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?
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
McDegrees...Can I Supersize It?
If I was living in the UK I suppose I can make my Mum proud and earn a degree...from McDonald's. Yes, I'm seriously talking about that fast food joint that sells a ton of food to children because it comes with a toy. When I was a child I didn't want a Happy Meal because of the burger, it was the toy. Why couldn't all meals come with a toy?
'Mom, I'll eat my mixed veggies if I can get a toy.'
Yeah, that never worked and that's why mixed veggies (a horrible combo of peas, carrots, lima beans and corn) always ended up in weird and unusual places. Such as below the rim of my plate, in napkins and in the bottom of milk glasses. If the dog managed to hide under the kitchen table, he was rewarded for his cleverness with mixed veggies, not the chicken he was hoping. (Grin)
I'm not a big fan of McDonald's. My children have food allergies and can not consume most of their products and after a while of cooking food from scratch because of the aforementioned food allergies, McDonald's food just doesn't taste that great.
But the toys can still be pretty tempting, especially for adults...I mean children.
Toys and food aside, who actually wants a business degree from McDonald's? Are there teenagers working at the drive thru and deciding to working at McDonald's forever? Do they want and dream about obtaining a degree that I would doubt is transferable into other college programs? If I'm wrong, then someone correct me but colleges are ridiculously picky about accepting credits from other schools, do you think a private university is going to look at a business degree from McDonald's and put them right into the fast track of obtaining their MBA. Of course, with how horrible Europe's and America's financial situations are right now, perhaps those MBA's in charge of our countries and large companies do have degrees from McDonald's. On the other hand, as far as I understand from a financial point of view, McDonald's isn't doing too bad, so perhaps the MBA's should have obtained their business degrees from the fast food giant, rather than from books and professors teaching them that to pay your debt you just borrow more money. Mmmm, I tried that once, it didn't work out well.
Still, I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of my child growing up and deciding that she wants to work at McDonald's forever.
I can hear the commercials now to convince parents of this opportunity. It would be like the armed forces commercials. (Disclaimer, I'm not making fun of the Armed Forces and our troops, just silly commercials.)
'Mom, I thought long and hard about this and I really need you to understand.' Daughter says, while we're in the kitchen together. The music builds up, I have a look of doubt and worry on my face.
'I want you to do what makes you happy Daughter, but are you sure this is what you want to do. This is a big decision and then I have to convince your Father.' I wring my hands together.
"I want to be part of something bigger than me. I want to be part of something I can be proud of. I want you to be proud of me.' She is earnest, full of sincerity and obviously not a real teenager since she's not crying, yelling or slamming doors.
I take a deep breath. 'I know. But are you sure you want to join...McDonald's?'
Then the narrator comes on, convincing all parents that a degree from McDonald's in the best thing for their children and besides it comes with a Happy Meal.
I had siblings that worked fast food, they left as soon as possible. The smell of stale fry oil that clings to everything; your clothes, your shoes, in your car; is not pleasant. The long hours, the cranky customers, the lazy workers, was never a career goal for them. So I supposed to believe that people are eager to obtain a business degree from a fast food company? Perhaps I'm wrong, a career at McDonald's might be a great opportunity in this poor economy and that's probably why the idea of a McDegree is bothering me. I could never see my free spirited children slaving away as a manager in a company that tries to convince everyone that it's a great and wonderful thing because they handed you a degree to do it.
Call me hopeful, but as a mother I only want big and bright things for my children and working fast food, with or without a degree, isn't something that they will find happiness in.
Even if it comes with a toy.
'Mom, I'll eat my mixed veggies if I can get a toy.'
Yeah, that never worked and that's why mixed veggies (a horrible combo of peas, carrots, lima beans and corn) always ended up in weird and unusual places. Such as below the rim of my plate, in napkins and in the bottom of milk glasses. If the dog managed to hide under the kitchen table, he was rewarded for his cleverness with mixed veggies, not the chicken he was hoping. (Grin)
I'm not a big fan of McDonald's. My children have food allergies and can not consume most of their products and after a while of cooking food from scratch because of the aforementioned food allergies, McDonald's food just doesn't taste that great.
But the toys can still be pretty tempting, especially for adults...I mean children.
Toys and food aside, who actually wants a business degree from McDonald's? Are there teenagers working at the drive thru and deciding to working at McDonald's forever? Do they want and dream about obtaining a degree that I would doubt is transferable into other college programs? If I'm wrong, then someone correct me but colleges are ridiculously picky about accepting credits from other schools, do you think a private university is going to look at a business degree from McDonald's and put them right into the fast track of obtaining their MBA. Of course, with how horrible Europe's and America's financial situations are right now, perhaps those MBA's in charge of our countries and large companies do have degrees from McDonald's. On the other hand, as far as I understand from a financial point of view, McDonald's isn't doing too bad, so perhaps the MBA's should have obtained their business degrees from the fast food giant, rather than from books and professors teaching them that to pay your debt you just borrow more money. Mmmm, I tried that once, it didn't work out well.
Still, I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea of my child growing up and deciding that she wants to work at McDonald's forever.
I can hear the commercials now to convince parents of this opportunity. It would be like the armed forces commercials. (Disclaimer, I'm not making fun of the Armed Forces and our troops, just silly commercials.)
'Mom, I thought long and hard about this and I really need you to understand.' Daughter says, while we're in the kitchen together. The music builds up, I have a look of doubt and worry on my face.
'I want you to do what makes you happy Daughter, but are you sure this is what you want to do. This is a big decision and then I have to convince your Father.' I wring my hands together.
"I want to be part of something bigger than me. I want to be part of something I can be proud of. I want you to be proud of me.' She is earnest, full of sincerity and obviously not a real teenager since she's not crying, yelling or slamming doors.
I take a deep breath. 'I know. But are you sure you want to join...McDonald's?'
Then the narrator comes on, convincing all parents that a degree from McDonald's in the best thing for their children and besides it comes with a Happy Meal.
I had siblings that worked fast food, they left as soon as possible. The smell of stale fry oil that clings to everything; your clothes, your shoes, in your car; is not pleasant. The long hours, the cranky customers, the lazy workers, was never a career goal for them. So I supposed to believe that people are eager to obtain a business degree from a fast food company? Perhaps I'm wrong, a career at McDonald's might be a great opportunity in this poor economy and that's probably why the idea of a McDegree is bothering me. I could never see my free spirited children slaving away as a manager in a company that tries to convince everyone that it's a great and wonderful thing because they handed you a degree to do it.
Call me hopeful, but as a mother I only want big and bright things for my children and working fast food, with or without a degree, isn't something that they will find happiness in.
Even if it comes with a toy.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
A Summer 'Bloomed'
Bloomed.
And that's how I feel about summer. It's no longer blooming, it has bloomed. And like a flower whose petals slowly fall off, seeds start to form and eventually the plant withers, summer has already given us its brightest day; now we watch it wind down to the chilly days of autumn.
I'm not ready. The children are definitely not ready for cold weather and longs weekends trapped in the house. They weren't ready for the first day of school this week. Even some of my plants aren't prepared for the coming arrival of fall. They are still pretending that these last few weeks of warm weather will last forever.
If only. I know I should try to appreciate winter more for it's frosty reminder of how grateful I should be that summer days are lit brightly and warm and wonderful. But Mr. Frost can kiss Summer's sun warmed...
Winter is not my favorite season. Perhaps if snow was 'smarter' and would only accumulate on the yard and not on my car. Or if it wouldn't drop to twenty below so the children could actually play in the snow, then I wouldn't be bemoaning- the too soon end -of sunny days. As it is, I am saddened by the 'bloomed' summer and wish it would blossom longer around these parts.
On another note, why do husbands have to be so frustrating? (Yes, men say that about their wives too and I know, as women we try to say they have nothing to complain about but I will admit, just so hero hottie doesn't think I'm picking on him, that yes sometimes wives can be frustrating too. (Grin)
But back when I started my blog I asked if I could refer to him by name or would he rather I came up with a nick name for him.
"I don't want you using my name. Come up with something. I don't care what." He said.
I thought long and hard and decided on hero hottie because even after over twelve years of marriage I still think he's hot and since most of the stories I write are romantically inclined, I naturally chose something that sounded like a corny romance novel.
He was okay with this. Not thrilled, even though I called him hot but gave me the go ahead.
And then I collected readers. In town. That knew him and used his new nickname.
"Why did you call me..." he bemoaned.
"Hero hottie?" I supplied when the poor man couldn't even say it aloud.
"Yes."
I gave him a mock glare, trying to hide the laughter and not being successful at all. Poor guy, not only did someone call him hero hottie but his wife wouldn't stop laughing over it. "You said I could call you that."
I reminded him.
"Yes, but I didn't think anyone would actually read your blog."
Ahhh. I should have been upset. And a little part of me was and as my friend said, 'You could change his name from hero hottie to hero nottie.'
And on some days I have certainty contemplated it but I think for now I'll just leave it as hero hottie and kindly let him continue enjoying his small claim to celebrity hood. I'm sure he'll get used to it. :)
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