Breaking The Cycle

Tomorrow my baby starts High School. He starts High School. Nathan is starting High School. It doesn't matter how I say it, or how many times I say it, I just can't believe it. I can remember holding his hand when we crossed the street. Rocking him to sleep at night. Walking him into pre-school for the first time. The first time he said "ma-ma". Watching him sleep when he was a baby. Kissing the tears away when he fell down and skinned his knee. Putting together his tricycle. How did he grow up so fast?

I'm met with mixed emotions. I'm excited for him, I'm scared for him, I'm scared for me. High School for me was the beginning of a downward slide of bad choices. I'm terrified that my son will make the same mistakes. He will be met with new freedom that he's never experienced before. He will be mixed in with kids that are 2, 3 and 4 years older than he is. Kids that have made certain choices about sex, alcohol, drugs, or cigarettes that I don't want him choosing.

So I'm presented with the question; Have I done enough to prepare him? The answer is no, because no matter what, you can always do more. I could have had more talks with him. I could have stressed the importance of staying in school even more than I already have. I could have told him how proud I am of him even more often than I have. I could have also locked him in the basement and lost the key until he's about 25... wait, I might still have time for that one! I have never been so afraid in my entire life.

Nathans father and I both left high school before we finished. We also both eventually went back and got diplomas after the fact, but that is not something that I deem acceptable for our son. We also got pregnant just out of high school. That is ABSOLUTELY not ok for Nathan to do. Nathan is going to do things differently. The cycle ends here. I screwed a lot of things up for myself and it made my journey a lot harder than it needed to be. I will not let him do the same.

I have heard a lot over the last several years from members of my family that I am "too hard" on Nathan. I don't agree. My family was not hard enough on me. I'm in no way blaming them for the mistakes that I made, however I do believe that I made some of those decisions because I knew I would get away with it. My son should know that he won't. I look at him in the same way that I'm sure my mom looked at me when I was starting high school. He has so much promise. He's smart and funny and sweet and loving. Sometimes I can't believe that even through all of the parental mistakes I've made over the years, he has still turned into such an amazing young man.

So now I wait. I wait and hope that everything that I've taught him up until now will stick with him, and I will continue to stress the importance of making good choices and hope that somehow I get through to him. I have a feeling I will spend a good part of the next four years holding my breath, with my fingers crossed, while praying... feel free to join me.

Finding Security

I've always been fairly independent. More on the "leader" side than the side of "follower". My mother taught me well. She raised my sister and I for the majority of our lives without any help and made it look easy, although I know it wasn't. I always thought that independence was a good thing, and in a lot of ways it is. I've been raised to know how to do things that usually fall into the category of male responsibility. I can replace the inner workings of a toilet, I know how to shut off the water valve in case of a leak, put up weather stripping, change a flat tire, check my oil, and I'm pretty handy with a hammer and nail. I have proudly stated dozens of times over the course of the last 10 or so years that I didn't "need" a man and that I could take care of myself. This is still true to a certain degree, but something has shifted.

I can remember telling my husband in the very early stages of our relationship that even though I loved him, I would never "need" him. The thought of it makes me cringe now. What a horrible thing to say. What I was trying to communicate was that I wasn't needy, that I wasn't looking for a caretaker, I was looking for a partner. I didn't communicate it very well at all. I can't even imagine what it probably felt like for him to hear me say that, and I'm sure that he'll never admit it, but it probably hurt his feelings.

The truth is, I don't NEED him in the literal sense. I would survive if I didn't have him. But all literal definitions aside, I really do need him. I need him for the support he gives me. I need him to help me raise our daughter. I need him to reassure me when I'm feeling unsure. I need him to be by my side and most of all, I need him to love me. He provides me with something that no one else has been able to give me. Security. I know that no matter what happens I will always have someone on my side. No matter how badly I screw something up I know that he will stand by me.

I hope that he knows that I was wrong when I said I'd never need him. I hope he knows that I've never counted on someone as much as I do him, and that I never even trusted anyone enough to be able to count on them. I also hope that I've provided him with some sense of security and that he needs me even half as much as I need him.