As I timidly push the door to my teenager’s room, I’m met with a wave of warmth and a distinct aroma that can only be described as a teenager in deep slumber. The soft morning light seeps through the hastily drawn curtains, revealing the form of my daughter, cocooned in her blankets. The likelihood of her emerging before noon? Slim to none. At least it’s Saturday.
In contrast, the rest of the house is alive with activity. My partner is whipping up French toast, our pre-teen is practicing guitar, and the little one is constructing a foam block castle for her tiny Beanie Babies while anticipating her second breakfast. I’m multitasking, baking muffins for an upcoming soccer game, creating a grocery list, and trying to solve a crossword.
Staying busy seems to be the norm. It often feels like if you’re not engaged in something productive, you’re somehow failing. Downtime often comes with a hefty dose of guilt, especially for us parents. But my bleary-eyed teenager seems to have a different perspective.
After a long night’s sleep, she emerges just in time for pancakes, leftover brownies from yesterday, and a side of soy bacon. If I attempt a conversation, I’m met with one-word responses, and soon enough, she’s back in bed, snacking on microwave popcorn while glued to her laptop. Her room resembles a disaster zone (though she somehow knows where everything is), and when I ask her to tidy up, walk the dog, or fold her laundry, she reacts as if I’ve requested a monumental chore. Essentially, she embodies a distinct form of laziness when it comes to participating in family life.
It’s undeniably frustrating when I ask her to complete a task, and she either agrees, then doesn’t follow through, pretends she didn’t hear, or outright complains about not wanting to. Sure, there’s a mountain of chores I’d rather avoid, but I push through nonetheless.
However, my daughter has a valid reason for her sluggishness. While my life can be exhausting and stressful, I’m an adult, and she’s a weary, 21st-century teenager. If I had to handle her weekly schedule, I’d probably be lounging around in my pajamas, avoiding responsibilities beyond basic needs.
This child sits in class for seven hours daily, practices sports for three hours every afternoon (or longer if there’s a game), and tackles about two hours of homework each night. Somehow, she also carves out time for a social life, mostly online but also in real life. With family time being fleeting, it’s no wonder she’s completely drained by the weekend.
It’s not just demanding schedules that contribute to her lethargy; there’s science at play. Frances E. Jensen, MD, explains in her book that adolescents are biologically inclined to be “owls,” meaning their internal clocks push them to stay awake later than adults. This is due to melatonin, the hormone that regulates sleep, being released about two hours later in teenagers compared to adults.
Countless weeknights, I hear her bustling around while I’m ready to drift off, and like many teens, she has to wake up early for school, resulting in a constant sleep deficit. A study by the National Sleep Foundation shows that 76% of high schoolers in the U.S. don’t get the recommended nine hours or more of sleep on weeknights.
Sleep deprivation isn’t the only factor making teens appear sluggish. Scientists have discovered that brain development continues well into adolescence, with a significant growth spurt occurring around ages 11 to 12. This growth creates an excess of synapses, the connections between neurons. Teens actually require more sleep for their brains to properly develop, consolidate memories, and prune unused synapses. If they miss out on sleep during the week, their bodies make up for it on the weekends. What seems like laziness is often genuine exhaustion, combined with necessary brain and body growth.
While science doesn’t always excuse my daughter’s behavior, it does clarify why she can be irritable and resistant to weekend tasks. I come from a generation that prizes busyness, where lengthy to-do lists equate to importance. However, as I age, I recognize the futility and exhaustion of this mindset. Why can’t adults also benefit from extra rest and leisure? Michael Lewis, author of bestsellers like Moneyball, suggests that doing nothing might be the secret to success. How ironic that my daughter seems to understand this at just 14, while I continue to rush around like a hyperactive kitten. I’m definitely looking forward to a day of sleeping in myself!
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In summary, while I might find my daughter’s laziness frustrating, understanding the science behind it helps me embrace her need for downtime. Recognizing that both teens and adults benefit from rest could lead to a healthier family dynamic.