by Richmond Mom Tina Pollard, blog http://www.tina-pollard.blogspot.com/
Last week my youngest son, Tyler, came into my room and asked if he could go to the beach with some friends after graduation. Now, it’s not HIS graduation – that’s not until next year. This trip would be with friends who graduated this year. In my heart, I wanted to say, “Yes”. To be honest, my first instinct with anything the kids have ever asked is to say yes. I actually have to talk myself out of caving to their desires. As much as I want them to do all the things they want, sometimes it’s the wrong thing to do.
Instead of giving Tyler a definitive answer right away (THIS was where I messed up), I asked him questions. Who was going? Where was everyone staying? Would there be adults (meaning parents, not 18 year olds)? How did he plan to pay for it? Did he really think it was a good idea to go this year?
Of course Tyler was ready with all the right answers, but I didn’t feel good about it and told him this. “Tyler,” I said, “I just don’t think you should go. We’ve faced too many trust issues with you lately and I just can’t, in good conscience, say go. You’re going to have to wait until next year when you graduate.”
“Mumma,” he reasoned. “This is going to be my ONLY vacation this year. I’m going to be working all summer and I think I deserve to take this one week and go have fun.”
“You’re going to Nags Head for a week in July,” I said. “This is not your only vacation.”
“You just don’t understand,” he said. “You never do anything but sit on your bed. You never go anywhere or do anything, so I don’t expect you to understand that I like to get out of the house and go places. Going to Nags Head is a family trip. It’s not the same thing.”
OK, I got my feelings hurt. He just cut right to the quick with the whole comment about how I never do anything but sit on my bed. Just to give you some clarification on what he’s referring to, I do sit on my bed all the time. This is where I hang out. I’m sitting there right now typing this article. When I was younger and spent my summers with my grandparents, I developed the habit of hanging out in bed. My grandma’s bedroom had two beds and during the summer, the big bed belonged to me and Grandma and the smaller bed was Grandpa’s (it never occurred to me that they actually shared a bed when I wasn’t there). We would get up early in the morning and after eating breakfast we would head out to the fields to work in the garden. When it got hot, we went to the bedroom and relaxed. This is where I learned to love reading. This is where I learned to pray. This is where Grandma would bring me chocolate pudding, ham sandwiches, and bottles of coke. This is where I watched The Price is Right, it’s where I wrote letters back home to my mom and my best friend, Karen. It’s where Grandma would tell me stories that made me laugh and where Grandpa would tell me that I’m his favorite little girl in the world (he also told my cousin this, but we didn’t care). It’s where the only air conditioning unit was in the house.
For my entire adult life, I have spent a lot of time sitting on my bed. I’ve always had a king-sized bed because I needed room for all the kids to pile in here with me. My bed is where I have snuggled the kids together during bad thunderstorms. It’s where I’ve read them a ton of books. It’s been used as a kitchen table where many meals have been shared on our laps (and lots of crumbs under the covers). It’s the place where my daughter comes to lay her head on my lap so that I will rub her head while she tells me about life in her adult world. It’s where we have spent cold Christmas mornings opening presents under the blankets. I’ve never thought it was strange, but now, this very special place that I have spent so much time loving my children was being tossed back at me in a hurtful way. I wanted to cry, but instead, I retaliated harshly.
“Oh…so I spend all my time sitting in bed, huh?” I started. “In case you haven’t noticed, the dirty clothes in your hamper are never there for more than 24 hours. When you come home from school, your bed is always made and I am CERTAIN that you didn’t do it. Have you EVER been asked to wash a single dish or to even remove the dishes from your room? Did you know that it’s me who picks up your wet towel in the bathroom EVERY SINGLE DAY? No, Tyler, I’m not a world traveler. I do not go on lavish vacations. I chose a different path for my life. I like being at home. This is my favorite place in the world. But if I COULD go places and could afford to do all the things I want to do, I’d be in Montana right now SITTING ON MY BED inside of my log cabin, looking out across the mountains.”
“Mumma…Mom…” he interrupted.
“No, you listen to me,” I said. “You do so many wonderful things, Tyler. SO MANY. You are an amazing young man who is probably smarter than anyone I know. You work really hard. If I ask you to take out the trash or cut the grass, you do it. I never have to ask twice. You are great about calling me so that I don’t worry about you. But you are still growing up and you have a lot to learn. For some reason you still sneak and do things you shouldn’t do. You were irresponsible with my car and wrecked it. You haven’t finished paying for that damage, yet you want to take money and go on a vacation because you think you deserve it. You DON’T deserve it. Spending 7 hours a day in high school does not equal deserving a vacation to the beach. It means that you went to school and were GIVEN the privilege to do so. Your choices this year that caused a couple of days suspension for having your cell phone, and a couple of days in-school suspension for not following other rules is unacceptable. If you pulled those stunts in the working world, you’d have been fired. NEXT year when you have completed ALL required years of high school and have been accepted to college, then MAYBE you will deserve a vacation of your choosing.”
“I’m sorry, Mumma.” Tyler said, head hanging low. “I didn’t mean…”
I know he didn’t mean anything by it. In my heart, I know my child and he would never say anything to hurt me intentionally. Because I was hurt, I took a small statement and turned it into a monumental event. I was sorry too and I said so. He needed to accept my decision, but didn’t need to remind him of every mistake he’s ever made. I wouldn’t want someone to do that me.
Like me, and everyone else who has been a teenager, we have all said things to our parents because we wanted to so badly to get our way. Unfortunately these things have a way of blowing up.
Later that night I was talking to my husband about it. David shared this story with me. When he was a teenager he was riding with his mom to the store and he asked her if he could go to the beach with friends. She told him no. She wasn’t like me and tried to find a reason to say yes. Her first response to every question was no and she reserved the right to change her mind later. He begged and pleaded with her all the way down the road and could not get her to budge on her decision. When they arrived at the store, David decided to stay in the car and pout. As his mom began walking toward the store, in his anger David yelled out, “B*&$@*”! As soon as it left his mouth, his mom stopped in her tracks and slowly turned back toward the car. He could not believe she heard him. In a moment of total panic, David met her glare and then quickly reached around and locked all of the doors.
He said that for ten minutes his mom shook the car by the door handle threatening to beat the tar out of him. Over and over he yelled through the window, “I’m sorry, Mamma!” She finally went into the store and when she returned, he’d unlocked the doors and waited to see what would happen. She never mentioned the incident and that hurt worse than if she’d given him a good smack. David said that never again did he dare to say anything hurtful toward his mom. Not just because he thought she would kill him but because it was the most hurtful thing he’d ever done and he couldn’t stand to see that look of pain on her face.
Tyler’s friends left for the beach on Saturday morning. Even if it’s not true, he told me that he was glad he stayed home. “I need to pay my bills first. It’s the right thing to do.”
