10 May 2012

This PSA Brought to You By Two

Two and I are having trust issues.

A few months ago I picked him up from a friend's house and he smelled faintly of alcohol. I didn't initially trust my nose, though, because I haven't had a drink in twenty-four years, and I'm not often around people who are drinking. The next day I mentioned it in passing and he accidentally admitted that he and his friends had been playing beer pong. I gave him my speech about drinking, which touches on these key points:

When you drink at someone's house and the adult is not there, you place the adult at risk of losing said home, because it is illegal for minors to drink.

Teenage brains are still growing. Alcohol affects the teenage brain differently than the adult brain.  This is dangerous.

Alcohol compromises everyone's ability to make smart decisions. This is not safe, especially for teenage boys, whose bodies are already a seething cauldron of mind-jumbling  hormones.

Again, it is illegal for minors to drink, and the police are not forgiving. An arrest compromises your future.

Three weeks later, he called me from the woods. He was supposed to be at a friend's house.

"Don't get mad, but we need you to come get us. Seven is sick."

I have told the boys I will always get them no matter where they are, or what they've been doing, so I drove to the edge of the woods. Two was there with five friends, all in various stages of inebriation. I had brought paper towels and plastic bags, which Seven promptly put to good use. The friends had made plans to sleep at Seven's house, because his mother is a night-duty nurse and wasn't home. I quickly informed them that wouldn't be happening, and told them all to start figuring out how they were getting back to their houses. Because they had all been drinking, this freaked them out a bit.

I got home, brought Seven inside, and put him to bed with a garbage can beside him. The Captain volunteered to drive the other knuckleheads home. The next morning I texted Seven's mother and told her what had happened, and informed Two he wouldn't be sleeping over anyone's house ever again. He asked what he would have to do to get us to trust him, and I told him I would know when it happened.

Three weeks ago, Two wanted to go for a bike ride with his friend. We had two functioning bikes in the garage, one of which had spotty brakes that we fixed on the spot. He took off down our hill with his friend, and the brakes failed as he turned the corner. He ran into the back of the friend's bike and flipped over the handlebars onto the street. He showed up in the driveway ten minutes later with his shirt and arm shredded. If you are squeamish, look away. If you would like to warn your teenagers about being reckless, feel free to share these photos.



 Plus a  puncture wound for added flavor.

Even after a week of awesome burn cream from the doctor, he still looked like this:



He told me it was a good thing he was wearing his helmet, because he fell right on his head. Except...late the next day he asked how mad I'd be if he hadn't been wearing his helmet. I then gave him my speech on honesty, which touched on these key points:

If you tell me you were wearing a helmet, I assume your head was protected. If I knew it wasn't, I would have taken you to a hospital. You could have had a closed-brain injury, or a bleed, and I would have found your cold, lifeless body the next day. Lying to me places you in jeopardy.

Similarly, if you tell me you are going to be at point A, and you are, in fact, at point Q, then I don't know how to find you in case of an emergency. And don't tell me you have your phone, because you only answer it fifty-percent of the time. Lying to me places you in jeopardy.

If you were wondering what you had to do to gain my trust, the answer is: Not that.

Two is still recovering from his concussion.

Why are they so stupid?



26 comments:

  1. To clarify, was the concussion from the force the glare you leveled at him when he admitted he hadn't been wearing his helmet?

    Teenagers ARE invincible, right? So ultimately their actions have no true consequences. (Cough, cough.)

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    1. I did manage to scare him with the possibility of traumatic brain injury, but I'm sure he forgot about it after a few days. Not because of the concussion, but just because they forget everything I tell them.

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  2. If I pulled a stunt or two or three like that as a teen, the concussion wouldn't be from the bike crash. It would be from my mother whacking me with something. I *still* might not be able to sit down. I'd say you're coping very well. FGBVs that you all survive the teen years.

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    1. My mother preferred a wooden spoon. I could threaten physical violence, but he's SOOO much larger than me now, it probably wouldn't be convincing.

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  3. I have to say that judging by my daughters, it's not only boys who do stupid things like that in their teens.

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    1. I would agree, having been a reckless teenager once.

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  4. I don't know. I was just as stupid. My own three were only partially as stupid. One of them (the cop, now) was VERY not-stupid. Neither was his father. There is no explaining these things. You are doing THE BEST JOB EVER with these boys! Seriously.

    The scars will (hopefully!!!) be excellent reminders. Mine were.

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    1. Most days I'm happy he isn't getting into as much trouble as I was at his age. But other times he scares the shit out of me, because who knows how many chances he'll get?

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  5. I maintain that there is a special god who watches out for stupid nineteen year old girls based on my own dumb choices so I expect it's no different for boys.

    And my first thought was, good on the Lone Woman for making sure the kids know she will always come get them home safely. Even if you seethe and want to tear out your hair.

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    1. It must be the same god who watches over drunks and babies, as my mother used to say. I was an exceedingly stupid nineteen year-old, who kept that god very busy.

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  6. That's some nice road rash, there. I'd like to be able to offer you some words of wisdom, but I have scars from having gotten into a fistfight right after a three-week burn stint at the hospital when I was nine. I'm afraid it took me another twelve years or so to brighten up. I've got nothing.

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    1. I would like that girl to be in your next book. I want to meet her.

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  7. I love, love, love " a seething cauldron of mind-jumbling hormones." I would say it's testosterone poisoning, but that's not always true. Sometimes it's sheer teen-age stupidity, sometimes it's just one instance of it, I don't know. My boy child is 12 and while very bright, he can be quite impulsive and I'm scared. I'm already warning him of the dangers of doing without thinking.

    And you get major good parenting points for making sure they know you will come pick them up if necessary. We've been all over that one as well.

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    1. My never-ending phrase loop is "we can fix anything as long as you're alive." We had a tragedy in our town a few years ago when a 21 year-old boy drove away after being stopped by the police. When he stopped again, the officer reached in to take the keys from the ignition, the boy drove off the road toward a house, and the officer, who I believe had never used his weapon in sixteen years on the force, shot and killed him.

      Hence the fear of recklessness, and the continuous reminders.

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  8. Great speeches. Let's hope the concussion didn't knock them out of his hormone-addled brain :-)

    Hang in there, Babe. You're doing a remarkable job. Five boys. OY.

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    1. The next pictures I post will be of my rapidly growing grey hair.

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  9. Raising teenagers to the age of moderate reason is quite a challenge. As Carrie points out, you are fighting against a whole truckload of false invincibility and short term thinking. I wish I had a bright idea. Hang in there! You and the Captain are doing great.

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    1. When does one reach the age of moderate reason? Twenty-five?

      The most frustrating aspect is that I'VE ALREADY LIVED THIS LIFE, which counts for squat with teenagers.

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  10. I'm no doctor, but I've watched a lot of actors play one on television, and I'm pretty sure the wounds are actually secondary conditions to the primary condition of Dumbassitis. It's most often diagnosed in teenagers though it can occur spontaneously at any age. Symptoms include feelings of invincibility, enlarged ego, auditory dysfunction when presented with reason, and the ability to justify any sort of action to oneself though not necessarily to others - particularly primary caregivers. There is no cure though severity of the condition may decrease with the passage of time. With proper treatment, helmets, bubble wrap, and stern talking-tos, the prognosis is good for a long and healthy life. However the toll on primary caregivers is high and may require healthy doses of alone time and deep breathing.

    Clearly, he knows he is loved and cared for and in a tough spot he showed good judgment by calling you. And he trusted you enough to help. That says A LOT.

    PS You're Marvelous!

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    1. I'm surprised that Dumbassitis doesn't get more funding. It's so wide-spread a condition, you'd think the scientists would be searching for a cure!

      I hope he continues to call when he or his friends are in a jam, but not when the jam is that they told me they had a ride home from the movies, but suddenly no one's parent is available at one a.m. except me. I still struggle with those calls, but I'm trying. Really.

      P.S.: You're Magnificent!

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  11. Wise mother, Megan.

    Remember those days very well. I was known to drive the streets looking for son 1 or 2. Then I came to my senses or they did. Unfortunately accidents will happen even when son is married, wears a helmet, bought a really good bike only to ride down a mountain (a freaking mountain, yes, I know it says a "Mountain Bike"), hit a tree root....ended up with a U shape pedal scar on his thigh, very close to very important parts, and layers of skin missing. I sympathize, really, I do.

    Your poor son looks so sore. He is young and will heal. You and the Captain are excellent parents. I raise my coffee cup to you both.

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    1. And I will drink my coffee in return! Because, you know, I can't drink vodka.

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  12. Tell me, was this discussed: "We had two functioning bikes in the garage, one of which had spotty brakes that we fixed on the spot. He took off down our hill with his friend, and the brakes failed as he turned the corner."

    I get that he was dumb, and his two dumb sessions make for a nice discussion/post on trust. But I do believe Two might have some things to say too.

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    1. Oh, I'm not saying he was dumb for riding the bike with the spotty brakes-that was all of our fault. He was wrong for lying to me about the helmet. If I had known he wasn't wearing the helmet, I would have taken him right to the E.R. Brains are not to be trifled with, whether you're filling them with alcohol or knocking them against concrete.

      I'm always willing to listen to Two. I encourage discussion, and I actually think I'm fairly sympathetic. I just don't like when he lies, because I do love him after all, and want him to be safe.

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  13. Well, as you say yourself in this post, the teenage brain is still growing. There's no way from childhood to adulthood than right through the muck of Super Growing Brain! FGBVs in the meantime, for yours' and the Cpt's sanity.

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    1. There was a great article in National Geographic a few months ago about the teenage brain which explained the reasons behind the behavior. And yet...it doesn't make it any easier for us to live through it (and I mean him, too!)

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Thanks for reading! Unlike other Diaries, this one isn't private. Feel free to share your thoughts. Politely, of course.