I often feel as though I am sitting in the middle of a human tornado, body parts flying, noises emitting from every possible surface in the house and a constant hum in my ears that tells me it may be time to hop in the car and get the hell out. More often than not though, I don't do that, because by the time I get back to the house, more chaos has ensued and, secretly, although I will never verbally confirm this, I really enjoy the chaos.
The boys and Tim think I'm in a bad mood and while that may be true some of the time, most of the time, I am internally relishing the arguments, the wrestling, the beach ball making its way through mid air toward the television. I love the smell of pasta cooking and fresh laundry on my bed, even if the pug is rolling around in it, having just emerged from the shower soaking wet. I anticipate the sounds of the kids getting into the car after school and the few minutes that I get them alone without the intrusion of electronics on their brains, when we can actually have a conversation on the way home. I swear, Jake is getting a permanent hunch in his shoulders from staring into his cell phone for long periods of time. But I'm told, this is the new "hunchback" of the electronic generation: Iphones, Ipads, Ipods, I need to read a damn book every once in awhile.
I knew it was coming; I used to teach high school so I knew it, but I still wasn't ready for it. I have a full blown teenage boy in the house. Attitude, "swag," lack of interest that isn't anything "girlfriend, soccer or friend" related, again, I knew it was coming, but it has not been what I expected. Jake is a good hearted and kind boy and I see that in him still, but what I don't like, what I abhor to tell you the God's honest truth is the constant verbal sparring in which he engages me on a daily basis. And the interesting thing is, it doesn't matter WHAT we are discussing, there are moments when he disagrees with me just so he can. Even when his argument is riddled with inconsistencies or is just downright incoherent; he will hold to that argument as if it were a liferaft and he was one word away from drowning. Then again, he'd probably rather drown than admit that he was mistaken. The other funny thing is, sometimes I think he just doesn't realize the stupidity of what he is trying to say; I say trying only because often, it makes no sense. That isn't easy for me to write because Jake is extremely verbal and very bright. He uses vocabulary in a meaningful way in appropriate contexts more often than I would expect a 16 year old to do. However, what doesn't fit is his inability to comprehend the other side of the argument. He just argues his point and flat out disagrees with me, no matter what I say, how I say it or how loud I scream at him while wagging my finger in his face. He doesn't comprehend it because he chooses NOT to and while deep down I realize that this confrontation stage is the beginning of his major PULL toward the independence that he is convinced he will have at 18, I also realize that it is the beginning of the end of my journey of parenting him. And, frankly, it saddens me. I know that I will always be his mother, but the relationship has and will continue to change and, as hard as it is, I cannot fight that, for his sake. I have been the most important female figure in his life and on some level, I'm sure that he will see me as a semblance of that person who once "knew" what the hell she was talking about, but, more than that, I have to accept that that role is limited in scope and that now, soon, in the future, someone will usurp my role. I know that and on some level, I do accept that. I guess what I will have a difficult time with, is letting go of the fact that I won't be the person that Jake comes to when he needs something; that is a role that I have enjoyed. He trusts me and I believe, despite his snarky remarks, that he trusts my judgment, but, let's face it, he is still my son and I am still his mother and that in and of itself leads to conflict. Parenting a budding man, well, physically anyway, emotionally and psychologically he's still 3... sorry Jake, is not easy, but I cannot begin to compare it to the emotional roller coaster that I would be experiencing if there were a teenage girl in the house.
Having grown up with my brothers, Rich and Steve, I was well prepared for what was in store for having teenage boys in the house, but the relationship is clearly different. Having to discipline a teenage boy for not following the rules is very different than drinking beers as a teenager with your dopey brothers. What I have a hard time with is how Jake will turn to the "men" in his life often, now, before he comes to me. I understand it and it makes sense, but, I don't like it. It hurts on a level that only a woman, a mother can understand. He is my little boy and deep down, he is the same as he was when he was on all fours, ten months old, crawling all over the floor, laughing, drooling, looking to me for guidance and more laughter. Maybe we are supposed to have our children when we are young because as we grow and mature, we find it more difficult to let go and start over. I think about a few years from now when I am in my GASP fifties and the kind of transition that will begin to take place as the kids move toward their own lives, their own homes, careers, potential spouses and I suddenly can't breathe. I can't remember those days of holding Jake in my arms and dressing him for Halloween and waving to him as he ran off to baseball practice. Suddenly I've become obsolete. I lay in bed at night thinking these thoughts and they make me very sad sometimes. But you know, I think it is a good thing. Parenting is not all roses and lollipops. It is painful and hard, brutally honest and heartbreaking; parenting is putting all of your love and hope and dreams into these little people who grow as they will, forming their own opinions, having their own experiences and that moment, that one second that you know is coming, when you have to unclasp your hand, reminds you that parenting really isn't forever. They will always be our children, but they will not always need us as parents. As they change, so does the relationship. I am learning to accept that. Maybe by the time Ty is 18, I will have conquered these mixed emotions. But for now, I will look forward to Jake's hugs and his telling me goodnight, I will look forward to Nick still asking me to "tuck him in" and I will cherish the fleeting moments that I have left when Ty lets me put my arms around him and kiss his cheeks. But I know that the day is coming when he will wipe those kisses away...
I can honestly say that if I knew then what I know now, that I would never have opted not to have children. Yeah, it's easy to say that now, because I love them and all that, but what I mean is, if I had any idea what kind of daily challenges were in store for me, the love, the tears, the boredom, the chaos, I DEFINITELY would have had 2 or 3 more. Now if you'll excuse me, I hear the sound of dissent in the bedroom...
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