I blogged just a few weeks ago about a “Love Letter” that I wrote to Bay.  Our soon to be five year old daughter.  This love letter is a foreshadowing, for the future “talk” I will initiate before she is faced with the seedy underbelly of sex, boys, and the mystical art of saying “no,” all the while winning friends and influencing people. 

Just a few days ago, Tom and I sat down with a warm cup of coffee to watch the ‘Today Show’ and what we got was a crude cup of reality.  The segment was on TEEN sexting.  I was like, “HUH?”  And he was all, “Eh?”  And I was like, “What the hell?”  And he was all, “You’ve got to be shitting me?”  (No he wasn’t, he hardly swears.)

As the commentary was getting underway I say to Tom, “I just saw another segment where a PhD said it’s healthy for OUR demographic to sext each other.”  His reply, “Yeah?  Would it translate to us ever really doing it again?”  Me, “Very funny.  You know I had bad PMS, and now my period.  Come on, let’s watch.”

Daughters sit with their Mothers as the teens talk about sexting and they don’t think it’s unusual behavior or inappropriate for their age.  They comment how they don’t mull over the consequences, every one’s doing it they say, trusting that it won’t get around school, or all over the Internet.  In that voice of naiveté that teens have when they think, “It’ll never happen to me,” or “That’s only for the movies, or after schools specials.”  You know the kind, “Johnny don’t do that” or “Jenny eat something.”

As if I am not in enough shock, here comes the FULL MONTY.  The nacho supreme.  The Britney Spears naked head of them all!  (Or vagina, whatever.)  If a friend sends a sext message and a photo to your teen, your teen can now be registered as a sex offender.  YUP!  You read it right.  SEX OFFEDER.  REGISTERED.  Registered. Sex. Offender.  Picture this:  If your daughter’s fifteen year old friend, who is a boy, sends her a picture of his hot pecks, or his guns, Smith and Wesson, and she opens it and has the picture on her phone, WHAMO, she can be charged and registered as a child sex offender.  I hope that you are good friend’s with his mom and don’t piss her off.  Hope your daughter doesn’t down load it to the Internet and send it into cyber-space.  Hope his furious litigious attorney parents don’t sue.  How much liable damages are Smith and Wesson really worth?  Is it really humiliating?  Or is it really a huge promotion for Prom King?  If your daughter gets mad at him and photo shops his nipples and gives him man boobs, NOW THAT could be bad…I’m just sayin’.  It’s something to think about.  (My Dad’s career was insurance my entire life.  Re-insurance, where they insured insurance companies!  I can’t help BUT think like this.  It’s a curse!)

So, I was all proud of myself, writing the letter, thinking about the talk way ahead of time.  Now I have to traverse the land of technology, blind and bumping into walls.  Because this is something I never had growing up and I need a manual or a translating device.  I need an agent.  A mole.  Not necessarily someone to spy on our kids, but someone that can get me up to speed with the world today.  It’s hard enough to try and get your kids to do better than you did, and have them talk to you, the “you can tell me anything” bullshit.  Yeah right.  Like they’re really going to come home and say, “Hey Mom, I was really curious, soooo, I drank a fifth of vodka, snorted a line of coke, and fucked some slut.  It was great.  Just thought I should let you know. Gnight!”

Not only do we, “we” meaning parents, have to try to get our kids to not have sex by age 12, we have to try and keep our daughter from competing for the most blow jobs at a party, and now we get to make sure they don’t have “Pedophile” on their high school resume.  Honestly, how in the hell do you not become a “helicopter parent”?  It has so many meanings to me….Not only would I be on top of their shit all the time, I would be like a cop, putting them through HELL.

Ah, thank goodness for sweet dark chocolates and cold stiff martinis.