Adolescence is a fascinating and crazy time of life. It reminds me of the early space probes that blasted off from Cape Canaveral in Florida.

The space program

I remember my excitement in the early 1960s when Colonel John Glenn and the other astronauts embarked on their perilous journeys into space.

People who lived through those years will recall that a period of maximum danger occurred as each spacecraft was re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The flier inside was entirely dependent on the heat-shield at the bottom of the capsule to protect him from temperatures in excess of 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit.

If the craft descended at the wrong angle, the astronaut would be burned to cinders. At that precise moment of anxiety, negative ions would accumulate around the capsule and prevent all communication with the earth for about seven minutes.

The world waited breathlessly for news of the astronaut's safety. Then, a reassuring voice would break in to say, "This is Mission Control. We have made contact with Friendship Seven. Everything is A-Okay. Splashdown is imminent." Cheers and prayers went up in restaurants, banks, airports and millions of homes across the country.

The teenage voyage

The analogy to adolescence is not so difficult to recognize. After the training and preparation of childhood are over, a pubescent youngster marches out to the launching pad. His mother watches apprehensively as he climbs aboard a capsule called adolescence and waits for his rockets to fire. She wishes she could go with him, but there is room for just one person in the spacecraft. Without warning, the rocket engines begin to roar and the "umbilical cord" falls away. "Liftoff! We have liftoff!" screams the boy's mother.

Junior, who was a baby only yesterday, is on his way to the edge of the universe. A few weeks later, his mother goes through the scariest experience of her life: She loses all contact with the capsule. "Negative ions" have interfered with communication at a time when she most wants to be assured of her son's safety. Why won't he talk to her?

This period of silence does not last a few minutes as it did with Colonel Glenn and friends. It may continue for years. The same kid who used to talk a mile a minute and ask a million questions has now reduced his vocabulary to: "I dunno," "Maybe," "I forget," "Huh?," "Nope!," "Yeah," "Who, me?" and "He did it." Otherwise, only "static" comes through the receivers -- groans, grunts, growls and gripes. What an apprehensive time it is for those who wait on the ground.

Years later when Mission Control believes the spacecraft to have been lost, a few scratchy signals are picked up unexpectedly from a distant transmitter. Mom is jubilant as she hovers near the radio. Was that really his voice? It is deeper and more mature than she remembered. Her spacey son has made a deliberate effort to correspond with her! He was 14 years old when he blasted into space, and now he is nearly 20. Could it be that the negative environment has been swept away and communication is again possible?

Yes. For most families, that is precisely what happens. After years of quiet anxiety, parents learn to their great relief that everything is A-Okay on board the spacecraft. The "splashdown" occurring during the early twenties can then be a wonderful time of life for both generations.

—Dr. James Dobson

"You Can Survive the Stormy Teen Years" is adapted from Dr. Dobson's books The Strong-Willed Child and Parenting Isn't for Cowards. Copyright © 1978, 1987 respectively Dr. James Dobson. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.