I enrolled him in our local public school and placed him in an afternoon treatment program. That was his first time. He has since gone through an intensive outpatient program. Ding, ding, ding round two. He smoked pot the same Friday he was released the first time. The second we were granted a month reprieve from the behavior and acting out. He is presently failing 2 of his best subjects, not because he is not capable, he used to be an A-B student. He chooses not to do his homework.
Who’s to blame? What’s to blame? Can blame even be found? Questions I have asked myself repeatedly for over a year now. I am getting over that phase of it. The blame game. My son’s favorite game at present. Convincing him that he needs to take responsibility for his actions falls on deaf ears. He is blind to this fact. Reality tells me that he has to learn this on his own. Painful admission at best. The Mom in me desperately longs to fix it. Common sense tells me this is a valuable lesson. He can learn through his experience. A truth, a bit more painful to accept.
My son is sixteen. He teeters on the edge of adulthood. Ready or not here it comes. He has said that he can handle this on his own. I have done a lot for him. He says he is not smoking anymore. I have a tutor in place.My son doesn’t like him. Counselor at the ready. He won’t open up. Regardless of anything, still wonder if I need to do more. Is it out of my hands? is this a phase? As my grandma used to say, “Let go and let God.” Can I let this go? Will I lose him in the process? I am torn. I sit in my own truth.
I am in the middle of a divorce, struggling to find my way through to singleness, after 21 years. I know I have made a sound decision. I am reminded by the discord that looms between this stranger, who is myself and a soon to be ex. Would the situation be different for him if our history were different? I am unsure. We all hold some responsibility. But that does not exonerate my son. He needs to be held accountable for his actions.
I have never been Mom of the year. I drive a red minivan but that doesn’t mean I am a soccer Mom. I do not always control my temper or speak in a soft voice, and patience is not my strong point. No excuses, just truths. I am far from perfect. I try my damndest regardless of circumstance. In other words I am doing as best I can.
So I believe this is the point at which I need to take a leap of faith. To muster up enough strength to trust my soon to be adult. To give him some breathing room, space between Mother and Son. Lay off him awhile and see if he steps up. I need some room to grow now and time to breath again, almost as much as him. It is in the letting go that we gain freedom and perspective to move forward.
When my eldest child was little and got discouraged or frustrated I used to sing him a song that I made up after reading “The Little Engine that Could”. I am not sure he even remembers it. But it is high time I sing it to myself as I step into a new phase of my life.
“If you say you can you can
If you say you can’t you can’t
I think I can
I think I can
I can, I can, I can”