Feeling Rough, but Going On

I have to admit to feeling pretty rough today, even though I am trying so hard not to think about how bad I feel.  Life has been really busy around my house lately.  Jalen has been in project mode.  Duke has been working six days a week pretty regularly as of late, and this week his cousin Myles is in the States, so he has been visiting with him and getting home later than usual.  I have been dealing with Jalen and homework a lot one on one, and he is taking advantage of his dad being busy and is trying to rebel against mom with his little 12 year old swagger, which makes me have to bow back and remind him who is really the boss—me.  Don’t get me wrong, I can still handle him, but it does take a lot of wind out of my sails, there is no way of masking, and he tries to take advantage, as kids will do, especially willful ones like the Mighty Jalen (Okay, Mommee, quit laughing from “Beyond the Clouds”.  Yes, I know I am getting it back tenfold.).  But that’s when I do the tag team parenting thing and put him on the phone with his dad, and when Duke finishes laying down the law, even from afar, Jalen straightens up and unpuffs that little chest.  Above all of that, I think the effects of Monday’s fall and all of this torrential rain have taken their toll on my body, and I am feeling aches in muscles that I forgot that I had, lol.  I slept pretty much all day again today, falling asleep on Andy and Barney, through the midday news, waking up just in time to see Ronan Farrow and Joy Reid, and prepare for Jalen to get home from school.  I like to be up when he leaves for school, and when he gets home from school.  I think that adds to his stability as a child.  I am thankful that I thought to take an ibuprofen, and now, as I am shucking corn to make the corn pudding that Jalen asked about yesterday and that he is helping me fix up for the oven in a few minutes, I am feeling pretty good.  I am writing my blog, and Jalen has been given a half hour of play time outside under the condition that he jumps right on his homework without complaint when he comes back inside.  In this moment of quiet relaxation, my song for every occasion is Eddie Kane’s, from The Five Heartbeats, “I Feel Like Going On”.  My happy place, my spirit, is still intact, though my body admits a little defeat for wear and tear.

In the last three weeks, I have supervised and supported Jalen as he worked on projects in language arts and social studies (an ABC book on WWI), science (a 3-D animal cell), art (a recycled garment, website, business card, and portfolio of fashions), and due this Friday, math (a foldable of math terms and definitions).  He has another language arts project due in a few weeks, a comic strip based on a book he has read and not already done a project on this year.  These have all been really fantastic projects, so many opportunities for creative thinking and out of the box learning.  Perhaps you ask, “Then why am I tired in this instance”?  Being Jalen’s supervisor is tough work because he believes in the mode of doing just enough to get by, slapping down “just the facts, Jack” and he is done.  Finito, finished, it’s a wrap.  The teacher in me cannot abide such a trifling, cavalier attitude, tossing aside such smarts, creativity, and talents in such an apathetic manner.  Because if Jalen senses that kind of weakness in you, one of a low bar of expectations, that is exactly what he will give you.  His dad and I really get on him, and when we are aware, as we try always to be, of major assignments, duties, and commitments, we force the issue of giving one’s best.  Anything less is unacceptable.  That does not mean he has to be perfect, but perfection, 100% completion to the best of one’s abilities, should always be the goal.  It’s that self-motivation and drive that we want to instill in him; we will not always be here on this Earth, so as his parents it is our duty to teach him, one we take quite seriously.  It is a blessing and a curse that his mama was/is also a teacher, for I look at his projects through my teacher eyes and according to the assignment rubric.  I make sure he completes, and re-does as needed, everything he needs to do to make his project a good one, even if it means my doing a little research or reading so that I know he is shooting straight from the hip.  My son is smart, but he “uses his powers for evil and not for good”, as I tell him sometimes, jokingly facetious, but serious in intent, nonetheless.  He gets it, and even though we do willful battle to the point where I am exhausted, the resulting projects are always amazing to me. The things he comes up with when pushed to exercise his innate talents, and earn a stellar grade that he is really proud of, whether he admits it or not, are satisfying to us both.

 I am tired, yes, but I am also committed to my children and being supportive of their talents and dreams.  I am plodding along, hoping that life will be generous and give me the luxury of time to realize my dream—getting my car outfitted with hand controls so that I can be more mobile and independent.  I often lament about my inability to drive myself around, but it also hurts me that my disability affects Jalen because I can’t get around and be the football or basketball or baseball mom or karate mom or band mom (all activities Jalen is interested in) like I was with Jordan (basketball mom supreme, even down to the crazy basketball hat I made and wore to every game during his freshman high school season).  I miss having the means and the strength to be able to travel with Jalen like we did with Jordan when he played AAU basketball.  I regret that I can’t let Jalen stay after school for activities because he has no way home in a reasonable, dependable fashion.  This guilt that I feel from my living with this disability takes its toll on all of us with delicious delight.  I try to balance my fussing with him between being a parent who is trying desperately to survive and being a 12 year old kid who just wants to be like his peers.  I know he feels so much resentment that his mom is sick, and he feels left out, like he has a grandma for a mom.  And I wrestle with having the energy and the faculties to deal with all that life has given me, the good and the bad of it all.  We cannot control the hand we are dealt, only the way we play the hand.

As I reread this blog and bring it to a close, I don’t know how I jumped from Jalen’s projects to my little pity party, but it is how I feel, and all of these feelings contribute to my fatigue, which is constant and ever present.  The way I compose my mind to deal with my life is my strength, and I am learning to be true to that part of myself through my writing.  I am letting my writing lead me and comfort me, and keep me in my happy place.  I would like to end today’s blog with a little of my creative, motherly spirit, a poem to my son, and Eddie Kane’s, “I Feel Like Going On”.  Peace and love.

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iw2rzc1RgVA

 

A Prayer Poem, For My Son

Hey there son, with your hard, hard, head

I pray every day you don’t end up dead.

I wonder, I wonder, what will I say,

If they book you, convict, you, and send you away.

I try every day, to show you the right way,

To read and to study, and to learn every day.

You have what it takes, as smart as a whip,

But you shun it, rebuff it, and don’t give a flip.

I flex my muscles and pump up the pace.

You glare at me defiantly, a scowl on your face.

I love you, I love you; I pray you will see,

And change your ways, for yourself, and not for me.

Acknowledge the lessons, hold fast to your dreams.

Life is not as bad as it seems.

Know your brother loves you, your mom and dad care.

Family is steadfast and true, and will always be there.

This is my prayer, my sincere wish for you.

Open your eyes, and your heart, and you’ll feel it, too.

1/26/14