Transition

Remember that time during labor when you are waiting for the cervix to dilate to 10 cm? The contractions are getting worse, stronger, longer and closer together.  The pain is fairly excruciating. The light at the end of the tunnel is hard to focus on because the now, well it sucks. Well if there is the equivalent in the launching process for adolescence, I think we have hit it.
Don't get me wrong. My kids are any parents dream. ( if I say so myself) They help around the house, ( not without grunting, but I expect grunting) the are excellent students, they are physically active and respectful, most of the time. Their music is horrendous, but I think that's a right of passage too. Michael asked me this morning why I listen to "my" music, kind of why am I stuck on " Don't worry be Happy". I told him most of us get caught into our generation's music, and he will too, unless he realizes Emminem is badly in need of yoga & therapy.

So to my son:
When you were born, driving home from the hospital, I had this overwhelming feeling of fear and inadequacy. They let me take a baby out of the hospital. I have to keep him alive or a lot of people will be really mad at me. Then I fell head over heels in love with you and I had to keep you alive, and protect you for you and for me.

So you did not have honey until you were past one.
You were breastfed until you were 15 months old.
I gladly gave up my career to be there for you, and facilitate your learning and playing and well being.
There were no gates in our house, as I walked beside you when you learned to navigate the stairs.
I watched you climb, knowing you could get hurt, and knowing your mastery was as important.
I did not let you watch the news after 9/11, why expose you to a world you could not control.
I did not tell you about Columbine, see above.
When you heard about Elizabeth Smart, you had trouble sleeping for weeks for fear someone would take you out of your bed. I wish you hadn't heard about her.
I gave you the keys to the car when we walked out of the DMV after you passed your permit test, you drove home. I knew we could get hurt, your mastery was as important.
You rarely hear "NO" because you have earned so many yeses. Your time is yours 90% of the time, you make so many of your own decisions, because you consistently make good ones. And you are a teenager, so that can change at any given point in time. I know your dad & I did not consistently make good decisions when we were teenagers.
And yes because you are in a divorced family, there is an unreal aspect to our lives. I do my own thing when you are gone, and I make sure I am available when you are here, and that's odd, to you. & I will admit it is, your friends parents fit their social life into their schedule and sometimes it overlaps with the kids lives, I don't need to do that.
And yes, if I think women popping ping pong balls out of their vagina's is a vulgar image you don't need to be exposed to, we are walking out of the movie when that scene comes on. And if that is enough to make you mad at me for an entire night, maybe just maybe I am doing my job right. And maybe, just maybe transition is hard for both parent and child.
I wonder what it is like for that baby, getting pushed & squeezed, over & over making it's way down the birth canal. I am sure there is terrific relief when it is over, but I bet the process is not fun for them either.
And it is always harder for the first one, for both of us.

So even while I am proud of your work and who you are and how you conduct yourself, it is still my job to ease you out into the world, and protect you from unnecessary things. I have surrendered so much already

The end of an era

I knew it would happen. I told his brothers it would happen, although that did not lesson the teasing or taunting as I had hoped. Gone forever,  I fear, is the carefree just "being" of little boys. You know, when brushing your teeth or wearing matching clothes are just not on the radar. Moving, being out in the sunshine, climbing trees or conquering mythical creations are by far more important that how one looks to others.There is actually no awareness of how one looks to others. Michael was my only child who truly encapsulated all that was wonderful and innocent about boyhood wonder in this way. #1 was too busy, well, being a first born, to allow himself such freedom. #2 was always WAAAAYYY to into the tender gender to allow himself to relax on his appearance. He was a metro sexual before the word was invented.

Meantime Michael could wear the same clothes for days on end, if I let him, or never brush his teeth, again, if I let him. He did not care that we could smell his breath across the table, or that his peers might have a problem with it. He was ok with rust colored shorts and a red or orange shirt. He was ok with one pair of socks worn for a week straight, or not brushing his hair & I loved all of that about him. His brothers didn't. Far to aware of the social rules or their own self-imposed hygiene mandates, Micheal's casual neglect of all things hygienic was a constant source of battle with them. In part because they felt it reflected badly upon them. " When's the last time you took a shower?", " Mom, he wore those shorts yesterday!", " My God your breathe is disgusting". While I hated the teasing, or pleading for change, I told them it would happen, in his time, not theirs. I silently applauded him for not being swayed by their pressure.

Last night- ten p.m.- I had to tell him to put down the toothbrush & go to bed. He had been at it for a while, coming to my bedside breathing on me to have a breathe check. Scraping, flossing and brushing, then checking again. I though maybe it was due to the dentist today, then this morning, before school, not only did he have ALL new clothes in, he wet down his hair and brushed it.

I think there's a girl in the picture... "and so it goes, and so it goes. And so will you soon I supposed."

All is right with the world

I know, it was supposed to end on Saturday. I made a cheesecake for the occasion. But 9 teenagers were playing hockey in my driveway Saturday morning, with makeshift goals and using brooms as sticks when our supply ran low, and all was right with the world. They organized themselves, and included everyone. Yeah, there was a good deal of ribbing and complaints intermingled with the triumphant goals and blocks, but they did it. Some were on roller blades, some in sneakers. With out fancy equipment, or overzealous coaches giving them pointers to teach them the "right" way to have a good time, they played for over an hour. They played. I had teenagers "playing" in my driveway. & it was one of those moments I wrapped in my heart to remember.

Like everyone else, we are rushed -rushed to get homework done, haircuts, chores, play dates, get to commitments, the gym, work. My kids have the added pressure of being " rushed" between two homes, a definate downside of a divorce. But on this Saturday morning, they got to do what kids, in my opinion, are supposed to do, organize themselves, use their budding adult skills to create order and have fun. I got yelled at for taking pictures. I get yelled at a lot for taking pictures. & in the words of  Beverly Jean, my mother, "TS". I know they don't get it, not my job to teach them. Life will show them, in 20 years, the importance of pictures on a Saturday morning when you are playing hockey with your school friends in your driveway. ( the blog is not letting me upload these pictures right now, don't know why.sorry)

In someways, with the impending end of the world, it reminded me of 9/11. THE 9/11. And while our future is as uncertain today as it was on that tragic day, I wanted to hold in my heart the innocence of my children's world. I remember, after spending the better part of that day glued to the horror on television, in the company of the electrician who was working at our house, when Alex came home from school I turned the TV off and we put a blanket out on the front yard. We had a picnic and followed bugs as they traversed the orange blanket his father's family has had for years. They watched in wonder and amazement as these tiniest of creatures made their long journey over our picnic tablecloth and focussed on what was important. Life. Now.

Those boys in my driveway. One just got his license last Friday. I am calling DMV to set up Alex's appointment today. They are all on the cusp. Dangers they don't let their teenage brains dwell on. Let alone the hopeful happy ending to it all,- in two years they will be headed out. Out to that world that could end for any of them in an instant. I do not mean to be morose. I find keeping reality in mind helps me appreciate everyday moments and embrace more joy.

And on last Saturday morning, while 9 boys played hockey in my driveway, and yes crushed my spring flowers, all was right in the world.

This one it let me load...go figure

Shout out to my Bros

Mom's 70th Bday Party

I write a lot about my Red Tent Mates, and was comprising yet another metaphor filled blog about them last night when it occurred to me, after one of my brother's saved my technological life yet again, I've not given them enough Kudos, so here goes:

Kevin, Brian, Sean, Cathy, Matthew, Glen, Kevin, Brian, Sean, Cathy, Matthew, Glen, Kevin, Brian, Sean....I remember repeating our names over and over as a kid, trying to get the time down quickly. As I have said in previous a previous blog, my mom did a really good job naming us, I always thought( Matthew would disagree citing himself as the only on not ending with the "n" sound, and there's that white Christmas stocking standing apart from our red ones, but that's his story to tell). Kevin, Brian, Sean, Cathy, Matthew, Glen. The connections that last a lifetime. Our siblings are generally the longest relationships we have in our lives, and studies have shown both longevity and late life happiness are related to these relationships, and why shouldn't they be?

Ok, I am getting girly wordy and this ones for the boys, so I will bring it in:

Kevin: when I have been physically threatened is my bodyguard- who else can say that? Plus at family gatherings he organizes the kids into athletic games-which rocks ( even when he has to show up 12 yr olds)

Brian : is my own Geeks Squad- he amazes me at his abilities and patience talking me through untangling whatever I have currently tangled on my computer- countless hours and patience he has given me

Sean- My rock & my amusement- He held me up with weekly phone calls when I was going through the hardest time of my life, undauntedly. His multiply yearly visits are highlight of my year every year & he is soo funny. He comes and asks for a list of things he can do for me, he teaches my boys how to do thing ( hanging a shelf in Alex's room promoted a " Uncle Sean knows everything". Not the PhD from Columbia, the carpentry skills- kids.

Matthew- closest in age to me, we have shared so much, too much to mention- he is my soul connection, hours of conversation about life and support

Glen- Last but never least- He is my 911 on everything else, and there's a lot of 911 he has been there for. Like when I walked into my vacant house to find 3 inches of water everywhere & it raining from the ceilings- Glen is my go to guy. He simply says" Alright I'm coming" whenever I call.

Can a girl get any luckier than me?

Love you guys

Life is Good

PMS aside, (sorry about that phone called yesterday Tina) Life is good!
The Donald will continue to do what he does best.
My kids are rocking their school work.
I made my first Au Pair sale www.culturalcare.com! or contact me at cathy.roche@lcc.culutralcare.com
I have the biggest week yet for my practice and more clients calling...
Man, I feel like a woman....
People say the like my hair ( that never happens)
I am finding out how great having three teen aged boys are to have around.



It's a new normal, not what I used to enjoy, but really cool stuff,

Like how on Mother's Day they would not let me carry the backpack when we climbed the mountain.

& the made me the most perfect cup of tea.

& how #2 said he sometimes wonders what it would be like to have a mom who is not a therapist , I know that could go either way, but he followed it up with some private info that meant it was a compliment. WOOT! WOOT!

And how the little one sat on the counter tonight working out his moral compass with me while deciphering 7th grade social rules.

And the card I got from the oldest one on Mother's Day that seemed sincere and honest, and he got my right size for the present.

& how Hangover 2 is coming out very soon

& how great my friends are

& my mom - she's cool too

Maybe I had too much PMS chocolate...

Momma said there'd be days like these

So as I was looking for my diamond studs, yeah you read that right, I am looking for my diamond studs. Usually they are found in my ear lobs.They are there not because I don't have a lot of choices in earrings, I wear them everyday so I DON"T LOSE THEM. But dating machine that I am, I have recently been switching them out to some of my other pairs, and par for the course, have misplaced my DIAMOND STUDS.  But I digress-

I found a birthday card, in my hunt, I found a birthday card, a 21st birthday card to be exact from my Janie. My Janie is the one who has had the bad day. Yes worse than not finding the studs. Janie's family is going through some tough stuff not unusual for an American family in these times. It is stressful and exhausting, and distracting. And in her distraction this morning, as she was trying to plan ahead and run back in the house to grab a banana, she forgot to put the car in park. When she realized it, it was just in time to see it scrape across the side of the house, severing several utilities, and doing a number on the car as well.

Jane called me almost immediately to tell me her woe. I recounted to her the many car accidents I was in during the years I was trying to decide about the viability of my marriage ( yep years). 3 to be exact, three accidents. One with the garage door. Stress takes a toll on us, no doubt.

Jane's a woman of humor and quickly worked to find humor in the situation. I got a text from her in the afternoon with estimate of the repair for the car only. She said it was a $1950 banana. I replied " Ape Shit"
I'm pretty sure she smile.
Momma said there'd be days like this. We all need our Red Tent Crew to get us through

The other mothers

A comment from one of my readers prompted my thoughts on this blog. She said she could" see Michael saying that", and it reminded me of all the other " mother's my kids have had along the way, and on this Mother's Day I'd like to acknowledge and thank them. I am more than certain I could not have done it with out!
Michael & I bumped into my midwife, Kathy Parisi, yesterday. When I saw her, I turned to Michael and said " Would you like to meet the first woman who ever touched you?" That is profound enough in and of itself, Kathy eased my son into this world, and ( since my kids don't read this I will give her the kudos she truly deserves) She got the 10 lb 2 oz'er out of me without an episiotomy or a tear! My sister-in-law Wendy was pointing out to me that I was sitting on a hard chair 2 days after his birth, wasn't even a thought. She is magnificent!
Christine- the gymboree teacher who loved my boys so much she'd let them all come to one of their sessions( totally against the rules) and gave Alex her son's collection of animal books to support his growing passion at the time. Her love for my babies was evident in every class.
Then there's miss Mary Beth & her staff at Anderson Montessori School, to whom I let go of those tiny hands for the first time, the first three hours of their lives without me on a consistent basis. She eased my pain and helped create the amazing students I have today. I run into her once in a while, and update her about the boys. I wish the schools would send her a copy of their report cards, I see her as deserving of them as I am.
I must mention our Au Pairs, as reluctant as I was to have one, the circumstances in my life at the time necessitated an extra set of hands for a few years. Dani informed me yesterday she is expecting her second child in October and Lisa gave birth to her's last month. I am more in dept to those women, who were not much more than girls at the time they lived with us, than anyone else. They filled in the gaps, made things better, taught me a thing or two and became life long friends along the way.
The women who were my friends who love my children even though they do not have to: Denise, who was granted Alex's first smile at 6 weeks old, even though I was the one feeding him & not throwing him out a window even though he cried 24/7. Diane, who spent many a spring afternoon at the zoo with us. Adele, who trained them how to do Mother's Day  right and talks me down and gives me support, and would do anything for them at moments notice. Nancy, Susan, Dorothy, Meighan, Stephanie, Mary Beth, my kids' friends mom who help them & me in an instant. And have become my friends as well.

Then there's the teacher's who went above and beyond and loved my boys: Carol and Julie, Joyce and Barb, Susan and Janice, Chrissie & Pat. During the divorcing years and there after, all these women held my kids and helped me in ways I cannot even explain. I am forever grateful.

So for those who gave birth, and those who earn the title by allowing themselves to love a child who was not born to them, Thank you and Happy Mother's Day.

I must have done something good

I really connected with that song from the Sound of Music. I used to fantasize about playing it at my wedding. And while my Captain Von Trap remains MIA, I found myself humming it the other day with the same sense of peace I always imagined I would have. And while not the romantic whirl around the gazebo Maria encountered, it was good. And  it was prompted by Michael, my youngest.

Poor kid was home a few days this week suffering from his spring allergies, which apparently are immune to even RX medications. Poor kid. He was miserable. But during our two days together, in between my clients, we chatted, and played games and watched some TV. And he appreciated me, and he told me so. But that's not it.

 He approached me in the kitchen one day and told me he wanted to tell me something, but he didn't want me to be disappointed. Isn't that just about the perfect lure for a mother, right up there with " I have to tell you something but you have to promise not to get mad."  So I bit. He told me while I was out with his brothers on the trampoline the other night he logged on to a local radio station and nominated me as " Mother of the Year". Disappointed? Seriously? He said he didn't know if I would win. LOL. As I wrapped him in my arms, I told him I already had won.This is one occasion when it truly is an honor, just to be nominated.

Cue music "Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth, or childhood. I must have done something good."