One of THOSE Weeks

    I am having one of THOSE weeks. Ya'll know the kind I speak of.
    The week where you look in the mirror and you can't find a single thing about your features that you like.
    The week where you know you can't avoid a situation any longer but you know there is not a single freaking thing you can say which will change the outcome of it.
    The week where you need to give just the right kind of parental advice because it's just that important but you, yourself, don't even know how the hell to handle people so how can you give advice on it.
    The week where everything you had planned to accomplish has been left on the to do list because you're so busy putting out fires that you don't have time to do anything else.

   And hell, it's only Tuesday!

   Whew, that is finally off my chest. Am I venting? Yes, dear. And I have to apologize because you come here to my blog...well, heck I don't even know why people come here. I think it's for my witty and charming advice on what not to do in life. Why can't they have a show about that?
   "What Not to Do in Life!"
 
    When at the zoo, do you put your hand in the alligator cage or not?
    Mmm, lets bring in our experts.
    Expert 1:  "Well, first of all, why are wearing that skirt to the zoo? Really, do you know how ugly it is? That alligator should just be allowed to eat all of you and put us all out of misery for having to see such a fashion atrocious."
    Expert 2: "What year was she born in? Daring the alligator is so in your twenties stupid."

    Yes, these shows where experts are allowed to bully others just teaches everyone else that if they want to be cool, they should just annihilate people emotionally. Forget nurturing and caring. This is Sparta and if you don't agree.
   We kill you.
  
   I'm tired of bullies. I'm tired of dealing with school systems that don't stop situations until they become a mine field of broken psyches and bruised hearts.
   But with that being said. I have to applaud my elementary school. Last year, as you can recall, we had issues with bullies. This year, things have changed a bit. Abu was in school, and another student teased her about Baby Blueberry's hands. How hurt does someone have to be on the inside that they would taunt a newborn?
   Has our society fallen so much?
   Anyway, the teacher was informed, who promptly turned it over to the principal and he pulled the student from the class and reprimanded him for his actions.
    Will it change the child?
    Will it make him more conscious of others' needs and wants and feelings?
    I don't know.
   How do you get to the age of nine and you're bullying newborns to fill that empty inside you?

  People are a complicated bunch. Complex. Driven by pain and grief and joy and experiences.

   Bean is having trouble at school. Some of it she's at fault for. Social skills are not her best...yet.
    But to give her credit, for as hard as it's been for her this year as she moves closer to being a young woman and less a child, she tried to make it right.
     She told another girl's secret and of course, the girl was hurt. Bean tried to apologize, genuinely and repeatedly but the other girl was too hurt. So Bean stopped talking to the other girl, because at that point I felt like it was better if she just left the other girl alone.  But the other girl didn't want to drop it. So in her pain, she is harassing Bean to show her anger.

      A school system, heck a society, that was centered on the four things a soul needs to grow; physical, spiritual, education, and social; would have been able to step in and assist the girls in dealing with their hurts and their actions and help them grow from the experience.
   Instead, middle school is hell. It's about survival. It's about sending our children there and hope they come out without too many wounds.
  Yet, that's how the world is. You go out into the world, most people with the best intentions, and you return; hurt and scarred and wounded. Some people hide away from the world, others focus on things that won't hurt if they fail, others turn to substance abuse to cover up their insecurities, and others become bullies because they figure it's better to hurt first than be hurt.

   I was listening to a TEDtalk on Youtube, given by this kid. A kid around Bean's age. Who said when asked what he wanted to do with his life, gave the answer...happy. He wanted to be happy. So I stopped asking my kids what they want to be when they grow up.
   A career will happen. I value knowledge too much not to pass that love of learning on to my kids. And I want to help them find something that they will be able to support themselves in a changing and broken economy.

   And maybe the questions shouldn't be what do you want to be? Who do you want to be?
  
   I want my kids to be happy.
   I want them to be strong.
   I want them to nurture and love the people in their life.
   I want them to find spouses who love them and support them and challenge them. Who encourage them and help them to continue to grow.
   I want them to have families. To make a family structure for themselves, their spouses, and their children that encourage growth and a path of faith. That is based in LOVE.
  I want them to make the world a better place but also realize they can be themselves. Flaws, and faults and quirks and all.
  I want them to find their spiritual path. Their faith.
  I want them to give and be generous. To do the right thing.
  I want to know them, as adults. To have a relationship with them.
  I want them to realize that learning never, ever, stops. That 12th grade isn't the end of learning...in fact, it's just the beginning.
 
  I want them to be themselves. I want them to find the strength to fill any empty they ever feel with love and not anger, or hate, or fear.

      I want them to know they are stronger than their insecurities.
    
     That God is stronger than their fears.
    
   That love is always more powerful than hate. 

   And so, I am having one of THOSE weeks. The kind of week where I have to list my blessings, so I realize that list is longer than my complaints. (Thank God.)
    The kind of week, where I don't have the words I need to give the advice I need to give Bean, so I pray and pray and pray that my words will be the correct ones.
   And as for everything else in this week; I have to realize it will be what it will be and accept it.

   In the meanwhile; special family outings, weekly visits with friends, a baby who is calling me  Momma, and an Abu who is starting to be more like her happy self again, are all wonderful things to celebrate. So I really can't complain and the hateful part of the world can just deal with that.
   

  

The Philosophy of Going to School in your Pajama's

      After so many years of being a Mother and repeating the same routine every day for well over ten years, I finally decided that this morning was it. This morning we wouldn't worry about appearances, rules or routines.
       Brush your teeth, but please go to school in your pj's, your robe, don't brush your hair and leave your dirty underwear on. It's alright. It saves us time. We don't have to worry about grabbing our jackets because we're wearing our robes. There's more time for sleep because we don't have to do our hair and tonight, all we have to do is slip into bed and we're ready for nighttime.
     
        Have I truly lost it? Has years of doing dishes a few times a day finally drove me crazy? Has folding the same shirts, pants, and towels finally sent me over the edge? How many times can a person cook dinner before they decide that their children can live off cereal, fruit and toast for all three meals a day? I'm not sure but some nights my children get awfully close to finding out. (Grin)
         
        And I'm not kidding when I say I sent Bean and Abu to school in their pj's. They were so cute too. Flannel pajama bottoms, messy hair and their robes. I even took pictures to prove that we took a break from our usual getting ready for school routine. They don't get to go to school being so unkempt and messy. It was fun.
         I didn't do it because I'm tired and worn out on the same daily script. It was Crazy Day for their 'I'm Drug Free Week.' They had to dress wacky for their school day. My children thought showing up in their pj's would constitute being crazy.

         I have to smile because at least I'm not raising Wal-Mart shoppers. I swear if I have to see one more sloppy woman dressed in a tight spaghetti strap night shirt and baggy pants that keeps trying to fall off while I'm trying to purchase food I'm going to explain to her that when they say you should wear a shirt or no service; they also mean you should wear a shirt that doesn't allow your boobies to flop out for the entire world to see. And wearing shoes, means actual shoes; not fuzzy bunny slippers. Oh, boy. We'll leave discussions of Wal-Mart people for other websites.
       On that point though I do have to mention a funny piece of journalism I read. This reporter was interviewing a woman shopper about this dollar store that had opened up in her town. She was excited because she didn't have to dress up to shop there like she did when she went to Wal-Mart. What??? Does that mean she's just going to wear a robe or worse, her birthday suit?
       
        Anyway...

        I'm not sure how wearing crazy clothes is supposed to promote not using drugs. The theme for today is Too Cool for Drugs. Tomorrow they can bring a stuffed animal to school (great, lets not promote bed bugs while we're at it) and the theme is Hugs not Drugs. Wednesday's theme is 'Drugs turn you inside out' and they get to wear their clothes inside out. Thursday we are back to being crazy. And Friday is 'Partner up for a fight against drugs.' You have to find a friend and dress up in the same outfit.
         The girls love this week because it's a break from their normal routine. But I still wonder how many kids won't do drugs because they wore their clothes inside out for a day? I have my doubts and like all parents should do I have had frank discussions with my children about drugs and the consequences. I know Bean. Don't tell her not to do something without a reason she can agree with, otherwise she'll do it just to spite me. I don't want her getting into drugs because she's trying to prove a point to her parents. Whatever she may perceive that point to be. And obviously, even the most diligent parent can't always prevent their children from doing stupid things but I do find that they do better when they understand the truth. So with Bean, because I know she works off facts and information, I let her watch two shows on the Discovery Channel about drug usage. The one show was about a Mother who was going to give birth in a prison because of drug usage. The other show was about a Mother who gave birth to a baby addicted to heroin. The shows were honest, real and explained consequences far more thoroughly than bringing your favorite stuffed animal to school will ever do. But I suppose schools have to try because unfortunately, not all parents are going to educate their children.


        Which brings us around to philosophy, strangely enough. Right now, I'm reading a book, 'Breakfast with Socrates' by Robert Rowland Smith.
         Why would I be reading a book on philosophy? Probably because one can only clean the toilet so many times before you wonder if Socrates was right when he said, "The unexamined life is not worth living." Or maybe, it's better not to think about how many you have cleaned crap off the porcelain surface.
         The word 'philosophy' translates to mean, the love of wisdom. Which, as I've been trying to teach Bean, being wise is completely different than being smart. Of course, no matter how many times I've done it or how much I hate it, I do think it's being pretty darn wise to clean the toilet...often too. :)
         I've just started the book, so I'm not much pass the chapters that are about waking up and getting ready in the morning. I'm currently studying the ideas of Descartes and the state of existing. He said something cool like, "I think, therefore I am."
         Can that translate to blogging? "I blog, therefore I am."
         I will have to ponder that for a while.

         (Grin.)
        

Retreat into the Familiar

      My oldest daughter, her nickname is Bean, turned ten years old at the beginning of summer and has entered the last year of elementary school this fall. Change has been like a roller coaster ride for her and yesterday I think she almost fell off. Retreated back into the safe and warm folds of childhood.
    
       Already she has started to give up toys, now her dolls wait in carefully placed poses on her nightstand or in the dollhouse, rarely played with but still enjoyed nevertheless. Her preparations for school take a whole lot more time, with the shoes absolutely having to match the outfit, the hair style matching the shirt and the backpack an accessory that just happens to carry her homework. Nails are painted every weekend and this summer she got her ears pierced. Whew, I can't keep up, I'm not sure how she does it. Maybe that's why she gets a bit crabby sometimes, torn between still wanting to be cuddled and treated like a child and wanting to find the path that will lead to her adulthood. I didn't realize it started quite so young but all journeys do have a beginning and watching her fumble towards the right path makes me proud of her for the wonderful job she's doing and the intense need to cry because she'll never be my small child again.
       I didn't remember how much change I went through in fifth grade until Bean came home yesterday completely upset and in a temper. That girl is tough, and a lot like Wolverine. The temper flares when pain is experienced. Tears are rarely seen, which is not like me at all. So she comes home quite mad at this girl at school.
      "We were having lunch together and talking just like every day since school started. Oh, she's such..." She breaks off, controlling her temper, especially since name calling isn't allowed in our household.
        "What happened?" I asked, quite concerned because she seemed so vulnerable and not like the sassy fifth grader I have been sending to school the last two weeks, all confident and sure of herself.
        "We were talking and then suddenly, just suddenly Mom. She asks me 'why do you sit with us?" She frowns and obviously this question has confused her for the abruptness of how it had been asked. "I said it was because I liked to." She takes a deep breath, her fists clenched, her face lined with anger but it's the hurt in her green gold eyes that has me wanting to take her in a big hug.
        "Then what happened?" I asked quietly.
         "She said I was annoying. That everything I said was annoying. That I was just annoying and I wasn't welcomed to sit with them anymore. And she was so rude about it. Just snotty and rude. I wanted to punch her."  Angry. Hurt. And totally confused how one second they could be getting along and then suddenly thrown into the lion's den.
         I asked her what happened then. Apparently the conversation had been interrupted before Bean had a chance to respond. The lunch room was put into quiet mode and under the threat of losing recess they dared not speak. But later at recess the girl was not nice to Bean either and I must have taught my daughter something because she responded firmly but didn't resort to name calling or rudeness. And I know she would have been angry and hurt.
        I went through the usual cliches of how some people just aren't nice, there might be reasons, such as a terrible home life, or they're having a bad day but we still didn't have to spend time with them and the best thing to do was avoid rude people like that. Don't let her be a bully but we don't have to allow them a chance to ruin our day. I reassured her that she had plenty of other friends, ones that weren't suddenly rude and hurtful and she shouldn't let this girl bother her.
       But I know it hurts. I remember fifth grade and the day my best friend from fourth grade stood up and told everyone it was her last day because her parents were getting a divorce and she was moving. I was shocked because she hadn't told me. The summer before she had decided to play with someone else and had told me we weren't best friends anymore. I had been horribly hurt and had hoped that once the school year started we would be friends again. Apparently not.
      So I knew Bean was hurting, it's hard to learn lessons on how to deal with people. How to deal with ourselves. So I did the only other thing I knew how to do to make it better. I gathered her into a huge bear hug and held her close for a minute, telling her that no matter what she was My Bean and would always have a family that loved her.
      I don't know how much it helped except she wasn't as angry but for the rest of the afternoon she pulled out my childhood collection of My Little Ponies and started playing with her sister and her nieces. And then she picked a few of her favorites and took them to the corner of the room and played by herself. Making them talk and play. The sounds of pretend were warmly familiar but just a bit solemn because I knew she was finding comfort with a tactical retreat back into childhood.
     And sometimes don't we all have to make tactical retreats from life and the world?