While it’s obvious that I spend a lot of time with Iz, especially during school vacations, you might be wondering where Nathan’s been lately. For those who don’t know, I have two children; Iz is 7 going on I-know-more-than-Mommy, and Nathan is 17 going on my-Mom-is-crazy-but-she-is-the-gullible-parent-so-I-will-put-up-with-her-because-she-gets-me-out-of-school-on-religious-holidays-that-I-don’t-believe-in. Anyway, this school vacation is the first where Nathan has all but fallen off the radar screen; thus, I’m beginning to detest his mobility.
Nathan got his license in February after it took him a bit (okay, it seemed like forever) to get his learner’s permit, finish driver’s education, and then finally be ready for the license test. Lately, his license seemed like a parental Murphy’s Law or “Field of Dreams” gone wrong; if they get their license, they will come…home only when they feel like it. In the last week, I had only seen Nathan four or five times, and most of those times he was horizontal and fast asleep.
It’s funny how unalike your kids can be; mine don't have the same father, which makes them different, but I know from having siblings that even if you have the same father, you can all still be very different. As an example, I practically had to force the car keys into Nathan’s hand. Then there’s Iz; if given the opportunity, she’d take my car keys tomorrow, if I let her, and do her best to drive herself to Sephora, Claire’s, or Chuck E. Cheese.
Lately, this is how I know Nathan’s in the house.
Does he still have blonde hair? Is he still tall? I’d never know, because this is what I “see” of Nathan lately; well, I imagine he’s sleeping, because I can’t hear the sound of gunfire coming from Call of Duty XXII.
Sufficed to say, now that Nathan has a license and a job, I don’t see him much. He gets up, takes the car, and goes off to school. He manages to put down his X-box controller, take the car, and go to work, or he walks in the front door, plays X-box and/or eats two bagels and drinks a root beer and then asks, “Do you mind if I take the car and sleep over _insert_Matt_or_Ben’s_name_here_ tonight?”
When Nathan’s not a door with bumper stickers on it, he’s a ghost. He floats in and floats out, an apparition in soccer shorts carrying a backpack or in his tan khakis and red work shirt. I know he’s there, because he’s always jingling those car keys as he says in a low background voice “Mom, I’m going to _insert_work_Matt’s_soccer_practice_here_.”
Yesterday morning, he came home after staying at Matt’s the night before. I saw on his Facebook page that he had been up for two days in a row. At the time, I thought it was teenager hype, but when Iz and I left for the beach yesterday morning, Nathan had morphed into the door with the bumper stickers on it.
I tried calling him on the way home from the beach to see if there was garlic bread in the freezer. He didn’t answer his cell phone. Either he was screening his calls or he was still horizontal.
After three hours of driving, two hours at the beach, and 194 questions from Iz, one of which was “Is Florida in Masschusetts?”, I had to go grocery shopping. Iz and I shopped; she is such a good little shopper. By the time I arrived home, I was exhausted.
When I got home, I noticed that the screen door wasn’t fully shut and the front door was open. Liam, Maine Coon Cat and Escape Artist, can push the screen door open. Once in the kitchen, I saw Nathan on the couch and said, “Nathan, make sure you close the screen door tightly.”
If truth be told, I might have sounded a tad bitchy when I said it. Like I said before, I’m not perfect, and I am not the perfect mother. I was tired, and I think "Other Frustrations" spoke to Nathan instead of "Mom."
Nathan got up from the couch, walked briskly to the front door, and said, “There’s a solution to that. I’ll just close the door!” He slammed the front door. He walked back to the couch and finished eating.
He had never spoken to me like that before. Of course, I didn’t speak to him the way I did very often either. With a sinkful of dishes staring at me, dirty cat boxes lurking in the basement, and a sandy child who needed dinner and a bath, I felt overwhelmed and horrible in that moment.
Nathan is a wonderful kid. Last Friday night, he went to a magic card tournament in Lowell with his friends; it was from midnight to 6am. I know you’re thinking the same thing I did; these kids are vampires, right? (They’re not; some new cards were released at midnight. Hey, we’re all passionate about something, right!)
That night, he texted me about his work hours for the weekend. He also told me where he was going. I gave him the Be Careful and Call Me If You Need Anything parental speech. He said, “Yeah, Dad already told me this. I’m not generally the one who does stupid shit.”
He was right. I had done more “stupid shit” in the last 10 years than Nathan would ever do in his entire lifetime. He had a point!
After Iz was off in bed last night, I sat at my desk pondering my potentially non-existent unemployment benefit, the house that I love and dislike in Nantucket, which is still not for sale, and how I wished I hadn't used the tone I did when speaking to Nathan earlier in the evening. So, I wasn’t really pondering; I was really upset. At that point, Nathan came out of his room; I thought he was heading to the shower.
He asked, “Can I sleep over Ben’s tonight?” I said half-heartedly, “Sure.” I think Nathan sensed my half-heartedness, and he wrapped his arms around me to hug me. I started to cry and said, “I’m so sorry I was short with you tonight. I’m so upset about still not having a job and this house in Nantucket is killing me.”
I had never cried in front of Nathan. Actually, the only time I think Nathan saw me cry was when I told him that his grandfather was going to die. Nathan said, “I’m sorry, too."
He went on to say, "I shouldn't have slammed the door.” And, he didn’t stop hugging me. He just hugged me tighter.
I know the first rule of parenting is not to be “friends” with your child. When I thought about how I let Nathan be sick (when I knew he wasn’t) or picked him up early when he wanted to avoid a boring day at school, I didn’t think I was being his “friend.” I was just being the “gullible” parent, but, shhhh, don’t tell Quinn.
Last night, I realized that the less I feel I have Nathan around, the more I have him present in a more grown-up way. I have a lovely young man. He now realizes that his Mom is not Wonder Woman; she is merely a wonderful yet “crazy” woman who needs his love and support every now and then.
When I was sitting on the couch this morning drinking my coffee and watching “Full House” with Iz, Nathan came into the family room. He was wearing his shorts, had his back pack slung over his shoulder with his cobalt blue laptop peeking out of it, and he was jiggling his car keys while also trying to balance his iPod and his cell phone in his hands. He said, “Mom, I’m leaving now. I have to take Ben to the dentist.”*
*Obviously, both Quinn and I have taken advantage of the personal assistant aspect of the driver’s license. Ben is Nathan’s little brother.
I went to get up to kiss him good-bye; instead, he came over to the couch and gave me a big hug. I asked, “So, when will you be back tomorrow?” He said, “I’ll call you and let you know.”
Earlier in the month, that statement might have bothered me a bit; however, this April vacation week, I didn’t go to Disney World, Atlantis, or math camp. I arrived at a new level of parenthood. Even if the son is gone; he’ll always shine in my life, especially when I need him the most. ♥
A Sure Sign That Spring is Here Note: The lilacs, one of my favorites, are in bloom.
Monty needs the furminator. Get out fur! (Of course, that’s only funny if you say it like Arnold Schwarzenegger!)
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