Friday, September 14, 2007

Here and there

I have a few random things bugging me today, so I'll pour them out here in one post. Hope you don't mind following my brain through it's gymnastics this morning. And if you do mind, well, at least it's not a rant like yesterday's....

Stupidass Teenagers...er, Teenager

My now-16-year-old is an idiot. Why he does the things he does sometimes, I just don't understand. He likes his new high school. He's always comparing it to the old school and saying how the new one is better. He enjoys going to the football games. He really enjoys the girls! He's decided Colorado girls are way cool. He's made loads of friends.

So, it's "Spirit Day" at his new school. You know what stupidassboy does this morning? I mean, he actually thought this through, did it, and thought it was a good idea? He put on a t-shirt from his old school, and shorts from his old middle school. Wow. All of his new friends are decked out in their school colors, and he has to thumb his nose at them with the old school stuff.

Okay, so maybe he has a need to assert himself with "this is where I came from" and all that. Okay. But does he realize nobody cares about his Texas high school? And they especially don't care about his middle school? Way to insult your new friends, child. The girls are gonna just looooove this. He's just inviting one of his new-found friends or a pretty girl to say, "If you like it so much, go back," and turn their back on him.

Of course, he won't listen to his mom. I guess he'll learn this one on his own. ::sigh:: stupidassboy


It's an age-old problem....

Guys are bad about calling gals. It's a fact that's been lamented through the ages. I'm sure there was a conversation in a cave once, one cave-girl to another: "We shared a bone, laughed a lot. I thought he really got me. He said he'd grunt at me today, but nothing. Maybe he didn't really like me? Maybe he's grunting at someone else? Oh wahhhhhh!"

My understanding is that we view the phone differently, as a tool. Women don't have to have anything in particular to say, to call someone. Men want to use the tool to communicate something specific. Correct me if that perception is wrong, but that's how it's been explained to me.

In my case, it doesn't help that I was raised with a mother to whom everything means something. My ex recently complained, "You don't have to read something into everything." Uhm, yes, I do. It's in my blood. It's unpleasant for everyone involved. I lose sleep over these little things I obsess over. But I'm aware that it could all be in my head....although often it's not.

New Fella has one drawback so far. He's bad about calling when he says he will.

Last week, I found myself waiting for a promised call. Actually, more than one. I think I did 90% of the calling (including texting -- he can't answer his cell during work) last week. The little self-doubting, over-analytical voice in my head was taking over. He doesn't really want to talk to you. He's seeing someone else and he'd rather talk to her. He doesn't really want to see you. You like him more than he likes you. You get the idea. It's torment and makes me cranky.

So, I decided to change my pattern and see what happened. We had that fabulous, frustrating, encounter Sunday night. My pattern would be to call or text the next day. It made me about bonkers, but I didn't do it. I didn't call, email, or text. On Tuesday, I waiting until late in the day and sent a "hope you're having a good day" type of text. I got a call that night, after his football game. No texts or calls on Wednesday. I got a call that night. No texts or calls Thursday. I got another call last night. So, I texted today. And we promised to talk tonight.

What did we learn, boys and girls? We learned to strike a balance. If I don't call or text, he'll still call me. It's okay. My little voice is quiet. Almost. It sounds like Sally Field. He likes me! He really, really likes me! I'm not proud of it, but it makes me smile.

Stress abounds


Looks like New Fella and I are having a really sucky week, between the two of us. You heard my rant yesterday. He called in the middle of dinner and I had to call him back. I got his voicemail. When he called a moment later, he sounded stressed to the gills.

His football team played last night. They won, but didn't play well. One of his favorite players took a hard hit that knocked the wind out of him pretty good. Coach New Fella sidelined him with some ice, and called the boy's parents. My call back to him came during a call from the parents. The child is in the hospital, with what looks to be a ruptured spleen.

This is why I'm glad my son isn't playing football anymore. But I didn't say that.

Coach New Fella is worried. He said, "I thought we did everything right for him...." I'm sure they did. I mean, what can you be expected to do on a football field? There are no diagnostics for that situation. You sit him down and call the kid's parents, which is what he did. But New Fella worries about "his" kids. He made the comment to me a couple of weeks ago that the thing he hates about coaching is that if something goes wrong, it can effect your standing as a teacher. He's a great teacher. He loves teaching, with all his heart. I know this is something he's fearing again, right now, as he waits for news on this young boy.

I wish his school was closer. I'd take him a nice lunch, kiss him, wrap my arms around him, and try to ease it all for a little while. But it's in another town, and I work, too. Dang.

Instead, I did what I can -- I sent a text. An "I know you're worried, and I'm hoping for good news with you" kind of message. I hope it helps a little, and he doesn't think it's too corny or gushy or whatever.

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Now playing: Theory of a Deadman - In the Middle
via FoxyTunes

4 comments:

Sgt said...

Sort of a psychological rollercoaster post ;-)

Ol' green eyes sounds like a great coach. As I recall my highschool days of soccer. I took a hard kick in the lower back and as I stood there thinking I was about to spit out my innards, my coach just screamed to get back on the ball. Turned out to be a bruised kidney that bastard!

Sorry for your stress. Hopefully you'll both get a chance to wind down and enjoy the company.

Blogget Jones said...

Yeah, "psychological rollercoaster" is a good description of the last couple of weeks.

My son had coaches in Texas who were just like the one you describe. Sgt! Of course, Texas football is infamous. He ripped up his MCL last year and was told that if he went to a doctor about it, he'd be "punished." Stupidass coaches.

But this guy is a different sort of coach. It's all about the kids, not the games.

And thanks ;o) I hope we get that chance, too.

Krissie said...

~~> 16yr olds are dumb. It's just how it goes. Some grow out of it, some don't.
~~> I too only call when I have something to say. And I'm a girl. Weirdo much?
~~> I really hope all goes well. It's a good thing he worries about the kids, though. Shows you just what kind of a man he is, doesn't it?

Blogget Jones said...

Krissie: Gawd, I hope he grows out of it, for his own sake (if not for my sanity)!

With the phone thing, I guess it's not strictly along gender lines! I overgeneralized, but it's something I have to keep in mind with him. He sooooo bad about calling.

And you're right -- shows what kind of man he is. I'm glad to see that, having known so many bad coaches. I think the difference is that for him the coaching is incidental, and the teaching is what he loves.