Milestones

My youngest graduates High School today.  This is one of the major milestones in one's life and what a wild, twisting, winding, bumpy, pot-hole-filled road it's been.  I will never EVER say that's it's been easy or without anguish, tears, angry words and total frustration because it has been.  Getting a piece of coal to a diamond takes lots of heat and pressure and time.  Good lord, I thought child-birth was hard.

As a parent, it is now our job to push him out of the next and you'd think that having already done so with our oldest, this would be a cakewalk.  It's anything but.  It scares the hell outta me.  The oldest is in college and safely (mostly) ensconsed in the protective (mostly) confines of a dorm on campus.  He's not out there having to face the cold, cruel world just yet.  It's coming.  But, the youngest is heading out to another state to work, to get paid, to manage money, to follow rules set by someone other than his parents.  To survive and my mind spins in vicious circles asking and arguing with myself over whether we've fully prepared him for what's coming.

And I just don't know.  I guess we won't know for years to come.  I believe that we've done our best, that we've taken from our own experiences as young adults and tried to teach him or at least explain to him the possibilities-both good and bad-that are out there.  Whether any of that has penetrated his still developing brain is anybody's guess.

I worry because when demon-spawn isn't standing in my kitchen, he's the kindest, most generous, most loving and trusting child I have and it scares me because that opens him to all sorts of people who will take advantage of him.  I've already seen it in some of the people he calls friends.  Friends of convienence.  Friends who need a ride.  Friends who need a coke.  Friends who need a sandwich.  Friends who need and rarely give back.  It breaks my heart.

My oldest's soul is like memphis bbq.  His flame burns low and slow.  My youngest is a Thai wok.  His flame burns hot, bright and fast and it consumes a lot of energy and resources.  He has a mind that is on super sonic speed all the time and it's exhausting just trying to keep with, much less stay ahead of him all the time.

Both boys' souls were brought to us for a reason.  Their souls have been surrounded by this group of souls for a reason.  Some souls have moved in and out of the group and those that have come back, have come back for a reason.  I know that ALL of the souls in this circle have lessons to be learned from this group.  Our job is to figure out what they are and evolve from them.

I have found strength in many of the people traveling in this circle of souls.  Sometimes in the most unlikliest of people and I've also found judgement.  None, though, have judged me more harshly than I have myself.  I suppose all parents go through this and I suppose I'm not different than any other parent, it's just that in this moment, I feel like I'm the only parent out there with a child about to walk out into the cold, cruel world.

Balderdash

I Felt His Anguish

We were at dinner with friends for another friend's birthday.  I saw them walk in, a mother, older, a son, maybe in his early 20's and a father.  All seemed relatively normal so I didn't pay much attention.  When we all walked in, the family was sitting at a table behind us and I heard the son say something along the lines of, "Girls!"  I was then aware that his mental age was maybe 5, maybe 6.
What happened next had a startling affect on me.  He began to act out a little.  Like any child, he was hungry and when children get hungry they get aggitated.  Those of us who have children have all experienced this.  All you want is a cracker to shove in their mouths.  A kingdom for a cracker.
He was hungry.  He was a 5 year old in a 20 year old body that weighed 300lbs and he wanted a fucking cracker.  He started his tantrum.  It was a 5 year old's tantrum in a 20 year old's body.  He began to cry and beg his parents not to make him leave because he was hungry and he would be good.  All of this while pushing himself in his chair across the restaurant towards the back and all the while, his mother telling the people around them that they were trying to get him out.
A 5 year old, you can pick up and sling over your shoulder or your hip.  Not a 20 year old, 300lb human with the mind of a 5 year old.
I felt his anguish.  I felt how badly he wanted a cracker or his dinner.  I felt his parents' anguish at having a son who isn't like other sons.  Parents who tried to deal with him with calm and patience.  Parents who have probably seen this behavior numerous times and who probably hope that this would be the last time but who probably know it won't.  Parents who are trying to have a normal life and give their son a normal life but who know it's anything but normal.  Parents who live with the stress everyday of not knowing how their son will behave next.  Parents just trying to raise a child and give him a cracker.
I felt that to my soul and it hurt.  I also heard and saw the reactions of the people around them.  The staring.  The whispering behind their hands.  They were afraid and they were judging and THAT pissed me off.  It made me angry and hurt for that family.  A family who has a soul that chose them and chose to manifest as a child in an adult's body.  A soul that mixed with many souls who were in that moment and all together for a reason.  There was something to learn.
Sad thing is, most of those people staring and whispering have missed the lesson.  Most didn't feel what I felt or those parents felt or that child felt.  They were too wrapped up in having their dining experience messed up by a child who just wanted something to eat.
Most were probably thinking, "There but for the grace of God," and I'm thinking, "There by the grace of God."  I realized that though there are times when we struggle with our children, our problems are not nearly as profound or hard as theirs.  And while our boys are young with still developing male brains, they are not 5 year olds who only know that in that moment they wanted a fucking cracker.  And we are parents who can still handle our boys.  And for the most part, we can be confident that when we go out in public, we won't have an incident or episode that disrupts our evening and causes other ignorant people to talk behind their hands and whisper hurtful or judemental things about us.  At least not for that reason.
I also realized that the love those parents have for their child is truly unconditional and I felt humbled because I haven't always been able to say that about my children.  It had to be unconditional otherwise, why continue to put yourself in that situation?  They just want a normal child.  They don't have it.  I'm sure they are doing the best they can and it's put me to shame.  And it should have shamed everyone in that restaurant who has children or who was thinking of having children and who said, "There but for the grace of God," but should be saying, "There BY the grace of God."
I will find and carry that fucking cracker for my children and will remember that incident forever and will remember this lesson everytime I lose my patience with my children.

The Things You Find

So, I'm cleaning up the back yard which includes scooping Abbey's (the lab puppy) poop. Now, for most people, that would be an unremarkable thing because for most people, dog poop would be just dog poop.

Not on Maury street and not in our back yard. It's an adventure. Today, I found a piece of RCA universal remote, numerous pieces of a blue, silicone supposedly indestructible chew toy, about 8' of multicolored yarn, a pile of poop that only had enough poop in it to bind together the 2 lbs of various pieces of fabric from what I can only assume were once stuffed animal chew toys and the lid from a small plastic bottle that once contained my test strips.

She's also very fond of pooping in the monkey grass and vinca major and one can only assume she does that to hide her poop from us so that we can't see how much crap is IN her poop.

Clever girl.

BREAKING NEWS

BREAKING NEWS: This just in....A rodent aka flying squirrel aka sugar baby was released from her kidnappers and torturers aka "those damn cats" and one eager bouncy lab puppy this morning at approximately 4:32AM. The victim was found confined in the bathroom and hiding in the shirts belonging to one human known as Ginger Leonard. According to records, those shirts were hanging on the back of the linen closet door. The human, clad only in a t shirt, was able to scatter the cats and control the lab puppy long enough to cradle the frightened rodent in a wadded up towel then release said rodent in the front yard. The hostage crisis ended peacefully and the rodent was said to flick her tail in appreciation towards the human hero. 

-endit-

Christmas Day 2012

It's Christmas day.  The oldest just walked through the living room in a stupor headed for the bathroom then returned to his room and went back to bed.  I'm not sure he's even conscious.  I'm not sure I am.

What happened to the day when the boys couldn't wait to get up and see what Santa had brought them?  What happened to the day when I couldn't wait FOR them to get up and see what Santa had brought them?  Right, that sort of died when they found out who Santa really was.  The glitter fell off of the day.  The shine left and now, it's not much more than a regular day.

At least that's what this one feels like.  Of course, we've never really made a huge deal out of it probably because until this year, Hannukah was a big deal, but even this year that was just a blip.

I'm not sure why.  Maybe because there's been death and loss and heartache for much of the year.  Maybe because we said goodbye to good friends and family.  Maybe because child-like left this house.  Maybe...maybe....maybe....

I remember when I found out who Santa was and I was crushed.  It felt like I was forced to grow up and leave child-like behind.  There have been many other events in my life that has forced me to leave child-like behind and I'm discovering that I have some resentments about that.  I know--I know--resentments are poison.  I'm working to identify and release them.  There was a photo on facebook that read something to the effect of forgive and release.  That's my new year's resolution but don't get me started about those.  That's an entirely different post.

Christmas is a big deal, or at least it should be.  Not because of the material things that come along with it.  That's a product of brilliant marketing and greed.  It should be a big deal because of the emotions and sentiment that comes with it, the traditions that many of us have created and fostered over the years, because it brings the child-like back.  It should be a big deal because of what it puts into our hearts.  It should be a bigger deal because it should reinforce that what we feel around this season should be felt and practiced all year.  

Why do we hold one day out to give a gift?  To express our feelings for one another?  Why is it safe for only one day to do this?  Why have we set ourselves up like this?  Why have we made one day to either elate us or set ourselves up for a grand disappointment?  

Maybe this day should be just like any other day.

Or maybe, just maybe, all the Who's down in Whoville, all the creatures big and small, should make every day just like this one special day.

Girls Who Drive Pickup Trucks

I love 'em.  There's just something about a girl who drives a pickup truck.  She has attitude.  She has a swagger--some bigger than others.  In a former life, she probably rode bulls and in this life probably rides figurative bulls.

A girl who drives a truck gets looked at.  Some people are thinking, "What the hell?' and others are thinking, "Wow."  Some are thinking, "what a weirdo," and some are thinking, "holy hell, she's doable."  Some avoid girls who drive trucks and some go out seeking them.

Whatever the case, girls who drive trucks get noticed.

I drive a truck.  It's a truck that suits me and represents me.  She's bossy and comes down the road sprinkling attitude everywhere she goes.  She has blemishes and externally looks like hell chewed her up and spit her out but she is a monster workhorse when it counts.  So do I.

I have attitude when I drive her.  I feel strong.  I notice people noticing and just don't give a shit.  I drive a truck.  I drive that truck for a reason, because THAT truck doesn't look like any other truck on the road.  Because THAT truck gets cranky when I get cranky and gets quiet when I get quiet.  Because THAT truck will pull and push and drag and carry and haul and work when I need her to work.  So do I.

I love my truck.  I love that there are other people who love that I drive that truck.  I love that there are other people who love me because I drive that truck.  I love that there are other people who understand me either because I drive that truck or in spite of it.  I love that I don't really care what other people think about me driving that truck.

I'm a girl who drives a truck.  Cope.

Perspective

Perspective.  According to Webster, it means: 

 

per·spec·tive

   [per-spek-tiv]  Show IPA

noun

1.

a technique of depicting volumes and spatial relationships on aflat surface. Compare aerial perspective, linear perspective.

2.

a picture employing this technique, especially one in which it isprominent: an architect's perspective of a house.

3.

a visible scene, especially one extending to a distance; vista: aperspective on the main axis of an estate.

4.

the state of existing in space before the eye: The elevations lookall right, but the building's composition is a failure in perspective.

5.

the state of one's ideas, the facts known to one, etc., in havinga meaningful interrelationship: You have to live here a few years

  tosee local conditions in perspective.

This speaks of distance and the physical relationship of one object to another.  I supposed I could use this to put relational importance on my problems as compared to those around me.  

Sometimes, we get so caught up in our own thinking and surviving that we forget about others.  Our problems become huge, in our minds, because we have nothing to compare them to.  

My house is a wreck.  That is a huge problem for me but unless something reminds me, I forget that there are others out there who have no house.  That puts my problem into perspective.

I have a cold and it sucks and for me, in this moment, it's about all I can think of.  And then--something reminds me.  I have friends who have loved ones who may not make it through the night.  I have friends who have lost loved ones recently.  Puts my cold into perspective.

I have had several reminders today that as large as I may think my problems are, there are those out there who have problems much worse than mine.  Puts my stuff into perspective.  Finding perspective gets me to grateful.  Getting to grateful gives me grace.  Grace gives me strength and strength gives me courage which helps me examine my perspective

And spun from that circle is peace.  

Today, I have peace and all that goes with it.  Tomorrow will bring a new perspective.