July 27, 2011 | 10:14 am
Posted by Ilana Angel
My son has now been away on vacation for 26 days. It has been the longest 26 days of my life. I’ve been counting down until he gets home and I am thrilled to say he will finally be back in just 5 days. I am so excited I could scream. He is having a fabulous time, and I am happy for him, but enough already. I want him home and cannot wait to hug him.
I am friends with my son, and a lot of his friends, on Facebook. That’s a big deal considering they are teenagers. I am very proud of the fact that we are Facebook pals as there are a lot of kids who will not friend their parents. To be clear, he is not allowed to have a Facebook account unless I am able to see it, but we are friends by choice, not force.
It’s been hard for me having him so far away, and for so long. I’ve worked really hard to not cry when he calls, or to be crazy with questions when we iChat, but I have been unable to completely control myself on Facebook. I post on his wall, tell him I miss him, and comment on the things he is doing and the pictures he shares. Facebook has been awesome.
A few days ago, in a moment of complete madness, I wrote on his page, “9 DAYS! 9 DAYS! 9 DAYS! 9 DAYS! 9 DAYS! 9 DAYS! 9 DAYS!”. He never commented on it so the next day I posted, “8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS! 8 DAYS!”. Before I could stop myself, I had added days 7 and 6. I also threw in a few, “I love you’s”.
I was in heaven. My son was safe and having a glorious time, and I was able to freely post on his Facebook page that I loved him, and missed him madly. With him almost home, I was flying high and totally in love with my son. I know it’s ridiculous that writing on his Facebook was so great, but if you have a teenager you get it. It’s a huge deal people.
I am protective of this gift as my kid will not allow his dad to be friends with him on Facebook. I have worked hard to build up the trust, and I treasure it. Well, you can imagine my surprise when I got a call from my son last night with one simple question: “Mom. Seriously. What the hell are you doing on my Facebook? I love you, but come on.”
Turns out my son had not been on Facebook in a few days, and therefore had no idea I was bombarding his page with displays of love. He pointed out that the last 12 things posted on his page were all by his mother. I guess his friends thought it was so funny they did not post so it would be all me, all the time, being a clinging and pathetic mom, missing her kid.
For a quick second I panicked and thought he would give me the “I need to unfriend you Mom” speech. Instead he told me that while he thought the posts were funny and sweet, it was a bit much and he wondered if I would be offended if he deleted a few of them. He assured me it was for my own good, as I appeared to be a little psycho on his page.
I love this kid. Knowing who he was dealing with, he gently let me know that as much as he loved my posts, they needed to go. Translation: “You are insane mom and I am taking your gross things off my page, but will make you think I love them so as not to make you snap and take away my Facebook because you are crazy.” He rocks.
And so was my first Facebook ban by my son. In looking at his page I had to laugh as it was clearly a desperate couple of days where I lost my mind. I love him for telling me, for deleting my madness, and for not trying to dump me. I cannot wait to see him. 5 DAYS! 5 DAYS! 5 DAYS! 5 DAYS! 5 DAYS! I’m counting, waiting, and keeping the faith.
5.24.13 at 7:07 am | Burning myself has shown me I am burning out.
5.23.13 at 3:17 pm | Dating, divorce, death, and marriage, all require. . .
5.22.13 at 6:34 am | I am forever touched by this young man.
5.19.13 at 5:43 pm | JDate should be more of a mensch.
5.17.13 at 5:27 pm | I am never going on another coffee date.
5.14.13 at 4:36 pm | Love needs a kick in the ass.
5.23.13 at 3:17 pm | Dating, divorce, death, and marriage, all require. . . (365)
5.19.13 at 5:43 pm | JDate should be more of a mensch. (360)
5.14.13 at 4:36 pm | Love needs a kick in the ass. (268)
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