Junior Mints and Idle Chit Chat

I’ve been kind of quiet lately as I have been trying to practice not thinking too much and focusing on work. I feel in many ways I’m back to myself again. I started going back to the gym daily, I’m setting my goals for flying, shopping for planes, studying for tests, and kicking ass at work. I even kick started a 501(c)3 charity where we give scholarships to female aviators; FINALLY, I have purpose in my life!

I’ve made moves to invest in myself and set myself up to be independently wealthy now that I have capital. Things have been really great!

Then Hurricane Alexis showed up. Oh, the Clown Car that is Alexis: you never know what else is going to come out of it.

Said Clown Car: is it enmeshment? Is it denial? Is it projection? Is it ice cream? Who knows!

I was walking through the store, when I decided to get myself something sweet (I’ve been actually trying to gain weight for once in my life as I had stopped eating throughout this whole fiasco). I went to grab some Reeses when the familiar white box of Junior Mints caught my eye. A smile grew on my face… it wasn’t that long ago where I’d sneak a box of these in my grocery cart for a 12 year old boy who loved to eat them. I settled on Milk Duds, another one of his favorites, and went on my way.

I just did that aerobatic flight with Chuck Coleman and had some sick video of me doing rolls and loops. I hadn’t talked to “W” (her youngest son, the one I practically spent 24/7 with) since I had left Camarillo save for one video of some airplanes down the runway. So I sent him my aerobatics video only for me to realize it was blocked. My heart sank. I guess I half expected this to happen, and I had already made an effort to NOT reach out as to honor some unspoken boundaries but still… it hurt.

Before I left Camarillo, “W” asked me where I would go and was worried about me. He cared deeply for me as we were buddies. I told him that I loved him and his mom very much, that I am just sad because I will miss them both, and that I was ALWAYS be one call or text away. I told him I’d collect postcards from the places I’d go so he knew where he could go explore when he got older. “You have to come to Louisiana and have real Canes!” he told me, in which I promised him I would.

I keep my promises. I wish that boy knew that I kept them. I’m so worried he hates me now.

I collected several postcards and sent them his way. I wrote him a heart felt letter telling him that his best qualities were that he was caring and curious. In that letter I told him that I never knew I had the capacity to love someone else’s child. I asked her to give it to him when I left; she never did. It got boxed up in their move, which to me is bullshit.

“It will just confuse him,” she tells me, to which I partially agree but I don’t. My absence will confuse him even more. Bonds were made… promises were made… I would think it would confuse him more to have the one constant adult in his life in 2020 suddenly disappear.

I was nervous to meet “W” when we first started dating, simply for the fact that he didn’t take his parents divorce well. I wanted to make sure that I didn’t take away his mom, but formed a relationship with him. She had already briefed me on him before we met: loves rockets, science, guns, legos, etc. I asked her if he takes apart his controllers and puts them back together “Oh my god, yes! How did you know?” I knew because I was the same way when I was a kid. I knew what kind of mind he had. We’re kindred spirits.

He started to figure out that she and I were dating when she was always calling or FaceTiming me. One day, while they were in Oregon, they went to go look at the stars. He asked her to ask me what my favorite planet was.

“Saturn,” I told him.

“Cool… I knew you’d say that. Mine is Jupiter.”

The day I actually met him in person we did so at a friends house. I promised myself I would make time to do something fun with him, just he and I, so we could form our own bond. He sat in the living room, quietly racking his airsoft gun (which I KNOW sounds like a giant red flag, but that’s his nervous habit. He racks his gun, plays with his fake butterfly knife, or does whatever repetitive task he could do). He is highly intelligent, all boy, very sensitive, and very anti drugs and alcohol. Almost to the point where it’s hilarious, but also sometimes annoying as he judges you for having a glass of wine. TOTAL goodie two shoes… He even rats himself out for things out of pure guilt. He has a strong moral compass.

You know where I’ve seen him before though? In every engineer I ever worked with throughout my whole career. He’s my kind of people. I took him out in my Mustang to get frozen yogurt in which we both acted like unsupervised children as we threw all the toppings we could into our bowls. It’s important to have these moments as a step parent. You have to have your own relationship with them, not just one that is connected to their biological parent… and I did. Throughout the time I spent with “W” he and I had our own relationship. I treasured it.

“W” has a very particular set of things he’ll eat; which makes him more endearing. He likes chicken nuggets, peanut butter sandwiches, cheese-its, french fries, granola bars, goldfish (which are just fish shaped cheese-its), anything sweet, green beans, Spaghetti-O’s, etc. I laugh as I type this because looking back on it I find it to be so… I don’t know… it just makes him that more interesting. He has always been this way his whole life. It’s a texture and familiarity thing… maybe he’s just a man of simple tastes. He loves Junior Mints… which is odd to me because mint candy is gross. I’d get so annoyed when he’d ask me for candy every single time I went to the store, but more often than not I’d sneak a pack of Junior Mints or peanut butter balls into my basket for the days when he was working hard at school (or just generally being a good boy).

When all three of us went down to Camarillo to look at what our eventual home would be, we swung by the “pirate ship” beach and went boogie boarding. “Linna!” he knows me by my real name, “Are you going to come out?” He kept persisting that I go out and play with him. I was torn because I wanted to be with his mom on the beach, but at the same time I made a promise that I’d play. After I had lost 110lbs, I had lost ALL of my cold tolerance and am now negative buoyant. Playing in the ocean is extremely painful for me without a wetsuit. Nevertheless, I played as promised. We got home and I stayed the night in the room where they both slept. Just all three of us, lulling ourselves to sleep with rain sounds on our phone (a habit that I have now picked up from them). It felt natural. It felt right.

All three of us moved in together along with my two dogs. The pandemic made it difficult as “W” and I were constantly working from home while his mom worked 12’s at the hospital. He could hover a lot. He’s an extrovert, and I was his only friend to talk to as he wasn’t physically in school to make new friends.

I taught him to box. I taught him to build a fire. I took him to almost all of his swim lessons at the YMCA.

I’d take him to jiu jitsu even though he really wasn’t any good at it at all. He had the grace of a new born giraffe but he’s also 12 and figuring it all out. Despite this, he persisted. He loved it even though he wasn’t great at it. Every session of jiu jitsu I took him to was wasted training for me at first glance (but deep down, it was teaching me other lessons), but it was not wasted memories with us. There he got exposure to strong male role models in my friends Kelly, Rob, Tony, Oscar, and Professor Beto.

As time went on, he and I spent almost every waking moment together. I did all the mom things I never thought I’d be doing: I took him to get braces, I went to his cognitive behavioral therapy and ran his plan, took him to swim every day, took him clothes shopping, packed his lunch, treated his tummy aches/tucked him in when his mom worked nights, and helped him with his math homework.

Every night he would read to me his motivational story. The first time he ever read it to me I staved off tears. It became our nightly mantra… so much so that I can still hear it in my head: “My name is W, I am 12 years old, I have had some medical and anxiety problems in the past but they do not define who I am….” it went on for a page and a half reminding him that he has the power to change himself. Before I left Camarillo, I updated it, reflecting his progress.

I was there for so many important things too: I carved pumpkins with him. I walked him by myself while he went trick-or-treating. I got him a PS4 so long as he kept his grades up (which he asked if I wanted it back and I told him no, that it was a deal that we had and he gets to keep it). I invited his dad over for a second Thanksgiving dinner (even though the man talked shit about me and acted like psycho to his mom and generally hates me) because it meant that much to “W.” I bought his Christmas presents, taught him to cook chili, and helped him make cookies (while his dad got him nothing for Christmas… not even quality time). I bought him a fish on a whim, because we figured it would be a good source of responsibility for him. I taught him to take care of it. When we brought it home for him as a surprise you would have thought that we got him the best thing in the entire world. He was FLOORED to have a fish. Titan the fish was his baby, and he tucked it in and night and made sure he fed it. When he went on vacation, he’d text me every night “did you feed Titan? Make sure his light is on at night… he loves to sleep like that.” It was endearing.

We would talk about so many things. Russia… cyber security… video games… space… rockets… lots of idle chit chat.

There were the emotional times too. W could get very emotional (it’s his best quality to be honest) and would use me as a conduit between him and his mom when they were at odds. I’d talk him through his emotions, and actively listen to what were his worries. I wouldn’t dismiss them, but I’d listen. You could tell that this is all he needed… was someone to listen.

There were lots of hard conversations. Like the time he was worried his dad was drinking again. “He isn’t drinking… he quit for me,” when in fact his dad had just downed an entire bottle of whiskey in front of us weeks prior and had been sending harassing texts to his mom. That was the HARDEST conversation ever; I had to go for a walk later to collect myself because I had to bold face lie to a kid that his dad was ok. I distinctly remember having a conversation in my bathroom when W asked us why his dad never comes and sees him. His mom looked at me, not sure of what to say, when I explained to him that his heart is just hurt and seeing him just reminds him of the hurt… but that one day when he’s doing better he’ll be back around; that he loved him very much. This, of course, is NOT what I think… but I would never intentionally slander a boy’s father to him.

I would get frustrated with him, for sure. He has OCD/anxiety so he tends to hyper focus on something he can’t control (like he kept checking the mail box every 10 minutes for a toy once). Once he got really impatient with a DNA testing kit and I had to throw the hammer down, which is something I only had to do twice. Sometimes he and I would have such intelligent conversations that I often forgot he was 12 until he had these little moments. He could drive us both up the wall with his anxiety… for example, he says goodnight at least 3-6 times A NIGHT. We were working on that one to try and figure out why he gets more anxious at night.

I don’t say these things to keep score, but rather to illustrate that these things are far more important to me than my achievements and accolades.

He’s a beautiful boy… truly. She had once sent me a video of him playing in the ocean; he bent down messed with a sea anemone and laughed the biggest, boyish laugh at how it reacted. I’d watch that video from time to time when he frustrated me with his anxiety to remind myself that deep down he’s just a boy.

But I’m not owed a space in that kids life. You think I would be after the bonds we made, and the fact that I was the most constant adult presence in his life last year but that’s how fucked up and unfair life is.
I feel kind of dumb, if I’m being honest. My first episode of this blog was all about how we loved each other so much, but then I found out she was going back to that man. She keeps constantly hurting me with her deception, whether she’s aware of it or not. I’m not even mad anymore, nor surprised. Disappointed most definitely. I’ve just accepted that people are just flawed and hurtful to protect their own self interest. I mourn not only the loss of her, but the loss of the family I loved.

I digress… THOSE are the times where I am at my best, not my degrees or money or pilots license. Those are the moments you all will never see. I was my very best version of myself over Junior Mints and idle chit chat.