Happy Birthday My Son

My son, his girlfriend 2011 Anna Maria Island

My sons are on an extended trip Down Under.  They plan to be away at least one, possibly two years.  This is the birthday email I sent to my youngest who turned 25 last wk.

Son, 

Every birthday, every year, takes me back to the first few years of your life.  I loved my pregnancies and took great joy knowing I was going to have children.  Believe me, once upon a time,  I could have been voted "Least likely to have children".  But you and your older brother are the blessings Dad and I were given.  

The day of your birth I was frightened, as was your father, not because there was anything wrong with you; you were quite perfect.  We just thought ourselves so lucky after the birth of your brother, I think we wondered if lightening could possibly strike twice.

It did.  His name is Fletcher.  He is you.

Twenty five is a benchmark of sorts, but it may not be the turning point of your life.  You'll probably not remember, in later years, why you expected it should be so.  I know I cannot remember my 25th birthday at all.  

You need not have your life mapped.  Twenty five is a compass.  It's pointing you in directions.  You have to choose the road on which to travel and go go go.  I think you and your brother are doing this now on your extraordinary trip to Australia and beyond.  A year or two away from home is a life changing experience.  If it seems haphazard at times, remember, life can be complicated and messy and difficult.  It can also be sweet and simple and it is God's greatest gift.

Use your talent, your brains, your personality and make things happen.  Trust iin yourself, even when you make mistakes.  A mistake is simply taking a path that didn't work out.  Take another!!!  You don't stop hiking when you come to a dead end.

I'm proud of you and the man you've become.  You're generous, kind, loving, smart, artistic and you think out of the box; not an easy thing to do.  For once in my life, I'll credit your father with that trait.

I wish you love and happiness.

Mom

Happy Birthday To Me

This morning, twenty four years ago, was the first happiest day of my life. 

Between 8 and 8:30am, my first child, Bryan, was born.  He was a 7lb 8oz baby boy with a full head of hair, dark brown eyes and a high bilirubin count.  He was jaundiced.   I saw him briefly after delivery but he was whisked away to the nursery and placed in a special bed under blue lights designed to reduce the level of bilirubin.  I did not see him again for eight hours.

 

 I was heavily sedated having undergone a Caesarian.  My husband assisted in delivery and my best friend, a nurse practitioner,  was there for moral support.  It was an agonizing day as I waited anxiously to hold my baby for the first time.  By the time 4pm rolled around, I was becoming hysterical, worrying about what might be wrong, despite assurances from the nurses this was "routine".  

When they finally put that little boy in my arms, I knew love I'd never felt before.  Nothing takes the place of carrying a child for nine months, delivering him or her, holding them the first time.  It was magic.  It was instantaneous.  I was bonded.  

Some new mothers have to get to know their baby.  Some are afraid because they haven't any experience.  Some take to it like a duck to water.  No matter.  If you love them, it's all good.

 

Family Photos Easter 2005 
the year Bryan left for college

 

Bryan, his father & brother January 2011

 

My son is now twenty four years old, a college graduate, living in the West, beginning a new chapter in his life; trying to find a real job, pay off school loans and make his way.  He's smart, he's funny, he's unbelievably cheerful and a very fine athlete.  I didn't know what to expect the day he was born but I could not ask for more. 

 

Children's birthdays are a time for celebration...by their mothers and fathers.  So, happy birthday to me!

Good bye for Now

Son #1 jumping the wake & doing a "grab"

Our eldest son left last night to go out West to the college town where he lives.  My husband and I drove him to the airport.  We had packed early yesterday morning, the end of our vacation on the lake.  The end of vacation and our son's leaving made it a doubly difficult day.  To spend a carefree time with the people you most love in the world, well, there's nothing to replace it. 

As a family, we discussed all that and how lucky we are to have our health, to have a ski boat, to be able to rent a lake cottage, to bring our family together.  We had wonderful weather, only one day of rain, and we took that day to go to the movies together and see "Inception" on the big screen.  I don't recommend it.  "Matrix" is better.  But I digress.

While there is much bickering amongst the four of us, there is much camaraderie as well.  I had a talk with son #1 and he reminded me he's been out of the house five years now.  He was 18 when he left for college and he hasn't moved back.  I'm proud of him.  I'm also proud he tries very hard not to rely on us for money when he's low. He's making his way as a man now and he reminded me to treat him as such.  Hard task when Mamma has her boys together and falls back into the old patterns.  I can't deny it. 

  Son #2  doing a 360  on a wakeboard

#2 son leaves in a month for a beach city in Florida.  We'll miss him very much.  However a peaceful time is coming for us, sans children.  We are ready for the separation.  He is too and I think he'll be most happy by the sea. 

Bye Bye Love or Hello Happiness?

Are empty nesters happier once their children fly the coop?  According to Britain's Daily Mail, you too "might just start feeling richer, fitter and sexier". 

Our family 2005 the year our first born left home for his freshman year in college

Okay, I'll buy that.  In fact, there's no doubt in my mind.  While I love my sons dearly, when they were both out of the house, my husband and I were happy, extremely happy.  It was kinda that feeling we would get when we'd drop them at summer camp each year.  We'd say "buh bye" and they'd be standing there waving and we'd be waving and, as soon as they were out of sight, we'd start with the high fives and the "What'll we do for the next few weeks while they're gone?" fantasies. 

One of the first things we like to do is...run around naked.  Now, don't say "ewwwww".  I bet many couples like to run around naked.  Not so much because it's sexy but because, with the kids out, you CAN.  Another is to not worry about dinner til you're hungry, if at all.  No nutritional issues now that the kids are grown.  I mean, if you just want to eat salads every night & drink wine, you don't have to make a second more nutritious meal for the children. 

We can sleep.  No lying awake nights waiting for them to come home from whatever they have been up to.  No worries.  No matter where they are, they are not in your face with it any longer.  Plus, I never could sleep worth a damn until I knew they were safe and sound in their beds. 

The pets eat on time again.  It was always a struggle to get the poor dogs & cat fed by 6:30pm.  You'd think I was asking them to dig a ditch.  And the squabbles over whose "turn is it?" 

We have clean drinking glasses in the cupboards again.  It seems like every time we wanted a glass, they were all dirty and in their room.  I'd go up there and find aat least 4-6 empty, dirty glasses in the room.  Why couldn't they carry them downstairs and put them in the dishwash so we'd have some clean ones?  Huh?

There's hot water left over, the electrical fees have gone down, we have the use of our washing machine back and the dryer is empty and may be used.  Kids leave every light & computer on in the place.  They take showers lasting a minimum ten minutes, usually twenty.  The washer & dryer are always in use...by them. 

Oh yes, we miss them but in a good way.  We miss their exuberance and their presence in our lives and their smiles and laughter & joy.  We don't miss the coming & going, the phone calls past 11pm, the constant activity and boistrous bellowing.  We don't miss dragging them out of bed at 11am in the morning.  

My husband and I get along better than we have in years.  How many years?  Oh, I'd say about 22...since the second "little Angel" was born. 

Letter to My Son On His Birthday

Birthday Boy:

Sorry for the email but, between the time change and everyone's crazy schedules, we hope to catch up with you some time today or early this evening to again wish you a happy birthday.

Twenty three years ago you made me the happiest person on the face of the earth.  You were the most beautiful baby ever, so little and brown.  You smiled from the get-go.  Such a happy, joyous child.  You have given us moments of stress, fear and great love.  Glad the first two are pretty much done tho'.  Growing pains are, possibly, hardest on the parents. 

I hope today is special.  I hope you do get to skydive.  I so wanted to when I was your age.  Well, a few years younger, actually.  By the time I was your age, I was planning my wedding to your father.  Can you imagine?

Wish we were all together.  But we soon will be. 

Re:  those "presents" you bought for Dad & your brother, you'd better check w/ the post office as to the legality of mailing.  They may be construed as weapons.  You might be better off using UPS or Fed Ex but I would be upfront w/ all.  You don't need some postal regs to bite you in your tiny little butt.

I love you  I love you  I love you.      Mamma              

                                                       

Happy Mother's Day

Japonica

Today is Mother's Day. I will get up, make breakfast for my MIL and husband. At 2pm, we shall go to a lovely old 19th century hotel for a sumptuous brunch.  My older son is preparing to travel to Costa Rica. He's just finished another year in college. My younger son is away this weekend so I will not see him. It's just my husband, MIL and I.

I miss my mother. She died in 1997. She would be 95 now and I don't think that would please her. She never wanted to live that long. But I miss her terribly; her wisdom, her patience, her kindness, her acceptance. I am not as good or patient or kind as she was but she did teach me acceptance and love and, for my children, I have that in abundance.

Theme Thursday Breakfast

photo from TakeOutFox.com

Of all things I remember about my dad, it's his love of breakfast.  Breakfast was my father's favorite meal.  He made it every single day until he died at the ripe old age of 98.  Bacon and eggs, oatmeal with raisins and toast, sausages, egg & toast, biscuits with sorghum molasses and, best of all, pancakes.  Pancakes were our weekend treat.  We always had them either Saturday or Sunday morning.  He made them himself, often adding whatever fruit was on hand:  banana, apple, blueberry.  When I was little he made buckwheat pancakes a few times, claiming they were good for us.  We figured out real quick I was allergic to buckwheat.  I kept breaking out in hives.

Dad and Mother  loved sweet, ripe strawberries and peaches.  They cooked & produced fresh strawberry jam each Spring and fresh peach jam in early Summer.  We enjoyed fresh fruity jam all year long.  It was a loving contribution to the family feed.  I can still taste them.  Mother could never decide which on she liked best.  I think it was whichever was in season at the time.  

I have two favorite breakfasts when eating in a restaurant.  I love Eggs Benedict with a perfectly poached egg,  Canadian bacon on a crisp English muffin & a light, lemony Hollandaise.  I also love Chicken Fried Steak, particularly in the South where they always make it goooood.  Both are excruciatingly fattening. 

photo from thebrandingirongrill.com

After having children, I made a point of making breakfast each day. First of all, they needed a healthy, hearty diet.  Second, I wanted to carry on that tradition, to have them remember those lovely, made-from-scratch breakfasts of eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes, hot cereal, toast, jam, fresh butter.  I am all about butter too.  

But that's another story...

Back in the Fold

Son #2 surprised us last night by coming home two days early from Europe.  I was restless and unable to sleep, having stayed up til Midnight watching the World Series.  I heard a car in the driveway at 1AM and wondered who the heck was driving up my dark road into my back yard in the middle of the night for cryin' out loud?

I went to the window, looked down on the back yard, saw shapes in the moonlight (full moon last night), one with a backpack.  It still didn't register.  I went downstairs, to the back door and opened it and there he stood, big as life, skinny as all get out, with a scraggly but somehow becoming beard and a shit eatin' grin.

"Hello Mother!"

I was enfolded in his arms and he walked through the front door, newly changed from what sounds to be a fascinating trip. 

My son is home, safe and sound.  He has changed; he has grown.   I can't wait to hear the stories pour forth over the next few days.  More to come...

Theme Thursday Halloween

Nowadays, Halloween seems to be more about grownups, their parties and elaborate costumes. But for me, it will always be about my children.

circa 1989

When they were 1 & 2, we dressed them in pirate pajamas, smudged their faces with beards & moutaches and carried them door to door for their first "experience".  They lasted about 45 minutes.  It was the beginning of many happy years to come.

The following year, the pumpkin carving began.  Their father took them to pick out the pumpkins, then sat them on the ground to watch as he carved. 

circa 1990

They were charmed, mystified and delighted all at the same time.

After that, they always had their own pumpkin on which to draw a scary face.  They learned to dig out the seeds, saving them to dry in the oven and, later, feed to the birds.

As they grew, they learned to carve and it was the highlight of the season, after the candy collection of course!  I  decorated the entrance to our home each year using the home made bats, witches, ghosties and black cats cut out of construction paper at school.  I made spider webs of black string which hung from the porch overhang and brushed children's faces.  We had the white fuzzy webs, ghost lights on a string, trees filled with lights and brown paper bags of sand, each with a candle to light the driveway. Carved pumpkins filled our porch.  We played a selection of scary music on the stereo heard up the driveway and into the street.  We lived on a cul de sac in southern California and Halloween was generally warm allowing us to leave the front door open, the electric lights off with only the flicker of candlelight to show the way.

The main event was taking the boys trick or treating.  We'd visit the homes of our neighborhood and a few beyond.  So many people decorated and dressed up for the kids, it was always a surprise and a treat.  We'd take our dog on a leash and the boys' two best friends, a brother and sister, little towheads and cute as buttons.  Dressing the boys was my husbands's task and he approached it with artistry and vigor.  One year he painted the face of one son as a skeleton and the other was a vampire and they were dressed accordingly.  Another year, earlier, they went as Oscar the Grouch and a duck!

So another Halloween approaches and my boys are grown and away.  But my memories are sweet and my heart is full and I wish everyone the kind of Halloween my husband, sons and I were so lucky to enjoy.


Click here for a cute Halloween message from Jacqui Lawson.

To Bryan

Bryan, my wonderful first born son, went to see Bob Dylan in concert for the first time Tuesday night and he was blown away.  He excitedly called his father the next evening to tell him it was...

"...one of the best experiences of  my life" and he "couldn't believe he (Dylan) was real."

He went, in part, because of his father's undying admiration for Dylan.  He wasn't sure if he'd like the music or his singing but came away with an appreciation for all, particularly his musicianship.  He told my husband

"I really wished you were there but I felt like you really were there through me."  My husband was thrilled.

 Bryan is a self taught guitarist and he's very good.  He bought a second hand guitar his senior year in high school and began to learn via computer programs on the internet.  By graduation, he was so into it, we bought him a week's stay at an acoustic music camp on Lake Winnepesaukee where he ate, slept and learned the ropes from hundreds of devoted bluegrass musicians from around the world. 

Since then, he has taught himself electric guitar and now plays in a group in the city where he lives and goes to college.  He sometimes performs solo, singing and accompanying himself on his acoustic guitar.  When my father died two years ago, he left his harmonicas to my sons.  Bryan began teaching himself harmonica listening to Dylan and Stevie Wonder.  He made a harmonica holder out of a coat hangar, then broke down and bought a professional one.

My husband and I have surrounded the boys with music, mostly the rock n' roll we grew up with.  They  appreciate music from our era and have an eclectic selection on their ipods.  I am proud of my son's courage to get up there and perform.  Takes guts and a certain amount of confidence which I certainly don't have! 

His favorite song from the live concert the other night, "To Ramona".

Letting Go Part IV: Next Stop, Barcelona

Blue Door - Spain Series by Carson Pritchard

Our son is headed for Barcelona.  He's been in London over a week and his money is running out.  His travel buddy met a girl there and fell madly in love.  Our son called yesterday to ask what to do.  We told him to discuss it and tell his bud he wants to leave.  If his friend wants to stay, they need to agree to disagree and go their separate ways.  No sense having hard feelings over circumstances. 

We received a quick email today.  He's booked a flight to Barcelona and leaves Wednesday, friend in tow. 
 
Previous trip posts: 
Letting Go Part III

Looking Back

It's Autumn now but this photo was taken twenty years ago on a visit to New Hampshire during another Autumn.  This is my older (by fourteen months) son.  He was two at the time and his brother was a baby.  We captured him in front of our condo in the mountains.  We'd bought it as a second, refreshing, humidity-free escape from Richmond, Virginia where he and his brother were born.  By the time this was taken, we'd moved back to San Diego so I could take a sales management position with a radio station there.  But my heart was already moving away from the corporate climb towards my children and a different life that we would eventually escape to, one that left behind the stresses of keeping up,  wearing the right labels and so forth.  Speaking of labels, I often thought we should have entered this photo in the annual Osh Kosh photo contest.  But we never did.

He was a beauty, wasn't he?   He still is.

Lettiing Go: Part III

Received my third message from Euro-Son.  I tried emailing him "Where are you?" via Facebook.  It worked!   Social networking is for Gen Ys.  Should have known.  I'm all over this now.  Here's his latest: Hey mom we are in zermatt swissland and its awesome. its where the matterhorn is. we climbed up a mountain 2800 meters today and it was breathtaking...its kinda expensive but nothing to bad. i would love to go to where nona is that would be great but ryan and i have no idea what town it is. im trying to get the details right now soo well see...but yea thatd be sweet cuz we need somwhere to go thats relativly inexpensive where we wouldnt have to spend alot of mooney. but yea everything is going well we met these cool spanish kids who we hiked with today and we are staying at a campground. octoberfest was crazy we met lots of ausies who we partyied with for a few nights, they party wayyy hard...kinda hard to keep up, but we still managed, haha. how is everything at home...dad doing ok and the animals, and obviously you. hope so let me know. i love you guys very much and will try to take care of myself and you do the same.

Euro Son & a close friend Feb 2009

It sounds wonderful, doesn't it?

References:  Letting Go
                    Letting Go  Part II

Keeping Track of Our Sons

Ohhhh, this is what I need.  

Letting Go: Part II

Country Lane by Laura Trevey

I share this as a thank you to all who've responded  positively with encouragement and love to my first post on the subject.

Date: Thursday, September 17, 2009, 5:40 AM

hey mom I made it to frankfurt, got a free bus ride to some wierd little town and now we´re at a campground recovering from jetlag. We met a nice guy named Ernst who is letting us use his computer and is an experienced truck driver giving us broken-english piece of mind on how to get to... well we´re figuring that out but i think we´ll start the trek to munich. have terry get us some contacts in neuremburg. I love you guys but i g2g. chow! 

Love the spelling!   I feel soooo much better and so does my girlfriend whose son is with him.  Now we wait for the next email.  CHOW!!

Letting Go

Son #2 left for Europe today.  He's backpacking for six weeks with one of his best friends.  He has round trip tickets, a Eurail pass, his passport, camera, a copy of "Let's Go to Europe" courtesy of his mother and what looked to be a 50lb pack!

I have mixed feelings.  On the one hand, I want him and his brother to travel and explore the world while they are young, before they have serious girlfriends, jobs and responsibilities.  On the other, I'm terrified something will happen to him because of his youth, naivete and inexperience.  I did the trip the year I turned 20.  My girlfriend and I backpacked for three months, same time of year.  It remains the single most significant thing I've ever done besides have children.

So what am I afraid of?  What deep primal fear welled up inside me last night and kept me awake for almost two hours?  What sense of dread do I continue to quell?

Ever since he was born I've harbored a fear of something happening to him.  My husband shares this fear.  Reya, a blogger I follow, writes often about psychic energy and insight.  But mine scares me and I often cannot discern if what I feel or think is psychic, insightful or just plain anxiety.  What I mean is, when I have strong feelings about another person I meet, I honor them.  But when I have strong feelings about someone I am close to and the feelings are based in what I believe may be negative insight, I reject them.  As a mother, I can do nothing less. 

One of the more comforting things Reya has written is "I'm not one of those psychics who predicts the future... the future is co-created, moment to moment, by every person, animal, blade of grass, by every breeze, lightning strike, rain shower, by every tectonic movement, by the effect of the solar wind, the gravity of the moon pulling on the earth, etc. etc. etc. I'm certain dark matter plays a role in co-creating the future. A person would have to see around every corner in order to truly be accurate."  

I like this.  I do not want to predict the future.  I do not want to be afraid.  I want to believe my son is going to have this wonderful trip. I want to learn to let go of not just him but my fear for him.  I love him more than I can say.  How do I learn to let go?

Son #2 (right) with a close friend

Gone in a Blink

Just watched a "Sunday Morning" feature on the anniversary of two political and cultural events: the massacre at Tienanmen Square, June 3, 1989 and the debut of the Seinfeld Show, May 31,1990.

What strikes me about these two wildly divergent items is the passage of time. Where has it gone? How did twenty years of my life disappear "in a blink", the Anthony Hopkins line from "Meet Joe Black"?

Kids. I've been raising kids for the past twenty two years. That's where it went. Or is it?

My husband and I continually marvel at the time lapse between what we remember and when it occurred. Often when a little piece of history comes up, we cannot believe it is ten, twenty or thirty years past. Attending my 40th high school reunion last year was a reality check. Actually, it was more of a bitch slap. With apologies to Oliver Hazard Perry and Walt Kelly, "I have met the aging Boomers and they are me." The deaths of family and friends brings me up short. It's all so fleeting. Yet I take so much for granted.

As a caustic individual who sees irony in all things, I love to say, "Kids suck the life out of you and then they leave." While they're doing that, you're trying to live your life and theirs. It doesn't leave time for much else. Since the boys have moved out, I find myself able to concentrate on other things: politics, writing, blogging, reading, volunteer work. If I didn't work full time I just imagine what I could do! However, that will come.

This contemplation of the last twenty years makes me somewhat sad. I feel as though I've missed something or stopped paying attention. It's bittersweet. After all, I had my children and they are wonderful. I miss my children's childhood. I was present but was I as engaged as I could have been? There's a part of me that feels I should have taken life slower, paid more attention, taken work less seriously, enjoyed child rearing more, savored the moments.

Yes, all the sugary sentiments do make sense. "Take time to smell the roses" or they'll be will indeed be "...gone in a blink."

The Mom Song

This sure makes me feel better about nagging!

"Guyland" or Why My Sons don't Wanna Grow Up

I am reminded of "I Won't Grow Up" song from Peter Pan, the musical. I sang this song on stage at the age of four or five (not sure) during a recital. I still know the words:

I won't grow up
I don't wanna go to school
Just to learn to be a parrot
and recite a silly rule

If growing up means it would be
Beneath my dignity to climb a tree
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow uuuupp!
Not me. Not I. Not me.

I won't grow up
I don't wanna wear a tie
or a serious expression
in the middle of July.

And if it means I must prepare
to shoulder burdens with a worried air
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow uuupp
Not me. Not I. Not me. So there!


Never gonna be a man
I won't.
Like to see somebody try
and make me
Anyone who wants to try
and make me turn into a man...
catch me if you can!

I won't grow up
Not a penny will I pinch
I will never grow a mustache
Or a fraction of an inch!

Cuz growing up is awfuler
than all the awful things that ever were
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow uupp!
No sir!

What strikes me about this video and the accompanying article which you can read if you double click my post title, is how true this study and appraisal of young men seems to be, at least to me.

Our boys are now 20 & 21. They are both in college; one after a false start last Fall. The elder should have completed his Junior year last Spring but didn't want to take a full load. He's still 10 credits short. He doesn't ask for money though. He's working to support himself waiting tables.They are both partyers and neither knows what they want to be when they graduate although the younger one is pretty sure he wants to own his own business and "be rich." I know the feeling.

Many but certainly not all of our friends have sons with varying degrees of similarities in their confusion and their belief they can just get by. None of us understands this and none of us knows how to help. Maybe that is the problem. What we are trying to do and have to learn to do is let go. We have to let go and let them find out for themselves what the world is about.

I listened with rapt attention to Barack Obama's acceptance speech Thursday night. One of his remarks had to do with "accepting responsibility" for who we are and where we are headed. I immediately thought of my sons and wondered when this will happen.

Then I thought of the song, my recital and most of all, Mary Martin.

Playing Hookey

Played hookey from work Friday. Took out our water ski boat with our two sons. This was the first decent (sunny) day after five days of a non-stop deluge and we were pumped! The boys grew up water skiing & wake boarding. We picked our favorite lake, slid the boat in and jumped aboard. After we got out there, however, everyone felt lazy and relaxed and just wanted to lie in the sun, swim and not do much. Our eldest son is home on vacation for two weeks which made it a special day, a family day. We enjoyed every minute.

You know what they say, "A bad day on the water is better than a good day at work."