DREAM BIG: A BLOG FOR MY SON

If you follow me on Facebook you are quite aware of all of my “Andy-isms”. Andy is my 12 year old son. He is hilarious. Very dry sense of humor, quick-witted, very affectionate with me, extremely artistic (surprising but true), notices all details of everything, loves the mountains, loves the outside, LOVES soccer and HATES school.

Andy has severe ADHD. You know that crazy little “I can’t sit still disorder” that I have written about before. I have also written that a lot of people just don’t get it. Ive seen posts about how “back in the day” it was just called being a kid or he needs a good butt kicking. Im kind of over all of that. I get that some people don’t get it. I totally do. Get it or not, at the end of each day WE as parents have to deal with this jewel of a disorder. Somedays we deal with it ok. But the honest to God truth is that most days we don’t deal with it so well.

Unfortunately for Andy he has a mother with zero to no patience and a Dad who rivals Stephen Hawking in the smarts department. Kid drew the short straw in the game of “best parents to have when you have ADHD”.

We had a conference with his teachers this week. I will not go into detail but lets just say it wasn’t the first time I had visions of him living in my basement at 32 playing video games. Im pretty sure on the car ride home Patrick & I were thinking of ways to blame this on each other. But with husband’s stupid ass brain rot I am trying really hard not to be an ass (most of the time).

Now to top things off Andy has Maddie for a big sister. She is one grade ahead of him in school and the teachers thing she hung the moon. She’s THAT kid. National Jr Honor Society, Student Council, well liked, well behaved, over a 4.0 GPA! Annoying as crap. I mean WE ARE SOOOO PROUD! And Andy is “Maddie’s little brother”. Im sure thats a treat.

I worry about my kids as we all do. I worry about their future, I worry about grades, if their hearts will get broken, if they’ll get Ebola, if they will drive safely, if they REALLY will call me from that party when they are too drunk to drive and trust that Ill come get them because I’d rather them live than be so scared of their parent’s rules and punishment that they drive anyway. (Thank you Dad- you saved me:)- and taught me A LOT about parenting).

For Maddie I worry more that she will take over the world and force us all to be vegetarians. Basically- Im pretty sure that kid’s gonna be ok. With Andy its different. And if you have an “Andy” you get it. And I often post on Facebook about his school grades or him not brushing his teeth or knowing where his own head is. I get some flack for airing my kids dirty laundry. Oh well. I gave up trying to please others awhile back. Im not gonna lie its TOUGH parenting this kid. I quit parenting Maddie about 5 years ago….I felt I was doing more harm than good…trust me she’s fine.

But I always worry that Im doing it wrong with my son. I baby him A LOT. I do a lot of things for him. I cut the crust off of his sandwiches- SHUT UP! But he hugs me. He hugs me A LOT and cuddles with me and tells me he loves me all the time and smiles with big dimples when he wants something. So sue me. Im not gonna look back someday and say “I wish I had done less for my kid”. THAT WILL BE HIS WIFE’S PROBLEM LOLOLOL!

So as I am worrying about his future and him living in my basement and what the heck kind of job he’ll have I run across this picture HE posted on his Instagram account. And I cry. Andy has big dreams. All kids do- its just a matter of tuning into them. He may not be a rocket scientist, or hell he may I don’t know. But all this time I thought he lacked “drive” I was wrong. He is driven. He does have big dreams. He does look ahead. He has goals…they just may not match up with what me or society had in mind. Today Im going to worry a little less. Im pretty sure he’s going to be ok.

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1 thought on “DREAM BIG: A BLOG FOR MY SON

  1. Great read Jen! Just keep feeding the dreams he has. They may not be yours, but they are dreams. And that’s a good thing.

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