I know ... right?

just a glimpse into the teen vernacular...



" that's what SHE said! "

" T.M.I. Mom "        (too much information...  unless you know video-game-talk = too many items/input)
 
" ... who knew? "


" I'm a teen, Mom ...   it's what teens do "

" Yah, like, right"

" Whaaat? "  (after this one ... the next sentence usually mimics that s l o w speech pattern)

" yah, I know, right?

~

As a mom of a teen and tween, it seems parent vocabulary is seriously affected too...

~

" nice try "

" wonder how that will work out for you? "

" I love you too much to argue "

" that's what PARENTS' say "  

" teens, who knew? "

" hmm, I'm a Mom ~ that's what Mom's do "

" ... TMI gotta love it "

Honestly though I have no complaints ... since in between all the other stuff I still get to hear ...

tee hee....  I know ... right?

     H o n u  g i r l                         

TGIF … and then comes

Monday

I distinctly recall it being Friday and thinking TGIF!! More than ever the weekend sounds perfectly inviting after graduating from my 8^th week of training. Didn't have to cook dinner - Tony took the boys and me out for dinner to celebrate!!

Oh how sweet it is that the weatherman says the sun will definitely cooperate with my need for a little R&R in the hot sun.

Then came Saturday when I spent the day inside helping my Mom clean her fridge; babysit my niece so Grandparents can nap; help Dad clean the office and setup a printer; I even remember buying groceries (which I usually try hard to forget). Hummph, no sunshine for me I stayed mostly indoors except the few times I retrieved the indoor cat from outdoors.

Okay, so I went tanning with my little sis we could swap stories on the drive over/back (since I haven't called her).

Strangely it is Sunday; I am skipping church to help my parents – they are going to sell the house and haven't purged anything for quite a few years; which requires a lot of objective sorting, recycling and donating. Uhh, well I helped sort Dad's office until he threw up the white flag – completely overwhelming. I took Mom shopping – (note to self: never believe the weather report) running through mud puddles wearing capris and flip flops is so NOT cool!!

Sunday night at home I am in a full fledged parenting moment with my son over his refusal to attend camp this week. His options are: "go and have a good time or good and be miserable – the choice is yours; let me know how it works out!"

As if by some freaky time warp now it's Monday. I remember working; leaving early for an appointment with my eye doctor (yes, my friend – I did say EYE doctor). I have let this eye thing go so long that very close friends have to 'nag' (or pretend to not sound like they are nagging, right King?) to convince me that it's important. … So then the cute eye doctor says I need reading glasses as he coyly infers that "time" makes that happen. Yeah, right along with gravity (wait that's wrinkles) and stress (that's gray hair) – then again, some things remain healthy and intact (appetite is just fine, thanks).

But at home I am blessed to hear how my son thought camp was great and asked if I was still going to "let" him attend the rest of the week. =)

I realize it's the weekend is over, so Happy Monday!!

Thank God for another day... and a chance to blog!

HonuGirl

It’s a conversation, not combat…

Self-control would be helpful.

 

He’s robust… taller than his peers, by at least six inches; has a solid build carried by feet currently sized at a manly 9½.

 

He’s outgoing and friendly… no one is a stranger; always lending assistance to others.

 

He’s articulate… expresses his thoughts and opinions with anyone willing to listen

 

He’s confident… gives oral presentations without fear.

 

He’s respectful… walks around the car to open my door; extends a hand for support.

 

He’s creative and artistic… loves to write fantastical stories; invent, design, and create; drawing pictures to express the many facets of his stories, designs or emotions.

 

He’s a guy of tender spirit… acknowledging heart matters more than life’s tasks.

 

He’s intelligent and smart… academics seem easy; common sense is natural.

 

He’s witty… loves to share stories and quips to make others smile, giggle, and laugh out loud.

 

He’s affectionate… holds my hand on the couch reading books, during movies; and says “I love you” frequently.

 

He’s a great, no an incredible writer… anyone reading his stories is awed by his talent.

 

He’s only weeks away from being 11 years old… on Thanksgiving Day. 

 

He’s a man in the making… shoe size, body odors, and preadolescent interests publicize the undeniable proof.

 

 

He’s my son… it brings tears to my eyes.

 

 

Not only the sentiment in that statement.  But so much more.

 He’s my son...

Acknowledgement. Gratitude. Identity. Acceptance. Pride. Reminiscence. Relationship. Compassion. Delight. Love.

 

~

 

Friday was his school conference.  Revealing, as usual, his brilliance.  He’s advanced in every subject.  Completes his work ahead of time.  Excels in reading and math far beyond grade.  (Not intended to sound like bragging.)  

 

The given description frames a picture of a very confident, talented, kid with a lot of potential being unveiled.  Written this way intentionally to ensure you fully understand how I felt during his late night revelation.

 

 

My heart sunk as this son (almost my size) ended his long, tearful disclosure with “Mom, it’s just hurts.” 

 He’s my son…

Love. Rescue.  Protection.  Combat. Anger. Frustration. Sadness. Worry. Comfort.

 

… and a little of “don’t you dare” just for kicks!

 

 

How can any peer look up (literally) at my son and say “I think you’re stupid;” or tease him about caring for the special needs kids and his defending others, as he is big enough to ward off potential harm to them.  

 

Yet, this courageous giant in my world has a wounded spirit.   Hmmph!

 

Then with a sniffle, he continued sheepishly… “Mom, sometimes I want to punch them in the nose – but I know it’s wrong.”

 

Truth is… me too!!  

 

~

 

I know how he feels, I feel the same way and… I’ve found that those peers of childhood grow up to be adults who use words as weapons.  

 

They use conversations as battlegrounds and remain combative toward open-minded ideas.  Rather than learn to develop a positive self-concept they throw daggers at others with intent to wound or sting; thereby avoiding potential intimacy or personal responsibility.

 

Grrr.

 

~

 

So there he sat on the couch pulling in his bottom lip and blinking away the last of his tears. 

 

I guess it comes down to being courageous enough to know who you are and what that means to you, not them.  Not everyone can face themselves in the mirror and say I like me enough to let you know me too.  When I accept me… I am open to accepting others.

 

However, sometimes in combat or conversation we have to pull out a shield and arm ourselves with a confident self-concept to defuse the weapon of words being used on the battlefield.   You must follow the rules of engagement set out at school… be kind, safe, and responsible.

 

Maintaining a lot of self-control to not punch someone in the nose.

HonuGirl

If you only knew …

“You’ll thank me for this later…”

    Yesterday was my garage sale. I say no more. You didn’t really believe that 'no more' stuff – hah! Whew. I’m tired. I’m glad it’s over. 

   Good things happen though - my piggy is a few bucks fuller (well 3 piggys) – my boys sold stuff too. It wasn’t the boys weekend at home, but they were allowed to come 'help' for a few hours (selling their stuff for $ = good)… then returned to their Dad’s to finish out the weekend. It was a mixed bag of “so-called fun” for the boys inasmuch as: they had boring waits, hard decisions to accept less $ for their stuff, distractions as they played with friends (whose mom’s weren’t even shopping – hello?), fighting with each other and friends, talking about their beach trip with ATV (show & tell w/bruises from sand dunes – ouch), fun counting the $$, facing things that didn’t go their way… and ohhh so much more.

The most challenging moments in a day are when my boys suffer! Well I'm not squeamish over physical pain that I can take (blood no problem for me)… yet, it wasn’t that, nor was it financial, this ughhh was HEART pain. Those moments of suffering where a parent can choose to take over … or just listen (trying desperately not to cry). Oh… don’t get me wrong – I am fully capable of pulling off one big BAD full-alert whirring helicopter rescue mission to protect, kiss, and FIX whatever ails them… but what would they learn?

Yeah, not so much; I figure it’s not as critical for them to know that Mom understands what to do, has the skill to accomplish it, and even has the internal, emotional strength/courage to carry out the task… that, unfortunately, needs to be a learned self-concept for each of my babies, uhh, boys to own for himself. It’s a blessed feeling. To believe in yourself – to know and to accept the truth about self: I am brave enough; I have what it takes; I am worthy of being heard; I will make a choice to walk with my head high; I can do this without being rescued… I am not alone, but at the same time a supportive, caring parent will encourage me to step up and swing at any pitch! (Not exactly what I had when I was a kid – but I commit to not steal any opportunity from my boys.) However. This also means that I can’t grab them by the shoulders and say:

I know it feels bad now, but you WILL thank me for this when you are a man!! Yes, really you will. I know, you hate me. =( again. Nevertheless if I step in to fix it for you – rescue you from this pain – you will not learn how to do it for yourself and you may hate me now AND later. So, while you may feel a twinge of anger and hate toward me for NOT taking on your challenge for you… I still commit to give you this gift now. In the hope that you will have a blessed future and you may thank me one day, when …

• you face your challenges head-on
• you are humble enough to say sorry
• you are complimented for being a good listener
• you think before you speak
• you reach for a hand to shake rather than clenching your fist to meet another’s chin
• you live your words in your actions
• you let God take care of retribution, as you choose forgiveness
• you know each action has a consequence and you have chosen well
• you have learned that love is sometimes as simple as being quiet when you desperately want to “fix it” for that special person in your life…

Then again, I won’t hold my breath right now for such gratitude – hmmm, maybe there’s hope that some ‘future-friend or spouse’ will hug me and say “thank you” for raising such a good man!! If only they knew. . . garage sales are not all about the $$ some things are free.

Storm's Over . . .

"The Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades" Did you experience the thunder storm this morning? I sure did. It was surprising. Incredibly loud. Frustrating too – I had to run to my car (with workout bag, purse, energy drink & keys) during a deluge. Frightening - as I worried a little when only a moment passed between each bolt of lightening and those thunderous roars. Yikes! Later, it was déjà vu. As that wasn’t the only storm of my day. Not too long after the morning storm passed – weather was no longer my concern. I was faced with a storm less threatening physically but certainly a storm of its own kind: emotions – aggravation, turmoil and words are the lightening, thunder and rain that poured only a few hours after my boys returned home. It’s not people or circumstance that determines this (or so I pray) but perhaps the idea that transition must occur on a regular basis; and no matter how long it’s been – they are children of structure. Space and time (and toys) are very important in their world. It happens every time in some way, some form.

A predictable storm. Often, I feel I am ill-equipped to cope… it may even take a while to process the what / why & how of managing the storms that arise. However, today I was not overwhelmed by the perceived power of the storm; I held my ground. In terms of parenting, I believe that I am not alone. I parent with the perfect trifecta of Heavenly Fatherhood for my boys. I claim the truth of God’s word for wisdom, strength, and grace. Framing what it means to love one another takes the terror from the sounds of thunder. Describing how precious each child is to God, to me – as each brother loves the other (as friends for life) soothes the fear that lightening may strike a painful blow. Sharing how to use words to love not to hurt quickly dries the rain of tears that reflect a wounded heart. (Not to mention the fact that I will not be producing any more … followed by 'that's obvious Mom'!)

It’s quiet here. There are no demands… my voice is confident, but quietly affirming… I suppress the need to lecture the boys… yet, they are acutely aware – in this home – I insist we speak truth. We review examples of mocking that were just witnessed – these are not truthful words. This needs to stop here, now. I spoke a prayer over their hearts, actions and words… may gratefulness fill their hearts, caring actions be expressed by their hands, and loving words flow freely from their mouths. Then we walked through what a “sincere” apology sounds like; how it feels to give and receive such apology. What a relief. The storm no longer threatens… we are at ease.

Afterward two boys must repair relationship ... they pretend to lovingly, sincerely apologize – we all laugh. It is well with my soul. Finally – my joyful, spirited, courageous, compassionate and incredible offspring are enjoying blue skies. Beaming with the sunshine of laughter, love, and joy they offer to help with laundry, dishes and vacuuming (probably hoping for last week’s allowance) – they work now as a team! What a lovely feeling of hope that remains after a storm has safely passed; the smell of first rain still lingers. The future’s so bright I just gotta wear shades!

HonuGirl