Encyclopedia of Me A edition

This may be a cop out, but I'd like to think of it as killing two birds with one stone.

I've been planning on making an Encyclopedia of Me of my own for a couple of years now, but haven't gotten around to it. If I use it as blog posts, I'll at least have the journaling done in a short amount of time.

For A:

Ancestry-  I became interested in my family history in 2012 when I started preparing for my parents 50th anniversary. I realized at that point my time with them wasn't going to be forever and I needed to get the stories I could. My mom had a typical middle class life and had good memories to share. My dad grew up poor and had few stories to share that didn't include working hard. Those stories led to a subscription to Ancestry.com and my search for stories.

Dad died ten years later-- 7 months before what would have been their 60th anniversary. Mom died two years after that. They didn't know the stories I had discovered. I continue to search for more. I hope to be able to share the stories I've discovered with my siblings soon.

Anxiety:  I "suffer" from anxiety or depression. I had postpartum depression after my kids were born. I recognized it after watching Marie Osmond talking about hers on Oprah. Everything she said was me. I asked my doctor and he asked, "Is that not normal for you?"

He is an amazing doctor and I wished he could have moved with us when we moved away, but that question threw me. In a 3 year span of time I had had 2 children, found our first born might be legally blind, moved to a new house, I'd left my job that I loved, and become a stay at home mom. I didn't know what normal for me was. So, I let it go.

I became afraid of going out, being in public, being alone...

We moved here and things didn't get better. I asked our new doctor and she put me on a medication. It has helped...immensely.

I still get anxious about crowds. I still work on not getting bogged down. I still think...hard...about everything. So Anxiety is definitely under A for me.

Autumn:  Autumn is my favorite season. I chose Autumn for my camp name. My husband says it is the perfect description of me. Stormy, changing, colorful. My birthday is in Autumn. I met my husband in Autumn. Autumn is sunshine and sweatshirts. If they made a candle that smelled like burning leaves, I'd have a collection.

Someone Needs to Write a Book

The Tylonel murders that led to safety packaging happened while I was still of trick or treating age.

Adam Walsh went missing and turned out to have been murdered when I was of babysitting age.

Two students from school went camping at a local campground and were murdered when I was in High School.

My best friend and I were followed to school several days by a man in a truck who told police he "just wanted to look at the pretty girls."

Columbine happened when I was pregnant with our second child. I watched it unfold on TV while our oldest was napping.

The world is not any more or less safe today than it was 40 years ago.

So why, when I drop our 17 year old at the theater, do I worry as though the worst will happen if I just leave him there?

Elizabeth Stone said, "To have a child is to forever have your heart go walking around outside of your body."

There needs to be a What to Expect the Teenage and College Years because this angst was not covered in the baby books.

I've always thought Love You Forever was creepy and my husband says the mom in that book is a stalker. But, I'm starting to understand where the mom is coming from...

But both my guys have nixed my idea of hubby and me buying an RV and splitting time between the homes they will have with their families.

Darn. :-)

Parents are the problem

Here in Indiana we had storms move through overnight, so I am tired and grumpy. Maybe not the best way to kick off writing month because the frustration is more raw.

So many educators push back against criticism of the education system laying the blame on poverty. Yes, there are hungry children.  Yes, there are homes where kids lack shelter. And absolutely a child can't learn if he is hungry or she is homeless. We need to help those children.

But, I am going to be controversial and lay the criticism at the feet of parents. Children are not a "To-Do" list item to cross off your life goals list.

 "My body- my choice" should not refer to the life that grows inside a woman. The choice a woman makes should be to have intercourse or not.

Most birth control is pretty effective if used correctly. Not having sex is 100% effective. Choose the father of your child carefully. They will be a part of your child's life for the rest of your life.

Once you have children, they become important. Yes, you need to remember who you are, but who you are is not the same as the you before kids. Kids shouldn't necessarily be the center of your universe, but they should rank above your sex life. Kids have steps, Halfs, and mom's boyfriend's kids that they call a sibling. A child should have a home. Not a favorite suitcase.

The latest movie may be something you are looking forward to. Hire a baby sitter. Dead Pool is not for 8 year olds or 7 year olds or 6 year olds. Dead Pool is rated R -- that means you should be over the age of 17. That should be a hint that you maybe at least preview it-- to see if it would be ok. And for the record, it still isn't for a 6, 7, or 8 year old.

My husband went to a presentation a long time ago where they discussed  poverty. The notion that people in poverty live for NOW. If they get money they spend it right away on "fun things" because they don't know when they will get money again. My friends who have been teaching for a long time confirm this.  They say they will visit a family at their home and there will be a big screen TV and multiple game consoles and games. However, the kids won't have a bed. And there isn't a table or chairs where they can eat. Where does the concept that an adult's happiness overrules their responsibilities as a parent? And why do we let it slide with a shrug of the shoulders or a frustrated sigh and think if only the parent(s) had more government money things would be better for the children?

We can throw all the money in the world at the poverty dilemma, but it won't change the mindset.

I grew up with government cheese and powdered milk. My dad hated having a boss telling him what to do, so he worked for himself a lot. Christmas was thrift store finds or homemade gifts. As soon as I started babysitting at 11, I was, for the most part, the one who bought my own clothes. I heard my mom beg for more time to pay bills. I know she was embarrassed when she had to use food stamps.  Because they didn't have much money or any real financial stability, when my dad died my mom negotiated a bargain price on cremation based on the fact the funeral home had handled many of her family's funerals --and locked in the price for herself. I have been there-- in the poverty cycle. And I don't feel sorry for myself.

My parents didn't provide monetary things. My parents provided stability. They provided expectations. They provided boundaries.  There was a point in time that I thought them selfish for not providing for us all the things I thought I "needed." After working with kids whose parents get more government money than my parents ever did, but spend it on fun-- not caring they aren't providing for their kids, makes me grateful. I am grateful that while I still think my dad was selfish for not keeping a job because he didn't like being told what to do, they put food on the table and gave us values. They stayed together for nearly 60 years until death parted them. And that is after losing a child when she was 5. They didn't give up because things were hard.

So stop putting the blame on the government not doing enough, or having a high enough minimum wage, or think throwing more government  money at people who still manage to fund cigarettes and beer is the answer.  I am not smart enough to say what THE answer is, but I honestly believe making excuses isn't it.

Why the diatribe? It gets frustrating when kids are rude, disrespectful, and even violent and we don't want to bother the parents. These incidents have happened this week. Obviously I can't go into details but the one in particular is not even from poverty. The one is from selfish parents who put their own needs before their child's. And will continue to do so because parenting is hard. And parents aren't expected to put in their best effort if they don't want to.

"You can't tell a parent how to be a parent."

Maybe not. But maybe there could be a rubric?

I'll be less grouchy tomorrow.

Thankful Day one

Growing up in northern Indiana, Autumn is the best of all seasons. The warm days and cool evenings lead to spectacular leaf colors. The angle of the sun is warm and inviting. Growing up in the 70's  leaf burning was allowed and in the country now, it still is. I love the smell of burning leaves so much, I would buy a candle with a "burning leaf" scent if it existed and they could capture it exactly. Being able to wear a T-shirt during the day but needing a sweatshirt at night is a beautiful bonus to Autumn's attributes.

If it were possible to hug a day, today was a day to bear hug. 

Younger son and I went for a walk after school down our country roads and as we walked the overwhelming thought in my head was, "What a gift!" 

Warm air stirred by strong breezes wafted leaves from the trees to shower the road as we walked. I love to take photos and as I listened to  my son talk about his day at school and what homework he had for the night, I kept wishing I had my camera with me to capture the angle of branches on the trees that were now uncovered from their summer layers. You normally think of "dappled" pertaining to the patches of light and dark on the ground, but the angle of the sun made the orange practically sparkle -- if it's possible for orange to sparkle. The sky was pale blue and made the perfect background for the colors of the leaves. I asked my son to take a picture of one tree in particular, that was stunning, with his phone since I didn't even have that with me. 

After we got home, my wonderful 17 year old son even agreed to humor me by collecting some leaves from the yard and tossing them in the air so I could get a picture of falling leaves. 

I wish there was a way to bottle days like this, but I guess if they were common we wouldn't appreciate them as much. 

For the beauty of the day and the gift of a teenage son I adore, I am truly thankful. 

Worry

There was spotting of blood before I knew I was pregnant and I worried.

I was "high normal" for amniotic fluid so I worried.

His heart rate dropped during labor and I worried.

When he was born the cord was wrapped around his neck, his arm, and his leg so I worried.

His bilirubin count at one week was 29 and the hospital tech person remarked, "Wow! I've never seen it that high before!" Boy, did I worry.

He wasn't tracking left to right when he was 3 months old and I worried.

We were told he had albinism and might be legally blind. I worried.

He skipped kindergarten because he would have been the 29th child and they wouldn't have an assistant until there were 30 kids. I worried it was the right choice.

We moved before the end of 1st grade and I worried.

Because of his vision, he was not good at sports in a town that plays sports. He was smart beyond his age. He loved to read. He did not love to talk. I worried because he didn't have many kids he could relate to.
I worried and my heart hurt.

Hubby had to find a new job the summer before 8th grade. He found one 2 hours away. We had to decide whether to move the whole family from our home of 6 years just as the boys were entering their critical teen years or have the boys and I stay and hubby commute on weekends. I still worry if we made the right choice.

There are so many decisions we make on behalf of our children. Most seem huge at the moment:

Breast or Bottle
Cloth or Disposable
when to feed solids
when to potty train
how to celebrate major and family holidays
stay at home mom or working outside the home mom

The list goes on. And at every crossroad we worry if it's the "right" thing.
There are copious amounts of books telling us how we made the "wrong" choice.

Then the day comes when your child leaves for college or the military or marriage or a job opportunity and you realize all your choices culminate in that moment. You've studied for this test with all those books and experts tutoring. And you worry.

At least I do.

We take oldest to campus in a few days -- not far away, but not here anymore.

I know we have a wonderful, intelligent, thoughtful, creative, kind son. People who see him say he is ready and he'll be fine.
He worked at residence camp this summer for 9 weeks. They say he'll be fine.
My husband tells me he'll be fine.

But I know when we drive away, leaving him there with 3 suite mate strangers, on a campus in the middle of a bigger city, to figure out classes and living and managing life his way, I will worry if we did enough to prepare him. I will worry that today's society is too dangerous to allow him to be out there without me to throw myself in front of danger.

And I worry that having done it right means he won't need me anymore.

It is said that to have a child, is to forever have your heart walk around outside your body.

Well, this week -- my heart leaves for college.