play or be Played

So, as the mother of a 15 1/2 year old daughter, who at times seems on the verge of adulthood and at others barely out of the princess and stuffed animal stage, life can be unpredictable at the best of times. Life is filled with drama, daily ups and downs and doors slamming, only to be re-opened for a glimpse of who she used to be.
Too many older boys grace our basement playroom these days. Too many coming and going. Driving. Every parents fear of fast boys with faster cars.
Too many cars and boys littered our driveway last Friday. The age old dilemma of party crashers. "Just a few friends" turned into a major party, with uninvited guest hauling up cases of beer up our long dark driveway. One little drama after another, altercations, tears and shouting. The angst of the brink of adulthood. Nowhere to go, not old enough to be...
It started off OK with the sounds of the drum set being used again, the pool balls being whacked, the loud bass thumping the walls downstairs and alpha-male vying for dominance. One peek out of the window and another version unfolded. Of course after I saw the beer I had to appear. Playing MOM, the bouncer. The threats of police or a call to the parents. And I just wanted those days of appearing with pizza or my infamous chocochip cookies that would sooth all just reappear from the past. It used to be easy to relate to most of these kids, and I still do...they just don't realize it yet. They are above and beyond in their search of themselves. Life is complicated for teenagers these days... they are not all bad kids, some just make bad choices. We all did. Whoever decided to egg our house after being asked to leave under threat of police or escorted off by our young toughie Andy, I do not know. But however upset my daughter was, I just had to laugh and be thankful we live in a town that uses eggs as weapons instead of more violent means.

After being on duty and meeting scores of parents that trust me with their children, I had to hide my smile at my own ineffectiveness as a parent of a child of the same age. Their over protected, overindulged children of privilege have nothing to worry about compared with our kids that rarely get out of town.
So, the escape to the cape. The much needed break away. I appreciated the warm and sunny day in which to drive, top down, music up, to Wellfleet. A glass ( or more accurately, a paper cup) of wine, I set off along the shore. The sunset was exquisite...bright yellow reflections along the water turning pink, to orange to violet higher up, reaching. The water was warm too! Shoes off, toes in the water covered with the lapping foam. Sun-soaked sand was also a comfort as was my arrival to my own small treasure. Intact although sand blown and covered. Like a warm blanket pulled up and tucked in. A comfortable layer on my bits and pieces after a month of neglect. The guardians along the way were gone...just a few lone rocks washed here and there. I built up a few, but acknowledged the futility against the power of off season wind and waves. But it was comfortable there. I was alone, yet surrounded. I pulled two wayward pieces pf driftwood about and into place, adjusted a few strands for color and sat with my wine. I felt at peace after a stressful evening of being played. Oh, the life of a parent of a teenage daughter.