I smoke marijuana for a variety of reasons. It alleviates my chronic anxiety and helps me manage stress. It relieves the muscle tension that often accompanies my mental health struggles. Marijuana also aids my sleep and makes me a more enjoyable parent. In situations that typically overwhelm me, like crowded events, it helps me stay calm. Overall, it enhances my ability to engage with life.
Research supports the benefits of marijuana for individuals with mental health issues, particularly for anxiety and sleep disturbances, as noted by Psychiatric Times. Studies show it significantly reduces stress, according to CannaMD. Many mothers use marijuana, and as of now, it’s legal in ten states and D.C., with another 15 states having decriminalized it. This means that in nearly half of the U.S., possessing or using a small amount of marijuana is not much more serious than a traffic violation.
So, when a large dinosaur exhibit came to town, I was not looking forward to it. Events like this are often dark, noisy, and packed with children. My kids could spend hours there, discussing details about prehistoric creatures that I find utterly boring. The combination of loud bouncy houses, bright lights, and crowds feels overwhelming, leaving me in a state of panic.
My husband didn’t say, “You should smoke some weed before we go.” Instead, he handed me a vape pen filled with medicinal-grade marijuana. He understood my reaction to such environments and knew I needed some assistance to enjoy the outing.
I retreated to my bedroom and bathroom, shutting the doors behind me. Unfortunately, I forgot to lock them. While listening to music and taking hits, I didn’t hear my son, Noah, open the bedroom door and then the bathroom door. Just as I was inhaling, he barged in, urgently needing to use the toilet.
There was no hiding what I was doing. I couldn’t disguise the small cartridge in my hand or the cloud of smoke that escaped my mouth. Oh no.
After exhaling, I found myself yelling about bathroom privacy. Noah apologized, explaining the other bathroom was occupied. I snapped back, saying it didn’t matter if the Pope himself told him to come in; you knock when a door is closed!
Now, I was left in a difficult position. He’s nine, and while he knows he saw something he shouldn’t have, I’m unsure if he fully understands what it was.
I faced two main choices: ignore the incident or address it. Ignoring it might mean I never have to explain anything about my marijuana use, which is technically illegal where we live. I wouldn’t want my son spreading the word that his mom smokes pot, as kids tend to share secrets. I remember being a kid, and that kind of revelation would have been too tempting to keep quiet about.
On the flip side, not discussing it would be disingenuous. I’d be implying that I don’t trust him to understand certain things. I could let him assume I was smoking a cigarette, which we’ve discussed before, but this was clearly different. We’ve talked about drugs, and he knows marijuana can be used medicinally and is legal in some places. He also knows I used to smoke pot before becoming a parent.
Should I initiate a conversation about it? I could ask how he feels about what he saw. Does he worry about my health? Is he fearful about getting caught by the police? Does he even want to try it himself? He might have questions that I could answer truthfully to help him understand better.
Navigating this conversation is tricky. At twelve, I would have no hesitation in discussing it. At seven, I would easily brush it off. But nine is a complicated age, straddling the line between childhood and adolescence.
For now, I’m pretending it never happened. However, I know that I must eventually confront this reality. My husband and I need to discuss it thoughtfully and perhaps sit down with Noah for a conversation. Or maybe not. I’m uncertain.
One thing is for sure: I wish that bathroom door had been more secure.