Me Midlife.

rebirth of the blog

2011-03-12T13:03:00.000-08:00

I think it's right to start doing this again. Life with out writing for a writer is, well, stifling. The last time I wrote here was pre-Facebook and even then I was not so comfortable talking about myself all the time. I am not so sure about the social networking thing at this point. I have made peace with Facebook once and for all and have resolved that if I am going to do it, I can't complain about it, or what anyone else does or thinks there. Now that I have made peace, I am not so sure I want to do it at all anymore.

What I loved about writing this blog when I did was the fact that I could put my crazy shit out there, and every once in a while some random stranger would comment and say, "me too!". I can't tell you how good that feels. Especially when you feel like the worst mom/person in the world and it makes you realize that you are not the only one. On Facebook, it seems like it is only okay to post the good stuff, the stuff that makes everyone feel good. Here I feel more free to talk about the difficult stuff.

So, here I am again, 42 1/2. Midlife starts and it sort of sucks. The teenager is now 22 and has moved out of state, really spreading his wings and doing well. I have an empty nest, and as I was way too young to be a mom at 19, I am way to be done with raising children at 42. And 1/2. Life feels confusing right now, to say the least.

winds of change throwing the door wide open

2008-06-11T21:10:00.000-07:00

Geez. Finally. It has been so long, since I don't know when, when I have felt the way have lately, that I am actually transmitting to the outside world. That the noise is quieter. I think it is scaring some people.

I finally am really, really letting him go, and it feels much nicer than the resistence. Who am I talking about? Josh, my son. That crazy SOB...oh wait that would mean I'm a ...well I am sometimes, surely. Yes, that little cherubsweetestlittlething that broke my heart by growing up, damn him! But hey, we survived it. We hung in there, we didn't break up. We've made it to a new place, a place we have both dreamed of, where he lives his life and I live mine. And it works much better this way. I am not him and he is not me. That seems pretty clear now with some perspective.

long photos

2008-04-12T18:22:00.001-07:00

I love love love this idea....

19

2008-04-10T15:13:00.001-07:00

Josh turned 19 last weekend. If it weren't for all the lectures that I continue to deliver, and wish I could stop delivering, we'd be as close as we ever have been. I love his snarky humor. He's smart, astute, intuitive and insightful. I'm proud to know him and be his mom. I raised a good person who even though he feigns apathy, he does care.

And who am I to lecture him anyway. At 19, I was knocked up!

work

2008-04-10T14:21:00.000-07:00

After years and years of work, and with more years to come. I just have come to some conclusions.

There are no shortcuts. We must work, at something. Work-the busy-ness that occupies a good portion of my life and that provides me with what I need to live. That is all it is to me really. It doesn't define who I am at this point in my life, nor does it define a person for me. It is not that important to me what others do for a living, where they spend those hours, who they work with or where their corporate loyalties lie. But I am aware that some people think in exactly the opposite way, and I understand why

To me, it just doesn't matter. All that matters to me is that I am happy with what I need to do every day.

this is 82 talking

2008-04-04T19:29:00.000-07:00

This was the latest inspirational quip from my 82 year old grandmother last night:

"How are you. Granny?"

"I feel so good it scares me."

:-)

i still love pop music

2008-04-04T19:19:00.000-07:00

I do. 6 months from 40 and these lyrics make me want to take a road trip with my girlz and sing them out of the window at the top of my lungs.

"This! love! has taken it's toll. on me! She said good bye...too many times before and her-heart-is breakin' in front of me and I have no choice cuz I won't say good bye anymore. Who=o=o=o."-Maroon 5

I hope it has the same effect when I'm 80. Whoo-hoo!

planning?

2008-03-03T21:59:00.000-08:00

I have never been much of a planner, but right now I suddenly got the urge to make a lunch for tomorrow. A tuna sandwitch. I can't remember the last time I did something like that. Weird.

yes, we can

2008-02-05T20:29:00.000-08:00

My aunt sent me this video today and it made me cry. It makes me feel hopeful, in a desperate way.

4.3cm

2008-01-31T22:32:00.001-08:00

womb with a view

2008-01-30T19:07:00.000-08:00

2 years later...

Uterine fibroids, heard of them? I have them. That is what the ER doc said last friday. He said that was the cause of the pain that sent me careening from work to the ER so I could find out what tiny monster had crawled up inside of me and was stabbing my guts.

Let me just say that I really, really enjoy the pain medication that they give you at the hospital. I mean really. It brought back memories of when I was in labor with Josh and I was sure I could make it through naturally. Ha! They didn't do epidurals where I was, they just drugged you. And my oh my, was it wonderful. Your entire body just instantly goes from the insane chaos of pain, to, well...a very nice place where you know the pain is there, you just don't have to suffer for it. The way life should be really. I realize that pain is your body's way of telling you something is wrong and all, but come on, I had heard enough.

So, yeah. Apparently I have some tumors (benign) on my uterus. Tomorrow I go to the doctor to find out more: their names, who they are rooting for in the SuperBowl, the historical figure they would most like to have dinner with, ect. It should be an interesting party.

middle age=senior years-youth

2006-03-31T22:35:00.000-08:00

My dad tried to convince me recently that I am already in, or quickly approaching middle age. There is just no way that is possible anyway you slice it. And what is middle age anyway? When does it start and when does it end? Well, I came up with this interesting theory while eating at Carrows the other day.

I did some research and it is widely believed that 40 is the age at which middle age begins. However, according to many experts on the subject of fashionable aging (Vogue and Cosmopolitan for example), 40 is the new 30. If this is true then it follows that 50 must be the new 40. Middle age has therefore been moved up 10 years. Are you with me so far? Okay.

Now according to the Carrows menu, another reliable source on the subject of defining age (not unlike the Dennys and Ihop menus), the "Senior" years begin at 55. That is the age at which one is eligible to order from the senior menu and to purchase food at a discounted price suitable for the limited income of the retired. You just can't argue with that.

If we plug this into a formula where Middle Age=Senior Years-Youth, then that means that middle age begins at 50 and ends 5 years later.

Now that, I can accept.

happy chickens only

2005-12-30T17:54:00.000-08:00

I recently had cable installed at the house after several years of not having cable. It was just one more point of contention among the many points of contention that was the minefeild of this house when the Teenager was in residence, so I removed it. I was just plain tired of hearing him make fun of my obsession with The Bachelor.

One thing I have to say about cable tv is thank GOD there are now 300 channels to choose from. Before there were only 200! Finally, some choices for cripes sake.

During one recent binge of channel flipping, I came across one of those videos about the chicken industry that I have heard about but never seen and...oh my god, those poor chickens!

The reason for this post is that I want to officially announce that I can no longer eat chickens unless they are organically fed and raised in freedom. Those are my new chicken rules.

So, I bought a free-range chicken last week and we had a little chat, the dead chicken and I. I thanked her for giving it up so I could have some protien, she said she was totally cool with it because she had a good life on the range, no regrets, and so I gave my new friend a salt scrub and nice olive oil and rosemary massage then put her in the sauna at 350 degrees for 1 hour. Thank you happy chicken.

he's gone, now what

2005-12-07T19:58:00.000-08:00

After a lengthy and thoughtful discussion about our son's lack of motivation to attend school or do anything productive (transcript follows),

Mom: He's not going to school.
Dad: I think it's time he came to live with me.
Mom: Ok.

his father and I decided that it was time the boy became a man. Since a father is much more suited to guiding a boy into manhood than his Dear (constantly nagging and overly protective) Mother who just can't give it a rest already GOD!, Josh has gone to live with his father. He is now fully submerged in an ocean of testosterone, as he well should be. He is surrounded by Real Men who play poker, hunt, fish, build things, barbeque steaks, watch football on Sundays, only clean the house when it smells bad, and change the motor oil in their cars themselves.

And it is going swimmingly! My son has an NFL team that he follows (Colts), knows how to play Texas Hold 'em, has learned the art of using scented candles to avoid cleaning the house, eats plenty of protien, and has cut 3 inches off of his hair. I don't know exactly how the hair cutting was accomplished, something about his Dad building a chicken coop for this feller Joe in exchange for convincing Josh to cut his hair. Joe has also offered him a car, drivers training course fees, and $200 spending money for cutting off the rest of it, but Josh refuses.

He also gets right up and goes to school every morning without a problem and is doing all of his homework. And he cleans his room without being told. I swear to God that is what he said.

So now what is it that I am supposed to do with all that nervous nurturing energy that is no longer needed? It is a mighty akward feeling and I am not sure what to do with it. Any suggestions internet?

wasted youth

2005-11-14T13:13:00.000-08:00

A teenager killed his girlfriend's parents over and argument about her cerfew.

More evidence, when they say they know what they are doing and to leave them alone, NEVER take thier word for it. They know not what they do. Keep a watchful, compassionate eye on them. Talk to them.

And make sure they don't have access to loaded weapons when discussing cerfews.

separation anxiety

2005-11-08T11:54:00.000-08:00

I've been thinking about having another baby and of course all my friends who have just started having kids and are in the years of high maintenance can't belive I would think such a thing now that I am almost done.

One friend said, "Do you really want to do all that little kid stuff again? And the diapers? Ugh! I can't wait till she can make her self a bowl of ceareal in the morning and turn on cartoons so I can sleep in for once!"

If I've learned anything about human nature by being a parent (ok, and by being the child of my poor tortured parents), it's that people only really understand what they have experienced themselves and unsolicited wisdom you attempt to impart on others falls on deaf ears 83% of the time. So as to not offend the new Mom, I keep my yap shut and I don't say THIS IS THE FUN PART YOU IDIOT! YOUR ARE HAVING FUN!

What really gives me pause is the fact that if I had another child, I would have to go through the teenage years again. Oh, my GOD. Mothers of small children, do you understand what happens in the end? You give them everything they need (well, the stuff you know about anyway), run around like a crazy person for thier entire lives and then guess what? They leave...taking your bloody aching heart that they have ripped from the same body from where they came with them.

This is what I realized this weekend that caused 3 days of uncontollable sobbing. I feel that I have painfully entered into the hardest stage and most crucial part of all stages of parenting ....Letting Go.

claim to fame

2005-10-10T20:50:00.000-07:00

During a visit to Josh's doctor this evening, a 16 year old's least favorite topic, The Future, was the focus of the usual warm-up discussion between Josh and the doctor. The doctor does not think that testing out of high school is a good idea. He tells him that if he wants to be serious about something that he must get a proper education so that he can compete in this world. He was so eloquent and right in his speech. Josh was nodding in a manner that could be interpreted as understanding. He really seemed to be getting through to Josh. My six-foot son with long blond hair to his shoulders sat there in his Metalica shirt and looked sincerly earnest. Bouyed by the feeling that he was helping, the good doctor went on (he was on a roll...no, really, it was good). Afterwards, I delicately suggested to Josh that we grab some dinner out, the family signal that we were going to discuss something, and he accepted. Visions of college applications danced in my head.

Later after we had ordered and settled in, I got down to business.

"So, what do you think about what Dr. Brennan said"

"He's not a believer."

"Huh?"

"I am going to be famous."

He looks at me directly in the eye when he says it and I don't identify a lick of doubt in him.

"The name of my first album is going to be 'To All the Non-believers'"

*sigh*

OK, OK, I believe, I believe.

Now just get thyself an education JUST IN CASE thou dost not bode well with the Gods of Rock. I pray thee my son for thine mother and thine father planeth not to endow thee with great riches.

fire and wood

2005-09-19T23:17:00.000-07:00

My Teen Wolf is showing real signs of manhood in many subtle ways. This weekend on a camping trip with friends he lead the boys of the clan, all four of them younger than him by no more than a year, in what must have been an ritual of tribes past. They made bowls from only wood and fire by placing hot wood coals from the fire on a block of driftwood and letting the coals char the wood to the point that it could be scraped away to form a bowl in the wood. It was a full moon and they stayed up until the wee hours finishing their task. From a distance all that could be seen was the glowing embers of each bowl brightening at random intervals as they each blew on their coals to speed the burning process. While most of the "bowls" looked more like just a piece of charred wood, Josh's bowl was perfect. It was a sweet moment of revalation for me.

roadtrip, dude

2005-08-16T12:46:00.000-07:00

By the end of this week, my son will have road-tripped to Northern California to Ozfest with 4 friends and one mom, toured a submarine in San Francisco with his Grandfather, taken a big city subway for the first time, and completed a 6 1/2 hour Amtrack ride home. While I can't WAIT to hear the details, I only expect single-sylabic responses to my hundreds of annoying questions.

The calm at home is almost uncomfortable. When he is gone I always get these momentary flashes of panic because I think I have lost him somehow. When he was still little enough in to be in a car seat and I would look in my rear view mirror to check on him, I would have momentary panics when he wasn't in it. In a span of .5 seconds I would think I left him at the grocery store, panic, then realize he was actually with my Mom.

I have caught myself looking in the rearview mirror a couple of times this week.

The worry, it NEVER ends, Mothers of the Internet!

He lives!

2005-07-23T22:18:00.000-07:00

He called me back!

Josh has been on an urban edventure (hey, that was a typo but I think it's pretty accurate!) the last few days. This means we got in a fight and he is not answering my cell phone calls or telling me where he is, exactly. I've been pinging his world for signs of life and HE called ME, and I didn't ask him to! Of course it was because he needed something (a ride) but I get a chance to hold a mirror up to his mouth and make sure he is BREATHING.

I hope he's STARVING when he get's home. I shall feed him.

high school dot com

2005-07-22T16:27:00.000-07:00

Last year during Fifteen, I enrolled Josh in a self-paced alternative high school where he could do his schoolwork on his home computer on a schedule convenient to him, "even at 4 in the morning!" said the teacher. Internet high school! Hell yeah! This was Josh's dream come true, and frankly, mine too. I thought to myself, this is exactly what he wants! It will make a man out of him yet! He will work hard to keep up because he knows this is better than real high school! Everyone will finally see how brilliant he is! Maybe he will finish high school in one semester! He will graduate from college by the age of 17, start an internet company, sell it, and retire at 22! I'll be done early! Wee-hoo! Sign us up, yo!

Obviously, this was too good to be true and of course something very different actually happened. According to the schedule convienent to him, he would only do schoolwork for two hours per day and was provided a hell of a lot of free time to do whatever he wanted to. The moment I set him up with is first very-own internet connection on his computer so he could "sync" his completed schoolwork through the internet, he promptly started downloading what seemed like everything. This occupied most of his waking hours for the following 3 months, including the two hours each day he was supposed to be spending on school.

I know....DUH.

Oh, I tried to stop it, don't even start, but he had me by the mom-balls because the internet connection was for school and the teacher said he could do it AT 4 IN THE MORNING. What? Wait, no, that's not...stop downloading...all WHAT base?...how much Biology have you done...Did you sync? DID YOU SYNC??!!!

You see, 15 year old boys think that they have it all under control when they actually haven't got a clue what they are doing. They get their first taste of the real power of free will-the Fuck You I'm Not Your Bitch variety-and that is when all bloody hell breaks loose. Parenting this is seriously like hearding cats. Seriously. One fine day I think I have talked some sense into him and feel that we have really communicated. I shake his hand, because I'm not really allowed to hug and kiss anymore, pat him on the back lock eyes with him, woman to man, and say, "Good night, son. I'm glad we understand each other." The next morning, his bed is empty, the curtains are fluttering and I get a call from the home of a nice family in China who he met on the streets of Hong Kong where he ended up after stowing away in the suitcase of a local manufacturing executive whose home he broke into to check out his DVD collection and he asks, "Hey Mom, can you pick me up?"

After too many knock-down drag out fights about school that end with me wanting way too much to knock his hormonaly charged lights out after he drags me down to a teary-wet, bloody-kneed (from begging him to DO HIS FUCKING WORK) heap of single motherhood, I finally just left him alone like he wanted me to. Let freedom ring. Ding-dong.

For the last month or so of the internet high school semester, I let him do whatever he wanted to and hoped for the best. I even replaced nutritios snacks and meals (that he never ate anyway) with Easy Mac, Top Ramen, and Hot Pockets bought in bulk from Costco. Boy, we really bonded on that Costco trip, I wish I had taken pictures. During the downtime between file sharing application switches to outwit the Downloading Stuff from the Internet Police, he discovered the video game Dance Dance Revolution, got addicted and more or less dropped out of internet high school to play this game 24/7. He got really good at DDR and even made occasional outings to play the life-sized version at the movie theater. There was talk of DDR contests. He hooked up with like-minded DDR-playing friends. One of my son's greatest strengths, and most dibilitating weakness at once, is that he totally does his own thing. His friends thought DDR was "gay" and needless to say did not have the level of interest in the game that he did. So, he simply went out and made some new friends who were into it. They came over and ate all the Hot Pockets and watched episodes of anime from the internet.

Josh never earned any credits that semester and became one full semester behind in high school. He is back in regular high school hustling to catch up. No mater how insane he is, I won't give up the hope that he walks across the stage on graduation day and belts out, "I DID IT MY WAY, WOMAN! HA!"

When you can't be the mom and the dad, you just have to be the Parent that stands by to cheer the little bugger on, despite the failures, until he figures things out for himself, or starts listening to what you have to say again. When Josh was potty training and I was anxious about the timing of it all I was reminded by someone wiser than me that you don't see many 10 year olds still walking around in diapers now, do you? You get the point. And at least he's not in diapers anymore and that is a HUGE relief.

skittles

2005-07-21T12:43:00.000-07:00

I once flushed my sons skittles down the toilet as a punishment for him not cleaning his room.

I know.

I did the best I could.

Now when we eat skittles, we laugh about it.

leave me alone, I'll be fine

2005-07-21T12:42:00.000-07:00

"If you leave me alone, I'll be fine."

Trust me, I wish this were true. In fact, it is the ultimate goal. I dream of the day I take off the life-training wheels to see him all on his own, glancing over his shoulder at me with an expression of pride and amazement at once that says, "HOLY SHIT I'M DOING THIS BY MYSELF!" And he is cruising, just cruuuuising along....until of course he runs into a life-tree or something equally hard and learns that no matter how bad-ass you are, you are not indestructible. If you take your eyes off the road too long, something will inevitably come out of the blue and stop you cold. Be prepared to deal. He is not yet prepared to deal. I must prepare him.

payback is a bitch

2005-07-20T12:03:00.000-07:00

I swear, I can't remember what I was thinking when I was a rebellious teenager. I wish I could, it sure would come in handy right about now that I am parenting a rebellious 16 year-old, alone, at the tender age of 36 I might add. I can't remember what made me do all the rebellious things I did, other than someone telling me not to. So why can't I be more understanding when my 16 year old son tells me that it's my fault that he doesn't get up to go to school, my fault he stopped doing his homework in 8th grade and subsequently my fault that he is a zillion units off track from graduating from high school? I tell him that he is full of shit and that he better get his ass in gear, or else.

I want to be the young, cool mom who is, like, so in touch with her teenager because it was only yesterday that she was a teenager herself. Instead I am a screaming, writhing witch bellowing expletives at my son on the way to school in the morning. I am the crazy single mother in the neighborhood who is honking and screaming, "Stop this bullshit and get in the fucking car!" at 7:30 am . It is drama all the time these days.

It's the God's awful truth that payback is indeed, a bitch.

hormones

2005-07-15T16:31:00.000-07:00

I don't understand teenagers. Really. I have read several books about them. I have been one. I talk to them as often as I can. They are simply insane. That's all there is too it.

Gotta love em.