good wins

Update on son number 2.

Good wins.  Courage wins.  Decency wins. Getting back out there, wins.  Mr. Right and I appreciate all the concern about our son.  It feels like a huge camp circle with really good people sitting around wearing bandanas holding coffee between their hands. Please know all of our collective prayers, good karma and good wishes did the trick.

Here is the original post sharing events of 2 weeks ago.

Last night, he sent us pictures & a brief note:

 finished my adventure I tried to do 2 weeks ago.  no issues this time.  

So there you have it, no fan fare, no huge announcement, no heads up, just him going back to do what he started.  Gabe tent

The hike was 14.52 miles, 26,090 steps, equivalent to climbing 206 floors.

Does a mom’s heart good to know your kid can stand up for himself, go back out there and finish what he started.  wow.

(side note, this mom is still going to worry and fret and sit in a camp circle and pray…. oh and of course continue to have a love affair with hair dye.)

Feels good to know someone with the strength & grace can get back on the horse.

Good wins, quietly.  Good wins.imagejpeg_0

mean mom

Picture me:  feet up, toe nails painted, sitting in one of those folding, web, woven, lawn chairs.  I have an iced beverage with lots of ice and it is sitting on the ground beside me.   I am working on a stitchery project.  The sun is shining.  Oh, and I am supervising a four-year old.

This scene was close to 30 years ago.

All of a sudden an official looking car drove up and parked in our driveway.  A man got out.  He introduced himself.  He said he was from CPS.  He showed me some sort of fancy badge.  That means Child Protective Services.  Apparently, a neighbor had called and “reported” me being an abusive mother.

He asked me what I was doing.

I said I am stitching and having an iced beverage.

He said is that your son?  I said, “yes”.

He asked,  “what is he doing”?

bucketHe had a bucket of water and a sponge and clearly he was scrubbing the sidewalk.   I explained what he was doing.

The “official” said, “why”?

I said because he spit on the side-walk.

He chose to clean the sidewalk for 15 minutes.  I am supervising and keeping time (while pretending to relax).

Then I got sassy and said, “If you choose to spit on my sidewalk, which I take care of, I would politely, yet sternly ask you to clean up after yourself as well.”

He said, “no ma’am, Have a nice afternoon.” He drove away, smiling.

You see, folks it is called PARENTING.

Okay, okay, the neighbor thought I was the meanest mom in the land.

If that neighbor is interested today; we raised two very respectful, polite, well-educated, interesting, funny, upstanding citizens.

If my religious beliefs allowed me to place a bet, I would gladly bet a huge bag of money (with a great big dollar sign printed on it, tied up with rope) that never again has that son of ours ever, ever spit on a sidewalk.

Baltimore, I am praying for the children and parents of your city.

Being a parent is TOUGH work.  It is work.  It does take time and effort.  It is NOT fun to set up a scene to pretend you are relaxing while your son is on his hands and knees scrubbing.  It breaks your heart.  However, I love my sons more than I cared about my achy breaky heart.

We all deserve citizens that were raised with parents who actually parented.