About A Boy

I ran into Jesse's teacher at the grocery store the other day. I had missed parent teacher conferences with sick kids, so I asked if he had a minute. He went on to tell me so many awesome things about this son of mine that they had to use a crowbar to get my head through the door on the way out. ;) Hey, when a teacher you really respect, one of the GOOD ONES, uses words like "Brilliant" and "Incredibly bright" about your child, it happens. He couldnt say enough good things about Jesse, his character, his personality, his intelligence, and his heart. He really LIKES him, and he tells me that the teaching team all feel the same way. He even told me that they will be starting a Gifted and Talented program next year, and that that came about, in part, because they wanted to be better able to suit the needs of my son and several of his classmates...one who I am SURE is a genius. This other kid, Adam, is THE kid, smart, gregarious, very cute, athletic...he seems to have it all. Jesse often feels "dumb" around Adam. I think this G&T class will help him realise just HOW bright he is. It is surely an honor to be chosen for it, right? It warms my heart to hear from teachers that my middle child is a GREAT writer, a deep thinker. The boy will show up his momma someday, I have no doubt. People say I am a good writer. Wait till you meet my son. If I can only keep his head on straight through High School (and we have a HORRIBLE HS, it isnt OUR HS it is in the next town and we bus kids in) and keep him believing in himself, just maybe he will go on to do incredible things. He wears his heart on his sleeve, and he worries me, but God I love this boy.

Life lessons

Jim and I had a date last night, we went out for dinner and also checked out the casino. Neither of us are big on gambling, but every year or so, we take a ride and give it a whirl. We generally have NO clue what we are doing, just push the button, pull the handle...hope to hear bells and whistles go off. (For the record...no bells no whistles.) Kristin watched Jesse & Ciarra while we were gone, which was very nice. She is 19 today, grown up into a very intelligent and funny young lady.

Kristin's friend Davey came over to hang out, too, he and Jesse play Guitar Hero till their fingers hurt. Ciarra is pretty independent, she usually watches movies or colors, or plays PS2 in her room. Last night, she was snuggled up with Davey on the couch watching Titanic with them. We got home towards the end of the movie, were Rose uses an axe to free Jack from the pole. I watched her watch that, cringed a little (we dont shelter her, we just..dont....expose her to grownup moveis much..ok maybe we shelter her a little, shes awfully innocent yet) She took the axe part fine, and I watched her watching the movie, kind of curious how she would handle it. It isnt brutal, graphic, or bloody. But there is a lot of death, a lot of high emotion. How would she handle it?

She was fine till the very end of the movie. She asked a few questions, why did that big boat break apart? Did all the people who fell off it die? But those people were nameless, faceless. She seemed to be rooting for Jack and Rose. When the had gone under with the ship, she excitedly called out "Jack! Come up, Rose is right there." She was relieved to see him pop up. She said "good" when Jack put Rose on the board and held her hands. But she got increasingly worried as their faces turned blue and Jack started shaking uncontrollably. I looked at her, and saw tears welling in her eyes. She asked me "Is that real, Mom?" How do you explain that those are actors, but that the story is real, and that many real people died that day? She was very sad, but you could tell she was still intently watching to see the heroe make it through. In Ciarra's world, the good guys always win. Zack and Cody always find a way out of trouble, SpongeBob & Patrick make it through their misadventures. They all live happily ever after in the stories she knows. But not in this one, and this one is so real that it made her think about her own life, her own loves, and losing them.




As Jack slipped under water, she said "Mom, why is Jack falling under the water?" I explained that he was too cold to hold on, and she told me that "Rose should not let go of his hands." I had to explain that Rose let go because Jack had died, and she needed to save herself. Ciarra turned back to watch and snuggled in a little tighter, grabbing my hand and gripping it hard. :( She asked me if Jack would go to Heaven when he died, and I told her yes. I told her that everyone goes to Hevaen someday, that we see the people we love again after we die. She said that her family was not going to die, not ever. I told her gently that everybody dies, that as long as we believed, we would be together again. She looked up at me with big tears streaking her face. And then quietly turned back to the movie.




Rose was old now, and talking to some folks about jack, the boat sinking, and her life. Ciarra had a hard time understanding that that really WAS Rose, and that she was old now. More questions. Why was Rose old, why was she a grandma now (Grandma being anyone who is old and gray) I told her that everyone gets older, that I would be old and a Grandma someday too. Bad answer, Mom. She burst out crying, and told me "No, you stay my mom, forever, you stay you here with me". I guess I am a bad mom, cause I lied to my girl, I told her I would stay this way forever, and be her mom, and not get old. I did explain that she is the same girl she was when she was a baby, just older. She said no, she was not getting old, either, she was going to stay just Ciarra. I knew that this movie was too much for her, too grown up and way too full of loss. When Rose died in her room, I told Ciarra that she was going to Heaven, and that Jack would be there, and they would be happy together again. I have never really paid attention to this movie before, but I was relieved to see them show a youthful Rose running into Jack's arms surrounded by all of the Titanic passengers. It was enough to stop the tears and quell the questions. But still, she clung to my hand, kissed my cheek, and told me that "we arent going to get old, are we mum?" We can talk about that another time, baby girl.

the changing moments

I was thinking today about the moments in my life that have impacted me the most, changed my direction one way or another. I imagine myself, halfway through my life, as a roaring stream rushing over rapids. The rocks that form the rapids are the trials and tribulations of my life. Their sharp edges and dangerous currents are smoothed and softened by the strength of me. At this time in my life, I allow gravity to lead me to my resting place, and I follow along where it takes me. But still, I am strong and powerful, and I leave my mark.

I am not detoured by the undercurrents, just jostled around a bit. My path is fairly clear, it lays before me invitingly, calm and serene, some lake...somewhere out there...waiting for me to join it's calmness and rest gently amongst the trees and rocks of its banks.

It is amazing to me in some ways that I can even see that place, off in the future. It has not always looked so clear to me. Certainly, the beginings of my journey were much more turbulent and rocky.

Although I started out just a trickle of a stream, a joining of two of life's forgotten people, the culmination of a love that would not last, I have managed to make my way here, to this place of relative stability. In retrospect, they each threw their share of stones and boulders into my path, even before I was born. Poverty, hatred, alcoholism, drug abuse, imprisonment. I spent much of my early life looking at all of the neighboring brooks as they babbled happily along, nurtured and fed so fully, wondering what I had done wrong to be needing to strike out on my own carving my own way, alone in the wilderness. At every turn, another pebble broke the surface, divorce, loss, anger, overwhelming grief. And still I gained in strength, at every fork I gathered and forged on. I managed to gain a hold in the earth and grip it for all I was worth, and I left my mark in many places. I even managed to foster three new little brooks of my own, each branching off to their destinations hopefully, joyously, well-fed and nurtured. I came from nothing, I may never be anything that mattered. But I will have fought hard to get where I am, fought hard to overcome a rotten start. My children will never look back and say I put myself first, or loved them anything less than with all of me.

I am tired now. I wish for the stones and twigs and clay beneath me to soften their grip and allow me a more peaceful path to the finish line. I am tired of fighting the current. I have hurtled the hills and I long for the valleys. I take stock of those around me who are ready to slow down, too. I am happy to see that some have made the trip in one piece, and some new faces have even joined me on my travels. The lake is ahead, the rapids are slowing, the fight is going out of me. Peace, placidity, the reverance of calm waters, are ahead. I am ready to be enveloped by them, swallowed whole, taken in. Ready.

Emoticons in the new world order

There are currently FOUR computers in my home, of the desktop/laptop variety. Each is wireless and online. In addition, there is a wireless receiver on the big-ass plasma tv in the living room, an xbox360 that is online and constantly communicating with xbox live. Jesse has a PSP which is also wireless. That, my friends, is a LOT of technology for one small 4 bedroom, 2 bath house. Sometimes it is awesome, we can all be doing "our thing" and not standing in line. It is great for homework, for instance. But it does tend to keep us all occupied seperately, which can be a little weird. Even when company comes over, we sometimes find ourselves sitting at the idiot boxes, typing away, even messaging one another from 30 feet away. The lure of the internet and the speed and capability of computers is a tough habit to break.
Certainly, we do find time to be a family, and when friends come over, we still do "old-fashioned" stuff, too. We BBQ, bake cookies, play outside, all that. But without a doubt, this wired house beckons us to sit down and get lost in the online world, sometimes to the detriment of the real world.

But there is hope. This morning, Dad has gone to Home Depot (building project, oh my, kids bathroom sprung a leak, rotted the floor, and generally needs updating...BADLY!) Kristin is at work, Ciarra is reading in her room, and Jesse and I are home and awake. Laundry's all done, and well, while Daddy's away the mice like to play...online. ;) But it struck me that here was the son I adore, in the next room, tapping away. No doubt, he is building his next Halo 3 website, or learning about HTML coding. The kids a whiz, I tell ya. But there it was, his yahoo messenger name popped up, notifying me he was online. And it sat there at the bottom of my screen, and called to me. "Hey Mom, here I am." Just a little smiley face icon, no words typed. Comforting and disturbing all at once. And so I opened the messenger box and began typing away. No words, at first. Just emoticons. A series of emoticons, meant to say "hello, son, I love you."

michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:09:57 AM)




Jesse (8/19/2007 10:10:09 AM): ...




michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:10:14 AM)




Jesse (8/19/2007 10:10:19 AM)




Why sad? I wondered. Of course, being a preteen, I figured he was mostly sad his mom was harrassing him on a quiet Sunday morning. And so, like all moms, I teased him more...




michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:10:25 AM)




No reply. Hmmm, he isnt used to Yahoo, is he just wondering wth Im doing? Lets ask him. Wordlessly, of course.



michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:10:52 AM))




Finally, a response!



Jesse (8/19/2007 10:11:04 AM): what are you doing?



Let's start this over again, and see if he gets it...



michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:11:08 AM) )



michelle harmon (8/19/2007 10:11:12 AM)



And he does. He gets up, walks into my office with a big grin on his face, hands outstretched, questioning but understanding all at once. "What are you doing?" he asks, as he leans in low and plants a kiss on my waiting cheek. "Waiting for this." I reply.

So few words necessary, so much love shown. Maybe emoticons are the wave of the future for conversationally-imapired parent-child relationships? He is back at his computer now, and I am headed to the shower. But he knows that in this technological word, his mom sure does

him.