Mid-CenturyModernMoms

Regression

I'm starting to tear my hair out about Abe hibernating in his cave.

The deal when he moved home was that he was going to a) keep his room almost as clean as he had to at school, b) use the exercise room, c) go out to events and not just sit around his room playing on the computer and d) keep himself clean.

He was doing great with all of these when he first came home from school and all throughout the summer.  But now that the school year has started, all of these have just fallen off.

I vocally remind him to take his shower and brush his teeth.  Sometimes I remind him when I get a sensory cue, or I see the oil on his hair.

But Abe is close to 6 feet tall, and weighs over 220 pounds, so it's not like when he was a baby and I could pick him up.

One of the things that I'm doing (he doesn't know this yet) is removing him from the advanced (pay for) player category on his multi-player computer game.  He'll be back down to standard (free) level and it won't be as much fun.  Right now, he literally spends 6-10 (or more) hours each day on that game.  Too much!!!  And therefore, he doesn't go to sleep until 2-4 am, and sometimes misses classes.

I had found a social group, a pizza and games night, that he enjoyed.  But this last month, it was just too much work for him to RSVP for it.  He'd rather spend in on the massive player computer game.

If Rosie didn't need the computer/internet access, I'd totally disable the internet each night when I go to sleep.

HELP!!

 

Driving Test

Abe had a driving test the other day.  No, not the one to get his license- he has had that for about a year and a half.

Something went wrong with the car while he was driving.

I was actually concerned that this might happen, and was following him for a short distance, in going from one place to another. (Actually Rosie was driving).  So when his car stopped in the middle of the entrance ramp onto the highway, we pulled in front of him and I ran back to him.  He was trying to get it going, but, no luck.

But he was calm and collected (and not screaming his head off).  So I gave him my cell phone (he is going to get his own after he graduates and we come back from vacation) and told him to pull his AAA card out and get the car towed to the dealership.

And he did.  And he'd already told the people there the background when I came to pick him up.

I was very proud of him and his behavior.  (But not so proud of my 9 year old car!)

Extra Responsibilities

This is Ora reporting for our dear Margalit, who once again has taken a turn for the worse and is in the hospital.  Yuk!!

So Ora has extra responsibilities.  Why?  Because I am Margalit's health care proxy.  And by the way, everyone is really worried about the Boy and the Girl.

What? You don't have a health care proxy?

You simply must take care of this at once- especially if you are single.  A spouse is assumed to be able to make medical decisions for you in cases of emergency, but what if you don't have a spouse (or worse, you do but you don't want him/her making your medical decisions!)

It's a simple form.  Margalit and I did ours through a lawyer, but you can easily download a copy for your state off of the web and get it signed and notarized.  Make sure that you tell the person you've picked what you've done, because they don't have to sign the form.

But in Margalit's case, the hospital (her standard one) was very concerned about the Boy since he was just recently released from a hospitalization to change his meds and we are all worried that he won't take the meds and won't go to his day program (he's started down that road already).

And, of course, the girl is very upset too.

And poor Ora is trying to manage all the stuff going on in her life, run to the hospital every day, check on the Boy and the Girl and juggle calls to and from the hospital. 

Rosie, though, always comes through in an emergency.  She received the first phone call from the hospital looking for me and gave them my cell number.  She offered to give up going to one of her drivers' ed classes to ease up on running around time.

The first night it seemed on the dire side for Margalit, but she is much better now.  The seizure didn't cause too many lasting effects- but she needed to be in the hospital anyway to deal with her congestive heart failure.  I think that she'll be there for a while.

Meanwhile, Ora is trying to juggle better.

What's good for the gander is good for the goose

The Roo-girl once told me that I was tougher on her than I ever was on her older brothers.

That I yell more. That I'm stricter. That I never got all over the boys for stuff I get all over her about.

When Roo got in my face about this, I reminded her that when the bigger boys were her age, she was too little to remember. Her oldest brother is just over 13 years older than she is, after all!

I mentioned this conversation to her brother Z-man yesterday.

And he fell on the floor laughing.

Apparently, despite my advancing age and decreasing hormones, I'm relieved to know that I'm pretty consistent in the parenting department.

High on Z's list of things he hated as a teen but has filed away for use later (much MUCH later when he thinks he would actually like to have children!), is "the complete plan."

Yes, you may go to the mall with your friend -- when I have a complete plan. Who is going? Who is taking you there? Who is picking you up? Is it me? What time? And if your plans change, I expect an as-soon-as-possible phone call to let me know.

I view this as self-preservation in a way. Because not only does/did it force my kids to think ahead, but it makes/made them attempt to be considerate of their mother.

Because it is/was likely that one of the drivers IS/WAS going to be me, and the idea of going out to pick up a child at 10 p.m. at the movies might or might not be convenient on any given day.

Especially these given days. As I have fewer underage children to concern myself with, I tend to make plans for myself and my husband.

Imagine the nerve of us parents actually having a life!!!

Also these days, what I love the best about having adult children is having an adult conversation with my almost-21-year-old son about the way I raised him and the value he now sees in some of the things he despised when he was a teen.

"Oh, I totally get it," he said to me when we talked about "the complete plan" yesterday. "And it was the right thing to do."

YESSSSSSS!

When you can't predict the problem

My son has a friend with Aspergers. He has other problems too, but Aspergers is the one that is blamed for his behavior when it leans perilously over the edge of normality. Since this friend T is over 19 years old, he doesn't recieve any services for his issues because our state has cut mental health care to the bone and beyond. As is, Department of Mental Health? Gone.

Anyhow, yesterday afternoon I got a phone call from T's mom, and she was not a happy camper. Seems T has stolen her checkbook and wrote out a bunch of checks he tried to cash. And he convinced my daughter and her boyfriend to drive him into the "ghetto" to various western union stores to try and cash said checks. Now the Mom didn't know about the driving part. She had no clue as to how her son went all over Cambridge and Boston when she started investigating. And she called me because T threw my son under the bus and blamed him for the whole thing.

Except, my son is dysgraphic and doesn't know cursive. He can't even sign his OWN signature, never mind make out a check. I asked about the handwriting and she said that T implied that my daughter had written out the checks. But she can't STAND T and she isn't a moron and knows about banking. No way would she have taken part in this.

Am I ticked that this kid blamed both of my kids for this crime? Well, yes, but he has apergers and a lot of his issues are not understanding rules and regulations. Which is why he is NOT allowed on our property anymore. No way would I let him in the house.

After talking at length to both of my kids, I got the whole story. Of course, my son lied for his friend, but when confronted with what his sister said, he came clean. And now he's ticked off at T (thank goodness) and realizes that T isn't a good friend. So there is that!

But what I got out of this whole experience was how sad this poor mom was. She knows her kid is in trouble and yet there is nothing she can do about it because help costs hundreds of thousands of dollars and only Dr Phil can afford it. That's why those families go on his show and bare their souls. I honestly don't know when it became OK to just stop caring for our mentally ill chilcfen. Oh, I"m lying. I do know. Ronald Reagan decided that government didn't need to care for the mentally ill anymore. His government decided that families should take care of thes children, except it's just too hard. To live in conflict every day of your life his so stressful, and as your kids get older thay also get more creative about self-medicating. Not a good situation.

I wish I could help T's mom, but the truth is, my hands are so full with my own son, currently in the hospital again, that I can't really reach out to her. If I could, I would. 

Summer Work

Now that Abe has gotten at least one (but only one) college acceptance, is the time to turn our thoughts to what he is going to do over the summer.

Option One (his preferred choice): sit inside at home all day and play computer and video games

Option Two: get a job

I pick option Two.

But what job?

He probably only has 6 weeks at home full time (maybe 7-8 depending on when classes and orientation start).  And do I want him to have a job during the school year?

And how much work should Mom put in to this effort?

The simple solution is to have him work for our friend and handyman, L.  Abe has often worked for L in the past.  But this is dependent on L having the contracts, as well as enough work to take on an extra helper.  But that's lined up and now I don't have to think about it.

But the other day, I was talking to Abe at school and I guess that his therapist had brought this very idea up for discussion.

This is what they came up with, subject to approval by the school.

(Hold your horses, don't ask yet why a job for a High School graduate is subject to approval by the high school!)

First a little bit of background info:  In the two summers that Abe has been at the FLC boarding school, we has opted into electives about working in the garden.

So the possible idea is that Abe be a gardener for the school over the summer.  While living at home.  And getting paid.  And starting work at 7 am.

Only the 7 am threw Abe.  But I reminded him that I get up for work at 6 am anyway and he'd just have to get up a few minutes earlier to eat, take his meds and brush his teeth.  Before driving 45 minutes to work (which is something that lots of people do around here).

So it's a possibility.  And it's not one that Mom set up.  Wow.

Clean House, but can it sell?

The house is on the market.  Now I just have to worry about whether or not it will sell quickly.  But take a look at what we've done.

The stager said to drastically empty out the bookshelves and to arrange books by color.  (Of course, she wanted us to rent books from her, too.)

(None of Rosie's stuff dropped in the front hall)

Nothing out in the kitchen.

But can you believe Rosie's room?

Or Abe's room?

But of course, these were the pictures that were taken for the MLS (Multiple Listing Service) listing, and it's impossible to keep it looking like this.  But, we just had the brokers' open house and it was looking like this again.  The cleaning ladies came in that morning, but also Ora went crazy making sure that Rosie cleaned up. (Abe went back to school.)

But I can't get Rosie to keep it in this condition for all of the regular Open Houses.  Her room was clean, but I wouldn't say that it was tidy.  There was a lot of stuff on the tops of her dressers, and we won't even go into the desk....

But hopefully, anxiety-provoking hopefully, it will be okay.  The broker called that someone (probably from an open house) wants an accompanied showing of  the house, but early on Saturday morning!!! (Awful time!)  So keep your fingers crossed.  No reasonable offer rejected.  Actually, unreasonable offers won't be rejected either, just countered.

I'm burnt out on maintaining the house-especially with these incredibly messy teenagers.  Abe doesn't care and so he won't, while Rosie could but also won't.  And then there is the cost.  It was okay with two salaries, but with one it's a constant draw against funds.  Luckily, there are the funds, but even more than that it's the time to do all of the upkeep.  I ended up looking earlier for a new place than I had planned because I got frustrated with all of the leaf-raking yard work.  And then there is the snow shoveling.......

Wish us all luck.  We'll move into the new place in March (and then the big concern will be where will all of the extra "stuff" get stored!)

Blokey Sensibilities

My Davey's a lovely kid. He's aware of other people's needs, he's caring and considerate. He's funny, observant and switched on - even when he doesn't appear to be.

He's also as lazy as I'll allow him to be with household chores. Sometimes that's pretty lazy because time constraints and being too lazy to nag remind him, or think of consequences, I just do the chore and get on with life. (I'm sure you're all familiar with the equation: 20 minutes of nagging timely reminders versus 2 minutes, or less, to do the job yourself.) I also know that's not a good pattern, long term. One of Em's 17 year old school friends is a much loved and longed for only child to older parents. His Mum still packs his school bag for him every morning. Books, pencil case, lunch, extra money. Everything. If something's not in his bag that he needs, it's not his fault. That's not healthy at 17. It's made me realise that some of the things I do for Davey are not healthy at 14. (For the record, I haven't packed his school bag since, well, ever!)

I asked Davey to help vacuum the lounge room a few weeks ago and he kept avoiding it. Eventually he told me he'd rather do an outside job, not something so.... He didn't finish the sentence, but I heard what he was saying. He wanted a blokey job. He's beginning to feel that he wants to be treated as a young man. Now in this household that won't preclude vacuuming altogether (his Dad always vacuumed more than I did!), but if he wants to do some blokier jobs, that could be arranged. He was immediately given the job of washing the car (we have a station wagon and live on the side of a hill with an awkward driveway, so it's not an easy task), and he was satisfied. It also took him a lot longer to wash the car than it did for me to vacuum, so it was a good deal in my book.

The next thing I did was to ask my friend who was sort of regularly mowing our lawn to stop doing so. I felt this was a job Davey needed to have responsibility for. I know he'll hate it at times, and I'll hate having to nag remind him, but it will give him a sense of ownership of our yard and blokey feelings of satisfaction. Mind you, he'll feel a lot more satisfaction when he doesn't have to have Mum start the mower for him!

Often when I tell Davey I did a job for him because it needed to be done immediately and he wasn't around for one reason or another, he's cheekily responded with "I win!". This time I think it's me that's winning. I no longer have to wonder if I need to allow for lawn mowing in my weekend, as my friend may or may not turn up to mow the lawn during the week, because my friend won't be turning up. Davey will be doing it and building up his blokey sensibilities.

I win.  And Davey wins too - it probably just won't feel like it to him.

Home Alone

Margalit's kids are home alone.  Margalit is back in the hospital to try to figure out why she keeps having to go into the hospital.  Of course, what was supposed to have been 2 days at a major Boston hospital has now been extended to 8-9 days.  But the Boy and the Girl have been by themselves, with drop ins from lots of adults checking on them.

Ora can report that the house had not been destroyed and that the kids were not fighting with each other- although we won't talk about the pile of dirty dishes in the sink!

Even though Margalit's kids drive her absolutely crazy, they seem to have risen to the unfortunately more frequent occasion and are growing up.  Wow.

Hopefully, she'll be released soon, with some answers.  She is okay, but everything is just taking lots longer than it should.  And while Margalit is luxuriating in the spa known as Brigham & Womens, she has had more than her share of bloggable moments, mostly centered on the elderly roommates that she has had to endure.  It seems that if you are sick and old in the Boston area, you get a free pass to yell at any nurse or aide for any reason, preferably in a language other than English.  Regardless of what your original language is the ability to understand simple compounds in English is beyond the capabilities of her roommates.  The best was the Portuguese lady who didn't know that you had to push a button to answer the phone!  Margalit will hopefully be back at full strength in the coming weeks.  But meanwhile, the Boy and the Girl will continue to do her proud as they show their independence.

Of carrots and sticks

Rebekah has had friends visiting this week, sisters from out of town. A week-long sleepover party!!!

I am very, very, very tired.

It's not so much that they want drives when I would normally be in bed. (Drives which I can give because we are renting a car this week. Dammit.) Not that.

It's not even that, when you show up in said rental car, only one of them is there, the other two having had some inexplicable but entirely irressistable brain fart and are now IN ANOTHER PROVINCE.

(Okay, so the "other province" is Quebec, a mere two km away, easily accessible by city busses. Point is, they were supposed to be HERE, at this time, and now they're THERE, and won't end up at the house for another hour and a half. And I, because of that damnable Momma Clock, will be awake until that happens.)

I will hereby note for the record that the teen who was WHERE she said she'd be WHEN she said she'd be there was MINE. Yes, this makes me feel a little smug. You would, too, I'm betting.

No, it's not that stuff... though none of it was especially helpful in my quest for a Full Night's Sleep.

No, it's the activity. Even when they're quiet -- and to their credit, they are -- they move around, doors open and close, water runs, toilets flush, there are footsteps in the hall, odors from the kitchen (at 2 am), muted giggles (all night long). Strangely, I just don't sleep as well when all that's going on.

And then when I come downstairs and discover (for the second morning in a row) the detritus from their midnight snacking all over the counters? I'm tired all over again. Popcorn bags, pots, bowls, spoons, cups litter the stovetop, sink and counters. Pasta sauce is smeared here, parmesan cheese is scattered there.

The first morning, I cleaned all that up. Stupid, I know. I was tired. Of course, I paid the price for my laziness. You all knew I would, didn't you? I mean, it's so predictable. Kind of dopey the way I can do this to myself. I know -- we all know, through bitter experience repeated endlessly down through the years -- that if I let something slide once, it'll only happen again. If it bothered me once, it's only going to bug me more when it happens again. And it WILL happen again, because I didn't stop it the first time!

I know this. Yet still I cleaned it up that first morning.

So of course, the kitchen was a mess again this morning. Duh. And of course, I was tired all over again... but this time, I was also Fed Up. The selfishness of teens is really quite astounding. Could you imagine yourself as a houseguest and trashing someone's kitchen overnight? I can't. Can't IMAGINE doing it. Never, ever, not once in a million years. Never mind nightly for a week.

(And no, they didn't get away with it nightly for a week. But we all know they WOULD have, if I hadn't gone all mom on their oblivious asses.)

Five minutes later, they're downstairs cleaning up. Without complaint because really, they are good kids. Ten minutes after that, they're on their way back to bed. (Good kids, and efficient.) Bed, where they will stay until, oh, two in the afternoon. Sleep and sleep and sleep. All day long. (How can they DO that? Don't they MISS sunlight?? If it didn't give me hours and hours of lovely peace and quiet, I'd wake them up and MAKE them be diurnal. But why would I do that to myself?)

So, now that I'm done telling you all about this, I think I'll just go sit on the porch in the early morning sunlight, and enjoy my quiet, grown-up cup of tea... and dream of Sunday, when they all go home, when I, too, shall sleep and sleep and sleep.

Aaaaahhh...