What have I (We) done?

I say "I" because it is personal. I say "we" because I know I am not alone. I have too many young adult clients who echo the words I have heard in my own home. Is it possible we have create a generation of young people who think the good times of their life have tapped out at 18? Time and time again I hear clients ask, "What's the point?" (of living). Just today a young woman, a bright, graduated early with an engineering degree type of bright, young woman who said " I don't know how my parents have done this for 30+ years, work 9 hours a day, go home exhausted and go to bed so they can do the same thing tomorrow, I did it for a summer and I couldn't stand it." She is currently taking some time off from Grad school. I have heard in my own home, "You work to pay bills, to work to pay bills". I know I am lucky and LOVE my work, so it seldom feels like work, I hope I have conveyed that accurately.But that hasn't seemed to make a difference. My droning about " Doing something you love so it doesn't feel like work" is as effective as the cheer squad calling a " Block-that-Kick" cheer. It sounds nice, but has nothing to do with the outcome. I remember as a 14 year old looking enviously at the Junior girls with their car keys flipping around in their hands. I could not wait to get my license and walk the halls of the school with the confidence I decided those older girls must have. Yet, I have nieces and nephews with NO desire to get drive a car. I also remember being so excited about getting older and freer, able to make my own decisions and do what I want. I started collecting kitchenware in preparation for my own apartment when I was 16 (I do know that was odd). I couldn't wait to stay up as late as I want, not have to tell someone where I was going to be, and did not have a problem having to pay for it on my own. There were lean months, when tuition was due, ramen noodles and budgeting for food was key.I knew it was going t be work, and hard and I COULD NOT WAIT! Now I find many young people who are disenchanted with what life has to offer. Have we made them think the best years are behind them? I, like most people in my community, have spent the better part of the past decade with my life built around the needs of my children. Sports practices that begin at 5 pm (Hello, we are still at the office!),causing people to scramble to adjust their WORK schedule for their children's schedule. Games that take place in the mornings during traditional religious worship times (not a factor for my family, but I am sure others). I have seen families pay more than they can afford to take a 10 year olds to football championships in Florida! Our behavior elevates their importance, the importance of recreational sports, over family time. We take them out of school for these events, out of school, for a sporting event, for days..... When will they get to, in their adult world, get to miss work to play with their friends, for days, all expenses paid? I have had a nephew who had to cancel a college visit, because, while his school allows for missing days to check out a college, his position on his team was endangered if he missed a practice?? WTH? What is the message we are giving them? Why are we giving it? Is it effective in the way we want it to be? I will never say my marriage failed because it was a backseat to the children, it's actually because of the children that it lasted as long as it did. I do, though, have plenty of clients who tell me, "of course" their marriage comes after the children's needs. They make sure they spend time with their children, and do family things with their parental counterpart. They have forgotten, it's because of that counter-part that the children are there to begin with. I hear that they don't know what their children would do for 20 minutes or so that they can talk to their husband/wife privately, daily. Or they have not gone out on a date, they have not shown their children that every once in a while you get dressed nice and spend alone time with the person you fell in love with, and THEY stay home and watch a movie with the babysitter or Au pair ( www.croche.aupairnews.com). If children get the message that THEY are the most important people in the family, what's to grow up to? Becoming the not most important person? Having to give up what you like for your children? Is it a wonder we have a generation who is more comfortable making the commitment to have a child than they are making a commitment to a marriage? How have we made the idea of committing to one person look like it's a benefit? I know for myself, one failed long term relationship after my divorce made me commit to children first until they were grown. I didn't want them to experience another loss in case a relationship didn't work, yet I wonder what that decision made them believe about relationships.

I am alone in that car now. All three boys have achieved levels of independence that I can count on two hands the number of times we are all in a car together. I am very much thinking the best is yet to come for myself. I did have a ball when my children were young (true confessions, adolescent years will never go down as my favorite or best mothering). I just know now that I am more sure of myself, more open about possibilities and eager and able to knock off some bucket list items. I know my future will be more about me than the last 50 years have been, and I am excited about that. I hope that energy helps my sons see that adulthood can be awesome.

Warning Explicit Parental Screw up ahead

I messed up, messed up fairly big. It has taken me months to be willing to acknowledge it. The cost was a bit of integrity and humiliation. I can pay that. I still have lots of the first and a huge capacity for the second in me. It started as a innocent enough idea. I had seen interviews with an Author on several occassions. I liked what I had heard. Knowing my children have had little to no experience in seeing a healthy functional relationship between partners, I have for years tucked the name of his book in the back of my mind, trying to figure out the correct time and way to share it with my boys. As any parnt of a teen knows, just talking about ceertain subjects, especially during the " my parents are so stupid years", is not an option. NO amount of saying, " hold the door for a girl," " Give a girl compliments" " Ask if there is anything you can do" can replace watching it happen in real life. So I had this book idea. When #1 left for college several people asked what they could send him. I will leave out names to protect the innocent, as she was truly an innocent in this debacle, but one dear friend said they didn't want to spend $15 to send a box of $3 rammen noodle, entirely reasonable. So I said 'There's a book I've been wanting him to have, I think it's on Amazon, here's his address" And it was done... A few hours later, I had a minute to look inside the book, something I had never thought to do before. That's when I realized what my dear friends had innocently sent my son was a manual on sex, oral sex to be exact. In a panic I called her, between her laughing hysterics, we both went on to Amazon to try to stop it, Damn Amazon, so efficient.... She was also a little upset with me, I truly do not always do my homework. Which I'm sorry she should know, forgotten passports, wrong airports, I do not exactly have a reputation for attention to detail. She texted my son and said "The wrong book was sent out, please discard it". And that was that. It was not spoken of, I assumed he got the book. My friend assumes my son now sees her as a dirty old lady. and I would like to never recall the incident again. Until, Until he was home for Christmas and these two very important people in my life were going to be in the same room at the same time and she, rightfully so, insisted I confess. So I brought my son into my office, the room where all important conversations take place. And I paced, and he looked at me quizically, and I said, "I owe you an apology.... " I recounted the entire story what I had hoped( thought) the book was about, having it sent off, reading some of the book, discovering it's true intention, my embarassment. He said ' I think you are making too much of a big deal about this, My friends & I just looked at the pictures then I got rid of it." My heart stopped. There were pictures? He showed his friends? OMG... What type of reputaion does Mrs. Roche & her friends have down at JMU? If you want the name of the book, let me know...

One less passenger in the car

driving off on his own

He's off. After a flat tire start to the day, my first born was delivered to JMU, his new home for four years. To be honest, I am doing better than I thought I would, and better than he thought I would too, as he told me in front of his roommates family. " I thought she'd be worse" was the quote.
I have a few idea why I don't feel the earth beneath my feet has given way. First and quite incidentally, #2 started moving into #1's room before we even left the driveway. Looking back this was a good thing, I ran into another recently launched mom and she said the worst was walking by his empty room. Not an issue here.
And as you know I am a big fan of Mother Nature. She prepared us brilliantly. The day before he left I was helping him pack, " Oh I only have 7 pair of underwear", " NOW!, TODAY! you tell me this!" I not so calmly responded. " Today is the day I am packing" was his very calm reply incensing me all the more. Just then a friend texts me asking how it was going. My text back was " My sadness is tempered by my desire to ring his neck". I also called his dad, who was on stand by to help load the van and suggested he come sooner rather than later as there may be No child to send to college if I was left alone with him for much longer.
I also changed my room around, and painted for the first time in my life ( lame I know), and planned a dinner with friends, and sobbed sometimes, and signed up for trainings I have long wanted to do but was too busy parenting to have time for.
Making lunch for two hurt the first time, and the first time we sat down for dinner I noticed the dog was missing. Instead of her usual spot between Alex's chair and my own, she was upstairs lying by his bed in his new room. She knows. I wish I could bring her down when we go to visit in 34 days (who's counting?), but alas not possible.
#2 has taken over Alex's request for a picture a day of the dogs, and I am trying very hard to own my mother's mantra of " No news is good news".  And there are times, with our own busy lives that it feels right to have things the way they are. Then I heard his voice and had to hang up cause I started to cry. I am not sure how long I can go without laying eyes on my son, but we have not settled into a routine yet, he needs a week or two to get the feel of the place before I ask more of him, it's just how he works. We have sent pictures of food we have eaten, he has complained about the " girls" umbrella I packed for him, it was brown not black (who knew?) . He's already made plans to not come straight home at Thanksgiving break ( deep breath, don't let him hear your gasp), and he has figured out a whole lot. I am happy for him, and that beats my sad any day of the week, even if the car is a little lighter.
,

So I guess this is it then

7 days and counting til my oldest bird is out of the nest. This is the moment right? The one I was supposed to be thinking about and striving for since 11:03am  on February 17, 1995. Since the Dr with the red rimmed glasses handed the messy bundle over to me, who, with his blurry newborn eyes, established and intense " Are you my mother?" stare at me.
I have certainly seen the back of his head way more than I have seen his beautiful brownish eyes in the past four years. I guess just getting ready for next week. lots of practice, I have had with not seeing his face.
This is the moment I have been getting him ready for, to make his own decisions. Like when he was three and had two weeks of no daytime diapers and when getting ready for bed one night said to me, " Do I have to wear a diaper to bed?" and I said, " Well if you are ready to not wet your bed you can go without one," and he replied," OK, I am ready" and he was. It's amazing how my mind remembers these details and yet has lost so many others.

This is the moment he has been pulling for since the day he was 12 and working on my computer in my office and I asked him for something and his reply was 'It's MY life!". And I covered my smile with my hand because I wanted that movement to independence for my far too compliant and obedient first born.

And yet, while on vacation last week, the snarly, impatient mini~monster I have been tolerating made room for my boy to come back to me, with his out of no-where bear hugs and goofy " Mudder" when he wanted my attention. I know we will be in each others lives, and I know the importance of the parent child relationship, heck I make a living helping people who have decades ago left home unravel the ties that bind them to their parents. I also know, things will never be the same again. That the seat to my right at the table, where my oldest grunted at me for so long, or tolerated my game of  " High's & Low's"or sat when we played Golf or Hearts will be empty. And when he does return to resume his place he will be different, He will have had experiences I am sure I do not want to hear about for at least 5 years. And I will be different, having found my bearings after the nest tipped from the weight of him leaving it. We will have to find a place for him again that does not unbalance all of us.

#2 is ready to pounce on his room, it is practical, yet feels too soon, Plus#1 is refusing to take down his " decorations", which amount to several hundred carefully cut out pictures from his sports illustrated magazines. There are moments I cannot breathe. "He He Hwoo" isn't cutting it, like it didn't cut it 18 1/3 years ago.

I have fretted for years over what my parting words to him will be, something meaningful that he will surely forget in his anxiety filled state I was thinking,, but now I think, no. This is good. This is what we worked for, this is what I hoped for for him. It has been a pleasure.

It does look like she pushed him a little bit, must have been one of those defiant days

Generations

My son graduated high school today. I've been crying about his impending move on and off for a few months now, broken up by passionate packing of his belongings, when he drives me crazy, to hasten his trip. I imagine the same thing is happening in houses across the country, the world.
This morning, as I was getting ready I felt like the Long Island medium. I wore my grandmother's bracelet on purpose. I wanted her close today. I got more than I bargained for. For most of the early morning, I could not stop crying, and I felt such a pressure in my body. I wrestled with what kept looping in my head for a good 45 minutes. "He already thinks you are wierd, this will build his case." I said to myself. " Stop! Just stop!" I admonished the pressure and the tears, but they kept up. I tried to relieve a bit of the pressure by hugging him before we got in the car. I told him, "your great -grandfather could not finish high school, as smart as he was, with his eye on being a doctor. His family needed money and in those days, that meant quitting school and going to work. This is why today is important."  It helped only for a little while.

As we got on the highway the tears and the pressure resurfaced. It seemed inevitable, that as crazy as my son was going to decide I was, I had to tell him. I had to say the words I was being compelled to express from a different place and time.
So finally between exits 8 and 7 on I-84, I said, " Nanna and Pop-pop are so proud of you and they would be so happy to be able to be here with you today." He looked at me sideways, I'm confident he was thinking "Why didn't I catch a ride with my friends?" I felt like I had to explain myself a little. I told him." What you  do, what all of us do, while we think it is for our life here and now, it is actually for the future, for our grandkids and great grandkids down the line." I felt an immediate relief and we were quiet the rest of the ride to the stadium.
 What he did, Vincent Amedeous Baldassari, sacraficing his education for the good of his family was a lesson,  and he worked hard and had an amazing, world-traveling life inspite of his early sacrafice. And as you can see from the picture, he was a loving Great- Grandfather. I can hear the noise he was making to make Alex laugh as I type. They are alike, my stoic son and my stoic grandfather.
May his wisdom and strength guide you and support you in your adventures Alex. They would have been so pleased and proud.

Natural Child Launching

I do believe life is a circular. What you had visited you will visit again.

I gave birth to my children naturally. I did it for a variety of reasons, none of which were about being Superwoman. Most honorably I did it because I did not want drugs in my child, I also did not want drugs in myself ( I never feel good under anethesia) I did not want to miss a moment of this miracle and  the idea of someone sticking a needle in my back is enough to bring up my gag reflex even this morning, 15 years after my last child was born. I can honestly say the pain was so bad I wanted to die, 6 times, I counted. So I expected it with each subseqent pregnancy, and I have convinced myself I can count through anything. Plus the nature of child birth, of rest time inbetween the pain, made it, in my mind, tolerable. Then he had colic for three months and my patience were tried beyond what I would have thought was humanly possible.

 I am currently reassessing a few of my previously held premises. Or atleast reevaluating under the current parental challenge. I am  getting ready to launch an adoescent into college life. I would say Adulthood, but that would be a lie. He is still dependent on his father & me financially, so "college life" is as much as I will acknowledge. The pain associated with this process, while never reaching the "wanting to die " level, it atleast equivelant to a total body sunburn. I just can't get away from it. I try, I ran away last night, all the way to Big Y, where I spent my time buying things for THEM. I suck at running away.

My house is not one for the drama of " I hate you, " You are ruining my life", slamming doors and stomping feet. Ours is more like the cold war of the 80's. The silence is piercing. The tension is palpable. And I cannot stand it. I cannot count through it, and quiet honestly I think I will be just fine if I don't remember all of it.  As a family therapist, I understand it all. But unlike knowing when the wave of a contraction will build and ebb, this provides no break. It is a constant rawness of Grand Canyon eske distance, in the same house. Getting them to sit for 20 minutes for dinner before each returns to their own cave, leaving me with the echos of the quiet kitchen is torturous, for me. I realize some would find this a blessing.

What is reassuring is threetimes in the past week I have been told what a "nice kid" he is. I witnessed myself how he stayed behind and helped a girl pull a paddleboat out of the water,( while the only othermale in the group walked up the hill ahead of them) and I felt a swell of pride. In that moment saw both his great-grandfather and father in him. That I no longer have access to that side of him,the " nice" side is a good part of the pain. I know he is under a great deal of stress looking at leaving all he has ever known and venturing off into new waters, 7 hours from home, does nothing to comfort me when ever time I open my mouth I am met with  a clipped, sharp  you-are-so-annoying tone. I need a break from it.

Then there's this idea he has that one should be completely closed off. I am told literally nothing. I learn more from his friends than he would ever share. He has some ideas in his head that he needs to work out, and I know I cannot be part of it.

Whenever he really hurts me, I go pack a few more things for him to take to school. Atleast a little reminder that soon it will be over, and yet.
And yet I can only imagine this current pain will be replaced with another pain. I know it is easier to part when we are already distant. I don't want that for either of us.
My friends know, I am not a big drinker. Pathetic actually. Not that I do not enjoy a glass of wine on occassion. I do always struggle at the DR's office when filling out the frequency chart for drinking. There is no box to check for one glass every other month or so category. But two glasses will put me under, it's a liver thing I guess. I have decided though that some form of anethesia for the remainder of this launching sequence may not be a bad thing. Take the sting off the sunburn or such.

Endings

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CnQ8N1KacJc&feature=player_embedded

So a long time ago, as the world watched the last episode of  Seinfeld and this poignant song played in the background, I knew in my bones my marriage was over.I haven't told anyone that before, until today. It took another three years for my knowledge to become reality. But that night, standing in my living room with my newborn, a 20 month old and a 3 year old and the neighbor who came to watch with me because my husband had gone to VT, in an emergency jaunt to return a table to his father, something inside me knew. That emergency jaunt was a huge sign, we, like most,  had watched most of Seinfeld together over the course of our life. Missing the last one, the one the world turned into, yeah something was over. "Another turning point a fork stuck in the road." "Something unpredictable but in the end was right."
" yada yada yada, & I mentioned the bisque"

This week, Thursday to be exact, another TV show ends, coinciding with another ending in my life. The kids and I were late to " The Office". My brother Sean mentioned it to me one year at Christmas, we watched an episode or two but it was mean. I was still getting over how mean Napoleon Dynamite was, I wasn't ready for Dwight & Jim & Michael. Then, on a vacation when the kids needed to get out of the sun in the middle of the day, we got hooked. We looked forward to our "Office" siesta each day. So much so that when we came home, we Netflixed all the past seasons and marathon watched them.

This was back when Netflix was on computers, and we hunkered down in my office to my 18 inch desk top to watch back to back episodes from the end of school Friday to late Saturday night. On these nights, when I see my children's faces for all of 20 minutes over dinner, these memories are sweet.

Their bodies squeezing into the love seat with me, fighting over who gets to sit next to me, "HA "very different from the four of us and two dogs fighting for inches on my king sized bed, and compressing their bodies so as not to brush up against me by accident.

So we watched. We pulled " Jim's" on each other, we cheered for Pam & Jim to get together, we laughed at Dwight's blind devotion to Michael, we were blown away by the writing and creativity, we cried when Michael left (OK that was just me, but they wondered if it would still be as good), we worried about the fate of Pam & Jim's relationship when Brian the camera man seemed interested and Jim was busy with his new company.We talked about what it takes to make relationships work, even make believe ones. It brought us together for one night a week for half and hour. Nick watches when Matt is not around, for hours on end. We have several board games, a few T-shirts, Dwight squishy heads and know what episode is coming before the openning credits play.

And this week, it's over.
 And Alex is leaving.
 Not this week, but since " The Office" is one of the only things that anchors him to this house, and AP exams are over, I'm thinking I may be seeing the back of his head more than anything else soon.
This Thursday, I will savor every moment of the last two hours of "The Office", and the four of  us hunkered together in the same 6X6 space. I am confident I will cry, and they will role their eyes. This is a TV show ending for them, and a turning point for us as a family.
And I can honestly say I had the time of my life.

Must have done something good

I've been sick, have basically not left my bed since Saturday at 6 pm. What started as a sore throat ended up kicking my butt with body aches, congestion, dizziness and just general bluk, blah and other details not needed to share.
I don't get sick, well rarely, and when I do, I do not stay in bed, But I cancelled ten clients on Monday, so that shows how badly I felt. I'm not writing this to complain, but to celebrate my boys,
As the curmogenly adolescent angst is a constant present in my home. It is very nice to experience what I hope is the men they are becoming.
Michael stopped on a dine every time I texted him with " let dogs out/ in" " Puffs please"  " I need an ice pack" Can you put socks on my feet" He never complained, he kept his distance, but was Johnny on the spot when I asked for something. Even tried to turn that sock thing into a tickling situation, which was not well timed.

Alex was up at Uconn checking out that possibility. Nick was at a sleep over but I texted him when I woke up Sunday morning and realized I could not get out of bed. He came home immediately to check on me then went back out to CVS to tell the pharmacist my symptoms and get their recommendations for my medications. He brought them back to me and sat with me all day, while I slept fitfully on and off. Whenever I woke up, he was sitting there next to me, when he didn't have his own life to take care of. Right up to 8 o'clock when he normally goes in to bed. He texted with Adele expressing concern over my lack of appetite, and the calvary arrived with more food and drink than i could eat in a week. Nick stopped by again last night before going out on a date to check on me again, and just hung out with me for 15 minutes.
Alex checked in and asked if there was anything he could do for me, and Jane held me accountable for going to the dr and gave me things I need to be doing.

So even during moments of yuck, bluk and grosseess. Life is good.

fight with laughter

I've been quiet, I know. Since 12/14 I have focused on the wounded coming into my practice, my family's recovery, my friends', my town and my own. I felt that I had nothing significant to add. The common voice of reasonable guns laws booms loudly, mental health needs and acts of kindness are prominent and that is true and rightfully placed in center stage.  Then Boston happened. And you know what, I am done. I am done allowing the sadness to win. The lesson of "look for the strawberries" solidified. In all things we must look for the good, we must stay focused on the uplifting we must stay connected.

And we have to find ways to laugh, reasons to laugh. So here are a few of the moments that living this life, riding in cars with these boys, have brought to me.

My youngest, my poky puppy, as I like to call him, has long existed on a different plain from the New England stress fast paced existence of myself and his brothers. I see this as a good thing for him. Although I have been known to threaten to glue his shoes to his feet since he can never find them from afternoon when he gets home from school til the next morning. And I do not understand the missing beats in time between a request and it's execution, where he seems frozen just considering what has been asked of him. Along with his mellow approach to involvement in life, is his mellow approach to personal hygiene. Not to the point of public acknowledgement, until now, but certainly an issue in the family. On a particular day when he decided to ignore my suggestion to shower, I beseech ed him, to at least put on some deodorant. That evening, while watching one of "our" shows, he told me he thought he was allergic to the deodorant, it had burned his pits for the first three periods of the day. I paused for a nanosecond to consider this possibility, then I was overcome with laughter. I shook, and could not speak, He started laughing to with contagion but didn't know what we were laughing at. When I was able to regain composure, I asked him to go look at what he put on, I was pretty sure it was the Icy/Hot roll on gel I had purchased for him at Christmas. It was.

Then there was the time I was picking up my poky puppy from an event down the road. We were gone no longer than 15 minutes. In that time his brothers decided to work together and rearrange his bedroom in it's entirety, and hide his most revered possessions in Easter eggs that they placed around the room. Their high jinx did not end there. I was an intended victim of the old, rubber band the spray nozzle at the kitchen sink prank, only it was facing #2 son when it went off, LOL!!! And the trusted, yet poorly executed plastic wrap over the toilet prank, he used blue painters tape to secure the weather resistant window plastic wrap to the toilet.(~ he couldn't find the plastic wrap) And finally his older brother walked into a wall of plastic wrap when going into his closet, not sure what that was supposed to accomplish, but it all had us all laughing and giddy with anticipation of the next prank. Until, until I found my missing make-up and cell phone charger in a bowl of jello on April 3rd.

So I leave you with this, find things to laugh about. Laughter is healing. Laughter is an anecdote. And when you don't see them, create them. Or I can send my boys over for some poorly executed stunts. That's be fun too.

Here & Now

I have not blogged since the events of 12/14/12. At times I have had thoughts but nothing coherent. I have had rants, but did not feel it would be a positive addition to anything. I have had grief and despair, but nothing you have not had yourself. Today I had a thought I think I can speak to.

In addition to the lives that were lost, we talk about the innocence that was lost. Children, adults, police, EMT's seeing things, hearing things no one should have to see and hear. Our collective hearts ache for them.
The changes in them, crawling back into the saftey of mom & dad's bed at night, fears, the erie quiet some have come to wear like a cloak. I have talked with countless people about the grey they feel, the numbness, being frozen, or the darkness of their despair. And now, children who never gave life a second thought worry.
Some worry "he" will come back, into their school, their home, their room. He is already in their heads & nightmares. When talking of stealing of innocence, I am struck with what he took was our "here & now".
While we wonder, fear and worry about what will happen in our schools, we are projecting to the future. When we can't get to sleep at night, and are tossing and turning we are having nightmares of the past and or worrying about the future.
In my posts on facebook in the days and weeks following the murders I started most with "Breathe". I knew I was holding my breath, I felt it was a safe assumption you were too. By forcing ourselves to breathe & count, we force ourselves to be in the Here & Now. We feel the air come in through our nose, feel our chest expand, hear the sound of our breathe, are counting in our head. All Here & Now. And in that moment we are not in fear, or memory, we are Here.
Here & Now is/are ( someone help me with that one) the only place happiness exists. The only place peace exists. Our children, going through their day absolutley LIVE in the Here & Now. And as they get older we admonish them for it " Don't you THINK about the consequences before you make that decision?" " Didn't you plan for your homework this weekend, when it was assigned on Friday?". Because,as adults, we strive to live in the here & now while planning for the future. It a tough skill.
But little kids LIVE there, and it's where they are supposed to be, completely absorbed in learning, listening, finger painting, kickball. We need to support them, and ourselves to get back to the Here & Now,
Joy is healing. Joy hangs out in the Here & Now. So does Laughter.
I am not always there. I am struggling, at times, to get back to my center as well. But if we follow the children, if we allow them to show us how to get back to Here & Now, we will all be better off.

Eyes Wide Open

My heart is broken. Dumb ass #1 &#2 decided to be adolescent cliches. I thought they were better than that. I was wrong. I go away once per year with a friend for some pre holiday elfin goodness up in New Hampshire. We shop the outlets, decorate her house for the Holiday, have Christmas music playing & wrap everything in sight. We've been doing it for several years now. So we plan it on a weekend they are with their dad. #1 was assigned to take care of our dogs. he will be 18 in ten weeks, I thought is was something he could handle.

What I did not count on was the phone call at 1:20 am that the police were at my house, which was filled with 17 or so teenagers, and looking for someone who had knocked over a mailbox. I wasn't sure if it was about my mailbox, or why the police did not care about 17 kids being in MY HOUSE without adult supervision. They knew I was in New Hampshire, I am told.

#2 devised a plan to be unsupervised and do all the things unsupervised adolescents do. He had worked this up for a while ahead of time.

#1Stopped the car for the mailbox tackler, and brought his array of friends to also do the things unsupervised adolescents do. They did this without knowledge of each other intent I am told, and as evidenced by #1 dropped #2 off where he had lied to his father he was staying.

The mailbox can be fixed, the holes punched in my in my wall in the basement will be fixed. No charges will be filed in the days before the college acceptance emails come in, so WHEW.

Then there is the level of betrayal that is harder to fix, and the utter denial on the part of the parents that is mind blowing. I called every parent  whose number I could find, whose child was at my house, Univited by me, and unknown by me. I informed them of what I was aware of about what adoelscent activities had taken place. The younger parent sect, most of them, responded appropriately, and I have gotten , what I am sure were hand shaking phone calls from most of the kids to apologize for disrespecting  me  and  my home.  I give them credit for that and hope it was a growing experience. What they do to and with their bodies is between them & their parents. I did have one woman demand that I have FACTS ( about an event I was not present at) before she asked her son about his participation. I understand, coincidentally, the flu that had him throwing up in her fridge helped her change her mind. That was not a fact, it's what I heard.

What frightened me MORE was the lack of response from the parents of DRIVING teens. " Oh no, not my son" was the response from more than one. I got a " we don't have that in my house." from one mom. to which I responded , "It didn't happen at your house!". I had a 45 minute conversation with parents ( Jane said it sounded like I was doing therapy) who wanted to understand why I was so upset and wanted to know where the kids had gotten the " stuff:" from. They felt better to let it go and assume teens will be teens. I told them I was not interested in attending any child's funeral or sentencing hearing, so I was not comfortable with their stated philosphy that no matter what we do they will find away around it ~so do nothing.
I am aware a teens' job is to find a way around it,  I also believe our job is to make the OBSTACLE COURSE AS DIFFICULT AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.  Then after much deliberation with each other,  they told me of a few incidents this summer, but the kids were told not to do it again, so they felt like they had handled it. I nearly lost it. Jane sid she didn't hear a single " Jimminy Crickets," my choice swear word, out of me all weekend and actually while we were wrapping present I actually told her to put something in the F"ing Christmas bag". Point being I was as close to loosing it as I have ever been. My brother even called me several times as I was making the five hour drive back to CT to make sure I was safe because I was so upset.

We are NOT helping each other by pretending our kids aren't making bad choices and endangering their futures. We are NOT being the villiage I want to be in when we laugh at teenage hijinx. You know what mom always said " It's all fun and games until someone gets hurt, or killed, or raped, or pregnant"  I am not keeping this quiet to avoid embarrassment. I have nothing to be embarrassed about, neither do you, unless you gave your child what they brought to my house. That would be a different conversation, and one better had with police and your own therapist. The only way to keep them safe is to be open with them and each other about what is going on.

 As anyone who reads this knows, I do a lot with and for my kids, & their friends. I place a lot of value on the preventative activities. And it still happened.

My children are being dealt with, it will be a long, difficult road. Their father & I will be right beside them for a while making sure they relearn the steps they are supposed to be taking, and reinforcing why the ones the took were not in their best interest. ( Sound ominous doesn't it?) What concerns me are the kids who also made really bad choices who will be out this Friday and Saturday night, repeating the behaviors from last weekend because their parents do not want to admit what their kids are up to.

Their is big talk over this damn mailbox., even the parents were hyperfocussed on that.  Forgive me, I understand tackling a mailbox ( dumbass~ you know who you are & I know you read my posts) is a federal offense. Mailboxes can get fixed in no time compared to the potential ramifications of babies, or drunk driving or drug dependency ( these are not facts, just here say). WAKE UP FOLKS! I know my eyes are wide open now.

I am angry, mindblowingly dissappointed ,sad & feel betrayed. My kids are on radio silence ( so stop texting them)  & lockdown indefinately. Gone are the days of Mrs Roche's chocolate chip pancakes on a Saturday morning, and " Sure you can have them over". Gone are the bring a friend with you trips to Cape Cod, or NYC or anywhere for that matter. And that really makes me sad. I like these kids, but I am not taking on anymore liability than I have to.

Most of the parents I have spoken to end the call by saying " they are good kids". I am not sure if they are Sure they are, good kids make bad choices, it's what it's all about, I am in what my friend  wise older therapist friend Betsy calls the " homocidal stage" still. I trust it will pass, at some point. A broken heart has jagged edges and my kids will be feeling those edges for sometime to come.

Don't hate me cause I'm into Christmas

I've been getting flack, from all different places. Some people who know me well know Christmas is a month long celebration in my house. I wish I could completely explain why I am happier, smiling more, dancing around the house & singing for the whole month of December. I can't explain it, but it ain't broken & I am not going to fix it. A good many of my presents are wrapped thanks to the first snow storm of the season ruining an entire evening of clients, I wrapped all of Adele's gifts also, cause I was going through withdrawal. Nick and I spent the day putting up Christmas lights yesterday. He was awesome! Never a moment of frustration or swearing at the Christmas lights. Several trips to the store to add more lights to our collection, listening to Christmas carols all the way. I could not get my other two to come out and admire. They complained " it's not even Thanksgiving!"  Comments on facebook were the same. But lets break this down folks.

Thanksgiving for ( most) women: Up early cooking, cooking cooking, setting a pretty table, cooking, back ache, timing things to come out so most things will be warm, over eating, clearing the table, cooking dessert,  cooking some more , eating dessert then cleaning ~& lots of that. More back ache.

For guys ( most) _ football food~ it's all good.

Since I am the former gender, I prefer to skip this particular holiday and concentrate on the fun , excitement and good mood I enjoy for the rest of holiday season. Maybe if I loved to cook I might feel differently. I prefer singing, wrapping presents, thinking about what will make someone surprised and happy.

Christmas Letter 2012

Imagine the writing inside this lovely background

                For Stacey,

Twas the weeks before Christmas and all through Facebook

“Hey I didn’t get a letter?!” was the posting ,   what a hook!

So out to the computer I flew like a flash

Opened up Microsoft word, 2012 to rehash

Perhaps embarrassed by good fortune the author delayed,

Puerto Rico, Costa Rica & Cape Cod she had stayed

One trip was all women friends celebrating a big 4 Oh,

Although with 50 around the corner, wondering where we will again go

College trips with #1, pressure and tension,

“I feel stress whenever I see you!,” was his exclamation

Luckily that is over, accepted already,

Waiting on a few more .  Marketing for #2 coming in steady.

All three boys are in high school, and will finally be a team

Basketball for the winter, happy they seem.

Business is booming, and changes perhaps coming

As long as referrals keeps my electricity humming

Alex is slowly returning from teen cavedom, as Michael descends

Oh well, it was fun While it lasted, these parenting  trends

 After all, our children aren’t ours

We just pay for their lessons, medical bills & cars

Michael is now fencing, Alex & Nick work

Scorekeeping at basketball, responsibilities not to shirk

Not much planned for the New Year

College decisions to make

Watching him go, I know, my heart , it will break

New adventures for Alex, & for us left behind

I may be crying in next year’s letter, hope you don’t  mind.

With gratitude & appreciation for your friendship and fun

Hoping your holiday season is a wonderful one!

Merry Christmas!

Firsts!

Okay, I'm gonna say it. It's weird I know but I had a first last week. While we were battening down the hatches, & I was arguing with my 17 year old that " NO, there will be no driving to a friends house in the midst of a hurricane, and OKay call me crazy! " . I had my very first, legend had preceded it, my very first, celebrated & nutty.. Hot Flash!

I was in the kitchen cooking something for someone ( how strange) and all of a sudden, I said to the waiting bellies in front of me, " Is anyone hot?". Now if you know me and have been at my house you know Heat does not happen here. My house is all electric so keep a sweatshirt on. But out of nowhere, I was HOT! When the teens all assured me they were comfortable and maybe a bit chilly ( put on another sweatshirt) , I was standing in the kitchen sweating. Beads of sweat on my forehead, no lie. & I laughed. My kids looked at me strangely, wondering out loud if I was crazy because they thought it was something women were upset about. I think, after knowing me for all these years, asked = answered. Anyway I don't know why I was thrilled in this moment. Perhaps it's just a matter of crossing the threshold into a club. I have heard many of my friends talk about Hot Flashes, & I can laugh with them at the stories of stripping down to their skivvies in moments, or being the one in the bed who is hot instead of running cold. But now I was a member. I had my own experience, well just one to date.. but in a week of being displaced, frustrated, cranky with the superintendent and ring leader of an out of town excursion with 4 teen aged boys, I was also connected to womanhood in all it's phases.

That is something to celebrate!

What is happening out there?

In the last two weeks three females, that we know of, have gone missing and were found dead. At the hands of males, and worse 2 of them were killed by teenagers. What are we doing wrong?
My stomach sickens at the thought of this. I guess we could easily assume we are dealing with sociopaths, it seems like a statistical anomaly to have that many in this short of a time. Is there something more?
What are the seeds of misogyny? How do we show the lack of value in human life time and time again such that these children, the ages of my children, can commit these mind crushing acts?

My 17 year old spent last night filling out his last college application , my 16 year old spent the better part of an hour working on his boy band Halloween costume for a party he is going to this weekend. The thought of them spending a moment of their lives extinguishing the life of another is unfathomable.
But these three teens, charged with, confessing to, their horrific crimes, were too once little boys who worked on the Halloween costumes, who picked flowers , dandelions, for their moms at one point in time. who watch their dad's across the dinner table. Where did they veer of course. I read the parents turned the boys in, kudos to them for taking that hard step. Were there other hard steps they have taken? Was it a relief to have their kids out of their homes? Why am I not hearing more public out cry that these are teenagers TEENAGERS! Killing little girls?

I have heard some feedback, " keep your kids inside", " they should not be allowed to ride their bikes". My own son has said he wished he was born at the time of life I was, when he father would take off with his friends for day long bikes rides 15 miles from his home, or my brothers & I would venture off into the woods behind our house until the street lights came on. I get the  " what" of what we are loosing. I do not get the " Why" and can somthing be done about it?

Will" going outside to play", be something my grandchildren see on old movies?

Mistakes were made, by me

I was playing a therapeutic game with a client the other day. He picked a card asking him to express the biggest mistake in his life. He's 9. As he pondered his " mistake" I was flooded with all MY mistakes and had to shake my head at trying to decipher the biggest one.

Clearly not thinking the physics thing through, leaving my 3 month old on a hammock while I planned to mow the lawn is up there. My stupidity hit me in time to turn around and see him slide onto the long, soft grass. That was one of the first ones that flooded my mind. No grass mowing for a while.
Then there are the car accidents, none severe, but moments of taking my eyes off the road, to reprimand a child, take a sip of a drink, could have been much worse.


After the session I spent some time thinking over my list. The above aside, most of my mistakes have come from succumbing to my fear instead of living large. The first house I lived in in Newtown was amazing, but after the divorce I was overwhelmed by the 36 entrances & exits on the first floor and being a single mom, so I moved. That's a regret. It had a prefect set up for my office, and a pool. Ah Well.

Holding on to people or things too long, allowing myself to get treated poorly or accept less than I deserve for fear of being alone, in both love and friendship.

Things I wish I had had the self control to hold my tongue instead of saying, but many more things I wish I had had the guts to say in the moment.

I see over and over life is full of choices, some of which will be mistakes. And at 46 sometimes I wish I didn't have to be the one making those choices, but I am, by choice and not mistake.

What I apparently need to learn, is live a little larger.
Oh my client, his was singing loudly the wrong words to a song. To be young again...

If you have nothing nice to say...

I've been quiet on here. I know. Funny stories are down, difficulties are up. I know, believe me, I am alive to bitch another day, ultimately it's a good thing. Nonetheless, I've been in a mood. For a while. Have done things I have never done before, not in a good exploratory way. No adventures except to the dark side.

I know where it's coming from, I know what it is all about. I wouldn't be a decent therapist if I couldn't;t do my own self discovery. I am not depressed, been there done that, for a number of years before I finally decided to get a divorce. This is different. But I am still crying a lot, well a lot for me. I save my crying for Kodak commercials, movies where children get hurt and the death of people I love. But now I am crying about 9/11, Lybia, Alex leaving, Alex being a jerk to me while he is here, my mistrust of financial institutions, my uncertainty of what else I want to do with my life, IFS training, DARC training, Montessori school training, Recreational Therapist certification??? I don't know! Nothing is popping out at me which leaves me sitting in uncertainty. Which is draining.

I realized today the last time I was this uncertain I found solace at the gym. Having someone tell me to do for an hour a day eased my mind, and I ended up a size four... So perhaps I do know my next step. and perhaps that step will lead me to the next. If not, I will at least feel a little more like I am giving gravity & mother nature a bit of a fight. Until then, I suggest if you see me, just nod & give me space, I'm not fun to be around.
I am not looking for sympathy. I am well aware it is only by going through these trying time that we appreciate the good, and learn & grow. It is only with the irritant of the sand that they oyster produces the pearl.

Momma said there'd be days like these

As Adele pointed out to me earlier in the week, some of my "problems" are not bad problems to have. Nonetheless they are mine, and this week has been especially riddled with them, starting with my 5th bout of Poison Ivy of the summer. My favorite season & my fauna enemy. I buckled this morning & called my DR for steriods, & pondered about how inexpensive this drug is. They really should mark this sucker up if they want to make some money. Between the asthmatics, poison ivy sufferers and gym rats I am seeing an untapped potential.  While this is annoying and tends to make me in a cruddy mood all week, I also dropped the ball, or didn't notice my youngest's struggle.

#3 & I spent 2 1/2 hours filling in his map of Europe on Labor Day, & what Labor it was. He complained " this is impossible" and putting 40 names into a map on standard paper in the appropriate places was very difficult, plus, he can't write legible at standard size let alone microscopic. It was pushing jello up a hill, and he was frustrated and angry and I was a bit grouchy myself. I haven't worked on homework with my kids since the house Alex & I made for Mr Ramsey's class in 7th grade fell to the floor as we walked in to school. But I was there walking him through it. Then Wednesday he came home needing to label and color another 8 1/2 by 11 piece of paper with Ancient Greek cities etc. Once again, he was frustrated and struggled & complained about how hard it was. I took over the writing so he would be able to read it later, but it was truly an act of tenaciousness. Then I went on power school and saw he was quizzed on the first map and did poorly. It dawned on me at that moment, he wasn't complaining, he was telling me. So I told the teacher, ( or reminded her again) about his 504 plan and if she wanted him to learn where these places were located he would & could, but to be required to do the fine motor skilled things he is required to do, well that was too much. She was great and we have a new plan going forward, but I dropped the ball & didn't listen to him. That 2 1/2 hours should never have happened.

Then my computer died, and one is already on life support.

Then I get daily pressure from my high schoolers (3) about getting iPhones because all their teachers will only be communicating via twitter, and morning announcements will also be tweets. Sure the school's website says in bold letters "you do not need a smart phone to follow our tweets", one suggestion they had was to go to a public library to look up the daily notices,~ yeah that's practical for a working family. My mortgage went up $10 a month, I didn't get a raise or anything, the town wants more, and wants to add pressure for me to spend another 1000 per year?
Clients adjusting to the new school schedule cancelled, the new computer is not staying connected to the network. #1 referred to me as a hag on day, not even able to process that yet. There was no malice in his tone, it was rather matter of fact. And to top it off I am pretty sure the three computer generated people I play Hearts with are actually friends because they seem to work together quite a bit. Although I did just shoot the moon on them ( take that Ramion, Latina & Jerguen!) So things are looking up. This too shall pass. and as Adele said, there are worse problems to have.

Hope you and yours are having a gentler itch free week!

That don't impress me much

A conversation I had with a teen aged client has made me reflect on my own cynicism, or lack of adoration. I will admit I never " got " the people who sent presents, or cards to celebrities they did not know, nor will ever know. The only fan club I was ever in was the "Trixie Belden Fan Club", a series of mystery books I loved in my pre-teen days. I think I received a monthly newsletter with puzzles and beauty tips in it. I liked getting mail. I still do. But celebrities, they don't impress me much.

This client, who talks about how he was shaking uncontrollable when he was hanging out with a rap star,( the name escapes me, a bunch of letters that don't sound like a real name if I recall correctly). I asked him , " Why? what about this stranger who you spent a few hours with, then both went on your merry way makes you nervous and giddy? "He turned the tables, teenagers are good at that.  He said,  you mean if Beyonce walked in here you would just be like " hey Beyonce". I said, " Well no, I would most likely not recognize her". I am sure I disappointed him. " Then I mentioned her small baby and wondered who was taking care of it, Blue, right? Is that a boys or a girl?

I was nervous once, of "big" people. I think I wrote about it, and my mother's great leveling tactic that made it easy to not see people as above or below me. Don't get me wrong, I was out of my skin when I met my babies, and every so often now an overpowering feeling occurs when I see them or we have a specifically poignant interaction. Or when on a date with someone I have a serious crush on, I can get giddy and girly. But not a celebrity.

I have a client who is a cardio-surgeon, he impresses me. Fire fighters, soldiers, National Guardsman, they impress me. The Duggars, that mom impresses me. She seems so calm and organized & I had once fantasized about home schooling my kids. Hats off to her, of whatever we see on camera ( I watch so little I don't even know her name tee-hee) Mom's who are at wits end. but hold it together impress me. Dad's who know the best thing to do for your children is love their mother ( that's love the verb), they impress me.

But I cannot work myself up to a swoon or shakes over a celebrity. I was next to a red carpet once, have grainy pictures of Henry Winkler, Chevy Chase and the girl from Lace, I was 21 and in Hollywood, not sure I swooned, it was much like going to the zoo. I think I need to figure out how to impress myself, maybe that is part of the problem. I'm gonna go work on that.

Negotiating Freedom

I had the pleasure of the company of my 17 year old for 26 hours a few days ago. We went on an overnight ride down to look at a few colleges in VA. I also had the pleasure of once again getting a parental evaluation from him. Aside from being banned from all sporting events that he plays in for over a year, and the prerequisite " you don't get it mom" that I hear weekly, this time I was criticized for sheltering them too much.  This from a young man who leaves home on a Friday morning, and unless he has a lot of homework, I generally don't see him til dinner on Sunday as he hops around with his friends.

He was comparing our family with his friends,and granted the fact that both myself and his father own our own businesses gives us better flexibility than most people. I work my schedule around what they need, and certainly being divorced, I do my socializing when the kids are with their dad, and I suspect he does the same. So when they are with either of us, we are generally there ( apparently that is specifically annoying) He surmised that the kids whose parents are less available will be better able to adjust to real life. He suggested I do too much for them. okay, I'm game.

I asked if he was ready to start doing his own laundry. To which he replied, " Mom, I have 5 AP classes this year. With working out and homework , how can I do that?" I said, " Okay I would rather you focus on school work anyway." Then I threw out another idea." How about you wake yourself up in the morning, make your own breakfast & lunch so I can work out first thing."  " NO, not that" ,he says,"I have to get up soo early and there's no way I can be that organized first thing in the morning." "Oh, okay sooo you want me to back off, but do everything for you?" " I can make my own lunch on the weekends, " he offers.
 I have to admit, I do worry about him, a year from now , without me to point out you may have to move the milk to find they ketchup in the fridge, or to put down the lid of the washing machine if you want it to clean our clothes. Luckily it seems these colleges hold their hands in some ways, sounds like the food choices are plentiful, he will find the gym immediately, and there are advisers available. yeah he will be okay. Even after being ruined by an over-protective parent like me.