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A Necessary Truancy
“Is this Amanda?”
Yes.
“I have your son in the health office – he says he has a headache and is nauseous”.
(refrain from asking if she means to imply he’s making others feel sick, you grammar nazi! Besides, there are now two definitions for ‘nauseous’)
“Would you like to speak to him?”
Yes please.
Nic get’s on the phone.
Me: What’s going on?
Nic: I don’t want to be here – I’m having a really bad day”.
I’m seeing this in my head:
And this too:
OK.
Honesty really racks up the points in my book. Honesty will earn you respect, and today earned me using my lunch to leave work, drive to his school and collect him.
I didn’t need the details yet, he told the truth and from the tone of his voice I got it.
Sometimes, we just want to go home. We’re done. We want comforting and to be surrounded by comfort.
I pulled up to the school and sprung him. I got the scoop about what possibly could have ruined his day in the whole hour and 20 minutes he was there. I won’t share the details – that’s not fair to him, but suffice it to say – he was in fact having a pretty crappy day.
Yes, he needs to learn to ‘decide to be happy’ to ‘soldier on in the face of adversity’ and to ‘not take things so personally’. But he’s 17. I’m in my 40’s and am still honing those skills.
When you’re a teenager, sometimes it does feel like your entire world is crumbling down around you, and you just want a time-out.
I am SO very grateful that my son can be honest with me. Oh, I know. I’m not so naive as to believe that he tells me everything, and nor should he. But when it really counts – we’re close enough that he trusts he can tell me the truth and not regret doing so.
Our ride from his school to our house was filled with conversation, observations, lessons and advice. Of course I stressed the importance of not missing anymore school – about not letting people ruin his day. That he can’t run away from every problem. About resentments – how futile they are. Metaphors flowed. “Nic, resenting them is like taking poison and expecting them to die!” Concerns were soothed, smiles were exchanged and I felt so very blessed.
No. He’s not my little boy anymore. No, I can’t save him from the world. But today I could give him a chance to regroup. To feel loved. To take a breath and collect his thoughts and I could take a rare opportunity to share some wisdom and experience with him.
When my grandson or granddaughter calls him years from now having a bad day, I hope he picks them up. Figuratively and literally. And I’m pretty sure he will. Because this young man who I am so lucky to call my son – is a kind-hearted, sensitive, funny, bright, loving soul.
All that being said, if he hadn’t told the truth, his butt would have stayed at school. 😉
Christmas countdown = layaway meltdown
The goblins and ghouls haven’t even tripped up the driveways grasping their candy bags yet, but my mind is on layaway!
When you’re on a meager budget – two months to eek out layaway payments might as well be two weeks.
Christmas shopping used to be easy – and a heck of a lot cheaper. That was before my Lego loving, Pokemon collecting boy turned into a teenager.
Although to be honest, Lego kits weren’t as inexpensive as they should have been (I think the bulk of the cost is to pay the scientists they must employee to write the instructions).
I feel SO old and out of the techy loop researching, comparing and contrasting the latest gadgets he’s widened his eyes for when they’ve come on TV. I don’t own an MP3 player – have never held an iphone, ipad or had the opportunity to converse with ‘Siri’.
If there’s going to be any yelping or whooping or shiny Christmas eyeballs – shopping must be done NOW.
I’m wondering if they let you put Black Friday items on layaway? Not that I’m getting up at the crack of dawn to try that out – but just curious.
Probably Siri knows.
Broken or evil?
In the news was a story about a missing 10-year-old girl. The news now tells us that a seventeen year old boy has been arrested in connection to the abduction and murder of that little girl.
The teens mother called the police and he turned himself in. I know in my head and my soul that was the right thing for her to do, but for the life of me – can not imagine or begin to fathom her pain!
It makes me think of one of my favorite quotes by W.H. Auden
“Evil is unspectacular and always human, and shares our bed and eats at our own table”.
I then think of the definition of evil. Profound immorality, wickedness, and depravity, esp. when regarded as a supernatural force.
Are people who commit murder evil? Or are they ill? I’m not talking about self-defense, I’m talking about taking someones life intentionally for no apparent justifiable reason.
Each one of us is capable of murder. But we’re wired to NOT.
So what is happening when there’s nothing in your head, heart or soul that shouts “NO!” And what must it be like to go through life that way?
I’m not excusing, justifying or siding with murderers, please don’t get me wrong!
But I struggle with this. If someone is born without the ability to understand right from wrong, void of the ability to empathize or sympathize and is capable of taking someones life – aren’t they too victims? Wired differently – from birth.
It boggles my mind.
When I’m in public, especially a large chain store – I wonder who just smiled at me, who just brushed past me. I passively interact with hundreds of people, and among them, statistics dictate there MUST be a sampling of child molesters, rapists, murderers … that man who held the door open for me, does he go home and beat his wife?
I drive to work and see children waiting at various bus stops to go to school and wonder which ones didn’t sleep well the night before due to abuse in the house.
Bullies. Well, of course I hated them as a child. But I know now they’re projecting their own pain onto others.
There’s just so much more than meets the eye. Definitely a topic I probably shouldn’t dwell too much on. But I am fascinated by human behavior.
What courage it took for that mother to turn her son in. I don’t know if I could have done that. I think a part of me would be in such denial – my first instinct would probably be to want to grab my ‘baby’ and run! Run away with him and try to make him well!
She did the right thing.
My heart aches for that little 10-year-old girl and her family.
My heart aches for the confessed murders family.
But is it wrong that my heart also aches for that 17-year-old who can never undo the life changing horror he committed?
The ‘ever after’ hair.
I remember when I was pregnant reading books and getting advice about newborns. What to do if a baby is unhappy, uncomfortable or crying – check if it’s hungry, wet, tired etc. and someone told me, ‘it could be as simple as a hair wrapped around its toe’.
Holy cow, I thought, that’s going to be hard to find!
I’m a little off lately, and I’m looking for the source.
Spiritual hair in place. Gratitude hair combed. Not hungry, not wet – a little tired.
What IS it then??
I’ve grown so much in the past few years and have never felt more comfortable in my skin. But something is amiss.
Thought maybe it was a need for companionship, but after watching ‘Eat, Pray, Love’ last night I was reminded that wasn’t it when Julia Roberts uttered the same words that I did almost three years ago. “I don’t want to be married”.
OK, so is it financial worries? No, not really. Money comes and goes. I have enough and know what’s important. Certainly not ‘things’. I have shelter and food. I’m good.
My friend cup is over flowing, so it’s not that either.
I think a little part of me feels stagnant. Every day is wonderful, don’t get me wrong – but I do feel like I’m really not going anywhere.
I used to think it wasn’t OK to look toward the future – I had to stay in the moment. I know I don’t want to be in the desert, working full-time and living paycheck to paycheck if I’m blessed to make it to old age, so really I probably should look ahead.
I have to put faith into action and dream a little. Where do I want to be in 5 years? 10? It’s not just going to magically happen.
I think that’s my hair. I will be alone in a few years and am not sure how to achieve my ‘ever after’.
My son will be living his life and enjoying his young adulthood (God willing) – and for once, I’m going to have to address my needs. I’m really not used to doing that and to be honest, I’m uncomfortable putting myself first.
I still have time to think about that – but my happy ending clock is ticking. I’d better figure out how I want my story to end because it’s not going to write itself!
Debauchery Soup 