A year ago

A year ago I thought loosing you would feel like a vacuum of love exiting my life. And while I cannot say a day goes by that I don't think of you, and feel pain somewhere deep inside;
I found love come flooding in from many sources

A year ago I thought loosing you would be the most painful experience of my life to date.
I found an honest relief for you of the painful remnants of life that were left to you the last few months, and in that relief, happiness.
A year ago I thought loosing the single person I could count on to love me above all others would be a tragedy, I found out life goes on and in your memory, thru your lessons laughter and joy are still present

A year ago I thought loosing you would have me down for the count for many months. I found many moments of peace with waves of great despair intermingled, much like being at the beach and waiting for the big wave to come, to ride in; most of the time, it's not dramatic

A year ago I was only beginning to see all that you taught me about how to love, what kind of a grandparent I want to be, I found I treasure you and who you are to me more and more. I imagine I always will

Until we meet again.

Navigating the curves

We all know it, when we give birth to these beautiful creatures, that they eventually grow into the sexual beings capable themselves of giving birth. We know it, but we don't like to think about it. Just as they get grossed out thinking about what we did to create them. As much as I hope each of my sons have a fulfilling and healthy sex life (and gives me granddaughters :-) ) It has come to my attention that it is time to step up the Driver's Ed on navigating the curves ( otherwise known as girls). But with it comes many a question.

I have, for a long time, held a simple belief about adolescence. It was shared with me by a fellow mental health clinician, who himself had four of these youths at the time. He said, " I tell them I completely trust them and their judgement until they do something that makes me get involved in their lives. Then I will take whatever steps needed to keep them safe so they can go forward again, without me involved." I liked it. It's simple and straight forward. Obvious I trust you to go to parties, until I find out you are puking your brains out in the bathroom, then we reassess. You can use the car, until you get a ticket, reassess. So as long as they remain "successful" , at either keeping their mischief from me( as we did with our parents) or in doing what's right, they continue to get room to grow.

In our day, we could go to a party and play spin the bottle, or suffer through "7 minutes in Heaven" and our parents were none the wiser. We could for the most part, experiment with our sexuality, learn about our bodies, practice being sexual beings, innocently and without our parents knowing about it. And they didn't need to know about it, usually. It now it seems that things are at once both slower and faster. My sons' are not at boy-girl parties on a regular basis, and to my knowledge no one has shown up drunk to the last day of school in 8th grade ( Can you believe that? And in Bethel in 1980?) We have kept them busy enough, sequestered enough.


Then there was Facebook. Now a days our all-to-anxious-to-write about it kids share intimate details on the public forum, leading me to the question, "When now do we get involved?" When a friend tells us what's on her son's FB stream? Is that reason enough?
 I recently learned, for some, oral sex is now "3rd Base". As I recall, oral sex wasn't even on the playing field 30 years ago ( oh God did I just do that math correctly?). yep, that sucks.About that math I mean.
I'm cracking myself up here. sorry. Back to the subject.

I am fairly confident my boys' are still relatively innocent. Notice all the uncertainty in my word choice. They are really not given much opportunity to have alone time with a girl, that I am certain of.  What I am hearing is the change seems to be in the girls' ( no one specific) eagerness, willingness to almost be used by boys. Is this the backlash to feminism? So we need to thank Snookie? We are owning our own sexuality at 13? And are willing to give BJ's to anyone? I know there were girls, troubled girls, like this then. It seems now it is more the norm. So as a mom, with new information I would not have had 30 yrs ago as a parent, what do I do?
I know what I would do if I had a daughter, that daughter specifically who is so willing to have her value debased. But I don't. I have testosterone pumping boys. The ones you used to have to watch out for.

And because of Facebook, I now have information my parents would not have had and therefore feel I am required to act. But my kids didn't do anything. So am I?
 So we talk. We talk about sex, and respect, and their plans for their futures. We talk about unfortunate girls who give themselves over for the wrong reasons( there is NO right reason at 13, 14, 15, 16...!) We talk about responsibility and self-control. Feelings, and frustrations. Relationships and communication.We talk about diseases and my unwillingness to raise another child. We use our slogan "Sex can wait, masturbate". And I keep them busy. And in groups with other boys.
They are not doing anything "wrong". But life altering things happen. I have a friend who was date raped at 15 by one of our other "friends", another with a pregnancy scare at 14. One of my ex-boyfriends became a father at 17 & and some girls had abortions & we were the "good kids".
 I know my arsenal is mostly full of stalling techniques. But isn't that the best we can do for something that is inevitable? That, and educate them on navigating the curves.

#3

Onward with my 20 date challenge. Date 3 was Friday night and all I can say is "Really?"

I used to, until Friday, say "There's no such thing as a bad date, it is either a good time, or a good story, or maybe both." Well, I have to reevaluate that, and maybe sometimes, it's just a bad date. I make sure to include something I like in the evening so all is not lost, but " Really?".

I did break one of my rules, which my brother goaded me on before the date. I did not do the pre-requisite screening phone call. In part because of the challenge and feeling like I need to be more open to it, and in part because this man was selected for me by a dating site computer system claiming to match us up on 29 dimensions.  I have yet to figure out what those 29 dimensions are. It does seem 2 arms and 2 legs and 2 eyes account for 6 of them. To be fair, he also came from a large Irish family ( .5 points there). We were both alive, so that counts.
Other than that, I knew in 2 seconds.

And the rest of the time he just supported my initial hypothesis. Some may say I looked for him to support it. But my friend who "just happened" to stop by the coffee shop we ended up at gave me a thumbs down, which just validated what I already knew.

My rules for dates are not truly that hard. Perhaps some of my male readers could weigh in on this:

1. If you are over 30 and we are not going for a run.( which will NEVER HAPPEN) please do not wear sneakers on a first date.
2. Hold open the doors
3. Pay for the frigging Hot Chocolate, or wine or whatever!
4. Occasionally break up your monologue with a question that indicates you may want to know more something about me, this is not a free therapy session.
5. I don't want to find how who you work for by the logo on your shirt. I got out of my orthodics & put on heels to meet you, you can change your shirt.
6. I won't tell you my war stories, please don't tell me yours. Your divorce is finally, we all have our own story with our own slant. There is nothing sexy about sordid divorce details.

I think that's a good start.

Maybe he knew immediately too so the bad behavior was meant to insure a negative outcome. But no, I've had this behavior before followed up with a request for a second date, so I can't chalk it up to that.

I'm gonna keep plugging, my fellow single friends, feel free to add your thoughts.
 & I hope my married friends take a look at this and go give their partner a big smooch! ( and hold it for 18 seconds) for having what it takes to keep it going.

Challenge

So one of my newly single girlfriends challenged me to go out on 20 dates this year. That may not seem like a lot, but I will tell you, considering my dread of dating, it's work. You could have just asked me to run a marathon instead. The two at the end of December don't count, so I am only at a count of two. But  the sheer numbers of how many men don't even make the cut for coffee ugh!  I have a system, learned the hard way, always chat by phone prior to meeting in person, to see if it's even worth dragging my cookies out of the house. The man who taught me this lesson lambasted me on the phone for having dogs. Literally " Why do you own dogs? They are horrible!"  & I was like, "seriously dude we do not have to meet, we're good." So glad that happened via phone & not in person. Last night I spoke with a runner from NYC, until his Long Island accent ruined it for me. I have a single friend who routinely turns down the NY accent. I thought she was being short sided, but now, I get it.
But I am determined. I do see it as a positive thing. Especially with my last post. Time did not heal the wounds, or decrease the love for my personal "Mr Big" so perhaps new memories with new men will. (I have no fantasies that he will find me on the floor in a hotel in Paris to save the day )

This is a hard thing though, really. Not just because on some level any date gets compared to my Mr Big, but because so many just make me feel    well   nothing. Last week it was the talker....talk  talk talker....I literally had to cannon ball my way into the conversation and he didn't even offer to pay for my hot chocolate! Then there are those who are so nervous their hands are shaking. uck! Don't get me wrong, I am a little nervous on first dates too. Sometimes, for no clear reason I get sick to my stomach leading up to it. But while I am there, I like to think I at least look reasonably composed. I think this all taught me I need a man who is confident and self sustaining and emotionally available. I laugh a lot, love kids & dogs. Family oriented, but looking to get out of dodge when my youngest is done with school. Oh where or where can he be???

2 down, one scheduled, waiting for another to return from his trip abroad to meet.... not bad. Plus Starbucks has this most amazing salted Caramel Hot Chocolate! I can talk to anybody( almost, not dog hater or accent guy) for an hour sipping that!

If anyone knows of any wonderful , emotionally stable single adult type man...LMK! I need 16 to be exact.

Ahh Love Damn it

Yep, I'm a mom, and yep my love life has played backseat to parenting for many years now. But I was in love way back then, and damn it, still am. With someone who is wholly not good for me. Not only is he NOT in love with me, he has done some pretty questionable things, financially looks horrible on paper &  my  closet friends swear they will disown me if I follow my ill -advised heart anywhere near this character, and yet....

Ah the sweet torture of feeling alive.
He does so many many things right.  He is like ALWAYS happy, similar to myself, and a much needed change for me. He is completely self depreciating, an intact ego is so attractive and refreshing. He is a great listener and does not need to hear himself speak constantly, a terrific change especially after some pretty dreary dates lately. He knows the fastest way to get me over anger is with his arms around me. He is actually amused by the drivel in my life. He is such a cuddler, we have to hold hands as we talk and get caught up. We just have to. He has the ability to make me feel like I am the only woman in the world, all the while knowing he can make any woman feel that way. He loves my kids & he is completely present when he is with me. He is funny and generous of heart. He dances in the kitchen,or the bathroom or the bedroom. He is kind to anyone and everyone.

And it will go no where. And my heart aches, just like any other muscle in my body aches after it is used in a fashion it hasn't been used in a while. So glad you participated in the work out, and the feelings that you have now are just evidence of how hard you worked. Love Stinks. Love is wonderful. Love doesn't always go the way we want it to.

As a therapist I know these feelings are so boringly simply a function of biology. His DNA has a certain deviation from mine, optimal for procreation, nothing more, nothing less. That's Mother Natures plan, and the girl knows what she's doing, obviously. She doesn't care if he sticks around to help shovel the snow, or is available for out of town get aways. Her job is done so quickly, leaving me to sort out the rest and attempt to getting my cerebrum to work again. To think clearly after he sends me into a tail spin with just a look. 
Ahh Love
 Damn it.

Life is messy, it's a good lesson to teach the kids.

My baby

just shut up

Oh I know it's not the kindest phrase, and in reality not one I use too much, if at all. I am far more likely to yell "Jimeny Crickets", much to the embarrassment of some, than the other popular JC phrase. There are times though, many times, that we as parents need to do just that. "Just shut up". With all do respect and reverence to the sacred and critical act of parenting. There are times we get in our own way. And make it worse. We have the power to make it much much worse.

My dear friend, and red tent buddy, Jane & I have joked for years that I should write a parenting book by that name. Not sure how many people would flock to pay to be insulted by that title.Then again the "For idiots" books sell well... I digress. I have seen very often in my practice and in life when parents are impeding the growth and development of our young with our own"stuff:", and that stuff often comes out spewed in moments of anger, frustration or disgust. Many times prolonging what should have been, could have been, a quick logical lesson for our offspring into a emotionally charged  & traumatic event,. Sometimes so much so that the original lesson is completely lost. It is, at these times, that I say to myself and to you, fellow traveler on the road to grand-parenthood, "Just Shut Up".
Prime example: A parent was having trouble getting the four year old to keep open the basement door. The cat litter box was kept on the steps to the basement and it was important for them to have access to their "potty". To make matters worse, the cats had adopted her large "wedding plant" as their substitute lu. This was a beautiful plant, the focal point of the entryway and significant to the parent in that the plant had been a wedding gift and was thriving, symbolically of the marriage. It was getting poisoned by the cats.  After dealing with this for a while, she was frustrated her reminders were not effective in helping her child remember what to do. So one rainy afternoon (we are all a little crankier in the rain aren't we?) she had had it. She went into her regular speech about how important it is to keep the door open, and the standard " How many times do I have to tell you..." ending with  "If I find you shut that door again, I am going to.. to---poop on you!"  That was a time, where " Just shut up" would have come in handy. All three of her kids got a bit wigged out by the statement.
We all do it.We take a simple message and send it down the river of anger which coats it with our own frustrated unresolved issues and dump it on the heads of the vulnerable and dependent. And if we all did it just a little less, the world would be a better place.  My mom had one, something she said when she was beyond frustrated " Don't come to my grave when I die, I will sit up and spit on you".  The images I remember floating around in my head after this statement as a 9 year old child. Oye!  Just not saying anything would have been a better option, or "Jimeny Crickets" could have worked. Recent studies suggest swearing when injured actually relieves pain. That would have been better. Although there is a difference between stubbing your toe and telling a kid to brush their teeth 15 times.
Years ago I adopted a phrase that sounds powerful but means very little, in Spanish, the only one I remember from Spanish class, that I would say that let the boys know I was nearing the end of my rope. It was never a put down to them or a threat. Just a statement that means "we only have a few strings left here on mom's rope.." I am going to hack it up trying to remember the phonetics 30 years later, but it was something like "Anque le mona se vista de seda, mona se queda." Translation, although the monkey wears a dress, it is still a monkey. Anyone who knows Spanish feel free to comment with editorial help. It means nothing really, but feels really good to say.

There are other times we parents need to "Just shut up", namely at our kids sporting events where we run the gambit from just mildly embarrassing them by calling them by their nickname,  (sorry panda), to getting  an entire group of spectators for the team thrown out of the gymnasium by our bad behavior ( that one was not me). Mother nature has a pretty good plan here, she teaches us from the birth of our children that we will be painfully letting of them from that moment on. We do not need to add to the pain with our own unresolved issues. We can maintain a level of dignity and respect for ourselves and our kids and "Just Shut Up."

And get therapy. :-)

SNOW DAYS!

Love em or hate em, if you live in CT, you get them. You may have guessed I love them. Anytime to play more with my kids is a bonus for me. I am very aware that three years from now Alex's " Snow days" will be on a campus somewhere, where hopefully he will be doing what he is doing right now, which is sleeping in his bed. Only I will not get the privilege of making breakfast for him that day. Yep, I said it, privilege. Being able to do something for someone you love, to me, is a privilege. And while the time is passing, without my consent or even consultation, I will , with "God as my witness" ( Ala Scarlett O'Hara) joyfully make them breakfast, play a game, referee their fights and whatever else a snow day requires.

I remember when they were little, I divide my life with the boys by the houses we lives in, and this was the "big house" in Ridgefield. Snow days there meant helping everyone on with their gear as they could not do it themselves, hide and seek in the house, painting, baking and me drinking a whole 2 litre bottle of diet coke. One winter we apparently had so many of them that my breasts began to hurt. My midwife told me it was the caffeine, and I'd need to find another way to keep up with three little boys on snow days. Apparently we were not meant to drink the entire bottle in one day.

Once again, we have a snow day sans snow, so far. But that still works for me. I exposed two of my sons to a foreign film, with subtitles. They had previously not known this was one of their mother's interests. And we had a talk about the state of men & women around the world, and old traditions and religion. and if we had any bacon I could make with their pancakes for breakfast. By the way, the movie is called "Water" it was beautiful, fascinating, terrifying. And once again made me thankful for the privilege of caring for my kids, and for love in all of it's forms.

I can smell bacon burning. Gotta run. Have fun today and be safe.