Parenting in America Summer 2008

I was ready to review the information collected by my daughters, but oldest says it isn't ready yet. She wants to do more research on Claire McCaskill, a United States Senator from Missouri. I told her to take her time, because getting all the information correct when doing research is very important. I may tackle the issue of verification of facts in a future post, but this morning I decided I need to share some of my observations on what Oldest has been doing with her time this summer.

Immediately upon our return to the Lehigh Valley, she announced she wanted to get a job.
My oldest girl, working? This pleases me, but it also is an admission that she will soon leave my protective nest. It's unnerving, but also gratifying.
Two weeks ago, as we were driving around running errands, she saw the sign posted on the main road. "Now Hiring 14 year olds."
"Can I apply Mom?"

OOOOH. That was tough. For the sake of anonymity, lets call the establishment Big Chain Fast Food, or BCFF. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I went in with her, and asked to see the manager. It turned out to be a great Mother Daughter bonding experience, as if we needed any more bonding. She regularly complains that I "Hover" and I grounded her last year when I realized she was making helicopter noises (or at least trying to) every time I entered in her room.
I helped her fill out her application, gave her references to use, and sat patiently with her as the job was described to her. Cleaning tables, mopping floors, and taking out garbage were on the list, but so was working food prep, and possibly the counter when she turns 16 in December.
The woman manager made an effort to deal with me honestly, and I felt comfortable putting my daughter under her oversight. When she asked when oldest would like to start, I felt my stomach flop over. There was no denying my daughter this experience.
"Can I Mom?"

So last Thursday was her first day at BCFF, and after her first 4 hour shift, I picked her up at 9 PM, and she immediately regaled me with the true story behind the soda dispensers, and how she was never drinking anything from one EVER again. She had been shown how to clean it, and it had "grossed her out." There's just some lessons a Mother can't teach, you know?

Anyhow, one of my oldest local acquaintances, had the nerve, in the presence of oldest, to voice her criticism of my parenting decisions, because I was MAKING my daughter work. This ill informed, mindless Stepford Mom, as my ex would have called her, thinks it is a shame that someone with my financial situation would make their child work.

I'm not making her work, she asked to, and I agreed. My son, the oldest, who just turned 17, would be working full time if he hadn't badly broken his ankle playing baseball. As it is, he's been using my dad's riding mower to do lawns, (with his 12 year old little sister helping, and sharing the proceeds) and he is studying very hard to take his SAT. My brother has been teaching him how to do maintenance on computers, and paying him for his help. My kids know there is no free lunch.
I make a very healthy salary, and my ex pays a healthy chunk in support and college funds, so yes, I am well off, and I'm not ashamed of that. My point here is, and I do have one, is that we parents have an obligation to teach our children the value of money, and how to earn their own.
A case in point that I cite is a situation from several years ago, where a youngster in the community totaled 4 cars before he was 18. After the fourth accident, (and I still don't know how he kept his license) his parents punished him by waiting two weeks to buy him a new car.

That's not exactly tough love, is it?!
And my point is that boy didn't appreciate what he had, and didn't care for it. If we do everything for our kids, they don't learn to be as self sufficient or responsible as they should.
Too many kids spend their free time vegging in front of the Nintendo, laying on the couch, or bored on the computer. I have strict rules, and one of them is they can't work all the time. Oldest daughter is restricted to 20 hours a week, no exceptions. It might sound sexist, but son wants a car, and ex and I have agreed he can have the 86 Buick Skylark in the garage. It still runs, and it passed inspection, so once he gets insurance money, he can have it, for the small sum of $500, paid up front to me. (But that also entails his getting his license, which I can't avoid much longer)

I am not the Mom anyone would want to use as an example of great parenting. We have our moments in the Soccer Mom household, I've been told I'm a bitch, I've also been told more times than I can count that "you don't love me" or "You don't love me as much as so and so."
But I put those moments off, because there always that moment, like when oldest looked at me across the table at BCFF and asked "Can I Mom?" that make me so damn proud.
Parenting is the most painful experience, but it is also the most uplifting.
I might be on my own, but I am muddling through.