• My teenage daughter needed logistical and emotional support to thrive in her first job.
• We tried to be purposeful about helping her save some of her earnings.
• She's also learning the importance of work-life balance.

When my daughter got her first real job at 14, I was excited for her.

I had hoped getting a job at a young age would improve her self-esteem, time management, and money management skills.

While she did earn all those skills, she required a gentle push from me. Little did I know that my teen's first job would be a learning experience for me, too.

Here's what I discovered in supporting her.

She needed help with startup costs and rides

The adage, "You must spend money to make money," held true for my teenager. Before she saw her first paycheck as a server for a local catering company, our daughter needed to purchase work attire, including dress pants, a button-down shirt, and shoes. My husband and I decided to fund these startup costs, considering them an investment in her burgeoning job skills.

We also invested time in shuttling her to and from events — and soon found ourselves spending more hours in the car than we'd expected. Though most events were nearby, some were located almost an hour away. We realized our family schedule wouldn't always mesh with our teen's enthusiasm for working, which meant she had to turn down some opportunities.

Still, we tried to make the stars align whenever possible, taking turns as her Uber drivers and coordinating carpools because we saw how much our daughter enjoyed her job. She loved working a party with a tray of fancy appetizers in hand, seeing beautiful brides at weddings, and chatting with coworkers in the lull between serving and clearing dishes.

But there were stressful times, too. After one wedding during which drinks were spilled at the head table and guests were served the wrong entrées, our teen came home frazzled and upset.

"Some of those mistakes were my fault," she told us. The pride we usually saw in her face after she'd worked an event was gone, replaced by sadness and worry.

We shared some of our own embarrassing work mishaps to normalize that no one — including adults — performs their job perfectly all the time. We reminded her that mistakes happen, but what matters is how she learns from them.

We helped her establish a plan to save some of her earnings

Our daughter was excited to earn her own money and even more excited to spend it. Though we had talked with her about the importance of saving, we quickly discovered that Target, DoorDash, and Starbucks were kryptonite for our teen girl's wallet. Her first hard-earned paycheck disappeared in a flash.

Although we sometimes cringed at our daughter's impulse buys, we also recognized how hard she had worked to afford them. We wanted her to enjoy her newfound purchasing power, but without spending every last dime she'd earned.

After discussing options with our daughter, we made a deal: She got to keep most of her earnings, but a small percentage of each paycheck would be funneled into a savings account. The arrangement gave her enough money for everyday purchases using her debit card while ensuring she could build up savings over time.

She had to learn the importance of work-life balance

My teenagers will confirm that I nag them about getting enough sleep, but my well-meaning words don't always resonate. When my daughter wanted to work a last-minute shift on the same weekend she had a soccer tournament, I considered saying no but ultimately let her sign up.

After a whirlwind of soccer games, outfit changes, and lengthy car commutes, my daughter was clearly exhausted.

Now, she's more intentional about prioritizing her activities — whether she's studying for an exam, working at her new restaurant job, playing soccer, or spending time with friends — because she realized trying to do it all wasn't sustainable. Allowing her the freedom to manage her work, school, and extracurricular hours taught her more about work-life balance than my most passionate lectures ever could.

Whatever career our daughter pursues, I know that someday, she'll no longer need close support from her parents to thrive in her job. When that day comes, we'll continue cheering her on from a distance.

• My teenage son got his driver's license.
• I refuse to track him because I know I'll just get even more anxious.
• I trust my son and want to give him the freedom he deserves.

My son just got his driver's license and loves his newfound freedom. Even though he's going to the same places he always has — school, lunch, and errands — he's much happier driving himself than having me do it.

His older brother was the same. It didn't matter to either of my boys where they were going. It mattered that they could get there on their own — without their parents.

When my oldest got his driver's license, I learned that some of his friends' parents installed apps so they could track their kids, but I refused to follow suit.

I understand why people track their kids

Most people track their children for one of two reasons: to ensure their safety or to ensure they're going where they said they were.

I understand both of those ideas. I'm a very anxious parent, and it doesn't take long for me to imagine all kinds of awful situations my children could find themselves in.

It is, frankly, terrifying for me to let them go anywhere at all. Letting them pilot a 4,000-pound hunk of metal down a busy freeway? If I think about it too long, I'll lock everyone inside the house with me forever.

But I'm certain a tracking app won't solve my problem.

Tracking has only made my anxiety worse

This generation of kids and teens has grown up in a much more monitored world than I did. My parents got two or three report cards a year from me, while I can check my kids' grades and get updates on their school behavior daily — sometimes hourly. I did that for a while. But I noticed that tracking them was affecting us all — not in a good way.

When I signed on to the apps and websites that monitored them, I began constantly checking for updates. A nice note from a teacher at 10 a.m. put me in a great mood. A negative update half an hour later sent me plummeting. I checked grades daily, interrogating kids about missing assignments or low scores.

Eventually, I had to back off, delete the apps from my phone, and work out a plan to check these sites less often with my kids. We were all much happier and less stressed after that. Surprisingly, behaviors and grades improved when the kids knew they weren't going to be cross-examined about every little thing.

I can see myself getting equally attached to a tracking app. I'd watch my phone when my teen is in the car. I won't relax until they've gotten to their destination. If they get stuck in traffic, I'll assume they're stopped because they've crashed. If they want to grab food while out, I'll wonder why they've deviated from our agreed-upon route. I will worry, and I will assume the worst-case scenario every time.

Weirdly, it's less stressful to send them off and tell them to call when they get there than to be able to monitor their every move in the car.

Giving kids some freedom is part of growing up

As for checking on where they're going, so far, my kids haven't given me any reason to think they're lying about things. It doesn't seem fair to start out by distrusting them.

Like building trust, teaching independence is something we start when our kids are small. We might let them walk ahead of us on the way to school, building up to letting them walk with friends and eventually alone. We start homework by sitting down with them to help and hopefully transitioning to them managing it independently.

I don't think there's a feeling quite like that freedom teens feel when they get their license. It's good for them. It's the next step in learning to be an adult. They don't need me hovering over their shoulder, watching their every move.

I'm not saying I have no idea where my children are when they're out driving. We discuss their plans. If my son is stopping for food after a school event, he texts to let me know. I call if he's driving across town to ensure he arrives safely. But that extra step feels like we're communicating and respecting each other, rather than me stealthily watching him on my phone.

It's not easy for me to watch these teens, who seemed like tiny babies just yesterday, get behind the wheel of a car. But it's one more way they're growing up; I'm trying to grow up and let go as well.