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. 

Resilience

This image was selected as a picture of the week on the Malay Wikipedia for the 1st week, 2010. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Thinking about my teenagers and how they are going to fair when they "launch" is a preoccupation of mine. How will they handle the inevitable emotional, physical, and psychological tests of life?  I recently read an article on the issue but as it relates to whole families.  The Family Stories That Bind Us
describes how Dr. Marshall Duke, a psychologist at Emory University and colleague Robyn Fivush tested their theory that family stories build resilience in children.  They created a series of 20 questions linked to their families and how history, good and bad, got communicated. The result was that the more children knew about family stories the better they did when they had to face difficulties.
 The questions about their families were simple, basic things. From the article, " Examples included: Do you know where your grandparents grew up? Do you know where your mom and dad went to high school? Do you know where your parents met? Do you know an illness or something really terrible that happened in your family? Do you know the story of your birth?"

Within the group of children that knew their family history, the best results for resilience came from those who told what Duke called, an oscillating family narrative.  The oscillating stories go like this,  "Dear, let me tell you, we’ve had ups and downs in our family. We built a family business. Your grandfather was a pillar of the community. Your mother was on the board of the hospital. But we also had setbacks. You had an uncle who was once arrested. We had a house burn down. Your father lost a job. But no matter what happened, we always stuck together as a family. ”

When I worry about the heartache, cruelty and suffering that is possible in the world and how it might brush up against my sons, what I'm really thinking is "do they have what it takes?"  Have I shared enough to help them understand that the good AND the bad don't last forever? Do they know that their family will be a constant in the midst of whatever success or failure comes their way?  As parents, as people, we need to retell the stories of resilience so that we can repeat history (in a good way). 

One Point In Time

English: Homeless man in New York 2008, Credit Crises. On any given night in USA, anywhere from 700,000 to 2 million people are homeless, according to estimates of the National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

4:00 AM in the car, driving on near empty streets north of Chicago.  9 degrees exterior temperature registers on the dashboard. I meet three other people who will make up my team for the National Point In Time Count of the homeless. We go out in the dark, frigid, early morning hoping that we will be unsuccessful in our mission.  None of us really want to find people sleeping outside in 9 degree weather. 

We spend three hours driving through parking garages, construction sites, and public parks.  We walk the embankments of the canals and then the suburban transit stations, looking in the stairwells and tucked away corners.  We pause at empty lots and look for cars with steamy windows or ones with ice on the inside of the glass.

We know that most people will try to ride the trains in the city, break into an abandoned building, or enter one of the crowded and intimidating emergency shelters in Chicago when it's this cold, but we keep looking.  Before our shift ends at 7am we find 2 men at separate train stations.  They both refuse to admit they are homeless and one won't talk to us at all. The station attendants know their routine though and mention an ATM lobby that one of them stays in overnight. The attendant explains that the one man stands at the bank of public phones, pretending to make calls and looking busy as  the commuters start coming through. We record the location but have nothing that will help us match this person with housing services sometime in the future. It is humbling, moving through a suburban landscape on the lookout for hiding places.  So many people that know they must be quiet, out-of-sight, or undetectable or lose their spot.

Later that morning I talk with one of the men in the homeless drop in program at the agency where I work. I ask him if he will answer the survey for the Point In Time count. "Where is the last place you lived before becoming homeless?

He had to go back seven years before he remembered, "I used to have a place working with construction. They let me stay in the buildings as soon as the walls went up. Sometimes they let me do day labor. They paid me $25/day. There wasn't any electricity or water though."  He and his friend stayed on the train during the night and have been homeless for so long that anything that has a roof and windbreak is considered housed. For seven plus years he's been figuring out how to be safe and survive and make it through the 9 degree nights. 

Walking in someone else's shoes. It will get you every time.

A Year In Review

I started this blog just under a year ago and took a walk down memory lane today, reviewing some of the thoughts and experiences that I decided to share here.  It's been strange to watch which posts become popular or resonate with "you" and which ones seem to fall flat.  The one that started it all, Little Men was a reflection on my son, on parenting, and a chance to feel wise about the hazy grind of raising toddlers.  The picture in this post will always be etched in my brain, my own Tom Sawyer painting the fence post image.

One that didn't actually get noticed much but that I found hilarious was Emergency , a humorous look at my younger son's trip to the ER and the constant struggles to discern when an emergency is actually an emergency and when I'm just being an irresponsible parent.

I dabbled for awhile with a writing prompt on other parents' questions/issues called "Asking the Village".  The one about when to leave our kids home alone was typical of my effort - a mix of what I had actually done and a recognition that there were lots of other approaches that could work too.  The title of the blog, This Will Be On the (Parenting) Test, was always meant as a poke.  None of us get to fully prepare or practice for parenting and yet we frequently assume that we are failing the tests that come every day.

Some of my posts became less and less about parenting and more about living in a very general sense.  A Season for Everything, Secure Your Airmask First, and Found Treasure were moments where I shared out loud some of my own emotional churnings, not specific to being a mom.

As I look back, I realize that some of my posts are time capsules for my sons. Minotaurs and Werebunnies, Dollar Store Wealth, or #!?&*%! Moments are pieces that I want to save for my kids to read when I am no longer a daily presence.  They are little snippets of my voice inserted in specific events of their childhood.  It isn't all cookie dough and kisses but a real life sample of my good and not so good days.

And some of my posts were leaps of faith where I shared some of my political or social perspectives.  These were always harder for me because I didn't want to alienate anyone. I wanted to create a space where the different approaches and perspectives could be honored.  ISAT Testing , Let's Talk Anyway , and If This Is Wrong, I Don't Want To Be Right were attempts at being both honest about my own opinions while still respectful of very different ones.

I'm not sure what 2013 will bring to my writing.  I've toyed with the idea of changing the title since my focus seems to be less focused on parenting, specifically. It's clear that I don't have the amount of time and commitment that's required to become a notable blogger. For that reason, I am grateful for the encouragement that does come.  I can't fully explain it, but just knowing that you are reading, pushes me to stay engaged and the writing definitely helps me to be more present. 

Wishing you abundance and the awareness to see when it is present!

-eltee

Humility - Is it Possible Anymore?

020/365 united we stand... (Photo credit: Joits)

There's been a big pause since my last post.  It's been a busy time for me at my job and quite honestly,  I  wasn't sure what to write about the election. It was the only thing on my mind for awhile but I didn't know how to talk about it here. Now that the ballots are counted though, I do have two thoughts that keep swirling in my head - humility and concern.

Obama and Romney were in a near tie for the popular vote.  Even in the most Republican or most Democrat controlled outposts there was still a respectable contingent voting for the opposing party. (Yes, Virginia, there are Republicans in Chicago.) In theory, whomever wins an election will be making decisions based on the needs of people who voted for and against them. Our leaders may get financed by a specific party but when they arrive in office they are the public servant for everyone. Right?  That's what we say.

Public service to a whole country or state requires genuine concern. True public servants ask questions about what the people need.  The concern, if pursued, demands humility, the deep understanding that none of us knows it all. Is humility possible anymore? Humility requires that we listen to the experiences of others to better inform our limited experiences. 

I've always lived in urban areas and in my circle of friends, growing up, were people who had been injured on their jobs in the Gary steel mills.  Government controls like the Environmental Protection Agency or OSHA (Occupational Safety and Health Administration) were just "givens" in my mind.  Everything those agencies did was necessary and important and valued, in my experience.  I was taken aback when I visited rural New York and talked with folks who were small business owners.  They were struggling to absorb the expensive testing and safe disposal fees for their auto body shop.  The same laws that protected one set of my friends were bankrupting others.  I still felt that workplace safety was important but now I better understood the financial impact of those policies and how the issues were so much more complicated.

I hear alot about the need to cut the deficit and have family members who are frustrated about the amount of government supports for the poor. In my own job however, I work with an organization serving the homeless.  I know that ignoring the needs of the poor, regardless of your value system, is expensive to society.  Homeless prevention funding has been reduced dramatically and yet $3,000 in prevention costs, money that keeps a family from ever becoming homeless, can save the community up to $50,000.  Cutting the budget in the area of social services often means more people incurring expensive emergency room care, police costs, and prison expenses for the taxpayers.

The issues are always like this - complex, nuanced, and not served very well by hyperbole and name calling.
The time for sound bites is over for now.  We need to move our conversations to a more productive and less condemning place.  With a little bit of humility and the willingness to listen to another's perspective, we might just have a chance to talk about solutions instead of blame. We might be able to improve our problems a small fraction instead of worrying about being 100% "right".  We need to practice that lost art of conversation and teach the kids in our life about it as well.  If we do, maybe we'll raise a few future public servants that actually know how to think about all of us.

Facing Our Fears - Ghouls, Goblins, and the Grim Reaper

 If you're lucky, during the month of October, hayrides, apple picking, or pumpkin carving may help you balance the flow of horror movies and zombie costumes. Halloween brings scary images and lots of twisted notions of death.  Many of the scary creatures that fill our terror reels are those who have refused to die quietly, think Dracula, Frankenstein, zombies, and ghosts. There is one custom that we have in our family that comes on the heels of Halloween that helps put the ghouls and goblins into perspective for me - All Souls Day.  The day after the ghosts and brides of Frankenstein are sufficiently sedated in their sugar crashes, we reflect on the afterlife in a much more happy, appreciative, and tender way and in a way that does not involve any fake blood or fangs.  We incorporate the Day of the Dead rituals, creating a time for personal remembering of our loved ones who have died.  A photo, a representative token, and a candle for each person is laid out on our dinner table. Some flowers from the garden for my mom, a Lutheran hymnal for my husband's mom, a deck of pinochle cards for my grandfather - the backdrop for our stories. 

Day of the Dead Altar (Photo credit: JenniferAnn.org)

Neither of our boys ever met our moms but on All Souls Day they'll hear how mine could find a song for any conversation.  We'll eat waffles, a frequent Sunday dinner option that my husband's mom was fond of making. Over time,we've added others to our memory meal and the boys now take more of a part in the storytelling.  They'll remind each other of the great grandmothers that they visited in the nursing homes, fighting over who could push the wheelchair. We'll hear again about cooking meals for all the farm hands and my godmother who wanted to take us to the new Mexican restaurant that she'd heard all about and then drove us into the Taco Bell parking lot.  There will be laughter and sadness and comfort.  Solace, reassurance, peace.  These are the gifts that come to me on All Souls Day.

It's a mistake to let ourselves and certainly our kids believe that death is the Halloween version of the black cloaked Grim Reaper.  It's a mistake to hide from the real feelings of loss and grief and pretend that we can only confront them with a literal mask. Facing our fears about death means that we can do more than mock it one day a year. We can remember and embrace. I encourage everyone to make up your own altar or create a way to honor your loved ones.  Here's a prayer that we share together at the very start of our All Souls Day ritual:

At the rising of the sun and at its going down We remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and the chill of winter We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of autumn We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live; for they are now a part of us, as we remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength
We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart We remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make We remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live; for they are now a part of us, as we remember them. 

- Jewish prayer of remembrance

If This Is Wrong, I Don't Want to be Right

Christ Church Lutheran (Minneapolis), designed by Eliel Saarinen. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I had the most fabulous weekend!  We had a family road trip to Minneapolis and attended the wedding of my husband's college roommate.  The rehearsal dinner was in the couple's backyard with amazing food, prepared by friends and fellow farmer's market organizers.  There were funny and touching toasts from the families and friends who had traveled from out of town to celebrate the wedding.  A slide show played, following the couple from their own separate childhoods to their present shared life. Nieces and nephews and the children of dear friends climbed trees, juggled, chased the chickens in the backyard coop, and got piggy back rides from the teenagers.

It was a full blown celebration of a life filled with genuine caring and passion.  This couple is loved because they have loved so deeply.  They have been loyal and tenacious in difficult times.  They have encouraged and organized to bring out the best in the people in their lives.  One is an environmental lawyer and the other a social worker.  They've joined causes and campaigns. They've looked up and out, instead of allowing others to define what is possible.  The twinkling lights in the trees and in the little votives on the tables, the laughter, and hugs, and even the apple cake with rum sauce (a recipe from great grandma) were all evidence of their life well lived.  We were all anxious for the next day and the real celebration of their marriage. 

The service at the Lutheran church where they attend was filled with meaning and intention like no other.  Their individual pastors from childhood were present (!) and shared prayers with the congregation during the service.  My husband and one of the nieces played music.  Other friends from school sang Ode to Joy in German in honor of the role that German Language Village played in their college years.  Impossibly cute and squirmy 5 and 7 year old nephews were the ring bearers and the church was awash in sunflowers from the farmer's market.  Their minister's sermon during the service spoke to all of the important pieces of their life and it was clear that she knew them well.  Her sermon was no generic wedding template.

The church was packed with about 300 guests and a reception followed in the courtyard.  Individual food trucks catered the outdoor party.  Our friends wanted to support the farmers and food trucks that also regularly served the farmer's market.  Locally grown food from small farms were well represented the whole weekend.  At every turn, their friends were supporting the wedding, serving as waiters, dish washers, bartenders, and janitors.  At 10pm the happy couple had left the church and friends and family lingered with the church staff to prepare the space for worship the next day.  We were exhausted and overjoyed.  More than anything I just felt so damn lucky.  I left Minneapolis thinking of all the ways I wanted to infuse my own marriage and family with some of their intentionality, commitment and passion.

As you might guess, this long description is not without a punchline.  During this most idyllic weekend, there was one single cloud that hung over the otherwise picture perfect postcard.  Their wedding will not be legally recognized in Minnesota.  It was two grooms who stood at the altar and as a result all of their religious faith, family loyalty, civic engagement, and love for one another is currently deemed "radical", "not the same as" or for some, quite unbelievably to me, "perverse".  My friend had an editorial in the Star Tribune the morning of his wedding day that spoke to the issues and served as the inspiration for my thoughts here.

For anyone who knows our friends, they know that their marriage as a same sex couple will not ruin the state of marriage for heterosexuals.  The only danger that their marriage poses is to raise the bar higher for the state of matrimony. 

A Lesson in Independence

My youngest son broke his leg this summer.  I quickly dove into a low level panic.  What would he do for three weeks, unable to unicycle, run, do gymnastics or enter his tennis camp?  What would/could I do to keep this very active, wonder boy couch bound?  I flashed on his extreme and sometimes upsetting behavior before I figured out that he just desperately needed physical activity in his life to find emotional balance. It turned out that I worried too much.  The cast came off yesterday and he weathered the sedentary lifestyle for three weeks just fine.  All of us, even his brother, walk away from these past weeks unscathed.  He in fact, did not completely lose it and start hurling verbal and physical bombs nor did he start going negative on himself.

What he did do was insist that he do everything for himself the entire time he was on crutches.  Thirsty? He grabs a glass of water, sucks it up to his face and "carries" it hands free while he maneuvers the crutches around the dog and floor rug obstacles.  Hungry? He decides to slide his bum across the house and make a sandwich, doing pull ups to the counter and then balancing on one leg, practicing a complex yoga move. He carries it back to the couch in one hand while he hops on one foot to his spot in the living room.  I got so frustrated with him.  "Let me help you!!! Are you trying to break the other leg?"  He of course would just smile and reassure me, "I can do this."

He figured out that what he likes just as much as being physical is a challenge.  He likes to try new things and test himself.  He also likes to be self-reliant.  A unicycle is fun and unique.  But balancing a plate in your mouth while hopping and dodging a darting dog - that's a really noteworthy effort!  His cast is off and he still has to use the crutches for a while longer.  The past three weeks have been a great lesson for me.  My son wants to be strong and independent.  I'll still try to take care of him and help him (especially when he's carrying plates in his mouth) but I never want to be the one crippling him in any way.  He wouldn't let me even if I tried.

Aunt Orpha - Honest Inspiration

I'm one of many family members, gathering for the memorial of my husband's Aunt Orpha.  She was a sister in an extremely large, Norwegian family, a mother to two daughters and four sons, an active church lady, a volunteer for multiple social service/justice organizations, and of course a dear friend.  It will be a good time to remember her and I'm looking forward to hearing more stories and testimonies - people speaking the truth in love about her life.

Speaking the truth in love, for me, means that she will be remembered as a full person.  A woman who was amazing and generous and committed to meeting the basic needs of others whenever she could.  A woman who was raised up in the rural Midwest and traveled the globe as an adult.  A woman who loved a bargain, finding a great set of dishes for a new refugee family at the neighborhood garage sale.  And truth in love,  a woman who would buy that set of dishes (cuz it's such a great bargain) ignoring the fact that her basement and garage held countless other sets of dishes already.  Cleaning out her home was a hard and sometimes frustrating activity.

It's important to remember the whole person so that we don't bestow protected sainthood upon our loved ones.  To see someone as wonderful AND flawed means that we can be wonderful AND flawed too.  Orpha wasn't a perfect anything.  None of us are.  I want to be like Aunt Orpha though, leaving this world and the people I meet with a little more kindness, love and compassion.  She did that with the same over the top results as her garage sale buying. May our own failings be overshadowed by our goodness.

Let's Talk Anyway

Here are two completely separate interactions that happened to me this week that have me churning.  The examples I'm going to give are two moments that took place in one day and smashed up in my mind but they are not unique or unusual. Let me know what you think.

First, a lovely get together with a friend who I haven't seen in a long time (except in Facebook land) and she asks me about writing this blog.  She admits that she saw the title and figured that as a single woman without children it wouldn't hold much interest or might even feel like a little pinch of salt on a sore spot.  I cringed, realizing that the very title of the blog had felt like an exclusionary clause to someone I like quite a lot.

Second, scanning some Facebook updates I see a relative remarking pretty harshly about the President and longing for his days in office to end soon.  I read the remarks and recoiled.  We like each other.  Just last month we were together face-to-face and sharing some important stories and experiences.

So, I'm thinking about how I listen to others. Do I speak honestly or defensively? Do I avoid people who I know will have a different point of view?  Are there ways that I could show myself to be more open to others?  Am I allowing myself opportunities to be challenged or taught by another?

Because here's the thing, I'll just be very blunt.  I can't afford to draw lines in the sand based on who's "with me".  If I decided to only talk with family members who were going to vote for Obama like me, I'd have maybe a handful of family left, including third cousins twice removed.  If I could only find wisdom from people who shared my spiritual beliefs, I might only have my own counsel to turn to - not a great option.

Here's the reality, we do like and love a ton of people who we don't completely understand. I had my four siblings with me a couple weeks ago and not one of us shares the same spiritual practices or lifestyle as one of the others.  We are incredibly different.  And yet we talk anyway.  We may get misunderstood and feel hurt sometimes but we aren't writing each other off and we're certainly not calling names or labeling each other as "them" or "those people".  In the big picture, I'm going to try and carry these thoughts with me, even into this crazy election season.  I'm a 46 year old, white, mom, who's voting for Obama.  Let's talk anyway.

Getting and Staying Inspired

Today was one of those full on jumble of LIFE days.  I was at a conference which turned out to be very useful (always a bit of crap shoot). While there I ran into an acquaintance from a very turbulent time in my life, turbulence not from him but from shared connections that we had.  We talked quite a bit and when we parted I was grateful for the visit, even though it picked a little of the protective scab that I'd created for that time, right off.  During the day I was receiving multiple texts and voice mails from my children who were out of school and another set from family far away who were updating me on the shocking and difficult final hours of a very dear and special aunt.  Letting go of past hurts, approving unicycling trips for my son, hearing almost hourly details of the heart wrenching decision to remove artificial life support, and of course taking notes on how to "Develop A Communication Plan", all left me feeling pretty connected to life and what is important to me and also frazzled.

When I finally got home and checked my email, the day was refreshingly and beautifully capped with a note from a friend and fellow blogger which was quite unexpected.  Jennifer's blog, 1voice4peace was truly my first inkling that expressing myself honestly and being vulnerable, might be good for me to pursue.  She pushed me to look beyond the first impression or easy, popular opinion and look instead with a more quieted mind.  She inspired me to live out my personal values and convinced me that caring about peace and the earth and conscious living was what "all the cool kids were doing".  The note from her was a link to her blog where she announced that she was passing the "Inspiring Blog Award" on to me.

She described that as recipient of the award I would need to thank the one (her) who gave it to me, with a link back to her blog; list some things about myself that people wouldn’t know from reading my blog; and   nominate at least one other blog for the Inspiring Blog Award.

So, wow, huh.       

In true Jennifer fashion she managed to slow me down and redirect the course of my day.  Our days frequently get filled up with past hurts, minutiae, obligations, and other people's needs.  We can forget that finding sources of inspiration, cultivating them, and staying engaged with those people and things that inspire us, is our salvation.  I need to do a much better job of cultivating and finding sources of inspiration, especially in this blogging community.  The one person that I do follow religiously and who is a constant source of support is Christine at Random Reflectionz.  The interesting thing about reading her blog is that she rarely writes about anything that I would have thought about that day.  I've read about politics, philosophy, spirituality, and infertility but also about, Korea and chimps.(!?) I never know what her topic will be but she's always smart and thoughtful and connects me to other resources that she's reading.  She also literally inspires me to write more by her kind words of encouragement, sharing my blog with friends, and giving me that blue thumbs up on Facebook on a regular basis.  I've also learned a lot about blogging stuff from her, so thanks Christine!  The Inspiring Blog Award is officially placed upon your laptop with much gratitude.

In terms of things you wouldn't have known about me from reading my blog... I kinda put it all out there.  Favorite color is green.  I wear Birkenstocks almost exclusively since having foot surgery.  I eat Nutella with a spoon.  Feel inspired yet?

Out in the World

My youngest son had a big field trip this week.  His class drove down to Springfield to tour the capital, Lincoln themed sites, and meet the governor(!).  This child is a wonder mix of 1/2 part goofball and 1/2 part conscientious, passionate advocate.  Some in our family think of him as an annoying eco-terrorist.  That's an extreme description but he definitely can get on a soapbox and argue fiercely for what he believes is important.  Using as little electricity as possible, not wasting food, water, and other resources, humane treatment of animals (like not eating them), and gardening are big topics for him.  He's also the boy who juggles and unicycles for exercise for hours at a time and is fond of using quirky catch phrases to communicate, often leaving the person that he's talking to confused and unsure if he is making fun of them or is a little "touched" himself.  He will greet you with, "Happy Birthday!", just because and respond to every other comment you make with, "Cool Beans!".

Illinois Governor Pat Quinn addresses attendees before the opening of the 2010 Chicago Green Festival (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Like I said, he's a wonder mix.  You can perhaps imagine my mild concern about him traveling to Springfield and being given an opportunity to speak to the Governor.  I trusted that his teachers were just as aware as I about his charming and disarming qualities and would do what they could to stand near him, perhaps keeping a chloroform drenched rag in their back pocket when they were visiting the Governor's mansion.

The day in Springfield started at 5am as the 7th  graders loaded onto the buses (with a bathroom and seats that reclined!) and they did not return until 11pm.  He burst through the door late that night and exploded with excited memories of the day.  Starting with food (always) and how great Subway is, transitioning to the great movie in the Lincoln museum and how it blew his mind with the funky 3-D effects, and how he sold his chips to a fellow student and found some coins on the street, turning the trip into a moneymaking endeavor.  Finally he started to talk about their time with the Governor.  I kept a calm, interested expression, trying to mask my anxiety about what he might soon be sharing.  He wasn't returned to us with a police escort so I had that fact to reassure me.

"Oh! I asked the Governor a question!"

I smiled.  Here it comes.  "What was that?"

"I asked him if he had any new ideas about how to take care of all the people that couldn't afford housing any more and how to tax the 1% more.  He didn't even answer the question!(?).  He just talked about something else that he wanted to say.  It wasn't even about what I asked.  His assistant was cool though.  He told us fun things about the mansion.  I told him he was cool beans."  Whew.  He did it.  Completely himself - challenging, quirky, charming, funny, and completely "out there" and also respectful and appropriately deferential when necessary.  He backed off the Governor when he evaded his question, something he wouldn't have done at the dinner table with his family members.  He was out in the world, successfully synthesizing his values and personality traits with our lessons on "proper" public behavior and courtesy.  I was very proud of him.  He's going to be ok, I thought - Happy Birthday!

Drugs and Alcohol - What Would You Do?

A Kranz (wreath) of Kölsch beer. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was visiting with another mom yesterday and she asked me about teenagers and drinking.  "You've got teenagers.  What are your rules about drinking?  I have a friend who tells her kids it's simple, 'You can't do anything in our house that is illegal in society.'  I don't know that it's that black and white for me."  As a parent with a 13 and 15 year old, I feel like I should have had  a ready answer for her.  As with most things though, I make things up as I go and so far legal or illegal altering substances have not been an issue with our kids.

As we talked further, I realized that I have shared some real life opinions on the topic of drugs and alcohol.  When the boys were very little and riding the bus with me, I would make sure that they understood the likely reason why someone was being so strange, rude, or scary.  I remember describing how using drugs and alcohol doesn't mean the person is bad but rather that we couldn't predict their behavior.  I detailed how one of my favorite uncles had a drinking problem and how different he was sober vs. drunk.  I've also come home and openly shared about my sadness for a resident at the shelter - a person who is funny and smart and kind but who can't get a decent job.  He got involved with drugs when he was young (19) and a felony charge has followed him ever since.  At age 48, a moment of poor judgement still defines his opportunities.  They also see a bottle of wine on our counter on a daily basis.  They know that there is a difference between drinking, being drunk, and being an alcoholic.

As I talked with my friend, I realized how I rarely (as in three times, at weddings) saw my parents drink.  Alcohol was never a part of meals or celebrations.  I saw abstinence as a model and I vaguely heard about alcoholics.  I don't know if I would have made better choices in my late teens if the model in my home had been different.  I do know that when I first started drinking, it was unhealthy.  There were moments where my life could have been permanently damaged because of the choices I made and the situations I put myself in while "altered".  It's not how I want things to be for my boys.  Is it possible to prepare our teens for drinking in a safer way?  Is there anything we can do to prevent the excess and experimentation and subsequent risk?

Is it enough to say, "It's illegal so I won't condone it in my house/presence?"  We spend so much time teaching our kids about life, sharing skills, imparting values, and guiding their choices.  It doesn't feel consistent to leave this part of their life to some fraternity or sports team.  And yet, am I sending a message that the rules should be ignored if I allow for a drink at the dinner table?  Am I assisting their entrance into adult activity before they are ready?  Help me out here.  What have you done?  What are you planning to do?  What do you wish someone had done for you?  HELP!

Sacred Community

The Book of Mormon English Missionary Edition Soft Cover (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Last night I told my husband that I want to become Mormon.  As part of my job, I visit with different school, civic and faith communities, talking about the work of our organization and seeking support for that work.  Last night I met with a group of parents from a neighborhood block club and then went to talk with a women's group at a Mormon church on the North Shore.  It was my first time inside a Mormon church and based on the things that I had read, I wasn't sure what to expect. 

I walked in to what looked like a very nice community center.  My host told me that most Mormon churches have a similar simple design, "Our buildings are built more for utility than decoration.  We like to have a good gymnasium and meeting rooms."  I liked that.  A church built for activity.  When I met with the women they had incorporated into their meeting a time for service.  They were all asked to bring laundry detergent for the transitional shelter that we operate and they were busy measuring it into little baggies that we could distribute to individuals.

There were young women in their early 20's, pregnant women in their 30's and others who were 60+.  It was a group that had made a commitment to cook dinner once a month for our shelter, for the last 21 years.  I spoke and they asked great questions and I left with multiple offers from them to do more in the future.  I left the building and was immediately hungry for that community in my own life.  The sacred community that calls me to be my best self, most generous self, most intentional self.  The sacred community that asks me to think about others, not just the people that live in my own home.  The sacred community that cares for it's babies and it's elders and holds everyone in between.  The sacred community that serves as a safety net and extended family for "their own" and a welcoming hand for the stranger.  I miss it all.

Unfortunately, there are some deal breaker parts for me regarding the Mormon church, their rejection or unwillingness to offer the full sacred community to LGBT  member being the most profound.  I am grateful to have been with those Mormon women and to be reminded of the amazing gifts that intentional community offers.  I know that I need to find or create it again in order to feel full or whole - it's just who I am. 

Protecting Our Kids or Ourselves?

A very dear uncle died this weekend and family members are gathering to be together for his service.  It is a sad time and a confusing time.  I remember when my children were very young, several aunts and uncles as well as my grandfather and grandmother died.  Each time we would have numerous people tell us that the boys didn't need to be at the funeral home or burial.  A few people actually gave us a judgmental  once over, saying that it wasn't really a place for kids.  At the time, I just knew in my heart that I wanted them to be a part of all the different aspects of family life and of love.  I also knew that they would largely be witnessing grief and pain, not feeling it deeply in a personal way.  They didn't have super close ties to the people who had died, except through me or my husband.  They were there for two reasons: 1. They were part of the family and, 2. In a semi-calculated way, I  knew that I wanted them to be able to have these experiences with people they weren't so close to.

I know that some folks think that we should try to protect our kids from the cruelty and harshness of the world, that we should let them be kids and shelter their childhood  for as long as possible.  In some ways I agree.  I think we should keep violent movies and games as far away, for as long possible.   We should protect our children from abstract pain and suffering, but not from the real life grief that comes when we lose our loved ones.  

When my grandmother was very close to the end of her life, we traveled to visit her as a family.  She was in a nursing home for the first time in her life and it was hard for me to see her there.  I wasn't sure what to say to her or how much she was understanding or remembering.  We walked around the halls with her and took her for a stroll outside on the grounds.  I was flashing on past visits with my grandmother and all the corny jokes and puns she would use, all the little craft projects that she had given me.  I was filled with sadness and regret that I hadn't seen her more over the years.  My two young boys were more quiet in the nursing home than at our own house but they were not nervous around her.  The problem came when they both wanted to be the one in charge of steering her wheelchair.  It turned out that it wasn't them that needed protection but my sweet grandmother.  She had a 7 and 9 year old ready to play tug-o-war with her. 

We don't need to hide our feelings for fear of scaring our kids. The intuitive little buggers will figure it out anyway.   In some of these painful moments it can be hard to be so vulnerable in the presence of our children but how else is it that they will they learn empathy?  We might be scaring them more by pretending that everything is "fine". 

The Project

Image via Wikipedia

I sit here typing with the telltale signs of my least favorite part of parenting displayed all around me.  The dining room table (and floor) is a mess of books, paper scraps, and colored construction paper.  One large display board sets it all off, mocking me from it's perch in the living room.  Tomorrow is the deadline for my seventh grader's history fair project.  It used to be that we just had to deal with science fair (which I loath even more than history fair).  Now the stress and anxiety come twice a year. 

Tonight is the night.  There is usually some last minute drama, often related to a small logistical detail to which I never paid any attention.  "On the third paragraph of the summary statement, underline all the words that relate back to your hypothesis.  Make sure that all photographs are labeled in italics and placed in the left corner of the display board."  I'm of course being fictitious.  It's not that hard for me to understand the details of their teacher's requests.  My problem is me.

It's very important to me that my kids learn how to be responsible and be able to handle themselves, take care of the stuff that is their business.  I don't hover.  I ask if their homework is done and when I'm able, I answer questions.  That's pretty much what I offer.  When they were in second and third and maybe even fourth grade, I would offer to help type up their essays for school.  Mostly because I wanted to use the computer before the next month had passed and their own typing was so slow it verged on torture.

So, during science and history fair preparation my values butt up against my sanity.  Do I correct all the typos, grammar mistakes, weird phrasing, and undocumented facts or do I encourage them to check their work again and let the quality of their own effort be reflected in their grade?  Do I let them struggle with the typing and the making of charts when it would take me half the time?  I know that other parents are probably going to help out (does a 7 yr old really know how to run those color graphs with the attached video feed?).  Am I really just putting my kids in an unfair situation - being compared to students who have a design team from their parents pr firm offering support?  As is the case with so many of my dilemmas, they are rooted in my real values vs. my own adult fears of judgement.  I don't want them to turn in a project that isn't really theirs but I also hate the idea of their tilted, glue smudged display standing next to the matted, black and white photographed project, all printed on archival quality paperstock.

In the end, I am going to do what I've done the last seven years.  Tonight, I will brace myself.  I will be calm and wipe away any tears of frustration that may come.  I will model deep breathing and patience.  I will affirm and encourage.  And maybe, just maybe, quietly suggest that the summaries should be glued neatly onto the board instead of the "pin the tale on the donkey/willy-nilly" alignment that is my son's preferred method.  He will turn it in, even though I know that I would do it differently.  He will get a grade that provides relief or frustration and that grade will be all his.

What Will They Remember?

My brother follows my thoughts in this blog, which is absolutely wonderful since we're so far away from each other.  Anyway, he just wondered aloud about what his children are going to take from the parenting style/choices that he and his partner have chosen.  Stay tuned!  In about 10-15 years you might have the hint of an idea as to the answer.  As soon as I saw his question I realized that this is the thing that plagues us - no immediate affirmation that what we are doing is going to achieve our objectives.  If I give X amount of chores for them to do, will it build a strong work ethic and sense of responsibility or will it turn them against me and increase their desire to be couch potatoes?  If I maintain the expectation that they continue their music lessons am I teaching perseverance and commitment or am I setting up a scenario for rebellion and eventually a full out music boycott?  If I hold out and don't buy the most recent gaming system am I helping them develop their own creativity and holding the wave of adult like influences at bay or am I merely setting up a scenario where they over indulge when they are at their friend's house and ensure that they never want to invite their friends over to our place (we don't have enough cool stuff)?  Ugh!

The list of these queries is long, perhaps endless.  I do know that I feel slightly better when I am able to describe the values that are driving our choices.  I also feel better and feel like there is the possibility of lasting impact, when I know that I'm consistent with my behavior and there's.  For example, when the boys were little, I would tell them to get out and exercise, enjoy the fresh air, get away from the t.v.  If the value and life lesson that I wanted them to remember was physical health and active living then I should have shared that message from somewhere else other than the couch.  A couple of years ago, I started going to the gym on a regular basis and invited my youngest son to be my gym buddy.  That was a great turning point in our relationship.  It turned out that he could hold me accountable to what I said was important AND I got to interact with him using our bodies and just being together instead of a bunch of talky talk.  Similarly, our boys are both very sensitive to other people and pretty appreciative of what they have in life.  I know and they have confirmed this for me, that it is a result, in part, of them having two parents who work in social services.  We've invited them to volunteer in a variety of ways since they were 4 or 5.  They also see us caring about other people in little ways, donating to causes that are important to us, bringing food to sick friends or shoveling the walk for our elderly neighbor. 

We talk about our values.  We live them out in visible, real ways.  We invite them to live them out with us.  We still don't know what all will "stick" with them but we can rest easier knowing that we weren't hypocritical or offering mixed messages.  They will very likely live out what we try to teach in ways different from us. They can make different choices and still retain the values that we shared. I firmly believe that what we do has just as much impact, if not more, than what we say.   Arrested Development has a song that I LOVE called, "Mama's Always On Stage".

"Words of wisdom should be ways of wisdom!
That's exactly how u must walk.
Life's too short your missions too dire.
Nurture another mind before yours expires.
...But mama don't sleep your lifes a turnin' page mama's
always on
stage!"        (By Speech)

They are watching, learning and remembering.

Asking the "village" - Home Alone

Home Alone (film) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I loved hearing from people about my question, "What's on your parenting test?"  It confirmed my assumption, which is always gratifying, that our concerns are similar and that by talking honestly, we could all start to feel better about our choices.  Enough thoughts were shared that I will use it as a theme for the week.  Here's today's - leaving kids home alone.  When is the right time?


The question was specifically worded this way,   "My biggest concern is I just don't feel ready. If something were to happen I think I would blame myself for letting them stay home alone when they weren't ready or too young. Our daughter is 11 and our son is 10 and she is probably mature enough and responsible enough that I wouldn't have any concerns. He definitely is not ready which brings up all the competition and fighting they get into when anything isn't fair or equal. If she can stay home "IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!!" if he can't."

First off, I realized (after the fact) that there were actually rules about kids being left alone in my state, so check that.  No need to worry about sibling rivalry if you should really worry about the Department of Children and Family Services showing up at your door.  Next, it was helpful for me to sort out my fears about strangers breaking in hurting my kids and my fears of my own children setting the house on fire, hurting themselves, or just not being confident enough to go to a neighbors house if they were scared.  Random violence is impossible to control for, in my opinion.  We can make ourselves sick about it but random is random.   Random has just as much chance of touching kids who are sheltered their whole life as kids who were raised by wolves. It's terrible and life-changing and if we only live our lives waiting for it to come, perseverating on that fear, then we have allowed "Random" to actually become a very predictable and routine presence. 

Thankfully, most of my fears were things that I could teach and that my boys could practice.  I think the Free Range Parenting movement is about teaching those independent living skills and teaching them earlier rather than later.  (Editorial note: I have not read the aforementioned book.  I did hear an NPR story on it once though.)  For me, my big fear and question was when to let my kids ride public transit by themselves.  Thankfully, we are a one car family so we had plenty of chances to ride the bus together.  Over time, our rides turned into lessons.  "You tell me when our stop is coming.  I'm going to read my book.  You're in charge."  The trick with that is that they really have to be in charge.  I had to be willing to overshoot our stop and have them problem solve the solution.  I also gave a lot of quizzes, "What do you think we should have done when that man who was screaming came on the bus?"

These choices are absolutely going to be unequal, child to child, but they don't have to be unfair.  Each person is capable of different things at different times.  If we have our list of the issues and values that are important to us - the things that our kids must agree to if we are to trust them alone, then we can have them practice that even when they are with us.  Using the phone to ask a neighbor a question, locking up the house for you when you leave for school, and following directions in general, are great litmus tests.  "I can't leave you by yourself if I can't see that you know how to handle yourself.  Show me."  That comment seemed to bring surprises.  They did know more than I thought.  When they realized I was paying attention, they could be more than just silly goofballs who were trying to make sibling arguing an Olympic sport.

Eventually, we all find a way to run to the store for some milk, and then maybe a lunch date in the afternoon, a dinner at night, and then one day, find our little ones are amazingly, in a regular schedule of after-school independence.  We figure it out.  We also get used to multiple calls at work or on our commute.  Calls that help reassure us, frustrate us, and maybe most importantly, calls that help fill the silence for our child, alone at home.

Asking the "village" - background check vs. gut check

This blog emerged, in part, because I felt like I needed a place to be honest about all this parenting and general life stuff.  We've been told to avoid politics and religion as conversation starters in mixed company, but for me the list was much larger.  School choices, chore schedules, organic food, fast food, sleepovers, and even Christmas presents are some of the innocent topics over which I have imposed self-censorship in some way or another.  If I'm honest, will the other parent think I'm judging them?  If I'm honest, will they judge me? One of my hopes for this blog is that those conversations might happen honestly.   If we are all honest we might find some comfort in the simple reality that we are all struggling with choices, filled with regret and pride, and doing our very best to care for our loved ones.

Yesterday, I asked you all what questions were on your "parenting test".  What are the choices that pick at you?  One response came that I'm calling the background check vs. gut check dilemma.  Here it is:

"I just had a question in my mind today and thought 'I wish I could ask other parents about this.' so here it is: We just moved and our new neighbors kid invited our son over to play and we just let him go to their house for a few hours. All I know about them is what the parents do for a living, that they have a dog, and they brought us cookies the first day we moved in. Shouldn't I have had the parents over for dinner or done some more investigating before I let our son go over there? Without overreacting and looking paranoid, how do we keep our kids safe in a world where even trusted teachers and family members end up hurting children?"

Now one way we could approach this is to recall all of the CSI/Criminal Intent/ER/Law & Order/ episodes we've watched and definitively respond that the world is a dangerous place beyond measure.  Therefore, you are stupid beyond measure to ever leave your child with someone who hasn't been thoroughly background checked and drug screened, checked for gun ownership and parental screens on their cable, and had the home scoured for violent video games and pornography.  If your kids are older, you can add checking for proof of any adult presence whatsoever and the size of their liquor cabinet. 

What I think actually happens, is that we ruminate on all of the stuff above and then give in to reality (how busy or tired we are or how embarrassed we are to ask our neighbor if they own guns) and let our children do many things that still leave us feeling nervous.  We are always going to be a little nervous.  What is important is that we pay attention to our gut.  When the next door neighbors handed over the plate of cookies and talked to us for 2 minutes, how did we feel?  Were there any immediate red flags?  Are our kids excited about the play date or quiet and anxious?

For me, the problem was the safety of the home and specifically hand gun violence.  I live in a big city and it seemed like a possibility that weapons might be present and in the hands of very nice, yet defense-minded people.  It also felt really gross to ask the parents of my kid's friends if they had guns in their home as a conversation starter.  My sons were excited to go visit, but I would feel like my worrying about other people's feelings was putting my kids in danger.  I did let them go to visit new people who were very, very new to me.  I also said "no" at times.  After picking up my son at one friend's house I spotted the little discarded nub of a joint on their porch. I assumed that it was not left by a postal carrier but never confronted the family about it. The kid wasn't a close friend so we just planned for their time together to be at school events or public places after that.

Here's the thing, if you do the gut check and you let your kids leave your sight without the level of screening that you think is ideal, it's not a permanent, set in stone, for all time decision.  We can't keep our kids safe from all bad things or bad people, but we can listen to them and their experiences and make adjustments based on that.  You are still going to talk about what they did at Johnny's house and evaluate how they behave when they return home.  You can still thank the family that first extended the invite by having them over for coffee or dinner and serving up your own batch of cookies - maybe in the shape of handguns and peace signs, just to help get the conversation going.

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?