A month later....it hurts me more than it hurts you.....

So, a month later....I have everything I want.  Mason is stable.  I understand what is going on in the classroom.  I am at peace with it.  I am volunteer at the school again.  Friday am in Mason's class and volunteer Track Coach.  The kids are truly awesome with me.  They are kids, but there are sweet. The endearing things that they do that show love are amazing.  How lucky am I?  These are not throw away kids. They are ours, mine, and I do not shy away from the responsibility.  I coach them, I discipline them, I look side-wise at them, and I praise them.  They are flawed and perfect.  They are young and old spirited.  They are mine until graduation, and then I have to let them go.

This weekend I went away with my friends - women I have been scrap booking with for a few years now.  I have done so much.  We stay at this great place in Leavenworth.  Carol feeds us, we take over the entire B&B, Mike takes care of all the big stuff (and breakfast) and makes us eat too much, but it is wonderful, amazing, and comforting.  We scrapbook, walk, talk, drink coffee (and wine) and shop.  What more could a girl want....

So, this weekend, I was sorting photos from my "Pre-Grant" years.  Literally, birth to 23.  I found some 26 year old ones, but I already scrap booked those, so I guess we never really moved into a house and it was never really empty....remember, "she who scrapbooks rules history".  I got rid of all the duplicate and triplicate photos I had.  I figured out the time period by photo shape and date, etc.  Remember the 110?  I realized the gaps and think I know where to get them.  I also pulled apart a scrapbook of all the ribbons I won for track.  I was good at track.  I was going to toss them, but then I thought, "I actually had to win a race to get these."  My boys join a team and get a trophy for "participation".  Those ribbons meant a lot to me.  I went to state in Summer Track and have EVERYTHING and my ribbons......no trophy.  Someday, I will explain it to Mason and Nolan.  The ribbons defined me.

So, Sunday comes.  It snowed all all night on Saturday.  I got up a couple times and checked with my phone flashlight to the screen - yep, still snowing.  I check the passes.  Snoqualmie - chains required unless you have AWD.  Crap.  I have all that, but that is not a good sign.  Grant is scanning the passes - my little weatherman.  I am the driver of two other women.  I take that seriously....I actually like them.  By the time we leave, all is well.  Passes are clear, no restrictions, go NOW.  We do.  I drop them and Mason's Playoff game is at 2:25.  The game before the championship - single elimination.

The plan was that I go by the house because Grant and Mason already are at the rink, pick up Nolan, and come to the game.  My parents would already be there.  What is the saying, "Plans best laid..."

I call Nolan three times at home.  No answer all three times.  I text Grant and ask him if he reminded Nolan to have the phone near him while he was gone.  Response, "No, I just told him to call you if he needed sometime."  GREAT.  I drop off both passengers.  I go through the car wash because the truck was GROSS.  I wipe down the bad parts, I call Nolan again.  No answer. .....pause....So, here is the deal....when we leave Nolan alone which is for SHORT periods of time.....he puts on his headphones and plays on his iPad.  I have complained, "disciplined", and "discussed" this with him more than a few times.  "When you are alone you need to be MORE vigilant, MORE aware, MORE careful."  Apparently, nothing stuck.  So, I stop by home.  I call Nolan's name 20 times.....and come on....my voice carries.  NOTHING.  So, I drop my things, grab the cushions for hockey and go.  I AM DONE.  I arrive at hockey.  My parents are there and they are all happy to see me and say, "Where is Nolan?"  I reply, "At home, I guess.  He is not responding to anything and doesn't care to be part of the family, so I am done."  My parents are dumbfounded.......  Wha?!?!?!  She left him at home?!?!?  REMEMBER....our rink is less than a mile from our house.  My Dad is like, "What?!?!?!  Is he sick?!?!?"  "Nope."  Mom is catching on, but like, "I can go get him."  I responded with, "YOU WILL NOT.  He has chosen not to be here.....he will be there."  Mom replies, "So, you saw him and he is fine."  "NOPE.  And if he is not, I am the worst parent ever, but I am putting my money on headphones and iPad."  Concerned looks from Grandma AND Grandpa and, "You are mean." from Grandpa.  All the while I am thinking, "No, I am just channeling Virginia (his mom) and dealing with YOUR DNA."  Then my phone blows up......Nolan is calling again and again and again and again.  My Mom is like, "Are you going to answer it?"  "NOPE."  And then she looks at me.....she LOVES Nolan and I am like, "I will answer when he is good and scared."  This somewhat relieves her which is a little disturbing, but she was a parent too.  So, I call after his four calls and he says, "Hi Mommy, where are you?!?!" "At the rink."  pause  "Oh.  Are you coming to get me?"  pause  I say, "So, now you are ready to talk to me?!?!?!  I called you four times."  pause  "I didn't hear you."  "Really?!?!?! Have we not discussed this?!?!"  "Yes."  "And what are you suppose to do......yadda yadda yadda....and it all becomes clear that he did not do anything he was suppose to and did everything he wanted to......  "Yeah, well, here is the thing Nolan.  Your responsibility is here... at the rink with your brother and you had so many opportunities to come here that I do not care anymore.  So, get on you bike with your helmet and be here in 10 mins.  NO ONE IS COMING TO GET YOU."  "Okay, Mommy, so you want me to bike?"  "Yes, Nolan.  If you are part of this family and you had three chances to get here and you ignored all of them and now you want to be part of it, GET YOUR HELMET ON, GET YOU LOCK, AND GET HERE.  And, by the way, when your mama calls you, you answer....period....because I can ignore you longer than you think."  "Okay, mama." .....pause.... and part of me died.  My Dad said, "Wow, you are mean."  I did not respond, but I thought you taught me that bears run there young up a tree and walk away.  How hard is that?!??!  I am raising a man, not a boy.  He will lead a family someday, and, hopeful respect his wife and daughters.  I probably will not be around for that, but I must prepare him for that.  God gave me this time - I have to use it.  So, I hold firm.  My mom is supporting me, but worried.  Dad just thinks I am mean and everyone around me probably thinks I am a bitch.  Ten minutes go by and I say to my Mom, "I will go see if he if having problems chaining his bike."  I leave and I meet him in the rink.  He is near tears.  I open my arms.  He shakes his head.  He says hello to grandparents and sits next to me.  And slowly, ever so slowly, we talk.  "I don't think I will use my headphones anymore."  "That sounds good.  I missed cuddling with you."  "I am sorry I missed your call."  "Me too.  I was worried."  "I am sorry."  "Me too baby, I missed you, did you miss me?!?!"  And there is was, the twinkle in his eye.....my Dad's twinkle.....so I tickled him until he said he missed me and we were back.  Later he said, "No more headphones."  And I said, "Thank you."

It hurts me more than it hurts you.....but I have to do it and I know you may be too young.....I am so sorry, but I am raising a man, not a boy.......I only have so much time.....I love you more than you know......

Love, Ang