Last night the kids were all elswhere; Rachel spent the night at a friend's house, Kevin went to my dad's early, and they picked Alex up from his date at 10:30 and he went to my dad's as well, leaving the house very quiet and Ian looking at me like, "You're going to hurt me, aren't you?"
Other than Rachel's night out, it was orchestrated, yes, but not for the reason he assumed. I just thought it would make it easier this morning, when Alex would pointedly skip church, leaving Rachel and Kevin dragging their heels, and frankly, Ian and I as well.
This has been along time coming; while Alex has had his doubts and has openly questioned the church he's been raised in, Ian has waffled for years, and I was never exactly Catholic. The truth is that if not for our kids, I suspect Ian would have drifted away in the wake of his divorce--he lost a lot of respect for it when he realized he could throw a ton of money at it and have an annulment very quickly--and I never would have bothered.
Our involvement is entirely kid-centric; it's hard to avoid when the kids are in the school they're in and because we've gotten as involved as we have. But we're where we are because we did want to give them something to center belief around; Craig, when he posted a comment in Ian's earlier post, was right: Ian was cold cocked in the face by a nun when he was 12 years old. I think much of his "respect" for his church is fear, and that's not the best thing to build your faith on.
I doubt we'll pull them out of their school; their friends are there and they are getting a very good education, but if next Sunday rolls around and no one has turned the alarm on, and then the Sunday after that, I just don't think anyone in this family will be heartbroken.
Well, no more than they already are. It's fair to say Ian's is, just a little bit.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
They liked it, at least
If you don't want your kids to read something, don't print it out and leave it on your desk.
Not that them reading it is a bad thing, but 1) it leaves an opening for at least one of them to poke fun at you and 2) it leaves the other squealing about romance and asking too many questions. And it leaves them wondering why Mom wrote it the way she did, and with whom did she intend on sharing it with?
Not that them reading it is a bad thing, but 1) it leaves an opening for at least one of them to poke fun at you and 2) it leaves the other squealing about romance and asking too many questions. And it leaves them wondering why Mom wrote it the way she did, and with whom did she intend on sharing it with?
Friday, March 26, 2010
Some of the questions I get surprise me...
Do you really think your youngest kid is gay?
This is a question that I've left sitting in my formspring inbox for several days; it's not the first time I've gotten it in one form or another, both here and IRL. I've deleted it in the past (and deleted it from formspring) and essentially taken to task people asking it. My son is eleven years old; he shouldn't be defined by a concept as adult as sexuality yet. Still, I have touched on the issue several times, not intending to be evasive, but apparently have been.
The truth is that we don't know. I doubt Kevin knows. By this age with Alex and Rachel there was little doubt, though either one could surprise the hell out of us at any point, because frankly, they're all kids and are undoubtedly struggling with what they feel, why, and for whom. Just because Alex has a girlfriend and spends more time fishing for her tonsils than I'd like, that doesn't mean anything in the long run. Just because Rachel has a massive crush on a squeaky kid named Seth, who knows.
It doesn't matter. Our kids are who they are, and we love them unconditionally. We will welcome into our home and our lives whomever they end up with; all we really want—and I do feel safe in speaking for Char on this—is that they find someone they love who loves them back, and that they indulge in commitment and not in stereotypes. I don't want any of them bed hopping their way through college; I don't relish the idea that some of the absurd garbage that spews on Texts From Last Night could be submitted by one of my kids.
They could all be gay, all be straight, whatever. It doesn't change anything. I'll accept whomever they are, however they are.
However.
That doesn't mean we don't have some valid concerns. No, we don't know in which direction Kevin is headed, and we'll do whatever we have to in order to help him find his way if he needs it, but I do worry about the judgment he'll get at the hands of others, and I worry how difficult high school is going to be for him. How tormented will he be, or will he be at all? Is he the kid we pull out of parochial school in favor of public, just to save his sanity? Would it even matter?
Whether my youngest is gay or straight or bisexual, he marches to his own drumbeat; his interests certainly give one pause, and the older he gets the more obvious the differences between him and Alex at the same age become. He skirts around the stereotype; he loves the arts, particularly the grace of dance, he's developing a killer sense of fashion, he's slightly built, and he simply has that vibe.
He's also got a major crush on Elizabeth (he still practically says her name in italics) and talks about “someday” being married with kids.
None of it means anything.
All I care about is what he's facing; either way, unless puberty brings some major changes, people are going to make assumptions about him, and treat him based on those assumptions. People can be cruel and judgmental, and that's not something I want my son to have to face.
It's not something I can completely protect him from; but what his mother and I can do is make sure that all of our kids understand that this home is someplace safe, where they will be loved no matter what, treated with respect no matter what, and that the people with whom they have relationships will be welcome.
This is a question that I've left sitting in my formspring inbox for several days; it's not the first time I've gotten it in one form or another, both here and IRL. I've deleted it in the past (and deleted it from formspring) and essentially taken to task people asking it. My son is eleven years old; he shouldn't be defined by a concept as adult as sexuality yet. Still, I have touched on the issue several times, not intending to be evasive, but apparently have been.
The truth is that we don't know. I doubt Kevin knows. By this age with Alex and Rachel there was little doubt, though either one could surprise the hell out of us at any point, because frankly, they're all kids and are undoubtedly struggling with what they feel, why, and for whom. Just because Alex has a girlfriend and spends more time fishing for her tonsils than I'd like, that doesn't mean anything in the long run. Just because Rachel has a massive crush on a squeaky kid named Seth, who knows.
It doesn't matter. Our kids are who they are, and we love them unconditionally. We will welcome into our home and our lives whomever they end up with; all we really want—and I do feel safe in speaking for Char on this—is that they find someone they love who loves them back, and that they indulge in commitment and not in stereotypes. I don't want any of them bed hopping their way through college; I don't relish the idea that some of the absurd garbage that spews on Texts From Last Night could be submitted by one of my kids.
They could all be gay, all be straight, whatever. It doesn't change anything. I'll accept whomever they are, however they are.
However.
That doesn't mean we don't have some valid concerns. No, we don't know in which direction Kevin is headed, and we'll do whatever we have to in order to help him find his way if he needs it, but I do worry about the judgment he'll get at the hands of others, and I worry how difficult high school is going to be for him. How tormented will he be, or will he be at all? Is he the kid we pull out of parochial school in favor of public, just to save his sanity? Would it even matter?
Whether my youngest is gay or straight or bisexual, he marches to his own drumbeat; his interests certainly give one pause, and the older he gets the more obvious the differences between him and Alex at the same age become. He skirts around the stereotype; he loves the arts, particularly the grace of dance, he's developing a killer sense of fashion, he's slightly built, and he simply has that vibe.
He's also got a major crush on Elizabeth (he still practically says her name in italics) and talks about “someday” being married with kids.
None of it means anything.
All I care about is what he's facing; either way, unless puberty brings some major changes, people are going to make assumptions about him, and treat him based on those assumptions. People can be cruel and judgmental, and that's not something I want my son to have to face.
It's not something I can completely protect him from; but what his mother and I can do is make sure that all of our kids understand that this home is someplace safe, where they will be loved no matter what, treated with respect no matter what, and that the people with whom they have relationships will be welcome.
Losing My Religion
Alex is a news hound. He's the kid who reads the newspaper every day, and tries to get a few of the headlining stories in before leaving for school. He subscribes to Newsweek and Time, often picks up another news magazine while standing in line at the store, and he surfs around online for updates to the day's news.
Before school this morning he checked the headlines online, and by the time Char was telling him to get his stuff together and come out for breakfast, he'd read this in several incarnations. That he was angry is an understatement, but more than that, sadly, he wasn't surprised.
He brought his laptop out to the table and showed me a few of the articles he'd read, and when I was done reading, before I could even say anything to him, he looked right at me and said, I'm done with it, Dad.
I know he expected an argument, and Rachel and Kevin braced for it (and hoped for it, I think), but it seemed like the wrong thing to do. His belief in organized religion as a whole has eroded over the last few years, and lately he's been increasingly vocal about his specific issues with the Catholic church. Where a few months ago he was agreeable with the idea that he would still function as a church member, partake in school activities and attend church with us every week until he was sixteen, the look on his face this morning was absolute: he is honestly done.
We could force the issue; we are within our parental rights to drag his ass out of bed every Sunday morning and require him to go through the motions, but to what end? The last thing I want to do is foster a systemic disbelief in him, and I don't want to be the catalyst that pushes him to feel as if he needs to prove the absence of theism. If we give him this now, give him the freedom to explore how what he believes fits in with the world he sees, I'm hoping he'll cultivate faith on a level that works for him.
It would have been nice if he had been able to take a few more years to slowly pull away instead of feeling like he was shoved out, but I completely understand where he's coming from, and to be honest, I'm reaching the end of my own religious rope here. The only thing that has me holding onto it is my kids; Char wasn't raised Catholic and doesn't have a particular belief in Catholic dogma. This is something she's done for me, because it was important to me.
Alex has a dozen reasons for wanting to head in his own direction, and I have a gut feeling Kevin will run from it in a few years. Rachel is only there because her friends are; she finds much of it absurd and has almost as many questions as Alex does, but because her entire social life is tied into that school, she'll likely hold on longer.
But when she lets go, I'm not sure there will be anything left of it for me to want to hold onto.
Until Alex started questioning so openly, I honestly did not realize how many of my own doubts that I had. But this morning, just the idea that the man who is supposed to be infallible in matters of the church may have not only covered up a mass molestation by a single priest, but used bribery to achieve that cover up?
This isn't the church I grew up in, not anymore.
Before school this morning he checked the headlines online, and by the time Char was telling him to get his stuff together and come out for breakfast, he'd read this in several incarnations. That he was angry is an understatement, but more than that, sadly, he wasn't surprised.
He brought his laptop out to the table and showed me a few of the articles he'd read, and when I was done reading, before I could even say anything to him, he looked right at me and said, I'm done with it, Dad.
I know he expected an argument, and Rachel and Kevin braced for it (and hoped for it, I think), but it seemed like the wrong thing to do. His belief in organized religion as a whole has eroded over the last few years, and lately he's been increasingly vocal about his specific issues with the Catholic church. Where a few months ago he was agreeable with the idea that he would still function as a church member, partake in school activities and attend church with us every week until he was sixteen, the look on his face this morning was absolute: he is honestly done.
We could force the issue; we are within our parental rights to drag his ass out of bed every Sunday morning and require him to go through the motions, but to what end? The last thing I want to do is foster a systemic disbelief in him, and I don't want to be the catalyst that pushes him to feel as if he needs to prove the absence of theism. If we give him this now, give him the freedom to explore how what he believes fits in with the world he sees, I'm hoping he'll cultivate faith on a level that works for him.
It would have been nice if he had been able to take a few more years to slowly pull away instead of feeling like he was shoved out, but I completely understand where he's coming from, and to be honest, I'm reaching the end of my own religious rope here. The only thing that has me holding onto it is my kids; Char wasn't raised Catholic and doesn't have a particular belief in Catholic dogma. This is something she's done for me, because it was important to me.
Alex has a dozen reasons for wanting to head in his own direction, and I have a gut feeling Kevin will run from it in a few years. Rachel is only there because her friends are; she finds much of it absurd and has almost as many questions as Alex does, but because her entire social life is tied into that school, she'll likely hold on longer.
But when she lets go, I'm not sure there will be anything left of it for me to want to hold onto.
Until Alex started questioning so openly, I honestly did not realize how many of my own doubts that I had. But this morning, just the idea that the man who is supposed to be infallible in matters of the church may have not only covered up a mass molestation by a single priest, but used bribery to achieve that cover up?
This isn't the church I grew up in, not anymore.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Bringing Down the House
As much as it seems like it might be, life in UndrVille Estates is not revolving around my crotch. In fact, other when Char tries to torment me, knowing I don't yet have my doc's clearance to go very far at all, and when I have to pop a pill for the pain (which was only once today and once yesterday, courtesy of Goofy, formerly known as Dingleberry, when he landed on me after leaping off the headboard) it hasn't exactly been a topic of discussion at home.
Over the weekend the topic was term papers and book reports, which required trips to the library and bookstore, and a major discussion on the topic of an essay Alex is drafting for English class. They're spending a few weeks on the journalistic process, and this week they're working on op-ed pieces. He's tackling the subject of the Church as an imperfect entity; Char and I are not at all sure this is a good idea, but the assignment sheet clearly states the subject matter is up to the student and is not graded on the content of their opinion, but the basis for their arguments as supported by fact and the clarity of the writing: spelling and grammar count.
My son is going to shred the Catholic church. In an English class held in a Catholic school.
His arguments are well thought out and he has plenty of supporting research material (as it applies to his opinion) and he has the ability to write the essay without it becoming a bullying statement, but Char and I keep bringing up the same point: it's a Catholic school, son, and this is not going to go over well.
He'll either get an A, or get suspended. He won't get expelled, because if he goes so do Rachel and Kevin, and along with it all that tuition money and the random “donations” throughout the school year.
Alex will back down and write something else if we insist, but how can we? We've spent fourteen years raising this kid to think and speak for himself, and we've encouraged him to voice his opinion as long as he can state it without attacking someone personally and without making the target of his opinion feel stupid or worthless. He can do this and maintain respect; we can't tell him to not write the essay.
That doesn't make us feel at ease with it.
Tomorrow he and Char expect to get their test results. Who knows, he may go out in a blaze of glory and find life will be much more comfortable out of high school. I hope not, but we're bracing for it.
Over the weekend the topic was term papers and book reports, which required trips to the library and bookstore, and a major discussion on the topic of an essay Alex is drafting for English class. They're spending a few weeks on the journalistic process, and this week they're working on op-ed pieces. He's tackling the subject of the Church as an imperfect entity; Char and I are not at all sure this is a good idea, but the assignment sheet clearly states the subject matter is up to the student and is not graded on the content of their opinion, but the basis for their arguments as supported by fact and the clarity of the writing: spelling and grammar count.
My son is going to shred the Catholic church. In an English class held in a Catholic school.
His arguments are well thought out and he has plenty of supporting research material (as it applies to his opinion) and he has the ability to write the essay without it becoming a bullying statement, but Char and I keep bringing up the same point: it's a Catholic school, son, and this is not going to go over well.
He'll either get an A, or get suspended. He won't get expelled, because if he goes so do Rachel and Kevin, and along with it all that tuition money and the random “donations” throughout the school year.
Alex will back down and write something else if we insist, but how can we? We've spent fourteen years raising this kid to think and speak for himself, and we've encouraged him to voice his opinion as long as he can state it without attacking someone personally and without making the target of his opinion feel stupid or worthless. He can do this and maintain respect; we can't tell him to not write the essay.
That doesn't make us feel at ease with it.
Tomorrow he and Char expect to get their test results. Who knows, he may go out in a blaze of glory and find life will be much more comfortable out of high school. I hope not, but we're bracing for it.
Saturday, March 20, 2010
At 4 a.m.
He sat up in bed, looked around the room like he was confused, and said, "It's just a BB gun. What could go wrong?"
I think I'm glad he keeps his guns under serious lock and key.
I think I'm glad he keeps his guns under serious lock and key.
Friday, March 19, 2010
It's 3 am I must be...something
In a twist, me winding up in the hospital under the knife was a good thing for the kids, especially Kevin. Neither of us realized how much Char's accident and long hospital stay was still in the back of his mind, but when we told the kids I was having surgery, he had a mini-meltdown. We tried to stress that all that would happen was the removal of what was basically a big, deep zit, but he only heard surgery and hospital.
He understands that as bad as it looked the first time he saw his mother in the hospital, that she recovered, got better, and is fine now, but I don't think any of her progress has erased that horrible feeling he had. He panicked, and there wasn't a whole lot either of us could say to make him feel better.
Alex and Rachel wanted basic information (they got no specifics) and were satisfied with the answers they got, but we weren't sure they felt as good about it as they tried to make us think.
When they told me I was staying overnight, Char called Brad and told him to bring the kids. By then I was awake and alert, a little drugged up but not badly, and while it hurt, I could sit up in bed. Alex and Rachel came in the room as if it was normal; Kevin had to be coaxed in.
His relief was obvious. He was fighting the image in his head of Dad flat on his back with tubes and wires everywhere, but what he saw was Dad sitting up, smiling, one IV line, wearing that ridiculous hospital gown. He wanted to crawl up on the bed with me, and I was prepared to suck it up and let him, but Alex put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him with, They punched a hole in his junk, I don't think you sitting up there will feel very good.
Instead of upsetting him, just the idea of someone doing things to my junk made Kevin laugh.
I don't think Rachel wanted to hear that, though, because she let this long, perfect teenaged girl sigh out, and grumbled that she was ready to go home.
But who would have guessed, our youngest actually needed something like this in order to really grasp that things aren't always ugly at the outset when you're hospitalized.
No announcements; it's almost 3:30 in the morning and I couldn't sleep, and there's no way I'm waking Char up for anything.
He understands that as bad as it looked the first time he saw his mother in the hospital, that she recovered, got better, and is fine now, but I don't think any of her progress has erased that horrible feeling he had. He panicked, and there wasn't a whole lot either of us could say to make him feel better.
Alex and Rachel wanted basic information (they got no specifics) and were satisfied with the answers they got, but we weren't sure they felt as good about it as they tried to make us think.
When they told me I was staying overnight, Char called Brad and told him to bring the kids. By then I was awake and alert, a little drugged up but not badly, and while it hurt, I could sit up in bed. Alex and Rachel came in the room as if it was normal; Kevin had to be coaxed in.
His relief was obvious. He was fighting the image in his head of Dad flat on his back with tubes and wires everywhere, but what he saw was Dad sitting up, smiling, one IV line, wearing that ridiculous hospital gown. He wanted to crawl up on the bed with me, and I was prepared to suck it up and let him, but Alex put a hand on his shoulder and stopped him with, They punched a hole in his junk, I don't think you sitting up there will feel very good.
Instead of upsetting him, just the idea of someone doing things to my junk made Kevin laugh.
I don't think Rachel wanted to hear that, though, because she let this long, perfect teenaged girl sigh out, and grumbled that she was ready to go home.
But who would have guessed, our youngest actually needed something like this in order to really grasp that things aren't always ugly at the outset when you're hospitalized.
No announcements; it's almost 3:30 in the morning and I couldn't sleep, and there's no way I'm waking Char up for anything.
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