postcards from the edge of busy
you’ve been there too, right? busy.
in fact you probably live there. like i do. that place where there is goodness. and wonderfulness. sunshine. clouds. bad days. and glorious days.
that place where husbands have to work. and while this puts food on the table and everyone gets new shoes. it doesn’t allow for a lot of free mama time.
life stretched so thin you can almost see through it.
children growing up and doing things like passing their driver’s education and smoking marijuana for the first time.
he doesn’t lie to you and you wonder if that is a good thing?
you just want to read stories and work on failed science experiments. a battery operated morse code.
and discuss van gough. even though it is a little weird that he cut his ear off.
so you pull them closer.
worried and waiting for the ugliness of the world to penetrate.
clinging. desperately to each pearly bead.
because really, that’s all this mama can do.
from the edge of busy.
because i do care. and i am there.
and so is HE.
and at the end of a long day. that’s really all that matters.
i am helpless.
He is omnipotent.
why is it so hard to get that through my thick head?
i wanted so much to talk about food. and how i used thyme from my garden for dinner. sangria. my first yellow iris and the white ones that are blooming next. but my heart is heavy tonite. heavy with the burden of raising a teen in these hellish times.
the metamorphosis from boyhood to manhood can be a beautiful thing.
but right now i feel like i am experiencing my very own pieta.
the lifeless soul of my son lies in my hands.
and all i can hear is the ticking of the clock as i wait for time and grace to heal things that only time and grace can heal.
he is not a bad boy by any means. he is just trying to find his own way. separate from me and his father.
i just wish his head was a little softer than mine. so that the important stuff could sink in. making my life a lot more bloggable……..
I have pretty much refused to blog about my son being asked to smoke pot w/ his friends recently. See, on government property it is a federal crime as well as a crime elsewhere, but worse when you are military. Kids find out they are not invincible . . . the easy way or the hard way. So far, I believe mine hasn’t done it . . . but he has said he’s been curious and luckily, that kid can’t lie to me. I told him (well, I’ve told my kids repeatedly as they have been growing up) that “You know, I will be disappointed if you do these bad things to yourself – the ramifications are unknown – but I will be on the other side of pissed off if you lie to me. I appreciate raw honesty. So, if you do something OWN IT, whether you are ‘proud’ of whatever it is or not . . . but do not ever lie to me ‘cos that will be the end.”
Plus, their dad scares the shit outta them. 😉
You have my prayers, darling. I love you and you are my sister in Christ. I gladly lay prayers for your family at the Cross.
The idea of having teens terrifies me. As nuts as this place is with babies and hyperactive toddlers, out “problems” are pretty simple.
I had a super-liberal upbringing, where so many sinful things were completely acceptable. I was raised to think that there was nothing wrong with recreational drug use, premarital sex, dabbling in the occult, homosexuality, even abortion. It was all “okay”.
I was baptized as an adult, thanks to God’s grace, so I am free of my past. But I still worry about how much may come back to haunt me through my children.
Mary is all mothers. We all stand at the foot of the cross and behold the brokenness of our children at some time or another. I just hope that if any of mine get lost, that I will live long enough to see them make their way back, so that I won’t die a heart-broken woman.
In the end, they are only on loan to us, and we do the best we can. Once they leave us, all is between them and God, and we can no longer be held accountable. But we will feel accountable forever. Because we are mothers.
Prayers for him to do what is right in the sight of God, and for your peace.
Sigh. And a big hug.
It is good that he did not lie. As long as he feels it’s safe, he will not.
Yesterday my boy tried to tell me he had not been smoking (cigarettes), yet I could smell it all over him. He thinks I am stupid? He should know better — I am Sherlock Holmes! Then he admitted that he smokes occasionally, which I still doubt. He makes my chest hurt and I make sure he knows it. A boy should not cause his mother pain. Which is why he lies, I suppose. It seems there is no winning this fight, yet I will go down fighting. So will you.
Keep your boy on your rosary every day, and in between the rosaries. All day I pray for that boy and ask my Savior’s Mother to watch him (and scold him — yes I ask Mary to scold my son!).
Thank goodness he told you the truth …. lying is so much harder, because we as moms know anyway and then the trust is damaged/gone. I have much to learn; I can see/observe already that I must pray more often.
A constant question of mine is ‘why Lord, did you give me THIS child??’ I know why! I hold honesty and truth inviolable (lessons from my own childhood and long held) and I’m supposed to teach/model. I still ask, though. Somehow it helps get rid of the frustration of the moment.
Your last line sums up my feeling for the past year! I want to just pour it ALL out, but I can’t; I’m held back. And, it’s not just for the sake of the kids. Life is not all roses, it just seems that way sometimes in blog-world.
Praying for you & yours today.
Oh, Regan, I am a mother of children ranging from 22 months to 23 years old. All I can say is, in my experience, there will be a lot of disappointment, worry, blaming of oneself…just try to keep a watchful eye, listen more than you speak, and pray without ceasing. Peace and prayers.
i’ll pray. for your boy, and for you.
Regan, so sorry. Our prayers will lift you, and yours him. I know you’ll do what’s right and best.
do you have a bsmt? lock your son down there like …forever!!!! oh just kidding ya know me
prayers for you and him
such is life and I agree. This is like the worst time in history to raise a kid. So much stinking junk out there.