I will try to sound intellectual as I write this. I will try to sound cool and calm. I will pretend that I am a hip understanding mom of a hormonal 15 yr old daughter. I will tell you I said all the right things. I will do all of these things in hopes that all of you know I am full of shit and totally freaking out right now.
I get home from work 6 hours early tonight to prepare for a long day in Toronto tomorrow with my girls. I need a good nights sleep. My teen is up at her computer, no surprise. I tell her I'm glad I am home early to send her to bed but know it's unlikely because she spent all damn day sleeping since coming home from a girlfriend's house at 11am. She sits on the chair next to me as I fire up my laptop. This seating arrangement is never good. When a teen leaves the computer to sit next to you, it's serious. And then she says.....
"I wasn't sure if I was going to tell you this but....."
One sentence. If I had one thought I had one thousand before she carried on. Sex? Drugs? Sex? Smoking? Drinking? Sex? My heart raced, I typed my password into the box to unlock my laptop and no matter how hard I tried, could not find it in me to look at her. "You're a lesbian?" I said jokingly, trying to keep the air light. Please say yes, I thought. I can handle a gay daughter. Hell, I'd pat her on the back if that were the case. Unfortunately I was her age not so long ago. (Hold back the laughter, I'm not in a joking mood right now!)
She spent last night drinking in the rain, sitting on a blanket in a backyard while her girlfriend's parents slept. First I was angry at the parents. Why the f*** isn't that shit locked up with teenagers in the house? Then I was glad it wasn't me being the ignorant parent sound asleep while someone else's daughter was getting drunk in my home. She said something about 3 shots of straight vodka, a shot of rum and a glass of white wine. My stomach tuned on the inside but I just sat there clicking links on my Google page looking rather unphased by what she was telling me. Then she got to the best part of the story....she puked....and puked.....and puked! Then came the promise to never drink again. I remember uttering those same words....just a few weeks ago.
I told her I was glad she chose to do it at a place where adults were around in case she needed them as opposed to walking the streets in a drunken stupor. I told her I was her age once, I knew this was coming. I told her vodka was the worst to drink straight, that her blurry vision and headache was called a hangover and that it was God's punishment for being so damn stupid. And I told her I was glad she puked and then took back the sympathy I gave her earlier about being all bruised up. I thought the bruises were from an intense cheerleading practice earlier in the day, she informed me that she remembered falling down in the bathroom, bedroom, living room and front porch. I seriously considered adding a bruise or two myself, but I didn't show it.
First and formost I would like to thank Belle who gave me the strength to pretend I am something I am not. Without her I would not have known how to appear calm in stressful situations. Without her I would not have known how to smile when I wanted to cry, whisper when I wanted to scream, hold a steady hand when my entire being was shaken to the core.
Thank you to the fellow nominees I find myself in company with. I am not so sure I deserved the oscar for "best supporting actress" any more than the rest of you so I accept it on behalf of all mothers out there who have survived parenthood. One last comment before I leave the stage....to those parents out there that let their kids live to see their 16th birthday........HOW THE F*** DID YOU DO IT?????
I am going to be honest here. Yes, I know she is 15. yes, I know teens do this sort of thing. Yes, I was 15 once too. But no, I was not prepared for it. I thought I was. I've played it out in my mind. But not any more prepared for this than I will be the day it turns to drugs or sex. I am so not cut out for this job. I didn't sign up for this shit and I'm not as fucking strong as everyone seems to think I am. And dammit.....where is her fucking father right now? She is ok. She is sound asleep in her bed. i know, I just checked on her. And there lay my baby. Am I crazy for wanting her to stay my baby? I hear other parents talk about this with their own children. They laugh, they somehow find it funny. I am truly sick over it and can't stop myself from crying. I am not ready for this. She is not ready. I am not ready.
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