Underage Drinking

Dear 4 Moms,

I recently arrived home from work to find my 19 year old son with his feet up casually drinking a beer. When I tried to calmly address this with him, he used the excuse of having a tough day at work. He just moved back from college two weeks ago and began working for a landscape company. He believes that because he is working and behaving as an adult, why shouldn't he be able to have a cold one if he wants to. As our conversation turned to argument and I started to lose my cool and composure, he laughed at me and told me how cute I am when I am angry. Any advice on how to handle this?

Signed,
Tracey

Audrey replies:

Hi Tracy,
I won't answer your question directly, instead I'll talk about my own experience.

Early in his college career, my son came home for a weekend to help me with heavy yard work. I like to think that he and I have a good relationship and that he feels he can talk to me about pretty much anything he needs to without fear of censure or withdrawal on my part. He'd already told me about being arrested for graffiti and my reaction had been to ask if they were using electronic fingerprinting now, as opposed to back when I was arrested, for civil disobedience, in the 70s. I listened calmly while he described being in New York City's central holding overnight. See, I'm a groovy mom.

During that same conversation, I also took it upon myself to ask him if he'd tried various drugs, other than pot, which I knew he smoked. We had pretty educational (at least for me) conversation about that subject. I was proud of my open-minded accessibility, I can tell you.

Then he came home. I had bought a small chain saw and was wearing gloves, safety glasses, and jeans whenever I used it. My son laughed at all that stuff (see previous “Helmet Wars” post) and wouldn't use it. I didn't make him.

That night he went out with some friends. The next morning, when I got up to go to work, I found a cigarette butt on my kitchen floor. There went the “groovy” mom. Now, you've got to know 3 things: I'd just bought my little bungalow all by myself, the kitchen floor is carpeted (came with the house), and I am a runner and a singer and I despise cigarettes. I saw that butt and went ballistic. It was about 5 am and I'd heard my son come home around 2. Well, he was going to lose some beauty sleep.
I knocked on his door and when I heard the sleepy, “Come in.” I went in, stood over his bed, and yelled like I've never yelled before. Really, my kids know where I stand on things, but I'm not a yeller.
In no uncertain terms, I allowed myself to tell him how disappointed I was with his behavior, I expressed my anger at his callousness about fire and the risk to my property, and most importantly, my fear at the idea of him being a smoker. If it sounds like I spoke politely, let me correct that impression. I didn't.

A few days later, I was at the therapist who was helping me process my fairly recent divorce. I told him the whole story I've just related to you and he said, “Well, he pushed and pushed, and finally got your attention didn't he?” Duh! I felt the proverbial lightbulb go off above my head. I was relearning that old lesson, ie, my son does not need me to be a friend, he needs me to be his mom. At that point, with the divorce, adjusting to college, the move to a house he hadn't grown up in, my son needed to know that at least one thing hadn't changed; he needed to know that I was who I had always been, his mom.

Tracy, look at your son's flagrant behavior, his language. Think about when he was 2 or 3 and would act badly and then glance over at you to make sure you were looking. The saddest children I've seen are those whose parents want to be their friends. Our growing sons desparately need us to be moms, even if they'd deny it with every breath. We cannot control or shelter them but we can let them know what we believe and were we stand. We can, we should, they want us to.

Kathy responds:

Wow! I dread this day and I know that as the mother of 4 sons, it is going to come. My husband is a big fan of beer, not to excess, but does enjoy it after a long day. Okay, sometimes short days too. So, my kids have seen this behavior. We also have alcoholism in our family, which makes us very cognizant of setting an example of responsible drinking behavior. I write this the morning after 2 glasses of wine during dinner with my husband, which I am thinking might have been one too many for me. :-)

I am learning as I get older that when I don’t know how to respond, or am aware I am going to respond badly, to step away for a minute and regroup. This helps me to be less emotional and hopefully clear speaking and rational. The conversation I would hope to have would start out sympathetic. You are working really hard, it’s tough I know. Then I would let him know how proud I am of that behavior, his responsible attitude and the path he is taking toward becoming a responsible adult. Then, you drop the bomb. He is not a responsible adult yet. Responsible adults don’t live with their mommy. They don’t break the law, which he is doing by drinking underage. (Correct? Is it still 21?) Responsible adults honor their parents, and aren’t disrespectful by breaking the law in their mother’s house and telling her she is cute when she is angry.

Next, lay out the consequence for that behavior. I don’t know what that would be in your family, but I am assuming he is somewhat dependent on you for something other than shelter. Maybe this time he gets a free pass, as your expectations weren’t discussed prior to this incident, but now he knows. So how will you handle this going forward, and are you prepared to follow thru? You are still the Mom, no matter how old the kid is. It is your job to point out bad behavior and help your kids get thru it. You also have the right to be respected throughout that process. You won’t get that respect if you don’t do your job well.

Rachel chimes in:

Lately there have been a rash of deaths here in RI associated with underage drinking. In many of the cases, parents were either directly involved in supplying the alcohol, or they willingly turned a blind eye and allowed the kids to drink in the house. As parents, we have to be very clear about our position on this issue. It really is a matter of life or death. And while I don’t think Tracey’s son is going to get hurt having one beer, it is clear that he doesn’t take Tracey or the situation seriously. I agree with Audrey and Kathy that it is time to set very clear boundaries.

Letting Go

Audrey writes:

Last month, when my dear 25 year old daughter didn't respond to 2 or 3 phone calls over the course of 3 or 4 days, I got anxious. It doesn't make any sense. She's terrifically competent, widely traveled, and was in the Peace Corps for 2 years. She can take care of herself. And between law school, work, volunteering, and a rich social life, she's pretty busy. Still, after not hearing from her, my mommy brain kicked in. It was obvious to me that she was dead. Yes, I'm going to use that word.

When she first got her driving license and negelected to honor our agreement that she would call me when she'd reached her destination, I explained my “reasoning”,
“When I don't hear from you, I'm not thinking, gee, she's stopped to talk to friends, or she's just forgotten. No, I'm thinking:
SHE IS DEAD IN A DITCH!!!!”

I think that this over-the-top behavior is a vestigial primitive glitch that comes with your baby's birth. That baby's birth also brings the frightening realisation that we cannot always protect our children from this vast, dangerous world. This sense of helplessness can be taken way too far. At the nursery schools where I work, it is not the children who have separation anxiety, it is definitely the moms. Moms who come back for one more hug after the child is busy with her friends, moms who won't leave the classroom at all.

When my daughter left for the Peace Corps, after having already been away at college, there were folks in my town, including a couple of her high school teachers who said, “How can you let her go so far?” I didn't respond by saying that I thought her leaving was preferable to an alternate situation I've seen way too often; having one's child, his lover, and their baby living in one's basement.

Yes, letting go hurts. Yes, I cry. My son just graduated college and is living in New York City. My daughter just bought a scooter (and helmet) to commute to school and work. I miss both of my children and I understand that I need to stretch myself to cope with their widening horizons.
Me? I've just started a blog.


Kathy replies:

While Audrey was watching her son graduate from college, I was DC with my teenage sons. We were there to watch the younger one compete in a national competition, but decided to spend some time looking at colleges for the older one.

This is my first experience with this, and I’d like to think I handled it well. But on the inside, I was frantic. He wants to be in a city, he wants to travel abroad, DC is so far away! Of course I want all these things for him. I don’t know any boy more capable of handling it than him. But what if something like 9/11 happens again- we need to have a plan for him. I though about that all weekend, which kept me from thinking about the bigger issue. He will eventually leave, they all will. I can’t even think about it, without being reduced to tears. He is my first of four, and I can’t imagine not seeing him everyday. I can’t imagine going days without speaking to each other. They are my whole world. Thank God I have 2 years to get used to the idea. But will I? Ever?

But it does beat the alternative, as Audrey pointed out. Isn’t this what we want? To raise independent responsible people who can take care of themselves; adults who are not dependent on their parents for food, shelter and clothing well into their 30’s!

Maybe we just want them to check in and let us know they are alright. Pretend that they still need us. If they do that, maybe letting go won’t be so hard.