When my son was around eight, he started to get into football. He asked me what a touchback was and I came up with some ridiculous fucking answer like if the player didn’t touch the ball with two hands they have to give the ball back. Accepting my role as a dad, a week later I got him the game Madden and he quickly learned I was full of shit. I’m glad we still laugh about it. I had to learn to research before I answer, I had to learn to be one step ahead of him with male knowledge. In the early days of his life, I was the one who took him to his first football game, basketball game, hockey game, and baseball game. It was me standing on the sidelines of his soccer games and football games. It was my house all the kids came to, my house for the sleepovers.
Just when I got a grasp on not bullshitting my way thru sports, my son got into Minecraft. And after a few DMs with his beloved Stampycat, I had that kid on Forge FTP servers doing mad shit in his worlds. Oh, those tiny wins meant the world to me.
Again, it wasn’t always rainbows and puppy dogs, but I’m damn proud of myself and him.
I may have overcompensated quite a bit with his upbringing, so what? Did I spoil the shit out of him? Damn straight. For every wrong decision I felt I made for him, I have hundreds of right ones. None of it changes that he grew up without a dad and without a male role model.
As parents, we make sacrifices for our kids. And let me be crystal fucking clear, as a single mother I made a shit ton of sacrifices. I don’t resent him for any of this. The reward is that I have an awesome kid. And I would do it all over again.
He graduated high school a few weeks ago and is headed off to college next year. He’s got a full-time job learning man shit, which I’m incredibly grateful for. He’s got a wonderful girlfriend and great friends. He’s so damn smart, he’s not a follower and has never gotten in any trouble. Like I said, he’s an incredible kid.
So why do I feel like he hates me? Lately, our conversations have been short in passing. It’s hard to get him to open up to me. When I tell him about my day, he’s deep in thumb exercises (scrolling on his phone). On the brief occasions when I make him smile it’s like I just got awarded the Noble Prize.
I’m not a helicopter mom… anymore. I’ve learned to let loose of the reigns and give him his freedom (thank you iPhone for letting me track him). I’ve let him make his own decisions, with little to no guidance… after all, it’s his life. But maybe I have let go too much because I feel like I’m losing him. Our deep connection of snuggles in bed is long gone. I feel like when we spend time together he’s completely dissociated, sound familiar?
Why do I feel like I’m in a constant state of letting him down? Maybe I’m not asking the right questions, because the questions I do ask seem like I’m nagging him. Even though I deeply miss the connection we had when it was just us, I realize that I have to allow our relationship to grow and become a different connection. Does he hate me? I hope not. Will I be able to handle him moving on to the next phase of his life? Probably not.
Call the Air Force and get me a license cuz disbih gonna fire up the chopper.