Talking to your kids about drugs

I’m a mom to three little humans.  The first little human really got a bad deal.  He got “practice parents”.  Good God, we had no clue.  So for Human #2 and Human B we decided to try something different.  You know how a company has a mission statement, ours might read something like this:  Our ultimate goal is to turn out for the world, young adults that are intelligent, possess common sense and the ability to form their own opinions, and act with kindness towards others.  That sounds so much more sophisticated than “There are too many fucking idiots!”  Whenever Human #2 or B would ask for anything, the answer they were given pretty much reflected their current progress in our mission.  Humans who are doing well in school and have clean bedrooms would be granted permission to do most everything.  Humans who ignored my subtle requests to bathe and change their socks (I swear to God, your feet are going to make me hurl, and I will not be cleaning it up, You Will!) were told to attend to their duties and ask again later.

They were also given our blanket permission to use whatever language they wanted at home.  I wanted them to know that this was their safe place.  It would no longer be necessary to tiptoe around or hush a friend when they uttered a colorful word.  This new practice led to them pushing conversation topic boundries.  My humans think it’s fun to badger me and fill my brain with pointless babble, probably because it drives me insane and I’m forced to hide in my bathroom.

Which brings us to a conversation about marijuana.  I was driving to town with Human B riding shotgun and Human #2 was in the backseat with our neighbors’ little human (the one she was so clearly flirting with but when asked would say omg mom i can have boys who are just friends duh).  Human #2’s boy had smoked illegal herbs on a “few occassions” and up to that point, I was unsure if #2 had crossed that particular line.  #2 asked if I had ever partaken (already knowing I had).  I believe she was trying to get me to say it was perfectly okay to be stoned 24/7.  “I know you and dad have smoked pot before and you guys are fine.”    “You’re right, sweetie, we have.  And look at us now: nearing 40 and living in a trailerhouse in Oil Country North Dakota.”

The shocked look on her face would have been enough for me, but when she turned to the boy and said “I am never doing drugs again.”, 2 points for mom.

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