Good morning! We're back from the oh-so-frigid mountains...you know the mountains...the place where people strap long planks onto their boots in subzero temperature, climb to the top of the mountain and once they are on top of the aforesaid mountain, he or she will propel themselves down a steep slope on their planks with nothing between them, the snow, the ice, a wayward snow boarder, and death. Yeah, they call this activity skiing. Ask my bud, Menopausal Marathoner about skiing and she will show you her x-ray and the cast on her wrist......anyway.....back to me!
Yes, we arrived yesterday on campus with our cooler full of goodies ready to sit in the back of the baseball banquet with our mouths closed, only opening them for an occasional sip of water. Is that the way it happened? Heck, no....my kid has matured...and here is how....
As I walked into the Ramada by myself since dad could not find a parking space, my son...the tall leftie walked up to me at the door and greeted me with a hug. That's right...not only did he acknowledge that I had entered the room, but he did so in front of his pals. Uh-huh....am I dying?
As we looked for the bar (OK, I was thirsty), he bought me a $5.00 glass of wine. Hum...what's wrong with this picture? He proceeded to chat with me until his dad and sister walked into the room then he greeted them. Wow....acknowledging in front of the entire baseball squad that you have parents and were not hatched or delivered by a stork has actually put him back into the will as I leave him my greatest possessions....my laptop, Tempur pedic bed, and chipped bar glasses. Back to the Ramada....
I announced under the influence of a sip of wine that we were having prime rib because I could identify the scent wafting through the lobby. That's right, we were partying in the lobby of the Ramada Inn with our $5.00 wine, $4.00 beers, and free prime rib scent. It seemed that the $40.00 that we each spent on our tickets was going to pay off in a big way....
I found my table in the back of the room, as I was going to keep my promise to stay away from the party. I actually wanted a great view to see if there were any fights or issues, but the guys were told by Coach that they were not allowed to drink and had to be on their best behavior.
looking around, I asked if any other parents were there since I could only find LW's and Big Red's folks. We sat with Angel's family who are incredibly sweet as they peppered him with multiple questions about his activities last week when he turned 21.
Asking the big kid why there weren't more parents, he replied: "There are....the guys are not sitting with them...." Ouch, I felt that pain....Then I oh-so-maturely said: "Look, go hang out with the guys...we're fine...we chatted...you can go."
"Nope...I learned my lesson the last time. I am fine here."
Sniff...yeah...that's what he said....my little guy has done a "360"...an about-face....He is no longer mortified by his folks. OK, perhaps we can embarrass him on a given situation, but he sees that guys really don't mind hanging out with the family on a short term basis. They can be themselves, live their lives, and come home every now and then. Our goal in life is not to embarrass him but to guide him to make good choices and feel positive about himself. Honestly, that's it. There are no ulterior motives....really.
For example, while shoveling the snow yesterday, a friend walked up to say hello. She reported that they sold their shore home as the kids have left the family house, and are ready to travel. See...full circle...no more ties to the seashore. Now they can move around freely since it has been 20+ years since they could just take off and find a condo to rent by a golf course.
And so, gang....here is the way that it goes....you raise the kids to be independent with the idea that you will eventually escort them out of the house or they can leave willingly...you travel....volunteer...sleep late....read a book uninterrupted...no longer have to hide cookies...will not find a sticky lollipop stick on your bottom (although in a Boston Market one day, a man carefully told me that I had a soccer ball sticker on my bottom)...no longer have to extract anything from your child's nose....no longer remember the lyrics to the Sesame Street songs....find yourself with quiet and solitude....wah! Yeah...I will miss the crazy, unpredictable things that happen around the house.
But perhaps....just perhaps...I will get a call (or text) asking me to join the kids for lunch. Their friends will be there...can I come too? Oh, yeah...bring dessert.....don't forget your credit card....
Got to go to Zumba....we actually had chicken last night and not prime rib....the nose was wrong...oops, I guess that I did embarrass him.
Have a great day!