Mother of a Man-Child

My life with teenage boys

Hats off to the my rowers – they’re amazing! March 2, 2012

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rowersAs most of you would know the boys selected rowing as their summer sport once given the chance.  They begin their rowing “careers” at the end of Year 7, or the start of a season.  So this is their 3rd season now.  To be honest, I haven’t seen much of their rowing, mainly due to other time commitments.  When they first start, it’s mainly training on the river outside their school, getting used to the idiosyncrasies of skulls (boats) and learning the tricks of the trade.  By Year 8/9 they progress to regattas, their first taste of competitive rowing, and by Year 9/10 it’s hit the serious end of rowing (there’s a strong parallel to academic life it has to be said).

The last time I saw the men-children row was a school only mini “regatta” with some short races to show the boys new-found skills off to their proud parents.  Then they were whisked off each week to regattas on the school bus (thankfully) and our task became the early morning taxi service.  Which was just as well, because when you’ve got Sister of a Man-Child with commitments each weekend (sadly full-time working parents have to cram it all in on a Saturday), it becomes difficult for parents to be in two places at once.

For those who don’t know, trust me the rower’s life is not an easy one.  Early morning starts (5.30am to be at school by 6), at least 3 mornings a weeks for the juniors, escalating to more than 7 training sessions a week for the seniors.    In fact the boys training regime this season seemed almost too much in my view – I really thought their coach had become quite obsessed with the boys performance and was potentially pushing them too hard.  They had no rest day, training sessions with some of them throwing up from the effort, and school holiday training regimes that made Biggest Loser camp look like a walk in the park!

Last weekend we finally got the chance to attend a regatta, as it was thankfully in Melbourne and ran into the afternoon (all other commitments with Sister of a Man-child then complete).  Sadly it was also a sweltering 38 degrees in Melbourne, but wild horses weren’t stopping me and my new digital SLR camera from being bank side to watch the boy’s row.  We knew they had actually been performing very well of course, with both boys in the 10A team, but we didn’t realise until we saw them just how good they actually are!

The first row past on the water they were just heading down to the start line for one of their races.  I threw a casual hello (yes, embarrassing mother that I am) but they didn’t even flinch.  Such was the intensity and focus on their rowing I doubt they even saw me and my father standing watching them.  We both commented on our surprise at their absolute concentration, but minutes later as we watched them row, all was revealed.  They are amazingly good.  Their coach has produced an incredibly disciplined, focussed, dedicated, and well-oiled machine of 8 young men, who together have become an unbeatable crew.  Such is their success, they are beating other crews their age by 4 boat lengths, and even beating some Year 11/12 crews.  No wonder the school are sending them to compete in the National Championships in Perth next week.

Father of a Man-Child and me (and the boy’s grandfather) have a new-found respect for the boys, and their coach.  It’s clear he knew exactly how much he could push them, and he has certainly got the results.   Of course success is certainly a brilliant motivator for all.  We were delighted to be on the river that day watching them, and thrilled and proud to have both our boys in the limelight.

It’s not every day you have twin boys rowing together, although it does happen.  The irony of them sitting one behind the other in the boat is not lost on me – no-one watching them would know that they fight and argue at home and sometimes could kill each other, yet are forced to sit so close in a boat! It’s perfect really.  And I have no doubt that looking back they will enjoy the fact they did this particular sport together.

There is one other upside of rowing, apart from keeping them fit.  It’s true what they say – the demands of rowing keep them out of trouble.  They still have a social life, but it’s definitely tempered by their training and regatta commitments.  I know for a fact they seriously curtail their drinking (yes of alcohol) during rowing season – that’s music to a mother’s ears.

I hope the boys enjoy their taste of success – the medal haul is impressive, every regatta brings home yet another, and I hope they enjoy their time together – I’m sure they will look back with fondness on their time spent rowing.

Here are my earlier reflections on the sport of rowing, which was all very foreign to me then.  Row, Row, Row your boat.

 

The Men-Children Really Do Love Me! February 24, 2012

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birthday cardI celebrated a birthday recently.  The best bit about the day wasn’t the presents (which I’d shouted myself anyway), or turning a year older (definitely NOT a highlight), or the warmth of birthday wishes from friends and colleagues (you’ve got to love Facebook for reminding them all don’t you), it was the birthday cards that my family gave me.

  • The always-thoughtful card from Father of a Man-Child.  I swear he missed his calling – he should have worked for Hallmark.  Every card he writes for me (or someone else for that matter) always seems to say just the right thing, injected with genuine warmth and emotion that brings a tear to your eye, and words that cause you to stop and reflect on your life.
  • The gorgeous home-made card from Sister of a Man-Child, whose excitement was palpable, even days before.   “Mum, what’s your favourite colour?  Is it green, and yellow?”.  Of course I told her knowingly.  And on the eve of my birthday, almost bursting with pride: “Can I PLEASE just show you the front cover of your birthday card Mum”.  Patience won!
  • The wonderful card from Man-Child I , “long” by his standards (although he’s an amazing writer, I don’t think he enjoys the very personal stuff much), telling me I’m the best Mum he could have, and thanking me for everything that I do for him.  Perfect!  In a moment you forgive everything of a child when they say this.
  • And last but not least the surprisingly mature card from Man-Child II, talking about his own attitude as he grows up, and the fact that he is enjoying the company of his parents more and more, and doesn’t mind spending time with us.  And of course loves his mother, and all that she is.  This attitude change is a turning point for an adolescent, and really does represent a shift in the parent/child dynamic, an indication that we’re on the way to “coming out the other side” with at least one of the boys.

I know, you’re thinking gee, what will Mother of a Man-Child write about if they turn into nice people?  Don’t worry, they’re still adolescents.  One beautiful card doesn’t mean the trouble is over……

My wonderful day ended as it should with a simple dinner out with our children.  Pizza and pasta provided the perfect opportunity for the boys to carb up ahead of yet another rowing regatta, and Sister of a Man-Child was in gelati heaven, just proving that you don’t need a fancy restaurant to enjoy a night out and the simplest things in life can bring you much happiness.

Here’s to the next birthday – I can’t wait to relive the joy and love I felt on that day in another year’s time.

 

 

High Expectations? February 17, 2012

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salad rollA teenagers needs are pretty basic.  Feed me, clothe me, drive me, fund me, and leave me alone!  Simple really.  Oh and read my mind constantly.

So unfolded a conversation with one of the men-children on Monday morning at 6.30am that is pretty indicative of how “adolescent” they can sometimes be.

The first thing that popped out of his mouth:  “Did you make the sandwiches I asked for?”  Actually he asked his father for a certain variety, not me.  So no, I didn’t make them, because I didn’t know, and by the way he was pretty lucky that a Year 10 boy was still having his sandwiches made for him.  What are we, a tuckshop?  No we’re just parents with boys who are rowers who recognise how important their food requirements are.

“That roll is small!” This immediately followed the last comment.  Oh sorry, it’s only half a baguette, and yes it’s not the same size as the ones I’ve bought previously.  But it’s better than a sandwich isn’t it?  Sorry I bothered I am thinking to myself by now.  See previous point about rowing men-children – it’s all about fuel!

Within 60 seconds, man-child was heard from the laundry:  “Where’s my zoot suit?”.  (For the uninitiated, this is the all-in-one fitted suits that rowers wear – very “gay” when you’re in year 7/8/9 but somehow more “manly” when you’re in year 10.  Go figure.)  Now, since I had VERY KINDLY trawled through both their bedrooms late on Saturday for dirty clothes to wash, only because they were both rowing all day and I felt sorry for them, I knew the zoot suits had indeed made it into the washing machine, onto the line, and into the folded pile of teenage clothes that seems to live permanently in the laundry.  So you can imagine my response – silence! (Actually you could call it fuming, because I was).  He eventually found it, but not before he’d told me that the only one he found was his brothers, not his, and therefore that’s why he couldn’t find a zoot suit.  Yes, they still fight over clothes regularly.  And no they don’t put their names on them to stop said fighting.

It got better.  A minute later we had the same thing over the rowing t-shirt, which he promptly produced for me saying “You didn’t wash my shirt”!  Well no, I clearly didn’t wash your shirt – as any blind man can see because it’s filthy.  It obviously wasn’t on the floor, and so I didn’t pick it up when I was VERY KINDLY looking for 4 weeks of washing on your bedroom floor, you know the floor that the cleaners no longer vacuum because they can’t find the carpet!!  “Well it was in my backpack!”  Oh sorry, I didn’t go through every bag in your room looking for errant dirty clothes.  On another day this would be called an invasion of privacy wouldn’t it?  Clearly ESP and XRAY vision are two skills I need to add to my mother of a man-child collection.

Ah the simple joys of motherhood.  Slavery would have been a better option for some.  I can’t recall the last time they voluntarily thanked us for a nice meal, or for driving them at 5.45am every second day to school for rowing, or to a party, or for washing piles of clothing.  One of the men-children (yes the one above) sees it in very simple terms – well you chose to have children so it’s your job to do all this stuff.  Stop complaining.  I can’t wait to be laughing if and when I’m a grandmother to his children and he tells me how ungrateful they are.  The joys of parenting. :)

I do recall a similar conversation with the other man-child a few years back: Argue this Logic

 

Understanding Women – Tips for Men-Children February 10, 2012

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A (male) colleague sent me some information the other day that I thought was incredibly accurate.  It was called “Nine words women use” and described perfectly nine phrases often used by women and the real meaning behind each phrase (kindly translated for men).  Naturally I sent it to Father of a Man-Child and also several girlfriends.  It wasn’t until my blogging friend Mother Who Works suggested I share this wisdom with the Men-Children that I thought to publish it for the benefit of an even wider group.

So here you are, a rare but useful insight into women, the words they use, and what they really mean!

NINE WORDS WOMEN USE

  1. Fine: This is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to shut up.
  2. Five Minutes: If she is getting dressed, this means half an hour.  Five minutes is only five minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before helping around the house.
  3. Nothing: This is the calm before the storm. This means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with nothing usually end in fine.
  4. Go Ahead: This is a dare, not permission. Don’t Do It!
  5. Loud Sigh: This is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her time standing here and arguing with you about nothing. (Refer back to # 3 for the meaning of nothing.)
  6. That’s Okay: This is one of the most dangerous statements a women can make to a man. That’s okay means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay for your mistake.
  7. Thanks: A woman is thanking you, do not question, or faint. Just say you’re welcome. (I want to add in a clause here – This is true, unless she says ‘Thanks a lot’ – that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say ‘you’re welcome’. That will bring on a ‘whatever’).
  8. Whatever: Is a woman’s way of saying F– YOU!
  9. Don’t worry about it, I’ll do it: Another dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do several times, but is now doing herself. This will later result in a man asking ‘What’s wrong?’ For the woman’s response refer to # 3.

If you find this rings true, feel free to share this wisdom with men and/or men-children you know, to warn them about arguments they can avoid if they remember the terminology.  More than likely they won’t remember it, but like Pavlov’s salivating dogs, they will learn over time what each phrase actually means.

Of course you can also share it with your female friends, who will enjoy a knowing smile, because they recognise just a little bit of themselves in it. :)

 

Back to School!! February 3, 2012

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twins at schoolAs our unusual “summer” enters its final month, the kids this week returned to school.  And we returned to the daily grind of making lunches, 6am rowing starts, music lessons, and countless loads of washing every week – I haven’t missed it I can tell you.  Nor the peak hour traffic that results!  Whilst there was no excitement evident amongst the men-children as they headed back to school, I know they were happy to return and catch up with their mates after a few months off.  And they’re both pretty pumped about a big year of sport in Year 10.  (Let’s hope it’s also a big year of study for both of them!)

It seems every newspaper carries a mandatory image of twins or triplets or even better quads in school uniform, as they head to school for their first prep year.  It reminds me of our own front page photo of the men-children some 10 years ago (that’s it pictured for you) which was pretty exciting at the time, and really is a great moment to have captured for posterity.  I still remember the boys wearing their school uniforms home from the store, such was their thrill at owning one.  And of course the pride I felt whilst blinking back tears as we stood in the prep classroom and launched them on their school journey.  No less joyful was repeating it all 7 years later with our daughter.  They are moments you could relive a thousand times over and each would be as wonderful as the first!

In contrast to the boys, Sister of a Man-Child’s excitement was palpable at entering Year 3.  She even sent me a text message yesterday when she got home “Hay (sic) mum first day of school great.  Thumbs up”, complete with thumbs up images!  Now before you think our 8-year-old daughter has a mobile phone, not quite.  For Christmas she was lucky enough to get an iPod Touch (as a modern-day alternative to the Nintendo DS).  Whilst most people would think she would use it for music, it comes with so many other features she’s barely had the earphones on.  Why would you when it also has countless games free from the App store, a camera better than mine, access to YouTube, and most importantly the ability to text (via iMessage) and use Facetime with other iPhone/iPod users.  The ONLY thing it doesn’t do is make phone calls – seriously.  So when Ruby’s in a wireless environment, she’s practically got her own iPhone.  A “Digital Native” in the making!

emoji imagesShe recently found some friends with iPods or iPhones, and now they’re madly texting each other and doing Facetime.  The only issue is that Ruby doesn’t have her own email address, so she’s using one of mine.  As a result, all her messaging appears automatically on my phone too.  It was fascinating to observe the conversation unfold between three young girls, and see them helping each other text and use Facetime.  And then installing Emoji (an app for texting icons).  Now they seem to send each other hundreds of smiley faces and other images.  Although the other morning I was sitting at work with a stream of messages (complete with sound notifications) going off at my desk which got a little out of hand.  I ended up joining the conversation and asking them to stop, which took a while because we had to convince one of the girls that it really was the “Mother” texting.  Not surprisingly, we have now banned the use of the iPod before school and not until after homework is done in the evenings – like all fun and highly addictive “toys”, good in moderation.

So back to school and back to the routine.  And back to family meals which are a nice change, especially since during the holidays we rarely had both men-children at home for a meal.  No doubt the novelty will wear off quickly!! :)

 

It’s quiet without the Men-Children January 27, 2012

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Australian FlagIt’s been a quiet week on the Man-Child front.  They headed off last week for five nights at a school rowing camp on the Tambo River.  It coincided with the hottest week of our summer so far  – just as well they were on water.  No doubt the next hottest one will be when the kids get back to school next week.  Isn’t that always the way?

I can’t tell you much about it – as is usual you don’t hear from them when they’re away unless you prompt them.  Father of a Man-Child was pretty active with texts and probably got a bit more information out of them.   He wanted to know how they were rowing, and if they were improving their times and winning.  I wanted to know if they were getting sunburnt and wearing hats!  Naturally we were both keen to hear all about it when they came home.

I left an Australia Day BBQ to pick them up on their return, only to drop them off home and head back to the party.  So we only had a quick debrief in the car – they admitted they were stuffed and keen to get home.  They said the camp was good, but hard – the healing blisters on their hands being testament to that!  5.30am starts, 3 rowing sessions a day, typical camp food.   Home to their own beds and a nice home-cooked meal by Mum – what bliss I thought.

By the time we returned from our party the boys were long gone – off to catch up with mates and girlfriends.  So much for tired!!! And so much for wanting a meal….probably hankering after some junk food anyway.   So any good camp stories will have to wait until next week – we should get some out of them over the dinner table tonight.

Sister of a Man-Child thoroughly enjoyed the week without her brothers. It’s probably a nice treat to have Mum and Dad all to yourself.  I expect the main thing she enjoyed was the quietness in the house – no arguing, no fighting, no screaming Mother, and when I bought a packet of hot cross buns they actually lasted the week and not 24 hours (you’ve got to be fast in our place normally).

So a belated Happy Australia Day to all.  We had a wonderful day with friends embracing the true meaning of the public holiday and celebrating our fortune to live in the lucky country.

 

The Parent-Child Power Struggle January 20, 2012

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There comes a point when you realise that it’s a lost cause. That whatever you say will be ignored, and that you are powerless as a parent to control your child anymore. Now in an ideal world, that would be when they are 18 years old, and fair enough too, since legally they are an adult (not necessarily mentally) and you really can’t stop them from doing what they want.

However, as a parent, I have long maintained a couple of principles:

  • Whilst our children are under 18 years old they are our responsibility and really should do what we say
  • Whilst our children live under our roof, they will abide by or at least respect our rules and our house (and it goes without saying respect us), even after they are 18 years old

So how was it that I found myself in the kitchen on Sunday night, with an almost 16-year-old, about to enter into one of the above mentioned no-win conversations? It transpired because after five days away with mates, bringing back a couple of tired men-children from the beach, I stated that Man-Child II was not to ask to go to his girlfriend’s house the minute we got home, as he was clearly tired and in need of a good night’s sleep in his own bed (you may recall he stays at his girlfriend’s house on occasion, against our wishes, as he sleeps in her room apparently)!!!!

No sooner had we walked in the door, than Man-Child II was in my ear.

  • “Hey Mum, I know you said “no”, but can I go to (insert GF’s name) house?”
  • “No you can’t” I tell him. “Don’t go there, we’ve covered this already.”
  • “But Why?” is the response, and the badgering continues for the next 10 minutes in the kitchen, as I’m trying to prepare dinner and get us all unpacked and ready to head to work the next day, whilst Father of a Man-Child is getting Sister of a Man-Child organised.

Now I could swear I had told him in advance that he should not even ask, but what does he do? He not only asks, he nags. And nags, and nags. As he nags, and I hear “But Why” another 10 times, my blood pressure escalates. Now many parents will know this trick, even those of a toddler throwing a tantrum – he’s trying to get me to declare in frustration “Okay, whatever, do what you want”, thereby allowing him to win, hands down, and get his own way. I am determined this will not be the case, so in my absolute frustration do you know what I did? As I was head in the fridge looking for dinner ingredients, I suddenly yanked a full cask of wine out of the fridge and threw it at him (I know, loads of self-control!!).

The cask actually hit him (no harm done) then sadly ricocheted off his arm, hitting the floor and splitting the bladder wide open, emptying the contents under various pieces of furniture. If you’ve never seen a very angry, very frustrated mother, trust me, it’s not a pretty sight. A few swear words later, and some pointed phrases directed at Man-Child II, and I set about cleaning up the mess I had made. Just Fabulous!!!! The rest of the household ducked for cover pretty quickly. Yes I know, it serves me right, but it was not what I needed. And I’m sure the neighbours didn’t really enjoy the entertainment going on next door – but then again????

Do you know what Man-Child II did? He left anyway. He says after Father of a Man-Child and his Man-Child brother had a crack at him (rightly so for causing the fracas), he’d had enough and so felt it was quite acceptable to leave the house (that’s teenage post-rationalisation for you isn’t it?). A pointed exchange via mobile phone then ensued, with multiple threats made by me and then by Father of a Man-Child. Thereafter, I didn’t speak to him for two days (he didn’t come home anyway) and he was seriously in our bad books. Eventually, we insisted he return home, and I did manage to extract a rather pathetic apology from him.

Father of a Man-Child and I have since agreed he needs a good talking to, so he understands that this approach to running his own life at his age is not acceptable, and not going to work while he lives in our house. My view is simple: if he wants to run his own life, he can leave school, get a job, move out, and then do what he wants. Now that would be interesting wouldn’t it?

I spoke to another parent just recently, who experienced similar challenges with his teenage son. He’s just coming out the other side now, but he said it’s been damn hard, and he provided some valuable tips about how to deal with these situations to avoid the instant blow-ups. Of course, avoiding the instant blow-ups might be easier if Mother of a Man-Child didn’t have such a fiery Irish temper…..will need to work on that clearly.

If you’re wondering why I am sharing this story with you, rather than avoid the embarrassment, I guess I thought you should know that I am really just a normal mother, with normal children, who is a long way from perfect, and feels much better admitting that it probably wasn’t the best behaviour on my part, and no doubt I’ll be laughing about it one day soon.

 

Post-Script to Home Alone January 13, 2012

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beersOkay, I admit it.  Perhaps the men-children are more mature than I thought?  After leaving them at home alone last weekend, unsupervised for 48 hours, it appears that nothing untoward took place, and our house remains unscathed.  Maybe, just maybe, the boys can be trusted more than I have given them credit for?  Then again, maybe they just know that the price of failing our trust test was just too great, so they chose to toe the line?

Father of a Man-Child made the decision to tell one of the boys of our absence mid afternoon on Friday.  He said we were away Friday night and POSSIBLY Saturday night but we weren’t sure (sneaky I know).  In a twist of fortune quite frankly, his brother didn’t know until about 6pm when we were well on our way to our destination, and far too late for him to organise anything significant. :)

Father of a Man-Child also left strict written instructions for them (then they can’t say they didn’t understand what you said can they?):

  • No sleep overs allowed with no parents present
  • No gatherings of more than 5 people (read per man-child)
  • No alcohol permitted with no parents present
  • Curfew of 12.30am for all friends to leave our home

We sent a couple of text messages, just to establish their movements on Friday night – both home, alone, very boring indeed.  On Saturday afternoon, a casual text arrives from one of the boys:  “Are you coming back tonight?” instantly sending one’s imagination into overdrive as you would expect.

We discussed the response options open to us:

  • Yep, we’ll be home later today (thereby killing any party plans, whether or not we actually planned to arrive home)
  • Not sure, we’ll let you know later (ditto above)
  • Why, are you planning something you shouldn’t be? (like he would tell us)
  • No, we are staying another night.  We could bullshit you but instead we are trusting you.  Don’t let us down (that was my actual response)!!

So, we decided to trust them, and we decided to let them have some fun.  We actually rang them late on Saturday night (yep, mid party) to speak to both of them.  One had a few mates over, and one had his usual “harem” of girls over (including his girlfriend of course).  It all sounded under control, with no slurring of their words evident, so at least we didn’t need to panic.  Whilst we had requested that they have no sleepovers in our absence, we also confirmed with both of them that they were indeed having a couple of mates to stay – yep, totally inconsistent, but how exactly were we planning on enforcing it from 3 hours away?  At least that way we knew what was happening.

We arrived home to a relatively normal house.  No signs of it being cleaned to within an inch of it’s life, no breakages, no empties lying about, nothing really out of the ordinary.  Father of a Man-Child says he found a few “rollie” stubs in the backyard – and promptly threw out the evidence before I could do the smell test!!!  He thinks they were smoking tobacco – I am not quite so sure….

Our neighbour dropped by and actually complemented the boys on being well behaved in our absence.  As a father (survivor) of two boys who are both now past their teens, I found that very comforting indeed.

So there you have it.  I know it’s not very exciting blog material is it?  It would make for a much better read if there was a scandalous story about some wild party at our house, with major mishaps thrown in for good measure.  But then again, it’s also a refreshing change, and a sign that perhaps my little darlings are coming of age, slowly but surely, and that there is a small but visible light glowing at the end of the adolescent tunnel. :)

In case you missed the pre-cursor to this story, you can read it here:  Men-Children alone in the house for a weekend 

 

Men-Children alone in the house for a weekend? January 6, 2012

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Happy New Year to all my readers.  I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas.  Well the Griswold Family have just returned from a great short holiday in Sydney.  We did all the tourist icons with the kids – Harbour Bridge, Opera House, The Rocks, Darling Harbour, Westfield Eye Tower, Bondi Beach, Manly Beach and Luna Park amongst others.  There’s no doubt being a tourist is hard work – it’s quite an exhausting holiday, but satisfying nevertheless.

Highlights for the Men-Children included doing the bridge climb (highly recommended) and jet-boating on the harbour, and for Sister of a Man-Child it was a photo with Maxy, one of the famous Bondi Rescue surf life savers, Luna Park, and seeing the NYE fireworks over the Harbour Bridge.  Much to the boys’ disappointment their plans for NYE didn’t quite work out as they hoped (they tried trust me), so they spent the night with us and our friends.  It wasn’t all bad as we were harbour-side to watch the Sydney fireworks and it’s not every year you get the chance to do that.  And we did buy them some alcohol so they could share in the festivities (Jim Beam & Cola being their drink of choice – Yuk!).  I have no doubt that will be the last NYE they will ever spend with us – and eventually just like us they will realise it’s a highly over rated night.

Having returned home, we’re all still in holiday mode and planning further escapes during January.  They boys have invitations to go beach-side with friends, and more sport camps so that should keep them occupied until school returns.  When an opportunity came up for a couple of weekends away with Sister of a Man-Child we both jumped at it.  One of the weekends was cleverly co-ordinated to coincide with the boys’ absence.  However, only at the last minute did we realise that heading away this weekend meant leaving the boys home alone.  And we hadn’t really thought about organising an alternative.

A couple of thoughts sprang to mind about how we might approach our absence:

  • Don’t tell them until the last minute, so they can’t plan anything.  (Or maybe don’t mention it at all and see if they call us to find out where we are – a bit of role reversal?)
  • Tell the neighbours to keep an eye on them and let us know if an impromptu party of 200 teenagers eventuates.
  • Threaten death if anything happens to the house.
  • Tell them we’ll be home on Saturday night (when it’s really Sunday night).
  • Ask the aunties to do drive-bys (do you think every hour is overkill?)
  • Panic!

The latter happened when I chatted to my twin sister and we both recalled the first time our parents left us at home for a weekend and “trusted us to do the right thing”.  Well, you can guess what happened can’t you?  Within 2 minutes of them leaving the house, we were on the phone to our mates organising a party.  And a great party it was, followed naturally by us cleaning the house to within an inch of its life.  A sure giveaway don’t you think?

Of course we got sprung – nothing to do with the stench of smoke and alcohol that I am sure permeated the entire house, or the motorbike divets left on the front lawn by someone’s boyfriend (I seem to recall his name was “Moose”).  My father (“hawk-eye”) wondered who had moved the fridge?  For God’s sake, who would have thought?  Naturally it wasn’t something we noticed was it? We blamed Moose – a mammoth of a man, and the only one big enough to do it!   I can’t recall the exact punishment metered out for this particular crime; there were quite a few over our teenage years.  We were probably grounded for a year or two, or perhaps it was the time when our invitation to go skiing with the neighbours to babysit their daughter was declined, much to our immense disappointment (and just quietly to our parents relief I suspect).

So as I post this, we will be on the road to our weekend away, and the boys will be “free” for the weekend.   If you should happen to see anything on Facebook about a party at our place, please let me know urgently (they’re not my friends on FB remember). :)

 

Mother of a Man-Child’s Top 10 Posts December 23, 2011

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 5:00 pm
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As I post this week, I am celebrating a small milestone – 100 posts by Mother of a Man-Child.  Every Friday, for almost two years now, I have shared a little story about our life with the Men-Children (and not to be forgotten Sister of a Man-Child).

It all began with this story (All In Good Taste), which was really the inspiration for my blog in the first place.  I was so outraged at the behaviour of my teenage son, and no doubt the lack of control that I was facing, that it suddenly occurred to me to write about my experience, in order to vent my frustration, and for my own amusement.

I have had almost 6,000 views of my blog in that time, from a small but growing audience.  I have rarely been short of material, thanks solely to the Men-Children who are a constant source of inspiration for my writing.  I have also thoroughly enjoyed the comments from you, my readers, and the regular feedback.  It’s always nice to know people enjoy reading my stories. :)

To celebrate my little milestone, here’s 10 of my favourite posts.  The ones that caught my eye as I recalled what we’ve endured and/or survived over the last two years.  As it’s Christmas and we’re off on another Griswald Family Holiday, I’ll be having a short break from Mother of a Man-Child, but I’ll return early in 2012, no doubt with some more news of the Men-Children’s adventures from our next holiday!  Enjoy.

  1. Argue this logic (boys are NOT on the same wave-length as their Mother)
  2. Uninvited guests after midnight (what happens when you find four strange girls in your home at 3am)
  3. An arresting story (a close call for a shop-lifting man-child)
  4. The self-tattooing trend (sometimes teenagers are idiots)
  5. New Years Eve at Portsea (like Mother like Son, the attraction remains)
  6. A Princess Tale (a story about Sister of a Man-Child, in sharp contrast to the Men-Children)
  7. Sleeping over at a GIRL’S house (at 14 not my ideal scenario)
  8. Freezing on Cadet camp (a lesson learned for our stubborn man-child)
  9. Plains, Trains and Automobiles (what happens when your man-child is stuck in Adelaide for a week)
  10. Drug and Alcohol Education (our first experience with a dope-smoking son)

As always, feel free to share my posts with friends or relatives (or a publisher if you know one!).

Wishing you all a safe and happy Christmas and a wonderful start to 2012.

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