Feeling Far Away

Feels like I'm never going to get back to critique group.

Since I started the new job, my personal life has taken a back seat. Figured we'd eventually get things settled back down to where I could get back involved in my personal pursuits again.

Now I'm beginning to wonder if it will ever happen.

Feeling a little sorry for myself and far removed from my writing. But at least I am thinking about it again. On my way home from work tonight, I had some scenes from one of my previously finished books pop into my head. Been thinking a little bit about the book I'd started working on before I miraculously got this job.

It'll come again - at least I sure hope it will.

Singing and writing are my soul - my passion. Haven't gotten to do a whole lot of either lately (except I did get to sing a small solo part with our choir this past Sunday).

My son is busy with life and living, which as he grows older and gets his own car someday will mean I'll have more time to myself again.

That means more writing.

Until then, I'll have to put up with this sense of distance - of missing my fellow wordsmiths.

Of feeling far away.

I'm Rather Biased

This afternoon and evening was my son's forensics tournament. They were the hosts and I was a judge.

Oh the power!

I haven't participated in all of this since I was in school. It was fun to see it from the other side of the room as a judge.

When we had a break, we spent it in the hospitality room eating goodies the kids' parents provided (me being one of them). Some of the kids picked up conversation with us about what we were doing and had fun talking about the differences in forensics between now and when we were kids.

When I was a senior we did a short piece from a play we'd put on earlier in the season - probably about five of us. Apparently they don't have that as a category anymore. They don't do improv either. Drat!

Participating in these types of events provide wonderous opportunity to find out what your kid is like when he is away from you too. It seems that my son can be alot more animated in certain classes and around certain people.

I knew he could be with his close buddies but hadn't ever realized he was that way at school. School has always been "boring" - oh, that dreaded "b" word. So find me surprised to learn from several of the students that he's alot of fun in forensics class and choir.

By the way, several girls even told me that he was the best tenor in the entire choir. Of course, I've always thought that but then I'm a bit biased. Are they too maybe? Hmm, hmmm, hmmmm?

Tee-hee! I had so much fun getting behind the scenes looks at my son and how school activities operate nowdays. It's amazing the things you find out about your kids when you talk to some of their cohorts without your kid around.

Just to give my son's ego a little boost, I told him what some of his fellow students commented about his singing ability. Wouldn't tell him who, because that wasn't the material point, just that he is well-respected when it comes to his singing.

And his humor. Too bad he didn't get to participate in the humerous interp. Have a feeling he could have brought down the house with that one.

Then again, I'm rather biased.

Rebuilding What Is Broken

Parenting can be hard sometimes.

A dear friend of mine has had a devil of a time with her daughters. The tug-of-war with her ex-spouse hasn't helped either, but she's trying her best to maintain a somewhat stable relationship with them.

Kids sure need that - from both of their parents.

Can't tell you how many people I know who deal with the tug-of-war. In most cases it seems one spouse cannot let go of the other spouse - more likely their anger at the other spouse - and so use the kids to try and get back at their former squeeze.

It's never a pretty picture. The kids are the ones who usually end up so emotionally scarred from the battles, and you know what they say? Hurt people hurt people. The whole thing becomes a vicious cycle that can be perpetrated for generations to come.

One thing I've learned in watching my friend go through her battles is that at some point you have to let go of trying to understand or control the other individual. No, it isn't fair that he continues dragging her and the kids back through court all the time, but news flash! Life is never fair, and it's time more parents understood this.

Doesn't mean she just bends over and grabs the ankles. Doesn't mean she gives up on her kids. But somewhere along the line you have to decide what is ultimately going to be best for everyone, not just yourself.

My friend? She ended up letting her ex-husband have primary custody of her girls. You know what? One came back to her on her own volition. The relationship with the other one improved dramatically because the ex stopped fighting with her. No child support to fight over and no relationships to continue tearing apart.

Rebuilding what has been torn down is hard work. First there's the clean-up before reconstruction can begin. Then there's the preparation of the groundwork and laying of the foundations. None of it happens overnight.

But I think time is on their side.

Going, Going - Gone!

I’m terribly disappointed this evening.

Took my son down to stay with his dad for the weekend. Got quite a shock when they started talking about him shaving off his beard.

Say what????

They must have been discussing this on the phone the last couple of weeks, because it came as quite the surprise to me. My son hadn’t mentioned a word. When I asked him about it this evening, he just shrugged and said it would grow back.

What about how manly it made him feel? What about all the positive comments and compliments he’d received from his fellow students? He’d created a bit of a stir the first few days of the new school year, being one of a handful of high school students even able to sport a full mustache and beard.

I left there stark raving mad. Somewhere along the way, he’d allowed his dad to talk him into doing this. If it was truly what my son wanted then that was understandable. From his body language and just a gut feeling, I get the impression this isn’t really what he wanted.

With my son’s knowledge, my mom bought him a very nice electric mustache and beard trimmer for his upcoming birthday. He was really looking forward to getting it next week. When I arrived home after dropping off my son, I had to call my mother to vent. She was almost as shocked as I.

When I’d left for Chicago, my mother came up here to stay with my son and feed him in my absence. They talked about how his beard made him feel. They went shopping together (something my son tries to avoid) so he could pick out the trimmer he wanted. My mother almost went ahead and gave it to him early because he was so excited.

Yes, my son is correct. His beard will grow back, but that isn’t the point. In several sessions with his counselor, they’ve talked about him being more forthcoming with who he is inside and what he really thinks instead of just telling people what he believes they want to hear. Now I’m afraid he may have agreed to something to placate his dad instead of because it’s what he wants.

For the sake of disclosure, I realize this just brings to the surface my own issues with what I think of his father (or lack thereof). But I want my son to decide to wear a beard or shave it based upon what he likes for himself, not what I or his father think is best. He’s old enough to make this decision (it’s only hair anyway). Must admit, I wasn’t really keen on the whole beard thing when he first started growing it, but I also saw how it made him feel good about himself and how others responded to him because of it.

Hmmm – maybe, just maybe he might be feeling the need for a fresh start on the beard. Maybe he just wants to see how people will treat him when he goes back to being baby-faced again. Maybe he’s feeling secure enough about himself that he doesn’t need the beard to feel manly. Gosh I hope it is something more positive.

All I can say is that I can hardly wait for the drive home Sunday so I can hear the reasons behind why he chose to do this and why now. Maybe he has a good reason. If not, I will attest to the prior thought processes. For now I’ll just keep my feelings at bay.

It is his face and his hair. And again, he’s right. He can always grow it back again. Maybe this time it will be even fuller and thicker. As long as there is a positive here for him, it's good.

The Ship Has Sailed

Tonight was "Meet Your Teacher Night" for the start of school later this week.

We decided not to attend.

He's got the same locker with the same combination, alot of the same teachers, and the principal gives pretty much the same pep talk that they gave us every year of middle school. My son is nearly sixteen, for crying out loud. I think the "Meet Your Teacher" moments have sailed.

Does that make me a bad parent? Don't tell my mother and father.

My mother was a grade school teacher most of my growing-up years (until they bought the restaurant) and my father was my high school math instructor. Now he's teaching at the community college back in the area in which I grew up. I have aunts, uncles, cousins, and a brother-in-law that are in the teaching profession. Yes, I've heard all about the parents who don't give a rat's rear-end about their child's education.

Sometimes I think I've tried to be involved too much. I was helicopter mom during grade school after the bullying incidents. I went to all of the teacher's conferences during middle school. This summer I've learned how much my son has truly blossomed...and he's done it without me in tow.

So I'm thinking that now that he's a sophomore in high school that perhaps helicopter mom needs to back off (ya think?). Don't get me wrong. I'm still going to be in the front row at every single choir performance, help with regionals and state contests, and will likely bake a cookie, brownie or maybe both for forensics tournaments he'll be in second semester. He decided on that instead of speech.

But like I said - I think the teacher meeting ship has sailed.

And I'm no longer on board for the ride. That's my son's job now.

Enjoying The Journey

I've been sporting a bit of a headache the last few days, so we decided to take it easy this evening and watched a bit of TV. There was a show on TLC about Nanny Jenny, or some such or other. It made my headache worse.

The show surrounds a professional nanny coming into people's homes who have completely out-of-control children. The nanny has a few days to a week to begin the process of re-training the parents and setting some boundaries for the children. Yes, re-training the parents is the focus. Holy cow!

When my son was very little, I knew I needed to teach him proper behavior and expectations as young as possible. I figured he should learn them early before the cost to both him and me grew too great and he became an out-of-control teenager. I'm so glad I chose to invest in his future at that age.

During the two to three year old stage, I went through weeks at a time when he would test my patience and push as hard as he could. I'd come home from work and it would start immediately and would go into bedtime. Those weeks were so awful for me because I felt like the Wicked Witch from Hell, but I kept telling myself we'd eventually get through it. Kept telling myself that I was doing both him and myself a huge favor in the long run.

Now I look back on that past investment and already see enormous rewards and gains for my son. See, everything I did back then - yes, it helped me eventually, but in reality it was all for his benefit and to contribute enormously to his future.

Now I do admit, my son has been a good kid for most of his years. He's been pretty easy-going in most cases, but I wonder from time-to-time what he'd have become if I hadn't made those difficult decisions to discipline him when younger. He's got an incredibly bright future ahead of him. He'll be sixteen in less than two months. No mother could be more proud of where he's at right now.

Now I'm just along for the ride, enjoying the journey while it lasts. Git along, little doggie!

Modern Teen Life

My son worked with my nephew over the weekend to set up his own personal information page. Not sure how to feel about it yet.

I'm a bit protective of him and just want to ensure that he isn't exposed to too many inappropriate things unnecessarily. He'll have plenty of that in college.

In order to set up this page he also needed an email address. I set up his sub-account under my email just a few moments ago.

Letting go is hard sometimes. Yes, it is important to let our kids stretch their wings, but it is also my responsibility as his parent to ensure he stays safe and doesn't go places he shouldn't.

So I've enabled all the parental controls humanly and technologically possible. Sometimes it is a good thing to be a control-freak.

My feeling is that if he proves himself responsible then I'll eventually ease up. Maybe when he's thirty. If he doesn't prove himself responsible then we'll just get rid of the page and the email. As a parent I demand obedience. I'm a stinker that way.

Hey, I take this parenting thing seriously. Someday I'll have to answer to God about how I did with what I was given. This is one area in which I plan to excel if at all possible.

Because no one else will be able to answer for me. :-)

Going Out With A Bang

Tonight is my son's huge end-of-the-year choir performance.

He just informed me this morning that he has to have a blue shirt and an orange shirt for the performance. They'll have their official shirt also - that's three shirts for one performance. I'm just happy he already has said colors of shirts. My thoughts and prayers go out to other parents who are currently tearing through stores looking for an orange shirt. It can't be a pretty sight - trust me, I've been there. My son is the king of last minute surprises. Can't tell you how many times we've been on the way to school only to have him pipe up:

"Oh, Mom - I need posterboard for a project today."

"Oh, Mom - I need five bucks today for the school play."

"Oh, Mom - do you happen to have a dozen cookies lying around unattended at this very moment?"

But I digress.

The dancing portion hasn't thrilled him. This will be their only performance where everyone will participate in the dancing sequences, which is probably why they aren't wearing their tuxes. After rehearsals this week, he's complained about his poor knees. I can see why. One currently sports a nasty bruise. I remember the days of grinning and bearing it myself. I told him it didn't look like it'd have to be amputated anytime soon. He'll survive.

His grandparents are making a special trip to town today. I'm thrilled that they're putting themselves out on a Thursday to make him feel special.

I've no doubt this performance will live up to our expectations.

Success!!!

Trips can be a great bonding experience. This one succeeded in droves.

I was a nervous wreck driving to the school to pick up my son yesterday evening upon their return from the choir trip. You see, he was severely bullied when he was younger and has struggled since that time in making friends. He tends to hang back and study people. Therefore he is labeled as shy by teachers and his fellow students. Being misunderstood can really mess with one's mind. That's why this trip was so important to his overall continued progress. We've fought an uphill battle for many years, and the outcome of this trip was key to his continued forward momentum.

The moment he came barreling from the school building (he was helping gather bags from the buses), I breathed an enormous sigh of relief. From his body language, smile, and interactions with fellow students it was quite obvious he'd enjoyed a wonderful time. When he saw me his face lit up like a lightbulb, and he ran over and gave me a great big hug right in front of his fellow students. It brought tears of joy to my eyes.

He talked non-stop all the way home. They'd had a successful raid of the awards and ended up bringing home six trophies from the competition. All three of his roommates were great guys, and he even was able to tell me their names and grades (shocker for him to remember such details). Of course, the biggest success of the trip to him was getting invited twice to sit with a table full of girls. The biggest success to me was that he'd thoroughly enjoyed every moment of it.

And he's ready to go back next year.

Early Morning Resurrection

I hate getting up early in the mornings. It isn't just that I hate it - I actually truly loathe it with a passion bordering on insanity. My body doesn't begin to function properly until at least 9:00, though I have to get up at 6:00 most mornings. The fact that my house has yet to burn down as I cook breakfast in a stupor is a testament to God's grace. Now if only someone could figure out how to administer coffee intravenously by my bedside.

As the school year winds down, my son is preparing for his big choir trip to Dallas. They've had two 7:00 am rehearsals already and will leave later this week. I found out Sunday at his choir performance that they have to be at the school by 5:00 - that's five o'clock in the morning. Be there at five o'clock in the morning! AM - which means we have to be up and around by 4:00 at the latest. Yes, that's right four o'clock in the morning. Why bother going to bed, eh?

Oh, what we do for our children.

At one time in his life, my son was a chipper early-morning riser. Seeing his toothy grin and hearing his babbling gibberish made the early morning disturbance worthwhile. Now that he's in the full throes of puberty, he can be pretty difficult to awaken of a morning. However, for the last couple of weeks, he's been Mr. Chipper all over again. I think he's actually looking forward to getting up at 4:00 am. Of course, it also helps that the girl to guy ratio for the trip is like nine to one.

But strange as it may be, I'm actually looking forward (in a bizzare, sick, and convoluted way) to getting up to see him off. By the time I was his age, I was a seasoned traveler, but this will be his first big trip that he's taken without me in tow - another one of the milestone moments of his life. It's very important to me that he feels comfortable stretching the umbilical cord.

Raising independent children is an important responsibility. Our job as parents is to allow our children experiences where they can explore life as we gradually adjust them to the process of leaving the nest. Then when they are old enough to leave, they will truly be capable of caring for themselves on their own out in the big, wide world. That's when we know we've done our job properly.

In the meantime, I'll continue to put myself out by being resurrected at four o'clock in the morning. Sympathy is appreciated.

Movie Madness

The movie choices lately just stink.

My son and I love to go to the movies. As he's gotten older it's become one of our greatest pleasures, especially since he doesn't want to do a whole lot of other things at present. Last year we spent at least three of every four weeks at the theatre starting in May thru the first of August. We saw "Transformers" three or four times (for me, mostly for Steve Jablonsky's orchestral soundtrack, which we bought as soon as it became available).

The moment the music starts, we begin guessing who wrote the orchestral pieces (among Danny Elfman, James Newton Howard, James Horner, or our favorite, Hans Zimmer). Most of the time I get it right, but he's really developed an ear for music and can now pinpoint styles and artists fairly quickly, unless the credits appear at the beginning of the movie and mess us up. Of course, the audience probably appreciates the fact that we aren't whispering back and forth anymore if the mystery has already been broken.

This time of the year is really a bore when it comes to movies. There's a huge assortment of R-rated or PG-13 that have little to be desired. When it comes to movies I'll take my son to, I whole-heartedly and happily admit - I'm a prude.

At fifteen his sexual identity is just beginning to develop. Attitudes toward women, himself, and life in general are really exploding as reality and hormones creep over him. As a parent I have always felt that it is my duty to ensure that he receives a healthy dose of reality commiserate with his age. Hollywood is definitely NOT reality, in my humble opinion. Even a decent message contained within a movie sometimes gets swallowed up in swear words, blood and gore, and sex, sex, sex.

Therefore, I am very careful to watch the content of movies before even considering taking him to be exposed. I realize there will come a point in time when he will be able to make decisions of what to see, so we discuss movies quite a bit after we've seen them. Occasionally we still get surprised by a scene, but that just gives us more fodder for discussion later on. My hope is that he'll develop a healthy sense of what is good to allow into his brain and make wise choices for content as an adult.

Many of my family and friends give me grief for being so controlling when it comes to movies I allow my son to see. Usually I'll just tell them, "uh, it's rated R for a reason" or something about being accountable for my son's well-being. Plus nowadays there's a really good crop of movies at different times of the year that I actually can enjoy with my son without experiencing remorse. We can have a great time at those kinds of movies.

That is until February rolls around. By then we have to figure out something else to do, but my pocketbook thanks Hollywood for saving me money for a few months.

Priorities, Priorities, Those Pesky Priorities

Sometimes it's hard to put our children's needs ahead of our own desires.

The Russian Ballet with the Russian Symphony is coming to town this weekend. It doesn't happen often. My best friend will be playing percussian with them. The symphony is playing the opera "Faust" on Saturday and then the two will perform the ballet "Sleeping Beauty" on Sunday afternoon. This Sunday afternoon. At 3:00. The exact same time of my son's big choir performance.

Yes, I almost cried.

At one time in my life (looooooong ago, in a far-away land) pointe shoes were merely an extension of my own skin. My feet felt naked and in the winter without them. I lived for the moment my toes slipped into the shoes, snapped the elastic against my skin, tenderly enveloped my ankles with pink, satin ribbon, then leapt and bounded across the dance floor. They traveled with me wherever I went. I wanted to be a prima ballerina. Alas, it was not to be.

I still love the rare occasion when I have the chance to attend a ballet performance of excellence. No offense to my dear fellow Americans, but the Russians have been and probably always will be the premier performer of ballet. So when I found out they were going to be here, I pulled out the checkbook and quickly calculated the cost to attend.

Until my son reminded me of his performance this Sunday. This Sunday at exactly the same time. Oh it hurts like a dagger through the heart, like the agony of thirst unquenched, like the...okay, I'll stop the melodramatics.

Still, over the years I've given up so much for my little man. I'm happy to do it. This is his time to shine. This is his time to excel. My time will come again someday, so it's time for me to live vicariously through the wonderful performances of my son. This just could be the leaping point for his own career aspirations, and I want to be a part of the incredible journey. It will only be a few more years now until he's off chasing his dream on his own.

There will be plenty of time then for the ballet, probably more time to myself than I'd imagined. Let there be no regrets when that time comes.

I need to stop now and go pull out my old pointe shoes.