Life with Boys

Our hectic lives raising 5 boys!

[lifewithboys]

WTF

Sooo, I make a pact with myself to spend more time giving in to my feelings of restlessness when it comes to writing...and than I don’t write for four day?  Go figure!

It could be because our timeline got moved up.

What timeline you ask?

Well, I’ll tell ya,  Hayden is a Freshman this year, Dean is in fifth grade-so he’ll start middle school next year, and Roy works about 60 miles from home. NOT horrible, until you factor in rush hour traffic.  Sometimes, Roy gets into the office in an hour an a half, sometimes it take twice that-my goal was to move the summer before Hayden’s junior year.  That would give him two years at a new high school, Dean would have two years at the middle school before moving into HS, but my husband is beat.  With the new position he accepted, he’s going in almost daily-and I know it’s hard on him.  So, we’re looking to move in just a few months!

Ugh, I said it out loud

We’ve been here so long, I forgot why I dislike the process.  Getting the house ready, finding a new house...and than there’s THE PURGE.

I decided to start small, something no one could have any say over-my closet.  I listed items on ebay, I put aside items for a yard sale-and felt accomplished until I looked at my closet.  Pretty sure it looks no different.  When did I accumulate so much stuff?  

To be fair, Roy’s side of the closet looks similar.  I tell the man he needs to purge and he gives me two t-shirts-out of the 50 he owns-though he only wears about 10.  He has a t-shirt that he wears constantly (I wash it, he wears it-vicious cycle) that I can see through-I kid you not.  It didn’t start out like that, he just wears it constantly!  To boot-it says Grooveshark (does anyone even remember what that is?) and he got it for free!  Not that there’s anything wrong with promotional swag-I love my pens, but when it’s starting to disintegrate, maybe it’s time to move on?

Now, for my case I realized I have way to many shirts with goofy sayings.  Some I bought for the specific purpose of basketball games-I have a few with sayings, or Hayden’s number, etc.  But most say ridiculous things like, “More Tacos please.”  I’m not sure why I need three shirts that say that-especially when all are just different shades of grey.  

And you’d think when the shirts hold no real sentimental value it would be easy to let go of-apparently, it is not.  You never know when you might find yourself in desperate need of tacos and maybe you’ve lost your voice?  I don’t know...

And let’s not even get in to my legging collection.  Now, in the winter I do wear them-daily for the most part.  I wear tunics and leggings, or a sweater and leggings, etc.  They’re warm and cute-the more colorful the better!  But I’m short, so specific brands fit me best-so why do I have pair after pair that are too big? 

I think there was a time when I bought clothes to make myself happy-I was feeling out of sorts, sad-and when I worked through that-I was left with a packed closet.  And so, THE PURGE commenced.

I truly hope the kitchen isn’t like this-or you’ll find me crying in the shower...

[lifewithboys]

It’s Been a Long Time

It’s been awhile-and there are so many reasons why, but the big one-I haven’t felt inspired.  2018 was rough for so many reasons, some self imposed.

To be clear-not much has changed.  Roy and I celebrated 20 years together (19 married) and honestly, I fall more in love with my husband each time I see him.  Hayden started 9th grade-where the hell did that come from?!  Dean started his final year of elementary school.  Addi left for the Army, and than came back-which was rough on all of us.  Corey is still plugging away at his job, and Joe is still active duty military.

And yet, around April of last year something started to feel off with me.  I plugged along, but eventually got to the point where I started to wondered if I was depressed. Nothing appealed to me, I wasn’t looking forward to anything, instead I started focusing on all the things that were changing-and good or bad, I chose to see them as ‘not good.’ When it became clear to me that whatever was going on in my mind, was started to effect me physically, I went to the doctor.  She said it sounded like anxiety-I couldn’t disagree, but I was clear that medication was something I didn’t want to start with.  She suggested a few things I do, and for a few weeks, I felt like myself again-and than I got sick-like REALLY sick.  I had never felt pain like that before-I crawled out of the bathroom and was able to text one work to Roy, who was downstairs, “Help.”

And there as something more in that, it wasn’t just that the pain in my stomach was so bad I couldn’t walk, that I was drenched in sweat and couldn’t breath-something else was eating me up inside.  And he took me to the ER-I got so dehydrated so quickly the left side of my face started to lose muscle function-I saw the worry in my husband’s face-was it a stroke, no, I just had nothing left in me.  A kind nurse came in and noticed I was shivering so badly I couldn’t relax-she wrapped me up in warm blankets, gave me a shot of something to help with the pain, and showed Roy how to rub my temples to get me to relax.  For the first time in almost two days, I slept for a few hours.  When I woke up, I felt as if I’d had my ass kicked, but a tide had turned.  I’d done it again-I’d taken all the changes-many good, many positive, and only focused on what I was losing-time with the boys, the ability to see Joe every day, and ignored all the very good changes around me-I’d internalized all of that and put myself in the hospital-run down, exhausted, and maybe a little broken. 

Eventually, they released me-with strict orders to rest-I did, as much as I could but I started to see things differently.  I no longer saw the solid, little boy that loved Power Rangers, I no longer cried for that little boy that was many years gone, and instead I saw the (big!) strong, talented, smart and funny 14 year old Hayden was becoming.

I stopped seeing the little baby that took his first steps into his older brother’s waiting arms-and saw the smart, chess playing boy that has little girls texting him constantly.

I stopped hoping for Joe to walk through the door and tell me that school was boring-and instead relished the phone calls that might not come as often as I’d like, but when they do they are filled with stories, and jokes, and laughter, and he ends each one with, “I love you mom.”

I stopped praying that Addi would get it together, and focused on the young man that is no more lost than I was!  I started to see the charming, and loyal boy that would go to the ends of the earth for his family.  And cheered him on when he found a job that he was excited about.

And our oldest turned 24, he used to run around in a Batman costume trying to scare me, but now he’s working a full time job, and finding his way in this world.  He routinely watches his younger brothers so Roy and I can get away-in fact he actively encourages us to get away and spend time together.

And perhaps, Roy and I faced the biggest changes of 2018-Roy was recently given the opportunity to step into a high profile position. One that takes him into the office most days, lays more responsibility on his shoulders, and has shown us that we might be moving sooner rather than later.  Just a month ago, my plan was to move the summer before Hayden’s junior year-so Summer of 2020.  Nope, Roy sat me down and told me its tough.  He misses dinners with the family, time to relax after work with the boys and I-so, it looks like we will be moving sooner rather than later-as in I’m starting to look around at what can go and what I need to do to put the house on the market!  And just a few months ago, that idea would have filled me with dread-and here I find myself looking forward to the challenge.  I find myself anticipating-new adventures and a new home to decorate as we start a new chapter in our lives.

And, this is what’s made me the happiest, I started itching to write again.  I started feeling the words twisting and turning again, the ideas started flowing and moving.  And it feels GOOD!  For the first time, in a long time-I feel like me.

[lifewithboys]

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[lifewithboys]

It’s Time to Stop Playing the Game

Hayden loves basketball-he eats, breathes and sleeps it.  When Roy and I realized this, my mom reminded me that it was my job to support him and try and be there for him-to encourage him, to cheer him on and to support him.

I get it, I HOPE I’ve done a good job and that he knows how much we believe in him, how much we care, but I’ve also run across this other phenomenon.

The sports parent.

Now, by virtue of the simple fact that our son does sports and we are his parents-we are sports parents too-BUT because I know myself, because I used to coach-I’ve always kept myself a bit removed from the other parents.  I didn’t want a slip of the tongue or to hear something negative effect my enjoyment of watching my son go for his dreams.

But Roy and I also wondered if there wasn’t a better way?  My dad always told me that I didn’t have to be best buddies with the girls I swam with, but that I should respect their drive, the effort they give to the team.  I agreed, but I also know that when I was a young, silly teenager that was hard to do without KNOWING the person. 

I wanted to know if this girl was worth giving my respect too.  Now, that doesn’t mean I don’t respect people as just that-people, but could it be something more? I found when I not only respected my teammates, but liked them we had a much different dynamic.  Individual events were just that, individual, but it sure made it just that much more special, seeing my teammates on the sidelines yelling their brains out with my mom to get me going. But the relays became something to see-we picked up on each other’s cues.  If one of my teammates was having a rough day we were there to cheer her up, to pick her up and to pick up the slack if need be-once that dynamic was established we started to win, to drop time and to enjoy the race once again.

“What if?” I told Roy, “What if we tried to do something like that for the team?”

I said this to him when he was contemplating getting involved-he told me they don’t have to be friends.

I said I agree, BUT they should respect one another, they should know they can count on one another, and with young boys that’s hard to make happen in an abstract way.  See as an adult, I might not like you-but I can respect you as a human being.  I can admire your drive or your sense of style, even if we don’t get along.  For kids that’s a harder concept to teach-I struggled to explain this to Roy. 

Eventually, I found the words-and he agreed that what we dealt with last year wasn’t something we wanted again-so why not?  And while we were winning it was great!  The kids wanted to play, the parents seemed game-and than we had a bad tournament.

Now, I sit in the bleachers, and I’ve been to every single game. Almost every practice-I hear the comments from parents, I hear the negativity, but one thing I noticed when the chips are down-the cheering stops. And that bothered me deeply.  Don’t out kids need to know that we support them even when they’re losing by 14?  

Long Story short, I’ve come to learn that mob mentality is an ugly dynamic-there’s nothing that will kill your passion quicker than being in a room and being attacked by parents-some you thought of as friends. There’s nothing that will beat you down more assuredly, than being told to know your role, and having your parenting skills questioned.  But most importantly, it kinda sucks knowing that your efforts were not only not needed, but not wanted.

Now, Roy pointed out that I shouldn’t take this personally-and I can see his point.  Not caring to get to know one another, probably isn’t a reflection on me-rather it’s a preference of the other parents-and yet there’s something to be said for delivering that message without attacking the very people that tried so hard to do something good for your kids.

Ultimately, I realized that perhaps sports have changed-maybe individual effort and knowing your ‘role,’ are the desired attributes as opposed to building something that make the kids feel safe, special and supported.  Maybe I had it wrong to begin with-it isn’t a team, or a family-it’s a business arrangement-and as such it can be treated like one.

And maybe I got it wrong and I’m not supposed to care about my son and the young men that he plays Basketball with-maybe I’m supposed to simply sit in silence and hope for the best?

And I wonder if I’m wrong for thinking that a shitty way to ‘run’ a team?

[lifewithboys]

That 1 AM Call

If you’ve ever sent a child off to Boot Camp, or been yourself, or maybe had a spouse or SO go, you probably know what I’m talking about.

It was freezing last night, and Roy and I settled into bed.  I cried myself to sleep a bit, and Roy put his hand on my back-just that touch gave me comfort, and then at 1 AM the phone rings and we both shoot up.

“Mom, Dad?”Addi’s voice came through the phone, and just hearing that he was ok, sounded good, and strong I breathed a sigh of relief.

And he told us he was there, and that he would call when he can.  We both screamed we love you, and than he was gone.

On Sunday we dropped our third son off at the recruiter’s office.  The 45 minute ride down was filled with advice from Roy, I tried to offer what I could, but every time I opened my mouth tears filled my eyes.  Addi had already had one sad good bye with his baby brother.  Dean tried to say goodbye, but the best he could do was hug his brother and then come and cling tightly to me.  Addi tried his best to make Dean laugh, to reassure him as only an older brother does, but eventually Addi broke down in tears as well, as he tightly gripped his youngest brother.  I turned away and missed the quiet words he whispered to Dean.

And then we went outside, Roy backed the Jeep out of the garage, as Addi had yet another tough goodbye with his girlfriend.  I saw him take her face in his hands, and say something to her. She nodded her head and kissed him.  Addi walked quickly to the Jeep as I hugged her myself.  I told her to call or text-as we’ll both miss him dearly.  To stop by if she got sad and stay for a visit. She returned my hug, I kissed her cheek and she got in her car and drove home-alone.

Addi didn’t say much on the drive down.  Roy gave him advice and he solemnly listened.  

See it’s been a long 19 years.  Sitting in a classroom being talked at was rough for Addi, but he did it.  He graduated HS, and than sat to take stock. He admitted to us he wasn’t sure what came next, where he wanted to go.  I tried to press him-did he want to take some classes at the local Community College?  The military?  And after a few months, Roy sat him down-he needed to figure out what he wanted to do, where he wanted to go in life, and we would help any way we could, but he needed to talk to us.

His older brother is excelling in the Navy.  He found a path that works for him, he puts in the time and hours, and is already getting recognition.  I don’t know what Joe said to Addi, but one day Addi came to us and said he decided on the Army.  He’d always shown an interest in paramedics, EMT’s, fire fighters-so we told him to look into that, and somehow he ended up with the Army.  

“Mom, I’m leaving on April 9.”  My heart skipped a beat and my stomach dropped-that was about a month away.  I tried to choose my words carefully.  I wanted him to know I supported his decision, and yet-it was so soon.

Too soon!

See, Addi had gradually started to change.  Oh, we still butt heads, but he seemed older, more mature-more content.  We talked, and laughed and I saw the beautiful, charming young man he was becoming-but he was leaving.  He spent time with friends, and with his girlfriend.  He played a bit with his younger brothers-and April 9th, just loomed over us.

Roy kept reminding him to pack up what he wanted in his room, I told him to take out his trash-and April 9th, kept on coming.  

And then April 8th (He had to be down there a day earlier) smacked us in the face.  For the past four years, I joked that I hoped one day Joe would surprise me by just showing up-but Joe’s like Roy-he doesn’t do that.  Addi assured me that I would be getting a surprise from him one day.

“I know you’d like that Mom.” He told me, “I’m gonna do that, just you wait.”

I smiled at him, and a small part of me wanted to ask, WHEN?  When will you be home, my sweet little boy?

And another part of me, decided to just happily anticipate a surprise visit from our soldier.  

And then it was time for him to walk us to the car-he had a bus to catch.  It took me a few minutes to find my voice, and when I finally did speak up the tears just started to come.  I clutched him and he hugged me hard, while I rested my head on his chest and tried to cram 19 years worth of advice, and love into five minutes.

“I love you so much.”

“Dad and I are so proud of you.”

“You’ll need the other boys in your unit, be a friend, and a leader.”

“And remember, how very much I love you.”

Roy hugged him tightly, and I could see my husband get choked up.   As we drove away, I had my head in my hands, tears just flowing and Roy touched my cheek, my hair, anything to offer me some comfort.  I didn’t want to go home, I didn’t want to leave him, I wanted my little boy home with me.

And yet, we let him go.  To find himself, to make his mark and to travel his own path.  

And last night, we got the call-he was where he needed to be.  He sounded, strong-confident.  And my heart swelled with pride, and then he was gone, and Roy put his hand on my leg-for comfort.  I cried a bit more, and settled into sleep.

Our son is on his way-and I hope he knows he holds a piece of our hearts with him always.  Maybe he’ll hear Roy’s strong, sure voice in his hear when he’s nervous or unsure.  Maybe he’ll see his little brother’s smile and know Dean is so proud of him.  And maybe he’ll see the love in my eyes, and that will give him the push he needs to do just one more mile.  And at night, when he’s exhausted and beat up, and just plain worn out-maybe he’ll close his eyes, and know that we will always have his back.

GodSpeed to our amazing 19 year old-we can’t wait to see where your path takes you.

[lifewithboys]

MOVIEPASS and Tomb Raider

Have you seen Cougar Town?  If not, you’re missing out. Anyways, in the film the guys play a silly game called “PENNYCAN!” I say Movie pass in the same tone with the same inflection.

I’m sure of you have heard of Movie Pass-and let me tell you, I was skeptical at first.  Roy mentioned it to me a few months ago-ten dollars a month for all you can see movies.

“Bullshit.”  was my answer and excuse my French, but sounded too good to be true.

It isn’t, and we’ve had it about three months now and have seen about 12 movies.  So, we’ve paid about $30 to see about $150 worth of films.  In fact, we’ve been so happy we bought a few as gifts this past Christmas.  All in all, if you like movies-this is a no brainer.  CS can be iffy at times-best way to get in touch with them is on their FB page, but I can overlook that now as we’ve been lucky and haven’t had any issues (knock on woord)

So, the kids, Roy and I all love adventure movies-maybe Roy and I more so than the little boys.  Indiana Jones, The Mummy, National Treasure-if you liked them, I expect you’ll enjoy the new Tomb Raider.

Now, I went into this with a clean eye-with the exception of the Angelina Jolie films a few years ago, I don’t know much about this franchise.  Roy has played it and enjoyed it, but I wasn’t impressed with the previous films. Yet the more I saw the trailer for this film, the more I wanted to see it.  And we had a ball!

The younger boys enjoyed it, Roy enjoyed and I completely dug it!  I realize that some reviews aren’t good, and yet I have to wonder what people expect?  This isn’t Moonlight, or Selma-it isn’t Malcolm X-it’s a simple adventure story-period.

I knew who Alicia Vikander was, but wasn’t that familiar with her work-and I adored her in this role.  She brought a humanity to a role that seemed to border on super heroism in the previous films-even during the over the top action sequences.  One part in particular, Roy and I actually discussed this, I found that she brought empathy to the character, and we were both impressed.

Walter Goggins as the ‘villain’ or rather as the spokesperson FOR the villains was supremely effective-but isn’t he always?  As Mathias Vogel he has just the right amount of smarm, with just the right touch of evil-and yet  there were small moments when you could almost empathize with him.  I’ve found this is often the case with action movies-we KNOW the hero will somehow save the day so less exposition is to almost be expected regarding them, so it’s nice when they do take the time to give the villain a bit depth to him/her.

Daniel Wu did a good job with what he was given-maybe some slight sexual tension between his character and Croft, but not enough that it interfered with the story. I bought that he believed in her, and as such she became his friend.  

The story is standard.  As a young girl, Lara said goodbye to her father-a heartbroken adventurer-and didn’t see him for 7 years.  Presumed to be dead, she finds out a bit more about him through her father’s lawyer-and that leads us on our merry adventure.  I won’t give too much away-the story is pretty simple, but it was well explained.  I appreciate that at the end they went with a plausible explanation, as opposed to a strictly supernatural one.  And yes, some of the CGI and action sequences were obvious, and super over the top-but that’s part of the fun for me. 

In the end, Vikander made this movie for me.  She was great as Croft, and I hope they explore more of Lara’s life in sequels.

IF you liked Indiana Jones and National Treasure-give this one a go.

[lifewithboys]

It’s My Birthday!!

Today is my birthday. Dean-our youngest-very sweetly gave me a big hug and kiss when I woke him up.

“Happy 29th Birthday, mom!”

Our sweet little guy.

And while I sat at the kitchen table reading my silly historical romance novel-I realized that ALL my boys had already given me amazing gifts.

-Our Oldest is working his way through school-a dual Bachelor’s-all while working a full time job.  He’s watched his younger brothers more than once so that Roy and I can get away for a short weekend or even a cruise.  He makes me laugh, cry with pride, and admire his strength.

-Joe-our second-is in the US Navy. And though I haven’t seen him in over a year-(My heart breaks just realizing that!) and we don’t get to talk to him all that often either-Roy and I are so proud that he’s serving his country and doing a job that he’s excelling in.

-Addison-number 3-is also getting ready to celebrate a birthday-19!  And though sometimes we’ve struggled, he’s finally starting to find himself.  To see just how special and gifted he truly is-Roy and I getting to see that blossom within him is truly amazing-and one of the greatest gifts we’ve been given as parents.  He has something big coming up-more on that later. 

-Hayden is almost 14-he’ll start high school next year!  (Where the hell has time gone?) And to see him rise to the occasion this year-not only on the basketball court but in school as well-makes us so proud.  He broke a school record for most points scored in a season, he got MVP-and he’s making honor roll.  And even though he is now our tallest-and still growing-he’s joining his brothers in their idea that one’s never too cool to give mom a hug, to give her a kiss or to let her hold your arm when it’s slippery outside.  

-And then there’s our Baby Dean.  He’s ten now, not quite a baby, though he’ll always be our baby-and what a young man he is!  Polite, caring, and so kind.  He works his tail off in school-already realizes that good grades and a healthy attitude will go a long way towards achieving his goals.  He isn’t sure what he wants to do in life-but whatever he does-he’s going to succeed.

And finally-there’s my Roy.  My heart.  He’s kinda made just about all my dreams come true-and I say that because I still have dreams for us-some big, and some small, but I know that making them come true, honestly fills him with Joy.  Seeing me smile, makes him happy-and achieving our dreams together is something we both take great pride in.

They’ve all asked me what I want for my birthday, and they all know I love my ‘things,’ (as Roy calls them) but I want all of them to know-that they’ve given me the greatest gifts already.

[lifewithboys]

I mean It This Time

For the past few months, I’ve posted too sporadically-each time saying I’m going to do better.  I mean it this time-I miss being able to vent, laugh and cry-need a healthy outlet for all three-and here it is.

I’m about to turn 44.  I don’t FEEL 44, I certainly don’t act 44, and people tell me I don’t look 44.  I’m at a really good place in my life-I have a good life and I’m lucky, but I find myself sad too often.

It isn’t depression-I’ve been there, this is more a sadness as time is marching on.  I’ve written about this before-as the boys leave the house or get older, as they hit another milestone I thought was years off.  Right now, Joe is at a point in his career where he doesn’t have much extra time-that’s the Navy for ya.  I get it, I knew when he left things would change, but I miss him terribly.  We haven’t seen him in over a year.

Corey is almost 24, and though he lives at home-it’s more for convenience.  Roy and I know what it’s like to just be starting out. It’s hard, life’s expensive and we said he could stay at home until he finished up with school-or until Roy got tired of him (HAHAHAA).  But he’s busy with a full time job, he’s finishing up classes and has an internship-he’s rarely home.

And now, our little Addison is most likely leaving as well. He’s struggled to define himself for awhile now.  School wasn’t really his thing-he likes to be active, and we get that.  School isn’t for everyone, and we aren’t going to push college courses on him.  We worried where he would go, but eventually he decided that perhaps following in his older brothers footsteps wasn’t a bad idea, and he is in the process of enlisting as we speak. If all goes well, there will come a day here way too soon where he will leave home.  Where he will go out into the world, and do what he can to serve his country.

I can’t express our pride enough.  The three older boys are plotting their own path, finding their place-and yet I feel like maybe I still have love to give.

Now them leaving doesn’t mean my love diminishes for them in any way, shape or form-but I love being a mom. It’s who I am-and I do so happily.  Hayden and Dean are still home, and I still have some serious momming to do with them, but what if I can do more?  What if I have more room in my heart?

A baby isn’t in the cards, and I can’t even say I would want to adopt if that was an option-I’m getting older and can’t say I want diapers, and sleepless night again, but what about an older child?  I don’t know.  A part of me wants to push Roy to be open to the idea, another part of me knows that when he speaks of a time when it’s just us-when we can enjoy this wonderful life we’ve created-together before age makes us weary-well, maybe I know he’s right.

Instead of seeing the boys growing and leaving as me losing them, I should remember that we’ve done a pretty ok job raising them, and at some point it will be there turn to make a difference-no matter how big or small, and I will be there to cheer them on.  

[lifewithboys]

See ya...

So, we’ve been with Progressive insurance for a number of years.  Our longest policy was 15 years-Roy’s motorcycle, which he sold last year, but the entire time he had it, we had Progressive-same policy and everything.

About five years ago, we switched to them for auto insurance.  We were happy for the most part.

Then we bought the RV a few years ago-guess who we chose?

Now, we’ve run the gambit, Just Roy and I, the older boys, etc.  Always paid our insurance, no claims (knock on wood) no speeding tickets, etc.

So, I’m waking up Monday, and notice we get our renewal policy-cool.  

Wait a minute!  Why’d it go up $1119!  

So, I call-seems since Addison is about to turn 19, they automatically add him as a ‘driver.’  Now, he has no license-he does have a permit.  He rarely practices, and often rides his skateboard to work, or walks.  I can’t say WHY he doesn’t want to get his license, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.  We have all told him-Roy, COrey and myself-anytime you want to practice just ask.  He rarely does and I roll my eyes and tell him to get his license!

BUT apparently Progressive says-no bigge, if they are over 18 they are considered a licensed driver. So basically, I’m to pay them for the privilege of still having my 19 year old son at home and living under our roof.  ARe you kidding me?

I was not happy-was basically told-”It’s how it is.”

So, I called around-six other insurance companies, NONE do this.  I had two express surprise, one even laughed and said that was ridiculous.  Tell me about it!  

I realize Progressive isn’t going to up and change policy because I said it was ridiculous, but WHY do they do that?  I can see both sides, play Devil’s Advocate, but the gentleman I talked to at Progressive told me that other companies can work the system-they aren’t like that.  So, every other insurance company is doing it wrong?

INteresting....

See ya, Progressive.  We just transferred all our policies to Geico-did I mention we swapped Homeowners too?

[lifewithboys]

Seriously, WHAT is the point of decaffeinated coffee?

[lifewithboys]

An Open Letter

Dear Fellow Mom’s,

Or Dad’s, sisters, brothers, grandparents, uncles, aunts-whomever.

When we watch out kids play a sport-be it basketball, swimming, football, etc-things can get heated.  Tempers flare, we get excited. We remember that little boy that could barely pick up a ball-it was bigger than he was-and then we see him race down the court charging towards the basket.  We watch him get fouled, or watch him foul someone.  We see the shoving on the court, or the dirty looks.  We hear the refs make bad calls, and clap when they get it right.

We watch that shot circle the rim (ok, I’m totally talking about basketball here) and if it falls in-we cheer. If it doesn’t-we sigh in frustration. We watch these kids put their heart and soul into the game, and they do it for a multitude of reasons-because we push them too, or because they want to. Maybe they have a natural gift, or maybe they have to practice that much harder.  IN the end, our goal is to support our children and their team, right?

What we don’t need is bickering in the stands.  It embarrasses our children, their team, and the coaches.  It takes away from the game, and does nothing to further it.  

Heckling the refs isn’t needed-they WILL make some bad calls, that’s a given.  You telling them they suck, or their blind, or stupid doesn’t fix the issue and what kid wants to see mom or dad being booted from the game because of a bad attitude?

One mom tried to argue with my husband about what constitutes a travel, even going so far as to be demeaning-not needed, and seeing as my husband is a fan, a coach and a player-I think he’s pretty good on what constitutes a travel.

One young lady told me to sit down during a tense portion of the game, she then went on to try and explain sportsmanship to me-only to turn around and boo the other team when they scored?  Huh?  

I’m not interested in your hypocrisy.  I’m not interested in arguing with you. What I am there to do is support my son and his team-win or lose.  I’m there to watch a game, and you bet your butt I’m going to cheer my son and his teammates on, but if the other teams makes a good play, I’m going to give props to them for it.  If my son and his teammates leave it all on the floor-win or lose, I’m going to be proud of them.  Because sports isn’t just about winning, right?  There are lessons to be learned no matter the outcome, correct?

And as parents, it’s our job to support them and help them learn. NOT embarrass them from the bleachers.  Not to hurl insults and pick fights.  In short, we should ALL be good sports, whether we are on the court or in the stands.

Thank you for your time and consideration,

A Basketball Mom

[lifewithboys]

What Happened?

About two weeks ago, we were at a basketball tournament.  Hayden played his heart out, but his team didn’t quite pull the win out.  For whatever reason, I always take his losses personally-I think Roy does too in a way, not so much that we failed or didn’t do everything we could to help him, but it’s tough seeing your kids play their all and not get what they hope for-that first place trophy.

Well, the tournament was about an hour and a half away, on the way back Hayden asked if we could stop by the mall.  I said sure, I know there was some new sneakers he was looking at, and I was hoping to get him a pair of cross trainers-it didn’t happen, but hang on.

While there, he saw the new Kyrie (Irving) basketball shoes.  I got to talking with Roy who pointed out that he’ll need another pair for AAU and basketball camp coming up.  So, we bought the shoes, not realizing Hayden apparently can not tell when a shoe is a bit too tight!

So we get home, and Roy grabs the box, telling Hayden he was going to try them on. Yes, they wear  the same size now.

“umm, are you sure these fit?” Roy asked walking around in one shoe.

“What? Why?” I asked, now I got annoyed, I admit it. The mall is an hour away, and mailing in returns takes forever, “I thought you helped him out!”

“Why didn’t you?” Roy threw back at me, I had to roll my eyes and watch as he had Hayden try them on, “Yeah, I think these are too tight.”

So, back to the store we go.  We walk in, and are informed that 12 1/2 is pretty big and they don’t often carry that size.  They will have some 12′s, skip 12 1/2 and maybe get one or two 13′s.

Huh?

Backtrack another couple of weeks, and I’m in Target cutting through the baby section to get to books.  I spot a tiny set of footie pajamas.  I snapped a picture and sent it to Roy, who immediately texts back, “NO!”  And yet, I stood there looking at those tiny pajamas-6 months, and remembering at one time, my little basketball player was too small for even this size.  I picked it up-Roy’s hand was probably almost bigger than these little bit of material, and yet at one time Hayden’s skinny little legs were too short.

Now, they are telling me his feet are too big for a size 12?

We went back to the mall this past Sunday, and Hayden had on a pair of boots.  We got out of the car, and I slide my arm through his, “I’m so proud of you!” I told him.

They had their championship tournament this past weekend, and again he played well.

I turned to our son, and realized that not only did my head not even come to his shoulder, but I was smack in the middle of his arm, I looked up at the boy that isn’t even 14 years old.  That still gets nervous when I ask him to put a sheet of cookies in the oven, cause he doesn’t want to get burned.  He patted my hand, that still held his arm.

“Love you mom.” he smiled down at me, a rare occasion lately.

I stood on tiptoes and watched him lower his cheek so I could give him a kiss, “I love you too, my sweet boy.”

And for just a moment, I was sad. I usually call them my sweet little boy, and it dawned on me that he isn’t that little anymore.

[lifewithboys]

Hate to Do This

I try to keep politics off of here.  Like Religion-it’s a charged subject.  We all have our beliefs, we all have our opinions-I’d like to be respected for mine, and I’ll give you that same courtesy.  As such, I find it easier to simply leave it off my blog.

But this has bugged me for years-and so, I’m gonna say it. 

Our federal employees deserve your respect.

Now, before you get upset hear me out.  Just like ANY other profession-you have your bad apples.  EMployees that simply want to collect a paycheck-and I’ve seen that in federal employees, but I’ve also seen that in teachers, doctors, nurses, retails workers, etc.

Then you have your stand outs-those that excel and truly go above and beyond.  Now, I get me saying that Roy falls into that category is biased-but I’ve seen it with my own eyes.  He’s respected and appreciated by his superiors and those that he leads.  He takes phone calls at 11 pm, because that guy on the west coast forgets about the time change (NOT cool west coast guy!), he works 60 hour weeks routinely and does the job of at least two on a daily basis. My husband works his ass off-to provide for our family and to do his part in doing whatever it is the Treasury Department does (keep your opinions to yourself please). Now he doesn’t push himself like this all day every day, but he does go above and beyond.

AS for most federal employees.  They are hard working, honest people-that took a job to do their part.  They want and deserve to not work under the constant threat of shutdowns, and they certainly don’t deserve the crappy comments that I routinely see floating around. 

It’s like that guy sitting behind you at the football game-he’s loud and obnoxious, but most fans are simply there to cheer on their team and enjoy the game.  BUT who’s voice rises above them all?  The obnoxious guy.  He isn’t the norm, he isn’t rule-he’s the exception.  And like in most professions-the lazy, bloat in the federal workforce is often the exception rather than the rule, so stop judging ALL federal employees by that limited figure.

When Corey was in third grade he had a teacher-lovely lady-that was getting ready to retire-and she phoned it in.  Nothing bad per se-but nothing good either.  The kids learned the minimum required, and that was about it.  BY that standard, should I assume all teachers are devoid of imagination and past caring about their students?

When I was in the hospital after having Hayden, Roy ran out to get a decent meal.  Because I was antsy and refused to sit still, I was prowling the hallways and heard the nurses talking about a doctor that left gauze in a patient-should I assume ALL doctors are like that, or was that a mistake?

Should I assume ALL retail employees are similar to the few I see at our local store-standing around talking, and IF you ask them where something is, they merely say, “Ohh...(insert laugh here)I don’t really know.....”

OR should I assume:

That there are teachers like the many our kids have had-the ones that go out of their way to take the driest math lesson and make it fun.  The ones that pay for snacks out of their own pockets so that all kids have something to eat.

What about the doctor that stuck around well after her shift was over, so she could make sure that first time mother had a doctor she knew and trusted deliver her baby?  Or the nurse that came into my room when it looked a crime scene (dont’ ask) and merely rushed to MY aid rather than sigh because some serious cleaning was ahead of her.

Or the retail associate, that took my husband aside and mentioned that a store down the road had the shoes our son was desperately coveting. Even though he works on commission.  

And just like the federal workplace you find the good and the bad-yet assuming EVERYONE in that profession is at the lowest possible rung on the ladder is simply asinine-yep I said it.  And frankly, it’s insulting.

[lifewithboys]

Is It Assault?

I’m going to weight my words very carefully here.  I’m also going to stress that this is MY opinion.  I believe we are all allowed our opinion, and I just feel compelled to give mine.

Sexual assault is a serious issue for so many reasons-aside from the fact that it’s illegal, its damaging on so many levels.  Physical wounds might heal, emotional ones take longer and sometimes never do.  Its not a joke, it’s not something to be thrown out lightly.  It’s not a tool to use when a relationship goes south, and men can also be victims.

When the news about Aziz Ansari broke, I read the article, just as I’ve done with most of the stories that have been coming out as of late, but *I* feel that this one is different-for many reasons.

And here’s where we need to tread lightly.  I don’t think oral sex or consenting to it means you are willing to engage in vaginal or anal sex.  I don’t think ‘fooling around’ with a guy or girl means you are obligated to have sex-I believe you can say no at any time.  I don’t believe that agreeing to dinner or even a night cap means, “Yes, I will have sex with you this evening.”  So lets be VERY clear on that.

But the water is gray:

1) Oral sex doesn’t mean you agree to penetrative sex, but it also doesn’t mean that you can push someone’s hand away and HOPE that they can clearly interpret what that means.

2) Fooling around doesn’t mean you consent to penetrative sex, but it also doesn’t mean that HOPING someone can read your mind or pick up on verbal cues is a guarantee either.

3) I don’t think a date-no matter how much is spent means anyone will get lucky, but I also think that it doesn’t hurt to be clear on your intentions from the get go.

For instance: A man treats me to a nice expensive meal.  Great conversation, the attraction is mutual-if I was asked to go back to his place-there is NOTHING wrong with me asking what his intentions are, and making MY intentions clear should I agree to ‘go back to his place.’

In short, I was taught to use my words, NOT HOPE my partner will get it.  And I agree that this is easier said than done, but just like I’ve told our kids-if you aren’t willing to talk about it, you aren’t mature enough to have sex.  Now, I’m under no illusion that maturity is necessary for sex-I get it.  But I also know that I’ve been married to my husband for over 18 years.  We’ve been together almost 20, and by all accounts we are unusually close.  And yet, we still misread each other on occasion!  Without getting into details, sometimes those occasions are even while being intimate! Depending on someone you’ve just met or just started dating to be able to pick up on your non-verbal cues is asinine.  My husband is extremely attentive and knows me like he knows the back of his hand-and he still misreads cues on occasion and vice versa. 

Now, I know not every relationship is like ours, maybe two people click immediately-who knows!  But why are we as a society banking on that?

I read an article where a young woman states that ‘as women we are taught to give in to men.’  HUH? Is that actually what young women are taught these days?  As I was growing up, I was told by both my parents-my friends were taught this, we were taught this in health class eve!- USE YOUR VOICE.  USE YOUR WORDS.  If a boy or a girl is doing something you don’t like-TELL THEM.  Don’t hope they guess, don’t assume they will know-and if they don’t listen to your words, you fight like hell, unless your life is in immediate danger than you do what you have to do to get out of there alive.  Are young women and men not taught that these days?  That’s not what we teach our boys, but are we in the minority?  Is our thought process-and by ours I mean Roy’s and mine-really that different from the majority of parents out there? 

We need to teach our young people that sex isn’t a joke, it isn’t something to take lightly-now I’m not saying one should only have sex in a long term relationship, not at all.  BUT you need to be willing to engage in a conversation.  You need to be willing to put your cards on the table.

“I’m attracted to you, but not looking for a long term relationship right now.”

“I’m attracted to you, but I DO want a serious relationship and casual sex is compromising my values.”

We need to tell our young people that HOPING someone can read your mind or HOPING someone gets it-isn’t good enough.  And that goes for both parties-we need to teach our young people to be clear about their hopes, and dreams, and their desires.

And we also need to teach them that sex isn’t a guarantee of a relationship.  Sleeping with someone doesn’t guarantee a ring and a nice home, and that IF you aren’t given that or your expectations aren’t met-it doesn’t mean something illegal took place.  It means you and the other party involved made a bad decision.  We need to stress that just because you ARE in a long term relationship that sex isn’t a right-IF either party says no, and is then forcibly made to participate in something they aren’t comfortable with THAT constitutes assault.  THAT is rape.  

And we need to make sure that our young people know that right now, yes, dating seems scary.  It makes you wonder if it’s worth it.  We need to make sure they know-it is!  Even when a relationship doesn’t work out-you can still learn from it.  You can still grow, you will still get to a point where you remember the good times, and you learn from the bad.  And ultimately all the rules boil down to one thing:

RESPECT. 

You respect your partner, you respect their wishes.  You respect the promises you made.  You respect yourself.  

[lifewithboys]

Normally, I wouldn’t do this

Normally, I’d ignore a troll on here-FB I’m always up for a good debate, but when it comes to my writings-it’s best to let things be.  My tone won’t be for everyone-people won’t get it-and that’s cool.  I write for myself for the most part.  Of course, I want people to enjoy it, but as a voracious reader myself I know that people won’t always like what I’m saying and vice versa.

But something really ticked me off.  I call this person a troll because their tumblr page has nothing on it, and they don’t seem all that willing to be forthcoming about who they are.

A few weeks ago I wrote a post-in jest-that some people didn’t seem to get.  In this post, I said I basically gave up and that IF my boys wanted to wear shorts in 40 degree weather-have at it.  One person thought I was actually upset at having lost this battle-I have five boys-this isn’t a battle.  And another accused me of child abuse.

Now, I take great offense to that.  I can be tough on my boys, I certainly let my annoyance show, but abusive?  Not on your life.  I stay home with them, and I pride myself on how they’ve turned out-angels?  Hardly. Good human beings?  You bet.

Now, telling me that I’m committing child abuse in relation to a post written in a sarcastic tone is silly at best, downright insulting and ignorant at it’s worst.  I’m going to put this person in the middle, because I think it’s a bored little kid flapping his gums.

So, to the spineless little person (could be a boy, could be a girl-who knows) that insulted me not only as a mother, but as a human let me assure you-my kids aren’t in danger of hypothermia for wearing shorts in 40 degree weather.  And next time you want to accuse someone of something as serious as child abuse-grow a pair and do it as yourself, don’t hide behind a faceless tumblr account.

[lifewithboys]

Yep, It’s About Bullying

I watched the video of a young boy.  He was in tears, and seemed sincere--and I say “seemed” because we got one side of the story, so stay with me here.  Keaton Jones captivated a nation.

Bullying is a serious issue--not only in our schools but on social media, in the workplace--and when a victim has had enough we’ve seen them strike out, sometimes in deadly fashion.

I don’t want to trivialize bullying. I’m not here to change your mind--only to share my thoughts.

First, I want to clarify that I don’t think one instance is bullying.  I exchanged words with another parent at a basketball game recently.  Was she acting like a bully?  Maybe. She was rude, then again I opened my mouth too.  Did I feel like a victim of bullying?  No. Because it wasn’t systematic.  I’ve seen the other parents twice since then--no big deal. We moved on.

Now, bullying can be defined different ways, by different people.  THIS is my definition, and my take.  It won’t mesh with everyone, some might call me heartless, but I feel like I need to say this.

As I’ve said many times before, Corey is gay.  He came out to Roy and I in ninth grade. We were fine with it.  We also respected his right to come out to others as he saw fit.  His friends in school knew about it, he never tried to hide it--and of course word got around.  Two young men ridiculed him incessantly.  Day in and day out.  Each and every day.  Roy and I talked to him about it, we told him to take the high road and brush it off, but that if he EVER felt threatened to stand his ground and then tell a teacher.  We told him if it ever got to be too much, to tell us.  And we let him know, that should he decide enough was enough and he had words or it delved into a fight--we understood.  He would have to take the punishment the school handed out, but we would understand.  Roy told him to NEVER start a fight, but do not let yourself be beaten.  And for two years, our son ignored them.  He brushed it off--the homophobic slurs, the ridicule--until one day he’d had enough.  The locker room in PE was always the worst he told us. The two boys said something to him and he stood up and said something back.  Nothing physical, but words were exchanged.  The two bullies couldn't take it, and went right to the counselor. Now here’s where things get dicey for us.  Was Corey right?  Probably not.  BUT, as so often happens, when a bully is met with the same force, they crumble.  They can’t believe someone stood up to them, and they run for the hills, or in this case the counselors’ office.  Now, Corey called during lunch and told me I would be getting a phone call.  He also wanted us to know that teachers had witnessed these boys insulting our son.  They did nothing.  Security officers had seen kids in the hallway, yelling out slurs to Corey--nothing.  So, this was a known issue and nothing was done.  Corey saw no point in tattling on these boys as he didn’t think they would be punished.  One could say, Corey should have pushed the matter.  He WAS being bullied, but he didn’t think it was worth it and until now he’d been able to ignore the taunts.  I discussed it with Roy, and we decided to just wait and see what would happen.

About an hour later I got a call. I listened while the counselor told me what happened.  I was then told that Corey would get two days of ISS.  I asked what the other boys were going to get.

“Nothing, why would they?”

I’ll never forget those words.  Did she assume that my son simply walked up to those two boys and called them prejudiced rednecks?  Just out of the blue?  He was bored, so he decided to throw that out and see what happened?  When I asked the counselor what the boys told her, she said that Corey insulted them, and that the school had a zero tolerance policy.  When I told her what those boys had done for years to my son--how the PE teacher had done nothing, the security guard had done nothing-hshe wasn’t surprised.  Her remark was, “Well, boys would be boys, and Corey should have said something.”

When I reminded her that the comments had been witnessed by teachers and other adults in the school and NOTHING was said or done, when I reminded her that because of that, my son didn’t see a point in telling anyone, her reply was... ”Well, the other boys did, soooo...”

And then I got angry.  And I pulled out the big guns.  I reminded her that these boys consistently came at my son with homophobic slurs, they ridiculed him daily for his sexual orientation, and then I asked her that if physical violence had taken place, it MIGHT be considered a hate crime--on school grounds.  She changed her tone quickly after that. ALL three boys would receive ISS.  I thanked her and hung up the phone.

To me that was bullying.  And though he’s my son, and I have his back, I don’t see Corey as the bully in this situation.  He’d had enough. He stood his ground, and what happened?  The bullies couldn’t believe it. They were amazed. 

Now, back to this little boy... It’s been speculated that his mother might be a racist. I’ve read from more than one reputable news outlet that the young man has been in trouble for calling children the “N” word--you know what word I mean, I’m not going to print it.  That he’s used homophobic slurs, and that his classmates had had enough.  Is this true?  I don’t know. Is this little boy being held accountable for his mother’s alleged actions?  Possibly. I don’t necessarily believe in sins of the father and all that, BUT if the mother is racist, is it so hard to imagine that this might be a learned behavior?  

It’s tough. We see a young boy hurting, crying, asking why?  And our hearts go out to him.  As a mother, I wonder if social media was the place for this to be knocked around.  My first instinct when I pick up my child isn’t to film them.  Has social media made it easier to portray yourself as a victim and look for handouts?  Is that what this woman did?

At no time when the older boys were little, we didn’t have the inclination to film our every move. Of course, Social Media wasn’t as big as it was now. But we certainly didn’t seek to profit from our misfortune.  As a mother, part of me is disgusted that this woman decided to film her son in pain, and then use it for attention.  Another part of me believes we need to take every opportunity to discuss the issue of bullying and the very real problem it is. Still another part of me thinks IF this young man was the bully in the past, is it simply karma?  

And then another part of me is sad--we see a young boy crying, and because of the ease at which we can get information now, so many of us are jaded.  We wonder if he’s lying.  If mom is just looking for money or attention.  At one time, we’d see a child cry and simply want to fix the problem, not so anymore.

But I guess the biggest issue is, IF this young man instigated confrontations before this and this was his victims finally having enough, was he bullied?  Does he also deserve our sympathy?  I can honestly say, I’m torn.  

[lifewithboys]

Poor Little Me

I’m going to keep this short, because there is a very real part of me that feels like maybe I shouldn’t complain, on the other hand there is another-very real part of me, that would be lying if I said I wasn’t kinda bitter.

A bit of backstory-I get it.  I’m a lucky woman.  NOt lucky in that I don’t work, but lucky in that I have a choice.  My husband has a strong career, he takes good care of us-and at one point it was very reasonable for one of us to stat home for the boys.  Five boys-school, sports, clubs, etc-and it made sense for that to be me.  Roy’s career provided us a good life, mine did not.

And I’m happy with my choice.  I look back and don’t regret giving up coaching, or finishing a degree.  I made sure to keep my own identity-I never simply saw myself as mom or Roy’s wife.  I was secure being Christina.  I was proud of who I was.  I learned all kinds of things as the boys grew-I learned math, and English.  I learned more about History and Science.  I also learned about little boys, I learned what made them tick.  I learned about my own strengths and weaknesses, and now that the boys are older I’ve started to do my own thing.  We, meaning Roy and I, volunteer for some local events to raise money for our little town.  We work hard and I enjoy it.

And here’s where my bitterness comes in.  Now, we’ve volunteered for these events for a few years-we attend all the meetings, and work the entire event.  And it’s hard work-I’m not kidding not only do you ruin shoes (Beer spilled on them isn’t fun) but you get yelled out by mean drunks, Roy has had beer spilled on him by drunk gals lamely trying to flirt with him.  I had to speak to a guy that was sexually harassing young women-and I’m not kidding, My feet still hurt from the even in APRIL.  (ok, not really, but my feet really hurt for at least a week) anyways.  Through this all, I’ve ponied up some ideas-ideas I’ve gotten from other festivals Roy and I attend, things I would have liked to see if I was a participant-these ideas have made quite a bit of money and on top of that were well received by the community.  I was proud of myself for speaking up and seeing something through.

So, fast forward as bit-a part time position opened up in the office.  Great hours for me-I could still be home for the boys.  And I figured, perhaps stupidly that I had an in.  They knew me. They knew I was a hard worker, they knew I was organized and that I had good ideas.  I went in for an interview-though I nailed it, and then I didn’t get the job.

Now, sitting here I get that I’m lucky.  I WANTED to work-for something to do, for something for me.  But it hurt to be ‘rejected.’  Especially by the very people that have profited from my ideas and hard work, granted the events are for the community, and they are popular, but I would be lying if I said a small part of me wasn’t bitter.

“You’ll take my ideas and run with them.  Give me no credit for them, which I’m ok with, but I’m not good enough to file and make coffee?”

And as I type that a part of me is ashamed of myself!  At 43, I should know better right?  It isn’t personal.  You win some, you lose some-that’s part of life.

But another part of me-REALLY wanted this!  I REALLY thought I had found the perfect spot.  They like my ideas, they appreciate all my help, so why not right?  

And another part of me, a part of me that’s not as small as I wished it was-wants to say, well “fork you then!  If you don’t want to hire me to run errands and clean, you can’t have any more of my ideas OR my help, and I’m gonna take my husband and older boys with me!”

But that’s petty, right?  (Yes i know it’s petty.....I’m kinda joking...)  I need to swallow my pride and be the bigger person, or rather I need to understand it’s probably not personal, and just pitch in and help...right?