How an App and Peer Pressure Won Me the Mother of the Year Award

4 years ago

When The Kid was little, I was petrified that something would happen to my little girl, and she wouldn't know what to do.

I wanted to equip her for anything... bad touches, peer pressure, bullying, drugs, kidnapping. We played with dolls and acted things out, role-played scenes, and had mini-conversations. If it was suggested in a parenting magazine, I did it. Not obsessively, because I didn't want her to grow up to be a bigger freak than her DNA already assured she would be, but just enough that she would *hopefully* feel in control if something were to come up.

There she'd be innocently taking a bubble bath (yes, I know they cause UTIs in tiny humans, but apparently, my kid's urethra was super long...don't judge... there are worse parenting things going to happen later in this post), and I would casually ask her who has touched her little girl bits and we would talk about who was allowed to and who wasn't and what to do if someone tried to.

When she got older and she started school, we played out bullying scenarios and what to do or say if someone said something to her face.

We talked about what to do for peer pressure. For drugs. For alcohol. For cigarettes.

We would role play, and I would say something like, "Well, you're a chicken. Your parents will never find out. Do it!"

She'd respond, and we would talk about responses she could make.

We've not done it in a couple of years though.

The other day, it completely came back to bite me in the ass.

I have been consumed addicted playing a game called "Run with Friends." Sounds like I'd be healthy, right?

Ha. Ha. Hehe. Snort.

Um, no.

It's a game where you are thrust into the world of running the streets of Pamplona, Spain during the running of the bulls. Barrels inexplicably come flying at you; random hay bales litter the streets; and slow-running "friends" try to trip you up as bulls run behind you and straight at you as your character runs faster and faster down the winding streets. After your turn, your real life friends get to try their hand at the course and bragging rights ensue.

People, I'm going to say something here that shocks you.... I love this game more than Candy Crush.

There. I said it. And it's true.

I love this game.

I have tried to get The Kid interested in it. She's been reluctant. I, after much begging, finally got her to try it on my iPhone. She stunk.

Quickly, she gave me the phone back.

"I don't like that game," she said petulantly.

"Come on! It's great! Try it again," I offered.

"Nope," she steadfastly refused.

"It's good!" I said.

"Nope," The Kid replied.

We went back and forth like this for awhile, and I'm sad to admit, it ended with me making chicken noises and walking around the living room bobbing my head and flapping my "wings."

Not my finest moment as a parent, I know, but we both were laughing, because I am one AH-mazing chicken impersonator.

My Kid's response to the peer pressure, though?

"We've talked about this before, and you said that when someone is trying to pressure me and they make that sound, it's probably something that isn't wise for me to do, so no!"

Wow? I said that? I might be a good parent after all. Yea me!

She actually listened to me, internalized it, and used it? Go her!

I really wanted her to try the game again, so I begged her once more, "Just try it one time!"

"Peer pressure won't work on me! Back the heck up, mothertrucker!" she said proudly.

I kid you not, those were her exact words.

I just kind of blinked at her. She grinned.

"Did I teach you that?" I asked.


"Those exact words?" (Because let's face it, SOMETIMES, not often, I lack a filter between my head and my mouth.)

"Yep, those exact words, mom! Aren't you proud I remembered?"

Yeah. Yeah, I am.


I'm sure my Mother of the Year award is in the mail as we speak.

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