GOBBLE GOBBLE PLEASE DON’T PEE ON THE CARPET

I have been getting so many “Where have you been Freshman Mom?” inquiries.  And “What happened?”  and my favorite “We miss you!”

I told you all I would have to take a brief hiatus while I finished my book BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HOT PLACE.  There was no way I could write both any longer and get the ms in on time.  So now it’s in and I’m back. FRESHMEN RULE!

The problem with my sabbatical is it fell over Thanksgiving Break, which in Freshman land is a big time.  It’s the first long spell the kids are back and for many with Freshman across the country, it’s the first time they have seen them since the end of the summer.

All of the books talk about what a difficult few days that first Freshman Thanksgiving can be.  As we know I threw out the big Freshman book as I didn’t like what it said.  And being the emotional know it all that I am, I figured I was right and they were wrong.   Well, that book proves to have been right on many fronts. Guess that is why it’s in it’s like twelve hundredth printing.

We have three dogs, Ramu, Sofie and Lola not one of them is trained. Because of their lack of training they spend a lot  time in the kitchen and back bathroom of our apartment. It’s a nice life, a big room and someone is with them much of time as we all spend most of our at home time in that room.

But, given a nano second one or all will run out, head straight for the living room and pee on the rug.   Usually, the first one out is Lola, she is the smallest, though the quickest in mind as well as body. She darts out and lets whatever water is in her out right near the sofa.  Its Lola’s spot, she is telling us all, you may think I live in the kitchen, you may think you run my life, you may think I’m just a puppy mill Chihuhua and only weigh in at five pounds,  but I have a life of my own and you don’t control me.  I can make your life hell.  I can see to it you are on your hands and knees with rags, a scrub brush and Nature’s Miracle for the next half hour.  I don’t care if your movie does start in ten minutes.

Of course once Lola has marked her territory, told us who’s boss, Sofie the dauchsand has to prove to Lola as well as us while she might not have been first out of the french doors, this is also her house, her rug and she too has a free will and a full bladder that’s about to be emptied right next to my thirty year old Donghia chair. So there all of you, I may be old, I may be a bit slower, but I can show you who’s boss and if I were you Tracey I would not take that Nature’s Miracle back to the kitchen so fast. Your movie has now started, and I don’t care if you pre-purchased the tickets on Fandango.

Then of course by some miracle Ramu, the bull dog actually finds the energy to lumber his way to the rug as well, but he’s a bull dog and male and a squirt of pee is not nearly enough for him to let us know who is king of the hill.  Ramu, like a horse or an elephant has the ability to walk and poop at the same time which is exactly what he does, leaving a trail from the kitchen to wherever in the house his bowels are finally empty. If he could sing and could muster the energy I think he would to the tune of THIS LAND IS YOUR LAND.

“This house is my house, it’s not your house, from the kitchen to rug I pee on…I may be lazy, I may be stupid but I can make the biggest mess of all.”

Now I’m not comparing our Freshman offspring to my dogs,  well I sort of am. Not in personality, but in marking their territory. And quite frankly we parents do it too, and the Thanksgiving holiday is the first time our kids are back in the house packing their new freshman independence arsenal and from what I’ve heard from every parent I talk to, in one way or another – metaphorically speaking- they come home and pee on the rug.

They have to, they have to let you know and themselves know and the other kids in the house know, they are different now. But  the rug is still theirs, they still live at home but they are going to mark the territory somehow or another.

There are many ways the freshmen pee on the rug; the one I was the most prepared for was the “screw you I’m staying out all night.” Now my FM did not do this. She was actually home earlier and spent more time with us than I had ever expected her to.  But I have heard from several families where the Freshman breezed in, dropped the bags, and the dirty laundry and split. They showed up for the turkey- but little else. This seems to be the most common form of Freshman peeing on the rug.  You can’t tell me where to go, when to come home or what to do. I live by myself at college and I no longer have rules…. squirt; squirt; now you know where my territory is.  For those of you who went through this consider yourself normal, it is a phase, unlike the dogs where it is forever.  They will get over it and once they have claimed that territory, they no longer feel the need to pee on the rug every time they come home.

But if you went through it over this last holiday chances are you were on your hands and knees scrubbing the rug, while visions of all the fun family plans you had made danced out of your head and some resentment might have built up in it’s place.

When you think of this, think of Lola, the smallest dog running out of the kitchen first and getting that first pee down. It’s pretty much all they are doing.  Think of your Freshman as a cute little Chihuahua and then you will laugh and not snarl. It’s hard, but try.

The other popular way for freshman to pee on the rug is by drinking in front of you. I have heard this from several people. The years of clandestine drinking, of coming home and not coming in your room because they reeked of booze are now over.

“I’ll take a vodka tonic, so there.”  I’m grown up-squirt, squirt.

This is very popular and for some parents very upsetting. But the truth is this they are drinking at school and most of them have been drinking for years and either you have accepted it or you have been in denial.  If you have been in denial they may have to take Ramu’s position and poop all over the house to show you their world order and how you had better adjust.  Get out a mop.

We do not have this issue either. I was raised in a household (and I think it was good despite the fact anyone in AA will tell you the opposite) where I was allowed to drink wine in the house and with my mother from the time I was fifteen or sixteen. People were appalled, I remember that.  But we had a deal mom and I, if she let me drink and smoke cigarettes I would stay away from drugs: And oddly I did. I am the only person my age I know who never did anything but smoke a tiny bit of pot and I was exposed to it all at a later date. But I made the pact and I was the one person out there who bought into REEFER MADNESS and to this day I have never done drugs. ANY.  Even a few years ago when Glenn dragged me to Hunter Thompson’s in a blizzard and Hunter begged me to do “something, anything”  I refused.

I attribute this to two things, I hate to lose control and I made the pact with my mother and I actually had enough freedom I did not feel it imperative to pee on the family rug by proving anything.  So when Taylor came of age I employed the same philosophy. I think it worked as she has never come home in a state that I have seen that was out of control, and in front of us she drinks very moderately I think if she knew how to drive there would be nights where she could be the designated driver. I’m sure she does drink and can get drunk, but I have not seen evidence of a problem or need to prove she can.

So she did not come home and brazenly order drinks and down them in front of us as she didn’t’ have to.

Another way of peeing on the rug is not coming out of your room, but it’s the passive way and considering they all spent much of high school locked in their rooms  it does not signify any new world order so few do it. I have heard of one or two.

There are so many ways to pee on the rug and I am sure many kids,  like many dogs have their own unique way of marking their territory. And it is new territory, that is why Thanksgiving, the first Thanksgiving is such a big occasion. People with older kids look at you with that knowing look and go,  “Freshman Thanksgiving, be prepared.”
So I was, but Taylor marked her territory in a different way.

The coming home late we got over by the end of senior year, yet I was prepared,  I figured she would be out all night several nights. And the Saturday of Thanksgiving weekend she did go out and weirdly, despite the fact I do not call her on Saturday nights in college, I don’t even check in on Sunday until she checks in with me, and against all my natures, I don’t worry.   But the weekend she was home at two-thirty-five, five minutes after her old curfew, I woke up, jumped out of bed, checked the clock and flew into her room.  She was there. Asleep.

No pee there.

Alas, we had it out on a different front.  I would say within the first half hour of her being home we had a fight that sent us each to our rooms. Happy Holidays.

It was over a leather jacket, a beige leather jacket that belongs to yours truly, that had somehow miraculously made it’s way to Boston.  When I found out about this I insisted it come back on Thanksgiving, my jacket, my territory, my part of the rug to pee on.

So she came home wearing it – it might be my jacket, but it was on her body, possession being nine tenths of the law, it was hers. We said our  hellos with hugs.  I was elated to see the jacket and her in one piece.   I knew from talking to her she was OK, I was more concerned about the jacket at that moment.

So once she was in, the was luggage down.

“Happy you’re home.  How was the train? Take off the jacket.”

No, she kept it on and on and on.

She peed on the rug by refusing to take off my jacket.

It became a clash of wills.

I begged her to take it off.  She said she would give it back to me in an hour. What’s an hour she wanted to know?  It wasn’t the point it was my jacket, my territory and she wasn’t only peeing on it she was eating cold pasta while wearing it.

“You’re going to get grease on it.” I yelled. “It’s leather, it’s beige, it’s mine.”

“Chill out.” she said.  She was then Sofie following Lola to the rug.

I’m in college, I take off jackets when I want. It doesn’t matter who they belong to.

“No, it’s mine. It’s my jacket, I want it now. “

I’m an only child.  I don’t share easily. She knows this.  She knew what she was doing,  She was pushing my buttons.  She was marking her grown- up territory.  She was peeing on the rug:  As long as she didn’t pee on the jacket.

It escalated into a fight, a full blown fight over a jacket, with slammed doors, curse words, “I’m sorry I came home,” as she threw me the jacket.

“Yeah well I m sorry you’re here.” as I checked it for damage. Then I took it to my room, she climbed into her nest bed and we didn’t’ talk.

What was that about???????

It was some form of the new world order, mixed in with the old.

By noon the next day it resolved itself.
We had one more big fight over something I don’t even remember at the end of the weekend, which ended quickly and I made her eggs before she left for the station and I made sure my jacket was in the closet and all was well. For the most part we had a good holiday.

There are so many swirling, whirling feelings and emotions and uncertainties at this age, the only place I think they really have to feel safe peeing on the rug is at home. And while it can be annoying as hell, it’s part of the transition.

My parents divorced when I was young.

I didn’t spend a lot of time with my dad, but I would go there when my mom left town or for the day or weekend sometimes.

It was always the same thing; I didn’t want to leave home at first and would be awkward and unsure of myself when I got to my dad’s house. This caused everyone around me to walk on eggshells, but within a day or a few hours depending on the situation I would be adjusted and into the rhythm of that environment.

But then when it was time to go home, I wouldn’t want to go home sometimes and then it would take me hours or days to adjust to my daily house and routine. This caused both parents to accuse me of “not being myself” for a period of time. Which now that I think back on it made it sound like I was a burden to them. I was merely two different people in two different enviornments.
But the truth is it was hard on me. I was betwixt and between. I think many children of divorce can relate to this. It’s very difficult. And I’m sure it’s not easy on parents either, but as parents we are supposed to be grown up enough to deal with it.

And actually, no one ever said.
“This must be hard on you. How does this make you feel?”

(You can see this line on the new TWITTER, Larry, his sister Judy and I started today called “momneversaid” follow us)

Anyway, it’s hard for kids, I suppose instead of running around with the Nature’s Miracle feeling displaced ourselves, we should ask “How does this make you feel?”

Is it weird being here after being there? How can we all make it work?

I tried it a few times actually and got nowhere in the beginning but made progress after a few days.

They are no longer little kids, but they are in their rooms.  They are used to freedom but the family has rules and plans and things they must abide by. They want their independence but they like mom making their favorite foods and doing their laundry and wearing her clothes.  And because of all that, they MUST in some form or another pee on the rug to mark who they are when they are not at home and how they have changed though they may sometimes revert to old ways and habits.

It’s not easy for us either, but it’s easier, we haven’t moved, our friends are still in their places; our jobs are the same and  our routine for the most part remains stable.

In the same way its hardest for Lola being the tiniest of the dogs, though she has more power than the others in an odd way, she has to prove it by peeing first.

It is the same with the Freshmen.

So my advice is keep a big bottle of Nature’s Miracle on hand and ask.

“How does this make you feel?”

They may not answer right away, but they will be grateful that you acknowledge their individuality and the fact that their feelings count and they are going through many changes and fluctuating thoughts they tend to keep inside.

BTW – you can buy Nature’s Miracle by the gallon from PetDirect.com.

FRESHMAN MOM