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.

Sleep-overs & couples therapy

It's not what you think. Me & 4 boys in my basement.
Wait that's not sounding right.
So I'm walking down the stairs to do a check on the 4 teens hanging out in my basement, when I am stopped on the stairs. " So Cat, ( I prefer that to Mrs Roche, who is my ex mother in-law, and not who I am at all) how do you break up with a girl?"

"Why do you ask?" I inquire.

"Mom. your calves are huge"- thanks Nick, I know, a genetic mutation, my calves are as huge as my brother's. No skinny jeans ( not that my hips cooperate with that anyway) or tall boots. Anyway, I digress.

Then I worked hard that hour, coaching on text responses, insisting of break ups being over the phone, if in person is not possible. Asking them to refrainn from the initial juvemile responses they had to the bait from the girls. It's fascinating watching them struggle through creating appropriate boundaries, trying to own their own emotions and weigh that against fear and potential.

" It just ends sometimes right?",one asks me." You can just not feel the same about someone"

"Yes" I say with more weight than I wished to convey. I recover quickly with a " At your age you are growing and changing and it makes sense to want to see who you are with different people."

When the texts got personal, blaming my son for ruining relationships he had nothing to do with, I needed to show the utmost appropriate response. " I would not even response do that dumb-ass( my new favorite word- sad I know) statement. How do you even talk to her?" ok so I got a little heated. But that was my baby she was bad-mouthing. 
And I stand by- sometimes no response is the best response. Sad to say it took me years to learn that one.

An hour and a half later, fielding many adolescent questions and coaching through much confusion over the females responses. I went to bed.

In the future, I may start asking my son/s friends for copies of their insurance cards before they sleep-over.

My summer vacation???

So the boys were gone, then they were back, now they are gone again. Which is good cause, as the saying goes, I need a vacation from my vacation. 3 theme parks, camping & a white water rafting trip, AND I still saw clients. I am wiped out.
What I learned: One of our traditions has been to go to the Great Adventure Safari, I have pictures of the boys as toddlers, in matching safari print overalls ( yeah I was THAT mom). A few years ago, amidst protests from the youngest we went again, and saw a lioness stalk and kill a bird ( who gets to see that???) and this year, we were there early as we were going to the amusement park for the first time ever, and  watching animals does not get old. Go first thing in the am, before the heat makes them all lay down for comfort, they are up, we saw Kangaroos hopping, Rhino's policing traffic, bears eating. It was awesome.

I learned I can get thru anything ( like this) by couting. This was a 47 second-er.

My  kids & I are not the most coordinated paddlers in the world. There is a decent chance we would not have survived had we taken this trip as an outdoor adventure without help. While in the beginning of the trip, we were one of the rescue boats, pulling people & oars from the water, but then, our lack of coordination left us right by the sweep up boat most of the time, and eventually even he past us leaving the kayak sweeper to pull us off of several rocks. Ending with our entire boat flipping 30 feet off shore at the end of the trip. I almost cried, I worked really hard to not cry. Ok I cried while I was taking a shower in the camp a little later.

Just cause you are loud does not mean you are the boss. I knew this, what I learned was my middle son does not know this. It's a process I guess.

Group bulding activities does not always result in group building. But mom completely loosing it because there is no place to send someone who is misbehaving when you are on a boat and talking reason is not working, does buy 24 hours of " better" behavior.

Kids laugh about things much sooner than I think they are funny.The next morning at breakfast I was awake with the middle son, his BF and my oldest's GF. Over breakfast the middle, who attempted to run our boat with insults and yelling, was recapping what we did wrong the day before. I was ready to smack him with my pancake spatula, and the other teens just looked at him and laughed and said " Give it a rest already!" They laughed. I was still fuming. I needed to " give it a rest already" too. So I did.

And now, I have a week of rest before our next adventure begins. AHHHHHH!

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

Name Game

I think for all parents naming your children is something you do not enter into lightly. Every Evan, Moon Beam Zappa and Taylor came after some consideration, Whether it be family tradition handed down 14 generations such as my neighbor,or  a couple's story, as in the case with Sunday Kidman Urban, or a lucky draw from the baby name book. Each has a story. Here is ours:
My first born was supposed to be Sarah. In my heart of hearts that baby was a girl. Everyone but his future Godmother whose is also my Goddaughter Alexandra, thought he was a she. So when his head popped out and the Dr took one look at his long eyelashes and declared him a boy even before the bits were revealed, he took after her and there he goes. His middle name honors my Grandfather.

When Sarah was a no show the first time, she was moved to second string for the second child, being trumped by Rebecca. Since there was a good chance this too would be a boy child I wanted to be ready. I remember so clearly the day I sat on the family room floor with the baby book open scouring for boy names I liked. I was struggling. Patrick? Douglas? Then it hit me. My favorite guy of all time, ever...St Nicholas. What a wonderful legacy to be handing down to a child. Named after the best guy, the best spirit of children. Done. He too took on a grandfather's middle name, that just so happened to also be his dad's name.

By the time the third child rolled around, having gone into the birthing room blind twice, we decided to get that ultra sound that removed any doubt. We still had Sarah, Rebbecca and now Ally floating around waiting for a little princess to name. Alas, an appendage was spotted and we would have no wedding to pay for in the future. Knowing this would be the last child there was a brief moment of      oh     but quickly all the fun and ease of same sex family came to mind. And I felt blessed.

Around this time a neighbor stopped by. I think it was something about borrowing tools. Anyway, as I stood in the front door with a very large belly, a baby on a hip and one running around my legs, he asked about their names.When I told him he said, " Oh you are going with the Russian Czars! How great!" I tried very hard to  keep my ignorance from showing and just smiled and nodded, "Yeah that's right." The relief of this chance encounter was I now had a focus for my third boy. As I researched I found Catherine The Great, Alexander The Great, his son Nicholas the Bold, and a whole bunch of generations where they kept passing their names back and forth. I also found a Simon, we already had a Bichon by that name so we were set there. I was left with Peter and Mikhail. That seemed easy. I could not go from such strong names as Alexander & Nicholas to simply Peter, so Michael it was. And again, a grandfather's name follows his first.

It felt right, complete. Then I met people, many people who had stories, well warnings actually, about "Michael". And they swarmed me. And acted like this was a well known fact, like the law of gravity. What goes up comes down, name a kid Michael and you will have a run for your money. One women, while I was still pregnant and at her husband's 50th birthday party took me aside and said "Don't do it, I married one and I named one, don't do it". Well I did not want to look like a dope to my neighbor; I had made a commitment to my fake intelligence after all, so we did it.
And he was a bit    different.  He was the only child I had to harness, in his high chair,& in his stroller, serious 5 point restraint. I had to actually buy him a different car seat, because unlike his two big brothers who never attempted to get out of theirs, he fashioned himself a regular Houdini.  At 2,  when Michael said he wanted to wear his red shirt, he would put on every red shirt he had in his closet. He was my only child who climbed out of his crib. I will forever remember the night I heard a strange grunting coming from the hall only to find my baby straddling the gate at his bedroom door. Yes, I had to but a gate at his bedroom door. 
While waiting in the line for the ferry to Block Island one year he took off away from me at full speed, I went running after him in between cars, any of which could move or open a door in an instant. A man stepped out 50 yards in front of me and swooped my son up in his arms. As he handed him back to me he smiled and shook his head " Michael?" He asked. I breathlessly nodded and he said " I am a high school principal, more trouble with Micheals than any other name. "  UGH.  A year or so later we were at the Irish Festival in Danbury. The boys were with their cousins all pre-school and toddler aged. The adults, FOUR of us, were standing outside the blow-up obstacle course the kids were running through. We kept looking, kept counting. 1 2 3 4 5 6... 1 2 3 4 5 6... Then when it was time to end their turn we only had five. Leaving the older boys with their Aunt & Uncle his dad & I fanned out across the Westconn campus. The panic in my heart is impossible to describe. I ran one way, he ran another.There were families everywhere, cooking tents, cars, the stage. and at this time no cells phones. About 25 minutes later we found him, he had toddled down to the amphitheater and climbed up on some man's lap to watch. ( The very kind gentleman said he was suspicious since the child had only socks on, that his parents might not know where he was)  As I took him from the police, and held him in my arms, he simply said "I wanted to hear the music" His breakfast food of choice has been chicken noodle soup since he was 5, ( he rarely gets sick). He's My Michael. He may very well be the death of me.
In a house full of Russian Czars, perhaps I should not be so surprised by the amount of territorial fighting. Maybe somehow I set that up. I should look up who wins, I hope it's Catherine the Great.

Navigating the curves

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

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

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


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

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

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

Day trips

Sometimes when riding in cars with boys we go on day trips. Truthfully whenever possible, partially because I believe it is a parents responsibility to expose their children to the outside world, and partially because whenever we are at home, for some strange reason there is challenging of the pecking order. If you have boys close in age, you know what I am talking about. If you don't, let me describe what happens. They cannot pass each other in the hallway without shoulder checking each other into the wall, fingers are wiggled in front of each others faces until someone looses it, pushing, shoving, taunting and yelling. Until someone declares some type of victory, or I have completely lost it. The boys have always been in the birth order they are today, they have always been each 19 months older or younger than the next one, no one has gained more age, height or weight on anyone else, why oh why is there a constant caveman like battle for power? Oldest wins, he's bigger and stronger, then the 2nd comes in 2nd , and the youngest is last. That's how it is,  & I think it will be for a good 5 or 6 years into the future. Nonetheless, every time we are alone together for a length of time,they have to test this basic principal.

So whenever we have a free day, I like to get them in the car, where punching each other takes a bit more effort as they can each command their own isle, and get out of dodge. This past weekend we went in to NYC and I heard from my 15 year old words I have been longing to hear for over ten years. We were standing in the middle of Time Square admiring the ball that will be dropping in a few short weeks, and he said "This is cool". He has never liked NYC, a place I LOVE.  He was freaked out by the crowds and the homeless people talking to themselves wandering in circles ( sounds a bit like me though on a bad day) I feel hopeful now that we can head in more often.
We had a great day. ( WARNING unlike in the movie "When in Rome", there are no taxidermy wolves running up the ramp at the Googenheim, which is what prompted me to bring the kids there) There are however lots of nude statues and paintings, which prompted our very quick visit and lots of apologizes from me to our co-ed group.
Oooops.

We went to Macy's, looked at the windows, went to the pop tart store, M&M's, Hershey, the Charmin bathroom stop complete with a video dance along and an MC chatting it up with people waiting in the lines for the facilities.We watched street performers saw the show on Saks exterior, saw the big tree. It was a very different experience for me with the girls than if it was just me & the boys.
And I am happy to say, it was a pleasure. The girls balanced out the day, far less jockeying for position went on, the boys were compliant with requests they would have strongly protested if I were alone with them. All in all a great Christmas success!

Matt, my fourth

As I stated in my first post, I always wanted to have a house my kids were comfortable in, where their friends could hang-out. Growing up with 5 brothers there was always people around, and being that I was the only girl, my mom was generous about letting me have friends over frequently. We had Orly Ronan live with us for a year, when her family moved to New Jersey. Going from the only girl to sharing a 9 x 11 room with someone was a growth experience. My family had always "adopted" people. Several generations ago my Grandfather's cousin's came to live with him as children, as their parents could not care for them for a time. It's tradition.

So it is a natural extension that my house is usually busy. And I love it. I saw a home video recently that was 10 years old, pre-schoolers and early elementary kids jumping on my couches, standing and dancing on chairs. I remember my mother admonishing her grandkids exhuberant behavior with a " This is NOT Aunt Cathy's house" , when they spread their wings elsewhere. It's a house where kids can be kids, and nothing is too valueable that if you break it it really matters. We made the basement the "mancave" complete with a huge TV ( thanks Kevin) and a huge coach & small fridge ( thanks Tina). They are comfortable here. Not only do I get to enjoy my own boys interacting with their friends close up, I get to hear more about their lives.Once some of my sons' friends stopped by to grab a snack & go through my halloween costumes even though they knew my son wasn't home. They know the side door is open, and if you've been here more than once, you know just to come in. I want people to be comfortable here, so this leads me to Matt.



Matt, after his " Can a kid fit in a dryer "experiment- and yes he can



Matt is my son Nick's best friend and has become the  my first official unofficial-adopted child.  He calls me "Cat" or  "Cat-dog" don't remember where that's from. He has wonderful parents, and an older sister that he enjoys. But he & Nick seem to need each other,( Matt was away for a week after we were away for a week last summer. I thik it was the longest they had gone not seeing each other in years. This left Nick, grieving I think,  laying on the couch, watching old seasons of The Office so much that he talked only in Office quotes for several weeks) Frick & Frack my mom would say, I believe it's called a bro-mance today. So, he is here, a lot. The past two summers the boys were inseperable. He has come on vacation with us twice. He has been to family parties and took part in Cousin's Camp ( an annual tradition with the 16 grandkids) His presence is a given and in his absense he is missed. He is the seasoning to the oil and vinegar my children are without him here. All together, they make a nice combination. He pushes us all out of the box, we talk more to each other when Matt is around. He pitches in with chores, (he just set the table) he is helpful the way I hope my own kids are helpful when they are at someone else's house. He adds humor and laughter and feels like part of us. When his parents thank me for all the time he is here, or express concern that it is too much, I tell them, and I mean it, he makes us all better, together.

So thank you Stephanie & Laz for sharing your wonderful son with us. And Matt,  I hope this is good enough for you. I think the garbage in the basement needs to go out. I'd say " I love you like your one of my own", but you would say "eewww" and call me a "pedophile" so let's not go there.