continuation of the "to be continued"

I thought about this after getting under the covers and wondered why I chose to stop when I did.  The end of the story is the least complicated part and requires so little  explanation; really, just a brief description of my mistake.

"Fresh start."  I was so exited for my sons to have a fresh start.  Then I got those calls saying he wasn't doing well and I was blown away.  All I could think was "How could he squander his fresh start."

He didn't feel like he'd squandered it at all, though.  He was making friends and loved the band and his teachers were cool.  They were so anxious to give him some input into what he was going to study, so he wouldn't refuse to do work just because he was told to.  He loves being in a bigger group with a more diverse crowd.  I think it feels good to him because it affirms his conviction that being different is important and good, so long as those differences enhance the caliber of person you seek to become.

He did get a fresh start.  It was his mother that didn't get what she wanted.  I wanted his fresh start to mean another chance to do what I've been asking him to do for years:  gain immediate self discipline and start getting perfect grades, since he'd realize how smart and capable he was as soon as he got into a new environment.  After I got so mad at him when the phone calls came in, I was thinking about it later and arguing about it with my ex-husband and it suddenly hit me like a bat outta hell-I was stealing his fresh start and defining it and pigeon holing him.  I kept telling him I wanted him to talk to me about "what was going wrong," when it was all fine for him.  It wasn't a conscience thing.  I had just assumed this would be the case.  Now that I know what I've done and that it was wrong, I've made a supreme effort to admit my failings to him out loud but far more importantly, I've made a choice to tell him that I want him to have his own fresh start.  I want him to feel like he can still talk to me and like we're still so close as he develops his ideas and searches his heart, mind and soul for his passion, not mine.  I don't want him to dislike me so much for pushing him into something I want, that he doesn't let me in on what he's thinking and when he decides what it is he wants and what makes him feel passionate.

This is a kid who wants to live in a tattoo parlor.  He wants to take auto shop.  He wants to throw moon pies at the principle and find a way for everyone, including the principle, to have fun.  He is who he is and I'm beyond blessed to have him n my life.

I'm going to stop shoving myself down his throat and step back and see what his dreams are; in which directions will he find the concepts and ideas about which he'll be passionate?

I can tell we are both relieved after having this talk about expectations and it's about time we are each allowed to feel relieved because we've both worked so hard and I truly never thought I was stealing anything from him.  Now I realize that he's been trying so much harder than I have.  I've just been trying to get him to do what I think he should.  He, on the other hand, has had to put aside any wondering and dreaming about who and what he loves to constantly hear how disappointed everyone s in him.

I'm not disappointed in him anymore.  It went away as soon as those bats came swooping down.  No, I am simply so very thankful that I have the time to change this for our love for each other.  For a mother and a thirteen year old son who will still hold her hand in public, to have barely avoided this real threat to our future and to the deep connection we've always had was a near miss of what could have been one of those every day tragedies that don't get noticed, but that ruin important relationships forever.

I'm so grateful my son will have a chance to find his wholeness-Spirit healed and intact.  Maybe I shouldn't say this as if it were a certainty but it is, not because of who I am or what I'll do as a mother.  No, it's because of who he is.  And I can see it in his eyes.  He's really just been waiting for someone to give him a break so he can figure HIMSELF out.  On of my favorite quotes and one I write in notes and letters to my children is:  "It's never to late to be who you were meant to be."  I believe that for everyone.  I believe that for my sons.