How did I wake up 50 years old??

There are things I find that I can not explain to my kids. I can not explain how I woke up almost 50 years old.
I swear to you just yesterday I was in high school.  I was desperately trying to figure out how to keep my head above water and out of trouble.  College is a blur and their childhood - a short dream sequence.

How so I explain something I still do not understand myself? Is it really my job to teach my kids about life? Or are they here to teach me? Because there are days I know they are doing better than I am.

When did I get this old.....when did I become the "parent"?  Watching my parents age does make growing up any easier.  In fact the exact opposite. I used to say I wouldn't go back to high school for all the tea in china. (I don't know if tea comes from china or that was just another racist thing my grandparents said.) I would go back now if it meant that we could all go back.

It's not the lack of responsibility that I'm after, although that is a draw, it's not youth - oh to have my own boobs back though.  It's people. Grandma, Ma-ma, Aunt Leona, Mom. Maybe I am naive', maybe it's the naivete'!  One of grandma's saying that wasn't politically in correct was, "Youth is wasted on the young." (I know it wasn't her saying, I'm just saying, oh you know what I'm saying)

50 is old when you are 16. You look at those people and think OMG they are sooooo old. How so they get out of bed? What is left of their life? Shouldn't they be getting ready to die? And then you wake up almost 50 with two teenagers wondering how you got here. It all starts to speed up after 30 like someone hit the Fast Forward button. Or for my kids when you are finally reading this in 2055 - that was like when you would Skip the ad's to get to your video on YouTube. Hahaha. Remember that? Good Old days.

I know now that I won't get this time back - these moments and I think of all the moments that I spent doing nothing. Sleeping, worrying, watching TV, sitting on the couch in the corner talking on the phone because the phone was connected to the wall!!  I ask my kids to come hang out in the kitchen while I'm making dinner, Come talk to me, keep me company. My grandmother's words come out of my mouth.  Or I ask them to pick up the clothes that were washed and folded for them, Because someday you will miss that and I hear my mother. And I miss her so much my heart hurts.

Watching dementia steal my mother away, the one that I grew up with, the one that took me 35 years to understand is one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.  Youth isn't wasted on the young, we just don't know what it is until we hit 40.  We don't really understand half the stuff that old farts told us until then!! Is anyone else still figuring out -You can't see the forest for the trees - what the hell does that mean?

Youth isn't wasted, time is wasted. All the time we spend fretting, worrying, overthinking, judging mostly ourselves.  Then we get old and we know the value of time but we spend even more time fretting about our kids, worrying how they will end up, overthinking - everything, and judging mostly others but still ourselves.

All I asked my family for this year for Christmas was time. Let's spend some time together. Just hang out. Let's make some memories that I can hold onto before it all starts to slip away. Because I'm watching someone else I love slip away, and it's killing me.  When that day comes all I have are memories, moments. All you will have are these moments.

What happened to Christmas Break?

I started out very sentimental, singing this song in my head and thinking about Christmas past....then I find this video to insert and started cracking up at Faith Hill's hair. It's crimped!!
Do you remember, when we though crimping was actually going to Staaaaaayyyyyy - aaayyyy - aayyy!! Baaahaaahaaa sorry for the digression.

What happened to Christmas break?! Somewhere in my life it went from "WHEN IS CHRISTMAS BREAK" to "HOLY SHIT IT'S CHRISTMAS BREAK." There is not a chance that I can get anyone's gift sent on time at this point, I haven't made a Christmas card, again, this year, and my neighbor's who are all 70 and above will start dropping off plate of cookies and the best I can do is throw some of the Ester Price candy my husband got but won't eat on a plate. (But of course I won't because then I wouldn't get to eat it)

My thirteen year-old son, who is not at all enamored with school, has been asking if he can start Christmas Break since Thanksgiving. His reasoning -there was not really all that much time between the two anyway. Me not being so enamored with my job, would tend to agree. But of course while he foresaw laying on the floor playing Xbox for hours each day with friends I was thinking of laying on the couch watching hours of Hallmark Christmas movies with my friends - Ben and Jerry.

When I was younger Christmas was all about Hope. Wishes. Christmas was when all your hopes and dreams might come true. Whether it was the latest toy or a hair crimper, or later on whether it really was peace on earth or at least in Congress.  It just seems like there is something in the air this time of year.

Love

The older I got the more cynical it felt. But was that really Christmas? Or just me?  The more I watch my children grow the more I learn and understand about myself.  I really did listen to all the lyrics in this song again and thought about how hard it was to derail my hope, love, and focus at 8 years old when I truly thought there would be a horse for me under the Christmas tree. (If I were in  Hallmark Christmas it would have been there!)

Christmas didn't change over the years, I was changing. I was finding my way, finding myself, finding my passions, or not. It made the whole world look different, especially people.  Going into a mall to get one more gift would set off a string of curse words that would make a sailor blush and hours of ranting and raving about how everyone was ruining Christmas with their crazy commercialism.

It has taken me years to learn this simple fact, that I hope to help my kids learn long before I did. The feelings that I hold in my heart will manifest all around me.  Protecting my heart is the most important thing that I can do for myself and my family.  Keeping hope and love alive everyday is not just a Christmas thing.  It's hard sometimes. Goodness knows! Life gets messy, complicated, frustrating, overwhelming, and keeping your chin up in spite of it all......

That's when we need each other. We need help in protecting our heart. And if we have learned how to do that for ourselves, we can not help one another. Not just at Christmas time in Hallmark's Christmas Village (Where the hell is this place by the way because I want to GO THERE!) but at the Mall, at the Grocery, in the parking lot, in traffic, in a crowded sidewalk.  We can smile, say please, thank you and Happy Holidays, we can let in one more car, or pick up the scarf the person just dropped.  We can look after each other the way we should. Not because it's Christmas, because we are all love.

Love

It sounds too simple. Too hookie. Without love in your heart, in your life, in your work, in your day it's hard to give any love back.  And the more you give the more you receive.  It's too easy to focus on all the love that is not out there, all the vitriol being spewed in a constant stream in TV, Radio, Social Media, and on the darn device we all carry in our pockets every minute of every day.

I'm going to take the best advice out there right - "It's easy to count your troubles, try counting your Joys instead"  That device that I carry in my pocket every where I go and look at 10,000 times a day. I have changed the lock screen to this - LOVE. Just, love. To remember that beyond Christmas, beyond all the madness, there is love. That is hope.

Happy Holidays. May you find lots of love.

What am I doing wrong?!

I give up! I do. This is not a problem I can google, research, or pray away.

My kids don't have any friends and it is all my fault.

If my kids grow up to be alcoholics my husband and I do not have to take any credit for it - the genes maybe- but our children have not grown up in a house or a culture of alcohol.  My husband never drinks, myself rarely. In fact so rarely the comments my kids have made about my "drinking" are comical. And they also allude me as I am writing this at 4 in the morning. There are many other things that we can take credit for and this one - no friends - it's all our fault.

I don't have girl-friends.  I never have. I have made very few very close friends in my life.  The older I get the more I realize that this is not normal, but I'm rounding 50 - it's not likely to change now. It's not like I didn't try throughout my life. I did! I have! But I obviously don't know what the hell I'm doing because it doesn't work for me. People come and go, or pass thru, or more likely they just say "You are so {enter a superlative} it was nice to meet you/" Then they run in the other direction.

My sister's and I are not friends. That right there should have been my first clue I suck at this. The two people in the world that have to be my friend said "F@%& Off".  I clearly do not understand how to do Friendship. It really didn't dawn on me after college for quite a while.  My husband and I married and figuring that out was a nightmare. What am I saying, I still haven't figured it out I am just less in triage and more in managed care.

But seeing and hearing other women in work situations talk about girls nights, and girls trips, and girlfriends I realized I was missing out on something everyone else had.  It wasn't until after my first son was born and I was staying home with him that I knew I had to fix this. I joined not one but two mom's groups and we went to every Parent.Child class my husband taught. I went to playgroups and story time - You Name It! Nothing. It was a lot of - Nice to meet you, Goodbye.

When the kids got in school I volunteered, helped in the classroom, joined committees, I joined a Bunko group - not for the kids just for myself. I was in that group what like 10 years!  I haven't spoken to the women since I quit. Are you convinced yet? I am Crazy right - So bat shit crazy that people meet me and run in the other direction.

Why is any of this important. Because my 16 year-old son has no social life. None. What 16 year old kid has NO social life?! One that was raised on the island of Misfit toys with his mom that's who!! And my 13 year old son - is just like his father. Very social, very outgoing, great at bringing people together. Yes, bringing THEM together...then they leave him out.  My most popular kid could get the entire 8th grade class to wear pink and go to the Volleyball game for support but not one of those kids will call him to hang out. Why? Because his mom is that crazy lady that everyone says "Hi" to and then runs in the other direction.

What am I doing wrong? I truly do not have a clue. But I just want to say to my kids, probably the only ones who will ever read this when I eventually get dementia and stop using my computer and they go searching for pictures or cryptocurrency, I am sorry. I am so very sorry that your mom truly failed you in this area.

All in a day off

Friday's are my day "off". Early this year the young intern that I work with thought this was fabulous and asked me if I sleep in and go to the pool? Ah-No. Let me describe my last day off to you.

Last Friday, I was still up at 6 am trying to rouse the oldest from his bed. He had said he need to get up but somehow that had changed over night and he was no longer interested in  getting out of bed nor me saying it 100 times. By 7 am I start the process of waking up the youngest because if I don't he won't be out of bed by 8 am. I make two lunches, some semblance of breakfast, my hydro flask full of tea, and take both boys to school.

By 8:20 I had dressed for a morning meeting, gotten one son off to school packed the lunches, made a grilled cheese sandwich, started a load of laundry, finished the dishes in the sink, loaded the dishwasher, and we were headed off to school.  We stopped at the bus stop to save our neighbor girl because the bus had never shown up and I deposited them at the JrHS before the first bell rang.

I was off to get gas in the car, drop off some mail, and pick up 2 lbs of pistachio's for the office stash while also delivering 2 lbs. of coffee to my boss because we would never use it.  Then I dashed downtown for a meeting hoping that I had the right building in mind and would not need to pay to park, because I did not have any cash.

A little over two hours later and my entire hydro flask of tea, I was exiting the building when it became very clear that I was not going to make it to the car let alone home with out first finding a restroom. I was in a 10 story office building downtown - easy peasy I'll just use the restroom in the lobby.

Well, No. Not so easy  almost a lot of peasy as I tried the bathroom in the lobby, locked. Then someone coming off the elevator suggested I just ride up a floor I'm sure its's not locked. After 6 floors and a bladder that was screaming - STOP! I rode the elevator all the way back down and went out to the car praying I would find a somewhere nearby. I was just about to pull out of the parking lot when I see a back alley connecting to a Marathon station. Perfect! Gas station = Restroom.

I drove over and carefully extracted myself from the car because at this point I was playing Russian Roulette with my bladder.  Stepping inside I spot the restroom and also the checkout counter. Being the courteous restroom non-patron I am, I smiled broadly and asked if it was ok could I just use the restroom?  In broken, English, not unlike that of my husband after a morning on Viber with relatives, the man smiled and said "something something  Yes Yes." Ok so I go over and both restrooms have a sign on the door that say SORRY CLOSED FOR SERVICE. I turn back around and smile at the man politely hoping that the swirling motion does not trick my bladder into thinking it's go time and say "Are you sure they are ok to use?" And once again I get "something something Yes Yes."

I'm desperate. I open the women's restroom door and it looks like a crime scene! I'm not a fan of NCIS or any of the Law & Order's but I swear to you I think I saw this on a show preview.  How do I back out now?! The man was so smiley and kind and all his "Yes Yes".  Almost hyperventilating from the pain of holding every muscle in my body tight I'm thinking OK - I grew up around farms, I've peed in the woods and countless soccer field porta-potty's under every condition.  I'm sure I've been in worse.

Then I realize the door does not lock. I would be lying if I didn't admit that was almost the kicker that sent this over the edge but it was at that point that my bladder, sensing that it was in near vicinity of what might be relief was screaming "Yes Yes."  Stepping over trash, toilet paper, what looks like road kill, and possibly a dead body or at least Jason Bourne's last disguise  I used a paper towel that was not on the floor to hold on to the handicap bar because I am NOT sitting on that toilet seat under any circumstances. I pee'd for what had to be 20 minutes.  My husband, a trainer, could not come up with a more torturous position.  It was not unlike the scene in Austin Powers when he pees after being frozen for 20 years. All the while I have my eyes trained on the door thinking that Guy Smiley at the counter may not hesitate to send in anyone else that asks with his "something something Yes Yes."

There was at least soap and water at the sink and also a sign that made me stop and laugh so hard I might have pee's my pants in other circumstances...it read:

Given my age that was the moment that I thought Ashton Kushner would pop up off the floor from playing dead and yell "You've been punked"  I have never pee'd and flee'd a gas station so fast in my life hoping that if it does end up as a viral You Tube video at least I washed my hands.

That is how my day's off seem to go...at least up until lunch.

What is a Friend?

What is a Friend?

When you are very young blankie and teddy are your best friends. The woman at the store who hands you a cookie as you pass the bakery is your friend, the big yellow bird in the TV is your friend. (yes I am that old)

Getting a little bit older you feel the power of people NOT being your friend. Suddenly when you don't get what you want Mommy is not your friend anymore. And neither is Niles because he hogs all the Matchbox cars so you have every right to slap him with your foot. (Dude you had to see that coming) I digress, literally

Friends come and go and the requirements for BFF status change.  From 4th grade to Junior High there are major changes in what you need in a friend.  Riding bikes to the pool and playing clue in the basement or Ghost in the Graveyard after dark are so much different than cheer-leading tryouts and your first kiss.

When our life changes our requirements change and so do some of our friends.

But when did the requirements for a Friend change?

Twice this summer I have been hit with really sad news at the last minute when someone remembered that I am not on Facebook.  The text's I received said, "Sorry you are not on Facebook but..."

I am not sorry. I am not on Facebook for a reason but I will save that for another day.

My question is, When did being a Friend require that I am on your Facebook page?

I ask myself this question daily - Am I the idiot? Do I have it all wrong? I was never a cool kid and I am certainly not now.....but how can I be, because I am not on Facebook? Maybe I am the one stuck in JR High and need to "grow up" but to me a friend is someone who cares about you enough to want to talk to you, usually in person, but the phone will do. A friend is someone who wants to hang out with you and see the pictures of your vacation, hear the stories, laugh so hard about your son who got to Boston with no shoes in the dead of winter that she snorts wine up her nose and now they both have a new nickname.

A friend is someone who loves you enough to spend time with you in good times and bad. Even if that means crying over the phone. Who sends her love and energy when you get diagnosed.  Who drops off a casserole or a bottle of wine.  Who remembers your Birthday. Well, at least the Big Ones. OK so I get it there within the same year, danmit! I never said I was perfect.

Anyone is your friend because you can "Friend" them.  And then you can elevate their friend status with your "Likes". You can also tear them down - if just not liking them isn't good enough you can "Unfriend them" Ha! Take that Mrs. Stole my boyfriend in Seventh Grade.  Now not only can I carry the grudge around on my back for twenty years I can torment you on Facebook with snarky comments.

I never said I was perfect. I am certainly not the perfect friend. I haven't had many friends throughout my life and some I thought were my friends were not. That hurt badly and I know that I have never fully recovered from that.  I am guarded about getting close and quick to write people off.

The one thing that I do know is - we all need friends. And even if it's been a long time if you called me up tomorrow and said I can get a free couch but it's on a boat down at the Marina will you help me move it? I would say SURE. Not realizing what I am agreeing to and almost taking off my hand trying to get a sofa bed out of the tiny haul of a "Yacht" that could not make it on Below Deck.

(yeah, we are NOT doing that again!)

My point is that I may never be on Facebook but I will always be a Face in your book.

(That sounded a lot better in my head at 3 a.m. this morning. Does it sound ok? Really? Oh hell who I am asking - I don't have any friends!)

Have I lost my voice?

I think about how often I used to think "I have to write that down!" Let alone how much more often I sat down and wrote.

I don't do that anymore.

It's been bothering me for quite a few years now because the whole point of keeping this blog was to have at least this for my sons - if not pictures, memories, mementos, they would have their mother's words about them, their lives, their ups and downs and my joy in watching it all. I've lost my voice.

When did it happen? When did it get to hard to write?

When my oldest started Junior High? That was a tough time, for both of us.  My Junior High PTSD was triggered and his was just beginning.  My kids are still amazing and funny and brilliant and talented....maybe I'm not? Don't freak out I am NOT looking for sympathy here, I am truly just trying to dig deeper into this instead of hitting the easy button - "I went back to work".

Now that No.2 son has gotten through year one of Junior Hell I am looking into what it is that has descended upon our house. Puberty? That what the SMELL is!!

The boys are getting older, busier, more independent (in some ways, they still can't find the dishwasher).  Our relationship is changing as it should, but I've not only lost my voice, I've lost my place. I am not sure where to fit in anymore. It's not easy being Mom to a teenage boys. What are my choices?

or

There maybe more grey area than I think here.

My life at the moment...

Being the mom of two teenage boys is not something a book or friend can prepare you for, particularly the mood swings and snarky comments.

So Friday is a day going down in history when on I got an email from my now 16 year old son after he left for school.
TO: Mom
FROM: Son
SUBJECT: Hey check this out....
Mom - You ARE smart!!! Casey Niestat VLOG - YouTube
(FYI - Watch this after you read the blog it will make WAY more sense but still make you crack up)

My son just recently turned 16 and the day before his surprise birthday party he attended the neighbor girls 16th birthday party.  He was not really excited to go which he told me 100 times. He felt like she was just inviting him because they are neighbors the same age that grew up together. He said he never see's her at school and doesn't really hang out with anyone in that group. But he went.

The next morning as I am scrambling to organize the last detail of his party I was also trying to get him out of his grumpy @$$ mood.  He was in his room looking sound asleep so I went in and laid down on his bed too. I told him I felt like I could sleep for a week. He grunted a whatever noise. I asked if he was tired.  He grunted a no noise.  (I have become an expert at dis-gruntling grunts)

Knowing that the male species needs time and space to properly disgrunt I just lay there waiting.  Soon he said "I was just laying here wondering why I don't have any friends?" This is not a new conversation.  We have been having this conversation at least once a year since 4th grade.  He never really connected or fit in with the boys in his grade school and when he did finally make two good friends in 6th grade - they both moved away.

Anywho - here we were hours before I need to get him to his Surprise 16th Birthday party which three of his friends helped me organize. I gave them free range to invite any and all of the kids they saw fit. The guest list was about 30 kids.  And here he was telling me how he didn't have any friends, I was hoping that they all showed up!!

What I did say was that he had three really good friends that the knew he could count on - which is more than I can count. I explained that in life we will cycle through friends that work or don't work depending on where we are and where they are along the way.  Making circles with my hands I said you have three good friends in this small intimate circle, you have a lot more people in this bigger circle that you may not see everyday but you enjoy hanging out with them or see them doing a sport season.  Then there is this larger group of people that you know through other people, sports, the neighborhood, school in general, or maybe just social media. I reminded him gently, since I really didn't want to start a fight or further gruntle the mood, that these are the people he could reach out to more instead of just watching them on Instagram and wishing he were part of the fun.

My son is a lot like me and I explained, not for the first time, that I had a hard time making friends in high school also. That I hung out more in the teachers lounge than in the hallway. (I was NOT dating teachers I just got along better with them than my peers - let me make that clear!) I always hung out with a group of seniors and my two best friends growing up where my grandmothers. For what ever reason, I gravitate told people that are older than me.

It wasn't until after high school that several girls that I thought hated me explained that they were just too intimidated by me.  They said I was so confident. HA! When I explained that I was probably 10x more scared than anyone in the room - ALWAYS - and they were blown away. Because that is not how I carried myself.  Well then - where is my Oscar??

We talked a little more about how I think that because he is 6'4", carries himself with an air of confidence whether he is having a panic attack or not (like his mom), and the fact that he can talk to anyone - like the principal, athletic director, teachers- intimidates most high school kids.  And then I threw him out of bed and into a shower because we had to get him to his party somehow.

Well, we did get him to his party - he was totally surprised! And overwhelmed. Not just on Sunday but at school the next day by how many people that couldn't make it said Happy Birthday. I was hoping that it would have a lasting effect....I guess his email to me is proof I said something right.

To Be a Teenager - Or Not To Be. Is that the question?

How naive - how stupid of me! To think that once that you are done being a teenager, you are done being a teenager.

Will I ever be done being a teenager?

I don't remember feeling quite as assaulted or hurt even in High School (and High School was BAD for me) as I have by the words of my own teenage son.  I'm not talking about the occasional flippant backtalk. I'm talking about the comments that come out of nowhere and hit you like a stray bullet from a drive by shooting.  The kind of words that make me defensive and angry before I can even register and I start spewing back- only to feel horrible and suddenly like a teenager all over again.

My oldest son has a way of laying in wait for a long time and then like a cobra strikes without warning. Rearing up in the most menial conversation and delivering the lethal blow so casually.  My youngest son does not wait but strikes constantly like a hyena he just keeps up the barrage some witty and some with deadly.

Perhaps you have children like this also? Or is it just me?  Do my children know how to push my button because I have shown them just exactly how to find those buttons? Or because I have shown them how to strike? I think that is what causes me the greatest pains as of late.  The children I have raised are a direct reflection of me I know...and I do not like all that I see.

The parts that break my heart are those that I have to take responsibility for utterly and completely.  It would be wonderful to give up that responsibility by blaming all manner of others but alas, I can not. This is most certainly my doing - or more accurately my not doing.  I do my best to avoid all manner of confrontation unless A. We are on the highway traveling 70 mph and I will never see you again B. We live in the same house.  The old saying is that you only hurt the ones you love the most. That was a skill not only learned but honed in my house growing up. We were the very picture of perfectly dysfunctional family.

I was talking with a friend from High School the other day and we were reflecting on our families, our town, our upbringing.  Both of us raised Catholic we have long ago walked away from that church for many reasons some similar.  One thing we both said was how hypocritical it felt that so many we knew regarded themselves as Holy because they went to church on Sunday. I'm not the first person to remark that just because you go to church on Sunday doesn't give you freedom to be an Asshole the other 6 days.

But as I said those words it dawned on me, that just because I think I am a good person doesn't necessarily mean I am one.  The measure of that is what?  Well, in my opinion it's how you behave when no one is looking....or more importantly, when your kids are looking. 

Am I a good person when I never speak out, always mind others, and take it on the chin? No. Because keeping your mouth shut in all the time means blowing up like a raging lunatic in front of or worse yet at my kids.  They do not see the hurt they only get to feel it and never have a clue why. This is just honing their skill at showing the world only one face while showing your loved ones the other.

The kindness that I try to spread everyday in my life: opening a door, smiling at a stranger, letting someone by in traffic, offering excellent customer service even in the harshest of interactions, giving my time to help others in need.....my kids do not see any of it. They see the frazzled and frayed mom who had patience at 6 am but by 6 pm is throwing dinner and barking orders at them.  Who never takes time for herself because there is no time, who doesn't take vacation with them because there is no money, and who spends her weekends playing caught up on sleep, chores, and cooking.

I was lamenting the other day and a friend said "It's all teenagers. Hang in there. Besides you don't think we gave our parents this much angst? Ha.Ha" 

No Actually. I do not think that I gave my parents this kind of angst. I think I caused them worry - is she sleeping with that boy, is she smoking pot, where is she tonight partying somewhere or lying dead in a ditch.  I do not think that my parents ever had a personal or existential crisis regarding their very being.

Is it just me? Is this another weird wacky "me" thing that only I wrestle with? How will my children learn true love, kindness, hard work, perseverance, stewardship, social responsibility?  I guess it begs the question - Do we learn these things only from only our parents? Or only after our parents?  Because on further reflection I have to wonder, Where did I learn these things? And When?

This is a 50 thing isn't it!!!!  On the heels of turning yet another milestone corner will I finally get to put the teenager in me to bed once and for all and feel like a grown up.....or do I just get to feel old?