As a mother, I am still at the stage where I believe what I say and do can make a real difference. So one day, I tell my son we are going to work on his resume. Again, there’s that “we.”  Then I take my son to make copies of his resume.  As I tell him about my first “real” job, as a 14-year old office lackey at my eye doctor’s office, it hits me that my son can’t even get a file-and-make-copies-job as he puts his document in the Xerox machine and out comes a blank piece of paper.

It’s not Music Television that’s failing my son, it’s ME.

My enabling tendencies did not disappear the moment my son’s father and I divorced; it appears that they simply transferred to my son, and it is I who needs an intervention, not my son.

I am unable to help myself from “helping.” The following week, I explain to my son that he needs to revisit the places to which he’s applied; I was told by one grocery store bagger that my son needs to update his online application every month and to “bug” the manager.  When I relay this to my son, he clearly thinks this is some kind of sick joke.

“Why would bugging the manager make him give me a job? I’d just be annoying him.”

Now, many of you can likely hear your own parents’ job-search advice replaying in your mind: “You need to show persistence and initiative; let the employer know you really want the job.”

 I remember the summer I graduated from college. I had graduated Magna cum Laude, interviewed with several large companies, had several call-backs, but I still did not have a job.  I came “home” to continue my search.

After four years of living on my own, coming back to my parents’ house was not exactly what I had in mind.  Worst of all, after a full day of interviews, my dad would greet me at the door with unending questions and “helpful advice.” Still, it is my father who instilled in me my deep work ethic, attention to detail, and respect for employers.

I just wish I knew how he did it.

I do know that I reacted to him much the same way my son does to me when asked, “Where did you look for a job today? What did you say? What did they say? Did you look him in the eye? Did you smile?” (The Jewish inquisition is an ancient parenting strategy in our culture. It’s why so few of us ever live at home past the age of 18.)

Although I have a vested interest in my son getting a job and getting off the X-box, my friends tell me I need to let him make it on his own. And my son would actually agree with this.  In fact, one of our funniest moments is him hissing at me as he got out of the car to apply for a job at a restaurant he had never been to. “Let me DO IT on my own, Mom! If I fail, then I’ll listen to you.  I’ve got it under control!”

“You’re right,” I said from the driver’s seat. “Go ahead; the restaurant is in the corner over there.”

My son paused mid-door-slam. “What? Come with me! I don’t know what to do!”

You can’t make this stuff up.

I got out of the car and walked through the parking lot with him, giving the barest of instructions. “Ask if they have any job openings. Ask to fill out an application. Write legibly.” Then I waved him off.  

My son did not get the restaurant job. Or the grocery store job. Or any of the other jobs he applied for. However, he has worked as a volunteer for several weeks at our local nature park, and he’s doing data entry at our community center. He also canvassed the neighborhood with a babysitting flyer and not only got his first gig, he got a call back from the same family.

Obviously, he does know what he’s doing.   And what he doesn’t know, he’ll learn.

With any luck at all, so will I.

Ginger Emas is the mother of a 14-year-old son and the author of “Back On Top: Fearless Dating After Divorce.” She is a regular ShareWIK.com columnist.

As a mother, I am still at the stage where I believe what I say and do can make a real difference. So one day, I tell my son we are going to work on his resume. Again, there’s that “we.”  Then I take my son to make copies of his resume.  As I tell him about my first “real” job, as a 14-year old office lackey at my eye doctor’s office, it hits me that my son can’t even get a file-and-make-copies-job as he puts his document in the Xerox machine and out comes a blank piece of paper.

It’s not Music Television that’s failing my son, it’s ME.

My enabling tendencies did not disappear the moment my son’s father and I divorced; it appears that they simply transferred to my son, and it is I who needs an intervention, not my son.

I am unable to help myself from “helping.” The following week, I explain to my son that he needs to revisit the places to which he’s applied; I was told by one grocery store bagger that my son needs to update his online application every month and to “bug” the manager.  When I relay this to my son, he clearly thinks this is some kind of sick joke.

“Why would bugging the manager make him give me a job? I’d just be annoying him.”

Now, many of you can likely hear your own parents’ job-search advice replaying in your mind: “You need to show persistence and initiative; let the employer know you really want the job.”

 I remember the summer I graduated from college. I had graduated Magna cum Laude, interviewed with several large companies, had several call-backs, but I still did not have a job.  I came “home” to continue my search.

After four years of living on my own, coming back to my parents’ house was not exactly what I had in mind.  Worst of all, after a full day of interviews, my dad would greet me at the door with unending questions and “helpful advice.” Still, it is my father who instilled in me my deep work ethic, attention to detail, and respect for employers.

I just wish I knew how he did it.

I do know that I reacted to him much the same way my son does to me when asked, “Where did you look for a job today? What did you say? What did they say? Did you look him in the eye? Did you smile?” (The Jewish inquisition is an ancient parenting strategy in our culture. It’s why so few of us ever live at home past the age of 18.)

Although I have a vested interest in my son getting a job and getting off the X-box, my friends tell me I need to let him make it on his own. And my son would actually agree with this.  In fact, one of our funniest moments is him hissing at me as he got out of the car to apply for a job at a restaurant he had never been to. “Let me DO IT on my own, Mom! If I fail, then I’ll listen to you.  I’ve got it under control!”

“You’re right,” I said from the driver’s seat. “Go ahead; the restaurant is in the corner over there.”

My son paused mid-door-slam. “What? Come with me! I don’t know what to do!”

You can’t make this stuff up.

I got out of the car and walked through the parking lot with him, giving the barest of instructions. “Ask if they have any job openings. Ask to fill out an application. Write legibly.” Then I waved him off.  

My son did not get the restaurant job. Or the grocery store job. Or any of the other jobs he applied for. However, he has worked as a volunteer for several weeks at our local nature park, and he’s doing data entry at our community center. He also canvassed the neighborhood with a babysitting flyer and not only got his first gig, he got a call back from the same family.

Obviously, he does know what he’s doing.   And what he doesn’t know, he’ll learn.

With any luck at all, so will I.

Ginger Emas is the mother of a 14-year-old son and the author of “Back On Top: Fearless Dating After Divorce.” She is a regular ShareWIK.com columnist.