I am the Teen Clean Queen!

I am a stinkin', bloggified, parental genius! 

This is good.  Really good. 

Disclaimer:  Uh. . . if you already do this or your mom did it when you were a kid or your sister's, neighbor's dog's friend does it, or you read it in a mag-a-zayeeene uh-huh, I don't want to know.   I would much prefer to embrace the delusion that I have broken uncharted parenting territory and made some great, amazing discovery all by my wee, little, suckered self.

It's never happened before, it may never happen again and it's probably not really happening now, but humor me, okay?

The Problem:

I do send the kids to clean up their areas, but they don't.  They'll say they did, but it's all a bunch of smoke-n-mirrors designed to dupe me into letting them go on with their overindulged little lives as they sit smack dab in the midst of the chaotic mess they've made of my home's upstairs.  It's enough to depress a mother for life, I tell ya.

Now, they each have their own bedroom and bathroom for which they are responsible.  Between the bedrooms is a common area (game room/electronic show room) that they must cooperatively maintain.   I'm talking superficial stuff; picking up, dusting, vacuuming, putting the sundry discs back into the cases, nullify all evidence of food fights, etc. . . . I do the heavy lifting up there; ceiling fans, baseboards, upholstery, window treatments, bury dead bodies,  etc.  Got that much?   Okay.

What I've always done in the past is tell them to go clean up. Then they're supposed to call me to come check what they've done.  Then I have to tell them what to do to make it right because they never do it right the first time.  Lather, rinse, repeat.  This process can go on for a long time with them never quite getting things right.  Blah.  I hate it.  Sometimes I just omit the repeat 'cause it wears me slick, all that stomping up and down the stairs, getting more and more irritated that my offspring cannot follow directions.

The Solution: 

Enter the brilliance of my lone moment of parental clarity.  (Yes, I am deleriously gloating in the moment.  It fills my heart with joy to do so, so don't blow it for me, okay?)

Rather than inspecting the areas myself this past weekend, I had the kids inspect each others' areas.  Oh, yeah.  I know.  Pure genius with a capital Gee.  I may have to write a book or something.  Move over Dr. Spock. 

The stipulation:

When each child declared their sibling's spaces as good, I then came up for the final inspection. (Tip:  I'm thinking this is a good time to put on a long black cape, a shiny black headpiece with a car grille faceplate, and make a lot of noise when I breathe, like cooooooh-puh, cooooooh-puh.  I could carry carry a light saber and use it to check  under the beds.  I think I'll try that next time while saying stuff about the power of the dark side, right?)

So, back to reality. . . If an area did not meet my standards, the inspector AND the inhabitant of said area would both be denied privs for the rest of that day.  (Privs.  As in all the things they love and hold dear to their precious little pubescent hearts and don't want to be denied for a single moment, much less a whole day.)

The Results:

Oh, joyous momenteousness of it all, it stinkin' worked, man!  Right on! 

Everything passed on first inspection and I didn't have to make twelvety dozen trips up and down the stairs to check-n-correct, growing more and more convinced my children were less trainable than IQ-less chimps.  (In the housekeeping department, that is.  I've already established that mentally challenged chimps have better hygiene practices than my boy (almost 12y/o) and better attitudes than my girl (16y/o).  Those of you with little ones will experience the bursting of your hyper-inflated bubbles once the post-elementary school realities kick you in the head. 

So! The upstairs now looks like Better Homes and Gardens meets Best Buy and all is well with the world!

For now.   I'm sure they'll put their hardened, hormonally labile heads together and devise a way to thwart my plan.  In the meantime . . .

The Glory:

I am the Queen of Everything!  Bow to me.

 That's what's working for me! 

Got tips on getting teens to clean their rooms?  Approach the throne.

Then go visit Shannon for more WFMW tips and things.

Stumble It!

Comments

[Margaret]

Well, If it HAS been written about in a magazine or something, I haven't read it, so as far as I'm concerned you ARE the Diva of Managing Teens.

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[Susanne]

Well up until the solution I could have written this post! You are a genius, woman!

[Reese W.]

Hi! This is Reese, I've been watching your blog and, as a fellow mom (of two wonderful little children), I can relate to EVERYTHING you write here! You are the Teen Clean Queen!

[pam at beyondjustmom]

I love it--I've been the inspector before, but it's a great idea to have them inspect one another. Yes, you win the tiara today.

[Christy]

I bow to you. I found you on Works for Me Wednesday and the word "Teen" in the link description brought us together. I absolutely cannot wait to try this. Saturday, here we come!

[Jude]

What a smart idea if you have more than 1. I only had 1 and he was the messiest kid I ever met and nothing worked with him didn't matter what privilege I threatened to take away except food and that wouldn't have been very nice of me. I always enjoy your blog enjoy your brilliance.

[Carol]

Margaret: Diva. I'll take it.

Susanne: Genius. I'll take it.

Reese: Welcome! I'll take it. Glad you stopped by.

Pam: Tiara. I'll take it.

Christy: The bow. I'll take it. Good luck this weekend!

Jude. Brilliance. I'll take it. (Taking away food? Hmmm....I may have to think on that one. I have been known to say, "I want it done by the next time you want to eat." That works sometimes, too.)

Welcome to court, everyone. Enjoy your stay because it's sure to be brief. I'll be back to my usual knave-slavery tomorrow. Right now, I'm busy basking.

[Wanda]

Hail to YOU dear Queen!

Sounds like a fabulously wicked sweet plan!

I'm on this one.

I'm sick of these house hogs I'm living with being so pathetic at cleaning up (what little they do).
I'm over feeling resentful all the time.

I'm getting a cape and a light saber this week!
Cooooooh-puh!

[MooBeeMa]

THAT is so smart! I'm gonna try it at my house!

[DG Jan]

Only one word, Carol...GENIUS!!!!
(You may continue basking...)

[Carol]

I doth fear mine reign hath ended. That boy's room is, as of this morning, a wreck.

It's a good thing there's a weekend every weekend.

[Beamer]

I am so glad to see your ego is not suffering. I do bow to you.

Beamer

[owlhaven]

Okay, so I have figured out the FIRST half of this-- having kids inspect each other's work. But I hadn't thought to penalize both...you're brilliant!

Mary