Mother of a Man-Child

My life with teenage boys

Deciphering Man-Child language April 16, 2010

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We all know the language used by teenagers – normally a grunt and some incomprehensible words if you are lucky.  Oh and maybe a passing text message if they think you might like to know their whereabouts.  And a “pleeeaaaasssse” said ever so sweetly when suddenly they want something, or need a lift somewhere, or extra pocket-money, or are in trouble at school and want a note for the teacher.

I am always amused by the TV ad for Nutrigrain that features a young 14-year-old surfer, grunting so sweetly at his smiling mother whilst they translate on the screen for the audience.  I guess it’s funny, except it’s so far removed from reality for this mother of teenage children that it’s almost offensive that they’ve laced this situation with saccharine.  I guess since I worked in advertising for more than 15 years I’m the ultimate cynic and the harshest critic when it comes to a slice of reality in advertising.

Anyway, in the interests of my audience I thought it might be useful to provide you with a glossary of terms that our teenage children are currently using, so you can at least attempt to decipher some of their mutterings, and maybe, just maybe, not embarrass them with your “old-fashioned” sayings – yes something our children often comment on – talk about make you feel ancient!

Here’s the current list, which I may need to add to over time.  And credit where it’s due – this was put together with the assistance of Man-Child I and Man-Child II.

  • CBS = Can’t be stuffed
  • Tank = Buff.  (In my day “tanked” = pissed)
  • Tight = Strict.  (In my day “tight” or “tight-arse” = someone who was not generous with their money)
  • Rents = Parents.  Yep, that’s us……LOL
  • Scarn (said bogan style)  = What’s going on?  This is currently the voice mail message of Man-Child I – not very polite is it?
  • Mint Biddy = Good looking girl.  Guess it’s the opposite of old biddy – at least the biddy bit hasn’t changed!
  • Youse arkin’? = Are you arking up?  (Interpretation – messing up)
  • G-Fez = Glenferrie Road.  Sounds like a strange sort of hat if you ask me.

There are another couple of acronyms, but not appropriate on the WWW.  But trust me, if you hear your kids say or use the phrase “DMC”, whack them first, ask questions later.  🙂

 

World Wrestling April 11, 2010

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If you are ever short on entertainment, perhaps you could drop into our house for some live World Wrestling Entertainment (WWE on Pay TV for those who are fans!).  Yes, on any given night (normally when our 6-year-old daughter is trying to go to sleep) you will hear the sounds of two testosterone pumped boys doing their best impression of world wrestling right in their own lounge room.

Whilst we try to avoid it most nights, sometimes it’s just impossible to ignore the screams of Teen-Child –  he’s mastered the art of bellowing so much, that we now recognise it as simply a case of good acting, not actual injury, except maybe to his pride.  Coupled with the bellowing is a regular case of crocodile tears – just to extract maximum sympathy from any onlookers.  Meanwhile Man-Child – not one for tears – just channels all his energy into physical strength to ensure he doesn’t lose.  He is highly competitive.

To be honest, I have no idea who wins on any given night.  Occasionally we will watch with amusement, although I can’t really do this for very long.  I don’t like violence, even if it is healthy “play fighting” – and I use that term very loosely in the case of our boys.  Again, as very different boys I guess their differences are bound to boil over occasionally, and to result in physical attacks against each other.  I don’t imagine it’s any different in other houses with males of a close age.  I distinctly recall as a youngster  watching a friends teenage brothers chase each other around the kitchen table, and I was sure they were going to kill each other!  But then I was one of four girls, so my exposure to this sort of behaviour had been fairly limited – although trust me girls have their own unique version of fighting.

When our boys were little we always said they were like puppy dogs – always better after a good run in the park to burn off some energy.  Now as adolescent males, my view (and those of many others) is that they just can’t do enough sport.  It keeps them busy before and after school and on weekends, expends massive amounts of energy, and is a healthy alternative to some other activities they might otherwise choose.

Game on!

 

The minimalist approach to hygiene March 30, 2010

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I am quite fascinated by the approach to hygiene in our house.  For all the smells boys can create, I am staggered that Man-Child and his twin brother Teenage-Child are not more fastidious about their own hygiene (then again, maybe they can’t smell it themselves?).

I know boys in a contained space can smell quite revolting, especially if you leave a door closed for a few hours, or worse still overnight, but mine are either very good at airing their bedrooms, or ensuring their stinking, smelly shoes are put in the laundry so they transfer the smells to another location.  Oh and spraying Lynx just before bed if there are any offending odours lingering in their bedrooms.

Often times I will have to remind them to actually wash their hair – it seems for boys it’s just a complete waste of time to have to do this on a regular basis, and not something you do when your hair needs to look clean, but maybe when your head is itchy and clearly full of dirt?!

I did have to laugh the other day when Teenage-Child (who is actually fast becoming very like Man-Child Mark II) headed off on Saturday afternoon to a friend’s place.  I knew he was staying the night, so enquired where his overnight bag was.  He looked at me like I had asked where his second head was, and asked why he would want a bag that he would simply have to drag around all afternoon?  I of course suggested maybe he needed a pair of boxers to sleep in, some clean jocks for the next day and a toothbrush – the minimum requirements I would have thought.  His response – Nah, I’ll just sleep in my clothes and get up tomorrow morning.  She’ll be right.  Like I was a complete idiot!!!

I guess the upside of the above is that they’re probably helping keep our water consumption low.  I must make a note of how many of their mates actually shower at our place when they have a sleepover – just to reassure myself that mine are normal!

 

Hotel Kew – room for rent! March 23, 2010

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Since I run such a successful hotel, I have decided to offer rooms for rent.  After all, my current tenants (Man-Child and Teen-Child) certainly seem happy with the service, so I figure it’s time I made some money on the side.

After all, where else can you go for the following services, all at no cost:

  1. A fridge and pantry permanently full of food and drinks.
  2. Clothes picked up from the floor, and magically whisked away to the laundry for washing, folding, ironing at least twice a week, thereby ensuring you are never short of required clothing.
  3. Lunch (sandwiches) prepared fresh each morning with the ingredients of your choice.
  4. Hot and healthy dinner served daily with accompanying cold refreshments.
  5. Door to door taxi service available at your beck and call to transport you to numerous events, friends houses, sporting commitments etc.
  6. Empty plates/bowls automatically collected from the floor/wherever they are left and carted to the dishwasher for washing.  Even the dishwasher in our hotel seems to remarkably empty itself each morning, thereby ensuring the “house guests” are not inconvenienced.
  7. Towels cleaned regularly (with or without dirty footprints) and sheets laundered.
  8. Homework assistance provided, and countless forms filled in for any school or club functions.
  9. Birthday and Christmas presents naturally provided, with all the magic of Santa Claus.  Even gifts for friends and family are provided as required.

Of course the concierge (that would be me) can basically cater to your every need, so if the above list is missing anything, please let me know upon booking your room! 🙂

 

A media beat up? Or not? March 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 9:02 pm
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No doubt everyone is well aware of the recent issues with knives in Melbourne.  It seems every second day there are young people (100% of them male from reports I have seen) who are caught carrying knives, or worse still inflicting harm upon someone else with their weapon of choice.

It’s a sad state of affairs when you realise just how close to home the kids and their knives are.  Our Teen-Child recently asked if he and some friends could catch the train to a skate park on the west side of town, for a session at the end of the school holidays.  I knew of the skate park, as he had visited it with a friend before, whose father had kindly driven them, and checked the venue out to ensure it was well-run.

But being the mother of a teenager, there were a few things that alarmed me instantly:

  1. Teen-Child had never caught the train to the said location, and didn’t even know which line to catch (via Flinders Street even worse).  Moreover, he’s normally on the tram, not trains, which makes it a bit harder.
  2. The friends he was going with I had never met.  They were all “skate-park friends”, and some attended the same school, but nevertheless I didn’t know them (or their parents) at all.
  3. Being the paranoid mother I am, I also worried about my son on the train, with his brand new Nike runners, mobile phone and $250 Razor scooter.  A prime target for some “thugs” in my view.  (To be fair my paranoia is probably warranted, especially since a mate of my boys only recently got “rolled” at an Eastern suburbs train station).

When I explained my fears to my son, he assured me that he would be fine.  In fact, he said if I really wanted him to be safe he could carry a knife, but of course you wouldn’t like that Mum.   Well you can imagine my response:  DAMN RIGHT I wouldn’t like that, didn’t he know cops could now search anyone for knives and if caught the consequences could be serious.  It was exactly the knife carrying thugs that were worrying me in the first place.  And where had he seen kids with knives?

Unfortunately, it would seem right in our own backyard, at the “nice” eastern suburbs skate park.  (And here I was assuming stupidly they were only found in the western suburbs).  Teen-Child was quick to assure me that none of his mates did carry them, but that there were some boys that did and he didn’t approve.  Thank God for that.

So the upshot – with great relief I learned that one by one Teen-Child’s friends were not actually going.  So he didn’t end up going either.  I had actually offered to drive him out there, but he didn’t seem too keen on the idea – not very COOL in his friends eyes no doubt.  I did subsequently speak to one father I know who said his son had travelled out there with a large group of boys (safety in numbers) once before, and all was fine.  To reduce my paranoia, he too had very similar thoughts to me about the potential issues involved with the trip.

As scary as it is, it would seem the knife culture of Melbourne pervades all corners of society.  The best I can hope is that my boys continue to understand their danger, and inappropriateness, and avoid them as much as possible.

 

Happy Birthday….loaded! March 5, 2010

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Today we celebrated the 14th birthday of our twin boys, Man-Child and Teen-Child.  My husband made the generous offer of getting up early this morning to cook them a bang up brekky on the BBQ, before they headed off to school.  Of course he indulged also.  After school they caught up with their mates and hung about, and then their grandfather shouted them out to dinner.  All in all a pretty nice day.

What is incredibly scary is to look back at photos of one year ago and see the baby-faced pre-pubescent boys that were my children, and now look at the little men in front of me.  I kid you not in one year I really believe that they have each grown at least 6 inches, and their feet have grown 3 sizes.  Whilst the shoes have been replaced in rapid succession, fortunately as they have get taller, they have been able to wear the same size clothes for some time, because whilst they go up they don’t normally go out – in fact one of ours got thinner over the last 12 months as he lost his “baby-fat”.  So not surprisingly at the end of the cricket season there were many gangly teenage boys with unfashionably short cricket pants – I for one was completely sympathetic to the mothers who refused to replace them so late in the season – they can make do until next season.

In these days of social media, it wasn’t surprising to see the constant stream of birthday messages for the boys on their Facebook pages.  I admit it was quite nice to recently receive so many public Happy Birthday messages from friends across the globe myself.  It’s definitely good for the ego and really does reflect the core “social” aspect of Facebook and other similar sites.

One of our boys (Man-Child) had mentioned in passing that his best mate had bought him a present for his birthday.  I thought at the time how sweet that he would actually buy a gift even though they were not having an “official” celebration with friends.  You can imagine my surprise today when Man-Child came home from school with $80 cash – a gift of $50 from a very generous friend, and another gift of $30 from another generous friend.  Quite frankly we were more than a little gob-smacked, and actually somewhat embarrassed.  As we discussed the fortunes of our son, he made it very clear that of course he would reciprocate with similar sums of money when the same friends had their birthdays.  So i naturally enquired if he thought we should be funding that generosity or him?  His response:  “If you won’t pay for it I’ll just take it out of my bank account!”  (said like a spoiled child indeed).  Our position is this – at a stretch, if our son feels so strongly about giving his best friend a present, then we might buy a $20-30 present for him (which is the normal budget for birthday parties).  But under no circumstances would we feel obligated to match the generosity of his parents, and nor in fact do I think they would expect it.

Unfortunately (and clearly he has a lot to learn) Man-Child was mortified at our response, and the fact we were such “tight-arses” (some terms don’t alter after all :)).  Without sounding moralistic, if our son’s friend had used his own money to save up and give his mate a present, I would have been delighted.  But when he’s throwing around mum and dad’s money, and our son expects the same, I wonder what values we are teaching them?

I’m not sure my son will understand what we’re talking about in the near term;  it seems it’s only when you are very young (too young to understand), or as you get older (and more mature) that you realise your friends don’t value you for material possessions.   Such is the journey of life (and wealth)!

 

The art of communication – Gen Z style February 25, 2010

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Depending on what you read, you could be mistaken for thinking that our early teenagers are in fact at the tail of Gen Y.  But now that they have declared Generation Z, Man-Child and his twin brother Teen-Child are actually the forerunners of this new generation.  Gen Z is basically the internet generation, born post 1995.  They have grown up in a digital age, so everything about it is second nature. 

Like all Gen Z-ers, my boys are the masters at multi-tasking – they can listen to their iPods, whilst watching TV, being on Facebook or downloading music from Limewire, whilst also APPARENTLY doing their homework.  Hence the reason the laptops have now been banned Monday to Thursday during the school term – so that homework has the focus it needs.  The only thing they don’t seem to be able to include in their multi-tasking is picking up their school uniforms off the bedroom floor, or putting their empty plates and cups in the dishwasher (or even within 10 feet of the kitchen)!!!

For Gen Z, the art of communication is quite different to our generation (that would be Gen X – for those of us who scraped in).  As a teenager I remember spending all my time on the phone, yes the landline, you know, home phone, cheap calls, you actually talk into it, and have an interactive two-way exchange, using the English language.  As an aside – just for your own amusement, ask a teenager what a landline is – you’d be surprised how many of them don’t know!  But then I guess they also don’t know what an LP is either do they!!!

Today, my boys talk via Skype or Facebook chat (MSN is a thing of the past for them) or via text.  They will only use the landline if their credit is out on their mobiles.  And god forbid they would ring someone else on their landline, no they persist in using the home phone to call their friends mobiles, at approx. $1 per minute.  I am constantly at pains to point out that landline calls are WAY cheaper but when you’re not paying the bills who cares right? 

Maybe I could make them pay the home phone bill including calls to mobiles?  But as I already make them pay for their own mobile phone credit (yes another total injustice by Mother of a Man-Child) I hope my point is made.

Anyway, back to communication – I do wonder with the language of texting that seems to pervade all their “conversations”, whether we are creating a generation that cannot actually hold down a real, face-to-face conversation with another human being?   Or is it merely that the medium has changed?  Chat via Facebook or MSN is still an interactive conversation – it’s just not spoken is it?  In fairness Skype is actually a next generation form of interactive communication, in so far as it includes video, but I actually like my friends not being able to watch me wander around the house doing chores whilst they talk to me, and I listen intently (really I do). 

I am trying desperately not to feel like an older generation that doesn’t understand a younger one.  After all I was on Facebook long before my kids, and MSN.  That’s what happens when you work in the digital market.  But I do expect that over time their use of technology will overtake me in leaps and bounds.  I just hope that their ability to speak in comprehensible English to their parents will remain for some time to come.

 

Party pooper? February 17, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 11:01 pm
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Some things across the generations don’t really change.  All teenagers LOVE a good party with their friends and all teenagers HATE their parents ringing up to ensure that everything is above-board before they allow them permission to attend.

Unfortunately for my boys (man-child and teen-child), I grew up with pretty strict (and to be fair very astute and sensible) parents, who always rang up in advance of said party to chat with the parents and ensure there was appropriate supervision, etc.  I seem to recall I didn’t like it, but over time I guess I learned to endure it, probably until I was 16 or 17 years old.   Typically parties were via printed invite only – we didn’t have the internet or mobiles back then, and if you heard about a party via word of mouth it was chatting with friends face to face or even god forbid using a landline (ask a teenager what a “landline” is – many have no idea).   

These days the invitations are still mostly printed (designed on the home computer) and either emailed out or hand delivered.  Although in some instances invitations are issued via Facebook – a little too uncontrolled for my liking.  That seems akin to sending a group text message to everyone on your phone.  You are asking for trouble.

Every time there is a party for the Man-Child (and trust me has one at least every fortnight, boys and girls, from varying schools, 70-100 people) we go through the usual ritual.  From me:  Whose party is it?  Can I see the invite?  Please provide the parents name and number so I can call them.  And the response from Man-Child:  OMG.  Do you have to?  Why can’t you just let me go?   No-one elses mum rings up.  etc etc. 

To this date I have not once said he can’t attend a party – but I still get the same response every time.  That said, I have said no to some “gatherings”.  For those who don’t understand the difference, as much as I can determine, a gathering is a small informal party (up to 20 or 30 people), whilst a party is more formal and has between 70-100 attendees.  Now I have no problem per se with “gatherings”, but on the occasions Man-Child has been told he can’t attend it’s because we are either moderating his social life to ensure he has some down time,  or because it’s a last-minute invitation that I always think is a little inappropriate.  I mean how is it he can receive an invite to a gathering 2-3 hours before it starts?  Surely the parents haven’t said on a whim that little Johnny or Suzy can have a gathering tonight – and they decide that at 4pm on a Saturday afternoon?   Do the kids just continue to churn out invites via Facebook until they have filled their quota? 

And you can imagine the response from Man-Child when he gets a “no” can’t you?    M-C:  What do you mean NO!  Everyone else is going.  This is so unfair.  You have to let me go.   OMG.   What is wrong with you?  Why can’t I go?   Well I’m going anyway.  (Insert SFX of stomping feet, swearing, banging doors etc). 

Now I am not alone in doing my own form of party “policing”.  I have spoken to many of my friends who all do the same thing, so I’m not sure how many of Man-Child’s friends actually don’t?  I am always silently chuffed when I do call the parents and they assure me that they too would call as I am.  And they happily share details and reassure me that everything is in order.  Only once to date have alarm bells rang for me – the parent clearly had NO idea how to manage a party, didn’t know the number of people her child was inviting, had no controlled RSVP list, and the party was supposed to finish one hour before the stated time on the invitation.  Considering the guidelines that all the schools issue these days I have to say I was gob-smacked at their ignorance or laissez-faire attitude (actually I think it was more the former). 

Anyway, there will continue to be parties, and gatherings, and I will continue to call the parents and ask my usual questions for the next couple of years.  Hopefully Man-Child will get used to the idea, although I am a little doubtful.  Incidentally, teen-child doesn’t seem to have the same issue – maybe it’s a peer thing, or maybe they’re just different kids? 

Party-on!

 

Argue this logic….. February 12, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 7:50 pm
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As is the custom in our house, I wash the kids bath towels on a regular basis.  Now I must admit here that I probably had an error of judgement when I purchased white towels recently for the kids – yes, I know, what IDIOT would buy white towels for kids?  Well me, because they go with their bathroom, with lovely stripes that match the accent colour, and I couldn’t find another dark colour that wasn’t the same as what we already had. 

Anyway, generally my kids have managed to keep the towels relatively white until the next clean, providing man-child was given his own hand towel for the copious quantities of super glue strength gel he puts in his hair on a daily basis – trust me when it’s that strong, it doesn’t come off with water, but rather sticks to all the taps and makes the towels lovely and gluey!

Just recently however, I was rendered speechless some five minutes after installing newly laundered white towels in their bathroom.  Upon entering I found man-child with a white towel on the floor, beneath his dirty wet feet, which he was wiping with gay abandon on the towel.  They weren’t wet clean feet, they were wet dirty feet – there’s a massive difference.  In scenario one, they are washed in water and then dried on the towel, in scenario two, they are simply wet so that one can wipe the dirt off on the towel – which is exactly what man-child was doing.

Once I had picked my jaw up off the bathroom floor, I enquired what he thought he was doing exactly, and did he realise he had made the towel filthy dirty in about 30 secs flat?  His response:  “Well what else do you expect, it’s a clean towel, I make it dirty, then it gets washed and comes back clean again” (or something to that effect).  To be honest I was in such a state of shock I still can’t actually recall the words very clearly. 

So there you have it, now I definitely know my place.  It’s to make white towels clean again.  I guess it goes along with cooking a hot meal every night, filling the fridge and pantry with food, miraculously returning once dirty clothes laundered and folded to wear again, etc.  Oh, and spending my Saturday nights as a taxi service – now that’s the highlight of my week!!!  (more on that in another post)

My response to the towel incident was to say that I refused to wash his towel for him ever again, and that he could keep it permanently in his room, where I didn’t have to look at it!  I don’t sound very rational do I!  Fact is the towels in our house do live on the floor anyway, in a wet heap most of the time on their bedroom floor, so I probably won’t have to enforce my threat after all.  Oh and if you’re wondering, the next kids towels I buy will be chocolate-brown. 🙂

 

The Locust Plague February 9, 2010

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 5:40 pm
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Any mother of teenage boys will be all too familiar with the species that enters one’s kitchen once they’ve launched into the massive growth phase that is adolescence.  I kid you not there are times I can literally see my boys physically growing.  To fuel this massive growth, they of course need food.  And more food.  And more food.  We seemed to go from feeding two adults and three kids to feeding four adults and one kid overnight.  Needless to say Aldi is now a regular haunt in addition to Safeway/Coles in a vain attempt to keep the grocery bill down.

I look on with jealousy at their ability to eat full hot breakfasts of bacon and eggs on a regular basis, followed by massive lunches and dinners. And when they eat anything, it’s not just one, it’s several of everything, inhaled with the strength of a Hoover.  So if there’s anything that’s a special ingredient for that dinner party you’re having, or you need to make something specific, you best label it before the plague of locusts gets to it.  Or better still hide it – very well.  Mine seem to have an innate food sensor that means they can find almost any special treat I ferret away.  I’m sure they inherited that ability from their father – sometimes referred to as the “rat” of the house, given what goes missing late in the night (he calls it supper).

Of course the worst insult to a mother is when you put a home cooked meal on the table, only to be told that they’re not really hungry.  Gee, I wonder if that could have anything to do with the cold pizza they had after school, followed by a bowl of cereal, banana smoothie and three pieces of toast.    Just the other night Man-Child declared he just couldn’t fit any more dinner in – conveniently he had left some veggies but somehow managed to swallow his portion of the family meat pie.  I insisted he eat the veg or no dessert (now there’s a familiar threat).  His response – a simple “NO”.   Thereafter followed the familiar Mexican stand-off with Mum declaring he could stay at the table until he had finished his meal, all night if need be, and Man-Child declaring he’d happily sit there until 1am and he bet I wouldn’t still be up to watch him. 

The only solution – I told him I’m not playing this game with you.  Eat the food and leave the table.  For some bizarre reason it worked – I’m a little surprised I got away with it – and to be honest I’m not sure how much longer I will wield that power.   In the meantime I try to watch what they’re eating and when, so if the pre-dinner munchies hit you can stop them mid-mouthful and ask them to remember a man size meal is to follow shortly.  Of course you have to endure the darkest of looks when you choose to come between a man and his food.

Bon Appetit!