Ethan These Days

The last in my insanely long series....  :)

Ethan is our Action Man.  But I seriously think I need to change his blog name to Sleeping Man.  When Ethan turned 13, the dynamics of our home and family took on a whole new charism.

For example.  It seems we now own a humongous St. Bernard.  Ethan shot up like nobody's business these last 6 months and is almost as tall as I am.  With his new height and long limbs comes the interesting feat of having them all constantly under control.  Alas, our new yearling behaves much like a bull in a china shop.  All brawn, no brains.  We will hear various thumps and bumps, and all of us run expecting to see some maimed corpse at the bottom of the stairs, only to find.... yes, it was Ethan, and yes, he fell.... but it was... up the stairs.

:P

The sleep patterns.  Oy, the sleeping patterns.  How they have changed. We now have a nighttime wanderer.  I'll be half-asleep, dying to get into bed, schlepping around getting drinks of water or blankies or whatever, and suddenly a beam of light hits me full in the face.  Just when I think the aliens have come for sure, Ethan's scratchy voice assails me with some hair-brained idea for fixing the whachermacallit and he's off, bounding to the garage, headlamp sending bouncing beams of light everywhere.  He's like his own disco ball and dance partner, rolled into one.

He eats. Does he ever eat! Actually the question should be... does he ever stop eating?   I restrict snacks with the other kids, but not him.  He is constantly hungry.  Period.  I've given up trying to "solve" the hunger problem. I just tell him to go find something to munch on.  And he does.  Pickles, bananas, peanut butter, eggs... it doesn't matter, he'll try anything.  I'm just happy if we can make it an hour between binges. And, as long as he doesn't eat up the dinner I'm hoping to serve that evening, I'm thrilled.

:P

This is the child that tears at my heart the most.  What can I expect? He is the oldest.

Every time I turn around, he is breaking new ground.  There was one particular incident that occurred right around the time Little Dude was born.  Suffice it to say that liberties were taken and trust was broken.  I was devastated.  Yes, probably overreacting, but it broke my heart. Ethan was penitent. Extremely so.  The result was that our relationship has never been the same.  In fact, it has grown exponentially.  Surprising?  Yes.  And I would not have a re-do for all the world over.

 

There is an understanding and a softening of his eyes when I look at him during one of our (many) "trying" moments.  He seems to suddenly remember "that time" my trust was wounded and wanting... and instantly he backs off. He seems to know that having Mom on his side is more important than being "right" and, wanting to preserve the relationship, he acquieces to whatever maddening demand I am making on his time.  He has grown up quite a bit.

Ethan has weathered a few other storms recently.  He played baseball this past spring. I was strangely quiet about that on this blog. We'll just say that he learned a lot.  He learned that even adults do and say ridiculous things. That some people never quite grow up and will forever have a chip on their shoulder.  He also learned that most of the language one hears in a dugout filled with teenagers is not for the ears of siblings, as he deftly would persuade his sisters to sit at the other end of the bleachers during games, and could I please make sure they didn't hang around when he was out on the field? He never complained, was never made fun of, was never cast out... he just dealt with it.  I was very proud of him for that.

And I was very glad that his Dad was there with him, every step of the way.

I still worry.  This is my oldest.  He has so much more ground to cover, so many more goals to reach.  I wonder if he will succeed.  Have we taught him enough? Does he understand how cold and cruel life can be?  Is he ready to venture out?  Yes, I worry a lot.

His first step out comes this fall.  He will go to school, and I will not cry.

But I will be a stronghold for him.

Because, you see, I've got his back.

I know that he knows that.

And I think that will make all the difference in the world.

Noah These Days

Yes, I am still plowing through this series.  It has taken me quite a bit longer than I had hoped.  By the time I'm finished, I'll have to start all over again, since Little Dude will surely be walking or heading off to college.

:P

Noah is our Sports Fan.  He has always been drawn to sports, particularly sports heroes.  He was the first to be attracted to super heroes as well. His first super hero-love was Buzz Lightyear.  We joke that one time during mass, DH picked up our two year old mop of blonde curls and he raised one arm over his head and lifted one knee in perfect Buzz imitation.  Made me giggle uncontrollably. How cute that he thought his Papa could lift him to "infinity and beyond."

Noah is at a tough spot right now, I won't deny that.  At the age of 11, he is on the cusp of those teen years.  He's caught dead in the middle between still wanting me to snug with him, and then holding me at arm's length, his blue eyes sharp and unyielding. He nurses a constant chip on his shoulder, sarcasm being his defense mechanism.  It's difficult sometimes to peel back the layer that he has built up, to penetrate the wall.  Lately, DH and I have made the extra effort to "collect" this child.  And our diligence is paying off.  He is eager to remain in the fold of our family, but constantly tests our hearts. And that's not a bad thing, either. It reminds me of my priorities as a mom.  That I cannot push my children to the side, no matter what deadline or last-minute interruption has sprung up.  This young man keeps me in check. Although I still have a lot to learn.

Noah plays soccer in our city league.  He's on a team of mostly new kids.  He is also one of 3 non-Spanish speaking kids.  I watched him during his first practice, his arms folded, only half-kicking the ball, eyes bored.  His coach was yelling instructions in Spanish, and Noah turned away, frustrated. I watched the coach. He's an outstanding coach.  After practice, Noah and I had a chat.  He wasn't quitting. (but, oh! How easy my schedule would be if he did! :P) He was going to milk this for all he could.  This coach knows what he's doing, I told him. If he could stick it out, and go 110% at every practice, his game would skyrocket, I could guarantee it. Noah's eyes lit up.  He has been giving it his best shot, and yesterday at his game, I saw him deek around the other team's forwards, jumping over cleats and sending the ball to his own front line.  A little rough aorund the edges, but it's there, I thought.  Good.

He is the older brother I go to when I need help with Little Dude.  Noah is a natural when it comes to caring and nurturing the others.  He sees with a provider's eye, and steps in when I need him to.  Of course, he's not always as gracious as I'd like him to be... we're working on that.  Mostly, though he sees the need and delivers.

I am proud of this young man.  He has grown so much.

If I can only keep him close while encouraging him to explore new horizons.


:)

Fatherly Advice: Good Sportsmanship Edition

Sports Fan plays goalie for his 12 and under soccer team.  Since he just turned 11, he's not exactly the largest kid on the team.  Yet, he shows a spunkiness in goal that can only be admired....


(during a break in quarters)  
DH(dear husband): Sports Fan, remember that goal you saved?  The one where the kid slide-tackled you just as you got the ball?

SF: Yeah!  That was cool, huh?

DH:  Definitely!  But that was kind of a dirty play on his part.

SF: Oh.... (eyes lighting up) So, should I have punched him or something?

DH: No!  No, no.  But.... if when you're getting up with the ball... and your elbow happens to dig into his ribs there? ....  I'm pretty sure that would be an accident.



:P

Filed Under.... In Your Wildest Dreams, Buddy

With all the birthday celebrations around here, Action Man decided he wanted in on it, if only in a sort of "planning for the future" kind of way....

So, the good news is, there is only one thing on his birthday wish list for November.


The bad news?

... it's an iPod Touch.


Permission granted to laugh uproariously.

:P

It's A...

B oisterous, (kicking his Mama constantly....)

O ver-joyed, (his siblings, are, anyway...)

Y oungin'. (exactly 5 months!)



We are very excited!!

:)

Parenting An *Almost* Teenager

I'd like to make myself believe... that planet earth turns slowly.

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake

When I'm asleep...

...'cause everything is never as it seems....*

Action Man will be 13 in November of this year.  A few years ago, when contemplating the up and coming dreaded teen years, I vowed that I would not expect my boy to become a horrifying force of confusion and angst in our happy homeschooling home.  Surely, I thought to myself, there were ways and methods to guarantee that he, and I, and everyone in the home, would make the transition smoothly... with nary a ripple in the fabric of our days.

HA.

Much to my surprise... Action Man has decided that he WILL be growing up... rapidly and with many ripples.  Tidal waves, actually.

And this shift will take place overnight.

Suddenly, Sports Fan has found that his constant companion is moody and distant.  He needs "time to himself" because he is "growing up"  (these explanations provided by Sports Fan include an over-emphasis of the quotation marks, along with vigorous eye-rolling)

My own response has been varied.  While the storms rage and the frustrations mount, I have oscillated between understanding and indignation.  I understand that Action Man needs his space, that Sports Fan is developing an uncanny ability to push. just. the. right. buttons... and that Little Boo has upped the ante of annoyance to beyond bearable.

However.

I also point out that we are still a family unit.  That we still must get along sohelpme.... And that this is our path to heaven.  Together.  Like it or not. And respect? goes a long long way, my son.

I'm learning a few things, too.  Things that I have observed from other parents... parents I trust and respect, especially my parents, in remembering my own tulmultuous teenage years and how well they handled everything I threw at them. And I threw a lot at them.

1. Teenagers still need guidance.  They need to be "checked on."  Both my boys are starting the whole "lying" thing again.  But it's more subtle now.  Not as easy to "catch."  It's a pain to run upstairs and see if they really *did* clean their room, but I do it.  Make them wait downstairs, poised on their bikes, ready to take off with their friends... and haul their butts back up if, in fact, the vacuuming has not been finished like they said it was.  They need to know that there will be consequences for these fibs.  And a little guilt every now and then doesn't hurt.  Just a little, mind you, or else it loses it's effect.

2.  Teenagers need to be respected. They need a listening ear.  As the little ones multiply and clamor for attention, it becomes almost impossible to provide the setting for those all-important conversations about hockey, or clothes, or friendships, or music. Many golden opportunities can be overlooked in the midst of a hectic day.  Action Man almost always comes back downstairs after the "good-nights" have been said.  He parks himself on the couch and chats it up with us.  DH is much more tolerant of this time.  I try to grin, but groan inwardly... and sometimes not so inwardly.  Something I need to work on.

3.  Teenagers need privileges.  Action Man got an mp3 player for his 12th birthday.  He has an e-mail account.  He is allowed to cross the "big" street on his bike and go visit his friends.  We grant him leeway with watching "extra" shows on Netflix... (ok, so it's Liberty's Kids... who can say no to that?!?) 
He may not seem that much older than his 10 year old brother, but at this stage, the difference between them is a chasm.  And they both feel it.  Sports Fan may not like it, but his turn is coming.  The key is to preserve that relationship as best as we can until he catches up. 

4.  We need to enjoy what our teenagers enjoy without attaching moral importance to every single solitary thing.  I know I will ruffle some feathers here. But there are some hills not worth dying on.
Action Man has the advantage of having a hip, cool Auntie who lives with us and makes him awesome cd's of the music he enjoys.  So, we have heard Miley Cyrus, and Justin Bieber and who knows what else... ad nauseam in our living room during clean up... and other random times.  Do I like this music?  Not really. Are these kids people I want my kids to idolize? Um... no.  But we do not have posters up nor do we watch tv shows where they are featured.  We simply enjoy their talent.  Together.
Oh, and we mimic their hairstyle.  Erm... that would be Justin Bieber's, not Miley's.  :P
And yes, it drives me crazy that Action Man's hair hangs in his face and curls around his ears and generally looks like he just rolled out of bed... but I know that it's temporary.  He has already made some noise about it getting too hot... not a coincidence that I am allowing this as we approach 100+ temps... I can be a pretty smart mama, you know.

;)

It's a tightrope walk, this balance between being there and letting go.

Between guiding and trusting. 

But there is a lot to enjoy and marvel at along the way. Because, if nothing else, teenagers are notorious for their wide open eyes and big plans.  They are on the verge of taking on the world.

I'd like to make myself believe... that planet earth turns slowly.

It's hard to say that I'd rather stay awake

When I'm asleep...

Because my dreams are bursting at the seams.*

:)


*Lyrics brought to you by one of Action Man's favorite bands... Owl City. And this Mama must admit they're growing on her, too. :)

Forever

He comes to me, pajama-clad, the swagger of a ten-year-old on top of the world... gone.  His lower lip quivers as he asks if he can have a chat with me.

Warm from my recent bath and ready to call it a night, I invite him into my room and listen as he relays his fears.

Heaven.  He whispers.  It's... forever?

I nod.

And wait.

His mind falters, and his words convey the awe and hopelessness of such a concept.

I can't imagine being in one place for so long.  Where there's... nothing else. Nothing more.  That's it.

And his eyes widen in fear.

I smile to myself.  How many times have I approached my own father throughout the years, paralyzed by such a concept.  Unable to wrap my mortal mind around the approaching infinity.  Unwilling to believe that joy could be associated with such an end.

I gather him into my arms.

Our life here, I whisper into his mop of blond, what do you think of it?  Would you like things always to be this way?  With you, and Mom and Dad... living in this house... together.  Would you like that to last forever?

His tender heart of 10 glows and his eyes sparkle as he looks up at me and nods emphatically.

So, I continue, think of Heaven as this.  As our life together here... but forever.  Everything you love, surrounding you...  and you... continuously happy and filled with unimaginable joy.  No more tears, scrapes or falls.  Only happiness.

He sighs and settles into my arms.

But then he stiffens...  We just need to make it there.

And that, I say firmly, is what we will do... together.

So we sit, rocking back and forth, a tangle of ten-year old arms, sweet boy-hair and a melting Mama-heart.

And I can't help but think... forever isn't nearly long enough.

Mirror Image

He pushes past the table, making straight for the couch and flops down. His jet black hair falls in front of his eyes as he automatically brushes it aside. Braces set his smile afire and words tumble out, relaying in detail his latest conquests on the hockey rink.

Who is this monstrous boy, this young man with ripped jeans and hazel eyes? With freckles and that crescent scar on his left hand? With ear buds hanging out of his pocket and scapular hanging out of his shirt? This boy turning man...

"His Father's Son" it has been proclaimed of him.

But I know better. I am the Mama. And I see.

I see the anger and pain behind his eyes as he struggles to make his thoughts understood. When the injustices pile up and there is no one to lash out at. When he feels the strength of the world on his shoulders, and also the burden. When he is the conqueror and the conquered.

My man-boy has a protective side that I haven't seen in a very long time. But now that his Mama is down, is whimpering in the corner, feeling helpless as her body supports a new life... my boy has become a young man. Imperfectly, slowly, and somewhat awkwardly, he is rising to meet his birthright as the oldest in this growing family. Somehow, he feels the weight and importance now as never before.

Exhorting his siblings, stepping up to the task, assisting his dad, asking if I'm feeling ok...

And last night, as I looked deep into his eyes ~a mirror of my own~ he told me..

Aw, I love you too, Mom.


:)

Boy Sense

Checking on Action Man's math progress, I opened the door to his room...

Action Man: Quick! Close the door!

Me: Huh? Why?

Action Man: It reeks of... of... bug spray out there!!

The culprit?

Lil' Sis's perfume.

:P

A Mama's Heart

You remember this young man? The kid down the street in our old neighborhood with 8 million toys and dogs?

Well, once we moved a few city blocks over, it was understandable that we have pretty much lost touch.

I say "pretty much" because the boys did invite him over a few times, and he had accepted and come over for a few afternoons and dinners. It was good to see him again, and notice that although they all have grown a bit, the kids still got along great.

Lately, though, Action Man's phone calls have gone unreturned, and my Mama instinct figured that that friendship has been decidedly ended. After all, the kiddo is now in Junior High. Little Love's antics probably weren't that much of a draw... (and yet the antics of young-ins are exactly what a moody teenager needs... I know from experience!)

And then, news about our young friend came to my reluctant Mama ears. Turns out his family has moved. The mom and boys are staying with her parents, while the dad is living elsewhere.

And our oh-so-young friend? Was seen in an alley with an older boy presumably doing drugs.

My Mama heart just broke.

This kid had promise. Although... DH and I always suspected something about this family, but never could put our finger on it. I was always looking for clues or signs, since the relationships just seemed "off." Not seeing anything concrete, I decided to just "be there" for this kid, in any way I could. He would chat with me about his family and extended family, but there was never any hint of anything awry.

He was a troublemaker at school, I was told by a teacher I happen to know. She was astonished I let my kids play with him. I told her there were boundaries, and the play was always at our home... but there hadn't been a remote peep of anything inappropriate, ever. In fact, the letter he wrote to our kids when we moved was amazing. He exhorted Action Man to take care of his "beautiful family" and he told the boys they were his "best friends ever."

This could have ended differently. I know it's not over, but this whole path could have been avoided. I'm angry and saddened. I'm not sure exactly who I am angry with, but the sadness is overwhelming.

This young man had promise.

I pray that he finds hope and peace... and comes to know the depth and the love of a Mama's heart.

You Can See This One Coming A Mile Away...

We are big Tom Sawyer fans. Action Man and Sports Fan both started out with the Illustrated Classics version, and then graduated on to the real deal. I love the utter boyishness of these books, and even found delightfully old copies of Tom Sawyer Abroad and Tom Sawyer Detective. Action Man enjoyed both of these immensely.

As a result, there have been many Tom Sawyer-ish shennanigans with my boys, although luckily none as hair-raising as those poor Aunt Polly had to deal with.

Imagine my embarrassed cringing, however, when our beloved pediatrician asked Little Love this question at her 4 (almost 5) year check up:

Dr: Now, I know you don't smoke, right?

Little Love: Nope!

Dr: Does anyone in your house smoke?

Little Love: Yes! Action Man does!

Dr: (confused.. looking at me) Really?

Me: No, no...

Little Boo: Yes he does, Mama! In the backyard! He lights his cigars...

Me: (wanting to muzzle Little Boo) Well... it's a homemade one... and he just pretends.... Tom Sawyer, you know?


And luckily, she does know, and understands, and CPS is not out to get me.

*sigh*


:)

Uh Oh

4 more days of formal schooling left, and my 11 year old voracious reader has just found and opened up a copy of The Fellowship of the Ring.

His ambition is to finish it so that when his vacation starts he can sit up at night with Mom and Dad and watch the movie.

I think I'm going to need to call in some reinforcements if I have any hope of doing Math today.

:)


We just finished watching the trilogy, but I'm game for another go 'round. Who wouldn't be?

Star Wars = Grammar Excellence

When learning the difference between natural and inverted sentences, Action Man summed it up:

Inverted sentences are like talking the way Yoda would.


Go you now... Star Wars movies must you watch.

:)

Overreact Much?

Just heard from DH that the remaining hockey practices and games are canceled for the season.

Apparently, the boys are not sufficiently protected against that awful pad-ripping, face-mask yanking, helmet-destroying disease known as the Swine Flu. Oh! Excuse me, I meant H1N1.

I mean, for heaven's sakes, the lads cannot even reach their mouths to drink their gatorade during the game unless they have a 3 foot long straw and can somehow take their mouth guards out without choking on them. They wear so much padding, I think we could drop them from the top of the rec center and they would bounce!

Swine Flu?

You gotta be kidding me.


Do you know what I really think?

I think they're all just scared of ME.


:)

Advice

When your 11 year old, first thing in the morning...

discovers a small continent of fruit flies (who have pretty much established their own constitution and trade laws by now)

living off of a bag of no-longer-frozen corn that has been sitting

in the bottom of his tackle box since last month (!!!!!)

And said 11 year old asks you to "Come Here QUICK!" ?


Go back to bed.

Trust me.

It's going to be that kind of day.


:P


Um... And throw out the tackle box.

Hockey Moms ARE Pit Bulls!

I am living proof.

My boys had a game this morning. The first of two, playing on a team of misfits, against boys who have been playing together for years.

And they were doing very well... even ahead at one point.

Sports Fan was in goal. He is probably the smallest and scrawniest child on the team, but also one of the best. Why his coach wants him to wear 20 tons of equipment and flop around in front of the net is beyond me, but there he was, flopping like a pro.

Then it happened. Not once, not twice, but three and four times... my awesome goalie-son had his glove hand covering the ball, and some belligerent 10year old is whacking Sports Fan's glove with his stick. The first few times, our bleacher section was encouraging Sports Fan to hang tough.

The fourth time? (As Action Man started pushing the brat away from his brother...)

I was on my feet.

"Hey, Ref! Get that #1 OUTTA THERE!"

Mortified, I promptly sat back down. Did I just yell at the Referee? Luckily, all the other rabid hockey moms took up my war cry and demanded that the kid be benched. He wasn't... and he scored on Sports Fan, but then was totally robbed a few plays later as my little man flattened him on a break-away.

~insert evil cackle here~

I am Nutmeg. A rabid Hockey Mom.

And I wear Lipstick.

:)

What Happens When.....

Both of your older brothers play hockey?



















Yeah.




















You have the *privilege* of being the goalie.


:)


This post part of the April Shower of Photos being hosted here.

The Decorating Committee...

... Has been temporarily overthrown.















We are putting out an APB for the likes of Superman and Batman to corral their miscreant colleagues and remind them of their civic duties towards beauty and order.


Further bulletins as events warrant.


:)

Aging Gracefully

Sports Fan (reading his science): You know that time when all the continents were stuck together? When it was called Pangea?

Me: Yes.

Sports Fan: You were alive, right?



:)

Volunteering?

Surveying the scene of the mad scrubbing of the baseboards by Little's Love and Boo, in preparation for their school Christmas Party tonight:

Action Man: You know, those walls could really use a new coat of paint.



:)