Let me say right off the bat: I have no interest in being the Narc Mom.

Yet as I hear more and more from my 14-year-old son, Nathaniel, about what the kids in his grade are doing, a question keeps swirling around in my head: When, if ever, should you call other parents to tell them that their children are engaging in behavior that is not entirely appropriate or safe? So far, I’ve been lucky. Nathaniel talks to me. And, yes, before you start laughing at my naïveté, I know he doesn’t tell me everything. Part of being a teenager is putting one over on your parents, doing things you are not supposed to do — some of them really stupid, if not bordering on dangerous.

But in our house, we have always valued honest conversation, a give-and-take that is grounded in trust. And because I want to keep that conversation going, it’s important that I reward his disclosures — about himself and his friends — with my discretion. To be clear, if I ever caught one of Nathaniel’s friends doing something wrong, I wouldn’t hesitate to let his or her parents know. When Nathaniel is my source, however, I’m the mom who is mum. If he thought for one minute that I’d rat out his friends, turning him into a pariah in the process, he’d instantly shut me down. And, frankly, I’d deserve it.

Still, knowing things about other people’s children can be awkward, especially when you are friendly with the parents and you’re pretty certain that they’re in the dark. For example, thanks to my son’s candor, I am privy to which of his peers are experimenting with cigarettes, marijuana and alcohol. I am aware that some of them are lying to their parents about where they are going and when.

On at least a few occasions, I must admit, I’ve been tempted to pick up the phone and call the parents of these kids, just to give them a heads-up. After all, I’d want to know if my son were doing these things. What’s more, if we were all on the same page as a community of parents, it would be easier for us to enforce the rules.

Each time, though, I have stopped myself from making that call, vowing that I won’t out another kid unless I truly believe that he or she is in harm’s way (and, though some will surely disagree, I’m not worried — at least at this point — that any of these young people are in real danger because of what they’re doing).

In the end, it simply can’t be my job to make sure that other parents are clued in to their own children. They need to take responsibility for that. Indeed, even though I’m confident that Nathaniel exhibits good judgment most of the time, my policy is to trust but verify — and to make sure that he is fully aware I am checking up on him. For instance, if Nathaniel asks to go to a party, I always call the host family to make sure that a parent will be on hand to supervise. If he asks to go on a sleepover, I touch base with the parents to make sure that they’re expecting him.

Nathaniel tells me about some of the bad decisions that his friends are making — and that he himself has made in the face of peer pressure — because he is looking for guidance about how to navigate a difficult world. If I have any hope of continuing to provide him with that guidance, my lips must remain sealed.