By BERN MORLEY
It has started. Boys.
Maddie, aged 13, has been invited to attend, through Facebook, an event named ‘The Lad’s Party’. Yeah, no, that won’t be happening.
After looking crestfallen and stomping out of the room after being denied attendance, she reluctantly emerged from her room some hours later to tell me that the soiree was “cancelled anyway.” Apparently the boys discovered that they needed their parents’ permission BEFORE they started inviting the entire student population around for a riot party.
I was relieved of course. I mean, I remember the lies I had told my mother to get to certain parties at that age, knowing full well she’d never let me go, so I was mindful of denying her lest she try other avenues. This, however, did at least give me some time to regroup and get ready for the further requests to party.
And I’ve met these boys, these ‘lads’. They’ve got their hair so coiffed they could cut you if you got too close and appear to use more hair product than I did in 1988.
All in all though, they seem respectful enough, calling me Mrs Morley and looking me in the eye as they shake my hand. Granted, these are all great signs — but I remember being able to pull off the innocent and reliable young lady shtick back in the day also.
Yet, if I say no to every invite that involves boys, will I be just be becoming my own mother, who although in hindsight had my best interests at heart, denying me access to any male festive activity, made me desperately unpopular and seemingly forever further away from the boy I had a debilitating crush on? Am I denying her a teenage rite of passage and making her the one thing I always swore I’d never make her – different?
And what am I worried about anyway? What’s the worst that can happen to a 13-year-old young lady at an event that will more than likely involve alcohol, randy boys and little supervision? I’m just being overprotective, right? No, see I don’t think so.
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Top Comments
My mum handled this really well. She was strict but fair and we did (mostly) as told.
1. I wasn't allowed to go to parties 'til I was 14.
2. I wasn't allowed to go to any parties or shindigs without trusted parents there. Parents she knew and trusted - as there are always parents who will lie to other parents (I had a few friends whose parents did that).
3. No cabs or public transport until I was 16. I had to be dropped off and picked up by my parents, older sister, or a trusted parent. I could always call my parents if I was stuck.
4. I didn't have a set curfew but I had to be home at a reasonable hour, and text my mum the minute it hit 12 to tell her when I was likely to be home. This is an important one. A parent of an older child told my mum that she'd learned this the hard way. If you have a strict curfew, your child could be trying to get home by themselves when everyone else is staying. You're better off letting them come home a bit later in the safety of a group.
5. Ostensibly I wasn't allowed to drink, although my mum knew I was (even though I thought I was being soooo sneaky!) But I had a healthy fear of her finding me out so kept it reasonably under control.
6. Exactly that, instill a healthy fear in your kids, so that if you need to say no, they respect it! Similarly, I didn't defy my mum because I knew the reason she said no was because the worrying would destroy her. I didn't want to put her through that. She was fair so if she said no, or come home, I obeyed. Explain your decision process.
7. Recognise the difference between trustworthy male friends and skeevy boys who want to use and abuse your daughter. My mum was a teacher and was pretty good at spotting the difference. Different rules for different boys.
8. If you're uncertain, sometimes letting them go will actually put them off it, and they won't keep building it up in their heads. I desperately wanted to go to an underage dance party when I was 15. My friends were all going. We were at one girl's house, ready to go, when one of the girls' parents rang up and said she could no longer go because they'd heard there were drug busts at these events. They rang my mum and told her too. She ended up letting me go, but she and my Dad secretly drove to the venue and sat outside from when I went in, 'til the moment I came back out again. The next day I told her I thought the guys were skeevy and didn't want to go again. I made that decision by myself. She didn't confess what they'd done til I was about 27. It was hilarious!
9. Keep them busy! I did so many extra activities and sports that it balanced out my social life quite well.
My friend's daughter is 27 and recently told her mum: "You know all those parties I wanted to go to when I was 14 and you wouldn't let me go and I said I hated you? You were right, Mum."
This is a lovely young woman who was neither the coolest not the uncoolest girl at school: a normal kid, in fact.
Refusing them permission to go to certain parties doesn't always mean they make bad choices later or that they are "left out". Often they're secretly relieved - as I was - that Mum and Dad said "no".
And this age isn't always a problem either. My kids are late teens and we seem to have navigated the early teens period OK. One son is not interested in parties or even alcohol, particularly. His twin is but mostly hangs out with kids from youth group who are only interested in good, clean, legal fun. My daughter has a lovely group of friends (male and female) and only go to low-key, supervised parties where no alcohol is available.
Think ahead by all means but don't meet trouble until you come to it.