“Time is free, but it’s priceless…”
A few months ago, B-man started taking guitar lessons, as I think I’ve mentioned here before. As I also think I’ve mentioned here before, anything worth going to is a bit of a drive away for us- 30 minutes away to be exact- so once a week, on Wednesday evening, B-man and I have been making the 30 minute trek to town for his lesson, and the 30 minute trek back home when it’s over.
I don’t talk very often about B-man here. He’s something of a quiet kid, keeps to himself mostly, and seems content to entertain himself in his room with his computer and his video games. He’s always been that way, really, most likely a learned trait as a result of being the younger brother of two drama-ridden sisters.
He’s an extremely intelligent kid, a fact that has driven both myself and his teachers insane over the years as he, since junior high, has skated by on about a D-average in school. A change from the straight-A’s he earned in elementary school. He finds homework ‘tedious and boring’, ‘pointless and stupid’, he says, and has figured out that if he aces the tests and quizzes, he can pass the class without having to do homework. There have only been two times when the ratio of zeros on homework to A’s on tests hasn’t allowed him a passing grade, and as a result he now has to do summer school for English. He shrugged it off as a miscalculation on his part.
I think he and I share the tendency to be emotionally private, perhaps something we both learned from being the youngest of older, attention-snatching siblings. Ever since he grew out of the age where it was okay to sit on mom’s lap and demand hugs and kisses, there’s been an ever-widening emotional gap between he and I. I’m ashamed to say that while I have always been aware of it, I’ve not taken any steps to bridge it, as all of my energies can be sapped by louder, more demanding voices in my life. A poor excuse but an excuse I gave myself often.
When he started teaching himself how to play the guitar a few years ago, I figured it would just be one of the many interests that tweens have that they grow out of in weeks or months and, consequently, didn’t show much interest in it. I’d been schooled by two flighty teenage girls before him, you see, and was blind to the fact that he, unlike his sisters, takes to something like a dog to a steak bone.
Flash forward a couple of years, and he’s not only not lost interest in the guitar, he’s pretty good at it. Not only has he taught himself to play songs, he’s making up his own. He now has 4 guitars, preferring acoustic to electric. He’s taught himself maintenance and care, and has saved his own monies to purchase an extra $300 “cheap” guitar to mess around on with his friends. Now, I didn’t find $300 to be “cheap” by my standards, but after accompanying him to the music store a time or seven, I’ve since been shown the error of my ways. Guitars are crazy expensive. CRAZY expensive. So yes, his $300 guitar IS “cheap”. O.O
So. Having been confronted with his apparent serious interest in guitar playing, we started seriously discussing guitar lessons. It was a lot to consider, with the price of the lesson added on to the rising price of gas and the miles we’d have to travel to get there. In the end the deciding factor (for me anyway, possibly for Master, too) was determination to, for once, give him something entirely unaffected by his sisters. And thus, B-man and I began this weekly trek together to town.
I can tell you that with the exception of the occasional doctor appointment to get him to the amount of time B-man and I have spent together alone in probably ever was surpassed in the first two weeks of going to lessons. I never get out of the house without one or both of the girls tagging along, and him usually choosing to stay home. Even if he did come along for some reason, he’d usually isolate himself with his Ipod and his earbuds anyway.
And at first, he continued to do just that as we drove to the lessons. I’d barely get more than a few sentences of conversation out of him before he shut himself off. Then one day I realized that I was recycling the same subject matter with him each and every time I talked to him. I, astute as I am (not), picked up on the tired sigh he’d give before turning to his Ipod, leaving me in silence with my last words hanging in the air. I’d have either been nagging him about his homework theory or about his hair.
His hair.
Oh lordie.
It’s not that I find long hair on guys to be unattractive; I don’t. I found what he did with his hair to be unattractive. It wasn’t just that he wore it long, it was that he wore it in his face. Like, literally, combed straight down over his face. He resembled Cousin Itt, for real.
Since I’d always given his sisters free rein with their hair choices, and they’d had some funky color and cut choices over the years, I was bound by the rules of fairness to also give him free rein over his hair. The fact that he chose the Cousin Itt look only made me regret having ever given anyone free hair rein.
He got flak about it constantly. Not just from me, but from everyone. Kids at school. His sisters. Family. Anyone anywhere, upon meeting or seeing him would say something about his hair or about not being able to see his face. When I was taking him to the dermatologist for his Accutane treatment course, I practically begged the doctor to tell him his acne was caused by his hair, but doc only laughed and said that while he’d like to help me trick him into a haircut, he had to be honest and admit that long hair doesn’t cause acne. Damn him anyway.
But I digress. Back to our driving time.
So, I (mostly) stfu about his hair and tried to draw him into conversation about other things. Initially, though the ride in could be somewhat stilted, on the way home, fresh from his lesson, I could get him talking about the lesson or his teacher, about what he’d learned that day or new supplies he might need. Slowly but surely, he’d open up and start asking me questions, as I would him, about our opinions on other topics. Eventually, we started talking about more personal things. I learned that he was quick to shut down if I questioned too directly, or questioned by way of sounding judgmental. Over time though, it got easier and easier and I started learning things about him that I’d been blind to.
I learned that he has (and has had) a huge crush on a girl who has been dicking him and several of his friends around for a year or more. That she indicates through texting and notes at school that she feels the same way, but is telling ALL of them the same thing, and it’s caused a lot of hard feelings between he and his buddies.
I learned he wants to go the military route after school, but is scared to death of it. That he wants to do it because his grandpa did, and doesn’t quite think he’s ‘good enough’ for the Marines, and is afraid to fail and lose the respect of his grandpa, that maybe the army is more his speed.
I learned he’s exceptionally self-conscious about the acne scarring on his chest, something that I’m not quite sure how to help him through, to be honest. I did what I could by getting him on the Accutane and taking him to the dermatologist, but his chest developed keloid scars and they are just there.
He told me how much he enjoyed the guitar lessons, and how having his teacher reaffirm that he was good and that he picked up things really quickly made him feel good. That he doesn’t have delusions of being famous for it, but he’s still GOOD at it, and he likes it.
It was on these rides that I realized that his hair choice isn’t because he thinks it looks good. It’s a shield. A curtain that he hides behind.
It was on these rides that I learned what a difficult time he has with anxiety, something that surprised me immensely as he has always shown such an apathetic persona to me. I learned that he’d been researching it on his own and that he was pretty knowledgeable on the subject of anxiety disorders. We talked about that for a couple of weeks, trying to pinpoint a cause, discussing coping strategies, and with me finally just asking HIM what he wanted to do about it. That I was willing and open to what he wanted to try.
It was because of these rides that I took him to the doctor and we all talked over treatment options, counseling, medication, etc. We talked with him, giving weight and credence to his thoughts on the hows and whys of what he’s feeling. It was his choice to try medication first, something that the doctor and I agreed to try. That was about 2 months ago, maybe 3.
Can I just say that a different kid has emerged since then? A bright, funny, engaging kid. He’s sociable, friendly, talkative. He’s been outside helping Master work. He’s volunteered to help neighbors, he’s asked me several times if I needed anything. He’s started wearing something other than black t-shirts!
But the biggest sign of this emerging butterfly?
Last Wednesday after his guitar lesson, he wanted a hair cut. A real one. Not just a trim. A shave. He wanted out from behind his shield, which, if you’ve any experience dealing with depression or anxiety, you’ll know what a huge, huge step that is.
I can’t even believe the good-looking boy who came out from under all that hair. He looks amazing, and presents himself with confidence. He’s possibly secured himself a summer internship for the local volunteer fire department, something that he seemed quite pleased about. And something that I know without a doubt he would not have considered even 6 months ago.
The other day he said to me, “Mom. The bitches love me.” and grinning, he struck a he-man pose. This a new kid.
If it wasn’t for Master making it possible for me to take him to these lessons, I don’t think we ever would have gotten here with him. Who knows where the self-imposed isolation and unchecked anxiety would have led. Not to he-man poses and grins, I can tell you that. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve seen that face, with that smile.
I look forward to the drive to his lessons now, to our time together. Pretty soon, I’ll be letting him do the driving, another bonding opportunity that I’m excited to share with him. He’s gotten much better at driving, and at taking direction from me.
He’s just gotten much better, period. As have I.
Uncategorized | kaya | 
Sunday June 5th, 2011 11:13am
That is, SERIOUSLY, an amazing story. I am so happy for you and for your son. Congrats on being a great mom!
Sexperts´s last [type] ..How D-s Has Helped My Marriage
That is great to hear. I’m so happy for you.
William´s last [type] ..Her marks
My compliments to your Master and yourself, very good job! You should both be very proud.
You ROCK as a mom! Just saying~
Sounds like you’ve got a wonderful young man.
I’m so happy for you and B. I’m glad you were able to help him, and that things are getting better, and that you have this special time to talk to him when he goes to his lessons.
On the keloids – you should ask if he’s a candidate for steroid shots. My GF had an enormous, raised, purple keloid from a biopsy on her breast. They gave her two steroid shots and it faded into a small, white, barely noticeable scar. So if he’s still self-concious, that might be something he can do.
We were doing those with the dermatologist when he was still on the accutane. They really didn’t have an effect on them at all, sadly.
If the scars are still active you could try silicone sheeting. They are a sticky gel-like bandage that you put over the scar and wear constantly other than showering.
Not sure of availability in your part of the world but they are currently the standard of care in Australia, as are the mentioned steroid shots or excision.
As the mother of a reserved son this made me so happy! I am genuinely glad for all of you.
littlemonkey´s last [type] ..Blue Ribbon Day – Breakfast
What a moving entry. Wow. I’m so happy for both of you guys.
Sera´s last [type] ..Iris
Boys are a totally different world than girls, that’s for sure.
I’m so glad for you both. For you all. Life sure can be grand, eh?
takenbylovely´s last [type] ..Public Post
Although I’m not a commenter, I just had to say something about this post – I hope that I am half the mother you are. Thank you so much for sharing.
What a great experience for you both. Thank you for sharing.
It’s a sad fact that the kids who need attention the most often demand it the least. Good on you for not just identifying it but prioritizing acting on it.
There are some excellent creams developed for keloid scars out there. They are not cheap, but they do work. Women often use them after breast biopsies… unfortunately that area is very prone to them. Chat to your pharmacy or doctors… don’t know how your system works over there in regards to dispensing :)
Master’s piece´s last [type] ..Finding your own kind
here’s what i love about you as a mother. you are open to what the kids say and do. you think about a stance you have taken and rethink it. most parents do the my way or the highway thing. you’re willing to jump on their highway. which makes you remarkable. i’m so often amazed at your thoughtfullness as a parent which seems to give you great insight into your kids. that said, this post made me cry, you little shit, you!!!
It is the greatest feeling in the world to see your kid get a big ‘win’ out of life. Way to go for B-man and for you too. After all you’ve been through with the girls, it’s nice to know that things are clicking along for your boy.
Now if only I could figure out what the hell to do with my depressed and sometimes suicidal 17YO before her first psych doc visit in late July. That’s the soonest we could get in, and every single day is a struggle. Wish us luck.
I do wish you the very best of luck with it. Been there. :(
It’s taken three years, but one’s keloidscars from an apendix removal have finally just about disappeared. They probably will with time (which doesn’t help if you’re 15 and might wanna go swimming while having the hot chick looking at you).
Or he could claim they’re from shrapnel, or something heroic. ;)
It’s amazing to read this. You really do have great kids, and you are a great mum. <3
Yes! Who da mom! THis is what good parenting is all about. Kudos.
Dave
Awwwweeee…
I am in tears. How simply wonderful for you and for him…
I am reminded that, when I was in the throes of dealing with Sarah’s craziest days, a very wise friend reminded me that my “other” child also had a “developmental disability” that I was ignoring. She told me that Rick was “severely and profoundly normal.” Like you, I’d poured tons or attention and energy into the wild child and nearly forgotten to parent that other kid. When I remembered to turn around and simply look and listen, there he was — and he was, like B-man, a delight.
Hugs,
swan
swan´s last [type] ..M-s and the Dangers of Ego
What a beautiful and moving post. Yay for you for rediscovering your son :) :)
I think I posted something similar here before. But, I was the SAME with homework. I refused to do it because it was a waste of my time to do work I already knew how to do. I aced everything – tests, exams, quizzes, etc. But, homework – no way.
Looking back, at age 28, I still wouldn’t have done it differently. I think it’s a failure of the school system to give homework to children who are clearly above average, and already know what they’re doing. It’s not needed.
Frankly, I wish I had been able to skip high school and go straight to college (I had a 30 on my ACT Freshman year, so I could have done it).
My point is, I got into a University – despite my grade point average it was a very good University. I graduated. I got my MA, and am now working in a field that I adore.
So … I wouldn’t worry too much about the homework. Honestly, his theory makes a lot of sense to me. It’s a sign of intelligence, I tell ya. :-)
I need a like button for comments. :-)
Thank you all so much. :-)
I’m going to look into some of the recommended creams and such, and see if we can’t at least reduce the appearance of the scarring. :)
Just. Freakin’. Awesome!
Em´s last [type] ..Missing