Our Son is a Cadet

Wow, it's been almost four years since my last blog post. There are times that I believe I have "blog worthy" ideas as I'm driving around or as I encounter a situation in life and well...if it wasn't for that job, husband, and three kids; I might be able to sit at my keyboard and bang out all those ideas. But generally, they remain in my head for a short period and then disappear.

Very recently, however, I've been compelled to write. You see, our family has been going through something that I feel is blog worthy. I decided early on to write about this because as I was researching information to help us with our recent decision, it was fairly hard to come by. I was surprised because information is always plentiful on Google, right? I did get a lot of great information directly from other people in our situation, but there isn't a lot written publicly so I wanted to write this as much for my own benefit, as for others. This is for anyone, anywhere, that is going through something like this. It may not be the same exact situation but it may similar. Maybe somewhere, someone is making an extremely hard parenting decision and seeking strength anywhere they can find it, like I am currently. This is for those people. It's even more for the people that are considering sending their child to boarding school, maybe even a military boarding school, and are struggling with the idea.

We did it. We have been preparing for this for several weeks. Yesterday, on Monday October 7th, we took our son to a military boarding school approximately two hours from our home, got him "bunked in" as they say; and we drove away. We drove away; without our son.

To say that this is the absolute hardest decision we have made in our thirteen years as parents, is the understatement of our lives. As a Mother, I have never experienced anything as gut wrenching as what we are going through; right now.

Tonight is night number two without our son sleeping in our home. I was too sad to do anything at all on the first night. Several weeks ago, once we made our decision and began to go through the process, I began to cry. I missed him already. I became sad, even when he was still at home, thinking about the first family dinner without him, the first visit to a friends house without him, the first time I would drop Olivia (our middle daughter) off at the middle school; without him. I would cry when I went to kiss him good-night, thinking about the first night I wouldn't be able to do that. I have this thing I do in the mornings where I get all of my kids out of the bed; stand them up, and give them a "morning hug". But it’s more of me holding them, rubbing their back, and telling them I love them. I started this several years ago because with a family of five with two working parents, life gets stressful. Sometimes your day doesn't go as you would have hoped and you end up fussing with each other or fussing at a child. I felt like in all my efforts to "mother" them, I was mostly holding them accountable for something and not simply "loving" them enough. I decided then that I was going to show them love and affection every single day, at the very beginning, so that even if the day went awry; it at least started with their Mom making sure they knew they were loved. As big as Colin is, he still gets up and comes to me every morning with his arms out for his hug. It doesn’t matter if we went to bed mad or upset. You better believe I nearly cried every morning giving him that hug, thinking about the first morning I couldn't. The tears came when I picked up a dirty sock, thinking about when that sock wouldn't be there. In every normal, average, moment; tears came - even before he was gone.

Yesterday, the day we bunked him in at school, was the hardest day I have lived as a Mother; period. After leaving him, I of course, cried. When we got home to pull into the driveway, it literally felt like someone kicked me in my stomach. as we were driving up to the house. I felt nauseous. When I walked in the house, I walked toward my bedroom. His bedroom door is right next to ours; I couldn't bear to open it. Sadness engulfed me. I kept moving; feeling like I was moving through mud. Later in the evening as Jason and I were lounging on the couch, after a normal amount of time had passed, where he would have typically come out of his room to ask his Dad, "Hey Dad, did you see that score?" on some game or another or even just to say, "Hey Mom, guess what?" and tell me whatever was on his mind. Or sometimes he would just come out to do something goofy, just because he needed attention from his parents. He didn't come out of his room last night. That was amazingly hard.

I'm trying to be strong. I have two daughters, a husband, and a team at work that need me to get back to myself; or as close as I can get. They are also dealing with this in their own ways and need me to support them. I can rationalize with myself and tell myself that he's safe, that this is going to make us all better, and I know all that to be true. It does help to know he's safe and cared for but when a Mother misses her child; no amount of rationalization can make the pain go away.

Sometimes I think to myself that we have gone crazy and ask myself how on earth we got to this place. One thing parenting has taught me is to never, ever, say "never". This wasn't in our parenting plans. Not ever. So...how did we get here?

Our only son and our first born, Colin Davis Brown, made us parents on July 1, 2006. He was a beautiful, dark haired, dark skinned, baby boy. I couldn't believe how beautiful he was. Some babies are ugly when they're born, right? Come on, you know it's true. I had three and not all three of mine came out pretty! But he was; he was beautiful. Besides the fact that we struggled with nursing as I couldn't seem to feed him enough; we really had it pretty easy with him a baby. He was calm and peaceful. We could take him anywhere and he was content. He did great riding in a car and still does, today. He can ride for hours and hours. He grew into a beautiful toddler boy with the most precious curls at the nape of his neck. I always joke with him and tell him that he was the most well behaved little boy until his third birthday. I tell him it was then, that he went crazy!

It's not true, he didn't really go crazy. But he became very active. It seemed normal. I grew up with two sisters but I knew boys were generally more active than girls. I really enjoyed all the little boy things! Trucks and cars and dirt, oh my! He was all boy in every way. He went through so many phases and they were all so much fun. He went through a dump truck phase, a Batman phase, a garbage truck phase, a Lego phase, etc. The Lego phase stuck around for many years and was one of the few activities he could sit down and do and focus on for long periods.

In pre-school, Colin's behavior didn't seem out of the ordinary. He didn't get in trouble any more than the other little boys from what we could tell. He seemed like an easy going child, outside the normal "boys need to move" sort of activity.  I started noticing something was a little "off" when he was around four years old. I began to sense some anxiety.  He started to express nervousness at times that I didn't expect him to. One day we pulled up to a friends house for a birthday party and Colin immediately began to ask questions about where we were, why we there, who was going to be there. He was probably four and a half. He refused to get out of the car and began to have a melt down. This was the first time something like this happened and I was really, very confused. These were friends that he knew. What I didn't realize at the time was that this was a new house for that set of friends and that he had never been there before.  When we pulled up and he saw that house, and saw a big group of people in the back yard and couldn't tell who they were; it created anxiety. Once I explained to him who was there and got him out of the car and to the backyard, he clung to me but warmed up quickly and was then completely fine. We had a more situations like this as time went on during which we attempted to introduce Colin to new social situations. Once; we attempted to integrate Colin into an Awana program at local church where we had many friends. We tried week after week and there was nothing but tears and anxiety. I tried to stay with him during the program. One evening he was sitting beside me on the bleachers and just wringing his hands. He wanted to get out on the church gym floor with others and he wanted to participate. He tried. He got out there as they were playing a game. He stayed for about five minutes and then came back over to me crying. I didn't make him go back after that. I realized that he was so uncomfortable and it wasn't worth forcing him to go. I recognized that Colin had social anxiety but he was so comfortable in his "known environments" that it wasn't an every day issue that we had to deal with. We could deal with the issues when they came up. However, when it came time for him to leave his preschool, where he had been since he was an infant, to go to "big school", the shit hit the absolute fan.

It was August, 2011. Colin was so bright as a toddler that it really hadn't occurred to me to that he may have trouble in school. He was so smart. He was reading many sight words already and had an amazing vocabulary. I knew he was a very active boy and thought that we may have an issue occasionally with behavior but I was not prepared for what the first three weeks of his K5 year were like. On the first day of school, you expect some tears, from Mom and the kindergartner, right? What I didn't expect was the fear. Colin was absolutely scared to death. He cried as if he was afraid for his life. It tore my absolute heart out. For the next week I walked him into school every day well beyond the time frame that the school allowed for that. He was crying and I was crying; every single day. Near the end of week two I was trying to encourage him to get out of the car by himself. We went for a few days like that and he refused to do it. I had to pull out of the car line each day and continue to walk him in. One day, I finally became frustrated with him because I had a meeting at work that I needed to get to and was short on time. He refused to get out so I pulled out of the car line like I had been doing. As I was walking him toward the school door, the principal was there in the doorway. The late bell was ringing and I asked her to help me while quickly explaining to her that he was struggling with the transition to kindergarten. I will never forget that scene. She took him and was very caring with him but he went with her kicking and screaming. He was so upset that his books flew out of his bag. At that age, the kids were required to carry a little tote bag that was open at the top, making it easy for the books and folders to come out. I decided that I had to walk away. I got in my car and as I was driving away, I could see them still there in the door way. He was literally hanging on to the door frame and his bag, his books, and his lunchbox were scattered everywhere. I cried all the way to work.

Little did I know; this was the start of a very long road for us in parenting Colin. Eventually he was diagnosed with ADHD and General Anxiety. I believe that where we are today, is a result of both of these conditions combined. And some of it is probably just Colin's personality. Colin doesn't learn things because someone teaches it to him. Colin ONLY learns things the hard way. He has a stubbornness that runs deep; and I do believe it's hereditary and likely from the Enloe side of my family. Enloe's are known to be extraordinarily stubborn. Colin is highly intelligent and can grasp very complex concepts. He is able to take lessons away from movies or TV, or even from situations that he sees others go through. He can clearly talk to us about the lessons he learns. What he has never been able to do, is apply those lessons to his own life. He seems to believe he's "untouchable". That he's "different", somehow, than the character in the movie or TV show or that he's "different" than that kid at school that made that bad decision.

I could literally write a novel about the behavioral issues we have had throughout Colin's school career thus far. We've had behavioral issues outside of school as well. As part of that novel, I could explain the various therapists he has seen, the various types of medications he's been on, and all of the countless ways we have tried to support him and hold him accountable for doing the right thing. We've tried charts and apps and calendars. We've tried to-do lists and point systems and monetary rewards. We've tried positive reinforcement versus negative consequences. We have tried it all. And I mean...WE.HAVE.TRIED.IT.ALL. One thing that has remained consistent, is that Colin is not motivated to be better. He's not motivated by anything; ever. Colin doesn't seem to care that the things he says and does are disruptive, disrespectful, or even just plain wrong sometimes. Colin doesn't care about his grades. Colin doesn't care about rules and believes they don't apply to him. Colin doesn't seem to care if he says something that hurts someones feelings. He does quickly apologize but it never seems heartfelt to anyone around him. Colin rarely says, "thank you" for anything we buy him. Instead; even after spending nearly a grand on school clothes and shoes for JUST him as he is in men's sizes now; he complains constantly about not having enough clothes. Colin doesn't appreciate or seem to care that his parents show up to EVERY game he plays in. Speaking of sports; Colin displays poor sportsmanship on a regular basis. And Colin blames. Oh my, does he blame everybody around him for everything that is wrong with his life. He doesn't take responsibility for anything; ever. At a young age, you could explain some of his behavior on the impulsivity and immaturity that comes along with ADHD.  You might could say that some of it was self-preservation and potentially related to his anxiety. And likely, his behavior and decisions today can be attributed to it as well. But when does it end? Maybe he does care, and maybe he does want to be more responsible and just can't figure out how, even as we've tried to help him understand. Maybe all the support we've given him just feels like nagging or pressure and he doesn't accept or recognize it as "help". Maybe it's just too overwhelming for him to try and put all the pieces together and to just do the right thing. I don't know why we are here. I could drive myself crazy trying to figure out why. I could blame myself, or both of us as parents, for not being able to get him to a better place by this age. But that doesn't change the fact that Colin is not progressing into the responsible, mature, young man that we expect him to be; no matter the reason. We firmly believe that it is ok to have those expectations of our son. We have those expectations; because we know he has it in him. There isn't just one thing, or a few things, that Colin has done that led us to this decision. Although he did make a string of very bad decisions within a short time frame, just a few weeks into the school year; it wasn't even those specific actions that led to this decision. It's Colin's pattern of behavior over his lifetime thus far. It's the disappointment that we feel on a consistent basis when it comes to our son. It's the way he doesn't learn from mistakes; over and over and over. It's the general nonchalance with which he approaches his life. Consequences mean absolutely nothing to Colin. In summary, it's his character.

Jason and I made this decision because we are determined to set out into the world, a good young man. We want Colin to contribute to society in some way. We don't care what profession he chooses or what kind of salary he makes at that profession. We want him to be a good son, a good brother and eventually; a good husband and father. We chose a school that has a rich history and an amazing success rate for pointing young men who aren't necessarily heading down the best path, in the right direction. This school builds character and leadership skills. Today, Colin is a follower.

Not our son; not on our watch.

I spent hours and hours researching the school; speaking to parents, speaking to current cadets, and seeking references from anywhere I could get them. I was reassured time and time again, that this was a good place for our son. The more I learned, the more I felt in my heart that this was not just a good place for our son; but it's the best place for him right now during this highly influential stage in his life. What this school is NOT is; a boot camp, a prison-like environment, or a miserable place where he isn't able to be a normal teenage boy. This school offers Colin the opportunity to be immersed in structure and discipline. It offers him a high quality education in a smaller classroom environment with more one on one attention from his teachers. It offers him mandatory study hall time with no distractions, as all students study at the same time. During this time he can get assistance on school work as needed. It offers accountability if he isn't getting his work done. The teachers and the TAC officers stay in contact about what each student needs to work on, outside of class, and they ensure it gets done. It offers him the opportunity to play one of thirteen sports, including his favorite sport; Lacrosse. If his school work is caught up, he has several hours of free time each day where he can hang out with his friends and play basketball, throw a football, play video games, or whatever normal teenage boys do. They offer amazing trips that can be earned, such as ski trips or day trips to amusement parks. But most importantly, it will instill in him the independence, self-confidence, self-reliability, self-respect, that he needs to be the very best Colin.