I loaded another two boys off to High School this fall. The same curious phenomena I experienced with their older brother at this juncture, showed its disconcerting face. Namely the “communication black out.” Suddenly, all queries must be submitted in advance, and certain areas of interest were considered off limits.
These were my sweet babies that used to regale me with blow by blow descriptions of each and every moment of their day. I knew what everyone at their table had for lunch, who got a new haircut, the color of the teachers dress, and how they did on tests. Believe me, their daily accounts were usually less then scintillating copy. Yet I persevered, listening to every word. Ok, my mind would occasionally wander, but given the fact that they could transform a 300 word incident into a 3000 word filibuster, punctuated with the phrases “ummm, and then, “or “guess what happened next,” “and you know.” I thought I was holding up my end of the bargain pretty well.
Now, when the information I want is so much more interesting, I have discovered that I have lost my security clearance. Every morsel of Intel is carefully screened and edited before it reaches me. I have been put on a “need to know” basis only. Asking about a member of the opposite sex is like asking a post –menopausal woman her weight and age. Totally out of line!
It used to be, when they shied away from a question, I could use my infamous sucker punch line of inquiry, with amazing results. To those of you not familiar with this trick, I shall share my method. I would sit down with my child, and begin to ask a series of innocuous questions i.e.: did it rain at recess today? Did you have regular or chocolate milk at lunch? Was it any of your classmate’s birthdays today? Is anyone using drugs or alcohol? Just when they are lulled into complacency, you strike with the question you really want answered. Unfortunately this verbal game of Simon Says is no longer effective, as even innocuous questions must be submitted well in advance.
Sometimes I could shake out some information, by putting them under the hot lights, but at this age my offspring would make stellar POWs. No info is forthcoming.
What’s’ a concerned Mama bear to do? Why hop on board the Canary Express! This is a top secret group of mothers willing to share the valuable Intel, gained by driving carpools. You see, teenagers are blind to adults in their midst. Just like Jane Goodall, you must blend into the background, keeping quiet, and not startling your subjects. Then you listen, and the canaries begin to sing. It can be frustrating, as you really want to ask some in depth questions, as tales from teens emerge. However, you must resist, or your name will be Mrs. Nosey Pants, and the word will go out among the herd. Your effectiveness on the Canary Express will have been fatally compromised. All driving Moms must be willing to share the valuable data, and not be held accountable for any mis-information, or propaganda the canaries have sung. Additionally you must not shoot the messenger, when you find out that it was your own little darling that started the lunch time food fight.
I have been told by Moms whose children are grown and out of the house, that the lines of communication re-open sometime after college. This is probably because the freedom of information act kicks in. In the meantime call me Ms. Goodall.
