A Public Service Announcement ..sort of

                                 My oldest child begins college in about 10 weeks. He will be starting in a summer session at the University of South Florida,  his father's and my Alma Mater.   I am very happy for him , even though he was labeled as a "summer acceptance" . Apparently , this doesn't mean that he was so smart that the school could not wait to get a hold of his over sized brain. It really means he had something on his high school record that made the USF admissions dept. be "on the fence " about him. Now, he applied and was accepted to 7 schools in all.  No other school deemed him a summer acceptance , so that says a lot for USF's high standards. The reason USF was "on the fence" had to do with an incident that occurred his junior year of high school. He was suspended for 5 days due to a tweet that the district labeled "cyber bullying" . Anyone who knows Zach, knows bully is the least of what he is. He is so passive that sometimes I think he's comatose. However, one tweet to a random kid changed the way his future Alma Mater looked at him.  He will enter on June 29th on "behavioral probation" , and if he does well in his classes and avoids trouble he will be cleared for Fall semester with a clean record. All because of a word that was on twitter sent to another student.  One word almost made USF turn him away.
                                      I am writing this because I can not stress enough the importance of not putting every mean, thoughtless word out on the internet.  Not because you don't want to say them, but because of the ramifications of saying them. This one thing that Zach did has affected many aspects of his life, from being banned from junior prom last year to losing a long standing family friendship. Sadly, he was just a kid doing what they all do , tweeting endless drivel hoping to get attention. Which he got, in spades.  So, make sure you tell your children the lasting effects a few words can have, especially if they are floating in cyberspace for all to see. No one ever thinks they will be labeled a "cyber bully" for something so simple as a word. No physical contact ever even occurred in this instance. I jokingly told him he should've just punched the kid, the consequences would've been the same and he would've been more satisfied. Of course I was kidding, but you get the idea.
                                      The last 4 years of high school have been a learning experience for Zach (and me too) in so many ways.  The most important lesson we are coming away with is there are consequences for every action, both good and bad. An honor student/ athlete was the least likely kid to end up with a "behavioral probation" label entering college but it happened and if it happened to him it can happen to anyone.  So, to all my friends with high school students please use this as a teaching tool/scare tactic/whatever. I wish I would've had this knowledge a year ago.  But instead we will enter USF as a problem child and make quick work of proving everyone wrong.

It's the Little Things

                                           Today , as I was cleaning the floor around my dining room table from the post-birthday festivities of yesterday, I saw a white box. It was a box that was left out from my Christmas organizing a few weeks ago, and I had obviously shoved it into the corner of the very rarely used dining room and completely forgotten about it.  There was something about this box that stopped me and my Shark floor steamer in my tracks. It said, in beautiful flowery handwriting "Joyce". I realized I had all but forgotten what my mother's handwriting looks like. I stared at it for a minute , ran my finger over it, and sat down on the dining room chair that used to be hers as well. I'm forgetting so much. So much of the little things, like her handwriting.  There have been random moments over the years since her death that something I see or hear stops me in my tracks. Something that makes me breathe in sharply, stop for a minute and then go about my business. These moments are not something I dread or hate , they are the moments that bring me back to Earth . They make me realize what I have lost, and that now it is me who is making memories that my children will have always. That it is my name someone will someday see on a box, shoved haphazardly in the corner and they will stop and smile. At least I hope they will stop and smile. I hope I am doing as great a job as she did. I hope these moments do not stop coming for me, I hope the name "Joyce" continues to appear where and when I least expect it bringing me back to the realization of how much I miss her, and need to remember her , even if it's just flowery handwriting on a box.

This Never Gets Easier, Does It?

                          I read a blog this morning on Facebook that inspired me to write this next piece. It was about how hard it is to parent older children. You know, the ones who can feed, dress and go to the bathroom on their own? About 15 years ago if someone would've told me how long these creatures would sleep eventually, and how they would sit quietly FOR HOURS in their rooms entertaining themselves in a few years , I would've wanted to teleport myself ahead to that blissful sounding time in my life just for the peace and quiet ! I was always thinking this would get easier. I was not entirely wrong. Physical demands have gotten a bit easier, and no one needs me to wipe their bottoms anymore so that's a huge win. There is , however, so much more emotional stress and doubt that comes with the parenting of these older , "easier" children. I am not really prepared for it, and find myself looking wistfully at the screaming toddler in Target thinking " if that's the worst thing he does today, you are blessed".

                          My children are 17, 14 and 11.  Each comes with his or her own challenges , and their own terrific qualities as well. The 17 year old , who I love more than I ever imagined I could love another person, is constantly a source of worry.  This age brings a whole slew of nerve wracking experiences to the parenting table. There's driving alone , driving with friends and driving far distances . Those things have single handedly increased my blood pressure and frequency to which I must color my hair. Unfortunately, the driving is the easiest thing I have to face with that child. There's choices he must make, knowing when to intervene and when to let him make the choices (even when they are the wrong ones..this happens A LOT). There's seeing him not get what he wants, even though he has worked for it. That's the hardest part, because when they were babies they had little to no disappointments ever. Mom could fix everything and I did.  Now, not only can I not fix things(mostly because I don't know how), but I have to let him have disappointments because it's part of life and shapes him as a person. I worry every single day about him , and if he winds up going away to college I cannot imagine that worry just dissipating because he is no longer under my roof. Oh joy, I get to worry in absencia..

                            The 14 year old worries me because she is a girl. There I said it. I have a double standard , and I don't care who knows it. She cannot date until 15 years old (by 15 my son already had several girlfriends ) and even then it should be in a group . If that group has to be me and her father then so be it.  She has always been very headstrong , so parenting her as a toddler was not much different than now. Except she was little and I could just pick her up and divert her attention. Also parenting a girl is way different than a boy. I want to say harder , but that's not entirely true. For a mom, it's actually like parenting yourself at that age. That is not fun in any sense of the word. I was a headstrong , mouthy, too smart for my own good bitch.  You know what they say about the apple not falling far from the tree, right?  I cry everyday in some way, shape or form about the job I am doing with her. I feel like it's not good enough, she deserves so much that I feel I can not always give her. I didn't feel like that when I was being a mom to a sweet red-headed baby, I could give her everything she needed. Now, I have to curb that to teach her she must earn things, work for them or figure out a way to do things herself.  That will help her be a strong woman, one who is ready for the World. There is not a doubt in my mind that in 4 years she's packing up and going far away to college, mostly because she tells me this EVERYDAY. But I believe her , because it's exactly what I did..

                                 Now, the 11 year old. My baby, my surprise, the one I wasn't sure would be a good idea but turned out to be the best thing I have ever been given.  He is very different from his siblings. Different in a good way , for the most part. He's a little immature , innocent and still enjoys the role of the "baby" . My other two were born mature. This one is still 7 years old in my mind.  He is now in middle school, which I still have to remind myself on a daily basis. He is getting taller, lankier and even a bit more independent. I look at him and I see my older son at that age , and I want to cry because I know how very, very fast this all goes. Maybe that's why I have such a hard time letting this one go. I am now facing middle school party invitations, messages from little girls who want to talk to my baby, and him asking to ride his longboard to CVS... all these scenarios have been met with my pat answer to him "You're a little young for that, buddy".  And off he goes , still okay with that answer, but I know the clock is ticking. Tick tock, time to defy Mommy. It's coming, and this child doing it to me is going to be the real one/two punch.  He was the most patient, sweet baby who never gave me a minute's trouble. I wonder if my luck will run out on that as I parent him in this next phase of life?  I often talk about how he is a C student, just happy to get by in life, content to stay home and play video games or watch TV. The more I think about that, the more I realize that may not be so bad. From a parenting standpoint , he's low maintenance. After the other two , that may be just what I need...

                                   Every passing year brings more revelations as a mother. The early years you learn exactly what your body is capable of and how much you can actually love a person . You also learn that everything is not about YOU. The ensuing years are like a roller coaster , you're up, up and up , then there is the free fall period before you are on the straightaway again. I see the parenting of the older children as 70% free fall, 30% up and up. Maybe after they leave , and become the people they are supposed to I'll be on the straightaway.  But for now I'll just enjoy the ride.

MY Grown Up Christmas List

                                     There's a Christmas song that I heard this afternoon while driving alone in the car called Grown Up Christmas List. I usually change the radio station when any holiday music comes on, except for Feliz Navidad because, well, who can't help belting that one out at the top of their lungs? This time , I kept the radio station right where it was because the song was so pretty. Then I had a great idea. I would make my own Grown up Christmas List.  It would not have material items on it , at least not wants and wishes...It would have what I would ask Santa for if anything were possible...
                       
1. To never have to worry about my children's health. I would ask for a guarantee of healthy lives for each of them.
2. That my dog live until she is very old and will not suffer when the time comes.
3. That my husband doesn't have to work until he is 70, and tired. That our money will grow, and emergencies will not arise to knock down our nest egg.
4. That my daughter comes to realize that I want what is best for her, I am not trying to make her miserable .
5. That Mikey graduate high school. (ok, this one is only kinda serious) .
6. That Zach gets to fuflill his dream of playing college football and we don't have to travel to Minnesota or some other God forsaken frozen land to get that opportunity.
7. That if Zach doesn't get to play college football, he will always keep the memories and experiences from when he did play and look back on it fondly.
8. That I will learn to embrace change in both my body and my mind . both of which are losing steam.
9. That I will learn to listen to people more , and talk less.
10. That my patience is extended a few more years , since I have a lot of teen years ahead of me to deal with and I want to be as even keeled for Mikey as I am for Zach. (This one is doubtful).

I could probably come up with 10 more things to wish for this Christmas, but this is a good place to start... I hope if you get chance to listen to this Christmas song you will and maybe it will inspire you as well... If not , change the station. Feliz Navidad is on somewhere!

8 More Quarters ...

                         It was the summer before the 4 th grade , when a good friend and neighbor said to me, "Hey , why doesn't Zach sign up for football?"  I thought for a minute and said, "Well, if you're doing it , then we will too." At the time Zach was playing baseball and he was involved in Karate as well. Plus I had a preschooler and a toddler, that both required my undivided attention. However, I was all about creating a well rounded child, and he did seem to like to hit things , so football it was. Thus began an 8 year journey , starting with the New Tampa Sharks (where my heart still resides, as well as some of my great friends) and now ending with the Wiregrass Ranch High School Bulls. We are two weeks away from completing a very long and fulfilling chapter in our lives, and I don't know how to feel about that. Eight years of watching my son get hit, do the hitting, save a game, lose a game has been a veritable roller coaster ride of emotions for me. But this is not all about me. It is about a boy who became a young man right before my eyes, and football was always in the backdrop of that childhood.
                         If any of you know Zach, you know he is not a picture of a football player. He is thin , almost too thin, and right at 6 feet tall. He is more pegged as a baseball player or even a runner. Both things he has done, but has always come right back to football.  I remember the first time he put those huge shoulder pads on when he was a Mitey Mite for the Sharks. He looked so small, and so adorable. Then , after many pictures and oohs and ahhs , I watched him play. Then I knew, this kid could PLAY. He wasn't afraid to get out there and possibly be hit, albeit by another miniature 9 year old ,because those were the days of weight class football. Week after week for four years he played rec football, and was the starting QB for most of those seasons. He gained confidence, strength and problem solving skills over the course of those years. (Yet the National Honor Society rejected him because he had no leadership qualities, but I digress...). Once in high school football was a test in accommodation. He learned to improvise, and adapt new attitudes all the time due to several coaching problems and changes. All the while keeping an attitude of positivity and always playing at the very highest level he could.  He still, as a senior player on Varsity, is called upon week after week to sometimes play out of his comfort zone, and he does. And he does it WELL.  He has gone from exclusively playing QB during JV season to playing many positions, both offense and defense ,4 years later.  He may not be the best player on the team but he is the one the coaches go to all the time.
                         This is not a testament to how great a football player Zach is, it is a testament to how sports can shape a person . He did most of his extracurriculars in high school on that field. He missed countless weekend trips, vacations and job opportunities because he has devoted his time to playing a sport that he loves and trying to get better at it. He has the minimum number of volunteer hours required by Bright Futures because just try to fit in volunteering somewhere for 100 hours between weightlifting,speed drills and practice. This sport has been a constant in his life , and our family's life as well. Every Friday night in the Fall , we can have no plans . We are at football, period. Am I going to miss that? Desperately. Am I going to miss worrying that the next hit my kid takes on the field will be the one that has lasting repercussions? No Way. So you see, there's the mixed emotions I was talking about. I know Zach feels this way as well. He loves the game, but hates the grueling schedule. He loves being a part of the team, but hates the constant soreness and aches he has. But obviously the love outweighs all that other stuff because he has stuck with it for almost 9 years. And so have I.
                         Now it's time for college applications and decisions. He would love to be part of a college football team. So far no coach is looking at him. Probably because of that 6 foot, 160 lb frame of his. Its definitely not because of his stats, or his tenacity on the field, because both of those things are stellar.  I want him to achieve his dreams , and if playing football is part of those dreams then I hope he gets an offer. However, football has taught him discipline and strength , which spilled over into his academic life. If Zach doesn't make a  college team , Zach still gets to go to college because he kept his grades up throughout these years of playing football. And that was a lesson was worth learning these past 9 years.

Oprah has A-Ha moments I have Ah- Shit moments.

                        Today I had one of those A-Ha moments, well it was actually more like a Ah-shit moment, in Bath and Body Works. I was there for my monthly Wallflower splurge , if you have to ask what these are we can no longer be friends. I got up to the register with my 4 Wallflowers, free mini candle and new autumnal Wallflower plug in (it light s up!) and I heard the two cashiers talking. Now, these girls were probably 19 years old , very cute , perky, candle loving looking young ladies. I could've liked them until... they said to each other "I have never heard of this song" to which the other  candle pusher replied "me either, it's horrible." The song was a Paul Simon classic titled "Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard" . I had been singing it just seconds before as I placed my purchases on the counter.  Clearly, my face changed when I heard the girls saying they never heard of it ,because my daughter looked at me in horror. She KNEW what was coming.  I had to say SOMETHING.
                      Let me preface this by saying that  I am guilty of playing music to my children from decades ago. They are used to it and now they just bring their headphones in the car if they don't want to hear "my" music. But before the headphones and iPods they were schooled on what is classic and what is, well, crap. This has resulted in three children that can belt out any Billy Joel, Beatles , Eagles , Jim Croce and yes, Paul Simon song.  They may not like it but they recognize it. These two salesgirls clearly did not have mothers who loved them. Or they did not have mothers who could hear, maybe they were children of deaf mothers? That's all I could fathom from the fact that neither of them had ever heard of the song. But surely they knew who the artist was, right?  WRONG. When I butted into the teeny boppers conversation at the register(much to my daughter's embarrassment) I said "It's Paul Simon, you know the better half of Simon and Garfunkel?" Their reply was, excuse the pun, the sound of silence. Blank stares and then finally they both said "oh" . And back they went to ringing up my Caramel Pumpkin Spice wallflower.  I continued humming about Julio and the schoolyard as I walked out with my overpriced, over fragranced purchases but I could not help but wonder...when did I become the old lady who shakes her head in disbelief at teenaged cashiers whose knowledge of music clearly doesn't expand past Lil Wayne. I'm fairly certain that in 43 years , while they are shopping in Bath and Body Works , Little Wayne songs won't be on in the background for their shopping pleasure. My children disagree with this. They say these songs now are the classics of tomorrow. Really??? Well in that case I'm glad I'll be dead, or at the very least deaf.
                           So my Ah shit moment came when I realized that I'm getting seriously old. I mean in the last two weeks we've lost Robin Williams and Joan Rivers , both of who were a giant part of entertainment throughout my life.  Then it was the 17th anniversary of Princess Diana's death a few weeks ago, and my son and his girlfriend found me watching footage of her funeral on my laptop. When they both said "who is that?" I thought they were kidding, and after a few minutes of asking them questions, I realized they were not . That was such a huge part of history that I couldn't believe that a 17 and 18 year old did not know about it.  I watched that funeral while rocking my 2 week old colicky son all night , crying both from lack of sleep and from the loss of a woman much too young to leave us. But these are my memories, not the youth of today.  I can't expect them to hold these things as dear as I do. The reason I know every word to Paul Simon songs(among others) is they were in the background of my childhood. They left an imprint that stayed with me.  I just hope the things leaving their mark on my children are as long lasting and worth while, but if not I have definitely snuck my fair share of "oldies" music in their heads so that maybe they'll be caught humming about Julio someday too.

Sure they're old...but I love 'em!

                       I am going to preface this blog by stating I am not a concert kind of girl. I hate crowds , paying 11.50 for a salad , 4.00 for water and parking a mile away from the venue which leaves me having to walk that mile in adorable but hellishly uncomfortable Michael Kors shoes. So if I do go to a concert it better be worth all that . Which is why I hardly ever go . However , when I heard the Eagles were coming to Tampa I knew that I HAD to go. The Eagles are more than a bunch of 60 year old men trying to rekindle some semblance of youth to me, they are my childhood, my teen years and my memories.
                        Being an only child , I was always alone in the backseat of my parents car listening to whatever they were listening to. It was the Eagles a lot of the time. I had no one distracting me with petty arguing , or silly road games so I listened to the words. And, the words are amazing. And alot of the songs spoke to me . Different songs at different times of my life, but the Eagles could always strike a chord with me. Last night , I had the opportunity to see the people who painted he backdrop of my childhood , who made long car rides and nights in my room so much more pleasant. Now, sometimes things are built up in your head so big they can never measure up. This concert was NOT one of those things . Hearing Don Henley address the audience , tell jokes and sing was so sublime . Glen Frey , the voice of so many songs ( with and without the Eagles) was narrating the concert and making an even better connection to the songs and their meanings .And Joe Walsh , well , he was Joe Friggin Walsh. It happened to be the man's 66 th birthday and the last hour of the concert he gave the best performance I have ever seen . Life's Been Good to Me So Far performed live , all 7 minutes of it , is a memory I'll never forget.Thanks to my IPhone video , I won't have to...
                   I am not writing this as a concert review, although it certainly sounds like one. What spurred this on is a review I read this morning in our local paper of this concert. It was mostly talking about how old the band members are and how worn out their songs are and I feel like the reviewer missed the point. Of course we all know the Eagles songs , how can anyone over 30 years old NOT know them? Sure they're old guys, they've been singing for 43 years .However, there is something to be said for a bunch of old guys ( or legends ,as I like to call them) selling out a venue on a Wednesday night . 17,000 people were there , and I am willing to bet they were just as in awe as I was to see these guys sing ,in person, the songs that are the soundtrack of a generation.
                    Am I old? Yep. Would I shell out 200 dollars a ticket to see Drake or Macklemore?? Nope. But if it's to listen to the bands that made me learn to appreciate and truly listen to music , break out the Amex! I'm so glad that I was able to see these icons in person, it may very we'll be the last time they are all together and we are all getting old with very little time kept for missed opportunities. The Eagles taught me that , just listen to their lyrics...