First day of the 2013-2014 school year and as usual I have mixed emotions. As a stay at home mom, I sit here at the computer for the first time in over two months in total, utter silence. No SpongeBob, no Sports Center, no bickering, no whining about having nothing to eat and being "so bored"...just silence. The silence is both welcoming and deafening. I can't believe summer has come to an end and that my babies are out the door again in the big, scary world without me where I have limited control over what they eat (AWEnestly it's probably healthier than what they eat here), who they hang out with, where they glue the eyes on their snowman (I have major craft control issues) and most importantly, why I didn't do a better job preparing them all summer before they stepped out the door today. Sigh, yes, although uninvited, Guilt came over for breakfast this morning.
Many of us mothers have Guilt over for coffee or mimosas (depending on how your morning went) on the first day of school. Whether Guilt arrived to remind you that your child didn't open up a book this summer or look at a single math flashcard or learn to tie their shoes or to ride a bike without training wheels or to suggest that maybe you shouldn't be THAT happy that the kids are gone, Guilt just shows up at your back door and sadly, you let her in. AWEnestly, it's not your fault....the summer just flew by and although you thought there was plenty of time to accomplish all those perfect mom tasks you had made up your mind to do in early June, between shuttling kids to this camp and that camp and sleepovers and vacations, "it" (the list is endless) just didn't get done, but yet, the kids got on the bus smiling and seeming no worse for the wear.
Well, this morning Guilt plopped her uninvited butt at my kitchen table, which by the way was still covered with the remnants of all the last minute school supplies I was shoving into backpacks while the kids were screaming, "I'm going to miss the bus!", to creep into my conscience about the discussion I had last night, and then again this morning with Ryan, my now official middle schooler. Middle School, THE end of childhood and the beginning of hell. Don't worry, I didn't tell Ryan that the middle school doors are actually the threshold of hell. I didn't want to scare him for goodness sake because I most certainly wanted that child to get on the bus so I could save myself $50 shopping without him at Wegmans, but I'm afraid with the mixed messages I gave him, hell may have sounded like a better option to him. Middle school is tough for a lot of kids, but when you throw in a touch of autism, well, let's just say, it's a whole different ball game....in hell.
Well, this morning Guilt plopped her uninvited butt at my kitchen table, which by the way was still covered with the remnants of all the last minute school supplies I was shoving into backpacks while the kids were screaming, "I'm going to miss the bus!", to creep into my conscience about the discussion I had last night, and then again this morning with Ryan, my now official middle schooler. Middle School, THE end of childhood and the beginning of hell. Don't worry, I didn't tell Ryan that the middle school doors are actually the threshold of hell. I didn't want to scare him for goodness sake because I most certainly wanted that child to get on the bus so I could save myself $50 shopping without him at Wegmans, but I'm afraid with the mixed messages I gave him, hell may have sounded like a better option to him. Middle school is tough for a lot of kids, but when you throw in a touch of autism, well, let's just say, it's a whole different ball game....in hell.
Ryan woke up to a new Adventure Time app (some television show that I was also glad was not blaring in my family room this morning) with some video game guy named Bemo as his alarm clock at 6:05 this morning. Ryan came trotting into our bedroom almost as happy as Christmas morning, mimicking the app in his head, which was apparent by his smile. This was a happy, almost 12 year old who was not worried in the least about all the things I fear for him in middle school. Ryan could care less if all the boys are wearing high black socks (which is a look that reminds me of what my grandfather wore while sitting on his porch reading the paper), he happily put on his short socks because they are more comfortable. Ryan doesn't care that very few middle schoolers pack their lunch, he proudly shoved his new lunchbox in his backpack refusing to succumb to chicken nugget pressure. Ryan doesn't care if kids in middle school herd together at lunch time like sheep, he assured me he'd be "just fine" if he decides to eat alone. Ryan prefers some alone time so he can decompress from the pressure of having to pay attention to what the teachers are saying, especially when he is so distracted by his new sneakers that have "too long of a tongue". No, Ryan's only stress probably came from an over anxious mother who wants him to be himself without quite being himself. And so this is why Guilt showed up today while I was eating my granola, soggy from my tears.
"Ok, Ryan, now remember, lock up all the characters from Adventure Time, SpongeBob, The Rabbids and Mario Super Smash Brothers in your special lockbox in your brain, since there is no place for them in middle school because kids might tease you if you script the show or make silly noises.....Oh, and if your nose runs, please get a tissue, don't lick it....And if your nose gets dried up, please don't pick it with your fingers and for the love of heaven, DO NOT adjust your "stuff" in the hallway, at your desk, on the bus or at lunch, no matter how much "they" are sticking to your legs....Remember what I said about trying to find your friend at lunch so you don't have to sit alone, you are in 6th grade now, so you can sit with anyone you want....Oh, but, don't forget the most important thing though Buddy, BE YOURSELF"! Do you see why Guilt showed up today? How can my sweet boy, be who he is, if he has a nutsy worrying mother telling him, for the most part, to not be himself so he doesn't get picked on, bullied, or teased. Now that I think about it, I guess I did leave my back door open for Guilt to just waltz right in and eat my granola.
Mixed messages for sure. Of course I love Ryan and believe he is perfect just the way he is, but middle school kids may not think that and leaving Ryan alone and vulnerable in the cafeteria, almost makes me puke my granola. Unless you were able to block out your middle school years through hypnosis, we all remember what it was like. Of course it wasn't all bad, but if one person made fun of you for wearing Jordache jeans and carrying a purse, well, you just tend to remember (I hope "she" reads this blog and feels badly about the obvious damage "she" caused me). Trying to fit in when you care is difficult, trying not to stand out when you don't give a shnikie (Ryan's substitute word for sh**), can be even harder....at least for mom.
As I sit here waiting and worrying for the bus to return my boy to me, Guilt has decided to stay for both lunch and dinner. I fear Guilt may make a permanent residence on the basement couch during these scary middle school years. Ryan's biggest concern for middle school is how hard the schoolwork will be, not who he will sit by at lunch with his plain lunchbox ("Mario lunchboxes are for elementary students"....sigh, more guilt) packed with a cheese sandwich cut in triangles EVERY single day, or if bullies on the school bus will make fun of his no longer in style, short socks even though their high socks look like they belong in a nursing home. The line between Ryan being himself and not being "too different", which could make him a bulls eye target of bullying, is very fine. Even as Ryan's mother, I have a hard time walking it.
Now that Ryan is a big kid, there are some adjustments he must make. Ryan should no longer use his tongue as a tissue for his runny nose, nor should Ryan use his fingers to pick his dried nose. Ryan must learn to adjust his sticking to him "stuff" in private, or at the very least, through his pockets, even though we have all witnessed many grown men do this regardless of their age or location (having different "stuff", I try not to judge too harshly). And although Ryan cares little about that "fine line", he will have to walk it by learning what is socially acceptable without compromising who he is in the face of bullies.
The most important thing for Ryan to learn and one day understand, is that his mother, who tries so hard to protect him, love him and do right by him, will continue to screw up....a lot, and regardless of how much his mother has learned over the years, Guilt, Denial and Clueless will still occasionally stop by for a quick bite. I just pray that any damage I do, can be undone or at the very least, forgiven with some "I will try harder" warm chocolate chip cookies (from a bag, sorry, but I don't think I did enough damage today, or any day for that matter, to actually bake from scratch) that are baking in the oven now. And even though I know Guilt will still be here when Ryan comes walking through that front door this afternoon, happily moaning at the smell of melting chocolate, Guilt isn't touching my boy's chocolate chip cookies. Guilt, my friends, has already taken enough today.
Mixed messages for sure. Of course I love Ryan and believe he is perfect just the way he is, but middle school kids may not think that and leaving Ryan alone and vulnerable in the cafeteria, almost makes me puke my granola. Unless you were able to block out your middle school years through hypnosis, we all remember what it was like. Of course it wasn't all bad, but if one person made fun of you for wearing Jordache jeans and carrying a purse, well, you just tend to remember (I hope "she" reads this blog and feels badly about the obvious damage "she" caused me). Trying to fit in when you care is difficult, trying not to stand out when you don't give a shnikie (Ryan's substitute word for sh**), can be even harder....at least for mom.
As I sit here waiting and worrying for the bus to return my boy to me, Guilt has decided to stay for both lunch and dinner. I fear Guilt may make a permanent residence on the basement couch during these scary middle school years. Ryan's biggest concern for middle school is how hard the schoolwork will be, not who he will sit by at lunch with his plain lunchbox ("Mario lunchboxes are for elementary students"....sigh, more guilt) packed with a cheese sandwich cut in triangles EVERY single day, or if bullies on the school bus will make fun of his no longer in style, short socks even though their high socks look like they belong in a nursing home. The line between Ryan being himself and not being "too different", which could make him a bulls eye target of bullying, is very fine. Even as Ryan's mother, I have a hard time walking it.
Now that Ryan is a big kid, there are some adjustments he must make. Ryan should no longer use his tongue as a tissue for his runny nose, nor should Ryan use his fingers to pick his dried nose. Ryan must learn to adjust his sticking to him "stuff" in private, or at the very least, through his pockets, even though we have all witnessed many grown men do this regardless of their age or location (having different "stuff", I try not to judge too harshly). And although Ryan cares little about that "fine line", he will have to walk it by learning what is socially acceptable without compromising who he is in the face of bullies.
The most important thing for Ryan to learn and one day understand, is that his mother, who tries so hard to protect him, love him and do right by him, will continue to screw up....a lot, and regardless of how much his mother has learned over the years, Guilt, Denial and Clueless will still occasionally stop by for a quick bite. I just pray that any damage I do, can be undone or at the very least, forgiven with some "I will try harder" warm chocolate chip cookies (from a bag, sorry, but I don't think I did enough damage today, or any day for that matter, to actually bake from scratch) that are baking in the oven now. And even though I know Guilt will still be here when Ryan comes walking through that front door this afternoon, happily moaning at the smell of melting chocolate, Guilt isn't touching my boy's chocolate chip cookies. Guilt, my friends, has already taken enough today.
Betty Crocker probably makes a better cookie than me anyway....and look, 2 Box Tops for Education! Win win!
RSS Feed
