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Sometimes My Son Reappears December 13, 2013

We’ve had growing pains, Kameron and I. I don’t like that he’s not my sweet little boy that he once was, and he doesn’t like that his mom is extremely hard on him. Thankfully, every once in awhile that sweet boy comes back, if even for a moment. Tonight he did, and I thought I would share.

Assignment: Write a letter to a Kindergartner from Santa about Christmas.

“Dear Kindergartner,

I am delighted that you wrote me this letter of your Christmas list this year. My elves are working on making and buying all the other children’s presents for this year, including yours. Mrs. Clause is in her kitchen baking cookies and our feast for Christmas Eve, which is full of mashed potatoes, green beans, pudding, and roast beef. Our weather in the North Pole is freezing compared to Indiana. The polar bears are cold even in their fur coats, the penguins are hiding in their igloos, and even the reindeer are feeling like icicles. Dasher is running all around the house. Dancer is dancing his hooves off. Prancer is not prancing but pacing. Prixen is eating all of the Twix chocolate bars. Comet is trying to fly across the sky. Cupid is showing love to me and everyone else in the North Pole. Donder is bonding himself with joy. Blitzen is sprinting at the speed of light. Rudolph is shining his nose to show positive energy. Meanwhile, I am checking my list to see who was naughty and nice.

I am getting ready with my sleigh, my sack of presents and coal, and I will be at your house very soon.

Thank you for writing this letter of your list to me and have a Merry Christmas.

Sincerely,

Santa”

That’s my boy….

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This Boy – Part One December 6, 2013

I remember thinking what idiots my parents were when they said “this is going to hurt me a lot more than it hurts you.” That phrase was usually followed by a whollap across my ass or in later years being grounded “indefinitely.” (Grounded indefinitely was a phrase that I’m pretty sure that my mother invented. It means that you’re grounded for an undetermined amount of time, lifted or enforced at will, feel free to use it when applicable.)

Kameron has not inherited my long-term memory, or short-term memory for that matter, which to me is extremely frustrating. People can make excuses for him all day long, he’s a man, he’s fourteen, it’s puberty, it’s classwork, yada yada yada… You can preach that stuff to me all day long until you’re blue in the face for all I care. The bottom line is you don’t have to deal with the consequences of his lack memory motivation.

Let me enlighten you. It’s Tuesday, BEFORE Thanksgiving. I’ve heard nothing from his father about plans, not a peep from Kam, so I decided to press on with our own plans. Those plans included Thanksgiving Day putting up the Christmas tree and watching football. Friday Samantha was going to be home and I planned on cooking our family dinner. Saturday my mom was coming over for dinner. Sunday was nothing, to relax and get ready for the week ahead. I went in to tell Kameron good night Tuesday night, he had this weird look on his face, I could tell something was on his mind. I asked “what’s up?” He looked at me and said “just wondering what I’m going to do on Friday with my Dad.” Excuse me? The two of them had made plans on Friday and just “forgot” to tell me about it. So I rearranged our entire schedule.

Tuesday of this week (I guess Tuesday is a bad day.) Kam has choir practice, it ends at 4. I left work, ran some errands, and was at school to pick him up around ten till. I was on the phone with my cousin, so I wasn’t bored, but when the clock showed ten after I started to get irritated. My cousin said “I bet he has practice until 4:30 and forgot to tell you”, I said “no way.” Sure enough, 4:30 rolls around and out he strolls with this somber look on his face. “I forgot” he says. I’ve waited for 40 minutes and “I forgot” is all he has?

Today, I emailed his choir teacher to make sure they didn’t have practice until 4:30 again today, she replied no, so I was at school in line to pick him up at the regular time. I knew they had a performance today at school, but had no idea that there was another performance at 7 tonight and he had to be back at school by 6:30. “I forgot” again. This time I was pissed. I grounded him. Which means no phone, computer, games, etc.

Now he’s grounded “under the house” as I like to put it.

You’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out why.

 

“You Don’t Know What It’s Like To Be A Teenager” August 20, 2012

That’s the new catch phrase in my house. It usually is said with some type of eye roll, sigh, foot stomping, or a combination of all three – which is my favorite.

The problem of course is me and Mr. D. Apparently we’re unreasonable in the eyes of this 13 year old.

Let me give you an example of the madness. Last Wednesday as Mr. D. was dropping off Kameron at school Kameron decided to TELL Mr. D. that he was going to the library with a friend after school. Mr. D. is much more patient than I am, he calmly asked if Kameron had asked me about going to the library. The sigh came and then he said “no.” I don’t know why Kameron thinks he can manipulate this situation. Perhaps he’s testing Mr. D. to see how far he can push to get a yes out of him. Kameron isn’t stupid, he has learned that timing is everything. He figures that if he asks when he’s getting out of the car that Mr. D. will be distracted and won’t think of asking “have you talked to your mom about this?” Don’t let the sexy grey hair fool you, Mr. D. is pretty quick on his feet at 7:30 in the morning. Kameron quickly got out of the van. I’m pretty sure Mr. D. didn’t get “have a good day at school” out before Kameron slammed the door and stomped into school.

A few minutes later I got a phone call from school saying Kameron would like to talk to me. A last ditch effort before class starts. “Mom, can I go to the library after school?” Ugh. “I don’t recall you asking permission to go to the library last night, did you?” “No” he said, sounding disappointed. “Well Kameron when you want to do things you have to ask for permission before you just assume you can do them right?” “Yes” he said sounding very irritated by my speech that I’ve given him a hundred thousand times. “So no Kameron you can’t go to the library today, I’ll see you at three o’clock.” “Ok” sounding so defeated, and hung up the phone. So it goes, I’ve ruined his life yet again. I suspect he’ll live.

So I go back to the statement “You Don’t Know What It’s Like To Be A Teenager” yum, yeah I do. However my teenage years look very different than yours Kambo. I’ll admit it, Kameron leads a very charmed life. It’s my fault, well, mine and my parents fault. I overcompensated a lot after I divorced his father. Where I lacked, my parents filled in the gaps.

Just in the last year my poor, can’t go to the library kid, has done the following: Gone to Florida, Holiday World (twice), CYO camp (twice), Roncalli Theater Camp (twice), and WWE Wrestling matches (twice – maybe three times.) Countless number of games to play, having friends over, plays, theater, extreme Christmases. He’s been to California three times (I’ve been once.) He’s going to Washington D.C. in a month through a trip that his school has coordinated. I could go on and on, but frankly, it’s embarrassing.

So when I hear his tale of woe, I roll my eyes and heave a sigh. Teenager? Let me tell you kid, you don’t get it. As I’m writing this I have a feeling that he’s going to “get it” very soon.

My teenage years were full of responsibility. A lot of responsibility. When I was Kameron’s age my days while I was in school were filled with school, homework, and taking care of my sisters. When I was thirteen my sister Marcia was ten, my sister Ashley was a newborn.  My mom would pick me and Marcia up from school with Ashley in the backseat. We would go home and start on homework. Ashley was about seven months old, so she was mobile. While we were studying we had to keep a watchful eye on our infant sister. The weekends were filled with chores (that you didn’t get paid for), and “babysitting” (babysitting you didn’t get paid for.) If the chores didn’t get done, we were grounded. That’s it, that was the way it was.

My sympathy meter for Kameron’s “teenage life” is low, very low right now. I am going to start some new rules, with some new responsibilities. It’s time, and way overdue.

I’ll let you know how it goes.