Posted by jamielentzner | Posted in Miscellaneous | Posted on 05-09-2010
Being a parent is hard. As a mother, I really don’t know anything at all, there is no map, no directions, I just go with my gut. I try hard not to bring my past experiences out, I try to let them live their lives. I swear, like most I am just doing the best I can. I know it will always get better and that everything they go through is just part of life. Like I said, I try to just be there.
This past week was the first week of school for my children. My daughter sailed through third grade, my son not so much. I tried (unsuccessfully) to juggle life, work, and parenting as we marched towards another milestone. It was not easy, and I am pretty sure I did not breeze through it as I had wished. The reason this week was tough was that our end of summer vacation ended with a trip to the after hours clinic, and then a few days later my son was diagnosed with walking pneumonia. He got the bill of NOT Clean health the day before school started, sixth grade that is.
He was lucky that he was able to attend the first day of school, he was not lucky that he missed the two following days. I watched my son dip his too large for his body feet into junior high this past week. I tried to stay positive and keep my past experiences to myself. I forced myself (for once) to keep my mouth shut and my ears open as he ventured into new unchartered waters.
Junior High was awful for me. I did not fit in. I had the right clothes, my mother understood the importance of a good pair of vans, chemin de fer jeans and the coveted Ti sweats. Yet she could not save me from myself. My grades were not good – they were great and this did not work well for me. I was small, tiny actually, awkward too – oh and did I mention the braces? Those 3 years were miserable and I hated every minute of it. Looking like everyone else does not cut it in junior high. My peers could smell a fake very easily. My “look” did not mean anything, I was out of my element.
So, you can imagine how I felt when my son was forced to miss his first few days of school. As sick as he was, his main concern was who he sat next to in class and who he would eat lunch with. Worse was, if anyone would remember him. His fears became my fears. His insecurities, even as he took medicine and did breathing treatments, became my worries. I started to think the worst and worry how all of this would affect his time in junior high.
I spent the last week doing damage control and doing the job of 12 nurses. As sick as my son has been, and trust me he has and is sick, he is still concerned with school/social aspect of junior high. And really, isn’t that all junior high is? I mean I know his test scores and his grades can get him into a good high school and all, but that is not what I remember about those formative years. Those were the awful, miserable days of Zits and Tits. I had the acne down, the other not so much.
Sometimes things work out, and life just clicks and makes sense. Every once in awhile all my worries are just wasted. This was one of those times. My son is not me, um first he has no zits and the other thing – well, I am pretty sure he won’t have to worry about those. My son (after much coaxing) texted a friend about lunch and where everyone was sitting. He asked if his friend would save him a seat (gumption he has). I was shocked, I would never have asked, but my son he had no problem with it. And you know what – the answer was yes. It may have been a “hell yes” but I was not privy to his text, and that is fine. His worries were for not, he was fine concentrating on getting better. I am pretty sure even when he gets zits, he will be fine.