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.

lesson's on the road

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

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

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

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

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

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

Imagine

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

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

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

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

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

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

am I a good parent?

Gosh, I'd like to think so. But boy can I think of lots of examples of how I'm not, or how my relationship with my kids is not all I wished it could be.
My last client of the evening, as she was leaving, remarked. "You must have an advanage over all of us, doing what you do, as a mom." I'm not sure what my expression was, I am thinking deer stuck in the headlights. I looked at her husband, who has an adult child, as well as their two little ones, and said.' Feel free to ask my kids in 10-15 years, I am sure they will have stories and opinions."  He nodded acknowledgement of the marathon that is parenting, not the crazed sprint each day feels like when your kids are under 6.

Being a mom was something I knew I wanted to be as long as I could remember. I had names, first and middle, picked out for 6 kids in my diaries of my teen years. 6 kids ala the brady bunch. well except for the widowed part. Fish fish I got half my wish ( so far)
I guess I know some stuff. I took parent training classes in my early 20's & again when I actually had kids. (GEEK)And of course years of  therapy in training to become a therapist. So yeah, I may no more then the average bear about some stuff. I was always fasinated by child development information or birth order, so I read alot.And I have a philosophy of parenting that appears to be working out so far.
 But I also learn ,with great admiration , the ways other people do things. Some of my own clients, with affectionate  & honest realationships with their teens, or listening to my sons' friends saying " love you mom" automatically when they hang up the phone (a phrase resevered for the last line of manipulating me in our house) make me feel as if I am doing something wrong. I know Alex's stoic personality, is who he is, and my job is to accept him as that and not focus on what I had hoped our realtionship would be & I feel Nick slipping into the adolescent abyss.

Luckily, on any given night, the judgement is not handed down. Parenting is a marathon and the jury is out for a while ( thank God) . So this stoic, abyss phase will hopefully pass, or atleast change bit before the third one steps off onto the swinging bridge. ( see older post) and with any luck over Thanksgiving dinner in a decade or so,  I will get my report card from the boys, or maybe over a quick bite to catch up on their lives, I will hear what I did right, or wrong. How a moment I was not really thinking about mattered, and I got it perfectly for them, or laugh at how hard I tried and failed at other times.

What I have found, is that parents who atleast ask that question I posed above, are generally in really good shape. What I am sure of is we all do the best with what we know at the time, and when we know more, we do better.
Drink plenty of water and stretch     we're going to be a while.

Sleep-overs & couples therapy

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

"Why do you ask?" I inquire.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Where were you?

I remember growing up, hearing people talk about what they remember about the day Kennedy was shot, or MLK. I know what they are talking about. There is something keen in my memory about that day. I had dropped Nick off for his 90 minute intro to Montessori school, and was at my mother's house, around the corner, when the first plane hit. My sister in law & I watched in horror and disbelief, like everyone else. The beginning of this tragic event joining our nation was happening in what was actually my childhood bedroom, where a small TVsat on a high dresser.
I called my then husband to tell him. His response, was one of the nails in the coffin of our marriage.
 I retrieved Nick from the one room building that had remained unaware of the world events until panic in the eyes of the moms coming to scoop up their babies tipped the teachers off.
Alex was in first grade. At a school he had been at for little more than a week, where I knew almost no one. How grateful I was to the Principal, a man I came to know well and grow very fond of ,who showed me on that day his philosophy of children coming first. He refused to allow radios playing on the buses and sent a teacher on each bus to make sure parents were given the choice to explain what they needed to to their kids. I spent the rest of the daytime, in our unpacked home, alternating watching my little ones play outside and running in to stand in front of the TV with the various tradesmen who were "working" at the house that day. We stood there, with our hands over our mouths at the horror on the screen. With our brains, struggling to understand. My heart was aching for lives lost, for the loved ones, for our country, and for my children's future.
It was a beautiful day, I remember that. I remember wanting to preserve the innocence of my children's right to a beautiful September afternoon. We made a picnic on the front lawn when Alex got home and they watched bugs crawl across it. In the days and weeks that followed, the country singers filled up the airwaves with tribute songs, songs of patriotism and retribution. American strength and God's power. And I cried.

Not wanting to traumatize the children, I seldom exposed them to the atrocities on TV. It seemed like a 24 hour news reel for a while. Information did leak out, they knew something bad had happened, and I explained it as plainly as I could to them.
I remember one day a few weeks after the attacks, Alex walked into the kitchen and said to me" Hey Mom, if Osama Bin Laden thinks that dying is so great ( Alex, understandably, had a hard time getting his 6 year old brain around why the terrorists would choose a suicide mission) then why is he hiding from us?"

An excellent question I thought. and a day I will never forget.
God bless all who have been lost, their families and friends, our children and God bless America.

Where were you when the world stopped turning?

The new car

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xP-Sxfntdb4


How strange it is to drive behind your child. ( and balance a camera on the steering wheel)