"....Since I was Homeschooled" Cop-Out

Ever have one of those major blowouts with your significant other on parenting that throws you for a major loop? Yesterday was one such blowout for me; or actually , another one in a long chain over since last weekend. Each day, the argument that never settled had been building to a point where I realize that DH and I are not only not on the same page, but we are not even reading from the same book!

So for those of you who seem to think that QueenBee has a perfectly smooth hive dripping with honey and goodness, read on. Unfortunately, there are a lot of stingers in my hive as well....

You see, as wise a young soul as HoneyGirl is and as smooth as our relationship flows, I have the opposite dynamic with BuzzBoy. Buzz came into my life at 2 years old, and has a dear and tortured heart through his parent's divorce. I've been able to be the mother to him that his own was unwilling or incapable of being, and I tried my best to step in all around.

Some kids, though, have difficulties with the normal shaping processes of growth. Buzz has always had problems owning his mistakes without blaming others. This is a challenge for most parents, as the child truly fights growth against all logic. Unfortunately, being a step-parent has made it doubly difficult, because even the simplest of issues is mentally transformed into a big drama by pulling the "child of divorce" card. Surely, there are valid and residual emotional issues that stem from divorce, but in my experience, none of them is the direct cause of leaving plates in your room!

So, it is safe to say that he and I have always struggled with an antagonistic relationship whenever a disagreement arose. But, despite all the arguments, there was this darling big-hearted boy. That boy, when free of the bravado and challenge, was worth every single fight. Over the years, we began to see more and more of him, and the arguments lessened. I accepted the fact that Buzz would probably have issues of inadequacy for years that he needed to focus on me, until he was strong enough to deal directly with his issues of his birth mother's actions. I can deal with that.
I hold out hope that when he has passes through that, he and I will reach a new level of understanding and peace between us.

But in the last few months, a new dynamic has readed its' ugly head in the home. While it is normal for any teen drawing near to college to become anxious and full of questions over their future, a new mantra has arisen in our home. Let's call it the "....since I was homeschooled" excuse.

Here's an example of the myriad of ways this excuse can be used. Last week, KingBee, Buzz and I went to an open house for the science department of a local college. It was a very impressive program, as state schools go, with lots of opportunity for personalized discussions with professors, staff, and students.

After realizing how challenging the requirments for pre-engineering and/or physics were, Buzz said "That's going to be really challenging since I was homeschooled." I corrected that physics is a challenging major for any student, because of the subject matter, but that he could do it. I encouraged him to believe in himself, and remember that he will have a leg up on most other students as he will be taking a few college level classes next year.

KingBee contradicts, telling me that it will indeed be harder for him since he was homeschooled and hasn't had a much experience in a classroom. I explain that college is where independent learners have an edge over kids who are just rote learners, and Buzz will do fine. They both disagree, so I suggest that it isn't beneficial starting out giving excuses before even trying.

To quell their growing apprehension, we all go over to a few of the students and discuss the rigors of hte program. They alleviate a lot of fears, explaining the peer study groups with assigned tutors, a 9:1 student ratio, and professors who really strive for the kids to succeed. With everyone feeling a bit better, we move on.

Further walking on the campus tour brings us to the student activity board. Buzz begins getting excited, seeing all the different opportunities. I share my own college experience, that if you look at college as your day job Monday-Thurs, studying between classes and then for two hours after dinner, you can have the weekends free for fun. "That's great, because I haven't been able to have a social life and have a lot of catching up to do since I was homeschooled."

We round the bend, and realized that it is Homecoming Weekend. Buzz's eyes light up. He tells KingBee that he thinks it would be the coolest thing in the world to be on the football team. KingBee tells him "You should try out, because you haven't had any sports opportunities to since you were homeschooled."

I interject, with trepidation, as I know I am watching a testosterone-induced male bonding vision. KingBee had been a semi-pro player, and if he had been given the opportunity for college, would have been full scholarship despite not playing his last two years of when he was sent to a private Christian school. Buzz, however, has not played organized football since he was ten, because he didn't like getting hurt. Still, I know the male egos of a somewhat geeky kid who dreams of being the jock, and a father wishing to live vicariously through his son.

With my best effort at diplomacy, I suggest "as a former collegiate athlete, I really don't know if that is such a good idea. Playing a sport at this level requires a huge time commitment. You had both expressed concerns over the academic demands an hour ago, and this would seriously cut into his time with little reward."

I was promptly told that being known as a member of the football team would be the reward, and that I couldnt understand all he has "missed out on since he was homeschooled. " When I pointed out that he had the opportunity to play football for any number of local park teams, as well as for the high school for the last six years, I was told that it wasn't the same.

My logical mind is flipping out here...wondering what my husband is thinking. I mean, this school recruits heavily from a pool of kids who have been playing tackle football for seven to ten years, and have developed both a toughness and stamina. Having a winning season on Madden for Playstation does not equate an adequate knowledge of defensive and offensive schemes. I love Buzz, but I am also objective enough to know that he is not exactly football material.

I try a different approach, reminding them both of the wonderful opportunities through the intermural programs that would give him the camraderie of a team without taking so much time away from academics.
Both look at me like I'm an idiot, because that is not the same thing. Scout informs me that there is no homecoming or cheerleaders for intermurals, and he has missed out of breaking through a banner "since he was homeschooled."

At this point, I have lost some of my tact. I remind both of them that it is generally the starters that break through the banner, though I was able to stop myself before saying "not the walk-on third stringers." I realize that this is stemming from both of their "little brains" ; filled with visions of hot co-eds with pom-poms.

I elect to drop the subject, realizing that there is no reasoning when the bloodflow to the large brain is so impeded. Besides, we are a senior year of community college classes away from the reality of walk-on college football.

Still, I realize with grave concern that there was a whole lot of homeschool blame throughout the day. This is worrisome on many levels, but most of all because each and every year we decided as a family to continue homeschooling, and there had always been the option for him to return to a traditional setting. This far down the road, it seems as if both have conveniently decided that I alone made these decisions, and a lot of pro-active blame is being thrown around.

This weekend, unfortunately, another similar issue reared its' ugly head again. About a month ago we went to a homeschool bowling with a new group. Honey had met a few of the high school kids over the summer and become friends, but this was Buzz's first time (he had been working).

I could tell he was feeling a little awkward about knowing no one, and encouraged him to just be himself as they were nice kids. Unfortunately, he chose to don the "I'm so cool" bravado. Nothing I have said can convince him that his defense mechanism chases more folks away than encourages them to get to know him, and unfortunately, he effectively chases the majority of the nicer kids away. I did notice that at the end, there was only one young girl left listening to his stories.

A few weeks after bowling, one of the parents of this new group contacted me with a concerned message from her daughters. Apparently Buzz had begun talking regularly with this young girl on Facebook, and she had been lying to him about her age. They didn't want to pry, but thought he would want to know that said girl was 13, not the 15 she claimed. I confirmed the age with the parent, who has registration forms on all members of the group.

When I told Buzz, he said he was only being polite and was not interested in said girl at all. Unfortunately, I find out from KingBee this weekend that Buzz lied. He had asked the girl her age after speaking with me , and since she swore she wasn't lying, he decided the other girls and I were just trying to make trouble for him. They had begun making plans for when he was driving. When I explained the situation to KingBee, he said he would talk to him about the girl, as she is indeed too young.

I felt the bigger concern was his lack of respect and trust in me, as a parent. KingBee , however, felt that because I have been so negative about Buzz lately (football issue) it was perfectly understandable that he would doubt me. Stunned, I asked how the two issues could even be connected in either of their minds. The unfortunate reply was that " You don't realize how you have hindered his social life since he was homeschooled."

No need for a play by play, but suffice it to say that I lost it. Obviously, all the running around to social activities, clubs, practices, and get-togethers doesn't count. The open house policy I have always had with both kids friends doesn't seem to matter, nor the fact that their friends all seem to feel that we are two of the coolest parents around. KingBee feels that Buzz's difficulties making and keeping friends, both male and female, is my fault "since he was homeschooled."

HoneyGirl bravely steps into the room and asks if she can make a comment. She points out to KingBee that she has lots of friends, and she was homeschooled longer than Buzz and has a lot less activities. KingBee listens, but stands firm. She offers that Buzz tends to be kind of arrogant around other people, and while KingBee weighs this, he claims that if he had gone to school he would be different. Honey adds, "Maybe yes, or maybe he would be a bigger jerk," before leaving defeated. Sigh.

So., it seems that I have been officially scapegoated for all of Buzz real or anticipated academic and social inadequacies in both KingBee and Buzz's eyes. While convenient for both of them, I am completely unwilling to bear that burden. A long and most unpleasant argument ensued, which has left me emotionally exhausted and disillusioned. I am too blindsided by this to just continue on without some sort of changes , if for nothing more than self-preservation.

After a day alone of mixed pondering, prayer, and lots of tears, I've told KingBee that the relationship between Buzz and I has deteriorated to such a degree that it isn't benefical for either of us if I stay the primary person involved in his academic and social life. I can't be blamed for being negative for every correction made as a teacher yet held responsible for preparing him for higher academics. Even a friendly reminder of a test the next day is portrayed as negative picking.

I'm stepping back, forcing KingBee to step up and take the handle on this. Maybe they need a bit of time together to work through this, man style. I'm too exhausted to even want to go there anymore. Instead,
I will do the only positive thing I can do, and enjoy the extra time with HoneyGirl. And spend some time pulling the stingers out...cause they sure hurt.