Pomp and Circumstance: Use Your Words

Today’s post is a monthly writing challenge. If you’re new here, this is how it works: participating bloggers picked 4 – 6 words or short phrases for someone else to craft into a post. All words must be used at least once. All of the posts will be unique as each writer has received their own set of words. That’s the challenge, here’s a fun twist; no one who’s participating knows who got their words and in what direction the recipient will take them. Until now.

At the end of this post you’ll find links to the other blogs featuring this challenge. Check them all out, see what words they got and how they used them.
I'm using: aggravate ~ college ~ integrity ~ longitude ~ restaurant
They were submitted by Rena of The Blogging 911.

                          
Now I'm not saying that he's doing it just to aggravate me, but my youngest son graduates from college tonight. ★  

Granted I'm grateful to be finished with the huge bills we've been paying for the past four years, not just tuition and housing and food and books and spending money and gas money and frat dues, but airfare every time we brought him home. And let me just tell you, having a kid live in a latitude and longitude 10 hours from mine makes everything more difficult. Like when he broke his leg, when his frat brother/chef died unexpectedly, when he had a flat tire (3 in one year, actually) . . . I could go on but you get it.

So yes, the finances and the logistics have been a challenge. But what really has me annoyed, flabbergasted actually, is that I was just attending college myself about a blink of an eye ago, how can it possibly be that I'm old enough for my baby to be graduating himself? How? Really? I want to know.

Well, now that it seems inevitable, (both his graduation and my advanced age), we all enter the next phase of this journey. I am hoping that he will take a few months off before starting work, but the reality still is that my favorite (well, one of them) taste tester will no longer be spending 4 weeks in the winter and 10 weeks in the summer home with me.

Orange Sesame Thumbprint Cookies

Whichever job offer he accepts, we will set him up, make sure he has a place to live, furniture, a car and whatever else he needs. I will try, yet again, to make him understand that he needs to learn to cook a little. Fast food restaurants cannot be the source of his every meal like it has been this past year since he moved out of his frat.

But that is for tomorrow. Tonight is for reflection. Celebration. For Pomp and Circumstance and a tear or two.

It's been quite a ride, these past four years. It's been full of successes but also set-backs. It's been an eye opening experience for him, having to deal with so much on his own. And all while achieving over a 3.0 GPA with a BS in Computer Science and a Minor in Organizational Leadership Skills. Because in the end his integrity has been a beacon. We know, and he knows, that in good times and in bad (sometimes really, really bad), we have his back. But more importantly, we know that he stands firmly and solidly on his own two feet.

Congratulations, PurDude. So very proud to call you my son. ❤

Here are links to all the other Use Your Words posts:

On the Border
 The Bergham Chronicles
Southern Belle Charm
Cognitive Script 
Part-Time Working Hockey Mom 
My Brand of Crazy 
Climaxed

Orange Sesame Thumbprint Cookies

                                               ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe

Ingredients (makes about 30):

1 sticks butter, softened
1/2 cup brown sugar
2 eggs, room temperature
1/2 tsp almond extract
2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
2 oz sesame seeds

1/2 cup powdered sugar
1/2 cup orange jam
1 TBSP orange juice

Directions:
*Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Cover baking sheets with parchment paper. 
*Separate the eggs. Place the whites in a bowl and whisk lightly. Place the sesame seeds in another bowl.
*Beat the egg yolks with the butter, brown sugar, almond extract until smooth. Mix in flour and salt.
*Make approximately 3/4 inch balls with the dough. Dip them into the whisked egg whites, then press the tops into the sesame seeds. Place on the baking sheets.
*Make an indentation into the center of each cookie. Don't press all the way through.
*Bake for about 12 to 14 minutes or until light brown. Press the centers gently to reform the indentation. Cool completely.
*Whisk the powdered sugar, orange jam and the orange juice. Spoon about 1 tsp into the indentation of each cooled cookie. 

Forgiveness

I was so proud when, one year after my oldest started college, my youngest became a college student too. I knew that he was smart, moral, strong and had a good work ethic. I thought, with a pat on the back, that I had taught him all he needed to know to go off on his own.

He ended up 700 miles away in situations we could never see coming. And I was right, with support from us from afar and his own strength of character, he met each obstacle, conquered, grew and moved on.

This week was a different story.

 I had to write my son an email today. It was the hardest letter I've ever had to write.

Son:

I'm writing this in an email instead of a text because it's long and I want you to read it on your laptop, not a tiny cell phone screen, and truly think about it. I hope that you will print it and that all through your life, when needed, you will have it to refer to.

Of all the things we taught you growing up, although responsibility was one of them and consequences was another, I guess we never gave a whole lot of thought to helping you understand how to deal with the fallout of mistakes. YOUR mistakes. I know you learned how to forgive others, how to get past, as best you can, being wronged, but we were remiss when it comes to the process of forgiving yourself.

I put part of the responsibility on you. You are a great kid. You never got into a lot of trouble. You had a definite sense of whether or not you liked someone and held on to those feelings but you never fought with people, you chose more to walk away than deal with mean kids and drama. You kept the peace with your brother whose teenage years were quite turbulent. You studied hard, worked hard, chose friends with discrimination. your growth into independence was not fraught with some of the wild antics many teenagers get involved in.

You made mistakes, most small. Some, like TWO speeding tickets in one week, bigger. But not really epic ones. A lot of the trouble that many kids got into in high school, you didn't. You lead a sheltered life and in retrospect I think I owe you an apology for that. Now that you are hundreds of miles away at college you're going through so many issues neither one of us saw coming.

You've had a friend arrested for a serious crime, had another friend die, you broke your leg, the first bone you've ever broken. Through all of these I counseled long distance. I knew they'd be hard, physically and emotionally challenging. I thought about flying out there a time or two, but ultimately I knew you were well equipped to deal with these challenges yourself. Your integrity, maturity and character could and did get you through. I was heartbroken for you, and so very proud of you.

But this week you made a mistake. A huge one. I'm not sure we've really gotten to the bottom of it, how much was your responsibility and how much was made worse by another, but honestly it doesn't matter. It is not the mistakes you make in life or your level of culpability but what you do with them. Because of them.

At first you were confused, put most of the blame on someone else. But you showed so much maturity by not only seeking out others who were there for their perspective but really internalizing it.

There are steps to learning from mistakes and you've taken most of them.

1) You are coming to terms with the external blame. Whatever someone else did or didn't do to exacerbate the situation, you cannot change. Let it go. Adjust your relationship with them, but let it go.

2) You called your parents and took responsibility. I know that had to be excruciating, thinking you let us down. 

3) You are aware that there may possibly be more consequences and whatever you think of them, you will accept them.

4) You sat in your room for an entire day feeling forlorn and embarrassed. Good. You should. Big mistakes are not easy to get over. But there is a line between embarrassed and ashamed. You should not be ashamed. You made an error in judgement that many, actually most, kids do.

5) You learned from it. There are things you will not do again and therein lies the core of making mistakes. Learning from them and moving on as a better person.

But you're stuck on the last one, forgiving yourself. And you will truly have let us down if you don't find a way to navigate this one. You must move on, the rest of your life depends on it.

After spending a day wallowing in it, I suggested something that works for me, the reason I blog. I do it to temporarily fully immerse my brain in something else. Forget just for a while, give yourself a much needed emotional respite. And you did. Sort of. You spent a second entire day in your room working on a project, leaving only for class and for 5 minutes for dinner.

That was not what I meant.

Passover Pancakes

Face the friends who know. The longer you hide, not only the more you just put off the inevitable, but the less time you're spending building new experiences and memories with them. Do you want this to be how you and others define you?

If not, get out there. Red-faced at first. Embarrassed by the mistake but NOT ashamed of yourself. Hold your head high. You are not a mistake. You are a person of very high character who made an error in judgement. Do not let this one circumstance swallow your self esteem. And it is. I can hear it.

Your frat had a party that second night. you had signed up to work it and you did. I know it was hard, but first steps always are.

Now take the rest of those steps. Knowing that we, your family, are here for you. We believe in you. We don't care that you make mistakes, but we absolutely do care about what you do despite them. And what you now need to do is to release yourself from the crushing weight of this guilt. With the lesson learned, it is no longer serving any purpose.

Forgive yourself, son. Find a way. And remember how you did it. Because although this is your first really big mistake. It will not be your last.

So proud of you. Still and always.
Mom

Passover Pancakes

                                                                        ©www.BakingInATornado.com

 

Printable Recipe

NOTE: For the pancake pictured I made a large pancake using about 1/2 cup of the batter and topped it with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and a cherry.
 

Ingredients (serves about 4 adults):

1 cup matzo meal
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt 
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups milk
about 6 pats of butter

OPT: leftover Charoses.

Directions:
*Whisk together the matzo meal, sugar and salt. Whisk in the eggs and milk. 
*Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate an hour (I make it the night before and leave it in the refrigerator overnight).
*Remove batter from fridge. Melt a pat of butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Place about 6 - 7 tablespoons of batter, individually and separated, into hot pan (I make these the size of "silver dollar pancakes"). Batter is thick, if you want thinner pancakes, spread them carefully with the back of your tablespoon.
*If using, place a little charoses in the center of each pancake and press gently into the batter. When the bottom is browned, flip and cook the other side just as you would with any pancake.
*Repeat with the rest of the butter and the rest of the batter.

University of Mom

I miss my boy. Truth is, it seems that nothing makes me happy. One son is in college 700 miles away and I can't stand how much I miss him. The other one is living at home again and I can't stand how much I miss missing him. {{Sigh}}.

Somewhere there has to be a happy medium, a middle ground, a compromise of some sort. 

So while I try to figure out how to get College Boy a little further away, I'm also trying to work out a way to get PurDude a little closer.

PurDude came very close to not going back to Purdue this year. He went through a devastating situation immediately followed by a heartbreaking loss last semester. It was all too much, for all of us. He applied for a transfer to our local university an hour away, where College Boy was going to school.

You'd think I'd be thrilled, right? Turned out not so much. Yes, I wanted him closer, but even though PurDude had been solicited into the honors program there, I really felt that he wouldn't get the caliber of education that he should have. Purdue is a better school for Computer Science. I was torn.

I made him an offer. One I thought he couldn't refuse. I hadn't quite figured out the dorm situation yet, but I did put together a list of class offerings. 

Welcome to the University of Mom.

Real Holidays in American Culture: 
Fruitcake Toss Day, I Forgot Day, Bad Poetry Day, If Pets Had Thumbs Day, how many holiday celebrations are you missing out on? But the main focus of this class is one we already celebrate and the one it's really all about: Halloween.
*This course meets a history requirement or a sociology requirement.

Goo, Guck, and Fake Blood:
Making your own goo, guck and fake blood is a skill you can use through your entire life, not just on Halloween, but to get out of any task you choose to avoid. 
*This course meets a nutrition requirement or an art requirement.
 
The Freshman 15, Fact or Fiction:
Most students start college not realizing that they need to watch what they eat. In this class we'll explore strategies for making through the school year without ripping your pants.
*This course meets no requirements but the snacks are to die for.

Bloody Fingers Halloween Dinner

Siestas in Everyday Life: 
You are what you eat? No, you are what you sleep. Power naps: when to take them and how they relate to your future success.
Note: this course is designed to be taken in conjunction with "The Freshman 15, Fact or Fiction".
 Also Note: For all you party animals, this is "siestas" not "fiestas".
*This course meets a foreign language or a philosophy requirement.

When and When Not to Post: 
What will that future employer think of that FB picture of you with your underwear over your head? In this class we will explore social media scenarios as they pertain to your future.
*This course meets a business or a sociology requirement.

The Art of the Selfie: 
 All your pictures show the inside of your nose or the wax in your ears? Learn the art of taking a successful selfie.
Note: this course has a prerequisite. You must first take and pass "When and When Not to Post"
*This course can meet a business or an art requirement.

Hard to believe but my offer was rejected. Before I even had a chance to work out the housing situation. Maybe I better work on a scholarship program.

Bloody Fingers Halloween Dinner

                                                                        ©www.BakingInATornado.com

Printable Recipe
 
Ingredients:
4 hot dogs and/or precooked sausage links 
1 mini hot dog
1 slice bread
ketchup
black edible piping gel
6 - 8 slices deli roast beef

NOTE: you will need 5 toothpicks and a clear disposable glove

Directions:
*Cut the bottoms of the hot dogs and/or sausages about 1 inch up in half and then cut each half in half. Be careful not to keep the strips attached to the hot dog.
*Make three thin shallow slices sideways on the hot dog in two separate places to resemble knuckles.
*Place the hot dogs and the mini hot dog onto a microwave safe plate and microwave for 1 1/2 minutes or until the color starts to change and the bottom pieces separate.
*Cut a very small piece off of the top of the hot dog, just to create a straight edge. push a toothpick down inside, close to the top, so it's sticking out about 1/4 inch.
*Cut the crust off of the bread. Cut 5 triangles out of the bread. The bottom should be approximately the width of the top of the hot dog. For length, it should approximate a fingernail.
*Toast the bread pieces. Remove and gently push the flat portion of each piece of toast into the toothpick at the top of the hot dog to look like a fingernail.
*Garnish around the fingernail with ketchup to look like blood.
*Pipe the black gel around the fingernail for definition.
*Tape the plastic glove "fingers" to the back of the glove. Fill the glove with the roast beef slices. Place under the hot dog fingers to resemble a hand. Squeeze ketchup over the bottoms of the hot dogs and the top of the glove.
NOTE: I do not serve the roast beef slices, I use them only for decoration, then discard.

 

When You’re not There, Again

I recently wrote about my younger son, who I call PurDude, and the heartbreaking situation that he's caught up in. That is all still playing out. The boys have been through a trial, been sanctioned by the school and are trying to get through the fallout. These are good kids, focused on school and on community service. The national office of their fraternity is supporting them, but locally the focus is on punishment. There's not a lot of compassion for what these guys are suffering. And they ARE suffering.

One of the things that brings me comfort, as a mom, is that there is an adult who works in the fraternity house where PurDude lives, who feeds these boys and who has a relationship with them all. Chef Mark has been with the house for 10 years. He is so much a member of the family that the boys, just this past semester, made him a brother. That’s the kind of boys they are. And that’s how much they think of Chef Mark.

Crockpot BBQ Beef Grilled Cheese

I have to admit that at first I was jealous of Chef Mark. PurDude has always been a very picky eater, yet I kept hearing that he loves Chef Mark’s food. Even his wings. Now those are fighting words. MY Baked Hot Wings are PurDude’s favorite dinner. Hearing that Chef Mark went out of his way to also make desserts? And that those desserts were epic? Very very jealous.

But ultimately the friendship he offers, the adult presence in their lives, the fact that food is purchased for them and meals are on the table, all made me feel that my son was being cared for. And when he’s hundreds of miles away, that is priceless.

When the boys got back to school after winter break they heard some sad news. Chef Mark had just lost his father. I asked PurDude if the house did anything in memory of Chef's father. Of course they did. They also told Chef Mark to go wherever he needed to be, do whatever he needed to do, take whatever time he needed off.

Chef came to the frat to cook. He told the boys that this is where he needed to be. This is what he needed to do.

That was in January. It was in February, just one month after my son started dealing with the emotional upheaval and the loss of a friend from that first situation, that I received a call from PurDude. He told me that Chef’s wife had called. Chef had a heart attack and was in the hospital.

The boys couldn’t get much information. The hospital, of course, wasn’t releasing it and they were not yet allowed to visit. They anxiously waited for word that they had permission to see Chef Mark.

The next morning the boys heard that Chef would be out for about 2 weeks. Knowing that there is often rehab and endurance restrictions following a cardiac event I wasn't sure, but for now this was good news.

Beside all of my concerns with what these boys had already been dealing with, beside my genuine concern for a man who means so much to these kids, I now was worried about my son eating. He lives in this house. He's going through a traumatic time. He is in extremely difficult classes. Now they all have to worry about providing their own meals?

The endurance of friendship despite physical distance is an amazing thing. So is coincidence.

When I moved to the Midwest I developed a number of friendships with people who were also not from here. We served as each others' support system, we were each others' family in so many senses. Susan was one of those friends, a really good friend. She has 2 daughters the same ages as my two sons. I was sad, many years ago, when she moved away. Coincidentally she's now an hour and a half from Purdue where one of her daughters happens to go to school.

Susan is a force to be reckoned with. She insisted on going to the store, stocking up on pre-made dinners and driving a carload of food an hour and a half to the frat. She was already at the store when I caught her to tell her that the boys were able to arrange for a temporary chef.

And I had at least one less thing to worry about. The boys would have food on the table as Chef recovered. 

The next day I heard the ding of an incoming text from my son:

Chef has passed away.

I called immediately. The emotional enormity of the situation was almost incomprehensible. I was now calling my young son to express my condolences.

I know I’m the mom and I thought I had myself under control but the minute I heard his voice I lost it.

My son who was already going through so much just took another kick to the gut.

And I am still not there.

I didn’t hold back this time. I asked him if he wanted me to fly up there. I asked him if he wanted to come home.

No. Spring Break is in 3 weeks, I’m already flying him home then. He’s not leaving now, he’s going to pay his respects to Chef Mark.

We talked a little, not much. We were both a bit stunned.

Again.

Overwhelmed.

Again.

Before we hung up I asked if he has his suit at school. He does but he’s concerned because his is navy, he doesn’t have a black suit.

I told him that he doesn’t need a black suit, just his dark suit and a conservative shirt. Black is for family.

“He IS family, Mom. He’s a brother.”

With all of my heart I hope that Chef Mark knew that a group of boys off on their own and reveling in their freedom from adult supervision considered him a friend. That these boys chose him to be their brother. That they loved and respected him. That they wanted him in their lives. That they are better young men for having known him. That he helped make their house a home. That his presence and his work mattered. That his food nourished them in so many more ways than one. That he will not be forgotten.

And that the plaque hanging in the frat kitchen, and the duplicate presented to his wife at the memorial dinner put on at the house by the boys, is a tribute to all that he meant to so many young men. 

My deepest condolences to Chef Mark’s wife and mother. 

My heartfelt sympathies go out as well to my son and to every one of those remarkable young men who were, and will always be, Chef Mark's brothers.

Crockpot BBQ Beef Grilled Cheese

                                                                            ©www.BakingInATornado.com
 
Printable Recipe
 
Ingredients:
2 TBSP brown sugar
1 TBSP paprika
1 tsp garlic powder
¼ tsp cumin
2 tsp salt
2 tsp pepper
 
2 – 3 # round roast
 
1 onion, sliced
3 slices of bacon, cooked crisp and crumbled
½ cup seedless raspberry jam
32 ounce bottle of Barbecue Sauce
1 cup water

2 slices bread per sandwich
1 TBSP butter, divided, per sandwich
2 slices provolone per sandwich
 
Directions (Crockpot BBQ Beef):
*Mix together the brown sugar, paprika, garlic powder, cumin, salt and pepper. Rub all over the rinsed and dried roast.
*In slow cooker, mix the onion, bacon, jam, barbecue sauce and water. Add the roast and spoon the sauce over the roast.
*Cook on high for 1 hour. Reduce to low and cook for 4 hours. Turn the meat over at the half way point.
*Remove meat from slow cooker, slice and return to the cooker for another hour.


Directions (BBQ Beef Grilled Cheese):
* Melt ½ TBSP butter into a pan on medium heat. Place one slice of bread in the pan, swirl it around so it’s coated with butter and remove. Melt the second ½ TBSP of butter into the pan. Put the second slice of bread in the pan. Swirl it around so it’s coated in butter. Place the slice of provolone onto the bread, followed by some of the onions that cooked with the roast, then a slice of the roast followed by another slice of provolone. Top with the first slice of bread, butter side up.
*Turn the heat down a notch and cook until the lower slice of bread has browned.
*Using a spatula, carefully flip the sandwich over and cook until the bottom slice of bread is also browned. Serve the sauce on the side.

When You’re Not There

I am devastated. I have been for a while now. I’d like to say that I handled the news with maturity when I first read it, but I did not. I called PurDude (what I call my son, if you’re new here) and what I said was:

WHAT.  THE.  FUCK.

Sadly, I said it twice.

My son, my wonderful, intelligent, honorable, hardworking son is caught up in a heartbreaking situation.

This is his first year of college and he’s hundreds of miles away. He worked hard to get into a good school, chose a fraternity that requires high grades to stay a member in good standing and focuses on community service. That’s the kind of man he’s becoming and these are the values of the people he’s sought out to associate himself with.

PurDude lived in a dorm first semester. His roommate was foreign. Although there was not animosity, there wasn’t a connection either. Some people just don’t click. PurDude made lots of friends both in classes and in his dorm. He and 2 other boys formed “The Jew Crew”.  Despite the discomfort in his room, it was a fun time for him.

his side of his dorm room

When rush started, PurDude attended a number of functions. From the start he knew that there was a connection with one particular frat. They offered my son one of their first bids and although he checked out other fraternities, PurDude knew this was the right fit for him.

Once he was a Brother, we decided that PurDude would move into the frat for 2nd semester. He’d be taking some extremely difficult required classes that make or break Computer Science majors. I felt that it would be best for him to be in a more comfortable environment, and he would have a private room at the frat. We jumped through all kinds of hoops with the school, which required us not only to pay 60% of the dorm fee for a room he wouldn’t be living in, but 60% of the food he would not be eating. Absurd, but the frat deducted it from his room and board and ultimately we felt that this would be the best stress-free living environment for him. He moved in one week before coming home for winter break.

setting up his private room in the frat

While home, I reveled in the pride I saw in him for his association with this school, this frat and these friends. Especially with him so far away, to see him embraced, to see him thrive, I can’t even express how that feels as a parent.

About a week after returning to school, spring rush had begun and there was a party at his fraternity. Because PurDude is underage and because I had driven his car 700 miles up to him in October, he chose to work the party as a Sober Driver. These brothers are available throughout the night to drive anyone who’s been drinking at the party wherever they need to go.

A week after the party, a brother, a good friend of my son’s, was removed from the frat, banned from the school, taken away, arrested for rape.

Yes, you read that right.

The alleged incident took place the night of the party.

The frat was shut down by the university pending an investigation into an unsanctioned party and underage drinking (not the alleged rape, that is in the hands of the city police and prosecutor). Until further notice they were no longer a frat. Spring rush was over, the lights went out and these boys were left to come to terms with a devastating explosion in their lives.

 Obviously there’s much I can’t discuss here and now. What I am able to express is the frustration, the sheer helplessness a parent can feel when their child is caught up in something out of his control. When he’s hurt, when he’s distressed at what the alleged victim and her family are going through, when he’s questioning his ability to judge character in friendships, when his reputation is on the line, when he doesn’t know if his school will support or judge him harshly, when he’s grappling with how to take responsibility for what may have gone on in his home.

When you know that your child will forever be profoundly changed by what has, is, and will continue to happen. When he could very well be collateral damage.

And you are just plain not there.

I don’t want you to misconstrue what I’m not addressing here as my diminishing the gravity of the legal charges. Hardly. I’m crushed by the thought of it. What I know of the incident and the aftermath is haunting me. But I'm not going to publicly comment on these elements of this specific incident and this is why: 
 

*Rape: because there’s nothing to discuss. It’s not an issue with sides where you take one or the other. It’s wrong. Earth shattering wrong.

*Allegations of rape: because it’s not my place. I hope everyone directly involved gets the legal, medical and emotional help they deserve. But the bottom line is that although I’ve read stories, the media does not get everything right. Although I’ve heard stories, word of mouth is not the absolute truth either. The police will continue to investigate, there may or may not be a trial. This is how our system works and it’s not fair to anyone involved for me to publicly speculate.

*Underage drinking, whether or not it does happen on college campuses and did or did not happen in this in this instance will be determined  by people other than me.

In that first phone call there were so many things I wanted to say to my son, so much I wanted him to know and to understand. It is beyond frustrating that I’m not able to have these conversations face-to-face. That he’s so damn far away the first time that life really seriously kicks him in the face.

Shattered.

All of us.

Like most parents of teenagers, we’ve had conversations about alcohol and how it impairs judgment. About how it impairs your ability to see that you’re impaired. This is true whether you’re underage or of age.

We’ve also discussed rape. Many people think that these are difficult conversation. To me they’re not. They’re actually easy because there’s no grey area, it’s a simple matter of right and wrong.

But when you take rape out of the realm of the hypothetical and into an actual allegation, an actual arrest; when it involves friends on both sides of the equation, what the hell do you say then? This is something, as a parent, that you have to acknowledge that you will never, ever make right. On any level.

That day one of the things I wanted him to know was that the friendship he had with this boy was real. I personally met this boy and his family and found them all to be friendly and fun and personable. Now he’s accused of rape. How could my son wrap his head around this when I can’t? I wanted PurDude to know that people are complex, not all good or all bad. Whatever happened here, good people can do bad things, even horrendous things that can change the course of their lives. And others’ lives. That doesn’t mean that the friendship wasn’t real. I needed to validate my son’s period of mourning. Because he truly is mourning the loss of a friendship.

Of course my son grew up knowing about consequences. If I had a penny for every time I’ve said “there are consequences to your behavior” I’d be rich.

If there was a rape, there will be consequences. If there was underage drinking, there will be consequences. If the party wasn’t sanctioned, there will be consequences. Many of these charges are disputable but, again, I’m not going there.

Consequences are not always fair. There’s collateral damage too, and my son and his friends could well be just that. They could end up not being a fraternity. They could end up without a place to live. Their personal reputations could be called into question. They will forever be associated with this incident. The way they felt about their school, their frat, their friendships and themselves has changed. How do I help him make sense of this?

I can’t. I can only tell him that when you’re caught up in circumstances beyond your control, what you do from then on is who you are. Your understanding of how to negotiate life, your character, your strength, all are built on the foundation of these hardships.

There have been many conversations since that first one, we’ve video chatted in order to see his face as we try to support him through this time. There are texts and calls as he continues to try to: focus on class work, interview with the campus investigator and with the attorney hired for the frat, come to terms with the loss of a friendship, actively support the family of the alleged victim, as he goes through the university trial and sanctions, struggles with the details as they become public, deals with the media presence at his front door, the limbo that is his life for the forseeable future.

But all through that first night, as I grappled with that to say to him next, how to best help him pick up the pieces and try to form his life and his self image into some semblance of a whole picture again; as I decided to fly down there, then acknowledged that this instinct had to be suppressed, I came to terms with a truth. This is his to deal with. He can and he will because he is equipped.

Much later that night, just as I was putting my head down to try to catch a minute of sleep, I picked up my phone and, with tears in my eyes, texted my son:

I love you. I’m very proud of you. Always.

Lessons Learned When School’s Out

School was out for almost 3 weeks but learning didn’t end. As the boys settled into some well deserved free time; no classes, not even a book was opened, I was getting schooled.

This was my virgin winter break with both boys in college, so I was definitely a newbie. It turns out you CAN teach an old dog new tricks. I learned many:

1. If you can’t beat them (and you can’t) you may as well join them. Since they sleep till noon, breakfast was at 1 pm, lunch at 5 pm, and dinner at 9 pm, if they’re home for it. More than likely Mom and Dad will be eating dinner alone at a time they never wanted to be eating. Oh, and snack time is any time. Really more like all the time. 2 am is not out of the question.

2. Sleep is for moms of babies. You will not make it through a full night and I’m not talking about bathroom trips. Fall asleep and the garage door goes up. Fall back asleep and it goes up a second time. Start to fall asleep and you realize you never heard it go down after the last time it went up . . .

3. When changing the sheets on the beds, roll them up inside themselves, head straight out to the freezing cold, then unwrap them so you can shake all the food out.

4. Don’t think you’re so smart shaking the food out of the sheets outdoors. The rest of the crumbs from all the missing food can be found in your car. You can’t turn that inside out and shake it.

5. Math lesson: adding one person back to the household doubles the grocery bill. At least. And when they leave it’ll stay doubled until the pantry gets restocked.

Mushroom Stuffed Buttermilk Biscuits

6. Apparently, no matter what your kids are learning at college, there’s also a loss of valuable information going on too. First is knowing how to put dishes into the dishwasher and how to wipe off the counter.

7. Current events: dinner conversation will never be the same. You now know every reason (rational and otherwise) why marijuana should be legal in every state.

8. Logic (or lack thereof): the front door will never be locked. No matter how many times you walk by and lock it, the next time you walk by it’ll be unlocked.

9. If you ask them to remember to do something (like sit down with you to order their books for next semester), here’s your language lesson:

“I’ll never remember” means “I’ll never remember”.

“I’ll try to remember” means “I’ll never remember”.

“OK, I’ll remember” means “I’ll never remember”.

10. Time will fly. One day you’re picking him up at the airport and the next you’re watching him walk back towards that plane. There will be tears. Lots and lots of tears.

Mushroom Stuffed Buttermilk Biscuits

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Printable Recipe
 
Ingredients:
2 cans of jr sized buttermilk biscuits
1 TBSP butter
1/2 # mushrooms
2 green onions
1 clove minced garlic
¼ tsp salt
1/8 tsp pepper
1 TBSP flour
3 ounces cream cheese, softened
 
Directions:
*Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Lightly grease a baking sheet.
*Open the cans of biscuits. Peel the top off of each biscuit and set the tops aside. Place the bottoms on the baking sheet.
*Clean and slice the mushrooms. Clean and chop the green onions.
*Melt the butter in a saucepan over medium heat. Add the mushrooms, green onion, garlic, salt and pepper. Cook and stir until the mushrooms are soft and completely cooked. 
*Turn the heat down one notch, add the flour and cook, stirring constantly, for one minute.
*Turn the heat down to warm and add the cream cheese. Cook and stir until the cream cheese is completely melted.
*Place about ¾ of a tsp of the mushroom filling into the center of each biscuit bottom on the baking sheet. Top with the biscuit tops you’d set aside.
*Place in oven and bake for 11 minutes.