Running Away From Home

Two weeks ago, I exclaimed joyfully at breakfast that I was going to be a mother of a teenager in a month's time.  It would be another milestone.  A milestone I am so proud to achieve, yes, that is in spite of all the puberty/ hormone related issues I have been dealing with.  My pride and happiness was infectious, the soon-to-be teenager seemed to be a tiny winy shy about his coming of age.

Who would have known the milestone I was about to hit also come with a string of unpleasant (a mild word to use, but I will keep it at that for now) baggages.  Ok, honestly, I know the full package, I just didn't expect the downside of having a pre-adolescent in the family would make a premature arrival.  A way too early premature arrival.

It happened yesterday.  6pm to be exact. I was finished with cutting the turkey breast and ready to pan fry the meat and it happened.  It is difficult for me to write about this.  I want very much to forget this skin-crawling, sick to the stomach, awful experience.  But at the same time, I feel it would help pull me out of this traumatic shit I had been drowning in for the last 28 hours.

Let me start from the very beginning.  7am yesterday.  I had asked the twins to go to the school's secretary to pick up a form for the application of student concession pass so they would get a discounted rate from the public transport company.  Bart's pass was done by his father two years ago and it is valid through 2015.  We want to do the same for the twins but haven't gotten to do it before the start of their school year.  Better late than never, but the twins either cannot remember what the form is called or not interested to find out, so their reply to me when I reminded them to pick up the form was, "but I don't know what it's called".  I wasn't pleased at all with their shabby reply.  So told them they could describe what they need to the secretary and she would know what to give them.  It's as simple as that, but of course they didn't want to make it simple, but put up with excuses and resistance.  To make things easier and simpler, and to contain what little patience I had or lack of, I asked Bart to go with them to the secretary.  First mistake.  Of course he didn't want to.  Why should he?  (On hindsight, indeed, why should he?  It was not an uphill task for the twins, so there really wasn't any valid reason they required his presence for the forms).  He asked why, I said please help them out.  He said no, his job is to take them to the central train station to submit the forms and collect their passes, as assigned by their father.  The job scope did not include picking up the forms (or helping his brothers out in getting them).  

I didn't take his unhelpfulness well.  I wished aloud that he could be a little helpful, even when it wasn't his responsibility.  It would make things better.  But no.  He didn't want to and would not budge.  He left for school soon after that.  It was not hostile, but unpleasant.  

Feeling helpless and fuming inside, I turned to the twins and repeated what they could say to the secretary and ordered that they bring back the forms that day (which they did). 

I was disappointed with Bart's reluctance to help his brothers.  This isn't new, but it affects and saddens me every time.  Am I expecting a lot more from him than his younger siblings?  Maybe.  I can't be that certain.  I had to walk off my anger after sending Johann to school.  The walk didn't help, I came home looking stoic but beneath that, the total opposite.

After a shower, I decided to get out of the house for some fresh air and do a bit of grocery shopping.  I didn't have much time till Johann's pick up time at 12.20pm, when I reached home, I only had time to drop the shopping bags at the entrance area before I made another run (not literally) to school.  By the time we were home, we only had 20 minutes left for Johann to eat his lunch.  His one-hour music class starts at 1.15pm in school.

I woke up tired in the morning, I did not feel rested even though I tried to lay in bed early (9pm+) the night before.  I couldn't fall asleep until 11pm+.  I knew if I went home after walking him to music class, I would be too tired to drag my body out of the house again to fetch him (horrible, horrible feeling... Where is all the energy when I need it?), so I decided to walk around the neighbourhood in that one hour.  Halfway through, I dropped by Edeka to buy a bottle of maple syrup.  While paying, my phone rang.  It was Bart.  He forgot his keys.  I had to get home to open the door for him.

The moment I sat on the sofa, I knew I was not going to make it.  I asked Bart if he could fetch Johann for me.  "Am I allowed to pick him up?  Why must I fetch him?".  Any idiot could tell it is difficult to ask favors from him.  "Because I am very, very, very tired.  I have been to school 3 times today already and I had been to the shops to buy food, so it would be nice if you helped me."

He did go without putting up much of a fight, but I have seen a more willing Bart before.

When they returned, I told Johann to eat the rest of his lunch which he couldn't finish earlier.  Bart asked if he could read some news online on his notebook, I said sure, and thanked him for helping me fetch his youngest brother.  After Johann finished his remaining lunch, I wanted him to start doing his homework.  I am usually the one supervising him, sometimes sitting next to him, sometimes while doing chores or preparing to cook.  When I need help, I would ask Enzian or Ludwig, who are very cooperative and kind (towards both Johann and I), compared to Bart, who comes home early 4 days a week as opposed to his brothers' once a week.  Even though they don't have as much free time at home on school days, they are always glad to be helping.  They would explain with patience, drawing on their past experience and simplify things for Johann to understand quickly.  In short, they are wonderful little helpers.  Because of this, I tend to ask them rather than Bart.

However, Bart was the only one at home and I seriously needed to lay horizontal.  It was urgent.  On my way to my room, I asked Bart to help Johann out with his homework, suggesting that he could bring his notebook out and sit next to Johann so he could read his news and Johann could ask him whenever he has a question.  If things worked out according to this simple arrangement, I wouldn't be writing this now.

Throughout the one hour (or less, I do not know anymore) of "nap", I was woken up six frikking times.  Each time, heart beating double its normal rate (or more), sending me to panic and shock.  I was very determined that I got my rest, I know I would become a monster if I didn't get it.  Therefore, I went back to sleep after each interruption.  I tried.  It was futile.  

It was the combination of Johann not "having the mood" to do his homework and Bart's reluctance to help him (he also didn't heed my advice to sit with Johann) that caused the bouts of shouting and crying that woke me up time after time.

After the sixth time, I couldn't bear to give anymore stress to my weakening heart which I strongly suspect it would develop into a heart attack if I continued to try to sleep.  The monster awoke.  Blasting angry words at Bart for his lack of understanding and cooperation.  He defended himself.  He had given tips to Johann on how to get his homework done a few times but it didn't work.  He wanted to go back to reading his news (to finish reading that article) but was constantly interrupted by the same question from his brother.  He was losing his patience, which he didn't have a lot to spare from the very beginning.  All things went wrong.  Words that were angry and hurtful blurted out from the monster's mouth.  

"You are so useless!  You can't even perform a small task with your brother's homework!"
"Why don't you starting searching for a room right now on your notebook so you don't live here anymore!"
"I don't want you here, what is the point of you living here like a hotel guest and no one could ask you for little favors?!"

Looking back, even though Bart did defend himself, he still did a few things like clearing the washing machine, keeping the snow trousers and taking things up from the basement for me... all of which happened alongside the scoldings.  He did them all without uttering a word.

After he brought all the things I needed for the kitchen from the basement, while I continued my rants, I didn't realize that he was putting on his jacket and getting ready to leave...

Writing this is far more difficult than when I just started the entry.  I see a mother who has lost her sanity.  I see she is totally insensitive towards the feelings of her adolescent.  I can so clearly see the mistakes.  Her mistakes.  For which, she couldn't see before, her ignorance fully charged by her rage, her sensibility completely unplugged by her meltdown of the moment. 

I hereby officially declare that I am so very ashamed of myself.  My inability to assert more self-control.  I feel like a failure, a mother who has failed.  

Back to the story (how I'd wish this was just a story!), when I saw him putting on his shoes, I panicked.  I didn't not let it show though.  I asked him to surrender his hand phone.  He said it is already at the charger.  No, he was not planning to take it with him.  The message was strong and clear - he wanted no more contact.  I told him to surrender his bus pass.  He dug into his pocket handed to me.  Second deafening message - he wanted to go far far away, away from us, away from me.  I asked for his keys next.  He said he didn't have it.  Last stab-in-my heart message - no, he wasn't planning to return.

He had no money with him.  He had no bags either.  All he had with his mini Swiss knife that has a tiny LED torchlight.  I supposed that would help him in the dark.  I didn't take that away from him.  He closed the door behind him.  I opened the door.

"Do you really want to go?"

"You don't want me right?  So I go."

"I want you, but I don't want your attitude."

"I didn't do anything wrong."

"Then there is nothing I can say."

I watched him disappear from my sight.  I let him disappear out of my sight.  I went back to cooking. I can't believe I did that.  I asked Enzian to chase after him to bring him this message, "come back and we can talk about it".  Enzian did not even put on his jacket and rushed out in Ludwig's shoes.  That tells a lot.  He came back without Bart.   

It must have been a good 20 minutes that I was standing in the kitchen, before I decided to go look for him.  Enzian told me the direction Bart was heading.  So that was where I would start.  I gave Enzian, the Beta, a set of instructions to follow at home, to take charge at home, basically.  He sent me out with a worried look but assured me all will be taken care of.  

I made sure I wrapped myself up properly, the temperature after the sun set can be inhuman.  My mind was flying in all sorts of directions - what if I can't find him?  Should I call his grandparents now to tell them?  Is he cold?  What if crooks approach him, offering him food and shelter on the pretext of something unthinkable?  Should I call my neighbours to look after my three at home?  Should I ask them to drive so it would be easier to locate Bart? 

When I closed the gate, I saw him crossing the junction of our street.  Thank god for that!  I quickened my pace so that I don't lose sight of him.  I called out to him but he walked on, despite my callings.  I decided to just follow him.  While doing so, I made a call home to update Enzian I had located Bart so they didn't have to worry, but told them it would still take some time before we come back as I wanted to follow him.  My pace slowed down while I made the phone call, I realized only after I hung up.  As I picked up my pace to make up for the widened distance, Bart, who was about 100 meters ahead started running!  I yelled at him but he ran further, faster.  I had to give chase!

I didn't know how far exactly we ran, 150 meters or so, there was another junction.  When I finally got to that point, I had no idea whether he went straight or turned left.  Oh my god, I had lost him!  It must have been my adrenaline rush that kicked in that heightened all my senses because out of a sudden, I swear I was able to see farther, see clearer.  My ears were picking sounds I normally couldn't hear.  Like a captain of a ship, I put my hand across my forehead as if it would help me locate him.  It did.  He turned left and he had slowed down to a walk.  An aimless walk, his head down.  It was a heart wrenching sight. 

I closed up the distance and finally I was right behind him.  

"Why are you following me?  You don't want me, why are you following me?"

"I want you, I just don't like your attitude.  Where do you plan to go?"

"You don't care so why ask?"

"Then I am just going to follow up."

"You already said you don't want me, so you should just go home.  Why are you following me?"

"Because after all, you are still my son and I love you."

His hand went up to wipe his eyes.

I must have walked at least an hour behind him, the only sound we heard were our shoes crushing the snow on the ground.  No more exchange of words.  

My phone rang.  It was Enzian.  He wanted to know when we will be home.  I didn't know.  I said soon.

Bart turned around and walked the same way back.  I had no idea what he had in mind, until when we turned into our street, he stopped at our gate.

"You can go home now."

"And you?"

"I'm not."

"Then I will just follow you."

And the "I don't want you" exchange repeated itself here.  I thought I had a glimpse of hope that he would feel tired and hungry enough to want to go home.  But no.  He went on.  So I simply followed suit.

Another 10 minutes passed.  

"Bart, it's enough!  You go home now!"

"No!"

I have never seen a more determined look from him.  He was serious.  He. Really. Did. Not. Want. To. Go. Home.  It didn't matter to him where, how, what he ended up in/with.  He just didn't want to go home.

"Then I have no choice but to call your daddy."

I was hoping so hard you don't believe that I could get a connection to him.  He is in China and it was 2am his time.  The best is he would sometimes switch his phone to silent mode.  The last thing on my mind was how much the phone bill was going to cost.  I was at my wit's end.  I had to had Bart home.  His brothers were waiting anxiously.  And I, despite still being angry with him, wanted him home safe.  

The phone got through!  

After some massive persuasion mixed with authority from his father, he agreed very reluctantly to go home to continue the discussion online.  Bart even stated clearly that after the discussion, he would still take off, regardless what the outcome might be.  It didn't matter to me.  The point was, he was going home.  Whatever that was going to happen afterwards, I would be able to make preparations to avoid him leaving the house.  

He went straight to his room.  He did not immediately write to his father.  Christophe wanted him to type down what happened, as it would give him (Bart) time to process the whole situation.  But it was extremely tough for Christophe, who just arrived in China, who was on the plane literally for two days (Munich - KL - PRC).  The flight exhausted him out, much less the untimely hour.  He also had a meeting schedule in a couple of hours.  I felt like shit.

Bart felt he was unfairly treated.  He did what he could with Johann, but Johann did not cooperate.  He wanted to finish reading that piece of news article about how the weather is going to affect Munich.  He felt I was hard on him.  He was hurt by the words I had used on him.  USELESS, LEAVE THIS HOUSE stuck up like a sore thumb.  He was angry with Johann.  He was angry with me.  

After what seemed like a long time, he finally showed signs of calming down.  It was time for me to re-enter the scene.  We had a long talk.  It was too important to postpone it despite being past his bed time.  

He had his turn, I had mine.  We needed to understand where we were coming from, and I asked him what he would have done differently next time.  We discussed possible ways, like instead of making Johann do his homework immediately, I could have given him up to an hour of playtime or TV time while I rested.  And Bart would also have been able to finish reading his news online.  This way, everybody would be happy and things would most probably not turn out that way.  I told him I cannot not ask him for his help when it comes to helping Johann.  It would be unfair to his brothers and if he were them, he also wouldn't have liked that.  He would be the first to protest.  I had his understanding that he would have to be a contributor to the family, no special privileges will be given.  I did not want him to think that his running away could earn him exemption of responsibilities at home.  

I also explained to him when I said "useless", I meant that I can't use him in ways that he could be used for.  In this case, to use him to help Johann.  I did not mean it literally.  It helped that this was clarified because he took this to heart so badly.  Meantime, I will ban this word out of my dictionary, alongside with "embarrassment".  

I wanted this experience to count.  It would be dumb to just chuck it aside and not tag  any invaluable lessons to it.  Besides, I now believe that I am the one who is mainly responsible for his running away.  Trust me when I say I have been doing a loadful of self-reflection.  

Therefore, it is now apparent to me that I am the one who has benefitted most from this episode than the star of the story.  

I ended our talk with this, "Bart, when you get good grades or have great achievements in school or in your life, I don't love you more.  But when you fail or do badly as a person, I don't love you less.  I love you for who you are." 

After washing up, I went to his room to kiss him good night.  He already had a smile on his face.  "Bart, I am sorry for all my angry words.". "I am sorry too for my angry words, mummy."

It hasn't been a great week to my heart.  It certainly is a great leap in life lesson for me.  A great parenting lesson.  A re-look at how I should modify my approach to a child who has reached puberty, head on.