Most people with chronic pain or illness are very familiar with the spoon theory as written here;
Spoon Theory
I have a new spoon theory which has nothing to do with pain, or any form of illness. I am calling it "16 spoons where the hell are you?"
For the past two weeks we have experienced a dearth of spoons in the house. We weren't using them for dinner because they weren't there. We were barely able to scare up three for cereal on a lazy night. We were down to using plastic spoons, of course those were depleted too due to the dearth of metal spoons.
We got serious about spoon finding on Sunday. We scoured the house top to bottom. 2 were found in my bathroom. My son and I had yogurt one evening in bed. One was found in my son's bathroom in a bowl of cereal he'd left in the sink. Approximately 10 were found in his bedroom and his game room. As of this writing 16 spoons are nestled into the silverware drawer in the kitchen. We had no issue with forks. I am not certain why this was only limited to spoons. I am blaming the Super Golden Crisp he has recently discovered. That stuff can make a kid do crazy things, like use every single spoon in the house yet have no recollection that any spoons have been used. How he drew an utter blank on the spoons is beyond me. We sent him daily to gather all the dishes from upstairs. I think he has dish/mess/trash blindness. How my husband and I BOTH missed the two spoons in the upstairs bathroom is beyond me also. Can we too have spoon blindness?
I wonder if spoon man came to visit if he would leave us a few dozen spoons so that we can make it a week without scrambling for spoons?
Monday, July 21, 2014
Monday, June 16, 2014
I've become one of them
When I was a teenager, things were different than they are today........
I remember some of the pranks we used to play in school, the best one was......
I didn't even realize it was happening. I became one of them. Those people who regale their teenager with stories of slightly misguided youth. Not only my son, but his friends too! I am unstoppable. I am completely incapable of stopping myself before I start. They will sit around talking to me, then before I know it, I'm knee deep into 1985. I don't know if I lack a filter or if I just love to hear myself talk.
My son called it to my attention when he said "Melvin said you're Mom has a story about everything, I bet she's telling Melanie one right now". When my 15 year old child had to call it to my attention, I knew that I was a monster. A "back in the day....." monster. I remember when my Grandmother and my Mother did it to me. I felt kind of trapped and slightly humiliated that they were trying to "fit in with the crowd" now, almost 30 years past my high school years I am in the same boat. The boat apparently has a very comfortable captain's chair and I'm very firmly wedged into it. My seat in the boat is the one my Grandmother and Mother shared.
I have also become a pajama Mom. I drop him off at school in pajamas and if the day has been rough, I likely pick him up in the same pajamas. This was only recently embarrassing when my son brought a friend to the car for a ride home. I couldn't let my son drive because I was in a nightgown and bathrobe.
I have become my worst fear. I have become my Grandmother and my Mother. They didn't wear pajamas in public though. I think I may top them in the embarrassing department.
At least I don't clean his face with spit....
I remember some of the pranks we used to play in school, the best one was......
I didn't even realize it was happening. I became one of them. Those people who regale their teenager with stories of slightly misguided youth. Not only my son, but his friends too! I am unstoppable. I am completely incapable of stopping myself before I start. They will sit around talking to me, then before I know it, I'm knee deep into 1985. I don't know if I lack a filter or if I just love to hear myself talk.
My son called it to my attention when he said "Melvin said you're Mom has a story about everything, I bet she's telling Melanie one right now". When my 15 year old child had to call it to my attention, I knew that I was a monster. A "back in the day....." monster. I remember when my Grandmother and my Mother did it to me. I felt kind of trapped and slightly humiliated that they were trying to "fit in with the crowd" now, almost 30 years past my high school years I am in the same boat. The boat apparently has a very comfortable captain's chair and I'm very firmly wedged into it. My seat in the boat is the one my Grandmother and Mother shared.
I have also become a pajama Mom. I drop him off at school in pajamas and if the day has been rough, I likely pick him up in the same pajamas. This was only recently embarrassing when my son brought a friend to the car for a ride home. I couldn't let my son drive because I was in a nightgown and bathrobe.
I have become my worst fear. I have become my Grandmother and my Mother. They didn't wear pajamas in public though. I think I may top them in the embarrassing department.
At least I don't clean his face with spit....
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Easter memories....
Easter....Easter reminds me of many things; the Resurrection, springtime, dogwood tree blooms, china berry trees in bloom, church, Easter corsages, hats in church, flowers in my hair, a special dress and shoes for Easter, gloves, egg hunts, baskets, carrots left for the Easter Bunny, candy, plastic baskets, coconut cake, ham, family and fun.
I remember a few things more clearly. I had this one outfit when I was about four. Green with some color blocks in pink and brown. I hated that outfit! There is a photo of me in it holding a plush bunny or a basket...something Easterish with the haircut I hated on top of it all!
I loved those green coconut nests from Russell Stover, they just tasted like Easter. The only acceptable Peeps were pink bunnies and yellow chicks. It just ruined the day if I got yellow bunnies and pink chicks. I think those were the only two shapes and colors back in the 70's and 80's. There were also humming bird eggs. Hummingbird eggs were about the size and shape of sixlets, but they were jelly beans...tiny baby jelly beans.
Easter grass. It just wasn't Easter without plastic Easter grass. The bunny uses paper grass now because our cat confiscates the basket as soon as my son empties it. The current basket count is 3 or 4 in the open and a few more hiding. The grass is still in them, he uses it for a mattress. We do not touch the Easter grass.
Jelly beans!! I am a slave to jelly beans. I didn't buy any this year because I got sick on gummy bears and some weird store brand Jelly Belly knock off...they weren't bad, they just hit me the wrong way. I'm sure the donut holes didn't help the cause. I digress... I love the pink, purple, white and black jelly beans the most. I'm not too fond of the mix with spearmint as the green jelly bean. Though they do have an interesting pink and white in that set...oh and the purple too. Red jelly beans are always a winner too.
Chocolate bunnies! That's it, the centerpiece of every basket.
The return of white. White was only worn from Easter to Labor Day. Outside of the white season it simply was not worn. This definitely included shoes and purses! It may have just been a southern thing. I had to wear yellow and white nearly every Easter. White shoes were an absolute must on Easter Sunday. I still remember a pair of white low heel Mary Jane shiny man made upper with this one weird tag of black from the sole that rode up in a semi circle on the instep of the right shoe. My Grandma wanted my head on a platter because I picked at it all through service. I was about 10....it really bothered me.
Easter egg hunts at church. We'd each bring a dozen hard boiled eggs to share for the church egg hunt. One egg was wrapped in foil and was the "special" egg. Whomever found the special egg got a prize. We'd hunt and snipe eggs, we'd trick each other, we had a really good time and we got a few eggs. The luckiest snipers got the most. After we found all or most all of the eggs we'd sit down to eat some of them. Almost as a unit we popped out our salt shakers. Most of us had those tiny salt shakers to use when dining on egg. They were about the size of a thimble and were very handy. I think the weirdest thing that happened was at my first egg hunt. I was Easter '76 and I was 6. I sat down with my cousin to share eggs. All of a sudden something hard hit me on the top of the head! I looked up and noticed my head was being used to crack an egg! I had never experienced such a thing. Since then I have cracked a few eggs on heads and sometimes remember to crack one on my own in an odd tribute to that first wacky egg hunt.
My Grandma's hands. I would hold her hand almost all through church and play with her rings. She wore three, an onyx oval with a tiny diamond in the middle. I have that. Her Mother's ring and her wedding band. I remember the way the light caught all the colors in the Mother's ring. I remember how soft her hands felt, how smooth and thin her skin was, how warm they were and her patience as I toyed with the rings. We didn't have Children's Church for major holidays, that's how I ended up associating her hands with Easter and of course Christmas.
I seem to have a lot of memories of food and candy :)
Happy Easter!
I remember a few things more clearly. I had this one outfit when I was about four. Green with some color blocks in pink and brown. I hated that outfit! There is a photo of me in it holding a plush bunny or a basket...something Easterish with the haircut I hated on top of it all!
I loved those green coconut nests from Russell Stover, they just tasted like Easter. The only acceptable Peeps were pink bunnies and yellow chicks. It just ruined the day if I got yellow bunnies and pink chicks. I think those were the only two shapes and colors back in the 70's and 80's. There were also humming bird eggs. Hummingbird eggs were about the size and shape of sixlets, but they were jelly beans...tiny baby jelly beans.
Easter grass. It just wasn't Easter without plastic Easter grass. The bunny uses paper grass now because our cat confiscates the basket as soon as my son empties it. The current basket count is 3 or 4 in the open and a few more hiding. The grass is still in them, he uses it for a mattress. We do not touch the Easter grass.
Jelly beans!! I am a slave to jelly beans. I didn't buy any this year because I got sick on gummy bears and some weird store brand Jelly Belly knock off...they weren't bad, they just hit me the wrong way. I'm sure the donut holes didn't help the cause. I digress... I love the pink, purple, white and black jelly beans the most. I'm not too fond of the mix with spearmint as the green jelly bean. Though they do have an interesting pink and white in that set...oh and the purple too. Red jelly beans are always a winner too.
Chocolate bunnies! That's it, the centerpiece of every basket.
The return of white. White was only worn from Easter to Labor Day. Outside of the white season it simply was not worn. This definitely included shoes and purses! It may have just been a southern thing. I had to wear yellow and white nearly every Easter. White shoes were an absolute must on Easter Sunday. I still remember a pair of white low heel Mary Jane shiny man made upper with this one weird tag of black from the sole that rode up in a semi circle on the instep of the right shoe. My Grandma wanted my head on a platter because I picked at it all through service. I was about 10....it really bothered me.
Easter egg hunts at church. We'd each bring a dozen hard boiled eggs to share for the church egg hunt. One egg was wrapped in foil and was the "special" egg. Whomever found the special egg got a prize. We'd hunt and snipe eggs, we'd trick each other, we had a really good time and we got a few eggs. The luckiest snipers got the most. After we found all or most all of the eggs we'd sit down to eat some of them. Almost as a unit we popped out our salt shakers. Most of us had those tiny salt shakers to use when dining on egg. They were about the size of a thimble and were very handy. I think the weirdest thing that happened was at my first egg hunt. I was Easter '76 and I was 6. I sat down with my cousin to share eggs. All of a sudden something hard hit me on the top of the head! I looked up and noticed my head was being used to crack an egg! I had never experienced such a thing. Since then I have cracked a few eggs on heads and sometimes remember to crack one on my own in an odd tribute to that first wacky egg hunt.
My Grandma's hands. I would hold her hand almost all through church and play with her rings. She wore three, an onyx oval with a tiny diamond in the middle. I have that. Her Mother's ring and her wedding band. I remember the way the light caught all the colors in the Mother's ring. I remember how soft her hands felt, how smooth and thin her skin was, how warm they were and her patience as I toyed with the rings. We didn't have Children's Church for major holidays, that's how I ended up associating her hands with Easter and of course Christmas.
I seem to have a lot of memories of food and candy :)
Happy Easter!
Saturday, March 29, 2014
My My, how time does fly!
I have been very lax. I've not been here for a while. Where to begin??
I got overwhelmed in November, compiled all the "Complicated Lives" and released them in a kindle book. A lot of emotion led up to that, then I felt free and open. I think the word may be empowered.
After that I decided to do some emotional housekeeping. I cut ties with some people, other people I've just gone off the radar. I'm sorry to say I've not been a good friend at all to some very important people. I hope they know that I care for them deeply, but I've just been in a weird spot mentally.
I got sick of all the negative energy and drama surrounding my son at the local high school. We talked it over and decided a move to a public charter school was the best decision for all of us. It's almost like we have our eager to learn toddler back once more. He can explore paths, work at his own pace, set his own goals and have freedom. This school operates more like life in the real working world. Projects, deadlines, work at your own pace, set goals....etc. The transformation has been amazing.
Stress and pressure from the new pay schedule where my husband works has me frazzled. We refinanced our mortgage. I'm typing up a searchable document for our HOA to make things easier for people to seek and find answers to common questions.
For those who know about my health issues, I'm doing better! I am still quite lazy some days, I still have insomnia, pain...etc. The good things are, I have more stamina, I am walking much better, my fine motor skills are coming along and typing is getting better. I still can't type for very long, but I am doing a better job touch typing.
I've found a great and simple bread recipe. I have messed with the flour and created a nice rye with caraway from the same recipe. I do it all in the kitchenaid. Kneading is and never was my strong point.
I will catch you up on white trash moments in the next post.
I got overwhelmed in November, compiled all the "Complicated Lives" and released them in a kindle book. A lot of emotion led up to that, then I felt free and open. I think the word may be empowered.
After that I decided to do some emotional housekeeping. I cut ties with some people, other people I've just gone off the radar. I'm sorry to say I've not been a good friend at all to some very important people. I hope they know that I care for them deeply, but I've just been in a weird spot mentally.
I got sick of all the negative energy and drama surrounding my son at the local high school. We talked it over and decided a move to a public charter school was the best decision for all of us. It's almost like we have our eager to learn toddler back once more. He can explore paths, work at his own pace, set his own goals and have freedom. This school operates more like life in the real working world. Projects, deadlines, work at your own pace, set goals....etc. The transformation has been amazing.
Stress and pressure from the new pay schedule where my husband works has me frazzled. We refinanced our mortgage. I'm typing up a searchable document for our HOA to make things easier for people to seek and find answers to common questions.
For those who know about my health issues, I'm doing better! I am still quite lazy some days, I still have insomnia, pain...etc. The good things are, I have more stamina, I am walking much better, my fine motor skills are coming along and typing is getting better. I still can't type for very long, but I am doing a better job touch typing.
I've found a great and simple bread recipe. I have messed with the flour and created a nice rye with caraway from the same recipe. I do it all in the kitchenaid. Kneading is and never was my strong point.
I will catch you up on white trash moments in the next post.
Friday, February 7, 2014
Winter
The cold weather, a fire, my family. What could be nicer? The house is dusty, the carpet is stained, our cat has scratched the furniture and climbs it regularly. It doesn't sound wonderful does it? It is somehow perfect in every way. What we have tells part of the story of who we are as a family and members of the human race. Our possessions say that we are low-key, not perfect, relaxed and that we tend to enjoy each other. I say this because our son's friends come over, sit on the sofa, walk around with drinks, open the fridge and the cabinets to find food (teenage boys) then flop with us or in the gameroom to eat, hang out and watch tv together. Nothing invites people to stay more than a welcoming atmosphere filled with warmth, food, love and the promise of fun. Sometimes I think I could stay in winter forever because it is the time to be still....or the time for the guys to go sledding.
I look back in these close quarters times to my memories of winter as a child. I have always loved winter. Winter meant maybe a snowflake or two. Wearing sweatshirts and sweaters, scarves, jackets and gloves. Then as a teen in the North it was surviving the cold contests with friends. It's a special time for me because of the holidays, the new year, the need to spend time together because of the weather. I love the idea that rebirth is just around the corner. Winter is the time to be still and see where life is going.
I lived part of my life in the South and part of my life up North. I do prefer the weather up North. I love the snow, the cold, the ice, the frozen world. All of winter makes me want to stay in a moment forever; I want these moments to last forever. I know that they won't stay. I hope my son is building memories of closeness, of the chill, of the snow and ice. I want him to remember more than just the few inconveniences. I want him to really enjoy each season and all the good things the seasons bring. Selfishly I do hope my two favorite seasons are his two favorites also, Fall and Winter.
My favorite winter memories as a child were of spending time with loved ones, hoping for some snow, I still remember making my last snowman in KY before moving to FL, in FL I missed the snow so much, I remember frost on the ground, our door freezing closed, how giddy I was that I had to miss school because of the iced door. Puffy jackets (it was the 80's) boots, heavy jeans and sweaters. As a teen up North I loved trekking through a park with snow all around, felling naughty as we had ice cream in the winter, gamely thinking that I would try skiing at least once, watching the snowfall like it was a miracle and loving even the bitter cold when my nostrils would freeze shut. Now I love all those things and a cup of cocoa with some coconut rum in it on occasion. I still feel like snow is magical and love to watch it fall.
I am one of those sick individuals that your parents warned you about, I am twisted and absolutely not normal because I LOVE WINTER!! :)
I look back in these close quarters times to my memories of winter as a child. I have always loved winter. Winter meant maybe a snowflake or two. Wearing sweatshirts and sweaters, scarves, jackets and gloves. Then as a teen in the North it was surviving the cold contests with friends. It's a special time for me because of the holidays, the new year, the need to spend time together because of the weather. I love the idea that rebirth is just around the corner. Winter is the time to be still and see where life is going.
I lived part of my life in the South and part of my life up North. I do prefer the weather up North. I love the snow, the cold, the ice, the frozen world. All of winter makes me want to stay in a moment forever; I want these moments to last forever. I know that they won't stay. I hope my son is building memories of closeness, of the chill, of the snow and ice. I want him to remember more than just the few inconveniences. I want him to really enjoy each season and all the good things the seasons bring. Selfishly I do hope my two favorite seasons are his two favorites also, Fall and Winter.
My favorite winter memories as a child were of spending time with loved ones, hoping for some snow, I still remember making my last snowman in KY before moving to FL, in FL I missed the snow so much, I remember frost on the ground, our door freezing closed, how giddy I was that I had to miss school because of the iced door. Puffy jackets (it was the 80's) boots, heavy jeans and sweaters. As a teen up North I loved trekking through a park with snow all around, felling naughty as we had ice cream in the winter, gamely thinking that I would try skiing at least once, watching the snowfall like it was a miracle and loving even the bitter cold when my nostrils would freeze shut. Now I love all those things and a cup of cocoa with some coconut rum in it on occasion. I still feel like snow is magical and love to watch it fall.
I am one of those sick individuals that your parents warned you about, I am twisted and absolutely not normal because I LOVE WINTER!! :)
Sunday, January 12, 2014
Were you raised by wolves?
This has always seemed to mean something derogatory. I recently found out that wolves are in fact excellent parents. If someone asks if you were raised by wolves it could be reasonable and non-derogatory to answer..."no my parents weren't nearly that good"
I was recently wondering if one of my son's friend's was raised by wolves because he seems to have lost any moral compass. When I looked up the question about wolves out of sheer curiosity I realized that I am no where near as good as a wolf mom! I have no idea what animal parent I'd be like...one that nags a lot. What ever that kind of parent is...I'm the naggy one.
Fortunately for me, my son still talks to me about most things. Sure he lies a bit, as most teenagers do. He was NOT raised by wolves because we are annoying and nag him. But at least we aren't raising a douche bag. My son's ex-friend has turned into the discount store brand of douche's. He pulled a trick so low down, ugly and dirty I would probably spank my son until next week (even though it would have little effect on him aside from giving him a sore behind and making him angry). Part of me is debating outing the kid for being a dirt bag, the other part is just rejoicing that despite my lack of wolf parenting skills I raised a better son than that! Here's the deal...
Kid had no friends in 6th grade. My son (anxiety king) was his only friend from 6th until near the end of 8th grade when dirt bag's parents started getting divorced. I genuinely liked the kid up until he started throwing my son under the bus, scamming my son's friends, then painting my son in a bad light. Things were fine, they went their own way, friendships don't always last. No big deal, until last week. Last week, this dirt bag started texting one of my son's female friends. They've been friends for some time. Dirt bag told her not to talk to my son because my son is a "bad kid" WTH?! I took this kid home when is Mother and Grandmother were too busy "living life" to recall they needed to bring him home from practice. Ok...jerk, find another friend to take you home, one of the many kids who only pretend to like you because they say jump and the dirt bag says "how high". No problem...life goes on. Then I found out the basic premise behind the texts. This dirt bag was texting a girl, pretending to be suicidal to play on her sympathies in order to get a girlfriend! There was a suicide at the school earlier this year. The boy who died was friends with this girl.
How low is that? Have I lost touch with being a teenager so much that this seems deplorable to me? Is this an accepted practice now? I would be so ashamed and angry if I found out my son were playing people like this. I am torn between letting this whole thing go....or contacting the Mother. If her darling dearest is suicidal she should know and perhaps wake the heck up, maybe re order her priorities? On the other hand if the low life isn't suicidal and is just pretending, the he truly needs a moral compass installed in the worst way.
I'm no wolf, but I think I'm better than a harp seal!
I was recently wondering if one of my son's friend's was raised by wolves because he seems to have lost any moral compass. When I looked up the question about wolves out of sheer curiosity I realized that I am no where near as good as a wolf mom! I have no idea what animal parent I'd be like...one that nags a lot. What ever that kind of parent is...I'm the naggy one.
Fortunately for me, my son still talks to me about most things. Sure he lies a bit, as most teenagers do. He was NOT raised by wolves because we are annoying and nag him. But at least we aren't raising a douche bag. My son's ex-friend has turned into the discount store brand of douche's. He pulled a trick so low down, ugly and dirty I would probably spank my son until next week (even though it would have little effect on him aside from giving him a sore behind and making him angry). Part of me is debating outing the kid for being a dirt bag, the other part is just rejoicing that despite my lack of wolf parenting skills I raised a better son than that! Here's the deal...
Kid had no friends in 6th grade. My son (anxiety king) was his only friend from 6th until near the end of 8th grade when dirt bag's parents started getting divorced. I genuinely liked the kid up until he started throwing my son under the bus, scamming my son's friends, then painting my son in a bad light. Things were fine, they went their own way, friendships don't always last. No big deal, until last week. Last week, this dirt bag started texting one of my son's female friends. They've been friends for some time. Dirt bag told her not to talk to my son because my son is a "bad kid" WTH?! I took this kid home when is Mother and Grandmother were too busy "living life" to recall they needed to bring him home from practice. Ok...jerk, find another friend to take you home, one of the many kids who only pretend to like you because they say jump and the dirt bag says "how high". No problem...life goes on. Then I found out the basic premise behind the texts. This dirt bag was texting a girl, pretending to be suicidal to play on her sympathies in order to get a girlfriend! There was a suicide at the school earlier this year. The boy who died was friends with this girl.
How low is that? Have I lost touch with being a teenager so much that this seems deplorable to me? Is this an accepted practice now? I would be so ashamed and angry if I found out my son were playing people like this. I am torn between letting this whole thing go....or contacting the Mother. If her darling dearest is suicidal she should know and perhaps wake the heck up, maybe re order her priorities? On the other hand if the low life isn't suicidal and is just pretending, the he truly needs a moral compass installed in the worst way.
I'm no wolf, but I think I'm better than a harp seal!
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
I can not win
There is no winner when it comes to parenting at all, I am convinced. There were no winners when he was having toddler tantrums there were no winners with tween tantrums and there are certainly no winners with teen tantrums.
I think I may have to have a Mommy tantrum soon....or another one. I don't know if any of us ever truly outgrow tantrums. I don't think it may be very healthy to outgrow them. It sometimes feels good to have a hissy fit, tantrum, fit, go nuts, let it out, let down, blow off steam. The way we go about it changes over the years but the effect is still the same, we feel a sweet release when we let the emotional pressure out. Some people don't even know the pressure is building until they blow off some steam, other people feel it building and start venting earlier. I think when you bottle up and deny those feelings of anger or frustration that you head for trouble.
I have no idea how some people stay so calm and detached from their emotions. I'm not sure how people aren't angered by outrages they see or injustices they witness. I'm not sure how people can ignore lying, cheating, backstabbing or manipulative people they know but can't get away from.
Lately my life seems like a powder keg, one spark and things will blow. I'm trying to vent the pressure by tackling the things that I can, as they arise. I feel so powerless and weak in the face of my growing son. I want to be the "right" mother, do the "right" thing, say the "right" thing...mostly, I just want a crystal ball to see what I should do. It would be kind of nice if life were like a choose-your-own-adventure book. It would be great to kind of peek ahead a few pages to see if the outcome were sunny or gloom-filled then choose to head that way or not.
Teenagers are right there in that middle ground where so much can go so wrong or so much can go so right. I think most parents want their kids to have as much fun as they can, enjoy life, learn enough to head off to college and then into a good life. So few teenagers really seem to be doing that at all. It's tough knowing how to parent so any of it works out.
I used to think life was so hard when he was young, now I look back and think..."give me juice boxes and Sesame Street any day!" I worried about choosing the right things then, now I'm a basket case. I was never fully stable to begin with I don't think. I wonder if I just need to chalk it all up to life and hope for the best? There doesn't seem to be much choice when tempers flare and teenager heels dig in against parents.
I really don't think that any of us will win this whole teenager parent thing, but I do know that the teens end and adulthood comes far too fast. I think I should just try to enjoy each day and keep hoping he makes good decisions and hoping I don't go insane. For now, I think I will just read a magazine in bed, then try not to screw up tomorrow.
So......ready for Christmas?
I think I may have to have a Mommy tantrum soon....or another one. I don't know if any of us ever truly outgrow tantrums. I don't think it may be very healthy to outgrow them. It sometimes feels good to have a hissy fit, tantrum, fit, go nuts, let it out, let down, blow off steam. The way we go about it changes over the years but the effect is still the same, we feel a sweet release when we let the emotional pressure out. Some people don't even know the pressure is building until they blow off some steam, other people feel it building and start venting earlier. I think when you bottle up and deny those feelings of anger or frustration that you head for trouble.
I have no idea how some people stay so calm and detached from their emotions. I'm not sure how people aren't angered by outrages they see or injustices they witness. I'm not sure how people can ignore lying, cheating, backstabbing or manipulative people they know but can't get away from.
Lately my life seems like a powder keg, one spark and things will blow. I'm trying to vent the pressure by tackling the things that I can, as they arise. I feel so powerless and weak in the face of my growing son. I want to be the "right" mother, do the "right" thing, say the "right" thing...mostly, I just want a crystal ball to see what I should do. It would be kind of nice if life were like a choose-your-own-adventure book. It would be great to kind of peek ahead a few pages to see if the outcome were sunny or gloom-filled then choose to head that way or not.
Teenagers are right there in that middle ground where so much can go so wrong or so much can go so right. I think most parents want their kids to have as much fun as they can, enjoy life, learn enough to head off to college and then into a good life. So few teenagers really seem to be doing that at all. It's tough knowing how to parent so any of it works out.
I used to think life was so hard when he was young, now I look back and think..."give me juice boxes and Sesame Street any day!" I worried about choosing the right things then, now I'm a basket case. I was never fully stable to begin with I don't think. I wonder if I just need to chalk it all up to life and hope for the best? There doesn't seem to be much choice when tempers flare and teenager heels dig in against parents.
I really don't think that any of us will win this whole teenager parent thing, but I do know that the teens end and adulthood comes far too fast. I think I should just try to enjoy each day and keep hoping he makes good decisions and hoping I don't go insane. For now, I think I will just read a magazine in bed, then try not to screw up tomorrow.
So......ready for Christmas?
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