Kid Love

So Abby, my ten year old, and I were doing word-masters last night.  Word Masters.  Like tell me a synonym for scythe, and what’s the definition of hindrance.   There’s a long list of typed words with definitions, and at the bottom of the page, written in faint pencil, a tiny heart.  And the letters X & A in the heart. (Actually, it was a letter other than X)

Wait a minute. 

“Abby, what’s this?”  I point at the heart.

She ignores me.  “Do the next word.”  She says.

“Who’s X?”  I ask her.

“No one.  Do another word.” 

But the corners of her mouth crinkle upwards and she looks at the ceiling, suppressing something.  

Hello?  Abby is ten years old, a little gymnast with calloused hands who regularly points out that she can climb higher and faster up the ropes without using her legs than any of the boys in her class can even if they use their feet to hold on.  In fact, so far I haven’t heard boys mentioned in anything other than a competitive, sort of one down position.   Of course, I’m the product of an intensely co-educational Vassar education, so X could also be a girl. 

Wait, I must be wrong about this. Abby is only ten.  And not interested, right?

“Who’s X?”  I ask again.  And now she opens her bright blue eyes wide in what I’ve noticed is her “I’m cute, change the topic” look – which must work with me sometimes because she’s trying it now.  Only I don’t change expressions. 

“It’s okay to fall in love, Abby.  Who’s X?”

I expect her to tell me she was just doodling – it’s a joke – I was just making shapes -- but instead she chews a lip and says,

“He’s in another class.”

How do you know him? 

He was in her class last year.  He plays during recess with Zeke, a boy who sits near her. 

“What do you like about him?”  I ask. 

“He’s cute.  He plays football.  I dunno, I don’t get to spend much time with him,”  she says.  But the smile is effervescent.  She is literally aglow.

She’s in fourth grade.  Freud wrote about a latency period, when all psychosexual energy stops and gathers for the coming flood of puberty.  So much for that.  I’m tempted to blow this off completely – she’s just a little kid, but there’s something about that tiny heart on the page and the way she rocks in her chair that tells me – she really feels something.  And who am I to doubt its intensity?  This is real.  It may be raw and less informed – but is the fuel behind her passion any less intense than mine ever was?  I’m not so sure.  Shakespeare had kids just a few years older killing themselves over love in Romeo and Juliet – who’s to say when it starts?

So I rub her back and say, “Good for you kid.  Falling in love is good.”  And she smiles in relief.

There’s a lot more I want to say... 

But instead I say, “Okay, define hindrance...”

An open letter to my 13 year old daughter about alcohol

Ready for a science based discussion of alcohol?

So a few days ago you and I talked about a girl you know who has already started drinking, even though she’s only 13. Unfortunately, 13 is about when drinking starts for a lot of kids. (About 10% of 8th graders have started drinking, 21% of 10th graders, and about 30% of high school seniors – data from the National Institute on Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism).

Let’s face it, it’s easy to get – you only need to know one set of parents among all of your friends who keeps alcohol around in an accessible place to start experimenting (my parents had an ancient bottle of peppermint schnapps next to a bottle of 151 rum in the basement).

I’m not expecting you to never drink when you get older. Alcohol can be an enjoyable part of social events and there’s research to suggest that alcohol in moderate quantities (like one drink a day) is related to reduced heart disease.
But adolescents don’t drink moderately because, well, for one, it’s illegal, and two, they tend towards binging. Binging is when you drink a lot at once, like more than three drinks (a drink is defined as a shot of “hard liquor” like whiskey, gin, tequila or vodka or one beer or glass of wine).

Why is binging bad? After all, everyone knows that three drinks is likely to give you a hangover, but won’t kill you. First, it will make it dangerous for you to operate machinery, drive, or, in some cases, even walk up or down stairs. The real problem is that most kids can’t regulate. Once they get tipsy, thinking disappears and they continue to drink until there isn’t alcohol available or they’ve done something stupid. If you have too many, ...well, the outcome can be dramatic.

Consider the case of Julia Gonzalez. She was 16 years old, and went out drinking with a few of her friends during Christmas Break. Her body was found ten hours later with an impressively high alcohol level. Dead. Or Sarah Btill, who drank a huge amount of vodka with a few of her friends and died two months ago in Santa Clara. Sarah was 15. I can keep going,... The internet provides a steady stream of these sad tales.

(By the way, if you happen to be with someone suffering from alcohol poisoning – have the guts to call for help my darling. Don’t use a shower, coffee, or anything else. Symptoms of alcohol poisoning are a stupor – the victim can’t be roused – they may also have vomiting, seizures, few than eight breaths per minute, hypothermia --bluish skin color -- or a combination of these things.) Laying in a pool of spittle is a bad sign  that teenagers usually fail to recognize.

The other problem – and very common -- with even modest binging is what it does to your squash. Adolescence is a critical developmental period for your brain. Put in too many toxic chemicals and surprise! the cake doesn’t bake right.

Check this out. Researcher Susan Tabert at the University of California in San Diego did an incredibly cool study. She scanned the brains of 12 – 14 year old kids before they started drinking and then followed them for years. Over time, some of these teenagers started classic binge drinking – they had 4 – 5 drinks 3 or more times a month. Then she compared them.

She found that the kids who drank heavily had about a 10% decrease in important brain functions like attention and tests of spatial functioning (in an NPR interview she said, “think of it as the difference between getting an “A” and getting a “B”.)

Dr. Tabert also found the alcohol decreased the quality of the white matter in their brains – a likely permanent assault on the brain’s cellular messengers – in addition, there were differences in the hippocampus, a key structure for memory.

So binge drinking in a developing brain likely leads to – that’s right -- brain damage.

(By the way, she’s not alone, other research has shown that adolescents who binge screw up serotonin and dopamine too – essential neurotransmitters for just about everything important to you that begins with “m” – like, you know, movement, memory, mood)

This shouldn’t be surprising. There’s a reason people throw up after drinking large quantities of alcohol – the body recognizes that it’s been poisoned.

The last issue I’ll raise now involves driving. Type the words “teenager dies crash alcohol” into google and you’ll get over 588,000 google entries from all over the world. Most cities in the world with cars and teenagers have suffered. I won’t say more, you’ve already seen this in your own life.

Like I said, I don’t expect you to never drink. I do expect you to be smart about it. Start your drinking after your brain has finished most of its development – like in your 20’s. Drink moderately when you do drink – that’s fewer than three drinks in one evening. And stay away from machinery and vehicles.

You realize, of course, that if you get a DUI or come home with alcohol on your breath when you’ve been driving and I will make GITMO seem like an exotic spa.

And please –darling – I beg you, don’t ever get in a car with someone who’s drinking – I don’t care where you are or whom they are. Parents, boyfriends, or Super Rabbi. If they’ve had more than one drink I’ll come get you – or pay for the cab – any hour of the day – no questions asked...

And since you’re asking – A friend and I did eventually try that ancient bottle of peppermint schnapps when I was a senior. It tasted like a combination of soap, mouthwash and electricity. I’ll suspend my rules if you want some. Here. Drink up.