My Son Caught Me Making a Major Mistake. And He Never Lets Me Forget It.
Care and Feeding is Slate’s parenting advice column. Have a question for Care and Feeding? Submit it here or post it in the Slate Parenting Facebook group.
Dear Care and Feeding,
My son, C, is almost 10. When he was 4, I made the mistake of snorting a medication sometimes—an antidepressant. I’m embarrassed to admit that, but I was in pain at the time and have a history of drug use. I stopped drugs before I was a mom, but it was a big part of my life back then. C saw me snorting one time, though I didn’t know it. He later said, when lying in bed, “Mom I don’t want you to put those white things in your nose because they can’t come out and I don’t like them.” I was mortified, ashamed, everything. I said something like, “I promise that will never happen again, Mommy is OK.”
He has probably mentioned it three or four times between the ages 7 and 9, innocently, as in, “Remember you used to put white things in your nose?” It’s been almost a year now since he mentioned it. Since so much time had passed, I responded to the latest instance vaguely, like I didn’t know, and never admitted it. It was a very brief interaction. I don’t know what to do if he asks me again or ever tells anyone. I’m concerned with my relationship with him and potentially having to explain myself to anyone else. I keep thinking about him growing up and having trust issues with me or resenting me if I deny it once he’s older and connects the dots.
As a side note, I no longer do anything like that. His father was an addict who never met C, and C doesn’t know anything about this part of my past—and I never want him to. My now-husband knows I was involved in drugs years ago but doesn’t know about this incident. Help!
—Overly Worried Mom
Dear Worried,
First of all, congratulations on the steps you’ve taken to abstain from drug use. That isn’t easy, and it’s OK to give yourself grace for your slip-up six years ago. That said, you know that C saw you snorting and is old enough that he will start learning—either in school or from peers and pop culture—what drugs are. I think you are right to be concerned that he might feel lied to if you continue to deny what he saw. And as he heads into his preteen years, you’re going to want that bedrock of trust established between you both in case he gets into a tricky situation himself.
The next time it comes up, I would explain that it was medicine but that it was an inappropriate and potentially dangerous way to take it. Tell him flat out that you haven’t done it since, and you’re embarrassed and disappointed that you made that choice. Reinforce that using illegal drugs and using medicines inappropriately (something teens are very likely to encounter) is dangerous. Let him know he can ask you questions about what he saw, but that you’d prefer it stay as a private matter in the family. How much you describe beyond that is up to you.
Regarding your husband, I think generally that secrets fester and can be worse the longer they are hidden. And it seems to me that if you come clean to your son, you owe your partner the same. Still, I think you might want to go to a relationship counselor—one who has experience with substance use disorder cases—to get some professional advice on how to broach this subject, should you choose to do so. They can also advise you on how to talk to your son. Good luck!
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Dear Care and Feeding,
I was raised by a single mother and never knew my father. He moved away after I was born and wasn’t interested in knowing me. I looked him up during my freshman year of college, was unimpressed, and didn’t feel like I missed out much, although I do have some abandonment issues. I can’t ever remember wanting a dad, although I sometimes thought it would be cool to have a sister. When my mom married my stepdad and had a few more children, I was happy, but the novelty wore off quickly. I love them but often wonder what life would be like if it had stayed just my mom and me. I especially wonder if we’d have a closer relationship.
So, when I found myself single at 35 with a ticking biological clock, becoming a single parent didn’t seem daunting or unusual to me. I considered what life would be like without a father for my child, but I thought they would have an easier time than I did because they wouldn’t have had a father who didn’t want them; instead, they would know they were created because they had a parent who very, very much wanted them. I welcomed my son a couple of years later and all seemed fine. He is happy and we have a great bond.
The thing is, he will sometimes randomly say he wishes he had a dad. I’ve responded in all sorts of ways when he says this. It usually comes out of nowhere, typically when we’re in the car or hanging out quietly. I’ll ask him what made him think about that and ask about his feelings about it. I will sometimes lightly ask him what he would do with a daddy. Sometimes I listen to the answer, and other times I point out that we do all those things he mentions. Other times I will jokingly remind him that if he had a daddy, he’d have two adults telling him to brush his teeth and pick up his dirty socks. Finally, I always remind him that I wanted him so badly that I just couldn’t wait for a daddy any longer, so I brought him into the world by myself. Really, I don’t know how to respond. He knows his origin story. He usually seems happy, but I am heartbroken he feels a void where a dad should be. Is there a good response when he says this or are my responses OK?
—Just Mom, Not Dad
Dear Mom,
I don’t have the same lived experience, but I am a widow and mom to two young boys, so I know what it is like to have a child who is aware of an absence in their family. Even my youngest, who was only 2 when his dad passed (and thus not old enough to remember him), has made comments similar to your son. I imagine it’s something they are very aware of from seeing other parents at school drop off, in the stands at baseball games, on TV, etc. Rarely (though increasingly) are non-traditional family structures depicted in popular media, so it’s no wonder that our sons are reminded of a specific family role that is currently going unfilled.
I don’t know that there is a patented “right way” to talk about these kinds of absences. You seem generally on the right track to me, asking follow-up questions and reminding him of how loved and wanted he is. Though, I might avoid pointing out that you do all the things he would do with his dad—that can come across as dismissive and invalidating. As I was reflecting on your letter, I came across this blog post that discusses different listening strategies, such as validating and digging. It might give you some new vocabulary to use with your son. I was also reminded of the improv rule of “yes, and,” where you intentionally accept what your scene partner (or real-life friend, spouse, son, etc.) hands you and build on it. What might it look like to listen to your son and yes-and what he is saying? For example, if your son mentions that he wishes he had a dad so he could play catch in the yard, you might say, “Yes, and he might be a better thrower than me. I get why that would be nice.” Or, if your son just wants a dad to talk to about his day, you might say, “Yes, and that would give you one more person to go to for advice or help.” My guess is that he’d feel understood and accepted—and it would demonstrate to him that you aren’t threatened or hurt by his desire for this person in his life. After all, at its core, yes-and is just a communication strategy that embraces what you are told and reflects it back. I don’t think you can give your son a better gift than that.
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Dear Care and Feeding,
My mum is retiring in a few months and recently went on a walking holiday in Jordan. While there, she saw an immense amount of pollution in the form of plastic waste. The spectacle has left her feeling helpless about the state of the world, which I feel is compounded by her leaving work, where she has held a senior position for a long time.
My wife and I (and our new babies) will be there to help her with the transition, but this is the one area I’m stuck on. Personally, I think that while the situation is dire, there’s a lot we can do by addressing the behavior of corporations and governments, but that general sentiment can’t compete with the visual of mountains of bottles. My mum does listen to me with this kind of thing, but generalities just pass through her. Where do I turn for compelling evidence that this is a problem that can be meaningfully fought? My dad would have been amazing at framing this as an issue she can fight for (she already volunteers looking after the local area), but we lost him a few years ago.
—No Planet B
Dear No B,
Oof, as an environmental educator, I totally understand where your mom is coming from. If I’m interpreting your letter correctly, your mum is volunteering locally but is feeling like it’s a drop in the bucket against much larger forces. As I have written before, Fred Rogers said that in times of crisis, we should look for the helpers, but I’ve come to believe that being among the helpers can be just as reassuring.
Even though my day job is in environmental education, I’m plagued almost daily by the feeling that I should be doing more to fix the planet. But between work, my kids, and life’s daily tasks (not to mention this column!) I just don’t have the bandwidth. So, I am reassured when I hear about retirees jumping into political action and volunteerism because it reminds me that this problem isn’t up to just me to solve; there are members of my community who are stepping up, and one day it will be my turn to do so, too.
Getting directly involved in local stewardship activities is a great first step because even though it’s a small action, stewarding your own corner of the world can help reinforce your conservation identity and fuel you for bigger fights. So, I would encourage her to get involved with political action groups that are speaking out on the subject of plastics. From your use of the word “mum” and your letter’s original spelling of the word “behavior” I gather that you’re outside the United States. Without knowing your location I can’t offer you specific organizations to look at, but, here in the U.S., I love the work of Citizen’s Climate Lobby (though it’s not about plastics, they’re a great model to look at), and some zoos and aquariums have plastic pollution activism one can partake in. World Wildlife Foundation UK and Greenpeace have some activism efforts, as well. For a different spin, the League of Women Voters has an environmental platform; a similar political group abroad might as well. Organizations like these can give your mum the opportunity to engage in scaled action, and I think seeing it happen first-hand will be your best bet in helping her feel connected and grounded in the work.
Your letter suggests that your mum might be spiraling into a bit of environmental despair. She might find solace and validation in this blog post from the Zero-Waste Chef, who argues that incremental change is still meaningful. And above all, make sure she knows when she is most bummed out at the world, that it is OK to enjoy her grandkids and to live environmentally imperfectly. As I have (again) written before, joy is not the absence of despair; it is resistance to despair, and that can be a powerful talisman these days.
Dear Care and Feeding,
We’re three weeks into the school year, and my 2-year-old still cries every morning when I drop her off at nursery school. (She has been at this daycare for almost a year but moved to a new classroom at the beginning of September.) I have tried every piece of advice I’ve read. She brings a favorite stuffed animal and chooses a favorite outfit. We talk about the fun things she is going to do at school, and she knows that I will always come back to pick her up at the end of each day. Nothing has worked, and while the transition was rough for several kids in the first week, my daughter is the only one still getting so upset each morning. By the time I pick her up in the afternoon, she is playing contentedly, and her teachers say she usually calms down within 15 minutes of me leaving at the beginning of the day. On weekends, she talks excitedly about the other kids, and she sings songs and shows us dances that she has learned in class. But drop-offs continue to be miserable. How worried should I be? Do you have any other ideas?
—It Sucks for Both of Us
Dear Both,
It sure does suck for you both, and I wish I could tell you there was a magical remedy to make it stop. But if there is, it has eluded me.
I really do not think you need to be super worried. You can double-check with the teachers to see if there is a person or part of the day that she’s most resistant to, which could give you some clues as to how to tweak the morning. Maybe there is an “assignment” you can give her when she first arrives, like finding a friend to say good morning to, or washing her hands or something along those lines, which might disrupt the transition moment. But my guess is that she’s just going through a clingy phase of childhood. I would expect that someday soon (or soonish) it will start tapering off. For now, grin and bear it, knowing she is safe and happy at daycare, even if she tears your proverbial heart out at drop-off.
—Allison
My sister recently made the decision to medicate her 5-year-old daughter with Adderall. To give some background, my sister has mental health issues and has struggled with motherhood (she openly admits to this and has started therapy). There is very little structure, and the language she uses when talking to my niece is difficult to hear.
