If Moms had Blogs

My blog began as a way to vent. I never thought that others would actually read it, but wanted to thank those of you who have read it and left comments. It's nice to hear from others who've been through it and encouraging to know your adult children made it through okay.

Lately, I've been discovering all types of blogs written by women through links like Blog Village, Blogging Chicks, Women Bloggers, etc. and have noticed how many other "mom" blogs there are out there! Most are moms with babies and younger children or pre-teens -- those that find motherhood crazy and joyful at the same time. Where are all the mothers of teens?

I have to wonder if like me, they've found motherhood no longer fun? Or are they too busy with their own drama to even find time to write it down? It used to be natural to compare notes with other parents, but I find myself ashamed of all that's happened to us this past year or so. It's not something I want to share with others outside of this blog or immediate family. Kids dabbling in drugs, being expelled from school or seeing a psychologist for mood disorders are not everyday topics you chat about in the office or grocery store.

What about mothers of 20-somethings? Is it possible that now that their kids are (hopefully) safely out of the nest, they no longer need to define themselves by motherhood alone, as they did for so many years?

= any situation or series of events having vivid, emotional, conflicting, or striking interest or results (dictionary.com)

Part I - Junior Year (Sept. '05 - April '06)

1. girl smokes pot
2. grades go down
3. family counseling (girl referred to psychologist for depression/ADD)
4. girl cuts classes and a day or two of school
5. detentions (misses them)
6. suspended one day (parents find out after the fact)
7. still waiting for that psychologist appointment
8. drug search at her high school
9. along with others, girl is arrested & calls mom crying to come pick her up
10. mom drives 50 minutes from work and arrives at police station, can't stop shaking
11. she can't pick girl up or get any details, because her 17th birthday was 3 weeks ago and she is considered an adult
12. police will bring girl to court that day, mom can pick her up after arraignment
13. suspended from school for one week, awaiting expulsion hearing
14. first psychologist appointment
15. police report shows two baggies found in girl's car - one with two seeds; one with a twig testing positive for marijuana
16. because she is 17, hers is the only name listed in all the local papers
17. hearing result: expelled from school for rest of junior year
18. will not be able to attend any public school in the state
19. will not be able to earn credit from any evening school or tutoring
20. may be admitted back in September with monthly clean drug tests, drug counseling, and no more trouble with the law
21. 2nd psychologist appointment
22. parents meet with a lawyer, appeal the decision, and await another hearing
23. 2nd hearing result: same
24. court sentencing date - she is on pre-trial probation - same requirements as school
25. psychologist refers girl for further testing of ADD - Educational Evaluation
26. girl not in school, so parent's must pay for $500 evaluation not covered by insurance
27. because she is 17, difficult to get an appointment - she's not a child, not an adult
28. drug counseling begins; girl's symptoms qualify her for an ADD study that includes 16 weeks of cognitive behavior therapy, full ADD evaluation, and medication or placebo
29. Relieved to have found help -- hoping this is the turning point

This concludes the wallowing portion of today's blog

- it's the first time I've "said" it all out loud

My co-worker is a gusher. Mostly a terrific person, she's always full of stories of her delightful little boys, their antics and "children say the darndest things" kind of one-liners. She's so in love with them that it's embarrassing at times to listen to the details she divulges. It's almost unbearable to hear her imitate their toddler voices and lengthy pauses to share their latest cutesy take on life. I cringe for her as I read the body language of her office audience.

We all have children, we all think they are adorable (before they turn 15 - wink), and we all like to talk about them now and then -- it's the human experience. But so enamored of motherhood is she that she can't recognize the fact that she works with an office full of other mothers with children younger and even more adorable than hers.

It doesn't stop her from offering all types of expert advice from breastfeeding to picking out a daycare. When insert boy's name was insert common parenting dilemma, I did blank is how many monologues start when someone else happens to mention their child's recent cute moment. She does it with such an air of confidence, it's hard to believe she doesn't have her own talk show or at the very least, an advice column in Parent's Magazine. She really believes she has the answers, and I really wish she did too.

Only two of us are on the other end of motherhood -- teens and beyond. I came crashing down off my motherhood high a few years ago, and the other mom has just sent her second and last son off to college. She still rides an emotional see-saw every day with one of them. We know for fairly certain that there will be a day when our co-worker will be struck with the harsh truth -- what you put in to them is not always what you get out. Like young celebrities gushing about their forever romance in People magazine only to break-up a short time later, those words will haunt her one day. Her fall from the motherhood pedestal is destined to be even more painful than mine.

Wouldn't you know that now that I've published my Mom Blog that my little drama girl has had two good weeks? As her Mom, I am ecstatic -- life has been somewhat calm and peaceful. As a blogger, there's no drama to report, and I'm actually keeping my fingers crossed that it lasts awhile.

I was one of those Moms who NEVER thought the things that had happened this past year or so would happen to MY child -- never. I raised her right. I only worked part-time, taught her manners, spent hours taking her to libraries, plays, zoos, and play-dates. I was on the PTO and even volunteered in the school library each week to do storytime for first and second graders, and then helped all her friends take their accelerated reader tests. I was pretty sure that not only would she grow up smart and beautiful, but it would be smooth sailing into adulthood.

When other kids got into trouble, sometimes they were kids that I already knew had an uphill climb from the time they were young. Sometimes it was a kid from what people used to call "good families" -- the ones with money or good local contacts and high profiles. It must've been overindulgence that caused them to stray -- too much time on their hands, too many things given to them for nothing. I admit that I was judgemental sometimes. I just assumed it had to be something the parents did or didn't do -- not completely their fault of course, but they must've slipped up somewhere. Those things happened to other kids, not mine.

Well, I can tell you that you NEVER know how it is going to turn out. I used to think it was a tried and true formula -- put in so much love and dedication and they will turn out just the way they should.

Is there anyone else out there who used to believe that or believes it now?

I'm not referring to every person who has given birth, but to those parents who lovingly await the arrival of their child(ren). Don't we all start off wanting the best for our child? Don't we hope to be the best parents ever or at least not repeat the mistakes we believe our parents made?

When my daughter was small, I loved being a mom. I even thought I was pretty good at it. I'd heard that the teen years could be rough, but I braced myself and knew I'd get through it. I understood the teen rebellion, the need to carve out a place of your own in the world and separate from your parents, and of letting her become her own person. For the first couple of years I did okay -- I let the "I hate you's" roll off my back as part of normal tween development. I used firm discipline when she fell off the tracks of respectable behavior, trying to "teach" her the lessons of life in a nurturing way.

As an early childhood professional, I've always believed that the first three years of life are developmentally important. This is when children learn values, behavior, the basics of life. I always believed in this poem...

"Children Learn what they Live"

If a child lives with criticism,
He learns to condemn.

If a child lives with hostility,
He learns to fight.

If a child lives with ridicule,
He learns to feel shy.

If a child lives with shame,
He learns to feel guilty.

BUT

If a child lives with tolerance,
He learns to be patient.

If a child lives with encouragement,
He learns confidence.

If a child lives with praise,
He learns to appreciate.

If a child lives with fairness,
He learns justice.

If a child lives with security,
He learns to have faith.

If a child lives with approval,
He learns to like himself.

If a child lives with acceptance and friendship,
He learns to find love in the world.


Now I don't believe it all. Having showed my daughter respect somehow taught her that she deserves respect, but can treat others poorly -- friends and family. She actually does almost the exact opposite of everything we've tried to show or do for her. She thinks she deserves all the good, but has not learned to give it back yet.

What about those children who grow up in terrible circumstances and are caring, compassionate, and go on to do such great things? If this poem were true, that wouldn't be possible. I think it is important to do the best you can do, but don't beat yourself up (like I did at first) when your child takes a different path than you planned.

In family counseling, a counselor once told me that she is her own person with her own personality and probably will not change much as an adult, and I can't really do anything to change that reality. It was at that point I mourned the loss of my daughter or the memory of who she was when she was young. It took a long time to accept her as she is and to forget who she used to be. When I finally let go of that and stopped waiting for her to "come back", things got easier.
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When I was young I used to say that I never wanted kids – ever. I never wanted to have a child who would hate me as much as I felt I hated my Mother.

But of course, you fall in love, get married, have a baby. Marriage ends -- you and baby are together forever. In the early years it is the physical pain – being sliced open and having to heal, never sleeping, never even having time to shower, having to leave the house and sit in a parking lot up the street reading a magazine just to have an hour to yourself without always “doing” for another. The diapers, the baths, the feeding, and holding their hands while they learn to walk. Time is never yours again. Luckily you get paid back in sweet smiles and chubby hands holding yours. Kisses and I love you’s and giggles that make you melt.

As they get older, there are the bake sales and PTO’s, play dates, birthday parties, softball practice, dance classes at the Y, and again it’s all about them and doing for them. Still there are the nights of storytelling and snuggling together on the couch to watch Disney movies as your payback, so it never really seems like work.

Twelve approaches and it’s all about friends and sleepovers and gaggles of girls who are loud and messy, eat you out of house and home. They argue with each other, hurt each other’s feelings, betray each other and you feel each blow to your heart as if it was done to you, not your daughter who is always upset, crying, hurting.

Time keeps passing, now it’s trying to keep them safer than they would keep themselves – curfews, rules, groundings when bad choices are made. Groundings that make you share the house 24 hours a day with someone who is angry with you and is moody and prone to outbursts. They are bored and want to watch tv with you or talk to you because you are the only choice. So, you let them change the channel just to spend time with them. It would easier to let them go and do what they want, but you are doing it for their own good, not your own. More activities to pay for and drive to and watch – cheerleading, field hockey – driving them and their friends everywhere. Again, you put yourself and your life aside for your child.

Then comes the scary stuff – stealing from friends and family – clothes, money, electronic gadgets; shoplifting at the stores for fun, climbing out the bedroom window and driving with friends while parents sleep, drinking, smoking pot, other drugs hopefully not, but you never know. More groundings, privileges taken away. More emotional stuff – romantic relationships, drama, hearts being broken – again you feel it too.

The year of the car and work. Grades are going down, time management becomes an even bigger issue. Friends and fun fill up more and more time. You try to help by contacting teachers, arranging tutors, changing curfews. It doesn’t matter – friends come first. Smoking cigarettes, smoking pot, drinking, skipping school, being suspended – all new things that remind you that 17 years in and your life is still all about them and trying to keep them safe against their will. Arrested. You couldn’t protect them and they got caught, but maybe it will be the turning point. Reality. Consequences. Maybe it will turn things around. Time out of work to pick her up at the local jail, court dates, expulsion hearings. You’re still putting in all the time and effort, but it doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

She tells you she only lives here because of her friends. If not, she would be 2 hours away with her Dad because you’re too hard to live with – you don’t trust her. You pretty much ruin her life. It’s too much to ask that she realize how hard this has been for you as well, how much you are trying to help her, how much good you want for her life, but it’s out of your control. It hurts that after all these years, all the time, the energy, the physical and emotional pain, all she wants to do is be away from you. I guess that’s what adulthood is about – wanting to live your own life. It’s perfectly normal, and believe me parents look forward to that day as much as you do, but why do the actual words when spoken hurt so much?

When I was a teenager (1970's) and got in a fight with my Mom, said something inappropriate -- I was backhanded and sent to my room and usually grounded. No television watching, no phone calls, no music.

"You just sit there and think about what you've done", she'd say. And I would. I'd lie on my bed like a good girl trying to be as repentant as I could, hoping she would notice my good behavior and reward me with a short sentence. Nope. I was out of sight and out of mind and spent many days and weeks grounded this way.

To my friends I just dropped off the planet. They'd call and hear I was grounded and couldn't talk to them, so they would stop calling. My mother was wise -- she rarely grounded me during the school year -- only in the summer. There was one entire summer that I lived life sitting by my open window listening to the sounds of others having fun -- neighborhood parties, kids splashing in the pool, convertibles driving by blasting the radio.

Fast forward a few years to my "baby" brother becoming a teen. At almost 6 feet tall, he'd get sent to his room and use a different tactic. He'd explode with anger. He would kick the walls, bang on his door, throw things -- my mother would come running up the stairs screaming obscenitites and then, "You stop banging my doors and damaging my house -- get the hell out -- RIGHT NOW." Off he'd go, practically skipping.

Was that all it would've taken? I learned, like many others, that it sucks being the first-born! You are the test run, the one who absorbs all the parental energy. Baby brother was smart -- he could see that things weren't working for me and changed it up a bit. The parents were tired, broken down, and he pretty much got away with murder. We laugh about it now -- how stupid I was to obey so blindly, but it was a lonely and depressing time being a teenager.

When my own teen daughter found web sites like Live Journal and My Space and started to vent her own teen angst, I was actually glad she had an outlet. She could post every insignificant happening of her day and what a b*tch her Mom was and she'd have posts from a dozen "friends" trying to console her. When she was angry and wanted to explode or depressed with no hope, I didn't have to worry she'd be so distraught as to want to end her life (as I had often done at her age). I could hear her banging away at keyboard in the next room and know that she had someone to talk to about it, someone to hear her pain.

When she broke our rules and had to deal with punishment, off she'd storm to pound out her side of the story, adding in exaggerated details and eliciting sympathy from cyber buddies for her terrible life. If they only knew, I'd think. It's so easy to create an online persona. You take a few edgy photos of yourself-- if you are chubby you just snap a pic off your blue eyes. Bad skin? Tilt your head and let those bangs fall over half your face. Purse your lips and make that rock and roll hand sign -- squish all your friends faces together, laugh and show what a good time you're having.

What if Moms like me had blogs? A place to go and vent about my daughter's evil behavior and how it sucks the life out of me every day as I try to be a good parent? Why can't I have a forum to spout about the days she screams how much she hates me and that I'm a f***ing b*tch that is trying to ruin her life? Well I can, and here it is.