3 teens

My youngest boy turned 13 recently.

I now have three teen boys – 17, 16, 13.

I find myself savouring the moments that I have with the boys. They are funny and thoughtful. I don’t always agree with them, but I do respect that they have an opinion on many things. They are aware of issues affecting the world, and they care.

The eldest boy is in the final year of high school this year. He still doesn’t know where he wants to direct his efforts after he leaves school. He has always had a head for business. Always. A capitalist through and through. However, we are both aware that he would not be able to sit at a desk for any length of time. He would not be able to handle full-time study at university. He doesn’t want to do something just for the sake of doing something, it has to be meaningful to him. He will find his way.

For the moment though, he is looking forward to this year – finishing Year 12, and focusing on improving his skills as a soccer referee. Last year was his first year as a referee. It was hard work, and he loved it. He has decided that he does not want to play soccer this year. He is tired of the aggression and immaturity of his peers, it is simply not fun any more.

He is an adventurous kid, and uses public transport to get where he wants to go. He has no problem hopping on interconnecting trains and buses, and doesn’t mind how long it takes. A trip to the ocean from our place can take 2.5 hours by public transport. We haven’t started driver training yet, as he is a bit clumsy and a bit vague at times. He was getting a bit impatient to start to learn to drive, so I took him to a  quiet area one afternoon to give him a taste of driving, and he realised how tricky it can be to coordinate everything and pay attention.

Middle boy has been hosting Dungeons and Dragons afternoons at our place for well over a year now. His friends come over fortnightly on a Sunday afternoon. Their large bodies and brains occupy the small space in our family room, and they argue, joke, and playfully tease to much merriment. It’s gorgeous to see these young fellas getting so enthusiastic about a game that is paper-based and involves role play.

Middle boy is a brain on a stick. I don’t understand what he says most of the time. He is quiet, calm and considered. A fella of few words, speaking only to say something reflective. He doesn’t watch television, except for the occasional documentary on World War II or a political satire. He has recently discovered that he has an ear for music. He has picked up playing the guitar super quick, and makes up his own tunes. Now, he is tinkering with an old electric keyboard that we have, teaching himself to play chords. I have recently discovered that he is a sentimental lad. When we were tidying up my youngest son’s room, taking out old toys that he hasn’t played with in years, middle boy was hovering at the door. He said that he had to move away otherwise nothing would get moved on.

The D&D bunch introduced him to basketball, and he now plays weekly in a local competition. Last year he had a lot of time out from basketball. He had a torn calf muscle which required a lot of physiotherapy. And then, just as he was getting back into playing, he had a collapsed lung just by virtue of being tall and thin. He took this all in his stride despite the frustration of not being able to play his beloved basketball.

The youngest boy had a tricky year last year, navigating the first year of high school. He underestimated the amount of work that it involves. Writing is still a struggle. He failed English, by a lot. But he did well at maths, Italian, sewing, and cooking. At least he will be able to rustle up some clothes and tucker for himself. He had many mishaps at school. I was guaranteed of a phone call from the school office every week – he has a bellyache because he ate a chilli in cooking class, he got hit in the head by a friend who was waving his arms around vigorously, sprained ankles, he fell down some steps and hit his head, he missed the bus. On it went.

He continued pursuing his interests in drama, and also started participating in a choir. He threw himself wholeheartedly into being a member of the backstage crew for the school musical, He also started testing the limits of his freedom and was not entirely honest about where he was and what he was up to. He was pulling on the rope and we had to reel it in a bit to keep him safe. When he was little he fervently promised me that he would not turn into a teenager, and I remind him of that promise now.

He is a very loving and kind boy. He never fails to remind you that he loves you and he doesn’t care who hears it. He loves hugs and doesn’t care who is watching. He has a solid group of friends who are all quirky like him. He says “people who have problems are the best”.

The soccer season last year was terrible. He had an abusive coach, and all of the other parents enabled or dismissed the coach’s behaviour. The coach was targeting vulnerable children in the team, and we couldn’t stand by and allow it to continue. Much to our youngest son’s embarassment, we addressed the coach’s behaviour and it caused a lot of drama and fuss. There were times where the coach’s parents started physical and verbal fights with parents of the other teams and match officials. Eventually, the club put the coach in his place, but it was very stressful for us and for our boy who just wanted to play soccer. He was angry with us. We explained that it is tough to stand up and fight for justice, when no-one else can or will. He did acknowledge that it was better to play soccer when the coach is not swearing at the kids, or verbally abusing and intimidating them. Hopefully the coach learnt a lesson, but I doubt it.

The three boys for the most part get on very well together. They are all different in temperament but play Dungeons and Dragons together, talk about a computer game called Skyrim, and discuss politics, history, and social issues. They are very aware of the types of discrimination and call it when they see it. They rarely argue or conflict.

Recently I realised that we are not getting out and about as a family often enough. We used to go for bushwalks regularly, go for a drive, or go out to a restaurant for lunch. That all stopped with middle boys’ diagnosis of coeliac disease. He was so sick for over a year, and we couldn’t go anywhere. He missed 20% of school attendance the first year of high school. And then the youngest boy became gluten intolerant.

As the boys got better, and we got used to a new normal, we didn’t go back to the old traditions. We were hampered by not being able to buy food whilst out and restaurants not being coeliac friendly. We kinda got in a rut, especially as preparations for a day out all fell on me.

Then we bought the farm. Our focus was on getting the work done that was needed on the farm after years of neglect. We travelled every second weekend to the farm, a four-hour drive (one way). The boys liked many aspects of the farm but not the hard work or the travel. I also had some health problems – Ross River Virus (contracted at the farm), a head injury (also at the farm) and more recently pernicious anaemia. I took the boys out to the farm every school holidays and they were nice times of connection and cooperation. Sometimes I would take just one boy. At the farm, there is no TV, computer, internet, or mobile reception. We spend time together in a cottage that is 10 square metres and we read, do crossword puzzles together, chat, and play board games. We have had the benefit of having some very good neighbours out at the farm, who drop in to say g’day when we are there, and offer their help when they can.

We also started keeping bees, and rapidly went from two hives to four hives because our original two hives swarmed. Bees are hard work. Tending to them, and processing the honey and wax can take up many hours of the weekend. Just as I was able to give away toys and paraphernalia that the boys had accumulated and no longer needed, we got bees. Such tiny little critters come with a lot of stuff !

This school holidays I have been getting the boys out and about. This past week we have been to the Norman Lindsay gallery, the Australian Museum, and an Aboriginal cultural event at Blackheath. The boys told me that they wanted to get back into bushwalking and some of the other family traditions we used to have, like Sunday Snacks. I’d forgotten about Sunday Snacks. Frequently on a Sunday, we would have cheese and crackers and dips. Sometimes my husband would cook something special, like scones. He struggled with the conversion to gluten free products.

So, even though the boys are getting older, they want to stay close to family. They do go out with friends, but they choose their friends and activities wisely. My eldest boy went to a party recently where there was alcohol, and he said that it was boring because everyone was getting drunk.

They are still physically affectionate with us, even in front of their friends, and in this I am so proud of my husband who still hugs and kisses his boys. I have noticed that most of the young people my boys hang out with, aren’t in a rush to form romantic attachments. Very few have a girlfriend or boyfriend. They just enjoy each others’ company, and go out together as friends.

They are growing so fast physically that it is difficult to keep clothes and shoes up to them. As the middle boy is so skinny, he gets the hand-me-downs from the eldest boy, and the hand-me-ups from the youngest boy.

As for the two other members of the family – the beagle-cross and the pug, well they are still bonkers and a great source of amusement. The beagle-cross mourned the loss of our old foxie at Christmas 2017 for six months. She moped and had no energy. The pug didn’t even notice that the old boy was gone. Those children’s books about Pig the Pug capture the personality of a pug perfectly. These two girls have very little time for each other, but have grown to tolerate each other. The pug is very playful and sometimes annoys the beagle enough to get her to react. When the beagle has had enough, she puts her paw on the pugs head to stop her. They both love the farm, and it is almost cruel to bring them back to the suburbs, seeing how free and happy they are in the bush. The beagle brings kangaroo carcasses back to the cottage to share with the family (she doesn’t kill them, we have a problem with spotlighters). The pug follows me around all day out in the paddocks, and the locals laugh at our ‘farm pug’.

So, here we are – 2019. There will be a few challenges ahead.

My husband’s parents are getting older. They have enjoyed good health until recently. But now, they require in-home support. Although we aren’t close, this is the only extended family that the boys know. My in-laws have kept us at a distance because they don’t like boys, and they don’t like me (working class, Aboriginal and convict heritage, critical of my ‘unconventional’ parenting style which is just positive parenting). It’s a shame that my kids have not grown up with grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins, especially as their grandparents are just a 20 minute drive away. It has always just been ‘us’.

This year. I will be spending time away from my family as I embark on a graduate certificate in Aboriginal language, culture, and heritage. There will be four residential schools this year. I will be away for 10 days for the first residential school in the far south-west of the state (a 7 hour drive). This will be a test for all of us, but I’m hoping that it will build character. all ’round

We are planning to not go to the farm as often this year, to make some time for adventures in the Blue Mountains. Looking forward to it.