There's another star in the sky tonight

One of the ten most important women in my life passed away. She suffered for a long time, and lived a long full life, yet I ache.

I was told about her before I met her. I was told, " If you want to be a great therapist, you go to Southern." Tales of the tough, no nonsense program director spread like any good gossip, and created a charged atmosphere that I am pretty sure she enjoyed. I was 22 when I went for the interview, with her grad assistant, not with her, but she had to maneuver around the chair near the grad assistant's desk where I was. After the third maneuver, she looked at me and said, "You are in my way!" I was shocked, (it was their set up) and amused, and scared. I am pretty sure I spent the next four years, as my respect and admiration for her grew, vacillating between those emotions.
 Barbara sparkled. When she was pleased or excited, like if someone replenished the fireballs, she sparkled. When you "got" a concept you had struggled with, she sparkled, or she walked away to let you absorb it without your ego needing her admiration.

She challenged me, she spoke the truth. She supported me. She showed me options I did not know existed. She taught me a math game to help keep minds sharp, and was hers ever! She was funny. She delighted me with stories of child rearing, I felt like I had a glimpse of Divine getting to listen to her. She cared about people, and worked for the children, and the children's children.

I remember after one of my last one way mirror sessions ( I'm the therapist with the couple on one side, a group of students & Barbara on the other), we would follow up with brief supervision meetings. I was nervous, as I always was with Barbara behind the one way, she could require you to justify why you did anything you did in session. She walked away & said, " I have nothing to say." I was confused, oh yeah, I spent a good deal of time confused, just one of many spots on the road to growth. Pats on the back were not handed out, but not needing to go over a session, that was about as good as it got, (I was told by a more experienced student.) I had spent four years challenged, confronted, supported and respected. & I had the time of my life.
After I graduated, I was able  to have Barbara continue to supervise me. It was such a blessing. She was this first person I told I was pregnant, and the one I told about my ambivalence of being pregnant.  She responded," I expect nothing but complete honesty from you, you are incapable of anything else. Most women would not want to admit that." And after 28 years of being told I was supposed to be " Nice" Barbara, indirectly,  helped me find my inner bitch, and assured me every woman should have control over hers as a very necessary part of oneself. She met my boys, I know they will never remember, I wanted her to see them. And them to be near the woman who made me a better mother than I could have ever hoped to be without knowing her.
After I stopped working I kept in touch via Christmas cards & emails. And a yearly thank you note I would send after I attended yet another conference that taught me just how much she already taught me. She was always there when I needed words of wisdom, support or  a reality check. She seemed to always be there at challenging times of my life. She read a tribute I wrote about my grandmother after she passed away, and said, she can only hope someone would have such wonderful things to say about her at her time. I can't hope to effect the thousand's of people Barbara's life effected, but I will try for hundreds, in her honor.
And last Thursday, when my 8 am client said about a challenging conversation, " & I heard your voice in my head". I smile knowingly. I am blessed to have Barbara's voice in my head, I hope to have a spec of her wisdom in my brain, and a portion of her ability to love in my heart. And when I am feeling a little sloppy as therapist, I pretend I have to justify my every move to her, and she makes me a better person.

Calling Red Tenters

I know a lot of you read this, but don't follow it or comment on it. Good thing there is a counter & I know close to 8000 reader's have checked out what I write. My brother's would assume I keep reading myself over & over again to drive up the numbers. But I know you are out there, so I  am looking for help, and it was too much to put in a comment on Facebook.
A dear friend of mine, after 18 years of raising her son, told me , upon the moment of release at college, "I had nothing, 18 years of raising him; this is the moment, sending him off to the world, & I was blank. So I hugged him and said, "Be good". " BE GOOD! that's all I could come up with. Then I cried the whole way home."
Ice ran through my veins. I've already imagined Nick driving and Michael keeping me in constant supply of puffs as we drive back from the drop off, but I hadn't considered the " MOMENT". I don't have a lot of Momisms for the kids to live by. There's not gonna be " My momma always said.." except for a favorite spanish idiom that the kids swear does not mean what I told them it meant. " Aunque le mone se vista de seda, mona se queda". It is a huge stress reliever when said with real emotion, even if it means nothing.
I decided I am going to prepare. I am going to give that highly charged emotional moment its proper due.So I am going to thank him for the ride. And I have decided there's not just one comment I can leave him with, so I am making a full calendar for him. If your mom or dad gave you a gem of wisdom, please leave the comment for me, I plan on filling everyday in his freshman year.

Jane's been sending me some. Please add your thoughts!

WWYD?

So this whole it takes a village thing. I love it, I believe in it, and I am wondering to what extent it goes. What would you do?

One of my son's friends was given alcohol, which he showed to my son. OK, I am going light , he brought it, with my son's permission, over. Luckily they decided not to partake & were discovered, cause my kids are pretty bad at being bad. His father & I handled our son, and after my encouragement, his father made sure the other family was made aware of their child's actions. I would want to know.

Dear Newtownians,
     If you see any of the Roche children step over the line, feel free to both reprimand them,  & then PLEASE call me.

Thanks,
Cathy

But what about the older teen who gave my son's friend the alcohol. I want that name. I want his/her parents to know. I want to assume, they would want to know that their kid gave alcohol to a 14 year old.
My son's friend is clammed up, but he'll want to come over sooner or later and he will have to look me in the eye, I'm thinking I can get it out of him, but should I?

If I don't I feel like I am part of the turn your head & look the other way society. If I do.....I risk being seen as an even worse "that Mom" than the kids already see me as. & rippled social effects on my kids.

Thoughts???
Sorry no pictures, not feel it tonight.

Wonders of the world

 I had to go all the way to Puerto Rico to get back into my blog. For some reason in CT I have been locked out.. I apparently had to go all the way to Puerto Rico to see Nick willingly read a book, Alex cuddle Michael, and some other wonders of the world!

This has simply been one of the best vacations of my life. Except for the sibling rivalry which apparently came with our carry-ons, and started on the the plane when #3 did not get the window seat he wanted. & #1&#2 thought he was fair game to use as their joint pillow. Luckily my ditziness tends to keep their focus elsewhere ( like their own personal safety) most of the time. This trip started with me misplacing my car keys in the JFK parking lot at 4:30 in the morning. We dumped every bag I handled in order to find them. Which made us late, way late like, as the nice flight attendant said to me as I ran onto the place " You almost lost your seat", I glanced back to a family of four eying me like hyenas at the watering hole. The door shut behind my rushing ass. not a good sign.
But we got here and packed so much into a week. When my kids were little I was discouraged that they did not enjoy the beach as I did, well, no longer true. Yeah! And we hiked ( and they didn't complain) 45 minutes straight up ( and they didn't complain) and they saved Michael from non fatal or potential drowning, yet they reached out their arms to him, and that counts as something. And we Zip lined, and saw Flamenco dancers, we did not died in a car accident, which is nothing short of a miracle they way these people drive.
We kayaked, in the dark, with only glow bracelets showing the way, under trees with thick branches jutting out, and we didn't kill each other. And my kids saw family dynamics first hand in our fellow passengers, and had thoughful comments " Why would you spend the money to do something like this drunk out of your head? What a waste of money, they won't even remember it!"
And the stoic Alex talked a lot, and smile, and sang & for a little while I had my boy back, before school takes him away, and then college really takes him away. & they walked with their arms around me, and we had conversations about politics and morals, and health & sexuality ( & once again I am saying Newtown School system, you give them too much information when they are too young to process it!, by virtue of the conversation he had at dinner the other night.)
And then there was the best line of the week, as I missed the exit to our hotel and was struggling to find our way back. Nick says" Oh I recognize this place!" " You do? I ask, hopefully. " Yeah," he says, " it's called Lost, we've been here a thousand times before."
And while I missed my friends and was at times frustrated with the boys, I am sure when I am away with my friends in a few weeks, I will wish my boys were with me again.

Still waters run deep

So I do at times poke fun at #1 son on here. He is the least talkative of my children. Observes more than engages. At times comes off as awkward even with people he knows well, or at least for a long time. Plus he has that missing connections thing. Like when he asked me if we had a skillet or cutting board before making his Culinary project for school. I know I am not a "cook" but I do have to cook, and he has eaten what has been made in the skillet and on the cutting board.The kitchen is right here in the open, not behind some closed door. I would expect him not to know if I had facial moisturizer, although he does know I have that.  We, the other three of us who get the obvious, exchange knowing looks, and wonder about his independence at college.
And then, and then out of know where he says something that lets me know, in that head of his, he is paying attention. He is putting things together. He is going to be OK, and I am relieved.
#3 was having some issues at school. The regular who is "in" and who is "out" stuff everyone ages 11-14 painfully deals with. I of course ( internally) respond most inappropriately wanting to coddle my baby, and physically harm those who have scorned him. ( It is all internal folks. trust me)  Externally I have him list ALL the kids he likes, not just the 6 who turned their backs on him this week, and he hopefully sees the world is bigger than these boys, this school, this town etc...But inside I still hurt for for him.
I also, being a systems therapist, look at how he is treated by his big brothers and see how being left out is a position he has become accustom to, and is perhaps unknowingly recreating for himself, but I digress. In talking to #1 about the current issue and asking him about his own experiences he simply says, " He ( #3) is telling himself he is not as good as them just because they did this. You have to choose your own attitude."
This is not one of my sayings. I have sayings, a few, but this is not one of them, and I am so impressed with #1 I almost do something as foolish as throw my arms around the timid creature, but I know if I want him within my general vicinity at all I must proceed with caution. So I gently slap his leg in glee and ask him where he got that from. He just shrugs his shoulders (the typical adolescent response to anything from, Where's your pants? to How did the dent get in the car?)
Maybe he won't starve to death in college after all.

Making rookie mistakes

Why isn't this called a therdadeter?

I cannot say the number of times I wished I had the knowledge of a pediatrician while I have been a mom. Starting from the first humiliating days when Alex's had his first cold. Now remember, it was my job to keep this kid alive and I took that responsibility very seriously. So when he was all of 9 pounds and sniffling and runny nosey and unhappy ( which with a colic child is very difficult to discern from their everyday unhappiness) I took him to a Saturday appointment at the doctor. You know it is serious if it's a Saturday appointment cause they charged extra for that and we were just newly a one income family. So we went, and the doctor said, " Why are you here?" They really need to work on the non-condescending tone. " Oh," She says, " this is your first child ( half question, half statement all condescension) he has a cold." So okay  a newbie mistake. We left the practice. I know too much to be spoken to like that, even if I don't know the difference between a life threatening stuffy nose and the common sniffles. A few months later, a new pediatrician. Alex had been very congested for a while ( they tried to tell me I should stop breastfeeding ( even I knew that was the wrong answer) ) and his congestion turned into a runny nose. On the phone with the Doctor and when I reported the change with excitement, the Dr commented, and I remember this " It's not as if something was stuck up there and it's now been dislodged and is allowing the mucus to flow". I thought that was a little over the top of him. How am I supposed to know the ins and outs of mucus and congestion, I am a licensed marriage & family therapist, NOT a pediatrician. I bet I could have told him a thing or two about his family life had I had them in a room together too, but I know enough not to do it in such a way that makes people feel stupid.

Fast forward 16 years, we have had multiple stitches,  adenoids removed, a car accident requiring an ambulance ride, several surgeries and more stitches ( in one week) an MRI, allergic reactions requiring speed-limit driving police to take us to the hospital., a drilled finger nail, glasses, a hearing loss scare, broken bones and strained ligaments, and the good ol' air-soft pellet to the eye. So a few weeks ago I notice one of #3's eyes was red, well pink. He had no itching or complaints of pain. I thought it odd, but he wasn't complaining. 3 weeks go by and still no change, so I start to wonder if one of the horrible side effects from last summer's eye trauma was happening behind the scene, so I make an appointment.
Turns out a pink eye means well um, pink eye. He wasn't trying to make me feel stupid, he actually reassured me it is a variation one doesn't often think about. My son  on the other hand, siting my 17 years of experience in motherhood, shook his head at me as we walked out of the eye doctor's office.
And as I do whenever these situations come up, I wished triplet girls on him.

HE smiled at me.

It's Prom season in Newtown. And this is not the Prom's of the 80's. Just logistically it is so very different. Rare is the Junior who has had his license long enough to drive his date. Plus with the 11 pm  car curfew, I am confident there won't be groups of kids camping out at Compo beach overnight like back in the day. ( I was the 4th kid, my parents were tired)
So these teens have the ever classy bus to drive them to their destination with Mom & Dad providing the driving too and from. I'm not complaining, I am sure there will be far less drinking & driving, & other activities teens like to engage in ( or at least that is what I am telling myself.)
Another change is it is no longer "The Junior Prom" it's just called PROM. & the class doesn't spend money sending out invitation that have been picked & designed by the class officers, (secretly also mentally preparing for their weddings) You just simply go and buy your tickets. Rather anticlimactic. I don't even know if there's a Prom theme, or if they will be getting those tacky engraved glasses we gave out.  Perhaps this is a more eco-friendly time. How many prom glasses have made their way to dumps after bouncing through tag sales?
Also different is how the asking goes. Apparently THIS is the big deal, the way to express the individuality taken by the restraints placed on the students. I have heard of a scavenger hunt, a T-Shirt laden group of minions propose at a local basketball game. I was thrilled to be asked for ideas by #1.
He asked me how I was asked. It was unceremonious but exciting each time. We ran through a few different possible scenarios the weekend before Valentines day, knowing V-Day would be the day of the asking. Settled on a Valentine Pez dispenser where a candy was replaced by a note with the word "Prom?" on it. He had to feign inability when his date to be asked him to do a forward flip on her trampoline for fear it would fall out of his pocket prematurely. It must have been hard for him not to display his physical prowess, for fear of exposure. Ultimately the deed was done.
We've been fighting about whether or not moms of the males are allowed at the group picture taking session. He insists it's a moms of females only thing. I have no idea where he gets his ideas from but this is the same kid who, a mere 4 weeks ago asked me if we owned a cutting board and skillet.  I insist if I don't go, he will be mad at himself for the rest of his life because I will remind of  it for the rest of his life.
I did get to take him for his Tux. After introducing him to the salesman, I stepped back & let them get the male type work done. Until, until he put on the jacket, and stepped in front of the mirror. And he turned to me, and smiled.