Wednesday, January 23, 2013

Gone Fishing

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“Mom, will you take me and Ryan to Law Street?”

They wanted a ride down to Pacific Beach where they thought the bodysurfing would be better than at the beach right by our house.  This was legitimate because the wave breaks are all different.

I didn’t have the time to stay and watch them.  I overheard his friend asking if they could just be dropped off.

This is all new and uncomfortable.  Leaving my son home alone is one thing.  Leaving him at the beach with a friend unsupervised is another.  I called the Professor.

“He needs some freedom.  He’s a strong swimmer.  It’s just an hour,” the Professor reassured. 

It was time to take a risk, but I was terrified.  I had worked myself up to First Born Prince either drowning or sneaking off to make out with some beach babe while he held a joint in one hand and a beer in the other. 

“I don’t want him to grow up too fast,” I argued.

“He’s not going to grow up at all if you don’t let him go figure a few things out on his own,” replied the Professor who grew up in a New York nanosecond. 

Ugh. I relented. 

“Okay, Charlie, grab some towels, I can drop you off, but only for an hour while I…zoom to the grocery and maniacally throw food into the cart …grocery shop, then we have to hustle back home.”

They seemed a little too excited with the news.  They seemed like drug addicts who just found a twenty-dollar bill. 

As we pulled up to the beach access point, synchronizing our watches, I heard his friend whisper, “Did you bring it?”  My son shushed him with his eyes. 

My heart skipped a beat.  This is it.  Here we go.  It’s happening.  He was going to go off and do something he didn’t want me to know about.  I wanted to shriek, “Bring WHAT?”  I thought about parking the car down the road, and belly crawling back through the ice plant.  I couldn’t believe it.  How was I ever going to let go?  Damn it all to hell.

I came back right at the scheduled time and watched them walk up with huge grins on their faces, my son carrying a bag.  He waved it around.

“We caught a fish!” 

“What??!!”

“The waves weren’t that great so we walked down to the pier and you can rent fishing poles for $7 an hour.”

He has a new debit card that accesses his own money but he usually asks before he buys anything.  I approve all purchases and acquisitions, even a burrito.  He didn’t ask this time, he was testing my control, he didn’t want me to say no, he wanted to do something without asking mommy first.  I wondered how much longer he’d need me.

“Mom, will you please, please cook it for us when we get home?”

Sunday, January 6, 2013

What Went Right



Today is the last day of Christmas break.  Normally I’d feel totally wiped out, like I just finished a perverse marathon where the goal was to consume all the shopping trips, cocktail parties, meals out, school holiday performances, See’s Candy, and Chardonnay possible between November 22 and January 1st without going broke, throwing up or yelling at any dim-witted retail clerks.  This year is different.  I feel good.  I could probably still use a week at Betty Ford, but I am mostly in a healthy place -- rested, inspired, and connected with my family and friends. 

Were my relatives all medicated?  Did someone slip the Professor a lobotomy?  Had the boys finally taken me seriously about cutting off technology devices?  Was it possible that my best friend intuitively knew that what I really needed for Christmas was a nice, long visit with her?  Why did everything go so well?

It started with Thanksgiving.  Charlie’s Bar Mitzvah was scheduled for the Saturday before, and I was planning to be the ultimate nut job and turn a simple Bar Mitzvah celebration into a week-long festival of eating, drinking and arguing, with the grand finale being a homemade turkey feast for anyone not smart enough to leave town promptly after the Bar Mitzvah ended.  Fortunately I didn’t get my way.  My mother-in-law invited everyone to Cabo San Lucas for some R&R.  Thank God she is brilliant and I didn’t spend the week in my kitchen, muttering to myself, wandering around with a glass of wine permanently glued to my palm.  And I didn’t miss the smell of turkey cooking, not one teeny, tiny, little bit. 

I wondered if we could repeat the success of a calm holiday over Christmas break.  Traditionally we meet our friends in Palm Desert, which is restorative, but this year they had just flown out for the Bar Mitzvah and we are heading back to see them in February.  The Professor suggested we go to the Galapagos. Even though I love to travel, the magic, I knew, wasn’t in taking a trip.

I had so much work piled up that I feared vacation would turn into me at the computer and the boys in front of the TV.  I wanted to spend quality time with them but also wanted to get a lot of shit crossed off my list.  I didn’t want to spend my precious free time buying a bunch of crap for them and then yelling at them because I spent my day running stupid errands instead of doing something of quality.  I wanted to be productive and be with them, and that was it.

We decided to stay home for Christmas, have a few friends and family over, get caught up on all our projects and take a short trip to San Francisco.  To ensure we didn’t let the two weeks slip by without honoring what was important to us, we each picked something we wanted to do individually and also something we wanted to do as a family.  I wrote them on a white board and left it up in the kitchen.  This was our list:
--bodysurf day and movie night with Aunt Hayley
--sleepover with Jack (that was Sam’s, not mine)
--walk around the neighborhood with Huck at night to see the Xmas lights
--family board game
--family movie night
--take sheets and blankets to animal shelter
--volunteer at Hunger Project
--long hike

We did all of it.  As a HUGE bonus, the Professor took the boys hiking for three days to Joshua Tree and I literally spent the entire time researching and writing.  No errands, no socializing, just peace of mind.  It was one of the best gifts I ever received.  Time. Time to think.  Guilt free.

My last blog post was July 20.  My resolution for 2012 was:  Time for writing, quality mothering and better health.  Two out of three ain’t bad.  Maybe I can sit myself down at my keyboard more often in 2013...