Lessons from mother nature

Check out this great MSN video - Bear Cubs Rescued From Dumpster

I will admit, may have already admitted this, when the boys were babies, I watched animal planet a lot. I figured they have been doing this parenting thing for a long time without the need for prescription meds, therapists, and a juvenile court system. So, I turned in and paid attention.

Certainly three boys can appear like bear cubs. My family room cushions were on the floor more than they were on the couches, clothing was optional a good deal of the time, affectionate wrestling , warrior yells and pretending were all common occurrences. I think, for the most part, so far Mother Nature was a good mentor.
So I watched this video, and was reminded of some of the basic tenets I  embarrassed when they were small. Don't do things for them they can do for themselves. Sometimes you have to stand nearby pacing and watch them struggle. Help can come from unexpected places, be open to it. Never turn your back on danger. As soon as the strongest is safe, start leading again, your movement will send a message to the weaker ones that you expect they can handle it. Trust that deep down inside, despite their adolescent stubbornness, they know they should follow you because you are wise, you are strong , you are the momma bear.

Alex had his senior pictures yesterday. I cried ( not a big cry, teary that's all), he said " Stop it". :-)

These M & M's aren't good for you either 

So I understand I am "old", and just like parents of the 50's were concerned about Elvis and his gyrating pelvis, I have concern about my children and what they listen to. I played Raffi, and classical music in the background while they were growing up. When we wanted to rock out, the Wiggles were there for us to dance party to. "Hip Hop Noel" was a favorite from Disney at the holidays.

I have not liked, but have tolerated, to a point( three swear words and the son must be changed, sometimes we don't make it thru the first stanza) my very white, a little preppy, health conscious and academically responsible boys' affinity for Hip Hop & Rap. I even went so far as to take one of them & their friends to a concert. But what I heard yesterday just threw me over the edge. It did.

When the boys were young we often sang the duet of  Carly Simon & James Taylors' " Mocking Bird" when I was putting them to bed. It was fun, and a good memory. Some nights when we had more time we played a game where they would throw out a word and I would sing a song that had that word in it. That was pretty cool as well. Until, well #2, always a precocious child,one night he threw out  "Testicles" ( we were anatomy appropriate in my house no "gaslapogus", or "vajay jee" for us)  & I had to admit defeat. I knew of no song, nor did I ever care to know of a song, that contained the word testicles. it's not melodic

So we are driving yesterday and he puts on his rap crap and I hear the word "vagina"  in a song, yep, "Vagina"  Are you kidding me? There are not enough words in the English language to use we now have to use basic anatomy words for songs? Are we singing about ovaries yet? How about a pancreas?

What gets me more then this, is what does the future hold? The sexual innuendos of my youth : "Afternoon Delight" prove too cryptically challenging to figure out for today's youth? They have to have it spelled  out with directions of what to put where and details on how things work? What sounds to anticipate and where to leave your number as you leave? Am I being old?

And most importantly, What the heck are my grandchildren going to listen to?

Things you can count on

So I had a rare opportunity of spending some time with Bev Jean tonight. Michael was " graduating", I use the term loosely, from 8th grade. And true to my word, I would go if he wanted to go. As mom & I are heading over to the campus, she confidently tells me this is the month I will meet " Someone". You know the "someone" the friends & family of a single person hope for for the single person. And the "Someone" a single person hopes will be funny, and love their kids and be a good guy, a really good guy. So Mom said I will meet this someone in an unusual place, and she encouraged me to go to the Unitarian Church I have been talking about checking out. I said, " Cool" and got to preoccupied with her heavy breathing and holding up people behind us while walking to the ceremony, to worry more about men in unusual places.

While in the ceremony Mom was comparing it to my niece's ceremony that she had attended last week. She commented on what I should do the " next" time I attend an 8th grade graduation. I reminded her that this was my last child. She smiled at me and said, " you never know, you might get your girl". I am sure my face was a bit screwed up at that suggestion. I reminded her (I seem to remind her of things a lot), that I am 46 and my child bearing years were probably behind me, despite of my heart's willingness. I did a quick calculation, I don;t want to be 66 at a graduation. She just smiled and said" You never know".

As we were leaving the ceremony I allowed my curiosity over my mother's confident assertions to
be voice. My mom spends a good deal of time talking to relatives who have passed, & wrapping my kids, and I am sure myself, in Angels, and she's a daily parishioner at ST Greg's, so I thought maybe there was some divine communication she was operating off of. So I said, " Mom, where are you getting this information about me meeting someone from?"  " TV Guide" is her response.

" TV Guide horoscope" She cautioned me it wasn't in effect until the 22nd.  I laughed, come on you would laugh too!

Then I thought about it. TV Guide does accurately predict what is on TV 24 hours a day 7 days a week, maybe it's as good as any. Or maybe the confidence, if you can call it that, from her confidence, will project to the universe and Voila!  He will be here.....Of course, you will be the first to know! After TV Guide that is.

Calling Red Tenters

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

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

WWYD?

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

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

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

Thanks,
Cathy

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

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

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

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.

"That Mom"

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

Passing of the taxi cab keys

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

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

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

Define rude....

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

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

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

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

Appreciating what you have

There's a popular saying, "Happiness is not having what you want, it's wanting what you have." and as you know, I am generally a happy lady. That is not to say I don't, at times, feel sad, lonely, unappreciated, and empty. I am, as a lot of us are, in this limbo place where I want to be available to my kids. I don't feel comfortable committing myself to something that would compete with that, a romantic relationship, a Phd, etc. That being said, my patchwork quilt of a life at times feels rich & full and at others, lonely and empty.

A big part of that richness is Adele. I know I wrote about her last week, & while I was writing that tribute, unbenownst to me, she was working her magic with my kids behind my back! Adele has frequently stepped in and supported the kids to show their appreciation and appropriate behavior when they were not given that guidance elsewhere. One Mother's Day, when they were young and particularly incapable of doing things on their own, she helped them create a Mother's Day redo, complele with breakfast in bed & a painted plate. She checked in with them at Christmas time, Mother's Day & my birthday to make sure they have bases covered. As Alex ia almost 17, I had not thought she was still doing that.

Well while I was busy avoiding her these last two weeks to have her suprise party go off without her catching me in a lie, she was busy contacting my boys getting them organized to give me a beautiful framed appreciation tribute for my birthday. It was a flowing poem of our memories and acknowledgement of what I represent for them. " your ridiculous dancing in the car". Most importantly she supported them to be better men.
I wish you all an "Adele", in your life. But not mine, she's taken.

Ode to Adele

So last night I pulled off, with much help, an amazing feat. I surprised one of the sharpest women I know with an early Birthday Party. And I had two shots, so two big things in one night. If you have ever planned a surprise birthday party you know how anxiety provoking pulling it off can be. In the last hour I didn't know if she was clueless or torturing me with her 5 phone calls and a text, thus the first shot. The second one was to prove to her I did the first as she has never seen me have a shot before. And now I am not saying alcohol is the answer, but my xanax was at home. ( Hmm is she serious???)

Anyway it was a wonderful success, completely blindsided her. Having her bake the birthday cake helped, and the fact that her birthday is actually 5 months away. One of the activities of the evening was a sharing circle where people shared memories or said wonderful things, all with the intent of making the birthday girl well up with emotion & cry some more (we used to get extra points in therapy school if we got, I mean made room for,  our clients to cry during a session, without inflicting physical harm, that was frowned upon) As we were going around the room sharing, it came to my turn. I started telling the story about how Adele & I met & how it was instant admiration, and respect. She interrupted my story, as she always does to highlight the points she found important ( the fact that I just bought her dream house in town,) and I would have to wrestled away control to tell my side ( she verbally shred a woman who inadvertently put down a man I had the hots for) & the fact that Adele didn't know I had the hots for this guy and still shared my unexpressed opinion, I knew she was a keeper. My story got interrupted again by someone else taking the invisible talking stick and I was left with much to say and no subtle way to get the floor. I find I frequently get interrupted and lose speaking room in a group. Thus the blog I guess.

What I was going to say was Adele is the most amazing woman I have ever had the privilege to know. If I was stranded on a desert island, or going to Costa Rica, there is no one in the world I would rather be with. She is loyal to a fault (you know who you are) , brilliant, determined, compassionate, I make her laugh till she cries ( gotta love someone who thinks you are that funny,) honest, positive and a true presence. She has overcome unthinkable odds and created a strong and safe foundation for her children. She is a woman who is truly beautiful both inside and out. I would never have guessed, going to the mutual friend's shower so many years ago that I would have met a person who would change my life forever. But I did. And I am better for knowing her, as is anyone else whose life she touches. To you Adele & the next 50!
* That is not a reflection of her current age but more an estimation of how many more years I will be alive to enjoy her presence in my life~ felt like I needed to clarify that.

lesson's on the road

Nick's best bud & my part time son, Matt, had a devastating event happen in his life. It's not mine to tell, and in some ways, the event is  no where near as important as the lesson the boys learn from it all. Stuff that kids should never have to deal with, adults either for that matter, but somehow we are supposed to be tougher.

It was like every other day, well almost every other day. Laz, Matt's dad, dropped Matt, Nick & their crew off at Blue Jays to go apple picking. The boys wanted to do traditional fall activities, I was working a booth for Cultural Care Au Pair ( contact me for info)

 and gave Nick a 20 and sent them off to the orchards. When they were done they wanted to go get wings at a local sports & wings hang out place. It was really an  enjoyable afternoon. We got home & the kids went out on the trampoline. a regular old beautiful Sunday afternoon.
The Matt's mom called. I could tell immediately something was wrong. Everyone was ok, but I took Matt home for  few hours. Nick texted periodically with appropriate comments. " What can we do?", " Tell them I am here for them" The important moment came when we got home.

While Matt was getting things situated in the kitchen, Nick was in the Man Cave. I was curious why he did not come upstairs. I went down to see him . he was playing a game on his itouch. " He's back" I said. Nick nodded. " You need to go upstairs and see him." He ignored me. Playing his game. I started getting annoyed.
I did not want my sons to shy away from feelings. Feelings may be  uncomfortable but they can be managed & I was flooded with all the adult men in my practice who will do just about anything but feel an uncomfortable feeling. And all the women who sit in my office, feeling alone with their husband sitting 3 inches away from them. I was not going to let him lose this opportunity to feel bad and handle it. So I said. " You are not going to leave him hanging up there. You are going up stairs, giving him a hug and saying " I'm sorry"" Nick had tears in his eyes, and wasn't moving. "Now" I said. 

He walked by me wordless, and wiped his tears as he went up the stairs. A few minutes later I walked in on the besties hugging it out in my kitchen. Not a word was spoken, but none were needed. Being there- is- being there.

When I went in to say good night to Alex, I said to him, "Have you seen Matt?"  " Is he here?" he asked.
" Yeah , he is downstairs."  " Oh," says Alex.  Not breaking his stride in getting into bed. " I feel really bad for him."  Oy vey- " You could tell him that," I coach, " Go downstairs, he's here." 
" Nay, that would be awkward:" he responds, pulling the covers up to his neck.
One at a time I guess.
I'm proud of Nick, really proud. we all need to teach our children they can handle their emotions, even the difficult ones. Just feel them, do not be afraid of them.
And the lesson, besides Nicks, is that life changes in an instant, any instant. I had complained to two different people about being a little bored lately that very morning. - no more. I was reminded that day of how precious our blessings are, and how they can be taken away in an instant.

Imagine

I spoke to another therapist this morning, an old supervisee. She needed confirmation of the hours I spent supervising her (I was supposed to keep that?) Luckily she has that. We commiserated about parenting teens. Her daughter was just entering what we referred to as " the dark ages" and she was blown away when I told her I have the three all in the midst. We talked about how thankless the job is, how lonely it can feel, especially when you are a single mom, how emotionally painful it truly can be. And mostly we laughed at the insanity of it all.

About how asking my son one simply question results in a screaming " Why are you interrogating me?"
Or when a slight adjustment in my tone is met with "You don't have to freak out about it mom!" or
"Mom's freaking out about it"- they like saying that-collectively as if we are at war & I am the crazy one.
Luckily,? Nick has seen me in all out freak-out mode,  Once- I opened a can of Costco sized Whoop Ass on him, and it had as much potency as can of Redi-whip. But it does serve as a marker, so when I am accused of  '"Freaking Out" I can just turn to Nick, who lowers his head, or smirks and says, " Nope, um, no that is NOT her freaking out." & I feel validated by that, in a strange way.

So my friend shared how she would pay a taxi to take her daughter to the airport rather then endure the 30 minutes of berating and character assassination her daughter liked to load on her during car rides.

She told me of the moment she "knew". She was in the shower & her daughter stormed in the bathroom waving a shirt & screaming about it having been discolored in the wash. She informed her daughter of the obvious " Well I am taking a shower right now and we will discuss this when I am done in a few minutes."

When she went down the hall, dry and dressed, to speak with her daughter, her daughter was singing and dancing around the room, and greeted her with a cheerful " Hi mom". It was at this moment, she knew she wasn't in Kansas anymore.
I remember my moment also, I recall walking into MY office, while Alex was working on MY computer and asking him a question about his plans. I was met with the Teenage Anthem for the first time. " Mom, it's my life, back off". I believe he was 13 at the time also. I have to say, I covered my mouth so he would not see the smile. I know that is NOT the appropriate reaction for the Teen Declaration of Independence. but it was my first time, & I was naively excited for my overly obedient child to develop some chops.

She asked me how I get through it. I gave props to my Red Tent crew. I have the oldest kids of us all, so mostly they just nod and coo at my pain and suffering. The know their turn is coming. What I like best is how non-judgemental they are, and how when I am referring to my kids in less than favorable terms, they laugh and say, " I wonder what they would think if they knew you called them that." Especially me who, in my friend group, is the Mary Poppins of swears. It's the laughing that's the best part. The laughing that gets me through.
Like this morning, when I mentioned to Alex I was starting a detox program next week. And he said, "Oh are you getting rid of all the wrinkles in your face?" and you know I didn't even throw something at him, so I say "Yeah me." and laugh- he was thinking Botox, so that's good, I guess.

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.

Echos of the Breakfast Club

I have been in this field for close to 20 years. YIKES! In 1992 I graduated as a Marriage & Family Therapist. My experiences in the four years I was absorbed in the program at SCSU were life changing.One of the largest lessons, that I had already had the seed of, (planted by my friend Aimee in high school, who also became an MFT), but was confirmed was simply " We are more alike than different" Thank you John Hughes-

Each summer I attend a conference at the Cape to meet my continuing education requirements. And each year I come back with an appreciation for the depth and thoroghness of the education I recieved at SCSU. And I ususally write a note of thanks to  Drs. Barbara & Ed Lynch, thanking them again for the enormous impact they had on my life.

Once again this year, sitting in a room, of generally older therapist, psychologists and social workers, I was struck by what appeared to be the presentation and understanding of this simple concept. Underneath it all, we are not so different after all. This thought was echoed again and again, with a sense of surprise, by my classmates, as we watched videos and experienced live sessions. On a side note, Adele was amused by how excited I was to get to watch live therapy sesssions, hey I admit I am different. Probably akin to her seeing a huge deal close. Anyway, it struck me, if those of us blessed enough to be given the opportunity to see each other in all of our naked emotional vulnerability need to be reminded, underneath it all we are all made out of similar cloth, that probably everyone needs to be reminded.

Not color, not religion, not socio economic status, not age, not ethnicity, not prestige, nor poverty change the fact that we all want to be included, want to be loved,  we feel pain, sadness and fear. We all have been hurt, perhaps even traumatized, we have lost, we suffer. We also feel love, hope, tenderness and compassion. Look at the children, I have often held the belief that they are nearest to God, therefore nearest to our most perfect state. Before our socialization techniques, and Life, create the changes that often come to mar the most beautiful form of SELF. Look at them, they know compassion, and curiosity, creativity, calm and caring. It is inate, it is who we are meant to be. All of us.

I am very excited about this theraputic technique I was exposed to, ready to do another scrubbing of my own interior psyche and have more tools to use with my own clients. I will keep you posted!

Cognitive Dissonance

 I was watching the news a few weeks ago and the newest finding of HPV causing throat cancer in males caught my attention.I new they had a vaccine for females, now they are offering it to males. Anything to protect. I called the DR to schedule an appointment to have all three boys vaccinated.

A few weeks later I found myself at the pediatrician's office with my young men in tow. There is something a bit strange about being in the same room where I naively tried to distract #1 from his first round of baby shots by breastfeeding him through them (( I am sure the nurses had a good laugh about that during their lunch break), he still screamed. Good thing he had no teeth!) and being there now, 16 years later getting shots to protect them from sexually transmitted diseases.

But that's not the half of it. Many of you have heard me say, my most favorite time of my life will be remembered only by me, as they were too young.

Well we had a brief trip down memory lane,

 waiting in this office, with boys who are now taller than me, when I discovered this book in the pile:

 PJ Funny Bunny was one of Alex's favorites. The look on his face was priceless! And the flood of memories of them sitting on my lap, reciting the "chorus" with me was joyful. It was as if it was yesterday. All three started recounting their favorite parts as PJ decides he is tired of being a bunny and tries to find other families to fit in with, ultimately deciding having a million brothers and sister and eating carrots is not so bad after all. They kept saying excitedly " I remember that page!" " I love that picture", and trying to guess which animals family PJ was going to try to join next. Clearly something about this book was bringing back the love & joy I remember so well from the hours we spent sitting on the carpet all huddled up reading about PJ Funny Bunny. ( YES!) So seldom am I included in their spontaneous expression of joy these days (Teen code)
It was a beautiful 10 minutes.
Then the nurse returned to inoculated my babies, I mean my teenagers, from a SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASE.
New appreciation for denial here.

Then again, thinking you are better off elsewhere to eventually decide, really, home is best, seems pretty appropriate for right now too. Thanks again PJ.

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

Ladies Night

While ladies night is not a rare thing in my life, little talked about benefit of divorce is having two free from parenting weekends each month, having Adele join us out is a rare treat. When she called me up midday to find out what my evening plans were, to surprise me with the treat of her rare freedom ( she has NO free from parenting minutes) I screamed in the car. Michael, who was laying down in the back seat, looked at me like I was crazy. But ladies you know. You have lots of friends you love and enjoy, and you have a few who know exactly what you are thinking without you saying it. And who make you a better person just by being with you, and I crack her up, like tears streaming down her face crack her up, and that's pretty cool.

So she joined our posse and we headed to Splash down in Westport. The outside bar looked like the set & cast of Housewives of Fairfield County, with  ( any why haven't they added this?) a few dramatic gay couples thrown in for flavor. Entertaining. Inside was funky and cool, and after the waiter went to lengths to ask us how we wanted our food delivered, one of my  table mates chuckle. I asked her what was humorous, she said, "you will see". In spite of our well planned directions food was brought out willy nilly over the course of about 20 minutes, my crab cakes first , our shared dinner salad second to last. It was  a " we are SOOO cool that we can do this all ass backwards and you will still come back" NY kind of thing, It took Adele a good half hour to have her drink, which she ended up preparing for herself at our table made. Olives in one container, juice in another, ice in yet another and then there was the glass. LOL - or maybe they didn't want us to come back, not a bit of botox in our whole bunch. The 70 year old man making out with his pregnant 30 year old wife was really the icing on the cake for us.

So we went to check out some more of the local scene. I have to say the funniest part of the evening was watching some cougarettes fly into a flurry, animatedly pointing and whispering, when one of us "cougars" innocently enough started chatting it up with a male quasi attached to the group. Yes, we should have video'd it.  That was funny. Ahh the power of security VS insecurity...

Interestingly enough, the only member of our group hit upon by a male( not that we were looking for it) was the one member who has absolutely no use for the gender. As we were leaving this particular establishment he grabbed her at the door and started chatting her up, the rest of us walked into the street and I started to sing " One of these things is not like the others" Ala Sesame Street. I figured he'd figure it out sooner or later.
Maybe before I finished my song.

To be fair, one of our group was looking for a possibility. When discouraged at 1:30 she lamented" Where are all the good men?" I assured her that any man I would want to meet was probably at home, and sleeping at 1:30 in the morning, which is where I was hoping to be, soon. For me going out with the ladies, is really about enjoying their company and having a few laughs, - mission accomplished.

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