Mr B

I love my boy. I love him a lot. I feel really guilty though. I get so mad at him sometimes. Sometimes I have to remind myself he’s just a kid.

Little man is 11 now. Got braces last month because his teeth were so overcrowded in his mouth. He’s moody and temperamental. He’s argumentative and makes excuses for everything. He always talks when he shouldn’t and won’t talk when he should. He used to tell me he wanted brothers and sisters, then my niece and nephew moved here and he decided he liked his alone time. He is very sensitive and my dad hates that about boys, so he gets mad about it.

He says he just walking backwards, but I think he looks pretty mad there. I don’t understand him. He won’t talk to me. When he does, he doesn’t always tell me the truth and then when I get all worked up he will tell me the truth. My parents spoil him rotten one minute (like getting him an XBox for his birthday) and then get mad at him for everything the next minute. They want to be the cool grandparents but then also be the strict parents (which I hate both of, but I can’t say anything because then I get accused of being ungrateful). I take him on picture taking adventures, picnics at the zoo and other stuff that doesn’t include spending lots of money. My mom takes him to all the new movies and bought him snow boarding gear for an early Christmas present. I try to just be an understanding parent, but then he works my last nerve when I am the tiredest from work. And I worry that I am being like my mother and going to kill his self-esteem.

He loves soccer but doesn’t want to give anything extra to it. Would be a really good player if he wouldn’t be so lazy about it. He complains about his chores. Won’t clean up after himself without being told and does much of his work only half caring. I feel that everything I tell him goes in one ear and out there other. That he figures nana or papa will give in to him eventually. They may get the maddest at him for his bad attitude and pouting but he chooses to spend most of his time with them and I have to make him spend a day with me.

I hope against everything that if you are reading this you don’t think I am complaining about him. I am just so confused. I know that things will change when we get moved into our own house, that we have lived in my parents’ house too long. But sometimes I don’t see that I have done a very good job. He is an only child. He doesn’t, nor ever will, know his father. No man has wanted to come into our life and be his dad. I don’t like that, but can’t change that either.

I want his life to be better than mine. Want him to not rely on other people, to be able to make his own place in the world. But with people by his side. I want him to have people in his life he can always depend on. To choose a good degree, that will actually get him jobs. I want him to be comfortable but also work for his place and money. I don’t want him to think he is entitled to anything, and want him to not judge others. I want him to see life as good and colorful and great. That anything is the limit when he puts in mind and heart to it.

I think maybe I messed up by giving up my life. I felt that if I couldn’t finish grad school and take care of him (and let my parents convince me he was better off staying with them) then I didn’t need to have fun or play or do anything other than school or work. I did have a little bit of a life after grad school, while I lived in Austin, but that ended when I moved here 8 1/2 years ago. I am an employee, a mother, a loner. And I think maybe I have not set a good picture to him. I can’t imagine what his teenage years are going to be like when he already treats me like I’m not cool enough now. Above everything I hope he always know I love him.