I am happy to be back to my Monday though Friday routine. The weekend overwhelmed me, and I am happy to leave it behind. I was greeted by the always friendly receptionist this morning with cheery greeting and a “How was your weekend?” My reply was partially honest. “It was okay.” True to form, she fished for a little more, but I didn’t elaborate much more than that. She added that she was always happy that she didn’t have to work and that it enabled her to get just a little more sleep. I tried to fake a smile and agreed with her.
I *was* able to remain in bed a bit longer this past weekend, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. I meant to get up, but could not convince myself that wanted that. It left me scrambling to get the kids to their events, and for me to get my runs in.
On Saturday I managed to finally deposit checks deposited into the kids’ accounts finally. We have only had the checks since August but, like so many other things, they got lost in the shuffle. We got the costumes for Halloween too. BoBo pushed the urgency and I obliged. In the process, I let my toasted bagel filled with cream cheese go cold and then couldn’t stomach it. In turn, I was cranky and could not determine why. I nagged the kids and couldn’t stop myself. In the afternoon, I worked the snack shack at the Homecoming Game. 4 ½ hours of preparing nachos requires a lot of endurance and I did not have the energy as the afternoon came too quickly and I still had not eaten. The day ended with dinner with my Mom and then picking up BoBo and company at the school dance. It was past midnight when my head finally hit the pillow.
The scrambling continued on Sunday morning. I took the morning slow again and lost track of time reading blogs. I noticed the time with 30 minutes left before YaYa was due at flag football. We quickly dressed, drank a glass of milk and grabbed food for the road. It wasn’t enough to fill me up and I hoped that YaYa would be okay.
At his practice, I sat amongst the families feeling the walls of loneliness closing in on me. I tried to escape from it by calling family and friends but nobody seemed to be home or have their cell phones turned on. I watched YaYa run the plays, fumble the passes, and observing the father and son interactions taking place around him. Afterwards, he complained that none of the passes during the game were thrown to him. He said that his job was to stay out of the way. He’s a very smart kid; I had thought the same thing was happening. I reminded him that the ball is always being thrown high and since he is the youngest on the team that it would be hard to catch. I added that when the boys got better at throwing, and he got better at catching, that things might feel better on the field.
When I told YaYa that he would have to ride his bike with me while I did my 10 mile run, he complained with a vengeance. After sitting in the heat for 2 hours, this didn’t sit well with me. He *would* go with me regardless of whether he liked it. I pulled some seats from the van, loaded YaYa’s bike and then we piled in to take BoBo to part 2 of his job interview (observing at the Kids’ Gym that he was applying at). YaYa and I ate some sandwiches at Togos and then drove to the trail.
We returned home to find BoBo crashed out on the couch. The football game was on the TV. YaYa ran off to the neighbor’s house and returned a few minutes later with his friends. BoBo woke up and soon they were all in the front yard playing a game of football. At first everyone was having fun. Before long, however, YaYa was voicing his objections to BoBo’s rough tactics. At the same time, I was trying to talk on the phone to a good friend. I was distracted from the contact that all day I had longed for. I came in the house to find YaYa and BoBo in the bathroom where YaYa was getting verbally abused by BoBo. I stormed in and lost it on BoBo.
While YaYa and the gang ran off, the tension between BoBo and I built until finally BoBo had climbed out his window and ran off down the street.
I knew that BoBo needed time alone but it is so hard not to worry. There has been some gang activity near the mall area and I wasn’t sure where he would go. Sometimes I think that he feels invincible, but I don’t think that I could go on if something happened to BoBo or YaYa. Worry and hopelessness turned to anger. As I looked at the dirty coffee cups in my hand – the ones from the various places that Tom had worked. I thought of throwing them against the fence. I thought of throwing the other coffee cups too. They remind me of him, and of how he left me to raise these kids alone just when it was getting tough. I murmured, “I hate you,” and then began to cry because it is so far from the truth.
After a bit I found myself at the neighbor’s house being consoled with chocolate and a glass of Two Buck Chuck. Christine tried to explore if the turmoil between BoBo and I was new, whether BoBo was in grief support too, and how I was doing in general. I told her that my life “sucked,” that I had a lot to be thankful for (the kids, my job, etc.), but in spite of making it, that I felt inadequate all of the time. She asked what she could do. “The thing is,” I told her, “I don’t know what anyone can do.” Christine and, her husband, Jeff *have* been helping me all along. They provide a safe place for the kids to go, they would be there to pick up the kids if I needed them, they are there when I need to talk.
BoBo did come home. Jeff went down to talk with him for a couple of minutes and then came back. BoBo took a bit more time, and then joined us for dinner. Then he and Jeff went to the other room to watch football together and allowed the merlot to sooth my aches and pains.
I know that I *am* doing better but, just when I think I’ve reached a happy point, grief happens.
Another beautiful post… Just like training… Peaks and valleys… It’s not the peaks that define us…
(((HUGS))) The friendly receptionist has the potential to be very annoying. Did you and Conor resolve the conflict?
:hugs:
I think all you can do is trust that the passage of time will make things better. It hasn’t even been a year. You are doing better but we all have hard days.
Hugs to you and the boys.
…jeez, after that, my youngest getting a speeding ticket on Friday and quitting his good job doesn’t seem so bad – at least you got all of that mayhem packed neatly into the weekend. Keep slugging, we’re thinking of you….
Juls,
Chances are good that the whole weekend would have gone the same way with Tom there. Maybe he would have been in a bad mood and contributed. I’m pretty sure that YaYa and Conor would have had the same exchange – because brothers do that. Unfortunately, they are not always nice to one another. I can remember sitting on the patio in tears, lecturing Web on the awful way he was treating Riley, and mad as hell at Eric for being at work instead of at home to help me. The difference is, and it’s a big difference, is I had Eric at the end of the day to talk it through and to maybe hand it over to. I think you did the right thing in going to the neighbors – sometimes, as parents, we just need to vent. You found a source. I guess my long and rambling point is this – you are not inadequate – rather you had a weekend that most parents have at some point, and you managed it on your own. Not easy, but done. And better yet, you all survived!
I know you know this…and I know that’s why you were mad at Tom – for not being there to give you a break when things are tough.
EXACTLY!
Your household sounds much like mine, I must admit. My 16 yo son (the one I was telling YaYa about on his blog)had his scariest meltdown last week. He would probably be this way despite his Daddy dying when he was 9, but it does make things more difficult as they try to work through the hormonal angst of these years on top of his unresolved grief.
He became physical and his step dad had had enough. There were harsh words, some physical contact (thankfully not a fist fight, but that was what my son was pushing for.) We told him he needed to leave (go for a walk until he is ready to come back and be part of a solution is the expected “leave” in our home)well his walk lasted over 24 hours. He had friends looking, we looked. He finally left a message on the night of the incident indicating he was fine and would be back the next day to talk, but he was still so mad… We decided not to call the police thinking he was safe so we went to bed. When he showed up the next afternoon he was filthy. I asked him where he had been. He told me he had slept under the bridge by the river. He had not wanted to involve his friends knowing their parents would call us. Probably seemed like a good idea until he was cold and awake into the night. It was scary and even though nothing happened to him, he learned a hard lesson.
I tell you this to let you know there are others who are facing similar troubles, and we are good people with good families. You are a good Mom. Your son is a good kid. We all just lose it sometimes and we have to re-adjust, apologize and figure a way to make things better and pray that there will not be many “next times.”
It is a hard transition for some, when no one has died or left. Add the grief to it and it feels next to impossible. I remember that feeling, too. When my first husband left, it was so hard. When he died it was still hard and we had been divorced for 6+ years. My son is still reeling at times from the feelings and what he had hoped would be his future, but never could be.
Things are going smoothly again. The “episodes” are diminishing in occurance and duration. This last time seemed so extreme at the time, but the results of it could not have come if he had just come home and harbored his anger. He found out he has a bigger problem than what he was mad at when the disagreement started. He is talking more, feeling more and willing to start forgiving himself, his Daddy, his step-Dad and myself for all he has preceived or what reality actually has been. Loss stinks and merging the past and the present can be tough. Becoming someone new through grief is hard. It is not impossible though, and it almost always gets easier. How long it takes depends on the individual. Don’t let anyone set the time table on your grief. Be willing to face it and move through it so you can heal.
Hang in there. Parenting is the toughest job that has the greatest worth. You are just in a season that is going to have added stress but it can still turn out to be a great season.