18 is fun. Biology is telling you that you’ve got the world on lock down. The world says back “Not so much.” There’s an expectation that a magical moment occurs and suddenly you’ve figured out the things. Once you’ve lived for exactly 6,570 days, you’re able to enter into legally binding contracts, register to vote, serve on jury of your peers, and other grown up things.
Thankfully 18 doesn’t have to mean the end of figuring things out. Coincidentally, neither does 48.
When it was time for young Dirty to go back to school following the holidays, he got the opportunity to flex his adulthood muscle. It was just a few days before he was due to go back. He wanted to go to lunch. My spidey senses should’ve tingled.
As we sat down to our street tacos, “Crystal, I wanted to have a talk with you in a public place. I’m not going back to school. I’m joining the Army.”
I held my carne asada and narrowed my eyes, “You grossly underestimate my willingness to cause a scene. It’s a Sunday in Los Gordos. That won’t stop my words.” (maybe not the best way to start, but like said…it’s still okay to learn at my age too.)
I was pleased that he was able to have a difficult conversation. He clearly articulated his position. He’s forever wanted to join. I will be incredibly proud of him at such time that he does join, so any uncertainly on my part has nothing to do with army. It had everything to do with my worry that he was going to make a decision based on a short term need that would have long term results.
What followed was exhausting agony. Just like when debated which school to enroll in. He thinks hard about things before doing them, and puts a lot of pressure on himself. He was advised that he would go back to Cal Poly because the plane ticket was already paid for and his shit is there. But zero pressure about what he should do after that.
He said a lot of things about what he intended to do with his new plan. I’m not sure if he was trying to convince me or to convince himself. I apologized to him and said that part of his struggle was my fault. In my efforts to make him confident, I overshot and gave burdened him with an over inflated sense of self importance. None of us are that important. But most of my words were for my benefit only. The only ones I said that were seriously considered were “You’ll never be able to afford a Denali.” That. All my social worker mumbo jumbo fell out the ears, but conceptualizing earnings potential comparisons by talking about a pickup? That caught his attention.
Tuition was due a few days after he got back. He was saying that he didn’t want it paid if he wasn’t going to stay. This was kind to my wallet, but also possibly a tactic to put the decision off of him. That was not what was going to happen. He’s put in more than 6,570 days. They’re his decisions to live with. It literally came down to 28 minutes left to pay before he decided. Me and siri got some important shit done as I drove home from Chico. I didn’t know how it would turn out (and still don’t) but it was worth every penny to the decision to stay in school be HIS decision.
Needless to say, when you put your mom in what feels like a hostage ransom situation, there will be feelings. I was very disappointed in my phone’s inability to capture the seething tone with which I’d dictated my texts. Despite there not being a “you are on such thin ice” font in which to send texts, I think he knew my position. There were several days of radio silence.
Then a text, “Crystal.” “Yea?” “How much water do you put in the instant pot when you’re making rice?” His existential crisis had been replaced with problem solving how to meal prep in his dorm room. Wha?
This week he talked about his housing plans for next year. He starts a job on campus Monday. It’s like the army blip never happened. If adulting is still as I know it to be, that doesn’t mean all our “crises” are over, but I feel happy for him that he was able to get through this one. He practiced seeking help, decision making, and living with the result.
Just because we’re adults doesn’t mean we never need help. Thank you for all the people who helped him problem solve. And thank you to those who helped me and listened to me bitch about it. (I really have no idea where he comes by the emotional roller coaster tendencies he may have. No idea! Oh my GOSH! NONE AT ALL!)
Bifocals and Barbells 