I don't think I'm a bad person. I don't even think I was a bad teenager. I was not a great student, but I didn't fail classes (well, except German III, and that college computer class). I was social, but didn't go to parties where there was drinking (during high school). I did what my parents asked, followed the rules (except when I would come home a few minutes after curfew), kept my room clean. I was a good teenager.
OK, I was a good teenager physically. Emotionally, I was a moody teenager. Do I even need to say "moody teenager"? Is the "moody" a given when saying "teenager"? Anyway, I know I was moody. My Mom was probably the biggest target for my moods. Have a bad day at school? Yell at your Mom. Boyfriend trouble? Probably your Mom's fault. Yell at her. Want to hear your own voice, at a loud volume with obnoxious undertones? Try it out on your Mom. Bad hair day? Yell at your Mom...that makes it better.
My #2 child is a 16 yr old girl. She is a good teenager. She follows the rules. Has excellent grades. Social, but not a party-er. Has a job, plus babysits regularly. She is a good kid. She has a beautiful head of thick, wavy hair. She did not get this from me. I have thin, very straight hair. (and every day it gets thinner, so I am quite envious of her hair. But, I digress...).
I had my hair cut a few days ago. #2 went with me (no surprise, she goes everywhere with me, but that is another story...)and I mentioned to the girl who cuts my hair how yucky #2's hair was looking. You see, #2 looks as if she doesn't comb her hair. Ever. It really bothers me. I know if I say something to her that I will sound horrible. I know that if I (her Mom) criticize her hair, that it will in some way scar her. However, IT LOOKS TERRIBLE! Anyway, the girl who cuts my hair pulls out a book and shows #2 a photo. #2 likes the cut, so we make an appointment. That was yesterday at 4:30 pm. I mention the time so you can better appreciate what the last 15 hours have been like.
I think her haircut looks VERY nice. I like it A LOT. #2...not so much. In fact, this is the 3rd haircut she has gotten that she really doesn't like. OK, THAT she DOES get from me. I have a history of crying after my haircuts. I have haircut remorse frequently. I have set a bad example. Now I have bad example remorse. #2 left hair place before I had even paid. This was my clue that she didn't like it. Tears were in full swing by the time I got to car. We got home, she rushed to bathroom to wet hair down. She cried through dinner. She fussed with it and yelled about it and cried about about until she went to bed. I'm surprised she slept without yelling in her sleep.
This morning she came downstairs and she had straightened her hair. The hair that is wavy. The hair that was cut yesterday to be worn wavy. She also had part of it clipped back. It didn't look bad, but it didn't look as nice as her hair did upon leaving hair salon (I know, that's a given). Her comment was "I know you don't like it like this." Great, she wakes up and already feels she has disappointed me. So I say "It's fine." Because it was. Well, except for the long bangs in front of her face. I tried to bite my tongue. I really did. My #2 is a beautiful girl. I want her to feel beautiful. I want others to see her outside beauty. So I ask about the bangs. I should have bit my tongue harder.
Tears, loud voices (It's 6:10 am. I am not a morning person. #4 is still sleeping). She goes in bathroom and comes out saying "Is this better?" It wasn't. Tears, more yelling. I tell her it looks fine if she would tuck back the long piece from her face. She tells me all the things wrong with the haircut, how people are going to make fun of her. How her friends will say it looks nice, then turn away and make faces, talk about it,laugh. I wouldn't be 16 again if you paid me. (I would however pay to have my 16 yr old body back.)
What did I learn today? First, I am not taking #2 for anymore haircuts. This can be her responsibility from now on. Second, I am like my Mother. I understand my Mother. I wasn't criticizing. OK, I was criticizing, but it wasn't to be mean. It was to help #2 be the best she can be. I don't want her to walk around looking yucky. Third, I learned that I owe my Mother an apology. Well, probably LOTS of them, for all the times I yelled at her when I just needed to vent. For being angry at her for criticizing when she was just trying to help me be the best I can be. Mostly I WANT to apologize. I figure it is like a selfish "pay it forward" type thing. I figure if I apologize now to my Mom for being a moody teenager, that in 26 years, I'll get an apology from #2.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
I agree with Brad Paisley
Have you ever heard Brad Paisley sing "So Much Cooler Online"? I can relate to the song. I "talk" to several "friends" online. They are people I have met at one time or another in my life. Or people I haven't met but know much about through a mutual friend. Most of the people I chat with I haven't seen in 25 years! I have changed lots in 25 years. My weight is different. I am not as self conscious as I used to be (Well, except for the weight. And my personality. Maybe strike the previous statement). I am stronger emotionally. But, I am also not as caring, affectionate and sweet as I once was. But...online, I can be who I want, or who I think I am, as opposed to who I am in my day to day life. It's not like I'm taking on a persona...just going back in time to when I was a simpler person. When I didn't have bills to pay, dishes or laundry to do, kids to manage. Time in many ways has made me a better person. But time has also taken away some of the qualities I like most about myself, which brings me back to the song...online I can be the "old" me (funny 'cause it's really the young me!).
Online, people can't see my now 42 year old body. Perhaps they still picture me with my 18 year old body which unfortunately I didn't realize I had. I didn't appreciate it or use it to my advantage. Online, people see me as fun, caring, happy. AT least that's what I'm hoping. Again, I'm not pretending to be someone else...I AM all those things. But in day to day life, those things get buried under the dishes, laundry, kids, my weight. Online...all that other stuff isn't there.
Last night I was talking to a friend online. Someone I'm not sure I ever had a real conversation with before computers. He is in the process of writing a book about "regular" people and their stories. So we had this talk about how you want your story read and if you are living that life now. I think my life is just happening...I'm not living it, creating it. It was an interesting concept. I think I disappoint people in person that I haven't seen for awhile because so much of my "bubbly" is drained.
I need to merge my old (young)self, my cool, online self, and the current me. I need to create my life story the way I want it to read. That's so much to think about, to consider. What characters do you need to add depth to? Delete? Add? What adventures should you find? How will you handle tragedy?
I plan on trying to live my life as I want my story read. More laughter, less drama. (I must have forgotten I have three teenagers and a preschooler). More playtime, less housework. (Oh, I LIKE that one!) More learning, less worrying. (uh, huh...I said it, less worrying) I plan to revive my bubbly. I don't know HOW I'm going to do all this, but I'm going to try. You don't get a do over to your life story. I'm not liking these middle chapters. Time to shake things up, give the plot a twist.
How do you want your life story to read? What steps are you taking to make it read that way? Are you like me? So much cooler online? I want to be cooler in my day to day life. That sounds like a story I'd like to read.
Online, people can't see my now 42 year old body. Perhaps they still picture me with my 18 year old body which unfortunately I didn't realize I had. I didn't appreciate it or use it to my advantage. Online, people see me as fun, caring, happy. AT least that's what I'm hoping. Again, I'm not pretending to be someone else...I AM all those things. But in day to day life, those things get buried under the dishes, laundry, kids, my weight. Online...all that other stuff isn't there.
Last night I was talking to a friend online. Someone I'm not sure I ever had a real conversation with before computers. He is in the process of writing a book about "regular" people and their stories. So we had this talk about how you want your story read and if you are living that life now. I think my life is just happening...I'm not living it, creating it. It was an interesting concept. I think I disappoint people in person that I haven't seen for awhile because so much of my "bubbly" is drained.
I need to merge my old (young)self, my cool, online self, and the current me. I need to create my life story the way I want it to read. That's so much to think about, to consider. What characters do you need to add depth to? Delete? Add? What adventures should you find? How will you handle tragedy?
I plan on trying to live my life as I want my story read. More laughter, less drama. (I must have forgotten I have three teenagers and a preschooler). More playtime, less housework. (Oh, I LIKE that one!) More learning, less worrying. (uh, huh...I said it, less worrying) I plan to revive my bubbly. I don't know HOW I'm going to do all this, but I'm going to try. You don't get a do over to your life story. I'm not liking these middle chapters. Time to shake things up, give the plot a twist.
How do you want your life story to read? What steps are you taking to make it read that way? Are you like me? So much cooler online? I want to be cooler in my day to day life. That sounds like a story I'd like to read.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Rants in Waves
I have so many things on my mind lately. I had a mammogram yesterday. My 13 yr. old is burning through her cell phone minutes. I drink WAY too much diet coke. My daughter has had a headache and ear ache for nearly 5 weeks. My son graduates from high school in 6 weeks. I want to complete a photo album and a quilt for him before graduation. My son needs to be at college (some 10+ hours away) August 9th. We need to pay for college! My 25th high school class reunion is July 31st. I want to lose weight. I want to exercise. Oh the list goes on. And on. And on. I am tired. I think I am tired from all these thoughts. Maybe being tired is an effective means of procrastinating the above tasks.
Mammograms...I had a "baseline" one when I was 35. I didn't think it was as bad as people made it sound. I had another mammogram at 38. I had found a huge lump. I had an ultrasound then too. It was just a normal thickening due to hormonal changes...it was getting close to my period. Well, so we all thought. Actually, I was pregnant. (SURPRISE!) I have had annual mammograms the last 3 years. Yesterday was the first time I felt discomfort.
Maybe the discomfort was because it was the first time they didn't ask if I had implants. Talk about being humiliated! Thanks so much kids for the wear and tear on my previously perky boobs. So, the mammogram started out on a bummer. Then, the woman wanted my pectoral muscles in the "shot". So, she pulled, and tugged, and yanked. I think she got some back muscle too. Then she lowered the plexiglass and told me to say "when". She was going faster than I could holler. I think the machine begged for mercy at some point and the technician stopped squooshing. Then, you won't believe this...she said "Hold your breathe." If I had been physically able to laugh, I would have! I was not physically able to breathe. I think my lung was in that squoosher machine. So, I complete all 4 views and go back to get dressed. (and put on lotion and deodorant.) My whole chestal region is red and slightly welty. Then the technician says "If you feel discomfort, don't call your doctor. Just take what you would for a headache." So, I took some Tylenol for rest of the day. I was feeling discomfort. Having said that, I wouldn't change anything. Having a mammogram is important. The discomfort is temporary. It could save my life.
Then there's my 13 year old daughter. She is #3 in our family. She got a cell phone for Christmas. This was a really big deal...the other kids had to wait until high school. But #3 is involved in many school activities and we found ourselves waiting around a lot. She got a cell phone for MY convenience...not her enjoyment. I guess I failed to express that to her.
Our kids have Trac-phones. We buy minutes for them that last 90 days at a time. We buy a fair amount of minutes. I know it's a fair amount because in 4 years, child #1 has never run out of minutes. He has come close, but he watches and when necessary monitors them. We are strict about the cell phones. They can't use them at home. If they run out of minutes before the 90 days, they go without, or buy them themselves. But, like I said...in 4 years, this has ever happened. In 4 years, no one has lost a phone (knock on wood!). No one has run out of minutes. But WAIT! Child #3! She burned through her first 90 days of minutes in about 6 weeks. OK, I thought maybe I had done an accounting error. Maybe she misunderstood. So, I put on more minutes. Then I found out she was texting her boyfriend (Oh Lord, that is another story) after bed time which breaks several rules! So, I take the phone away. But, when she has a track meet at another school, I give her the phone. In two weeks...I said in TWO WEEKS, that girl burned through as many minutes as child #1 and child #2 use in 90 days!! Child #3 lost phone privileges until 9th grade. At the earliest. Guess we go back to waiting for her. Or she can wait for us...
All this makes me want a diet coke real bad. Time for a diet coke break. Ahhhhhh. But, that, I think, is a story for another time.
Mammograms...I had a "baseline" one when I was 35. I didn't think it was as bad as people made it sound. I had another mammogram at 38. I had found a huge lump. I had an ultrasound then too. It was just a normal thickening due to hormonal changes...it was getting close to my period. Well, so we all thought. Actually, I was pregnant. (SURPRISE!) I have had annual mammograms the last 3 years. Yesterday was the first time I felt discomfort.
Maybe the discomfort was because it was the first time they didn't ask if I had implants. Talk about being humiliated! Thanks so much kids for the wear and tear on my previously perky boobs. So, the mammogram started out on a bummer. Then, the woman wanted my pectoral muscles in the "shot". So, she pulled, and tugged, and yanked. I think she got some back muscle too. Then she lowered the plexiglass and told me to say "when". She was going faster than I could holler. I think the machine begged for mercy at some point and the technician stopped squooshing. Then, you won't believe this...she said "Hold your breathe." If I had been physically able to laugh, I would have! I was not physically able to breathe. I think my lung was in that squoosher machine. So, I complete all 4 views and go back to get dressed. (and put on lotion and deodorant.) My whole chestal region is red and slightly welty. Then the technician says "If you feel discomfort, don't call your doctor. Just take what you would for a headache." So, I took some Tylenol for rest of the day. I was feeling discomfort. Having said that, I wouldn't change anything. Having a mammogram is important. The discomfort is temporary. It could save my life.
Then there's my 13 year old daughter. She is #3 in our family. She got a cell phone for Christmas. This was a really big deal...the other kids had to wait until high school. But #3 is involved in many school activities and we found ourselves waiting around a lot. She got a cell phone for MY convenience...not her enjoyment. I guess I failed to express that to her.
Our kids have Trac-phones. We buy minutes for them that last 90 days at a time. We buy a fair amount of minutes. I know it's a fair amount because in 4 years, child #1 has never run out of minutes. He has come close, but he watches and when necessary monitors them. We are strict about the cell phones. They can't use them at home. If they run out of minutes before the 90 days, they go without, or buy them themselves. But, like I said...in 4 years, this has ever happened. In 4 years, no one has lost a phone (knock on wood!). No one has run out of minutes. But WAIT! Child #3! She burned through her first 90 days of minutes in about 6 weeks. OK, I thought maybe I had done an accounting error. Maybe she misunderstood. So, I put on more minutes. Then I found out she was texting her boyfriend (Oh Lord, that is another story) after bed time which breaks several rules! So, I take the phone away. But, when she has a track meet at another school, I give her the phone. In two weeks...I said in TWO WEEKS, that girl burned through as many minutes as child #1 and child #2 use in 90 days!! Child #3 lost phone privileges until 9th grade. At the earliest. Guess we go back to waiting for her. Or she can wait for us...
All this makes me want a diet coke real bad. Time for a diet coke break. Ahhhhhh. But, that, I think, is a story for another time.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Ordinary Days
In one of the hundreds of magazines I have piled to read when I have time (ha ha)I found a blurb about a book called "The Gift of an Ordinary Day". Coincidentally, the same week someone sent me a link to a video by the books author reading an excerpt from her book. The premise she has is what I always think about. (By the way, I didn't finish the book. It wasn't what I was hoping for...)
I started thinking about "ordinary days" as I am putting together a photo album for my oldest son. He is graduating from high school in 2 months! Several years ago, my photo album lady had a class about "Windows in Time" and how to create an album that would go from birth through graduation. I have prepared an album for all my kids, but my son's is the first I have started to put photos in. Anyway, it was recommended to get an accordion folder and divide the photos by album page title, so I did. The titles include things like; activities, friends, dances, religion, school, winter holidays, spring, birthdays etc.. So, as I am putting photos in, it strikes me how many photos I have in front of birthday cakes and Christmas trees. Dyeing Easter eggs, and characters at Disneyworld. What don't I have photos of? The very things I will miss the most about being a parent. The things that make a day "ordinary".
I have often thought about having a video camera somewhere to record an ordinary day. The most precious things to me are the morning snuggles, the teeth brushing, the tickle wars. The bedtime stories, the little, innocent faces when they are finally asleep. Eating dinner together at the table, swinging on the swings, playing Candyland. These are the things I will miss the most when my kids are grown. They are the things I have no photos of. It is interesting that what is the most dear to our day, we choose not to photograph. Or, perhaps we are having so much fun enjoying these things that it is foolish to stop doing them simply to pose for a picture.
So, I see the authors title painfully true. The true gifts can't be unwrapped on birthdays or Christmas or even "just because". The true gifts of parenting are the wonders and joys and even the tears of an ordinary day.
I started thinking about "ordinary days" as I am putting together a photo album for my oldest son. He is graduating from high school in 2 months! Several years ago, my photo album lady had a class about "Windows in Time" and how to create an album that would go from birth through graduation. I have prepared an album for all my kids, but my son's is the first I have started to put photos in. Anyway, it was recommended to get an accordion folder and divide the photos by album page title, so I did. The titles include things like; activities, friends, dances, religion, school, winter holidays, spring, birthdays etc.. So, as I am putting photos in, it strikes me how many photos I have in front of birthday cakes and Christmas trees. Dyeing Easter eggs, and characters at Disneyworld. What don't I have photos of? The very things I will miss the most about being a parent. The things that make a day "ordinary".
I have often thought about having a video camera somewhere to record an ordinary day. The most precious things to me are the morning snuggles, the teeth brushing, the tickle wars. The bedtime stories, the little, innocent faces when they are finally asleep. Eating dinner together at the table, swinging on the swings, playing Candyland. These are the things I will miss the most when my kids are grown. They are the things I have no photos of. It is interesting that what is the most dear to our day, we choose not to photograph. Or, perhaps we are having so much fun enjoying these things that it is foolish to stop doing them simply to pose for a picture.
So, I see the authors title painfully true. The true gifts can't be unwrapped on birthdays or Christmas or even "just because". The true gifts of parenting are the wonders and joys and even the tears of an ordinary day.
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Control Freak or Just Plain Nuts?
I am a control freak. I admit it. I like things done MY way. I don't mean I control people and their behavior. But I do like to control the way the house runs, how it looks, how it's cleaned. I am definitely a freak about it, perhaps even nutty. People always say I should have my kids help wash dishes, clean bathrooms, do the laundry. WHAT?? Are they crazy?? Nobody will do it like I do. If it's not done MY way, won't the world as I know it end?? So, I stress myself out weekly, trying to get it all done, MY way. No help.
So, here is the trouble with MY way... first of all, I am not teaching my kids anything. #1 is getting ready to go to college. He has never washed the dishes (Unloaded dishwasher, yes. Loaded, no. Hand washed dishes, no), he has never cleaned a bathroom, never done laundry. My cleaning control issues are stunting my kids ability to be self sufficient. I have failed at this.
The other problem is that my way means starting in one corner of a room, touching every object, dusting/cleaning it. Opening each cabinet and drawer, reorganizing it. Dusting/cleaning each surface. It takes me too much time and is unnecessary. I end up each week with stuff we no longer need or use or I changed my mind. This pile goes to the basement. I don't always have the time, or make the time to do this type of housework each week. Then I stress that I didn't get it done. The really bad thing is that if I don't have time to clean this way, I don't clean at all. Ok, wait, my house is not dirty. It is a clean house and tidy too. When I say I don't clean at all, I mean MY way of cleaning which I think I have established is NUTTY!! The bottom line is that my basement is overflowing with stuff that needs to be sorted, but by the time I get through the rest of the house, I don't have the energy to get to the basement. Seriously, I have issues.
The reason I am writing about my messed up sense of cleaning is this...I have 3 teenagers. They need to learn to clean a house, take care of it. The basics, not the crazy Mom way. Also, because they are teenagers, they no longer want me cleaning their rooms. I am allowed to go in to change sheets and I'll vacuum if I can see the floor, but that is it. Kids #2 and 3 are girls. When I ask them to pick up their rooms or I'll do it, they throw everything in their closet and dust. OK, whatever, it looks better. #1 is a boy. When I ask him to pick up his room he tells me it's fine. This past Saturday he was gone all weekend. The dust in his room was starting to look like fur. The floor hadn't been vacuumed for awhile. To some people, maybe this is no big deal. To a control freak cleaner like me it was making my trigger finger VERY itchy. The time had come, I was going in. I cranked up some music, put a smile on my face and dug in. Now, I did have a voice in my head saying "He's going to be mad." I justified it by saying "I was helping him". I moved some furniture to make the room easier to maneuver around. I dusted, I folded all the clothes and put them back in the dresser. I didn't throw away anything aside from candy and granola bar wrappers (So THIS is where they all go!) I piled papers and magazines and books. I was NOT nosy, I folded and stacked and dusted and vacuumed. The room looked so much better. I was satisfied. Then HE came home.
The voice in my head was wrong. He wasn't mad. He was LIVID! He said he felt violated. I understood that. I couldn't get him to see that the furry dust was no longer ignorable. I did what any good Mom would do and intervene. Lots of words were exchanged. Things were said. It's a blur. I was wrong, I see that. It is his room, but it is also my house. I can't handle furry dust. The last thing he said was something like "I need to get away (or grow away) from you sometime." Well, that stung. Bad. I am not ready for this. I'm not ready for him to leave. In hind sight, my cleaning sneak attack was possibly a way to stay connected to my "no longer my baby" boy. My days of doing things like this for him are numbered. It makes me sad.
While still feeling the sting of his words, I walked out of his room, I might have slammed his door. I walked down the stairs, put on my coat and boots and announced I was going for a walk. My feelings were so hurt. I set myself up for the hurt.
I don't normally leave like this. I just couldn't breathe. I needed to escape. As I walked I decided life was messy and I had just run out of Bounty. In my head I bought some more Bounty (and Ben and Jerry's for good measure) and returned home.I needed to clean up my mess. Not the housework mess (seriously, his room looked great!) but the emotional mess. I decided that life is not only messy, but it hurts sometimes too. It's like Garth Brooks sings "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." And I do love dancing.
So, here is the trouble with MY way... first of all, I am not teaching my kids anything. #1 is getting ready to go to college. He has never washed the dishes (Unloaded dishwasher, yes. Loaded, no. Hand washed dishes, no), he has never cleaned a bathroom, never done laundry. My cleaning control issues are stunting my kids ability to be self sufficient. I have failed at this.
The other problem is that my way means starting in one corner of a room, touching every object, dusting/cleaning it. Opening each cabinet and drawer, reorganizing it. Dusting/cleaning each surface. It takes me too much time and is unnecessary. I end up each week with stuff we no longer need or use or I changed my mind. This pile goes to the basement. I don't always have the time, or make the time to do this type of housework each week. Then I stress that I didn't get it done. The really bad thing is that if I don't have time to clean this way, I don't clean at all. Ok, wait, my house is not dirty. It is a clean house and tidy too. When I say I don't clean at all, I mean MY way of cleaning which I think I have established is NUTTY!! The bottom line is that my basement is overflowing with stuff that needs to be sorted, but by the time I get through the rest of the house, I don't have the energy to get to the basement. Seriously, I have issues.
The reason I am writing about my messed up sense of cleaning is this...I have 3 teenagers. They need to learn to clean a house, take care of it. The basics, not the crazy Mom way. Also, because they are teenagers, they no longer want me cleaning their rooms. I am allowed to go in to change sheets and I'll vacuum if I can see the floor, but that is it. Kids #2 and 3 are girls. When I ask them to pick up their rooms or I'll do it, they throw everything in their closet and dust. OK, whatever, it looks better. #1 is a boy. When I ask him to pick up his room he tells me it's fine. This past Saturday he was gone all weekend. The dust in his room was starting to look like fur. The floor hadn't been vacuumed for awhile. To some people, maybe this is no big deal. To a control freak cleaner like me it was making my trigger finger VERY itchy. The time had come, I was going in. I cranked up some music, put a smile on my face and dug in. Now, I did have a voice in my head saying "He's going to be mad." I justified it by saying "I was helping him". I moved some furniture to make the room easier to maneuver around. I dusted, I folded all the clothes and put them back in the dresser. I didn't throw away anything aside from candy and granola bar wrappers (So THIS is where they all go!) I piled papers and magazines and books. I was NOT nosy, I folded and stacked and dusted and vacuumed. The room looked so much better. I was satisfied. Then HE came home.
The voice in my head was wrong. He wasn't mad. He was LIVID! He said he felt violated. I understood that. I couldn't get him to see that the furry dust was no longer ignorable. I did what any good Mom would do and intervene. Lots of words were exchanged. Things were said. It's a blur. I was wrong, I see that. It is his room, but it is also my house. I can't handle furry dust. The last thing he said was something like "I need to get away (or grow away) from you sometime." Well, that stung. Bad. I am not ready for this. I'm not ready for him to leave. In hind sight, my cleaning sneak attack was possibly a way to stay connected to my "no longer my baby" boy. My days of doing things like this for him are numbered. It makes me sad.
While still feeling the sting of his words, I walked out of his room, I might have slammed his door. I walked down the stairs, put on my coat and boots and announced I was going for a walk. My feelings were so hurt. I set myself up for the hurt.
I don't normally leave like this. I just couldn't breathe. I needed to escape. As I walked I decided life was messy and I had just run out of Bounty. In my head I bought some more Bounty (and Ben and Jerry's for good measure) and returned home.I needed to clean up my mess. Not the housework mess (seriously, his room looked great!) but the emotional mess. I decided that life is not only messy, but it hurts sometimes too. It's like Garth Brooks sings "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance." And I do love dancing.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Hard to Believe
I woke up yesterday morning with SO much energy. It's very unusual for me. The house was quiet, so I painted my nails, shaved my legs, ironed a bit, tidied up the house. Around 11 a.m. a friend from high school called. We hadn't talked for awhile, so it was good to hear from her. We talked for about 3 hours! When I hung up the phone I felt a strange twinge in my stomach. Oh, I should mention I am 39 weeks pregnant. My due date is 4 days away.
By 3 p.m., the twinges were occurring every 20 minutes. This was my first pregnancy. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do. I ate a light dinner. My husband went to bed at 10 p.m. At 11 p.m., I decided to try to sleep. The problem was that in the dark and silence of night, the twinges felt stronger. I was starting to get a bit nervous. Maybe even scared. At 11:30 p.m., I called my Dr. He said to wait until contractions were closer together. Well, I decided to take a shower. Then I packed my bags. Then I woke up my husband. We went to the hospital. I asked them to either send me home, or admit me. I didn't want to be there for hours, then dismissed. I had heard several women from Lamaze class talk about that. I didn't want that to happen to me. By 1 a.m., I was admitted.
I had an excellent student nurse, Jeanne. She kept me full of ice chips. I had an epidural. After 22 hours of "twinges", I finally was pushing out this person (we didn't know yet if it was a boy or girl) into my life. I was moments away from meeting the person who would make me a Mom. Twenty minutes later, I said "Hi D.J.". Mind you, his cord was not cut yet. I'm not even sure his feet were out yet. What struck me at that moment was a huge wave of exhaustion, a desperate need for a Diet Coke, and overwhelming joy. I sobbed. I smiled. I laughed. I was ready to do it over again. It was incredible. The next thing that struck me was I just called my son (doesn't that sound good? "my son") "D.J." I had wanted to name a boy "Garth". We had talked about POSSIBLY naming a boy after my husband and father-in-law, and calling him D.J. I was still leaning towards Garth. I was so surprised that I called him D.J., but it stuck. He was my D.J. He was my son.
We spent two nights in the hospital. I was over joyed. I can't remember a time I was ever so happy! When we took him home, we changed his diaper. He had been circumcised that morning. He looked sore. I cried. I squeezed some Vaseline on it. My husband took the tube and said "That's not enough" and squeezed a bunch more. Next thing you know, D.J.'s eye lids had pools of pee on them. Oh man did we laugh!
It's hard to believe this was all 18 years ago. Yes, my son, my D.J. turned 18 today.
I have had several hairstyles in eighteen years. My weight has changed. My style of dressing has changed. I have had 7 different jobs, done daycare for over 20 kids, been to Disneyworld twice. I have been to Germany and Paris, France. I've been a Bridesmaid three times. I know that time has passed. But to be the Mother of an 18 yr. old? It is hard to believe.
I have learned the in's and outs of Cub Scouts. I know the name of Pokemon characters. I build a mean Lego car. I have been knee deep in Mighty Beans and G.I.Joes. I have read all the Harry Potter books (over and over and over)and have watched "101 Dalmatians" hundreds of times. We have laughed and cried. O.K., he makes me laugh and cry. He made me a Mom. He has taught me pretty well. I do tend to be a rebellious student though, I often refuse to do the homework. If I do the homework, it means my son will grow more. I want him to stay little.
He has had tubes in his ears for multiple ear infections. He had his wisdom teeth removed. He has had 2 rather nasty broken arms (and 2 not so nasty broken arms too). He has had 3 surgeries on his arm and still needs one more. My son. My son who now is getting ready to graduate from High School. Then he plans on joining the military. It's so hard to believe.
My son, D.J., is smart. He is funny, witty. He is brave, unbelievably brave. He is responsible, well, unless he is swallowing straight pins or trying to light bleach on fire! This day should be all about him, his accomplishments. I keep thinking though about all the things I haven't done for him, with him. Have I done enough? I wanted to bake him cookies after school. I wanted to have Family Game Nights every week. I wanted to belong to a church. Have I done enough? My son is 18, have I done enough? It's hard to believe, but impossible to deny anymore. My son is 18.
By 3 p.m., the twinges were occurring every 20 minutes. This was my first pregnancy. I didn't know what to expect. I didn't know what to do. I ate a light dinner. My husband went to bed at 10 p.m. At 11 p.m., I decided to try to sleep. The problem was that in the dark and silence of night, the twinges felt stronger. I was starting to get a bit nervous. Maybe even scared. At 11:30 p.m., I called my Dr. He said to wait until contractions were closer together. Well, I decided to take a shower. Then I packed my bags. Then I woke up my husband. We went to the hospital. I asked them to either send me home, or admit me. I didn't want to be there for hours, then dismissed. I had heard several women from Lamaze class talk about that. I didn't want that to happen to me. By 1 a.m., I was admitted.
I had an excellent student nurse, Jeanne. She kept me full of ice chips. I had an epidural. After 22 hours of "twinges", I finally was pushing out this person (we didn't know yet if it was a boy or girl) into my life. I was moments away from meeting the person who would make me a Mom. Twenty minutes later, I said "Hi D.J.". Mind you, his cord was not cut yet. I'm not even sure his feet were out yet. What struck me at that moment was a huge wave of exhaustion, a desperate need for a Diet Coke, and overwhelming joy. I sobbed. I smiled. I laughed. I was ready to do it over again. It was incredible. The next thing that struck me was I just called my son (doesn't that sound good? "my son") "D.J." I had wanted to name a boy "Garth". We had talked about POSSIBLY naming a boy after my husband and father-in-law, and calling him D.J. I was still leaning towards Garth. I was so surprised that I called him D.J., but it stuck. He was my D.J. He was my son.
We spent two nights in the hospital. I was over joyed. I can't remember a time I was ever so happy! When we took him home, we changed his diaper. He had been circumcised that morning. He looked sore. I cried. I squeezed some Vaseline on it. My husband took the tube and said "That's not enough" and squeezed a bunch more. Next thing you know, D.J.'s eye lids had pools of pee on them. Oh man did we laugh!
It's hard to believe this was all 18 years ago. Yes, my son, my D.J. turned 18 today.
I have had several hairstyles in eighteen years. My weight has changed. My style of dressing has changed. I have had 7 different jobs, done daycare for over 20 kids, been to Disneyworld twice. I have been to Germany and Paris, France. I've been a Bridesmaid three times. I know that time has passed. But to be the Mother of an 18 yr. old? It is hard to believe.
I have learned the in's and outs of Cub Scouts. I know the name of Pokemon characters. I build a mean Lego car. I have been knee deep in Mighty Beans and G.I.Joes. I have read all the Harry Potter books (over and over and over)and have watched "101 Dalmatians" hundreds of times. We have laughed and cried. O.K., he makes me laugh and cry. He made me a Mom. He has taught me pretty well. I do tend to be a rebellious student though, I often refuse to do the homework. If I do the homework, it means my son will grow more. I want him to stay little.
He has had tubes in his ears for multiple ear infections. He had his wisdom teeth removed. He has had 2 rather nasty broken arms (and 2 not so nasty broken arms too). He has had 3 surgeries on his arm and still needs one more. My son. My son who now is getting ready to graduate from High School. Then he plans on joining the military. It's so hard to believe.
My son, D.J., is smart. He is funny, witty. He is brave, unbelievably brave. He is responsible, well, unless he is swallowing straight pins or trying to light bleach on fire! This day should be all about him, his accomplishments. I keep thinking though about all the things I haven't done for him, with him. Have I done enough? I wanted to bake him cookies after school. I wanted to have Family Game Nights every week. I wanted to belong to a church. Have I done enough? My son is 18, have I done enough? It's hard to believe, but impossible to deny anymore. My son is 18.
Friday, February 12, 2010
What got my panties in a bunch today
I have decided I am running for our school board. I have been on PTO boards for years and it's time to move on up. I am not popular on these types of boards. I am the voice of students, of common sense. Most school board and PTO members are the voice of money, questioning how to get more. It irritates me.
The problem here is that our state law is for school to be in session for 180 days per school year. What this REALLY means is that one attendance is taken, the school day counts. Any days a school board puts on the calendar more than the necessary 180 is worth more money to the district. Many schools plan for over 180 days. This year our school planned on 189 days. We have 2 days for Spring Break. We had 3 days over Thanksgiving. We start around August 25th each year and go through about June 5th each year. My complaint is this, we have had 4 snow days this week. Our county is under a State of Emergency. We need to make up at least 2 of these snow days. But, what really irritates me is that after 4 days off, they have school on Friday. Well, they have a 2 hour delay on Friday which means 30 minute class periods. Monday is a Holiday, no school. Tel me, how much learning will happen today? Four days off, 30 minute class periods, three day weekend. Today is a waste of energy for teachers, students, and all other school workers. But, kids were there for attendance, so the district gets their money. Money is more important than learning today. Money is more important than safety today too. Our streets are not plowed wide enough for kids to walk on while a car drives past. So, my kids are walking to the bus stop on icy streets, covered in 3 inches of slush. If they encounter a passing car they will either get splashed by slush, or they can stand in a snow bank. Did I mention we have about 30+ inches of snow? The school posted warnings on emails and on their T.V. station about using caution when driving and that there is not many parking spots, so ride the buses. If that is really needed, shouldn't the kids be home, safe? Ugh.
The real problem aside from money is this...people want their kids to be in school. Not for an education, but to get them out of their hair. I used to work a part time job. One evening I was there when I heard that the next day would be a snow day. SEVERAL people were suddenly in an uproar. They didn't want their kids at home, they had stuff planned, what were they going to do about work? Really? I understand that work is important. I understand that you need to go to work to earn money to buy stuff for your kids. But, work more important than your family? I don't get it. I cherish having my kids at home. I am one of those Moms that love summer vacation. I have cried more first days of school than I would like to admit. I actually like being a Mom. I am not a Mom so that people think better of me. I am not a Mom because it is what I thought I should do. I am a Mom because it is what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend time with my kids. I want to be the one who teaches them to count, to write their name, to tie their shoes. I would financially be better off if I had a paying job away from the house. My kids could take more piano lessons, be on more sports teams, go to summer camp if I had a paying job. But, I think spending time with my family is priceless. I can always go back to a paying job. I can't go back to having a 3 year old.
So, the fact that I feel like my school board has put a dollar sign over my childrens heads is very angering. Keeping kids home for one more snow day, for safety and for common sense today would have made me so much happier. I just feel like the school board was collecting the pennies as the buses unloaded this morning. I could have kept them home and collected some memories. It saddens me that so many people would rather not spend time with their kids. That snow days (or their childs illness) is an inconvience they would rather not deal with. Tell me, what part of parenting IS convenient? I didn't know convenient was part of the parent vocabulary.
Yes, I am going to run for the School Board. I need to knock some sense into people. Enjoy your kids. They grow fast. They will remember one well played snow day with their Mom way longer than they will remember the lesson they learned in a semester of Chemistry.
The problem here is that our state law is for school to be in session for 180 days per school year. What this REALLY means is that one attendance is taken, the school day counts. Any days a school board puts on the calendar more than the necessary 180 is worth more money to the district. Many schools plan for over 180 days. This year our school planned on 189 days. We have 2 days for Spring Break. We had 3 days over Thanksgiving. We start around August 25th each year and go through about June 5th each year. My complaint is this, we have had 4 snow days this week. Our county is under a State of Emergency. We need to make up at least 2 of these snow days. But, what really irritates me is that after 4 days off, they have school on Friday. Well, they have a 2 hour delay on Friday which means 30 minute class periods. Monday is a Holiday, no school. Tel me, how much learning will happen today? Four days off, 30 minute class periods, three day weekend. Today is a waste of energy for teachers, students, and all other school workers. But, kids were there for attendance, so the district gets their money. Money is more important than learning today. Money is more important than safety today too. Our streets are not plowed wide enough for kids to walk on while a car drives past. So, my kids are walking to the bus stop on icy streets, covered in 3 inches of slush. If they encounter a passing car they will either get splashed by slush, or they can stand in a snow bank. Did I mention we have about 30+ inches of snow? The school posted warnings on emails and on their T.V. station about using caution when driving and that there is not many parking spots, so ride the buses. If that is really needed, shouldn't the kids be home, safe? Ugh.
The real problem aside from money is this...people want their kids to be in school. Not for an education, but to get them out of their hair. I used to work a part time job. One evening I was there when I heard that the next day would be a snow day. SEVERAL people were suddenly in an uproar. They didn't want their kids at home, they had stuff planned, what were they going to do about work? Really? I understand that work is important. I understand that you need to go to work to earn money to buy stuff for your kids. But, work more important than your family? I don't get it. I cherish having my kids at home. I am one of those Moms that love summer vacation. I have cried more first days of school than I would like to admit. I actually like being a Mom. I am not a Mom so that people think better of me. I am not a Mom because it is what I thought I should do. I am a Mom because it is what I wanted to do. I wanted to spend time with my kids. I want to be the one who teaches them to count, to write their name, to tie their shoes. I would financially be better off if I had a paying job away from the house. My kids could take more piano lessons, be on more sports teams, go to summer camp if I had a paying job. But, I think spending time with my family is priceless. I can always go back to a paying job. I can't go back to having a 3 year old.
So, the fact that I feel like my school board has put a dollar sign over my childrens heads is very angering. Keeping kids home for one more snow day, for safety and for common sense today would have made me so much happier. I just feel like the school board was collecting the pennies as the buses unloaded this morning. I could have kept them home and collected some memories. It saddens me that so many people would rather not spend time with their kids. That snow days (or their childs illness) is an inconvience they would rather not deal with. Tell me, what part of parenting IS convenient? I didn't know convenient was part of the parent vocabulary.
Yes, I am going to run for the School Board. I need to knock some sense into people. Enjoy your kids. They grow fast. They will remember one well played snow day with their Mom way longer than they will remember the lesson they learned in a semester of Chemistry.
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