Friday, January 30, 2009

The shiny ball

Reality is sinking in. School is same, friends are same, homework is same, drama is same. Mid-winter teenage blues in good old Wisconsin, after six months of excitement traveling the globe. A wrestle with the dog might help ease the transition pains. Mom can make it better just by listening. That's new for me. The gnawing boredom and restlessness of adolescence just is what it is and now I do see I can't always make it better. I can finally stand back and say what I should have been saying all along, "I know you hurt. It will eventually feel better." Then quick and quiet, leave the room before I open my yap again and ruin everything.

Boredom, restlessness, argumentativeness, complaints about friends, homework, teachers, hair, skin, etc. Consider them all shiny balls in the kid's pocket, says a person smarter than me about these things. Oftentimes, all she wants to do is hold out her hand and show mama the shiny ball. Then put it away. Then take it out and show it again. And that's how it goes. It's frustrating to just look at the shiny balls--"Why show me if you don't want me to do anything about it?" No touchy. Only looky. It's going to be a long five years with a big plumping shot of Botox at the end of it all to fill in the crevasses developing between my eyes.

1 comment:

  1. You want them to hurt when they're still home and not (for the first time) when they are away, alone, in a college dorm, sobbing.

    You are so very right (in a lefty sort of way). It's not about making tears go away. It's about showing them that they can find places to recover. On your lap, for example.

    But, February is a drag. You can't bike anywhere to escape. So there's that.