Category: Parenting

Parenting, Prompt Fiction

Fiction: Severing the Friendship Ties

Karen

Thursday Thread
Thursday is the day I post a bit o’ fiction.

I will just tell you, right off the bat, that this story is based on real life. Stick around, I need your input at the end.

_______________________________

Severing the Friendship Ties

Matt clutched his paper lunch bag tighter between his fingers. He hated lunch, mainly because he never knew where to sit.

And it was the only time period in the day when he had to endure Lance.

Matt stepped behind a group of teenage girls and kept a few paces back from them as they entered the lunchroom. Maybe Lance wouldn’t find him today. Maybe he wouldn’t have to listen to Lance’s loud voice or put up with this immature attitude.

He lifted his head a bit to look over the girl’s shoulder in front of him. So far, so good. The girl, sensing him behind him, glanced back and gave him a disinterested once over.

Matt flashed a lop-sided grin and moved past the girls and toward a table at the edge of the lunchroom.

The noise was deafening. But even though it was loud in the lunchroom, it was nothing compared to Lance’s boisterous antics.

He gingerly sat down and opened his bag. He smiled. He loved the lunches his mom packed for him. They were always full of good stuff. He pulled out a crust-less peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Cheez-Its, a can of root beer and a baggie stuffed with mult-colored Twizzlers.

His favorite candy.

He popped the tab on his can and looked around. He didn’t really mind eating lunch by himself. It was a welcome relief from his day – it gave him a chance to unwind and de-stress a bit before he tackled his afternoon classes.

He released a long, soft sigh and ripped open his sandwich. His fingers dug into the spongy bread and his smile grew. He loved the frozen peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, especially when they were soft and gooey. He lifted the circular sandwich to his lips when he heard it.

Lance’s voice, calling out his name.

In the middle of the lunchroom.

People began to twitter in amusement and turned their heads trying to locate him.

Many found him. And to Matt’s utter horror, so did Sarah. The girl he had been in love with since 4th grade.

He sighed and slowly lowered his sandwich, his appetite dissipating into wispy smoke.

“Matt! Dude! I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Matt didn’t answer.

“So, what’s up?”

Matt very calmly, and with precise movements, pulled out his book with one hand, and lifted his sandwich with the other.

He took a generous bite and was chewing quietly when it happened.

The temper tantrum.

“What the heck? Why are you ignoring me? What, I’m not GOOD enough for you?”

Matt tried to ignore the stares from his peers, but he knew they were looking – and laughing.

At him, most likely.

“I DON’T LIKE BEING IGNORED, MATT.” Lance crossed his arms and openly pouted.

Matt took a breath. He kept his eyes trained on his book and though he appeared outwardly calm, his heart was hammering so hard in his chest he felt light headed.

“You’re embarrassing me, Lance. I’ve already told you. I don’t want to hang out with you if you don’t learn to control yourself. I’m right here,” he glanced quickly at the boy, “you don’t have to yell.”

“WHO SAYS I’M YELLING?”

Matt just looked at him with raised eyebrows. He shook his head and went back to reading. The words wavered before his eyes and he had no idea what he was reading.

He never thought he would ever think this, let alone mean it, but he was actually looking forward to going back to class.

And away from Lance.

_______________________________

Matt? Is MK. Lance? Is MK’s “friend.” We’ll continue to call him Lance.

Let me explain …

We are now into the fourth day of the school year and MK is miserable. Not because of his teachers, his classes, or even his peers, but rather because of one lone boy – a boy he’s known since second grade.

This boy has always been loud (and in my opinion, obnoxious). And MK has always rolled with that loudness and seemed to like this boy and liked to hang out with him.

Until this year. Apparently, MK has done a bit of maturing over the summer and he no longer finds this boy quite so amusing. In fact, this boy is still stuck in grade school, apparently, because MK tells me that a lot of kids are now making fun of this boy and his loud voice and overly-dramatic gestures and attitude.

In fact, MK sort of thinks the boy acts feminine – if you catch my drift.

But that’s not even the real issue (though that makes him uncomfortable). The real issue is he’s not sure how to handle this. He’s tried talking to the boy, “Dude, you’re embarrassing me. Cut it out.” And the boy gets all bent out of shape, raises his voice and just causes a scene so that it’s just better to endure his behavior than try and confront him about it. (And yes, MK has tried to talk to him privately, but it still escalates into a problem, from what MK tells me).

MK’s other friends are too freaked out to be around Lance, so they avoid him, leaving MK holding the embarrassment. MK doesn’t know what to do. He doesn’t want to hurt this boy’s feelings, he’s tried talking to him but Lance doesn’t seem to get the message.

MK is now thinking about emailing the boy – maybe Lance will actually LISTEN to what he has to say instead of making a scene and getting all defensive.

What would you advise your son to do if you were in my shoes?

EDIT: MK and his friend talked on the phone last night. He told the friend that he’s under a lot of stress this year with all of his music activities and he doesn’t have time to stress about his freinds’ behaviors. I was very impressed with how he handled himself – he was very mature and understanding, “I know you’re like that … I understand … but this is how I feel.”

I don’t know if anything was resolved but it was a very proud momma moment – we are really raising this kid right. It’ll be interesting to see how this kid handles the “truth.” Hey, if you don’t have honesty, then what do you have.

Parenting

Parenting: Pity Fest

Karen

It’s been a pity-fest at my house this week.

Biding Time

The boys survived their punishment. Actually, MK is off groundness (is that a word?) today – GD still has another full week of no video games or computer. I’m sure I’ll be forced to endure yet another few days of heavy sighs and stubborn silence from the boy as he’ll be so jealous of his little brother having his privileges back that he won’t be able to keep his eye on the ball of reality.

In case you’re just stumbling into my block of cyberspace – we had a pretty ugly scene at my house last Sunday. The boys not only tested their boundaries, they erected a tent and tried to camp out on the other side of “let’s see how far we can piss mom off before something bad happens.” I won’t go into the sordid details again, you can read about it if you wish, but suffice it to say, this past week … sucked.

Both boys watched more TV this past week than I think they have in the past year. My boys are not into TV, at all. They LIVE for their video games and online interaction with their “friends.” So, when they do something unacceptable such as, oh, I don’t know, hit me or curse in my face, then you bet we’re going to step in and take their precious LIVES away from them.

Humpf.

The first few days after the incident, and they realized their punishment, were torture. None of us spoke to each other. We were all walking on pins and needles – GD was nearly impossible to be around. He sent me so many hate looks that I’m surprised I’m not a walking, smoking skeleton. Which I don’t quite understand considering he was the one who disrespected me and who, in my opinion, got off pretty light with only being grounded two weeks. And at first, I felt pretty guilty about my participation in the ugliness. I’m a fair person, I absolutely take responsibility for my part, in anything I screw up in.

But enough is enough. Stop with the pouting and stop acting like a spoiled brat. What happened, happened. You can’t take it back, we can only learn from that bitter experiment (and I’m including myself in on that hard lesson learned, too), and move forward.

It’s our fault, really. We’ve spoiled our boys. They have everything they could possibly want. They get nearly everything they want, either from gifts (birthday or Christmas, we rarely buy them anything any other time), or with their own money they’ve saved up from their grandmas’ generosity. They are content, and believe it or not, happy, most of the time. And we’ve told them that we’re happy to spoil them as long as they follow the rules, do well in school, and just BE good people, step outside those guidelines and all bets are off.

But we’re in the teenage years. And even though I hate labeling or making excuses for irrational behavior, it is what it is. GD is trying to push out of the box that I’ve had him trapped in for most of his life. I know this, I get this. I WANT him to exert his independence and I’m trying really hard to give him a little rope, but to be THIS pissed off, to be THIS bored and refusing to even TRY to take an interest in anything BUT his games/computer, has me a little worried. No, scratch that, I’m worried. Is it healthy to be THAT focused (as the hubs calls it – I prefer OBSESSED) on just one thing in your life? Shouldn’t he have other interests? Shouldn’t he CARE about anything – something – other than one aspect of his life?

But GD has always been this way. Even as a baby, I couldn’t get him interested in ANYTHING outside of trains. The boy was positively obsessed with trains. It seriously worried me. But what can you do? The boy liked his choo-choos. Finally, he outgrew trains only to divert his obsession to Pokemon/Drazon Ball Z/Yu-Gi-Oh.

This phase lasted for another handful of years. He collected cards, he had every game, he dressed up as a Dragon Ball Z character for Halloween, he went to Yu-Gi-Oh tournaments and “battled” other kids. It was insane. I tried to get him interested in other things. In fact, a few summers, I MADE the boy take breaks and tried to interest him in paint-by-numbers, reading, or doing something physical, like shooting hoops or going swimming.

And though GD would do these things, he only did them because I made him. He had one eye trained on the clock the entire time, just biding his time until he could back to what really interested him.

*sigh*

MK likes his video games, but he’s more diverse. He at least makes an ATTEMPT to enjoy other things. In fact, give the boy a stick and a rubber band and he can entertain himself for hours. Not so with GD. The boy is focused. The hubs keeps reassuring me that this is a good trait, I’m not quite so sure, if you want the truth. There’s being a perfectionist, then there’s irrationally obsessive. It’s all or nothing for GD.

When GD and I talked about “the incident”, I apologized for my role in the theatrics. I opened my heart to him and told him things I’ve never told him before. GD now understands me a bit better. He now realizes that I’m weak in so many ways and that I’m not only human, I get hurt and am hurt by the way he acts sometimes.

Instead of being compassionate, which is normally his reaction, he’s been cold and rude. I think he sees my confession as a sign of weakness. I think he thinks that he can now walk all over me and is looking for ways to take advantage of me at every turn.

Does this boy never learn? I can’t believe he still doesn’t know me well enough to know that that will NEVER happen. I’m fair, but I’m stubborn. I’m still his mom and he still has to live by our rules. We may negotiate and re-evaluate those rules as he gets older, but the bottom line? They are our rules and he must respect that, take it or lump it.

I’m all about tough love, baby. I’m all about teaching my boys respect, courtesy and getting along with people. Even if that means they hate me for a while until they learn those lessons.

*sigh* Is it time for school to start yet?

*Update: To add insult to injury, GD went and had his elastics put on his teeth today. He’s about three months shy of having his braces removed and apparently, elastics are the final stage. As a result of these rubber bands being in his mouth? He’s TERRIBLY self-conscious. So, to say the boy is cranky would be putting it mildly. AARGH!

null
writefromkaren.com

Parenting

Parenting: Making Sense Out of Chaos

Karen

Believe it or not, it’s not all cotton candy, singing unicorns or shimmering rainbows at my place. I purposefully don’t tell you the awkward/ugly moments because well, I don’t like to air my dirty laundry and the problems that we may have are really no one’s business but ours. Though you rarely hear about the bad stuff, trust me when I say, it happens.

Now before any of you get the idea that I have more angst than I can handle, let me explain something. My life is pretty great. I know you don’t want to hear that because it’s like reading a story with no conflict, how totally boring, right? But I’m being quite honest when I say, I have an amazing, hard-working husband who patiently allows me to stay home and pursue my interests (which, coincidentally may or may not make money) and two boys who are sweet, caring, smart and work really hard please us. My life, for about 98.9% of the time, is conflict free. We all peacefully coexist and as long as everyone does what I say, we’re all happy.

Heh.

BUT …

We are FAR from perfect. Especially me. If I were to be perfectly honest with you, and this post? It’s going to be brutally honest (in a reveal-not-too-much sort of way); I’m probably THE single, and biggest, problem in my family. I have a RED HOT, FIERY temper that gets the best of me. Hot lava spews from my mouth when my temper flares and I’m left grabbling with a guilty conscience for a long time afterwards – years even. In fact, when I’m “a mood”, I KNOW it’s happening. And I KNOW what I’m doing is irrational, asinine and totally over the top. And I even TELL MYSELF to shut up, to calm down, to step back and breathe because I’m going to do something I’m going to regret and …

I ignore that voice of reason and afterwards? Chock the experience up to yet another one of my incredibly stupid, lost-my-head, wife/parent moments.

I’m a good mother, I’m not a great mother. And if you know me, please don’t sit there and think, “Oh, what are you talking about. You’re a great mother.”

No people, I’m not. I’m very, very human; I’m incredibly short and impatient with people, perhaps more so with my family than with outsiders, and I make mistakes. Not all the time, I have a bit more self-control than that, but when the mistakes happen? THEY ARE WHOPPERS.

My family is WELL AWARE of my temper. In fact, it’s safe to say that my guys are pretty much experts at walking on eggshells by this time because though I’m a pretty reasonable person three weeks out of four, it’s that fourth week that’s the killer.

My hormones don’t rage – they have a freaking war. Again, there is a part of me that KNOWS this is happening. And that part is constantly trying to soothe me down and coax me away from the pit of hell, but it’s like one person speaking in a normal voice in a room full of shrieking babies – I just don’t hear it most of the time. And okay, since we’re being honest here, sometimes I ignore it. I succumb to my physical war and everything EVERY. THING. sets me off.

“I’m sorry, did you just give me a dirty look?” ROAR.

“You did NOT just say that to me.” ROAR.

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, young man.” ROAR.

“Did you just SIGH at me??” ROAR.

Really, it’s that stupid. I know this, my family knows this and yet, I fall into that stupid trap nearly every month. And sometimes, I can’t even blame Moaning Myrtle, sometimes I’m just simply touchy.

And just think, I’m not even menopausal yet. (Well, actually I could be … but that’s a different post and a different set of problems).

I have my boys under my thumb. I control them. Wow, I’m not proud to say that. But it’s true. We’ve always had a pretty strict routine, one which the boys have followed, whether they liked it or not.

Now that my boys are teenagers, the control thing? Doesn’t fly with them, things have changed. Even though I’ve fought tooth-and-nail to keep our lives the same, I’m losing control. I don’t like it, and it drives me insane at times, but it’s a necessary part of life. I can’t control them anymore. I shouldn’t have to and quite honestly, I don’t want to. But gosh darn it, I don’t know HOW to let go of that control. When they were controlled, I could protect them from life’s unpleasant moments. I could shield them from being hurt, both physically and emotionally.

And now? There are too many things, too many factors, both physically and emotionally, and I can’t juggle them all. I’m losing issues, one-by-one, the balls I’ve been juggling all of these years? Are beginning to fall.

And I REALIZE this is how it should be. The rational part of my brain WANTS these kids to be independent, to make their own decisions, and yes, even make their own mistakes. But the MATERNAL instinct in me is having a really, REALLY, hard time coming to terms with this.

Sunday night, GD was playing Halo with his good pal and buddy. He was trying to walk him through a difficult storyboard and it was lasting forever. In fact, it lasted well past his bedtime. And I warned him, repeatedly, for 40 MINUTES that he needed to wrap it up, say goodbye, it was time to get off. We have rules, and the boys know these rules.

After 40 minutes and I couldn’t see any end in sight, I lost my temper. Now the situation had morphed into a question of control. GD was pushing his limits. He knew it, I knew it. I had warned him that if he didn’t get off the game in five minutes, I would unplug the router and he would lose his internet connection (which, btw, I unplug every night so the boy doesn’t sneak back onto his computer).

I unplugged the router and the boy lost his connection. He also completely lost his temper. GD is a pretty passive sort of personality so the fact that he got that mad, that quickly, threw me for a loop. He told me, in no uncertain terms, to go do something, something I won’t repeat here. I was shocked. He had never spoken to me like that before and I reacted. He in turn, hit me.

It wasn’t a punch but more of a slap. And I think it surprised him as much as it surprised me. Again, I was shocked and immediately lost my cool. Suffice it to say, things REALLY escalated from that point on (nothing physical, but a lot of shouting) and I had to walk away or I would kill the boy.

I stuck my feet into my flip-flops and I left. I drove to a church parking lot and listened to music for an hour to give myself time to cool off. Because I knew, that if I had stayed, given my temper, things would really get out of control.

The husband had slept through this whole thing. He had gone to bed because he needed to get up and go to work the next day. He had no idea any of this went down until the next morning.

I said some things that I really, truly, honestly regret. And GD? If you ever read this, please know this. I felt small, vulnerable, hurt, and fragile. I had lost control of the situation, of myself, and I wasn’t sure how to make it better. What now? This was a pretty serious thing. A child does NOT hit his mother. Though I understand his anger, his frustration and that what happened was in the heat of the moment and he was certainly goaded, the bottom line was, he disrespected me.

But didn’t I do the same thing to him?

The next morning, I sat down and talked to MK (he was up before GD). Unfortunately, MK witnessed the whole ugly scene because he was playing the game with this brother. In fact, he was caught between a rock and a hard place – he knew he needed to get off, but he knew that if he quit the game before it was over, his brother would be furious with him. We talked about how there would be times in his life that that happened, that he would have to make a decision, the one he knew was right in his heart, even if it meant upsetting someone. It was a life lesson he’s not likely to forget.

And then GD woke up. And we talked.

The conversation took an unexpected turn. I had expected to rant and rave and just be a total dick to my son, but actually, I ended up explaining why I am the way I am to him. I apologized for my behavior and asked him for help – I needed help letting him go. He also apologized for the way he acted and explained to me why he lashed out the way he did. There was a lot of crying, a lot of soul searching and I think (hope) we cleared the air on a lot of issues that had been building up over time.

And the time has come to let go of my son. Not completely, it’ll never be completely, but enough so that he can breathe. Enough so that he can start making his own decisions and simply live his life without fear of bumping into me at every turn. He’ll be a sophomore this year. He’s about to face a lot of grown up issues – issues that he insists he needs to make on his own. Issues I will try my absolute best to let him make on his own. He knows I’m there if he needs me, I’m his backup plan, his safety net (which is something I’ve always pounded into the boys’ heads – always have a plan B), but wow, this is going to be hard on me. I hope I have the strength to back off and allow whatever needs to happen, happen.

The hubs was not happy with the situation. In fact, I’m very grateful he had the strength to dole out the punishment because I simply felt too guilty to do it. But children can’t be allowed to act that way toward their parents without some repercussions. MK is grounded for a week (because he didn’t make the right decision – he continued playing when he knew he shouldn’t have been) and GD is grounded for two weeks for the way he treated me. Neither can get on the computer, or play video games.

This has been especially hard on GD because games are all the boy lives for. But as I explained to him, sometimes it’s necessary to stop and breathe, to step back and gain some real life perspective. And that includes anything that takes our complete attention away from reality (like blogging, for instance. And yes, I’ve been setting examples by shutting my monitor off, walking away and doing something else for a while).

I don’t know who learned more from our nasty Sunday night episode – GD or me.

Parenting

Parenting: To Push, Or Not To Push

Karen

For those of you new to this blog (WELCOME! By the way), my oldest son, Game Dude, GD for short, is 15 going on 12. Catch my drift? He’s a MITE immature for his age.

At least I think so. And I think maybe that’s a large part of my problem.

null
GD hit puberty, at full speed ahead, at the age of 13. It was so weird, and you hear this all the time, but I swear it’s true in my case, he suddenly grew two inches overnight. He used to whine and complain about the pain in his legs and would have to sleep with a heating pad just to help alleviate the pain. When I asked the doctor about it? “Growing pains.” That’s how fast he physically grew. His bones could barely keep up with his pubescent demands.

In addition to his sudden growth spurt, his voice dropped ten octaves and his body took on a plastic, gangly appearance. His walk changed from an uncertain little boy stride, to a big uncertain boy strut. His arches fell and his suddenly cute, narrow, little feet turned into big, thick, ugly flat man feet. (I’m not a big feet person in general so really, I think all feet, especially men feet, are nasty. Except for baby toes. I have a weakness for baby toes. Go figure).

After the initial shock wore off of seeing my baby (who was born 8 weeks early and who the doctors warned us might never catch up to his peers both physically and mentally *snort*) suddenly sprout into this unknown being, I was left grappling to understand this new … person. My boy has evolved into this strange, emotionally explosive, obstinate, mysterious …. MAN. I can almost pinpoint the day the changes happened, that’s how drastic they were.

He started high school last year. And he appeared to be in the top ten percent of his class as far as puberty progress. His voice was (and still is to a large degree) much deeper than his peers. He’s terribly self-conscious about his deep voice and in fact, told me in a rare sharing moment with me the other day that he thinks one big reason he doesn’t actually TALK is because of his voice. When I asked him if anyone had made fun of his voice, he said no. But that whenever he met anyone new, or talked to an old friend after a certain time period had elapsed, he/she nearly always commented on his voice.

I’ll be perfectly frank with you, the boy has a sexy voice (that almost makes me gag to say that out loud because this is my son we’re talking about, but I’m trying to be impartial and look at him as a young girl would look at him). It’s deep, not baritone deep, but pretty gosh darn close. And I’ve told him that girls really dig a deep voice and dark, mysterious bedroom eyes. (His iris’ are so dark brown, they look nearly black and you can’t see his pupils – they’re dark and foreboding and he’s got one HECK of a death stare, let me tell you).

He stopped me there. His face was flushed with embarrassment and his breathing was erratic – that’s how uncomfortable I had made him feel (and to be honest, again, I wasn’t exactly hip on telling him these things. I don’t WANT some floozy thinking my baby is sexy). And yet, I could tell, by his small, satisfied smile, that my words had indeed sunk in and he was … pleased with himself.

Of course, he’s a teenage boy – that feeling MIGHT have lasted three minutes, if I’m lucky, before the insecurities came pouring back in.

But even after witnessing these changes in him, after being a reluctant passenger on his emotional roller coaster for the past two years, I was still in denial. I refused to budge an inch on bed time and on other various rules we had established for the boys growing up. I looked at him and saw my adorable, shy, charming little boy from yesteryear …

Until we went swimming this past Sunday.

The place was packed. Our park board has made some changes and now our favorite pool, the one where the boys and I went nearly every day, is now only open Thursday through Sunday (that’s another issue – don’t get me started).

It wasn’t until GD peeled off his shirt and jumped into the water to play catch with his little brother that I saw it.

And I’m pretty sure I gasped because it caught the hubs’ attention. GD had a thick patch of dark hair under each of his arms.

And his legs … were so hairy! And is that … omg, is that the beginnings of a mustache I see on his upper lip?! Why did I not notice that before?!

I sort of freaked out, if you want the truth. For you see, GD is at that stage where he’s very self-conscious about his body. So, he wears jeans, all the time. So I’ve never really noticed how his legs have changed. In fact, there is a lot about GD’s body I haven’t noticed before because he’s always been dressed around the house (which as it should be, thankyouverymuch).

So looking at him, at the pool, in just his swim trunks, was … weird. WHO WAS THIS PERSON?! WHERE DID MY LITTLE BOY GO?! I know this sounds cliché but dad gum it, that’s exactly how I felt. It felt like someone had punched me in the chest – I couldn’t breathe and I had little black spots in front of my eyes.

My son has turned into a man and I was still treating him like a little boy! NO WONDER we’ve been at each other’s throats these past months.

Granted, he has PHYSICALLY matured, but he still has a long way to go EMOTIONALLY. Or at least, I think so. And there again, I’m uncertain. He’s immature according to what standards? Mine? Since when did what I think, or my personal standards or definition of maturity become the norm for everyone else?

I keep telling you that I don’t want my little boy to grow up. But now I’m not so certain that’s truly how I feel. I think, a big reason we’ve been prickly with each other is because I want him to grow up faster than he’s ready for. I think, unconsciously, I’ve been pushing him to think about his future, to accept more responsibility, to take his learner’s permit test, because I have subconsciously seen what my conscious mind refused to acknowledge. He is physically maturing, naturally, his emotional development would be maturing, too.

But I don’t think it has. He’s still just a little boy inside and I’m scaring him by trying to push him into adulthood.

And what exactly is my hurry, anyway? WHY again is it so important that he learn to drive right now? Aren’t I opening a can of worms when I don’t necessarily have to? He doesn’t want to learn, he has taken virtually no interest in wanting to learn to drive. We’ve gone shopping for cars, he could only force himself to work up a small amount of enthusiasm and I suspect that small amount was only for our benefit. The husband has printed off the driving manual from the DMV online, and he has only glanced at it. Why are we pushing this issue with him?

I can’t tell you the number of people I’ve talked to who have told me that they either knew someone, or they themselves, didn’t start driving until they were 17/18/19. I think I actually didn’t start driving until I was 17. I don’t remember having a BURNING desire to learn to drive at 15/16. Why am I so hell-bent on pushing GD into driving?

Why am I so hell-bent on pushing the boy to grow up? Because I want him to? Because I think this is how he should behave? Am I really THAT controlling of a person?

Geez. How pathetic. When I step back and look at this issue, really look at it from a practical standpoint, it’s asinine. As a parent, WHY would I want to put myself in a position where I’m wringing my hands worrying about whether he’s okay out there in the “wild” with his friends. WHY would I want to put myself in a position where I’m worrying about him being out, alone, with the opposite sex. WHY would I want to create stressful situations when I don’t have to?

So he hasn’t expressed an interest in driving. So what? He’s only 15. It’s not like he’s 25, jobless and still living at home with us. He’s 15. He’s still trying to navigate his way through life, why am I forcing him to think about navigating our city streets? (And the crazy, stupid drivers that we seem to have an abundance of in these here parts).

This isn’t a contest. There are no winners. He doesn’t have to do everything before, or even the same time as, his peers. He’ll do it when he’s good and ready to do it. I just need to step off, relax, and enjoy him right now, as is, and stop trying to make him into a person I THINK he needs to be.

I honestly don’t understand my problem. I don’t understand my need to push other people into doing what I want them to do. (I don’t just do this with my sons, I find myself doing this, on various levels, with virtually every person I encounter in life). It’s crazy. I realize I’m doing it, and yet, I do it and then am disappointed when people don’t respond the way I want them to.

I really must chill.

I guess I’m just scared of missing that window of opportunity, you know? For example, when kids are little, there is a certain developmentally appropriate age to teach them to ride a bike. And if you miss that time frame, then it’s harder for the kid to learn to ride a bike. Or when an adult reaches a certain age, it’s harder for him/her to learn a foreign language. I don’t want to be so reluctant for my kids to grow up that I miss that window and then they never want to grow up. They end up being slackers, living at home and playing video games in dark rooms, you know?

I guess I’m so focused on wanting him to be successful that I’m pushing him too hard too fast. It’s maddening to me to NOT KNOW when to push and when to back off. I’m going to try, very hard, to back off and follow GD’s lead from now on. I will try, but I’m not making any promises.

null
writefromkaren.com

Parenting

Parenting: Do You Like Your Childrens’ Friends?

Karen

I have to admit, most of my boys’ friends are pretty cool. And by cool, I mean respectful, smart, funny and generally well-behaved and well-rounded kids.

But I also have to be honest – there are a few that make me uneasy.

GD – My Oldest Son

GD is a quiet, shy, introspective boy. He rarely initiates conversation but it’s pretty obvious when something is on his mind and he wants to talk (he chooses to hang around me, asks me questions about what I’m doing, etc. I’ve come to recognize that as his need to talk to me about something).

GD has always had a handful of friends, and about three really good friends throughout his young life. They haven’t always been the same three friends, but their personalities were very similar in nature. He either simply didn’t want to make the effort to get to know more kids, or he was too shy to make the effort (I suspect the latter). And the friends he’s made over the years were pretty good boys, save for the one friend in the bunch who was sort of a rebel – i.e. crazy hair, tough talker, rough and tumble attitude; he’s always looked up to that sort of personality – again, I’m assuming because he’s simply NOT that way.

GD met our neighbor’s grandson when he was quite little, I believe he was two and this little boy was three when they first met in our backyard. They have become fast friends over the years. The little boy, let’s call him Dan, would come over every Friday night, when he came over to visit his grandparents, and play with GD and later MK.

Dan doesn’t have a father. I don’t believe his parents were married, but were planning on getting married shortly after Dan was born. However, Dan’s father committed suicide (we really don’t know much more than that because we’ve never asked – it’s not exactly something you bring up in casual conversation) and as a result, Dan has always sort of looked on the husband as his surrogate father growing up. Though this has made the hubs a bit uncomfortable, he has understood the boy’s need to have a male role model in his life.

But because Dan doesn’t have a consistent male role model in his life, he’s a bit on the wild side. He routinely gets into trouble and I think it’s largely due to the fact that he’s alone a lot (his mom works a lot of long hours) and he needs attention. Case in point: The boy got his learner’s permit. And then raced a buddy of his through his neighborhood (his mom bought him a car so he could drive himself to school, even though he didn’t have a licensed driver with him – his mom is a bit on the immature side herself, she tries to be more his friend as opposed to his mother). Dan and his buddy crashed their cars. The police came, gave Dan four tickets and now he can’t get a license until he’s 18.

GD and I talk about this boy’s wild nature – A LOT. We talk about his mistakes and the possible reasons WHY he does the things does in the first place. I am constantly telling GD that I think he’s a good influence on Dan because he’s a lot more calm and level-headed than his friend is – they complement each other. And I think Dan might be good for GD on some level because he helps GD not be so … timid about things, to take a chance once in a while (which could both be a good thing and a bad thing). I think I partly encourage the friendship because A. the few times I’ve voiced any sort of harsh criticism about Dan, GD has shut down and become obstinate, so to continue to discourage him from this friendship might actually backfire on me and B. I feel sorry for Dan. He doesn’t really have a “parent” in his life, per se, and I sometimes feel like he seeks me and the hubs out for guidance. I can’t let him down by turning my back on him.

GD is a great kid, he truly is. He has a level head on his shoulders, he has a strong sense of right and wrong, and we’ve helped instill a firm spiritual balance in his life. But, he’s quiet, and shy and I often wonder just how strong he really is when it comes to peer pressure. He’s already told me that he’s witnessed quite a few drug exchanges at his school, in the hallways and in front of oblivious teachers, but he has assured me that none of those so-called “friends” have ever offered him anything; I only pray he’s right.

Sometimes I wonder if his reluctance to grow up, to take on more responsibilities is so that he won’t have to put himself in a situation where he’ll be confronted with peer pressure. He doesn’t hang out with anybody from school and I pick him up from school everyday so he’s not hanging around long enough for anyone to approach him. I often wonder, if/when he’s in a peer-pressured situation, just how he will handle it. Given his quiet, shy personality, I worry.

MK – my youngest son.

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you know my boys are polar opposites. One boy likes jelly, the other doesn’t. One boy is blonde/blue-eyed, the other brown/brown-eyed. Their personalities are totally different and their choice in friends are totally different. MK prefers to hang out with friends who aren’t afraid to be … different. They are a bit zany, goofy, have a huge sense of humor and don’t really care what other’s think.

MK’s friends are loud – I don’t do loud very well. As a result, I honestly can’t handle his friends hanging out over here very often because it just grates on my nerves. But they are nice, sweet kids – they’re just LOUD.

MK has a lot of friends. Well, he has a lot of people he calls friends; I’m not so sure these other people have lumped MK in the same category. MK also wears his heart on his sleeve and gets his feelings hurt really easily. We’ve talked, at length, that there will be times when you simply have to give up. You’re nice to someone, you bend over backwards for them, several times, and yet, they continue to take advantage of your good nature. There are people out there that will simply walk all over you if they sense they can.

MK has learned a lot of tough lessons these past years when it came to his friends. Now that he’s in middle school, he’s especially aware of how people change when they start hanging out with a different crowd of kids.

Case in point: His best friend all throughout grade school, let’s call him Abe, started hanging out with the “cool” kids at school. And by “cool”, I mean the kids who make fun of other kids, who wear a lot of black, curse just to show off and who are generally mean kids but who everyone has, for some reason or other, labeled “cool.”

Abe’s personality began to change. He no longer goofed around with MK, in fact, he started ignoring MK. Though (to my knowledge) he was never one of the kids to make fun of MK, he didn’t exactly come to his defense, either.

This change broke MK’s heart. I remember picking him up from school, his face downcast, his normally bubbly personality subdued and I knew, I just knew, the other kids had been mean to him. But I was patient and after a while, he opened up to me. He explained the situation with Abe and he told me that it really hurt to have his best friend reject him like that.

Since then, Abe has ping-ponged back and forth, between this “cool” group of kids and being MK’s friend. I can’t tell you the NUMBER of long, heart-felt conversations we’ve had about this situation and I’ve been impressed with how much MK really understands – about Abe’s insecurity and his need to be something he wasn’t. I have to admire MK for his conviction to remain true to himself. Though it’s hurt, MK has never once tried to “conform.” He’s taken it on the chin and then kept on going. If anything, this experience has taught him to be himself and he’s learning that if people don’t accept him for him, screw ’em.

This past year has been a real eye-opener for both of my boys in the friendship arena. They have learned a lot by watching their friends and (hopefully) learning from their mistakes. I’ve taken advantage of these experiences to teach them some valuable life lessons – I pray they’ve been listening.

So far, I’ve been pretty lucky in the fact that I haven’t had to deal with my boys’ difficult friends. The friends I’ve met have been pretty cool kids. And the “friends” I’ve heard about have had problems, but my boys seem to be focusing more on trying to help these kids as opposed to trying to be like these kids.

Letting your kids go, to allow them to be influenced by so many different personalities, is so hard. It’s the unknown, it’s the not knowing what exactly is going on or what is happening around my kids while they are at school that sometimes keeps me up at night. I pray to God that we’re being a positive influence on them and that they aren’t tricked, coerced, or charmed into doing something they know is wrong by any so called “friends.”

Your turn: Tell me about your childrens’ friends. Do you like them? Do you think they are good influences?

null
writefromkaren.com