Father's Day Afternoon

B went to church with us. He said he was doing it "for me". I responded by saying, he should do it for himself.

It was a great message, spoken by the youth pastor from our church. He's the same pastor I spend most Sundays as a volunteer, working with high school kids.

Afterwards, B and I ride to the market where he works. I treated ourselves to some beautiful rib eye steaks to make a special dinner I watched on Food Network. Cooking & baking is my hobby and therapy. It looks like a manly dinner. Funny, my husband is not my son's father. Somehow, I want to make a Father's Day dinner for this man, who has been so helpful and patient with his stepson. Does my son see this?

He's the man who married me, three years ago. He did not help raise my son. One month after our wedding, we found out my son was addicted to oxy-contin. We had no idea what that really meant...not a clue. We thought our son could just stop.

But, I digress...

My son asked me if he could earn some money, by doing chores.

My brain automatically kicked in to gear-- I reminded my son that I loaned him money to consolidate his debts. He is faithfully making payments to me, as agreed, from his weekly paychecks. Hence, he only has about $20.00 a week in pocket money as opposed to $100.00 a week.

So, I tell him that the answer is "no".

"Fine, I'll sell my watch".

Now this is where I feel I'm under spiritual attack. My first instinct is to tell him not to sell the watch... my tongue is aching to preach about financial responsibility. I resist.

Then, it happens. I can't stand it. I have to say something--

So, I say to him "This is how an addict think, B". You want something now (he wanted to hit golf balls, but his golf clubs are collateral for me and hidden away). I tell him that it isn't right to owe someone money, go out and sell something and spend that on pleasure when it could pay off the loan.

Now, you responsible adults... do you disagree with that?

I said the wrong thing. He got mad. I knew it, immediately, and I wish I had said nothing. My son felt backed into a corner...I had talked down to him.

I shut up, came home and got busy with my kitchen projects. I'm making jam and baking, as my therapy. Believe it or not, I don't eat most of it. I give it away. Somehow, photographing and blogging my recipes is relaxing and therapeutic for me.

B came out of his room, huffing and puffing. He started pacing. Now, you'd think he wants to use. That's not it. He wants mom to feel sorry for him, and offer to buy him a bucket of golf balls.

I focused on God. The devil is goading me into anger. I just know it. This is how he works. I am supposed to blow up at my son, and get angry. Instead, I focus on reading the instructions on how to make jam (I have no idea how, but today I'm going to learn how). He sits and scrolls through my laptop... looking bored and frustrated.

I ignore it. I just go about my business. (My husband left to run errands.)

B finally jumps up and stomps out of the house. I have no idea where he's going.

Is he going to use? I doubt it. He's bored, he's frustrated that he's broke and he blames me for it.

This is denial.

I have made a conscious effort to not let this rob me of my own joy. I have a day off work. I have a beautiful dinner planned for tonight. The sun finally came out. I'm going to move forward with my plans to work on my hobby. Hobbies are good. I might go for a swim, afterwards to exercise and clear my head.

My son will return. Hopefully, he'll find his friend M is home, and they can play video games. Maybe God will speak to his heart and my son will see that his behavior is lacking appreciation for all that I do for him-- because I love him.

My son is a very selfish person. So was I, at one time. Oh, those tendencies come up within me now and then...but being a mother usually teaches us to be selfless when it comes to our kids. I think God wired us that way. We are nurterers, by nature.

He's back. Hmmm...

This is when I blog the most. I can vent, here. I appreciate those of you who send me comments, and encouragement.

I'm going back to my kitchen to continue on with my project. My son will enjoy the olallieberry jam I've made and the peach turnovers. He'll bite into his rib eye steak with all the side dishes I watched Tyler Florence make. He'll moan over what a great meal it is...

But, does he really understand how blessed he is?

He's pacing. I can feel him ready to blow. If I handed him $20.00, he'd be thrilled to pieces. I won't.

I pray that my son will learn that joy and good times don't always come from having money in your wallet. It comes from seeing what you do have.