by Sarah | Jan 25, 2016 | All About Denver, All of Us, Redefining Perfect, The Teenager
This past week has been a momentous one. Denver turned 18, and got his driver’s license. I am so proud of the man he’s become, but before I extol on the virtues of the man he’s become…I wanted to bring back this oldie but goodie birthday post of the past, nice and loaded with pictures of the younger Denver..because what would a birthday be without a little look back to the past?
Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.
~Ivan Turgeney
Eighteen years ago as I was in labor, I still thought he was a girl. The ultrasound said girl. Everyone said girl.
My dreams said boy.
My morning walk to induce labor I stopped not at the girls clothes rack, but at the tiny little suits, ooh-ing and ahh-ing over the teensy little ties.
After three false labors I was forced to sit in the hotel room my Mom had reserved until I “Finally” stopped screwing around and gave birth already. (For the record, Denver was only 1.5 hours “early” for his due date.) When my contractions were finally 3 minutes apart, my mom called my OB, who then demanded to know why we waited. She, in her dry and sarcastic glory informed him that she wasn’t about to take me in if I wasn’t going to actually have the baby.
And so Denver made me a parent. With his perfectly round head and surprise appendage that made him decidedly NOT a girl, & made me wonder how in hell I was going to raise a boy.
But he was perfect.
The gorgeous blue of his eyes made me fall in love in an instant.
Everything on time. Every milestone reached at JUST the right moment. Every clothing size changing right at it’s declared time (0-3 months? Gone at three months. 3-6? Gone at six…it was eerie).
He was happy. Smart. Playful. Loving.
He was my world.
He was my mom and dad’s world.
The first born grandchild. The first born great-grandchild.
The star.
Our family grew. It changed.
Not always in the best, most fair ways for him.
It never made him less loved.
In many ways, being the parent of a teen is infinitely harder than raising the young ones. He isn’t satisfied with easy answers. He sees the world around him in such a different light. He sees things that a younger child wouldn’t. He understands and absorbs everything. Things that I sometimes haven’t the slightest idea how to explain to him, to clarify.
In his heart – he is a good kid, nay, he’s an excellent adult. He is smart. He is loving.
He is annoyed with his parents. Embarrassed that his mother has a tattoo and plans more. He hates failure. He strives to do his best and no one is harder on him when he fails than himself. Interested in photography. Science. Math. Writing. Cross Country.
He dreams big dreams. Of working at Disney to bring joy to others. Of volunteering at Give Kids the World to spread the love and caring he received at that marvelous place.
He achieves big things. Advancements in Boy Scouts, Junior Honor Society.
He struggles to fit in.
He is 18.
In so many ways.
He is my baby.
In so many ways – he always will be.
Happy birthday to my oldest, my first born.
18 is a big number. But you’re just getting started.
by Sarah | Nov 23, 2015 | All About Denver, Crap, Cystic Fibrosis, Random, Redefining Perfect, Special Needs, The Teenager
For almost two years I thought we’d lost him. He never talked to us, he didn’t care about anything but the (now long gone from his life) girlfriend.
Back then he wanted to be a doctor. Now that dream has been put aside for another, but that’s another post for another time.
Because two days ago this kid came to me with a question.
He asked if there was a way to raise money, because he wanted to do something with his spring break. He didn’t want to go on vacation with his friends, or go party somewhere.
He wants to volunteer at Give Kids the World Village, the magical, wondrous place that provides a second home to kids receiving wishes for Disney World.
Together we are working on finding a way to make this happen.
I don’t know where this kid came from, or rather how we found him again. However, it seems my thoughtful, generous boy has returned into our lives.
I can’t tell you how many times I heard “One day it’ll just click and his head will be screwed on right again.” I honestly never believed it would happen, but it seems to have come true.
So welcome home, son. I hope we can find a way to send you away (for spring break).
by Sarah | Sep 30, 2015 | All About Denver, All About Family, Redefining Perfect, The Teenager
One year ago I’d never thought it possible.
One year go everything was different.
One year ago there was sullen silence.
Moody glares.
Angry yelling.
Intentional disobedience.
Lying.
Ugliness everywhere.
We were mired deep in the land of the teenager.
A teenager with a girlfriend we didn’t like.
A teenager that seemed to be “perfect” for everyone else.
A teenager I no longer knew.
My first born.
My perfect baby.
Turned into someone I couldn’t relate to.
So much has changed in one year.
There is laughter.
There is communication.
The secretive, angry behavior is lessened.
Not everything is perfect.
But one year ago I never would have thought.
I would be sending my boy off to homecoming.
With a new girl.
A girl he told me about on his own (after hinting for a week).
We are working in a better relationship.
A better place.
A day I worried would never arrive.
by Sarah | Jun 11, 2014 | All About Denver, All About Family, All About Me, All of Us, Crap, Random, Redefining Perfect, Special Needs, The Teenager
The past two weeks have been overwhelming.
It’s been one thing after another.
Denver got sick.
My dad’s Parkinson’s has reared its ugly head something fierce.
Denver’s teenage life blew up into all sorts of drama.
Husband had some big decisions to make at work, and the end result was the exact opposite that we’d been hoping for over the past few years.
I think my head might have exploded at one point.
I’ve been short tempered.
I’ve slept too much to cope.
I haven’t eaten enough.
I’ve only eaten crap.
I haven’t written a word.
But I’m still here.
I’m hoping this is the other side of hell week(s).
I’m putting one foot in front of the other.
Trying not to make a sound.
Trying to remember that positive side of me and find that silver lining.
Trying to not reawaken the dragon.
Because life doesn’t wait for you to cross the tight rope.
It keeps going on.
And so will I.
by Sarah | Mar 20, 2014 | All About Denver, All of Us, Redefining Perfect, The Teenager
Gone are the days where the mail was full of bills and interesting items for me.
Paperless billing lessened our mailboxes load.
We don’t get many catalogs anymore.
But these days our mailbox is often full.
With items addressed not to us, but to Denver.
Letters, flyers.
College calling cards.
He’s in 10th grade now.
At school in his college and careers class he filled out something that gave his address and listed the career he was interested in.
Apparently schools don’t pay attention to the career listing, because he’s gotten many from schools that don’t do pre-med.
Still, he gets letter upon letter, flyer upon flyer.
I don’t remember ever getting so many.
My grades were just as good as his.
Are colleges that desperate these days?
by Sarah | Mar 19, 2014 | All About Denver, All About Family, Blogging Life, Pour Your Heart Out, Redefining Perfect, The Teenager
As a baby he was all Mama’s boy. I was a single mom and he was my world.
As he grew, he stayed that way. He listened to my musicals in the car with me.
Everything was shared, no secrets kept.
Over time, and with age, the world began to shift.
Sisters were born.
School got harder.
Life got busier.
He became a pre-teen.
The hugging slipped away.
The talking disappeared.
Sullenness crept in where sunshine had lived.
And then we had a teenager.
Over the past few years, the ever-changing relationship has left me at time joyous, befuddled, angry, and sad.
The need for independence, coupled with the distance already formed, has left some gaps in the relationship.
I don’t understand him, although I try.
He is a sensitive one, like I always was, and I find myself now understanding my dad’s frustration when I was that age.
There are ways Denver is just like me—and ways he is nothing like me.
I don’t know how to parent a teenager. I don’t know how to let go and hold tight. I don’t know how to keep his trust as he tests mine.
Yet, in the frustration and pain, there are moments.
Times we share laughter. Times we have a playful battle of wits (or wills).
There are some subjects we share an enjoyment of (raising a Geek when you’re one helps).
Some days I think I’m losing him and will never get him back.
Some days I worry I didn’t do a good enough job raising him.
But these days, as he’s getting a little older—a little closer to good-bye—we are starting to find that middle ground.
There are times I think he might actually like his parents (heaven forbid).
And so I think there is hope.
Just so long as he knows how proud we are of him (we are, so much).
So long as he knows how smart he is and how much potential he has.
Then I am happy, and think maybe I didn’t do such a bad job in raising him after all.
*
Are you ready for the teen years? I still have two kids to go through, and they’re girls. I don’t think I’m ready for that.
*~*
Written for Things I can’t Say’s Pour Your Heart Out
Time sometimes flies like a bird, sometimes crawls like a snail; but man is happiest when he does not even notice whether it passes swiftly or slowly.
And so Denver made me a parent. With his perfectly round head and surprise appendage that made him decidedly NOT a girl, & made me wonder how in hell I was going to raise a boy.
Our family grew. It changed.
He dreams big dreams. Of working at Disney to bring joy to others. Of volunteering at Give Kids the World to spread the love and caring he received at that marvelous place.
