This morning finds me in a heap of free-flowing anxiety, and usually my best response to that is to write. So here I am.
The weekend has plans that I've been looking forward to for some time; our parish/school auction is tonight, and I am a sucker for charity auctions, much to my husband's dismay. But this year, I must behave myself - there are enough debts we're trying to clear as it is, without creating more, and there isn't really anything we need. 2012 has been earmarked by me as the "de-clutter" year - I feel like I'm drowning in "stuff". Much of which is our son's, but I digress... The next interesting (to me) task is to have our family room measured for new carpet (see "Debt", above) just to get some idea of what it would really cost. Far from being a frivolous purchase, this carpet is original to the house, which is 25 years old. Twenty-two of those years belong to our family, and growing boys are not kind to carpet. Neither are GROWN boys....so, having finally found something I think I could live with, I want to know how much it will be. I'm pretty sure the answer is Ka-ching, Ka-ching.
A surprise addition to the weekend - still tentative as we speak - is a brief visit from my Bez (PLEASE don't ask me what that means, it's impossible to explain...) Fitz. She's an 8th grade History teacher from Mukilteo, WA, and wants to attend an event in Vancouver similar to one she'll be guiding her students to next month. Being the classy perfectionist that she is, she wanted a dry-run to get an idea of what she'll be doing when it's her kids' turn. Have to admire that dedication - especially at $4/gallon, and about 3.5 hours each way. Don't tell me there aren't awesome teachers in the public education system, I'll give you a fight you'll regret....
None of this is the source of my anxiety. I know exactly what it is, I just have no idea how to confront it, how to resolve it, or how to change my response to it. In August, our Andrew will have been back living at home for three solid years. My rational brain says: he graduated into the midst of the 2nd worst economy in American history; he's busting his butt to change his lot; he's doing all the right things - networking, job coach, informational interviews, volunteering up the ying-yang - he is a pretty easy person to live with, and his attitude is remarkably upbeat. My emotional brain says: I want my car back, I want my office back, I want all his crap outta here, and I want my life back. And I feel SO guilty even as I think that, much less say it out loud, that it literally makes me nauseous. I know, oh how I know, that so many out there have it so much worse, and I almost pray harder for them than I do for us. At least we are stable enough to provide him with a safety net, which I know he appreciates, and does not take for granted. But I truly believed that by the time our youngest was pushing 26 years old, both boys would be suitably launched, and we would be gleeful, giddy empty nesters - perhaps still debt-ridden, which I fully expect to continue until we become fertilizer, but relatively carefree, having returned to the lifestyle of childless newlyweds. Got news for ya - this ain't it.
What is more troubling to me, and God, I wish someone would comment to convince me otherwise, is the nagging conviction that somehow, it's my fault. (Yes, as a matter of fact, I AM Catholic - why do you ask?) As things begin slowly - and I mean at glacial speed - to improve, and more jobs begin to tentatively appear, I can't help but wonder - why can't he seem to find one? Not even burger flipping? Home Depot? Grocery bagger? What's going on, or going wrong, that prevents him from being hired? And it always circles back to how we raised our kids. Both Tim and I could aptly be described as "outsiders"; we were certainly NOT in the popular circles growing up; high school - for me, at least - was endured, college was good, but neither of us fit the mold of social butterfly. Challenge Child #1 took that description to an exponential art form, at least until he discovered himself in high school Drama. Challenge Child #2 began as the happiest, sunniest, most optimistic little squirt on the planet, but about middle school, clouds began to cast their shadows over his easy-going disposition. The friends dropped away, the humor became more obscure, the interests more obtuse. That little guy is still in there somewhere, I'm sure of it, but all the therapy and intervention we could throw at him hasn't allowed him to access that inner swagger that once gave him such a magnetic pull on people. And I wonder if it's the result of our parenting, because we saw in our two the same things we struggled with ourselves, and were helpless to change.
Make no mistake, I love this kid - God, how I love him - and I could easily make a list of the qualities and talents he possesses that put him in a category all his own. His brother, as well. But Big Brother has managed to transform himself from loner to capable adult: He spent a year in AmeriCorps, he held a professional position for four years before the economy imploded, he's shown that he can handle any crisis thrown at him and land on his feet. While I have seen glimmers of that with Drew, it's just not there yet, and I fear that I will see his smiling face at the breakfast table when I am 60 years old. That's not a pretty thought.
It's not fair, what life is throwing at him, but as we all know, nobody ever said life would be fair. What I can't seem to get a handle on is how to help him navigate all this crap, and somehow come out on top. And maybe that is the crux of the issue: I can't, and perhaps I shouldn't. But nothing has ever caused me as much pain as watching my kids in pain - it's the uber-mom in me. I WANNA FIX IT!!!!! So maybe this is as much a journey for me as it is for Drew. God help us all, and somehow bring resolution to a crapola holy mess.
Stay tuned.....
I think that first, the guilt serves no purpose, so let it go (do what I say, not what I do). Then remember that you don't have the power to do what leaders and congress and lawmakers and all sorts of groups are TRYING to do...create a job for every deserving person. Finally, talk to one person who has a disrespectful adult child freeloading off them. I've heard of far too many adult children who argue with parents, feel entitled, don't lift a finger, scoff at menial employment, steal, take advantage, and worse. You raised that upbeat, helpful guy who is putting forth all his effort. You raised the guy who can land on his feet in any situation. Give yourself credit. Maybe it's a shift in our thinking that we need...maybe family isn't meant to be separated as much as it has become in the very recent history of humanity. My mom did a great job in my opinion, and guess who was there at the breakfast table when she turned 60? Me! And I'd be willing to bet by the time she turns 80 it will be the same way. And don't forget what being a "childless newlywed" was REALLY like...tons of unknowns, trying to navigate another person, dealing with tons of pressure and expectations. Accept the things you can't change, Change the things you can, and try to remember the difference.
ReplyDelete