Because I'm a Mom

From the moment my daughter Jordan walked into my room in pain, I was "on". That is what moms do, it's one of our strengths. I don't turn into a panicky mom. I use humor and laughter to get through. We dressed in minutes, made it to the car and laughed all the way to the 24 hour ER clinic, in between breathing through sharp stomach pains, of course.

It was odd for me to have the admitting and attending nurses address all questions to my daughter, not me. She is 21, now. An adult. She was amazing to watch as she described her condition over and over to the various health professionals. After an hour and a CAT scan, it was determined she needed to have surgery...quickly. Now, the phone calls.

I am a Latina. From a long line of strong, Tejana women. Once the phone calls start, widespread prayers, candles and vigils spring into action. I am the ONE who has to keep it together. I don't fall apart. There are others who will, but not me. Because I am a Mom, I am the rock. I am the comic relief.

My husband and I opted to drive our girl to the hospital ourselves. My parents and my sister met us there. (Mexicans do not wait alone in waiting rooms.) The Boy, our son Joshua, waited with friends. My oldest stepdaughter joined us, as well. Everyone was concerned, but understood it was a routine surgery but, still...it IS surgery, as my mother reminded me.

Jordan and I had a few good laughs in pre-op, before they wheeled her away. Our "thing" is quoting movie/TV lines. We did lines from "Arthur", "Friends" and to keep it a little dark, "Steel Magnolias", ("Open your eyes, Shelby...open, open open your eyes".)
I'm sure some people think we can be inappropriate at times, but humor has ALWAYS been our default mode.

In the waiting room, my husband was way more unnerved than I expected. She is Daddy's girl, alright. I had to keep him up. My parents, who have been through their medical nightmare this past year with Dad's heart attack and surgery, were worried. My sister, the awesome "cool aunt", was helpful and attentive to my parents, so I could concentrate on my husband. Separately, in the waiting room, there was a young woman, who upon receiving good news from a doctor in regards to her mother's liver transplant, wept alone. She was not Mexican. I quietly went and sat next to her and rubbed her back for support, because I am a Mom.

Thankfully, everything went well and, because I'm a Mom, I spent the night with my 21 year old girl. We had nurses and doctors check on her every two hours, through the night. I was hoping someone would check on the hospital AC...it was freezing. Nothing like a hospital sleepover to a) help you appreciate your health,  b) help you appreciate the comforts of your own home,  c) help you catch a horrible cold.

My husband and The Boy were at the hospital by 7am the next morning. After 30 minutes of "The Today Show", Joshua was hungry, so as the Mom, I insisted they go to the amazing cafeteria and have breakfast, where he thoroughly enjoyed biscuits and gravy and a plate of sushi...18 year boys! When they returned, it took about another 30 minutes before they were trying to get comfortable in the small room for a nap. So, as the Mom, I insisted they go back home, as we were hoping to be discharged by noon, anyway. Then, as the Mom, I cleaned and organized the room, got Jordan dressed, washed her hair, packed our belongings, watered her flowers, left notes for the fabulous staff and we were ready and discharged by 11am. I was already on my 3rd giant Starbucks of the morning.

We loaded her in the wheelchair/cart and we were off for home...to REST. We waited in the valet line with the other discharged patients (I know, Methodist Hospital in Houston is amazing). We took pictures, sent texts and laughed to pass the short wait. Then, the 4 valet attendants appeared.

I went to push her chair, but the first valet politely swatted me away while he wheeled her towards the car and gently helped her in the seat. I turned to open the hatch of my Prius, but another valet beat me to it and wouldn't let me help. I turned to start unloading the cart of our belongings and another valet insisted he had it covered. In utter confusion, I started towards the driver's seat. I was face to face with the fourth valet. He took the Starbucks from my hand and the purse from my shoulder, placed them both in the car, turned, put his hand on my arm and said to me, "Mama, all you have to do is take her home and rest. We have this."

I tipped and thanked them profusely, I got in the car and quietly drove off...it is a Prius. And, because I'm a Mom, I finally had my cry.

And, then Jordan and I busted out laughing.

3 steps forward, 2 steps back

Your college freshman is home! You are so proud. Hell, he graduated from high school and got into college, all in this past year. Wow!

3 steps forward.

However, the first winter break for college Freshman is a very long, exhausting break. And, not just for the parents. These kids come home and try and reconnect with every friend they've had since middle school, cram in visits with grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins all while trying to catch up on their coveted sleep. You can try and set up dentist and doctor appointments, but don't have your heart set on it.

And, parents, get ready to roll out all of the old mantras all over again. "Don't drink. Call me if you do. Don't do drugs. We will come get you whatever time. Remember what happened to___________" (insert your local tragic teen story here...sadly, there are too many.)

It seems that many of these newbie young adults revert right back to that high school mentality of living in the moment and throwing consequence to the wind. Life is a party! Even worse, they don't have jobs or school responsibilities to keep them on any kind of schedule. Over the long break, the college-ness begins to wear off. I keep wondering, where is that college kid we saw at Parents Weekend back in October? The one that knew his way around Boston, walked confidently through the school, actually woke up and met us for brunch? Will he be showing up again soon? Or does he only reside in Boston?

2 steps back.

It has come up more than once, these past few weeks, the idea of which childhood relationships are real and which are just being kept alive through the magic and wonder of Facebook. Just because a "friend" posts a party on FB doesn't mean everyone has to show up. The fact that we were having these discussion made me feel that these savvy kids know the difference.

3 steps forward.

Every evening, I watch our kids' beautiful faces illuminate with that bluish hue of their iPhone screens, as they scroll all of the possibilities for the night. Then, in a very non committal tone:

The Boy: Well, 'so and so' is going to 'so and where' and there's a bunch of people going, so I might meet up with them.

Me: Oh? I don't remember 'so and so'.

The Boy: Mom, remember? Sophomore year. That guy.

That guy. Oh, sure. THAT guy. Wow! With these communication skills, we are almost right back in high school. I will give credit by saying "almost". He actually used words, not monosyllabic grunts.

2 steps back.

I have always tried to parent our teens with my memory of being a teen close at hand. I never wanted to condemn their friends, their choice of dates or any of their ideas. (Except for piercings and tattoos. 2 out of 4 heard me.) I remember what it felt like when my parents didn't understand.

"Oh, my God! You, like, have no idea of what MY life is like!

You are so lame!

I'm, like, so embarrassed for you."

(yeah, yeah... I grew up in the 80's, whatever.)

So, I do remember being home on Friday nights, thinking I might be missing a party where the cute boy I liked might be. But with FB, you KNOW you are missing the party and you can actually see pictures of the cute boy you like, when you are reading it on Facebook...at home...on a Friday night...like some loser!

I get it, really I do. I guess I just want my super amazing parenting skills to wash over The Boy and have him mature now. I keep thinking I will have this deep conversation with him and he will have that Oprah "Aha Moment". Everything that I am trying to protect him from: mistakes from poor decisions, speeding tickets, hangovers from cheap beer...they are exactly the experiences he needs to learn, to grow and to finally mature.

This morning, early for a Sunday, I picked him up at a friends house where he had "crashed" for the night. He got in the car and said "Mom, thank you so much for picking me up. I really appreciate it. I'm sorry it is so early." We got home, made breakfast and then he asked his dad if he wanted to watch a movie with him.

3 steps forward.