Listen

If only you would have listened when I tried to explain. If only you had for one single moment had the humility to process a viewpoint other than your own.... I tried my best to get through to you, in the beginning, when I had thought you were still salvageable, you scoffed at me and called me stupid and n.  We went to the same college, had the same amount of education, and yet you saw fit to belittle me and make me feel foolish. I was your Jester...your amusement when you felt a need for buoyancy. I wasn't trying to dictate to you how you should live but I had to protect my children. Why in the world could you not see the damage you were doing through your cruel actions, your callous, thoughtless words and your inability to act on the promises you made to change; all as empty and vacant as your heart.

If only you could see that all your fanatical religious beliefs are a crutch, something for you to lean on to support you when you can't accept the truth. When you have nowhere else to go you turn to your "faith" which is nothing more than your distortion of words, twisted and molded to put those around you into chains, into categories of "Sinners" and "Saints."  You will never understand that we are all a little of both and if one be damned then so are we all...

If you only had been able to see that children are not possessions - not chattel - you would still have the gift of being able to laugh with your daughter because she is in many ways wiser than you, and her words are a mixture of childish idealism and the cold harsh reality of adulthood come too soon...and you would laugh because you cant believe how grown up she is and yet how much further she has to go and how much is out there for her to experience...and you would feel a sense of relief that she is still young and a sense of dread that she is.  Or you would be able to watch a sunset with your son in absolute silence, no words needed, because you both felt the peace of knowing that just that one day you had done the very best you could to make the world a better place and tomorrow would come and you'd have another chance to do it all again to be significant.  To matter. You'd be able to appreciate your youngest child's gift of inner peace and extreme intelligence and her magnetism that seems to lighten the hearts of everyone she touches. You wouldn't try to bind her to you through force and manipulation because she is light-hearted and free and she needs to be allowed to soar and experiment with finding herself, through music, through friendship, through making mistakes.

If only you would not stick so doggedly to what you think is right, you might be able to learn something that could possibly change your life forever - take you to a better place where fear of failure, hell and damnation evaporate into thin air and you are free...totally free to live your life in joy and with love.I failed miserably at enlightening you on these things. But I have these gifts and so many more for which I am eternally grateful. My life is full...

Splitting in Two - My Role as a Wife/Mother in a Blended Family

When my son came home from college for Thanksgiving last week, I swore that this time would be different; there would be NO FIGHTING between he and my husband. I was putting my foot down, and I let them both  know it. No screaming, getting in each others faces over who forgot to flush the toilet or who was drinking straight out of the milk carton; no hooking me in to their arguments, no forcing me to take sides between the man I love and my firstborn - my son. It had been a rough few months around here, and in anticipation of what had the possibility of turning into a volcanic eruption of anger and cruelty with me playing referee, I decided to take a proactive approach this time.This all meant for me that I had to start psyching myself up for Corey's homecoming.  I just didn't feel up to the usual role of mediator. It was getting old already! Seven years, and the two of them still couldn't coexist in the same space without pissing each other off. It isn't that they don't love each other, but as in most stepfamilies, sometimes oil and water just don't mix, and planning activities for us to do to avoid any possible triggers for either of them, seemed to be a logical solution.

So thankfully, Wednesday and Thursday, Thanksgiving, passed without a hitch, although Corey was at his father's house all day Thursday, and only got home in the evening And I was almost going to give an inward sigh of relief, but then I caught myself and decided against it; still a few more days to go...no sense jinxing myself yet!

 

Friday morning, I was up early because I had to visit a customer at  So I figured, what could be the harm of running to the mall early for Black Friday since everyone was still sleeping at home. NOTE: I am NOT a Black Friday fanatic; in fact I hate the mall and have panic attacks there when it gets crowded, so I usually avoid it at all costs on the weekend. but the mall is literally five minutes from my house, and I was low on funds this year and could use a good bargain.

Miraculously I found a parking spot a stone's throw from the entrance to the mall, and what are the chances of that??? And on Black Friday??  Wow. That must be a good sign.

NOT.

Literally a half hour after I arrived, my phone rang. I saw that it was Corey, but the noise level in the mall Friday was almost intolerable, so I let my cell go to voicemail, and figured I'd had my fill of the place anyway, and would give him a call when I got to my car.

Shattering the Glass Bubble

When I was growing up, I used to take a lot of problems upon myself rather than burdening my mother or father with them. I kept a lot inside, and consequently, had some issues around this as I got older. As a mother myself now, I have no choice but to take on the problems of my children as they become teenagers and older and try to make their way in the world. If they hurt, I hurt more. If they have a problem, I will be the one to have the sleepless nights, and I will try to help them fix it, with gentle guidance and ultimately, if that doesn't work, putting my foot down and solving it for them in the best way I can see fit. It isn't a matter of becoming too enmeshed in the problems of other people; these are my children, my life, my blood and an extension of myself; so much so that the pain I feel when I see them struggle is visceral, all-consuming. I cannot bear to see them hurt, and while I recognize that life can be painful, to see anyone, particularly my kds, suffer pain at the hands of another is just unbearable for me to watch.

My son is going through some terrible times right now. He came home from college in December. He started working an internship in Manhattan, commuting from Rockland County, and all was well. However, about a week and a half ago, he slid on the ice, and crashed into a telephone pole, totalling his car and receiving a concussion. If it wasn't bad enough to be home with no transportation and a huge bump on his head, we found out that his father, who is my ex-husband, had removed him from his auto insurance without informing anyone.

I was furious. If my son had hit another driver, or injured someone other than himself, he would have had no coverage, and would be in a whole lot of trouble. I simply don't understand why someone would do such a thing,  and worry more about saving a few bucks than about the safety and well being of their own child that they profess to "love"; but then again this has been the pattern all along,  And I realized long ago, that I cannot not control his father's behavior towards him, and I can only react appropriately.

This situation brought up other issues with my son's father, both from the past and present, and finally led to him confronting his father about his behavior and the multitude of inappropriate and disrespectful things he has done. It took 6 years, but my son finally found the courage to stick up for himself in the presence of a personality that is controlling and at the same time weak emotionally.

My son, over the past 6 years, has done nothing but give his father the benefit of the doubt. He has chosen to believe, as is his nature, that people will do the right thing. I, being the more jaded individual that I am, have no such illusions. Yet, he is so young, and so idealistic, which in a way is a very good quality to have; to always believe the best about humanity and other people. to think that things should be a certain way, and that people should act in a way that is kind and compassionate towards others. I have felt in the past that for me to "burst that bubble" with my somewhat wary outlook and comparative suspicion of others would be cruel. But life takes funny turns sometimes; and now he has had that bubble not only burst but shattered as if it were made of glass and he now has the scars and bruises to show for it.

I have grown to understand the power of maternal love and just how deep those bonds are. It is as though when your child is born, they become separate from you and gradually over time, develop independence and move a little bit further away, and a little bit further from you. You start to think that they are growing up, and that you will not have to, or even be able to, hold their hand forever. And it's sad. But you try your best to give them the tools they need to survive independent of you.

But what happens when they get stuck? - and they will get stuck. What happens when they are incapable or unable to solve the problems laid at their feet? You are sucked back into that style of fierce caregiving that is comparable to a mother lion protecting her cub, and your teenager becomes an infant again in your eyes. Because  the fact remains that they always will be; there is an invisible chord that connects us to not only the physical bodies, but our emotional states, as well.

This is why, once you bring a child into this world, you are forever committed to protecting them and providing for them, even, and often, at your expense.

Happy Ending???

The moral of the story, if there is one, is that there can be a happy ending, even in the worst of situations.

My daughter has transferred to a different school district. With apprehensions for everyone involved, she made the leap of faith and angels landed her gracefully on her feet.

After the initial pink cloud feeling of "being the new kid that everyone wanted to befriend" dissipated, after making a new start, free of prejudicial judgements and baggage, she has established herself firmly in her new school, complete with exceptional grades, confidence and some really good friends.

My faith in humanity has been somewhat restored for now, after seeing the way the school district, administration, teachers and in particular the students embraced her and made her feel welcome and special. While I am not naiive enough to believe that every school doesn't have its problems and problem children, I am encouraged by the way her transition was eased by everyone she came in contact with. I had anticipated a long and difficult process of assimilation and we had all prepared for that; however it just was so much more simple than that.

I really can't say why, except that different schools have different makeups and different personalities that seem to reflect pretty accurately the kids that go there. Her new school is much more diverse than where she had been, (socially, economically, racially and otherwise) and differences are recognized AND appreciated. This was in stark contrast to where she was before, where everyone was pretty much the same. Further these kids are actively engaged in learning, and my daughter has really flourished and become quite the student!

She actually loves school now, which is a miracle that I never thought I would see. She wants to go to school! She wants to become involved in the various extracurriculars, wants to just participate in life in general.

What a difference from the child who cried and shuddered at even the thought of getting on the bus, of entering the school building, spending hours in the guidance office rather than face her tormentors.

It is wonderful as a parent to know that you have made the right decision, particularly one as difficult as this one was to make. I am so thrilled and so happy and proud of her, her bravery, her willingness to take a chance, and to bounce back from something so horrible as what she had to endure. This is a life lesson for me, reminding me to trust my gut. If it feels right, do it.

On Middle-school "Friendships" +The Adult Version

I'd like to say that life is fair, and that good always triumphs over evil, that everyone gets what they deserve, that the innocent are always so until proven otherwise...all of these things that we learned growing up, just don't really seem to cut it when your child is the victim of bullying.
Sayings like this lose their fire, their passion, and seem to fizzle.

I have spent many sleepless nights trying to get the root of bullying behavior, particularly when it is directed at someone who used to be a friend.It is one thing to say that middle school age children are self-directed, little narcissists that believe vehemently in every man for himself, and survival of the fittest. It is another to apply this to relationships that have been forged from preschool years, mothers' friendships, and all the shared experiences and memories that go along with these things.

What is it that enables someone to sever ties with someone who has done nothing to hurt them, nothing to embarrass them, nothing but try to hang on and hang in, and struggle to maintain the bonds of friendship long after those ties have been viciously cut by the kids doing the bullying?

What is it that causes these same children to start vicious rumors, by their very nature fallacious and cruel, designed to further alienate a girl who used to be their friend, who included them and brought new girls into an already long established group of girls who vowed to be BFFs?


It has been torture for my daughter to go to school, to see these girls who she for so long still wanted to remain friends with in spite of what they did to her. They were her security blanket, her group, her friends. And what is the value of friendship then?

Is it nothing more than who has the coolest i-phone, or the most shoes? Is it who wears makeup, who has sex, who doesn't, whose parents let them stay out latest or have parties unsupervised in the 8th grade? Is it who flirts the best or who isn't too pretty so as not to detract attention from boys from the Queen Bee? Is this what friendship means these days? Because I really am clueless to help my daughter answer these questions anymore.

I am 46 years old, and I always thought that friendship meant first and foremost someone who was there for you when you needed them and who you would do the same for. I thought it was a shoulder to cry on, a helping hand you lend, a common bond that comes over time from shared experiences, joys and tears and growing up. I thought friends will tell you what they truly think, even if it's not what you want to hear, but always done with love and caring and feeling. Because all these things we see on Facebook today, "I love you so-and-so, you are my sista!" , these things I take to heart. I love my friends and I would do anything for them. I have their back, NO MATTER WHAT.

But what about middle-school? What about the changing friendships one day to the next, the ins and outs and the friending and unfriending, the jumping around from one person to the next? Maybe it's about finding your place. Maybe it's about not knowing where you fit in, not child, not adult...feeling out the societal roles , using school as a test run for real life. I don't know.

But the cruelty? Where does that come in? What are parents teaching their kids? I'd love to be a fly on the wall, because I certainly don't think I'd like what I hear; I KNOW I don't like what I see. Values. Where are they?