just like me

I HOPE YOU HAVE A KID JUST LIKE YOU.

anyone else besides me hear that growing up?

i know i wasn't an easy child. there's probably a million and twelve reasons why i was the way i was but i think, for me, it mostly boiled down to never belonging- didn't belong at home, didn't belong to a group of friends, was LOUSY at sports (softball, volleyball, swimming). i wasn't hard core enough for the theater group and wasn't interested in science or math clubs. and, of course, the only thing i REALLY wanted, was to fit in.

it didn't help that i had a mom that didn't know what to do with me or how to talk to me. my first period was me sitting in the bathroom reading the instructions in the tampon box because you just don't talk about things like that. my sex ed talk was...ooops. too late. time to make an obgyn appointment.

my mom started sticking me in counseling somewhere around jr high because i guess it was easier to (have insurance) pay someone to talk to me than try to do it herself.

i HATED counselors. there was the one i refused to talk to because he wore a red plaid shirt and tucked his jeans into his cowboy boots (seriously- you want me to talk about stuff with THAT guy?). there was the SUPER religious lady that didn't talk to me but had me fill out worksheets and packets. there was the gal i *thought* was good until years later when i realized she didn't even know who i was or remember even the most basic things about me (like how i had a baby at 17 and ended up working with her, TRAVELLING TOGETHER, talking to teens about teen pregnancy, and she didn't remember me. awesome.)

my least favorite though was our church youth pastor. he's the one that decided i needed to "...confess my sins (pregnancy) before the whole youth group so they heard it from me instead of the gossip in the school hallways." GREAT. let me admit to getting knocked up to a group of kids who already don't like me. NOT SCARRING AT ALL.

i think my favorite interaction with him was when he asked me: "What do you plan on being when you grow up?" in all my teenage glory i stubbornly answered: "I'M NOT GOING TO GROW UP..." and while he laughed at me, i FINISHED my thought: "...BECAUSE IF GROWING UP MEANS BEING LIKE YOU AND MAKING FUN OF KIDS AND NOT HELPING THEM I WANT NO PART IN IT." and he quickly stopped laughing and shortly thereafter quit "counseling" me and quit being a youth pastor and moved to Iowa and became a computer technician (true story).

i know i wasn't an easy kid. i got kicked out of high school for 30 days my freshman year for "having a weapon on campus." i had been threatened multiple times, IN FRONT OF TEACHERS (thanks alice gintz), in front of other students and had tried telling my parents, but no one listened, and i wasn't going down without a fight. NOT A GREAT DECISION, but what else do you do when people are threatening to kill you every. single. day? the "weapon" was my brother's pocket knife- maybe a 1.5" blade that i had NO IDEA what to do with, just seemed like something was better than nothing. as a result of my spectacular decision, i was shoved into MORE counseling, missed a month of school, was STILL bullied when i got back, and had the additional fun of being called "slash" for the next 3 years.

my junior and senior year i tried out for cheer leading because, according to my brother, "...theater is so LAME. why don't you try doing something less embarrassing?"

well, as small towns go: cheerleaders date football players, and when you date a football player OF COURSE you have sex, and then 9 months later you wonder if freezing your ass off in a skirt that was way too short for three months was worth it because now you're even MORE embarrassing as the little sister that got knocked up.

i was not an easy child.

well, fast forward 17 years and i have a child just. like. me.

on counseling: "real men deal with their own issues and don't need help." it's no plaid shirt and cowboy boots, but maybe he's not as fashion sensitive as i am. although, coming from his pre-teen self, that is a little more along the lines of my spectacular "i'm not going to grow up" (which i still, to this day, stand by).

on first periods: he didn't talk to me about his either. wait...what? he DID talk to me about his first crush, his first kiss, and we used to be able to talk about everything. that's changed in the last few years though.

on making spectacular life altering decisions at 17: well. his decision won't result in poopy diapers, but it sure a full load of shit to deal with.

i have a bit more respect for my mom dealing with me through my teen years now. well, maybe not dealing with me, but for not kicking me out of the house or making things worse when i was challenging. to this day she's still more of an avoider than a dealer. i'm more of a dealer than an avoider. generational changes and whatnot. i put her through grief. there's no question about it. but she helped advocate for me to be able to finish high school, she helped with daycare while i went to the community college, and let me live at home the first 9 months until i was able to get my first apartment.

i have more respect for my son's paternal grandparents now. they watched their son, a junior, end up in a not great situation and stood by him as he struggled a little longer than i did to sort things out. they were patient and supportive of me while he took his time settling into responsibility and to this day are..well..some of the most amazing, big hearted, least judgmental people i know.

and while watching my son struggle to find his way and make hard decisions and make a mess of things is KILLING ME, i can look and see that people before me have made it through difficult teenagers. i can't fix this for him. i can't make it all go away. i made my decisions and had to figure shit out real quick. he'll have to do the same.

i was not an easy child. he comes by it rightly.

but i made it through. and he'll make it through. he is just like me after all. we don't give up easily. 

statistical nightmare

i am a very shallow person.

i care a great deal what people think of me and what labels people attach not only to me, but my kids, our family, our life.

i spend an insane amount of time and money crafting what i want to be perceived as. i work really hard to not look sloppy or lazy when i go to work, the store, sports practices, parent teacher meetings. i work hard to have a nice house- mostly clean, nice furniture, decorated in my quirky personal taste but still pleasant for anyone who visits. i work hard to have a nice life.

and my kids.

good. heavens. there is no limit to what i would do for my kids. i have gone toe to toe with teachers, principals, coaches making sure my kids aren't labeled or treated differently. i've battled my own kids to make sure they know how to behave, how to be polite. i've all but drug them into the shower to make sure they aren't the smelly kid in class. i put extra effort into snack days to make sure we have the "good" snacks. i made sure they had nice clothes (not name brand, but nice, none the less). i've made sure they were able to participate in sports, have friends over. i've sat through so. many. conferences and open houses and band concerts. i've volunteered in the classroom and on field trips. i want my kids to be smart and successful and decent contributing members of society.

i feel like i have, and will forever be battling the stigma and statistics of being a teen mom. i made it a point to go to college with a baby on my hip because he deserved a mom that could provide a good life. i fought so hard to get off public assistance (daycare and food stamps) after college and again after my divorce (housing assistance and food stamps (again)). i fought to leave an abusive marriage because i didn't want that life or example for my kids. i have worked so hard to not be the failure and drain on society that is expected from someone who "had a baby while still a baby."

and yet here i am, 17 years into it, becoming a grim statistic.and it's killing me on so many different levels.

last monday my son was arrested.

my 17 year old kid spent a night in juvy for assaulting his dad. he will appear before a judge in a few weeks and there is the possibility that they will charge him with assault 2 as an adult due to his age (he would probably be 18 by the time it went to a jury) and the severity of the assault. that's a felony.

that's his adult life on the line. that's every college application, every job application. that's strike one on the three strike law.

he's a junior in high school, opting into running start for now. he still has a full year left before he graduates. what would it look like to have a felony before you graduate? how would it impact his education? he is SMART. incredibly smart. he could have any career he wants. but not with a felony on his record.

he is SO ANGRY and mean. he has been for years. that's why he doesn't live with me any more. he has refused help, counseling, reason. he has wallowed in his anger for years letting it get stronger and increasingly mean and violent. he brags about threatening and intimidating kids at school. he thinks vandalism is funny. he took a few swings at me in the past, and now not only took a swing at but connected with his dad resulting in serious injury.

everything i've worked so hard for feels like it's slipping away. and it sounds selfish and petty, but I DON'T WANT TO BE THE TEEN MOM OF A FELON. i don't want us to become another statistic: a single mom with a kid that's "in the system." i don't want to be a failure. i don't want him to be a failure.

i don't know how to help him. he's finally agreed to counseling. whether to avoid jail or to actually get help remains to be seen. i hope, with everything i have, it's to get help and resolve his anger and remove the violence and urge to settle things with his fists. he HAS to learn that he can't act this way. he can't start swinging in a bar. he can't start swinging at a boss. he REALLY can NEVER start swinging at a girlfriend or spouse.

and here's where it gets SUPER shallow and petty:

i don't want to feel like trash but that's all i feel like right now. i feel like i should be living in stained, faded, holey "pink" sweats, a smoke saturated worn out oversized hoodie, stained and worn out uggs (knock off brand of course), living in a trailer park in a trailer that has buckets strategically placed on rainy days, where keeping the lights on or groceries in the cupboard is an either or, not a both. i should be driving a car that you have to start with a screwdriver, have a snot nosed baby stuck in a playpen crying all day long while i finish smoking pack 22 of american spirits while i watch soap operas and yell at husband number 17  to quit scratching his belly button and get a damn job already. AND I KNOW THAT'S SUPER JUDGMENTAL AND STEREOTYPICAL AND MEAN.

i had a date scheduled for last monday before all this happened. i got the call monday night as i was getting ready and decided that since there was nothing i could do across the state, i may as well go ahead with the date. i was on the phone with my brother discussing appearances and charges and what all the legal jibberish means as i sat in the mcdonalds parking lot waiting to go in and meet the poor date guy. i probably should have cancelled, but i didn't want to be a flake. so in i went, and tried to take a quick moment to pull myself together. didn't work so well. i ended up telling poor date guy: "...give me just a second, trying to get in the right head space, didn't want to cancel on you, but just found out my son has been arrested."

GREAT START TO A DATE.

awesome. not only a chick with kids, but a chick with kids IN JAIL. gee, why haven't i heard from him again?

I KNOW. I SHOULD BE MORE WORRIED ABOUT MY KID THAN MY DATING LIFE. I FULLY ADMIT TO BEING A HORRIBLE PERSON.

of course, when it rains, it pours, at the same time all this is happening, the small child decides it's time to test boundaries too. he made a stupid comment in wood shop class, a girl went home and repeated it to her dad, dad went to the superintendent of the school district and wanted to press sexual harassment charges against my son (incident went something like this: they're making wooden c02 cars to race: girl: i know what you're going to use the c02 hole for. my kid: we know what you're going to use your dildo car for."). so my son gets 2 days in-school-intervention and has to change his whole school schedule so he won't have any more classes with the girl. he just got done with a week of lunch detention for being caught in the middle of a fight (that he was trying to break up). he's also failing science.

so one kid in jail, one kid in school detention of one form or another.

SUPER SUCCESSFUL PARENTING MOMENT. frame that fucking snapshot and put it on the fridge.

i am not a bad mom. i am not a bad person. i don't want either of my kids to be delinquents. or felons. or failures. we have some hard days ahead. there will be parent teacher meetings and court appearances and hard decisions and consequences all around. but, in the mean time, please don't think poorly of me. please don't label me the single teen mom statistic. please don't judge us too harshly.