The Procrastinator

I don't know why, but I've put off mailing in my papers requesting an increase in funds from the ex,to the


Child Support Enforcement Agency.

I filled them out almost a month ago, and noticed at that time the return envelope they provided seemed way to small for the stack of papers I'd been asked to complete and return. I also wanted to write a short note to the case worker explaining a couple items on the forms.

For those two very small reasons, I put the papers back on my "to do" list and didn't get them back out until this morning.

In my own self defense, I should add that the hearing concerning my case won't be held until June 28, which is also the date the papers are due in. I found that a little odd. It took the Child Support Enforcement Agency four weeks to get the papers to me after I first requested them. After that, they gave me (and the ex) six weeks to fill them out and send them back in.

Once they finish reviewing the information and determine if there will be a change in support, it will be another four weeks before the changes take effect.

I did the math .. By the time this is over, I will have waited fourteen weeks for the increase I requested (if they decide I qualify) yet from what I can tell, they will have spent about 20 minutes total plugging in my numbers vs. the ex's numbers to come up with a decision.

Whew!

No wonder I put it off. It probably took me almost that long just to cram all those papers into the envelope!

I'm trusting all my efforts will pay off and I'll be rewarded with some financial help from Adam's father. I have a stack of medical bills from the kid's hospitalization and numerous E.R. visits last year, none of which I've had any assistance with from the ex.

I can only hope ... and pray I manage to walk these papers out to the mailbox sometime within the next week!

Becky Taylor
6-16-2010
Bold New Day! LLC
Personal Development Coaching for Women
http://www.boldnewday.com
http://www.beckyjtaylor.com

I Love My Son

I love my son.

I love my son.

Really. I do love my son.

Some days, it's the sole reason I let him live.

Adam David, or "the boy" as we fondly refer to him, was born fifteen and half years ago. He was very much wanted and a welcomed ray of sunshine during what was then a rather dark time of my life.

My! How things change!

Don't get me wrong. As I clearly stated, I love my son tremendously. It's just that he seems to like nothing more than to find my last nerve and jump on it. If it's not one thing, it's another. Every day's a new day and another "adventure".

Maybe I'm just not as "adventurous" as I use to be. Maybe I'm just getting weary in my old age and not as tolerant as I once was.

Or maybe I'm right when I say the boy goes out of his way to try to push me over the edge.

Adam has a new girlfriend. That right there is enough cause for alarm, in my opinion. I've never met the girl, but he says she's really nice. She use to go to his school. She's blond ... and oh! Her name is "Becky". (That's somehow meant to make me feel better)

She's also older than him and has a car.

(Breathe Mama! Breathe!)

Last night the boy announced his weekend plans to me. Yes, I said he "announced" (not "asked") He said Becky would be driving him home from school today, where they would hang out and watch a movie together. Then, tomorrow they were planning to go to a concert in a town a good thirty miles from here, after which he would spend the night with his friend, Zach. (Not the "Zach" who lives near us, this is another "Zach" whom I've never actually met.)

Uh-huh.

I ran to the mirror to see if someone had scrawled "STUPID" across my forehead without my knowledge, because clearly my son was under the impression I'd approve of his weekend plans without an inkling of apprehension.

"ButMom, youdontunderstand, thismeansalottome. Justtrustme. PLEASE?!"

I trust Adam (sort of) ... at least as much as a mother could trust a fifteen and a half year old boy who is now "dating" a girl I've never met who happens to drive. I do, however, have some problem trusting this older girl I've never met, who will "date" a fifteen and a half year old boy. I also have trouble trusting these friends I've never met who live in this far away town.

I can't help but think that sweet smelling bundle of joy that was handed to me on July 17,1994 should have come with a warning label.

I tossed and turned last night, in anticipation of the argument that would surely ensue this morning when I reminded the boy that, while I would allow his new girlfriend to come to the house and watch a movie with him after school, I would not allow him to carry out any of his other plans this weekend.

No concert. No staying all night at the home of a friend I've never met.

But my worries were all in vain. As soon as Adam came bounding down the stairs this morning he announced that he'd made new plans. Plans he was sure I'd like better.

Becky is still picking him up after school today. They are still going to stop and rent a movie.

And then, they are going to her house to watch it.

But it's ok! Her parents (whom I've also never met) are going to be home.

"C'monMom,Justtrustme, Pleeeeeease?!"

It was back to the mirror again for me. Sure enough, my forehead remains clean and free of any labels that would indicate a lack of motherly wisdom.

To Adam's dismay we are back to the original plans. This girl I've never met, named Becky, will bring Adam home from school and they will watch a movie here within the confines of our own four walls ... quite possibly with me sitting between them on the sofa.

It's the least I can do.

Because I love my son.



Becky Taylor
http://www.boldnewday.com

Unwell

I got one of "those" calls from the school today. Adam was once again in the nurses office feeling sick. It was his first day back this week, as he's been down with whatever upper respiratory crud it is that's been making it's rounds lately. I took him to Urgent Care Monday evening, where the doctor took one look in his throat and proclaimed "If his throat were a building, I'd have to condemn it."

(Gotta love medical humor.)

After swabbing his throat and nasal passages for samples which came back negative for both flu and strep, we were handed a prescription for a "Z-Pack" and told to come back if he wasn't better within a couple days.

Which he was, of course. That's why he went to school today.

Well, for half a day anyway.

I picked him up around eleven o'clock this morning and drove him straight to the walk in clinic. This time he was complaining of his knees buckling when he tried to walk, and his mouth drawing to one side.

Scary stuff!

His knees have buckled on a few occasions, but we've thought it was probably because he wasn't getting enough exercise. His mouth drawing involuntarily to one side was pretty alarming, and something I couldn't think of a single "easy" explanation for. So today I decided enough was enough and prepared myself to sit at the clinic for a while.

The clinic doctor took one look at him and announced that he needed to be sent straight to the emergency room. They said they'd call and tell them he was on his way.

At the hospital, the doctor quickly diagnosed him as having a bad reaction to one of the medications he takes regularly for OCD issues. They gave him a shot of something, which magically alleviated his symptoms ... told me to speak to his regular doctor about bringing him down off that particular medicine gradually, monitored him carefully for about an hour ... and sent us home.

Perhaps that doesn't sound like much of an ordeal to the casual bystander, but frankly I am exhausted of all this stuff! I stop short of saying it was the proverbial "straw that broke the camel's back" but it was at least "one more thing" I really didn't need to have to deal with right now.

The thoughts that crossed my mind as I sat there looking at my handsome, lanky, fifteen year old son perched on the exam table, included (but were not limited to)

a) Why God, have You not healed this child of these afflictions?

b) How in Heaven's name am I going to pay for yet another hospital bill?

c) Who is going to pick him up from school when this sort of thing happens once I go back to work outside the house? (which I am about to have to do)

and d) Oh how I wish my mother were still alive!

... nobody else could possibly care about all I am going through with Adam like she would have. The whole time I sat there at the hospital, it felt very much like "me and the boy" against the world, just like it's been for most of his life.

Once Adam was discharged, we were escorted to the financial consultation offices where an elderly man explained that our insurance deductible was $150.00 and of course was expected to be paid in full before we left.

After which I immediately explained back that I had no money to pay today. Actually, that's the biggest reason I didn't go straight to E.R. to begin with. The co-pay for Urgent Care is $20.00, vs. the $150.00 for E.R. BIG difference, so I really hoped Urgent Care could help him instead.

With a sympathetic smile, the elderly gentleman suggested that I pay "half" the deductible today and the rest next week.

I smiled back and explained, "No", I couldn't.

"We take credit cards", he told me.

"I don't have a credit card", I replied.

Then, I added that I'd try to pay the $150.00 within the month.

The sweet old man nodded and said, "That's ok, you can go now"

What else was he going to do, hold Adam for ransom until I was able to cough up the co-pay?

So we left, the boy and I, and headed home. It was nearly 4:00 p.m. and neither of us had eaten. I splurged and stopped at McDonalds to grab a bite. I tried not to think of the 10 bucks I'd "squandered" on fast food. God forbid I spend a dime when we had leftovers in the fridge at home.

Once home, I got on the internet and applied for a few more jobs. I need to come up with some way to finish paying off Adam's existing hospital bills plus this new one ... and I need to do it quickly. I have one offer waiting in the wings but I'm not fond of the location. It's too far from home, and requires working weekends. I'll take it if I have to, but I'd rather not.

I'm really kicking myself for leaving the conventional workplace altogether, right now. Maybe I should have kept that door open just in case I needed it again. Like today, for instance.

Although it may sound like I'm complaining, I'm really not. As I said before I am tired. OK, I'm also rather disappointed to be facing this new set of challenges that lie ahead. I was so very much hoping the year 2010 would be brighter than it's predecessor. So far, that doesn't appear to be the case.

Hope deferred makes the heart sick. I have no clue how much it would cost to fix that ailment.

Sigh

Here's "Unwell" by Matchbox 20

(and the lyrics, in case you want to sing along) :)

All day
Staring at the ceiling
Making friends with shadows on my wall
All night
Hearing voices telling me
That I should get some sleep
Because tomorrow might be good for something
Hold on
I'm feeling like I'm headed for a
Breakdown
I don't know why
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Me
Talking to myself in public
Dodging glances on the train
I know
I know they've all been talking 'bout me
I can hear them whisper
And it makes me think there must be something wrong
With me
Out of all the hours thinking
Somehow
I've lost my mind
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired
I know right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
I been talking in my sleep
Pretty soon they'll come to get me
Yeah, they're taking me away
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell
I know, right now you can't tell
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see
A different side of me
I'm not crazy I'm just a little impaired
I know, right now you don't care
But soon enough you're gonna think of me
And how I used to be
Hey, how I used to be
How I used to be, yeah
Well I'm just a little unwell
How I used to be
How I used to be


Becky J. Taylor
Feb. 10, 2010

Nailing Jello ....

The Fox 5 Atlanta show had an interesting author on this morning. I didn't catch all of the interview, because as usual I was doing other things while "watching" the show.

Anyway, this woman has written a book about raising teenagers. I couldn't help but LOVE the title ... It's called "The Agony and the Agony"

Isn't that great?

From what I could tell, this woman actually knew what she was talking about as she described the perils of parenting teenagers. Let's just say I too, felt her pain.

Best of all, listening to her made me feel better about my own parenting skills, not to mention the teenager I am attempting to parent at the moment. Not that I haven't already realized it a million times over, but I've really been blessed as far as the boy and all his teenage antics go.

Adam is a good, no ... let me make that a GREAT kid.

A GREAT kid who knows exactly how to get on my last nerve and jump up and down until I crack. Argggghhhh! He can argue with the best of 'em, I tell you! He was surely born to be an attorney. Sometimes it seems there's no winning with him at all.

Just last night, he was taking out the trash when he paused to ask, "And just WHY do I have to do this?" (He's been doing it every week since he was ten, geesh and NOW, he asks?)

I explained that he does it because it's one of his chores. To which he, responded ... "And WHY do I have chores?"

One of these days I will learn to keep my mouth shut (maybe), but that day has yet to arrive, so I went on in a feeble attempt to explain that he is learning responsibility by doing chores and carrying his weight around the house.

When I saw that my explanation wasn't going anywhere, I added "It also contributes to your earnings every week?"

"What earnings? When do I get earnings? Where is my money?"

That one had me scratching my head in disbelief. I should have given up and sent him straight to his room (after he got finished taking out the trash, of course) but I didn't. My mouth was already in full gear (gee, wonder where the boy gets it, huh? you might be asking)

"Well, actually you've been spending your earnings every weekend for the last couple months. You go to the movies every Friday night, for example, and then there are the shopping trips you've just HAD to go on, and the money you borrowed from your father and have to pay back ..."

Then do you know what the boy said to me?????

He looked me straight in the eye and said, "Well then, I need a raise because I didn't have enough money at the movies last week, remember?" (I didn't have quite as much cash to hand him as I normally do, so technically I "owed" him seven dollars ... poor kid probably had to "rough it" and skip the sour skiddles at the concession stand, thanks to my oversight)

As a very wise man (or woman) once said, "Raising teenagers is like trying to nail jello to a tree." Maybe it was the same wise woman who was interviewed on Fox 5 Atlanta this morning, I don't know.

What I do know is this, as far as being the mother of a teenage son goes, I've really got it pretty easy. Sometimes I worry about Adam because he spends too much time in his room. On the other hand, I can honestly say that in fourteen years there has never been a time when I didn't know exactly where he was.

I catch myself feeling concerned because he is, (in my opinion) overly sensitive about his girlfriend's feelings and is constantly trying to "help" her with issues in her life. But I realize he has a very strong mercy gift, a real sentimental heart with great compassion for people .. and that is a gift.

So what if at age fourteen his "gift" isn't exactly honed to perfection yet!

One of the greatest blessings came the other night when I called up the stairs to him for something ... probably to tell him to get off the phone and go to bed. He snapped at me, "MOM! WAIT!"

I responded by snapping back and correcting him for speaking harshly to me.

He opened his door and stepped out to the top of the stairs and apologized, then went on to say that I had interrupted him while he was praying.

Praying!

I get aggravated at my son for things like back talking, questioning my authority, arguing, and even snapping at me because I've interrupted his conversation with God! It irks me to no end that my son insists on wearing eyeliner (yes, eyeliner .. because the girls all think it makes his eyes look amazing... and I have to admit they are right) It gets on my nerves that he listens to heavy metal music (Christian lyrics but heavy metal none-the-less, and I can't stand the sound of it!)

His lack of enthusiasm towards his school work makes me want to tear my hair out at times. "But MOM! I don't need to understand Algebra! I'm never going to use it again after I get out of school.

He can't seem to grasp the idea that unless he passes Algebra he won't be getting out of school at all!

God help me!

As frustrating as it gets at times, I know there are a million mothers out there who would give anything to have a kid like mine.

Mothers who don't know where their fourteen year old sons are at night. Mothers who've had to bail their kids out of jail. Mothers who suffer the ultimate loss when their child dies of an overdose, or drunken driving.

I feel absolutely ashamed of myself when I think about it.

Adam will be fine, even better than fine. My son is going to be amazing!

He's a teenager, for sure. He's dealing with becoming an adult, finding his own way in the world, evolving into the person God has called him to be.

The beauty of it is, I know that Adam's personality traits (even the ones that drive me batty) were given to him by God and God knows they will somehow work out to his benefit someday. That is what I have to step back and remind myself of when I catch myself wanting to ground the boy until he's thirty seven years old.

God has great plans for my "imperfect" son, and they are GOOD! That goes a long way towards helping me keep my sanity on those days when I think I'd rather be nailing jello to a tree.

Banished

Adam's girlfriend, MacCayla is visiting today, therefore I have been banished from the media room for the afternoon. The two teenagers are supposedly watching a movie, but the last time I checked, they were on the computer "MySpacing" instead. Meanwhile, the movie is blaring away in full volume surround sound, causing the house to shake on it's foundation.

Not only am I not allowed in the media room but every time I've so much as looked in on the little lovebirds, I've been scolded. Apparently, I'm not allowed anywhere near the foot of the stairs that lead to the hallway that leads to the media room either.

It's a bit confusing being confined to such boundaries within my own home. Perhaps, next time the boy is entertaining a young lady, I should invest in a shock collar and electric fencing so I know just where those boundaries are before I get yelled at.

Shoot! I'm only trying to be helpful. Just a few moments ago I suggested that Adam offer his guest a snack. He obediently came downstairs and opened the pantry, then complained that nothing in there appealed to him.

Innocently, (of course) I suggested that he take a bag of "Funyons" upstairs with him. He replied that he didn't want "Funyons".

"Why not?" I asked, reminding him that "Funyons" are one of his favorite snacks.

"MOM!", he gasped in frustration, "You're just spazzing out today over nothing!" and ran back up the stairs empty handed.

I suppose he didn't quite get that I was joking or at least he didn't find it very funny. Of course I know why he doesn't want to share a bag of "Funyons" with his girlfriend. Geeesh! I may be old, (relatively speaking) but I'm not stupid!

Never-the-less, I am giving the youngins just a little space this afternoon, and I am "humoring" them by staying downstairs (most of the time.)

I'm trying not to break any of the "rules" Adam set for me before MacCayla got here. Although it is difficult, I am resisting the urge to go up there and tell her embarrassing stories about Adam's younger years. Neither will I give in to the desire to pull out his baby pictures.

No. Today I will allow his sense of security to build. Then, next time Miss MacCayla comes to call, I will pull out all the stops! Mwahahahaha!

After all, a mother can only be expected to "behave" for so long.

So Proud!!!

I am so proud of my son.

After school this afternoon, fourteen year old Adam hopped into the car beaming from one ear to the other. It turns out his computer teacher (and the school system's county office) had paid him the "ultimate" compliment today.

He was told he has to STOP hacking into their computer system.

Yep.

Oh! But it's "ok". They've actually been monitoring him for a while and "allowing" him to continue because they were "using" him to help uncover weak spots in their system. Now that they think they've gotten everything secured, they've asked him to refrain from any further similar endeavors.

Why! According to the boy, it's almost like he's been working for them all along.

He went on to explain that he's in no "trouble" whatsoever because he only hacked in to prove that he could. He didn't do any damage. I mean, he could have changed his grades and other really cool stuff like that, but he didn't.

(What a good boy I've raised!)

Then he asked me if I WANTED him to go back in and change his grades. I jokingly told him that would depend of course, on what kind of grades he was getting withOUT hacking in and changing them.

No, No, No! I clarified that under NO circumstances did I want him to go in and change his grades. Furthermore, I wouldn't think that a kid smart enough to hack into the county system should be getting grades low enough to merit needing such a change.

I will surely remember this as one of my finer "motherhood" moments. On my list, it ranks somewhat above the time my oldest daughter, Angel came home and proudly announced that her first grade teacher, Mrs. Burris had moved her desk all the way up to the front of the room. What an honor!

Sort of along the same theme, only Adam's experience was potentially way more serious.

What can I say? My son is a genius!

I'll bet all the mothers whose sons did NOT hack into the county school system's office computers are darn jealous of me right now.

Yep. I'm pretty sure of it.