So, do you want to know just how ugly punishment can get around here? I guess it’s time for full disclosure. The answer is: very, very ugly.
At some point along the way, with one child or another, my husband and I have tried it all. Some things have worked like a charm. Others haven’t. Punishments that worked well for our friends’ kids have had no impact on ours at all. What motivates one of our kids does not necessarily work well with the other two. We’ve screamed and yelled. We’ve cried and fussed. We’ve talked, discussed, argued, nagged, and whined. We’ve thrown things. We’ve occasionally slammed doors and stomped off in fits of temper. We’ve taken away treats and privileges like car keys, video games, and concert tickets. We’ve added chores, too—cleaning assignments, yard work, and anything else that requires lots of time and old-fashioned elbow grease. Our kids are strong and healthy. They do good work when they are properly motivated. For example, I say, “I don’t care how long this job takes you, but you can’t leave the house until it’s done to my satisfaction.” Free tip: you should always attach a mandatory parental inspection clause when you hand out a punishment. Upon completion of any job your teenagers do as reparation, the work has to pass muster. I learned this the hard way. Otherwise, they do the least they can get away with. Make your expectations crystal-clear at the outset. If your teenagers have just been saddled with punishments that wreck their plans for a fun weekend, their attitude is already in the toilet. Remember: generally speaking, teenagers take no pride in the work they do for you.
Like most of you, we’ve also dabbled in the reward system. We’ve offered prizes like it’s Bingo night on the reservation. We’ve dangled extended curfews, free movie tickets, and special outings with friends.
We never get “crafty” with our punishments or rewards, although I know some parents who enjoy that. I have never created posters, awarded stickers, or heated up the glue gun to make a visual aid. That’s a little too involved for our household. We’re busy people and way too tired for all that business. In a fit of temper one day, I did start a tally system on a paper towel and taped it to the refrigerator with a piece of duct tape. (We love duct tape around here. Anything can be fixed with duct tape. Right now, duct tape is the only thing holding one of the shelves in my refrigerator in place. It’s been there for years. Unless all my readers buy a lot of books, it’s going to be there for a few more. We also have a bit of decorative duct tape trim on our icemaker. All of our appliances are aging beauties, real Architectural Digest material.) On that paper towel, I wrote my kids’ names in big, angry caps with a black Sharpie. For a few weeks, I put a hash mark by each kid’s name every time I had to pick up a wet towel from their bedroom floors or fish out a dirty glass from underneath their beds. At the end of the month, my plan was to subtract a dollar from each kid’s allowance for every dirty towel or glass I had to pick up. The way I looked at it, they could either clean up after themselves like civilized human beings or pay me to do it. That consequence program lasted a couple of weeks until it petered out, as do so many of my rage-inspired plans.
Like all parents, my husband and I want our children to learn that every single thing they do has a consequence—for good or for ill. We want our kids to consider the costs of their actions—to pause for a moment before doing something stupid and weigh the benefits of what they want to do in the short term against the potential consequences in the long run. I think that such a pause is sometimes long enough to bring them to their senses. One of my teenagers might think, for example, If I jump off Chimney Rock and my mom sees a picture of it on Facebook, she might not let me go back to the lake with my friends again all summer.
It’s a lot like training a puppy. It takes positive and negative reinforcements to safely shepherd teenagers to adulthood. You have to find the perfect combination. I know an adult whose parents refused to allow him to watch the news on television as a punishment when he was in his teens. That was the perfect button to push to get what they wanted. My teenagers do not care if war has broken out on the East Coast, as long as it doesn’t mess up their plans for the weekend. But taking away their cell phones causes them to scream like someone being chased in a slasher movie.
In case you are still wondering (or hoping), I am not one of those gentle, soft-spoken, sweet mamas who always sees the good in her children no matter what they do wrong or what they are accused of doing wrong. (If you’ve read my other three books, this will not surprise you. I write nonfiction. All my material comes from my life. It’s free and plentiful, since God gives me lots of character-building lessons. But it can also be humbling and embarrassing—nationwide.) My children know that if they get in trouble, they better have the DNA evidence to back up any pleas of innocence. We do not begin with a presumption of innocence around here. They have to be able to prove they’re not guilty. No jury of our teenagers’ peers is waiting to hear testimony and weigh the evidence. I’m a firing squad kind of judge, and I am often quick to line people up against the wall. My husband is a real judge. He tends to think carefully before he speaks. My kids aren’t nearly as afraid of him as they are of me. I’m much more likely to shoot first and ask questions later.
My kids will tell you I’m a mean mama. I’m not ashamed of that reputation anymore. But my kids also claim I enjoy being a mean mama. Now, that’s just not true. It hurts my feelings that they think so. I’d much rather be one of those sweet mamas who speaks in a soft voice and gets her children to behave appropriately by inspiring them to do the right thing with little songs and heart-shaped cookies. That mama never screams until she is hoarse (did that today), grabs a handful of her foot-taller son’s shirt to bring him down to eye level so she can fuss some more (a common occurrence), or runs behind a teenager’s car with a broom (which happened only one time—let’s just say he had it coming and leave it at that).
Who wouldn’t rather be a sweet mama? There’s no dignity in being a mean mama. My style of parenting is no Norman Rockwell painting. I’m not checking my mailbox for my Mother of the Year award either. My point is that parenting isn’t about me. It’s about doing what I think is best for my children. Does that mean I’m right about everything? Of course not. (This is a real shame. My least favorite person’s fault for things to be is mine.) Does it mean I never have to apologize to my offspring? No again. I apologize and start anew at least once a week.
The reality is that I haven’t found sweet mamas to be nearly as effective as mean mamas. So, while I’m not particularly proud of being mean, I am proud of the results I get. My kids are turning out rather nicely, thank you very much. I could brag here, but I’ll restrain myself. I do not want to be one of those mamas. Sure, some of my kids’ successes are the product of good genetic material. Also, my kids were lucky enough to be born to parents who love one another and them. We work to support them every day of their expensive little lives. But the secret ingredient to their success is that they have a mean mama. I can’t stress that enough. It pays to be clever, sneaky, quick thinking, and adaptable, but most of all, you have to have a dab of mean and nasty, like the Grinch. I can’t say it any plainer than that.
My husband and I often refer to our oldest child as “the Experiment.” He’s our first attempt at parenting. We’re learning as we go along. We’ve made some mistakes. We admit that. We have some regrets. We’ve committed sins of omission and commission. We try to do a little bit better with each child who comes along. I think if we have about fifty more, we’ll be prepared to parent the last five like true professionals.
One of my biggest disappointments in parenting is that each of our three kids is different. It makes me feel a little bit cheated. I’ve talked to other parents, and this is true in their families, too. Just when I figure out the best way to teach a life lesson or to handle a problem, the next kid presents totally different challenges. The perfect punishment for one kid doesn’t even faze another. It sure would be helpful if there were an instruction manual or a special-order form that came with each delivery. I
can imagine it now: “Congratulations, new mama! It looks like you’ve got the new-baby math brain with just a smidgen of musical talent. You must be so proud! You and your husband enjoy that model, you hear? Please read the fine print before having sex. We do not accept returns or exchanges.”
In many ways, parenting any teenager is one big experiment. You go into it with certain theories. You have hopes and dreams. It’s the biggest investment of your life, emotionally and financially. Each decision is potentially life altering. As a parent, you are responsible for growing a person. If you stop and think about that for a minute, it will bring you to your knees. I guarantee it.
You can’t raise a teenager without spending way more time than you ever thought you would discussing consequences, punishments, reparations, and occasionally prison time. Whatever you call punishment at your house, it amounts to the same thing. If you make a rule, your kid is going to break it at some point along the way, if only to test the limits of your resolve. Then you have to decide what you want to do about that.
Wide-ranging options are available—a whole world of possible repercussions for every infraction, many more than I have talked about in this chapter. And somebody thinks of something new every day. Sadly, there is an ever-expanding world of trouble your kids can get into. Sometimes, it’s just a matter of rule breaking. Other times, you’re dealing with basic morality, right and wrong, and the true nature of temptation. These days, you need a law degree and a medical license to raise children. Who knew? It is also helpful if you can channel Plato and some of his buddies. Parenting requires you to delve into meaty issues. In many ways, rearing teenagers is an ongoing case study in ethics and philosophy.
Over the years, I have received more free advice about discipline than any other aspect of parenting. This surprises me. Browse the parenting section in your local bookstore. You’ll be amazed by what you find. Apparently, most parents have at least one moment when they wonder if their teenager is going to grow up to be a serial killer. The main thing to remember is that teenagers screw up and make bad choices, no matter what you say, how many warnings you give, and what kind of example you set.
Parents differ in how they respond. One size does not fit all. You have to find what works for your kid and your family. The important things are to find the consequence that will work and to impose it consistently and as often as necessary to get the result you want: a happy, responsible, self-supporting adult who doesn’t live in your basement when he or she grows up.
As far as I can tell, there’s no magic recipe. It’s a complicated mixture of carrots and sticks. You want to motivate and inspire like a sweet mama does, but you also want to come down like a ton of bricks on issues regarding safety, unkindness, laziness, and sheer cussedness. I wish I could tell you what to do. If I ever figure it all out, I’ll get a memo out ASAP. I can tell you only what has worked for me, the mean mama.
When kids are still in single digits, consequences are relatively easy to apply. You can redirect, distract, or remove the temptation or the kid from the situation. Consequences are usually immediate, which is how it should be. Yesterday is ancient history to a toddler. Little kids live in environments controlled by parents. I loved parenting my kids at that age. I’m a big fan of control. Time-out worked for me. I have friends who ask, “How did you make them stay in time-out?” I don’t know how to answer that. My kids never got up until I told them they could. I found it easy to manage toddlers. They’re not hard to outsmart. I’m a resourceful woman. Also, little kids crave their parents’ approval. They actively seek to please. Don’t you love that about them? I do.
Teenagers are another matter entirely. It’s a quick ride from Play-Doh to prom night. Suddenly, you’re there. Teaching teenagers the consequences of their actions is like going straight from peewee football to the NFL draft with no stops in between. You have to hang tough and be ready to hit whatever comes over the plate. You have to field whatever comes at you. (I don’t know what’s with all the sports metaphors. They just feel right.)
Teenagers have quick reflexes and little to lose. They think fast on their feet. They’re clever, and they were born technologically savvy. The best you can do is try to keep up. They can text with their cell phones in their pockets or under the table while you are talking to them about something else entirely. The kids you love more than your next breath will lie to your face with the audacity of antique dealers. They aren’t inherently bad deep down inside—way deep down. It’s just that they are wholly, completely, and totally absorbed in themselves. They want to do what they want to do, whether or not it is a good idea, whether or not they could get killed doing it, and whether or not the timing is right. The fact that they aim to please only themselves means that, quite often, what they want to do runs right smack into what you told them not to do. That’s when things get sticky. They have to choose to do the right thing.
At our house, we are all about choices. “You always have a choice,” I tell my kids. “If someone holds a gun to your head, you have a choice.” The problem is that the choices stink. You can do what the gunman wants, or you can risk getting shot. No matter how much I talk about alcohol, drugs, sex, and other dangers, my teenagers ultimately have to decide for themselves how they are going to behave. The challenge for me is to convince them to choose wisely. “When you make a choice,” I tell my kids, “you better be able to live with the consequences—in the big world and at home.” It’s a toss-up whom they fear more: me or God Almighty. “You always have to pay the piper,” I remind them. With regard to sex, for example, I say, “Please don’t allow ten minutes of fun result in eighteen years of child rearing. Once you have a child, that kid’s needs become more important than yours. Got it?” You can’t be vague with teenagers. You have to lay it on the line and hope they pick up what you put down.
Disciplining teenagers requires subtlety and creativity. You have to find a way to get them where it hurts without actually hurting them. I’ve found one of the most vulnerable areas on a teenager is the plug-in soft spot. My teenagers are attached to their cell phones, iPods, computers, and televisions with umbilical cords. One of the fastest ways to get their attention is to cut that cord. I promise you one thing: if you do this, your teenagers will pay attention to you. They may yell like they’re being hacked to death with machetes, but they will hear what you have to say. Remind them that Mama giveth and Mama taketh away. It’s all about finding the balance between rewards and consequences. It’s a delicate dance.
Like most families, our run-of-the-mill, go-to consequence is grounding. In a nutshell, that means the teenager is restricted to the home front for whatever time period we designate. The teenager goes to school and whatever activity or event other people depend upon him or her for (why punish the whole baseball team because my kid misbehaved?), but that’s all. His or her social life comes to a grinding halt. Sometimes, the kid gets to keep phone, television, or computer privileges, sometimes not. It depends on the nature and the magnitude of the crime. Was there premeditation? Was actual malice involved, or was it just a bonehead, spur-of-the-moment impulse? Was it a have-you-lost-your-mind choice or merely a what-were-you-thinking transgression?
The downside for the rest of the family is that the gloomy, bad-tempered, grounded teen is confined to the house—where everyone lives. On more than one occasion, a grounded teen in our home has added time to his or her sentence by behaving poorly while still under house arrest. It happens. Some monkeys learn faster than others.
Unlike most mamas, I do not allow grounded teenagers to lounge around. In my view, whatever the teen has done to result in a consequence of significance has caused harm to the family as a whole. The peace of the home has been disrupted—usually by screaming, at the very least. As a consequence, that teenager owes reparation to the family. In other words, the teen has some making up to do. My kids are assigned jobs when they are grounded. I’m not talking make-work either. I mean real work. We live in an old house. Something always needs w
ork.
We have three children and two parents in our family. Every day, more work needs to be done than two parents can possibly do, no matter what time we get up in the morning (while the teenagers who kept us up all night sleep in). Therefore, I always have a to-do list on my desk. On that list are small jobs and big jobs, dirty jobs and clean(ing) jobs, outside work and inside work, mindless tasks and you-must-be-smart-to-handle-this jobs. Every second that the grounded teen is not eating, sleeping, or going to school is time that can be spent working and improving the world around them. If I can’t think of anything appropriate (hasn’t ever happened and never will), I’ll farm my kids out to elderly neighbors like indentured servants. We’re all about giving back to the community.
My kids have frequently been sentenced to spend the day polishing silver. I am especially quick to assign this punishment if we have a dinner party coming up soon. My kids have learned to be especially well behaved the day before a party. You’d be amazed how well those slim adolescent fingers can get into crevices with an old toothbrush to polish antique filigree. It’s good for them to learn a new life skill, silver polishing, while serving a sentence for misbehaving. I love to double-dip. It is twice as satisfying. The result: clean silver and a repentant, silver-savvy teen. It’s win-win.
Another obvious choice for punishment is yard work. This is particularly helpful if your teen is vocal about how unfairly he or she believes the imposed consequence is. If he’s composing a letter to The Hague accusing you of crimes against humanity, tell him to take it outside. In the great outdoors, he can vent to the earth and sky to his heart’s content. It’s a cleansing exercise. Let him get it all out of his system while digging a hole for your new gardenia bush. You don’t have to listen.
I've Had It Up to Here with Teenagers Page 4
