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". :-)

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!

Still waters run deep

So I do at times poke fun at #1 son on here. He is the least talkative of my children. Observes more than engages. At times comes off as awkward even with people he knows well, or at least for a long time. Plus he has that missing connections thing. Like when he asked me if we had a skillet or cutting board before making his Culinary project for school. I know I am not a "cook" but I do have to cook, and he has eaten what has been made in the skillet and on the cutting board.The kitchen is right here in the open, not behind some closed door. I would expect him not to know if I had facial moisturizer, although he does know I have that.  We, the other three of us who get the obvious, exchange knowing looks, and wonder about his independence at college.
And then, and then out of know where he says something that lets me know, in that head of his, he is paying attention. He is putting things together. He is going to be OK, and I am relieved.
#3 was having some issues at school. The regular who is "in" and who is "out" stuff everyone ages 11-14 painfully deals with. I of course ( internally) respond most inappropriately wanting to coddle my baby, and physically harm those who have scorned him. ( It is all internal folks. trust me)  Externally I have him list ALL the kids he likes, not just the 6 who turned their backs on him this week, and he hopefully sees the world is bigger than these boys, this school, this town etc...But inside I still hurt for for him.
I also, being a systems therapist, look at how he is treated by his big brothers and see how being left out is a position he has become accustom to, and is perhaps unknowingly recreating for himself, but I digress. In talking to #1 about the current issue and asking him about his own experiences he simply says, " He ( #3) is telling himself he is not as good as them just because they did this. You have to choose your own attitude."
This is not one of my sayings. I have sayings, a few, but this is not one of them, and I am so impressed with #1 I almost do something as foolish as throw my arms around the timid creature, but I know if I want him within my general vicinity at all I must proceed with caution. So I gently slap his leg in glee and ask him where he got that from. He just shrugs his shoulders (the typical adolescent response to anything from, Where's your pants? to How did the dent get in the car?)
Maybe he won't starve to death in college after all.

HE smiled at me.

It's Prom season in Newtown. And this is not the Prom's of the 80's. Just logistically it is so very different. Rare is the Junior who has had his license long enough to drive his date. Plus with the 11 pm  car curfew, I am confident there won't be groups of kids camping out at Compo beach overnight like back in the day. ( I was the 4th kid, my parents were tired)
So these teens have the ever classy bus to drive them to their destination with Mom & Dad providing the driving too and from. I'm not complaining, I am sure there will be far less drinking & driving, & other activities teens like to engage in ( or at least that is what I am telling myself.)
Another change is it is no longer "The Junior Prom" it's just called PROM. & the class doesn't spend money sending out invitation that have been picked & designed by the class officers, (secretly also mentally preparing for their weddings) You just simply go and buy your tickets. Rather anticlimactic. I don't even know if there's a Prom theme, or if they will be getting those tacky engraved glasses we gave out.  Perhaps this is a more eco-friendly time. How many prom glasses have made their way to dumps after bouncing through tag sales?
Also different is how the asking goes. Apparently THIS is the big deal, the way to express the individuality taken by the restraints placed on the students. I have heard of a scavenger hunt, a T-Shirt laden group of minions propose at a local basketball game. I was thrilled to be asked for ideas by #1.
He asked me how I was asked. It was unceremonious but exciting each time. We ran through a few different possible scenarios the weekend before Valentines day, knowing V-Day would be the day of the asking. Settled on a Valentine Pez dispenser where a candy was replaced by a note with the word "Prom?" on it. He had to feign inability when his date to be asked him to do a forward flip on her trampoline for fear it would fall out of his pocket prematurely. It must have been hard for him not to display his physical prowess, for fear of exposure. Ultimately the deed was done.
We've been fighting about whether or not moms of the males are allowed at the group picture taking session. He insists it's a moms of females only thing. I have no idea where he gets his ideas from but this is the same kid who, a mere 4 weeks ago asked me if we owned a cutting board and skillet.  I insist if I don't go, he will be mad at himself for the rest of his life because I will remind of  it for the rest of his life.
I did get to take him for his Tux. After introducing him to the salesman, I stepped back & let them get the male type work done. Until, until he put on the jacket, and stepped in front of the mirror. And he turned to me, and smiled.

Passing of the taxi cab keys

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

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

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

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.

I'm at war

My God Daughter Alex & Michael

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

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

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

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

Don't mess with mother's instinct

So, I have been waiting for this to happen, the innocence of adolescence to have it's inevitable break-off into rebellion. For as much as #1 takes his space, he does (did) always stay in between the lines. Until last night. & I had a feeling... Gotta love Mother's instinct. It warns, it protects. It teaches you the silence you sometimes hear is a cry for help, tells you to go back home, even though it doesn't make sense to, and draws on the deep connection between parent & child. So last night, when he was around me, and his energy was a buzz, I had a feeling, and I did nothing. It has to happen, I cannot control all, nor should I, so I did nothing.

But this morning, when the feeling was still there I cruised by the house he was supposed to have been at- no car, then his regular sleep-over haunts, after each one, no car. Then I called his dad. He confessed to me later, he initially thought I was crazy for driving by all the houses. I could have called #1- but I knew he would not be up. So instead I called the parents of all the regulars.

What I uncovered was an elaborate web of attempted deceit. Bill was allegedly slept at Mark's, Mark allegedly slept at Brian's, Brian was supposed to be at Robert's etc. The result was a large amount of angered parents, in disbelief, at this man hunt for my son, and then their own. One mom went to check bed's to see if maybe someone was there. But no such luck. & at the same time- classic

So the next step was finding him. He was where he usually is, at NYA working out, or on his way there. He knew, when he picked up the phone & I said, " stay where you are I am on my way". The gig was up. His Dad beat me there, and I arrived to a shaking, pacing teenager, and his dad standing in the parking lot. There had been a party they wanted to go to. He thought I'd have said "NO", apparently the entire friend group decided their parents would say "no" so instead of giving us a chance, they took matters into their own hands and lied. On top of it, he drove, w/ people in the car. I think I was most upset about his lack of giving me a chance.

So consequences have been handed out. Hugs and apologies made. & I am sure I have sprouted a gray hair or two this morning. And we add another thread to this complicated quilt of our relationship and lives together. & mostly I thank God it took until he was 16 1/2 before anything like this has happened & I had the trust in my gut instinct to risk looking like a fool as I drove all over town searching for him.

Thank God for the village-

Nick's response to the whole thing;" He should have parked his car at the house he told you he was going to be at then gotten a ride to the party." - I think I am in trouble with that one.

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.

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.

Thank you!

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

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

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

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

I must have done something good

I really connected with that song from the Sound of Music. I used to fantasize about playing it at my wedding. And while my Captain Von Trap remains MIA, I found myself humming it the other day with the same sense of peace I always imagined I would have. And while not the romantic whirl around the gazebo Maria encountered, it was good. And  it was prompted by Michael, my youngest.

Poor kid was home a few days this week suffering from his spring allergies, which apparently are immune to even RX medications. Poor kid. He was miserable. But during our two days together, in between my clients, we chatted, and played games and watched some TV. And he appreciated me, and he told me so. But that's not it.

 He approached me in the kitchen one day and told me he wanted to tell me something, but he didn't want me to be disappointed. Isn't that just about the perfect lure for a mother, right up there with " I have to tell you something but you have to promise not to get mad."  So I bit. He told me while I was out with his brothers on the trampoline the other night he logged on to a local radio station and nominated me as " Mother of the Year". Disappointed? Seriously? He said he didn't know if I would win. LOL. As I wrapped him in my arms, I told him I already had won.This is one occasion when it truly is an honor, just to be nominated.

Cue music "Nothing comes from nothing, nothing ever could. So somewhere in my youth, or childhood. I must have done something good."

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.

16 Years ago today

I met a boy. A boy who would change my life in profound and delightful ways. I never felt more right. More tired, more frustrated, more love, more joy, more worry. And nothing and everything has changed.

I labored, and had no idea I was in labor with my Bichon at my side, watching "Arthur" on TV at 2 am. When I woke up Alex's dad at 5:00, we still had no idea it was real. We got to the hospital at 7:30 and Alex made his appearance of 11:03 a.m.( do not be jealous, every subsequent child took longer) The nurse chided me for having natural child birth.(B*&ch)

As a first time mom, I didn't think to protest when they took him from me to warm him under the fake lights. By my second baby I knew to hold him next to my skin to achieve the same result in a more loving fashion. And to challenge standard hospital procedure in favor of what was best for my child. He made me stronger. It was surreal, I was expected at work, he was a week early.

I had heard things, like you loose all sense of modesty...and I did, anyone and everyone who could help me figure out breastfeeding was welcome to observe, manipulate and assist. I remember standing bare chested at the hospital window waiting for the lactation consultant, when I realized I was bare chested looking out the hospital window. Hello down there in the parking lot! Nothing mattered, well nothing but him. I recall being driven home and realizing people, like my mom, and my grandparents, and siblings, and husband and his family and friends, all expected me to keep this baby alive. Holy Crap!  It was overwhelming, and I was 28 with a Masters degree! I prayed every night that year, that he was alive when I woke up in the morning. Lucky for both of us he didn't actually believe in sleeping at night, for the full year.

There are many things no one tells you, cause you wouldn't believe them. And I know Alex has no way of knowing how profoundly his coming into my life effected me, and he will not know until a someone places his child in his own arms. The depth and ability to love we humans are capable of. It is magnificent.

16 years later and I know Panda, you don't get why sometimes I just need to see you, look at you and just absorb your presence every once in a while.That I miss carrying you to bed by piggy back, which I did until your legs were longer than mine. That I miss how easy just snuggling and cuddling was, but how happy I am for you about the pride you take in your nutrition and maturing body. I know you look to the future full of hope, excitement and great possibilities. And I wake from a dead sleep in a full sweat at the thought of you driving on our windy New England roads. And I do my best to smile for you, encourage you forward and keep the tears and worry to myself.

Roots & Wings my mom always said, "Give them roots, then give them wings". And a job done well means they leave you. This kind of sucks, no one tells you that.

Name Game

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

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

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

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

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

Navigating the curves

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

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

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


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

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

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

SNOW DAYS!

Love em or hate em, if you live in CT, you get them. You may have guessed I love them. Anytime to play more with my kids is a bonus for me. I am very aware that three years from now Alex's " Snow days" will be on a campus somewhere, where hopefully he will be doing what he is doing right now, which is sleeping in his bed. Only I will not get the privilege of making breakfast for him that day. Yep, I said it, privilege. Being able to do something for someone you love, to me, is a privilege. And while the time is passing, without my consent or even consultation, I will , with "God as my witness" ( Ala Scarlett O'Hara) joyfully make them breakfast, play a game, referee their fights and whatever else a snow day requires.

I remember when they were little, I divide my life with the boys by the houses we lives in, and this was the "big house" in Ridgefield. Snow days there meant helping everyone on with their gear as they could not do it themselves, hide and seek in the house, painting, baking and me drinking a whole 2 litre bottle of diet coke. One winter we apparently had so many of them that my breasts began to hurt. My midwife told me it was the caffeine, and I'd need to find another way to keep up with three little boys on snow days. Apparently we were not meant to drink the entire bottle in one day.

Once again, we have a snow day sans snow, so far. But that still works for me. I exposed two of my sons to a foreign film, with subtitles. They had previously not known this was one of their mother's interests. And we had a talk about the state of men & women around the world, and old traditions and religion. and if we had any bacon I could make with their pancakes for breakfast. By the way, the movie is called "Water" it was beautiful, fascinating, terrifying. And once again made me thankful for the privilege of caring for my kids, and for love in all of it's forms.

I can smell bacon burning. Gotta run. Have fun today and be safe.

Twas the week before Christmas

And all through the house, so little holiday cheer
"I have homework!" teenagers grouse.
The stocking were hung by the chimney, but who cares?
"We have essays and projects before we get there!"
The children are nestled all snug in the beds
With algebra, science and Spanish tests in their heads.
I don't wear a kerchief, & baseball is the only cap
A sinus headache keeps me from a nap.
When the boys are awake, usually such clatter
I often find myself asking " What is the matter?" ( with YOU????)
Tis the season for dolling out cash
Credit card bills I don't like to rehash.
I hear this Sunday we'll be getting some snow
I can feel my back hurting from deep down below
But that's ok, pretty lights will appear
Letting us know Christmas is near
Moving thru the streets, on ice we go quick
Not surprising in this house to hear me yell " Nick!"
"Leave him alone, Michael's his name!"
The constant teasing is really getting lame.
Get me on home, a cocktail I'll be mixin'
Remembering fondly days I felt like a vixen.
Ah, Christmas is not what it used to be at all,
So magical and warm when they were all small
They told me, those strangers, how time would fly
"Enjoy them now" They'd whisper as they'd walk by
And they were right, how the time flew
I was taller once, now shorter than two.
I still listen though,  for the noise on the roof,
Unfortunately it's leaks, never a hoof.
Each year at this time, my brother comes around
To CT for Christmas, reluctantly he is bound.
I'm always glad to have more under foot
Can't think of a line ending in soot.
Gifts from Grandma Bev will be breaking my back,
" I'm just doing stockings", turned into a Sack.
Each grandchild she made sure will be merry
lots of treats,  sundries and candies of cherry.
The house it is decorated, right down to the bow
On my iron chef in the kitchen, hanging for show
A tradition each year, new cleaners for their teeth,
New on the front door a self lighting wreath.
Cookie swap was today, loved the ones filled with jelly
Loved all of them actually, just look at my belly :-)
I really do try each year to be a bit more like an elf
As I age I take liberties with myself
Got some ideas for the future up In my head
Makes me feel like empty nesting is nothing to dread
I hear them calling, I must return to work,
" His name is Alex," I admonish "Don't call him a jerk"
Wishing for the power to lay a finger aside my nose

the good ol' days

Remembering mommy magic, from which all good things arose.
The sadness builds  inside me like a tea kettle whistle
Turning back time would be like finding a thistle ( in a hay stack)
I have to embrace today, for soon it will be out of sight.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.