Finally! I'm cool

I was never cool in my school years. I wasn’t cool in my 20s. I wasn’t cool in my 30s. But, finally, at the ripe old age of 43, I am finally cool. I know this because I have the official endorsement of five 7th and 8th grader boys. And if teen boys don’t know cool, who does? Levi’s SAGE group had a Robotics competition Saturday. I scored big points right off the bat by bringing donuts. (And, not to change the subject, but it was amazing how six boys plowed through 2-dozen donuts in about, oh, 30 seconds.) But then the other boys found out I play Warcraft. I was quite amused at the shock and awe that greeted this information. And surprised at the numbers of questions they asked me. The idea of a MOM playing WoW was obviously completely beyond the scope of their reckoning. I was told more than once that I am “cool”. Levi was told that his mom is “cool”.

Ah, after all those years of nerddom, I am finally cool. I have to admit, it feels pretty good

I always think of the moms ...

It's amazing how much becoming a Mom changes your perspective on things. In some arenas, it's changed my entire way of thinking. Even after the boys were born I never would have seen myself in the role of stay-at-home-Mom. I was busy climbing the banking ladder, doing well, and making steady progress. I had a wonderful sitter who the boys considered to be a third grandma. They were well cared for. And I was doing my thing. And then, one day, when work interfered yet again with my Mom-job, it hit me that I was in the wrong place. And now here I am. Being a Mom has not only changed thinking, but my entire way of behaving at times.

Last year when Cameron died, I was filled with grief for his family and friends, especially Lane. But, more than anything else the thought of what his Mom was going through tortured me.

This shift is never more emphasized than at times like now. When I saw the first news reports of the horrific events that happened at Virgina Tech this week, I was filled with shock and sorrow like everyone else with any human feeling at all. But immediately, on the heels of that, I began imagining the Moms. Those Moms across the country who have kids there. I could imagine one of my sons being at that school, seeing those reports and not being able to reach him to know that he was safe. How torturous were those minutes and hours for those Moms? And I can't even begin to imagine how the Moms, those Moms for whom that 'I'm okay' call never came, are coping.

Being a Mom is a wonderful job. Well, most of the time. But sometimes it's a heartbreaking job, even when you are not the one directly affected. But we're all affected to a degree. My prayers and tears fall for the families of those students. Especially the Moms.

Does this mean I have to forgive him?

Lane turned 15 last month. Lane got his restricted license last month. I wanted to get him a cell phone for his birthday as the RL meant he'd be driving to and from school and work alone. Steve was opposed to this idea. After all, he 'never had a phone when he started driving'! Um, true, dear. On the other hand, you barely had a house phone back when you started driving! But I wanted Lane to have one, mainly for my convenience and peace of mind.

So I got him one.

And it's way cooler than mine. I always get just the basic, makes calls, receives calls kind of phone. But Lane's was to be a gift so I got him a nice little slider. It has a camera. It has games. It can show a photo of who's calling if you have it programmed right.

But the worst cut of all?? The absolute you-suck factor?? He was able to download the ringtone I really, really wanted ... Wizards of Winter by Trans-Siberian Orchestra. Harumph. That was the last straw. I was actually a teeny bit pissed about it. (Yeah, I know that's silly but ....)

But I guess I have to forgive him. Yesterday he fooled with my phone a bit, updated the Ringtone Jukebox and, in a very few minutes, had TSO's Christmas Eve in Sarajevo as my tone.

Who's gonna fix my crap when he leaves home??

And the slap on the head goes to ....

Our local newspaper recently had an article about the controversial PPV vaccine. This isn’t about that. Although I do have pretty strong viewpoints on that subject and will happily share them with you in person if you ever care to know them. The article didn’t contain anything new as far as the PPV debate goes, but the following caught my eye:

“And one also has to wonder, if Merck had first come out with a version of the vaccine intended for boys – who, after all, are involved in passing the virus to girls – would the pressure against the drug be the same? I think not. The idea of young men having sex simply does not cause the same sort of panic, the same sort of hand-wringing protectionism.”

Now, if this were the first time I had seen or heard such a viewpoint expressed, I would simply shrug and pass it off as the author, Ms. Mary Sanchez’s, off-base opinion. Unfortunately, it is not. And I have heard such all too often to believe this is simply one author’s naiveté, ignorance or just plan lack of having sons of her own. And I do hope those who express this opinion are not parents of boys. If they are, that makes this sentiment all the more frightening.

You see, I do have sons. Teen sons. And I worry every bit as much about them having sex as you parents of girls worry about your daughters. Long gone are the days when a young person’s biggest risk from sex was an unwanted pregnancy or an embarrassing and uncomfortable condition that could be cleared up with a round of antibiotics. Nowadays, one can catch things that can kill. I worry about that.

There is a seventh grade girl at my younger son’s school who is pregnant. My first reaction upon learning this was shock followed by a profound sadness for that child. And, at 12 or 13 years old, a child she is. Would I be horrified if she were my daughter? Of course I would. Would I be equally aghast if my seventh grade son were the father of that baby? You bet your ass. You see, there are some of us who believe that, if our son should make a girl pregnant, he is every bit as responsible as she is. And do I want my 13 year-old son suddenly burdened with the responsibilities of a child of his own when his biggest worries should be passing his next algebra test? No way.

Putting the risk of pregnancy and disease aside, there are other ramifications. While my boys might be physically ready for sex, and that only in the strictest biological sense of the word, I know they are in no way intellectually or emotionally prepared. If for no other reason, I hope they will wait until they are a good deal older before they begin having sex.

As a mother of boys, I am thoroughly sick of hearing people say that no one worries about boys having sex. Yes, people do worry. Parents of boys worry. School administrators worry. Health care professionals worry. And, I’m guessing, parents of girls worry. After all, if my boys are having sex, who do you imagine it will be with?

Please, people, join us here in 2007. Those 1950s attitudes about boys and sex were outdated, oh, a few decades ago.

Starting Over

Okay, I'm going to try this again. Had a Blogger account and things were working fine. Tried the beta. Things were still working fine. And then things weren't working fine. Had to find a very round-about way of even getting in so I could post. Okay, I could deal with that. Then, when Blogger switched to the new format, had to find a round-and-around-about way of getting in. This was getting nutty. Still, I dealt with it. Then, one fine day, after taking that very circuitous route into my blog, I discovered that I had lost the option to format font size, etc. All righty. I know defeat when I smell it.

Here I am with a brand-new blog. So far, this one seems to be working fine. Then again, this is my first post. :/ We'll see how this one goes.

So, new blog...
... same old crap no one wants to read.