The Teen Brain Two-Step

"Now would I say something that wasn't true?
I'm asking you sugar
Would I lie to you?"

—Eurythmics, Would I Lie to You?

I remember teen brain. Oh, do I ever. Although it's funny to say that now decades later when I didn't remember much then about things I did then. Like completely spacing out on things. Or, I just didn't want to remember them because I wasn't supposed to do them, and so I lied about them because I didn't want to get into trouble. Or, because I didn't want to do them when I was supposed to do them, and so I lied about doing them because I didn't want to get into trouble. 

Shall we dance?

Teen brain development goes on for years until at least our mid-twenties based on research I've read. Teen brains are more susceptible to stress, but are more adaptable the resilient that what adults give them credit for, because there is a big learning curve. However, the prefrontal cortex is one of the last brain regions to mature and is responsible for skills like planning, prioritizing, and controlling impulses.

Which is why teen brain can be bonkers at times, like lying about stuff. I do remember lying to my parents, or wanting to lie about something, more than once, what many of us did at that age.

Take for example the time I fell out of a moving truck when I was almost 16. Yes, a moving truck. There were no alcohol or drugs involved, just teen brain stupidity. My friend at the time, who was 16 and had his license, was driving me and another friend around the neighborhood in his truck. We were in the back of the truck sitting on either side of the truck bed. Above the bed actually, sitting up on the sides of the truck with only our hands holding on as we sat. 

So, what did we do then? My friend and I in the back of the truck begin to rock the truck. Because it was fun. We laughed and rocked — until my friend driving began to swerve back and forth. That's when things took a teen brain turn for the worse. 

I flipped over the side of the truck going around 25 miles per hour. My chest hit the moving back tire and I put my hand out to stop my fall. I hit face down on the asphalt and rolled over 10 feet (according to my other friend who didn't fall out). Both friends ran over to me, the one driving extremely apologetic, to see how I was. It was dusk now and we were under a street light. I remember asking how bad it was as I held up my right hand I used to break my fall that was now fat and swollen (and broken I'd find out the next day). 

They both looked at each other and then me again and said, "It's bad."

I remember I said, "Maybe I'll just tell my parents I got in a fight."

The other friend who was in the back of the truck with me shook his head and said, "With the road maybe. No, you know you've never been in a fight, Kevin. They'll know you're lying. You'll have to tell them the truth."

And there it was. So, that time, I didn't end up lying to cover my butt, because it would've made it worse. Weeks later when the road rash across my face, chest, and legs was healed up, and the case on my hand came off, and I wasn't grounded any longer, it was back to teen brain business as usual. 

Hopefully our daughters won't have this kind of literal painful teen brain moment, but the odds are there will be some things in the years to come. Maybe not falling out of the back of a truck something — good God, not that. But we are already experiencing teen brain now, and that includes saying that chores were done, when obviously they were not. 

Compared to falling out of the back of a truck and wanting to lie about it, lying about doing one's chores is pretty mild. But it's still something as parents we have to deal with. My default setting is always to go punitive, to confront the lying and to take allowance money away if the chores weren't done. My wife on the other hand reminds me that teenage brain will double down on the lies when called out. We both had plenty of experience with that when we were their age. 

Instead, we compromised and said the chores had to be done again, which after some protest they were, and in the future would have to be done when we're around to verify they were done. Not that we didn't believe they weren't done, just that we need to verify they got done. 

That's pretty much the same thing as not believing they were done, because they weren't, but that's the teen brain two-step we'll be dancing for the next decade. 

A Wonderful Thing To Witness

The ripped chip bag rested peacefully on the kitchen counter. Although its usefulness had come to an end, and the remaining potato chips now sat safely in a resealable bag, its demise was a violent one. There wasn't just one random rip down the side of the bag -- there were multiple shreds -- as if ripped apart by sharp talons of a hungry animal. 

"Beatrice, let me show you again how to open up the chip bags," I said to our oldest daughter. 

"It's really hard to open!" Bea exclaimed.

And so it goes. Not only about opening up chip and cereal bags, but also resealing them with clips. 

"Girls, let me show you again how to clip the bags shut," I said to both our girls, holding up a bag of cereal and a clip. "Fold the open end a couple of times and then clip it, like this. That way the stuff inside stays fresh."

"Okay, Dad. We'll do it," they both said.

Which then they don't, half-sealing or leaving open on the table. And so it goes. We keep practicing Positive Discipline, though, and now that our children are flying headlong into teenage-land, there will be constant reminders like these. Over and over and over again. 

The good news is that for the past few years they've received an allowance for doing specific chores each week around the house. And those things they do, with the occasional reminder or two. Sometimes with a serving or two of teen sass as well. 

We're okay with that because we're eons from the days of wiping buts and noses. We do miss those days of their childhood (but not really the wiping buts part), especially when our phones pop up photo memories from years past. But mercy me -- Beatrice is cooking now! And both our daughters are transforming into responsible and accountable human beings, finding their individuality and independence with eyes of love and empathy. 

Recently after the bitter freezing cold weather that stretched all the way down into Texas, Beatrice announced she wanted to do something. She announced this at the end of one of our weekly family meetings. 

"I want to give to Texas," said Beatrice.

"You do?" I said.

"Yes, because of the water and power problems. People need help," she said.

"Do you both want to donate your allowance 'give' money you saved?" said their mom, Amy.

"Yes," Bea and Bryce said. 

"Then we'll match it," said Amy.

Another big milestone arrived recently as well -- one that involves a developing independence. The girls have spent more and more time alone at home by themselves when Amy and I are going for a walk or a hike or running errands. However, this latest milestone was a different kind of alone, one involving venturing into the world without Mom and Dad. Every Saturday there is a farmers' market across the street from us. It's the beginning of a highway actually, but there is a four-way stoplight at the intersection with "walk - don't walk" signals. 

The girls really wanted to go by themselves and get some yummy treats. We agreed and then reviewed our safety plans about crossing the street. We also reviewed our Kidpower safety about being on their own and being calm, confident and aware about everything and every person around them as they walked to the farmers' market and back again. We gave them some money and reminded them to buy us carrots with the greens so our rabbit could eat the greens. 

Off they went. "Should we follow them?" I asked Amy. 

"No, let them go. They'll be okay," she said. 

The girls don't have phones yet, although that will change this year as they start doing more things on their own, and as they finally get to go back to in-person school (Bea will be in 7th grade and Bryce in 5th in the fall!). And while they struggle with opening and closing chip and cereal bags, among other things that we as adults take for granted (and can also still struggle with), their path to independence is a wonderful thing to witness and an honor to be a part of. 

The Primary Pooper Scoopers

 

She had left the spray cleaner and the dirty wet paper towel in the sink. 

"Beatrice!" I called out.

"What?" 

"Please come put away the cleaner and throw the paper towel away."

"Why?"

"Because the job isn't done until everything's put away."

"Fine."

Reluctantly Beatrice trudged into the kitchen and did what I asked. Which I shouldn't have had to ask, since this is something we repeat over and over again. 

But then again, we have come a long way from little kid world, where like most parents, my wife Amy and I did all the things (yes, Amy does more of the things, but I do things, too!). This included cleaning around the house, putting their toys away, emptying the dishwasher, folding clothes, getting the mail, feeding the pets, walking the dog in the rain and picking up her poop, etc. 

Like that part in one of our favorite holiday movies The Family Man, when Jack Campbell and his wife Kate return from the Christmas party and their dog needs to go outside. Jack doesn't want to do it and Kate jokes that she'll wake up their toddler Josh to walk the dog out in the cold snow. Of course they don't do that, so Jack acquiesces and walks the dog, like he does every day and night, picking up the dog poop along the way.

For those who have seen the movie (we've watching it every year since it came out in 2000 when we saw it in the theater), you may remember this part when Jack, Kate and their kids are in the mall shopping and Jack wants to buy the expensive suit:

Jack: Do you have any idea what my life is like?

Kate : Excuse me?

Jack : I wake up in the morning covered in dog saliva. I drop the kids off, spend 8 hours selling tires retail. Retail, Kate. I pick the kids up, walk the dog, which by the way, carries the added bonus of carting away her monstrous crap. I play with the kids, take out the garbage, get 6 hours of sleep if I'm lucky and then everything starts all over again. So-so what's in it for me? Wh-where are my-my Mary Janes?

That's something Amy and I joke about all the time -- one of our many ongoing catch phrases -- Where are my Mary Janes?

Because really, what are we going to do? Make our little kiddos do all the housework? Don't get me wrong, we thought about it once they start to walk and make messes everywhere they walked. But, this isn't Little House on the Prairie, and we don't live way out in the country or have a farm or a dairy, so instead, we waited until we thought they were old enough to be more responsible around the house. About two years ago we started giving our girls an allowance based on completing chores around the house. When you first teach your kids to help around the house, it's more about the act of doing chores and learning the value of money for work, then it is getting the chores done like we the adults in the room want them to get done. 

They are just kids after all and there is a learning curve to getting housework right. When I was their age, my sister and I learned how to clean house from our mother. Although both my sister and I had our standard chores, Mom learned quickly that if she wanted the chores done more thoroughly, she'd ask me, although I took a long time to get them done. I was a daydreamer and dawdler, that's for sure. But when Mom wanted the chores done quickly, like when if we were going to have company coming over at a specific time, then the work went to my sister, who was super efficient (and I would argue just as thorough as well, even if there were a few shortcuts here and there). 

Our girls more or less complete their chores with the same speed and efficiency, except when they tell us they did one and it's obvious that they didn't do it (that'll be a future post). One of the things our youngest Bryce does is to vacuum downstairs. She does a pretty good job, although we have to remind her to vacuum every part of open carpet, and I still go over the traffic areas again myself. Our oldest Beatrice cleans all the sinks and the granite counters, although we have to remind her to not just smear the cleaner around on the counters, but to wipe and dry them off, too. 

And then to put the dang cleaner away and throw away the paper towel!

But they're working on it and we continue to incrementally add chores for them to do while ensuring completion of each one -- and until the job is done. Since we're home all the time due to the ongoing pandemic, there's never been a better time to add more chores. The girls even negotiate with us now, especially when they want to earn more money for stuff they want, like when Beatrice bought her iPad from the bank of Mom and Dad. 

This also includes walking our dog, Jenny, even walking her in the rain like the girls just did with me, although Mom and Dad are still the primary pooper scoopers. 

"So, where are our Mary Janes," I said to Amy when we returned, again referencing The Family Man.

She laughed. "Exactly, but really, where are my Mary Janes, Dad! I've been cleaning this house since 6:30 am! C'mon!"

"We love you, Mom!"

Other "Days of Coronavirus" posts:

The Little Wooden Reindeer

A Well-Being Worth Practicing

A Grateful Tree

It's This Moment That Matters

The Bank of Mom and Dad

Something to Celebrate

The Haunted Garden

Mapping the Way

Mask Up First For Your Families

All Because of One Day on the Beach

Awash in Love and Hope

The Building Blocks of Healthy Lives

The Part Where All Lives Matter

The Clarity Bridge for Homelessness

Stars to Shine

Loving Community Wide Shots Abound

A Foundation Worth Saving

This Hit-And-Run Thunderstorm

Help Prevent the Back-to-School Bullying

Memories Now and to Come

Especially Our Kids

This Old "No" Guy Jedi

Choose Eyes of Love

The Morning Work

We Shared Blue Genes

Agree to Disintegration

The Teacher Parade

All These Things Can Lead To Grace

Our Freedom Is Always Welcome

A Well of Strength

This Bad History

No Shirts, No Shoes, No Problem

The Iceberg Underneath

The Healing Hope We Can Give

Donate Your Date Nights and Help Feed Families

About All The Things

Dad, Our Family's Computer Guy

The Newest Normal

Where Our Troubles Are All The Same

This Is The Life

When There's Nowhere to Go

Jenny, Jenny, Who Can I Turn To 

It Always Burns a Hole

"Big money make a million dreams
Big money spin big deals
Big money make a mighty head
Big money spin big wheels..."

–Rush, Big Money

Because it always burns a hole in their pockets. The moolah. The cheddar. The dough. The cash so hot its molten gravity opens up the earth and speeds toward the glowing core to super-ignite and annihilate the universe.

Or, more accurately, it wants to head to a nearby store. For new toys or treats and other random crap. The girls have been earning their own money, kind of, off and on for the past year, maybe more. The Mama (what I lovingly call my wife) helped them identify something to do -- fold the clothes, unload the dishwasher, wipe off the counters, feed the bunny, unpack their backpacks, etc. I bring the air support, kind of, reminding them to do their tasks if they want to earn the designated amount of money.

The money that burns a hole in their pockets. But we have to start somewhere.

For me, it all started as a child around eight years old with a $0.25 weekly allowance. That's one quarter per week for my sister and I helping our mom around the house. Yes, it was a long, long time ago, and we did grow up with very little extra money -- just enough to barely make ends meet. But, our mom did want to instill in us a sense of responsibility and reward. And after a few weeks, that amount of money went a lot farther back then at drugstores (five and dimes) like Thrifty's and Woolworth's.

Wow, do any of these kids today even know what five and dime means? I know, right? Probably not. Our kids certainly don't. However, they do know the dollar stores, and that's a place where a dollar can still go a long, long way.

Then, with our crazy and abusive first step-dad, my sister and I got a dollar per week allowance -- but, we'd get demerits, money subtracted from our allowance if we did something wrong and/or didn't complete our chores around the house. My poor sister got the brunt of this punitive approach, sometimes ending up with a deficit that ate away at future allowances.

I'm lifetimes away from those days now, and the Mama and I haven't and won't take that approach. We're fortunate to have a little extra cash to spend on our kids than either of us had as children. And that's why we want them to learn the value of earning their own money that they can spend on whatever they want. Within reason.

Which is why the Mama brought home an idea from a friend about "saving, giving and spending" money. This means that we'll have them save a portion of their allowance, give away a portion of their allowance to help others, and to then spend a portion of their allowance -- the part they're most excited about, of course. We've been talking about establishing a more regular allowance for both girls based on completing weekly tasks, at least one to two tasks each per week (I want two, but the Mama says let's get them consistent on one first). And then they could earn extra if they did even more, beyond the allowance task/s and the everyday things they have to do anyway, something the Mama and I didn't exactly agree on (another story for another time), but have worked through.

Now each week they'll get six dollars each week (I know, right?) for allowance for completing their tasks/chores/whatever you want to call them. And each week they have to put at least $1 in each of the "save" and "give" envelopes we've designated for them, and then the balance can go into the "spend" envelope, which they can use at the dollar store, or for bigger ticket items when we go to Disneyland over Christmas.

It's funny, because our oldest, Beatrice, just watched a commercial about Universal Studios and celebrating the holidays at Harry Potter World. I said we'd go there someday, even if she didn't care for Harry Potter (I know, right?).

"But I do want to go," she said. "Let's go there."

"No, we'll go there someday," I said. "But we're going to Disneyland again this year. It costs a lot of money to go to these parks. Guess how much it costs just for our Disneyland tickets."

"Um...a million dollars," Beatrice said, amused with herself.

"No, not quite. Try again."

"Twenty-thousand dollars."

"Nope."

"Twelve thousand dollars."

"Nope. Not that much. Goodness, we wouldn't even go once for that much."

"I don't know then."

"One thousand and five hundred dollars for all four tickets. So you better start saving."

"I'm already saving for the girl Stitch stuffed animal at Disneyland. You have to pay for the rest."

Of course we do. I know, right?

Because it always burns a hole in our pockets. A really big friggin' hole. And we're grateful we can afford the hole. For now, at least. Which is why we also do our best to practice what we preach, with the saving and the giving, especially coming back from the brink of oblivion during the great recession, still not so long ago, like so many others have done.

Yes, it always burns a hole, this fragility of finance, and yet the economy is humming again. For now, at least. Teaching our children financial responsibility is serious business.

"Big money got a heavy hand
Big money take control
Big money got a mean streak
Big money got no soul..."

Our Gig Economy Kids

We're in in the business of no.

"No, you can't fill the sink and wash your horse."

"No, you can't slide down the stairs on your butt."

"No, you can't pretend the guinea pigs are your puppets."

"Oh, and please remember to shut the freezer all the way after you've opened it."

"We do shut it!"

"No, you don't."

Sigh.

So many no's nearly everything single day, that if they weren't kids with still-developing frontal lobes and personal awareness and impulse control, they'd probably be posting bad reviews on the parenting-as-business equivalents to Glassdoor, kununu and Indeed. If you're not familiar with these online platforms, they're employer job sites and review sites where job candidates and employees can post anonymous reviews about their job search and employment experiences with any particular company. Candidate experience is real for both kids and adults and can be positive and negative.

So, like talent acquisition professionals everyday, we as parents are in the business of no. Except that we're not saying no to 99 out of 100 different people who are applying for our jobs, we're saying no 99 out of 100 times to our children who are doing questionable things and who aren't doing the jobs we want them to do.

Over and over and over again.

It comes with the parenting territory. They are the raw talent and we're doing everything we can to teach them well and skill them up. To the point that one day they'll take what we've taught them -- combined with what they've gleaned from peers, teachers and even other bosses once they start working for reals -- they'll take all that and apply it to their future world of work. Maybe even apply their maturing #BhivePower as we like to call it, their aspiring gumption, and become entrepreneurial to make their own way for themselves as well as many others who may work for them someday.

"No, you can't dump any more of your tiny Shopkin toys onto the floor, but you can start picking the ones that are out and everything else on the floor. Please. Now. Thank you."

"No!"

"Yes, right now."

"It's so unfair."

"Pick up your toys."

Sigh.

"And please remember to close the freezer after you've opened it."

"We do close it!"

"You do not -- not all the way."

"We do too!"

Sigh.

It comes with the kid territory. To want to play, play, play and then not put anything away (or shut freezer doors all the way). But once they're old enough to start listening and taking care of business, no matter how much they fight it, then it's a win. And then you have independent contractors under your roof that aren't subject to federal, state or local employment laws. Contractors with benefits who benefit us.

No, we don't have them making t-shirts for sale out the of garage, so no need to report us. But we do want to instill a sense of responsibility that comes with some tangible rewards, like the money to buy the tiny toys they love to dump out onto the floor and play with.

At first it was the one-off's, the "please help me clean off the counter and you can earn a dollar to buy that thing you want." We've done that for the past couple of years and then the Mama (what I affectionately call my wife) more recently developed a chore chart and we've graduated the girls to an allowance. It's a weekly paycheck of sorts that they can make up to $X -- but only if they complete their chores. Otherwise, their allowance will be commensurate with what they actually do, something that's definitely non-negotiable in our little world of work.

Is it the most effective and efficient application of chore doing getting done? Of course not. Have you seen our daughters clean the kitchen counters off with a cleaning wipe? Tiny concentric circles that swipe quickly across the counters, only moving bacteria from one concentric circle to another.

Life hacks gotta start somewhere, though. And at some point we definitely need to depend on our children to help get us keep the house in order and get the stuff done that needs doing, week after week, day after day. It should serve them well into young adulthood, and at least for now it's working. Mostly with our oldest, Beatrice, although Bryce will come along (if she wants the money).

It comes with the parenting territory. They are our gig economy kids and we're doing everything we can to teach them well and skill them up with enough (mostly) positive life experiences that will offset their eventual personal upsets and downsizes.

Later, after they've gone to bed, I say:

"The girls still aren't shutting the freezer all the way, and every time the temperature just climbs and climbs, and I'm the one who has to shut it tight."

Pause. The Mama shrugs.

"Honey, relax about the freezer door. It's not the end of the world. I try to make sure it's shut."

Pause. I shake my head.

"No, I'm the one who shuts it all the time."

Pause. The Mama shrugs.

"Hey, at least they wipe their own butts now."

Pause. I nod.

"Sure, but they don't flush all the time."

Pause. The Mama shrugs. 

"So, you'll make sure they close the freezer tight?"

The Mama walks away.

Sigh.