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12:58 p.m. - 2012-03-12
Apologies to Spike Lee

What a nice weekend. Nothing particularly wonderful happened, we didn't even go to a movie, but it was really relaxing and mellow just the same. The time change isn't too uncomfortable, a nice change from last fall's, man, that irked me for weeks. Felt like I could NOT reset my internal clock. This time there's a vague feeling of surprise, "Oh? It's 6:30 already?", but no other heinous side-effects.

Yesterday at the dermotologist Mick had three nasties frozen and two other nasties excized and sent off for biopsy. Mick asked me to come in with him for the exam. Not because the PA was female and he was going to be in his underwear, Mick always has me come in with him at the doctor's. The PA didn't think it odd at all and spoke to me as much as she spoke to Mick. I guess she's used to wives dragging reluctant husbands in for cancer checks and such. Also I know Mick's bod as well as he does and certainly see his back (where one of the biopsies was taken) far more often than he does. As for me going in with Mick as a regular thing, perhaps he knows I'm going to grill him for every shred of info anyhow and it's just easier if I'm there to hear it in person. Anyhow those cough syrup ads weren't kidding, at least at our house they weren't...I AM Dr Mom. If there's meds to be administered, dressings to be changed, etc, etc, I'm the one who does it.

The reverse isn't true when I go to the doctor, btw, even if Mick drives me there he stays in the waiting room. Aside from the ex attending the births of our kids, no husband has ever or will ever be there while I have a medical exam or procedure. I am very private about things concerning my bod and its functions. Mick's never seen me use the toilet. I even feel weird if he's in the can with me while I'm brushing my teeth. Maybe I've just seen 'Wizard of Oz' too many times. In many ways in our family dynamic I am Oz the Great and Powerful and to see me sitting on the toilet or in a paper gown with my feet in the stirrups is akin to seeing the man behind the curtain. "Waaaait a minute! You're as human as any of us! You're just a big humbug!" Or maybe I am simply a private person. Something that sounds weird coming from someone who's been blogging for over a decade to say, but it's true. Besides, there's a big difference between talking about something and seeing it. In a blog post I might write about having a bout of stomach flu, doesn't mean I'd take a video of me throwing up and post it on YouTube. Capice?

We got Wolf's 5 week report and his grades are terrific in all his academic subjects- A's across the board except a B in English, yet this ridiculous child is nearly flunking ART. I was like, "Art??? Are you freaking kidding me? How can anyone flunk Art?" I actually do know what the problem is, Wolf's not keeping up with the required sketchbook assignments. Also the problem with his English grade, somebody isn't doing his homework regularly. I've told Wolf HE is responsible for getting his work done. He's in high school now and I am not about to be the homework monitor. It's not my job to nag and oversee and chivvy him into doing his assignments. If he wants help or a proofreader I am always there, but to be forced into taking up his slack and be the homework ogre? Nope.

Too many parents get caught in the trap of fearing the longterm consequences. "GAH! If my kid flunks something he'll never get into a good college and then he'll never get a good job and GAH!!! He'll be doomed! My kid's whole life will be ruined if he tanks freshman science! I will make him do his work! His ruined life isn't going to be on my head! I'm going to save him from disaster if I have to do his homework myself!"

Hey, I dig it. Nobody wants their kid to be doomed. But I am of the view that if he's going to louse up and have to deal with the consequences of not being responsible for his actions it's a heck of a lot better that he learn this lesson early on. A lousy grade on a report card is a trifle. Better I should let him fail now and get his act together as a kid than dealing with a ne'erdowell slacker 20-something son who's still expecting me to clean up his messes and get him out of trouble. I never want a 2:00am phone call from Wolf asking for bail money and a lawyer.

Just look at the ex-husband. I was there for him since we were kids. Re-writing his term papers, managing our finances, supporting us both and our son while he fucked around in college, begging my Pop to give my stupid husband a job and then another job when he screwed up the first one. I spent half my inheritance paying off Mike's horrific debt from when he went into business for himself. I let him live in my backyard for 7 years after we split up. Now he's 52 years old and STILL cannot/will not take the reins of his own life and behave with one iota of personal inegrity and responsibility.

A bad grade will doom my kid? Not even close. Mom the fixer, the nagger, the minder and the mender will doom my kid. I love Wolf enough to let him fall on his ass and learn how to stand up and not fall down again. Even if it takes a few messes before the lesson sinks in completely Wolf will learn to be a responsible person.

Sorry, got a little soap boxy there. But this is a subject I've given a lot of thought to. There's no one absolutely right way to be a parent. Or to be anything really. But I make my mistakes and try to learn from them. A life lesson I want my son to have before the stakes get too high. Flunking Art would be cheap at the price. A hella lot better than being like his stupid father or his schmucky mother. A father who might never get his shit together and me who wasted her whole life taking care of everybody else and never doing anything smart or loving for herself until it was very, very late, almost too late to have a good life of her own.

As ever trying to Do The Right Thing, ~LA

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