Three Minute Runaway

My ten year old decided to run away today.

He says he has had it with us. He's tired of the rules and will not follow them anymore. We are the meanest parents ever and we are so hateful. "How could you be so mean to me?" Think huge huge tears rolling down cute chubby cheeks.

Son: "I'm done. I am outta here! *snap*

Or should I say *snip*? As in apron strings? I thought we had at least another eight or nine years before this milestone.

I guess I was wrong. Talk about life coming at you fast. I never saw this coming.

One minute you are telling your child, "No, we cannot blah blah blah." The next minute he is storming off with his electric guitar and Nintendo DS in hand. No clothes, no water, no food, not even his beloved Pokemon cards. Just the things that really matter: electric guitar and DS.

Me: "I'm going to miss you so much."

Son: "No you won't!"

He stormed off. I heard the front door open and slam shut. My husband was in the backyard. I talked to him through the window and explained that our eldest child was now gone, ready to make his way in the world. My husband was also sad, but we just looked at each other, not knowing what to say. We could only console ourselves knowing that we did our best.

About three minutes later, the boy came storming into my room.

Me: (surprised) "You're back?"

Son: "I don't know yet." (haughty chin up)

Me: "I'm so glad if you are back, I was gonna miss you so much."

Son: "No you weren't, you seemed glad that I was leaving." (looks confused and hurt)

Me: "How did I seem glad?"

Son: (ignores question, chin stays firmly up) "I'm only staying if you let me play in the backyard."

Me: (thinking) Backyard? What is this about the backyard? This is the first mention of it. Our argument was not about the backyard at all. Hmmm.

Me: "Well......only if you do NOT throw anything over the fence." (see "Eggs, Lies, and Videotape post)

Son: (calmly, chin still up) "Ok, I won't throw anything. But I'm NOT staying, if you don't let me play in the backyard."

Me: "As long as you don't throw anything and follow our rules, you are more than welcome to stay, Son."

Son: (thinking hard for about a nanosecond, lowers face including chin) Okay."

So, he's baa-aack!! I'm so glad he changed his mind!

Am I irritating you?

Me? Irritating? Oh no. Not me, maybe you, but definitely NOT me.

I have to admit I used to get easily irritated. Key words: used to. I've actually chilled out quite a bit.

My husband used to leave dirty dishes late at night in the sink. I'd be fuming the next morning. Now? "Oh, look, dishes. Hmmm." And then I get to them sooner or later. (probably much later, after sufficient blog reading.)

How about this classic scenario.

Husband: "Honey, where is the ....."
Me: "It's right there in the drawer."
Husband: "I'm looking in that drawer and I don't see it."

I then get up, go over, move one item, and ta-da there it is!

The list could go on and on regarding "kid-irritants." Probably the one near the top of the list would be trying to talk to Mom when she's on the phone.

"Who are you talking to?" I glare at him. Doesn't he understand the "glare" signal? It means go away NOW. And somehow he thinks my waving him away means come closer.

Kids speaking rudely and disrespectfully is also at the top of the list. There is nothing more embarrassing than when your kid has a nuclear meltdown in front of others.

"I hate you Mom, you're the worst Mom in the world. Why won't you buy this video game for me? Come on, I never get anything. All my friends get everything. I just want this one video game. Pleeeeeeeease. You hate me. You never get me anything, Mom! How come you hate me so much? You really do, you know. You HATE me."

I've learned if you smile at others when your kid screeches like this, they will look at you like you are certifiably crazy. They are already thinking something bad about you and your demon spawn. "What a brat! I'd HATE to be that kid's Mother." Instead, give them your best impish grin and let them think, "Well at least she's a happy hater."

Sometimes even friends can be irritating.

Some friends simply do not want to do their part to keep the friendship going. This is how a recent conversation went with one of my "best" friends. I'm starting to wonder about just how close we are. Lately, communication has not been that great. It takes two, you know.

Me: "I just don't know what I'm going to do with my son. Sigh. You never seem to have problems, you're lucky, your kid is mellow. I got stuck with a fireball."

Friend: "Have you...."

Me: "Did I tell you about how he got mad at me because I wouldn't agree to buy him a Wii game system. What does this kid expect? Does he think I'm made of money or what? Do you think I'm being mean?"

Friend: "Well...."

Me: "So what do you do when things like that happen. You are so lucky I just don't know what to do. I am at my wit's end. Any advice?"

Friend: "Sometimes I...."

Me: "And....you should see his room. It is a pig-sty! I am NOT going to help him clean up that mess. I mean really. Do you ever just feel like a maid?"

Friend: "I've learned....."

Me: "Oh my gosh, I've gotta go. I totally forgot that I told my son I'd take him to get a new video game today. I'm sorry, I really appreciate all you said. Great advice. Thanks."

Hard. Brick. Wall. Yeah thanks for all the advice and feedback, friend.

Thank goodness I've learned to chill out. Friends. Sheesh. It's sad when it becomes all about them, them, THEM! Once in awhile it would be nice if it could be about me, me, ME!

I mean really, how irritating is that?

Reach Out Touch Faith

"Your own personal Jesus. Reach out touch faith." Depeche Mode

Sometimes it's all we can do is reach out touch faith.

This is especially true when things happen that we don't understand. The age old questions: "Why must there be suffering?" and "Why do bad things happen to good people?"

I do not pretend to have the answer.

Sometimes all I can do is "reach out touch faith."

Faith that there is a plan.
Faith that there is something better beyond this life.
Faith that He does care.
Faith that His mercy is great.
Faith that He allows me to choose whether or not to follow Him.
Faith that He still loves me even when I choose not to.
Faith that when I stumble, He waits patiently.
Faith that sometimes He allows us to be led directly into the fire.
Faith that He will guide us through it, not around it.
Faith that we can be refined by the tough and painful times.
Faith that He knows my pain is real.
Faith that He cries and weeps with me.
Faith that I will turn to Him.
Faith that when I do, it strengthens me.
Faith that He is the source of true peace.
Faith that I will feel hope again.

So today I "reach out touch faith."

I Wanna Be the MOM of a Rockstar!

"When I find myself in times of trouble
Mother Mary comes to me
Speaking words of wisdom
Let it be." (The Beatles, "Let It Be")

Yes that would be my 10 year-old son playing this song on his electric guitar.

His guitar teacher, the music teacher extraordinaire, has graciously accepted our money and in return has allowed our son to jam in her house this summer. Along with other paying students they make up a.....band!

You should see the setup. I'll admit, I'm rock band challenged and I probably don't realize what is "missing" but one thing I do know. This girl can R.O.C.K.

The amps. They are HUGE. There is a full drum set, a bass guitar, electric guitars, acoustic guitars, a congo drum set and wires as thick as anacondas slithering everywhere.

My eyes popped out the first time I saw the setup. Amateur setup? Not in this family room!

And then the band started playing

Oh. My. Gawsh.

(THUD)

Did you hear that? The sound of my jaw hitting the floor.

I don't know what I was expecting, but they actually sounded, dare I say it, pretty good! I think I've listened to too many Disney tracks. Yes, we've been repeatedly tortured with all the songs from High School Musical 2. "You can bet on it, bet on it." Hannah Montana has crooned valuable advice that "life's what you make it, so let's make it rock!" And of course we have "the kids from the future" aka The Jonas Brothers, yep they rock. The Naked Brothers Band as far as I know, they still "don't wanna go to school."

Uh-huh. Been there, listened to that.

But today and now? That was MY little boy...rocking and rolling in a BAND!

Can you tell this is one of those proud, bursting at the seams Mommy moments?

Hey, it's not often you can be proud of your "rocker" son. There will be a rock concert at the end of summer. I'm getting my lighter ready.

This last week they added a singer to the group. She is some cute twelve year-old. I saw her running into the music teacher's house with her short shorts and tight top. I wasn't worried.

But now I am wondering if I should be. My immature ten year-old told me she wouldn't stop staring at him. He said, "Mom she's weird." That's what you say now, in a couple of years, you'll be singing a different tune.

Him: "She asked me if I like pizza. She kept on saying, 'Yo' to me."

I asked him if she paid attention to the other boy in the band. He said, "No, it was only me, Mom."

Hmmm.

I'm really happy he's doing so well with the guitar. I'm happy that he's playing in this band. Is this "singer" actually flirting with my son? This is such a foreign notion that I cannot wrap my brain around it.

Do I say something? Do I do anything? I have to protect my little boy, don't I? Isn't he too young to have a "groupie"?

"Kitten, stay away!" *Hiss, hiss*

This Cougar Mama ain't gonna let it be!

Eggs, Lies, and Videotape

My neighbors are so nice. I'm not sure if I would have been as nice as they were on Friday. Bea, a kinda sorta elderly woman who lives in the house behind us, calmly brought over a sack of various items she had been collecting that could maim or kill or take an eye out.

Yes our energetic and creative boys have nothing better to do than to launch items over the backyard fence to see how far that item will go. This is not the first time and they are both guilty.

Eggs seem to go the furthest. Yes, there was actually one that cleared their house and landed in their front yard. A grapefruit was lying there too. We have a grapefruit tree, Bea does not. Coincidence? I think not!

Those are not the only items that our little wanna be rocket scientists decided to test launch. Oh no, the list goes on: eggs, ice-cream sandwiches, oranges, grapefruits, bananas, empty crushed soda cans (the possible eye-taker outer), full soda cans (tab in place, hence it was full at the time of launch) and even VCR tapes.

VCR tapes?

Okay. We still own a VCR. Primitive, I know. We also own a DVD player. We are neck to neck with the Jones's in that respect. I guess the boys are hoping we'll replace any movie that was on tape with a DVD.

Yeah, that must be it.

Through the years my backyard block fence has been decorated many times over with mud-clots. At least those wash off fairly well with a good rinsing. Both of the boys are guilty of egging our fence, much to my dismay. The eggs do add a nice shine to things, even though it is spotty. You can rinse and rinse and scrape and scrape and that shine will still be there. It never goes away. I guess the cockroaches and egg shine will be the only things that will survive a nuclear attack. My 10 year-old son? I'm not sure how long he'll be surviving.

I knew something was up that afternoon. He had a friend over and they had been in the backyard to jump on the trampoline. I heard some quiet laughing and giggling. That sent off alarm bells in my head.

"Son, come here now please." My son walks in. I ask him, "Are you throwing eggs?" Son: "No Mom, I'm not." Me: "Are you throwing anything over the fence?" Son: "No Mom, honest, I'm not."

(trusting foolish Mom) Me: "Okay."

Eggs, as well as other food stuffs and non-food stuffs, WERE thrown. And this was not the first time. We have had other friends come over and throw things over as well. The common denominator in all these episodes is...hmm...let me think...oh yeah..my son!

My son was adamant that he had not lied. He did not throw anything. His friend had done the throwing.

Flabbergasted I asked, "Did you really not understand when I asked 'did YOU throw anything' it meant you or your friend?"

"That's not what you asked Mom. You asked if I threw anything and I did not, honest!"

Sigh.

Obviously a lesson in communication was very much needed. I explained at length the difference between the literal "you" and the implied "you."

The honesty lesson came next. We had to define and distinguish between truth and stretching of the truth. We had to clearly delineate that stretching of the truth equals a lie.

I think he gets it now. I sure hope so. I'm pretty sure our neighbors hope so too.

We marched over to the neighbor's house so the boys could deliver a personal apology. We had in tow: one apology letter from our 10 year old, a verbal apology that our 4 year-old practiced over and over again, and an olive branch in the form of a melon.

We rang the doorbell. An older gentlemen answered the door. He looked at us questioningly and I said, "My boys have something they would like to say to you." He looked at me still puzzled. I explained that we lived behind them. A quick disgusted look crossed his face, but he stood patiently and waited. By this time his wife, Bea, had also come to the door.

The 10 year-old blurts out one anguished, "I'm sorry." I prompt the 4 year-old to state his apology which he did.

"I'm sorry I threw stuff over the fence." He said with a big old smile of joy and anticipation on his face as if to say, "Wow, This is fun! I'm talking to new people...I wonder if they have any candy? Maybe they'll give me some. I wonder if I can go inside their house. Is there something in there I can break or destroy?"

I threw in my own apology and offered the "peace" melon. They did not want to accept it, but I insisted. They could have gotten ugly with us, but they did not. No the only person who got ugly was ME with my boys.

After stern lectures regarding the dangers of launching items from the backyard and the importance of honesty, I grounded them from the backyard. They are only allowed out there if either Mom or Dad is out there too. And guess what? Average highs for us here in sunny and hot Arizona is about 108 farenhot, er, I mean fahrenheit. Guess who's not hanging out in the backyard very much these days?

I do not feel sorry for the boys. We have told them so many times that we feel like we are on auto repeat. "Do not throw anything over the fences." "Never throw cans or food or anything over the fences." "Somebody could get hurt if you throw stuff, so do not do it." "It's a bad choice to throw things over the fences and you will lose something."

They were warned and forewarned and post warned and yet....they are utterly vexing!

This is the type of parent experience that makes you feel smaller than an amoeba. Humiliating? Yes. Embarrassing? Definitely. I've always considered us to be fairly decent neighbors, not perfect, but we try. We really do try to be considerate and nice neighbors.

What an impressive sight from our back windows. A black banana, a busted VCR tape, and egg shine on some of the shingles. Lovely. Thank goodness our neighbors do not seem like they are going to hold anything against our food-n-can throwing savages.

Apparently, my boys think that common consideration and niceness is overrated. Too bad for them, Mommy dearest and Daddy dearest do not subscribe to this point of view.

In the meantime while they are still "learning" this life lesson, it might be best to steer clear of the sidewalk next to our backyard. Our house looks innocent enough, sitting there on the corner, baking in the hot sun. But you just never know when danger (flying food, aluminum cans or even VCR tapes) might be lurking closely by.

The possibility of getting whacked or maimed or losing an eye, does not a chipper person make!

Cut. That's a wrap, people.

If I Had a ..... (NOT a Hammer)!

It's pink and I'm proud of it.

Yes, I am talking about my Nintendo DS Lite. Yes, I am a 40-something year old mother of two boys (ages 10 and 4) and I love my Nintendo DS!

It totally rocks!

I got the DS for Mother's Day and could not wait to purchase the game: Brain Age. What a frightful first experience it was for me to learn that my brain was much much MUCH older than my actual age! I need daily mental training to shave off some of those years.

Sudoku, sudoku, sudoku. I've never met a Sudoku puzzle I didn't like. I love these puzzles and I am terrible....just TERRIBLE....with numbers and math. I am proud to announce that I have been kickin' Sudoku butt!

I am marching forward onto crossword puzzles, Mahjonng, and Clubhouse!!! Clubhouse has card games. Bring it on! Bring it ALL on! Bring on the games!

Heck, they even have a My Spanish Coach or My French Coach to help you learn another language.

I know I must sound like a Nintendo commercial, but I promise you there are no residuals coming my way for this rave review of this wonderful product. The benefits of owning such a product are immeasurable for someone like me.

Lest ye think it strange that an old Mama would be into video games. There is a good reason, a very good reason.

Last year I had some unexpected hospital stays. Oh, how much better and easier these stays might have been, had I had a DS in hand. Perhaps a wee explanation is in order.

You do not know what goes on behind those closed hospital room doors until you are BEHIND one of those doors.

It's spooky. The poking, the prodding, and the no sense of shame, except for the patient, of course.

Let there be no doubt, I absolutely loathe hospitals. Generally speaking, when you have to go and stay, it's usually not for a very pleasant reason. There tends to be a certain amount of pain, discomfort and for me? Embarrassment.

*blushing furiously* "Nurse can you please wipe me?"

I don't think I need to explain exactly where. Do I?

Whoever said or thought that one could heal and recuperate in a hospital has never been in one. They wake you up about every two hours or so to check your vitals, maybe get some blood, or give you some medicine. This goes on 24/7. Oh yeah, that reminds me of the middle of the night stomach shots I got. Whoo-hoo! Those were pleasant times, my friend.

I even had one doctor who had the audacity to tell me that being in the hospital is kind of like being in a hotel room. I tugged on me ear. What? I don't EVER recall being in a hotel room with a needle stuck in me for an IV. I don't EVER recall getting room service and receiving hospital cafeteria food. What a scrumptious delight.

My husband was ever so kind and would bring me magazines or a book. I usually enjoy reading, but for some reason, reading held ZERO appeal to me during my hospital stays. The room had satellite television, so I could get my fill of Lifetime movies if I wanted. Unfortunately, NONE of these wonderful things appealed to me while I was "on vacation."

On the other hand, if I had had a DS, can you imagine the hours of almost uninterrupted pleasure? No kids yelling at each other or, more importantly, at me. No stopping my game to go fix dinner. No stopping to go shopping to buy the ingredients to fix that dinner. No laundry. No picking up kids or dropping off kids. No vacuuming. No dusting. No scrubbing toilets. No trips to McDonald's to fight off the afternoon boredom whinings. Did I mention no LAUNDRY? There could have been a great potential for at least some pleasure and contentment, if I had had a DS in my trembling hands. This would have totally worked for me.

I do not forsee any hospital vacat...uh, I mean visits anytime soon. Can you say relief? I get to enjoy my Nintendo DS Lite in the comforts of my own home, during nap time or the wee hours of the morn. All other hours are taken (see above paragraph).

My Brain Age coach has explained to me that doing the Daily Training and Sudoku puzzles can help activate my prefrontal cortex. "Remember, an active prefrontal cortex is a happy prefrontal cortex."

Nintendo DS Lite is truly the gift that keeps on giving. I love, love, loooooove it! My body may start failing me, but my prefrontal cortex will be ever so "happy"!

Next hospital stay?

I'm almost looking forward to it!