Is is hypocritical for a parent to want her children to do better than she did? To pass the tests that she failed so miserably in their shoes? What is parenting, if not preparing fledgeling human beings for the great big world before turning them loose in it? And what better way to do that than to turn my own mistakes and failings into life-lessons that my children can learn from instead of repeating?
Perhaps I should back up and explain just what the hell I'm blathering on about. As you may or may not know (or care), I am the mother of three boys at varying ages and stages. My oldest, Joshua, to whom I gave birth when I was little more than a kid myself, is now 14 (soon to be 15). Parenting Josh is an interesting endeavor, being that unlike his two younger brothers who live with me, he's back in my home state with his father, my ex-husband. So, instead of (cue super hero music) Hands-on Mommy, he is limited to sound bites in the form of conversations over the phone.
I would love to be able to say that I trust in his father to emulate the type of man I hope Josh will grow up to be, but ... well, he is my ex husband. If he were that type of man, we would have celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary this past March, and this would be a very different blog, indeed.
Where was I? Ah yes! Josh. So, I've been dreading the ever-important Sex Talk for years, but I knew that if I took my parents' approach to the subject (which was to ignore it and hope that it went away, or that I join a convent of my own free will), then I would end up a grandmother at the ripe old age of 40 - or younger. As it is, I'm sure I had waited too long with Josh, since he's now the same age I was when I sneaked out of a window of my father's home to go down the street and "lose it" at a neighbor's house. But, the opportunity to segue into that conversation never presented itself ... and then there's the fact that I'm Mom, and by extension female, so it would probably be doubly embarrassing for the poor kid.
... so I was biding my time ...
The child in question and I were on the phone the other day, just talking - I don't even remember about what, exactly. Out of nowhere, the subject of a girlfriend popped up, and I thought, "Oh crap, Mom. A girlfriend! When did this happen?"
I didn't let on that the topic had just sucker-punched me. Instead, I made small talk about how everyone knows your business when you live in a small town like he does. I asked what he and said girlfriend did for dates, since he was a Freshman and didn't have a car.
Yes, I was stalling. I did and didn't want to broach the subject of my 14 year old baby having sex, but I did what any concerned mother would do and blundered into the next query, which was "Has your dad had the sex talk with you, son?" Yeah, Mom ... very smooth! (insert eye-roll here)
The 15 seconds of stunned silence after that question said it all.
"What? ... Mom!" was the response I got. (body blow!)
"I'll take that as a 'no'," says I.
"No ... but Mimi did! Mom, I don't want to talk about this with you."
"Too bad. Mimi, huh?" Mimi is my step-mother. "Yeah, I know all about Mimi's sex talk, and I'm afraid 'Use your condom sense. The end.' doesn't really work for me." It really doesn't.
I'll pause this little dialogue here to expound on why that is. The conversation didn't progress much further than that, anyway. We had been talking as I was on the way home from work. A short time later, my mortified son correctly perceived that I had reached my destination, and spied an opportunity to beat a hasty retreat. He mumbled something about me needing to tend to dinner, and he needing to do anything other than talk about whether or not he was still a virgin. I think I heard the words "hammer" and "thumb nail" as he told me he loved me and rang off.
I had done it, though. I opened the subject of my child's sexuality without turning into a mumbling, stuttering mess. Yes, it's embarrassing, and I'd have rather been engaged in a root canal. But, it's so important to me that my sons - all of them - get my perspective on the subject, so they at least have it rattling around in their heads when they're faced with the decisions they'll have to make in the future.
I mean no offense to my step-mother. She's a wonderful woman, and she obviously had the stones to wade into those murky waters with my son way before I did. But, her take on the subject assumes a certain level of defeat on the teen sex front. It assumes that they're going to do it anyway, and all we can hope for is that they take the necessary precautions to stave off STD and procreation.
I want my children to value their sexuality more than I did mine. I don't want them to have to deal with the level of emotional rejection that comes along with a sexually intimate relationship going sideways on them. I want them wholly focused on the things that are so much more important for them, right now. The pursuit of sex is a distraction Josh can't afford in his life, at this point. His body may be telling him that he's physically ready and able to handle it, but I know he's definitely not emotionally ready.
... and I don't want him giving pieces of his heart to every girl who looks his way the same way his mother did in her youth ...
So, what do I do? Ignore it and hope that he'll figure out the right thing on his own? Or, do I do the hard thing? Pull up my big-girl Underoos, and finish the discussion I started - and hopefully give him a different perspective from what he's receiving from the world around him ...
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Saturday, April 16, 2011
So you want to be a blogger ...
I did!
Well ... truth be told, no so much a blogger, per se, but ... yeah. I started the stupid blog. I came out of the starting blocks strong and then ... what? Collapsed after 5 yards? Yikes! 20 years of smoking will do that to a girl, I guess. Hey! As of this post I am 1 year and 2 months smoke-free so, you there, with the pretty pink lungs - put down your torch and pitch fork! It's a metaphor! A literary tool! I've kicked the habit, really!
The point is, I wanted to write - if for no other reason than for my own sanity. And I wanted to share - if for no other reason than for my own (and maybe your) amusement. So, we'll ... what? Call the year and half between the last post and this one a hiatus? Yeah. That's what it was. But, at least it won't be difficult to catch up, right?
So, let's do just that, shall we?
Let's see ... I'm still working on the a fore mentioned short story. It was becoming a novel in my mind, and then was condensed back down to a short story. ... aaand then a novel again, as I got lost in the importance and sheer magnitude (not to mention brilliance, did I say brilliance?) of the story I just HAD to tell.
Are you rolling your eyes at me yet, 'cause I sure am! What is it about the creative mind that makes it tend to take itself waaaaay too seriously? I mean, come on!
The end result has been a lot of me spinning my wheels, doing yet MORE research, solidifying characters in notes, and doing very little solid writing. tsk tsk
The really good news is that for the past year, I've given myself over to the pursuit of my other great love: music. Preparing myself for, and then joining up with the praise and worship team at church has stretched me in so many good ways. Having the honor of sharing the stage with some wonderfully talented musicians has been great! In the past, I'd have been happy to (and did frequently) describe myself as a performer, not a musician. Now I have a burning desire to learn about this medium that I love so much. I'm learning to read music notation, I'm picking up a new instrument - actually 2 once I get the piano moved to the house - and delving into music theory while I'm at it. Good stuff, right?? I really have no grand agenda in this pursuit, other than to just do something worthwhile with my "free" time.Well, there's that along with the need to feel useful on the weeks that I get to help lead worship. It's a bit intimidating being surrounded by such talent, and it's a lot easier to just give myself over to worship if I feel like I'm making a contribution.
Add to that a healthy dose of my full time job (the one for which I get paid in US currency), along with my other full time job and actual vocation (the one for which I get paid in hugs, kisses and general warm fuzzies-as well as dirty dishes and laundry and ...), and I barely have time to think, let alone breathe, or write! But I'm still eking out way too much time for the television, somehow. Go figure.
In a move of Pattonesque strategic brilliance (there's that word again), I've combated the idiot box by moving my office up to the loft, so that I can have peace and quiet - away from prying eyes - to get into whatever shenanigans I see fit. If I want to plunk around awkwardly on my bass, I can. If I want to read, I can do so in silence. If I feel the need to practice my French pronunciation without explaining to everyone in the house WHY I'm learning a different language, I can do that too! By the way, for no reason other than I wanted to see if I could, alright?? ... just in case you're curious too.
OR! If, instead, I want to do none of the above in favor of banging this bit of drivel out of my keyboard in the small hours of the morning, well, you get the picture. Here I am. ... and I'll most likely be back sooner rather than later. It's cheaper than therapy.
Well ... truth be told, no so much a blogger, per se, but ... yeah. I started the stupid blog. I came out of the starting blocks strong and then ... what? Collapsed after 5 yards? Yikes! 20 years of smoking will do that to a girl, I guess. Hey! As of this post I am 1 year and 2 months smoke-free so, you there, with the pretty pink lungs - put down your torch and pitch fork! It's a metaphor! A literary tool! I've kicked the habit, really!
The point is, I wanted to write - if for no other reason than for my own sanity. And I wanted to share - if for no other reason than for my own (and maybe your) amusement. So, we'll ... what? Call the year and half between the last post and this one a hiatus? Yeah. That's what it was. But, at least it won't be difficult to catch up, right?
So, let's do just that, shall we?
Let's see ... I'm still working on the a fore mentioned short story. It was becoming a novel in my mind, and then was condensed back down to a short story. ... aaand then a novel again, as I got lost in the importance and sheer magnitude (not to mention brilliance, did I say brilliance?) of the story I just HAD to tell.
Are you rolling your eyes at me yet, 'cause I sure am! What is it about the creative mind that makes it tend to take itself waaaaay too seriously? I mean, come on!
The end result has been a lot of me spinning my wheels, doing yet MORE research, solidifying characters in notes, and doing very little solid writing. tsk tsk
The really good news is that for the past year, I've given myself over to the pursuit of my other great love: music. Preparing myself for, and then joining up with the praise and worship team at church has stretched me in so many good ways. Having the honor of sharing the stage with some wonderfully talented musicians has been great! In the past, I'd have been happy to (and did frequently) describe myself as a performer, not a musician. Now I have a burning desire to learn about this medium that I love so much. I'm learning to read music notation, I'm picking up a new instrument - actually 2 once I get the piano moved to the house - and delving into music theory while I'm at it. Good stuff, right?? I really have no grand agenda in this pursuit, other than to just do something worthwhile with my "free" time.Well, there's that along with the need to feel useful on the weeks that I get to help lead worship. It's a bit intimidating being surrounded by such talent, and it's a lot easier to just give myself over to worship if I feel like I'm making a contribution.
Add to that a healthy dose of my full time job (the one for which I get paid in US currency), along with my other full time job and actual vocation (the one for which I get paid in hugs, kisses and general warm fuzzies-as well as dirty dishes and laundry and ...), and I barely have time to think, let alone breathe, or write! But I'm still eking out way too much time for the television, somehow. Go figure.
In a move of Pattonesque strategic brilliance (there's that word again), I've combated the idiot box by moving my office up to the loft, so that I can have peace and quiet - away from prying eyes - to get into whatever shenanigans I see fit. If I want to plunk around awkwardly on my bass, I can. If I want to read, I can do so in silence. If I feel the need to practice my French pronunciation without explaining to everyone in the house WHY I'm learning a different language, I can do that too! By the way, for no reason other than I wanted to see if I could, alright?? ... just in case you're curious too.
OR! If, instead, I want to do none of the above in favor of banging this bit of drivel out of my keyboard in the small hours of the morning, well, you get the picture. Here I am. ... and I'll most likely be back sooner rather than later. It's cheaper than therapy.
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