A Tale of Two Bits

Last week was a hectic week at work, followed by a hectic weekend. Big Bit got in Saturday from his dad's (he lived with us in Utah for 9th grade, but then (very long story) went back to Reno for 10th. He's trying to decide what to do for this next year - trying hard not to influence or stress him out on this, but still can't help anxiously awaiting his decision.

He is a straight A, straight arrow, good kid who despite the tension throughout the last 15 years of his childhood between his dad and I has turned out well. Mostly, I suspect, because we were able to avoid ranting about each other within his earshot (I would just scream in the bathroom after we got off the phone with my attorney about some atrocity) and co-parent. I have to say, that I am extremely relieved to be through most of the 18 years of putting up with the EHFH's crap. Big Bit's torn about how to make us both happy, as are the children of most divorced parents, instead of realizing by making himself happy he will (should) make us happy. As much as I tell him that's what I want for him I sense he's still looking out for me, somehow. Even if he wants to stay with his friends in Reno and that means not coming back, he's afraid he'll hurt me. And vice versa.

That feels familiar to me from my own life experience. I have a friend whose parents, like mine, divorced when we were adults and though it was the best thing for them and I intellectually get that, you still have these weird things you have to deal with. Like having THREE places to go at Christmas once you get married. Indeed, four if your spouse has divorced parents (mine does not). I hate to tell Big Bit these issues never totally pass, even if your parents get along, as mine do now.

I guess I'll let him live in his delusional state for now that when high school ends so does any of these issues. The one I thing I can sincerely assure him of is that he has no idea how bad things would be if his father and I had stayed married. I shudder to think.

I think pondering his future makes him tired. Or it might be his brother who has been on him like a terrier on a rabbit ever since he got here (Little Bit LOVES Big Bit, to distraction. Vice versa but you can't admit that when you're 16). Hard to say. But he's been pretty sleepy. At any rate, my pictures of his various napfests since arriving turned out a bit blurry, but I'll show him off anyway:




Little Bit started back to school Monday, he has the last three weeks with the perhaps world's worst 3rd grade teacher for any kid with ADHD (and this is not just my opinion, trust me). He was excited to see his friends, the Principal and the Counselor. Do you think he spends too much time in the office? Haha.

He is a smart, articulate, tempermental bundle of energy. He's very loving and loyal, and has good antannae for those who really care about him and those who are just putting in time with him. He does not suffer fools lightly, but will not hesitate to tell you he loves you and how wonderful you are if he knows the feeling goes both ways.


We've run into one of those non-fun things about living in a community that can happen when one is a minority the last few weeks. At Scouts two weeks ago, Little Bit told me he didn't want to go. I asked why - the answer "the kids call me names". Heart officially breaks. When I asked him why he just gave me The Look. As if I should know. I didn't press him.

Then last week we went on a field trip with the den. I offered to drive some of the kids, and the offer was happily accepted. We have found, that for all of the families forever stuff, The Husband and I are the only parents that consistently show up at Scouts with our child and participate with him. I have a close friend in Seattle whose son is a year behind Little Bit in Cubs and she says it's always very much 1:1 (parent to child) at their den meetings. Not so much here. Little Bit's had three different Scoutmasters in a year and it's been that way every time. This may, or may not, be just the Law of the Pack at the ward we go to for meetings.

As we got ready to leave on the field trip, ALL of the other Scouts piled into the Scoutmasters' Suburban. And there weren't enough seats for all of them. And I swear that if I hadn't kind of coughed they would have driven off that way. Upon hearing my coughing, the husband of the team urged one of the boys into our rig. It was a pretty uncomfortable trip.

At the end of the trip, another parent had shown up to participate in the activity, so it was "thank you very much but we have enough seats to get everyone home". Mr. Scoutmaster, who seems more open to us, really made an effort to be friendly (and apologetic?) - Mrs. Scoutmaster, who seems to think I have five heads most of the time, really didn't look at me much.

I try to encourage my children to embrace everyone. I have my areas of discomfort, I admit, but I'm working on them and I won't show those to my kids if I can help it.

How can you not want to sit in a car with this child? I know I'm prejudiced towards him, mind you.

This all brings back memories of being in 6th grade in a very small town in Southern Idaho (100 plus) where I was the minority for the same reason and after moving to said small town mid-year suffered through a few months so friendless I ran back to my old school for junior high, even though it meant I had to live with my maternal grandmother during the week and I really missed my parents - because there at least I wasn't a pariah. So I know I'm sensitive. But this was pretty obvious.

This goes both ways, mind you. I'm not claiming that those not of the faith whoever they may be are pure in this respect, including me and I try to work on that.

My problem is I fear it may just get worse. And those of you who have someone (a child, a spouse, whatever, but a child is the most deep feeling in my experience) get disparaged you know the "mama" or "papa bear" syndrome that kicks in when this happens.

I also know we have our neighbors who are of the faith, who invited us over at 9 pm Sunday night for brownies and brought us homemade jam (on Sunday during the day no less!) and encourage Big Bit's friendship with their daughter - could care less what religion we do or don't practice. There's also the nice lady who just moved out this way who I gave a ride to church this weekend.

Having lived here all her life, she says from her perspective things are SO much better than they used to be for us not-Mo's.

I just wonder and worry if I'm doing right by both my boys on all fronts, like anyone can live up to being the perfect parent. I guess my job is to worry, but maybe I need to not worry so much and try to ignore the ignorance, if we encounter it. Maybe by just being here in our semi-small town and being the minority we're doing some good? We know the good is here, how do we embrace it? How do we confront the bad, when touched by it?

Maybe I'm way too sensitive? Maybe the writing really is on the wall and those who would say "if you don't like it, move" are right?

I'm open for comments or criticisms. From everyone. I mean it. I think I need some perspective. From all kinds of points of view.