It has obviously been a while since I updated. Since I’m guessing you found your way here via Caring Bridge, just want to say that Celia is doing great. Since I last posted HERE, she has: applied to 7 colleges, had two more surgeries, had a clear set of MRIs, gotten into 6 of those colleges (so far), got herself a job, joined the track team, and has become more of a generalized pain in the butt. So, she’s a normal teenager.

My other normal teenager is, well, adjusting to high school, as many young boys do, in fits and starts. On one hand the perspective that last year gave all of us is good. On the other hand, I often joked that he was left to be feral while we were at the hospital and racing around. In fact I always worried about balancing that well. I did the best I could, but we all had to grow up in very different ways. And I think he got the short end of the stick a lot.

I know every mother thinks this about her children, but James is a smart kid. Smarter than he acts, and smarter than his grades show. I will never think about the high school rat race quite the same way again, after ushering a junior through an illness that essentially took her out of it. So that’s why it was hard to meet with him and one of his teachers yesterday and try to put the fear of God into him about stepping up his performance.

Apparently, I’ve heard some people understand how to be perfectly organized, motivated, and responsible at an early age. I fall on the cluttered side of the spectrum but I can and do keep track of a lot (A LOT) of things. But I don’t know how to teach that to someone else, particularly kids. I’m not sure what my kids observe and hear, but apparently it’s not how to manifest intrinsic motivation. I have failed both of them so thoroughly in this regard, even though James’ godmother has pointed out to me on more than one occasion that intrinsic motivation can’t be externally applied. Then I worry that my work ethic or Steve’s must be lacking or not obvious, though that doesn’t truly seem to be the case, either. Celia’s has come through recently, though her maturity and perspective was hard-won. She remarked recently, “I don’t know why I thought school was so hard freshman and sophomore year. It’s pretty easy if you just go in, pay attention, and do the work.”

So, the point, 400 words into this thing: it is heart wrenching to see potential wasted. And then be reminded that I squandered my own potential at a heart wrenching rate too, probably, and that the curse of “may your children be just like you” is a sad reality. When they are, you should understand exactly how to deal with them, right? Ha.

The bigger question is how to let them fail, and how much to let them fail. And how not to apply my own expectations to that. It’s just that the stakes are now high. He was never going to go to Harvard (and, apologies to my Harvard friends) that wouldn’t have been a goal for him unless it was HIS goal. But if he does poorly enough his freshman year, his GPA can’t recover enough to get into a highly competitive school, should he want that. And just like that a door closes and his choices narrow, and he isn’t even fully cognizant that it’s happening. Well, I hope he is now though I also know he may not realize he made these decisions until he’s my age looking back. That perspective is trippy to me. Don’t get me wrong, even with the life-limiting choices I have made or inactions that have made them for me, things are pretty okay. Pretty great on my good days. It’s so interesting, to have to decide how much to push, whether to hammer, or whether to state the case and walk away.

Back to perspective: I’ve said many times this week as I have mulled over this and some of my other, related failings and idiocies that the fact that I even have the energy to do so means that we are in an amazing place compared to this time last year. I realize the inherent grace in that, and my job now is to get back to the zen place I managed to find last year, only this time with 100 percent LESS cancer.