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.

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.

Passing of the taxi cab keys

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

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

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

On-line dating

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

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

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

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

Old Souls New Souls

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

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

The gifts

 I imagine Christmas has always been daunting for my mom. What with 6 kids, 5 of them BOYS~ ( girls are so much easier to buy for ) plus she would always make sure she had gifts for the cousins, and someone from works daughter's niece's new baby. That's mom.
For several years (26 to be exact) our Christmas present had to match a certain letter of the alphabet. What you wanted was not exactly relevant, only if it matched her preordained sense of order. It was fun sometimes.,My brother Sean & I overtly competed for the coolest stocking stuffer following her rules. And the Z year was the first time I ever bought a " Zero" candy bar. God forbid you needed underwear any time other than the 21st year, it would not be coming your way. I am pretty sure the tree trunk was fairly bare during the x year.
Once mom finished her plan, she was left to her own devices. During that time my vegetarian sister-in law received cow PJ's complete with an udder and hoofed socks. I never clearly followed her thought process.
In 2010, following the death of her mother, mom got busy wrapping tons, literally tons, of little things for the bunch of us. The grandkids were given personalized Navy sized duffle bags filled with ~ well stuff. The guys were given 5 gallons buckets also filled with stuff( apparently fairly useful) and the women, a gift bag filled with , well~ things. Lets just say I trotted that bag out at more than one party looking for someone to try to help me make sense of the collection of zip lock bagged Chinese restaurant mints, fridge magnets, ceramic scary smiley faced flowers, neon colored light up floaty flowers a scrubby sponge, Pam, chachka etc etc etc.
My 6 year old Goddaughter found several things she was delighted with.
This year I came home one day to a box of mini cheese from Swiss Colony. The creation above was done by my niece Mikayla. She made an igloo with some other squeeze cheese that was in the box. I also received a black crew neck sweatshirt that reads Moms Of Marvelous Sons. that I threatened to wear to my kids sporting events if they don't behave.
And I know, all of her gifts come from the heart,and from a catalog that should be banned.
And I also know, my true gift from my mother, is the gift I have for my own children, loving them with all my heart, always. She loves me when I am funny, and needy and bitchy and down. She loves me when I don't feel loveable,and when I am on top of the world.  She listens whenever I call and even though she NEVER reads this blog, is my biggest fan.
So bring on the dollar store presents and the tacky sweatshirts. I will lovingly wear them to bed at night and think of your love surrounding me, keeping me warm.

I'm at war

My God Daughter Alex & Michael

Is it just me, or does everyone else with kids over 11 feel like finding time to "be" with our kids is an impossibility? We are on the move, & my kids are not over scheduled. it's just life. Life. My oldest work about 6 hours a week, far less than I did at his age, yet he is busier than I ever remember being. Yes my middle is now on the Freshman Basketball team ( way to go Nick!) but it is not more time than his daily gym time, and the youngest, now that football season is over, is committed to  only 2 1/2 hours a week. Yet, it took 2 weeks to find time to decorate the Christmas tree, and even that was done in record time. Less than 15 minutes I think. All the while Alex worked hard to position himself so his face was never in a picture.

My Elf NIck, Alex, avoiding a direct face camera shot

I know, if the worst thing my son does is grunt at me and not let me take his picture, I am sure I will look back at his adolescence with a sense of relief, but for now, it is SO annoying!
 But I am trying to fight the good fight. Trying to make sure we eat dinner together more often than not, atleast for the 15 minutes I can get them to sit down.  We are planing a holiday outing for this weekend. But do I have to kidnap them and take them out of state for us all to be together?

So where does this time go? For my part I am happy to say my practice is busier than ever, so some time in the evening goes there. Mostly though it's homework. and studying and I don't know. I just want to yell " Stop".
So I am changing my Christmas list, all I want for Christmas is time with my kids, sitting by the tree, playing some board games, Just being with each other, that's all, and um if they can not try to kill each other, that would be AWESOME. But I don't want to be greedy.

Christmas for dummies

Don't hate me becuase I am done. Done with the shopping, wrapping and labelling. The radio station is permanently on 97.5 for Christmas music all the time. Working on the cards, to add letter or not to add letter, that is the question....But don't hate me because I am done. This is my favorite time of year, and what with honors classes, my two jobs, sports etc, I find the time to actually enjoy the season with my boys gets more and more difficult, so I try to be "done" by Thanksgiving to squeeze any moment of Christmas cheer out of  our month of December. The halls are decked, the house smells like pine, I have forgotten what half of the presents I got for the boys are ( making the unwrapping exciting for me as well!)
I was dismayed recently to hear my youngest God-daughter no longer believes in Santa. Dismayed is an understatement. My own children still believe in Santa, or atleast have never admitted to me anything otherwise, and Wise of them that is. I found out her mom has some fairly ametuer Christmasing skills, you'd never know she also has a 15 year old with the rookie mistakes she has been making. So I thought I'd share a few of my personal tips, as in my family Christmas is synoymous with "Aunt Cathy", I feel as if I know a little something about this.

First of all, I suggest every parent learn this song, and sing it as often as White Christmas or Deck The Halls:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c1_qhKppEDo

It was one of my best memories from my Grandmother's apartment in Queens when I was a child.

Next: Make sure your children know you believe in Santa. Naming my second child after him helped in my house.

Next: Have "Santa Sacks" A pillow case decorated for each child for Santa to place their unwrapped presents in. This way it is clear what is from Santa and what is from other family members. Plus it saves the ol' guy & the elves from wrapping gifts, VERY GREEN of you!

Next: Believe Believe in magic, and love, believe in possibility and delight. Believe in the spirit of Christmas and children, in fun and innocence. They are children for such a short time, let it last as long as possible.


And remember what Santa brings, more than the toys or gadgets, the socks and jewelry, is a reminder that honoring our children, symbolized by one specific baby boy, who, as I heard in a funny movie reference a few weeks ago " Just happened to be born on Christmas Day", is really what this time of year is all about.They are, after all, the greatest gift.

It's not your mother's Chiddy Bang

So for Nick's 15th birthday he wanted to go to a concert. His current favorite artist is a group called Chiddy Bang. We found they were playing at Gettysburg College ( just a short 6 hour drive) on November 4th. After many difficult attempt to find out how to get tickets we scored an handful for Nick and his closest buds.
$25 each- gotta love at least that.

ChiddyBang

So at the end of a ridiculous week sans electricity we ventured off ( at least they didn't have to leave school early), I sprung for a hotel room just for the warm shower. Driving 6 hours with 5  14/15 year old boys- my friends called occasionally, it was a nice reprieve from the rap music. I cannot handle the swears or graphic references. Since when did the F -word become melodic?  or the how-to's of sex acts become fodder for lyrics? Am I old???  What happened to insinuated sex, like "afternoon delight" or "lay me down in the tall grass & let me do my stuff" The boys were concerned about how I would react at the concert,(my nephew was supposed to chaperon, but had to work, lucky me) I told Nick I brought soap to put in their mouths if they swore ( YOU know I'm kidding right?) He looked at me in earnest and said, " Mom, he (Chiddy) had a really rough life up to now, you shouldn't do that" 
I swear, as smart as my boys are......
Well old fashioned me entertained the troops for a bit with some logic games, " I'm going on a picnic..." etc. & they begged for more.
Gettysburg is lovely,what I saw of it. Definitely have to go check it out when I have more time. We were told to go to the college early to get in line- it was a standing performance in a ballroom, yeah!!!! So we stood, 1/1/2 hours before the concert started. Meanwhile, Nick was suffering from whatever Alex had at the beginning of the week, poor guy. He was really uncomfortable & dragging. There were two other acts before the main attraction. I am pretty sure I was the oldest person in the room except for a few of the security guards.& equally as confident that every rapper who came to our side of the stage, (we scored front row standing) looked at me like " What are you doing here old lady?" I had a lot of eye contact with confused rappers that night.
One song that I particularly despise repeats the word " ass" like 28 times as the opening chords. The kids found out I hated it on the ride down. So when one of the acts started singing it. the newest member of our crew looked at me for my reaction. I leaned into him and said, " I didn't bring enough soap for the whole place." He apparently also believed me, as several days later he shared this story with Alex, who could not join us due to his SAT schedule. Damn serious life.

Chiddy came out, Nick perked up, I lifted my head from the resting position on my arm. Thank God there was a rail there to hold me up. Is that rude? To be in the front row at a concert and take a quick nap before the main act? Heck, I'm old, give me a break. Standing for 4 1/2 hours is not fun or easy. The boys had a bit of an education about college students. One particularly low self esteemed co-ed was screaming next to us offering her body up to Chiddy for carnal purposes, although her offer was much less classier than the way I phrased it. and loud, and repetitious. And in front of my 14/15 year olds. Ah well, concerts are different than I remember in the 80's. I was concerned about drunk students or wafting weed, neither were there ( thank God) So in hindsight I could have dropped them off and layed on a bed watching TV for a few hours and the worst they would have been exposed to was the co-eds rubbing their dancing bods up against their backs.
I had a rather loud and obnoxious one falling into me, and screaming in my ear~ I didn't want to be  "THAT MOM" as Nick calls me, but I also had some tummy issues that night,  so she cleared out rather quickly. Don't mess with a middle aged woman chicky.
Oh you Chitty Chitty Bang Bang . Pretty Chitty Bang Bang I love you.

Unexpected losses of the week

So I have thrown out my share of food, I have had clients not show, and they couldn't call to tell me. I expected this much. My son broke up with his girlfriend of a year, I did not expect that, nor did I expect how sad I am over it.
My mom warned me. She told me after my oldest brother ( still unmarried and facing half a century) brought girl after girl home, a different one to each of his siblings weddings, some longer term than others, she told me, "Don't get attached, it'll break your heart." She was particularly fond of one named Livy who was from Stamford. I think they were together for about a year. I also think Livy was married a year or so after she & my bro broke up.

Anyway, I get attached to their friends. Matt is like a fourth son, who I check on occasionally even when Nick is not hanging out with him, and use his full Christian name when I need to reprimand him. and now apparently to I will be doomed to getting attached to their girlfriends.  He apparently picked a good one. She offered so much more then the much needed estrogen boost in my house. She is a lovely girl with a good heart and an easy going nature.She was not rattled by the crazy testosterone filled house I run. She, being female, understood my perspective on most things. It was nice to have some female back-up.
 There's no place for my sadness.
 My son made his decision based on his experiences and his understanding of his own needs. Neither of which I am privy to entirely. & my job is clearly to support him listening to his own voice and making decisions for himself.
 I did express my extreme unhappiness with the whole Facebook relationship status thing, and his friends
" liking" his new single status. I made him take that down. He saw what I was saying after first protesting how much I "don't understand that it was just a joke" There are some teenage boy jokes I do not find funny.This was one of them.

I hope to teach him to be respectful, even when a decision is made to end a relationship. Especially when there was no fault to it ending.
I am sure I will see her around, and feel an overwhelming desire to hug her and take away the pain. I so clearly remember my first serious relationship break up, and the entire weekend I spent crying on my friend Terri's couch over Kenny. And how hard it was going back to school the next year and seeing him in the hall.
I guess that's what's easier about adult relationships breaking up, you don't have to run into that person.

I know he is hurting to, it was a hard decision, and he is not a kid who lightly hurts others ( except his brother). But this blog is not about him, it's about me.
  As much as I didn't even want my kids to date until they had their college acceptance letter in hand, & I certainly wanted them to date multiple people to learn about themselves and have a lot of life experiences before finding just one. I reallllly liked this girl. and I will miss her.

Parenting is not for the faint at heart

 Client 1. Daughter (14) has met boy from different town (16) Mom & Dad come in to lay down ground rules.
Completely reasonable & a little more lenient than me- there are no members of the opposite sex allowed in my kids' bedrooms. I do not have time to stand watch at a door, so I refuse to set the situation up. ( Alex says I am way too strict- ah well) So said client's teenaged daughter grumbles at the rules, and mom looks at me flustered  "See I get attitude" " So what?" I say, yep that's what 5 years in a Masters program in family therapy prescribes for these situations, " So what?"

If I had to wait until my children LIKED what I told them to do, we'd be over run by garbage, the lawn would never be cut, & Michael would still be wearing the same clothes he wore the first day of school. You get the picture.

Family 2: Divorced parents came in together, their 8 year old was on-line video chatting at a friends house and the 14 year old boy they were talking to convinced them to do some untoward stuff. Dad said " This is exactly why I did not want to have a daughter." His fear was palpable.

http://www.parentingteensinfo.com/2011/08/12/dont-allow-yourself-to-become-isolated-2-minute-tip-for-parenting-teens-168/

There's a great website above. You are not alone, whatever you are going through. & they put us through alot.

Thank you!

91 more post reads and I will be at 5000. Not ever a real goal, just kind of cool, and have I mentioned?, my mom has NEVER read my blog. So she is not even stuffing the numbers with her friends!

I started this for a few reasons. most of which remain in tact today, which brings up a point. Every once in a while I like to evaluate " Why am I doing this?' " Is it still relevant?" " Do I still enjoy it?" ( Thus the pictures and scrapbook material spread across my dining room table, it has become a chore). I like to keep what works and get rid of what doesn't. I take my cue from Mother Nature.

Look how our bodies work, when working right. Take the good out of our food, get rid of what we don't need. And if we don't give ourselves enough, we suffer, and if we take more than we need, well, there's a system in place to let that be known as well. :-)
And how her great wind storms help clear the deadened branches from tress and make room for new.
It's a good system, and it works.
I like to do this with the family as well. Check the systems we have in place, are they working? what was their purpose? Do they need to be adjusted? One of the beautiful parts of this is including the boys' experiences in the conversation. Of course I am always in conflict with the youngest over my methods of discipline (see my post on Feedback), but on other ways, I want the boys' to know their opinions are important, all the while maintaining my truth of knowing more than they do about the world, and the "rammy" adolescent male brain.
I digress- Thank you, those who read, those who respond, those who tell me they read privately, those who find my posts worthy to pass on to others. I am honored and flattered- And this is still working.Thank you

Feedback

Occasionally I get some feedback from the boys. Not the usual " You never PUNISH him when he annoys me" type. That I get daily. My youngest & I do not agree on "punishment" for his brother, he thinks electric shock, I say make him leave the dinner table is he's not behaving in a socially acceptable manner. I am talking more the broad range " How I ruined their lives" type of feedback.
My first exposure to this was when Alex was a freshman. After asking him for literally his entire 8th grade year to PLEASE let me take him to get a haircut, and being refused ( & I pick my battles, it's only hair); plus when I took him to the awards ceremony that year at school I saw almost all the boys had this mop things growing on their head, (not sure how many had mastered the gravity defying up bang curl that Alex was sporting though). So I said to myself, "OK, he needed to do this, it's a thing." But when in high school, he railed at me " How did you let me have my hair like that?"
 Really?      Really?
Was I going to throw him in the car ( he was taller than me at the time),,, drive to the barber in Bethel, drag him out of the car, strong arm him into the building and sit on his lap while someone sheered off his locks? Really? How did I?? I reminded him I had asked, offered and begged him to get his haircut. He said he didn't remember that. So I got smart. Michael has decided the mop top is in, he too has hair capable of defying gravity, must be from their dad's side of the family, blow drying , mousse and an entire bottle of hair spray cannot stop my hair from sticking to my scalp.
So I had Michael sign this: " I will not hold you accountable for how I looked in 7th grade, as you begged me to get my hair cut frequently." And he did, with a full eye roll. But now I have to find where I put the paper.
I'm just not going there again.
Last night Alex was reflecting on the past two years in high school. Being in a high school of close to 2000 kids, it is tough to get on the sports teams. Alex announced he can't wait to die and get reincarnated so he can stay in sports ( the child works out 6/7 days a week at a gym, and plays basketball in the winter). I am not even going to touch the onslaught of emotion I felt when my son says " I can't wait to die" He said he wished his father & I had "forced him to play sports".  "Forced him to play sport." ???
Now my recollection of the past 6 years goes something like, soccer, then baseball, basketball, then baseball, then basketball over the summer, then baseball again. His youngest brother did Lacrosse, football, basketball, baseball. Not sure what sports we were supposed to "FORCE" him to do. I do recall telling him to get back into soccer when he realized he was not the top 13 kids in his aged group for baseball. In Newtown if you are not the top 13, you are not in. His soccer coaches for years had asked up to have him come back, we did encourage him. He felt he had lost too much knowledge, guess he forgot that too. He had considered wrestling, then was turned off by the thought of rolling around in other people's sweat, I get that. I may need to have him sign something about it though.

Update: I have spent a week since I wrote this trying to find the legally binding document which prohibits Michael from complaining to me about his hair, and guess what he decided yesterday?

A number 2 all over- if you have a son you know what that means, it is not a BM.
The site is not allowing me to put up pictures, so I will put them on FB

the rope bridge

Lisa & Michael, Nick & Alex on the bridge

In 2002 the kids & I went to Hawaii. We met one of our old au pairs there for a wonderful week of exploring and fun. One of the most memorable parts of the week for me was when we discovered the Hanapepe swinging bridge. It was exhilarating walking across the bridge as it shifted from side to side, a slight sense of danger adding to the excitement. I remember clearly,  Nick, making his way a few yards in front of me, getting a kick out of the unsteady steps and crying out, "Please God don't let me die here! I'm a good person. I'm named after Santa Claus!" 

It's what we all want, "Please God don't let them die here." Adolescence is that swinging bridge. The steps are unsteady, and ever changing and the last thing we want them to do, is fall. But how do we support their travels from the safety of  the terra firma that we created for them, to the land of their own lives?

There are a lot of questions, ones I struggle with , ones my friends or clients struggle with. On somethings I am more than firm and clear. My priorities for my children and my support of my priorities for my children. Their first is school, going, doing what is required, doing the extra that is offered. This is all done to afford them the possibilities of choice when it comes to higher education and hopefully life. But that's not what I say, I say "it's your job, do it" .

The sticky ones are more about exposure to life. Alex asked me if I was going to make him abide by the laws about driving when he got his license. While I would LOVE for him to be able to drive his siblings around right away, if I say he is allowed to disobeyed, who am I to question when he disobeys my rules for him?

That being said, I speed sometimes. 25 mph is ridiculously hard to maintain. With that I accept the consequences for getting a potential ticket. I work for the money that will pay that ticket. I am an adult and am allowed to make that decision.

Alcohol is another issue. A former client contacted me. They had found several bottles of hard liquor in their son's bedroom and in the basement where he had recently hosted a post prom party. They were nearly empty.

In the course of our conversation, it was reveal that the parents had given the overt sign that beer (although illegal) was ok as long as they didn't see it, but hard alcohol was not. These parents were surprised their rules were not followed. I gave them a small education as to what they had to lose if, God forbid, someone who was at their houe left and was caught drunk driving or worse.These are intelligent, well intentioned, church going, professional, adults. Why they would open themselves up to this liability is hard to grasp.

I think, instead of remaining on terra firma, they joined their teenager on that swinging bring.Their desire to perhaps seem "cool" or stay "in touch" with their child made them lose perspective as to the job of a parent. As any one who has ever been on a swinging bridge knows, having more than one person on it makes navigating it more difficult.

I love my job. Earlier in the week I had to tell another set of parents that the only one who was allowed to act crazy while their daughter was a teenager was, the teenager. They seemed to understand what I was saying.

Stay on terra firma folks. The swinging bridge is for the kids.

Transition

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

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

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

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

The end of an era

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

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

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

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

All is right with the world

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

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

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

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

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

This one it let me load...go figure

The other mothers

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

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

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

Launching

Imagine the amount of energy used to launch the Space Shuttle into orbit. Past the gravitational pull of the earth, free to fly it's mission. I would not want to be under that thing, see all the fire? and yet...

Imagine the amount of energy used to launch a child out into their lives. Past the gravitational pull of their family, free to fly their own course. A woman I truly see as one of the best mothers I know came to me when her oldest daughter was entering her senior year of high school, in tears. Her heart was heavy with the knowledge that it was the last real summer as a whole family, and except for fortunate times ahead, counting on being together, was over. When we spoke in May she had a very different attitude, more like, " Here's your hat, don't let the door hit you on the way out!" Mother Nature provides for us a shift so we can let them go, it gets harder to live together. They lunge for their freedom, we miss what has been lost. Conflicting needs, desires and viewpoints abound.

As the Aunt of 13 I am in a position to view this several times before living it fully. Although I am quite aware of the torturous process of the slow death of childhood in my own home, I have a 19 year old niece who is on the launching pad and the countdown has begun. There were some problems with the initial launch, which is why she is still on the pad a few months before her 20th birthday. And according to my brother, it is all very painful. Now we can choose to stay in the moment and argue about cleaning rooms and stealing clothes from siblings and curfews, or we can acknowledged what is really happening. She is leaving, as children are supposed to do, and it hurts. It is far easier and more distracting to stay focused on the daily irritations, but I think we all miss out on something if we do that. She is leaving, and it hurts. It hurts us both, the pushing off of and pulling away from the gravitational pull of the family. Neither side in unscathed. But we can make it easier on both sides if we take the time to acknowledge our children a gift that life has given us. We were only promised that gift for a time period, and then the gift has to take what we gave it and go, and become. And if we are lucky, they will want to return to visit from time to time.

It is our job to make sure the launching pad is in good shape, without chunks missing so as to delay launch.
We need to make sure we are capable to do our job and be a solid force for them to push off of, just as they leaned against us when that was required.

I know Alex is on the blocks being driven to the launch site. I am thankful to have the two short years in front of me to look for last minute tweaking double check all systems ready, and enjoy him. I know those years will be marked only by moments of togetherness just like the check lists for the final count down. I look forward to our vacations together as the time approached where Spring Break will take the place of April vacations. I hope and pray I have done all I can do to create a launch pad for him to push off of, knowing that push will be more painful than the first pushes that gave him life. Already the contractions are "You are too tight on me", he said. "What do you mean?", I  inquiry. He almost never hears no to any request because he does all I could ever ask of him. He sleeps out most weekends, both nights, goes to parties, has already kissed the garage with my car and basically runs his own life ( brilliantly I might add).      " It's just a feeling" he says. And to myself I say "And you are too far away...:-( " But that's what is supposed to happen.

In the meanwhile, I am going to invest in a fire retardant suit.  Oh wait, I already have one, my dreams,my plans for the future are what I am wrapped in while each child pushes off of me. Get your launch pad ready folks, like it or not, they are going.