Mother of a Man-Child

My life with teenage boys

Christmas is coming! November 30, 2012

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The joy of Christmas is less than a month away and so preparations have begun in earnest in our household.  As Sister of a Man-Child is still a firm believer (yes at 9 years old) it just adds to the excitement and delight of Christmas.

As the retailers filled their stores with Christmas decorations, and the TV advertising cranked up, my daughter had all the reminders she needed about this magical event.  First stop the Christmas tree – she begged me to put it up last weekend, which we did, but not until the end of Sunday due to other commitments.  We did have to endure quite a few sulking moments along the way, but as I said to her, I refuse to be rushed doing the annual Christmas tree decoration.

So here is our very eclectic Christmas tree.  Yes years ago I had the “designer” Christmas tree, with every last bow (or whatever was in fashion at the time) placed just so, completely colour co-ordinated, not a branch out of place.  As the men-children came along, so too did the home-made decorations, which were proudly added to the tree or used as centrepieces for the table (it’s amazing how good a couple of wreaths made from dried pasta and spray painted gold looked).

Now it is my daughter’s home made decorations that grace the tree, along with a special collection of ornaments, including Father of a Man-Child’s childhood decorations (rescued from the beach house), and personalised, named baubles of family members.  Having some history on the tree only adds to the sense of family and tradition that we so love.

The other thing we lap up of course is the joy of a child that still believes in Santa (even the men-children enjoy it).  I love the unwavering belief and innocence of children every Christmas and Easter.  She is so excited, she asked if she could sleep on the couch on Christmas Eve so she could see him!

After the tree all attention turned to her letter to Santa.  It is so gorgeous I have republished it for you to read here (just click on this link): Letter to Santa.  I was especially pleased she mentioned both Jesus as well as a gift for her rabbits.  I intend to keep a copy for her, to give to her one day, along with the countless letters to the tooth fairy of course!! 

Anticipation is also growing for her video from Santa.  Last year she received a video from the North Pole, with Santa talking directly to her by name, and amazingly talking about the EXACT present she wanted.  HOW did he know her name, or what she wanted?  I mean, he MUST be real! 🙂  Santa is so clever he even arranged to send her a video for her birthday recently to say he knew she’d been pretty good so far this year.

Amidst all the excitement there is however stress.  One thing tops her Christmas list, a Fijit Friend (don’t worry I had never heard of one either), which just happens to be the Toy of the Year in Australia.  What that means for any Mrs Santa Claus’s out there is that there is now widespread panic-buying across Melbourne and Australia, and every Fijit is about to be completely sold out before the end of November!!!!!  Santa doesn’t explain on video what happens if his elves can’t make enough of the ridiculously popular (and ridiculously expensive) toy.  But I have managed to secure one!  PS.  If you want to know what they are, take a look here:  Fijit Friends

So how is Christmas stacking up in your house?  What wonderful things do your children do to prepare for the visit from the great man?  And how long did they believe for?

You can read more about the tooth fairy here, and also what happened when we finally broke the news to the men-children about Santa. A Princess Tale.

 

Schoolies Week! November 23, 2012

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schooliesSchool’s out for the VCE students of 2012 and this week is the beginning of “schoolies”.  For those who are not aware of this Aussie tradition, “schoolies” involves thousands of excited Year 12/VCE students who have just finished their final exams, travelling to selected destinations en masse for a couple of weeks of partying and celebrations.

Sadly as this post was being written news had been released of the tragic death on the Gold Coast of a 17-year-old girl falling from her balcony – most certainly every parents worst nightmare, and a shocking end for some schoolies to their celebrations.

Wikipedia has a comprehensive entry on schoolies week, including the history – did you know it actually started on the Gold Coast in QLD in 1979?  It certainly wasn’t an Australia-wide trend when I finished school in 1982, although I imagine we would have loved the idea (alas my parents probably wouldn’t have).  Wikipedia also provides further useful information:  “Toolies” refers to older revelers who participate in Schoolies week but are not high-school graduates. “Foolies” or “pre-schoolies” refers to younger adolescents, who participate in Schoolies week but have not yet graduated from high school.

There are a couple of key destinations for schoolies, including Byron Bay, the Gold Coast, and of course Bali.  My men-children were chatting with a family friend just recently, who was heading off to Byron Bay for 10 days of partying.  I commented that only one of my boys would attend schoolies in two years time, as his twin brother, set to leave school at the end of this year, won’t actually be “graduating” with all his current friends.  Oh no he assured me, he would be at “schoolies” with all his mates regardless, making him a “Clayton’s schoolie” me thinks?

I learnt during this conversation that they will need to be booking accommodation as early as mid next year for schoolies, yes that’s right, a full 18 months ahead of the end of their VCE.  The dilemma of course will be selecting the destination, agreeing who you will stay with, and I suppose hoping you are still friends by the time the holiday comes around.

I can’t help but wonder if our “tradie” man-child will have outgrown some of his school friends by then, and if he’s working full time as an apprentice not be the slightest bit interested in schoolies?  One thing is for sure, if they both want to go to any Australian destination, I will be agreeing (although I would prefer if it’s not in a high rise apartment on the GC for obvious reasons).  The alternative (mainly Bali) does not impress me due to the open trade in drugs and inherent danger, and quite frankly I would rather they weren’t over there.  Of course, as the men-children will be 18 years of age by then, I won’t be able to stop them, but the early booking might just work in our favour and I have no intention of reminding them of their impending legal age and associated rights.

As it happened, I travelled to the Gold Coast this week for business (please note NOT as a “toolie”), and was interested to hear what the locals had to say about the influx of some 18,000 reported students to the Gold Coast area.  I learned from the local news about the behaviour of some idiots – yes the media just LOVE to highlight the stupidity and drunken pranks of teenagers.  But I also learned that there is zero tolerance of bad behaviour, with evictions of schoolies if necessary from their accommodation (no second chances) and very controlled party environments.  One taxi driver (a veritable wealth of knowledge) said most of the GC residents who are anywhere near the middle of Surfers Paradise evacuate for the entire period (much like the Grand Prix in Melbourne for some residents).  He also figured the government was more than happy to entertain schoolies, as it’s a huge injection of cash for the economy (definitely “liquid” gold).  Another taxi driver said he’d had quite a few schoolies as passengers and they were just great young Aussie kids having fun.  He did also admit that he only drives his taxi during the day so no doubt he sees the best side of them!!!

I also heard quite a lot of discussion on the radio this week also about whether parents would allow their kids to go to schoolies.  Not surprisingly, there was the full spectrum of views and attitudes amongst parents, from controlling gate-keepers to trusting (naive?) parents.  With the men-children, I am probably less concerned about them going away than I would be if it was my daughter.  For some reason, I feel that girls are far more vulnerable than boys in these situations, especially if you read about some of the “toolies” preying on young girls.  I also know you can’t wrap your kids in cotton wool forever (especially once an adult) so all you can do is your best to teach them not to be too stupid in these environments.  As we know from recent news, even young footballers in their 20’s can still do very stupid things and have fatal accidents.

So what do you think of schoolies?  Did you attend celebrations when you left school?  Would you let your kids go, in Australia, or Bali? Certainly the tragic death of a young schoolie will have other parents questioning whether they should let their kids go at all, and protect their children from possible harm and even worse accidental death.  There are no winners in this situation.

If you’d like to read the full reference:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schoolies_week

 

A step back in time November 16, 2012

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typewriterThis week for no particular reason other than the boys didn’t provide me with anything really inspiring to write about (a rare event indeed), I decided to share a few of my favourite posts.

Here’s my latest Ten Good Reads for you to enjoy:

  1. The Holiday from Hell – a ruined holiday with toddler twin boys
  2. Hygiene – over-rated by teenage boys
  3. Calm Down – two words no angry mother wants to hear
  4. Sage Advice – learn from an experienced teacher
  5. Too late – pushing the boundaries always
  6. Trouble on school camp – there’s always one isn’t there?
  7. Hurdy Gurdy – a family heirloom in our backyard
  8. Nice to be wanted – thank goodness for Sister of a Man-Child
  9. Testosterone – naturally my boys have loads
  10. Mother’s day musings – a good time to reflect

Enjoy them, share them, and let me know your thoughts.  It always makes me feel more normal when I hear from my readers.

 

 

The birds and the bees November 9, 2012

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baby Sometimes an opportunity just presents itself for the birds and the bees conversation, and before you know it you’re halfway in and there is no stopping.  Suffice to say Sister of a Man-Child is now a little wiser than she was a week ago about Mother Nature and babies!

We were heading back from a long weekend away, listening to the radio, and they were chatting to callers about being pregnant and not knowing it.  Even our 9-year-old daughter could understand that it was a bit odd.  “Mum surely someone would know if they were having a baby wouldn’t they?”  And the average person would agree, yes surely you would know you were having a baby.  And if you listened to one caller, you would still not believe her story that she didn’t know until she delivered the baby that she was pregnant!!!!  Personally, I am really not sure how a 9 month pregnant women could not think she was having a baby – regardless of what the doctors said about not being pregnant – either that or you would be seeing an oncologist about a massive growth in your stomach.

But I digress.  As we drove home in the quiet of the car, I had a split second flash back to 9 years ago, and then out of my mouth popped my response: “Well not necessarily actually.  Because it happened to me when we were having you”.   And so the story about our daughter’s small beginnings unfolded.  From the discovery at 16 weeks that I was pregnant, to her amazing arrival at 41 weeks into the world.  She was keen to know if she was planned, or an accident.  I told her emphatically she was very much planned and wanted, but that it was a bit of a surprise to learn I was pregnant.

For readers who themselves are itching to know how someone who had already had twins could not know she was pregnant, here’s a small list of reasons:

  • No morning sickness (yes I am someone who breezes through pregnancies without any problems at all, no queasiness, no sore body parts)
  • A body whose menstrual clock was so out of kilter, I was convinced that I could not possibly be pregnant
  • An earlier diagnosis of potential early menopause and a single functioning ovary
  • And the firm belief that it would almost border on an immaculate conception!!!

Suffice to say I was indeed pretty shocked to be sitting in the doctor’s rooms to discuss my ongoing concerns about feeling “bloated”, having also been to the naturopath for some assistance, when she passed me the pregnancy test results – positive!!!!  Fortunately the 6-year-old twin boys in the room were too pre-occupied to notice my shock and our subsequent discussions.   Although they did notice that I became a bit vague for the rest of the day, walking up the same supermarket aisle several times and getting lost on the way to a good friend’s house.  Yes you could say I spent the day in absolute shock.  I didn’t ring Father of a Man-Child in case he had a car accident when I told him, so waited until I saw him later that day.  Our initial shock was mixed with absolute delight and then temporary panic, as the threat of twins was very high given my family history and an existing set.

Fortunately the scan revealed only one healthy baby (and the fact that I was 16 WEEKS PREGNANT), and the subsequent amniocentesis test (not a pleasant prospect but a necessary evil under the circumstances) revealed a girl – much to all of our delight.  Suffice to say it was a lovely (and short) pregnancy, enjoyed by me, hubby and the boys, and the excitement around the arrival of a baby sister was lovely for the men-children and family and friends.

Sister of a Man-Child then asked me how soon can girls get pregnant, which of course led us further down the birds and bees discussion, to talk of eggs and periods and when it would all happen.  As she is 9 years old and some girls unfortunately now start menstruating by 10 years old (far too early in my book) the timing is probably pretty good.   I explained that sometime between 10 and 14 she would indeed be producing eggs, but that didn’t mean she would get pregnant.  And I also explained that no you couldn’t get pregnant just lying in a bed with a boy (she did ask), but that when she had a partner, and they planned it, they would hopefully get pregnant when they wanted! 🙂

She also asked about how old you could be which is interesting, given some of my friends have had babies in their mid-late 40’s.  I explained that was possible, but also told her about eggs ageing and that physiologically you were better to have them a bit earlier if you could.  It’s amazing sometimes how they see the world, and how they manage to piece it all together.

So there you have it, the story of Sister of a Man-Child’s beginnings.   We have always said she was a Gift from God under the circumstances (but then really every child is), and most definitely a planned and longed for daughter and sister, not a “happy accident”!   Does the distinction matter?  Maybe not to some, but I think to my daughter she somehow wanted to know as we drove in the car and heard amazing stories from other women, that she wasn’t an “accident”. 🙂

I have written about Sister of a Man-Child before:  A Princess Tale.  She is such a delight!

 

The Stunted Mullet – A short tale November 2, 2012

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As the men-children get older, it becomes increasingly challenging to have them abide by our rules.  Threats coupled with parental anger are typically the winning combination, and this occasion proved to be no different.

I arrived home the other night and was immediately prompted to notice the new haircut of my son (Man-Child II).  He was sporting a very short haircut, one I call the skin-head/army reserve look, not that concerning really, as he always likes his hair short, and it does grow back pretty quickly. His twin brother (Man-Child I) then prompted me to take a closer look at the back of his head, to see the rest of the haircut.  Yes, causing trouble for his twin brother, naturally.

My first thought was that he had shaved something into his head.  I asked him if it was a swastika – since he didn’t even know what that was, unlikely that’s what I was about to see.  Instead, what I saw is this – which I quickly dubbed the “stunted mullet”.

mullet hairstyleThere is no point asking why they want a haircut like this – they’re teenagers, it’s what they do.  Setting new trends (?), looking like their peers (yes his mate has one too), not looking like their parents – it’s natural.  However, that doesn’t mean that our son should keep it!

Our immediate response was that he would have to shave it off that night, before attending school the next day.  Apart from us thinking he looked like a complete “bogan”, we didn’t think it was an appropriate haircut for school.  Naturally, there were two arguments that ran in tandem that night, that went something like this:

Man-Child:

  • There are far more outrageous haircuts sported by other boys at school. (I am sure their parents are very proud).
  • What does it matter – it’s not hurting anyone. (Except your parents and twin-brother).
  • It’s better than a tattoo or eyebrow piercing.  (Yes it is for the moment).
  • It will grow back.  (Logic fail, as the mullet will just grow too).

Parents:

  • It’s disrespectful towards the school.
  • It’s disrespectful towards your parents.
  • It’s disrespectful towards your grandfather who attended the same school and would be mortified to see you with this haircut.
  • Whilst you live in our house, under this roof, you will abide by our rules.
  • You look like a complete Bogan.

In the end, the final threat was that we would contact the school tomorrow and have them march him off the grounds to get a haircut if he didn’t remove it.  Whilst this might sound extreme, the school have been known to do that before with boys who have particularly inappropriate haircuts.  One of them being Man-Child II’s mate sometime last year.  They cut his hair at our home one afternoon, much to the amusement of Sister of a Man-Child and her friends.  It was basically shaved down one side, and left long on the other – NICE!  Clearly his mother had no luck convincing him to cut it, but the school certainly did the next day. 🙂

The last appeal to him was a text message (they can be effective sometimes, as they give them something to think about and don’t involve yelling), which went like this:

“Please remove that mullet tonight.  Don’t make us involve the school.  “What does it matter?” applies equally in reverse BTW.  If it’s such a small think but important to us that it goes, then you will remove it.  If you choose not to then the same lack of respect you choose to extend to us will be returned ten-fold to you.”  Thankfully he agreed to do it, the next day!

So off he went to school, sporting the stunted mullet for the day, returning home that evening to shave it off.  I must ask what his friends thought of it, or if any teachers noticed.

So a minor victory to the parents – this time.  Once he leaves school at the end of the year, we are clearly in trouble.  I fear the stunted mullet will be right at home at TAFE – oh well, I suppose I can live with it, if it means the eyebrow piercing and tattoo are delayed for a while longer.

We have endured the joys of teenage hairstyles before.  They seemed to have a liking for rats tails for a short period!!  Read more here.

 

Committed to their causes October 26, 2012

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It’s not often I wax lyrical about the men-children (it doesn’t make for the usual amusing reading) but from time to time, to be fair to my subjects, it is worth recognising their achievements and acknowledging that where there is ambition and commitment there can also be success.

Two cases in point. As many would know, one of our men-children has indeed made the decision to leave school (with our support), and head to TAFE to undertake a trade course and an apprenticeship. We were naturally delighted that he conducted himself well at the interview and was successful in gaining entry to the course of his choice. He is looking forward to next year, and to focussing on something he really wants to do, with a clear end goal in mind. He is already talking about the opportunity to work on building sites during the course and get valuable experience on the job. I admire his passion and hope it translates into dedication and success.

As we rightly pointed out however, don’t lose focus on finishing year 10 this year, because without it you can’t continue onto the course. Such is the life of parents, why is it we always seem to dampen enthusiasm! Having recently seen the drop out rates for trade apprentices I was momentarily alarmed. However something tells me our man-child will thrive at TAFE and find success in his chosen career.

Our other man-child will of course remain at school, with plans to head to university eventually. As an aside, yes you are right to realise our twin boys are very different, both in personality and aptitude at certain tasks. Hence one is happy to remain at school and most likely head into a business course, and one is off to trade school so he can work outdoors.

blistersNaturally, in remaining at school, one son is continuing rowing, something which they both excelled in last year. Of course this season, it’s a whole new level of intensity, as it’s “open squad” for Year 11 and 12 boys, and now very, very serious. So whilst we thought last year’s training schedule was demanding, this year’s is incredible. Two early mornings a week, two afternoons a week, lunchtime gym sessions 5 days a week, and a 50km row on a Saturday up the Maribyrnong River (and that’s their light training program)! As you can see, the blisters on his hands are just starting to heal, and the skin harden, as they do at the start of each season. Apparently his hands look good compared to some of his friends!

My son knows what he wants to achieve and is working hard to get it. Each seat in the skull is highly prized and sought after. He has his sights set on rowing in the “seconds” this season and hopefully sharing in the ultimate prize of a spot in the “firsts” the following one. With determination and continued development we hope he achieves his goals. But we are already proud of him!

I do take my hats off to the boys that pursue rowing at this level. The demands are enormous, physically and mentally, and totally time-consuming. It impacts their working life (you can almost forget a casual job), their social life (good news is they forego alcohol), and their school life (reduced time for homework) and eats into their holidays with camps and more personal training. In doing so, it also teaches them the importance of the commitment that is required to pursue sport at a high level, and the sacrifices elite sports people make on a regular basis.

So as we head into the end of the school year (and for one his “school” life), we watch our men-children continue to grow, like butterflies emerging from a chrysalis, having left behind their life as hungry little caterpillars. We know they will both be beautiful butterflies in due course, we just don’t know what colour they will be, and what direction they will fly in. All part of the excitement (and worry and stress for parents) of our children growing up. 🙂

I have written about their rowing before: Rowing when they first started out (Row, Row, Row you boat), and their success last year (Hats off to my rowers)

 

No room for Mums….. October 19, 2012

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bridgeBeing a mother of teenage men-children is an interesting journey. The boys that needed you so much for so many years as their primary carer, no longer look to you first for help and advice with everything. On the contrary, they look to and respect the opinions of their friends and peers first, older boys second, sporting coaches, teachers or other authority figures next, and parents coming in a long way last.

Trust me, 16 year old boys know everything and don’t need parents at all!  Except when they need a lift somewhere, or to know how to open a bank account, get a tax file number, put on a washing machine, fill the dishwasher or hang out some clothes.  And if they want something, they don’t necessarily ask their mother first anymore (especially if they think their father will lend a more sympathetic ear). Even more so if it’s a blokey activity, which I can appreciate and actually think is healthy for boys. You know, that male bonding stuff.

It’s certainly a challenge for one’s ego parenting teenagers, even more so as Mother of a Man-Child. In my mid 40’s, it’s fair to say I am loving life. Great mates, great job, great family, at my healthiest in years, good work/life balance, good network of friends and colleagues. However such is the power of teenagers that in a split second your ego can be inflated by a few simple words (“Mum, you look great” – if only they could say it without surprise in their voices), then instantly deflated with a look from them that needs no words, rendering said mother as “useless”.  If you are having a moment of weakness, these incidents can cut you to the core, leaving you feeling bereft, and almost in mourning for the children you once had, and the adoration they once bestowed upon you.

And God forbid you should attempt to talk to their friends.  Most of them seem very nice to me and happy to chat upon arrival in our home. Yet one of my men-children in particular (and to be fair not his brother) practically drags his friends out of the room, so quick is he to escape our presence.  I can only assume it’s embarrassment on his part – perhaps we are not up to his standards?  They say the grass is always greener on the other side – does the same extend to parents?  Are everyone else’s parents somehow cooler than your own?  No doubt.

Thankfully I still have Sister of a Man-child, who still wants and needs her mother. Me and my ego soak that up every day, knowing too well it is a temporary state.  Fortunately, as Celia Lashlie’s book “He’ll be OK” showed, I also have confidence the men-children will return to me in due course, and be the nice young men we are bringing them up to be, who love and appreciate their Mum (and of course their Dad and sister). 🙂

I have written about the journey across the adolescent bridge before:  It’s a Man’s world

 

A valuable lesson October 12, 2012

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laptopOne of the men-children learned a valuable lesson the other day about the working world and the importance of commitment.  I hope it is a lesson he will remember for a lifetime.  As luck (along with his Mother’s  persistence) would have it, he was able to spend a couple of days in my office over the school holidays helping out with filing and various other tasks, and earning some longed for income to support his entertainment needs and shopping habits.  Less lucky for him was the fact that the two days were right at the tail end of his holidays, which is when he least preferred the work – but hey, beggars can’t be choosers can they?

So it transpired that on day two, as I was on my way to an early appointment before work, I received a text message from said man-child informing me that he was suffering a head cold, sore throat, and general tiredness and did he really need to work that day?  I am serious!!!  Oh and he had been out the night before too.  I yelled upstairs on my way out the door that he should be ready in 30 mins to go to work.  The text messages continued unabated during my appointment, and I arrived home to find him still in bed, and openly admitting that he didn’t want to go to work because it was the last day of the holidays.  One word people – TOUGH!!

The next 15 mins were a battle of wills and wits.  Him insisting he wasn’t going anywhere, and me arguing the opposite.  Quite apart from the fact that it was MY employee that he was going to stand up, it was the underlying principle associated with believing you could just decide not to turn up if you didn’t want to that had Father of a Man-Child and me up in arms and fuming. In the end an outright threat was what got him over the line.  And I quote:  “If you don’t come to my office today, not only will you not get paid for yesterday’s work, but you will never work for my company again, and we will not give you another cent of pocket-money between now and Christmas!”  From the expletives that followed and the sounds of stuff being thrown around his room I was pretty sure I had him cornered.  So down he stomped and off to work we went!!!

Naturally I delivered him a lecture during the trip (nothing like a captive audience in the car) about the importance of commitment in life, in sport, in jobs, etc.   I asked him if he would leave seven of his rowing crew in the boat waiting for him – of course not.  I said if it was a permanent job at Coles or Woolies, you wouldn’t ring up at the last-minute and say you had a party to attend so sorry, can’t come in on Friday night, unless of course you wanted the sack.  And I said it was doubly worse that I had gone out on a limb to get him work, and this was the thanks he gave to me, my boss, and my employer!!!  Thankfully by the time we arrived at the office my anger had subsided and I was able to breathe.

On the way home that night, I asked if he had learned anything that day (actually referring to some newly acquired Photoshop skills) and he mentioned the importance of commitment and going to work when you say you will.  Silent fist pump!  Therein ending another life lesson for one man-child, and another chapter of stress and torment for Mother of a Man-Child.

Anyone else got any good stories of not giving in to the demands of their children or insisting they do the right thing?  Whether it’s a toddler or a teenager, it’s damn hard work I tell you.

Read about their first taste of work experience, and the lessons they learned earlier this year:  Gaining life experience from work experience

 

 

A tribute to an extra-ordinary man-child October 5, 2012

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heartsThis week a beautiful man-child that I had known for the 18 years of his short life, passed away whilst on a road trip across America with his family. Whilst this young man had been unwell for the latter years of his life, his death was still a shock and absolutely devastating for his family and everyone that knew him.

I have often thought of GG as we will call him, as I wrote about my own men-children every week. Whilst I typically make light of my boys and their escapades (good and bad), my thoughts over the years have often turned to GG, whose body progressively failed him until it could cope no more. So as I wrote about the hardships of 6 am rowing starts, the thrill of white water kayaking trips, the freezing conditions endured on cadet camps, the fun of gatherings on Saturday nights, and the arrival of first girlfriends, in the back of my mind was our friend GG, who didn’t have the chance to row, or kayak, or drive a car, or head out on the tram with all his mates to the races.

I also frequently thought about how lucky and blessed I am to have three healthy children, and how fortunate are my men-children and sister of a man-child, that they have their whole lives ahead of them to take on the world and all its challenges and opportunities.

That is not to take away from GG, or the things he did accomplish, both alone and with his family. I don’t for a minute want anyone to feel sorry for GG, as certainly he and his family didn’t feel sorry for themselves, or dwell on the cruel twist of fate that meant both GG and his darling younger sister suffered from a shocking childhood illness that would make their stay on this earth all too short.

Instead, they tackled the challenges head on, with more enthusiasm and energy than you could ever imagine, and ensured that their children lived life to the full. They made their kids lives as normal as they possibly could, whilst simultaneously ensuring they didn’t miss out on anything. They crammed more experiences and adventures into the short lives of their sick children, and their surviving daughters, than mine will probably ever have even if they live to 80. They are a truly remarkable, humble and amazing family.

And as to GG, and his sister, Angel J, they were both absolutely inspiring. They lived with their illness every day, they kept going, against all odds and setbacks as they became less well, they somehow retained a sense of humour, and were happy, optimistic, stoic and in short, quite heroic, making the most of every opportunity they were given. If I could bottle this determination and enthusiasm for my own children, just imagine what they could achieve?

We will all miss the beautifully handsome GG, just as we do his sister Angel J, none more so than his wonderful parents and sisters. For my part, it has been a privilege to have known such a special man-child, for the 18 years of his life, and I hope that it gives my own men-children pause to reflect on just how lucky they both are.

For those who are moved by this story and would like to recognise my friend GG and his sister Angel J in some small way, feel free to make a donation to Glenallen, a special school that they both attended for many years, where they continue to do a brilliant job catering to the needs of the most special children. http://www.glenallen-sch.vic.edu.au/

 

Ever present danger September 28, 2012

Filed under: Uncategorized — Mother of a Man-Child @ 5:00 pm
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tram tracker appThis week we were reminded about the potential for dangerous situations for our men-children.  Not surprisingly, as teenagers they are often out on weekends, generally hanging with a couple of friends, attending parties or gatherings, and travelling on public transport or by taxi if (their) funds permit, preferably in a group for safety.

We always like to know where they are going, who they will be out with, what time they are coming home, or if they are staying out for the night, etc.  Sometimes this frustrates the hell out of them, but as we explain, if something happens to you and you somehow lose your mobile phone, we really need to have some idea where to start looking for you or tracking you down.

Both of the men-children were out last weekend, having come back from kayaking camp (where they had a fabulous time), showered (I’m sure that felt good) and then headed straight back out the door.  When one of the boys eventually got up the next morning, he was fuming.  He told me about an incident outside a party where two older boys had confronted him and a mate.  They had pinned his mate against a wall, threatened him with a bottle (not broken I’m glad to say), and demanded money.  My son eventually offered them $20 and they took off, thankfully without stealing their mobile phones and any more money.

Over the next few days we had an interesting debate about how to handle a situation like this if it was ever repeated.  I actually think he did the right thing – stay with your friend, handover money (who cares) and stay safe.  I also asked if he knew who the boys were, or what school they attended, as I was more than happy to phone the said school and let them know there was some delightful behaviour going on.  What are the chances it’s not the first time they’ve bullied other boys?

We agreed personal threats to the offenders would get you nowhere, unless you wanted your head beaten in!  In truth, our son even baulked at the thought of us contacting the school, lest it be known he was the “dobber” and there were repercussions.  A discussion then ensued about the rights and wrongs of naming and shaming, so that the collective good defeats the bad seeds of society.  As a teenager, he really didn’t have the same global view of his parents, and frankly, didn’t seem to want to hear it.  Would it surprise you to know one of the boys had apparently been expelled from a very expensive private school?  No wonder!  So the matter was put to bed, there really wasn’t much we could do, but we do hope we gave our son food for thought.

Whilst the above events were unfolding, our other son was also out for the night, at a mates.  Since the men-children had been at camp all week, they were both under strict instructions to come home to sleep, and not stay out.  As is usual however, at 11pm the text messages started (no thought for slumbering parents of course).

“Mum, can I stay at xxx house please?  I’ve missed the last tram.”  “Bullshit.  You have not.  We agreed you would come home.”

He then calls me (most unusual in itself) to explain it’s a long walk to the tram, and that the timetable has changed due to school holidays (yeah sure) and that his Tram Tracker is showing no further trams.  Really I say, that’s frog shit, the tram timetable doesn’t change in school holidays, and they always run up until midnight.  And then I check my own Tram Tracker and see THREE trams coming to our suburb from his friend’s house in the next 50 minutes!!!!!

Suffice to say, I gave up arguing, told him I thought he should come home, but that I really didn’t care what he did, said I looked forward to the screen grab showing his faulty Tram Tracker, and by the way, thanks for waking me up, and would he like me to text and ring him at 6.30am when I got up for a run the next morning?  Of course not!!

Late next morning, up turns man-child #2 looking like he’s been beaten up by the same thugs that our other son encountered.  He’s got a massive bump and cut on his forehead, a cut under his eye some initial bruising, and another cut across his nose.  He can see the alarm on my face, and quickly tells me it’s not what it looks like.  Apparently he got up at his mate’s house in the morning, went to the bathroom, slipped on the wet floor and wacked his face on the vanity.  He’s lucky something isn’t broken.  He then tells me he wishes he came home after all (good) and has spent the morning icing his wounds and worrying how it will look tomorrow for his girlfriend.

Now for those who are thinking we just bought the oldest lie in the book, I have to admit the same thought crossed my mind.  However, having actually spoken to my son, who sounded completely sober the night before, I did believe his story.  Then again, I could shoot holes in it – an unusual call, a last-minute request to stay out, lies about tram timetables (do they think we came down in the last shower?).  Bottom line, he really had no need to lie about it.  Like his brother, I think he would tell us if something worse had happened.

So whilst the events of the weekend could have been far more fraught, it did bring home the ever-present threat of danger for our men-children when they are out at night.  You just have to read the paper and watch the news on any given day to see constant reminders of the randomness of violence on our streets.  And you just have to be a parent (like mine before me) to know the feeling when you lie in bed at night waiting to hear the squeak of the gate, or the sound of the front door opening, letting your children in to the warmth and safety of their home.  I can only hope this is the worst we will ever have to deal with in the lives of our men-children.

Of course, we have encountered the odd spot of trouble over the years:  An Arresting Story (caught shoplifting) and Drug & Alcohol Education (caught smoking dope)!