"That Mom"

Remember That Girl,  the sweet young girl trying to make it in New York. Longing for Donald to pop the question, " That Girl" being pulled from a line-up of dancers by Ethel Merman? She was sweet, funny, joyful.
Well I am apparently "That Mom" which carries none of the positive attributes of Marlo Thomas' character. "That Mom", is not a good thing according to the teenage boy sect. But you see,
"That Mom" is needed in today's world, & I carry the label willingly. I'd rather be "that mom" than " too busy Mom", or "disinterested Mom".
It started years ago, well with my childhood actually. I was brought up in a time that if Mrs Hook or any of the other adult neighbors, caught you doing something wrong, your mom was going to find out. Adults were adults & kids were kids and right was right & not everyone won the game and got a trophy, and complaining about your teacher resulted in your parents being upset with you, not your teacher. I happen to think there's some good stuff in there.
So while on vacation years ago and playing a giant game of Candy land,  a parent less child decides to sit close enough to the game board, after he won his loot, to steal more pieces. I am the mom who says, " You have had enough and that's not okay, put it back." Nicely, but with constant eye contact. I am the mom who,
during a Yankees game with my young boys, turned to the teens/early 20's behind me and asked them to watch their language in front of my kids, and they did & they were nice about it. I think the world wants us to be better. When we ask for better behavior, we often get it, and that's good for everyone.
I was " That Mom" last week when I informed the coaches association of a Freshman coach who not only verbally abused his team ( and their moms were there to see it!) but he threw his clipboard into the stands, and yelled whenever out team took a shot. Did I mention they were winning ... by alot? Someone needs to say, " It is not ok to talk to kids like that" & If I have to be that mom, I will.
I took #1 to UNC for a college visit. We were told there would be around 300 people during our time slot, and to get there early, as there were three time slots. Ten minutes into what was supposed to be a presentation no one was in the auditorium. I was staring to get the " That Mom" talk. " Mom don't do anything." We teased that they must be conducting a social experiment to see what people would do. Alex thought it was a test in patience. I told him I thought there was a communication issue and if it were a social experiment they were looking for who would just sit there and do nothing and who would find out how to make things better. Sitting was excruciating for me. My body was tingling with forced stayputtedness. Then I broke  25 minutes into what was supposed to be an informational session, I grabbed my phone and went to the hallway where I was that mom. I called the admission's office to let them know 300 people had been waiting for 30 minutes. They did not know. The person who was supposed to show was MIA, someone ran down and gave us a condensed speech.  I wish I had called ten minutes into the waiting. I have to give myself permission to be "That Mom". Even when it's unpopular with my kids, cause in the end, we all need her sometimes.

Passing of the taxi cab keys

It's here! It's finally here! Feb 11th 2012 , the day I can officially turn over the taxi cab keys to Alex. The day the State of Connecticut feels he has had enough experience so that my entire life can be driven around in his hands. I took a picture of the first time he & Nick got in the car together, they were ducking ( not ideal driving posture) so as not to get in the picture.

Then we all got in the car for my belated birthday dinner at The Melting Pot, ( shouldn't I be getting some type of advertising comission?) Alex at the wheel, Nick was on GPS & Michael decided it was his job to try desperately hard to keep me from being a back seat driver. & I really didn't want to be. I wanted to sit back there, all relaxed, enjoying being driven for the first time in a long time. Think about that, as a single mom, you don't get to be in the passengars seat much, & the back seat almost never. Ok, mind back on the task. So while Michael was trying to hold my hands down from grabbing Alex to show him how to drive and covering my mouth ,with a third hand that came out of no where, so I would stop making those noises I recall my  mother making constantly, Nick was steady at the helm with the GPS in hand. I had no idea my #1 son had no concept of what a mile was. " turn here?"  #2: " No in a mile". 2 seconds later,  #1: " Ok so this turn?"
 #2 " No now it's in .8 miles"  Pretty sure if #1 has no idea what a mile is, .8 miles is also lost on him. I really had no idea, kind of like when they say " In a minute" in a hospital~ unless you have been there before you do not realize that hospital minutes are 1=45 of non-hospital minutes. Up until recently a MILE was what he had to run  once a year for a fitness test and wanted to do it in less that 6 minutes. Now a little black rectangle is telling him his next turn is in this forgein term of measurement. Must be hard.

So we get to the resturant, have a wonderful dinner and are getting ready to leave. Nick looks at me and says, " If Alex is driving home would you sit in the front? I don't like being afraid for my life." I looked between my two young men, who are truly now two young men. Nick turned to Alex and said " You drive to fast and follow too close  like REALLY, where are you going? give them room! and you wait way too long before you break when you are coming up on a car in front of you." Spoken like a true ...little brother? Old Soul? Parent? He turned back to me and said, " I found myself stepping on the floor in front of me like I wish I had a brake there I could use" ( thought that was  a parent thing, guess it's instinct)
     Alexs' outraged response was " I haven't gotten into an accident yet"~ as if  ~ as if. Teen logic. I'm not dead so I guess everything I have done thus far is okay. Scary what we parents of teens are working with.
She didn't get pregnant last time we didn't use a condom so I guess we don't have to use one this time.. I didn't die last time I drank and drove so I think I can do it again, I obviosuly have skills others don't. I didn't hit a rock and crack my head open last time I bridge jumped so I bet it's all something parents make up to stop us from having fun, and there's no real rocks under the water. Scary. But it's what we've got.
       I hand over the taxi keys and watch all 6 legs of my life pack into the car of someone capable of killing them all in one moment of bad decision making. I breathe a sigh of relief that I can sit home and finally read some of my old Oprah magazines that are pileing up while I have been running the taxi service. Maybe with a glass of wine to take the edge off of the thought in the first line of this paragraph.

On-line dating

The world of online dating is complicated when you are a therapist. I found this out shortly after I was divorced when one of my clients found my profile on a dating site and inboxed me through it to ask to change his appointment time. When you are supposed to be, at times, not much more than a reflecting mirror, the last thing I needed was to have my personal life, and lame attempts at explaining " What I am looking for in a partner", and all the goofiness profiles ask you to lay out there, read by someone who was coming in to pay me to hear his life's trauma. He now knew too much and the balance shift was uncomfortable. I enjoy being a little, a lot, anonymous with my clients. Two seperate worlds- works for me:-).

Then there was the experience of when I had stopped at a deli to grab a snack with my boys prior to dropping them at their dad's house. A man recognized me from the site. I did not used my name in it, but a profile Id, he assumed it was related to my real name and started calling for me across the deli. I did not respond because, well he wasn't calling my name. So he walked over and asked me about the site, and if I was who he thought I was. Mind you my three elementary aged kids are hip high around me. I told him I was, but I was not able to chat at that time as I had the kids & was getting a snack then dropping them off. He did not take the hint. He stood near me trying to talk about how weird it was "that we bumped into each other at this place", and we should really talk. Meanwhile my little cubs were wondering why they didn't have mom's attention & who this intrusive guy was. As I was paying for their snacks, he said, " Now say 'Thank you' to your mom boys". And still asked if we could get together .I am sure it was coming from a well meaning place. After I dropped off the kids I went home and took my profile down again. ick.

I was off the market for a while, but am back semi-looking. My good friend Sue found someone right after her last child got their driver's license, she said it could not have worked out any better. I have a feeling it will be that way for me too. It's way too complicated to mesh three teenaged boys with any other type of family, or maybe I just like how things are running here just fine. Besides Nick's has been after me to become a foster mom for an  infant, and I am seriously considering it. Now that's a date breaker for sure.
Perhaps I need a little more time just here, just us , just enough.

But Chemistry.com is free this weekend, and looking can't hurt.

Define rude....

Getting my teeth cleaned is right up there with my yearly Gyn visit. Although I adore my midwife and can talked to her happily ignoring what she has to do. The dental hygienist is a different story. I do not like being held hostage in the chair being forced to listen to every stray thought that decides to meander through her head to the back ground noise of tartar being scraped from my teeth. And it takes energy, serious energy for me to say nothing, or grunt appropriately at intervals.
Today's rant went something like, " Do you read for yourself or for a book club?" she asks while it is impossible for me to answer between the two hands she has stuffed in my mouth. I brought the book to give off the idea of not wanting to engage in conversation. I sat there wondering if it would be rude to bring Walkman, yeah that was my first though should I bring a Walkman next time, then I realized it's not 1980 and I would be bringing my ipod nano with me. But is that rude, to overtly let someone know you do not want to chat it up with them.
Had I brought my ipod today, or at least headphone cause I could have plugged my phone it to my head I guess, I would have missed this titillating tidbit:

" I need to get a life, ha HUH! but I really don't have time to read. I like to read books that they are going to make into movies you know? I think they never make the movie as good  as the book and I like to rip it apart. Like "The Help", that movie was no where near as good as the book. Well I can't actually say that because I never actually saw the movie."  I would have missed that. I didn't bother telling her how many awards that amazing movie won.

So just to be clear, it would be rude of me to in anyway express to this young woman that I have zero interest in chatting while she is in my mouth, unless it is about my mouth? WHY would I be rude? Why isn't she rude for polluting the air with her silly rants?

For all I know you think I am polluting the world with my rant here. Well you don't have to read it. I am not holding you in a chair for 45 minutes with metal instruments scraping away at your mouth. And I am truly sorry if it feels like I am. :-)

Old Souls New Souls

I was raised Catholic but since my late teens, for a variety of reasons, have not settled in one religion. For a while, when the kids were young, we were members of the Unitarian Church. It was mostly because of the minister, warmth exuded from her and she officiated the " Welcoming" or my first son. She left and another pastor, who did not exude the same warmth, but officiated for the other two took over, then we moved. We tried a few other places of worship, none that have grabbed my commitment. This is not to say I am not spiritual. I talk to God daily. Mostly when he lovingly wakes me up a moment before the alarm goes off, and sometimes when I forget to set the alarm, he wakes me up in time to make sure the kids aren't late  I truly appreciate that. And the sunrise out my bedroom window, and many other blessing, such as my kids' health etc. I certainly like the idea of Heaven, that I will again see those I love and have lost. I haven't figured out how reincarnation fits into all this, but I have to believe it does.

Clearly there are old and new souls in the world. Nick, for example, I am pretty sure was Elvis. At 3 he had the whole lip and pelvis thing going. Now  you tell me, how? Who has that down at three? He certainly wasn't exposed to it on Sesame Street, Arthur, or Blue's Clues. Yet, there he was lip quivering and pelvis gyrating whenever I brought the video camera out. Plus his wisdom is way beyond his years, his social finesse..yeah he's been here before.
Then there's Alex, well, I am pretty sure he's a new soul. Which, while providing loads of dinner time chuckles, makes me a bit more protective and concerned for him. Here's an example: While dealing with the power outages last fall, he walked into the garage & exasperatedly asked " whose's brilliant idea was it to leave the cars in the garage? Now we can't get  them out!" Now this could be explained by lack of "prior knowledge", that's a big term they use in school these days, it's about what YOU the student already bring to the academic table, and as bright as my #1 is ( seriously he has a 4.0) he's a little short in this area. And I can only blame it on him being a first timer here on earth.
He had an assignment in 5th grade, ( which I thought was horrible) he had to write what he would do if he came downstairs one morning and found a note from his parents that they had left, and would be backed at some time in the future, some money would hypothetically left on the counter as well.( really who does that to a ten year old?) Alex's essay was about how he would hold up in his bedroom & wait, or die which ever came first...7 years later I'm not real sure his answer would be much better. Except he'd play that swearing rap crap really loud in the whole house.
Last week he had to make dinner for his Culinary class. " Do we have a skillet?" he asks, " Um really?" I think. I show him the skillet, on the stove, that he has watched me make tacos, meat sauce, fried chicken, chicken stir-fry, eggs etc in for years. A few minutes later he asks me, " Do we have a cutting board/?" I just hug him. It's not his fault he's a first timer.
Michael is a different story all together. He possesses a spiritual quality that is impossible to describe until you experience it, so I think he is pretty far along the reincarnation scale. He has a wisdom of the ages, and is a moral compass of love that puts me to shame at times. What the poor soul did to end up as the youngest in this family is beyond me.