The only thing my Jordan wanted this past Christmas was a job. What he got were some books, CDs, underwear and clothing. Jobs last Christmas were harder to come by than a Cabbage Patch Doll during the 1980s. I’m dating my self, I know, but the Cabbage Patch craze was worse than ridiculous lines for iPads or the Wii rush. It was… crazy. I think there were actually stories about people getting trampled.

Now I have no qualms with teenagers working. And while I know the law now says otherwise, I don’t think 14 is too young to start earning your keep. In fact, I think kids need to get a job as soon as they’re able to polish off a $4 box of cereal and a half gallon of milk in one sitting.

That’s right, make them work.

I started working when I was about 12, pulling a red wagon piled high with newspapers through the streets and slinging them on lawns and front steps in Long Island where I grew up. Some winter nights my fingers got so cold I thought they’d crack and break off. But as my mama would say, “That which does not kill you, will only serve to make you stronger.” I survived. But I still hate the cold.

My oldest, Trey, started work the very week he turned 14, sacking groceries and stocking shelves at Hy-Vee. He later switched to Price Chopper and worked through high school.

Now, even if he’s only home a few days from college he clocks in to cashier at the store. They love him there and they’re always telling me when I stop in for the weekly groceries what a “good worker” he is. At school he’s a resident assistant in the dorm and he works as an editor for the campus newspaper.

But grocery stores just aren’t hiring 14-year-old kids these days. Believe me, I asked. No one hires kids that young anymore. Heck, with unemployment the way it is, teens have to compete with laid-off adults just to flip hamburgers at a fast-food chain.

So, as it turned out it seemed Jordan was just out of luck on the job front. Bummer, because I think hard work builds character; not that Jordan is lacking on that front. I just want my kids to understand you gotta work for what you want. I don’t want my boys growing up spoiled brats and thinking they're entitled, you know?

So since it looked like he wasn’t getting a part-time job, I decided Jordan would be working more around the house, and cracking the books hard to keep those grades up. That’s job one. In fact, the home work always comes first. Then there’s his music practice too. He plays the viola. And he’s not half bad at it.

I’m always stressing the time management thing, big time. Don’t come home from school taking naps and playing video games when there is work to be done. Oh no, that is not happening. There’s always some picking up to be done in that room of his. And what about those dishes left in the sink after breakfast, those can be washed. The garage needs sweeping. No chores, no allowance; that’s my mantra.

This weekend we found another little chore. I bought a lawn mower. We used to have one, but some how, when the boys were mowing one summer it mysteriously fell apart, hmmm. I think they thought if we didn’t have a mower then I’d have to pay someone to cut the grass. And that worked for an entire summer. But then I figured out that by the time I spent $30 every other week to have someone cut the grass I could have bought a mower. This past weekend Jordan and I cranked up that new 21 inch, self propelling Toro and cut the grass. Turns out, he likes mowing.

And something else happened. A friend needed a baby sitter, and asked if Jordan was up to the task.

She’s got two children, a nine year old and a three year old who hasn’t quite gotten the potty training down yet.

Jordan jumped at the chance to make a few extra bucks. I was a bit skeptical about the diaper changing part. So we practiced with a paper towel and a stuffed animal. “Mom I got this,” he assured me.

So Friday night about 6 p.m. Jordan headed off to his first job; baby sitting. He took one of his kid-friendly movies, his drawing pad and his viola. Four hours later, he came home with $55 bucks in his wallet (no taxes) and a smile on his face. No sweat. They ate pizza, watched a movie and listen to him play his viola (without complaints). He changed one diaper, “easier than cleaning out my iguana’s cage,” he said.

The hardest part, Jordan said, was figuring out how to get the three-year-old to go to sleep. He finally just put him in bed and sang him to sleep. Turns out, Jordan likes baby sitting too.

On Sunday Jordan decided he’d hire him self out to neighbors who need a strapping young man to mow their lawn. And if anyone is looking for a singing baby sitter, Jordan’ says that for ten bucks an hour, he’s free on weekends; it beats having to clean his room, empty the trash, wash the dishes and mow the lawn for a measly $10-a-week allowance from his cheap, whip-cracking, tiger mom.

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