at least part time? Why don't schools operate on the same schedule as businesses do? (As my teenage daughter has said many times, she would have no problem staying at school after classes ended, especially if all her friends did too, and either doing her homework or an activity until 5:30, which she used to do when she was younger.) And why is it so hard to find good, affordable childcare?

I, like many educated, intellectually curious women I know, love to work. I also love my kid and want to spend time with her (as most parents, I hope, do). So, years ago, I made a choice -- to become, basically, a freelance writer/editor, so I could work from home, even though I like working around other people, and being able to leave my work at the office, and the security (steady paycheck, health insurance, paid vacation) of having a "real," i.e., corporate office, job. And I feel very fortunate that I could do this. (Btw, contrary to popular belief about work-at-home moms, I do not sit around in my PJs all day, watching TV and eating bon-bons.)

However, as my daughter has gotten older, I have yearned to work outside the house, albeit not full time -- or the 50 to 60 or 70 hours a week that many employers now consider full time. But good luck finding a decent paying part-time job or a job with flexible hours or one that would allow me to work from home part time -- especially within 30 minutes of our home.

And I know I am not the only mother -- or father -- who feels this way.

Speaking of "working mothers," anyone else feel that phrase is redundant (besides Ann Romney)? You ever hear the phrase "working father"? (That would be a rhetorical question.)

And another thing, re the whole stay-at-home mom vs. working mom war? Enough already. Let's declare a truce -- and give each group the support they need (though fat chance employers are going to be creating a slew of good part-time jobs any time soon, and I doubt women who must work full time are going to feel less resentful of women who don't have to work any time soon).

Finally, a word about "parenting" books and articles (which are mainly books about mothering -- or making women feel guilty or stressful or bad about the choices they have or have not made). Do NOT read them. They will just stress you (and your spouse and friends) out.

Who knows your child best? You do. And no two children, or parents, are exactly alike -- so how can a parenting book or article be right for every parent and child? They can't. It's like horoscopes -- amusing to read (at times), but don't take them seriously or base your life on them.

You want to know about breast feeding? Here's what you need to know: breast milk is great for babies, as it helps with brain development and immunity -- and it's free. So, if you can and are comfortable with breast feeding your kids, do it. But if you are not, formula is fine. Don't drive yourself and your kid crazy. The end.

And speaking of formula, there isn't a magic one, or a book that can guarantee you if you follow or read it you will produce a smart, happy, healthy kid. Though there are things you can do as a parent that will increase the odds, such as feeding your child healthy, nutritious food, and minimizing sugar and processed and junk food; making sure she gets a good night's sleep as much as possible; reading to him regularly and minimizing TV and computer and video game time; and telling your child, every day, you love her.

Okay, I am done ranting now. Back to "real" work.

I'm so glad my daughter isn't three (and throwing temper tantrums)

Alternate titles: "And the Academy Award for Best Dramatic Performance by a Toddler goes to..." "This child is clearly not French," "What would Ann Romney do?"

I think every parent, aunt, or uncle will relate to this video of a cranky three-year-old having a major meltdown when asked to carry her bowl to the sink.



[H/T to Friend of the Blog Larissa for sending me this... I think.]

I actually had to stop the video a couple of times and walk away, it was so painful to me to watch. (Though I know a lot of people think this video is very funny. Yeah, it's hysterical when it's someone else's kid.)

Part of me wanted to smack that little girl (though I would NEVER smack a child) -- and/or scream "Just bring the effing bowl to the sink and stop your whining!" And part of me was incredibly relieved that my daughter is no longer that age (and stopped having level three nuclear meltdowns like that years ago).

But mostly I was in awe of this father's calm and patience and perseverance in dealing with this situation. Which led me to wonder, what would I have done in the same situation? (I would probably have taken this father's approach for a few minutes, walked away when it didn't work, tried again, then when it didn't work the third or fifth time screamed at my daughter, picked up the bowl, put it in the dishwasher or sink, and stormed out of the room.)

What would you have done? And did you find this video funny or painful -- or both?

You can learn a lot from driving teens

At the risk of divulging a big secret (and drying up a key source of juicy information), it often seems to me that my daughter and her friends think there is some kind of invisible, soundproof barrier between the front seat and back seat that prevents all conversation from being heard in the front seat, and, as a result, often talk about things they probably wouldn't talk about at, say, the dinner table (which is even more amusing, to me, because I drive a Mini Cooper, not a minivan).

Whatever the reason for their (often uncensored) chit chat, I am grateful for the opportunity it has given me, over the years, to learn about aspects of my daughter and her friends' lives that they might not normally share with a parent (even one as hip as I am*) -- even more so now that they are teenagers.

So what exactly can you learn from driving teenage girls?

Without divulging any personal information (concerning my daughter or her friends), following are some samples gleaned not only from my back seat but from the top secret back seats of other Russian chauffeurs (aka soccer and basketball moms who have sworn me to secrecy):

• What music they like (names of groups, lyrics and which ones have the hottest lead singer);

• How they are doing in school -- and which teachers they like/don't like;

• The latest teenage fashion trends and where they like to shop;

• Who has a potty mouth or is always getting into trouble; and, perhaps the most invaluable...

• What boys they like, who is dating whom, and what they say to each other (girls will often read aloud texts they receive/send to boys while chatting with their girlfriend(s) in the backseat)
  

(Note: I dread the day when I hear these girls discussing who is sleeping with -- or performing sexual acts on -- whom, which is hopefully many years down the line, but you never know.)

So what have you learned from schlepping your kids and their friends? Let me know via a comment.

*That would be sarcasm, just one of the many services I offer.

How to raise a smart, happy kid

Wouldn't it be nice if there was some formula parents could simply follow and -- presto! -- you'd have a smart, happy kid? But there isn't -- despite what all those parenting books and psychologists and now Tiger Moms* have to say.

Think about it: We all know people whom we think are wonderful parents who have an unhappy kid or a kid who doesn't do well in school (or worse).

And we all know people we think are awful parents ("I would never treat my child like that") whose kid winds up being the class valedictorian and/or the most popular kid with tons of friends.

So clearly, a part of having (notice I did not say raising) a smart, happy kid is luck. (That is, some kids are just born having sunny dispositions and/or an aptitude for learning, while others are wired to be unhappy or due to some chemical or congenital or genetic malfunction have difficulty learning.)

That said, there are things you as a parent can do to help your kid get better grades (without doing the work for her) -- like surrounding her with books, reading to and with her, fostering good study habits, helping her study for tests, and encouraging and rewarding good grades (though not with bribes or coercion).

And there are things you can do to help your child be happy, or at least feel good about herself -- like spending time with her, doing things she wants to do or introducing her to things you think she might enjoy; telling her "I love you," every day, and meaning it; being a good listener; encouraging her passions and praising her (real) accomplishments; and not belittling her and telling her she's stupid or fat.

But there is no "formula" or book that can make your child class valedictorian or the most popular kid at school.

*Btw, I keep saying "smart, happy" because while I think it's important to cultivate a love of learning in your child (which IMHO I believe is the key to long-term academic and professional success), I think it's equally important for children to enjoy life, and to be able to do things that make them happy. Unfortunately, I have encountered too many parents who don't give a hoot about their child's happiness, just their grades (see Mom, Tiger). And what's the point of being "smart" if you are effing miserable?

Disagree with me? Leave a comment. But please keep it civil or I will delete it.

My Tipper Gore Moment: Is it OK to let my 11-year-old daughter listen to Top 40 radio?

Seriously, you cannot turn on any Top 40 or rock FM station these days without hearing at least one song in the span of 10 minutes that doesn't have raunchy or sexually explicit lyrics. Go on, I dare you, try it. It's gotten to the point, said my neighbor, G., to me this morning, after asking me if I had heard the song "Birthday Sex," (I had not) which she said is played seemingly every 10 minutes on one station or another, that she doesn't want to turn on the radio when the kids are around. And I have to kind of agree with her.

Some background: Until relatively recently, or so it seemed, my daughter had no interest in pop or really any other kind of "adult" music. Indeed, for a while we thought we would never be able to listen to anything other than Raffi or The Mother Goose Jazz Band or Singin' in the Bathtub or that Arthur CD or something other than Sesame Street in our cars. Then, some time last summer, everything changed. Suddenly, our 10-year-old was singing Top 40 songs and asking for an iPod for Hanukkah. And -- gasp! -- she actually started asking me to... turn on the radio when we drove together.

I was initially thrilled, especially as we tended to like the same music. Suddenly I could once again listen to my iPod and to WPLJ and z100 and WBLI and most of my other pre-programmed radio stations without a little voice in the back chirping "Mom, could you turn off the radio, PLEASE?!" (Hey, at least she said "please.")

Then, one day, while listening to the Black Eyed Peas' song "Hey Mama" on my iPod with my daughter bopping to the beat in the back seat, I had my first Tipper Gore moment*: Will.I.Am just said WHAT?! OMG, and he just said it, like, seven more times.

"Um, sweetie, let's change the song, OK?" I called out to the back seat. "Why mom?" asked the cherubic voice behind me. And so, I told her. And I told her why it wasn't appropriate for her -- and us -- to listen to. And she agreed.

And we were good -- until my (and her) infatuation with Britney Spears, specifically with the Britney song "If You Seek Amy," the chorus of which contains a naughty pun according to some listeners (though it escaped this listener). Then my daughter noticed that radio stations were suddenly playing versions where "if you seek Amy" had been changed to "if you see Amy" or repeated "ha ha hee hee ha ha ho ho" instead of "if you seek Amy" in the chorus, and she asked me why. And I told her.

So we developed this kind of unspoken rule about which songs were appropriate for 11-year-old girls (and boys) to listen to (my daughter having turned 11 end of May), which I'd rather not go into here but you can guess, and we adhered to it (for the most part). (For the record, we are very strict, probably much stricter than most parents, about which movies and TV shows our daughter can watch, as well as which Internet sites are OK to visit, but we hadn't really thought about what music or songs were appropriate until recently. Sigh. Let me just say, being a parent is way tougher than you think.)

And then came Lady Gaga, real name Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta, that nice Catholic girl from Yonkers. HA!

As those of you who regularly read the blog know, I am a big fan of techno pop/new wave music and really like Lady Gaga's song "Poker Face." So when I heard she had a new song out, called "Love Game," I wanted to hear it. (Btw, you can see the "official" video of "Love Game" here.) But when I happened upon the song while driving with my daughter the other day -- the first few lines of which, which are repeated several times, are "Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick" -- she immediately piped up "Mom, I don't think this song is appropriate!" So I changed the station.

But we didn't have to wait long to hear it again. Again, I changed the station. But by the next time it came on, we just left it. I know: Bad mommy. But by that point we both were curious to hear it (call it "forbidden fruit syndrome"), and I figured she was bound to hear it at some point. So I just let the song play.

Lest you think I have utterly caved, though, know that now when the song comes on, before we listen, I tell her in my strictest, sternest mommy voice, "Under NO circumstances are you to go ride on any boy's 'disco stick,' understand, young lady?!" Which makes me feel a bit better (and embarrasses the heck out of my daughter, who freaks out when her mom or dad try to discuss basic sex ed with her, or tease her about boys, forget riding on some guy's "disco stick," though I know this will change soon enough.)

For the record, Flo Rida's "Right Round" and Ciara and Justin Timberlake's "Love Sex Magic" are still on the verboten list, as is the 1987 classic "Boom Boom," by Greek-American hottie Paul Lekakis (not to be confused with the Black Eyed Peas' new hit, "Boom Boom Pow").



*In 1984, when Tipper Gore's daughter Karenna was 11, Mrs. Gore bought her daughter Prince's album Purple Rain. Gore had heard of Prince, but didn't listen to his music -- or rather his lyrics -- and was shocked to hear how explicit some of it was, in particular the song "Darling Nikki." Soon after, she launched a movement, the Parents Music Resource Center, to get record companies to put warning labels on records marketed to children, and even went before Congress. Many in the music industry objected and mocked Gore, who claimed she did not advocate censorship just awareness.

At the time of the controversy, I didn't see what the big deal was. Now, however, as the parent of an 11-year-old female, in an age where you can hear songs called "Birthday Sex" on mainstream radio in the middle of the afternoon, I think Gore had a point and am wondering what the heck happened.