The other morning Tucker came downstairs with a handle bar mustache and a goatee drawn in magic marker on his face. “I don’t know how I do that in my sleep Mama,” he innocently stated and I looked over at Brevitt who was giving me his huge mischievous smile. Somehow he had convinced his little brother that he had actually drawn on his own face in his sleep. It was our little secret.

But Tucker is getting a little fed up with his little problem for now Axel is following Brevitt’s lead and also drawing on his brother’s face in his sleep. It’s time for the talk.

Brevitt is pushing his boundaries and I am doing all that I can to hang in there and teach him how to listen to authority and to not get himself into trouble. I find that nighttime is our best time to communicate. “Anybody want to take a walk with me and Muki?” I yelled out before stepping off into the dark for a beautiful summer evening walk around the neighborhood. Silence ensued and so I left without my little male companions. Ten minutes later I heard, “Mommmmmmyyy,” and I called out my signature bird cry so that Brevitt could run toward my voice. He ran up beside me and quickly grabbed my hand, both afraid of and exhilarated by the evening sky and the shadows lurking in the dark.

Soon after we heard screaming and crying, another one of my children disturbing the hood. “Poor neighbors,” Brevitt said. It was Axel who had finished the project that he had been completely engrossed in and had gone into a panic after discovering that he had been left all alone in the house, only he wasn’t alone. Wade was reading upstairs to Tucker before bed and either was ignoring Axel’s screams or somehow did not hear him carrying on. Husbands are talented in that respect, screening out noise disturbances.

Shouting back to Axel from across the neighborhood we directed him to meet us at the fence at the end of the field that we always walk through. Brevitt’s anxiety began to set in as he worried about Axel alone in the dark and so we raced faster and faster until we found him, traumatized that he had been abandoned and racing at top speed on his bike pedaling barefoot in his oversized Homer Simpson pajamas. Brevitt put his arm around Axel and let him know that all was okay.

In an interview between Consumer Health Interactive correspondent, Blyth Woolston, and Clinical Psychologist Dr. William Pollack, author of Real Boys (1998), Dr. Pollack asserts, “Research shows that if a boy has one adult he can open up to in a shame-free way, one adult who cares about him, that boy is going to be healthier, happier, less likely to be depressed, less likely to be violent, more likely to succeed in school, more likely to be open and caring, to have friendships, to succeed in life. The most important thing is for the boy to know that one adult mentor understands him and will listen — someone who will keep an eye out for him and will provide the time. It seems like such a simple task…”

“Lay down with me Mommy, you need to spend time with me,” Brevitt requested the day before he went off to Water Ramp Camp, a program offered through our local Aspen Valley Ski Club.

He was working me. There is such a fine line between sticking to the bedtime routine and taking that precious alone time to connect with your child for as soon as I am in that prostate position exhaustion rapidly sets in and all pent up creativity gets released in my dreams.

“Tickle my back,” he said and as I did a flood of emotions and harbored thoughts flowed from him, “Today you said that I was not growing up to yours and daddy’s expectations and that made me really sad.”

“Brevitt, I so did not say that today. I said that in the past year you have been doing your best to defy the requests made to you by your parents and your teachers and that it is important for you to learn how to respect authority.”

How interesting it was that he had processed the information so negatively and differently than I had intended and I was glad that I had a chance to further expound on his need to not push his luck.

We fell asleep with my hand tickling his back and the next day as he climbed into the big, black, ominous van with eleven other boys to head off to camp I was so glad that we had connected the night before. When I climbed in to say goodbye to my tough little boy I said, “I won’t embarrass you in front of your friend and tell you that I love you.” I thought I was so funny but my sweet little boy who holds my hand in the dark did not think so and all I got was a wave and a final glimpse of Brevitt with flushed cheeks.

As I drove away I hoped that our previous conversation had some lasting impact. Children need boundaries, especially boys, the question is when to let them stretch them and when to draw the line…and not on Tucker’s face.

My homeboy at the Breckenridge Parade

I was sitting at my desk numbly staring at my computer screen trying to break my way through the hump I was in when Wade came in and dumped the mail onto my desk.

Sticking out in the middle of the mundane pile of bills and catalogs was a small blue envelope addressed to me. My heart fluttered as it always does when something special comes in the mail. With the convenience of email, letters have become passe and it is rare that somebody reaches out to me by mail. I opened it immediately.

I read the words on the card and as my eyes filled with tears of wonder at how my friend Gretchen could capture me so completely a smile spread across my face and my storm began to pass.  The card was of a girl playing on her bicycle, sending her cares to the wind and it read, “I am fairly certain that given a Cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world.”

Friends are like that, surprising you when you least expect it, quoting something you said years ago that made them laugh or delivering to you a small silver platter with a sweet little silver salt shaker, hard boiled eggs and your favorite cherry tomatoes while on a river trip, as Gretchen did to me.   “These are for you, my little Princess”, she said handing me the platter, once again filling my heart with love and kindness.

I would be nothing without my friends who keep me grounded reminding me to look for the small ingredients in life to make my life richer.

Friendship had a different meaning before I had my family. My friends were my family and my expectations and demands were higher. But the friends that I had before I got married are all still with me and the beauty lies within the relationships that have formed between our children and our husbands.

Like a marriage, as our friendships mature we learn to accept and even appreciate our idiosyncratic ways instead of allowing them to drive us insane.  When I called my friend Suzanne to tell her that I might be just a little late to pick up her son she asked, “Is this going to be standard Jillian late or later?” The phrase, “To know me is to love me” never held so true.

As we get closer to the holidays my friends have been emerging from their busy schedules to shine their little lights on me and show me their love and I am filled with appreciation. They remind me that life is filled with treasures and all one has to do is slow down a little to find and appreciate them. I also am grateful for my online friends who pack a world of insight into every comment that they make on my posts.

And so I end this little love fest by thanking you, my friends, my family and my readers, for being you and for lifting me up to greater heights as I live my life. You fill me with warmth and happiness and I love you all.

Love you, see you, mean it!

MICHELE

MELANIE

GRETCHEN

STEPH

PATTY AND JEN

PAM

SHELLY

CATHY

and Tori, Liz and Mary, Suzanne, Karen, Jody, Marilyn, Birgit and Neil, Adair, Tucker, Peter, Karl, Poopsie, Lauren, Beth, Elizabeth, Dede, Stars, Kir, Lisa, Seana, Deborah and so many more. I wish I had photos of all of you to share.

Love you all!!!

Many of us have discovered that children need time alone with their parents without their siblings vying for attention.  Call me overly sensitive or a softy but I have yet to have a day or night out with just one child, other than on Outdoor Ed trips. As soon as I mention the idea I am met with tears and accusatory words, like “abandonment”, are spewed in my direction.

After a recent unexpected day alone with Brevitt, I am convinced that children need this time with their parents, especially as they grow older. Yesterday, after dropping the younger boys off at a camp, we decided to take a mile hike up Red Hill in Carbondale. After witnessing how capable he was while backpacking in the Canyonlands I was excited to take our first summer hike in the mountains.

The first half of the hike was everything I could have hoped it would be. He was relishing his time alone with me, pointing out all the rocks and tree stumps that he would have launched off of if had he been on his mountain bike.

I kept feeling his soft, warm hand grasping mine as we hiked up the large hill. I let the heat permeate into my body knowing that I was living on borrowed time with him and that this intimacy would not last forever. Midway, his emotions took a full swing to the dark side. He was hot, tired and hungry and did not want to go up anymore. I had flashbacks from all of our tumultuous adventures back when he was a toddler.  The whining got unbearable and I finally told him to zip it.

Brevitt, with all of his abounding energy, has been known to plunge into deep despair when things don’t go the way he envisions they will. I told him that he needed to learn how to keep his negative emotions under control or he will have a tough go of it when he reaches puberty and all emotions reach greater depths. From that comment emerged an entirely different discussion.

We reached the top and he crumbled into an emotional mess telling me that he knew I thought he was a fat and lazy boy and that he was stupid and never wanted to do anything.  He was in full self-hate mode but I had heard it all before. I told him that sometimes exercising can bring forth unexpected emotions.

Brevitt has always been a mixed bag of emotions.  I have learned to filter through the drama and get to the heart of the anxiety. We sat at the top of the hike and watched the Roaring Fork and Crystal Rivers merge together at the confluence. Mount Sopris loomed magnificently in front of us with her peaks still dusted in snow. We talked and talked until Brevitt released every negative thought. He allowed my comments to sink in and after winding down he requested that we stop talking about this deep stuff and find something happy to talk about. We emerged from the hike still holding hands, his mood altered to a much happier state.

In the evening I lay down with him. The full moon has been wreaking havoc on his ability to fall asleep, and has undoubtedly been a contributor to his earlier behavior. I began a relaxing meditative dialogue for him that I had picked up from my yoga instructors, “Relax your head and let your body sink into the bed beneath you. Relax your eyes, your nose, your mouth. Relax your jaw, your teeth, your lips…etc..”. We both fell fast asleep by the time I got to his ankles.

I learned a huge lesson yesterday. Children do desperately need this time alone with their parents so that they can feel safe and unleash all of their harbored emotions and worries.  Time does not always allow for this so I am going to have to be strong and make sure that they all get equal solo time with both Wade and I.

If I ever let myself think too deeply I break out in a sweat. What a dauntingly huge responsibility it is to be a parent. The most wounded adults I know are products of bad parenting.

Children do not raise themselves and it takes a lot of work and research to ensure a secure, happy, healthy child. I am glad that Brevitt put me back on track and I naively am looking forward to another hike with him tomorrow. I can only hope that most of his baggage will remain at the top of Red Hill and will not rear its ugly head at Hanging Lake.