There we were on the mini-golf course in Skowhegan, Maine, where we've been taking our kids for years for a fun day while on vacation.
I smiled at the comforting sight of the kitschy little turning windmill that you hit the balls through, and the fake tombstones on the hole that looks like a tiny cemetery. And I was really looking forward to a scoop of pumpkin ice cream after the game from the nearby stand selling Gifford's, a creamy local brand with a zillion interesting flavors.
Suddenly I realized that my husband and our son were having a huge fight.
"You're going to play mini-golf with us whether you like it or not!" growled Dad, to which our 13-year-old wailed something about hating his family more than anything in the world.
Welcome to the family vacation starring an angst-ridden, friend-deprived teen-ager, who experiences humiliation every second of every day simply because his parents exist. Apparently that feeling intensifies on vacation, and in our case, had reached a climactic intensity on the mini-golf course.
The specific issue here, other than the generally embarrassing context of an adolescent having to appear in public with his parents and little brother, was that the kid realized his cell phone could get service at the mini-golf course. He wanted to call his friends instead of playing with his family. At the summer house on a pond where we were staying, about 25 miles away, there was no service.
But on the golf course in town, not only was there a strong signal, but it was even free–no roaming charges! From his point of view, why shouldn't he use this opportunity to call all the 13-year-olds he hadn't spoken to in two weeks and say profound and cool teen-age things–like, "So, whassup?"
I had never realized before how much my son has in common with African wildebeests, but it suddenly hit me that, deprived of his herd, this young mammal was becoming disoriented. He needed–with an almost physical urgency–to be with his peer group. Forced to spend 24 hours a day with his parents and little brother, he was starting to go nuts. His separation from friends while on vacation not only included lack of phone contact, but because there was no Internet service at our summer house, instant-messaging and MySpace were out of the question, too.
The final horror in his teen-age vacation nightmare was that I had accidentally erased all the songs off his iPod the night before we left home (I swear, I didn't mean to do it!) so he was also deprived of his music. (In fairness, he was very good-natured about that incident, I guess because it confirmed his smug view of me as a complete technological ninny.)
Back on the mini-golf course, I tried to make peace between father and son.
"Please," I pleaded, "please stop fighting! Please don't raise your voices! It's only mini-golf!"
All around us, happy families putted away–in between taking sneak peeks at our dysfunctional unit in full pitched battle before we even played the first hole.
"What's the problem?" I whispered. "Can't we just work something out here?"
"I'm really homesick!" whined my son. "I miss my friends! I just want to talk to some of them, and I finally got a cell signal here! Why do I have to play mini-golf?"
My husband turned to me. "Why can't he just be a part of this family? We came here to play mini-golf and he's ruining a perfectly nice day!"
Eventually I brokered a compromise worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize. Son would play mini-golf, but he would play one hole behind the rest of us–while talking to his friends back home on his cell phone. I hovered between him and the others, making sure to write down everyone's score and enforce the truce.
The cell phone was cradled between his shoulder and his ear as he swung the club on the second hole, hitting a hole in one.
A giant grin spread across his face. He held the phone away from his face. "Mom, did you see that?" he said excitedly. I nodded. My little boy was back again.
Then he shoved the phone back between his shoulder and his ear. "Yeah," he said to his friend on the other end of the line, "I'm up in Maine, playing mini-golf. And it's mad fun."
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This week's advice:
Keeping teen-agers happy on vacation can be hard. If you can, let them bring a friend for a few days or send them off to camp or on a youth group adventure. On a family trip, sign them up for a group lesson–skiing, tennis, golf or whatever–or other one-day program with kids their age, or consider going to a resort or on a cruise that has programs for teen-agers. If none of that is possible or practical, find ways that they can stay in touch with friends at home. If there's no Internet service where you're staying, they might be able to stay in touch on line by using the computer at a local library once every few days. Or suggest that they save up to buy a phone card or prepaid cell phone so they can call friends when they're away. Wi-fi hotspots are ubiquitous these days, from hotels to parks to cafes, so you can also consider bringing a laptop from home if you have one.
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