What teens need to know about sex, drugs, AIDS, and getting along with peers and parents is in "What Every Teen Should Know." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Teen Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
PREGNANT TEEN HAS NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS TO BE A MOM
DEAR ABBY: My 15-year-old daughter is pregnant and in the ninth grade. Her baby is due in five months. The father is 20. He has been to bed with a schoolmate of hers (also 15), and is now with a different girl on a regular basis. All of them are underage.
Abby, I have raised my daughter with no help or child support since her father and I divorced nine years ago. I worked two jobs and tried to be a good mother. I thought I could trust her. She went to a counselor twice, but refuses to go again.
I suggested she put the baby up for adoption, but she wants the baby and thinks she can take care of it and go to school.
What can I do about this? -- TROUBLED MOM
DEAR MOM: Call the young man and, in as friendly a manner as possible, ask how he intends to provide for his child. Keep the conversation cordial, since you will need his cooperation.
If he refuses to accept his responsibility, the district attorney's office in your city will assist you in getting child support from him. The D.A.'s office can also help you file charges of statutory rape, although the young man would be a better provider if he were out of jail and able to earn decent wages.
In 1990, I published a letter from a teen mother in Phoenix, trying to warn other girls of high school age. Perhaps if you show it to your daughter, she will realize what she can expect if she continues down the road on which she's headed. Read on:
"DEAR ABBY: ... I hear my friends telling me how much they'd like to have a baby, and how they wouldn't mind getting pregnant. All they think of is how much fun it would be to dress the baby and show it off. The truth is, once you have a baby, you don't feel like going out anymore. You don't anticipate the incessant crying, getting up in the middle of the night for feedings, the dirty diapers, the spitting up, the constant washing of clothes and bottles, and most important, the expense.
"I spent $600 in baby-sitting costs alone between March and May just so I could go to school and graduate -- $600 that I didn't have. That meant I had to get a job, which meant more baby-sitting costs.
"I was not, and still am not, emotionally prepared to be a mother. The stress is incredible. For the rest of my life, I am going to be a mother. If I don't feel like being a mother at some point and want to just go out and be an 18-year-old -- a typical teen-ager having fun -- that's too bad, because I will always be a mother first.
"Babies are wonderful gifts from God, but I believe they are meant for people who are emotionally and financially ready for them."
Of course, the purpose of the young mother's letter was to prevent other teen-age girls from having to experience what she was going through. In your daughter's case, it's too late for that. But perhaps when you show this column to her, it will help her to recognize the enormity of the lifelong responsibility she's assuming -- unless she recognizes the wisdom of putting her infant up for adoption. I wish you both the best of luck.
DEAR ABBY: In response to "Call Me William," I wish to quote the following verse that my husband, Bill, was told by his father:
"My mother calls me William,
"My father calls me Will,
"My sister calls me Willie,
"And my friends all call me Bill."
My husband quoted this verse many times when new acquaintances asked him how he preferred to be addressed. -- BILL WOLFORD'S WIDOW, ALICE, IN DAYTONA BEACH
FORGIVING, FORGETFUL MINISTER RAISES SPIRIT BUT NOT THE DEAD
DEAR ABBY: I was intrigued when I saw the letters in your column about forgetting people's names and trying to bluff. They reminded me of an incident that happened to my father, who is a 79-year-old Baptist minister.
Dad worked many jobs over the years. He had a "paying job" to raise us kids, and on the side he preached. He met people all over the Southwest, and they remembered him because he was educated, articulate, poetic, literate, compassionate, forgiving and loving. (He still is, and he still preaches that God is a loving, compassionate and forgiving entity.)
Dad can remember the faces of most of the people he has met, but not their names or the context in which he met them. One Sunday he returned to a church where he had served as an interim pastor. A lady walked up to him after the service and said with tears in her eyes, "Brother Clark, I can't tell you how moved I am to see you again. I haven't seen you in 10 years."
She chatted on about how happy she was to see him, and Dad tried vainly to remember her name. When she mentioned how much her husband had always thought of "Brother Clark," Dad put out a feeler based on that continued theme. "And just how IS your husband?"
"Still dead," was the much colder reply. It turned out that the last time the lady had seen Dad was when he had preached at her husband's funeral!
Dad not only raises people's spirits when they are grieving, he also raises the most beautiful flowers in Clinton, Miss. (just outside of Jackson). My mother is deceased now, but one of my favorite stories about my parents concerns a woman who stopped quite often to admire the gorgeous landscaping. One day the lady turned to my mom and asked, "How much do you pay your yardman?"
"Nothing," Mom replied. "But I have to sleep with him." -- KAREN CLARK, FORT WORTH, TEXAS
DEAR KAREN: Your letter is a day-brightener. You are fortunate to have been raised in a loving home in which laughter was not a stranger. That reminds me of a quotation I treasure from Wilferd (cq) Peterson: "Laughter is the best medicine for a long and happy life. He who laughs -- lasts."
DEAR ABBY: Mothers-in-law are so often given a "bad rap," I just have to tell you about mine.
Recently my marriage was faltering. My husband, "Jack," is a complex man whom I had always had great difficulty understanding. I felt I had tried just about everything, and was one step away from filing for divorce.
Out of desperation, I called my mother-in-law (I'll call her "Adele"). She listened as I poured out the story. She did not judge, criticize or condemn either one of us. She supported her son and me equally. Adele provided some keen insights into Jack that I didn't have. In a kind and gentle way, she also helped me to see where I needed to improve.
I learned a lot about my husband and also about myself from Adele's wisdom, and I'm putting what I learned into practice. Jack and I are staying married, and our marriage is growing stronger.
I thank God for my mother-in-law every night, and I pray that when my children are grown and have spouses of their own, I will be to them the same wise and loving mother-in-law that Adele is to me. -- MICHELLE IN GEORGIA
DEAR MICHELLE: What a beautiful tribute to your mother-in-law. As your letter so accurately illustrates, there are times when it takes more than two to make a marriage flourish. Thank you for sharing that valuable lesson. Adele sounds like a jewel.
Good advice for everyone -- teens to seniors -- is in "The Anger in All of Us and How to Deal With It." To order, send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby, Anger Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)
Downsized Husband Loses Friends as Well as His Job
DEAR ABBY: I'm writing in response to two of your readers who complained about "ghost syndrome," which occurs when someone suffers a tragedy such as divorce or terminal illness, and formerly supportive friends withdraw or disappear.
My family suffered another kind of tragedy that resulted in the same insensitive treatment. My husband, a highly placed executive, lost his job in 1990 because of company downsizing. We had been part of a large circle of friends. After the layoff it was as though we had caught a contagious disease or had fallen off the face of the earth.
Please let your readers know that the loss of a job is like having the rug pulled out from under you. Illnesses surface, self-esteem plummets, marriages are stressed and a general feeling of hopelessness pervades each day.
It would have been so helpful if a friend had invited us over for dinner, or had taken one of our children to a movie.
My husband and I finally found jobs out of town. We were grateful not only for the income, but also for a chance at a fresh start with the opportunity to make new friends -- because our old ones had vanished. -- LINDA W., FORMERLY OF TOLEDO, OHIO
DEAR LINDA: I'm sure your letter will strike a chord with many of my readers. Job loss is one of the most challenging circumstances a family has to face. It is a time when the compassion and sensitivity of friends and family -- helping with groceries or child care, offering to update a resume, or dropping off a stack of videos for a night of free entertainment -- can make all the difference.
People who care would not wait to be asked, which can be difficult for a family used to taking care of themselves. Such gestures are deeply appreciated and long remembered.
DEAR ABBY: My husband and I are retired and live in a gated (guarded) community occupied mostly by retired persons.
Our neighbors are lovely people, very friendly and sociable. "Sue" and "Al" are especially nice, and assist us in numerous ways. However, I can't set foot outside my front door without drawing Sue's attention. The minute she sees me, she comes over and initiates a conversation, usually of great length. This happens during the day, at night, on my porch or yard -- anytime I stick my nose outside my front door.
Abby, I like her and her husband very much and try not to hurt their feelings, but the stress is becoming unbearable. I feel like a captive in my own home. I actually dread going out my front door!
How can I convey the message that I don't wish to chat with her every time I am in her sight? It seems she purposely waits for me to come out so she can engage me in conversation. -- DESPERATE IN CARLSBAD
DEAR DESPERATE: Your neighbor could be a lonely woman with few social contacts, or she may be the biggest pest in your gated community. But treat her as you would want to be treated if the situation were reversed.
Make yourself less available for long conversations. Explain gently, but firmly that you have many things to do, and have no time to chat.
For an excellent guide to becoming a better conversationalist and a more attractive person, order "How to Be Popular." Send a business-sized, self-addressed envelope, plus check or money order for $3.95 ($4.50 in Canada) to: Dear Abby Popularity Booklet, P.O. Box 447, Mount Morris, Ill. 61054-0447. (Postage is included.)