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It’s probably sad that most of us associate St. Patrick’s Day with beer and not the man himself. I’m part Irish, but I admit when I think of St. Patrick’s Day, it is with wistful nostalgia for my carefree youthful drinking days, not of anticipation for adorning my daughter with a shamrock crown. Screw the shamrocks, I want some whiskey.
Now that I’m a parent, I often think about how my parents raised me and check in with myself to see if I want to emulate them in this way or that. Thinking of drinking often makes me think of my parents’ overstated reaction to alcohol when I was growing up. We never had alcohol in the house; indeed, none of my extended family ever drank in front of me, either. I don’t think they really drank at all. For a while, I really thought drinking, in and of itself, was a sin.
When I went off to college, other parents would come up and buy their kids a beer. I used to lie and tell my parents that Parents’ Weekend was actually a different weekend, because I didn’t want to suffer through watching my friends party with their parents while I sat sipping a Diet Coke with mine. An immature reaction, for sure, but the best I could manage at the time. I couldn’t understand why they were making such a big deal out of it.
The little angel is only four, but I do think about her as a teen from time to time. I think about what I’ll say to her about sex and controlled substances, peer pressure and college. With St. Patrick’s Day and its unbridled frivolity, I think about what I’ll say to her about drinking.
When I was at the University of Iowa, one of my boyfriend’s fraternity brothers died after choking on his own vomit in his sleep. It was a fraternity holiday, Pledge Dad night, and the kid drank way too much by everyone’s accounts, was asked to stop, was checked on, but he still died. I don’t blame him in any way for his death, but I do think it might have been averted if he’d better known how alcohol works on the body. Contrary to many people’s belief, he wasn’t forced to drink that night. He certainly wasn’t forced to drink the quantity that he drank.
The first time I got drunk, it was with Everclear. Yes, Everclear. Not knowing how fast hard alcohol acted on the body, I had something like six or seven shots in an hour. I ended up being driven home, knocking over my parents’ Christmas tree, throwing up 17 times down to liver bile and pulling all my stomach muscles from vomiting so much. I also ended up grounded for the entire Christmas vacation.
My parents were aghast. I was aghast. How the hell did THAT happen? Why did nobody else seem to be as messed up as I was? How did alcohol work, anyway?
I would never encourage the little angel to drink in high school or in college, but I’m not naïve. I’m sure she’ll discover the wonders of alcohol on her own. But how do you educate a child about alcohol and other substances without encouraging its use?
Just tell your kid about alcohol poisoning. Alcohol poisoning is what can happen if you drink too much, too fast.
• Victim chokes on his or her own vomit.
• Breathing slows, becomes irregular, or stops.
• Heart beats irregularly or stops.
• Hypothermia (low body temperature).
• Hypoglycemia (too little blood sugar) leads to seizures.
• Untreated severe dehydration from vomiting can cause seizures, permanent brain damage, or death.Even if the victim lives, an alcohol overdose can lead to irreversible brain damage. Rapid binge drinking (which often happens on a bet or a dare) is especially dangerous because the victim can ingest a fatal dose before becoming unconscious.
Stanton Peele takes the controversial stance that parents should be the ones to teach their children how to drink.
It thus remains for parents to deal with drinking before sending their children off to college – or even earlier, since most high school kids have gotten drunk. The questions for parents to pose to themselves are: “Where and when will my child first drink?” and “Who will teach them to drink?” If the answer to the first question is, at
