Growth

My 15 yr. old son quit smoking. I know what some are thinking after reading this: he should never have started in the first place. This is true, and I make no excuses for him. I don't smoke and I had drummed into him the dangers of smoking since he and his brother were little. I would point to celebrities and family members whose health declined from the ravages of smoking. Despite all my best efforts, he had his first cigarette when he was thirteen. I was devastated when I found out, but I was also frustrated at his lack of sense and embarrassed at what I perceived as my own failure as a parent.

My son had a few frustrations of his own. He hated wasting his allowance on cigarettes, and he hated the time it wasted when he had to leave the house to have a smoke. He wanted to quit, but he knew how bad he felt "between cigarettes" and was a bit frightened to experience that torture magnified. He mentioned that he might try to quit after school let out for the summer. I crossed my fingers, but didn't say anything more than "You can do it." Two days after summer vacation began, he came to me and said that he hadn't had a cigarette in two days. I hadn't realized that his desire to quit had hardened into a resolve.

It hasn't been easy for him. Like most smokers, he had a routine which he has had to forgo. There have been days that have truly been awful - he says that the cravings can come out of nowhere. When we went on vacation, he felt a terrible pressure and gave in to "just one cigarette." Luckily it made him feel, in his words, "stupid and not worth it," so he has gone another two weeks without another one. I am really very proud of him.

I have learned a few things myself. I feel that I cannot take credit for his strength and determination, so I shouldn't feel guilty about his smoking either. Both starting and quitting were entirely up to him. Also, I have learned that the addiction to nicotine cannot be taken lightly. As a never-smoker, I did not realize how hard it is to quit. Realizing that, I feel even prouder of my son for quitting on his own.

On Being a Nerd

I love school. My college experience was a little disappointing because I had expected (really!) to mingle with lots of like-minded people who wanted to go to class, then grab a cup of joe or a cold beer and discuss and debate all of the wonderful things we were learning. Instead, I met people who, rabid with sudden independence, slept through their morning classes, and lived for "free keg."

After college, I worked in marketing and loved to attend professional certificate classes. I didn't make a career out of it, though. I found my true calling when I went back to my high school alma mater for a luncheon in honor of one of my favorite teachers and landed a job teaching sophomores and seniors.

Then life happened: I had two children and bought a house in the woods. After getting accustomed to country living I realized I wanted (needed!) to go back to school for another degree. So, after running around with my two and four year old boys all day, I would go to the local university and marvel that I was there, and being older, even better at learning and understanding.

I am starting another certificate program tomorrow. I can't wait. My teen aged boys think I am insane. They can't believe anyone in their right minds would actually want to go to school. They laughed at me as I got my folder, notebook and pens ready. I wonder how this happened to me. Was I born loving school? Is it a consequence of how much I love books? And why didn't my boys inherit my "school gene"? These are things I will ponder now because tomorrow I will be weighed down with ideas and reading assignments. Ahhhhh!

Family Vacation

Tomorrow I am leaving, with my children and father, on our annual vacation on the Cape. My oldest son is coming along, despite the fact that for two years now he has said he is too old for "family vacations." I am very happy he is coming, but my happiness is tempered with dread for the sullen attitude which will inevitably surface. My four year old daughter is so excited that it is nerve-wracking: not only have we been counting the days for over two weeks now, but she has been putting things aside to pack - we'll need a refrigerator box for it all to fit. My 15 yr. old son is sleeping now, but he will be the one to help me get the show on the road.

We've been doing this for so long that we have a system. My mother is the co-pilot. She calms me down, offers conversation to keep me alert on the seven hour trip, and keeps my father, the ultimate backseat driver, at bay. Unfortunately, she is already on the Cape, caring for my brand new twin nephews. Believe me, I am terrified of making the trip without her. My father wants to leave before dawn, drive more than halfway before the first stop and, if we do not "make good time," refrain from making any more stops. I like to take a more leisurely drive, maybe stopping and doing some shopping at my favorite stores along the way, have breakfast and maybe lunch, too.

I have packed little wrapped trinkets for my daughter to open along the trip. It has become a tradition, and it keeps her occupied. My father will worry about every little scrap of paper littering the rental car. I am more laid back. Once we get to the hotel, I will clean everything up in one fell swoop. If she tries to talk to me, he will interrupt, "No distracting the driver!" My father will keep his eyes on the road, but also on my son who I have elected to be my co-pilot. If he fidgets even a little, my father will yell, "Don't touch anything on the dashboard. No distracting the driver!" This is okay, though, because it means that my son will not be able to flip the radio station when I begin to sing along.

My oldest son will put his earphones in his ears and fall asleep. However, when he wakes up he will revert back to his toddler days and ask how much longer the trip will be. He will do this every 20 minutes until the end of the trip. Unless my father yells at him, "For crying out loud, grow up. We'll be there when we get there. If we hadn't had to wait for you to go back upstairs for your earphones, we'd have made it to Rhode Island by now. And, do we still have to remind you to use the bathroom before we leave? That pit-stop in Jersey cost us at least an hour's driving time by the time we got past rush hour traffic." Now I am the driver and referee.

We will get there. We will have fun. We will laugh, we will swim, and we will have peppermint ice cream. I know this because we have been doing this for so long. The night before we have to trek home again, we will all wish for just one more day. And I will pray that God keeps us well until we come back next year.