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Holiday Fight Club

Have you heard about the new holiday tradition? It’s non-denominational, it can happen any time between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day and you can’t plan it (I don’t think).

It’s the Traditional Holiday Fight and everyone has one.

I never thought of it as a tradition until a friend of mine asked me if I had had my holiday fight yet. I laughed because, of course, I had. We are deep into December – it’s to be expected. She had her fight over Thanksgiving, which might be the way to go since it helps defuse the tension that is sure to build up by December.

I then took a highly scientific poll of five other people and they also have an annual Holiday Fight.

Sounds like a tradition to me!

Usually the fights are about the exact same thing every year. (You know that definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different outcome. That doesn’t apply here).

Maybe your fight is about spending too much time with the in-laws or having to travel to visit family out of town—again. It might be about over-spending or placing the burden of all of the preparation and shopping on one member of the family. Or, as it is in my house, it could be about decorating the tree although it’s never really about the tree (just like it’s not about the in-laws or the money or the unequal distribution of responsibilities).

Our fight about decorating the tree comes down to one thing: the Christmas tree is a symbol. A test, if you will. A test to see if my Jewish husband is really okay with this whole “Christmas tree in the middle of the living room thing,”

Never mind that for the 22 years that my husband and I have been married he has always helped me put up and decorate a Christmas tree (even helping me pick out a real one for years!) just as I’ve always stood by his side to sing the song and light the candles in the menorah during Hanukkah.

And yet, every December, like clockwork, I say these words:

“I’m canceling Christmas! That’s it! You guys never help me so no one gets presents this year!” And then I cancel Hanukkah as well.

You see, I usually decide with very short notice that I want to put up the Christmas tree. The test for my husband is to see if he will be as excited as I am.

Not surprisingly, he is never as excited as I am.

Unfortunately, as the kids have gotten older their excitement has waned as well. Sure they want the tree up and they want the presents under the tree, but they don’t want to hang up the ornaments. It doesn’t help that dad isn’t enthusiastic either.

This year my 14-year-old tried the “I’m an atheist so this isn’t important to me.” Until, of course, I said that a) the tree is a secular, not religious, symbol, and b) if he truly is embracing atheism he shouldn’t expect gifts.

I think he’s agnostic now.

At this point I usually explode.

I yell that I am taking away Christmas and everything else comes pouring out. I start complaining about all of the shopping and preparations I have to do for TWO holidays even though no one appreciates it anyway and I launch into an attack on my husband, accusing him of being passive-aggressive and stalling so he doesn’t really have to help with my holiday and then I scream that I will not buy a single Hanukkah present for anyone including his family for their Hanukkah party and I will not buy the Hanukkah candles either!

So there!

In case you think I’m an inconsiderate jerk, I do try to be sensitive to my husband because Hanukkah is totally over-shadowed by Christmas but in the course of being sensitive I tend to get resentful. I suddenly want red bows, giant holiday wreaths and Santa chotchkies everywhere! I want the mantle to be draped in evergreen and Christmas music playing 24/7.

The more I see the over-the-top decorations, the more I want them and the more bitchy I get when I can’t have them even though I have never, and I mean never, liked over-done holiday decorations and I’m actually quite content with our little tree.

See, clearly the fight is not about the tree.

But even though I’ve gotten to the root of the matter and I could have a mature discussion with my husband to resolve this, I’m choosing instead to embrace the fight. It’s tradition!. It’s right up there with Christmas morning French Toast, our handmade gift exchange and potato latkes on Hanukkah.

The holidays just wouldn’t be the same without them.

 

Have you had your Traditional Holiday Fight yet? If not, what are you waiting for??

A Holiday Miracle

The Thanksgiving season is usually not considered the time of miracles and yet something miraculous happened yesterday. Not the miracle of weeping icons or spontaneous healing, mind you, but miraculous just the same.

Let me back up.

My 18-year-old, college freshman came home for Thanksgiving break last night and within 45 minutes our battle for control began.

And, no, the miracle is not that it didn’t happen sooner.

After several hugs for the dog, a couple quick hugs for me, and a discussion about laundry he disappeared into his room.

I was a little disappointed by his vanishing act but I figured a home cooked meal would lure him out. I was wrong. I spent 10 minutes trying to get him to join the family for dinner.

I was miffed. Shouldn’t he be thrilled to have real food?

When he finally came to the table, he brought his iPad with him.  I told him to put it away during dinner and he responded with the, “I can do whatever I want because I’ve been away at school and I do whatever I want there,” bullshit that every college kid says to his parents when he comes home for break.

I was even more miffed.

And, when I told him that I didn’t appreciate his attitude, he responded with “Whatever,” and a roll of his eyes.

That’s when I snapped.

I yelled, my 14-year-old left the table, and my husband sat in silence.

At that moment, I just wanted my oldest son to go back to school.

I thought I had prepared for this. I read all the articles and blog posts about how to deal with your kid when he returns home for school breaks – hell, I wrote an article – but it didn’t matter.

I didn’t want to spend a little bit of time with him. I wanted more.

I wanted him to want to spend time with us – well, me in particular. I wanted him to choose us over his friends and his electronics. I wanted him to say, “Let’s watch a movie together,” “Let’s play a board game,” or “Let’s go out for dinner – just the four of us!” All the books and articles told me those were unreasonable and unrealistic expectations, but I still wanted it!

Those parents of college students who say, “That’s how the visit home is supposed to be. I wouldn’t want it any other way. It’s healthy!” are full of it. Deep down, they are just as pissed as I am; they just want to act like they are superior parents who have this whole parenting gig down. Me? I don’t care what it looks like. I suck as a parent, remember?

I know I sound like an infant but watching my kid transition from child to independent adult (albeit one who still needs to borrow our car and doesn’t pay for insurance) is not easy. It’s really uncomfortable to have a child who one day can’t leave you alone and the next day doesn’t want anything to do with you. None of this is new; I’ve been dealing with this since my oldest became a teen but it’s always shocking to me and it makes me kind of sad…or mad depending on the day.

Yesterday, apparently, was a mad day.

But then, just as I was on the verge of destroying any chance of quality family time for the entire week, a holiday miracle occurred: the WiFi AND the television went out.

The iPad my son brought to the table? Useless.

The video games he wanted to play on the Xbox? Unavailable.

The TV shows he wanted to binge watch? Inaccessible.

Was this just a coincidence or did my shortening fuse cause our electronics to go out? Did I suddenly have some sort of power? After all, I have been called a witch before (although it probably wasn’t a literal reference).

It didn’t matter. Just like that, I had my kid’s undivided attention.

“Let’s play a board game,” he said.

A Thanksgiving miracle and, yes, I am grateful.

Wishing you and your families a very Happy Thanksgiving!

 

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Don’t Tell Me How To Do College!

“Don’t Tell Me How To Do College!” my 18-year-old son snapped the other day.

What?! That’s ridiculous! I thought. I’m not telling him how to do anything. I’m merely making suggestions. (Insistent suggestions, perhaps, but still…)

For instance, one Sunday during our weekly Face Time session he complained that he had so much work to do that night. I innocently asked if he had thought about doing some work earlier on the weekend or maybe even during the day on Thursday when he has a huge block of free time.

“I got it, Mom! I know what I’m doing!” he barked.

When I scoffed at his reaction and tried to explain that I was merely trying to make a suggestion he responded with his first, “Don’t tell me how to do college!”

Similar retorts have been made in response to my suggestions that he clean his bathroom more frequently (he shares the bathroom with three suite mates), that he go to Health Services before his cold gets worse (he didn’t), and most recently, in response to my suggestion that he attend more activities on his college campus.

That last one is still lingering between us.

He has made friends at school with a group of kids who grew up not too far from the college they attend. As such, they tend to hang out in the city (the school is near a metropolitan area) rather than on campus attending school events.

My son says he’s fine with this. Me? Not so much.

I should be content that he hangs out with a group of kids he really likes—friends who bring him food when he has the flu and can’t get out of bed—yet, somehow, I have decided that he needs to have more of a “college experience” and that includes taking advantage of everything that he has available on campus.

I know this is ridiculous and, no, I’m not trying to relive my college years through my kid. (Really!) I had a great time in college, as did my husband, and we both had very different experiences from each other and from our son. You would that think this evidence—this proof that a “college experience” is not one size fits all—would be enough for me to back off and let our son “do college” his way.

It’s not.

Again, I’m not telling him how to do anything I’m just offering some suggestions.

What’s wrong with that? Is there an age limit on offering unsolicited advice to your off-spring? Because if there is, my mother and my in-laws didn’t get the memo. Neither did my grandmother or my husband’s grandfather. I was 40 when my dad died and until the end he was giving me advice.

Now, I know that when I was my son’s age I would hear my parents (notice I didn’t say listen) and ignore them (for the most part). There may have been a couple of times I heeded their advice immediately but not often. They knew this and yet they didn’t stop adding their two cents.

That’s what parents do! They keep talking and hope that something sticks!

My kid could have lied and told me that he saw the nurse and he could tell me that he’s attending every activity on campus just to shut me up – but he doesn’t. He’s being honest with me and, not so subtly, telling me to back off.

This reminds me of the first time I tried indoor rock climbing. I was on the wall and there was an incredibly annoying woman in our group who kept yelling out where the hand and footholds were before I even had a chance to look for myself. The first time she offered her “help,” I looked down at her and politely said, “I got it!” The fourth time? I snapped. “I know what I’m doing!” I yelled. “If I want your help, I’ll ask for it!”

Now why would that memory pop up right now, I wonder?  If only I had someone to give me some advice…

 

 

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Pathetic 48-year-old Mom Wanders Around Apple Orchard Alone! (or What I Did On My Kid’s Day Off of School)

Autumn, “the season formerly known as my favorite,” is just not the same now that my kids are older.

Before I had kids autumn was amazing: apple picking with my husband seemed so romantic, driving through a picturesque little town to take in the dazzling fall colors was a highlight of the season, and there was nothing more fun than finding the perfect costume for a Halloween party. Then, once I had kids, everything fall-like got even better – and adorable!

Is there anything cuter than a toddler at a pumpkin patch,

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Or a little kid in a furry Halloween costume trying to sneak a piece of candy,

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Or hoisting your baby up as he reaches for the perfect apple at the top of a tree in an apple orchard?

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No, there’s not.

Kids are adorable in the fall.

Sulking teenagers are not; nor, as it turns out, do they want to participate in those fun, fall festivities – especially not with their parents.

I found that out the hard way.

See, I love apple picking – any fruit picking, actually. My dad would take us miles out of our way if he saw a sign that there was fruit to be picked. We would head home with crates of strawberries, peaches, apples – anything we could pick that was in season.

I loved those days.

When I had kids I tried to recreate those moments as much for myself as my boys. Every September, from the time that my oldest was about six-months-old we would go apple picking. We would come home with so many apples that I would eventually get sick of anything apple related. But that didn’t matter because it was about so much more than just apples.

It was shared family time and the boys loved it (well, I’m not sure about the six-month-old but, boy, was it cute!). Post-picking we would savor warm cider donuts, pick out pumpkins to bring home and put on our porch, and even enjoy a pony ride!

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Every kid’s dream!

Until they are 14-years-old, apparently. Who knew?

This year, at the first hint of cooler temps and falling leaves I felt the pull to head to the nearest orchard and fill a bushel with apples.

“Who’s with me?” I asked my family enthusiastically.

Nothing.

“Come on!” I said to my one and only teen who still lives at home. “It’ll be fun!”

“Can I bring a friend?” he asked.

“Sure! The more the merrier!” I said.

I’m an idiot.

(Note: When your teen asks if he can bring a friend (or two) that means that he will not be spending any time with you. Bring your own friend – just saying.)

I, of course, didn’t know this as I planned our outing. I was still optimistic. I had visions of the group of us rambling through the apple orchard searching for the as yet untouched tree dripping with apples, it’s limbs sagging from the weight of the perfectly ripened fruit. I imagined that my son, his friends and I would see this tree from afar and get giddy at the sight of it. We would rush to the tree and fill our bags to the brim with the most perfect apples – stealing a bite or three of one of the apples and sighing with delight.

This is how it actually went down:

We got to the orchard and they went ahead without me.

I let them go because I realized, as we piled out of the car, that my son wanted to be with his friends. Sure, I could have tagged along but no one would have a good time.

So, I let them go.

But I still wanted to find that damn tree with the perfect apples! I could have gone into the store and simply bought a bag of apples but it seemed silly to have driven all that way and not, at least, walk into the orchard.

As I trudged through the apple orchard – alone – carrying my little plastic bag I tried not to look too creepy while families with young children walked by. I figured if I looked up and down every row it would look like I simply lost my group not that I had been abandoned. The last straw was when the guy driving a tractor full of apple pickers yelled out to me, “Where’s the rest of your group? Did they leave you?”

Pathetic.

All was not lost, however. I did find my perfect little tree full of apples and I filled my bag to the brim. I even got my warm cider donut – which I ate in the car, by myself, while I waited for the boys.

I think I’ll skip the pumpkin patch this year.

 

 

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Five Ways that Teenagers Are Just Like Toddlers

Lately I’ve been mourning the loss of my boys’ toddlerhood – the days when they hugged me with abandon, belly laughed over a silly sound and viewed the world with wonder and amazement.

I miss the days when I had little people who smelled yummy and wanted to be around me ALL THE TIME. Now, they are teenagers who are very different creatures – they smell like sweat and body spray and they wouldn’t be caught dead holding on to my leg or arm let alone spending hours at my side.

It’s sad to reminisce but, as I’ve been mentally flipping back through my kids’ toddler years, I’ve also noticed something curious—my kids as toddlers and as teenagers are actually more alike then I thought. See if you agree with my top five ways that teenagers are just like toddlers:

  1. They screw with your sleep. When they are little they wake up before the sun is up then, when you finally get adjusted to that sleep cycle, they suddenly become creatures of the night who can’t get out of bed before 10 am without being physically dragged out of their rooms.  My youngest was a crack-of-dawn kind of kid until a couple of years ago. As a toddler, he would run into our room at 5:30 am, his little feet would pitter-patter on the floor and announce that it was a sunny day. I would hoist him on to our bed and pray that he would give me just a few more minutes of sleep – that never happened. Back then, I considered sleeping to 6 am as “sleeping in.” Now, as a teenager, my youngest believes that being in bed – hell, being home before 11 pm is absurd; so I wait up for him.  Of course, then I wake up early because I’m still recovering from toddler time. It really efs up your sleep.
  2. They like bad music. I was never that mom who popped in Disney CDs in the car and sang along with my children. My kids listened to what I listened to: Classic Rock, Alternative Rock, maybe a little Frank Sinatra just to keep it interesting. But every now and then they would sneak some of that kiddie crap in at home and I would find myself listening to things like Get’cha Head in the Game from High School Musical – and singing along! Thankfully they’ve outgrown Disney tunes (even, happily, anything from the Frozen soundtrack) and they listen to music I want to listen to.  But, every now and then, I’ll be out jogging, listening to my music on shuffle and some misogynistic rap song that one of my boys downloaded will pop up. I’m not a prude but the lyrics in songs by 2Chains and Schoolboy Q are not meant for the listening pleasure of a 47-year-old mom even if the tunes are catchy and easy to run to.
  1. Toddlers and teenagers do stupid things. There was a time when my kids weren’t rushing headlong into stupid activities or asking to do, say, eat something that no reasonable person would want to do, say, or eat. That time was in between the toddler and teenage years.

Sigh.

See if you can tell if my kid was a toddler or a teenager when he made these statements:

  • “I’m going to sit on top of the swing set and see if I can catch my friend as he swings up.”
  • “What if we put three people on the sled and spin the sled as we go down the hill?”
  • “What if we pile the snow up to the roof and make a sledding hill?”

It’s hard to tell isn’t it??

(FYI: Only the last statement was made by a teenager but it could have gone either way. Or maybe it’s just boys…).

  1. Both toddlers and teenagers can be overly emotional and prone to tantrums. Granted, most teenagers will not flail about on the floor in the middle of a supermarket to make a point but they are just as capable of throwing a tantrum as a toddler. Both toddlers and teenagers might break down in tears when they don’t get their way and in both cases the tears will not be real. Toddlers and teenagers will try to wear you down by asking the same question over and over; that question is usually “Why?” as in “Why can’t I have another popsicle/puppy/toy?” or “Why can’t I have the car to drive my friend 700 miles to see her boyfriend?” Often the question “Why?” will be followed by foot-stomping and a loud, exasperated, “It’s not fair!” You may even see a pout – although it’s only cute on the toddler and then, only the first time.
  2. And, finally, neither toddlers nor teenagers communicate very well. Toddlers have a very limited vocabulary by virtue of their age and their level of education, while teenagers have a vocabulary limited less by lack of knowledge and more by attitude. Toddlers can’t always say what they mean because they don’t quite have the words (which makes them angry) and teenagers can’t always say what they mean because we parents “just don’t understand!!” However, “No,” “mine,” and “why?” are common means of communicating in both age groups. Beyond that, teenagers grunt, sigh and speak volumes by saying nothing. Although toddlers rarely say nothing they often do speak gibberish, which is not much different from teenage grunting. Occasionally, toddlers swear like teenagers, too. Like when you drop the “f” bomb in front of your 4-year-old and he repeats it over and over again in preschool the next day often with the perfect timing.

So, the next time you find yourself staring at your teenager and wishing for the toddler version to return, remember they are the exact same creature only less portable.

Do you think teenagers and toddlers are alike? If so, how?

 

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The New Normal

It’s been a week since our son left for college and I still close his bedroom door every night and open it in the morning.

I have made a habit of closing my boys’ bedroom doors when they are gone for the night to avoid that moment of panic when I wake up in the middle of the night, half-asleep, see one of their doors open and think they are gone.

Of course, now it’s the opposite. I open my door in the middle of the night, see his closed door and forget for a minute that he is not here. Then I remember he’s not behind that door and, ugh, tears spring to my eyes.

This will take a little getting used to.

I asked a friend of mine who just sent her youngest of three off to college if it ever feels normal once your kids have left and she told me that you just get used to the “new normal.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do.

I know that moving out and on is normal, it’s just a natural progression of my kid’s growth, like moving from walking to running or going from half-day of school to full-day of school (when, naturally, I cried). Every new stage, every new milestone in my children’s lives, has required an adjustment in our lives, a tweak in our schedules, a shift in perspective.

But this is different.

Even though every one of those stages changed our definition of what was normal for us, none seemed to shout, “Nothing will ever be the same!” like this stage did.

Our whole world is a little off right now. Now, I set the table for three instead of four (and yes, I burst into tears the first time I had to do that), I had to stop myself from buying his favorite cereal and ice cream today, and I have to get used to how quiet the house is with one kid instead of two.

But, I know we will adjust. Just like we adjusted to having a home with two people to a home with three and then four, we will adjust.

For right now, however, I’ll keep closing his door at night and opening it in the morning. Then, one day, just maybe, I’ll forget to close the door.

And just like that, that will become our new normal.

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Fiscal Irresponsibility

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How much control should we parents have over how our children spend their money?

That is the question that has plagued great minds since the beginning of time – or at least has bothered my small mind for the past month.

It all started with the bank statement and the missing $190.00.

That’s how much money my 14-year-old son spent on an on-line game over a one-month period of time.

190 freaking dollars!

This isn’t one of those cases where I could contact the company and ask for our money back. Well, I suppose if he used my credit card I would but it was his debit card, not mine, so I didn’t want him to get the money back.

I wanted him to suffer.

Until this summer I have used my credit card for my younger son’s video games, Xbox games, ITunes accounts, etc. so I could keep track of how much he was spending. He would ask me to charge something, and then he would give me cash. I thought this was a smart way to control his spending. If I thought he was spending too much money I wouldn’t charge what he wanted.

Brilliant!

Shortly after he graduated from junior high, however, we got him the “high school” debit card, mostly because the card can be replaced when it’s lost (he’s the kid who walks out the door with a $20 and two blocks later can’t remember where he put it.) I didn’t even consider the possibility that he would be drunk with power and simply add his account number to a computer game and start making charges.

How naïve am I?

I didn’t even realize that he hadn’t asked me to charge anything in ages. Then I saw the bank statement. I was livid. I thought: What a waste! He could have bought himself a skateboard, a bike, 50 Starbucks Frappucinos!

I made him cancel the game, lectured him about financial responsibility, and threatened to take away his new debit card if he did anything so irresponsible again.

But…then I started to second guess my approach?

After all, I did tell him that half of his graduation/birthday money was his to spend this summer. And, although I never even considered that he would spend it on virtual “gold” instead of Starbucks, hot dogs and movies, it was his money to spend.

Can I really tell him he can’t spend all of his money on video games because I think they’re stupid? Why is a $4 Frappucino any better??

When I was his age, I remember spending money on clothes, shoes, purses, all kinds of crap that I only wore or used once (shoulder pads and neon, anyone?) I’m sure my parents thought my purchases were equally worthless.

But, I learned a lesson. When I ran out of money, I ran out of money. I eventually learned to think before I bought one more pair of stirrup pants or heavy black eyeliner. (Which, is something I should have known long before, but I digress.)

The lesson my son learned is that he should have grabbed the mail before me so I wouldn’t have seen the bank statement.

If I wanted to teach him some useful lessons I probably shouldn’t have yanked the game so quickly.

I should have used that opportunity to teach him how to manage his spending and not buy things on impulse. I could have helped him map out a strategy where he could have spent money on his game and on his burgeoning Starbucks habit. But, the greatest lesson I could have taught him would have been about the value of sarcasm in parenting:

14-year-old, after burning through all of his money. “I don’t have any more money left and I want to go to the movies. Can I borrow $10?”

Me: “You know how the virtual world took all of your real money? Maybe the real world will accept virtual gold. Whadda ya think??”

Now that’s a lesson that would have lasted.

 

Do you control how your kid spends his or her money?

Did you make any worthless purchases as a kid?

 

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Yet Another Thing I Will Miss When My Kid Goes to College

We are less than a month away from the day that we leave our older son behind at college and head home to a slightly emptier house.

In order to avoid thinking about that for too long, I have been putting my energy into dealing with all of crap that needs to be done before he leaves for school: dorm room shopping, doctor’s appointments, haircut appointments, clothes shopping and, as a last-minute stressor, wisdom teeth extractions.

I’ve also been cleaning out closets, reading articles about easing the transition, and trying to get a prescription for Xanax to help with my separation issues (just kidding – I actually bought a case of wine).

I am going to be ready…or so I thought.

This morning I found a box of donuts and a bag of gummi candies on our front porch. They were from my older son’s friends. Apparently, he’s been having a rough week that I was unaware of. Yes, I knew about his sun poisoning and previously mentioned wisdom tooth pain, but the other part of it—the possible end of a long-term relationship—I was not privy to. He turned to his closest friends for that support and they rallied.

See, the best way to cheer up my 18-year-old is to feed him, so that’s what they did.

I cried.

My son has the nicest friends; they really look out for each other. But, more than that, they are really a great group of kids to have around…and they are leaving, too.

I’m going to miss having them around.

I may bitch and moan occasionally because they are at our house a lot, but I really only care when I’m in the mood to sprawl out on the couch in my stretched out yoga pants, eat cookies and watch bad TV. (I try not to do that in front of the kids lest they think that’s what happens when you’re older than 45, move to the suburbs and have kids. I don’t want to scare them).

The reality though is they usually don’t mind if my husband and I are around—yoga pants and all. They sit with us and even invite us to play board games or poker with them. Once, when a couple of the boys were hanging out with us, one of the boys told my husband and me about his plan to go to Las Vegas with our son for their 21st birthdays.  “You should come, too,” he said.

“You probably won’t want your parents with you in Vegas on your 21st birthdays,” I explained smiling as I pictured the scene.

“Why? You guys are cool,” he said. And he meant it!

No, really. He meant it!

I could have cried but that would have shown him how un-cool I really am.

The fact that these boys don’t want to flee when we walk in the room is only one of the reasons that I like them. They work hard at their jobs and at school, they do charitable work without being hounded and they are respectful of our home. They may eat all of the ice cream but the bowls are in the dishwasher when they are done and the counters are wiped clean. I can’t get my 14-year-old to do that; hell, I can’t get my husband to do that!

But the best thing about these boys is that  they are really, really nice to my youngest son.

That wasn’t always the case with my oldest son’s friends but, somehow, over the years, the friends who were mean to his little brother stopped being part of his posse.

I know it’s not easy to have a little brother around all the time (I’m a little sister, after all) but no one seems to mind him or, if they do, they don’t let it show. Half the time, a couple of them will be hanging out with him in our family room while the rest of the group is in the basement. Other times they invite him to join in. Just the other night my husband and I came home and found our youngest beating the older boys at poker, the next day he was playing tennis ball golf with them, and, as I write this, one of those boys—his “brother from another mother”—is working out with him as he prepares for soccer tryouts.

I’ve been worried about how my youngest is going to handle the separation from his brother but I didn’t think about how he might deal with the separation from his brother’s friends.

Thank God for social media…

I, am only “friends” with one of the boys on Facebook (his request, not mine) so I will have to get my information from my kids or hear snippets when they are back for school breaks.

In the mean time it will be odd—and a little quieter—without them around.

They will be missed.

 

Four Ways In Which My Life Is Totally Different Now That My Kids Are Teenagers

I’ve been chugging along, doing the parenting thing and not really paying attention to all of the changes in my life. Sure, I’ve noticed what’s going on with my kids growth and I’ve noted their milestones but I didn’t really pay attention to how much my life has changed (and I’m not talking about the gray hair, wrinkles and all around aging that I’ve done since they were little).

No, it’s the day-to-day stuff that changed and I didn’t really see it coming.

Until now.

Suddenly my husband and I are home alone three or four nights in a row!  We aren’t always sure what to do with ourselves, though. Before kids we went to bars, new restaurants, even art exhibits in the city. Now one glass of wine puts me to sleep and waiting for a table at a new restaurant requires patience that only a 20-something can muster.

But this major life change got me thinking about the other ways in which our lives have changed. Here are four of the more stressful ones for me:

  1. Holidays. I imagine that Thanksgiving might be the same for a little while – at least until the kids start bringing home their significant others – but other than that the holidays are just not the same now that my kids are older. For instance, the Fourth of July used to be so festive. It was an all day event for us – beginning with the kids lined up on the curb for the local parade and ending with gathering with friends and neighbors at our town’s fireworks a few blocks away. We would spend the day playing badminton in the backyard, eating barbecue and hanging out with the family and friends. This year the kids wolfed down some burgers with us around 5:00 pm then disappeared. We saw them at a distance at the fireworks but they didn’t sit near us where I could watch them staring at the display with wide-eyed amazement (not that they would do that now but they used to).  As for Christmas, without the magic of Santa it’s just a day to pass out presents and eat too much. The Easter Bunny went the way of Santa so Easter is really now just a meal no matter how many plastic Easter eggs I try to hide around the house. And Halloween? It’s just a day to watch a scary movie and eat the candy that I bought for our trick-or-treaters.
  1. Sleeping. I still don’t get any sleep it’s just that my hours have shifted. If my kids fall asleep before midnight it’s a miracle and no matter how hard I try to fall asleep before them I really can’t until I hear their doors shut for the night. I used to love getting up at 6 am with the kids; I felt like I could get so much done. Now, I have been forced to become a night owl and, as much as I like having control of the TV remote when my husband is asleep, I’m usually too tired to accomplish much past 10 pm.
  1. The bedtime routine. Probably the saddest part of the shift in my kids’ sleep patterns is their bedtime routines: I am no longer part of them. I still get to give them a hug and say goodnight but that’s about it. Our bedtime “process” used to be fairly elaborate for each kid: there were assorted books (with nightly negotiations for more), different bedtime songs and different places to sit in each room with the lights out for a few minutes before we left. I remember the first time my oldest son told me I didn’t have to stay in his room anymore after I said goodnight. It was like a knife through my heart! Then there was the time that my youngest and I were going through our usual “Love you. Sleep tight. See you in the morning. Good night,” routine when he said to me, in a very solemn voice, “You know, we won’t need to do this when I’m 42.” I left his room and burst into tears. Whadda ya mean! I thought. We will always do this! Obviously we wouldn’t, but there was a part of me that couldn’t fathom stopping. And now it has.
  1. And, finally, probably the hardest change has been my knowledge about their lives. I have no idea what my kids and their friends talk about or think about anymore. Every now and then they will share a funny story about something someone did or said but for the most part getting information out of my kids requires being in an environment with no distractions, asking the right questions at the right moments and knowing when to stop talking. I am really not good at the whole “stop talking” thing so I usually ask one question too many or ask something that is so stupid like, “Where is John going on vacation this summer?” and all conversation comes to a screeching halt. This is in sharp contrast to the days when my kids would talk and talk and talk about their days with such incredible detail that their stories often took more time to tell than the actual event took to happen. I miss that even if, at the time, I could not believe that they could talk so much.

Change is inevitable, I know, but I don’t have to like it…

How has your life changed as your kids have grown? If they are still little are you looking forward to the changes??

What Happened to Summer??

Summer is almost over.

At least that’s what it feels like to me.

The Fourth of July is next week! What happened to June??

My plan, back in January, when we were knee-deep in the polar vortex, was to have a leisurely summer where we took long bike rides, dined alfresco and relaxed together as a family savoring the longer days and the warm weather.

Instead my summer—so far—has involved driving my youngest 2 hours, round-trip, everyday for two-weeks to a camp in the city and struggling to find 15 minutes of one-on-one time with my oldest son in between his two jobs, his girlfriend and his friends. And then there’s the World Cup…

My bottom has yet to touch my bike seat and I’ve eaten outside once (unless you count a biscotti and espresso at Starbucks as a meal, then I’ve eaten outside twice).

I would like nothing better than to introduce my kids to the summer of the 70s ala Melissa Fenton of 4boysmother but I think I missed my chance. Now, if they are gone all day, I start to suspect trouble–the kind of trouble that only teenagers can get into. I also long for a way to simplify my summer as my friend Joy of Joyfully Green suggested but it’s not gonna happen. There’s just not enough time.

If I want that kind of relaxed, spontaneous summer I need to plan for it.

So here’s my plan:

1. Watch a lot of TV and movies as a family.

Not quite what one would encourage children to do during the summer but I have a list of movies and television series that my kids need to see before they become influenced by someone else’s Netflix queue. I didn’t realize how far behind I was on my list until I read the blog post, Educating Tweens and Teens on Pop Culture: The Movies I INSIST My Kids See by Momma Be Thy Name. Suddenly it became imperative that we get through the list. We finally watched Stand By Me and Caddyshack the other day so that only leaves 20 more movies including, Slumdog Millionaire, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and now, Wedding Singer (thanks for the reminder, Momma Be Thy Name!) just to name a few. Between those movies and episodes of Hogan’s Heroes, Fraiser and MASH we should be watching TV ten hours a day for the next two months. At least we’d be together. This plan might prove difficult, however, given the next item on my list…

2. Get outside.

I realize that my kids are busy with jobs and friends and sports but do they have to spend all of their time together in front of a screen (see the problem with #1?)? I’m torn because my oldest is leaving soon and I like that my kids are spending time together; I just wish it could involve sunshine. I mean we live in the Chicago area for Pete’s sake! Sun and warmth are gifts to be savored. So, I’ve come up with a list of things they can do together outside (I do love a list): Mini-golfing, golfing, paddle boarding, bike riding, canoeing, playing Frisbee golf…so many options. If they let me tag along, even better.

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3. Prepare a meal (or two or three) together and eat outside.

This accomplishes two things: first, it will prove to me that my children can feed themselves (always a little questionable) and two, we will eat outside! My youngest used to love to cook. He and I used to watch The Barefoot Contessa together, and then cook one of her recipes. I even had her autograph one of her cookbooks for him. And then, suddenly, he stopped. Now if he has to feed himself he eats a bowl of cereal or a bag of goldfish. He needs a cooking refresher. Besides, cooking together is fun for everyone (I swear!) and no one needs to know that they are learning something in the process.

4. Teach my kids all of the things I failed to teach them in the past 18 years.

This may seem daunting especially when my kids will be watching ten hours of television a day, preparing dinner and spending time outdoors but…I just found out this morning that my oldest has never changed a light bulb! And he’s leaving for college.

How is that possible??

My husband and I started ticking off the other things that our kids don’t know how to do yet (or at least not do very well). Laundry tops the list, followed closely by tying a tie, knowing basic first aid, putting out a fire, hanging a picture (and patching the wall when they do a bad job), sewing on a button, the list goes on and on…

5. And finally, force togetherness with a little vacation.

We are taking a four-day vacation this summer that is significantly shorter than I would like but all my kids would fit in with work and sports tryouts.

I’ll take it. Four days is better than nothing.

When you have four days you have to plan though; there isn’t much time for lounging around and seeing what happens. So, we will fly fish and whitewater raft and hike but, most importantly, we will eat three meals a day together.

Even if each meal takes only 30 minutes, that’s an hour and a half per day of uninterrupted family conversation, something that would never happen if we were at home.

Three meals without cell phones, television and friends.

Maybe if I’m lucky a couple of those meals will be outside after a bike ride.

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