Leaving Oz

My Son Broke My Mom's Nose

Our much anticipated visit to my parents' home at the end of September was fraught with one challenge after another.  About ten days before I was to leave for Ohio, I had arguably the biggest fight with my mom that I've had since living outside of her house.  Raised voices, locked doors, hanging up on one another... it was bad.  I almost cancelled the trip, but I knew that would be a mistake made in the heat of my emotion. 

Then, after my mother and I reconciled which was a small miracle (thank you, Lord!), the power went out in my parents' home for seven days.  Every day, I would call, as the date for our departure drew nearer, and ask, "Is it on yet?" 

And she would reply, "Not yet.  Maybe tomorrow." 

The Empty (but Cleaner) Nest

I have a powerful urge to clean house.  Without my teenager daughter's charisma in the house, I don't want her chaos.  So, from Day 1, I've been erasing at least the messiest reminders of her.

She was never a tidy child.  Her room was her own wild space.  Her college admissions essay told the story of "cleaning her room" with a friend, but really dumping everything in the closet and only sorting it out years later.

Partly my reasons are charitable.  In three weeks, when she returns from her wilderness experience with other freshmen, I'll join her at college for orientation.  I'm bringing her computer and printer, and have room to throw in anything really essential that she's left behind.  (And yes, some of this clutter will be passed on to Hope Services or Goodwill.)

Free the Captive?

Mom, I HATE this camp.  I want to quit!” fumed my 13-year-old son Erik when I picked him up after his first day of Computer Music camp.   

I signed him up for this camp because Erik is addicted to computers and video games and is used to being bathed in computer-screen radiation.  He also hates being exposed to the elements and doing anything that requires unnecessary physical exertion.  And because of the computers, I figured it would be indoors and air-conditioned – his preferred habitat.  He’s also talented at music, so it seemed like a good idea to give him a chance to try putting computers and music together.  But it obviously wasn't working out for him.

The next morning, I spoke with the instructor to see if he would be willing to spend a little more time with Erik since he was a beginner.  The instructor assured me that he would and then divulged that the first day they had encountered numerous computer problems which made the day more chaotic than it should have been.  I left feeling hopeful that the second day would go better.

But it didn’t.  If anything, it got worse.  My husband and I now faced a parenting dilemma:  Do we let Erik quit, or force him to continue to go, subjecting him to several hours a day of torture for the rest of the week? 

Surviving the Summer Without Preschool

"Looook, Mommy! .. I have a silly hat!"  TJ runs headlong into me with a plastic bin over his head, giving me a headbutt as I try to clean off the kitchen counter.  Ouch!  That hurt!

Yep. This is what I signed up for as a stay-at-home/work-at-home mom.  I started my own online business so that I can have my own flex hours and be able to hang out with TJ during the day.

Little did I know that my summer without preschool was gonna be tougher than I thought.

"Aaaahhhh...", I thought, drifting into my romanticized motherhood day dream. "Summer is gonna be great!  We can go to the beach, have picnic with friends, and hit the swimming pools.  Finally, TJ has passed the baby stage.  He's old enough to actually understand (somewhat) fun activities, can withstand more than 15 minute car ride, and is flexible with his nap times."  Day by day, I chart out his calendar so we can have some summer fun.

But still, I can't always be out and about, like some camp counselor day in and day out.