Thursday, September 13, 2007

Where Are You?

My son has been gone all day. In Newton, we have Rosh Hashanah off. My kids spent half of their life thinking they were Jewish, the other half loving the fact that they get a day off in September because they live in a predominately Jewish town.

The let down came when I said, no, you are not getting Hanukah gifts AND Christmas gifts.

But we’re Jewish, Ben wailed. He was about six at the time.

No, honey. Just a lot of Jewish friends who invite us to different celebrations.

The same boy I could not get to call a single friend all summer left the house at 10am today and I have not seen him since.

He went to a friend’s house, who he met up with while walking our dog. He then went with a bunch of kids to Knotty Pine restaurant for lunch. I called him.

Where are you?

Waiting for (a bunch of kids) to meet us.

Are you causing trouble in the restaurant?

NO, Mom.

Where are you going to go?

All was explained and I left him alone. For an hour. Then I called again.

Where are you?

(Girl’s) house.

Is her mother home?

Yes.

Let me talk to her.

I talked to the mother. She’s a pro, already having an older son, her youngest just entered middle school.

Don’t worry, Sara. No booze, no drugs, no smoking.

No sex? I asked.

She laughed. No. Promise. I’ll call you when they leave.

She did and they were off to another friend’s house.

Meanwhile, I have Jake, a friend of his, and Zachary running around the house. Jeanine at work, Walter having stopped by to create an amazing floral display, I still am worried about where Ben is.

I call again.

Where are you?

(Boy’s) house. His mom ordered Pizza. I’ll be home in an hour or so. Okay?

I can hear in his voice, he’s lost his patience with my calling.

Uh… okay. Get some toilet paper on the way home at the store.

Hey, I might as well make it work for me.

Are you serious? He asked.

Yes. I am.

It’s after four now. Still no Ben. No toilet paper.

I’m not ready for this middle school hanging out thing. I’m afraid I’m being too lax. Too worried. Too nice. Too mean. I don’t know. I have new boundaries to figure out. My son is hanging out.

I’m so happy he has a peer group to be with.

I’m worried what he’ll do to fit in.

I’m working on the drug, cigarette conversation.

And I’m about to call him again…

Where are you?

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