When Parenting Sucks

Sometimes parenting just sucks.


My son and I have this “arrangement”. The arrangement goes something like this: I pay the cell phone bill and because I pay the bill, I have access to take a quick glance at his text messages. Herein lies the conflict. He has been pre-emptively deleting his messages. Yeah. I know. Very naughty and sneaky. So the question at the top of mind is what is he hiding?

I don’t want to be one of those parents waltzing through life with blinders on, absolutely ignorant to the fact that their kid is throwing beer parties or into some other type of mischief. That said – I know my kid. He’s home every night, is currently pulling straight A’s and doesn’t spend time lolling about the mall unattended. So I’m guessing it’s a girl.

Regardless, it did prompt a very gross conversation which ended with tears. His not mine.

I get it. He doesn’t want his dorky mom reading his text messages. He wants privacy. I get that also. And I want to give him privacy. I really do. But I also need to make sure he is not getting bullied (or bullying) or receiving sext messages or sneaking beer out of the house. So I tried my best to reassure him that I have absolutely no interest in reading the minutiae of his conversations with his friends and that as a parent it’s my job to make sure he gets through the next 4 years as unscathed as possible. And other parents may not care what their teens are doing, but I do care and someday he’ll be glad. At which point he stomped upstairs to his room and slammed the door. Sigh. So much for open dialogue.

After about 20 minutes I made my way to him room where I essentially reiterated my position. He either gets on board with my cursory review of his text messages or the texting goes away. And as an editorial side note: I am discreet about it. When I do check he isn’t around and it really is just a quick glance. Trust me. None of these text conversations are particularly deep.

I take his sullen "I hate my mom" look and  stony silence as acceptance of the offer. And then I ask if there is a girl. No answer (whilst he intently stares at his iTouch screen). But I can tell he is fighting back a smile.

Ah. Mystery solved. Yes. Clearly a girl which I am sure will inspire content for another blog entry in the future.

P.S. I am happy to say that when I checked his phone recently texts had not been deleted. And the “I hate you mom” phase only lasted about an hour.