More on Myspace – Ask Lessa edition!
So, my comment in answer to a question on the last Myspace Post became, well, a whole ‘nother post, so I thought I’d move it here, in case someone else had the same type of question, and would benefit from seeing the answer.
Avrum Nadigel said:
Parent’s have asked me how to ensure their kids aren’t creating alternative identities at their friend’s place… internet cafes, etc.
Any advice?
The other issue is that, regardless of prep, parents can’t control how other teens use their child’s info. It’s truly the Wild West out there.
My advice is what it always is – TALK to the kids. It’s hard to start now if they haven’t built a foundation already, but it’s better to start now then not at all, you know? Also, know your kids’ friends. Know their parents. And check THEIR profiles on occasion too. I’m lucky in that my kids’ friends all seem to like me alright, they call me mom, and my house -closest to their school- is the local gathering spot for their group. I make an effort to Scare get to know each of the newcomers that show up, make them feel welcome, and let them know that it wasn’t so long ago that I was a teenager (They swear I’ve the mind of a 16 year old boy, anyway!) and I know, remember, and understand.
Kids are going to rebel. BEFORE that happens, we need to have already gotten into their heads that they CAN come to us and talk. If you haven’t already, it’s going to be a rocky process, but that’s better then discovering your kids doing naked body shots at a bar downtown with a fake id in their back pocket – discovered because pictures are on their myspace profile.
It’s also important to TRUST your kids. You’ve spent all this time raising them, do you doubt you’ve done a good job? Have the kids given you reason to fret, or are you just driving yourself mad with ‘what if…’ scenarios just for kicks? We have to let them stretch their wings sometime. We have to trust that they’ve listened when it’s important.
If they abuse that trust, that’s another scenario all together… the minute they do, all bets are off.
As for what other kids do – we can’t control that. We really can’t. So working ourselves into a tizzy about it only drives us more insane and causes us more ulcers. Know your kids friends. Hell, know their enemies. Listen when they talk – to you, to their buddies in front of you. If we stop yelling and panicking long enough to HEAR what they’re saying, we’ll all be in a better position to protect them when they need it.
OMG.
Oh. My. GAWD. ya’ll.
I’m freaking out, but not really freaking out, but KINDA FREAKING OUT HERE. But not really. Not like I could stop the progression of time, right? It was bound to happen, and I couldn’t be happier for him, but still OMG YA’LL!
And ya’ll are like “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT WOMAN” aren’t ya? Yeah.
So, let’s have a MUSICAL INTERLUDE! See if you can infer what I’m currently NOT FREAKING OUT ABOUT AT ALL! Because it was BOUND to happen sooner or later. I can’t help it if my mama’s heart was still hoping for ‘later’…
Yeah. Time to check the expiration date on those condoms in the window, huh?
(Quickstats – she’s a co-worker, 18, 5’2″, curly hair, cute, bubbly, sweet and has liked him for MONTHS. Out of the blue, finally, with a little nudging from his BFF, he made a move. Clearly a move she’s been waiting for. and again. OMG YA’LL! And all this is kinda vague on purpose, since I didn’t exactly CLEAR this post with the kid. *L*)
The Secret Life…
….of the American Teenager. My daughter (14) is OBSESSED with this show. Ok, maybe not obsessed with Johnny Depp level obsessed, but obsessed none the less. She hasn’t missed an episode and also makes me DVR them for her BFF who’s been out of town. I must confess, I haven’t missed an episode either – and not just because she watches each of them several times. (Wait! Come back! I’ll explain! Maybe…)
I find myself oddly charmed by the whole cheese factor of the show. And it is VERY cheesy! It boasts family values, while dishing on teenage issues with extreme stereotypical character types. I mean, do we even have ‘homes for girls in that… predicament’ any longer? And each teenager is the extreme example of their stereotype – from the Christian Cheerleader, to the High School Jock, to the nerdy guy, the cool drummer, the slutty baton twirler, and the nosy gossipy friends.
The cheese factor is saved though by the lead, Shailene Woodley’s ability to let her emotions filter across her face. She can turn on the waterworks in ways my kids WISH they could, because it ups the sympathy factor.
The uber-Christian Cheerleader cracks me up, mostly because I went to a small Christian School and I’m pretty sure I met several versions of her during those years. Of course, the other cheerleaders were much like the baton twirler who adores sex. And if we’re being completely honest here (and when aren’t I?) I was a cheerleader too for a year. But I was neither extreme, and leaned more towards the innocent side, thank you very much. (Stop laughing!)
While I applaud the premise of the show, it’s done what we expected and drawn controversy due to their extreme pro-life standing, even as they discuss the possibilities of abortion and the like. Parents are upset that Amy turned to her friends first, but any parent of a teen knows that was one of the more realistic portions – no teen goes to their mom first. They go to their friends.
The most realistic part of the show is how fast the story got around the school. Unrealistic is expecting us to believe the time frame – just HOW pregnant IS Amy? One minute she’s showing already, the next she’s not so much, and they’re talking about abortion after she’s already showing and even skinny folks don’t start showing until 4-5 months which is second trimester and treading that fine line of yes it can happen and no it cant? However, the show did deliver one of the Best Lines Ever!
Amy: “I mean, it was only a couple of seconds, I’m not sure it really WAS sex, at least, until THIS happened…”
Best. Line. Ever.
Anyway, the little PSA at the end about talking to your kids is an important one – even if it, too, is cheesy as hell. I’ve never had much problem talking to my teenagers about sex and the consequences thereof. No, really! The conversation goes like this:
Me: (Singing, of course) Let’s talk about SEX baby… let’s talk about you and NO ONE ELSE EVER!
Teenagers: (Much rolling of eyes.)
Me: Alright. The first four words of EVERY conversation on this subject are….
Teenagers: (Rolling eyes, counting them off, mouthing along with me…)
Me: I WILL KILL YOU. Right. Rule number two about Fight Club?
Teenagers: oh GAWD mom. Seriously.
Me: RULE NUMBER TWO!
Teenagers: (Singsong) Condoms are not water balloons.
Me: And they are…
Teenagers: Above the kitchen sink in the basket.
Me: Because?
Teenagers: It drives Nana nuts.
Me: Um. uh. yeah, that too – but the OTHER reason?
Teenagers: (singsong) You’d rather have them there and not needed then needed and not there.
Me: And finally?
Teenagers: You keep count. We know. Can we go now?
Sure, we had the serious conversations first, I’m not completely insane. (What did I say about that laughing?) We don’t have to have them repeatedly though, and the above mostly happens in front of their friends. Because I’m the ‘cool mom’ and love to embarrass my kids – and the house rules apply to everyone, even friends. Also, I found out a long, long time ago that lessons taught with humor stick longer then lessons taught too large a dose of seriousness.
Mostly, I’m too young to be a grandma, heck – I’m too young to have two kids in high school! So I’d rather they think now, and know to protect themselves, before the petting gets to heavy and they forget to think at all. If watching The Secret Life of the American Teenager helps aid them in that thought process? I’m all for it, cheese factor be damned.
I know. Right?
People will PAY to read me talk shit about my kids, my teenagers in particular.
INORITE?!
Shocked me too. I even warned them. I’m TOTALLY not the ‘normal’ mom, but they were all WHOO! YES! WRITE FOR US HERE! So I was like ooooooooooooook. Fine.
For the best introduction to a blog EVER – click here. Come play with me! *g*
And you can also come play with me here, here, here, here, here AND here (will start posting there this week, may have a co-writer for it too. He does less snark, more research. heh.).
Never can have too much of Lessa, right? Right.
Hello there!
Welcome back to Parenting Teens Blog – I’m you’re new hostess with the mostest, Lessa. I thought I’d start my tenure with PTB by introducing myself to you all, and explaining a little of what you might find here. Sure, most folks would suggest I not scare you off right away, but I decided to take my chances anyway.
There’s a little about the author link over there on the right with my name on it, but the basics are that I am 38 years old, a widow, mother of three – two of whom are teenagers 16 and 14, plus the 9 year old. I am a stay at home mom, with several ‘other other other’ jobs that I use to help keep us afloat, while allowing me to spend as much time with my kids as I can stand – you know, at least 5 -10 minutes a day.
I suppose I should give you fair warning after that sentence, hm? I am not your ‘normal’ mom. That’s not to say that physically I’m any different than any other round, loud, busybody female who’s carried three babies to term and raise them for years afterwards while managing not to irrevocably harm them in the process – but in oh so many ways, I’m not what you’d expect when you think of “Mom”. The ways in which I am different from the oh so revered “Soccer Mom”? Here’s two ways, just to get you started.
1. My hair is usually blue. Or green. Or purple. Or red. Or bleached in a fiery pattern. Or anything, basically, then my normal and vaguely recollected dishwater blond.
It started back when my kids started making rumblings about coloring their hair. Rule in my house – no wild color until the kid is 12. That way they understand they’ll be pointed at, and are prepared. (The exception was for sports events, natch. I’m not completely heartless – unless you ask the kids. heh.) I discovered a love for the “Rogue Stripes” ala X-men, and then the kids took turns picking the color for those stripes. I don’t remember a time when my hair was it’s natural, god-given color, but I think it was sometime in my 20s. Did I mention I didn’t start the hair color until I turned 30? Yeah. Midlife crisis anyone?
(ETA – Full disclosure demands that I further blame the hair color – the FIRST round of blue – on my best friend in CA. He broke me oh so gently into the wild color schemes with a light blue wash that made people look twice during my first visit to CA. I decided I liked it. The rest – as they say – is history!)
2. I don’t give a flying f**k for the status quo.
Blunt? Yeah, probably, but it’s who I am. I don’t care how you raise your kids, as long as you don’t decide you have to dictate to me how to raise mine. I care that we work together to raise honest, hardworking, empathetic, talented, respectful kids, and I know that there are 18million different ways to achieve that goal. We can’t teach our kids respect, unless we show each other respect. As long as there is no harm to the child, no harm to the parents, and the end result is the same, why on earth should we quibble about the details? Opinions are like…. you know the rest.
The rest will likely come as we get to know one another and I take up posting regularly here at PTB. I might scare you, I might cause your blood pressure to rise, I might cause you to think. I am hoping that you will join in, comment, and cause all the same things to happen to me in return. All I ask is that we remain respectful of one another, and our kids, as we work together to raise the next generation the best way we know how.
Without ending up curled up in a corner in the fetal position, whimpering. Heh.
