Keeping His Daughter Off the Pole

Along with bottles of alcohol, cigarettes, drugs and condoms, I, Mother Snoopmeister, now need to worry about my daughters having access to a stripper pole.

(from E!’s new show, Keeping Up with the Kardashians)

Seriously, this clip disturbs me on many levels (get about 1 minute into it to see what I mean): first, are people really installing stripper poles in their homes? I don’t care about those crazy Hollywood types, but are normal people doing this?

Second, how old is this girl*? I swear, I’d make her wear parachute pants, sweatshirts, sneakers and a bracelet monitor until she is 18.

Finally, did you recognize the father who came in to scoop up the stripper-wannabee? I thought he looked vaguely familiar, but also looked kind of like a woman. He is none other than Bruce Jenner who has gone from this:


To this:


Lesson learned: back away from the stripper pole and the surgeon’s knife.

*(edited to add: I just checked E!’s website, and our little dancer, Kylie, is—-get this—nine years old).

Snooping For a Cause

When I first heard about the 14-year old boy who was arrested for possession of multiple firearms and bomb-making materials, I thought, “how the hell did he hide all of this from his parents?”

Well, it turns out, he did not need to hide anything. It appears that his mother purchased most of the items for her “social outcast” son, and the weapons were “plainly visible in the boy’s bedroom”.

So, while this does not appear to be a case of clueless parents not noticing the arsenal in Junior’s bedroom, it has gotten me thinking about the notion of privacy and children. Should the two go together?

When I was a teen, my room was my own. I felt relatively certain that my mother was not combing through my drawers or lifting my mattress looking for contraband. At the same time, I was a pretty safe bet. I didn’t date or drink much until my senior year, got good grades and was pretty open about my life. If my door was locked, I was simply listening to classic rock or having one of those inane teenage phone conversations.

But, I did have a secret. It was a large bottle of Peppermint Schnapps that was hidden in a shoe box in my closet. This bottle lasted me a long time, and only came out for special occasions, like the outdoor parties at the old Mill in our town.

Did my parents ever find this bottle? I don’t think so. My mother made my bed every morning and did all my laundry (I know, gag. . .spoiled), but she left most of the straightening up to me. So my bottle was safe from the prying eyes of parents.

Now, a bottle of Schnapps is a helluva lot different from a few automatic weapons and grenades, but it makes me think about how many secrets I want my kids to have while they live under my roof.

Right now, my kids are young: I straighten out their closets and drawers, check under their beds, go through their bins of toys and stuffed animals (all for housekeeping reasons, but you get the idea that their rooms are open books to me). I do not intend to make their beds or do their laundry forever, but that doesn’t mean I will never enter their room and look around. I’m very hopeful that the worst thing I will find is a crusty plate of old food under the bed.

I will monitor their computer usage, of course, but what about a journal or personal diary? I’d like to think that these will always be ‘off limits’ to me, but if I suspect drug use or physical/emotional abuse or some other major issue, all bets are off.

What do you think? Is it ok to snoop on your child? (Always, never or under certain circumstances?) Can you imagine your child hiding something as large as a stash of rifles and grenades in their room? Were your parents “snoopers”?; if so, how do you feel about their actions now? Were they justified?

I’d love to hear how you feel about this subject.

I’m a New England Mama

Come and visit me here today, ‘kay?