To help celebrate my birthday, I went to visit my sister and brother-in-law in Vermont, just a few hours away from where I live. I wanted my 16-year-old daughter to go with me, but she said a friend was having a party that she didn’t want to miss.
Little did I know the party she didn’t want to miss was the one she was planning to throw while I was out of town.
There were signs I missed
I really should have known something was in the works. The week before I left, she insisted on knowing exactly when I’d be leaving and when I’d be coming home. Of course, I questioned her about her concern, but she assured me all was well. I chose to believe her, but maybe in the back of my mind I knew she might be up to something. After all, I lied to my parents when I was her age — I think most teens do at some point.
My daughter’s plan had flaws
I found out my daughter was lying to me by mistake. When I got home from my trip, I called the mom of her best friend, who supposedly had gone to the mythical party my daughter spoke of with my daughter. I was about to thank her for transporting them to that party, when she thanked me for letting her daughter spend the night at my house. Well, what do you know about that? It sure explained all those weird conversations the week before.
One of the biggest mistakes my daughter made was vacuuming the house while I was away. Come on now. If that isn’t a red flag, I don’t know what is.
When I talked to her about the party, she got defensive and we got into a big fight. She admitted having friends over, just five she said, then finally confessed to having a small party, though I’ll admit, I’m not sure how many kids she ended up hosting.
I’d done the same thing in high school, at my parent’s summer cottage, and the damage was far worse. I was scrubbing up beer stains and vomit for what seemed like weeks. The aftermath of my daughter’s party was nothing like that.
She claimed having a secret party while I was out of town was the only way she could have all her friends sleep over — including guys. I quickly reminded her she had three boys sleep over for her 16th birthday party last summer. We survived that, but it wasn’t something I wanted to repeat. While coed sleepovers are acceptable for some families these days, they make me too nervous.
We needed help working through this
Since things were still tense between us the next day, I decided to call our therapist and make an appointment. After all, she’s been helpful in the past with resolving issues we get stuck on.
When we met, my daughter told her side of the story, and then I dropped the bomb: I said we will not be having any more coed sleepovers at our house, whether I’m home or not. I explained that I was not comfortable with what might happen behind closed doors, and I didn’t want the weight of that responsibility while her friends were at our house.
My daughter seemed upset and since she wouldn’t yell in front of the therapist, tears filled her eyes. She admitted she felt angry and frustrated. She sounded so clear, I wasI proud of her for expressing herself and even felt a pang of guilt for how she was feeling. But I held my ground and didn’t waver on the issue.
I tried to elicit support from our therapist, asking how other parents might feel about this issue. She said most parents wouldn’t let their teenagers attend a coed sleepover — much less have one in their house. I felt supported by her explanation, but still tasted the slimy guilt of disappointing my daughter on the back of my tongue.
We’re moving past this
My daughter hadn’t resolved her feelings by the time we left our therapist’s office. She was still mad and walked twenty paces ahead of me. I felt like the villain in every Disney movie we’d ever seen. We stopped by a small shop, which felt like an oasis for the angst. By the time we left, my daughter seemed to be okay. We went home and watched a movie and had a decent night together. And though I might just be kidding myself, part of me sensed she might be relieved by my decision.
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