Ditching

I am sitting at work today and receiving hourly text messages about my son's unexcused absences. Oops, he missed first period. Darn it, 2nd and 3rd he's nowhere to be found either! Truth be told, I stopped checking my phone, knowing that he wasn't running late. He was ditching.

In an unexpected turn of events, I gave him permission to ditch. My husband gave a very formal and clear commentary about his reservations, but ultimately agreed. Yes, son, you have our blessing to ignore the rules and go to the beach instead. The reason I caved so easily is simple. It's the end of the year and evidently instruction of any kind is no longer necessary. Our son has spent the last week watching movies in his classes. He finished his finals and brings a healthy pile of books to read, not Shakespeare or a literary classic, but World War Z or a David Sedaris collection.

When I was a kid...(can you just picture the eye rolling) we worked up until the last day, finishing off every possible workbook page, catching up on art activities or creative writing assignments. We did spend more time outside in recess and gym but I never once remember watching a movie, let alone in multiple classes. We set aside a part of each day in that last week to clean our classrooms. Monday might be the washing of all the desks, Tuesday return textbooks to storage, Wednesday thoroughly wash the boards and sweep the floor, Thursday remove all papers and projects from the classroom and take them home, Friday hang out and relax and see our teacher as a pretty nice person overall, while daydreaming about swimming and street carnivals. 

The last week of school, for me, was fun. We got to be more creative, more physical, and more interactive than we'd been allowed the whole rest of the year. We were excited for summer and for being done, and we were relieved to learn our subjects without a grade attached.  

Instead, my son's teachers are cleaning their classrooms by themselves. Since no more grades will be given there seems to be no need for learning.  Practicing what they've already learned and integrating it into their life when the standardized tests are completed, appears pointless. Why bother taking up frivolous pursuits like relay races, jam sessions, or fun trivia games?  Is it really possible that on a certain day in June, everything there is to know about creative writing, jazz, physics, or Spanish was mastered so fully that there was just nothing left to do?  Have we trained our kids to only want to learn if a grade, an assessment from outside of themselves is given? Yikes!  

When my son said he wanted to ditch his last day and go to the beach instead, I said "yes". For one, how could I not reward such an honest kid with such a great argument? Secondly, I figured a cardio workout on his bike coupled with an "in the field" exploration of the natural environs of the Great Lakes was more productive and educational. 

Zombies, the Apocalypse, and Resurrection

The Walking Dead (season 2) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I'm embarrassed to say that I like the terrifying and grotesque zombie apocalypse tv show, The Walking Dead. My teenage sons began watching and with every gasp and groan of disgust I found myself drawn closer to the screen.  Decaying flesh and gunshots to the head in a seemingly endless stream of blood and gore are not my usual thing. What keeps me intrigued are the choices that the survivors make and by survivors, I mean the non-zombies. The obvious analysis for the show's popularity is, in my mind, that we are already living like zombies or fighting zombie tendencies on a daily basis.

In some ways I am a terrible, terrible cliche. Middle aged woman, wife, and mom walking on a treadmill of routine, numbing myself with food and (zombie) tv - longing for something but not really working that hard for anything.  I don't mean this as a debbie downer rant.  Whether it is work or parents or children, at a certain age most of us begin looking outward to what other people need of us, instead of inward to our own still unmet desires and interests.  So when someone started talking to me about The Walking Dead as  insanity, and asked, "Who would really be fighting so hard to live in that type of world?", my unexpected reply was, "We're doing it right now, all the time."

My most recent attempt to stave off zombie cooties occurred over the past month (one of my excuses for not writing here), as I applied to an alternative certification program for urban teachers in high need schools.  More than one person said, or thought, "I never knew you wanted to be a teacher?!"  Either did I really.  It emerged after a conversation where someone asked me if I had ever thought about a different career and if I did, what would I be?  I said teaching, in part, because the presentations and teaching moments I have in my current job, I enjoy quite a bit.  As a test I believe, the universe plopped an advertisement for the alternative program in my email the next day.  Instead of giving in to my routine (zombieness), I ran from the zombies that were chasing me and towards the application, and then the interview, and then towards the preparation for the basic certification tests.  It was the scariest thing I have done in about 16 years (birth of my first son) and it was exhilarating. Unfortunately, this week I found out that I did not pass one of the pesky math exams which means I can not be in the 2013 cohort and begin training. It is disappointing but I am grateful for the experience.  It's like the whole, "it's better to have loved and lost", type of thing.  For the past month I was not a zombie. For the past month I was more than just someone running away from zombies.  In fact, I was listening to my gut and trying new things.  I was running towards a goal. I was walking towards resurrection.

My Spring Break

A little over  a week ago I did a very unusual and wonderful thing.  I took a vacation, by myself, to a place with palm trees.  I've never gone on a real spring break where you dip your toes in the surf and reacquaint yourself with the sun, in the middle of a midwest winter. (Except, I realize, just last year.)  In practice, it felt  decadent and fabulous and left me with just a few moments of guilt pangs.  The guilt over leaving my children and spouse behind in relentlessly grey Chicago, was overcome by my complete rejuvenation.  Who knew that natural vitamin D could change your attitude so much!?                                                                                                                                

All of my little concerns and frustrations remain but now I have the memory of a brilliant sunset, palm trees and pink succulents to balance out my funk.  I learned that sometimes it is good to just runaway and get a new perspective.  I remembered that when I take care of myself, everybody in my life ends up reaping the benefits and there's no guilt in that! Spoiling myself a little, surrounding myself with dear friends and taking a break from my normal responsibilities was exactly what I needed for a "reboot" to occur in me.




Take some time today for yourself. Really. Figure out a way to put yourself first.  One of my awesome days included a drive to San Diego, a bowl of margueritas with girlfriends, a palm reading from a psychic and a gorgeous drive watching the sunset. Mixed in was uninterrupted talks, gorgeous scenery and dark chocolate. We are all worth it. Whoever helps take care of people deserves to be cared for in return.  Do it!

Time is Flying

When I first started writing here, I began by reflecting on this early memory of my son helping his dad.  I talked about how we have to create ways to engage our kids and let them act big and important.  It was such a super cute moment, little boy with his little brush, and one super ugly, blank canvass to attack.  Whatever strokes he laid down on that garage door were going to help and the only thing that could really go wrong could be fixed with soap and water.  I miss those days.

Lately, I realize that I am more and more hesitant to encourage that former two year old's independence.  I'm spending more time thinking about all the messes that might happen if my sons "pick up the brush".  Bullying, random violence, troubled or stressed out friends, and just garden variety school pressure occupy my thoughts.  And more and more, I feel like all I can really do is worry.  I've checked, and I'm not allowed to lock them up until it's safe outside.  More and more, I feel emotionally torn between keeping them from the world and losing them to the world.  Choosing to either stunt their self-confidence and autonomy or release them to the possibility of real dangers.  Have I mentioned that I miss the toddler years?

I want to protect them from the friends that are cutting, desperately wishing that the depths of human pain won't be witnessed quite so soon.  I want to shelter them from the gangbangers looking to fulfill their twisted initiation rite - physical violence to another person, any person, as they wait at the bus stop.  I want to teleport them to a time past high school where their own ideas for themselves can be realized instead of the forced constructs of standardized tests telling them what is possible.  I could shelter them from the world, drive them everywhere, allow visits with friends only in our own home, and provide private tutors instead of public schooling.  They'd be safe(r).  The only problem with that scenario is that with that level of life experience, I envision them still living in our home, with me doing everything for them, well into their thirties.

So, instead I have this reality.  My son is still helping fix the garage except higher up and using power tools.  Just like here, I'm out of the picture but waiting down below, out of sight, picking up pieces of debris. Loving other people is gut wrenching.  Loving children is heartbreak, in all the good and bad ways you can imagine.

Bucket List

Film poster for The Bucket List - Copyright 2007, Warner Bros. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I talked with my friend yesterday and she asked if I might like to help her escort her dying aunt to one of the local riverboat casinos.  These are the type of conversation we have lately, ah to mid-life.  "Yes!"  is how I responded immediately. She seemed to not hear my excitement and continued to tell me how other family members weren't all that jazzed to accompany a woman in the final weeks of her life on a field trip to the penny slots. She warned me that we might also bring her aunt's friend who has Alzheimers and who would also need supervision. The riverboat casino was on her aunt's Bucket List and seemed like one of the easier activities to help realize.  I've never been to a casino.  I'm in!

I haven't created a Bucket List. I saw the movie with Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman but never took up the obvious project of making my own.  Part of my hesitation is that I'm just not all that creative about travel or adventuresome activities.  I kinda just go along and see what happens.  My friend's attempt to help her aunt transition out of this life is inspiring me a little.  I'm also currently listening to some talks from Pema Chodron, a Buddhist nun, and her words are in my mind.  At one point she asks a basic question.  If we know that death is certain and we also know that the time of death is unknown, are we doing the thing that we really need to be doing right now?  If you were to die right now, would you be ok with your life choices? The interesting thing about that question is that your answer could be that you want to eat chocolate cake or that you want to meditate. Both might make you feel more ready to let go of this world. Your answer probably isn't going to be that you want to be mean to someone or to yourself or that you want to watch more tv.  A lot of her comments are about how humans are trained to avoid pain and so seek pleasure or activities that will numb pain.  I'm not a heroin user but my tv habits often feel like anesthesia.

So, at long last I'm thinking about a Bucket List.  So far it includes: a wilderness camping trip, Hawaii, Alaska, a train through Europe, ball room dance lessons, an extended conversation in Spanish, building my own bookshelf (carpentry skills), and playing blackjack in a casino.  Some of these could be considered straight forward pain numbing, pleasure activities but most are ways to live consciously, actively, that is, as an actor in my own life.  Blackjack will get checked off the list in short order.  It's probably the easiest item on my new little list but I'm surprisingly excited to make one.  Numbing pain or living life fully - we can make the choices at any time in our life.

Space and Sharing

My post, Attachment Parenting, left me going down memory lane a bit.  I realized, as I looked back, that our early decisions to practice attachment parenting extended to many more intentional decisions even as our kids started to grow up.  Shared space in the form of a sling or a bed turned into a shared bedroom, shared toys, one family computer, and one television.  Interestingly enough, these very simple choices sometimes felt just as counter cultural as having a home birth.

For Christmas one year we made the earth shattering decision  to purchase a Game Boy for the boys.  It felt like a life changing moment for our family.  Choosing to buy only one and have both boys share it was our way of keeping our little team in balance.  I remember the day after Christmas when they told their friends what they had gotten.  I felt a twinge of guilt for not giving them each their own and then I heard my son say, "It's ok, cuz I'm good at the jumps and he's good at finding the treasures.  So we are going fast through the levels."

Pokemon and Game Boy of the past. (Photo credit: heath_bar)

Those stupid video games had them going to the store and negotiating which new game they would purchase, returning to trade old, conquered ones for a new challenge.  They needed to come to consensus on each acquisition or spend 100% of their own money on a game that they could only play when the other person was otherwise occupied. Even with our imposed limits they managed to be obsessed by the images on the four inch screen.  We were far from Amish and yet I still felt like I was out of the normal range of accepted U.S. parenting practices.  I felt out of sync because I was resisting the consumption driven culture.  How dare I not purchase as much as possible for my children.  How dare I make them wait for the latest game until they could buy it for themselves or find it used or for trade, 6 months later.

We bought the Game Boy because we wanted to do something special for our children. We wanted to indulge one of their kiddie desires. We minimized how much it could control our lives by insisting that our sons shared it and by limiting when they could use it - 10 hour car rides to South Dakota -YES!; parties at friends' homes - NO!  We aren't carrying them in a sling anymore but we are still trying to find ways that we can share space and stuff as a family.

It changes over time but there is always something, at every developmental age, that ends up forcing us to decide what is right for our family.  Now, there are nights when we are all within 10 feet of each other but on a different screen -, tv, computer, ipod.  I'm grateful that we decided to have the screens only on the first level of our house and I'm grateful that we have one tv that requires us to negotiate/talk/argue. Now that we have teenagers it feels like we are starting to reap the benefits of our families' counter cultural revolution.  I'm glad that we are still attached and sharing space.

Because I Said So

A game of tug of war (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

We've all had those moments when our child wants one thing, we want a different or the very opposite thing and as a result, become locked into a back and forth tennis match of opinion, then debate, then argument, then emotional meltdown. They're the ones where the phrase from childhood comes close to the surface.  You know the one, "Because I said so!"  We had one of those recently in our home and it raised a whole other question for me.  When or how do we allow our children to have their own ideas and opinions and still have parental authority?  Who gets to make the final decision on home issues when there are competing wants or needs?  I work pretty hard to give my kids opportunities to practice their own problem solving.  Communicating their feelings and the desires that come from those feelings is a good thing to me.  Being challenged to let go of something I want starts to feel more difficult.

I'm trying to create a home where children can figure out who they are as an individual AND be a respectful part of the family collective.  So what do we do when it feels like there can only be one way and someone is about to feel disregarded?  It can be simple stuff, one person is hot and wants the thermostat set low, the other is cold all the time and wants to crank the heat.  Other differences are much more significant and can end up feeling like a personal attack or rejection.  Our child's wardrobe, hairstyles, and choices of friends are all areas where child and parent  both feel like they should be able to weigh in and assert their opinion.  As much as I strive to let my guys make their own choices, there are plenty of moments where I pull them back with a tone of, "Try again, I'm not okay with that."  (Most of these conversations seem to happen as my youngest is walking out the door for school.)  Whenever possible, I try to let them be in control of their own choices.  I do that because I know there are going to be just as many times when they will have to defer to their parents or teachers.  There are an awful lot of "Because I said so." interactions for our kids.  It can be easier for them to swallow those if we let their interests and priorities win out sometimes too.

Murphy's Law

Metsu, Gabriel - Sick Child, the (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last week I had a major fundraiser for my job and unplanned travel to SD for a family funeral.  I travel again on Thursday, for a wedding at which I will see all four of my siblings.  There's a lot going on and I've had "short weeks" to get things done at work and to get things done at home.  So, since I have a long to do list with a tighter than usual schedule what do you think would be the obvious thing to have happen?  Murphy's Law.

My very healthy, optimistic leaning, go getter son is sick as a dog.  He is a pool of snot, hot with fever, NO APPETITE, and has a cough that makes it hard to breath.  He is a mess.  Being a high school student, he's also feeling an oppressive weight of homework starting to press on his chest.  We have to get him to the doctor not because there is going to be some miracle cure there (although I hope) but so that he can have an excused absence and not be penalized for having a flu bug.  I have to admit, I had a moment of "Why me?" frustration that surfaced.  I'm worried about my son and I'm worried about my own work load and how everything will get done before I leave again later this week.

The answer of course is that it won't.  Everything will not get done.  People will be let down and may even be annoyed with me.  Dishes will sit in the sink, clothes from our last trip may not all get put away.  It will be stressful wondering if I am choosing the right things to prioritize and the right things to postpone.  I can only worry about one thing at a time.  Take a number.  My son gets to be at the top of the list.  Everything else will get done...eventually, just not today.

ISAT Testing

Standardized Test (Photo credit: biologycorner)

ISAT testing takes place this week for my 7th grader.  For the public school kids in Chicago, this is a test that can steer their future in scary ways.  The standardized scores will be one of the factors that are used to determine who can even apply to be in the "good" public high schools in 9th grade.  My son is smart and is lucky to already be in a junior high that feeds into a good high school.  The intense pressure on his ISAT isn't as big an issue.

When I was a kid, taking the Iowa Basics, I used to see the tests as an interesting  bit of information, the score that told me how I matched up to all the other kids in the country.  I was fortunate enough that my scores were always a bit higher than the averages.  What would I have learned from the tests if I had scored lower than average?  If I look back on those scores and my adult success, I think there are an awful lot of things that never showed up in my IOWA score.  That in fact, have never been quantified.

I wish we could score our children on how emotionally expressive they are or how they show concern for other people.  Maybe we could come up with some questions on how to use your body to accomplish specific tasks or how to create an object that evokes a specific feeling.  Do you think there will be day when these tests, that determine which doors will open and which will close, will measure perseverance, humor, common sense, or kindness?  My son will take some tests this week.  They won't evaluate ANY of the things that make him so amazing.  His success on these tests and in school in general is important, because of the power that the tests have been given.  They are important because they can limit his opportunities and his own idea of himself.

Future employers, partners, friends, and neighbors want people who are engaging, likable, "play nice in the sandbox", are dependable, and honest.  School can test all they want but will never be able to evaluate what makes a person someone that you actually want to be with. 

A Time for Everything

There is an appointed time for everything. And there is a time for every event under heaven— A time to give birth and a time to die;          A time to plant and a time to uproot what is planted. A time to kill and a time to heal;          A time to tear down and a time to build up. A time to weep and a time to laugh;          A time to mourn and a time to dance. A time to throw stones and a time to gather stones;          A time to embrace and a time to shun embracing. A time to search and a time to give up as lost;          A time to keep and a time to throw away. A time to tear apart and a time to sew together;          A time to be silent and a time to speak. A time to love and a time to hate;          A time for war and a time for peace.- Ecclesiastes 3 Image via Wikipedia Regardless of our religious beliefs, the words from Ecclesiastes are common sense type wisdom.  Good and bad times will come and go.  We hope for more of the good than bad but have less control than we would like over the reality of that balance.  There are many things that we can control though.  Is it time for us to love? Or throw away? Heal or plant?  Is it time to give up something as lost? To speak? For me right now, I have to remember that I can't move through the world in one set gear.  I need to let go in some parts of my life and embrace in others.  Mostly I need to make enough space so that I can sit and reflect a little, every once in awhile.  Awareness needs to be cultivated, it doesn't just appear.

What's On Your Test?

Question mark (Photo credit: Ciccio Pizzettaro)

A quick question in lieu of a regular post, "What questions/issues are on your parenting test?"  I know what pecks at me, how about you?  How do you keep the self-doubt demons at bay?