When I wrote yesterday about everyone constantly talking to me, I was overstating the situation—not only because people aren’t literally constantly talking to me, but also because it isn’t everyone: I hear from Rob and William so little, it’s possible to occasionally forget they’re living here, as I sort of did when I was writing yesterday’s post.
I find this distressing. I would probably be more distressed if they were constantly hanging around near me and talking to me about everything, since they are supposed to be semi-independent college students at this point—but just as it is possible to be too hot at one temperature and too cold at another, and just as it is possible to be overly hungry before eating and overly full afterward, it is possible to worry about too much interaction and also about too little.
Well, they have each other, and I do like that. They could be talking to each other a LOT, as college roommates might. They could be managing their lives exactly right: simulating as much as possible the living-away-from-home experience they’d be having if there weren’t a pandemic. Managing their own meals, managing their own schedules, NOT being constantly in contact with parents/siblings. But sometimes they seem to actively avoid us, to the point where it does hurt my feelings. William in particular seems annoyed whenever we approach him to ask him something—and it isn’t as if we approach him many times a day, it’s like once or twice a day, to ask things he seems to WANT to be asked, such as does he want me to make him some dinner when I make dinner for everyone else (usually no, but sometimes yes). And they don’t have the REPLACEMENT things they’d have if they didn’t have us: the roommates, the friends, the classmates, the professors, the other people at the dining hall tables, etc. So I do worry. (But at least they are not two more people constantly talking to me.)
When our boys were in college and one of them acted like William is acting now, my ex told me it was because this son was the one still struggling with being independent and needing to assert himself more strongly to prove he did not need parents. So every time my son “rejected” me I tried to remember it was not really about rejection of me but the young man still coming into full maturity.
Don’t get me wrong, I still cried in the shower sometimes but it helped a lot to view things in those terms.
I wondered about this yesterday, probably because I have two high schoolers at home and they are generally not around, and certainly not swinging by to talk to me unless it’s to ask why Fios is out again. And I am maybe not remember the child configuration correctly, but I’d have thought it would be Rob treating you like a useless interloper and William maybe being absent a lot but nice to you when your paths crossed.
My own useless fret below, and everyone can skip it but I want to get it out somewhere and my blog is fossilized:
My oldest went back to college, which was the right choice for him, given the college’s virus-management plans and my child’s needs. BUT. We don’t hear from him much, and when we do he seems pretty unhappy in ways that make me worry this was not the best choice after all. And I can’t ask about it or make suggestions so I just spend a lot of mental energy wondering which questions I can ask and how often I can initiate contact. He’s not the type to just dump on us, feel better, and continue on his way; he is OK about sharing his feelings but unless it’s crisis, he has usually walked himself through his options. The boy needs a hug and there’s no way for him to get one.
I have a son living in SF — he moved into his apt in March and was immediately quarantined. They are still very strict. I worry about too much alone time and his anxiety. I would pay $1,000,000 to give him a hug
This sounds hard TOO, in a way that is totally opposite to yesterday’s difficulty but also SO HARD.
I know I complained on the last post about not getting 5 minutes to think due to interruptions but I perversely also have the no communication issue with Oldest. He’s a senior in HS and dragging information out of him is exhausting. He actively does not want to be near us often and although I understand bcs I remember feeling that way about my mom when I was a senior, H struggles with it, so I do the emotional labor of working through it with him while also dealing with Oldest’s desire to be independent at a time when that is physically impossible due to COVID and fires. I’m tired.
It’s a boy thing, I think. Getting Man-Child to talk to me at all during those ages was difficult at best. To be completely honest, it’s still a slog. He WILL be more open on his terms but for the most part, it’s a text conversation mostly (well, that’s also because both of us are phone call averse). But the fact that he calls his dad every day for no good reason? Hurts my feelings a bit. The Husband tells me that he really isn’t saying anything in the calls…but still.
Oof. My oldest (13) is tougher on me than my husband and … yeah. Dude, I grew you, and birthed you, and nursed you and was the one who went to you when you cried and knew all about your teachers and classmates and still knows what you like to wear and still buys all your gifts and now… you just want your dad? harumph.
I think about this post so frequently and like all of your blog it comforts me. Someone else who is a parent that likes to talk has sons who don’t (at least with her). I envy the fact that the boys are happy with one another. My two were pals when they were little and now they basically ignore each other and that feels hostile to me (and I am not imagining it). I was with my youngest in a car with a friend and they were on their phones the entire drive. Later I asked if such a long car ride in silence didn’t feel awkward? He answered “do you feel like it’s awkward to NOT talk??!” with such surprise that I was actually comforted. Maybe he’s just like that. But I do remember a preschooler who exhausted me with his chatter and I miss it.
Thanks for sharing your life so well. I’m very appreciative of your candor (and, of course, your fantastic sense of humor).