Mid-CenturyModernMoms

The Bike Rides

Abe went out for a ride on his new bike this weekend- actually, he went out for 2 very LONGGGG rides.

 

In order for Abe to have a chance at all at becoming an Eagle Scout in the Boy Scouts, he needed to be made a Star Scout at the June Court of Honor.  He just needed to finish up his biking merit badge with a 35 mile+ bike ride.  His troupmasters decided that he could finish up the ride over the summer and that they would raise him up at the June court.  So they did.

 

We picked up Abe's new bike a few weeks ago, but he didn't ride it as soon as we got it.  Then this was the next time that he was home.  Larry, a family friend, was going to do the long ride with Abe but told him that he had to do a ride on Saturday to get used to the bike.

 

So to give Abe a goal, I checked and it is about 10 miles to Framingham going out on Rt. 30.  Rt. 30 has the advantage of being fairly level and mostly low speed.  And Framingham means either Barnes and Noble at Shopper's World or GameStop, just across the street!

 

Barnes and Noble is was!  Abe set off to buy yet another Dungeons & Dragons (D&D) book.  I gave him my cell phone for emergencies, but also told him to call when he got there (so I wouldn't have to worry).

 

But, no call..... at least until he was ready to begin the return trip home. 

He had no problems with the ride (that he told me about) and got right into the shower to clean up!

 

Sunday, riding with Larry was more of the same.  But they went all over and up and down hills and it really wore Abe out.  He did the last 8-10 miles home on willpower, I guess, since he was totally  pooped.  No major problems, but he did  manage to run into Larry at a red light once because his attention was shot.

 

But hey, all that exercise!!!! Wow!

Update on Ora

Because Ora won't be posting this week, I thought I'd give you a small update as to how she and the family are doing.

Obviously, the funeral was very hard. Abe did so well, acting like such a gentleman and showing what a grown up young man he's become. During the service he cried a big, but his grandma was sitting right next to him and tried to comfort him.

Rosie completely broke down. She brought a teddy bear with her to the service and then to the cemetery and she was clutching onto it for dear life. She sobbed so hard I couldn't watch without sobbing myself, and we ended up all doing the ugly cry. She sat next to Ora who held onto her so tightly, and they both got through the service. A very close friend of J's spoke first and did a wonderful speech that really described J perfectly. Then Ora's brother spoke and gave a very similar speech, both of which focused on the stubborn but resilient parts of J's personality. Even Ora laughed at parts of the speeches.

Then the most amazing thing happened. We all got into our cars to go to the cemetery, and for some inexplicable reason, the state police closed down the entire highway just for us. Nobody in front of us. Nobody behind us. Every entrance blocked by a motorcycle cop, and down we went, 75 or 100 cars long, at 30 mph on a completely empty highway. Every entrance we went by I kept saying "Those people hate us." because we must have made everyone really late. Nobody has ever seen anything quite like this, and we all have relatives buried in the same cemetery and have been there many times. I95 closed for us! How cool is that.

The cemetery part was hard. When that first shovelful of dirt hit the casket we all jumped at the sound. Ora stood off to the side. She couldn't watch and I don't blame her at all. We all did a few shovelfuls and then it was time to leave. No police escort on the way back.

Since the funeral we've been keeping Shiva twice a day every day, and Ora is really visibly better every succeeding day. Her color is back, she's more like herself, and finally all her family has gone home except her dad. And we love him.

That's pretty much it.

Terrific time with teens

We're just back from 4 fabulous days staying in the Sydney CBD.  It's something I've wanted to do for a long time, and with Em in recovery from Prince Charming, now seemed the ideal time to invest some money in a holiday - our first in 4 years.

Living in a regional city is great, however I am conscious of exposing my teenagers to the reality of the wider world.  With Em only 18 months away from leaving home for uni I need to start skilling her up on city living.  You know, things like catching trains, buses, asking for information, and finding the value for money eateries in Chinatown!

For 3 days we walked the city streets visiting mega music stores, high fashion shops, the Apple Store (Davey's favourite), a cathedral where I happen to know the Dean, museums, art galleries and a trip across sparkling Sydney Harbour to Manly on a ferry.  We walked for at least 8 hours each day, yet not a complaint was heard from either Em or Davey.  Apparently I timed this CBD adventure perfectly!

I think my greatest thrill was the NSW Art Gallery. After several hours there I thought we'd finish off with the collection of 19th Century paintings.  Davey, who had been happy enough to see everything thus far, didn't say anything, but as we'd been on our feet for more than 6 hours at this point, clearly would have preferred to start making our way back to our apartment.  However, within 5 minutes of entering the collection, Davey was hooked.  The huge, detailed paintings drew him in with their richness, colour, movement, passion and detail.  There were depictions of gruesome battle scenes, Biblical scenes, domestic life, pastoral idylls - the whole gamut, and it was a joy to watch Davey soak it all up.  It was Em & I who sat patiently on a viewing couch, having finished our tour of the collection, while Davey spent another 45 minutes under its spell.  His school art lessons took on more significance when he happened across the original of a painting his class had been required to copy.  Seeing the original, with brush strokes evident, the scale and tonal qualities as the artist painted it, is so different to a print in a school text book!

I felt that if nothing else worthwhile was achieved on our trip, the seed of enjoying original art had been well planted in Davey, and I was satisfied.

For Em I think the highlight was driving in CBD traffic.  Part of me felt a little reluctant, but Em was keen, so as our time in the big smoke came to an end, it was Em who drove out of our security parking and into the crush of CBD traffic.  Em drove through heavy traffic out to the beachside suburbs where her Dad & I had lived when we were first married, along the iconic Bondi strip where her Dad lived before we were married, then back through the city and over the Harbour Bridge.  Her sense of achievement was well earned as I know many adults who are too afraid to tackle city driving.

When I reasoned it out though, it was the sensible thing to do.  In our state we have to clearly display bright yellow and black L plates, signifying that a learner driver is at the wheel, on both the front and back of the car.  This means that other drivers are (usually) more tolerant and less likely to blast the horn.  The whole idea of requiring learner drivers to have a minimum of 120 hours supervised driving is to expose them to as many different driving situations as possible, to prepare them for driving alone.  With more than 60 hours of driving experience Em was ready for another challenge, and really, city driving isn't all that scary provided you're not in a hurry and don't mind going out of your way if you get caught in the wrong lane.  That mindset takes the stress out of the equation, and as it turned out, Em was able to change lanes easily each time it was necessary. So Em is feeling very smug that she's done something even her cousins in their early 20's have yet to tackle.

To be honest, I'm feeling just a little bit self satisfied about the whole holiday experience.  Terrific time with teens.  Gotta revel in it when it happens!

Sometimes parenting is what you don't say

"I'm thinking of getting a car."

Not too surprising, really. Adam is, after all, almost 20 and in college. He has his bus pass for winter term and rides his bike the 7 km in good weather, and thinks little of it... However, it was the sixth week of what ended up being an eight-week bus strike, and Adam was growing wearing of the makeshift arrangements he was suffering to get to and from his classes.

Not too surprising, but...

"How can you afford a car?" (I am tactfully skipping right past the fact that the boy does not yet have his driver's license. Because I am a kind mama. Besides, getting the license is the easy part. I am also tactfully not blurting out my first response, which is, "Are you CRAZY???")

I am not blurting that out because I am essentially a kind person, but also because Adam, the young man who stands in front of me with possibility and hope in his eyes, my lovely Adam, he asks for so very little. With the girls, it seems (seemed, in the case of the one who now lives on her own) like there's always something they need: clothes, school trip, make-up, replaced textbook, exam fees for specialized courses, new cell phone package, accessories... A constant money bleed, my lovely daughters. But Adam? Adam rarely asks, rarely. If he does ask and I say "there's no money for that", he just takes it on the chin and moves on. He's so spectacularly undemanding, that, when he does ask I don't want to say no. I ache to say yes. Really. Refusing this boy something keeps me up nights. Literally.

But he can't -- he really can't -- afford a car. And I can't afford to get one for him.

"Well, I figure I'll get a used one." I nod, waiting. That's so obvious it barely needs to be stated. "Nick [best friend since grade four] and I have been checking the paper, and we think I can pick one up for less than two thousand dollars."

(Unspoken: "Well, I should hope so!")

"Do you have that saved?"

"No..." He pauses and looks at me carefully. "I was wondering if you could co-sign a loan."

Oh, good lord. This is the boy who forgets to pick up his paycheque, who then forgets to deposit it, who forgets to take out the garbage at least half the time, who forgets to eat, and has been known to forget his own birthday... I am less than ecstatic at the notion of being on the hook for a couple of grand with this person. However, he's not got any student loans yet, because he paid his own tuition this year from his own earnings. He's not irresponsible, he's just fearsomely absent-minded.

But still, I know that he can't afford to run a car. I know that I am not going to co-sign a loan that would be an unpleasant stretch for my finances should he default, as he most likely would. I know that this boy will be unable to afford a car until he has graduated. And found a job.

I have no intention of saying any of this. Not yet. I am hoping that I won't have to say it at all. I am hoping, in fact, that HE will be the one to say it. So, to that end, more questions.

"If you could get the car, how would you manage the running expenses?"

A further few minutes' chat reveals that he has actually thought about gas and insurance. He's underestimated the cost of insurance for a not-quite-20-year-old male, pretty substantially, mind you, and he's even hazier about the costs of maintenance... but he's at least given it some thought.

"Tell you what. I'll look into the logistics of getting a loan, and you can look into insurance." I give him the number of our insurance agent. He nods, pleased that I am onside, and himself quite willing to be part of the team that tackles this project. I cross my fingers.

And three days later, when we meet to share our information, he tells me...

that he can't afford a car.

Phew.

It's all in the perspective

I've related here how my Davey has some issues with his bus travel.

As it turns out, 3 afternoons a week he needs to be home earlier than the bus can get him home anyway, in order to get to his afternoon activities on time.

I finish work at 3.30pm, Em who is on the same campus as me, finishes school at 4pm. Davey finishes at 3.15pm at a school about 15 minutes drive from our campus. For a while I tried picking Davey up, then racing back to pick Em up - a round trip of 30 minutes, but it didn't quite work. We ended up late, frazzled and generally grumpy. I felt like I'd ping-ponged across town, wasting fuel and time. Davey hated being the last kid left at school as I couldn't get to his school until almost 4pm and as he said, the same old men kept asking him if he'd missed his bus, and he kept telling them no, he was waiting for his mum. (These 'old men' are other wise known as concerned school teachers!)

My solution was to get Davey to catch a bus half way home. I'd stop stressing about trying to leave work on time (something I don't have a knack of doing), then read a book, or the paper, or daydream for 15 minutes or so while I waited for Em, we'd head towards home and pick Davey up on the way, arriving home at 4.15pm - earlier than the ping-pong method by about 10 minutes! Davey would have to wait for us at the half way bus stop for about 20 minutes, but as the bus stop is located at a corner store with a bench seat out the front, he said he wouldn't mind waiting there as interesting things happened - unlike school that just has old men asking if you've missed your bus! (Not interesting in a bad kind of way, in case you're worried! People he knows pop into the shop for milk and bread, friends walk their dogs past, other school buses drop students from other schools there. So, people watching for Davey it is. To sweeten the deal for Davey, I give him $1, 3 days a week to spend on lollies at the corner store, so he can munch while he people watches.

As Em started the car the other afternoon, to begin our journey home, she commented
"I don't really mind or anything, but it doesn't seem fair that Davey gets a bribe for being picked up at the corner shop".
Me: "Well, he is making it easier for me by waiting."
Em: "You've never bribed me to wait!"
Me: "You've never had to wait."
Em: "Davey doesn't have to either. He could catch the bus all the way home."
Me: "Yes, but the bus doesn't get him home in time for music or soccer."
Em: "It still seems as though you're babying him."
Me:(laughing) "You know it's actually you that I'm babying!"
Em:(shocked) "How?"
Me: "If I left work when I finish, I could arrive at the bus stop at the same time as Davey, pick him up and then keep going home. We'd be home before 4 o'clock. But then you would have to catch the bus all the way home and wouldn't get home until 5 and would have to walk up that steep hill. Davey is actually waiting at the shop so you get home at 4.15 rather than 5."
Em: (quietly) "Oh" (embarrassed giggle) "I hadn't thought of it like that."
Me: "Yeah, that's because you're the only only one not waiting in this transport equation!"

Spring, and a girl's thoughts turn to softball

It's spring, at least it's spring training season.  And my baseball mad daughter, Rosie (15 yo, ADHD, very empathetic) wants to try out for her high school softball team.

She was on the slow-pitch softball team at her old school, but this is moving up to the major leagues- it's fast-pitch!  The previous team took almost everyone and she learned a lot about the game and improved while she was on it.  But the old school had a very short season and it wasn't too great a burden in terms of driving her to all of the practices or picking her up from the games.  Also, at that time, in our family, we had 2 drivers.  We still have 2 drivers (me and Abe) but Abe is off at school and not available for driving duties.  Rosie's dad is terminally ill and has lost his ability to drive. 

So Mom is the only driver right now.  Therein lies the problem!

If Rosie gets picked for the Junior Varsity team (which I doubt), how I am going to handle all of the driving?  There is a late (school) bus, but picking her up afterschool isn't the biggest problem.  I envision early morning practices.

Getting her out of bed isn't a problem- she'll do it quite well if it's something that she wants to devote time to.  But it means that I need to get myself going earlier and I'm not sure that I can do that.  Not have the energy to do so.

I told her that she could certainly try out for the team.  (I doubt very much that she will actually make it onto the team because I don't think that she is experienced enough.)  But I also told her that depending on when those 6 days per week practices are, I'm not sure that I can get her there all of the time.

Rosie, being the very empathetic kid that she is, said that she was fine with that.  But I feel very guilty about denying my child.

(There will be more on this in the future, I'm sure.)

Why Davey and I love Mondays

Every Monday I drive Davey to a nearby town for a jazz piano lesson with the coolest teacher ever. His teacher doesn't try to be cool, couldn't care if she's cool or not, doesn't dress to be cool, but so IS. Davey and I love her to bits.

He's had a few piano teachers, and we've liked them all, and they've all liked us, but Louise is the first teacher who has shared Davey's love of jazz.  Davey would love nothing more than a full day's lesson with Louise, though his love of lessons doesn't necessarily transfer to long hours of practise. As in he doesn't do long hours of practise - just in case you were wondering!   He practises enough and I'm happy with that because he practises because he enjoys it - he really gets into the 'fiddling around' aspect of Jazz.

I'm thrilled Davey enjoys music, not because I think he's going to make a mozza out of it (is 'mozza' a purely Aussie term? It means lots of money. Lots and lots and lots!), but because I think he's always going to need an outlet for his emotions. Sport takes care of his pent up energy, but music, well music soothes his soul. It expresses the inexpressible and Davey's the sort of kid who has stuff going on inside that needs an outlet to help him process stuff in a way that his electronic game playing doesn't!

So, every Monday afternoon Davey & I have an hour and a half in the car together.  Without Em.  I learn more about my son in that hour and a half than at any other time during the week.  He actually tells me about his day, the things he liked about it, the things he hated.  He tells me about other children at school and his teachers. Sometimes we have very serious conversations, sometimes I laugh until I cry, sometimes there is silence as we meander in our own thoughts. 

At the end of last year Em suddenly twigged that we really enjoyed these Monday afternoon car trips and felt as though she was missing out, and actually said "You two have adventures on Mondays don't you?" in an almost accusing manner.  It was as though the possibility that Davey and I could have fun without her was a totally new thought!

Not long after that, Em concocted an excuse to come with us and accompanied us on our little Monday music adventure.  Davey didn't like it and was quieter than usual during the drive.  Rather than accompanying Seb into Louise's house, I stayed in the car chatting to Em, which was pleasant enough, then we drove home again.  Usually we enjoy car time with the three of us, but somehow this driving time fell a little flat.  Davey felt as though Em was trying to take over his Mum time and Em was struggling to see what Davey & I found so enjoyable - Mum's task of interminable waiting didn't seem to have any appeal to her at all!  I usually use my waiting time to learn Spanish, but having Em with me meant that I put that aside, so I was feeling a little cheated too.

Em didn't ask to accompany us the next week and Davey & I had our usual companionable time together, with Davey commenting that he liked it much better without Em.  As much as my teens like each other these days, it seems they like to have time with Mum when they don't have to share me. 

Louise is surprised we're happy to travel so far to her each week, but I think if Davey gave up music lessons, we just might have to drive to her town for a milkshake every Monday afternoon just for the the mother son bonding time!

Third Time's the Charm

Getting a driver's license is a rite of passage.  For some kids, this is highly important and for others it has less significance.  And then there is a third group- those kids who outwardly seem not to care too much about having a license, but in reality, really, really want it.  But these kids want the license not as a (excuse me) license to go out and around, but they want it because it proves that they can and they are just like everyone else!!!

Abe is that third category.  He's 18 years old, but developmentally delayed.  This shows up in his emotional control, as well as in his schoolwork (writing!!!).  He got his learner's permit two years ago at age 16.25 and took drivers' ed classes immediately after that.  But he never really was that interested in driving too much.  And, of course, various issues with his Dad didn't help. 

Fast forward one year.  Abe's emotional issues cause a HUGE crisis.  The end result is that he is now at a residential boarding school- and he's doing GREAT!!!  But there isn't very much time to practice driving.

Creep forward most of the other year to now.  If you've been following this blog, then you know that he failed the driving road test that first time that he took it (in a borrowed car).  And you know that he failed the driving road test the second time that he took it- through the driving school and their car.  Eeek.  The permit is going to expire!

But the third time is the charm.  Despite grumbling from his Dad about not caring whether Abe gets his license or not and over the fees that the driving school charges to take the road test through them, I let Abe skip an afternoon of school and arranged that he take a refresher class with the driving school in the afternoon- in their car. 

And then the following morning, he took the road test- in their car- and PASSED!!!!!

So back to the three types of kids.  I had talked to him before and after the earlier road tests about how not everyone passes, etc.  I didn't need him falling into an emotional funk about failing.

So right after he passes the test, the next stop is at religious services with his Dad.  I'm coming later.  I hadn't heard anything yet.  Are they here yet?  Did he pass?

I only have to step inside the door, when Abe comes up to me and tells me that he passed- with a huge grin on his face!!  And then he goes to tell another person, and another person, and another person....

Whew!  What a relief!  And I can see that he really, really wanted to get his license.

Flying pigs down under

My daughter Em turned 16 a week ago, the next day she successfully passed her driver's knowledge test and got her driver learner's permit. In the last 6 days we've logged 8.5 hours in her log book of supervised driving hours and she's doing really well. So well, that I didn't feel alarm, well, at least not absolute terror, as she drove on the highway with semi-trailers whizzing past and tears streaming down her face as she related the latest drama with her boyfriend's mother to me.

Her boyfriend is 17 and has just been accepted into uni. He will leave in a few short weeks to live in a city 6 hours drive away. He's a lovely boy but he has the mother from hell and their 10 month relationship has been an emotional whirpool. I'm hoping that living away from his manipulative mother will allow him some emotional respite, and have a flow on effect to us.

Em will commence her final 2 years of high-school this week. She will attend a state school Senior College - one of the few in the State - for her Year 11 and Year 12 schooling. The Senior College only has students in Year 11 and 12 and has slightly different rules to normal state schools. For a start there is no uniform, a very rare thing in Australia, and I know I'm going to miss the certainty of what my daughter will wear each day.  Strange as it may sound, Em's looking forward to having more serious school work.  She likes learning and she says she likes studying.  I'd like to believe her, but so far in her school life she's not really encountered the need to study, so I don't think she really knows what she's talking about.  Study to her so far has meant reading through the relevant section of a text book on the morning of an exam.  Skim reading at that.  So, I'm a little skeptical of the study claim.

Em has been through a bit in the last few years. Her Dad died instantly from a heart attack while playing soccer 3 and half years ago (he had had no warning or underlying medical conditions) and while outwardly she coped amazingly well, it tore her up inside and she slid into depression and I walked a tightrope of treating her normally while worrying about her self-harming or suiciding. I thank God that she had just begun attending a private school for her high school education when her Dad died, as our fees paid for some excellent counselling that is not available in the state school system.

Anyway, I'm hoping for a cruisey year with Em.  I reckon we're about due.

My other child is a 13 year old boy, Davey.  He is about to start Year 8, his second year of high school and provides me with comic relief.  I'm relying on him not to get all hormonal, hairy and huffy for another couple of years yet.

I also believe that if pigs try hard enough they can fly.

I'm Ali, I'm sweltering in the heat of summer Down Under and I look forward to sharing what I hope is going to be a very boring time in my life because pigs can fly.  They can. They can.  They can.  (I have to believe that in order to retain the few shreds of sanity I'm tenaciously holding on to.)

The drive to drive

Several of my fellow MCMM'ers are enduring the teach-your-child-to-drive woes.

I am not.

At least not yet.

My children have been off-the-chart weird about learning to operate a motor vehicle. Neither Drummer Man (27) or the Drama King (25) got their license until well after the age of 18 (driving age here is 16).

Z-man turns 20 in August -- and STILL doesn't drive. Not because he didn't give it a the old college try, because he did.

But because he scared the holy crap out of himself ... and me ... and even his instructor.

To be fair, it's not entirely his fault that his driving skills are lacking. He has had vision issues due to lazy eye, or strabismus, something he has had since birth.

One of my first memories of him -- just after they pulled him from the gaping wound in my abdomen -- was of one blue-gray eye rolling around and the nurses laughing uproariously at the cute little cross-eyed baby.

When he was little, we tried patching, single-vision glasses, bifocals and ultimately multiple surgeries to help correct a variety of issues, lest he have no depth perception as an adult.

Um. Too late.

We didn't understand when he was an abject failure at swinging a bat for T-ball.

We didn't understand why he was resistant to riding a bicycle until he was almost 10, had balance issues when he finally tried and gave it up soon after.

We didn't understand why he was the one who crashed the quad because he didn't "see" the dip in the road on a family road trip several years ago.

Because it wasn't until a new ophthalmologist tricked him with an unfamiliar depth-perception test that we figured out that he had the usual one memorized and had faked us all out for years.

Bottom line for my boy is he has an eye that used to turn in and now turns out, and his brain has turned off the vision there, leaving him with no ability to judge spatially.

To watch him in his day-to-day life, you wouldn't guess. He has adapted. It is really all he ever has known.

But when it came time to get behind the wheel of a car ... uh ... let's just say that after his first lesson, his instructor told me that Z-man wasn't ready to drive with anyone else until he had had at least another session.

And when I finally took the death seat passenger seat with my son at the wheel, I discovered why.

He drifts to the right.

He isn't really able to judge the distance to the stop sign -- OR BETWEEN US AND THE CAR AHEAD OF HIM.

And he scared the ever-lovin' crap out of me.

So his learner's permit expired (after two years), and no mention has been made. He still thinks he will drive some day, and I still pray that he does not.

But it's a tough thing for a young man to be forever wheel-less. Especially when his younger stepsister drives -- and ferried him to school his senior year in high school.

In addition, his baby sister reached the grand old age of 14 1/2 just last week. In exactly one year, she informed me, she will be eligible to have a learner's permit and, six months after that, a driver's license.

Clearly she doesn't plan to follow in her oldest brothers' footsteps and wait till she's over 18.

And then ... Z-man will walk alone.