Having only been in two committed relationships throughout my life, I don't have much experience with break-up songs. I did play an Etta James CD to death as I wrestled with leaving my first husband but I don't think that really counts.
If there ever were such a thing as an "empty-nest song" (and I think there should be as there's a lot about it that feels like a break-up), this would be mine.
Much thanks to Ms. Prufrock for introducing me to the amazing Ben Harper's talents.
Showing posts with label Boy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Boy. Show all posts
Sunday, August 24, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
The Votes Are In...
...and it seems we have a 3-way tie. Angel, Mr. Mister and Harvey all got 5 votes. Not quite what I expected but there you have it. Since Angel was Boy's choice it seems only right to go with that (he was dreading Mr. Mister).
That being said, Angel is ensconced at school and I am...still here.
That being said, Angel is ensconced at school and I am...still here.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Name That Boy
***update: Reasons and rationales for the current name choices:
Angel - Boy's suggestion and I have no idea.
Drama - A monikor boy has used previously
LOL - Something I came up with in the moment in an attempt to annoy/embarrass Boy
Mr. Mister - What we called Boy when he was a baby and his real name didn't fit yet.
Harvey - The invisible rabbit.
[Thanks K8]
Last week Boy was in my room as I was blogging about our beach trip. Now Boy has known about my blog from the start and does not mind me blogging about him or, as it turns out, including a photo or two. (BTW blue milk has an excellent post on blogging your children) However it seems that he does mind his monikor. Unbeknownst to him, I had been thinking "Boy" really wouldn't fit once he was in college.
We brainstormed a few alternatives but did not reach a consensus. So I've included a poll on the sidebar with some of the choices. I'll leave it up until his departure day (August 20th for those of you keeping track) and then announce the winner. Please vote your choice. I'm also open to suggestions if you have any.
Angel - Boy's suggestion and I have no idea.
Drama - A monikor boy has used previously
LOL - Something I came up with in the moment in an attempt to annoy/embarrass Boy
Mr. Mister - What we called Boy when he was a baby and his real name didn't fit yet.
Harvey - The invisible rabbit.
[Thanks K8]
Last week Boy was in my room as I was blogging about our beach trip. Now Boy has known about my blog from the start and does not mind me blogging about him or, as it turns out, including a photo or two. (BTW blue milk has an excellent post on blogging your children) However it seems that he does mind his monikor. Unbeknownst to him, I had been thinking "Boy" really wouldn't fit once he was in college.
We brainstormed a few alternatives but did not reach a consensus. So I've included a poll on the sidebar with some of the choices. I'll leave it up until his departure day (August 20th for those of you keeping track) and then announce the winner. Please vote your choice. I'm also open to suggestions if you have any.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
The Beach
Boy and I have taken many beach vacations together. We've done The Hamptons, Cape Cod, The Outer Banks, Puerto Rico, and Cape Town, South Africa, to name a few. We usually go for a week. This time we hit a new beach and condensed the entire itinerary into two days. I'll recap the highlights.
Driving Out
Boy is an amazing travel companion, in part because he is so incredibly laid-back and agreeable--not something I ever would have imagined having survived toddler hood with him. I woke him at the crack of dawn (well 6:30, which is pretty close to the crack of dawn to a teenager) and he was up, dressed and in the car in a flash. He loves stand-up comedy so we listened first to his current favorite and then one of our old stand-bys. We stopped only briefly to eat egg sandwiches.
Arriving
We arrived at our destination just as the sky had opened up. It seemed we were in for a day of intermittent thunderstorms. Our room was large and comfy with a nice flat screen TV over what became Boy's bed.
Of course it was now time for lunch so we were off to "town," or the strip of street that served as a town, in search of food. We found it, in all it's fried glory. Lunch was quickly followed by a trip to the supermarket for all the extras Boy usually requires--in the form of Doritos, Chessman cookies, milk and beer (Guinness for Mom, of course).
Beaching I
Bathing suits and sunscreen on, beer in cooler, books, Ipods and hotel towels in hand, we finally made our way to the beach.
[Boy decided his tanning oil makes him glisten and strikes a pose.]
Luckily the hotel was right on the beach so it was a short walk.
Sun bathing--me reading and he listening to music--was interrupted by occasional sun showers but overall it was lovely and relaxing. When we finally made it into the water, it was perfect bath temperature and we played in the waves.
Fine Dining
We located the snootiest restaurant on the island and made a quick reservation. Boy was dressed in his newest look and I in my long flowing beach dress. The food was good (I made him taste some of the Gorgonzola cheese from my dressing just to see the look on his face) but not great; the ambiance comfortable but not casual; and the service impeccable. We decided to forgo dessert.
Miniature Golf
Yes we worked off our day of eating with a rousing game of miniature golf. I not only got TWO holes-in-one (one of which occurred in front of an entire family who was kind enough to let us play through) but for the first time EVER, won the game. (Ok, so only by 2 points and Boy was exhausted from only 2 hours sleep the night before, but still).
Sunset
Although the sun was setting on the sound side,
we headed over to the ocean and walked the shore, sharing the day and remembering other beach stories.
Beaching II
The next day Boy slept in while I headed over to the ocean. It was no longer overcast and already getting quite warm. I brought my trusty book--a totally junky true-crime--my Ipod (I like to listen to opera on the beach) and a truly bad cup of hotel room decaf coffee (because that is how much of a junkie I really am-and I drank the whole thing) and spent two beautiful quiet hours by myself.
Breakfast
When my stomach could no longer stand it, I made my way back to the hotel room to rouse Boy. Luckily the Hotel had an amazing late check-out policy and we could stay until 4 pm. So the plan was breakfast and then back to the beach. After several failed attempts we finally located a breakfast joint and devoured pancakes, bacon and grits (him) and a country omelet and grits (me). Stuffed to the gills we waddled out and back to the beach.
Beaching III
By the time we got there it was HOT....burning soles of your feet hot...can't let your legs slide off the towel hot...on the beach. I quickly buried my nose back in my trashy book while Boy first tried to read then went back to the hotel room for his Ipod then finally said he was going down by the water. I grunted affirmation from between the pages. Several chapters later I was beyond hot and decided to go down to the water and find him. It was crowded and he was no where in sight.
Now he's 18...has traveled out of the country on his own...is bigger and stronger than I am...is responsible and knows how to swim, but me? I go through a silent panic like he's 3 years old and lost in an amusement park. For about 15 minutes I'm walking up and down and in and out of the water trying to scan every tall skinny young white male who even faintly resembles my son.
He, of course, had taken a long walk in the opposite direction. I guess that mother worry never leaves you. I (wisely) neglected to tell him of my panic. Instead I suggested a dip in the ocean, which was much rougher than the day before, and we played and swam until our eyes burned from the salt and sand was deposited in our suits. We said good bye to the beach and headed back for showers and packing up.
Aquarium
Boy and I love aquariums, which is odd because we both hate museums. When he was little I used to take him with me on trips to conferences. Visiting an aquarium, if there was one, was always our first choice. So on the drive towards the beach we had noticed there was one near-by and decided to make a quick stop before we headed home.
I'm a big fan of turtles and there were plenty.
We also saw sharks and jellyfish and alligators and other scary sea creatures.
Boy has watched a lot of late night Discovery shows on fish and the sea, so he was much better informed than I and was able to enlighten me on many fishy aspects. He also has picked up the habit of reading the signs (I'm much more likely to go up to the glass, stare at the fish and make things up). When not discussing the more scientific aspects of sea life we were comparing which ones we like to eat.
It was a small aquarium so we were quickly on our way.
Drive Back
The minute we hit the open road the skies open on us with a torrential downpour. Unfortunately I'm driving at this time (I hate driving in the rain). Also unfortunate for me, Boy had ordered Dominos back at the hotel and is not hungry but I have not eaten since our mammoth breakfast. We drive for an hour, with the rain abating, and when I can stand it no longer we head into a store to buy sandwiches. Of course the minute we pull into the parking lot the sky reopens and we get drenched running the few feet from car to store. We shop in the frigid air conditioning with our wet shirts plastered to us and our hair dripping down our faces. The sandwiches take forever to arrive and are barely edible.
Boy drives us the rest of the way home and plays me his favorite music. I recognize none of it but like it and consider myself lucky, once again, to have him as a son.
Driving Out
Boy is an amazing travel companion, in part because he is so incredibly laid-back and agreeable--not something I ever would have imagined having survived toddler hood with him. I woke him at the crack of dawn (well 6:30, which is pretty close to the crack of dawn to a teenager) and he was up, dressed and in the car in a flash. He loves stand-up comedy so we listened first to his current favorite and then one of our old stand-bys. We stopped only briefly to eat egg sandwiches.
Arriving
We arrived at our destination just as the sky had opened up. It seemed we were in for a day of intermittent thunderstorms. Our room was large and comfy with a nice flat screen TV over what became Boy's bed.
Of course it was now time for lunch so we were off to "town," or the strip of street that served as a town, in search of food. We found it, in all it's fried glory. Lunch was quickly followed by a trip to the supermarket for all the extras Boy usually requires--in the form of Doritos, Chessman cookies, milk and beer (Guinness for Mom, of course).
Beaching I
Bathing suits and sunscreen on, beer in cooler, books, Ipods and hotel towels in hand, we finally made our way to the beach.
[Boy decided his tanning oil makes him glisten and strikes a pose.]
Luckily the hotel was right on the beach so it was a short walk.
Sun bathing--me reading and he listening to music--was interrupted by occasional sun showers but overall it was lovely and relaxing. When we finally made it into the water, it was perfect bath temperature and we played in the waves.
Fine Dining
We located the snootiest restaurant on the island and made a quick reservation. Boy was dressed in his newest look and I in my long flowing beach dress. The food was good (I made him taste some of the Gorgonzola cheese from my dressing just to see the look on his face) but not great; the ambiance comfortable but not casual; and the service impeccable. We decided to forgo dessert.
Miniature Golf
Yes we worked off our day of eating with a rousing game of miniature golf. I not only got TWO holes-in-one (one of which occurred in front of an entire family who was kind enough to let us play through) but for the first time EVER, won the game. (Ok, so only by 2 points and Boy was exhausted from only 2 hours sleep the night before, but still).
Sunset
Although the sun was setting on the sound side,
we headed over to the ocean and walked the shore, sharing the day and remembering other beach stories.
Beaching II
The next day Boy slept in while I headed over to the ocean. It was no longer overcast and already getting quite warm. I brought my trusty book--a totally junky true-crime--my Ipod (I like to listen to opera on the beach) and a truly bad cup of hotel room decaf coffee (because that is how much of a junkie I really am-and I drank the whole thing) and spent two beautiful quiet hours by myself.
Breakfast
When my stomach could no longer stand it, I made my way back to the hotel room to rouse Boy. Luckily the Hotel had an amazing late check-out policy and we could stay until 4 pm. So the plan was breakfast and then back to the beach. After several failed attempts we finally located a breakfast joint and devoured pancakes, bacon and grits (him) and a country omelet and grits (me). Stuffed to the gills we waddled out and back to the beach.
Beaching III
By the time we got there it was HOT....burning soles of your feet hot...can't let your legs slide off the towel hot...on the beach. I quickly buried my nose back in my trashy book while Boy first tried to read then went back to the hotel room for his Ipod then finally said he was going down by the water. I grunted affirmation from between the pages. Several chapters later I was beyond hot and decided to go down to the water and find him. It was crowded and he was no where in sight.
Now he's 18...has traveled out of the country on his own...is bigger and stronger than I am...is responsible and knows how to swim, but me? I go through a silent panic like he's 3 years old and lost in an amusement park. For about 15 minutes I'm walking up and down and in and out of the water trying to scan every tall skinny young white male who even faintly resembles my son.
He, of course, had taken a long walk in the opposite direction. I guess that mother worry never leaves you. I (wisely) neglected to tell him of my panic. Instead I suggested a dip in the ocean, which was much rougher than the day before, and we played and swam until our eyes burned from the salt and sand was deposited in our suits. We said good bye to the beach and headed back for showers and packing up.
Aquarium
Boy and I love aquariums, which is odd because we both hate museums. When he was little I used to take him with me on trips to conferences. Visiting an aquarium, if there was one, was always our first choice. So on the drive towards the beach we had noticed there was one near-by and decided to make a quick stop before we headed home.
I'm a big fan of turtles and there were plenty.
We also saw sharks and jellyfish and alligators and other scary sea creatures.
Boy has watched a lot of late night Discovery shows on fish and the sea, so he was much better informed than I and was able to enlighten me on many fishy aspects. He also has picked up the habit of reading the signs (I'm much more likely to go up to the glass, stare at the fish and make things up). When not discussing the more scientific aspects of sea life we were comparing which ones we like to eat.
It was a small aquarium so we were quickly on our way.
Drive Back
The minute we hit the open road the skies open on us with a torrential downpour. Unfortunately I'm driving at this time (I hate driving in the rain). Also unfortunate for me, Boy had ordered Dominos back at the hotel and is not hungry but I have not eaten since our mammoth breakfast. We drive for an hour, with the rain abating, and when I can stand it no longer we head into a store to buy sandwiches. Of course the minute we pull into the parking lot the sky reopens and we get drenched running the few feet from car to store. We shop in the frigid air conditioning with our wet shirts plastered to us and our hair dripping down our faces. The sandwiches take forever to arrive and are barely edible.
Boy drives us the rest of the way home and plays me his favorite music. I recognize none of it but like it and consider myself lucky, once again, to have him as a son.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
On Love
I've been reading Insane Mama's and Tentcamper's story of how they met and fell in love. [BTW I'm a total story-whore and these two do stories right. They not only include cliffhangers but often each tell their version of the same story, something I love. Now if only one of their 6 children would start a blog, they could have a whole Rashoman thing going--but I digress). I've also been missing my love, b, and (as you well know) preparing to miss Boy, who I love too much to be good for either of us. So I've been thinking a lot about love.
Now let me get all academic on you and start off with a definition and some references. I started studying love at an early age. I think I was 12 or 13 when I first read The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. I enjoyed it and learned a bit but couldn't completely comprehend the topic at that point in my life. Later I read bell hook's All About Love. In search for an understanding of love, she felt it important to find a suitable definition and she found it in M. Scott Peck's book, A Road Less Traveled (which is similar to Erich Fromm's definition - proving we end up in the same place no matter where we start). According to Peck, love is "the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth." hooks goes on to discuss the importance of not confusing affection and/or cathexis (investment of feeling and emotion in another) with love. Instead she claims "to truly love we must learn to mix various ingredients--care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, and trust, as well as honest and open communication."
Now I grew up in a family that is probably far too normal in its dysfunction but I was not deprived of affection. I certainly felt that I loved my family. And as I grew, I felt I loved a few very close friends and then I thought I had fallen madly in love with my soul-mate, my ex-husband. (There was a ton of cathexis going on in that relationship.) But it was when Boy showed up that I learned how to love--as defined by Peck and hooks. Now I know all new mothers have their world's rocked by the birth of their child and their entry into the role of motherhood. However, for those of us who have never loved before it is both beautiful and upsetting. For me it was scary and overwhelming and I had no idea what to do with it. So I did what I always do, read and studied and researched the phenomenon while I was living it until I could name it and know it as true for me.
Unfortunately learning to truly love makes you look at your other relationships and realize--no not so much. And so began my long long long road to divorce. Post divorce I met b. Now learning to love through Boy did not teach me how to be loved. The child-parent relationship is inherently an imbalance of power and children need to love their parents. So I could accept his love but not learn from it. b taught me how to be loved, which is ironic since for the first year of our relationship he was beating himself up over his inability to love me. But, as hooks points out, love is actions and b's actions have always been loving.
I think I realized I was in love with him on our first vacation together. During a walk on a beach the beginnings of poem got stuck in my head. When we headed back to the car I asked for a few minutes to jot them down in my notebook and explained that I often thought of poems but never seemed to have the space in my life to actually write them. b just looked at me and said "we'll have to make that space." It was a moment I'm sure he doesn't remember but up until that point I had always felt it was my job to make space for others and find my space in what was leftover. It never occurred to me that someone else would help me make my own space.
So b will be home on Monday and next month Boy will be off to college. Together we'll give Boy the space he needs to leave and we'll re-create our own space as a couple. It is the cathexis that makes love both exquisite and painful but it is the "will to nurture one's own and another's spiritual growth" that makes it endure.
Who taught you how to love? to be loved?
Now let me get all academic on you and start off with a definition and some references. I started studying love at an early age. I think I was 12 or 13 when I first read The Art of Loving by Erich Fromm. I enjoyed it and learned a bit but couldn't completely comprehend the topic at that point in my life. Later I read bell hook's All About Love. In search for an understanding of love, she felt it important to find a suitable definition and she found it in M. Scott Peck's book, A Road Less Traveled (which is similar to Erich Fromm's definition - proving we end up in the same place no matter where we start). According to Peck, love is "the will to extend one's self for the purpose of nurturing one's own or another's spiritual growth." hooks goes on to discuss the importance of not confusing affection and/or cathexis (investment of feeling and emotion in another) with love. Instead she claims "to truly love we must learn to mix various ingredients--care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, and trust, as well as honest and open communication."
Now I grew up in a family that is probably far too normal in its dysfunction but I was not deprived of affection. I certainly felt that I loved my family. And as I grew, I felt I loved a few very close friends and then I thought I had fallen madly in love with my soul-mate, my ex-husband. (There was a ton of cathexis going on in that relationship.) But it was when Boy showed up that I learned how to love--as defined by Peck and hooks. Now I know all new mothers have their world's rocked by the birth of their child and their entry into the role of motherhood. However, for those of us who have never loved before it is both beautiful and upsetting. For me it was scary and overwhelming and I had no idea what to do with it. So I did what I always do, read and studied and researched the phenomenon while I was living it until I could name it and know it as true for me.
Unfortunately learning to truly love makes you look at your other relationships and realize--no not so much. And so began my long long long road to divorce. Post divorce I met b. Now learning to love through Boy did not teach me how to be loved. The child-parent relationship is inherently an imbalance of power and children need to love their parents. So I could accept his love but not learn from it. b taught me how to be loved, which is ironic since for the first year of our relationship he was beating himself up over his inability to love me. But, as hooks points out, love is actions and b's actions have always been loving.
I think I realized I was in love with him on our first vacation together. During a walk on a beach the beginnings of poem got stuck in my head. When we headed back to the car I asked for a few minutes to jot them down in my notebook and explained that I often thought of poems but never seemed to have the space in my life to actually write them. b just looked at me and said "we'll have to make that space." It was a moment I'm sure he doesn't remember but up until that point I had always felt it was my job to make space for others and find my space in what was leftover. It never occurred to me that someone else would help me make my own space.
So b will be home on Monday and next month Boy will be off to college. Together we'll give Boy the space he needs to leave and we'll re-create our own space as a couple. It is the cathexis that makes love both exquisite and painful but it is the "will to nurture one's own and another's spiritual growth" that makes it endure.
Who taught you how to love? to be loved?
Sunday, July 6, 2008
He's Back!
Boy that is. We still have a week to go before b is home from Alaska.
After going out for lunch in dowtown Big Southern City, we had a very long drive home from the airport. Luckily for me Boy was driving as we hit tremendous traffic and then a thunderstorm. Boy is a much better driver than I.
He showed me all the clothes and bedding (for his dorm room) that his Dad and Step Mom bought him. He needed an extra bag just to get it all home.
We went to the store together and I made a simple dinner. Then we watched Jesus Camp and discussed the role of religion in our society. Now he's sitting next to me reading In The Time of Butterflies. (I read it while he was away and it is excellent).
You all see where this is going don't you?
[sigh]
After going out for lunch in dowtown Big Southern City, we had a very long drive home from the airport. Luckily for me Boy was driving as we hit tremendous traffic and then a thunderstorm. Boy is a much better driver than I.
He showed me all the clothes and bedding (for his dorm room) that his Dad and Step Mom bought him. He needed an extra bag just to get it all home.
We went to the store together and I made a simple dinner. Then we watched Jesus Camp and discussed the role of religion in our society. Now he's sitting next to me reading In The Time of Butterflies. (I read it while he was away and it is excellent).
You all see where this is going don't you?
[sigh]
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Letting Go
Boy is away visiting his father for 3 weeks. When he comes back we'll have 6 weeks before he goes away to college. So this trip away is kind of a "test run" for b and I. He's certainly been away for 3 weeks before. Last year he went to Vancouver for 3 weeks. He often goes to visit his father for 2 or 3 week at a time. But this feels different....because it's a test run.
Boy has been doing his best to get on my last nerve for the past 2 months. I know this is normal and healthy but it is amazingly annoying. We're doing our best to handle it with humor. I told him it was my job to make him want to leave home and it was his job to make me want him to leave. My job is done, his job is probably impossible.
But he's taken it to heart and is giving it his best shot. Boy has always liked long drawn out discussions. Usually we see eye-to-eye. Occasionally we disagree and get into debates that contain humor, teasing, and some deep thought. I love talking to Boy. He's got my family's conversation style down pat. Lately however, he's been needling me. He'll sucker me into one of these conversations and start being contrary--saying anything to get my goat. This is how his father argues. I divorced his father.
It is usually pretty difficult to get under my skin. I can stay annoyingly unruffled but Boy can get to me every time. And yet I miss him. I'd rather have him here--generating dirty dishes in the middle of the night; leaving puddles on the bathroom floor; attacking me on environmental stances he doesn't even hold--than anywhere else in the world.
Worse yet, he alternates needling with being needy. I know he's nervous because he requires a lot of hugs lately. He shows this by standing next to me and throwing his arms wide open until I come in for a hug. He comes in and lies on my bed when I'm reading to talk and snuggle. He's been bringing up random memories from when he was little.
A few months ago, before all this behavior started, he was working two jobs and we barely saw him. When we did see him he was tired but friendly. It was kind of like having a roommate you really like but rarely see. b and I began to get used to alone time and I, foolishly, thought this letting him go away to college wouldn't be so hard. But then he quit one job and the other job got quiet. He was around a lot and I'm around a lot (because it's summer and I don't have to go into the office). We started going to the gym together. He came back to the dojo with me. We took Pupzilla on long walks together (him needling me all the while).
I got used to him being around all over again. Now he's not here but I know he'll be back and then he won't be here. I know this will play out for the next few years, each time him needing me to be there less and less. "A mother has to be there to be left." I've heard it before and I know it's true but man does it suck being the mother.
Boy has been doing his best to get on my last nerve for the past 2 months. I know this is normal and healthy but it is amazingly annoying. We're doing our best to handle it with humor. I told him it was my job to make him want to leave home and it was his job to make me want him to leave. My job is done, his job is probably impossible.
But he's taken it to heart and is giving it his best shot. Boy has always liked long drawn out discussions. Usually we see eye-to-eye. Occasionally we disagree and get into debates that contain humor, teasing, and some deep thought. I love talking to Boy. He's got my family's conversation style down pat. Lately however, he's been needling me. He'll sucker me into one of these conversations and start being contrary--saying anything to get my goat. This is how his father argues. I divorced his father.
It is usually pretty difficult to get under my skin. I can stay annoyingly unruffled but Boy can get to me every time. And yet I miss him. I'd rather have him here--generating dirty dishes in the middle of the night; leaving puddles on the bathroom floor; attacking me on environmental stances he doesn't even hold--than anywhere else in the world.
Worse yet, he alternates needling with being needy. I know he's nervous because he requires a lot of hugs lately. He shows this by standing next to me and throwing his arms wide open until I come in for a hug. He comes in and lies on my bed when I'm reading to talk and snuggle. He's been bringing up random memories from when he was little.
A few months ago, before all this behavior started, he was working two jobs and we barely saw him. When we did see him he was tired but friendly. It was kind of like having a roommate you really like but rarely see. b and I began to get used to alone time and I, foolishly, thought this letting him go away to college wouldn't be so hard. But then he quit one job and the other job got quiet. He was around a lot and I'm around a lot (because it's summer and I don't have to go into the office). We started going to the gym together. He came back to the dojo with me. We took Pupzilla on long walks together (him needling me all the while).
I got used to him being around all over again. Now he's not here but I know he'll be back and then he won't be here. I know this will play out for the next few years, each time him needing me to be there less and less. "A mother has to be there to be left." I've heard it before and I know it's true but man does it suck being the mother.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day
It's Father's Day. b will be spending most of it driving Boy to a far away airport so he can go visit his (biological) Dad up north. Seems wrong, don't it? b never gets a Father's Day with Boy and, since both of our fathers have passed, the day pretty much goes unnoticed in our household. So I decided today warranted a post on fathers in general and on b as a father in particular.
There have been some interesting posts and articles going around the web these days on mothers (and I think I'll be posting on this topic soon) but it can be harder to find a meaningful discussion of fatherhood. I think this stems from our confusion over what it means to be father and specifically, what it means to be a good father. I say confusion because, as a society, we've been in flux over our definition of fatherhood and how it differs from motherhood and how both differ from parenthood. I personally think men can (and do) mother but many father and this is an important role that is different from "parenting." I also think it goes beyond "being a good provider" or "delivering life lessons" or "playing sports and being active with the kids." These are the responses I get from students when we discuss fatherhood in my classes. Interestingly, most depictions/descriptions of fathers are with sons not daughters, but that's another story.
But let's get back to b. b is a natural father. From the day I met him I knew he was someone who should have children. He has heard that many times. I'm not sure what gives people that impression about him but I think is is due, in part, to his patience and his calm and gentle demeanor. b and I were very careful about deciding when in our dating life we should introduce him to Boy. Boy was 9 when we first started dating and well into 10 before b came into his life. b delayed this meeting longer than I wanted because he knew once he met Boy he wouldn't be able to stand losing him, should we break up.
My mother likes to say what an amazing stepfather b is, and this is true. Step-parenting is incredibly difficult, especially when the child is older and has both parents in the picture. b and Boy have a warm, rich, and genuine relationship. They love each other and are able to express that love to each other. b has walked that very thin line step-parents have to walk with grace and finesse.
But to me b represents what any father, step or otherwise, should be. Sure b did a lot of fatherly tasks, like teaching Boy how to shave and how to drive (including how to drive stick) but I thought I'd describe a few moments from our past that illustrate his fathering qualities.
There have been some interesting posts and articles going around the web these days on mothers (and I think I'll be posting on this topic soon) but it can be harder to find a meaningful discussion of fatherhood. I think this stems from our confusion over what it means to be father and specifically, what it means to be a good father. I say confusion because, as a society, we've been in flux over our definition of fatherhood and how it differs from motherhood and how both differ from parenthood. I personally think men can (and do) mother but many father and this is an important role that is different from "parenting." I also think it goes beyond "being a good provider" or "delivering life lessons" or "playing sports and being active with the kids." These are the responses I get from students when we discuss fatherhood in my classes. Interestingly, most depictions/descriptions of fathers are with sons not daughters, but that's another story.
But let's get back to b. b is a natural father. From the day I met him I knew he was someone who should have children. He has heard that many times. I'm not sure what gives people that impression about him but I think is is due, in part, to his patience and his calm and gentle demeanor. b and I were very careful about deciding when in our dating life we should introduce him to Boy. Boy was 9 when we first started dating and well into 10 before b came into his life. b delayed this meeting longer than I wanted because he knew once he met Boy he wouldn't be able to stand losing him, should we break up.
My mother likes to say what an amazing stepfather b is, and this is true. Step-parenting is incredibly difficult, especially when the child is older and has both parents in the picture. b and Boy have a warm, rich, and genuine relationship. They love each other and are able to express that love to each other. b has walked that very thin line step-parents have to walk with grace and finesse.
But to me b represents what any father, step or otherwise, should be. Sure b did a lot of fatherly tasks, like teaching Boy how to shave and how to drive (including how to drive stick) but I thought I'd describe a few moments from our past that illustrate his fathering qualities.
- On one of our first "threesome dates" we went kayaking in the sound. Boy was very big into fishing at that time and let him bring his rod and promised he would have a chance to use it. We had a long drive to the water and then a few hours of paddling and at the end of the long day we stopped at a pier to let Boy fish. It was hot and late and we were all tired. Boy has always been the type where nothing comes easy and within minutes his line was hopelessly tangled. We still had a long drive home and I knew b wanted to hit the road soon but he took the rod without a word, sat down on the dock and started slowly and methodically untying the knot. Boy hovered over and around him, anxious that he would somehow be blamed/shamed, b just handed him back the rod and told him to try again.
- We moved into our first house together and Boy had to start a new school (after two years of dreadful school experiences) about 6 weeks into the start of the new semester. Boy and I toured the school the week before his start date and he knew where everything was. On his first day of school we drove him there but he felt it was important that he enter the school on his own. b and I sat in the car and watched his frail little figure, shoulders schlumped, trudge dutifully into the building. It was a sight to break your heart and I was close to tears. I felt a little silly being so overprotective and turned towards b, trying to put on a brave front, only to see tears streaming down his face.
- The house we bought was right in the middle of Snow Valley and that first winter we got hit with several storms. We had a long steep (really cool) driveway that b and I would shovel every time the weather dumped on us. In February of that year, shortly before we got married (for us it was house and child first, marriage second) b came down with a really bad case of pneumonia. Of course we got hit with a snowstorm and Boy had to come out and help me with the drive. As we shoveled we talked about b and I reassured him that b would get better soon. At one point Boy turned to me, put down his shovel, and said "Mom, we're keeping him, right? I mean you're not going to change your mind about him, are you?" And I reassured him, that yes, b would be with us forever, and he was happy. And so am I.
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Themes
So New Year Themes have been going around—thanks to profgrrl-and I’m late to the party. I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what my theme is-means and getting stuck. I thought it would be “transitioning” because I’m being forced into a major role transition this year. This is the year Boy goes off to college and my daily mothering activities will cease. [Note: We actually thought he was going off last year but he chose to defer. His life at home post-high school has already decreased many of my daily mothering activities but it will still be a huge transition not to have him around.]
But the truth is my life has been about transition for the past two years, if not longer, having made the largest physical move in my life and the largest move in my career by coming to this town and this job. I wanted the theme to be transition because I wanted to acknowledge to myself that this mothering transition is a process and to give myself the space and time to make it as well as to be bitchy or pouty when need be.
But it feels too narrow to be a New Year’s Theme. Instead I’ve chosen “Claiming.” I remember visiting my mother some 9 years ago when I was about to make another huge transition (out of my 17 year old marriage) and she told me I needed to “claim my power” and that this was something most women struggle with and that she was struggling with at 60. I think I want to spend this year claiming the new roles I do have and the power I have to affect change for myself, my loved ones, my students, my department, my research, etc.
Since I’ve been here I’ve felt like the “newbie” in my department, in my dojo, in my city. For me, being a “newbie” means I don’t have the same rights to speak up, take charge, be heard, etc as people who have history in a place. I’ve always resented people joining my spaces with the “let me tell you what I know” attitude. I’ve been taught you need to empty your cup when you embark on a new endeavor so you can take in the knowledge that is presented to you. This works well for me…to a point. I think I’ve reached that point.
I’ve felt like a “newbie” in my research since getting my doctorate (almost 6 years ago now) even though I’ve been heavily engaged in research for 18 years. Part of my transition to this job was to allow me to transition to a new research agenda and to explore new methodologies. I have done that and now I think I need to work on claiming this new agenda and viewing it as an important contribution to the field. I suppose I need to claim my role as the mother of an independent Boy but that I’ll be struggling with for some time to come.
But the truth is my life has been about transition for the past two years, if not longer, having made the largest physical move in my life and the largest move in my career by coming to this town and this job. I wanted the theme to be transition because I wanted to acknowledge to myself that this mothering transition is a process and to give myself the space and time to make it as well as to be bitchy or pouty when need be.
But it feels too narrow to be a New Year’s Theme. Instead I’ve chosen “Claiming.” I remember visiting my mother some 9 years ago when I was about to make another huge transition (out of my 17 year old marriage) and she told me I needed to “claim my power” and that this was something most women struggle with and that she was struggling with at 60. I think I want to spend this year claiming the new roles I do have and the power I have to affect change for myself, my loved ones, my students, my department, my research, etc.
Since I’ve been here I’ve felt like the “newbie” in my department, in my dojo, in my city. For me, being a “newbie” means I don’t have the same rights to speak up, take charge, be heard, etc as people who have history in a place. I’ve always resented people joining my spaces with the “let me tell you what I know” attitude. I’ve been taught you need to empty your cup when you embark on a new endeavor so you can take in the knowledge that is presented to you. This works well for me…to a point. I think I’ve reached that point.
I’ve felt like a “newbie” in my research since getting my doctorate (almost 6 years ago now) even though I’ve been heavily engaged in research for 18 years. Part of my transition to this job was to allow me to transition to a new research agenda and to explore new methodologies. I have done that and now I think I need to work on claiming this new agenda and viewing it as an important contribution to the field. I suppose I need to claim my role as the mother of an independent Boy but that I’ll be struggling with for some time to come.
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