Friday, March 25, 2011

It's Hard

Being a Mom is hard.

Anyone who has children knows that parenting is hard work. And  for those of you out there that have little children - I hate to break it to you - but it doesn't get easier as they get older. It just gets different. Let me tell you about my kids:

( Remember we are a blended family - so two were mine - two were his - all four are OURS no matter how you slice it. But I say that to say that two of my kids have the same first name. So- I am going to use middle names here -to distinguish them.....) I'm going to start with the oldest -

Allen: He is the oldest of all of them - and he is my first born. He is a delightful, charming, beautiful human being with blond hair and blue eyes and a heart of gold. He seriously could sell fire to the devil he is that charming....but it hasn't always been this way. He is now 26 years old and just in the past couple of years has he grown into this beautiful man. I wish I knew how to link to a previous post so I could remind you of how sweet he was to me at his wedding. But as a baby he was difficult - to put it nicely. He cried all the time - he was hungry all the time - he never ever wanted to nap - let alone sleep a nice long stretch at a time. I can remember feeling like a terrible Mom - and I was SURE he hated me...because nothing ever made him happy. As a toddler he was inquisitive- he was busy (!) and he was a handful. This didn't change as he grew older. We went through a lot with him. As a teenager he started drinking, when he joined the military I was really happy because I was SURE this was going to straiten him out. It just got worse. He drank so much and lied so much and didn't pay his bills, and had cars repossessed, and broke hearts across the entire USA and eventually was in such a bad place the military kicked him out. With no where to go he came to stay with my husband and I. It was a nightmare. He drank. He partied, he lost job after job. He spent his money hand over fist until he lost everything in an apartment that he got evicted from. It finally came down to us having to turn our back on him - we had to throw him out to make him grow up. It was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. To know that my son had no home, no job, no money, no car....I cried every day- all day.

But he's fine. It's what he needed. Tough love. Some how, some way - being scared straight worked for him. He lives in NYC now - he got married in October to a fantastic lady - and he is awesome. AWESOME.

But it was hard.

Kathleen: The only girl. My girl. I was so excited to have a girl. Fru fru frilly pigtails and princess stuff. Barbie dolls - she loved them. Ribbons and glitter and baby dolls....she loved it all. I was so excited to think of proms and her wedding day - a grandchild some day. She was an easy baby. An easy toddler. An easy child....until high school when at 16 years old she told me she is gay.  Before I go any further let me just say that I am not a homophobe. I know that you can't help who you love and I know it isn't sinful to be gay etc. But I didn't know how to be the parent of a gay child. That wasn't in the plan. The plan was white picket fences and "normal" life. It was hard. Not for me, not for my husband. For her. We had lots of extended family bull to deal with when it all came out. Why anyone gives two shits about somebody elses life is beyond my comprehension. It's her life to live. I was supportive, and will continue to support her to the bitter end. The truth is - people only care about what goes on behind closed doors. I personally don't care what you do in your bedroom - and I think y'all need to not care what I or she or anyone else does in their bedroom. For as much as she drives me crazy ( she's a girl after all - and mothers and daughters always have issues, don't they?) she is a good girl most of the time. She has a really caring heart and even in her insanity she is someone I would want to be my friend - even if she wasn't family.

But it's hard.

Jordan: OMG. Well - this would be the bi-polar suicidal son that makes me cry buckets. He is my "step"son. Some people in the weirdness that is my extended family make a huge point of distinguishing this. It's never been a point worth making in my opinion. I have been in this childs life for 15 years. ( BTW he is the same age as Kathleen) We have had custody of him for most of it. He is a married man, now separated, and the father of my beautiful grand son and he is hurting and suffering and life sucks for him right now. We've been through a lot with this child. He has caused himself and many other people lots of pain and heart ache. He can be charming and sweet - but he can also be cold, and manipulative and MEAN. Down right mean. It's the disease I know. But truth be told - I don't think its ALL the disease. I'm not a shrink - but many many years before his bipolar diagnosis was confirmed I was telling his Dad that I was SURE he was bipolar. He has all the classic symptoms and then some. I love him. We all love him. But he makes it really really hard to like him sometimes.

Really Hard.


Michael: EYe yi yi Michael. My sweet baby. He also is my "step" son. But - he was just so little when I came in to his life that he truly thinks of me, calls me and tells everyone I am his Mom. This is a thorn in the wierdness that is my extended families side. Especially is Mothers father. We all know that carrying a human in our belly and giving birth to it does NOT a Mom make. But - he is adament that Michael put "STEP" in front of Mom when he talks about me. Michael is so much like his Dad - he ain't doin' it. No how No way. Wanna know why? Because it wasn't HIS idea. He is delightful - but he is head strong . He is sensitive and sweet and emotional and smart and a handful for sure. He has a sort of twisted way of looking at things - not wrong necesarily - just different. He has a temper - OMG. He is the one out of the four that will drop what he's doing to come across town and give me a hug when he knows I need it. He has been difficult over the years though. I have I can't tell you how many holes in my walls that have been patched or are in the process of being patched because he gets so mad he punches things. I love him. He knows it.

But it's hard.

And no matter how old they get it will be hard. They all have problems. They all have something going on that is at this very moment making my heart hurt. I wish with everything I have that I could just cross my arms, blink my eyes and fix everything for them. But I'm not a genie - I'm just a Mom.

And it's hard.

1 comment:

  1. And you never stop being mom. The hardest job on earth.

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