The parent act.

Fortunately, my kids don't read my Vibrant Life columns all that often; so they probably won't discover what I'm about to confess until Fm old and safely settled in a nursing home--far beyond retribution. If you're of a sensitive nature, you may want to stop reading at this point, because what I'm about to reveal isn't pretty.

Tonight, for the first time in my life--though probably not the last--I hacked into my son's e-mail account. Shocking, I know.

I clearly remember my grandmother shamelessly eavesdropping on all my aunt's phone conversations and thinking she was an endless busybody. No way would I ever end up like that! Well, that ideal lasted until just a few hours ago. My son, on the verge of turning 13, blushed when he mentioned that some girls from school were e-mailing him. I casually questioned him about it, but he blushed some more and gave me a vague answer.

It didn't take a rocket scientist to know something was going on. That's when I made an executive decision and instituted The Parent Act as an early warning system to identify weapons of crass destruction. I think of it as the Patriot Act for kids.

After spending time with my nose buried in my son's business, I began to understand why those guys at the NSA are getting so bored reading sauerkraut recipes swapped between farm wives in Wisconsin. What I learned, aside from the fact that teen conversations can be very boring, is that there was a little mutual crushing going on. Fortunately, I found out just before he came to me, spilled the beans, and asked for advice.

Which is precisely what I wanted to know in the first place. I've always been very open with my kids and feel as if we have great lines of communication. But now is the time when those lines start to break apart and I wanted to know if, when push came to shove, they'd hold up under the strain. I'm relieved that they did.

As the editor of Listen, a drug and alcohol prevention magazine for teens, I know firsthand what happens when parents aren't involved enough in their kids' lives. Sad stories cross my desk every day. I read them and think, Where were the parents?

When I consider the consequences, I really have no qualms about snooping in my children's lives. Would I search their rooms? Sure, if I had to protect them from an unknown (to them) threat. Interrogate their friends? Absolutely, if I felt it necessary. Check up on them when they have buddies over? You betcha. Make sure I know where they're going and with whom? You can count on it.

Some may see it as an invasion of their privacy. I see it as the first line of defense. Gone are the days when the family phone was located in the kitchen where the whole tribe could overhear kids' conversations with their friends. Today, strangers with evil intentions lurk in chatrooms online where parents seldom trod. Many kids carry cell phones. They can talk to anyone, anywhere.

Parenting today is not for the squeamish. This is especially true if you're a Christian. We're called, not only to raise kids who will become good citizens of an earthly home, but strong Christians who will become citizens of a heavenly home. The odds are against us. With all these newfound freedoms come newfound risks--risks that weren't imaginable even ten years ago. It's up to us to build the appropriate fences around our kids' lives.

Technology is a wonderful tool, but it means that now, more than ever, parents need to be vigilant in monitoring their children. That's why my Parent Act will be in effect until the kids in my house come of age and have learned the skill and have the desire to protect themselves. Until then, just call me Snoop Mommy Mom.

Celeste Perrino-Walker confines all of her snooping to Rutland, Vermont.