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Posts Tagged ‘sons’

My son’s way cooler than I ever was

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 6, 2012| Leave a Comment »

This evening I checked the messages on the answering machine.  The first two-unimportant, deleted.  The next one was from a young lady calling for my EIGHT-YEAR-OLD SON!  She then called back a bit later, giggling, quickly saying she called earlier.

He called her back.  I think he was slightly nervous initially as he couldn’t dial the phone properly.  I dialed it for him and then he patiently waited as it rang and rang.  He left a message for her, a very proper message, made his dad and me proud, I must say.

A few seconds later the phone rings.  I answer it and it’s the young lady.  She asks for him and soon he’s on his first phone call with a girl.  They talked for about ten minutes.  He was very considerate, quite the conversationalist.  He was laughing.  They compared siblings.  At one point, he said he would bring his fossils over (when they have their play-date).  I whispered to my hubby, “he sounds like Ross Geller.”

Oh, and so it has begun.  The first of many phone calls.  At least this one didn’t end with a break-up.  This one was easy, other than breaking my heart just a wee bit.  He’s growing up way faster than I want him to grow up.

The six-year-old asked when girls would call him.  Soon, I said.  Soon.

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It was 1983 again

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , on March 1, 2012| Leave a Comment »

It was a surreal day because Doc Brown had come to my work with his flux capacitor and took me back to 1983.  My history teacher  from ninth grade was at the career fair today.  Of course now he is an administrator and hasn’t been in the classroom for years.  I was thrown back to the early 80s and the misery that was my life in ninth grade.

What an awful year it was.  The history class was the high point of each day.  It was an ancient civilizations course and was fun and challenging.  We studied Egypt and we went on a field trip to a natural history museum, though I don’t recall if it was in NYC or Philly.  It was a great way of escaping the stress of my life that year.  Looking back, there have been harder years, but that year still makes the top ten of hard years.

My parents had just separated and with it my whole concept of normal changed.  I think that is one of the hardest parts of divorce for children.  The normal they relied on disappears instantly and it never comes back.  The daily schedule changes-it’s now just Mom there (in most cases and specifically in my own).  While it may sound sexist and stereotypical, without the “Dad”, the house feels less safe.  This can create a new sense of fear and paranoia and for me it did.

And then suddenly it’s a big deal to see your father.  You become aware of this phrase “visitation rights” and the term “custody”.  I had never really paid attention to these words before.  Sure, I had probably heard them in a movie or television show, but because it wasn’t a part of my life, I didn’t make a connection to it.  Those words had no meaning until they directly impacted me.  Things were tense between my folks and my father became less than cheerful to be around.

My history teacher became the positive male role model in my life.  I wouldn’t go so far as to say father-figure, but I do wonder if I would have become really bitter toward men if I hadn’t been in that class.  He was nice and supportive.  I didn’t have that at home from my dad anymore so it was nice to have it come from somewhere.

School always came easily to me.  I was bright and I loved learning.  I still love learning though at times I don’t feel as bright as I did in my youth.  A year later, in tenth grade, I had become officially bored with school and was planning to drop out and take the GED instead of two more years of not being challenged.  But, in ninth grade I had a history class that was interesting and awesome.  This history teacher made it that way.

I loved learning hieroglyphics and about the culture.  The religious structure within the society, the burial rituals, the architecture and the many developments the Egyptians had made in their civilization were fascinating.  I began to get a solid sense of how old the world was and how short my life on earth would be.  This was the year when I came to understand my mortality.  Thus began my desire to contribute something of value to the world through my existence.

Many ideas of what I would contribute have come and gone with the years.  As some of them have faded, it has been an exercise in letting go of a dream, but still keeping it alive.  Dreams don’t have to die even if you aren’t pursuing them.  I searched though for some time to figure out what would be of value to others.  I had my own ideas, but many were not filled with truth or with the right purpose.  And then, boom, I figured it out.

And now I have to go tuck them into bed.

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Big yellow dog

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , , , on February 28, 2012| Leave a Comment »

If you had asked me two weeks ago how much I would miss my dog, I would have said a lot.  Ask me today and I cannot express how much I miss Brigs, though I’m apparently going to try in this post.  This house feels so very empty without that big yellow dog.  I think I was trying to fool myself that it wouldn’t be that hard because he hadn’t been upstairs for a year.  But even being downstairs, his presence was felt everywhere.  I still see him sprawled out on the family room floor.  I still hear his his metal collar clanging with his dog tags.  I still hear him.  And I have wept like a big ol’ baby, huge wailing sobs.  Not around my sons since I think it would scare them, it’s startled me a few times.

Brigadoon carried a lot of weight.  And I don’t just mean on his body.  I had a lot of emotional history attached to him.  I got Brigs while married to my ex-husband.  It was toward the end of the marriage, I just didn’t know how close to the end when we went to pick him out.  The puppy was next in a series of steps-married? Check.  House?  Check.  Yellow lab?  Check.  My ex even had the name Brigs picked out before we found a breeder.  Had to be a yellow lab and had to be a male.  I had no choice in the type of dog.  This had all been decided by my ex before we were even married, before dating for that matter.  He had set a goal at some point of having a male yellow lab when he was married and had a house.  I did get to participate in selecting the dog and we picked Brigs.

Brigs was positively adorable as a puppy.  Very sweet, very even-tempered.  I got a bunch of books and worked with him every day to train him.  This was not supported and I had an uphill battle ahead of me.  There were a lot of things that happened after we got the dog that shined a light on the major problems we were having.  Until it was more than just us, I hadn’t seen them.  The breaking point happened when I came home one day to find Brigs soaking wet in his crate and my ex watching television with a scowl on his face.  It seems that Brigs played in some puddles in the backyard (water dog) and got muddy.  My ex tried to rinse him off with the hose which the puppy interpreted as play.  My ex lost his temper with Brigs, hit him with the hose, and eventually stuck him in the crate.  The look on Brigs’ face when I had gotten home was so sad.   An argument between the ex and I then happened.

On so many levels I owed this dog so much.  My ex and I had been discussing children by this point and seeing the reaction about a muddy dog made me wonder what type of reaction would happen about a muddy kid, which even then I knew was bound to be a regular occurrence.  The inability of us to calmly discuss matters about the dog made me wonder how we would ever come to mutual decisions about children.  It couldn’t always be his way.  My voice, my opinion, didn’t matter.  While he may have intended some things to seem like compromises, it felt more like ultimatums.

The experiences with this little puppy made me re-examine my marriage and where we were and if we were actually trying to travel a path together.  The reflection brought forth the answer that we were not sharing similar visions except on a superficial level.  There were other factors, but they don’t need to be explored in such a format as this.  The point is that this dear sweet dog gave me the courage to accept that this marriage was not healthy and that changes had to be made.  The changes I suggested were refused so I accepted that it was over.

As we began the messy, ugly chore of separating our belongings, several items became bones of contention.  My Highlander sword.  That practice of ultimatums came out again.  I could have my Highlander sword OR the rest of the weapons I had collected.  I couldn’t afford to start over in my collection and so the crowning jewel of it was sacrificed.  It went this way for many items.  I let many things go by keeping my eye on the big picture.  But when it came to the pets, they all came with me.  The cats and hamster were mine in the sense that I brought them to the marriage.  The dog was technically ours, but I stated I was taking Brigs.  As he challenged me on this, I simply reminded him of the rainy day episode and said the dog comes with me.  My ex agreed.

I walked out of the marriage with basically what I walked into it with, but with a lot of debt added in because of stupid choices I agreed to over the two and a half years we were married.  I walked out without some of my optimism and that took a long time to reacquire.  Brigs helped with that because he was always just so damn happy.  His tail was always wagging and he seemed to smile when I came home to our tiny apartment.  It was a bear to find an apartment in my teeny budget that allowed dogs his size.  I only got into the place I did because I had the crate.

Brigs loved his crate!  He would go into his crate when he wanted a nap and close the gate behind him.  It was his way of saying “do not disturb”.  When he was done having his “me time”, out of the crate he’d come, tail wagging.  During those behind-closed-gate naps he would snore like nothing you’ve heard before.  Lips flapping, whole body wiggling at times, chasing bunnies with his feet running in air.  Brigadoon’s happiness and optimism helped me as I moved forward.

I also lost a lot of trust as that marriage ended.  I questioned motives, I looked for the “catch” from what people offered.  Brigs loved unconditionally and with total trust.  He helped me relearn trust.  He taught me so much about unconditional love.

But, being a human, I still had emotional memories attached to Brigs.  He represented so much about changing my life.  His existence in my life made my marriage today possible.  He helped make being a mommy possible.  And then to top it all off, even though he was four when our first son was born, he adapted to a baby so quickly.  Brigs loved having brothers!  He would position himself in front of the nursery door when I put one of the boys in for a nap.  He would guard the door!  He was protecting them.

He protected me.  Always being happy to see me protected me from becoming cynical.

As he got older, and I started thinking about the fact that he would not actually live forever, I wondered how I would feel when Brigs was gone.  I had no idea how many memories would wake up.  I had no idea how much release would come-a feeling that that marriage was really over.  Done.  Dead and buried.  Brigs was supposed to mark the beginning of that family and instead he marked the end.  And he went on to add so much to this family-to my hubby’s life, our sons’ lives, my life.

Oh, I miss that big yellow dog.

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Welcome to the fungi

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , , , on February 27, 2012| Leave a Comment »

Yep, ringworm.  The boo boo on my youngest son’s forehead is ringworm.  Yuck.  I kissed a fungus. I won’t even eat mushrooms!   The nurse’s office called me this morning.  She heard the concern in my voice and instantly calmed me by saying it was nothing serious, both boys are fine, except did I know the first grader had ringworm?  She seemed somewhat impressed that he reported I had been putting an antibiotic on it.  Pretty good for a six-year-old who typically only half listens to me.  So I took a wee break at work and got the anti-fungal cream and some hypo-allergenic band-aids.  I had put a band-aid on his little forehead the other day and he broke out where the adhesive had been.  I hope this band-aid is gentler on his little fungal infected skin.

I’ve been asking him for about a week how he got the almost perfectly round boo boo.  He stuck to his story that he and some friends were banging their heads against each other during recess.  Yes, I’m sure we could discuss that past-time for hours, but stick to the fungus.  I didn’t believe a perfect little round circle could be formed from banging heads.  Objects in the house began to stick out.  “Did you stick a Nerf dart to your forehead?”  No was the reply.  “Did you wet a marker cap and then stick it on your forehead creating suction and then pop it off to hear the noise?”  Nope he replied.  His older brother offered up the possibility of sticking a popper on his forehead, but that theory was rejected as well.  I really thought it was the Nerf dart.  Same size as the circle, a perfect match.  Alas, it was not a Nerf dart.

Where did he pick this up, I wondered.  The nurse offered up some possibilities.  Dirt.  Well, there’s the most likely answer.  With this wonderfully mild winter the boys have played outside almost every day, including digging  in the back yard and playing in the “lake” otherwise known as the kiddie pool.  They create exciting and mysterious environments in that.  They then rescue dinosaurs and Ian Malcolm from it. Who knows what is living in there.

The worst part of this whole affair?  The creepy itchy feeling I have had all day since 9:25am when the nurse called.  Uber heebie-jeebies.  The world’s most sustainable traveling itch.  And I kissed it!  I feel like Lucy when she kissed Snoopy.   The pharmacist said there was little to no issue with the fact that I kissed this particular fungus.  I will try not to obsess about it otherwise my mouth will start to itch too.  Obviously, this is not the worst part of it…my sweet little baby being attacked by a fungus is the worst part, but it’s still pretty bad.  This will not mark the end of kissing boo boos, but yech…I kissed it.

This will also not mark the end of fungal infections for my sons.  Oh, no, this is simply the beginning.  Yuck.

 

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Date Night

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , , on February 15, 2012| Leave a Comment »

I had a date this evening with an incredibly handsome young man.  He’s a little shorter than 4 feet, has dirty blond hair, and these blue eyes surrounded by the most amazing (girls are jealous because they need mascara to get these) eyelashes.  I even told my husband about the date.  He was jealous, but he let this young charmer spend the time with me.

My youngest was sick yesterday with a little stomach virus (no, not the norovirus).  We spent the whole day together.  Still, evening came and the boys were tucked into bed.  A few minutes later I heard the footsteps coming down the hallway.  Ah, my youngest, with tears streaming down his face.  He claimed to still be sick (he was using some of those brains in a most manipulative way).  After some deep conversation, the problem was identified.  He wanted more time with Mommy-without the big brother making the choices.  Ah, the root of the issue.

Birth order impacts each person greatly over the course of their lives.  When my hubby and I were gearing up to get married we attended premarital counseling.  It was awesome.  Part of it was to explore our families of origin and how they would impact the family that we were building.  You learn a lot when you look at your family objectively and identify the “roles” you are assigned.  Part of this process helped discover that as a middle child, I knew I would prefer to only have two children.  I also discovered a goal created from being a second child because I know what it’s like to live in the shadow of the older sibling.

There are very few pictures of me as a child.  My interests were echoes of my older sibling’s choices.  My schedule was often dictated by my older sibling’s many because he started his stuff before I did.  Age trumped beauty, I like to think.  😉

Anyhoo, I knew I would not let my second child wonder where were all his pictures.  No, I do not harbor deep feelings of anger toward my folks. Actually, I tease my mother about it.  At least I hope she knows I’m teasing.  But I am intentional in my efforts to level the playing field.  Still, my youngest is beginning to express his discontent about the rank of his big bro.  Big brothers do tend to boss the younger ones around.  It happens rather naturally.  But I believe in nature and nurture.

Tonight’s date included his choice of movie and no big brother.  Big brother was eventually invited to join us and then nature stepped in the picture.  We were watching School House Rock (oh, yeah, Mom was pleased with the choice) and the oldest was trying to tell his brother which one to pick next.  I’m sure you can guess the drama that followed.

Older brother really didn’t like not being the one to make the choices.  He burst into tears because “it’s not about me.”  He was quite troubled by someone else being in control.  The younger brother was delirious with the power.  Pinching was involved.  Parental speeches that echoed the speeches of Mike and Carol were delivered.  Hugs were given.  This was the first step on the road to a more balanced control of power between the brothers.  It will take many steps.  And many more Brady Bunch speeches.

All this generated an interesting declaration at bedtime.  The oldest stated that dad must be the boss of mom, mom the boss of oldest son, and oldest son boss of youngest son.  Whoa.  I quickly corrected him that Dad is not the boss of Mom.  That husbands and wives are partners.  And siblings are not bosses of each other, not are they their keepers.  The complexity of relationships will be explored for decades by these boys.  Of course, their mom is still working on relationships.  That’s the best thing I could teach them about relationships.  They always change and you never become a master at them.  You always work at them and sometimes they are beyond your control.  The only control you sometimes have is to let go of them as gracefully as you can.  And even then you’ll stumble.

Date night.  Way more than I expected.

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If you see your shadow

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , on February 2, 2012| Leave a Comment »

don’t run screaming.  There seem to be a lot of shadows that come out on February 2nd.  With the weather we’ve been having, the groundhog will be sure to see his shadow.  This is usually a time of year that the air is cold and the ground is frozen.  My bulbs are going to start growing soon!

Still, the colds come.  My oldest is down for the count with a lovely cough/congestion/fever-combo.  This always makes a long night for a mom.  You listen to the coughs, you keep an ear open for that faint call of “Mom…”, and you don’t really sleep.  This makes you very tired in the morning when you still have to take your younger, not sick, son to school.  And while you may think you’ll be able to do a little extra cleaning, or reading, or relaxing, you don’t.  Your entire focus is on the little sick one.  I don’t know about you, but when my sons are sick their little baby faces keep flashing in my mind’s eye.  I see them as they were as babies and toddlers, cuddling up to you.  I remember when Mommy was the center of their universe.  Tomorrow I will again be the center of his universe.  I know this  because tonight I was Mommy again instead of Mom.

Obviously I do not like when either of my sons are sick.  But a sick day does mean extra time with them.  Primarily uninterrupted time, when making them my only focus is the top priority of the day.  It brings me back to when I worked from home.  We would read stories or play or just sit together during my break times.  They would cuddle on my lap while I read essays.  As toddlers, they learned their numbers (up to 6) and how to use a computer mouse by clicking on the scores for me.

Tomorrow morning we’ll cuddle in bed, then move the cuddle-fest to the couch to watch cartoons on-demand till our brains turn to mush.  I’ll check his temperature too often, but he’ll say “it’s okay, Mommy”.  We’ll color with crayons, read books, take a little nap.  I will happily hold his 61 pound, 48 inch body on my lap.

We’ll have long conversations about dinosaurs.  We’ll read through his many dinosaur books for the umpteenth time.  Pokemon battles may be unavoidable, but you’re sick, I’ll humor you.  I’ll make him watch The Princess Bride (great movie to watch when one is sick-see “you’re sick, I’ll humor you”).  He’ll get to choose whatever he wants for lunch even if it requires Dad running out somewhere.  And the important life questions will flow freely throughout the day.  They usually get saved for right before bedtime, when I’m tired, but know I can’t rush through the answer because it’s truly important to him.  And it matters more than anything else at that moment.  We’ll even get to spend time together in silence.  Tomorrow Elmo’s blanket will be perfectly acceptable to cuddle.  There will be no discussion about maybe putting his stuffed animals in the attic.  He won’t claim they are his brother’s because tomorrow he’ll need them.

And then as he starts to feel better, I’ll know before I even reach for the thermometer.  I’ll go from Mommy back to Mom.

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Oh what a night….

Posted in Musings and Epiphanies, tagged , , , , , on October 29, 2011| Leave a Comment »

late December back in 63…oh, wait, it’s only late October. Then why is there a snowstorm raging on my birthday? I’m used to the crisp autumn weather on my birthday. The scent of wood burning stoves filling the air, the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, and the glow of jack-o’-lanterns lighting front porches. It’s odd watching scary movies and then looking out the window and seeing snow swirling around the sky.

Ah, birthdays. I’ve always liked my birthday. Always had Halloween themed birthday parties. It’s always festive and everywhere is decorated making for a fun time to get a little older. I don’t mind getting older. As one of my students once told me, I’m not old, I’m cultured. So I’m a bit more cultured today.

Actually, what made me feel a bit more cultured lately is watching the ever-developing relationship of my sons. They were in trouble a week ago or so and as I was talking to them (I’m sure sounding like a grown-up from Charlie Brown), I noticed they were holding hands. A little show of solidarity against the parental figure. Then last night they announced they finally feel like brothers. They said they used to feel 1/4 like brothers, then 1/2, then 1/2 and 1/4 (which I explained was 3/4), but tonight they were full brothers. I can’t say I understand it at all, but they have gotten along beautifully the past couple of days so I’m not questioning it. They did things when I asked them to the first time I asked them. They are using their manners, sharing things without being asked to, and generally being the sweetest boys I’ve ever met.

We played Doodle Dice today and went to a Harvest (Halloween) party at church. We had an awesome day. The full-fledged brothers are enjoying life quite nicely.

As much as I say I don’t understand it, I think I might. They are growing up. They are closer to each other than they each were with me, individually. They used to turn to Mom for stuff, now it makes more sense to turn to brother. They have common memories and experiences that have brought them closer. They have come to realize they share more in common, they know what each other is feeling. They know what each other is going through. I am so happy they are full-fledged brothers. This is a bond I hope they share their entire lives.

My job is clear. Support them, love them, encourage them. All the things I’ve been doing to the best of my ability. And give them their own space and time together. Let them have their secrets, their private conversations, their shared dreams. And enjoy hearing them giggle in bed as they fall asleep.

Greatest birthday gift ever.

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