(If you missed part one yesterday, click here.)
The second tale that came to mind as I was speaking with the Mom of a high schooler last week…
I went on a Saturday morning to pick up my just-turned-sixteen-year-old twins (boy/girl) at a sleepover in another town. The kids got acquainted through mutual high school athletes and I met the parents a few times socially at their house, had them at ours, as well as small talk in hockey arenas.
Mom in particular tried cringingly hard to be one of the girls instead of a parent. So, before I agreed to a sleepover, I did due diligence asking around about the family since they lived in another town. A woman I worked with for years at the college had vacationed with them and said overall, they were responsible parents.
Mom and I agreed her two and mine would have an overnight.
When I stood at the foyer to pick up the kids, I noticed a steady stream of hunky young men and adorable young ladies pouring out of their basement. I asked Mom what happened to the confirmed plan. And, then I asked if they all slept together…
She laughed joyfully that the kids needed to get loose and have some fun. There were 18 hormone-fueled boys and girls sleeping in a finished basement with a couple side rooms, a full-stocked bar, cell phones and multiple televisions. She added, ‘kids should drink at home’.
That’s cool. For your kids. Not mine. At sixteen, in your house, with alcohol-filled, hormone-raging bodies severely clouding any rational thought at 3am. I promise… I said these things to Mom much more tactfully that I’m sharing them here.
She must’ve thought about our conversation and called me later that night. She wanted me to know her children were on the honor roll and she was a good Mom. I quickly assured her I did not question either one. My sole focus was on the decision to pile boys and girls into the same overnight space, and provide alcohol without supervision.
She said, ‘I went downstairs once but left them alone after eleven. They are good kids and will make the right choices.’ We’ve all been teenagers and I’ll speak for myself: I was not making right choices all of the time.
I also accepted partial responsibility since I didn’t ask questions at drop off, making sweeping assumptions that the plan was the same as we discussed previously.
She strangely emphasized that all of our children were honor students. I explained that scholastic achievement has zero effect on 3am decision-making. Good kids aren’t thinking about long-term consequences when scantily clad girls and hot shot hockey players are given free reign.
We hung up, agreeing to disagree.
The phone call confirmed my intuition that she saw nothing wrong. I announced to my family that continued friendship would be at our place or a public location. This was not well-received and I did a few rounds with my twins and even my husband over that particular household.
My kids and hers soon lost touch and I hadn’t thought of her since. Until sadly we learned that Mom was arrested in her home for serving minors. Soon after, the family imploded in other heartbreaking ways.
This story is not shared with even a shred of arrogance or superiority. No parent is perfect all of the time, myself included.
This is about parenting instincts and following them – even when it makes you wildly unpopular.
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Tales from a Mid-Lifer 
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