Conversations with an adolescent

This week was a bad week in my house.  As a result, groundation ensued. Groundation is hard on both the one who gets grounded and the one who does the grounding.  Essentially, I grounded myself.  All in all, we both deserved it.  The teenager in question deserved it because he was mouthy and rude, said bad words, generally acted jerky and got crappy grades.  I deserved it too.  I was mouthy and rude right back, said bad words and generally over-reacted.  Not that I would admit that to my son.  I was definately not the model of decorum nor a good role model for my child.  For now, I'm going to blame it on my hormones and stress. 

So, after the estrogen hurricane and the testosterone tornados blew over, Matthew and I talked.  Well, I talked and he sort of listened (in between thoughts of "I hate my mother").  He is passive aggressive to the extreme so he can really be challenging.  I talked and he laid in bead quietly.  The next morning we tried again.  We came up with goals, rewards and consequences.  We wrote them down.  He was quiet and generally compliant.  He stayed that way for several hours.  We packed up and headed out to ski.  He read his book for English class all the way to EVL.  Very quiet.  He did his homework in the chalet while the other kids hung out.  I finally let him out to snowboard.  I wasn't going to originally but part of me realized that he needs a physical outlet as much as I do, maybe even more.  So he snowboarded, hard.  On the way home, in the dark, with his sister asleep in the backseat, we talked.  Both of us.  He is smart.  He gets it.  I am starting to.  I am glad I changed my mind and let him snowboard tonight.  It went against the groundation rules but it did open some communication for us.  Besides, he had to turn down a skating party, an opportunity to go to free skate at the town rink and a sleepover this weekend.  And he is technically still grounded and has no phone until further notice, so I guess a little work-release was ok.  For both of us.

Teenage Dreams

I am the owner of a teenager.  This is not an easy job.  It is like riding a roller coaster without a safety belt.  Scary, thrilling and somewhat nauseating.  The teenager in question is a tall, lanky, moody child.  Teenage-dom did not create this.  He has always been tall, lanky and moody.  Even at birth.  But now he is this way on an even larger scale.  With the added bonus of testosterone.  Conversations with my child are like watching a tennis match on speed. At the end of the match, one has whip-lash from how quickly the tone changes.  One minute he wants to hug me and says "I love you mommy" and then next, he is stomping off somewhere yelling "I hate you.  You ruined my life".  All because he feels his immediate needs are not being met to his satisfaction.  He did this when he was two, only back then, I could put him in the time-out chair.  Time out at this age involves much more creativity.  To make it all more complicated, I am parenting essentially on my own.  My ex and I have not spoken in over a year, and before that, any communication from him was simply a dissertation on my faults and alleged poor parenting.  Anyway, as a single mom of a boy whose father is abusive, I am faced with many challenges.  I have no one standing behind me backing me up or insisting that he respect his mother and behave.  I have to insist.  I have to follow through.  I have to be both parents at once. 

My son has many good qualities.  He can be sweet.  He is smart.  He has beautiful eyes.  He has an amazing sense of humor.  He can snowboard with incredible grace.  But, he has my stubborness and my Italian temper.  He has his father's ability to lie, tease others cruelly and be amazingly lazy.  He has my lips and my freckles.  He has his father's height, high metabolism and lanky body.  He and  I both love comedies, especially anything that has Chevy Chase, Steve Martin or Bill Murray.  His father and him share a love of video games and sports.  Loving him is not easy, but it's not hard either.  Especially when he is sleeping. 

I am not sure how I am going to navigate these waters.  These are stormy times.  I can only hope that the testosterone storm winds down before the estrogen storm begins.  Because I also have a daughter who has less than 3 years to teenage-dom.  And her estrogen will be gearing up just as mine is winding down.  But that is a story for another day.

Welcome

I have never seen myself as a writer.  In fact, I have always thought that I suffer from chronic writer's block.  However, I have always wanted to write.  Just put my thoughts down on paper, not really tell a story, just put my thoughts into print.  As a teacher, I am most insecure about teaching writing.  It feels hypocritical to me.  I don't write and feel I can't write, but I demand that my students write.  I should take my own advice.  Anyway, I took a writing course.  And then another.  And today, a third.  Same instructor, same approach to teaching writing.  And for the first time, when she asked us to write, I wrote without hesitation.  Just a paragraph, but I wanted to continue.  And so I have decided to find a way to put my thoughts in print.  Random thoughts.  Thoughts from a single mom.  Thoughts from a teacher, a sister, a friend, a lover, an aunt.  Parts of my day that stuck with me.  So here goes.  Wish me luck.