To the Rescue

I came across this picture the other day when I was cleaning out my office. My son was about two when this was taken and he had received the fireman’s hat when we went to the local firehouse for an event there. I am not sure where the push toy came from.  I don’t know what it is about kids sometimes, maybe it was just mine, but sometimes they latch onto a new toy or something and won’t let go. It was that way with the hat and the firetruck toy.

My son is grown up now and time has gone by so fast and sometimes I sit back and wonder about the path his life has taken him. It was not my choice, it was his and I have to learn that no matter what he does, I cannot rescue him from everything as I did when he was little. His boo-boos cannot be taken care of by a kiss on the knee and the boo-boo bunny. I have done the best I can and now it is his decision to take what I have taught him and either use it or lose it.

As a parent, one can only control so much. With my son, I think he stopped listening to me as soon as he entered in to the teen years. He also seemed to stop following my advice shortly thereafter. He was always a strong-willed child and like most teens thinks he knows all. However, the tables will turn at some point and I might be the one who needs to be rescued in my advancing years. I just hope he will be there for me.

Valentine's Day Cards

Today I had to get my driver's license picture renewed, and right next to the license center is the dollar store. I figured since I was there, I might as well pick up some things. At the front of the store was the Valentine's section, which of course is put there to remind us folks that the next big holiday is coming up and you better partake of the commercial celebration before you lose your chance. I thought why not. So I picked up some chocolates and then went to the card aisle to get an appropriate card for my husband and son. I had no problem picking out the one for my husband, but my son was another story.

Too bad they don't make cards with the sentiment on it that people really want to get. Something like "Son, you are a total f*&%up, but I still love you, so Happy Valentine's Day." Or perhaps "You're 30 years old. Hope this Valentine's Day you find someone wonderful so you will leave my house, and I don't have to support you any longer." Or how about "Get a job so you can take ME out to dinner. Happy Valentine's Day!" Instead they have cards that make reference to a "Wonderful Son" who is so thoughtful and a joy to be around. Obviously not cards that are marketed toward the parents of a rebellious, hell-raising, teen-aged boy who is currently the bane of my existence, and who is at this moment in time makes me question why I ever had a kid.  I ended up getting him a generic card that had practically no sentiment on it.  I know in my heart that things will get better, but right now I wish he was someone else's kid.

A Mother's Prayer

Here's a poem I wrote recently:

A Mother’s Prayer

What happened to that little boy who used to hold my hand?
What happened to that little boy with face so suntanned?
What happed to that delightful child?
Who laughed and sang and played so wild?

These past few months have been so hard
With the fighting, crying, the doors barred.
Gone are the day with laughing and smiling
Gone are the “I Love You’s” with face beguiling.

These teenaged years are fraught with worry,
And crying eyes, with vision blurry.
Some days it seems I can’t go on
Is the end in sight or is it gone?

I long for calmer days when my son
Was joking around and just plain fun.
It used to be that way, I swear
But now my day is filled with prayer.

They say this time is short; will end
But daily I feel the pain, my friend.
I go to work and come home weary
From worry; my eyes most always teary.

Please God, make him safe and keep him from harm,
Bring back the days full of charm.
Bring back that child I knew, dear Lord,
Older, wiser, impulsiveness ignored.

Take the Devil from out his soul
Provide him the tools to take control.
Allow his youthful eyes to see
The satisfaction of mature responsibility.