Reports of my demise have been greatly exaggerated…
I was under the impression the blog was up for renewal and I didn’t really care to renew it since I hadn’t been writing here much. But Jo renewed it and I need to get Jo a really nice thank you gift. Not that I think I’ll be back full time, because I can’t really say. I know it’s silly to be like: Okay I’m going! Okay I’m back!
And I don’t mean to be like that, trust me. I will say having my sister find my blog again… after that I haven’t really felt like home at this place anymore. I feel I have to watch every word I say and some could say I shouldn’t care, and I want to not care… yet I do.
No amount of telling me I shouldn’t feel that way will help. Only years of years of intense therapy and/or psychosomatic drugs will help with that, I’m afraid.
What I thought I would do is let this place die out, archive all of the years of writing, take a break, and come back in a place I could police a bit more.
I know it sucks to police your own blog but hey, blogging isn’t what it used to be. I’m not comfortable not knowing who visits and is reading anymore.
Things that R used to say to me years ago, when I’d poo-poo him or not listen - are coming back to haunt me now.
And don’t be mad with R over that. R is and has always been a huge support to all of my craziness, including this blog.
He’s a way more private person and it doesn’t sit well with him to share personal information with just anyone.
So what I’m about to share is not in keeping with that and certainly contradicts the feeling I should be more private with my life, and all the happenings it entails. But I have to talk about it, R’s not here and I don’t feel like talking to anyone… so I’ll blog about it.
Do you know the propensity of bloggers who don’t like talking on the phone? Please don’t think I’m singling anyone out, it’s a common theme I hear over and over again. And I’m one of them.
I have to be in the mood to talk on the phone. With anyone. With family, friends… the only exception to that rule is R. I’ll talk to him anywhere, anytime, anyplace.
That’s probably due to the fact that when the calls come in, who knows when he’ll get the chance to call again so I better damn well take the call.
Where was I? Oh.
At the teen’s school. This afternoon. Meeting with his teachers and the guidance counselor. Without over sharing - the kid is not doing so hot.
Not because he skips class, or doesn’t turn in his assignments… He does his assignments, he just doesn’t always turn them in.
The teachers and counselor believe it to be the teen has a perfection complex. He doesn’t think his work is good enough, so he’d rather not turn it in at all.
On some level, I can sit here and blame the dad. For his need for perfection and his never ending pressure on the kid to be perfect at everything he does.
But on the flip side of that, and to attempt to be a responsible parent, I have to understand my role in that as well.
When the kids are born, you want to right all the wrongs in your own life. You want to teach them all of the good things you learned, and to steer them away from the things you don’t like about yourself.
As much as the dad may influence and downright scare M, the fact that M has become so complacent, so uncaring… that’s all me, baby.
The minute I don’t care about something, I’m done. I have always appealed to R during a fight or whatever, to never get me to that point. I can’t come back even if I wanted to.
Granted, these are accelerated classes the teen is taking. Classes I don’t think the kid is equipped or prepared to handle. His first year of high school, football practice every night, it’s too much.
But then, to fight that? Am I wanting less for my child? To give up, go back to regular classes that he’s more comfortable in, to enjoy playing football and the high school experience in general? Am I wanting my kid to “aim low”?
I don’t know.
I told the counselor that I feared if M became ineligible to play, he’d drastically go downhill. The counselor replied M couldn’t really do worse than he already was doing.
But he didn’t hear me. I meant downhill, personally… mentally. Not just caring about homework, not caring about LIFE.
You all that know me, have read this blog, know how I feel about sports. I do not feel that they should be the main focus of M’s academic career.
But to take that away, frankly, scares me. The only time I have ever seen M display any type of confidence, is playing sports.
M’s English teacher said she called on him just yesterday and his fear and nervousness was so palpable that she backed out of the question and smoothed it over to make it easier for him.
That broke my heart to hear that.
As much as the dad has his faults, he has no fear. Sure, no fear of being an asshole, or appearing stupid, or running his mouth to the point I’m inwardly begging: Please. Just stop talking!
I hate that M got this FEAR FACTOR from me. I hate that he feels he’s not good enough. I want to do something, anything to right whatever wrongs I may have done raising him so he wouldn’t feel that. Where to begin? I have no idea.
Well, I have some ideas, courtesy of the guidance counselor. Writing down homework assignments, having his dad and I initial the assignment booklet. Taking a much more active role and attempting to build up his confidence. I hope it works. For him, for me. I can’t lie. I want so much better for him than this. He CAN do better than this.
And just so you know, I can’t end without some snark towards the (fully dressed, for once) step-mom…
She? Never stops talking, either. That’s one thing she and the dad both share: love of themselves.
When the counselor told us, clearly stating M’s mother and father, to initial the assignment book, this bee had the audacity to ask: So, where do we initial?
YOU don’t initial anywhere. I will give her the respect of wanting what’s best for M, I will give her that it has to be extremely difficult to raise a child that is not her own, I will give her the respect I would want the dad to give R - but know your role, sweetheart. Embrace it. Love it. Stepmom - mom, see the difference?
And now, it’s time to know MY role… and to do it much better than I have been. Game on. :) Wish us luck. We need it.