Raising teens

Crossed i’s

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I had every intention of posting another day on my travel log. Although I have been working on it for a few days, it seems to be lacking something. Emotion, perhaps? Oh, I think I will more than make up for it today.

It has been a rough week. I haven’t been sleeping. For every good night of sleep, there are 9 nights of not sleeping well. Maybe if I felt rested things would be easier for me.

I awoke this morning crying. My MIL visited me in a dream. She looked the way she used to, all full of life before the cancer devastated her body. We hugged and said how much we missed each other. Then her husband Darryl started giving me his belongings in the dream and we feared he would commit suicide. It was all rather horrifying and something that we worry about.

Loss is hard. It hurts sometimes to care about other people.

I found out this week that one of my best friends is moving a couple of hours away. This weekend my daughter will be leaving to go back to college. I feel pretty bummed out. I feel a little lost actually.

To make things worse in my life…while I was updating my travel post for the ninetieth time, I received a phone call from a friend of a friend. It wasn’t a social call. It was a call asking what my son was doing this past weekend.

Apparently, my son was going to pick up his daughter to go to her cabin for a party. Her dad busted her with alcohol and grounded her. She told her friends to go ahead without her. So about 20 teens showed up at her family’s cabin, did some hard core underage drinking, and trashed the place.

It didn’t go well confronting my son. We implemented a no staying overnight at friend’s houses policy for a month, a curfew of 10, and he would have to contact the parent to apologize for his part in the party. He was really upset when we told him he also needed to contact his girlfriend’s parents. He was afraid that her parents would make her break up with him. Thankfully for him his girlfriend told her mom about it.

It’s been really hard to concentrate at work with all of the stress and lack of sleep. Next week we have an auditor coming in. We need to make sure all of our t’s are crossed and our i’s are dotted. I feel like I’m crossing my eyes.

We had employees take off this week due to illness or sick kids. I felt a little jealous. Is that sick or what?? Maybe if I was sick I would be able to sleep and be oblivious to the world around me.

Don’t worry…tomorrow I will post about travel. There will be a lot of nice pictures and a lack of nasty little emotions.

Day 3: Our journey to Washington Island

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We had another late start this morning. George was having electrical problems and issues with his inboard motor. Capt. Tom was able to solve his electrical issues, but fixing the motor would involve taking it out. That wasn’t going to happen, so George tried to sail as much as possible on this trip so he wouldn’t have to use his motor.

It wasn’t long after we left the marina that I got a message about a problem at work. After all, it was early Monday morning. I felt frustrated. I wanted to be able to get away!

But is that really what I wanted?

I hardly slept the night before due to worrying about my teenagers at home. I felt a lack of control being away.

It would take many hours to get back by sailboat. Once we got to Washington Island, it would take a long time to get home by car. You need to take a ferry to get to and from the island. If there is bad weather, sometimes the ferries don’t run.

It can be a difficult passage by boat through Death’s Door. It is the point where the waters of Lake Michigan and the bay collide. There are 3 marinas on the island. This trip we are going around Death’s Door and not through it.

Washington Island is very secluded which is both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time.

On our way, we passed a schooner full of tourists.

Wisconsin is a truly strikingly beautiful home state. There is nowhere else I would rather spend my summers.

I was in paradise and found myself to be feeling completely miserable. Is this all there is for me?? Worry?? I couldn’t seem to let go of the worry about my kids or the stress of work. More than anything I really wanted to enjoy this time away.

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Near the end of our journey for the day, we stopped at Schoolhouse Beach. The water was 150 feet deep near this rock formation. Once we rounded the corner, we sailed into the cove to get to the beach. I’ve heard that there is only one other beach in the whole world that has the same geological rock formation, in Iceland.

We rafted up in 20 feet of water near the beach with 3 other sailboats. It was a hot day and it felt good to jump into the icy water. There wasn’t any sand on the beach, just smooth white rocks the size of the palm of my hand. The water was clear and it was amazing to see the rock bottom.

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I took a picture of the beach from the boat. I didn’t want to take my camera or my phone to shore on the dinghy. This picture does not do it justice.

Most of us jumped into the water from our sailboats. We had an incredibly hard time climbing the rocks to get to shore and kept falling into each other. It was easier to crawl or slide to a place to sit. Some of the rocks had paint splattered on them but I am not sure why. The rocks were comfortably warm against my skin.

We spent an hour at the beach until the rumble of distant thunder prodded us to get back on course.

Day 2: Fish Creek

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It was another rough start to the day’s cruise.

Captain Tom, the leader of the cruise, got his tank filled with gas. Problem was that he has a diesel engine. He was telling the story of the time someone almost filled his tank with gas to the young gas station attendant. Wait..what??!? You didn’t want gas? He already put in 3 gallons of gasoline.

We were waiting for Captain Tom to fuel up before heading out when his son-in-law came rushing over asking if we had a siphon. It took awhile to find something to siphon the gas with. I heard the harbor master speak hurriedly to his wife on the phone asking her to find something that could be used. Captain Tom was patient, didn’t swear at the young man, and kept his cool. This fiasco delayed us by a couple of hours, but we weren’t on a schedule.

In the meantime, we shared our horror stories about running and sailing. Quite a few of the sailors are athletes as well.

This morning the winds were ideal with 2 to 3 foot waves. Our destination today is Fish Creek, a tourist town.

I’m not feeling as anxious today, although I am wanting to write something for our vow renewing ceremony. I didn’t get very far. Paul and I will be celebrating our 20th anniversary in a few days. As a ‘writer’, I want to create something meaningfully deep and profound. No pressure! I want to celebrate on the exact day and time we were married 20 years ago, but the weather looks iffy. Paul and I are planning on jumping off the back of Captain Tom’s boat afterwards.

We won’t be celebrating the day with family and close friends, but with complete strangers. To be honest, I wouldn’t invite half of the people that I did to my wedding if I got married again. Granted, some of our guests passed away.. I wouldn’t have the same people in my wedding party. I don’t know if they would even be invited, sadly. Friendships change, people change..The people I consider my best friends now I didn’t even know 20 years ago.

It is hot on the boat today. I was tempted to jump into the water that is over 100 feet deep. The sun beat down on us. Paul tried to make a shelter from the sun out of tarp. I simply took off my shirt (the other boats were far away). I leaned over the side and tried unsuccessfully to dip my toes in the bigger waves. 

The sky grew dark and it looked like we might be hit with storms on the open water. We started the motor, but once again it wasn’t working right. The motor died before making it into the harbor and we almost hit Captain Tom’s boat. I pushed our boat off of his carefully with my foot.

We were so sweltering hot when we got to the marina that we walked to the public beach nearby. The marina was packed with big boats. It seemed very crowded and hard to get to the beach even though it was close by. We could hear thunder in the distance but we didn’t care. The water was cool and refreshing. The storms parted around us.

Later in the evening we walked to a nearby pizza place for supper, but it was over an hour wait so we went somewhere else. Afterwards everyone went to bed early, but I was too upset to sleep.

Alex texted me during supper that he wanted to quit his job. He ended up staying out with his friends until 11 PM and had to get up for work in the morning at 4:30 AM. It had me stressed out.

I talked about it to a few people in the group. Captain Tom said that if you haven’t raised teenagers, then you can’t explain it. But if you have, no explanation is necessary. Captain Tom said when his son was 17 he left home for several weeks and wanted to drop out of school. As an adult, he is a successful business owner. Strangely it made me feel better.

Regardless, I slept poorly that night. Despite my worry, Alex made it to work on time.

 

 

Competing against the clock

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My birthday is coming up in a few days. To celebrate, I am going to do my first Half Ironman. It just sounds so wrong. Maybe what people say about me is true…overachiever…workaholic..

Would I have more fun sitting on the couch watching a Netflix marathon instead of doing an actual marathon? Probably not!

I really don’t like the taper week. When you are used to working out an hour or three at a time it is physically hard to take it easy. I have to push myself to sit still. My mind is restless and my body is antsy. I want to run off the nervousness inside.

Last night I had my first pre-race nightmare that something was wrong with my bike. The seat was too low and I couldn’t adjust it. I had to bike through crowds of people, but couldn’t seem to make the pedals work right.

To tell you the truth, I am terrified of doing the Half Iron. More terrified than turning another year older. I feel like I am racing against time. I am not competing against you, nor me. I am competing against the clock.

I talked to some others over the past few weeks…I used to run marathons when I was young like you..That implies that someday this will all end.

The sands of time slip through my fingers… I never thought that I would be old. I never thought my kids would grow up. I always pictured us stuck in time at the perfect age. The age when we first met and fell in love. The age when our kids were little and had full confidence that we had all the answers.

It is horrifying to let go. My son got his motorcycle license yesterday. My daughter left for college last year and said that this is her last summer she plans on coming home. They are doing adult things like holding down a job.

When the terror sets in about what I am about to do…a Half Iron…I think back on all that I have already accomplished…3 marathons…WOW. If I fail miserably, I still have accomplished more than most people I know.

When I start feeling the horror of my lack of control as a parent, I have to remind myself that I have teens that are growing up to be wonderful responsible young adults.

As I turn another year older, I think about how much I’ve learned and how much more life is in front of me. If I look back to where I came from, it is pretty amazing that I got this far.

Fireworks..

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It was an interesting weekend on the lake. We headed up north Friday afternoon.

Saturday afternoon, my brother Mark and his wife Carla arrived. They decided to go to rummage sales. I asked to go with as it is always a fun thing to do being cheapskates and all. I was expecting being gone an hour or so. We ended up trudging back 4 hours later. Apparently Mark was kicking himself for not buying a junky accordion for $5 last 4th of July. The people did not have a rummage sale this year, but Mark was tempted to knock on their door to ask about the accordion.

I asked Mark to stop at the store on the way back. I brought everything along to make a banana daiquiri except the rum. As I was looking for the rum, there were some young folks stocking their cart full of liquor. They looked like they were 16. They happened to be right next to me in the checkout line. The cashier wanted to card the group of 5 young people until her manager told her that she only needed to card the one buying.

I pushed the door open on the way out and let it slip shut behind me as one of the young girls came out fast behind me. She muttered ‘bitch’ as she was leaving. At first I thought she was talking to me because I failed to hold the door open for her. I was about to turn around and have a conversation with her about her choice of words when I decided she was upset about the cashier and not me. I walked away not wanting to confront someone that was possibly underage. For a moment I pictured myself confronting the girl and ending the evening incarcerated. Sometimes anxiety works to my favor…just walk away.

The rest of the evening Mark and Carla fought. They didn’t seem very happy to be married.

Then my husband Paul’s stepdad Darryl showed up unexpectedly. Paul’s mother passed away in February. A couple weeks after her passing, Darryl discovered the internet. He has become obsessed with women that he could meet online. It is all he has been talking about. It really makes us uncomfortable.

Darryl was having a conversation via text with a hot younger lady the whole evening. She is younger than me. They were talking for several days and Darryl called her his new girlfriend.

The next morning she said her wallet was stolen and she was starving. She started asking Darryl for money. Darryl had to break up with his new girlfriend and seemed heartbroken. All this happened while Mark and Carla fought.

It’s sad that most people I know are just not happy…not happy being single, not happy being in a relationship. What is the purpose of that??

I told Paul that if he starts searching for my replacement a few weeks after my demise, I would come back from the dead and haunt him with a vengeance.

Every year my family goes up north together for the 4th of July weekend. It is almost like a family reunion. This year my brother Luke couldn’t come with his family. His dog was very sick and needed to spend the night at the vet. But that allowed my parents to come up with my brother Matt. Matt is still hearing voices and is obsessed with hurting Luke’s daughter.

Matt was acting strange.. He giggled like a maniac and became obsessed with the noise of the children next door. It was all very concerning and I had thoughts that I might have to protect those children if Matt freaked out. I remained vigilant, but nothing happened.

I spent three mornings swimming across the lake. It went pretty well. Paul kayaked or boated attentively by me. Every time I took a breath, I saw him there. Except for one time. I had a feeling something was off and I was right. There was a loon in the water 10 feet in front of me and I was heading straight for it. Swimming up north across the lake is terrifying because I can’t see what is in front of me, kind of like life is sometimes when things are uncertain. I probably would never swim again if I rubbed up against the loon.

Paul and I also took the 12 ft sailboat out. The wind picked up and the lake was quiet. Once we got quite a ways out, the wind died and everyone came back out on the lake. We were hit by the boaters waves and had to paddle to get anywhere. Then Paul dropped the paddle and had to jump in. Some of the boaters came by and asked if we needed help causing more waves. Time to sell that sailboat I think.

To tell you the truth, I was bummed out a bit up north this year. My oldest daughter Angel decided to go to St. Louis for the 4th to be with her new boyfriend. My son Alex didn’t want to come up either. I told him he had to come for one day. He showed up late Monday afternoon. He spent the night and left the next morning.

I expected that Alex would spend the day with us swimming and kayaking, but he wanted to go cliff diving with his friends. After he left, I cried a few tears. I felt so upset that he left. I wanted him to be there, but he didn’t want that. I felt hurt to let go of two kids at the same time.

I sat around feeling sorry for myself. We were just about ready to leave when we heard someone call our names from the lake. Our friends Cori and Randy were on a pontoon boat with friends. They kidnapped Paul, my youngest daughter, and I. It was so much fun that I forgot about my sadness for awhile.

That was my weekend.. Sorry it is so long.. I wanted to tell you this before I forgot.

We are leaving soon to go back up north to visit Lisa and Tom…another adventure awaits!

Risking adventure

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This past weekend my son went cliff diving. Thankfully, he lived to tell about it. Honestly, it looks like a lot of fun.

My son loves adventure. Sometimes the apple does not fall far from the tree.

A few weeks back my son sprained his ankle at the trampoline park. Thankfully, he didn’t get hurt more seriously. Honestly, the trampoline park sounds like fun. I would probably want to hang out there if I was 17 too.

Despite missing a week of work at his new summer job for a sprained ankle, my son is getting up before dawn to put in 40 hours of hard labor at a flooring company. I can’t treat him like a baby anymore. He is taking a lot of responsibility and working hard.

With his first paycheck, he bought an electric bass guitar. It is so cool. He has the ability to pick up any instrument and quickly learn how to play it. He is being courted by a couple of bands. How exciting! What an adventure I am sure that will be. I wish I could’ve done that when I was his age!

In a few weeks, he will be getting a motorcycle. If my husband was into motorcycles, you can bet I would be riding on the back of it or getting one of my own. How thrilling!

But as a mother, I am not too keen on my son’s adventures. What if he gets seriously hurt or worse??

My husband says we would be total hypocrites if we are adventurous but discouraged it in our children. I suppose our son could spend his life locked away in his room playing video games, but that is probably dangerous too.

I just told you a couple of weeks back how the rudder broke on our sailboat during a race. We spun in circles in rough water and had to come back against the other boats that were coming towards us. That adventure could’ve ended poorly, but it didn’t. It made for a great story and the most exciting race ever.

My hobbies aren’t the safest.

I could drown while swimming or sailing. There is a 1 mile stretch of my running and biking route that are especially dangerous. I’ve almost been hit in that area by idiot drivers a few times. But I have yet to change my route. Last year a pedestrian died on that road. Granted it was dark and he was wearing all black.

This week I was running on the dangerous stretch of road when just under the hill a Bambi froze in the middle of the road about 20 feet in front of me. I knew if I didn’t start yelling at the animal that a car could come over the hill, swerve, and hit me. It could’ve been dangerous.

It was at that moment I realized that my son is no different from me. We want an exciting life of adventure which means unexpected things can happen. We don’t want to get hurt doing it, but are willing to take the risk to do something that makes our lives more fulfilling.

It is time to start letting go and letting him live his own life. That doesn’t mean I will stop worrying or trying to give unsolicited motherly advice!

You probably know which child is giving me most of my gray hair!

Midlife is getting old

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Sorry to have possibly scared a few new parents yesterday with my talk about raising teenagers. I usually am more confident in my decisions. As the kids get older the decisions seem to be so much more difficult…As the old saying goes…Bigger kids, bigger problems..

How can I not be nervous? The decisions they make the next few years will be some of the biggest in their lives. They will decide who (if) to marry, if they want children, where they are going to live, their career path…pretty much everything that will effect the rest of their lives.

That is scary as a parent…letting go…letting them make their way..watching them learn lessons the hard way..

I can’t seem to relate to new parents anymore. I guess that is a clear giveaway that I am getting old..

Paul asked the other day if I missed having young children. “No” was my reply. Some of my friends are grandparents.

It has been a year full of changes so bear with me. I am entitled to go a little crazy every once in awhile.

My oldest daughter left home for college, then less than six months later Paul lost his mother. Together we lost our first parent and our oldest left.

We can see how the decisions our parents made in their young years effected the whole direction of their lives for good and for bad. Now we are seeing what path our children will take.

Within the last six months I also lost my last ‘great’ and now my parents attained the status of oldest living relatives. And I thought my parents were old when I was a kid!

This whole midlife thing is starting to get old. The kids are starting to leave home while our parents are starting to age rapidly and die.

I want to enjoy every single moment of life that I can.

This morning I awoke to the news that the baby of my neighbor’s daughter passed away unexpectedly. Last year my neighbor lost his wife and she was only 45. It just doesn’t seem fair. I feel such sorrow for the family.

It also makes me appreciate the blessings I have. It makes me want to squeeze my kids tight. Although I am not too sure they would like that.

I am doing the best that I can. I am trying to make the best decisions that I can for my kids. That will have to be good enough.

I am trying to grasp life and enjoy what I can now because this is as young as I am ever going to be.

Letting go of (not so) little hands

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Last week my son turned 17.

It was my son that ended up in the ER the weekend before this past one. He hurt himself at the trampoline park. Thankfully, he just sprained his ankle.

This next weekend he wants to jump off a cliff. I say I want to do this all the time, but he is really planning on cliff jumping/diving.

I worry all the time. Is there any wonder why??

When I think I have it bad, I am reminded of a classmate’s son who checked jumping out of a car at 55 mph off his bucket list.

My son wants a motorcycle. We told him he needed to work on his grades and get a job.

The original job he had lined up fell through. Now he has a better job. He does general labor for a flooring company. It is hard, dirty work that pays unbelievably well. A job that pays enough to buy a motorcycle.

We decided to let him get his motorcycle license. Perhaps if you are reading this now and you are rather young, you think I am the world’s coolest mom. Or perhaps you are thinking I am the world’s biggest idiot.

I don’t even know anymore…But hear me out.

In less than a year, he will be getting a motorcycle with or without my blessing. He could very easily say ‘screw you mom and dad’ and be very reckless about it. Now we signed him up for a class at the local Harley Davidson, we bought him a helmet, and practically every safety item we could without putting a bubble around him. We are hoping to instill good habits now. Plus by the time he takes the class and gets the bike, he will only have 2 months to ride before it is too cold.

Believe me, I am not as excited about it as he is.

I really wish kids came with owner’s manuals. Or at the very least a flow chart. Is your child adventurous? Yes or no. Is you child a risk taker? Yes or no. Does your child follow the rules of the road? Yes or no. Each answer would pop up a simple pass or fail for each decision that needs to be made.

That would be the perfect world.

 

I loved it when my kids were young. I felt like I had some control. They would eat the food I gave them. They would go where I would take them. Then went to bed when I told them. They wore the clothes I picked out for them.

I realized the minute my children entered the world that they would someday have to leave it. I just don’t want them to leave this world before I do. I told my son that I would never forgive myself if something happened to him on a motorcycle. Children die all of the time. I can’t stop a car accident, a disease, or a natural disaster. Yet I worry about the things I have no control over.

My kids are going to make mistakes. They are going to get hurt. Letting go is a lot harder than I ever thought that it would be. I want to hold their little hands forever. I have to force myself to not over mother and smother my little birds and instead let them try out their own wings to fly. Sometimes it feels wrong. I spent so much time focusing on them. It is hard to let go. As strange as it sounds, it is hard to be me again. It is hard to do the things I want to do for me. It seems so selfish to be able to focus on myself again.

I hope I am making the right decision about letting my son get a motorcycle. But try as I might, I won’t be able to grasp his hand for much longer.

Worth, an Olympic tri

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And just like that my confidence was swept away with the howling of the wind..

We arrived the night before the Olympic triathlon. We dipped our feet in the cold waters of the shore. I had one raspberry daiquiri that felt like four.

We dined at a table next to a family with 5 kids all looking to be under 7 years old. They were well behaved and received the envious stares of a couple with one rambunctious toddler.

I briefly thought of my teenagers who could care less about my race the following day while I glanced at my husband across the table. We were alone. My husband played peek-a-boo with the baby at the table next to us. I felt relief that the young years of parenting are over, but wished I could grasp their interest once more. How incredibly boring my children think I am…

We went to bed early the night before the race. I woke up several times during the night fearing that I would miss my alarm but I never do. I awoke to the sound of athletes outside my window. I felt the tug to get ready early even though I was in one of the last waves to go.

The weather conditions were brutal. It was very windy and hot. I was one of the last few people to start swimming. The first half of the swim was against the strong wind. I couldn’t put my face in the water. I was nervous, breathing fast with a racing heart. Every time I put my head in the water and came up for air, I was hit by the waves. It seemed like I sucked in more water than air. I struggled, sputtered, and coughed. But I did not panic nor did I give up.

The swimming was the hardest part. I felt exhausted before the rest of the race started.

The biking was also challenging. The course was very hilly. The wind blew with a sustained speed of ~25 mph with stronger gusts that were strong enough to take down branches and trees and blow the dirt from the nearby fields into my eyes.

I had to stop a man on a motorcycle for water. I didn’t care that I didn’t know him, that he already was drinking out of it, or that the water was warm.

I struggled up the steep hills against the wind. I hit the brakes going down the hills because the wind took my wheels like a kite and I drifted all over the road. Sometimes there were curves at the bottom of a steep hill. I’ve never road a bike on hills like that before nor did I train for it.

I had to be careful for cars since the roads weren’t closed. I almost got hit by a car going through an intersection that did not stop for the crossing guards. They threw up obscenities towards the reckless driver and mumbled apologies my way.

I was told to slow down on a hill because of loose gravel. A rodent dodged out of my path. My bike helmet was too big and painfully chafed the back of my neck. My skin scorched burning in the heat.

By the time I reached the second transition I was very tired. A man who was already done offered to lift my bike on the rack. He also offered me a pair of socks. I didn’t need the socks. I will remember to go without them next time. I looked and looked for my socks I didn’t need, but I was sitting on one. I left to run with one sock on and one sock off.

Running is my strong suit. I pride myself in not doing a lot of walking during a race. There were a few points that I broke down and walked. I walked under the beating burning sun against the wind up a hill. I prodded myself along by thinking that I was almost done. All the Gatorade and water did nothing to quench my thirst. With the exception of a little cup of ice, all of the drinks I was given were hot.

It took me over 4 hours to cross the finish line, but I didn’t give up. Unbeknownst to me, I signed up for an extremely challenging race under ideal weather conditions.

So far the recovery is going smoother than the marathon recovery last month. Marathon recovery is much more intense and painful. This time I feel more exhausted than I do sore. I spent a lot of time yesterday just bored out of my mind but I couldn’t find the energy to do anything. I couldn’t find the strength to grasp the words that were fluttering through my mind.

In the end, I feel more prepared for the Half Ironman next month. But on the flip side, I feel less confident.

 

Journal 4

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I decided to move on from journal 3 to journal 4.

There were a few things from journal 3 that I didn’t want to get into with you. When I was a child, my dad was cruel towards us. I am not ready to face that demon yet. I just want to face growing up with a violent autistic sibling…so much easier?

I will talk about my relationship with my dad some other time…later perhaps…maybe when his feet no longer touch the ground on this earth.

So far journal 4 is a bit of a steamy romance written when I was 17. In high school, we were required to write in a journal everyday for English class. I honestly can’t believe some of the things that I wrote. What if the teacher randomly collected our journals??

So far I am planning on burning this journal. I want to purge its existence off of the face of this planet.

How can it be that I want to destroy a part of me? A part of my life?

It is all foolishness people…It is about hating my parents, wanting my freedom…feeling bored and depressed…wanting more…waiting for a letter in the mail or a phone call from that special someone…trying out new things like drinking and smoking cigarettes…and don’t forget the steamy romance…Blaahhh

Normal teenage experiences re-read as a 40 something year old with kids that age..I almost threw up!

I want my kids to think that I was always old and dreadfully boring! I am doing a great job keeping up the facade.

Best to burn it before my teens find it and discover that I was once young and dumb…

Then I have to take the thought one step further….Will I think that the things I wrote on here when I am in my 40’s are immature and dumb when I am in my 60’s? Time will tell..but paper is so much easier to burn!

Maybe I should share an excerpt with you for a good laugh…Or maybe I will just burn it instead!

I haven’t decided…

???