When my first born son was turning eleven it felt a lot like my turning thirty, scary and unbelievable. All those clichés: time goes by so fast, he grew up so quickly, where has my baby gone phrases assaulted my brain. There were a lot of questions on the table for this birthday. His wants were a lot different than they had been. He had grown up more in the last twelve months than he had since infancy. Physically, he was now exactly my height although he would daily stand too close and insist he could see the top of my head. There was an odor to him that came partly from a creeping attitude problem and from puberty. Puberty was coming down the block, I could sense it. I decided the problems of that maturity would not come to my house. I would block the peer pressure with education of my own; honesty, truth and consequence.
I began “privates are for private” and “don’t start using and you don’t have to try to stop” mantras when he was old enough to know what I was talking about. My husband and I agreed overnights at friends were only a recipe for trouble. We also thought that a cell phone was just an invitation to privacy he did not need, that is until texting.
My husband accepted a new job with new hours and new responsibilities that would sometimes make walking home a necessity. My stranger danger nightmare came to life and each day they walked I sped home. The few blocks they were alone seemed fraught with danger. There were no longer latchkey kids in our neighborhood, they were text-key kids. Afterschool they dug the cellphone out, you can’t have it on in school, and looked for messages from home. They texted their parents at work, no ringing to alert the boss, and then walked home. After entering the house they texted again to say all was well. A cell phone seemed to be my salvation. It was just one of the preteen supplies on his list.
Needing a new phone and having a contract expiration led us to a Verizon store. We took him there to pick out his own phone. His dimples appeared as he expressed his surprise.
“Now you have to be responsible with it,” his father lectured him on how not to lose it, break it or abuse the privilege. I added that I could easily take it away. We stressed it was for emergencies only and afterschool calls with us.
That was December. By March there was a full contact list and he had learned to text with abbreviations I could never understand. He had not lost it or abused the privilege but it had been taken away several times. I found the leverage awesome because putting someone who is slightly taller than you in time-out seemed ridiculous, but losing the phone, now, that was something. He seemed to have gained friends since this new method of communication was purchased. The phone was constantly in his hand.
Another interest was the computer and a website for kids to interact. I had gone on the site with him. I read the chats. I thought I had been so careful. After creating my own identity on the same site I found that Wee world was not for children. There were definitely older teens and adults on it. Videos were posted that I would have rather not seen. The chat with his school seemed harmless so I allowed this access only.
He could not have his phone in his room at bedtime. His friends, apparently had no bed time. It was this rule that revealed his level of trust and his preteen need to be everyone’s friend. Watching a taped Grey’s Anatomy and cursing Grey for falling for Derek’s nonsense yet again I was repeatedly interrupted by a distracting buzzing. After pausing the show and searching the kitchen I realized it was his phone.
There were too many texts to count as it vibrated in my hand. I scrolled through them. I imagined a school emergency that had prompted his friends to all text and call him at once. There was nothing wrong with the school. The area codes were not in Illinois and there were no texts from those on his contact list. I opened the latest text to find
I’m Sam. I can’t believe u gave out your phone number! Add me 2 ur friends list.
And another...
I can’t believe you posted ur #!
And another...
Y’d ya put ur # on the computer dude?
The computer chat seemed harmless enough until I learned he posted his cell phone number! All the internet stranger danger conversations were obviously not understood. Of course I said no personal information, no real names, towns, addresses, true I never said do not post your cell phone number . My bad
