Six months between posts; nope, we'll never win an award. But those six months have been packed with traveling, seeing more of everything there is to see than the kids bargained for. They're tired now and are ready to get back to a real life. And frankly, we are not the greatest home teachers, so getting them into school will be a good thing for everyone.
Some of what we've done has been building a house in the place we'd like to retire to; rather my cousins have been building, we've just been saying yes or no and writing the checks. By the time Alex is done with this school year the house will be ready and we'll finish moving. There's not a lot to move; we're leaving this house behind with furnishings and will rent it out, so mostly what's being boxed up are personal items.
No one is looking forward to moving with 4 cats and a dog again, but at least this time it won't be across an ocean. Nope, we're not going back to the U.S., but I am going home.
I thought Char's dad would be heading back to the U.S., but he's enjoying the life he's discovered and is moving with us. Alex will come for the summer and then head back to school. He's done well studying in residence and never seemed to need us when we were gone; he has Erin and Mikko and we'll be a not too far flight away.
Leaving them behind is what will be the most difficult; I'm used to seeing them and the grandkids on a whim, and that's going away.
Kevin and Rachel, though, they need to be in school with other kids. Rachel wants to drive and hasn't had the chance to even start, since we've been on the road so much, and Kevin misses dance classes. By moving, the kids will have ready made friends with my family while they get used to the area and meet other people, and one of my cousins has already found a terrific dance academy for Kevin. It's a place to start, anyway.
I'm not sure how often we'll be able to get back to this blog, at least not until we're settled, but we're still out here and alive, and everyone is well.
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
F-Bomb Awesome
When I went home this summer to take care of the odds and ends of a house burnt down, I also learned of the horrible news that one of my closest friends, Dack, had just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, and that he had, at best—six months to live. He was as upbeat as he could be, having decided that he didn’t want to spend any part of those months in treatment, trying to survive something he most likely would not. He stated quite factually that he was sixty years old and had packed more into those years than most; his only regret was in not meeting and marrying Theresa years earlier. Leaving her behind was what mattered. He didn’t want to, but also refused to burden her with caring for him longer than necessary. Quality mattered more than quantity.
This, I understood.
I swore to him I would come back before it was too late; I wanted to spend some quality time with the man who has been every bit as much a brother to me as has my own. We met when I was 22, and over the years he has been my mentor, my protector, my friend, and my brother. I knew that trip would be hard, because saying goodbye is something I hate to do, but I was set to leave in a little over a week.
The phone rang in the middle of the night last night, and Char was the one to grab it. She managed to whisper It’s Theresa before she started crying, and I took the phone from her, not wanting to, not wanting at all to hear that Dack had been cheated out of four of the months he thought he had. And that I hadn’t gotten back in time.
They were wrong, they made a mistake, there’s nothing wrong with him except a really bad gall bladder and an intestinal stricture. He’s fine, he’ll be fine, he’s not going to die, not this year.
Dack avoided his doctor after his diagnoses, because he just didn’t want to be talked into doing anything. But yesterday he was in enough pain for Theresa to take him to the ER, where a doctor other than his own took the time to look for other causes of pain. He had an ultrasound, CT, blood work, everything they could throw at him, and there was no sign of cancer. No sign of anything, other than a gall bladder filled with stones, and a stricture in his colon that probably added to his general everyday pain.
He had his gall bladder removed and should be home today.
I told Theresa I was still coming back, because I need to celebrate this complete turn in Dack’s life; she told me to stay put, because he wants to come to us instead. He wants to see the kids, the dog and the cats, and he wants to show Theresa some of the places he’s been before and loved.
Hopefully, that will happen in November. And no bones about it, I will cry like a little girl when I see him.
This, I understood.
I swore to him I would come back before it was too late; I wanted to spend some quality time with the man who has been every bit as much a brother to me as has my own. We met when I was 22, and over the years he has been my mentor, my protector, my friend, and my brother. I knew that trip would be hard, because saying goodbye is something I hate to do, but I was set to leave in a little over a week.
The phone rang in the middle of the night last night, and Char was the one to grab it. She managed to whisper It’s Theresa before she started crying, and I took the phone from her, not wanting to, not wanting at all to hear that Dack had been cheated out of four of the months he thought he had. And that I hadn’t gotten back in time.
They were wrong, they made a mistake, there’s nothing wrong with him except a really bad gall bladder and an intestinal stricture. He’s fine, he’ll be fine, he’s not going to die, not this year.
Dack avoided his doctor after his diagnoses, because he just didn’t want to be talked into doing anything. But yesterday he was in enough pain for Theresa to take him to the ER, where a doctor other than his own took the time to look for other causes of pain. He had an ultrasound, CT, blood work, everything they could throw at him, and there was no sign of cancer. No sign of anything, other than a gall bladder filled with stones, and a stricture in his colon that probably added to his general everyday pain.
He had his gall bladder removed and should be home today.
I told Theresa I was still coming back, because I need to celebrate this complete turn in Dack’s life; she told me to stay put, because he wants to come to us instead. He wants to see the kids, the dog and the cats, and he wants to show Theresa some of the places he’s been before and loved.
Hopefully, that will happen in November. And no bones about it, I will cry like a little girl when I see him.
Friday, August 31, 2012
The last five months.
We moved. Packed up most of what we owned and put it in storage, sold off vehicles and toys long outgrown, shipped off things that would not fit in suitcases, said “See you later” to friends, turned the keys to the house over to my brother, and left.
We spent the summer getting to know the area, getting the kids adjusted to a house much smaller than they have been used to, and helping them ease through the missing of their closest friends. Kevin and Rachel are thriving here so far, although he misses Elizabeth something fiercely, and she is having texting withdrawal. Alex has been unusually quiet, filled with an expected mixture of excitement and trepidation, torn between wanting to go home and wanting school to finally start.
We spent the summer getting to know the area, getting the kids adjusted to a house much smaller than they have been used to, and helping them ease through the missing of their closest friends. Kevin and Rachel are thriving here so far, although he misses Elizabeth something fiercely, and she is having texting withdrawal. Alex has been unusually quiet, filled with an expected mixture of excitement and trepidation, torn between wanting to go home and wanting school to finally start.
We were prepared for this move to be the absolutely wrong move for at least two of the kids, and had agreed that if, by the end of summer, they were miserable, we would pack up and go home. But somewhere along the line parts of the US erupted in wildfires, and Craig called to let us know that while everyone was all right, our house was not.
I flew back for two weeks to address the damage, which was extensive. The house was not 100% destroyed, but enough that the only recourse was to have it razed to the foundation. We’ve made no decisions on rebuilding, because there’s no hurry to. But it removed the option of just going home; the kids are happy here, so it was less an issue as it could have been.
Craig and Frankie are fine; our affected neighbors are fine other than the loss of their homes. Alex’s main concern was Stephanie; her home was not fine, but she and her father have been able to relocate. Dack and Theresa, TK and Becky, they were all out of the path of the destruction. I’d like to say they are all fine, but Dack is not as well as he was when we first left, and I fear I will be flying back soon to be sure that I am able to spend some quality time with him before saying goodbye.
(I know he will read this; he knows his reality. He will snort that I don’t need to come back, but Dack is a brother of my heart, and I will. He may not need me to; I need me to.)
Earlier this week I drove Alex to school, where he will reside in the dorms; he threw up three times on the way there and expressed some doubt about the wisdom of his grand plan to achieve independence, and I resisted to impulse to tell him he wasn’t obligated to get out of the car and take those first steps. He’s only sixteen; granted, he turns seventeen in just a few days, but for right now he’s my sixteen year old son and I am not at all thrilled that he’s already halfway gone.
He has been generous in consideration to his mother and has called her every day, but has already gently warned her than once classes begin he probably won’t be able to. He has also promised that she would see him on weekends, and that Miko would see him every day and report to her if something seems wrong.
Still, he’s begun the process of pulling away. It’s the right thing, but that doesn’t make it sting any less.
Our intention is still to travel with Rachel and Kevin, but we’re not going anywhere until Alex is well settled into school, and then we’ll play it by ear. They’re making friends here and we’d like to see them dig in a bit before taking off. Brad is also a factor; while we travel he plans on staying in the house and taking care of the cats (four of them now) and the dog, but for the next few weeks he’s in South Africa with Nika and Peter.
I think they will be our first stop when we do decide to go somewhere.
All in all, it’s going well. And no, I’m still not telling you where we are. I will tell you that it’s pushing 1 a.m. here as I finish this up. That should narrow it down for you.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Don't Wrap Him in Cotton; He'll Look Like a Tampon
How can you possibly justify sending your son off to school, and then basically tag along? What good comes of uprooting the rest of the family just to be nearby one child “just in case?” He'll have his cousin right there, so why not just let him go?
This has been the undercurrent of many conversations of late, it's not verbatim quotations, merely paraphrasing. Friends are genuinely surprised that we would be willing to just pull up stakes and move to another country with what appears to be little extended consideration. I understand that. My answer, for the most part, has been it worked for my parents, so why shouldn't I give it a try?
My parents didn't leave Ireland on a whim, but it certainly appeared so from the vantage point of outsiders. They'd first discussed it after the death of one of my sisters; in the grip of crushing grief, they wanted out, they both itched to remove themselves from a house echoing in loss, and began to save money in order to do that. They spent years dreaming about where they would go; by the time I was two years old they felt as if they could afford to move, and they picked the place they thought would give their kids the greatest shot at a better life.
Their friends were somewhat surprised; life elsewhere had been mentioned in off-handed ways, but never as a certainty. But from the moment they understood that they needed to experience life elsewhere, someplace they could begin to heal, they knew they were leaving. Their plans began with an inward need, but the decision to specifically live and work in the U.S. was deliberately in favor of what was best for their kids. I am Irish by birth, but American by my parents' choice, and for that I am grateful.
It's because they made that choice that I am able to even entertain the idea of packing up my family and moving them thousands of miles away; it is by their example that I see the benefits my children will reap by taking this step.
For Char and I, this isn't much different from what my parents did. When the kids were all still very young we began discussing the possibility that someday we would live at least part-time in Ireland. Our intention was retirement and travel, while knowing our kids were grown, educated, and doing well on their own. We didn't foresee that Alex would have the opportunities that have come his way, and that they have has opened our eyes to other possibilities.
This truly is not overprotective parents following their child in order to protect him from the world, although I certainly see how it might look that way. If not for Rachel's and Kevin's keen and expressed interest in seeing more of the world they live in, as hard as it would be Char and I would not stand in Alex's way. If not for the idea that we can give all our kids something more than bits and pieces of vacations crammed into not enough time for them to see everything we would like and everything they're interested in, we would have encouraged Alex to go, and we would have accepted that he was on his own in nearly every sense of the word.
For all intents and purposes, he'll still be on his own; he'll be studying in residence, and we won't be so close that he can leave school on a whim. He will have Erin and Miko close by, but by intent Char and I are not going to live that close by. And much of the time we won't be there.
Our retirement plans included a heavy amount of travel; looking at it now, though, it seems to be a better idea to take Kevin and Rachel along, expand their education to a classroom that goes far beyond four walls with occasional breaks for lunch an P.E. We're buying a house within 45 minutes of the school Alex will attend, but our plans have us on the road a good part of the time, allowing his brother and sister the chance to explore and to learn far more about the world that exists outside of U.S. media and their ancient textbooks.
Once the next school year rolls around, we're going to try homeschooling; they're excited about it, and we've promised them one year. If it goes well, we'll continue. If not, we'll make a decision about where to land and enroll them in school. Either back in the U.S. or in schools near where we're moving to (no, sorry, we are not saying. You'd be disappointed if we did, anyway.) If we continue beyond the year and they finish their education this way, then Char and I will decide what to do with ourselves; stay put, follow the original plan and build a house in Ireland, or come back and kick Craig out of our house.
With Erin and Miko leaving and Nika and Peter heading back to his home, it just feels like time for us to go. Over the last few years we've divested ourselves of responsibility of the dojang and I am far enough removed from my job to be certain I'll never go back to it, so the only things holding us here are a few friends and the house. The house is taken care of and the friends we can maintain contact with. Selling the cars and motorcycles will be a pain in the ass, but that's still minor.
Really, the most difficult aspect of this will be moving the dog and the cats; I refuse to take them as cargo, so we'll have to see how this plays out. We may be taking four separate flights, if that's what it takes.
This has been the undercurrent of many conversations of late, it's not verbatim quotations, merely paraphrasing. Friends are genuinely surprised that we would be willing to just pull up stakes and move to another country with what appears to be little extended consideration. I understand that. My answer, for the most part, has been it worked for my parents, so why shouldn't I give it a try?
My parents didn't leave Ireland on a whim, but it certainly appeared so from the vantage point of outsiders. They'd first discussed it after the death of one of my sisters; in the grip of crushing grief, they wanted out, they both itched to remove themselves from a house echoing in loss, and began to save money in order to do that. They spent years dreaming about where they would go; by the time I was two years old they felt as if they could afford to move, and they picked the place they thought would give their kids the greatest shot at a better life.
Their friends were somewhat surprised; life elsewhere had been mentioned in off-handed ways, but never as a certainty. But from the moment they understood that they needed to experience life elsewhere, someplace they could begin to heal, they knew they were leaving. Their plans began with an inward need, but the decision to specifically live and work in the U.S. was deliberately in favor of what was best for their kids. I am Irish by birth, but American by my parents' choice, and for that I am grateful.
It's because they made that choice that I am able to even entertain the idea of packing up my family and moving them thousands of miles away; it is by their example that I see the benefits my children will reap by taking this step.
For Char and I, this isn't much different from what my parents did. When the kids were all still very young we began discussing the possibility that someday we would live at least part-time in Ireland. Our intention was retirement and travel, while knowing our kids were grown, educated, and doing well on their own. We didn't foresee that Alex would have the opportunities that have come his way, and that they have has opened our eyes to other possibilities.
This truly is not overprotective parents following their child in order to protect him from the world, although I certainly see how it might look that way. If not for Rachel's and Kevin's keen and expressed interest in seeing more of the world they live in, as hard as it would be Char and I would not stand in Alex's way. If not for the idea that we can give all our kids something more than bits and pieces of vacations crammed into not enough time for them to see everything we would like and everything they're interested in, we would have encouraged Alex to go, and we would have accepted that he was on his own in nearly every sense of the word.
For all intents and purposes, he'll still be on his own; he'll be studying in residence, and we won't be so close that he can leave school on a whim. He will have Erin and Miko close by, but by intent Char and I are not going to live that close by. And much of the time we won't be there.
Our retirement plans included a heavy amount of travel; looking at it now, though, it seems to be a better idea to take Kevin and Rachel along, expand their education to a classroom that goes far beyond four walls with occasional breaks for lunch an P.E. We're buying a house within 45 minutes of the school Alex will attend, but our plans have us on the road a good part of the time, allowing his brother and sister the chance to explore and to learn far more about the world that exists outside of U.S. media and their ancient textbooks.
Once the next school year rolls around, we're going to try homeschooling; they're excited about it, and we've promised them one year. If it goes well, we'll continue. If not, we'll make a decision about where to land and enroll them in school. Either back in the U.S. or in schools near where we're moving to (no, sorry, we are not saying. You'd be disappointed if we did, anyway.) If we continue beyond the year and they finish their education this way, then Char and I will decide what to do with ourselves; stay put, follow the original plan and build a house in Ireland, or come back and kick Craig out of our house.
With Erin and Miko leaving and Nika and Peter heading back to his home, it just feels like time for us to go. Over the last few years we've divested ourselves of responsibility of the dojang and I am far enough removed from my job to be certain I'll never go back to it, so the only things holding us here are a few friends and the house. The house is taken care of and the friends we can maintain contact with. Selling the cars and motorcycles will be a pain in the ass, but that's still minor.
Really, the most difficult aspect of this will be moving the dog and the cats; I refuse to take them as cargo, so we'll have to see how this plays out. We may be taking four separate flights, if that's what it takes.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Bizzy, Yo
Busy is an understatement. The last 2 months have been packed, much of it with Char's surgery and recovery, a lot of it with Alex's educational issues.
Right off the bat, Char had hip replacement surgery on February 1st and it went well; she didn't spend a lot of time in the hospital, was up and moving around with a walker in a little over a week, started rehab, killed rehab, and is now getting around just fine on her own. She still aches and still requires PT, but everything went far better than we had hoped and were led to believe it would go.
In the middle of all this Alex has been sweating about which colleges he'd applied to would send acceptance letters and which would send regrets; he fielded numerous calls about his interests and Brad accompanied him on several trips for interviews. He has been genuinely torn, because he has available to him several tremendous opportunities, and he has been conflicted about the direction he wants to go.
Everything came down to two important things: the chance to study abroad, and not wanting to leave everyone behind. He'd been genuinely excited about the prospect of living overseas and having his family close by. Rachel and Kevin had also become very excited. Hell, so had Char and I. We pushed the idea aside when it was clear that she had to have surgery soon, and when her doctor thought she would require months of recovery.
She's doing far better than expected. By the time the school year rolls over, she's likely to be at full recovery.
So, we're likely moving. Every member of this family wants to go, even if only for a year or two. Alex, Miko, and I are heading off to look for places to live while Brad stays here to help Char out, and while we're there Alex will decide between two universities that have offered him a place there.
All the pieces are falling so neatly into place that it makes no sense to not take this opportunity. The biggest worries Char and I had, leaving an empty house and leaving my brother behind, were solved easily enough with Craig's offer to move in for the duration. Frankie will be moving in with him and is possibly more determined than I to make sure he stays clean and sober.
It's not 100%; that will depend on what I find when Miko and I are looking for homes. But I've seen enough of the city to know that we'll find something good, even if temporary.
The kids are excited; I don't think they've truly considered what it will be like to leave their friends behind, but for now they're thrilled.
And oddly enough, I feel relief.
Right off the bat, Char had hip replacement surgery on February 1st and it went well; she didn't spend a lot of time in the hospital, was up and moving around with a walker in a little over a week, started rehab, killed rehab, and is now getting around just fine on her own. She still aches and still requires PT, but everything went far better than we had hoped and were led to believe it would go.
In the middle of all this Alex has been sweating about which colleges he'd applied to would send acceptance letters and which would send regrets; he fielded numerous calls about his interests and Brad accompanied him on several trips for interviews. He has been genuinely torn, because he has available to him several tremendous opportunities, and he has been conflicted about the direction he wants to go.
Everything came down to two important things: the chance to study abroad, and not wanting to leave everyone behind. He'd been genuinely excited about the prospect of living overseas and having his family close by. Rachel and Kevin had also become very excited. Hell, so had Char and I. We pushed the idea aside when it was clear that she had to have surgery soon, and when her doctor thought she would require months of recovery.
She's doing far better than expected. By the time the school year rolls over, she's likely to be at full recovery.
So, we're likely moving. Every member of this family wants to go, even if only for a year or two. Alex, Miko, and I are heading off to look for places to live while Brad stays here to help Char out, and while we're there Alex will decide between two universities that have offered him a place there.
All the pieces are falling so neatly into place that it makes no sense to not take this opportunity. The biggest worries Char and I had, leaving an empty house and leaving my brother behind, were solved easily enough with Craig's offer to move in for the duration. Frankie will be moving in with him and is possibly more determined than I to make sure he stays clean and sober.
It's not 100%; that will depend on what I find when Miko and I are looking for homes. But I've seen enough of the city to know that we'll find something good, even if temporary.
The kids are excited; I don't think they've truly considered what it will be like to leave their friends behind, but for now they're thrilled.
And oddly enough, I feel relief.
Friday, January 13, 2012
That didn't last long
Alex and I were making plans to go visit his potential next school and scope out the city for possible property for the family, and what the schools would be like for Rachel and Kevin. Then he started getting phone calls from other schools, feelers for follow-ups on his expressed interest in attending; long story short, he’s got viable, incredible options that would keep him on U.S. soil.
In the long run, that might be better, because Char’s checkups this week were not as stellar as we’d hoped, and she’s facing some significant surgery and rehab this year. Because of the accident two and a half years ago, she has avascular necrosis of the femoral head, and it’s reached the point of necessary replacement. She’s been in increasing pain and is losing mobility, so it has to be done. And we would prefer it be done here where we’re familiar with the doctors and hospital.
That doesn’t mean Alex is limited to U.S. schools. If going with Erin and Miko is what will get him the best education, he’ll go. Rachel and Kevin are understandably disappointed, but they understand. If Alex does go, we’ll be visiting and spending the summer traveling; if he ultimately chooses a state-side school, we can still take them to explore the places they’re interested in.
The hard part is going to be Erin, Miko, and the grandkids leaving. And then getting Char through everything she’s facing. She doesn’t seem fazed at all by it; it’s something that has to be done and she’d like to get it over with and get the rehab underway.
I wish I had half her strength.
In the long run, that might be better, because Char’s checkups this week were not as stellar as we’d hoped, and she’s facing some significant surgery and rehab this year. Because of the accident two and a half years ago, she has avascular necrosis of the femoral head, and it’s reached the point of necessary replacement. She’s been in increasing pain and is losing mobility, so it has to be done. And we would prefer it be done here where we’re familiar with the doctors and hospital.
That doesn’t mean Alex is limited to U.S. schools. If going with Erin and Miko is what will get him the best education, he’ll go. Rachel and Kevin are understandably disappointed, but they understand. If Alex does go, we’ll be visiting and spending the summer traveling; if he ultimately chooses a state-side school, we can still take them to explore the places they’re interested in.
The hard part is going to be Erin, Miko, and the grandkids leaving. And then getting Char through everything she’s facing. She doesn’t seem fazed at all by it; it’s something that has to be done and she’d like to get it over with and get the rehab underway.
I wish I had half her strength.
Saturday, January 7, 2012
Ch-ch-ch-changes?
Over the holidays, we found ourselves staring into news we didn't want (but that was good for Erin and Miko), a possibility Alex did want (but we did not), and surprises from Rachel and Kevin about the aforementioned news and possibility. It came towards us with a not unexpected announcement from Brad: he's selling the bar and retiring.
What we don't want: Miko's job has presented him with the chance to take his family overseas; most of what he does goes over my head, but the meat of it is that he'll be leading a research team, as well as teaching. He can't not take the position; the opportunity is solid and will advance his career, whereas staying here will stall it in the next few years. This opportunity opened up, for Alex, the very real possibility of attending school overseas as well. It affords him an education undistracted by anything other than his field of study, and while he would be there in residence, Erin and Miko would be a phone call away.
Knowing what the opportunity means for his future, we didn't say no right off the bat; it's big enough that significant consideration must be weighed, his needs versus our fears, what he wants versus what would be the right thing. Every logical argument we could make leaning in either direction eventually ended with the realization that we can't stand in his way on this.
Rachel and Kevin's initial reaction: are we moving? I presumed that they would be relieved that the answer was no. We would stay here and let them finish school; we've discussed eventually living part-time in Ireland, but every intention has us waiting until the kids are all grown. But they surprised us; it's not fair, they each said in their own way, that Alex gets to see more of the world and they don't. I believed that was knee-jerk jealousy, but neither intended it to be. Rachel claims there is nothing here that she wouldn't have there; the world is a much smaller place with email and Facebook, and she pointed out that the friends she's closest to, the girls with whom she can share everything, moved away two and three years ago, and online is how they keep in touch.
Kevin would be leaving a lot behind; his dance school, friends he is extremely tight with, and there's Elizabeth. But still, when playing with the idea in his head, he's all for moving. There are places to learn to dance there. He can keep in touch with Elizabeth.
Their enthusiasm was unexpected, but still, we were not considering picking up and moving to another country simply because Alex wants to go to school there, or because Erin and Miko and the grandkids are going.
We were still at the "we're thinking about it" point with Alex and had not told him yes or no, when Peter and Nika announced that upon her graduation in May they are headed back to South Africa. Brad, who has resolutely refused to consider traveling any further than California to visit his family, decided it was time for him to get a passport, so that he would be able to visit. Alex jokingly told him if he wanted, he could live with him in a dorm room and bounce between there and Johannesburg; instead of blowing him off, Brad mused that if the "whole fucking family" was going, he would, too.
And then it was laid out in front of us. Erin and Miko are going, regardless. Alex is going for at least 3-4 years. Nika and Peter are leaving. Rachel and Kevin--at least for now--want to live somewhere different, and they want the chance to see more of the world. When we balanced everything, we realized there is truly nothing keeping us here, other than friendships and familiarity. Neither of us is tied to a job; I have business investments that can, for the most part, be handled from wherever I happen to be, and I could accommodate in-person needs with a plane ticket and rental car.
We tried to decide what was holding us back; the fact that it was the kids that championed the idea, or that deep down we felt a move was not a good idea, and we kept coming back to the notion that we were reluctant simply because it felt slightly backwards to have the kids pushing for this.
We're still not decided. It doesn't make sense to hold Alex back, but we're now grappling with the fundamentals of whether or not picking up and leaving everything behind would be in the kids' best interests. That's what it comes down to; what's best for them.
Alex has struggled the last couple of months with what he wants to ultimately do: transfer to an out of state school, or stay here and get his degree from a local university. He wants the best education he can get, but he also doesn't want to leave Stephanie behind. This chance to study abroad, however, cleared things up for him. He knows that right now his education comes first, he also knows that with effort he can stay connected to her, and if it's meant to be, they'll figure it out later. I wondered how he felt about the idea--even if it is a remote concept right now--that his entire family could follow him, if there would be (and perhaps rightfully so) resentment. Yet he expressed some relief; whether we follow or not, he'll be there in residence, he wouldn't live with us. But we would be right there, and as he put it, I'm only going to be seventeen, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that much of just me.
Everyone wants to go; I'm not sure why we're dragging out feet on a final decision. It'll come to me sooner rather than later, I suppose.
What we don't want: Miko's job has presented him with the chance to take his family overseas; most of what he does goes over my head, but the meat of it is that he'll be leading a research team, as well as teaching. He can't not take the position; the opportunity is solid and will advance his career, whereas staying here will stall it in the next few years. This opportunity opened up, for Alex, the very real possibility of attending school overseas as well. It affords him an education undistracted by anything other than his field of study, and while he would be there in residence, Erin and Miko would be a phone call away.
Knowing what the opportunity means for his future, we didn't say no right off the bat; it's big enough that significant consideration must be weighed, his needs versus our fears, what he wants versus what would be the right thing. Every logical argument we could make leaning in either direction eventually ended with the realization that we can't stand in his way on this.
Rachel and Kevin's initial reaction: are we moving? I presumed that they would be relieved that the answer was no. We would stay here and let them finish school; we've discussed eventually living part-time in Ireland, but every intention has us waiting until the kids are all grown. But they surprised us; it's not fair, they each said in their own way, that Alex gets to see more of the world and they don't. I believed that was knee-jerk jealousy, but neither intended it to be. Rachel claims there is nothing here that she wouldn't have there; the world is a much smaller place with email and Facebook, and she pointed out that the friends she's closest to, the girls with whom she can share everything, moved away two and three years ago, and online is how they keep in touch.
Kevin would be leaving a lot behind; his dance school, friends he is extremely tight with, and there's Elizabeth. But still, when playing with the idea in his head, he's all for moving. There are places to learn to dance there. He can keep in touch with Elizabeth.
Their enthusiasm was unexpected, but still, we were not considering picking up and moving to another country simply because Alex wants to go to school there, or because Erin and Miko and the grandkids are going.
We were still at the "we're thinking about it" point with Alex and had not told him yes or no, when Peter and Nika announced that upon her graduation in May they are headed back to South Africa. Brad, who has resolutely refused to consider traveling any further than California to visit his family, decided it was time for him to get a passport, so that he would be able to visit. Alex jokingly told him if he wanted, he could live with him in a dorm room and bounce between there and Johannesburg; instead of blowing him off, Brad mused that if the "whole fucking family" was going, he would, too.
And then it was laid out in front of us. Erin and Miko are going, regardless. Alex is going for at least 3-4 years. Nika and Peter are leaving. Rachel and Kevin--at least for now--want to live somewhere different, and they want the chance to see more of the world. When we balanced everything, we realized there is truly nothing keeping us here, other than friendships and familiarity. Neither of us is tied to a job; I have business investments that can, for the most part, be handled from wherever I happen to be, and I could accommodate in-person needs with a plane ticket and rental car.
We tried to decide what was holding us back; the fact that it was the kids that championed the idea, or that deep down we felt a move was not a good idea, and we kept coming back to the notion that we were reluctant simply because it felt slightly backwards to have the kids pushing for this.
We're still not decided. It doesn't make sense to hold Alex back, but we're now grappling with the fundamentals of whether or not picking up and leaving everything behind would be in the kids' best interests. That's what it comes down to; what's best for them.
Alex has struggled the last couple of months with what he wants to ultimately do: transfer to an out of state school, or stay here and get his degree from a local university. He wants the best education he can get, but he also doesn't want to leave Stephanie behind. This chance to study abroad, however, cleared things up for him. He knows that right now his education comes first, he also knows that with effort he can stay connected to her, and if it's meant to be, they'll figure it out later. I wondered how he felt about the idea--even if it is a remote concept right now--that his entire family could follow him, if there would be (and perhaps rightfully so) resentment. Yet he expressed some relief; whether we follow or not, he'll be there in residence, he wouldn't live with us. But we would be right there, and as he put it, I'm only going to be seventeen, and I'm not sure I'm ready for that much of just me.
Everyone wants to go; I'm not sure why we're dragging out feet on a final decision. It'll come to me sooner rather than later, I suppose.
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Merry Christmas, Everyone
Weeks ago, I promised Toni I would take her Christmas shopping so that she could buy gifts for her parents without her parents being around. This is the first year she’s been really aware that they just might like to be surprised, and she’s smart enough to know that if she lacks enough money, Grandpa will make up the shortfall. That latter part is probably why she was very specific in asking me to take her and not Char. Char is a mom; moms make you consider the actual dollar amount in your wallet before letting you pick something out.
This was before I broke my foot; we took the kids skiing a couple of weeks ago and due to a poor choice in foot attire while trying out a snow bike, I managed to break a couple of bones in my foot. Minor breaks, but it still hurts a bit. I could have backed out, but I’m not an invalid and this wasn’t going to kill me, so Alex and I sucked it up and took her to the mall.
We hadn’t been inside for more than five minutes when I had a sudden and acute flashback to taking a three year old Alex Christmas shopping at the same mall. We’d barely gotten inside when he spied a very large red kettle and noted people putting money into it, and wanted to know why. He accepted that people sometimes need a little extra help buying food and clothing, and was fine with that, but just past the kettle was a collection point for Toys for Tots, manned by Marines in dress uniform. He was curious; why did those soldiers have all those toys?
The explanation that some people didn’t have enough money to buy presents for their kids made him sink to his knees, and he cried from deep down, so broken over what had occurred to him that it took several minutes before I was able to understand what had upset him. He got it: there were kids out there who didn’t have toys to play with, and if those soldiers were collecting toys, that meant that there were kids who were going to have a very bad Christmas, and worse—there was no Santa Claus.
He was three years old and even then too smart for his own good. Toni doesn’t share his rapid-fire ability to put mental puzzle pieces together, but I knew that kettle was going to be there, and just beyond that it, there was going to be a collection table for toys and Toni was going to want an explanation.
The red kettle was not a mystery to her; she’s seen then in front of grocery stores and is familiar with bell ringers. All she wanted was a dollar to put in it, and then grabbed Alex by the hand to pull him along. I hoped she would be oblivious to the men in uniform I could see just a hundred feet or so ahead, but it was like she zoned in on them, and wanted to know the same thing Alex had. What are they doing?
Before I could answer, Alex did. People bring toys to them, and they make sure those toys get to little kids who don’t get a lot for Christmas.
Oh, so those are some of Santa’s helpers?
If I had thought of that 13 years ago, one little boy might not have had the joy of believing in Santa ripped away from him. She was content with the belief that Santa makes good use of helpers, and just wanted to get down to shopping. Alex asked her if she wanted to go buy a couple of toys—his treat—and give them to the Marines, and she lit up. Of course she did.
Toni doesn’t have many more years of believing in Santa; she’s almost 9 years old and I suspect she has her doubts, but I didn’t have it in me to be there when she voiced a certainty to those doubts. I was grateful to my son for being quick enough to give her a better explanation than I'd had for him when he was three. He was able to turn it into something good; from then on, we’ve taken an annual shopping trip together—the last couple of years including Kevin—and have bought toys for donation. It was his idea and he saves a little money all year long for it. But I would still like to turn back the clock and give him the explanation he gave to Toni, and keep his belief intact for a few more years.
In another hour or so this house will begin to fill with family; Erin and Miko are bringing their kids, Craig is bringing Frankie, Brad is bringing some 18 year old scotch (this year, Craig is fine with it around), Nika and Peter, Dack and Theresa, TK and Becky and their kids—everyone in our daily lives that matters will be here; it will be loud and obnoxious, and a definite kind of wonderful.
And later on, Erin and Miko will take the kids home so that Santa can find them, because for now Toni still believes, and she can’t wait.
This was before I broke my foot; we took the kids skiing a couple of weeks ago and due to a poor choice in foot attire while trying out a snow bike, I managed to break a couple of bones in my foot. Minor breaks, but it still hurts a bit. I could have backed out, but I’m not an invalid and this wasn’t going to kill me, so Alex and I sucked it up and took her to the mall.
We hadn’t been inside for more than five minutes when I had a sudden and acute flashback to taking a three year old Alex Christmas shopping at the same mall. We’d barely gotten inside when he spied a very large red kettle and noted people putting money into it, and wanted to know why. He accepted that people sometimes need a little extra help buying food and clothing, and was fine with that, but just past the kettle was a collection point for Toys for Tots, manned by Marines in dress uniform. He was curious; why did those soldiers have all those toys?
The explanation that some people didn’t have enough money to buy presents for their kids made him sink to his knees, and he cried from deep down, so broken over what had occurred to him that it took several minutes before I was able to understand what had upset him. He got it: there were kids out there who didn’t have toys to play with, and if those soldiers were collecting toys, that meant that there were kids who were going to have a very bad Christmas, and worse—there was no Santa Claus.
He was three years old and even then too smart for his own good. Toni doesn’t share his rapid-fire ability to put mental puzzle pieces together, but I knew that kettle was going to be there, and just beyond that it, there was going to be a collection table for toys and Toni was going to want an explanation.
The red kettle was not a mystery to her; she’s seen then in front of grocery stores and is familiar with bell ringers. All she wanted was a dollar to put in it, and then grabbed Alex by the hand to pull him along. I hoped she would be oblivious to the men in uniform I could see just a hundred feet or so ahead, but it was like she zoned in on them, and wanted to know the same thing Alex had. What are they doing?
Before I could answer, Alex did. People bring toys to them, and they make sure those toys get to little kids who don’t get a lot for Christmas.
Oh, so those are some of Santa’s helpers?
If I had thought of that 13 years ago, one little boy might not have had the joy of believing in Santa ripped away from him. She was content with the belief that Santa makes good use of helpers, and just wanted to get down to shopping. Alex asked her if she wanted to go buy a couple of toys—his treat—and give them to the Marines, and she lit up. Of course she did.
Toni doesn’t have many more years of believing in Santa; she’s almost 9 years old and I suspect she has her doubts, but I didn’t have it in me to be there when she voiced a certainty to those doubts. I was grateful to my son for being quick enough to give her a better explanation than I'd had for him when he was three. He was able to turn it into something good; from then on, we’ve taken an annual shopping trip together—the last couple of years including Kevin—and have bought toys for donation. It was his idea and he saves a little money all year long for it. But I would still like to turn back the clock and give him the explanation he gave to Toni, and keep his belief intact for a few more years.
In another hour or so this house will begin to fill with family; Erin and Miko are bringing their kids, Craig is bringing Frankie, Brad is bringing some 18 year old scotch (this year, Craig is fine with it around), Nika and Peter, Dack and Theresa, TK and Becky and their kids—everyone in our daily lives that matters will be here; it will be loud and obnoxious, and a definite kind of wonderful.
And later on, Erin and Miko will take the kids home so that Santa can find them, because for now Toni still believes, and she can’t wait.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
So basically, I have chauffeurs
I thought every psychological thing from the accident two and a half years ago was behind me. But yesterday we were at a stoplight and the sound of squealing tires made me flinch so hard I nearly went from the passenger seat right into Ian's lap, and I started shaking so hard and breathing so hard that he pulled into the first parking lot he could to give me some time to calm down and catch my breath.
We went into a nearby fast food place because I was damn well going to cave into the want of a chocolate shake while I fought to calm down and as we sat there I told him I thought this was all over with and that I'd mostly forgotten about it, but the look on his face said something else.
"You only drive if you have to. Since Alex got his license you drive even less. Your motorcycle has only 400 miles on it and I've put a hundred on it just to keep the battery charged."
I hadn't noticed, but he's right. I don't know why he's never pushed me to get behind the wheel more often or take the bike out, but he's right. I always ask him to drive, and I've used Alex's excitement over being able to drive as an excuse when Ian isn't available. I wanted to know why he didn't push me a little harder.
"Because you do what you have to do when you need to do it, and you're not distracted by fear when you are driving. I think it's all right that you choose to not drive or ride, and when you're ready, you'll tell me to get my ass in the passenger seat because I'm driving you bat chit crazy with the way I steer with one hand."
But clearly, I'm not nearly as all right with it as I thought I was.
I thought he would press the point and make me drive, but he didn't. I did ask him if he thought I was nuts, and as we got back into the car he said he did.
For a moment, I was offended.
"It's 5 fucking degrees outside, and you wanted a shake. You have to admit, that's a little nuts."
I'll give him that one.
We went into a nearby fast food place because I was damn well going to cave into the want of a chocolate shake while I fought to calm down and as we sat there I told him I thought this was all over with and that I'd mostly forgotten about it, but the look on his face said something else.
"You only drive if you have to. Since Alex got his license you drive even less. Your motorcycle has only 400 miles on it and I've put a hundred on it just to keep the battery charged."
I hadn't noticed, but he's right. I don't know why he's never pushed me to get behind the wheel more often or take the bike out, but he's right. I always ask him to drive, and I've used Alex's excitement over being able to drive as an excuse when Ian isn't available. I wanted to know why he didn't push me a little harder.
"Because you do what you have to do when you need to do it, and you're not distracted by fear when you are driving. I think it's all right that you choose to not drive or ride, and when you're ready, you'll tell me to get my ass in the passenger seat because I'm driving you bat chit crazy with the way I steer with one hand."
But clearly, I'm not nearly as all right with it as I thought I was.
I thought he would press the point and make me drive, but he didn't. I did ask him if he thought I was nuts, and as we got back into the car he said he did.
For a moment, I was offended.
"It's 5 fucking degrees outside, and you wanted a shake. You have to admit, that's a little nuts."
I'll give him that one.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Title Goes Here
A little over a month ago Erin expressed an interest in knowing where her father is, what had happened to him, and why he left when she was so young. My sister has never been exactly forthcoming about the breakup of her marriage, and the details were never mine to inquire about. She may have confided in our parents, who only told me “It’s just sad,” and I never pressed. At the time the only things I needed to know were that my sister was suddenly on her own with two young kids, and that she needed our help and compassion more than she needed questions.
I think we all (my brother, my ex, and I) expected her ex to stay in contact with their kids, no matter what the reason he had for leaving. He didn’t, though, and Val made it clear to the kids that they should just simply not ask her anything.
I had my suspicions about his whereabouts, but kept them to myself, until late in October when Erin asked me to find him. She’s not ready to face him, but does want him to know she’s interested in him, and that someday, probably someday soon, she’d like to see him and perhaps (a very strong maybe) begin a relationship if that’s what he wants as well.
I approached my sister and got the answer I expected; she doesn’t know where he is and doesn’t care. I spoke to Erin’s brother, who also didn’t know, but was certain he could get at least some basic information out of Val, and after some pressure—he wants as much as Erin does to have at least the option to connect with their father, and if warranted, kick the crap out of him—she relented and gave Jeff the last address and phone number she had for her ex’s brother.
This last month has been filled with attempts to contact the brother, tracking him from one address to the next, and two weeks ago I finally found him halfway across the county from where I initially thought he would be. He confirmed the suspicions I had over two decades ago, that Val’s ex practically vanished because he was in prison. He was full of details that I never would have guessed and was highly suspect regarding the truthfulness of them, but he pointed me in the right direction and assured me that Erin and Jeff’s father would be glad to hear from me.
When Val married him—having already had Jeff, and not too long after high school—I knew him as Billy, but after leaving prison he began going by his middle name and isn’t keen on sharing it with the world, do for the sake of my own sanity, I’ll just call him Bill here. Bill’s brother was right; he was glad to hear from me and was keenly interested in news about his kids, thrilled that they’re doing so well in spite of their parents, and was overjoyed at how many kids they’ve had.
It was a stark contrast to how my sister reacted at the news of her grandkids, which was mostly Yeah? Nice for them. Where she is almost calculating in creating distance between herself and the idea that her kids have families of their own, Bill wanted every detail I could give him. He also understood when told that Erin isn’t ready to meet him, but that she wanted—for now—to just know that he’s alive and to have a general idea where he is. He’s under no delusions about what his leaving did to his kids, but he’s open to them knowing why, especially if they know where he is now and how far removed he is from the things that put him feet first into a vat of legal trouble.
He’s more than willing to share details with me, as long as I don’t also dwell on Val’s part of it. And in hearing that, so many pieces of the Val Puzzle fell into place. Her actions and inactions, her squirrely and fairly despicable behaviors over the last 30 years, and her attitude are much more understandable now. I can look back and see how most of her life has been painted with guilt, and without going into too much detail, she has every reason to be wracked with guilt. Bill spent five years in prison to mostly protect her; he took a fall that she should have because he felt that his kids needed their mother, and if he didn’t protect her they would have both wound up in jail, and he had no idea what would have happened to Jeff and to Erin.
I can know the details; the kids, he insists, cannot. I disagree with this on so many levels, but mostly because if they did know, they would understand their mother better. Some wounds might begin to heal. It wouldn’t begin to explain to Erin why Val threw her out when she was 16 and only thought she was pregnant—it never occurred to Val to take her to a doctor and find out for sure—but it would explain to Erin the atmosphere of the environment she grew up in, and why my parents took such a leading reign in her life until they moved here.
Bill didn’t just leave and forget he had kids; Bill left and had no way to stay in contact with them, and Val didn’t help matters any. I believe Jeff and Erin would be better off if they had the full truth; Bill might think he’s still protecting Val by keeping it from them, but I think it would give them a deeper understanding of their mother and the demons that will nip at her heels for the rest of her life. Erin might be more willing to at least consider bridging some distance with her mother.
When Erin was unceremoniously shown the front door, her brother was already out of the house, away at college. He’d weathered his own version of Val as a mother but wasn’t there to see the explosion and thusly does not have those wounds. He’s eager to meet their father, and accepts that there are some things that he won’t be told. He feels he can start from scratch and get to know them man Bill is now, not the man he used to be.
For now, Erin is content to know that he’s all right and he thinks about her frequently; she’s happy that he does want at least some contact, and that he’s fine with her taking however long she needs to decide how she wants to meet him. She’s grateful that he doesn’t mind having a go-between, and that she’ll trust Jeff to be the first of them to actually get on a plane to meet him face to face. She’s relieved that I think he looks fine, acts fine, and that I believe he’s truthful about his past and his life now, and when she’s ready, I’ll go with her.
I have no doubt that eventually the full truth of why Bill left and where he’s been will come out, and when it does I’ll also go with her to see her mother, because I know she’ll want to. And if I’m as truthful about myself, it won’t be painless for me. She might consider me to be her dad, but there’s something very powerful about the draw of one’s biological parents. I’m always very aware that we’ll probably go through this more than once, because after Erin decides to meet or not meet him, and whether or not it leads to some kind of relationship with either or both of her parents, we have to face the fact that in a few years it will be Kevin feeling that pull. Frankly, I’m not ready for any of this.
I think we all (my brother, my ex, and I) expected her ex to stay in contact with their kids, no matter what the reason he had for leaving. He didn’t, though, and Val made it clear to the kids that they should just simply not ask her anything.
I had my suspicions about his whereabouts, but kept them to myself, until late in October when Erin asked me to find him. She’s not ready to face him, but does want him to know she’s interested in him, and that someday, probably someday soon, she’d like to see him and perhaps (a very strong maybe) begin a relationship if that’s what he wants as well.
I approached my sister and got the answer I expected; she doesn’t know where he is and doesn’t care. I spoke to Erin’s brother, who also didn’t know, but was certain he could get at least some basic information out of Val, and after some pressure—he wants as much as Erin does to have at least the option to connect with their father, and if warranted, kick the crap out of him—she relented and gave Jeff the last address and phone number she had for her ex’s brother.
This last month has been filled with attempts to contact the brother, tracking him from one address to the next, and two weeks ago I finally found him halfway across the county from where I initially thought he would be. He confirmed the suspicions I had over two decades ago, that Val’s ex practically vanished because he was in prison. He was full of details that I never would have guessed and was highly suspect regarding the truthfulness of them, but he pointed me in the right direction and assured me that Erin and Jeff’s father would be glad to hear from me.
When Val married him—having already had Jeff, and not too long after high school—I knew him as Billy, but after leaving prison he began going by his middle name and isn’t keen on sharing it with the world, do for the sake of my own sanity, I’ll just call him Bill here. Bill’s brother was right; he was glad to hear from me and was keenly interested in news about his kids, thrilled that they’re doing so well in spite of their parents, and was overjoyed at how many kids they’ve had.
It was a stark contrast to how my sister reacted at the news of her grandkids, which was mostly Yeah? Nice for them. Where she is almost calculating in creating distance between herself and the idea that her kids have families of their own, Bill wanted every detail I could give him. He also understood when told that Erin isn’t ready to meet him, but that she wanted—for now—to just know that he’s alive and to have a general idea where he is. He’s under no delusions about what his leaving did to his kids, but he’s open to them knowing why, especially if they know where he is now and how far removed he is from the things that put him feet first into a vat of legal trouble.
He’s more than willing to share details with me, as long as I don’t also dwell on Val’s part of it. And in hearing that, so many pieces of the Val Puzzle fell into place. Her actions and inactions, her squirrely and fairly despicable behaviors over the last 30 years, and her attitude are much more understandable now. I can look back and see how most of her life has been painted with guilt, and without going into too much detail, she has every reason to be wracked with guilt. Bill spent five years in prison to mostly protect her; he took a fall that she should have because he felt that his kids needed their mother, and if he didn’t protect her they would have both wound up in jail, and he had no idea what would have happened to Jeff and to Erin.
I can know the details; the kids, he insists, cannot. I disagree with this on so many levels, but mostly because if they did know, they would understand their mother better. Some wounds might begin to heal. It wouldn’t begin to explain to Erin why Val threw her out when she was 16 and only thought she was pregnant—it never occurred to Val to take her to a doctor and find out for sure—but it would explain to Erin the atmosphere of the environment she grew up in, and why my parents took such a leading reign in her life until they moved here.
Bill didn’t just leave and forget he had kids; Bill left and had no way to stay in contact with them, and Val didn’t help matters any. I believe Jeff and Erin would be better off if they had the full truth; Bill might think he’s still protecting Val by keeping it from them, but I think it would give them a deeper understanding of their mother and the demons that will nip at her heels for the rest of her life. Erin might be more willing to at least consider bridging some distance with her mother.
When Erin was unceremoniously shown the front door, her brother was already out of the house, away at college. He’d weathered his own version of Val as a mother but wasn’t there to see the explosion and thusly does not have those wounds. He’s eager to meet their father, and accepts that there are some things that he won’t be told. He feels he can start from scratch and get to know them man Bill is now, not the man he used to be.
For now, Erin is content to know that he’s all right and he thinks about her frequently; she’s happy that he does want at least some contact, and that he’s fine with her taking however long she needs to decide how she wants to meet him. She’s grateful that he doesn’t mind having a go-between, and that she’ll trust Jeff to be the first of them to actually get on a plane to meet him face to face. She’s relieved that I think he looks fine, acts fine, and that I believe he’s truthful about his past and his life now, and when she’s ready, I’ll go with her.
I have no doubt that eventually the full truth of why Bill left and where he’s been will come out, and when it does I’ll also go with her to see her mother, because I know she’ll want to. And if I’m as truthful about myself, it won’t be painless for me. She might consider me to be her dad, but there’s something very powerful about the draw of one’s biological parents. I’m always very aware that we’ll probably go through this more than once, because after Erin decides to meet or not meet him, and whether or not it leads to some kind of relationship with either or both of her parents, we have to face the fact that in a few years it will be Kevin feeling that pull. Frankly, I’m not ready for any of this.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Here Comes The Storm
Getting the kids to get their homework done has never been an issue before; Alex studies for fun, Rachel does her work as soon as she gets home just to get it out of the way, and Kevin never really had much to do before now. When he did have homework, he mimicked Alex and sat down at the table with his older brother and just did it.
Then his hormones began to kick in, his attitude skewed a bit, and homework has become a battleground. When asked if he has any, he grunts no, and is then scrambling to get it done at the last minute. On Wednesday afternoon, knowing that he’d be better off getting it out of the way before a weekend that was already scheduled with family outings, Char asked him how much—not if he had any—homework he needed to get done.
I have to read about 10 pages in this book we’re reading for English class.
All right; he’s not the reader Alex is, but he does read for half an hour or so every night, so she didn’t push. She did, however, ask him every night if he’d read what he was supposed to.
A few pages, his pat answer.
Get it done tonight was her reply.
He’s rushing head-first into puberty, we get that. We survived it with Alex, complete with attitude and door-slamming; we survived it with Rachel and her penchant for new-teen-drama-queen antics. Kevin has always been fairly laid back, easy going, so we naïvely assumed he might be just a little easier to deal with.
I don’t think either of us expected he would take the worst of his siblings’ traits and create a whole new pre-teen model. He has all of Alex’s attitude and then some, the snarky sarcasm that just misses the mark, he stomps through the house, and he can out-drama the queen without much effort. He’s still the same sweet kid, but when he’s on a roll…if it was someone else’s kid, I would be amused. Since it’s ours, I’m ticking away the months until the worst of it is over, and hoping that he eases out of it at about the same ages Alex and Rachel did (don’t get me wrong, they’re still rolling in teen crap, but they’ve got a handle on it and know when they’ve stepped over the line.)
Thanksgiving weekend was All Kevin Attitude, All The Time. He snarked at all the wrong times, backtalked, rolled his eyes a few times too many, stomped a few times too loudly, and by yesterday afternoon we’d had enough.
And then after dinner Alex brought up homework, knowing Kevin hadn’t done it; he was being a shit, too, but at least it was with a purpose, to make sure his little brother got the work done before it was too late.
Char was furious. She pointed Kevin towards the sofa, turned off the TV, and made him read the chapter he should have had done on Wednesday night. When he closed the book and then said he needed his notebook to finish—I might have forgotten that I need to write a report—she gritted her teeth and managed to avoid yelling at him. But when he pulled out the notebook, along with math homework he “forgot” about, history worksheets that “will only take a minute,” and a take-home quiz for his science class, her restraint lapsed and she let him have it (verbally.)
He simply sat there and let her get it out, and then made his biggest mistake. He rolled his eyes, sighed hard, and told her to stop being so dramatic. It was “meaningless” homework and didn’t matter.
She was mad enough that she turned around and left the room; he shrugged it off until his cell phone chirped with a text message, and I grabbed the phone from his hand.
You just lost this for a week.
Instant indignation. That wasn’t fair, he was getting the work done and it would be done before bedtime, so what’s the big deal?
You never, not ever, speak to your mother that way.
She started it. He seriously went to that. She started it.
One more word and you’re also grounded for the week.
His mouth opened—he had more than one more word to say—but he doesn’t dare risk it this week. If he misses dance classes this week and next week, he doesn’t get to participate in the holiday recital, and he’s worked his ass off for that.
Very quietly, he grabbed his books and headed for my office, where he could work without a parent breathing down his neck. And somewhere in that pre-teen clouded brain is a working brain cell, because I heard him pause in the hallway at our bedroom door.
I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be mean.
Yes, we’ve gotten through it twice already and peripherally with a third (though Erin was over the attitude part by the time she moved in; she was still all teen), and his bright spots are far more frequent than his dark wannabe-teen moments, but I am not looking forward to the next couple of years, and I am bracing myself against everything that’s coming at us.
First world problem, I know.
Then his hormones began to kick in, his attitude skewed a bit, and homework has become a battleground. When asked if he has any, he grunts no, and is then scrambling to get it done at the last minute. On Wednesday afternoon, knowing that he’d be better off getting it out of the way before a weekend that was already scheduled with family outings, Char asked him how much—not if he had any—homework he needed to get done.
I have to read about 10 pages in this book we’re reading for English class.
All right; he’s not the reader Alex is, but he does read for half an hour or so every night, so she didn’t push. She did, however, ask him every night if he’d read what he was supposed to.
A few pages, his pat answer.
Get it done tonight was her reply.
He’s rushing head-first into puberty, we get that. We survived it with Alex, complete with attitude and door-slamming; we survived it with Rachel and her penchant for new-teen-drama-queen antics. Kevin has always been fairly laid back, easy going, so we naïvely assumed he might be just a little easier to deal with.
I don’t think either of us expected he would take the worst of his siblings’ traits and create a whole new pre-teen model. He has all of Alex’s attitude and then some, the snarky sarcasm that just misses the mark, he stomps through the house, and he can out-drama the queen without much effort. He’s still the same sweet kid, but when he’s on a roll…if it was someone else’s kid, I would be amused. Since it’s ours, I’m ticking away the months until the worst of it is over, and hoping that he eases out of it at about the same ages Alex and Rachel did (don’t get me wrong, they’re still rolling in teen crap, but they’ve got a handle on it and know when they’ve stepped over the line.)
Thanksgiving weekend was All Kevin Attitude, All The Time. He snarked at all the wrong times, backtalked, rolled his eyes a few times too many, stomped a few times too loudly, and by yesterday afternoon we’d had enough.
And then after dinner Alex brought up homework, knowing Kevin hadn’t done it; he was being a shit, too, but at least it was with a purpose, to make sure his little brother got the work done before it was too late.
Char was furious. She pointed Kevin towards the sofa, turned off the TV, and made him read the chapter he should have had done on Wednesday night. When he closed the book and then said he needed his notebook to finish—I might have forgotten that I need to write a report—she gritted her teeth and managed to avoid yelling at him. But when he pulled out the notebook, along with math homework he “forgot” about, history worksheets that “will only take a minute,” and a take-home quiz for his science class, her restraint lapsed and she let him have it (verbally.)
He simply sat there and let her get it out, and then made his biggest mistake. He rolled his eyes, sighed hard, and told her to stop being so dramatic. It was “meaningless” homework and didn’t matter.
She was mad enough that she turned around and left the room; he shrugged it off until his cell phone chirped with a text message, and I grabbed the phone from his hand.
You just lost this for a week.
Instant indignation. That wasn’t fair, he was getting the work done and it would be done before bedtime, so what’s the big deal?
You never, not ever, speak to your mother that way.
She started it. He seriously went to that. She started it.
One more word and you’re also grounded for the week.
His mouth opened—he had more than one more word to say—but he doesn’t dare risk it this week. If he misses dance classes this week and next week, he doesn’t get to participate in the holiday recital, and he’s worked his ass off for that.
Very quietly, he grabbed his books and headed for my office, where he could work without a parent breathing down his neck. And somewhere in that pre-teen clouded brain is a working brain cell, because I heard him pause in the hallway at our bedroom door.
I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t mean to be mean.
Yes, we’ve gotten through it twice already and peripherally with a third (though Erin was over the attitude part by the time she moved in; she was still all teen), and his bright spots are far more frequent than his dark wannabe-teen moments, but I am not looking forward to the next couple of years, and I am bracing myself against everything that’s coming at us.
First world problem, I know.
Friday, November 18, 2011
I'm so not ready for this
I think we've hit the parts of parenting that neither of us was prepared for; we had the kids with the intent to raise them into self reliant adults, and hoped that along the way we could instill values in them that would become part of who they are, and for the most part I think we've accomplished that. Make no mistake, we have three teenagers in the house (yes, I know, Kevin is not yet 13 but he might as well be; he has the eye rolling part down pat) and there are days we go to bed as exhausted as we did when they were toddlers. For the most part, they amuse us, even at their teen-worst (I suppose that's because their worst isn't all that bad, not compared to a lot of kids we know) but there are days...
They're reaching towards problems that are pushing into adult territory, and we don't always know what to do about it. Alex, especially. He's 16 going on 30, he's in a relationship that's grown closer than I would like (read into that what you will, and you'll probably be right) and he's as serious and committed to it as he can possibly be at this age; he's also trying to figure out a way to break his own heart without breaking his girlfriend's.
He doesn't want to break up with her, but it occurred to him recently that he may effectively be doing that at the end of next summer. The realization hit him as he was pouring over information on a few potential colleges he's considering for when he's done at the community college. He's wrestling with what to do, stay here and go to school locally, which might not be in his best long term interest, or go away to school and risk distance being something that comes between them.
His realization has lead to many evenings spent sitting by the pool, in the cold, while he contemplates what he's going to do. It's almost as hard on us because we can't really tell him what to do; we can point out some obvious things, like email and texting and cell phones, and the fact that going away to school doesn't mean staying away for good. There are holidays and weekends, and unless he winds up overseas somehow he can always come home when he feels the need. We can also bite our tongues and avoid telling him that some distance might do them both some good; they're too young to be living life as if they're going to be together forever, and it might give them both some perspective.
I also can't tell him that most of me wants him to stay home and go to school here. I'm not ready to send my son out into the world and I don't imagine that I will be in 9 months. He won't be quite 17 when the next school year begins. When he was born my idea of being his mother had him here with us until he was 22 and graduating from college.
He relies more on his father when it comes to talking this out, which is good because I'm not sure I can avoid telling him how badly I want him to stay home. Ian is capable of helping him weight the pros and cons and making sure that the primary consideration is Alex's entire future, not his mother's feelings, and not his girlfriend's.
But still, he knows that if he chooses to leave, even if he can find a way to do it and not hurt Stephanie, he'll be breaking his own heart by going. And the collateral from that just isn't something I was ever prepared to have to deal with.
My dad let me leave at 18; he sent me clear across the country, and I had no idea how hard that was for him, not until I started thinking about Alex leaving. My dad let me go because it really was the best for me. I know that if Alex chooses a school out of state that it will be because it's the best for him, but I don't have to like it. And I suppose he doesn't have to, either.
They're reaching towards problems that are pushing into adult territory, and we don't always know what to do about it. Alex, especially. He's 16 going on 30, he's in a relationship that's grown closer than I would like (read into that what you will, and you'll probably be right) and he's as serious and committed to it as he can possibly be at this age; he's also trying to figure out a way to break his own heart without breaking his girlfriend's.
He doesn't want to break up with her, but it occurred to him recently that he may effectively be doing that at the end of next summer. The realization hit him as he was pouring over information on a few potential colleges he's considering for when he's done at the community college. He's wrestling with what to do, stay here and go to school locally, which might not be in his best long term interest, or go away to school and risk distance being something that comes between them.
His realization has lead to many evenings spent sitting by the pool, in the cold, while he contemplates what he's going to do. It's almost as hard on us because we can't really tell him what to do; we can point out some obvious things, like email and texting and cell phones, and the fact that going away to school doesn't mean staying away for good. There are holidays and weekends, and unless he winds up overseas somehow he can always come home when he feels the need. We can also bite our tongues and avoid telling him that some distance might do them both some good; they're too young to be living life as if they're going to be together forever, and it might give them both some perspective.
I also can't tell him that most of me wants him to stay home and go to school here. I'm not ready to send my son out into the world and I don't imagine that I will be in 9 months. He won't be quite 17 when the next school year begins. When he was born my idea of being his mother had him here with us until he was 22 and graduating from college.
He relies more on his father when it comes to talking this out, which is good because I'm not sure I can avoid telling him how badly I want him to stay home. Ian is capable of helping him weight the pros and cons and making sure that the primary consideration is Alex's entire future, not his mother's feelings, and not his girlfriend's.
But still, he knows that if he chooses to leave, even if he can find a way to do it and not hurt Stephanie, he'll be breaking his own heart by going. And the collateral from that just isn't something I was ever prepared to have to deal with.
My dad let me leave at 18; he sent me clear across the country, and I had no idea how hard that was for him, not until I started thinking about Alex leaving. My dad let me go because it really was the best for me. I know that if Alex chooses a school out of state that it will be because it's the best for him, but I don't have to like it. And I suppose he doesn't have to, either.
Thursday, November 3, 2011
All our kids
The last two weeks have been hectic; we were simply waiting for Erin to have her baby, but then Miko came down with a gastric-intestinal bug, which spread through their house like biological wildfire. Both parents, all three kids, sick as can be, so we moved them into our house, sent the boys to stay with my dad because they showed no signs of it, and moved Rachel onto an air mattress in our room because she had a mild case. They were all so sick that it was scary, especially Erin. She wanted to have that baby so badly and in her head that was going to make everything better, but luckily she didn't go into labor while throwing up everything she'd eaten for the last week.
Ian and I were lucky; we still haven't gotten it. But he never complained once about all the work taking care of so many sick people at once entailed. He cleaned up barf without gagging, and he cleaned up a whole lot of kiddie poop and never flinched. He helped Miko bathe a few times, kept Travis and Thad as entertained as you can two little boys who feel so poorly, and he held Toni while she cried (because this kind of sick is embarrassing when you're a big fourth grader and trying to show your baby brothers how tough you are.) What touched me the most was seeing him curled up on the sofa with Erin (while Miko was splayed out on the kitchen floor, because it was cooler) on one side and Rachel on the other, holding both his girls close while they shared a hushed conversation about wanting that baby to come right now, and I listened as Erin admitted she hadn't thought about her own father in over a year but was suddenly wondering what had happened to him. Ian offered to find out, and Erin wants to know.
She doesn't think of her father as her dad, though. When she thinks of her dad, she thinks of Ian. And Rachel wanted to know when she was going to stop calling him Uncle Ian and start calling him Dad; Erin has never wanted Alex to feel displaced as the oldest, and certainly doesn't want Rachel to feel pushed aside as the only daughter.
I wanted to cry when Rachel told her she would never think that, because she's always thought of Erin as her big sister. And then she texted Alex and asked what he thought, and his response was "WTF? She's our sister so why hasn't she called him Dad all along?"
Ian told her she can call him whatever she's most comfortable with, but make no mistake, she's our daughter. Our kids think of her as their sibling; and yes, we had Alex and Rachel first, so she's not intruding on the order of things, if that's her biggest worry.
Erin is a sweet, sweet girl who still hasn't come to terms with why her own mother shoved her out the door (for that matter, neither have we) and she has no idea why her father left, but that's something I've always been able to empathize with. I still don't really know why my mother left, or where she is now. I understand that pain, though I think Erin's might be deeper since she did have 16 years with her mother. But I don't think she's ever felt as unconditionally loved as she does with Ian. He never had to be asked; the moment he found out his sister had thrown Erin out, he headed for Texas to get her. There was never a question about what he would do with her; she was coming to live with us, for as long as she needed and wanted to. His heart was there before the rest of him was, and I fell in love with her the minute she stepped through the front door.
She has been a joy to have, a very bright light in our lives and we've been lucky that she settled in easily and never really looked back.
Last night, just before dinner (which was the first solid food she had wanted to face for over a week) she looked up, eyes wide, and announced that "it's time." Poor Miko still feels horrible, but he'd stopped throwing up and was keeping Gatorade down, and I'm not sure how he felt about having to get dressed and leave the house, but when she said it was time we all took her seriously.
She was very calm all the way there, calm as Miko checked her in, and calm as she went into her room. Poor Ian was a nervous wreck, calling Miko's parents and my dad, so that he could take the boys back to the house and stay with Rachel. We waited at the hospital, because Ian insists that he be there when his grandkids are coming into the world, even if it is down the hall. And at 11:20, our newest granddaughter took her first breath, on 1-11-11.
Erin and Miko named her Charlene Alessandra Kosta, and I can't tell you how overwhelmed and thrilled it makes me to have her named after me. I was so touched about how focused she is on Ian being her dad that I never clued into the idea that we're a package deal. She says I've been her Mom for years, too, and if it had been another boy, he would have been Charlie.
I can't stop crying.
Ian is thrilled, too, and threatening to call her Chuck. I'm pretty sure he can get away with calling her anything he wants, but if Toni is any example, she'll be "little princess" most of the time.
Ian and I were lucky; we still haven't gotten it. But he never complained once about all the work taking care of so many sick people at once entailed. He cleaned up barf without gagging, and he cleaned up a whole lot of kiddie poop and never flinched. He helped Miko bathe a few times, kept Travis and Thad as entertained as you can two little boys who feel so poorly, and he held Toni while she cried (because this kind of sick is embarrassing when you're a big fourth grader and trying to show your baby brothers how tough you are.) What touched me the most was seeing him curled up on the sofa with Erin (while Miko was splayed out on the kitchen floor, because it was cooler) on one side and Rachel on the other, holding both his girls close while they shared a hushed conversation about wanting that baby to come right now, and I listened as Erin admitted she hadn't thought about her own father in over a year but was suddenly wondering what had happened to him. Ian offered to find out, and Erin wants to know.
She doesn't think of her father as her dad, though. When she thinks of her dad, she thinks of Ian. And Rachel wanted to know when she was going to stop calling him Uncle Ian and start calling him Dad; Erin has never wanted Alex to feel displaced as the oldest, and certainly doesn't want Rachel to feel pushed aside as the only daughter.
I wanted to cry when Rachel told her she would never think that, because she's always thought of Erin as her big sister. And then she texted Alex and asked what he thought, and his response was "WTF? She's our sister so why hasn't she called him Dad all along?"
Ian told her she can call him whatever she's most comfortable with, but make no mistake, she's our daughter. Our kids think of her as their sibling; and yes, we had Alex and Rachel first, so she's not intruding on the order of things, if that's her biggest worry.
Erin is a sweet, sweet girl who still hasn't come to terms with why her own mother shoved her out the door (for that matter, neither have we) and she has no idea why her father left, but that's something I've always been able to empathize with. I still don't really know why my mother left, or where she is now. I understand that pain, though I think Erin's might be deeper since she did have 16 years with her mother. But I don't think she's ever felt as unconditionally loved as she does with Ian. He never had to be asked; the moment he found out his sister had thrown Erin out, he headed for Texas to get her. There was never a question about what he would do with her; she was coming to live with us, for as long as she needed and wanted to. His heart was there before the rest of him was, and I fell in love with her the minute she stepped through the front door.
She has been a joy to have, a very bright light in our lives and we've been lucky that she settled in easily and never really looked back.
Last night, just before dinner (which was the first solid food she had wanted to face for over a week) she looked up, eyes wide, and announced that "it's time." Poor Miko still feels horrible, but he'd stopped throwing up and was keeping Gatorade down, and I'm not sure how he felt about having to get dressed and leave the house, but when she said it was time we all took her seriously.
She was very calm all the way there, calm as Miko checked her in, and calm as she went into her room. Poor Ian was a nervous wreck, calling Miko's parents and my dad, so that he could take the boys back to the house and stay with Rachel. We waited at the hospital, because Ian insists that he be there when his grandkids are coming into the world, even if it is down the hall. And at 11:20, our newest granddaughter took her first breath, on 1-11-11.
Erin and Miko named her Charlene Alessandra Kosta, and I can't tell you how overwhelmed and thrilled it makes me to have her named after me. I was so touched about how focused she is on Ian being her dad that I never clued into the idea that we're a package deal. She says I've been her Mom for years, too, and if it had been another boy, he would have been Charlie.
I can't stop crying.
Ian is thrilled, too, and threatening to call her Chuck. I'm pretty sure he can get away with calling her anything he wants, but if Toni is any example, she'll be "little princess" most of the time.
Monday, October 10, 2011
We're still around
All right, Max, because you asked.
The highlights:
Yeah. That's it. Traveling and kids and traveling with kids. And a lot of waiting for grandkid #4, who isn't due for 2 weeks but could come any time given Erin's past of delivering early. There may also be some coraling of the pseudo-son-in-law and dragging his ass to a doctor, because if he does't get snipped soon, she's going to do it for him while he sleeps.
The highlights:
- After taking the kids to Ireland, we spent a lot of time babysitting the grand kids in order to give Erin a break while she wallows in her pregnancy. This one has been exhausting her, mostly because of the vast amounts of energy her two little boys have. She spends a lot of time here, too, so the babysitting is more like just helping, but two toddlers on crack is a lot of work.
- I left Char alone to deal with our kids as well as helping Erin and took Craig to Ireland; he had time off and we’d intended to take that trip 25-30 years ago, and Char thought it would be a good excuse for me to explore some retirement possibilities. I’ll tell you what; Ireland with a recovering alcoholic is kind of a bummer sometimes. He did well around the rest of our family who drank in front of him, though. And I don’t think he’ll ever go back; this was a see it for the last time kind of trip for him.
- Overall he’s doing really well. Great job, awesome girlfriend, and moving out of TK’s soon. Half of that is wanting to move in with Frankie, half is not wanting to live with TK’s kids. They’re great kids, but with them comes their mother. Yeah. That’s back on.
- Alex is now taller than I am, but I don’t think he’s realized it yet. He needs to stop growing before he hits the freak zone.
- He’s also declared a major; while we were sure it would be engineering or architecture, he’s decided on (for now) psychology. When asked why, because we were sure he’d go in another direction based upon his interest in building and fixing things, he answered that he’s more interested in fixing people. He looked at Char right after he said it, too.
- Rachel. Holy fuck, the stream of teenaged boys that go through this house. She’s not “dating” anyone and has declared boys for the most part to be “so totally not worth it” but that’s not stopping her from flirting like crazy and driving me nuts. And I admit to some curiosity over why she’s not actually going out with any of these guys; Char tells me that none of them have passed the big brother test, and his opinion matters to her. I hope he knows this.
- Kevin. I seriously think I will be chasing him and Elizabeth around with the garden hose more than I have Alex and Stephanie. For a kid who sets off nearly everyone’s gaydar…he’s either trying to figure it all out for himself, or he’s headed for some major stupidity, or both. And no, I am not feeling relief that he’s focused on a girl; I don’t want him groping anyone just yet.
- Remember Damien? He’s testing for his brown belt this week. This kid has made a huge turn around in the last couple of years; he graduated from high school at the end of summer and is heading into the Marine Corps. He can still be a bit of a dick, but now when something completely stupid comes out of his mouth he often catches himself and apologizes. Considering I expected him to be in jail by now, or dead because he picked on the wrong person, I am impressed by how he’s done.
Yeah. That's it. Traveling and kids and traveling with kids. And a lot of waiting for grandkid #4, who isn't due for 2 weeks but could come any time given Erin's past of delivering early. There may also be some coraling of the pseudo-son-in-law and dragging his ass to a doctor, because if he does't get snipped soon, she's going to do it for him while he sleeps.
Monday, August 22, 2011
What I Did On My Summer Vacation
Alex started back to school last week, and today Rachel and Kevin’s school year began. I had worried about how Rachel would do heading off to her first day of high school, mostly because this is the first time she’s gone to school without one of her brothers, but she was surrounded by friends at the bus stop and never looked back.
I wasn’t worried about Kevin heading off without his sister; he spent enough time over the summer blabbering about how much fun this year was going to be—ninety percent of that owed to the fact that Elizabeth would be joining him there—and he’s enough of a social butterfly that if the thought that he was also heading to school without a sibling for the first had occurred to him, it was a fleeting thought.
But, the summer; between friends hanging around the house and Alex’s jobs, Rachel venturing out into babysitting, camp, Kevin immersing a little further into dance, the kids kept us busy. There was still a lot of family time crammed into the chaos, and last month we took them to Ireland to meet some of Ian’s cousins and to sight-see, and then took a detour on the way home because they really wanted to see Cardiff. Secretly, they harbored hope that they would find a Doctor Who-like police box; they didn’t, but they were thrilled to find a touch of Torchwood.
Early in the summer a new family moved into a house across the street, and they have kids close to the ages of ours, and Kevin made a fast friend out of their 13 year old son, Carlos. With Elizabeth, it was like the three amigos and they spent a lot of time hanging out by the pool. He seems like a good kid, very funny and as quick witted as Kevin, but more than that he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and knows when to be polite and when he can mess with the adults around him.
He has two older brothers and an older sister, but we didn’t see as much of them. Alex hung out with the oldest boy a bit and took him on a tour of the college, but the other two kids kept to themselves a lot. If Carlos is any indication, we’ll get to know them later, after they’ve gotten tired of being so annoyed about having to move.
Ian and I did take some time for us with a quick trip to Vegas, but for the most part it’s been a summer full of kids and carting them to jobs and movies and places to hang with their friends. We’ve been babysitting the grandkids quite a bit, too, trying to give Erin some breathing room, because she is still not happy about being pregnant. She’s happy about having another baby, but she’s not enjoying getting through being pregnant and would be thrilled of one of us could snap our fingers and make this baby be here now instead of the end of October.
The cap to the summer: Ian getting kissed by one of the regulars in my dad’s bar. Male regular. And hearing Alex blurt out “Dude that’s my dad!”
Funnier, I don’t think Ian minded.
I wasn’t worried about Kevin heading off without his sister; he spent enough time over the summer blabbering about how much fun this year was going to be—ninety percent of that owed to the fact that Elizabeth would be joining him there—and he’s enough of a social butterfly that if the thought that he was also heading to school without a sibling for the first had occurred to him, it was a fleeting thought.
But, the summer; between friends hanging around the house and Alex’s jobs, Rachel venturing out into babysitting, camp, Kevin immersing a little further into dance, the kids kept us busy. There was still a lot of family time crammed into the chaos, and last month we took them to Ireland to meet some of Ian’s cousins and to sight-see, and then took a detour on the way home because they really wanted to see Cardiff. Secretly, they harbored hope that they would find a Doctor Who-like police box; they didn’t, but they were thrilled to find a touch of Torchwood.
Early in the summer a new family moved into a house across the street, and they have kids close to the ages of ours, and Kevin made a fast friend out of their 13 year old son, Carlos. With Elizabeth, it was like the three amigos and they spent a lot of time hanging out by the pool. He seems like a good kid, very funny and as quick witted as Kevin, but more than that he seems to have a good head on his shoulders and knows when to be polite and when he can mess with the adults around him.
He has two older brothers and an older sister, but we didn’t see as much of them. Alex hung out with the oldest boy a bit and took him on a tour of the college, but the other two kids kept to themselves a lot. If Carlos is any indication, we’ll get to know them later, after they’ve gotten tired of being so annoyed about having to move.
Ian and I did take some time for us with a quick trip to Vegas, but for the most part it’s been a summer full of kids and carting them to jobs and movies and places to hang with their friends. We’ve been babysitting the grandkids quite a bit, too, trying to give Erin some breathing room, because she is still not happy about being pregnant. She’s happy about having another baby, but she’s not enjoying getting through being pregnant and would be thrilled of one of us could snap our fingers and make this baby be here now instead of the end of October.
The cap to the summer: Ian getting kissed by one of the regulars in my dad’s bar. Male regular. And hearing Alex blurt out “Dude that’s my dad!”
Funnier, I don’t think Ian minded.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Just call him Dad
I had a nice long post here but someone was uncomfortable with it and asked me to take it down. But, in a nutshell, we went to Vegas on a whim, Ian did a few nice things for a young couple, and we had a good time.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Sometimes in the dark is a good place to be
The start of what looks like it will be a very busy summer came with news that had, frankly, stumped both Char and me. What to do with it. Keep it to ourselves or let it loose and see where it went. We weren't sure what the right thing to do was, and the one person we asked for advice, Brad, could only shrug. He had no idea either.
He came over last week to tell us that Kevin's biological mother gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl, and she wanted us to know. What we did with that, tell Kevin or not, was up to us. She married last year, has created a good life for herself far from the neighborhood no one wanted Kevin to grow up in, and now that he has siblings, she thought he might want to know.
His birth mother is an issue we've struggled with. We know that the day will come when he wants to meet her; we agreed that once he was eighteen we would facilitate the meeting if he wanted us to. We've allowed Brad to share news about Kevin and photos of him, but she doesn't know where he is exactly, and Brad has honored out wish to keep it that way. What we don't know is what we'll do if he expresses a strong interest in meeting her before then. Or what to do if we allow it and they develop a relationship.
Whether it sounds petty or not, we really don't want him to ever consider her to be his mother. She gave birth to him, and in a streak of maturity beyond her age she gave him up to us to assure he would have a good life, but Char is his mother. It's more than a title; it's part of her identity and God help anyone who gets between her and her kids. If he ever called someone else "Mom" it would break her heart.
I know other families manage it, and we've tried to position ourselves to be fair about it when and if the time comes, but now that we're staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak, now that there's a brother and sister he's related to by blood and he's only six years from us having no say in it, we're realizing that we're not as mature about it as we thought we would be. It's one thing for him to meet her; it's another thing to contemplate where meeting her could lead.
When Brad told us he has other siblings, Char was taken aback and I got this horrible, sick feeling weighing me down. He reiterated we were under no obligation to tell him, but after some consideration, we both realized we didn't have a choice. If we didn't tell him, and he found out some other way, especially if he found out we knew and didn't say anything, the fallout might be suffocating.
So we waited until Alex and Rachel were involved in something else and called him into the kitchen, and told him. We tried to make is as non-major as we could; Grandpa talked to your birth mother, and she got married a while ago and just had twins. A boy and a girl. We thought you would want to know.
He wanted to know their names, something we hadn't asked Brad, but assured him we could.
Do I have to get them like a birthday present or something? Or at Christmas?
That had never occurred to us. But no.
Well, that's good. Alex and Rachel cost me enough.
And for now, that's all he cares about. What might be expected of him. But we both know that the older he gets, the more curious he will become, and frankly, as prepared as we thought we were, now we know we're not, not at all.
He came over last week to tell us that Kevin's biological mother gave birth to twins, a boy and a girl, and she wanted us to know. What we did with that, tell Kevin or not, was up to us. She married last year, has created a good life for herself far from the neighborhood no one wanted Kevin to grow up in, and now that he has siblings, she thought he might want to know.
His birth mother is an issue we've struggled with. We know that the day will come when he wants to meet her; we agreed that once he was eighteen we would facilitate the meeting if he wanted us to. We've allowed Brad to share news about Kevin and photos of him, but she doesn't know where he is exactly, and Brad has honored out wish to keep it that way. What we don't know is what we'll do if he expresses a strong interest in meeting her before then. Or what to do if we allow it and they develop a relationship.
Whether it sounds petty or not, we really don't want him to ever consider her to be his mother. She gave birth to him, and in a streak of maturity beyond her age she gave him up to us to assure he would have a good life, but Char is his mother. It's more than a title; it's part of her identity and God help anyone who gets between her and her kids. If he ever called someone else "Mom" it would break her heart.
I know other families manage it, and we've tried to position ourselves to be fair about it when and if the time comes, but now that we're staring down the barrel of the gun, so to speak, now that there's a brother and sister he's related to by blood and he's only six years from us having no say in it, we're realizing that we're not as mature about it as we thought we would be. It's one thing for him to meet her; it's another thing to contemplate where meeting her could lead.
When Brad told us he has other siblings, Char was taken aback and I got this horrible, sick feeling weighing me down. He reiterated we were under no obligation to tell him, but after some consideration, we both realized we didn't have a choice. If we didn't tell him, and he found out some other way, especially if he found out we knew and didn't say anything, the fallout might be suffocating.
So we waited until Alex and Rachel were involved in something else and called him into the kitchen, and told him. We tried to make is as non-major as we could; Grandpa talked to your birth mother, and she got married a while ago and just had twins. A boy and a girl. We thought you would want to know.
He wanted to know their names, something we hadn't asked Brad, but assured him we could.
Do I have to get them like a birthday present or something? Or at Christmas?
That had never occurred to us. But no.
Well, that's good. Alex and Rachel cost me enough.
And for now, that's all he cares about. What might be expected of him. But we both know that the older he gets, the more curious he will become, and frankly, as prepared as we thought we were, now we know we're not, not at all.
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