Tag Archives: parenting

Let me tell you about my Mom

Dad didn’t understand why I needed a new dress. He said I already had a perfectly good one that I had only worn once. I tried to explain that I couldn’t wear a prom dress in a beauty pageant, but I could see his eyes glaze over. I had lost him. Thankfully Mom came to the rescue and bought me the dusty rose colored gown that would allow me to blend in to the crowd of big-haired hopefuls in the 1983 Miss EHS contest. Mom understood, just like she did when I absolutely had to have an Op-brand t-shirt for beach day. Dad thought $10 was excessive for a t-shirt. In all fairness, it was (back then). But I explained to Mom that “everyone would be wearing one” and that I would be left out. I wore that red Op shirt for years.


Doesn’t look like much, but it was a big deal back then.

Suffice it to say, Mom understood much more than I gave her credit for when I was growing up. The tougher of the two parents, she was the one holding me accountable when I didn’t do my chores, calling me out on poor decisions and waiting for me when I stumbled home too late from a date. Like most mother-daughter relationships, we had some tricky years when I stubbornly refused her sage advice. Over time, however, we cultivated a more balanced relationship. I would learn my lessons the hard way, as most of us do, while she continued to toss out warnings that I ignored. I began to realize that her actions were based in love. Even today, in my 50’s, she still drops hints that soundly vaguely parental, and she still worries about me. That will never stop, and that is a good thing. It means she cares. If life has shown me anything, it is how difficult parenting can be, and how rare when it is done well. She did it well.


A fave pic of Mom, sassy and savvy.

In the 90’s, Mom and I traveled a bit, taking road trips to Maine (with an accidental excursion to Canada) and New Orleans. She and I share a sense of adventure and learning new things, and I credit her for my open-mindedness, as well as my appreciation for people from all walks of life. I came to realize that I could ask her just about anything (except for technology or sports) and she would have an intelligent answer. She was my Google before Google was invented, and I often find myself telling people who ask me for advice, “I’m not sure about that. Let me call my Mom, and I’ll let you know.” As a retired social worker and avid reader, her grasp of a wide range of topics never ceases to amaze.


Traveling together in the 90’s

One of her many topics of particular expertise has always been money. Dad (like me) tended to err on the side of short-term, low-discipline financial choices, and Mom had to hold the family together. Budgeting, saving, scrimping and investing all became her strengths by necessity. I recall family meetings in the 70’s when we were told we were going to have to hunker down for a bit and cut some corners. I also recall in 2007, she told me that she was pulling all of her retirement money out of the stock market because she was concerned about the relationship between the dollar and the yen. Her financial adviser thought she was crazy, and then everything bottomed out. It was then I realized the full extent of her financial savvy, telling people that if my Mom told me to invest in dog poop, I would sign up on the spot.

While I never did develop her financial skills, I do credit her for my love of reading and passion for service to others. She took us to the library often as kids, leaving us to explore and encouraging us to bring home our prize finds. When a family in need came into her radar, she would send us to our rooms for clothes and toys to donate, and we would ride with her to the home of the recipient family, where we could meet and play with the kids who would later wear our hand-me-downs in their school photos. Those moments stay with me, and I am grateful for the perspective I gained from what was not only insightful parenting, but also leading by example. When I think about the successful parts of my life, and the good things about how I turned out as a person, I know without reservation that the credit for those traits goes to my Mom.

Today my Mom is 80 years old. She still mows her own grass, walks twice a day, makes kind gestures to others and reads voraciously. While the pandemic prohibits us from throwing her a proper birthday party, as evidenced by our socially distant front-yard photo shoot, we look forward to the day when we can celebrate this special day for a smart, caring, savvy, strong Mom. Like always, she understands.



In search of Parent Role Models (Teen years)

The best way to keep children at home is to make the home atmosphere pleasant, and let the air out of the tires. – Dorothy Parker

Watching an episode of House yesterday, I couldn’t help but think that Dr. House has the perfect personality to raise a teenager. He knows the desired outcome and digs in like a snarling bulldog with all teeth locked on tight. House doesn’t care what you think of him, he just knows he has a life to save. With each new symptom, you can see the determination in his face, as if he were talking directly to the illness itself, taunting it: “Bring it on, bitch. This patient is not dying on my watch.”

Kevin’s brother Pix and his wife Kelly remind me of House. Kelly was a tough and tenacious step-mom to Pix’s 3 young boys, who grew up to be responsible, amiable adults. As if that weren’t impressive enough, they then adopted a troubled teen named Amber. They provided the right balance of tough love, structure and support to a kid they’d never even met until they agreed to step in after her grandmother died. You would be blown away to hear stories of what Amber was like in high school. Today she is charming, dynamic and level-headed. I’m fascinated that Pix and Kelly played such a pivotal role in her transformation.

Amber, Brian, John and Jason

Amber, Brian, John and Jason

Pix and Kelly

Pix and Kelly

Unfortunately, I’ve seen parents for whom the road of teen parenting was not nearly as smooth. Some parents suffer enormously to keep their teen in line, and are often forced to resort to special boot camps and therapy programs, only to have the wayward youngster stray into drugs or law trouble after returning home. I cannot begin to imagine the love and fortitude these parents have to muster every day to help their teen become an independent adult. But when they do it, it’s an amazing thing, and I respect every parent that keeps locked on and doesn’t give up.

Not every parent’s teen experience is fraught with intense obstacles, but it is still extraordinary to observe a teen blossom into to a thriving young adult. My sister Lora and brother-in-law Phil had a comparatively easy road with Mary Catherine, who was mature and respectful at an early age. I once asked Lora how she raised such a great teen and she refused to take credit. “She came to us this way.” I think their parenting style had a lot to do with it, though. Lora and Phil are both kind people who expressed clear expectations of their daughter. Their efforts paid off; Mary Catherine is a delightful human being.

Lora, Mary Catherine, Phil

Lora, Mary Catherine, Phil

In terms of parental struggles, our experience with Forrest rests somewhere in between.  Although he is a good kid at heart, he always seems one step away from a bad decision. Over the years, we have been called in to address any number of transgressions, including fighting with other kids (mostly verbally), skipping school, traffic tickets, bad grades, sexting, and smoking cigarettes. Each time I learn of a new issue, it feels like a punch in the stomach. Emotions of concern and disappointment swirl together in a vortex that leaves me feeling overwhelmed. And I’m just the late-entry step-parent. Kevin takes the brunt of the burdens; I really don’t know where he finds his strength.

The fact of the matter is that good parenting is hard work. Telling your teen the word “no” means you are willing to suffer more whining than a dog afraid of thunderstorms. Like House, Kevin is not deterred: he is quick to call teacher-parent meetings or seek advice from school principals. The parents of Forrest’s friends are required to call Kevin, so we can be assured that Forrest is not visiting in an unsupervised home. He mandated that Forrest go to court instead of just paying his traffic ticket fines, so that the young driver could feel the full weight of his mistakes. Kevin is determined that Forrest will experience consequences when he makes errors in judgement: Forrest has had plenty of times when he had to live without his phone or his car or seeing his friends, because he did something to warrant these punishments.

The good news is that Kevin is as quick to praise Forrest as he is to discipline. Kev has an app on his phone so that he knows class grades at all times and is always ready with words of encouragement. He pays for anything Forrest needs for sports or academics, whether it’s a laptop, golf clubs, or tutors. He does it for the same reason all parents make these sacrifices- he wants Forrest to have a solid foundation for a happy life. Kevin didn’t go to college, and hopes more than anything that his son will know opportunities that he did not. Kevin has had to work so hard for his level of success, and his options have been limited. Like any parent with an overflowing love for their sprout, he wants less struggle for the next generation. Kev is the first to admit this dynamic is part of the problem, because Forrest is a bit spoiled as a result of all this focus.

Forrest, Kev, Ang

Forrest, Kev, Ang

Raising a teen boy sometimes feels like dating a person who cheats. You find yourself questioning everything, doubting everything, and always sensing that they’d rather be somewhere else. You don’t want to be the person who looks through another person’s emails or dirty jeans pockets, dreading the worst, but it’s hard to keep the faith. All you can do is be as determined as Dr. House trying to find the obscure illness of his dying patient. You never give up, you’re willing to try anything that has a remote chance of helping that person, and you’re not afraid to be considered an asshole in the process. The end result is just too important.

So thanks to Lora, Phil, Pix, Kelly and our own parents for being good role models. With Kevin watching over him, I have no doubt Forrest will become a remarkable young man- the foundation is already there. I am honored to be a small part of the process. This kid is not going to fail on our watch.

Ladies Man in Training

I met my step-son Forrest when he was 10 years old, and even then he was already showing signs of being a bit girl-crazy. I joked with him about it, saying I was going to buy him a t-shirt that says “Forrest Loves the Ladies”.  Every day he would have a story about a pretty girl who talked to him or punched him (also known as flirting, especially during middle school years). A true ladies man was being born.

By the age of 15 he had his first girlfriend, and I will never forget how Kevin and I “fake chaperoned” his first date at the fair. We pretended to split up in order to meet again later, but we purposely kept a close watch on where they were. When they started holding hands, we were skulking nearby to witness it.

I wasn’t too crazy about that first girlfriend, for numerous reasons I would rather not discuss, but I will mention her rudeness over dinner. I suppose times have changed, but when I was a teenager we tried to impress our boyfriend’s parents, not stare at them with indifference when asked a harmless, small-talk question. She was aloof, gloomy and dismissive.

One thing that has not changed since I was a teenager is the ultimate insignificance of parental opinion. It was better if they liked your sweetie, but if they did not, you didn’t want to hear about it. I am therefore keenly aware that I have to hold my tongue about Forrest’s female friends. He reinforced that message by telling Kevin that I am the “last person he would want to hear spouting relationship advice.” I get that. So my blog is a good outlet for my opinions.

I know I can safely talk here about the young ladies in my step-son’s world because:

  1. I will change names to numbers to protect the innocent
  2. My step-son doesn’t read my blog. If I am honest, very few people do.

My favorite chickie was girlfriend #2, who made the common mistake of being too clingy and scaring Forrest away. He became so panicked by this serious relationship, he has since refused to let anyone claim they are a “girlfriend” at all. Thus my term chickie, which is about as casual as it gets. Chickie #2 was very pretty and presented herself well. In my opinion, her only deficiency was the excessive affection, which is more of a strategy error than a character flaw. Forrest fought horribly with her after the break-up, and neither of them demonstrated maturity for quite some time. Parental intervention forced both parties to act more civil toward one another, which was important because of an overlapping circle of friends.

I never had a chance to meet chickie #3, which was fine with me since she was 2 years younger than Forrest. I’m worried, though, about chickie #4, who has a distinctly different personality from the others. She is abrasive and arrogant, with not much more in the manners department than chickie #1. The worst part about #4 is how Forrest acts around her. She is a bit of an ass, and he acts like one when she is near. It it absolutely torture to watch.

We went out for sushi with them, and it was literally the longest 30 minutes of my life. It was only 30 minutes because I left before the check was even paid. The hateful things the two of them said about other teens, including chickie #2, made me go pale. I know I can’t tell him who he can date, but I certainly don’t have to be around her, and do not intend to- if I can avoid it. All I can do is pray daily that their relationship will be short-lived and that a clean, permanent fracture will end my torment.

When I returned home from that fateful dinner, I knew that the experience was a karmic payment for what my family endured during my 20 years of poor-decision making in relationships. I can recall some painfully awkward moments of guys who loathed spending time with my family, and acted like they were waiting for a root canal. Conversations were forced, dinners were curtailed abruptly.

When I returned from my sushi debacle, I wanted to call every member of my immediate family and apologize. Although I dated some true sweethearts, I know there was a solid decade of bringing home people who were less than charming. My family, true to form, were gracious and kept most of their opinions to themselves, which I appreciate tremendously in hindsight.

Knowing that my family survived my boy-craziness, I tell myself to be cool through my step-son’s girl-craziness. I must try to hold my opinions and let the kid create his own relationship path, which for now appears to be the ladies man path. I just hope he approaches it with grace and respect, and chooses chickies who know how to politely converse over sushi.