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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Parenting through fear or love?

I spoke with Bev Jean for a brief moment yesterday. But you know how it is, when you speak with a loved one, a brief moment, can speak volumes. All the words tend to count. I had given her a book by Nora Ephron, something about neck wrinkles, I glanced through it prior to handing it over, ( That's not officially regifting is it?) So Bev Jean says to me " I finished the book you gave me, and I have earmarked something I want to share with you & talk about." I asked her to share at the moment as I was familiar with the book. She says" The part where she talks about parenting. & how you parents today, and you know I think you bend over backwards for those kids ( THOSE kids? you mean mine? The ones I chose to bring into this world?- thoughts not spoken words) well, she says you know how parents today say something like "I know you didn't mean to break mommy's lamp when you threw the ball" well it's just to much" I remarked on the obvious literary license Ephron used, but let her know I understood what she was getting at.
"Mom you mean because this generation talks to their kids more than yours did? Cause we'd get hit first and asked questions later? " And sometimes hit with a belt for just being in the general area of the mishap.
"Yeah, I'm not sure it's working" Sometimes I think she forgets what I do for a living.
"So Mom, because some parents have tried to not shame their children for child-like behavior, you think we are all parenting wrong? Is it possible the adults who were those kids who got hit first and questioned later didn't like that parenting method?"
" Well in my generation" I  have to admit I interrupted this one "You got hit and no questions later?"
" No" she said, "we didn't do it because we were told not to"  So somehow, magically, at 2, 3 & 4 years old children of two generations ago had a far superior sense of self control and logic? Or did they know they'd get hit if they did something wrong? And where did that lead them?

We have had the conversation many times over of raising kids through fear or through mutual respect. She'd criticize me frequently for not applying some " psychology to the seat of their pants", when the boys were small.
I agreed with her, that I see in my practice some parents, who, not wanting to repeat what was done to them,  shift the balance to allowing the child too much power, which is as damaging as not considering them enough, and again stated, " While I know the jury is out on my own parenting for another 20 years, I am comfortable with having three straight A students who seem basically kind, are interested in eating health & exercising "
What I didn't say was, at 16, 14, and 13, to my knowledge, my kids have not gotten involved with drugs, alcohol, have not had depression , anxiety or issues stealing, and I am fairly confident no one is sexually active, all of which is more than I can say for her children at those ages.

So, yes the jury is out, and I know as a future grandma I will need to bite my tongue a million times over regarding what I think is the best way to raise children ( PLEASE breastfeed & one of you stay home with them for the first two years!!!)- but it'll be none of my business.
I hope the old adage of " you do the best with what you know at the time, and when you know more, you do better" holds. Here's to learning more about child development, and bonding, human interaction.

I realize I am a bit different but...

I was standing in line to get our clamming license when a woman walked in with her three year old ADORABLE son. Wistful as you know I am for those times, it bothered me a bit when she mentioned how she was " stuck" alone with him for 4 days until her parents came up. "Just me" she said,  "His dad didn't some with us".
I did not bother mentioning my current situation. 6 Teenagers & me, no dad for years, and one (unbeknown-st to me, tied up in the trunk of my van at that very moment ( Ah boys))
.
She said, " I am so tired of hearing MOMMY come play with me"  , " Don't worry," I said smiling, " that will end". And I didn't bother to say what she could not appreciate anyway. I chalked it up to being a bit overwhelmed, which of course I was/am, at times still. Another woman joined us in our little cue, as the first was attempting to orient her son to why a man seemingly cut in front of us in line, much to the tot's loud protests of being unfair and wrong. She looked at the grandmotherly woman who walked in and said, " I can't wait for tomorrow, he is in camp from 9-1." The Grandmother nodded and said, " I have an 8 month old and a 3 year old at my house now, it gets old". The smiled sympathetically at each other. I walked away with a heavy heart for those children. Do these women not realize what a blessing they have? Would that mom like her son to be calling another woman "Mommy"? One who would hear that as music, or that Grandmother rather her grandkids don't visit her?
I left the office, only to find three of my teens in my car, & like I said, one tied up in the trunk. But that's another story.

We went clamming that afternoon and it struck me, while most of us walk along the beach searching for shells, or just enjoying the scenery. Shell fishermen are looking for specific signs in the sand, one you or I might simple walk over, as a sign that there is a clam to be dug here. We watched the sand intently, felt it with our feet, looked for the tell tail spitting sea water signs, or tiny whole that indicate potential for bounty. It was a very different experience of the beach. I could not help but make a connection to the folks who took their offspring for granted or the many parents that I see who do not know what to look for in their kids as signs of connection and need. Of course as I tried to share my insights with my shellfish hunting group, I got little response, mostly odd looks. So I will save it for another day for them, and give it to you today.

I think we appreciate it more when we know what to look for. Look for love peeps.

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.

Truth

I miss my boys, I do, when they are with their dad. Like now, I will not see them until July1. & I'm a bit sad, so I thought I'd do a top ten to list to look on the bright side.

10. Got ALL the laundry done today
9.Cantina night!
8. My schedule and only my schedule
7. Jane's visit
6. no 6 a.m. wake up, unless I want to
5. My niece & brother are coming to visit
4. A week free of sibling rilvary ( #5 above potentially excluded)
3. House stays as clean as I want it to!
2. Seeing my friends I rarely get to see
 and the top reason to look on the bright side when the boys aren't home



                                         NO RAP MUSIC!!!!!

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

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

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.

The new rebellion

Let me start by saying I appreciate what I have. Three healthy amazing boys, almost all teenagers ( a few weeks for the youngest) and being so it is natural for them to rebel, but I never expected this. As a therapist I always had a concern in the back of my head that their rebellion would be something very public and poor behaviorish ( I write this knowing I'm not out the woods yet by any stretch). I'm prepared for that. Understanding the reasons they need to exercise their differentiation from the family helps ease the blow. Plus I had some excellent guidance.

My supervisor in my MFT program saw her 9 kids thru adolescents. By the last two she had it figured out. She knew there had to be something for them to push up against.,needed to exasperate you and get you bent out of shape. What self respecting teen doesn't want to see their parent on the brink? So what she did was create something to make an issue out of. For the two girls it was leaving brushes in the kitchen. While it might be annoying, she took it to the nth degree just so the girls knew they were satisfying their need to stick it to mom. I have families all the time, so willing to accept everything about their teen for fear of alienating them with disapproval, that the kid has to go to near life threatening measures before the parents stand up and clearly say "NO". They need us to push back, they want us to.

So here's my dilemma. I brought my kids up purposefully not denying them of sweets or junk food. We didn't over do, but it was around. I wanted them to learn how to balance choices, and not covet it when they were allowed to pick their own foods as I did. (Check the last post for my financial references.) Sleepovers always included a tray of brownies. Their friends stop by when my kids aren't here, just to raid my pantry.

So here's the deal. #1 is newly into only health food. Damn it. It's been going on for a while now. We threw out his Easter candy right before Christmas, Last night he came into my room trying to sell me his candy from Christmas. He will only only eat healthy, did I say that? As in, "Mom, is this good for me?" "Damn Alex just eat it it won't kill you! Everything in moderation, you can have a piece of cake on your birthday for crying out loud." And to make matters worse, twiddlededee & twiddlededum are following in his footsteps. Salads for dinner, every night, protien, lowfat milk and vegetables.

So that's it. The gig is up. Any sugar in my household is my doing. I can no longer hide behind having these kids as my excuse. If you see me in Big Y or Caraluzzi's with cookies in the cart, they are not for the boys. You can give me that look, I deserve it.Could they think of a better way to stick it to me but to make me own up to my own sugar addiction? And like all teens, there is nothing purposeful, or with awareness, about their rebellion. It just so happens to point parents in the direction of self reflection, if parents choose to look. 

And I'm looking at the 6 boxes of girl scout cookies delivered to my house this past week, with apparently only my name on them. What a great opportunity to grow, just have to decide if it's going to be my hips or my self.

I dreamed a dream of time gone by

I am corny.. Very corny.  I wear it proudly, not ashamed.  But I digress, this is about my dream,
So you know I am getting one into launch position. I do realize the separation process started over 16 years ago. While there was a day when anything important had to be shared with me, and a whole lot of not important but precious was shared, now a days, not so much.

So I had this dream. I was standing across from number one, who was sitting, and rubbing the outside of his leg while he spoke to me. (Now you know I was dreaming, as any attempts of affection from me are rebuked) He was sharing something, I was listening. BLISS! Then, as I rubbed his leg, he got smaller, and younger and next thing I knew the man/boy sitting across from me was a baby in my arms cuddled on my shoulder. AH Bliss! and as much as I immediately felt flooded with the love for that infant, I instantly felt the loss of that man/boy. And I regretted my selfishness and wanted my man/boy who is leaving me, who has to leave me, back. In leaving me, he validates my job done well. Doesn't that just beat all?

Kiss today good-bye the sweetness & the sorrow. Won't forget, can't regret,what I did for love.

Sometimes even I feel too sticky sweet.

Precious moments

I was home alone with my first born tonight, and he was not up to his ears in homework. It was a rare occasion. We celebrated by making a few puzzles and playing the game Boggle. I tried the questions, you know about drugs sex  rock & roll, or rap to be more accurate. We have moved beyond grunting, " Thank you Lord!",

and actual sentences came out. It was lovely. It's beginning to look a lot like the most wonderful time of the year.

The puzzle was a picture I had taken of him when he was about 5 while we were on a hike. He has the best smile, always has. He used to be a lot more generous about sharing it, and it was there in it's full glory in the puzzle. I asked him if he remembered, if he remembered being that happy. Our trips to the farm, hiking, the silly games we played, the forts in the family room, all the years I gave him a piggyback to bed ( till 2008). If he remembered the favorite times of my life. I know he can't possibly remember all that, I do. I know that is part of the burden I chose when I decided to become a single mom, not that being in my marriage would have made it a shared memory/joy. But now there's no chance of anyone else in my life remembering that boy, these boys and their funny stories and
the quiet moments.
I'm a bit melancholy about time this week. My Grandfather's last surviving brother, Uncle Ace, passed away this week.That generation     is gone. We've had four death's in our family this year. It deserves acknowledging, that's a lot of grief.  And after I allow myself to dip into that pool of grief and loss, I know the antic dote is doing what I did tonight. A few clients talked of the older generation feeling left out of life this week. And I have as much compassion for their parents sense of loss, as I do for my clients' anger at feeling manipulated into feeling guilty about living their own lives and disappointing their parents. I also realized I still have over half my life left and there are days my body feels like it's 80. I'm 15 yrs away from being a grandma & my plan was to chase after those little buggers around and build forts in the family room again. I have plans to get my body working right again, I also plan to savor every minute, again, of my own boys, even if I'm the only one who remembers it.