“Hey Mom, I want to go to a party this Saturday…”
The first time I heard my teenage son say those words, we were driving to grab coffee as his eighth-grade year was winding down. Everything seemed perfect until the mention of “party” jolted me into high-alert mode. My mind raced with questions: Whose party? Where is it? Will the parents be present? Is there going to be alcohol?
Tuning out his chatter by increasing the volume of the radio, I tried to maintain my composure as I gripped the steering wheel tightly.
“Mom? The party?”
I pulled into a parking lot, turned off the engine, and faced him. Although my partner and I had made it clear that alcohol is for adults, we hadn’t explicitly discussed the details of underage drinking, making this the perfect moment to do so.
“Can you tell me more about this party?” I asked.
The host was a friend of a friend who had sent the invitation through social media. My son had no idea if the parents would be home, let alone the address. I battled the instinct to shut down the idea completely, especially as he argued that all his friends would be attending and he didn’t want to be the odd one out.
When he finished his defense, I asked the crucial question: “Is there going to be alcohol?”
He looked down, admitting, “Honestly, I’m not sure, but probably.”
That moment underscored a critical truth: at 13, my son was at an age where alcohol could come into play, yet he lacked the experience to navigate its implications. I often wish for a world where he wouldn’t encounter alcohol until he was fully mature, but I know that’s unrealistic. Teens will experiment, just as I did at his age.
As a parent, my responsibility is to provide him with the facts about alcohol and clarify my stance. While my words alone won’t stop him from drinking, I want him to be equipped with the knowledge to make safe, informed decisions. Ultimately, the choice is his.
I began with the basics: underage drinking is against the law for a reason. I made it clear that we will never be the parents who supply alcohol for him or his friends, nor will we allow them to drink in our home, even if we’re aware of it. This earned me an eye roll, signaling just how “uncool” I was in his eyes. Fine.
Next, I explained how excessive drinking can damage brain cells and is particularly harmful while his brain is still developing. I also warned that overindulging typically leads to vomiting and hangovers. Most importantly, I emphasized that being intoxicated severely impairs judgment, making decisions like getting into a car with a drunk driver or abandoning a friend at a party much more likely.
One of the most serious topics I raised was the connection between alcohol and assault. Being drunk doesn’t excuse anyone from violating another’s consent, but it can make it much more difficult for someone to resist or seek help in dangerous situations.
After sharing all of this, a heavy silence settled between us. I could see the worry etched on my son’s face, even as he tried to play it cool.
“What if I do drink, Mom? What if I get in trouble?”
In that moment, my heart ached for him. Growing up is challenging; learning to trust oneself takes time and experience. I’m in my 40s and still navigating my own lessons. What makes the journey easier is knowing there’s someone to lean on for support, even if it means facing consequences.
“If you ever find yourself in a tough spot, just call me. No matter what,” I reassured him, squeezing his hand. “And if you need to blame me, just say your crazy mom is texting and you need to leave.”
Of everything I communicated about drinking, this was the most significant message: I want my son to trust me while he learns to trust himself. Keeping the lines of communication open is our greatest victory.
“Thanks, Mom,” he said, a smile breaking through. “I guess I’ll think about whether I really want to go to this party.”
“Absolutely,” I replied, pleased that he was considering his options. “Let’s talk it over while enjoying some Frappuccinos.”