Sure, I have some really nice things that I indulge myself with on occasion. But not my children. They want things. Things that everyone else has. Like that damn hoverboard. As much as I tell them those things will only satisfy you for about 5 minutes, they just don’t get it. My girls are in the midst of middle school and I’m fighting a losing battle in this town where the money seems to grow on trees. They like to shop. I don’t.
Other than my mortgage being paid off, the gift of time is the only gift that I truly want. Before this year, my children had never actually purchased a gift for me. All I wanted was a handwritten card. But my girls love to shop. So, I reluctantly give them my credit card and send them on their mission to buy gifts for me and their dad. Lizzie had already used the money she earned making good grades to buy her sister and brothers their gifts. Yep. She works her ass off all semester to make straight A’s and then uses her cash to buy her siblings gifts. Proud parenting moment.
Off they go on their mission to buy me something. Sweet. Not necessary but thoughtful, nonetheless. The girls bought me a coffee mug with a moose on it from Keystone. Perfect. I drink coffee everyday so now as I sip my coffee each day, my thoughts can trail off to Keystone where I took them skiing before Christmas this year.
Nothing like a quick getaway to the slopes to refresh your spirits. Experiences (especially in the snow) are far better than ANY “thing”. My 9 year old son is already better than me at skiing. He is my fearless leader down the hill on those slippery slopes. “Follow me, Mom.” Words I’m not used to hearing. Love that! It was just 2 years ago that I had to haul him down the mountain with him standing on his skis between my legs. ALL THE WAY down the mountain! Talk about an exhausting experience! I’ve taught all of my kids how to throw a ball, how to play so many of the sports they play. But teaching them how to ski? I need professional help for this. After a private lesson from an incredible instructor and the boy is teaching me how to be a better skier! Best $400 I EVER spent. Talk about a HUGE return on your investment! Few things I enjoy more than skiing with my little guy.
As with any Christmas, I wasn’t expecting much. I’ve learned to keep my expectations low. After many years of disappointment from my parents, it’s simply a natural defense mechanism for me. However. What I received from my oldest shook me to my core. I certainly wasn’t expecting it. Just a book. Ok, not just any book. A poignant one. “You are a Bad Ass.” Of all the books he could have given me, he gave me this one. I could not be more shocked. What 16 year old gives that to his mother? I certainly never thought of my mother as a “bad ass.” Is this what he thinks of me? I’m sure he saw the title and thought, “Yep, my mom is a bad ass.” Truth be told, I did build my house in 90 days. Top to bottom. A million decisions that I made with the clock ticking. I guess that technically makes me a “badass.” But, I’m the farthest thing from a “badass” when it comes to love and relationships. I couldn’t be more of a failure in that area of my life. The premise behind the book is to CHANGE the self-sabotaging beliefs and behaviors that stop you from getting what you want. He couldn’t have been more dead on with this book. Did he know that’s what he was getting for me?
So, it’s 5 am the morning after Christmas and I’m taking my oldest son to the airport. My very independent thinking son. Love this kid. He’s 16 years old and knows what he wants. And goes for it. He’s off to Camp Pendleton for a nine day mini boot camp for his naval sea cadet program in San Diego. I had zero to do with this decision. He did it all. Even cut his hair to a number one buzz cut. His hair. I loved his haircut. But, it’s gone now. It’ll grow back, right? Sure, I had to sign the necessary paperwork and write a check to pay for the experience. But he did everything else. He purchased all the necessary supplies. Packed his own bag. I don’t even know what’s in his government issued green bag. You’ve seen those bags. All the navy guys have them. A large tubular that you carry over the shoulder. It’s the first time in his life that I will have zero contact with him for the entire 9 days. It’s not like camp where they post pics on the internet so you can see how much fun your kid is having at sleep away camp. Nope. Nothing. In the dark. For 9 whole days. This is his adventure. His father and I are just underwriting it.
In my book, my son is the “Bad Ass.” You go get ’em, Rich. This “bad ass” mom couldn’t be prouder of her “bad ass” son! For all the pathetic Christmas’ I had as a kid, you make up for them by just being your “bad ass” self. Thank you for reminding me of that.