History...

History has been popping up on me lately.

I recalled the other day, something I hadn't thought of probably since it happened, but my mom used to pull my loose teeth by tying a string around them and tying the other end to a door knob, and then slamming the door. It makes me laugh at how cruel it was now, to be clear my mother had no intention of being cruel, in fact she subscribed to some old wives tale that a loose tooth HAD to come out (wouldn't it have come out eventually? What was the rush? I think the fear involved something about swallowing the tooth), and for whatever reason this was the most logical method. But how she never thought of the crippling fear and terror such a thing might create cracks me up. I just remember being almost frantic during the set up, trying to decide if sitting through this or getting a whooping would be more painful. Funny thing is that I don't really remember it hurting, I just remember the agony of anticipation. I think it only happened a couple times, I learned pretty quickly that if I just get the tooth out before she noticed it was loose I could avoid the whole situation. My mother was an insane person-lol and good Lord I love her.

Thats the thing about being a parent, its happening in real time, there is no ability to put a moment on pause and deliberate all appropriate courses, or all possible outcomes of any one decision. You just have to do it, and hope for the best. Its not until they are an adult or after a few years that you can look back and determine which idea worked and which one didn't. The more things I see my parents go through with my little brother, now 18, the more I see what a difficult tight rope parents walk. There just is no "right" way. Each kid is different. Each one needs a different kind of attention/discipline/level of nurturing/independence etc. Its a crap shot. You don't know what kind of kid you are going to get or what approach will work best with said child. And you only have a few years to get it right, you get it wrong and the rest of your life and theirs you spend in regret and they spend jacked up in some form or fashion. History: I look back on my step brother and my step dad. First arrest at 18 after teen years chalk full of screw ups bad decision making and just general bad kid stuff. He got plenty of whoopings, talking to-s, bible admonishments, counseling etc, he simply couldn't/wouldn't pull it together. All the things that worked for his sister failed for him. And 18 was essentially the beginning of his end. That first arrest put his life on a course that he would never quite recover from. He did a little jail time, probation. Got out did well, then violated. More jail time, more probation/parole, and on and on and on. He's now well over 45 and doing something like 2-6 as we speak. He could never quite find his footing on the outside, getting his ish completely together always alluded him. It was always one seemingly minor failing that did him in-missed parole/probation meeting, failure to register appropriately, driving illegally, and on and on and on. And it was never his fault-this grown able bodied man, never did anything that he was solely responsible for, ALSO it was never his friends. Always some external force they had no control over. Always. Present Day: my little 18 year old brother is consistently in trouble. But it's never his fault, its always someone or something else's fault. He just had his first arrest. Tomorrow we'll find out if he's getting out and what the final charges will be. Likely it shouldn't be that big of a deal, but his behavior is so frightening because its just further evidence of the fact that he is such a follower, such an identity-less kid. I just wish I knew how to reach him. I wish I knew what the formula is for him. I hear the guilt/regret/frustration in my stepmom's voice and I feel for her. By no account was she a bad mom. And even if she was, people make choices, he's not a little kid anymore. I just can't bear to see history repeat itself in this brother.

Then there is the history with Him. Its been rocky at best. Despite that, we're happy right now. But in the back of my mind, if he takes too long to get back to me with a call, or he doesn't respond to my texts for what i feel is too long. All that doubt comes back. That knot in my stomach returns and I immediately think the worst. And the killer is i know that I am over reacting but I can't make it stop...That history keeps pulling me back. He gets it, kinda. It doesn't make him as overly considerate of my feelings as I'd like him to be but he does ok.

History has been heavy on my mind.