All posts tagged: mother & son

Teenage Tuesday: The last one ever with ’17’

This son of mine is funny, strong-minded, sensitive, and kind. He can also be messy, selfish, a bit lazy, and quite stubborn; a fairly normal teenager. We’ve had a good time with him here, haven’t we, laughing at his contributions to bone&silver? But it’s all going to change on the weekend. For this was me, a lifetime ago, standing on the edge of changes I had zero idea about, despite the weekly pregnancy group meetings, and various well-thumbed books. I went past my due date by more than two weeks, which stressed out both my midwives, but then I had my baby at home on the back verandah as planned, with no interventions or pain relief. As long as I was up and walking, labour wasn’t too painful… just long. Very long. Long as in “Started-On-Wednesday-Morning-Came-Out-Friday-Morning-Long”. Anyway, I made it. We made it. Born at 5am, on a clear frosty Winter’s morning, after his Mum had walked round and round the garden wrapped in a quilt for hours. And now this weekend, he’s passing from …

‘What are YOU going to do Mum?’

My son ’17’ and I just sat down to the yummiest vegetarian nachos I’ve ever made (why was it so good?? I did the same as always) About halfway through the meal, we were talking about his plans for 2019, once he’s finished school at the end of this year (fingers crossed), when suddenly he asked me what I was going to do? *gulp I’ve no idea. Since he was five, and first started at that earnest Steiner kindergarten with the massive tree in the playground, and the cute soft toys with no faces, I’ve been making lunches and healthy snacks, washing uniforms, and cajoling homework demands… Thirteen years of school-based predictability and rhythm; everything dictated by the calendar of classroom timetables and holidays. Now the future stretches before me, and while I smile at the prospect of freedom, I’m also swamped with sadness at the end of such comfortable routines, and a mild growing panic at the arrival of the huge unknown. Why, I could do anything couldn’t I? Anything. Like, move to Sydney or Melbourne, …

Teenage Tuesday: ‘I see you did a Teenage Tuesday post…’

Me *spluttering defensively: Where did you see that? Him: It doesn’t matter does it? Fact is, I saw it. Me *squirming uncomfortably: Yes, but- but- I didn’t write about anything you actually said… Him *staring at me firmly: True, you didn’t. Me *blushing guiltily, awaiting my punishment. Him *after a VERY long pause: It was funny actually. Your writing was good. I enjoyed it. Well done Mum.   [The post in question is HERE. ]  

Teenage Tuesday: “Managing your finite power, with Top Ten Tips for self care”

Over 40? Noticing you have less energy than you used to? After almost 6 years of detailed observation and study, here are this Mum’s Top Ten Tips for returning to the boundless power of your youth: If you open a drawer or cupboard door, don’t close it; imagine how much effort you’re saving. If you can’t find something, DO NOT search for it; call out loudly for its whereabouts, and miraculously someone else will know exactly where it is. When you take the lid off the toothpaste, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCE replace it. Minimize all cleaning/tidying/sorting activities as soon as possible- it’s best to urgently install a house keeper and butler to ease those daily needs (see #1, #2, & #3 above). Maintain an intense focus for hours on surfing clips, music videos, and occasional computer games, but REFRAIN from studying too much, it’s bad for your eyes. Practice the ability to party all night in 4 separate locations, then sleep half the day [*see Footnote 1 below]. Maintain an unrealistic view of all financial activities …

Teenage Tuesday: Ssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

’17’ has been at his Dad’s a lot lately, so I’ve had minimal fodder for our fabulous [still temporarily banned] Teenage Tuesdays… but negotiations are ongoing… all fingers are still crossed… this blog needs a cheery boost… and he’s coming back here tomorrow, so I’m feeling hopeful! Stay tuned… love Mama G xO And if you don’t know what I’m talking about, cos you’re new round here, or you missed it, you gotta read THIS still temporarily banned post : )    

Planning with teenage son: 2nd update

Me: I’m glad you didn’t have a party while I was away, & you did a great job on leaving the house tidy, but I’m fussy about the kitchen bench tops for a reason, and look, you’ve somehow made a big, permanent stain   Him: Oh shit! Sorry Mum. How did I do that? Me: I dunno Sweetie, but that’s why I nag you not to put hot pans straight on the counter. If you were renting this place, you’d get money deducted from your rental bond for that, just so you know… PAUSE Him: Well, when you rent it cheap to me to go live in France or Bali, I’m going to paint it all white, so it doesn’t really matter now does it?  

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Living with teenage son No. 33

Him: I hate it when you wear your hair in bunches like that. Me: Deal with it dude [*rolling my eyes]. LATER Me [rushing in from verandah where I’ve been reading quietly]: Oh my god, did you see that? A bird nearly flew into my head!? Him [without looking up from his book]: I told you, it’s that hairstyle, it makes you a target.  

Blog tales for the Over 50s with positive ageing, dating & relationships

Driving & talking with teenage son till I laugh/cry/laugh

So many times as a skinny teenager I used to ask ‘What’s for dinner Mum?’ She’d usually sigh, and dismiss me with ‘Oh I don’t know, I hate cooking.’ I made myself a lot of frozen pizza with instant mash potato. I learnt to love cooking though, especially after becoming a vegetarian in my early, idealistic twenties. When I had my son in my early thirties, I created different memories around food and eating with him; when he was 7 for example, I bought him his own small chopping knife to help me cook with, and ten years later, we still use it. We both enjoy good food a lot (he’s actually making dinner while I write this). His Dad’s a good cook too. We separated when ’17’ was only a toddler, and at first our son spent 2 days with each of us. It slowly stretched to 3 days, then 4; I think he was about 5 when it grew to Week On/Week Off. The day of ‘changeover’ became a mix of sadness and …