i say dumb things, and other parenting mistakes
Wednesday, August 18 
Middle Son enjoying one of many great meals we had in NYC. Photo by John Porter.
I feel disconnected from my boys lately. A few years ago, Oldest Son used to slay me by randomly saying, "Mom? I'm into you." And I would try not to melt right there on the floor, because I've learned not to make a big deal about ANYTHING boys this age choose to share with me.
I don't hear "I'm into you," anymore. At ages 12, nearly 14 and 16, the boys are into their friends. Friends are more important than sleep, even. When they got home from three weeks in Minnesota with their dad last month, they gave Shawn and me a quick hug and wasted no time locating friends they could have sleepovers with.
In any case, I still attempt to connect with them — I'm not ready to concede their emotional emancipation just yet. When Oldest Son was in middle school I took him on a special trip (promising his brothers that they would each get a special trip alone with me as well). We went to an orphanage in Hermosillo, Mexico, and worked for a week. We came home closer than when we left, and still talk about that trip years later. So when I went to NYC last week I took Middle Son with me for his trip. Very different from his two brothers (not outdoorsy, musical, loves computers and movies), a first trip to a big city seemed just right for him.
Family generously showed him around the city while I was at the BlogHer conference, and I reserved several days after the conference to explore with him as well. We packed light (no luggage, just backpacks), so were able to be adventurers landing at JFK, taking the bus, then the subway to City Boy's apartment in Harlem. Coming from such a white, middle class town as Bozeman, walking with Middle Son in neighborhoods where we were the only white people was invigorating.
Anyway, a bizarre thing happened while we were out exploring. Middle Son reached over and grabbed my hand. Have you ever seen a 14-year-old boy hold his mother's hand? I hadn't, until then, and I know it's something that would never happen at home — I had to go to NYC with him for that.
He held my hand while walking across the Brooklyn Bridge, while ordering crab rolls at a farmers market and navigating crowds of people in Times Square. A few times he even put his arm around me while walking, and I reluctantly had to tell him it was just too freakin' hot for that.
All this is not to say we didn’t have our moments, but our renewed connection allowed me to clear a few things up.
“So what do you hate about me so much?” I asked once when I was clearly getting on his nerves.
“Do you really want to know?” he asked.
“I do,” I said.
“Do you want to know what bugs me about you right now, or in general?” he clarified.
“In general,” I said. “Let’s work on the big picture.”
“Well, sometimes you use really dumb words,” he said.
“I do?” I said.
“Yeah, you use words like shindig. It makes me want to punch something.”
“Shindig?” I replied.
“Ugh!” he said.
“Okay, okay. What else?” I asked.
“Well, when you laugh one eye squints and the other pops out. And you do this stupid rocking back and forth thing,” he said, demonstrating. Apparently I’m a freak show when I laugh.
Thank goodness someone finally had the guts to tell me.
Really though, I can’t say enough about taking kids away from their friends, computers, phones, etc. and taking a trip together when teenage drift sets in. It was reaffirming, and so far I haven’t cracked and said what I’m really dying to say…
I’m envisioning Middle Son’s friends over, all of them ignoring me when I bust in with, “Hey, son. I know! After having so much fun together at the hoe-down, how about we put together a little SHINDIG for you and your friends tonight?”
Reader Comments (9)
Shindig , really that is so funny. That is sweet that he held your hand. Inside every big boy is a little boy who needs some reasurance from his mommy. I always think how nice it is how Shawn and Mom have their little rituals and how is was Shawn that coined the word Muv. It is a combination of Mother and Love. No matter how old your boys get they will always need you. I am really enjoying these blogs about the big city.
Make sure you burst out laughing after you lay that comment on him.
It kills me when parents let their kids spend unlimited time with screens and friends, then wonder why they're not close. It's easy these days to go that route, given our busy lives, but the good news is that we can reconnect if we're willing to drop the external chatter for a bit.
I can't wait to make a joke at your next little shindig. I want to see the freak show. I know my kids wish my tonsils weren't on throbbing display when I laugh, but I think tonsils need fresh air and a good shaking now and then.
I can sure relate to the pain of being objects of horror to our children. But I have been told, by them!, that because they trust my love totally, they don't have to patronize me or make sure my feelings are coddled. Especially during divorce days, when everything goes to hell. Sure worth it, though. Parenthood: not for sissies.
I'm afraid to have kids. I don't know if I can handle them telling me I'm not cool, though I'm clearly not. ;)
That's sweet that he held hands. I hope my kids are as nice to me as yours are. I guess the teens are hard, but I'm sure once they're mature and all grown, they'll be thankful you were such a "dork".
p.s. my nostrils flare when I laugh really hard. I'm in trouble, aren't I?
I can remember how certain (inconsequential) things my mom said drove me crazy. Probably right on par with "shindig".
We are finding out that one on one time is important for our boys. At 2 and 3 they already need mom or dad time.
SDA: Yeah, it's important to remember they still need you, even when they don't show it.
Bliss Chick: You're right, and for some of us, getting away from that external chatter actually involves leaving our home to get away from phones, friends, TV, computer...A power outage from time to time could be a blessing in disguise.
Nice Lady: NOT for sissies.
Becky: I hope I haven't swayed you — kids are worth it. And you already know about the nostril thing, so you're ahead of the game.
Melynda: Yes, the one-on-one time was needed when my guys were younger, and is still just as important. They eat it up!
There's nothing wrong with shindig! Ask him if he'd prefer hootenany!
Love the description of one eye squinting and the other popping out. Oh my! Makes me glad I just have screaming toddlers.
My oldest was telling me the other day not to do or say something that embarrassed him, trouble is I can't remember what it was. He will just have to suffer through it again I guess. It makes me remember telling my mom, Ok just DON'T GET OUT of the car when you pick me up at the dance because SOMEONE MIGHT SEE YOU! I think being seen with a parent when one is in the seventh grade is near fatal. Unless of course you are in NYC where no one can see you anyway. Sounds like you had a great time.
Amy: Oooh, hootenany is a GREAT word. I'm adding that to my artillery.
Pooknelle: Too funny! Apparently, I'm always forgetting what embarrasses my boys as well...