Archive for the ‘Behavior’ Category

You’ll notice that on here, I rarely use my kids real names, though I do use actual pictures now and again. At most an initial, a nickname, something that makes it a little more difficult to trace. I do this out of respect for my teenagers – and their privacy.

But that’s a tenuous thing – teenage privacy. Lindsay, over at Suburban Turmoil at the Nashville Scene broached the subject a couple days ago. When her girls mention a new member of their group, she dives into facebook profiles and makes sure they’re the type of kid her girls should hang out with. She even uses Google Earth, to find their home when there’s parties.

I’m sure Lindsay isn’t alone in this – many parents take advantage of their friends facebook and social networking skills to keep an eye on their kids. Lindsay limits her stalking to what’s publicly available on the ‘Net for the most part, as they are her step-daughters, but admits that with her own kids, all bets are off if she suspects something is wrong. I’m going to ignore the difference there – as I’d treat them all the same, myself, but that’s how it works for her family, so that’s good for them. However – how deep should a parent go when it comes to their teenagers privacy?

I know most teens want parents to butt out – and I know most parents won’t. And I don’t think they should. As I told my kids, all along – no matter where you are, imagine me RIGHT BEHIND YOU, watching. I have spies EVERYWHERE, and I WILL find out. They only pushed against it a couple times, then discovered that indeed, mom DID have friends everywhere, and even something so simple as walking across the highway to a different store was noted and reported back to mom. Can’t get away with NUTHIN in this small town, GOSH.

If you’ve taught your teens to be aware that you WILL be randomly checking in on them – chances are they won’t misbehave. Too much. Sure they’ll push, it’s what they DO. It’s our job to find a happy medium.

Would I search my kids rooms randomly for no reason? No. If I suspected there was something really wrong? Absolutely. Once, I was talking to my son in his room, and was leaning against the fridge, and randomly popped it open. His jaw DROPPED because he knew what I’d find in there – and INSTANTLY confessed that it was there, it wasn’t his, it was unopened, he was just holding it for someone. He was telling the truth – about it being unopened, at least, which lead me to believe the rest. I didn’t demand that he nark o his friend, whichever one it was that had put the bottle in there. I simply demanded it be removed, and it not happen again, and why. The bottle disappeared, the situation has never happened re-occurred, and they know I’m prone to randomly opening their fridge. Or cupboard. Or lifting a stack of books I happen to be standing next to at the time while we talk. I fidget – and I use it to my advantage.

I think the bottom line is this: if you suspect something is actively WRONG, then do some snooping. Otherwise, find a comfortable medium for you and your teens. Which means – and you know exactly what I’m going to say here, right? Here we go, let’s say it together, ok? 1. 2. 3.

TALK TO YOUR KIDS.

Sometimes, it’s really that simple.

[There are a wealth of things available to help keep track of your teens - we'll get to them tomorrow...]

In my family, when the women get together, the men often joked (lamented, complained, laughed) that if they wanted to be heard they had to speak fast and LOUD in order to get a word in edgewise. It wasn’t entirely untrue – my sister, mom and I can certainly talk quite fast, and quite loud while we laugh and joke and tease and scold and roll eyes and all manner of other expressions.

We’re loud.
I’m loud.

We’re very Irish, we wear our emotions on our sleeves, across our faces, in our voices, in our actions – and not just the happy ones either.

Over the past week or so, the internets have been all a-twitter (hahahaha!) about yelling at their kids. It’s not the first time this has been a subject of conversation either – the NYT parenting blog hosted a story of a mom who yelled at her kids and threw some crayons back in January. This mother worries that she has scarred her kids by scaring them, and that it’s irreparable, though she apologized to them later and turned it into a “learning experience”.

So – she yelled, threw something on the floor, walked away and she think she’s a bad parent. Excuse me for a moment.

[hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!!]

Naturally, there are pages and pages of comments ranging from the fact that it’s borderline abusive, to how it’s ok not to be a perfect parent. Stories of yelling by their parents and ‘continuing the cycle’ as well as more frightening tales (to me) of a father who “ignores the bad behavior.” She’ll eventually grow out of the need to tear all the pages out of my books and breaking her toys and putting holes in the walls, right?

Dude. Seriously. Why is this even a debate? EVERYONE parents their child differently. (Granted, if most parented like me, your kids would be just as awesome as mine, but then who would my kids beat up?) Why do we think everyone has to react and parent and teach the exact same way, to kids who are each individually different and respond completely different to identical situations? No two kids in the same FAMILY are the same, let alone there existing a universal medium.

So let me give you some advice here. You can take it or leave it, you can applaud or curse, either way – it’s my blog and I’m gonna give you some awesome advice, ok? Are you ready? Here we go:

It’s OK to lose your shit in front of your kids.

Now I’m not telling you it’s ok to chase them down the hall with a belt screaming obscenities at them or anything extreme, but kids have to learn that we parents are human too. We get pushed to a limit, backed into a corner, and sometimes – JUST LIKE THEM – we lose our shit. We yell, we curse, we throw things, we tell them that if we have to have this talk ONE MORE TIME we’re gonna LOSE OUR DAMN MINDS.

Is it gonna startle them? Yes. Is it gonna terrify them? Possibly. (…and what kinda pansies you raisin’ over there anyway?!) Is it gonna scar them for life? No.

My real problem with this is the expectation that to be a perfect parent, we have to reach some ultimate zen-like calm where nothing ever ruffles our feathers, and our children become perfect little angels automatically. It’s not automatic. A young boy will reach for a flame. He’s not going to respond to “oh no sweetheart, that’s hot, please don’t…oh dear, someone call 911.” He WILL respond to a sharp “NO!” and perhaps a swat on the butt to get his attention. A determined young boy will touch that flame anyway, but will think twice about doing it again. (guess which boy mine was, go on – GUESS.)

All the talking in the world, sometimes, does not get through to my teenagers. And they know when I’ve reached the end of my rope. I am a yeller. I slam doors. I remove privileges. When they were young, I spanked. I also pull out the big guns, when it’s really needed – the “I’m disappointed in you” speech. And then we talk some more.

Do I apologize for yelling? Sometimes. Do I think I’m doing them irreparable harm by rising my voice? Not at all. Have I lost the respect of my children? Not in the least.

Most importantly: Do we still love and trust and show our affection as easily as our ire? Absofuckinlutely.

For all the times I’ve yelled, I know that there are far more times that I’ve grabbed them in a hug, that I’ve told them I love them, and am proud of them. For all the doors I’ve slammed, I know there’s far more doors I’ve opened for them, by teaching them that it’s ok not to be perfect, as long as you love each other and resolve to work together to solve whatever problem got you to that point. For all the privileges they lost for a time, I know that they have gained a greater sense of responsibility rather than loss, and it will serve them far better once they have stepped into the world where I can no longer protect them.

We laugh, we cry, we scream, we go disappointingly silent. And we yell.

In fact, just this morning I yelled at The Pup down the street as she waited for her bus. It sounded like this:

“HAVE A GOOD DAY AT SCHOOL! I LOVE YOU! GET THAT HOMEWORK THIS TIME!”

She yelled back, too – finishing off with a roll of her pre-teen eyes, I’m sure – and I’m perfectly OK with that.

When I was a teenager – you know, back when dinosaurs roamed the earth – my dad used to have a grand ole time frightening the hell out of the guys I would date. He’d like to say that my not dating very much as a teen was a direct result of that, when actually I’ve always been the ‘long relationship’ kinda girl. When I got my first boyfriend, just a few weeks before my fifteenth birthday, my dad finally had a chance to make good on his threats. When Jimmy first came to our house, and every time thereafter (I wasn’t technically allowed to date until I was 18, so “dating” involved his coming to my house, and meeting at parent sanctioned youth group activities.), my dad was seen sitting on the couch, working his way through sharpening every knife in the house – pocket knives to carving knives. He bought a special sharpening set that involved three different stones, and to this day I can still hear the shhhhhhhhhhhht shhhhhhhhhhhht shhhhhhhhhhhht of them honing the edges of perfect blades. Jimmy, who apparently had bigger balls that we realized, eventually offered my dad HIS pocket knife and asked him to teach him how to sharpen it.

By the time I began dating the man who became my husband, my sister had been dating for some time, and dad had graduated from the knives, to cleaning the guns. My husbands favorite story involved the fact that he showed my dad HIS guns FIRST – thus beginning what was to be a life long friendship, between the two of them.

Now, my dad never overtly, obviously, so much in words THREATENED my boyfriends, but he did enjoy making them nervous, and letting them know that he demanded respect for his daughters, and he wouldn’t be shy about getting it. My husband looked forward to doing the same for our daughters, and since his passing, my son has threatened to do so in his honor, much to Peppermist’s dismay. (And don’t think Papa won’t be helping – he will!)

Mostly, it was in good fun, where the boys knew where they stood (slightly above a cockroach, as long as they kept their hands to themselves and treated us respectfully) and the boys even got a good chuckle out of it, once they were able to face dad without turning white and trembling. It was a great conversation starter (for my dad, though he never had to SAY anything) and something we’ve always laughed about. But something tells me the man in Apopka Florida didn’t get the memo that threats by dads/step-dads were supposed to be somewhat sort of tongue in cheek, but not actually CARRIED OUT.

Wade Edwards, upon finding his step-daughter having sex with her boyfriend in his house, closed the door grabbed his gun, and not only chased Julian Harp from the house yelling at him – but shot him. Four times.

Shot him.
Four times.

Neighbors commented that they felt Edwards may have “overreacted” but understood that he just wanted to protect his daughter. May have overreacted? He SHOT HIM FOUR TIMES.

Look, I get it, you want to protect your kids – we all do. You don’t want them having sex until they’re older – that would be optimal. But you have GOT to realize that some things are just going way too far. The daughter wasn’t being attacked, she’d invited her boyfriend into the room for the express purpose of banging him. Then the stepfather tried to say that it was self defense, that Harp jumped out at him, so he shot him – from behind him as Harp ran away. Uh huh.

So – let’s break this down for those who should know better, just in case it REALLY needs to be said (and really, if it does? I worry about you people!)

Making threats as to what you will do to your daughter’s boyfriends = a right of passage.
Actually shooting said boyfriend for banging your daughter, even if it’s in your house = felony.

We clear? Good. Consider this your Tuesday PSA.

As I’m sure ya’ll have figured out by now – I’m very much a pro-express yourself kinda gal. I dig piercings, tattoos and body modification, and find the extremes weirdly fascinating. I dig people who know what they like, and have the inner strength to do as they please with their bodies as canvas, and even their dress code. I’ve always been a BIG supporter of allowing teenagers to express themselves through various means – hair color, mode of dress, etc. – with just one rule: Keep it tasteful, beware the slut factor, and for the love of all things holy, son, please pull up your pants so I don’t have to see your crack.

Not all parents/adults are as tolerant as I am, and that’s come to a head at the North Cobb High School in Georgia. Jonathan Escobar recently transferred after moving in with his sister. His preferred mode of dress includes skinny jeans, women’s flats, make-up, and wigs. He was told by school officials last week to either dress more “manly” or choose home schooling, citing the dress code rule with prohibits attire that is “disruptive to school activities.” It seems that the pink wig on day three is what was deemed too over-the-top, after a group of students surrounded Escobar in the lunchroom.

Now, I’m not against having a dress code at any school – my kids school has one, and I went through years of an extremely strict dress code (including uniforms!) at private schools. My kids aren’t to wear shirts with sayings that are deemed vulgar, there are no ‘belly shirts’ or sleeveless wear, etc. Other than that, the floor is pretty much open to dress as you please. We have everything from uber-fashionable, to goth to hippie to jock, you name it. It can all be found within those guidelines. I’m not sure how my town would react to someone with Escobar’s flair for fashion, though. Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure they’d fall in line with the Georgia School Board – and that bugs me.

You see, one of my BIGGEST pet peeves is double standards. I’m a BIG believer in what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Don’t tell me it’s ok for a boy to do something, but not a girl, or vice versa because I WILL say something about it. Which leads me to this question: are they telling the girls to dress more “feminine” if they come to school in jeans and a football jersey? Or with combat boots and a men’s button down and tie? By the commenters on the article that have attended Cobb High, or know of it – they are not stopping goth attire, or any other mode of fashion expression which makes this a case of intolerance simply because a boy enjoys vintage female clothing and makeup.

He wasn’t wearing a skirt or a dress. For the three days he attended Cobb High School, he wore skinny jeans and vintage tops, a wig and flats. He wasn’t wearing high heels, a flamboyant wig that was 3 feet high, he wasn’t dressed to the nines as the ultra drag queen. He is a boy, in skinny jeans. His mode of dress is well in line with the clothing guidelines of the school -thus it’s REALLY only an issue because he’s a boy, and they don’t find him man enough.

Jonathan clearly understands that there will be bullying. He is willing to stand up to that, which shows an inner strength that few teenagers show. He’s willing to stand against the prejudices of others, to wear his skinny jeans. Why not use this as an occasion to teach tolerance and acceptance? Why not use this as a lesson in accepting your friends the way they are?

Some say it’s not their job to teach tolerance, it should be taught at home. I agree with you – however, you know it’s not being done in some circles. While it’s not your job to parent, it’s your job to TEACH, and when a situation presents itself, you are doing yourself a disservice if you let it slide by without addressing it.

Face it – in a week, the novelty would have worn off, no one would think twice about what the kid wears. Adults, as a general rule, don’t give teenagers much credit, and their often far more open and accepting than we think they will be. Why not give them the chance to prove it?

We raise them pretty smart around here, for the most part. Case in point, a young man who attends the same school as my son wrote an article for the local paper concerning the logistics of turning 18 while still a senior in high school and how that can put a strain on the relationships with us poor parents.

He’s got some good advice in there as he talks about what worked for his family. They engaged in what say here all the time – TALKING with each other – and found a solution that fit his parents and himself, as they work through this new stage in their relationship.

I remember turning 18 in the last half of my Senior year. To me, it didn’t makr some change to where I suddenly felt like an adult. I could vote! But, well, there wasn’t an election handy. I could be tried as an adult! But, well, I was a good girl, and all senses of the word. (Quit laughing, mom. You know I was!) I could… well. I could move out and live on my own and only answer to myself – but I also had several months of school left. In the end, it just wasn’t that much different. I didn’t even sign my own excuse notes for school – because I never skipped it.

I know. I was SUCH a goody two-shoes.

If you haven’t talked to your teen about it yet, and they’re nearing that magical Adult Age, maybe you should discuss it with them. Let them know ahead of time what the rules will be, and come to a consensus of what will be expected of them as long as they’re living under your roof. With my parents it was simple, and we didn’t need to go so far as young Mr. Misner, with a 3rd party contract and such. My parents put it the same way as I did to my kids: My house, my rules.

Fortunately, though it seems pretty iron clad? There’s still room for negotiation. So, bottom line? Say it with me, folks! TALK TO YOUR KIDS. You’ll be glad you did!

In the last few years – well, ever since I became a parent, I think – I’ve noted a disturbing trend that just seems to get worse and worse. It’s the ‘blame someone else for your problems and get a professional to corroborate with you so it’s acceptable’ trend. I don’t like it. In fact, it drives me absolutely crazy.

Here’s the thing – every single time a problem arises with our teenagers, or something that is deemed a problem with might not really be one at all, someone suggests counseling. Maybe it’s the parent, maybe it’s other parents, but someone, somewhere, wants those teenagers slapped in counseling stat! It’s the standard answer to EVERYTHING. Backtalking teen? Make ‘em talk to a professional. Fighting with a sibling over silly stuff? Dude. Counseling. Teenager embarrassed to be seen with you? OMFG GET IN THERE NOW!

It’s RIDICULOUS.

Now, as opposed as I am to letting some stranger talk to my kids and tell me what they’re all about for reasons that will appear in a moment, I know that there are times that such things are needed. There are instances where counseling is not only the only thing that will help, but also the last resort. I’m not saying that all counselors are bad, and should be lined up and shot or anything drastic like that. If the need is there, use the resources. I’m simply saying that as parents, we seem to be a LOT more prone to overreacting and sweating the small stuff than ever before.

Here’s something that a lot of parent’s forget (along with forgetting what WE were like when WE were teenagers!) – if you have built a relationship with your child, where you talk often and freely, than you have no need for a stranger to help you with the little things. That stranger doesn’t know your child. Despite any changes that are currently driving you nuts – YOU know your child better than ANYONE. You just need to step back and think calmly about it.

Here’s the thing: Teenagers are trying to grow up, and often times, we’re trying to hold them back. This results in the age old fight about what responsibilities they’re really ready for. We often talk by yelling, instead of talking calmly and setting guidelines. We instantly bash them for being disrespectful, while they scream we just don’t understand! And no one steps back, takes a breath, and LISTENS.

A counselor’s job is to listen, yes. But shouldn’t it be YOUR job first? I mean, I get it. It’s hard. You’re busy. They won’t listen to you. They just fight and fight and take advantage and never give in. It’s a battle that will never be won. Who is this stranger living your house, anyway, and why can’t you have your baby back?

Face it, parents. Try as you might, you cannot stop the growing up process, or the struggle your teen is going to go through to establish their own identity. The more you mourn the child they WERE, the more you miss of the awesome person they ARE.

As you’ve seen me preach here ever since I took over this blog, my message remains the same. TALK TO YOUR KIDS.

-If your teenagers won’t stop fighting with your pre-teen, realize that it’s a STAGE, it happens, and it’s no reason to force the resentment that will surely come from forcing them into a situation unwarranted with a stranger. And they will resent it. As long as no one is physically hurting the other, and there are glimmers of times they get along – deal with it on your own. Don’t cop out. Sit down with your teens and CALMLY talk about your own experiences with your siblings. My sister and I, for instance, were at each others throats a LOT. We’re much better now, and though she still drives me nuts at times, I consider her a friend, and not just my sister.

Don’t paint your life with your siblings as perfect, or as hell on wheels. Tell it true, good and bad, and remind them that sometimes family is all you have. Work together with your teens to find some common ground, some way that they can bond with their younger (and annoying, of course) sibling. Remind them they’re older, and more mature, and they’re going to have to start acting like it. Their younger sibling idolizes the ground they walk on – they need to cut her/him some lack now and again. Make sure that you set boundaries with the younger one too. As much as they want to be with their cooler older siblings 24-7, they CAN’T. They need to learn to back off, just as the teens need to learn to give them time. Compromise – it is your friend.

- If your kid backtalks and slams doors and fights over every decision you make, sit them down and start a dialog about these decisions. They’re growing up. They want some say. You hold the ultimate card, but often talking to them so that they understand your worry goes a long way. Compromise – within limits – is your friend! Give a little, and they will respect it a lot. Ask their opinion. You’d be SHOCKED at how smart they really are!

And if they slam the door again, take it off the hinges for a while. They’ll learn.

- Realize that even if they complain and bitch about your rules, they understand on some level that you’re keeping them safe, and they respect it. They may push against those boundaries and force you to crack down, but that’s how they learn. You’re teaching them personal responsibility. No stranger can do that for you.

“But!” – you cry, and yes, I can hear it – “What if they fail? What if they get hurt? What if they don’t listen and something goes wrong and they suffer for it? What if they never realize I’m right and they make the same mistakes I did?”

Three words for you: Let. Them. Fail.

I know. It’s hard. We want to protect them from the mistakes we made, and we want to tell them how to skip that part and be automatically little adults with perfect lives, because it means we did our job perfectly. And when the Teen acts out, and fights back, and tries to squirm out an extra hour after curfew, call their little sister a name, gets their heart broken by the guy you told her not to see – we can temporarily lose our focus. Putting our kids in a perfectly padded little room does NOTHING to teach them how to deal with their problems. Some day, we won’t be there. We need to give them the tools to prepare for that day.

Bottom line is this – your kids best counselor is you. Be a good role model. Be honest with them about your past. Talk to them and tell them what helped you get through it. LISTEN to them without judgment, and give them the opportunity to take risks. You’ll be there to help them back up when they fall. Don’t teach them to rely on some stranger to put them back together again – teach them to rely on THEMSELVES, by allowing them to rely on YOU.

Yeah, that means that someday? They won’t need us. But that’s ok, because then they’ll come to us for advice anyway, because we’ve a proven track-record – we’re trustworthy, and we love them no matter what mistakes they make. We’re raising responsible adults here, not overly coddled entitled whiner monkeys. Make a stand, pick your battles, LISTEN to your teen and TALK it out.

Then? You just might not need that counselor after all.

Wow. So I’ve been wandering around a couple of boards lately, inviting folks here, checking out some of the parent/teenager relationships, and some of the issues that they’re dealing with, and one thing stands out more than anything else:

They don’t LIKE their teenagers. At all.

Now, maybe it’s a case of only the unhappy complain, but I definitely felt like I was in the minority due to the fact I really, genuinely love to hang around my kids – and my kids? FAR from perfect, just like me. A lot of their issues too seem so very minor to me that it leaves me wondering – when did parents forgot what it was like to BE a teen?

Needless to say, I’ll occasionally be addressing some of these “issues” in my typically smartass and snarky caring and sensitive way. A “Dear PTB” segment, if you will. Sure, they didn’t actually ASK for my advice, but being who I am? I’m gonna give it anyway.

Disclaimer: All opinions are mine, and I’m not a professional – just a mom. Posts have been edited to protect the ‘innocent’.

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Dear PTB:
My 14 year old is Crazy! She doesn’t pick up her crap, her bathroom is disgusting and she eats whatever she wants without asking! Her shrink says no medication needed, but HELP! She’s out of CONTROL!

Dear Seeking Control in a Mad Mad World:
Get a grip! Welcome to life with a 14 year old girl!

In my experience, teenage girls will eat more than teenage boys, who often get a bad rap for it. Fact of the matter is, a teenage girl will MAKE something to eat and enjoys the act of putting things together – teenage boys refuse to try unless it takes 2 minutes or less in the microwave! True story!

So why do you want her to ask before she eats? Are you THAT big of a control freak? She’s a growing kid, and if she’s taking care of herself, that’s a stand of independence and LESS WORK FOR YOU.

Granted, the not cleaning up after herself or her bathroom, that could be more work, but again – WELCOME TO BEING A MOM OF A TEENAGE GIRL. This does not make her crazy or in need of therapy or on medication. It makes her NORMAL. It makes her a TEENAGER. Your job as a mom is not to slap her ass onto meds, or try to “fix” her. Nothing is broken. Unless there are other things to bitch about, I say lay off the poor kid. You’re the one who’s gonna drive her mental!

The main issue seems to be about cleaning up – so set some boundaries, and guidelines, by TALKING to your KID and INVOLVING her in the DISCUSSION. This is a CONTROL issue, and at 14, your daughter is just looking to have a little control over her own life. This is not a bad thing! A little respect goes a LONG way – even if in something so simple an issue as this.

For my kids, their room is THEIR place. They wanna live in a stinkhole pit of disgustingness, that’s their call. I don’t let them have friends over if it gets TOO bad, though – if I need hazmat gear to go into their room? It’s time to clean up.

When Peppermist decided she wanted to redecorate her room I let her make the decisions – she chose the paint color, she and her friends did all the work, painting, rearranging, hanging curtains and pictures, and made it her own sanctuary. Now, me, I wouldn’t want to live in a HOT PINK room with purple trim, but it’s not MY room. It’s hers. She loves it, and she even borrowed her friends carpet cleaner to put the finshing touches on her room. Is it still squeaky clean? No. Do I expect it to be? No.

Things left in the living room/common areas of the house bothering you? Ask her nicely to take care of it. If it is REALLY that big of an issue for you (for me, it’s not and really, have you thought about therapy? No? That’s a ridiculous idea? INORITE?!) then bag it up and put it in her room. She’ll get the picture – especially if you casually mention you almost mistook the garbage bag of her crap for actual garbage and carted it to the curb.

You see, it’s about having reasonable expectations and picking your battles. A messy room is not that big of deal in the grand scheme of things, especially if there’s no other, bigger, problems. If she’s not trying to hide teenage boys under that mass of dirty cloths, or drugs under yesterdays dinner trash, than why is it a big deal? Most teens discover they don’t want to live in a total pigsty, and those who don’t, well, they discover that the way to hell is not paved with dirty gym shorts and mismatched socks. They also discover that when they start purchasing their own things, and living on their own – they take care of their things – and themselves – better.

It’s all in learning personal responsibility – and not going to some shrink to decide that they really don’t clean their room because they hate you, themselves, and life in general. Clearly the therapist saw through this since they told you there’s no need for medication – and there’s NOT! There are much bigger issues that you could be faced with, so cut the kid some slack, will you?

She’s not crazy. She’s 14.
~ptb

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So what do YOU think about this “crazy” 14 year old? Have a different take on it? Some other advice? Wanna tell me that I”M crazy? Hit up the comments and go for it!

Also – See that new button up at the top? Got a question you want me to irreverently and snarkily tackle? Ask PTB!

I had my first crush when I was five. His name was Jimmy H. and he lived in the house behind us. He was two years older, wiser, and so very handsome – it was destiny that we marry and have many babies that had his dark good looks. We were BFFs and practically inseparable – watching Batman on TV, than acting it out. I of course, was either Batgirl or Catwoman depending, on the episode that day.

I had my first kiss in first grade. While Jimmy H. was still my BFF, there was another boy who lived down the street from me named Doug. He wore a leather jacket, rode a brand new Huffy bike, and was always getting into trouble. He was a Bad Boy, and I was head over heels in love. We played freeze tag. He choose to unfreeze me by kissing my cheek. I was a goner, and thus began my infatuation with bad boys.

I had my first ‘boyfriend’ in 4th or 5th grade. Another Jimmy, Jimmy K. I remember walking the halls all through our recesses at the local Christian School, talking about anything and everything. I still have the necklace his mom made for him to give to me for Christmas that year – it still makes me smile. I cried when he moved away.

My first actual boyfriend came into my life at a sports retreat just before my 15th birthday. His name – unsurprisingly at this point – was Jimmy. Jimmy M. I had my first real kiss that same weekend, and we dated for 2 years. I went on to have other boyfriends, of course, but that’s how it all started.

But there’s some things missing in there, too. I had my first girl crush when I was 10. Her name was Laura, and I didn’t really think about it, because we’d been total BFFs for some time, and it seemed natural and right to want to grow up and share a house and be together forever. I didn’t delve any deeper to see if it meant more than BFF, because I didn’t care. I just knew we’d be together forever. I cried when she moved away.

After that, there was a steady stream of female friends, and looking back now, I can pinpoint the exact time I realized that my girl crushes likely meant I was bisexual. It wasn’t anyone I knew personally, but instead it was Suzanne from the Bangles and one key moment of the Walk Like An Egyptian video. There’s a close up of her eyes, and she looks from side to side on beat, and I’ve never forgotten that image ever. I wanted to stare at her, into those eyes, forever. It was 1986, I was 16 years old, and I never told a soul.

It’s not surprising that I’d choose to keep such a discovery under wraps, considering my background in Christian schools, attending church three times a week, and living in such a conservative town. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever come right out and told my mom that I dig girls, too, (…hi mom! *L*) Though I think she’s figured it out over the years.

So why bring it up now? I ran into an article from the NYTimes today, that discusses kids coming out – as early as Middle School, to their peers, their parents, their classes, their whole school. While there is still a LONG way to go, these students and their families are putting it all on the line to help put a stop to gay-bashing by simply being themselves, and being unafraid to do so. As the article points out, and using my own experience, no one thought twice to ask me if I was SURE I liked Jimmy K in grade school, or if it was just a phase. No one pushed me to identify my feelings, and make sure I liked him, because that is the acceptable norm. So why do we do that to our gay/lesbian/bisexual students of the same age group?

Middle School is a time where kids are discovering their identity, in all ways, including their sexuality. Whether they choose to come out or not at that age, it’s unsurprising that many can pinpoint their first discoveries of sexual orientation at that time, or even a bit earlier. Schools across the country are forming Gay Straight Alliance clubs, where they can meet together – no matter the orientation, and support each other. They understand what should be obvious – you don’t have to have sexual interaction in order to identify your attraction, and expecting our kids to identify strictly as straight because it’s easier isn’t fair to them, or us.

But in some areas, it’s getting better, and that’s where we need to keep our focus. It’s not automatically assumed that being gay leads to a life of loneliness and heartbreak any longer. Schools that would never allow their students to say “That’s so black!” are finally cracking down on the students that say “that’s so gay!” as well. We’re taking steps toward acceptance, and I find that encouraging! We’ve a long way to go, but movement in the right direction should be applauded.

So if your pre-teen/teenager has the balls to come to you and tell you they’re gay/lesbian/bisexual – don’t ask them if it’s a phase, don’t ask them if they’re sure, or how they could possibly know if they’re not sexually active (because that’s just silly, people!). Accept them with open arms, realize that they are STILL your kid, they’re still the amazing individual you’ve been raising all these years. Support them. It will go a LONG way to ensuring their happiness, which is what we ultimately want for our kids anyway, right?

Right! Make me proud, ya’ll!

WTF Universe? Srsly. WTF?

So he failed his test. That was bad enough, and he was quite upset – but his day was not to get much better, because, when The boy returned home from work that night, we discovered his Ferret was having seizures, and had severely dehydrated himself over the previous 24 hours. He stood there with tears in his eyes, I explained that I wasn’t sure anything could be done, but how to try to get the little guy to drink some water, and to just cuddle and love on him for a while.

By morning, it was clear there was nothing that could be done.

I talked it over with The Boy, before school, and he asked me to take the lil guy to the vet, and if it was decided there was nothing that could be done, to take care of it before he got home. He went to get ready for school, and hit the garage door with his fist as he headed to his room.

“Mom, I think I just broke my hand.”

…

Yeah. So I checked his hand – he said it didn’t really hurt much, it wasn’t swelling right away, so I took him to school, then called Auntie Ladybug, so that she could help deal with the Ferret. At the vet, they found a mass they were pretty sure would be discovered to be cancer. Bottom line – he was in pain, and too far gone already. There was nothing that could be done, so we had to put him down. Auntie Ladybug and I buried him in the backyard, next to our cat that died a few years ago of old age.

It wasn’t easy, at all, to make the decision, and to hear the pain and sadness in his voice when he called to ask if it was done. When I picked him up though, there was another cause for the pain. His hand was swollen, and it was clear he had indeed done more damage to his hand rather than to my door.

So, it was off to the doctor – on a time crunch, as I needed to work at 4pm – and we got him seen. He’d fractured the metacarpal ‘neck’ of his right pinky – the spot just below the knuckle in his hand. We got him splinted up, and called in to his work to get the night off, and than dashed home so that I could do my job too.

At some point, in the doctors office, I knew he’d started to get a handle on things, and return to the boy I see every day. Wanna know what clued me in? When he was standing behind the cute PA at the computer, and mimed grabbing her butt – and referred to her afterward as “the one with the grabbable ass….”

That’s my boy.

(but Universe? If you could give us a rest between beatings, I’d sure appreciate it. At the very least, provide me with happy drugs – like, oh, margarita’s as big as my head? ktnxbai!)

So, remember back when I told you of the PTA live induction of their new leaders that would be held online? I didn’t make it myself, but the ever lovely Julie dropped us a note to thank those that did! And, if you – like me – didn’t make it to the live event, you can view it for the next three months by clicking here. Enjoy – and thanks Julie for letting us know!

In other news, Candice, who is lovely as well, dropped me a note on behalf of PATS (Parents Attitude Tracking Study) and the Partnership for a Drug-Free America. They recently conducted a survey to see how Dads are doing in helping their kids in the fight against Drug and Alcohol use. The data collected, reveals that dads tend to take a much more passive role than mom’s when it comes to those kinds of talks, which could mean their missing a valuable opportunity to hep teach their kids.

It seems that Father’s were 3x more likely to believe the teaching about drug and alcohol use and abuse should happen in school, and report having a greater difficulty reconciling the desire to have their child see them as a friend, rather than setting the rules – though the majority of parents believe a friendship with their kids is important too.

If you’re having problems talking to you kids about drugs/alcohol, then check out drugfree.org, and read through their helpful hints to get the conversation flowing. As with everyone else around here – my stand is exactly the same: TALK TO YOUR KIDS. You might find them a lot smarter than you think.

In that same line of TALKING TO YOU KIDS, Nana recently send me a copy of the newsletter she receives at work. My mom works with the local womens shelter, and also facilitates a batterers education group for those who have such classes mandated by the courts. Yeah, I know, she’s pretty freakin awesome, ain’t she? Anyway, the subject of this newsletter is respect.

When I’m out and about, something that drives me NUTS, is when a child is disrespectful, and the parent stands there and says “I don’t know WHERE s/he gets it!” and less then 2 seconds later, said parent is extremely disrespectful themselves. Respect is a LEARNED BEHAVIOR folks, and if they don’t see it at home, they sure as hell won’t practice it out in the world.

This leads into discussions about dating and violence. Parents say their kids aren’t getting the message, and I say it’s time for the parents to TALK MORE and get it out there. If you’re having problems getting those conversations started, giverespect.org has several tips for you, so that you can get your kids to realize what exactly a healthy relationship is. Be sure and check it out!

And hey – have a conversation with your Teen today, will ya? You’ve got no excuses now!

PS: Interested in things affecting your Teen’s health and well-being? Check out Ann Engelland’s blog and get some information straight from the doctor’s mouth, so to speak. hee.