Who needs Friends?

Call me old fashioned, but I’ve always thought it a little odd when parents aspire to be their child’s best friend.

Adult child – yes. But under the age of 18 a child is still a child and needs a parent to be just that. The friends bit comes later and can last for many, many decades.

However, as a mum of three teenagers and one pre-teen, I’ve had to have a rethink on the friends issue, in a bid to keep pace with the 21st century in general and social networking in particular.

Take my eldest son. In the past two years he has changed from the sociable boy who didn’t mind sharing a sofa with his parents, to a recluse who lives a hermit-like lifestyle in a hovel – sorry, bedroom.I had to open a Facebook account just to let him know his evening meal was on the table.

His 987 friends (I am so proud my son is so popular) find it all very amusing and the nightly meal updates have created something of a cult status on his account.I have even adopted a few friends who request a menu preview.

Now Sam and I are “friends” the bonus is I can find out what he is up to and who he is getting up to it with - and I even get to see the photographs.

But then, Sam is 18.And now his younger siblings, who are 13 and 15, are showing the same reclusive tendencies.

Yet as any parent knows, the key to good parenting is keeping communication lines open. My teenagers may not make much verbal interaction with me - other than the odd grunt - but they seem more than happy to share their angst on their Facebook sites.

So it was with some trepidation that I invited my younger two teenagers to become my friend. I know, I know. It goes against the grain, but what else is a 21st century parent to do?

Strangely enough my daughter, who is determined to match her elder brother’s friend count, accepted even me without hesitation… which prompted a stern talking to.It turned out she hadn’t even realised it was me! But my 15-year-old son was more of a challenge.

“Mum’s so sad, she wants to be my friend,” said Joe.
“Don’t be mean,” said the 18-year-old. “She won’t understand what you’re writing anyway.”
“Just don’t leave any comments - or else,” said my daughter.
“Or else what?”
“We’ll defriend you,” they chorused.
And so I was told.

I have to admit that for the most part my eldest son was right – I could barely understand a word. Sam wasn’t joking about the language. I was totally baffled when I saw the phrase “cotch down” (sleep) and “rent” (parent) which prompted me to take a look at the brilliant Jargon Buster at www.gotateenager.co.uk

At least then I got to find out what they were up to.
For I may be a teek rent(antique parent) who is struggling to become fluent in the language of today’s youth, but for the most part I could keep a virtual eye on my teenagers.

At least until yesterday when Joe posted some language that I did understand – some good old Anglo Saxon.Before I knew it I’d posted an admonishment about his language and demanded he remove the post immediately.
Or else.

Maybe it was a little hasty. And it wasn’t a totally sick (cool) thing to do because the next thing I know I am Billy No Mates as all three decided to show some solidarity and de-friend me en masse.

I’m still trying to decide if I’m furious or relieved

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