It’s been a long road from birth to 17-years-old with my son. Parenting is not for the weak. From potty training to surviving a divorce, I can safely say we’ve been through the wringer.
Sure, my son can be a pain at times. He’s a teenager for God’s sake. He’s still learning about his body and learning that he actually really likes the opposite sex. My son also realizes that he’s on the cusp of adulthood. For him, that’s probably exciting and scary all at once.
I’ve done the best I can to raise him to be a responsible and caring adult. So next time we sit down for coffee or a well-deserved chat on the phone, there are at least five things you should not say to me about my son.
He’s going to prom and you’re just now having the sex talk with him?
Yes, he’s going to prom, and yes, we are having the sex talk. This isn’t his first sex talk. If you’ll recall from our previous conversations, we’ve been having the talk about all things sexual since he was old enough to know he had a penis! While our discussions have been tailored for age appropriateness, I’ve spent countless hours over the past 15 years talking about where babies come from and how they get here. This talk just happens to be about condoms and safe sex and is definitely going to embarrass him. He’s old enough now for this sex talk.
So you know that giving him condoms is like giving him permission to have sex, right?
No, I didn’t know that, but thank you for your outdated opinion from the 1950s. I’m sure glad you pointed that out even though I’m still giving him the condoms. I dare to say that I remember how things could get out of control in the middle of a hot and heavy backseat make-out session. (Do teenagers still make out in cars?) While I don’t like to think my son has absolutely no restraint when it comes to sex, I know that if the time comes and he decides to move forward, he’ll be prepared. Isn’t that part of parenting? Preparing your children for everything you possibly can?
He’s probably already having sex. How naive are you to think he’s still a virgin? It’s 2015.
Yeah, I’ve heard this before. Especially from men, but thank you anyway for thinking I’m a complete dumb shit who knows nothing about her child. We have a very open and honest communication policy, and my son actually takes advantage of that. I listen to him, and while I may not agree, I don’t jump down his throat and banish him to his room for every little thing he confides in me. I’ve been hoping his whole life he would be this type of teen. Feel comfortable coming to me with questions, hoping I’d have answers. I try. I also ask him questions. Like, “Hey. Are you having sex?” When he says “NO WAY, MOM,” in a horrified way, I tend to believe him. Besides, he’s told me he’s made out before. (I should ask about the car thing.)
[/nextpage] [nextpage title=”Page 2″ ]I can’t believe he’s told you he’s tried pot and beer and you haven’t sent him to rehab!
Seriously? This is ridiculous. The key word in what I’ve told you is “tried.” He’s not out sitting on a friend’s couch getting high all day and chugging beers. He has been working every day this summer mowing lawns and hanging out with me and helping around the house. He has plenty of time to binge on pot and beer in college. Where did you grow up that teenagers didn’t experiment and end up normal, functioning adults in the end? If for some reason he does need an intervention, I’ll be sure to call you first thing so you can write your letter of love.
Your son treats you like crap because you’ve raised a spoiled brat.
Hey, listen. My son does not have the market cornered on being an asshole to his parents. ALL teens exhibit that quality at some point. Between raging hormones and surviving a non-amicable divorce, he’s entitled to push my buttons at times. He’s also an asshole to me at times because contrary to what you believe, I do tell him he shouldn’t be drinking or trying drugs. That doesn’t always go over well. I don’t call your kids spoiled brats, and I often hold my tongue when I hear the way they talk to you. You are definitely in for a long road ahead because your children are still in grade school. Mine didn’t start on his career as PIA until 9th grade.
It’s hard raising a boy. It’s hard raising kids in general. Life is hard. Despite all the un-solicited parenting advice and offers of interventions I’ve received, I still think I’ve done a pretty damn good job.
The saying may be “it takes a village,” but I think I’m going to move out of this one.
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