Family vacation. The very mention sends me into a funk. Not that I don't look forward to vacations. I love to travel, to stay in new places, to eat in different restaurants and cafes, to prowl unfamiliar streets, to poke around in shops. But somehow, maybe because the stakes are too high, because all of us have different expectations, and because my two children seem to revel in the familiar comforts of home and their own beds, every time the four of us go on a vacation it's a semi-disaster!
My husband, Ted, would choose backpacking and hiking in the mountains every time if he could. Nothing better to him than getting dirty out in nature, pushing himself harder each day, sleeping in a tent, and washing his face with cold stream water. But after enough family hikes where the rest of us began whining after the first big hill and threatened never to accompany him again, he's learned that a simple day hike broken up with a gourmet picnic is our idea of a good time.
My daughter, Annie, 13, hates to fly, so she'd opt for something close to home. With a friend along. Actually she might go anywhere with a friend, but preferably someplace with a pool and henna tattoos and pizza. No fancy restaurants, no swimming in the scary ocean, no oh-so-boring museums. Fifteen-year-old Matt would also like to be with a buddy, but he would like to be on his own with his friend, checking out the girls and drinking lots of soda and eating his fill of burgers, burritos, and submarine sandwiches with a chaser of Skittles, unlimited email access and video games. Sure, he'd fit in a little boogie boarding and body surfing but lounging in front of a TV in a luxury hotel room suits him just fine.
And me? I like an urban setting, the same luxury hotel with a gym and a spa, fabulous shopping, great dining options and my husband all to myself. And on our family vacations none of us really get what we want. Someone is always complaining about the food or the long drive or the tiring terrain or the crummy food or the crappy room or the heat or the rain or their mere existence on earth. Yet, we keep forging ahead, planning to meet Ted in New York for Memorial Day weekend. I'll let you know how it goes.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Confessions of a Control Freak
I recall when my kids were toddlers I was in a big hurry for them to grow up already! Learn to tie your own shoelaces, wipe your bottom and your nose; grow tall enough to reach for a glass in the cupboard and get your own drink of water.
Now that they're teens, I wish Matt and Annie would just slow down a little. It's a funny thing. As your kids become more and more independent and self sufficient, you think you can do less, let down your guard. And maybe that's true--obviously they can make their own snacks and figure out their own rides and social lives. Matt now routinely takes the bus home when I'm going to be late picking him up, and Annie just spent 10 days in Rome on a school trip and didn't even bother to call or email once.
But. What about all the other things in the world that confront our children as teenagers that they just might not be able to handle? Two nights ago Matt asked: what if he did something "bad" right now would it mean he wouldn't get into the private high school that's already accepted him? "What did you do?" his father and I collectively asked. "Nothing," he replied. "It's a hypothetical question."
"Well, that depends on whether it was illegal or if someone got hurt," I told him. "That would be a problem."
It took until the next morning for him to fess up. A high school freshman Matt has known since last year in middle school--they played lacrosse together--had contacted Matt online to find out whether Matt or any of his friends wanted to buy some "weed." Matt, always wanting to be liked, replied that he wasn't sure but he would get back to the boy. Then, knowing he was wrong, he text-messaged the kid and said he wasn't interested. But he was worried that because of his initial, semi-positive response that he would somehow get found out by his current school, expelled and then not allowed into high school. Now, I know this is a lot of magical, catastrophic thinking because I engage in it myself, and Matt is mostly a male, more athletic version of me as a teenager. But both Ted and I had to talk him down and explain that he hadn't done anything wrong, that the other kid was engaging in illegal activity, and that Matt should simply avoid further contact.
Ha! Easier said than done when all the kids are connected via the Internet and their cell phones. If kids are trying to sell pot to Matt in 8th grade, won't there be even more of that in high school? Not to mention other, more dangerous drugs and alcohol? I already know the answer to that. What I don't know is how my son, a bright kid who likes to be popular and enjoys taking risks, will hold up under all that peer pressure. We've certainly talked about it a lot, and we'll probably talk it to death over the summer. But, as they say, talk is cheap, and what Matt decide to do on his own is no longer under my control. I can't stop him from buying chips and soda on the way home from school when he takes the bus, I can't make him study harder for tests, and I can't stop him from using his own money to buy drugs if that's something he wants to do.
It makes me miss those good old days when I was really, truly in charge, and every morsel that went into my children's mouths, every TV show they watched, every birthday party they attended had the parental stamp of approval. I'm sure my parents felt the same way when I started high school, started dating, started driving. But I have to say, I don't like it one bit!
Now that they're teens, I wish Matt and Annie would just slow down a little. It's a funny thing. As your kids become more and more independent and self sufficient, you think you can do less, let down your guard. And maybe that's true--obviously they can make their own snacks and figure out their own rides and social lives. Matt now routinely takes the bus home when I'm going to be late picking him up, and Annie just spent 10 days in Rome on a school trip and didn't even bother to call or email once.
But. What about all the other things in the world that confront our children as teenagers that they just might not be able to handle? Two nights ago Matt asked: what if he did something "bad" right now would it mean he wouldn't get into the private high school that's already accepted him? "What did you do?" his father and I collectively asked. "Nothing," he replied. "It's a hypothetical question."
"Well, that depends on whether it was illegal or if someone got hurt," I told him. "That would be a problem."
It took until the next morning for him to fess up. A high school freshman Matt has known since last year in middle school--they played lacrosse together--had contacted Matt online to find out whether Matt or any of his friends wanted to buy some "weed." Matt, always wanting to be liked, replied that he wasn't sure but he would get back to the boy. Then, knowing he was wrong, he text-messaged the kid and said he wasn't interested. But he was worried that because of his initial, semi-positive response that he would somehow get found out by his current school, expelled and then not allowed into high school. Now, I know this is a lot of magical, catastrophic thinking because I engage in it myself, and Matt is mostly a male, more athletic version of me as a teenager. But both Ted and I had to talk him down and explain that he hadn't done anything wrong, that the other kid was engaging in illegal activity, and that Matt should simply avoid further contact.
Ha! Easier said than done when all the kids are connected via the Internet and their cell phones. If kids are trying to sell pot to Matt in 8th grade, won't there be even more of that in high school? Not to mention other, more dangerous drugs and alcohol? I already know the answer to that. What I don't know is how my son, a bright kid who likes to be popular and enjoys taking risks, will hold up under all that peer pressure. We've certainly talked about it a lot, and we'll probably talk it to death over the summer. But, as they say, talk is cheap, and what Matt decide to do on his own is no longer under my control. I can't stop him from buying chips and soda on the way home from school when he takes the bus, I can't make him study harder for tests, and I can't stop him from using his own money to buy drugs if that's something he wants to do.
It makes me miss those good old days when I was really, truly in charge, and every morsel that went into my children's mouths, every TV show they watched, every birthday party they attended had the parental stamp of approval. I'm sure my parents felt the same way when I started high school, started dating, started driving. But I have to say, I don't like it one bit!
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