A free-range scare…

Its important to me to allow the boy space to explore and go to his friend’s houses. Most of the time my allowing him a long leash works out pretty well for both of us. Unfortunately, there’s the occasional snaffu. Earlier this week, someone stole the boy’s scooter and tonight he was out well past dark and I started to worry.

Now, I wasn’t really worried someone would take him. Reading the Free-Range Kids Blog has taught me that such fear is rather irrational. But as the time ticked by and there was no sign of the boy, the irrational panic started to creep up on me anyway.

Shit, I thought, I only have two phone numbers and he at least four friends around the way. I was kind of uncomfortable about knocking on doors because, well, what if the other parents judged me for letting my kid roam around the neighborhood? Bed time was approaching at an alarming rate (probably because the boy was out WAY past dark) and I was starting to freak out. I called one friend, the one who was probably the least free-range, and of course, the boy wasn’t there because they didn’t allow visitors after 5 PM during the week. I had to try though.

As I started walking around the neighborhood, I realized that there were only two houses I knew for sure he might be. So I knocked on the other. There were two kids there who didn’t belong, neither of which was my boy. I went back home. There was no way I was just going to knock on random doors. To me, that meant panic and I was not going to panic.

I decided to walk around a little bit more trying to recognize some of the houses the boy had shown me. It was dark and I just couldn’t remember. I headed back to the house where his friends were (probably also well past curfew) to ask if they knew where the boy might be and just before I walked up to the door, I saw a little dark figure in an orange shirt across the street. So I called out.

“Um…” I said as he turned toward me. “Do you know how long it’s been dark?”

I walked up and introduced myself to the adult (and parent of the friend) standing outside with him.

“I asked him what his curfew was and he told me 9:00,” said the friend’s dad. “It sounded a little late to me, but we were about to have him call you and give him a ride home.”

I made sure to get the parent’s number and assured him that the boy was supposed to go home when it was dark. 8:30 was far too late, especially since it had been dark for more than an hour.

As the boy and I walked home, I chastised him about being out so late.

“But I was watching a movie,” he said.

“I don’t care. When are you supposed to come home?”

“When it’s dark.”

“It’s not that big a deal if you want to watch a movie and eat pizza,” I said. “But at the very least, you have to call me and let me know where you are.”

He took a bite of his pizza and acted like it wasn’t a big deal.

I stopped and made him look at me.

I explained that having the freedom to run around unsupervised was a big responsibility; one he shouldn’t take advantage of if he wanted to keep it. If he couldn’t be trusted to come home when he was supposed to come home, he’d be on lockdown indefinitely.

He raised an eyebrow at the idea of being “on lockdown.”

“That’s right,” I said. “If I can’t trust you, you can’t go anywhere.”

He hung his head and sighed. Then he looked up at me and said, “Ok, mommy. I’m sorry. I’ll be more responsible next time.”

We hugged it out and I made him go to bed early.

Tags: Free-Range, Freedom & Responsibility, Teachable Moments, Teaching Responsibility

There are assholes everywhere

A year ago I decided it was time to move. There had been two “shoot outs” in as many weeks, both of which involved my immediate neighbor. I had lived in that place for 9 years and while it wasn’t what I would consider an affluent neighborhood, it certainly wasn’t as bad as some of the neighborhoods in LA.

There were lots of kids, all of whom were pretty much given free reign to play anywhere in the complex. If any of them tried to venture out (as I’m sure some did), there were security guards at the gates to stop them.

But with two shoot outs and an impending rent increase, I decided it was time for me to go and set out to find a place between Long Beach and Irvine where I worked. I ended up finding this cute little place in Orange where there were lots of kids and families. It was a little suburban for my taste, but the school was good and my commute to work would be cut in half.

And I like the neighborhood for the most part. It’s been good so far. I had even gotten more comfortable with giving the boy a longer leash and letting him ride his scooter around, as long as he stayed away from the main road. He had made friends and knew to come in when it was dark.

Today though, things were terribly sullied.

The boy went out to ride his scooter as he often did when there was still light when we got home for the day. It was starting to get dark and I was watching the door for the boy to come bursting in. And he did…but without his scooter.

“Where’s your scooter?” I asked expecting him to tell me he had forgotten it at a friend’s house again.

“Someone took it,” he said.

“WHAT?!?” I was in shock.

“A kid just walked up and took it from me.”

“What kid? Do you know him? Have you seen him before?”

“I’ve seen him once, but I don’t know him.”

As I questioned him, the boy’s shoulders begin to slump and I could tell he was seriously hurt. Not physically mind you…but you know…someone had taken his shit right out of his hands!

“What happened?” I asked. “Tell me exactly what happened.”

He told me how he was riding past one of his friend’s houses and this kid he didn’t really recognize came up behind him, punched him and told him, “Gimme your scooter bitch.”

“I tried to chase him and get it back but he was on my scooter and I ran out of breath.”

I couldn’t believe it.

That’s the kind of story you expect to hear when you live in the hood not when you’re in what you thought was a safe suburban family cul-de-sac. I sat there in shock for a few minutes before telling him I was sorry he had to go through that.

And he broke down.

“It really, really sucks,” he sobbed. “I really liked that scooter.”

I held him close, told him I knew and assured him he would get another.

“Just like that one?”

“I can’t promise you that honey.”

“But that was my favorite scooter ever.”

“I know honey, I know.”
Fuck. There are assholes everywhere.

Tags: Assholes, Crimes, mean kids, welcome to the 'burbs

The unconditional love of children can melt away even the worst bad mood

Making plans, getting my ass in gear and guess what…today I’m at a complete loss for what to say.

It was a craptastic week. Stressing about money, ambush at work, injury from working out…I’m tired, cranky and I just want to isolate myself in my room. I want to lock the door and watch TV on the internet until I fall asleep.

Unfortunately, the boy has other ideas. He wants me to play and watch him dance and sing. He wants to sit with me and watch TV but I just want to be alone. I snapped at him a couple times because I tried to tell him politely. But really, its just me and him, so I totally understand why he just wants to sit under me. Read more…

He Was Driving Me Crazy the Other Day

But today all I could do was think about how cute he was. I even laughed at his silly jokes; some of which were directed at me. Yeah, the boy is a cute, smart, funny kid.

And I think I’ll keep him

Tags: Me and My Boy

Confessions of a Crazed Mom: Stop Bouncing Around!

Today I’m going to take a brief diversion from all the goal setting talk to make a confession. I’m sure most parents will agree that while mostly fun and heartwarming, sometimes you just get tired of “Mommy mommy, look at me mommy!”

Now I love the boy, but fuck if he isn’t jut a bundle of energy. All. The. Time. And that can be really exhausting after a long day at work when you have freelance projects to do and you have cook dinner and make sure write a blog post for the day…

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining or anything (ok, I kinda am), but is it too much to ask that the kid not bounce all over the freaking house from the moment we walk through the door to the moment he goes to bed? It’s like he likes when I yell at him to stop bouncing all over the place!

On the weekends, I send him outside and tell him not to come back until he’s hungry, but during the week and with it getting dark so early, he doesn’t get much playtime between school and the YMCA. So I try to stay calm and remind him that flipping is not an indoor activity (Yeah. Flipping).

I know I’m not the only parent who longs for silence from time to time. I love the boy. Sometimes, I just don’t love the energy.

Tags: Children, Crazed Mom, Too Much Energy

He was frustrated, I really shouldn’t have laughed…

The boys had been at the pool and returned early because the little one fell and hit his head. He had been running. He knows better. I gave him the look.

Right away he starts crying about how his brother was chasing him and…Then the brother cuts in with no he wasn’t and suddenly the little is growling, turning red, flexing his little muscles while breathing in big huffs. I was seriously afraid he was going to pop something.

I’ve seen him get all worked up and frustrated because he feels like no one is listening. And with two older boys around who like to play the dozens and make a joke of everything he does because he’s younger, the little has a hard time communicating sometimes.

A few deep breaths later, he wiped away his tears and I gave him my undivided attention so he could speak his piece. As I expected, he began to ramble about the brother chasing him and the uncle laughing at him and no one listens…And crying and huffing again.

He backed into the corner and huffed and puffed and yelled, “Everyone makes me angry!”

I laughed and he shrieked.

I told him I was sorry but he was being ridiculous. His brother had apologized for making fun of him and the uncle for laughing at him. Then I gave him the speech about choosing to be angry or letting the negativity go. He could be happy or he could sit in the corner huffing and puffing and being angry even after everyone had apologized.

And then I walked away.

He came out of the room shortly thereafter and began talking and playing with the other boys like nothing was wrong.

Tags: drama, Meltdown, Sibling Rivalry

OMG! OMG! OMG!

The boy can swim!

I believed so hard it made me angry yesterday when he wailed like a little girl and said he didn’t think he could do it.

“Yes you can!” I snapped, irritated with his lack of confidence. After all, his mother had been a competitive swimmer from the age of…whatever age they let you start competing…and there was no way I was going to raise a kid who couldn’t swim. Pa-leeze *rolls eyes*

I ignored his tears and cries that it was cold, held him out in the middle of the pool, pointed toward the wall, told him to kick his feet and move his arms. As I felt him start to push himself, I would move my hand from under him.

Every. Single. Time. Without fail, he’d panic waiting for me to save him from drowning, instead of focusing on getting to the wall.

“Go toward the wall, not me, ” I would say moving out of his path.”

He’d gasp for air when he reached the wall, giving me that can I please get out now mommy look.

Today though, he went with my sister. I didn’t feel like swimming and my halfway-around-the-fucking-world boyfriend wanted to talk as soon as I got home…so I didn’t go tonight. I was sitting in my room watching John Stewart on Hulu, when two wet people walked in breathing hard and excited.

“Mom I can swim!” The boy said before I could tell him to go back out and close the door. “I swam in 8 feet!”

My sister told me some long ass story about how great a teacher she is and then asked if I wanted to see him do it. She must’ve been reading my mind because, I was sitting there in utter disbelief. Was this confident man-child I saw before me the same crying little brat I who had scratched me a couple days ago when he tried to jump on my head and I moved away?

I grinned from ear to ear as we walked to the pool…My sister was asking me if I was really proud and all I could do is smile like an idiot.

When we go to the pool, the boy climbed down the ladder. He pulled his goggles down over his eyes and turned to my sister while still holding onto the wall.

“You read?” She asked.

“Ready,” he said.

“And…go!”

As soon as she said it, he pushed off the wall. Kicking furiously, moving his arms and moving across the pool!

OMG! OMG! OMFG!

He stopped, winded on the other side of the pool. “I want to go back.”

“Go.”

I cheered as he swam across the pool, pushing himself hard, completely focused on making it all the way to the wall. He looked like he was working so hard, but I could tell he knew he could make it and that all he had to do was keep going.

And he did.

Two more laps later, he climbed out of the water, exhausted and breathing heavily.

I beamed at him as my heart swelled.

“That was a lot of work man,” I said holding back tears. “I’m so –” my voice cracked. “I’m so proud of you.” I hugged him tight as the tears spilled down my cheeks.”

As we walked him, I was filled with such pride. For so long now he thought he couldn’t do it and I reminded him that he would learn. And today…the boy swam from one side of the pool to the other.

The boy can swim and I am one proud momma.

Tags: Accomplishments, Struggles, Swimming

And What Am I Supposed to do From an Hour Away?

Sometimes I really miss working from home…for a number of reasons. One of those reasons was being able to take care of daily things for the kids and still work full-time. That benefit is that when something goes wrong, I get a call from a teacher…I can handle it. Case closed.

Not so easy working and hour from home. Especially when you child kicks another in the back and the principal tells you that your kid needs to be picked up right away.

There was of course the initial shock of hearing that my child did something so ridiculous, then my brain went WTF! Who…can I call to pick this boy up?

I stammered, “I’m in Irvine…” sort of thinking out loud.

“Oh,” said the principal. “You’re at work…?” He read me the people on the emergency card. “Can any of these people come get him.”

“No…” The wheels were still turning. I knew my sister was still at the house, but she didn’t have a phone. I could call the neighbor girl babysitter to let my sister know I needed the boy picked up right away. I told the principal my sister would be there as soon as possible.

I made the call and I guess I didn’t express the urgent nature of the situation because when I called back 20 minutes later, neighbor girl hadn’t even gone to tell my sister anything…She was all “Oh I was just heading…” And What the hell?!

Through grit teeth as polite as I could muster, I told her the boy was waiting at the back gate and it was very important that someone pick the boy up immediately. At this point I didn’t care which one of them did it; the sister, the neighbor girl…There wasn’t time for relaying messages and shit like that when some coachee is standing at the gate with your kid.

Neighbor girl assured me she’d go pick him up right away. I thanked her, took a deep breath and went to a meeting. Cut to an hour later, I have multiple missed calls on my cell, from both the school and the neighbor girl.

Are you freaking kidding me?! Seriously?

She still hadn’t picked up the boy, hadn’t gone to tell the sister that he needed to be picked up…hadn’t done a thing. Said some shit about not knowing which gate to go to…It was all screwy and bottom line was that the boy was staying at school.

After work and happy hour with other editors, I called the neighbor girl in response to a text message saying she wanted to talk. She vomited her frustration into my ear asked for her pay for the week and hung up. I called back and tried to talk to her but she decided she was busy and I told her I’d talk to her later.

I almost didn’t talk to her. I almost just let it go and vented to my sisters my own frustrations. Had I not come home to hear that I had apparently cursed the neighbor girl out. Now I might have sounded short and stressed out, but sometimes things are just urgent. However, I was at work and I know for a fact that I did not use any profanity in any of those phone calls.

So just to clear the air and make sure the neighbor girl knew that I was a real bitch, I knocked on her door and asked her why she was telling people I cursed her out. Of course she back-peddled. I’m grown, she’s a 17-year-old who thought she was grown. There was no intimidation mind you, just a conversation about what really happened. An apology from me for being short with her on the phone, but it was important and she just didn’t seem to get it.

I saw her roll her eyes when I started to lecture, so I stopped.

“Anyway,” I said cutting myself off. “I just wanted to get everything out in the open so we could be done with it. No love lost…” I saw her crack a little bit of a smile. I smiled back, “Can I have a hug?”

We hugged and I told her to take her skinny ass in the house before she caught her death of cold.

Phew! And can you believe that there was more crap that fell on me today?

I’m tired…

Maybe tomorrow will be a better day.

Tags: Stress, WTF

The Boy is Awesome! He Get it From His Momma

Got a call from the boy’s teacher again. The boy had forgotten his homework and was in danger of missing the big field trip later in the year. There was a three strike rule after all, and he had just earned his second strike.

I was a little upset of course, partially because I know the boy works hard; doing hours of homework, making sure I check it (the boy is relentless), reading the decodable books over and over…I get exhausted just watching…

What made me think twice about coming down hard on him were my plurk friends who reminded me that the boy is amazingly independent and responsible for a six year old. Not so long ago, I talked about how much he misses me. Despite his teacher’s insistence that he’s acting out and attention seeking, when we’re at home, the boy seems to be doing just fine (stupid adults). So instead of chastising him, I showered him with hugs and kisses, told him I’m proud of him, that he was a great kid, that he was working really hard, and it would be a shame for him to miss out on the field trip because he forgot to turn his work in.

My plurk friends are right though. Since I’ve been working from home, I wake the boy up as I’m walking out the door. Sometimes, he’s up before that, getting in the shower, picking out his clothes and such; most of the time, needing no help from me. If he’s hungry, he even get’s his own breakfast (no he’s not cooking yet, but he can certainly make cheese toast, pour himself some cereal or toast some Eggos). Of course he’s not home alone, but my sister usually sleeps through both of our early morning routine so he’s doing it all by himself. He’s 6!

So Mr. Teacher sir, you can kiss mine and the boy’s awesome asses. We’re both doing the best we can and if that’s not good enough for your stupid field trip, then I’ll take the boy somewhere special on my own. You may not want to leave him behind, but I’ll tell you what he’ll learn if you do. It won’t be that hard work is rewarded. Instead, he’ll learn that no matter how hard you work, you’ll never be good enough.

That is what breaks my heart the most. That for all his hard work and self sufficiency, he’ll be punished for forgetting his homework a few times. I’m pretty sure, Mr. Teacher, that you’ve forgotten things even as an adult, but because you are an adult, no one told you (either verbally or with negative reinforcement) that your hard work was for naught.

The lessons the boy is getting from having to do so much on his own are just as important as learning to read and do math; just as important as doing homework and memorizing some list of words…As he grows up, he will emerge as one of the most mature, well rounded, confident, compassionate, intelligent and critical thinking kids in his generation; largely due to his being the only child (living with) his single mother. You might think his forgetting his homework is irresponsible, but the fact that he makes it to school everyday without much help from anyone sounds like he’s pretty damned responsible to me.

Yes, the boy is awesome!

Why Can’t They Just be Happy?!

I was going to write something heart warming about my son being home for the holidays. I’ve missed him so and I just wanted to be positive about the whole thing. It sucks wasting precious time on negative energy…but dammit, this visit is much harder than I anticipated.

I wanted us to spend time together laughing and cherishing the few moments we have…He’s only going to be here until the 31, not even two full weeks. Instead I’ve been mediating silly misunderstandings between the boys, which I suppose is normal, but I just wanted them to hang out, have fun and love each other.

Well…when I walked in from work today, my sister was yelling at the boys about roughhousing too much. They had spent what little dry part of the day outside but were still bubbling over with energy and she wasn’t having it. Apparently they had been wrestling and doing what boys do. The problem is that the little one couldn’t really hang and kept getting hurt…which is precisely why I hate that sort of play in the first place.

After I dealt with the initial drama I thought everything would be cool. The boys went into their room to play and were fine for a while until I hear the E yell “I’m sorry B! I’m sorry!” Then dramatic sobbing.

Dammit! What now?!

Breathe…breathe…

E was sitting on his bed still boo-hooing. I resisted the urge to grumble inwardly as I walked over to the bed, hearing B’s voice but not being able to figure out where he was.

“He’s under the bed mom,” E said.

“What’s wrong now?” Unfortunately my exasperation came through and the water works on E were going again. “What’s going on?”

E squealed something about B being mad at because he’d accidentally hurt B’s finger… sobbing

B interjected, “But I’m not mad. It’s just… indecipherable sobbing

What the hell?!

“Come from under there, and both of you…stop crying,” my voice was getting louder, but I didn’t want to yell. They were hysterical and needed me to be calm. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”

B: He hurt my finger, but it was an accident and he keeps saying I’m mad…and I’m not,” he squeaked the end as he held back the tears; lip quivering.

E: I said sorry, but he’s still mad at me sobbing

“He said he’s not mad,” I snapped. “How frustrating it must be that you insist he is mad, when he keeps telling you he’s not.”

B: This is why I play alone! Every time I play with someone they get hurt! huge dramatic sob

I felt like I was in some sort of warped universe. I had no idea what was going on. B obviously wasn’t talking about his finger being hurt and E was just upset because he thought he had hurt his brother. B kept saying, “I’m not used to playing with other people,” and my heart was breaking because all I wanted them to do is play and enjoy each other’s company.

Me: You have to be able to play with your brother-

B: But I can’t play with him because he’s just going to get hurt…

M: Stop focusing on something that’s over and move on to the next thing…

‘Round and round we went, until I just held them both close to me, shushing them. “Stop, stop, stop.”

Finally B pulled away and said “I just need a few minutes alone.”

“Ok,” I stood up and reached out for E’s hand. “But B, don’t wallow. Use this time to calm yourself down. I’ll check on you in a bit.”

I didn’t have time to go back to check on him before he came into my room, where E and I were slightly distressed about not being able to console B.

B: Can I talk to mom alone please?

E gave his brother a hug and smiles as he closes the door behind him.

B: You know how I was telling you that I’m used to playing alone? (I nod ) Well it’s because I don’t have any friends…the kids, they all make fun of me…”

So now we get to the root of the issue; he’s an outcast. Well, not much you can do about that other than develop thick skin and sharp wit with which to confuse any potential bullies. I told him that I understood and that he would have to be real strong. Let them hate, because people who pick on others only do it to feel better about themselves.

We had a nice long talk, followed by a group hug. We ate dinner, read a bed time story and now I’m exhausted.

Add to all of this that I forgot something really important for my mother, which I don’t even have the energy to get into…

All in all, an emotionally draining, shitty evening. sigh

Tags: Boys, Children, Danger Duo, family, Stress