Mother of a Man-Child

My life with teenage boys

New additions to the family March 30, 2012

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Well we did it. We finally succumbed. I never thought we would, but we are now the proud owners of two rabbits! And like all good decisions, we wonder why we didn’t do it sooner.

Like all youngsters, the men-children always wanted a pet, specifically a puppy, which of course eventually grows into a dog. Like all practical parents, we always resisted having a pet, knowing that we would end up being the ones who walked it, fed it, took it to the vet, etc etc. Also with access to a beach house, we were often away on weekends, and the idea of having to either transport said pet or arrange to have it looked after on weekends or every time we went on holidays just seemed to be more pain than it was worth.

Father of a Man-Child had a dog when he was young, so was definitely pet friendly. The only “pet” we had as kids was the mice we bought home from school and kept in the laundry for a weekend of babysitting. I am sure my mother hated having mice in the house. And if I’m honest, I probably wasn’t the biggest animal fan, most likely as a result of being bitten by a dog and a horse as a child – there’s bound to be psychological scars from that aren’t there?

So it was naturally a surprise for the men-children when Sister of a Man-Child arrived home the other day to tell her brothers she was getting a rabbit! Their first reaction was disbelief, followed by a comment that they never had a pet so how come their sister was allowed to? 16 years old and sibling equality is still an issue. To be honest, it was a surprise to me that we had agreed ourselves. And it wasn’t even a planned decision.

Mini Lop rabbits We had visited friends the night before, whose rabbits had recently had a litter. Now even the most cold-hearted person couldn’t resist being charmed by a litter of five small rabbits – soft balls of fluff hopping around with the owner’s dog protectively herding them. They were too cute. Naturally, 8-year-old Sister of a Man-Child instantly fell in love with them, and wanted to own one. And in talking to our friends, we realised that if you were to own a pet, a rabbit is pretty low maintenance, and also fun to play with, in a way that a fish isn’t! And since the beach house is no longer, and the Men-Child’s sporting commitments seem to dictate our every move, we really don’t go far anyway. Moreover I had already earmarked a neighbour with a young son who I am hoping will just LOVE to feed our rabbits when we go on holidays. 🙂

We are now the proud owners of Hazel and Squeak, two Mini Lop rabbits (a dwarf variety particularly good for smaller children) that have been an instant hit with the family. We decided to get two so they could keep each other company – apparently it makes them healthier and happier (oh and the pet shop richer)! Our daughter adores them, the men-children have also embraced them with open arms, and even we are enjoying them. On their first night we were all so worried that they would get cold outside that the hutch came into the laundry – soft touches! They’re also a hit with any visitors (and future babysitters)!!

Our daughter is learning to care for them, and understanding the responsibility that comes with feeding, exercising and housing a pet. All good lessons for a child. And even though the boys are 16, I know they’re also coming home from school and checking on the rabbits. You’re never too old to love a pet.

One week in and the joy of the new additions to our family remain. Let’s hope the novelty doesn’t wear off, and that Hazel and Squeak have a long, happy and healthy life.

 

Are we breeding spoilt teenagers? March 23, 2012

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Teenagers are an interesting breed.  They can be sweet, pleasant, almost enjoyable at times (especially when they want something from you), and then turn in a nano-second and become horrible, hormonal, angry ants, who lose all rationality, typically when they don’t get what they want.  Sound familiar?  Yep, just like a toddler really.

Just a few weeks ago I recall writing that the boys seemed to be turning a corner…..growing up at last….coming out of the woods!  I think I also mentioned some expected set-backs along the way.  You may now call me Nostradamus!

You see our boys can indeed be very charming, provided they get what they want.  Money, a lift somewhere, money, permission to go to a gathering or have someone stay, money, food and drink supplies on tap.  Just stay clear if you plan on saying no or not giving them what they want when they want it.

Lately we are asking ourselves if we have spoilt the men-children too much?  They wanted their Learner’s licence recently, so Father of a Man-Child was convinced to pick them up from school one lunch time and take them for their test, before returning them to school.  Nice VIP service isn’t it?  The same day, just as I pulled into the driveway from work, we got the call to pick them up from a rowing dinner.  So my dinner waited whilst I played taxi service.   They really don’t want for much, although I don’t think we’re a soft touch very often either.

carHaving just got their Learner’s permit (yes I know, fearful times), they are understandably excited.  We however, are understandably not, and suggested that a few driving lessons might be in order to give them some good grounding before they jump in our cars for their first “test drive”.  The ensuing tantrums would have made a 3-year-old with ADHD proud, except I don’t think a 3-year-old has quite the vocabulary of our charming sons.  “We have been waiting SIXTEEN years to drive a car” stated one.  “We’ve driven cars plenty of times” they both claimed.  Now I know one has experienced a small amount of farm driving, but for the life of me I have no idea when his brother did, which leaves far too much to the imagination.  And a determination to never leave the car keys at home if we’re not.

Strangely enough, they are aghast at the idea of having driving lessons.  They think they’ll learn NOTHING.  Hmmm, any wonder that males under 25 are so well represented in the road accident statistics.   An hour-long argument raged with both boys and their father last night over this.  It was quite frankly ridiculous, and made us even more determined to stand our ground.  We promised to get the lessons organised pronto.  It will make no difference to them getting their licence when they turn 18. They just have to learn to wait a few days – sadly something Gen Y aren’t very good at it seems.  I know one of mine especially has an expectation that if he wants something he can get it instantly.  And let’s face it, with online 24/7 you practically can.  Except driving lessons!

So lovely readers, are we being too mean?   Are we being kill joys, and not sharing in their excitement?  Or are we being sensible parents who care about the safety of our own children (and ourselves for that matter)?

As I write this blog I have however had a sudden flash of brilliance.  We have two very early morning runs to school for rowing in the next two days, giving us two perfect opportunities to let two very eager young hoons loose on the road.  Thankfully it’s a very short distance, and we’ll be lucky to see another car on the road.  That’s just how a very nervous Mother of a Man-Child will like it. 🙂

 

Last week we had the build up to the Learner’s permit:  Beep, Beep, Learner Alert.  And we  have experienced our share of power struggles before:  The Parent-Child Power Struggle.  

 

Beep, Beep. Learner Alert! March 16, 2012

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L PlateThe boys are now 16 as you know.  Which means they can now get their L-Plates, or “Learners”, i.e. a permit to allow them to sit behind the wheel of a car and DRIVE!  Gulp.  I don’t remember being 16 when we got our L-Plates.  Help me friends – weren’t we 17?

Naturally there was enormous pressure to get their L’s on the day of their birthday – but thankfully with Rowing Nationals immediately after their birthday it was just too hard to organise and we just couldn’t get them to Vic Roads.  So it will be next week – a whole two weeks after their birthday (you would think we made them wait TWO YEARS the way one of them carried on).

As you can imagine, I am just thrilled at the prospect of being a passenger with a 16-year-old man-child driving.   One of the boys tells me his mate got his licence and drove the car home straight from Vic Roads – What!!  The same one got all excited about driving us to rowing up at Nagambie in a few weekends.  Not on your Nelly I said.  It’s a two-hour drive, with your grandfather, me and your father in the car, and your brother’s girlfriend.  I don’t think so!  Let’s get a few kms (like more than two) under your belt before we go for the long distance drive.

He rightly predicted that I will be the panic-stricken mother every time one of them drives, and that Father of a Man-Child will be as cool as a cucumber, with complete faith in their driving skills.  To be fair one has done a bit of driving on a friend’s farm – let’s hope he can still remember what he learned.

I assume the reason they now get their L’s at 16 is so they have plenty of time to clock up the mandatory hours before they can get their full probationary licence, a practice I fully endorse.  For the twins, I’ve already enquired to find out about getting their mandatory hours reduced, on the basis there are two of them, and it will take us a long time to get them the hours they require.  It’s quite legit to apply apparently, provided you can demonstrate you have made as much effort as possible to get a lot of hours logged for each of them.

Yes, I know, some of you will be saying why did you let them know about the get-out clause, what a great excuse to keep them “practising” for years!  There is upside and method in my madness – when they have their licence, we can call on them to drive us around – they get the hours now, we get a cheap taxi later.  Bring it on!

So, anyone up for offering them driving lessons? 🙂

The boys started talking about getting their licence six months ago.  Read more here: Men-Children in motor cars – yikes!

 

Happy 16th Birthday Boys! March 9, 2012

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twins

Just over 16 years ago, our darling men-children were born.  Two gorgeous little bundles of joy that had spent 37 weeks in rather cramped quarters it’s fair to say.  Any wonder they sometimes don’t like each other’s company!

I can still remember the day I found out I was having twins.  I was alone at the hospital for the scan, being the typical pragmatist.  Don’t fuss, you go to work (future) Father of a Man-child, I’ll be fine etc.  And of course I was fine, having breezed through the early part of the pregnancy feeling absolutely amazing, not a day of morning sickness, and at 18 weeks no signs of anything unusual.

Back then it was perfectly normal to have your first scan nearly half way through the pregnancy – so you can imagine my shock when they said “The first thing we need to tell you is there’s more than one in there!”  And before my brain could even register what they were saying “It’s twins”!!!  Oh-My-God.  My immediate thought, followed quickly by tears, was of my Mother, who 30 years before me, had learned the exact same news – that she too was to be the mother of twins (yes me and my sister).   Tears because sadly she was not there to share the news, and to swap the countless stories about being pregnant with twins, mothering twins, adoring and loving twins.

I made the call to (future) Father of a Man-Child from the obstetrician’s waiting room, still reeling in shock.  Thankfully he was absolutely thrilled, which helped me recover somewhat.  He thought the idea of getting two at once was “fantastic”.   I then went to work, and shared the news with everyone there.  The irony was not lost on any of them, especially since the day before I had mentioned the forthcoming scan and told them jokingly “all bets are off if there’s more than one in here”!!!!  With the number of twins in our family it’s fair to say it wasn’t a completely unimaginable event, but still a shock nonetheless.

I rang my Father and sisters that night to tell them the news.  I still remember Dad laughing (knowingly) and telling me how wonderful it was of course, and probably also sharing the same sense of deja vu about my mother.  And the call to my twin sister, which went something like this:  “Shit, Shit, oh shit, shit…shit, shit…..(hysterical laughter) shit!”  That was she, not me!

We were blessed with a wonderful pregnancy, a good birth (even though an unexpected C-section), and textbook babies.   They really were amazing from day one – good feeders, sleepers, and eaters, achieving all the milestones every baby should.   As parents, it really was twice the joy (and about 1.5 times the work of one baby for those who are wondering).  As parents we really couldn’t ask for more, except seven years later of course, when our darling daughter arrived as a little surprise package.

So Happy Birthday boys! I can’t believe how quickly the last 16 years have passed.  To watch you both grow into fine young men-children (with a few bumps along the way as this blog reveals) has been a privilege and an honour.

Love Mother of a Man-Child xo

Here’s one of the few stories about our early life with the men-children:  The Holiday from Hell, the only bad one we’ve ever had.

 

 

Hats off to 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.