What I'm not saying about my kids

When my kids were young, it was fun to write about them.  Often, it was also funny to write about them. [Favorite older post about stockpiling emergency pants goes here.]  My goodness, what a cast of characters I've surrounded myself by!

But as my kids have turned into teenagers and young adults, many of the stories about them have gotten simultaneously more interesting and also more private.   I crossed a bad line at one point when I wrote a blog post about something one of my kids did, and my kid REALLY didn't like that post, and I've tried hard not to cross that line again.   (I took the post down, and apologized, but it took a while to build up trust again . . . as it should have; I was wrong). 

The thing is, though, these transition times my kids have faced are REALLY surprisingly fraught.   There's been so much for my kids and me to deal with that I haven't been able to write about in the specific.   And at the same time, I know it's not just me, and I've felt like it's kind of important to acknowledge that parenting in this transition time can be a real . . . what's the word? A real adventure/challenge/delight.  An advenchallight.  

I'm not alone in having family advenchallights.  My friends withi similar-aged offspring have stories that often make mine pale by comparison.  I don't see stories like ours on parenting blogs -- probably because that privacy stuff that keeps me so silent keeps other parents silent for similar reasons, and yet these stories seem to be EVERYWHERE around me in real life.  It seems like, at just the time that it might be most helpful and reassurring to share these stories, the blogosphere has gone silent.  

In fact, my friends and I have accummulated enough of these aventchallights that I think I've figured out a way to share a bit of what my family has been going through without over-sharing.  And that is, instead of telling you just about what's happened with my own family these past half-dozen years or so, I'll tell you what's happened to a LOT of families I know and love.  Here goes.  

My friends and I, here are some of the experiences we've been through:

We've had kids who dropped out of college.

We've had kids who have been kicked out of college.

We've had kids who got in trouble with the law for possessing/selling marijuana.

We've had kids who got addicted to heroin, and who continue to battle that addiction.

We've had kids who got romantically involved with scary people (I'm thinking of an alcoholic with guns, here)

We've had kids who got in trouble with the law for stealing from cars.

We've had kids who have been hospitalized repeatedly for severe, suicidal depression.

We've had kids whose self-care is so poor, they had a limb amputated after diabetes-related complications.

We've had kids who can't/won't get a job, and kids who get fired from jobs. 

We've had kids who moved out and have been homeless.

We've had kids we kicked out of our homes as a measure of "tough love". 

Many of these stories have aspects of redemptive healing.   Take that kid who dropped out of college, for example:  that kid audited classes at another college, and has since transferred to that other college and is thriving and thrilled to be there.  It's the kind of happy plot twist a disinterested bystander might have predicted, but while they were in the middle of helping their kid, the parents had no idea things might turn out this well.   

Or take the kid who was charged with stealing: the parents and the kid learned from the cop who charged the kid about a program our state calls ARD (Accelerated Rehabilitative Disposition).  It's essentially parole without conviction -- a chance to try to redeem yourself and eventually (if you do prove yourself), start over with a clean record instead of carrying around a criminal conviction for life.  It's not the kind of thing I read about in many parenting blogs, but it is an awesome thing to know about when you need it.

Some of these stories are unbelievably hard.  I'm thinking of dealing with kids addicted to heroin, here, because heroin is a TERRIBLY addictive drug that comes with side effects of lying and stealing and ruining relationships.  Rehab is expensive, and usually doesn't take the first or second or even fifth time.   Or I'm thinking of reorganizing an entire house (screwing the windows shut, locking away the knives) to protect kids who waver in and out of being suicidal.  It's not at all what you're thinking about when you have that baby shower, or when you name your child after someone you want to honor, or when you start that book of milestones.  But unbelievably hard can be a part of parenting, too.  

I'm writing all this because I think it's important for people to know that these stories exist:  if you're going through them, you're not alone.  If you're not going through them, it's entirely possible that people around you ARE going through them and just don't feel like they can share.  

I'm also writing this because I feel like not having said this is like putting forward a false face.  When C-son was in our house, and then when he had to leave our house --- that was really hard.  But I felt like it was helpful to me, and maybe to some other people, to write about that.  Part of me wishes I could keep doing that.   The happy bubbly stuff I usually write about is all true, and I'm so glad about those parts of the story.  Seriously.  (Or, *happily", I guess.)   

But the happy bubbly stuff isn't the whole truth, and I even though I can't tell the whole truth without crossing some crucial lines, I wanted to acknowledge that that truth exists, as well.