Everyone asks me, “How are the boys?” It is so hard to tell for sure. I say that they are okay “for the most part” but who really knows. I know that I have good days and bad days. I expect that the same is with them.
The emotions are certainly intensified in our home these days. The frustration, sadness, and anger come on ten-fold. What’s a Mom to do? It’s hard to know exactly.
YaYa and I came home from the baseball game to find BoBo in the front shooting baskets. It seemed normal enough, but something wasn’t right.
Very non-challantly, he asked me for something to which I said “no.” This wasn’t what he wanted to hear but I figured that he shouldn’t be too surprised. But it *was* a big deal, or at least turned into one. I didn’t occur to me that it was something bigger until he disappeared out the front door.
Now, teenagers do need their space often enough and BoBo has been no exception. I figured that I’d give him a while to cool down before I went for a ride through the neighborhood. After a while, I did pile YaYa into the van and drove around.
I called BoBo’s cell. He kept answering and then hanging up. It didn’t allow me to leave a message so I called my voicemail and sent a voicemail to him from there. I said that he needed to call me back or his weekend would be in jeapardy too. He promptly called.
In the meantime, YaYa was near tears asking what would happen if BoBo never came back. The poor kid; he shouldn’t have to worry about these things.
BoBo told me where he was and asked for an hour by himself. It turns out that it wasn’t really me but he still needed to be alone. I granted him some alone time. Minutes later we were sending text messages back and forth to re-negotiate the curfew. Technology sure has changed things since I was his age.
In my messages, I told him that I loved him and that I was sad too. I said that I thought we should be together but allowed him the time. I told him that I wouldn’t be sleeping until I knew he was safe at home.
And NOW home is where he is.