Frankly Ronda

I leave my Commuter Family blog on April 25, 2016.

We started our Commuter Family in April 2012 and Commuter Husband is still making that weekly trek between Houston and Dallas. We have made it work for us. I am thankful.

I am moving on to a different blog ... hope to see you there!

My New Blog: Frankly Ronda!

Brotherly Love Looks Like ...

Brotherly Love Looks Like ... A Headlock.

It starts as a casual connection.

Notice the arm starting to move in ...

The one armed lock is in place.

A full head lock accomplished. 

Resistance is initiated.  

Brotherly Love right there in that split second. 

A move is made to get out of the headlock.

Getting out will require a tussle of sorts. 

I have learned much as the mother of boys. I will state the obvious: males, in general, have characteristics that differ from females. And I continue to be fascinated by the antics of the other gender.

Birthdays

I was four years old on April 16, 1969. I have no real memory of this birthday but I have Polaroid pictures. And I have a sense of happiness that was on that day. The pictures show a typical 1960s backyard birthday in Burleson, Texas with cousins, neighbors and friends and a Cinderella cake! I got a bicycle with streamers and a flower covered basket. The family story is that Granny bought me the bicycle against her daughter's (my mother) wishes - probably true. There are no pictures of my mother so I am assuming she was the photographer.

I am perched on the bicycle.

I am smiling and probably glad to have my cousin sitting on my left.

Opening my four year old birthday gifts on a sunny day.

I was five years old on April 16, 1970. There are pictures from this day at the same house. It was an indoor birthday and some of the same faces appear in photos and new ones too. Real or imagined, I do not think of this day with joy. The photographer on this day was my stepmother. My mother was killed soon after my fourth birthday.

The yellow dress stands out on this fifth birthday.

And there are gifts.

I was 39 years old on April 16, 2004. Oldest Son was four years old which is the same age I was on that last birthday with Cheryl Virginia (Bills) Henry, my mother. On this day in 2004, I felt gratitude sweep through me like a tidal wave. I realized, as a mother myself, how fortunate I was to have had my own mother and father for the first four years of my life. Four years of unconditional love in the late 1960s in a stable home had laid the foundation for confidence, security and resilience that I would draw on through many more birthdays.

Oldest Son turns four in 2004 with an North Pole themed pool party.

Today I am 51 years old on April 16, 2016. I am a mother with sons who are 16 and 14 years old now. My husband is by my side and is my biggest fan. Commuter Husband and I are relatively healthy with some of the normal mid-life ailments. We are safe and secure. But I am unsettled. My brain races daily to figure out how the next half of my life should be defined. Hard Stop. There needs to be more, something more in my personal contribution to this world.

Hello and Good Bye

One aspect of parenting that often takes me unawares are daily mundane things that Oldest Son and Youngest Son show themselves not to know. This occurs when we make a transition or a new responsibility presents itself.

This week's surprise is associated with Oldest Son driving. He has embraced managing his own logistics seamlessly and responsibly which is a positive outcome and we ARE proud of him. However, we are missing the Hello and Good Bye part of coming and going.

This morning I am at the other end of our ranch house and I hear the door alarm sound that signals that someone has left the house. Oldest Son left without saying anything like "see ya later" or "I'm leaving" or "good bye." This also happened when he arrived home yesterday and went straight to his room. I promise we have modeled greeting pleasantries for his 16 years in our home!

Yes this is normal teenage behavior. Got it. So we will teach this teen considerate behavior norms. I caught him in the driveway today and tried to calmly explain to him that we expect him to show his face to us when he arrives and leaves the house and say a few words. Independent introverts are still expected to be polite; we are old fashioned this way.

So as he rolls up the car window with a ever so slight smile, Oldest Son says "Have a good day" and drives away.

Our New Driver

The Empty Laundry Hamper

A universal teenage mystery is why the laundry hamper remains empty in said teenager's room and bathroom. I have no magic solution. I advise some level of acceptance to my fellow parents of teenagers.

Our approach is twofold. Since Youngest Son does his own laundry weekly, he will eventually gather the piles and wash. And we are fortunate enough to have a Tuesday housekeeper thus he complies with our requirement that his room and bathroom are clean by Monday night at 9pm (and if he does not then he gets to scrub the toilet which has happened.)

The other six days of the week ... well ...

My favorite aspect of Youngest Son's bathroom is the two open drawers - really?!

And why are the hot pink beats Youngest Son bought with his own money on top of the wet towel?

THIS is the EMPTY laundry hamper within inches of the bathroom hurricane including shorts, socks, shirts and underwear.

And we move to the bedroom where Youngest Son is consistent in his approach tidiness.

Another EMPTY laundry hamper in the bedroom and also within inches of discarded clothing.

And The Next Day ...

Yesterday I was basking in the passing acknowledgement from Youngest Son that arguing may not always be the easiest of routes. 

And then there was today. As a working mother, I try to pick a few volunteer opportunities each year at the school Oldest Son and Youngest Son attend. Last night, I let Youngest Son know I was helping cover 7th grade lunch today. His immediate response was to ask in a less than enthusiastic voice "Why?"

I arrive today to join three other mothers to execute our lunchroom duties. We wait on the sidewalk as the 7th graders approach the cafeteria. Youngest Son's best friend approaches me to say hello and apologetically tell me he is trying to get Youngest Son to come over. Youngest Son is in full blown teenage "avoid my mother" mode.

So here is how things shake out as students go through the lunch line and find tables to sit:

• Mother #1 is invited by her 7th grade son to sit with him and his friends.
• The daughters of Mothers #2 and #3 try to avoid their mothers but the mothers move their stuff to the table where daughters are sitting.
• Mother #4 (that is me) discreetly inquires if Youngest Son wants me to sit with him and his five friends and the answer is a definitive No as expected.

Alas it was like one of those after school specials with that awkward moment when the main character realizes they have no one to eat lunch with ... oh my! So it is a good thing I am a grown up and confident and able to enjoy my salad at a four-top alone. And I also know that Youngest Son is exerting predictable teenage independence and this is part of his particular journey to adulthood. My job is to love this kid unconditionally each day and especially on those days where friends are the center of his world as expected.

The Lunchroom at The School.

Small Teen Victories

On the way home from school, Youngest Son and I are talking. The topic of sending out his cards with bar mitzvah and bat mitzvah gifts for his friends comes up. Youngest Son does them in batches and he had completed a group yesterday (he has been invited to lots of celebrations this year!)

Youngest Son volunteers "I got my cards done allot faster this time."

Me with a monotone and supportive voice "Yes you did."

Youngest Son responds with a slight grin "Because I did not argue."

Me resisting the urge to be preachy "No you didn't."

Then my brain does a silent happy dance. 

Youngest Son work'in at the table ...

First Driver and First Car

As parents of teens, it seems like Commuter Husband and I are in a constant cycle of decision making and talking. However, the old adage "actions speak louder than words" is sometimes the simplest course of action ...

First Driver and First Car
Commuter Husband and I spent a considerable amount of time determining what was best for Oldest Son and our family as he turns sixteen and can drive. Here are our guiding principles for Oldest Son:

• Complete all requirements of online drivers ed before age sixteen - DONE
• Take drivers test at age 16 and contribute the the family chauffeur service immediately - SCHEDULED FOR MARCH 23

Then we had to decide how to provide Oldest Son's with his first car so here is what we did:

• Considered passing along our Prius but decided we were uncomfortable with safety level and high milage. We wanted a vehicle that will get him through high school and college.
• Reviewed list of safest used cars for teens and looked under small SUVs
• Picked the safest ones in our price range (target 12K) and without fancy options
• Found exactly two used car choices meeting our criteria and we decided the Mitsubishi Outlander Sport ES (base level) would be the one Oldest Son would prefer
• Bought a 2014 Mitsubishi Outlander Sport ES with less than 10,000 miles! We had to go a little over budget but not much and we have 3 years of factory warranty left. Commuter Husband did a great job finding this deal!

We surprised Oldest Son as part of our annual Valentines Day celebration.

Hershey Kisses leading to Valentines Day gifts and a clue taking Oldest Son to the driveway.

• Oldest Son said excitedly with huge smile "It's not a Prius!" (We had led him to believe he was getting the hand-me-down car.)
• Youngest Son said with astonishment and a smirk "Hey your car does not look dumb!"

Happy and Shocked!

Trying it out!

Traveling with One Teen to Phoenix

Oldest Son and Youngest Son are out of school for a long holiday weekend. Oldest Son is in Florida participating in a debate tournament. Oldest Son "gone for debate" has become a common occurrence. Thus, Commuter Husband and I expect to be out and about with our Youngest Son more often over the next few years. This gradual movement from four to three signals the beginning of our boys creating their own independent lives separate from their parents. This long weekend we ventured to Phoenix, AZ with Youngest Son.

Friday Morning Arrival = Family
A 6am flight out of DFW got us to my Uncle's (my mother's brother) house in time for coffee in Phoenix. Commuter Husband, Youngest Son and I visited with Uncle and Uncle's Wife. Uncle had a double lung transplant one year ago when we were here visiting during Ranger's Spring Training. It is miraculous to see how great he is doing and living life fully again ...

Youngest Son learning how to chip golf balls from Uncle (his Great Uncle) in the backyard. 

Friday Evening = Sports
Commuter Husband went to Arizona State University way back when for his college freshman year. Friday evening we returned to his alma mater to attend the ASU versus USC basketball game. The college game was both fun and entertaining ...

The Band and Cheer Girls and Fans at attention for the Star Spangled Banner. 

And the spectacle of fire as the Sun Devil Basketball players are announced!

Seats on 3rd row rock! 

And the Sun Devils are victorious over the 23rd ranked USC!!

Saturday Morning = Nature
We awoke Saturday morning to coffee and yummy breakfast. Afterwards, Commuter Husband, Youngest Son and I headed to Thunderbird Conservation Park for a hike.

Youngest son scarfed down the pecan waffles made by Uncle and the eggs and bacon (real not turkey) made by Commuter Husband.

Youngest Son reaches the top of our 1.5 mile hike.

The View.

Saturday Afternoon = Culture
Who can say they have been to the 26th Annual World Championship Hoop Dance Contest? The Heard Museum of American Indian Art & History was the host to this uniquely American experience.

We arrived to see the last few teen dancers.

Watching from a shaded hillside. The sound of the drums and chants heard clearly. 

This adult dancer from British Columbia was fantastic!

Youngest Son and Commuter Husband looking at Allan Houser's (Haozous) (Chiricahua Apache 1914-1994) bronze, Unconquered II.

Nora Naranjo-Morse (Tewa, born 1953) bronze, Khwee-seng (Woman-man)

Father - Son

Saturday Night = Food and Games
We wrapped up a full day with grilled steaks and 42 ...

Fillet, Baked Potato and Salad - so good - outside on a beautiful Phoenix evening.

Uncle and Youngest Son beat Commuter Husband and me - ugh.

A World Imperfect

I really need to sign up for a poetry class. And escape to a beach with no news feed.

A world broken

War and refugees 

Poverty and disease

Rape and murder

Men and domination

Never ending

Lessons learned, not really

A world confused

Wealth and power

Land and borders

Religion and G-d

Sex and force

Never ending

History repeating, over and over

A world intolerant
Women and skin
Special and different
Poor and uneducated
Beliefs and cultures

Never ending

Closed minds, always a battle

A world political

Lies and deceit

Corruption and money

Deals and alliances

Selfish and self-absorbed

Never ending

False leaders, getting worse and worse

A world of children

Abandoned and orphaned

Pressured and stressed

Abused and forgotten

Sold and subjected

Never ending

Empty promises, the cycle repeating

Our Children (Youngest Son & Nephew). Simple Beauty. (@ DMA)

Teen Boy Mismanagement of Clothing - Part 2

This Morning as Oldest Son Walks into Upper School

Me thinking "Those jeans look huge and so short ... hmmmm. Does he have on Youngest Son's jeans?"

(Youngest Son now outweighs his brother but is still shorter.)

    

This Afternoon when Oldest Son Returns Home

I say quizzically to Oldest Son "Uhm ... those jeans are huge and too short. Let me look at them."

(Oldest Son takes off his BELT and hands the jeans to me.)

I am stunned. Oldest Son has been wearing Commuter Husband's jeans ALL DAY. Let us put this in perspective:

• Oldest Son: Who requires a belt with his 28 x 32/33 jeans for his slim, runner's frame
• Commuter Husband: Who has very cute but short legs for his 33 x 30 jeans

How the heck did he NOT notice? This says much about my unassuming Oldest Son and his priorities. Love Him. 

Recall the boys are doing their own laundry and putting away their clothes with a primary objective being that they will keep up with their own items of clothing better. Obviously that goal is not going quite as I had hoped. However, we did get a much needed good laugh today!

Thank goodness Oldest Son had a belt! Commuter Husband will be getting these back now ...

Teen Boys Mismanagement of Clothing

Oldest Son's laundry receptacle. He does pretty good job getting dirty clothes actually into the container versus the floor.

PROBLEM

"I'm Done." Mommy with Commuter Husband (me) said with finality.

The topic prompting the declaration (this time) was "Teen Boys Mismanagement of Clothing." The offenses took on several variations and include but are not limited to:

• Usual and customary is the lost clothing item which is typically a jacket but could be other things too.  

• Missing clothing that we KNOW is in our house but cannot find when needed. Of course, this is frequently some vital sports accessory so we are sent into a search frenzy ten minutes before walking out the door to the targeted sports event.

• More often than not, I find an article of clothing belonging to one of the boys in their school's embarrassingly huge pile of abandoned clothing put into parent view on conference days.

• And there is the random bag find which means we have found clothing in some backpack or suitcase that was left there since goodness knows when!

• A recent development is that the four people in our house wear similar sizes in certain types of clothing. Thus our closets and drawers often contain misplaced apparel. The weekly housekeeper, that we are fortunate to employ, tries to determine the right person but she cannot possibly know. Commuter Husband also seems challenged in figuring out what belongs to whom. My pleas to the boys to return items to the proper owner when found go ignored.

• One teen, not to be specifically identified, seems to wear three times as many clothes as the rest of us creating surplus washing.

SOLUTION

For years and years and years .... we have utilized financial consequences as well as rewards to encourage or punishments to ... well ... punish.

At this point, it was clear that a different approach was required.

Oldest Son and Youngest Son are now doing their own laundry every weekend. They first gather then separate into colors followed by spraying the stains. The washing stage includes detergent and fabric softener and bleach if needed. Drying requires determining what to hang dry (almost everything!) and what goes in the dryer (not much.) The final step is putting away their own clothes in the appropriate places in their rooms.

Youngest Son's laundry basket number one. So why is his stinky soccer uniform on the tile floor two feet away?!??

Youngest Son's laundry basket number two (yes he has two.) Similar results in that dirty clothes are all about ...

RESULTS (So Far)

We are about one month into this paradigm.

"I hate doing laundry!" has been heard to echo through the house once or twice. Who doesn't?

Even so, we are pleased with the outcomes so far. Some of the household work distribution has shifted from parent to child - whoop! The boys are doing a great job and willingly accomplishing their laundry tasks each week. Nothing has been ruined in the laundry ... yet. There has been almost zero confusion about where clothes are or are not. And Oldest Son and Youngest Son are learning a valuable life skill.

The dreaded Laundry Room.

I am a total weirdo about hanging clothes to dry. Oldest Son and Youngest Son are stuck doing it my way ... for now. 

Flawed

The artist of this painting is my friend Susan Sanders. I love it and it speaks to me.

I am not a poet ... just a person with words ...

Flawed. I feel flawed.
All the time. Well lots of the time.
Churning and moving
The thoughts never stop.

Self-inflicted. It is almost funny.
Escapes routes are devised. None really real, so it seems.
Fleeting and hopeful
The attempts never end.

Tortured. Not really the adjective that comes to mind.
Few see under the outside. We are really good at that.
Hidden and in full view
Every day life is the obstacle.

Love. And there is that.
It saves the day. It is always there.
Encompassing and ever-present
This word is the safety net.

Unconditional. Thank you for it.
Some have the gift. Eventually it appears to be the only one that matters.
Admirable and precious
The fortunate to give and to receive.