Not quite a boy...

...not yet a man.

Becoming a man.

I admit, as a woman...this is unfamiliar territory for me. I know a little about how to become a woman-(well, I am still grasping at the full concept of this, truly) Because, becoming a woman-is still a work in progress for most women, until...well, death.

I guess maybe, that men-have the same issue?

My son is 17 years old. And as the cliche goes, not quite a boy, not yet a man.
He deals with a lot of the typical things, hormones, school, growing up, full-throttle angst, and responsibility. But these things really just scratch the surface.
I'd like to say that I know what he is going through, but my failing ability to see through his eyes, is becoming quite apparent.

He is struggling.

I have posted prior about my son making the decision 2 years ago to move to his father's house-for many reasons. I told him years ago after a nasty custody battle, that when he was at least 13, he could then make the decision himself to move to spend more time with his dad, if he really wanted to and could give me good reasons-that made sense for doing so.
He did.
After removing him from public school here in my town due to the complete and utter failings in every possible way-I decided to home school. This worked fine for awhile. But when he turned 15, for him-this wasn't enough. The lack of socialization, and all of the trappings of traditional high school were calling him. Including football. Also, dad promised a car when he turned 16-something I refused to do. I didn't want to send the message that he gets handed things his entire life, and also the message that some things are worth hard work. So when Dad offered up a free car, a traditional high school experience, and quite a few other "perks" that I wasn't exactly willing, OR able to let him do. He left.
I now pay child support to a man who barely ever paid his, and I see my son every other weekend, two weeks in the summer, and rotating holidays.
Good times.

I explained to my son that the grass isn't always greener. I explained to him that the revolving door is non existent--and if he leaves, he CAN come back. But, once he does, he STAYS.
I explained that high school looks shiny and awesome from the outside. But, typically it is a building full of strife, heartache, disappointment and sadness.
True enough, my high school experience could be construed as singular-but according to most adults I know-when asked about their memory of high school-I typically get an answer that sums up: Fucking brutal.

I also let my son know about his father's family Dynamic and how that could possibly play out for him.

He was warned.

But in typical 17-year old style-he knows everything, and Mom is an idiot.

To be as brief as I possibly can here-at the beginning of the school year (full of wonder and possibility-ugh) he gets kicked off of the football team for a suspension for a really trivial thing and is told that he is OFF all extra curriculars  until the middle of next year. So, as a Junior-that basically ends football for him altogether.
He was edging the idea of quitting school at that point.
And as much as that opened a big wide door for me, I discouraged it. And really...I am the one who talked him out of it-to my own behest.
Because it's not in his best interests-period.
I did explain to his father that without football, he will not give one shit about school, and that he has to stay on him about grades.
He hasn't. 
And he is currently failing three subjects.
I also warned his father to make sure he is monitoring him with girls.
Because without the distraction of sports and other activities, he could end up running wild with that car and the freedom.
He didn't. 
So, my son gets a job-which he likes, and which I had hoped would distract him from all things vagina for awhile.
It didn't.
Sigh.

And- last week we had a "Plan B" situation.
Good times.

When this happened-he didn't feel comfortable telling his father. Interesting, no?
So, my husband and I took the wheel-and bail him out of his "predicament".

Last night, he sends me a text and asks if I could come get him-apparently, his dad found out about the Plan B, the fact that he has been skipping early bird PE to get "tutoring" from "a friend", and how low his grades are-and threatened to take away his car, and make him quit his job.
And that was a whole hour of text convo, almost leading to a 17 year old runaway situation.

So.

After talking him down from the proverbial ledge-things are in limbo.

His father tells him he has a week to raise his grades. Which is not practical.
And my son, seeing no way out-says screw this-and plans an escape.
Escape from becoming a man.

Apparent escape from all semblance of integrity, and escape from his commitment. The same one that turned all of our lives upside down two years ago,

And here we are.

And here I am. Not knowing how to guide him.

Part of me wants to open my arms and shelter him from all of the bad things in the world, and save him from his mistakes.
And the other part wants me to be a tough love parent and tell him-suck it up, buttercup.

But, his age being so close to the big one-eight is not helping this situation at all.
He-not quite a boy, not yet a man-is feeling so much like a full grown adult that he is SURE, quitting school, working, and leaving home for his Own place is the solution for everything.

Yeah, I know.

So, I find myself-well, stressed-obvi. And scared, and a little helpless.
I want to mom-control this bitch all over the place. I want to fire up my proverbial micro-management chopper and hover like some bad ass CIA surveillance.  I want to call his father and be all like: What THE FUCK is going ON over there, "superdad". You are so busy posturing and bullying that you are forgetting to parent our son, you moronic little turd goblin.
You were SO fucking sure that you could do this better than me, and look...just look at the mess you have made-you utter failure of a man.

But, what I want-and need-are completely two different things, of course. Or better said-what I want and what my SON needs are two different things.

I'd like to do the united front thing, and trust that his father and I could work together and help him.  But, he and I have two very different styles of parenting and he's just SUCH an asshole.
Don't get me wrong, for the most part-we get along. For Logan's sake.
But, I still have a hard time wrapping my head around WHY I ever let him stick his penis into me-and I just don't like the guy, truth be told.

So now, what?

So now, I am waiting for the phone to ring and to figure out what to do.

Maybe the answer is to just let my kid find his own way here. Two years ago, I was literally forced into the empty nest. And while I'm not alone there. I have my husband, who is always my rock-I still feel like that I was cheated out of years. And maybe, while I have had to find a way to let my resentment go-the lesson has to be learned.
My only duty at this point because of the situation being what it is-is to let my son learn his lesson, here.
It is not in my nature to let go-let God. But, for the 10 year old to make that transition from not quite a boy, and the fast lane into-a man, has to be of his own making.
I can't control it. And I know this. It drives me crazy to step back and watch the goat-screw unfold.

But that's what good parenting is, I guess.

Watching the goat-screw unfold.

And letting them know that whatever the outcome of said screwing is-that you are there for the aftermath. To hug it out. Cry with them. And try to repair the damage.
And of course, being me...making sure to say: I TOLD YOU SO.

Being a man isn't about sex, or money, order grades, or career, or anything like that.
It's about becoming a person you would allow your own son or daughter to be with. It's about respect. And treating others the way they treat you. It's about how you handle anger, and how you manifest it, and why you manifest it. Is it warranted? It's about how you protect and love and show absolute loyalty to everyone who does the same for you, and not taking advantage of it. It's about who you trust and how many reasons you can come up with-warranted reasons-for someone to trust you. And it's about love. Loving your family, your parents, your friends, your own children, and your significant others-unconditionally-and remembering what you put your parents through, and smiling about it (just a little) when your own children are doing the same thing to you.
It's about giving a shit.  About others, and yourself. Kindness, giving and receiving. And mostly it's about time. Time isn't just a healer-time is a teacher. And there is no lesson greater than the one that time teaches you. Mostly because it is short. And really, perspective is omnipotent.

Let's hope that in some way-my son squeezes some of this out of what is happening to him right now. Because ultimately-he won't listen to me when I tell him. He's 17-he knows everything.

Just ask him.

XOXO,
#momoftheyear