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My 17-year-old son and I have a really good relationship. As it happens, he has turned out to be a witty and sharp young man. I take no credit for any of this, but merely state it as fact. However, most of that wit and sharpness is shared with a select group of his friends. And like his father, my son enjoys solitary time. I once read that an introvert needs time alone to recharge while extroverts need to be around others to recharge. By this definition, my son is an introvert. He craves "alone" time and spends great chunks of time in his room playing his guitar or playing video games. Between his school, work, and "alone" time, days have seemingly passed without our paths crossing. However, all of this
changes when I sit down to work at the computer. If indeed I have been
lonely for his company, all I need to do is set the goal of finishing "x"
number of pages that evening and VIOLA! he will appear, as if by magic. "Hey, Son." I'll
reply. "Ummmm..... I'm kind of busy." This always proves to be difficult when he is in the room because a statement to that effect usually illicits a sigh. "Oh." He'll exhale. "I
just thought we could spend a little quality time together." This all dates back to the time when he was just a little toddler with snappy black eyes and the ability to attend to himself for hours. Until, of course, the phone would ring. The moment I picked up that phone and TRIED to begin a conversation, I would feel a tugging at my legs. "Hold me, Mama; hold me." Hefting him up in my arms, I'd try to wander around and distract him while completing my conversation. His little sticky lips would come right up against mine, and he would begin to have a conversation with my lips. It seemed that he didn't NEED my attention as long as he knew that at a moment's notice he could have the entire share of it. Once however, threatened by outside activity, he had to move in and stake his claim. When he started kindergarten, I got a j-o-b and the little guy definitely was not big on that notion. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place; if I stayed at work trying to finish, he'd be piteously sad, but if I brought the work home and attempted to complete it on my laptop, he'd furiously do all he could to distract me and keep the focus right where it needed to be- on him. Some things never change. I swear that these days he has some kind of super sonic radar which enables him to realize when I am seriously in the working zone. It is at that moment that his internal alarm goes off alerting him that Mom's attention is not on the endless holding pattern, should he decide he needs a little maternal bonding. My other two sons, though also at times needy, don't seem to have this ability to sense when it is MOST difficult to be a tuned in mother. Tonight was no
different. After a deep dramatic sigh, he said something which I missed
entirely. He was buying none of it. "I just wanted a little time with my mother, but apparently, you are just TOO BUSY to spend time with me." I wondered aloud for the zillionth time since his birth why it was that he really only seemed to NEED me when I was most unable to committ my attention in his direction. "Who? Me?" He seemed
stung by the accusation. "I don't think that is true at all."
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