You’re forewarned before you even consider entering the room. Your first clue? The red metallic sign on the door reads: BIOHAZARD – KEEP OUT. And that door is shut, most of the time.
Of course, when it’s your kid’s room, you have to make an appearance. Now and then.
There are the days when you’re certain the entirety of the household supply of socks has succumbed to the hidden stash effect: shoved under a twin bed, behind the computer, and tucked between objects you can’t quite name. There are evenings when you peer through the kitchen cabinets and the dishwasher, and you know half the cutlery and glasses are A.W.O.L., leading one to assume they have been swallowed into the black hole of the same (aforementioned) space.
Occasionally, there is a frantic teenage text relative to a forgotten book, project, or tennis racquet (take your pick), which requires an expedition into the Toxic Zone and, if you’re feeling kindly, one more trip to the High School, for good measure.
And naturally there is morning. He oversleeps, you knock gently, then not so gently, then hear the (surprisingly) deep voice that grumbles something in response. Perhaps he’s saying “I’m awake,” but as it isn’t sufficiently convincing and it’s late, you knock once more and open the door, say “GET UP NOW” in a tone consistent with the posted signage, as you exit quickly lest you be contaminated.
Cleaning house: all specialists apply here, please
Domestic Goddess? Not a title I’m likely to win.
Assembling eclectic and personal furnishings? Thumbs up. Arranging art? Thumbs up again. Filling a home with books, conversation, and laughter? Can do. 
Cleaning and organizing? Insisting on a tidy and uncluttered environment? A fabulous concept, and I dream of cleaning house – truly cleaning house (literally and metaphorically), but it remains an impossible pursuit worthy of Don Quixote.
I would engage all necessary professionals if I could: Clutter Consultants, Maid Services, Specialized Squirrels-in-the-Attic Removers.
The adolescent room
Like most parents, I do what I can managing the fine line between mess and unmitigated disaster. We all have our limits (and of course, they vary), typically stretched beyond reason when we’re overtired and overworked. And those limits are constantly assaulted when you dwell in the land of single parenting.
My teenager’s room. Must my plaintive cry be heard up and down my leafy little street?
I admit – my own heaps and piles are no great model, but I don’t store dirty dishes under my bed, my socks go straight into the washer, and a highly organized mind balances out some of the disorganization of my physical environment. As for my son’s room, the cracked walls have been driving me crazy. For two years. Yes, the very same ones he agreed to paint more times than I can count.
Recipe for success (or at least, progress)
I resorted to an old trick. (It’s been working well lately.) Food. Food as motivator, and of course – fuel. I also used the element of surprise: I dangled a Cuban sandwich in front of him, for the low low price of $2.99, freshly made, courtesy of my local supermarket.
The kid loves their Cuban sandwiches – what can I say? They’re delicious, and apparently, a critical cleaning aid at this time in his young life.
Along with the sandwich, I offered up a trip to Home Depot for a paint roller, a second can of paint, a box of Nutter Butters, and two hours later, three walls were in process. Astonishing.
For the next two nights, he painted, slept on the couch (the fumes), and by Monday morning – three walls glistening – he was talking again about the mural he’s had in mind to create for several years. The fact that he only painted three walls instead of four? No matter. You can hardly see the fourth wall; it’s behind a set of heavy bookcases. He did as I asked – covered the cracks, and painted.
This morning I saw that he had swept and rearranged the furniture. There’s still a trail of dirty socks on the floor (what’s up with that?), but I figure it’s a win. We’re in the “acceptable” range. And every home needs a muralist, right? I imagine I’ll just have to keep him in Cuban sandwiches, to make sure it gets done, and doesn’t require another two years.
That boy is easy! Wish the promise of a cuban sandwich held that much weight around here.
It is a trip to pac sun for board shorts in our house…that is the great motivator. Yesterday the floors were cleaned, the lawn mowed and he got new board shorts.
I said I would never pay my child for good grades or good behavior. I said those things before I got to know my son and my own level of need. When in need one will bend the rules.
Maybe I should have started small, say with the promise of a cuban sandwish?
@Cathy – I must have boys that follow the old adage of “the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” All I know is – it works!
@April – iTune! Excellent!
@CT – ah yes, I believe a similar tactic may work on le mari – or whatever else may stir his heart.
@Eva – the Nutter Butters are driving me crazy… I like them too much, too, and there’s only so much a good French scarf can hide.
@Jen – forget about saving for 3 college educations. First you have to get through adolescence. Boy-food capacity is staggering. (Still trying to figure out where they put it.)
All I know is I can now enter the “Zone” and not fear for my life. I’m guessing we all have our versions of “sweet talk” – words or actions – that are effective?
I’ve been using iTunes purchases to bribe/motivate my girls.
Hmm, je dois utiliser cette stratégie — mon mari a beaucoup de choses à faire chez nous (par exemple, nettoyer la chambre d’amis pour que sa tante, qui arrivera vendredi, puisse y dormir)! Nous sommes, quand même, en train de peindre les murs.
The box of Nutter Butters would have done it for me. I’m too easy.
I love this look at your life with your son. It’s like I can see a glimpse of my future somehow. (And, my present, too. Socks. Food. Piles and piles and piles.) I think if I let him, my son would gladly paint his walls. Not sure how to maintain the drive he has until he gets old enough to do it unassisted. Vienna Fingers, maybe. (AKA “Mommy cookies” because I consumed carton after carton while I was pregnant, and pregnant, and pregnant).
🙂 🙂 🙂
Loved this post, made me laugh. I think there is a ‘sock black hole’ in our house as well–drives me nuts where I find them all. Right now, half of the socks I found this week alone belong to various friends of my sons (11, 13)! Their moms and I have decided to have a sock party: bring all of the socks and pair them up with their owners!
If someone gave me a Cuban sandwich, I’d clean my house! Haha
When I was a teenager (MANY MANY MOONS AGO) my best friend’s parents gave us Carte Blanche to do her room any way we saw fit. We took pencils to the white bare walls and drew big blobs all over the wall and painted them all different colors. We actually took baby food jars and mixed our own colors and I think we had colors people have never heard of before! We painted three walls in the multi colored blobs and one wall (and the window trim and doors) enamel black. The we painted the ceiling blue (very vibrant blue) with a HUGE yellow sun in the middle. And they LET us do that! Took us almost a year to finish it. I heard that years later when they went to sell the house it took like ten coats of paint to cover it. I still can’t believe they let us do that!
My toddler’s fascination with all thing truck is a great source of bribery around here. When it’s time to clean up the boys’ room, I tell him that we are bulldozers and dump trucks and the shelves and boxes are the destination for our loads. Works every time!
I bet you I’d clean more too if someone drifted brownies in front of my nose, stole the little kids away, and put a paint roller in my hand. Hmm. Sounds lovely, actually.
But you know what sounds even better? Send that kid of yours up here. I have an embarrassing amount of walls that need painting. And I’ll deliver up a smorgasbord for him he’ll never forget.
You know Sarah, he’d probably go! (Feed him, toss him some art supplies, provide a piano if possible – he’s happy.) But if you give him a roller, he may want to paint a mural after…
And Kristen – enjoy those dump trucks! (Easy bribery. And trucks are cool.)
I sometimes think that we want our outside environment to either reflect the way we want to feel inside… or the way we do feel inside. With teens it seems to trend toward the latter—inner chaos calling for outter.
You’re kids are lucky to have you. Viva Cuba.
Thanks, Bruce. 🙂 And viva Cuban sandwiches!
My toddler son ate twice his weight at breakfast this morning (or so it seemed to me), and I had a moment’s (slightly horrifying) insight about his appetite during the teenage years. Maybe I should start making and freezing Cuban sandwiches now?? (Can’t stockpile the Nutter Butters. This mom has no will power where peanut butter + cookie is concerned.)
Don’t know if the Cubans will keep. (Chuckling.) And those Nutter Butters are addictive. Yes, I understand the dilemma. All too well.
Congrats on finding a workable solution! As a mom of daughters, I found they could hold their own with any son in the messy room department! But I could bribe them with a trip to the store for new shoes. I did use the room redecorating/repainting idea once with some temporarily good results. Miraculously, when Army Wife went to college, she did a 180 degree turnaround. College Girl isn’t there yet, but she does clean her apartment when we come to visit…most of the time. 🙂
I like how the teen puts up the Biohazard sign thinking it’s funny – but it’s TRUE! We cleaned everything in my son’s room and still there’s a stench. (Is it him?) And you’re so much savvier than me, BLW. I am totally going to buy a box of candy bars and just have him leaping in the air to do my bidding like an overgrown puppy!