SLICE #8

I'm participating in the Slice of Life at Two Writing Teachers this month. 

Every day, for the month of March, 

I will be capturing a slice of my life.

I'm on a borrowed PC computer while my Apple is in the shop. 

I can't figure out how to download the SLICE graphic on this computer.

Not sure why, but I thought parenting 

would get easier

as the boys got older.

That hasn't been the case.

At all.

Both boys are incredibly gifted athletes.

Went to college for a while. 

But they are both home now. 

Supposedly looking for jobs.

But mostly, as far as I can tell,

sitting around doing nothing

except hanging out on the internet

taking advantage of Colorado's legal substance rules

and eating me out of house and home. 

They need to do something. 

Son #2 tells me he wants to join the Air Force. 

My heart leaps into my throat.

I am not excited about my boys joining the military.

The world is an unstable place right now.

I think about all the stories I have read. 

I worry about them being killed.

Or coming back with limbs missing.

Most of all, I worry about PTSD.

My boys already have some pretty serious scars

from being abandoned by their biological mom

and living for years in an abusive foster care situation.

I can't imagine them any more damaged

or less functional.

But they need to do something.

I ask why the Air Force.

K tells me it would be a career.

His basketball coach,

 probably the most significant male in his life,

is the son of a 26-year veteran.

It was a good career for him,

K tells me.

He has clearly done some investigating.

Talked to a recruiter.

He would go to Lackland for eight weeks.

Come back here for a short break.

Then go to technical school.

The Air Force would pay for college.

And his goal, eventually,

is to join the special forces.

I try to remain calm.

Do you understand 

that this is a commitment?

Once you join,

 they don't let you quit.

How long would you have to stay in?

I try to breathe.

To be the mom he needs. 

He doesn't know.

But tells me 

he thinks it would teach him 

to persevere.

That's definitely something 

I have not been able to teach him. 

The problem is, he continues

that he has an outstanding traffic ticket.

He can't enlist until he comes up with the money to pay it.

I had previously told him

That I wasn't going to pay the ticket.

 I was done paying for stupid mistakes.

He has actually secured a job

working security at concert and sports venues

and can start as soon

as I loan him

three hundred dollars

for uniform clothes and shoes.

If I would pay the $179 ticket

he could go.

A lot of scenarios dance through my head.

I could loan him 

the money for the clothes

chances are slim to none I would

ever see that money again

so he could work

and pay off the ticket.

That's what I said I was going to do. 

If I paid it, he could move forward 

with the Air Force thing.

I try again to breathe. 

If he doesn't like the Air Force

I know he will say

it's my fault

that I forced him into something

he didn't want to do.

If I tell him he shouldn't do it

He will sit at my kitchen table 

horsing around on the internet

and smoking and chewing tobacco

for the next _____ years,

telling me that I kept him 

from doing what he wanted to do. 

Parenting is the hardest job I have ever done. 

And it doesn't get any easier. 

In fact, I think it gets harder

Every. Single.  Year.