Just when you think youve got the parenting thing all figured out, your kids stop making sense.
Dude, whats crackalackin? Im hella spent, your 14-year-old will say, collapsing on the sofa as she picks bits of Sugar Daddy out of her braces. If I dont, like, marinate, the brodads are gonna think Imma grimey.
Uh huh, youll respond, nodding and trying to play along. I know.
Shell stare at you for a moment. Mom, shell say darkly, tears springing to her eyes. I cant believe you think Im a grimey. Shell flee, slamming her door so hard the whole house shakes.
I love grimeys, youll call after her. Really, honey, I think grimeys are da bomb! But it will be of no use. In the span of one minute, you will have widened the Generational Canyon another 300 feet. And, as usual, it will be all your fault.
So when my eldest stepdaughter called me out the other day in front of my entire family, I really shouldnt have been surprised.
You never chat with us anymore! she glowered during an argument. You only punish! I stared at her, aghast. I did, in fact, chat with both my teens pretty regularly, but lately, our conversations left something to be desired. A simple statement like, Ann Taylor Loft has a big sale today. Wanna go? was likely to be met with, Are you bent? AT Loft is bobo fo shiggedy, my weeble.
Youre grounded, on the other hand, is a universal language, one both parents and teenagers can understand. Which one do you think Im going to use?
Youre forgetting about something, my husband said calmly when I complained to him later about the whole mess.
What?
Youre forgetting about the power of the text.
No wonder he looked so smug. Hubs had been texting back and forth with the girls for months, and while his first text, which said, simply, FOOT, had produced much merriment at the dinner table, eventually hed gotten better at it. As a result, his relationship with the girls was growing by leaps and bounds, while mine well, I wouldnt exactly call it off the heezy.
Desperate to win the girls back to my side, I did the unthinkable I took Hubs advice. That night, I read A Parents Online Guide to Teen Lingo, and once school let out the next day, I dug up my barely used cell phone and got to texting.
Twelve minutes later, my first message was ready to go. Wazzup? it said. How wuz skoolz? I read it back to myself proudly before sending it on to my 15-year-old. Skoolz was a particularly nice touch, I thought. It had a certain edgy flair.
Seconds later, I received an answer. You figured it out! the message read. You gangsta you! My stepdaughter called me a gangsta? I glowed with pride. We were well on our way to a more meaningful relationship.
Over the next few days, I tried to text my girls often, and in the process, I learned something important about myself: My life was very, very dull. Im just chillin wit ma gnomes here how bout u? I wrote to my eldest one mid-morning, while feeding her younger brother and sister a snack. Not surprisingly, she didnt respond.
But while I didnt get very many texts back from the girls, Hubs texted me incessantly. Whats up, a typical missive from him read. I frowned and ignored it. Any good mail, he texted a few minutes later. Puh-leeze. That had to be the most boring text ever. Annoyed, I turned off my cell phone and put it in my purse.
Thats when the phone rang. Why didnt you answer my texts? he demanded.
You expect me to take 10 minutes to text an answer to Any good mail? I asked. No, thank you.
Youre supposed to text right back after you get one, he insisted. Thats how it works.
Thats, like, so not how it works! my oldest stepdaughter giggled later when I told the girls about my predicament. Was he for rizzle?
Totally, my 15-year-old said, nodding her head. If I dont text Dad right back, dude starts texting me over and over again. Answer me. Answer me. Answer me. Hes off his rector.
Deezam, I said. Your dad needs to pump his brakes and chillax. The girls nodded fervently. Reveling in their attention, I kept going. I mean, I dont like to dog on him, but sometimes he can be such a fizzle! He is such a texting noob. Oh, I hated making fun of Hubs, of course, but I was sure hed understand.
When it comes to communicating with teens, a parent must do whatever it takes.