My daughter starts her first ever real job on Monday. I say real job because she's never had to check to see when she's scheduled, received a regular paycheck, or even completed a w-2. Before Monday, the only jobs she had ever had were babysitting. (I do think she's a great babysitter, though)
Who's more excited, me or her? Probably me. For one, since she's making her own money, she'll be asking me for less of mine (I hope). I also know how this is a huge step for her. It the first step to likely becoming part of a workforce that will last for the next 55-60 years.
But the biggest reason why I'm excited (other than her earning her own money) is that this is a learning experience for her. This is where she's stepping into an area where mom isn't, where she's becoming independent. Which is both sad and exciting for a mom.
When my little girl (who is actually 17) first applied for this job, it was an entirely different experience than it was for my first application. I had a mixed array. Everything from, "Yeah, I know your dad. How about you show up at 10 on Saturday?" To the ever humbling, "Can I have an application for employment, please?" And then proceeding to a nearby chair where the application was balanced on a knee to complete in the presence of the (hopefully) future employers.
My daughter completed her application online. And yes, I sat beside her and helped her. She doesn't have her social security number memorized, she wasn't sure what references were allowed, and she had actually never even completed an application before.
But I really wanted her to have a job. So I helped her. The application process at that point really looked no different than the old school paper applications. Same questions, just in online format.
We made it through the application process and I proceeded to the couch to watch TV when she quickly exclaimed, "Mom! I need you!"
Moms know the cries of their children. Some are sarcastic cries, some are emergency cries, and some are attention cries. This cry wasn't one of those exclamations in which I came running. I turned and looked at her with a quizzical look upon my face. I see her frantically waving me over and saying, "Hurry! Hurry!" So of course I return to her side to see what it is.
And there it is. Something of an aptitude test. It's timed. She's got ten minutes to take it. She's stressed. And I want my daughter to have a job, right? So do I help her? Heck yes, I do.
She began answering the first few questions as I was skimming the upcoming questions. We both began to nervously discuss answers. There were answers that demonstrated character and work ethic. She would say "I would choose this one, right?"
Then there were math questions. And I suddenly began having flashbacks from my trials at the GRE. In these math problems, multistep, problem solving techniques were necessary, mixed with (yet again) appropriate problem solving techniques.
I recognized a few questions as what we would call "career ready" questions. As an educator, I made a mental note that we need to provide work readiness skills in school to measure work ethic, attention to detail, and appropriate dress.
I noticed the time in the upper right corner. We were running out! Did I want my daughter to get a job? Yes! There was only one thing to do.
"Skip all the calculation questions!" I exclaimed. "Just answer the ones you know immediately!" Our hearts were pounding from the stress of the test as she was notified her time had expired.
Two weeks or more went by. I asked her if she had heard anything about her application more than once. "No, mom." (Eye roll)
And then, finally, it happened. She texted me at work Friday. "So, I got an interview. I went in and they hired me. I start Monday."
I'm so happy I of course tell my parents, my husband, and everyone in my office. Woohoo! She'll start a new job and recognize the value of hard work!
She begins at a local fast food chain on Monday. We have our own little sandwich maker in the family now.
