hErDIng sQUirReLs
22Jun/10Off

I say no




I was talking to a friend of mine today, about kid stuff. Teen stuff. Stuff that we all face and stuff we all hate to admit our kids are up to-- even though these things happen to everyone. It's the secret stuff you don't talk to people about (except maybe when huddled in the closet, drinking wine and talking to your mom... or close girlfriend.)

My friend asked about her 15 year-old daughter, who is going through a tough time, making bad choices... and now she wants to go hang out with a group of friends who are all 18 and heading to the beach for the weekend. What would I do, she asks? Would I let her go,if she was my daughter?

It takes me almost an entire nanosecond to answer: HELL NO.

And then came her relief-- that vindication that can only come from knowing someone else would have made the same choice. As though we're mentally reminding ourselves, "See? We parents aren't horrible human beings!"

Why do we moms do this? Why is it, when our kids make bad choices and we discipline them and cut back on freedoms, and deal with the fallout and the tears and the tantrums (that seem to return around age 15 again)...why do we moms feel guilty for making our kids tow the line? Why do we second guess the limits we place, as though we are somehow the bad guys?

I don't know why I have those moments of guilt... but I do. I get so sick of being the bad guy. I get sick of having to say no. And when I say having to, I mean literally, it is the only choice a sane, rational, responsible parent could make. To wit:
No, you can't stick the scissors in a light socket, no matter how cool it may appear.
No, you can't drink soda at bedtime.
No, 15-year-old, you can't spend the weekend at the beach with a group of 18-year-old's and no parents.

No, you can't go to the movies on a school night, and certainly not on the night before that chemistry test.

No, you can't skip cleaning your room for the third time and clean it when you get home instead, maybe, like you promised me last time (and I'm still waiting on it).

No, you can't take the car and hang out at that friend-I-don't-know's house. No, not even if your BFF will be with you.

No, you can't stay up and watch that scary movie, 7-year-old.

No, no, no, no, no. Sometimes I think my entire vocabulary is no.

So I relish the upside, when I can: There is comfort in numbers. There is a sense of contentment when, while making the tough choice and being mean and horrible and the worst parent ever, having relegated yourself to the land of lonely by saying NO... that you are not, in fact, any of those things. There is so much vindication-- and blessed relief-- in knowing others would say no in that situation, too.

...plus there's the fun part about being asked to "play expert" and explaining my no and having someone else totally get it.

...friends are the best.

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Comments (3) Trackbacks (0)
  1. OMG….totally RELATED and loved this post! Are you kidding? 18 year olds, history of bad choices and there is ONLY ONE ANSWER…. “NO! Not as long as there is a breath in my body!!!” And….to the mom’s who say, “Well, she’s growing up and she really wants to…” I say… better yours than mine. My daughter may hate me for a little while…but she won’t be drunk, pregnant and living with me forever!

  2. EXACTLY! I think, honestly, that 16 was the toughest year by far. Something magical happened on the very day they turned 17– like the little birds came down from the heavens and anointed their heads with ribbons and harps played and suddenly they returned to normalcy.

  3. Amen! I was the bad mom yesterday for sayingno to a 14year old coed sleepover. Hell no. Good to read your sory


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