So many other parents out there think that they know more than you do about your kid.
“I’ve got eyes in the back of my head,” is a favorite saying with parents everywhere. I have a different saying for my son.
“That’s just the mom super powers coming through.”
It never fails. I will be thinking about calling or texting my 17-year old and he ends up calling or texting me at the exact same time. It doesn’t always happen but it occurs more often than I’d like to admit. It sort of freaks me out to be honest but then again, who knows. Maybe it is the mom super powers coming out. Whatever it is, I’d like to think that I know my child well enough to know when he needs me or something is wrong. I’d also like to think that I know the type of person he has grown into. After all, I did instill my morals and values in him throughout his young life. Hopefully some of them stuck.
Getting to my point.
Prom is upon us here in our town and my son found a nice young girl and asked her to go with him. She said yes.
(Did you know that there is this whole “proposal” thing? Yeah. It’s almost as elaborate as proposing marriage!)
Amidst all the hoorah of the normal Prom things such as ordering a corsage, renting a tux and pulling together the money for a very nice dinner out beforehand and pictures at the event, there was something else that was nagging me.
Sex. Sex at Prom. Actually sex after Prom.
When I graduated nineteen years ago (God I’m getting old) most of my friends were having sex or at least pretty damn close to it. I was not one of them. I wasn’t a prude by any means, but I had grown up being taught that it was a special thing to share with someone. Not necessarily one that you waited for marriage for either.
Let’s face it. The majority of people have sex these days WAY before marriage. Even back then they did. My dad called it “shacking up”. Kudos to those of you who actually saved your hymens and first tumble in the sheets for your marriage. I seriously applaud you.
The media today portrays a vivid life full of sex and sexiness and condoms and lube and whatever else your little fantasy filled mind desires. I still can not believe that I can buy a personal massager right off the shelf at Walgreens. Yes. I stare with my mouth agape every single time I’m on that aisle buying tampons. It’s like I’m drawn to the fact that our lives are bathed in sex! Even while picking up your prescription for your blood pressure, you’re staring at it while you wait in line.
So it came as no surprise to me when my mom instincts kicked in while scribbling my thoughts and questions about the prom, that the sex talk made the list.
Gasp! Yes I was going to talk to my son about sex.
I’ll give you some background as to why I’m so non-chalant about this, even though my talk with him will be nothing short of serious.
I worked for the health department here in my city for two years. I was an STD nurse. I had patients come in for testing as young as twelve. Some were turned away for treatment because they were pregnant and that was out of our realm as a testing clinic. Some nights I went home stunned and sat through dinner wondering what the outcome of these young girls lives would be. Also the boys. My son came home in the 7th grade and told me that there were two pregnant girls in his class. In 8th grade, I had to run a booth at the local University here about STD’s. Texas Tech was doing a sex education seminar and I took my son. I pushed him into the throngs of other kids, a lot of them older, and told him to sit through the lectures. He did have a friend with him and before anyone gets upset, YES his mother and father knew what they would be subjected to.
I’ll never forget the look on both of their faces when they came to me after the event as I was packing up.
“Mom! That was the most disgusting thing I’ve ever had to do! I can’t believe you MADE me go to that! Did you know they showed pictures of a penis and vagina and showed us how to put a condom on?!” I tried to look a little shocked.
“Mrs. B! Look at all these condoms they gave us! These are gonna make great water balloons!” This one I totally smiled at.
Great. They were gonna fill these condoms with water and throw them at each other. Fine by me. Thier responses showed me that neither one of them had any ideas about using them for anything else. Certainly not what they were intended for. My son was disgusted and grossed out. His disdain for me at that moment for making him sit through a sex ed discussion was a monumental achievement in my eyes.
Fast forward to tomorrow. Friday. The day before prom. My son is no longer that disgusted little 14-year old. He’s a young man now. Complete with body hair, chin stubble, body odor and a date for prom. His date’s dress is so beautiful and when I posted a picture of it on my Facebook page one friend made the comment, “It’s going to be hard not to make you a grandma on prom night!”
You know, that comment didn’t make me mad. I laughed and replied something to the effect of, “Shut the fuck up and bite your tongue.”
What does make me angry are all the friends who message me and tell me how naive I am for thinking that he is not already having sex.
He’s not. I know he’s not. No he didn’t tell me he’s abstained from it, but I just know. He and I discuss a lot of things. Like, I already know he’s experimented with drinking and going to parties where drugs and alcohol abound. I’ve even had to pick him up at a party when the cops busted it and to be honest I was a little let down that I wasn’t invited, there was so much alcohol.
So tomorrow I will sit down with him and let him know that not that long ago I was his age (18 to be exact) when I found out I was pregnant with him, that I know the things that go through young kids mind’s and that I’m just concerned that he may find himself in a position where things get heated. He will know in his heart that he should wait and I know he probably will but I will hand him some condoms and let him know this:
This is not me giving you permission to go out and hump like rabbits tomorrow night or any other night for that matter. This IS me giving you the tools you need to be safe. Tools that compliment the values and morals you have been raised with. I give you complete freedom of choice tomorrow evening and do not expect you to write a book report on what happened. I do expect you to tell me what a fantastic time you had, dancing, eating and hanging out in fancy clothes with all of your friends AND I expect a few pictures.
Yes. I’m that mom. Not the naive mom who thinks her son does no wrong, but the mom that knows her son is growing up and that the World is a real place where personal massagers eyeball you from the tampon aisle and half-naked women shake their asses in TV commercials. It’s also a place of wonderment and excitement and a lot of other things besides sex.