Just Say No to Teenage Drinking

This morning’s Chicago Tribune had an article about New Trier officials’ alarm at the increase in binge drinking by their students, as reported anonymously in a survey the students complete annually to gauge teenage health and safety. As national underage drinking rates go down, New Trier’s has gone up.

Recently my teenage daughter told me she wished my husband and I were more “cool” about underage drinking. Apparently many teens’ parents tolerate and even expect a certain amount of drinking on the part of their high school kids. Many parents reason that it’s safer to have kids drink under their supervision. They feel it will lead to more responsible drinking in college.

But as New Trier assistant superintendent says, “All of the research shows it doesn’t work that way.” (“New Trier officials: Binge drinking grew exponentially,” Chicago Tribune, March 11, 2019) According to the Journal of Studies on Alcohol and Drugs, “Adolescents who attend parties where parents supply alcohol are at increased risk for heavy episodic drinking, alcohol-related problems, and drinking and driving.” (Celia Vimont, drugfree.org, Oct. 1, 2014)

It’s difficult as a parent to take a hard line on the issue of teen drinking. Our culture is very accepting of it, popular movies depict it, and it has come to be seen almost as a rite of passage for teenagers. And teens can find ways of sneaking alcohol unbeknownst to even the most vigilant parents. Yet the research is clear. As Stevenson High School’s substance abuse prevention coordinator Cristina Cortesi states, “We know all of the studies find the number one reason kids don’t use [alcohol] is their parents.” (Tribune, March 11, 2019)

As parents, we want our children to be happy and healthy. In the short term, our teens may hate us for holding the line on teenage drinking. But we need to take the long view and realize that it is their prosperous and happy future that should be our goal.

 

Let Them Eat Candy!

I’ve had a Come to Reese’s moment about Halloween. Since having kids, I’d become a bit of a Halloween Grinch. The whole holiday is exhausting for parents of young children. The costume dramas, the school parties, the candy wrappers all over the house, the kids hyped up on sugar. I couldn’t wait until November 1 each year when I could turn my mind from goblins to saints.

And I had a hard and fast rule about trick or treating. My kids were done after eighth grade. I found it obnoxious for hulking teenagers to show up at my door with their giant pillowcases, begging for treats. Many of them didn’t even dress up! Of course, I always gave them candy. I’d learned from Larry David’s experience on Curb Your Enthusiasm what happens to homeowners who refuse teenagers treats.

But this fall I’ve seen a plethora of articles and memes on Facebook imploring people to give teens a chance to go out with their pint-sized brethren and snag a few Snickers bars. After all, trick or treating is an innocent and harmless activity. More importantly, it brings out the child in our adolescents who are trying in so many other ways to be too cool for school.

Maybe I’m becoming soft in my old age. Now that my youngest is 17, maybe I’m just nostalgic for the days when my little princesses and pirates were dumping out their hauls of candy on my family room floor, excitedly chatting about their trick or treating adventures. Let’s face it. My adult children are more likely to be downing shots than M&Ms this Halloween.

So when my 17-year-old mentioned that some of her friends were going to trick or treat, I suggested she join them.

“Who are you?” she demanded. Like my other kids, she had internalized the “no trick or treating in high school” rule. (Who says I’m not an effective parent?)

“Sure,” I encouraged her. “I’ve had a change of heart about the whole thing. It’s a fun, wholesome activity. You should go.”

I even offered to make her and her friends our traditional Halloween snacks of wienie dogs and Bagel Bites. (Who says I’m not a provider of healthy food?)

Will she take me up on my offer to let her be a kid for the day? I hope so. And I hope to see fun-loving teenagers at my door tonight. With one caveat: I draw the line on trick or treaters who don’t wear a costume. So teens, put on some devil horns or cat ears and come on over!

Fashion Backward

Every morning my 16-year-old comes down the stairs wearing short shorts and an oversized sweatshirt or fleece pullover that makes it appear she is wearing no pants. This attire is worn irrespective of the weather and seems to be the new school “uniform.” At the risk of sounding like a crotchety old scold, I find this and many other teenage fashions mystifying, unattractive, and even a bit silly.

This morning while dropping my daughter off at the high school, I saw a girl wearing jeans with a large hole in each knee and a gigantic flannel shirt that would fit Paul Bunyan. In another context, I might have mistaken her for a panhandler. And just when I was getting used to girls wearing form-fitting leggings and tiny tops!

The new trend seems to be “working man chic.” Lumberjack shirts, chunky work boots, and ripped jeans are all very well on someone out chopping wood, pounding nails into the frame of a new home, or doing other forms of tough manual labor. But I can assure you that despite the over-sized blue work shirt my daughter wears, she is not performing any heavy duty physical tasks.

The style harks back to the Nineties grunge era, when bands like Nirvana reigned and people loved TV shows set in the rugged Pacific Northwest. I used to tease my older daughter about the ugliness of her “Kurt Cobain shirts,” as I referred to the shapeless, dull plaid flannel shirts that were a mainstay of her wardrobe. Isn’t life depressing enough, I would think to myself, without dressing like an extra in Deliverance?

Of all the styles that are popular now, though, the worst is the faded, ripped-up jeans that young women are wearing. In my day, a tear here and there in a pair of jeans was the result of many months or even years of loving wear and washing. Those rips were earned, by golly. Nowadays, girls spend beaucoup bucks on brand new jeans with dozens of meticulously made rips. The only way those rips would occur naturally would be if Freddy Krueger came through and made several swipes at them.

I must admit, though, the new styles are reminding me of my own fashion faux pas from years gone by. I too loved sporting oversized shirts and had a penchant for men’s white Calvin Klein undershirts tucked into my stone-washed, waist-high jeans. Come to think of it, I wore even more embarrassing styles – like gaucho pants! I had a pair of yellow ones that I paired with a brightly-colored, striped t-shirt. I’m pretty sure I looked liked a toucan.

I guess every generation despises the styles of the ones younger than theirs. Still, ladies, if you want your jeans ripped up, come on over and I’ll do it for free.

The Invisible Mom

In the 1980s television series thirtysomething, the character Elliot Weston complains to his best friend and business partner Michael Steadman that they have become “invisible to teenage girls.” That remark really resonated with me as a new mother whose body was now a soft and nurturing landing place for my infant daughter instead of a curvy and sexy one men might find attractive.

That feeling of invisibility has changed over the years as my children have grown and I have experienced a different way of being invisible to teenagers. As a mom, I’m sort of like Mt. Everest – never-changing, solid, and just there. Immersed in their world of Snap Chat and Instagram, my kids seldom really notice me, except when they’re hungry or need money.

I’ve felt that same sense of invisibility in the hallways of the local high school. On the few occasions when I have been there during the school day, I will be walking down the hall and hear all kinds of profanity being shouted between teens who are blissfully unaware of the middle-aged woman in knee-length skirt and sensible shoes. It’s a bit jarring to hear, as is the sight of boys and girls canoodling in corners. This is their world, and I am just a vapor floating through it.

Still, there are some benefits to being invisible to teens. As frequent chauffeur for my kids and their friends, I have the ability to be a fly on the wall, listening to their teasing, gossip, and teenage patois, all while being perfectly unseen. The only way to break that spell of invisibility in the car is to interject my own comments, so I have learned to be the silent specter getting a glimpse into the teenage world.

On my recent visit to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, puppeteers did a skit depicting the story of a man gifted with a cloak of invisibility. Thus clad, the man was able to escape Death, who roamed the Earth ceaselessly in search of souls. Harry Potter himself uses the cloak to defeat the powers of evil represented by Lord Voldemort.

Invisibility can be both blessing and curse. It can hurt to be ignored by others because everyone wants to feel important, to feel recognized. I sometimes get annoyed or hurt by my kids’ seeming indifference. But invisibility can also be a gift, wherein one can be a spectator in life, observing, noticing, and learning.

I’m keeping my invisibility cloak handy for that next chance to gain insight into the world of my teens and their friends. Who knows what fascinations I may find?

Getting It Right

Since I’ve written in the past about pre-teen angst, it’s only fair to share when things go right.

This morning was a comedy of errors as my thirteen-year-old tried to shoulder a huge, heavy backpack while carrying her lunch bag and saxophone in each hand. It was still dark out but time for early morning band practice.

As the car glided through the quiet suburban streets, I told my daughter that the size and weight of her backpack reminded me of Cheryl Strayed, the woman portrayed by Reese Witherspoon in the movie Wild, who hiked the Pacific Coast Trail by herself.

It had been a three-day weekend, and I said to my daughter, “You know, you might not believe it, but I’m kind of sad – ”

She cut in, in a mimic of my voice, “You’d think I’d be tap dancing to have you all gone, but no. Back to school, back to work, back to responsibilities.”

“You always say that, Mom,” she explained, as I chuckled at how perfectly she had nailed my way of speaking.

“But aren’t you glad I feel that way?” I asked her.

“Yeah, but you said it after Thanksgiving, you said it after Christmas, now Martin Luther King Day.”

We both giggled. I can be something of a broken record, a trait that only worsens as I get older.

As my daughter struggled her way out of the car, hoisting that horrible backpack, I called, “Bye, Reese Witherspoon!”

She laughed and closed the car door.

As I pulled away from the curb, I smiled, reflecting that in the realm of parenting my teenager, sometimes we get it right.