Showing posts with label Noah. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Noah. Show all posts
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Birthday Boy
Today is a big day. The first child I gave birth to (because there is one more older than him. LOL) Turns 25! Happy Birthday Noah!
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
How Do I Help Him?
When the phone rings at midnight, it's never a good thing, so when my phone rang all kinds of horrible thoughts came rushing into my head. Is Mom ok? Dad? My sisters? Brother? Dean's family members? All in the few seconds it took for me to get to the phone.
I couldn't understand the voice on the other end of the line. I heard sobbing and "Mom?" squeezed out between the sobs, and thought it was T, which didn't make sense since T was downstairs AND I was just woken up from a sound sleep.
As I came to I realized it was N on the phone. He couldn't talk, he was crying so bad. Was he in jail? Was he hurt? Why was he crying like this? He squeezed out, "It's K..." (his girlfriend's name)
"What's wrong? Is she hurt? Are you hurt? Please, take a breath and tell me what's wrong. There...just breath in...and out....and in.... ok?"
Once he caught his breath he told me of the horrible way his girlfriend of 3 years broke up with him.
What do you DO? What do you SAY to your soon-to-be 21 year old son in this situation? I closed my eyes, and begged God to put the words in my mouth.
And I thanked God that N chose to call me...his mother....when he was at his lowest of lows. I rarely hear from N. Only when I call him. I get indirect messages from T, but other than than knowing where N is living, I'm in the dark. Every night I pray that God keeps him safe. That N knows he can come to me any time. Tonight he did, and I didn't know what to say.
There were lots of things I WANTED to say. Like, "Hello! She's only 18 and you've been with her for 3 years! She needs to see the world and so do you!" or the whole, "Be glad she ended it now BEFORE she got pregnant!" But none of those things would have been appropriate to say...now...while he's hurting.
N suffers from Major depression, and suffer he does. He must have said 20 times, "She's all I have. I gave her everything I could, but she's all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I AM nothing." Statements like that, while pretty normal for his age and the situation, scare me to death given his history. I told him I know how it feels to give someone your heart, only to have them stomp on it, and throw it back in your face. N has seen this happen to me, so he knows I know. I told him to remember that he can't control K's past. That the example she has lived with all her life, even though she swore she'd never be THAT kind of person, is exactly who she is right now. It's not completely her fault, because she is the product of her environment, but she did make a choice...and that's the direction she chose to go. I said lots more...trying desperately to grasp for anything I could think of. I tried not to say things that I would have hated for someone to say to me. I really suck at this kind of stuff! I spent an hour on the phone with him, wishing they'd given lessons about this stuff as part of the birthing classes we took. My friend would have a name for this class, something like, "The art of breaking up 101" or something like that.
I doubt N heard anything I said. But what he did hear is that his mother loves him. That no matter what happens, he can call me, anytime, day or night, and I'll do my best to help him. That mom's can't make the hurting stop sometimes, but they do have ears, and they can listen.
Tonight I'm praying that N heard me listening, and that when he cries himself to sleep tonight, he'll know his mom loves him.
I couldn't understand the voice on the other end of the line. I heard sobbing and "Mom?" squeezed out between the sobs, and thought it was T, which didn't make sense since T was downstairs AND I was just woken up from a sound sleep.
As I came to I realized it was N on the phone. He couldn't talk, he was crying so bad. Was he in jail? Was he hurt? Why was he crying like this? He squeezed out, "It's K..." (his girlfriend's name)
"What's wrong? Is she hurt? Are you hurt? Please, take a breath and tell me what's wrong. There...just breath in...and out....and in.... ok?"
Once he caught his breath he told me of the horrible way his girlfriend of 3 years broke up with him.
What do you DO? What do you SAY to your soon-to-be 21 year old son in this situation? I closed my eyes, and begged God to put the words in my mouth.
And I thanked God that N chose to call me...his mother....when he was at his lowest of lows. I rarely hear from N. Only when I call him. I get indirect messages from T, but other than than knowing where N is living, I'm in the dark. Every night I pray that God keeps him safe. That N knows he can come to me any time. Tonight he did, and I didn't know what to say.
There were lots of things I WANTED to say. Like, "Hello! She's only 18 and you've been with her for 3 years! She needs to see the world and so do you!" or the whole, "Be glad she ended it now BEFORE she got pregnant!" But none of those things would have been appropriate to say...now...while he's hurting.
N suffers from Major depression, and suffer he does. He must have said 20 times, "She's all I have. I gave her everything I could, but she's all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I AM nothing." Statements like that, while pretty normal for his age and the situation, scare me to death given his history. I told him I know how it feels to give someone your heart, only to have them stomp on it, and throw it back in your face. N has seen this happen to me, so he knows I know. I told him to remember that he can't control K's past. That the example she has lived with all her life, even though she swore she'd never be THAT kind of person, is exactly who she is right now. It's not completely her fault, because she is the product of her environment, but she did make a choice...and that's the direction she chose to go. I said lots more...trying desperately to grasp for anything I could think of. I tried not to say things that I would have hated for someone to say to me. I really suck at this kind of stuff! I spent an hour on the phone with him, wishing they'd given lessons about this stuff as part of the birthing classes we took. My friend would have a name for this class, something like, "The art of breaking up 101" or something like that.
I doubt N heard anything I said. But what he did hear is that his mother loves him. That no matter what happens, he can call me, anytime, day or night, and I'll do my best to help him. That mom's can't make the hurting stop sometimes, but they do have ears, and they can listen.
Tonight I'm praying that N heard me listening, and that when he cries himself to sleep tonight, he'll know his mom loves him.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Mother's Tears
It's not until we become mothers ourselves that we understand the tears a mother cries for her children.
Noah, my firstborn. As he was placed in my arms and I felt, for the first time, the joy only a mother can feel. He is the only one who got those very first mother's tears. They carried with them a bond only he and I can share. I cried tears of fear when, as a toddler, his finger was amputated in an accident, and tears of anguish as I handed him over to the surgeon to have it re-attached. When he was two I cried tears of delight when I found him dragging wet worms around on the driveway, and when I asked what he was doing he told me, "I'm painting!". When he was 12 I cried tears of "Why him?" when we were told he'd need to give himself shots every day, and tears of frustration when at 14 he suddenly refused to do them anymore. I cried tears of sorrow for the teenager who ran away from home several times, and tears of gratitude when he returned safely. There were the tears of pride when I saw my handsome boy dressed for prom, and more at graduation. He'll be 21 soon. My tears for Noah will continue as I watch him struggle his way through adulthood, as I'm sure my mother still cries for me.
Tyler, the middle child. I spent 3 months crying when Tyler was born. He came into this world confused and angry, as if he was upset about having been ripped out of the nice warm cocoon he'd had all to himself. My tears for Tyler were usually in frustration, not knowing how to help him, how to make him feel comfortable in this world that required touch. Tears of sorrow for the boy who struggled to be understood and would repeat himself over and over again until we finally were able to put together what he was trying to say. There were sad, helpless tears as I held him down for repeated blood draws to figure out why his blood cells were different from everyone else's, and tears of apology when I was able to comfort him afterwards. There were lots of tears of joy for Tyler too! Like when he was finally able to say his own name, and when he walked on his feet instead of his knees. Tears of pride at his ability to understand words far bigger than him, like "bioluminescence". There were the tears of fear when mental illness reared it's ugly head and we learned more than we ever cared to about the world of psychiatric care. Really though, those tears of fear and frustration that flowed from me for Tyler were prayerful tears, asking God to show me how to help my son. Now at 19 I see a wonderful young man with a heart of gold. Caring and thoughtful, he holds a place in my heart that no other can ever have. I know I have years of tears for Tyler ahead of me, but for now, when I cry for Tyler, I cry tears of pride as I watch this amazing young man.
When Angela was a baby, I cried many tears for her. Tears of "Why me? Why HER?". Tears of sorrow as we were given bad news over and over again. Tears of fear as I handed over over to the surgeon time and time again. At 8 years old, when I cried at her first her track meet, she asked me, "Why crying mom?" How do you explain to a child you're crying because as she runs across the finish line, you remembered a doctors voice telling you she'd never live past a year old. "Why are you crying mom?" after her recent theater performance. Those tears of pride for my baby, for all the hard work she put in, this child who would likely never talk. "Why are you crying mom?" as she leaps fearlessly into the deep end of the pool and comes to the surface with a huge grin on her face. "Did you see me mom? Did you see?". Tears of thanks to God for allowing me to see this beautiful, wonderful child of mine.
A mother's tears. Joy, sorrow, fear, gratitude, love, happiness. All the things mothers cry about. I'm so thankful to Him for allowing to shed mother's tears.
Noah, my firstborn. As he was placed in my arms and I felt, for the first time, the joy only a mother can feel. He is the only one who got those very first mother's tears. They carried with them a bond only he and I can share. I cried tears of fear when, as a toddler, his finger was amputated in an accident, and tears of anguish as I handed him over to the surgeon to have it re-attached. When he was two I cried tears of delight when I found him dragging wet worms around on the driveway, and when I asked what he was doing he told me, "I'm painting!". When he was 12 I cried tears of "Why him?" when we were told he'd need to give himself shots every day, and tears of frustration when at 14 he suddenly refused to do them anymore. I cried tears of sorrow for the teenager who ran away from home several times, and tears of gratitude when he returned safely. There were the tears of pride when I saw my handsome boy dressed for prom, and more at graduation. He'll be 21 soon. My tears for Noah will continue as I watch him struggle his way through adulthood, as I'm sure my mother still cries for me.
Tyler, the middle child. I spent 3 months crying when Tyler was born. He came into this world confused and angry, as if he was upset about having been ripped out of the nice warm cocoon he'd had all to himself. My tears for Tyler were usually in frustration, not knowing how to help him, how to make him feel comfortable in this world that required touch. Tears of sorrow for the boy who struggled to be understood and would repeat himself over and over again until we finally were able to put together what he was trying to say. There were sad, helpless tears as I held him down for repeated blood draws to figure out why his blood cells were different from everyone else's, and tears of apology when I was able to comfort him afterwards. There were lots of tears of joy for Tyler too! Like when he was finally able to say his own name, and when he walked on his feet instead of his knees. Tears of pride at his ability to understand words far bigger than him, like "bioluminescence". There were the tears of fear when mental illness reared it's ugly head and we learned more than we ever cared to about the world of psychiatric care. Really though, those tears of fear and frustration that flowed from me for Tyler were prayerful tears, asking God to show me how to help my son. Now at 19 I see a wonderful young man with a heart of gold. Caring and thoughtful, he holds a place in my heart that no other can ever have. I know I have years of tears for Tyler ahead of me, but for now, when I cry for Tyler, I cry tears of pride as I watch this amazing young man.
When Angela was a baby, I cried many tears for her. Tears of "Why me? Why HER?". Tears of sorrow as we were given bad news over and over again. Tears of fear as I handed over over to the surgeon time and time again. At 8 years old, when I cried at her first her track meet, she asked me, "Why crying mom?" How do you explain to a child you're crying because as she runs across the finish line, you remembered a doctors voice telling you she'd never live past a year old. "Why are you crying mom?" after her recent theater performance. Those tears of pride for my baby, for all the hard work she put in, this child who would likely never talk. "Why are you crying mom?" as she leaps fearlessly into the deep end of the pool and comes to the surface with a huge grin on her face. "Did you see me mom? Did you see?". Tears of thanks to God for allowing me to see this beautiful, wonderful child of mine.
A mother's tears. Joy, sorrow, fear, gratitude, love, happiness. All the things mothers cry about. I'm so thankful to Him for allowing to shed mother's tears.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Cool torture device for teens
Ok, I'll admit, I was at a loss what to give my boys (Noah 20, Tyler 19) for Christmas. Aside from the clothes they both need but don't want, I really had no clue what to get. What does one do when they're at a loss? Well, Google of course!
So I googled "gifts for teens" which brought me to findgift.com where I found a couple different things, but the one that caught my eye was probably the strangest gift a parent could ever give. I had to have it.
In this game there are 4 joysticks. (the name joystick is quite funny, given the nature of this game.) You can set the game 2-4 players. Each person removes their joystick from the base and hold on to it, holding their thumb just above the red button at the top. DON'T TOUCH IT THOUGH! At least...not yet.
In the middle of the base unit is the start button. Pushing it causes it to flash red for several seconds, then suddenly turn green. When it turns green it's a race as to who can push their joystick button the fastest. The last one to push gets a shock. (The level of shock can be preset before the game.)
I know, I gave a torture device to my kids for Christmas. But really..they had a BLAST with it. And, if there were a group of adults looking for an entertaining drinking game, this one would make a great shot game! LOL
There was another game that I also ordered, similar, but only two players. Here's the description: " Do you think you can really handle this? Each player will receive a very low and short electric shock through the handles and the red lights will flash... The shock will then start again this time longer and more powerful! Winner is the last fool still holding the handle!"
Do you think this will win me the "Mother of the Year" award?
So, just so you can see how the game is played, here is a lovely video of our family Christmas. Notice that the teens have decided putting it on the highest setting AND holding TWO joysticks at one time would be a smart idea. (NOT!) In all seriousness, these ARE great gifts for adolescent - young adult boys. (shhhhh the adult men thought it was kinda fun too!) *disclaimer* the shock does NOT HURT! It's like strong static electricity that feels VERY strange. Much like the hand buzzers we had as kids.
So I googled "gifts for teens" which brought me to findgift.com where I found a couple different things, but the one that caught my eye was probably the strangest gift a parent could ever give. I had to have it.
In this game there are 4 joysticks. (the name joystick is quite funny, given the nature of this game.) You can set the game 2-4 players. Each person removes their joystick from the base and hold on to it, holding their thumb just above the red button at the top. DON'T TOUCH IT THOUGH! At least...not yet.
In the middle of the base unit is the start button. Pushing it causes it to flash red for several seconds, then suddenly turn green. When it turns green it's a race as to who can push their joystick button the fastest. The last one to push gets a shock. (The level of shock can be preset before the game.)
I know, I gave a torture device to my kids for Christmas. But really..they had a BLAST with it. And, if there were a group of adults looking for an entertaining drinking game, this one would make a great shot game! LOL
There was another game that I also ordered, similar, but only two players. Here's the description: " Do you think you can really handle this? Each player will receive a very low and short electric shock through the handles and the red lights will flash... The shock will then start again this time longer and more powerful! Winner is the last fool still holding the handle!"
Do you think this will win me the "Mother of the Year" award?
So, just so you can see how the game is played, here is a lovely video of our family Christmas. Notice that the teens have decided putting it on the highest setting AND holding TWO joysticks at one time would be a smart idea. (NOT!) In all seriousness, these ARE great gifts for adolescent - young adult boys. (shhhhh the adult men thought it was kinda fun too!) *disclaimer* the shock does NOT HURT! It's like strong static electricity that feels VERY strange. Much like the hand buzzers we had as kids.
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