Watching my son…

” I feel hurt, I feel betrayed. How could someone who I gave a roof to, went to bat for, bought smokes for, gave food and drink to, and stood up for a thousand times do this to me? How many times did I tell his father that this time, his son had changed? How many times did I talk to the girlfriend’s parents, standing up for my friend? And now he comes into the house and steals from me? I know that I can be a doormat sometimes but oh my god, why would he do this to me? Fool me once, shame on you… fool me twice, shame on me. I’m done, with a capital D!”

I watched the color drain from my son’s face, watched his body tense and his eyes lose a little sparkle. It was agonizing, and all I could do was listen. I knew this about his friend, have addressed it several times with both boys, even the “friend” in this instance. He is the equivalent of a human anchor that can drown my sons even in the shallowest waters. I ask him repeatedly to stay away but he always comes back and drama ensues…today is perfect proof. I watched my son physically battle the anger and frustration and disgust and betrayal. Every inch of his body reflected the emotion coursing through his mind and his heart. He lost a little something today and I saw it happen…it’s one of the hardest events I have ever witnessed or been a part of. My heart aches as I watch my son.

He continues speaking, moving onto today’s second crisis that immediately followed the first. His father, in his wisdom, decided today that since his scooter broke down (ie the engine blew up) that he would take back the vehicle my son has been working on. New battery, new tires, soon to have new power steering lines, brake lines, shocks & struts…$750 for a vehicle his father had put aside, left to rot and disintegrate in my yard. I watched my son stand up and say NO- that is NOT the way this is going down. His father replied…well you can have the truck once you officially have your license. I watched my son try to process the words he was hearing, trying to balance the theft by his friend on top of now being told his vehicle was being taken back…rage, anger, frustration, a quick flash of hopelessness, betrayal. His father saw it as well and called him selfish. (he will not have that vehicle after my son and I did all the footwork and negotiating to get those repairs completed. the truck will remain my son’s vehicle, regardless of whatever consequences and repercussions may follow.)

I watched my son battle two betrayals in a row, try to process how people can treat him this way, understand that not everyone shows the same loyalty and respect to him as he shows them. I watched him become enraged. I watched my young man mirror the upset little child he once was…I saw the same hurt, the same anger, the same sadness wash over his beautiful face. I continued to listen, inputting my “mom” only where it was needed…I sat with him, didn’t leave his side until he got up to go do boy stuff. I watched a soul splitting battle that will forever damage who my son is, how he will view the world, who he will trust, and potentially who and how he loves. I watched my son…

On me…

 

Having grown up the oldest child in a single parent household, I was given a handful of responsibility at the wise old age of 8! As the oldest child, I spent many mornings getting myself and my sister ready for school, walking together to catch the bus at the friend of the family’s house, and making sure that as we left the bus, that my sister had what she needed. School was easy, for both of us, then home to await the return of our mother…never leaving the house or yard until she returned. We weren’t unsafe in our ultra-rural town, and our neighbors watched over us. We stayed inside, cleaned the living room, made sure the kitchen wasn’t a wreck, and that our laundry was downstairs. But I was 8!

I’m thinking, in the scheme of things, that 8 is where this all started. “This all” is a high level of accountability, responsibility, expectations, and a stubborn streak that never allows me to give up. “This all” has been the biggest positive and negative in my life. “This all” to which I hold myself each day makes me someone people can count on, come to for help, depend on, and rely on. “This all” has made motivation and drive second nature for me, and introduced me to lots of people with those same goals; and to lots more without those goals. “This all” has been helpful most of my life…my mother is proud of me, a strong young woman, educated, well spoken, well respected, a good mother who holds her children to those expectations. My father things I’m the coolest, smartest, most talented woman to come down the pike since his own mother…and believe me, that is a huge compliment!!

“This all”…

Notice that “this all” doesn’t speak to the emotions, feelings, love. Granted, the love for my friends and family is a given, comes naturally, is like breathing air. But having grown up the oldest child in a single parent household, I never saw the model of a relationship, and that is where “This All” has become a hindrance in my world. I’ve been married for almost 23 years, to a single child of a single parent household…no sharing space, no sharing time or toys, no sharing of morning routines or after school rituals, just him…no expectations, no need to be motivated, no push to drive or excel but only to exist. To me, this is very sad…on a number of levels. He said it wasn’t overly lonely and that he was ok to just “settle” as it was what seemed to work in his house. SETTLE…red flag. 

On my side of the window, “this all” serves me well in getting it all done – full time job, household managed, chores complete, meals cooked, one kiddo graduated and the other within a year of completion. His side of the window – he works part time which is more than enough. K is doing her job, I’m just going to rest for 12 hours here on the couch and flip through the television channels. On my side, there’s no excuse for 12 hours on a couch unless you’re dead or really sick (and by sick, I mean a small child who is tucked in his blankets and wants to watch cartoons and movies with mom/dad). His side – Snoring now. My side – anger because there is still so much to do and accomplish and get done. His side – he twitches in his sleep. I continue the quest; keep working on laundry, dishes, whatever needs completion. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel…almost done, almost there…His side – he awakens “I’m really hungry.” My side – REALLY??? I mean “I’m going to start cooking momentarily” through a rage that nearly kills me to stifle.

This weekend, THIS ALL got the best of me and blew through my household like a dam blown apart during a tsunami. THIS ALL took hold of my voice and cut loose, very calm and honest, straightforward and with direction, clear of what changes had to evolve for anything to go any further in “our” life. It’s on me now to manage the hold that THIS ALL has over my life. It’s on me to stand by my convictions for the first time in ages. It’s on me to hold true to who I am and what I want. It’s on me if this all sounds selfish but I am married with two boys, not the single mother of three. While I cannot undo damage already inflicted, I can move into the future making better choices for myself and my children. THIS ALL, while it may be the undoing of my marriage, may reestablish the beginning of my life…at 42…the oldest daughter of a single parent household.

New beginnings…

It wasn’t so long ago that my boys were under 4 ft tall, playing and laughing, baseball was the game of choice, maybe an adventure walk with Mom, backpacks packed with snacks and juices, or just a good old fashioned day at the playground. It wasn’t so long ago that I smiled imagining their futures, who they would be as they grew up, high school…always knew they would be Bubbas, work boots, ball caps, CarrHart clothing…motorheads and big trucks (they are!). It wasn’t long ago that I imagined who would catch their eye and hold their heart, even if just for a little while as high school and teen years are often so flighty.

Where is this going, and why? I got word that my youngest son, R who is 17, is going to see the girlfriend’s family for Christmas Eve dinner. While I am thrilled, as not long ago they weren’t fans of his, it brings me to the realization that this one might be different from the rest. She fits the mold of being shorter than him (mind you he is 6 ft so that’s not a stretch for him to be taller) but the rest of the details vary from his “norm.” And that’s the one people often choose…the one outside the norm, the one that breaks tradition with the rest, and maybe that is what appeals to him about her! She is cute as a button, good curves, great sassy female personality, and no doubt could hold her own in a fight. She doesn’t wear a lot of makeup, would rather wear jeans than anything too short or tight, sneakers vs heels…you get the idea, just a regular girl! (That’s what I love about her actually!)

I remember yellow ducky feet pajamas, dinosaur pj’s, little hiking boots, and both sets of smiling sparkling blue eyes. Those fresh young faces have given way to the smiles and smirks of handsome young men, the smiles still melt my heart, and the sparkle is still there in both of their eyes. And when I imagine the future, the girl with my son, it would be this one if I could choose or at least someone like her. Her smile is infectious; she still has the deep belly laugh of a young kiddo, and my son glows when she is around. They are not the traditional clingy teens, no foaming in front of Mom or the friends, just regular hangout playdates!

But tonight is a formality of sorts…the first formal holiday with her family. It’s a new bridge for my son…”Best behavior” I told him, “Dress nice, look good, and have fun.”  “I know Moooommmmm!” is his response followed immediately by “I love you!” Good kid! As this year closes, I’m celebrating this milestone in his life, this new adventure he is embarking on, and pushing forward into the new Year with hope. I challenge my son to take every lesson he can from this new love, this new family, these new moments…learn what you like, what you don’t, and use that to propel yourself (and possibly the GF) to the next chapter.