Frankly, I'd love to know how the human mind copes with difficulties beyond comprehension.
We are just past the 8-year mark marking Finn's leukemia diagnosis. The week prior, I was restless, and I really didn't know why. That happens sometimes in the weeks preceding April 7 and the weeks preceding August 5 (last oral chemo). I must subconsciously feel that something is going on, but I can't really put my finger on it until I look at the calendar, and then I have a little 'aha' moment.
To tell you the truth, the same thing happens when we have the St. Baldrick's fundraiser. It's a great organization and a great event, and I will continue to support it wholeheartedly, but I get anxious as the actual event draws near each year. Reminders, you know.
Statistically, Finn had the most treatable form of leukemia, Acute Lymphocytic (or Lymphoblastic is what I hear more these days) Leukemia -- ALL. Of course, we are grateful beyond measure that what he had was so treatable.
But the fact of the matter is, there is a percentage of children who will die. Period. And yes, that still gives me sleepless nights after all these years. There is no use telling me to relax, that Finn has done well, that I have nothing to worry about. I am a mother. It is not a reflex that I can turn off (electroshock therapy might cure that, I guess). You would be the same. I guarantee it.
What's behind this post on a beautiful day when Finn is sitting beside me doing his homework with no apparent problems of any kind?
A reminder. A reminder that life is fragile. A friend of a friend from Ohio, whose story we have followed on their blog and who we have communicated with, has gone from being off treatment to now having AML, which is very aggressive and they are in for a tough road ahead. The thought that it could be anyone still takes my breath away.
Reminders. I don't like being reminded. It's an uncomfortable feeling. But it's important. Whatever you're doing right now, be grateful you can do it.
And now, I've got to go play with my kids. And be grateful.
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenting. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Why I Can't Subscribe to Better Homes & Gardens
Ages ago, when we still lived in Ohio, someone gave me a subscription to Better Homes & Gardens. I was all excited. I pulled out recipes, looked at decorating ideas, admired gardens, etc., and I felt inferior. Because my house didn't look like that, my garden didn't look like that (in fact I have a total aversion to yard work of any kind), and my family dinners didn't look like that.
The same thing happened when I started getting Family Fun magazine. Fun! For the whole family! I was totally overwhelmed. If we tried the projects, they never turned out like in the pictures and both the boys and I were disappointed (nothing ilke comparing your efforts to professional crafters, is there?).
The same went for when I subscribed to Gourmet magazine (that was way back in the 90s), Cooking Light, Martha Stewart Living, O Magazine -- you name it, it gave me an inferiority complex. (Really, the only thing I CAN read without getting an inferiority complex is People magazine. But I don't admit that I'm a subscriber because that gives me an inferiority complex.)
And then the other day, this blog post started circulating on Facebook.
I nearly wept with happiness when I read it. Now I know it's OK that I can't craft April Fool's Day food out of plasticene that looks like the real thing. Or that I didn't make the house look like it was overrun with leprechauns on St. Patrick's Day. Or that I have never made paper mache anything with my kids. Or that I can't sew a Halloween costume that looks like it came out of a Broadway dressing room.
It's OK. And I'm so relieved to know it at last.
These days, the only magazine I subscribe to is Shape. And yes, looking at all of those thin thighs gives me an inferiority complex.
The same thing happened when I started getting Family Fun magazine. Fun! For the whole family! I was totally overwhelmed. If we tried the projects, they never turned out like in the pictures and both the boys and I were disappointed (nothing ilke comparing your efforts to professional crafters, is there?).
The same went for when I subscribed to Gourmet magazine (that was way back in the 90s), Cooking Light, Martha Stewart Living, O Magazine -- you name it, it gave me an inferiority complex. (Really, the only thing I CAN read without getting an inferiority complex is People magazine. But I don't admit that I'm a subscriber because that gives me an inferiority complex.)
And then the other day, this blog post started circulating on Facebook.
I nearly wept with happiness when I read it. Now I know it's OK that I can't craft April Fool's Day food out of plasticene that looks like the real thing. Or that I didn't make the house look like it was overrun with leprechauns on St. Patrick's Day. Or that I have never made paper mache anything with my kids. Or that I can't sew a Halloween costume that looks like it came out of a Broadway dressing room.
It's OK. And I'm so relieved to know it at last.
These days, the only magazine I subscribe to is Shape. And yes, looking at all of those thin thighs gives me an inferiority complex.
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Mike & Carol Got it Right
What the what? Last week I wrote and posted (or so I thought) a post about the Brady Bunch. Where the heck is it?
I'll see if I can recreate it. But it's never as good the second time around. Sheesh.
***********
Does anyone else love the Brady Bunch? I confess, I do. Love it. I loved it as a kid, and I love it now. I have the DVR set up to record it every day and I put it on when I'm doing mindless stuff. Like folding endless baskets of laundry.
I'm finding the show pretty timeless. Even though it was 40+ years ago (eeek!). The kids still get into all sorts of scrapes and predicaments. With the exception of the clothing and the occasional "groovy," I feel like I could be watching a show filmed in this era.
I've also decided that Mike and Carol had it all going on in terms of parenting. They never shout, they tell their kids when they're total knuckleheads, and they follow through. You made a bad choice and now you'll have to live with the consequences of your behavior.
Really, I feel like there isn't enough follow through these days as I see on a daily basis right now at ski school. "Johnny, don't keep kicking the wall of ski school in your big heavy ski boots. Johnny, stop that please. Johnny..." (Parent then looks at me and smiles.) "We just flew in and he's so tired."
Personally, I think Johnny needs a big heavy ski boot up his own ass to get his attention, but maybe that's just me.
Anyway, watching the Brady Bunch as an adult has been a totally different experience than watching it as a kid (which I'm assuming I remember from reruns because the show ran from 1969 to 1974 and I'm guessing I didn't watch it when I was that young). When I was a kid, I was more into the episodes where the family was on some sort of adventure -- the Grand Canyon trip, which spanned three episodes and found the Bradys locked in a ghost town jail by an old prospector (I was cracking up watching this. They set up their tents in the middle of the street. They also had a pop up camper. Good thing they had tents, too, because how would they all, AND Alice, fit in that camper? Questions like this trouble me.).
And who didn't love the Hawaii episodes? You just KNEW Peter was asking for trouble with that tiki idol around his neck and saying, "Bad luck, come and get me!" I have tried to never utter that phrase ever since. And wasn't Vincent Price just SO SCARY?
Possibly one of my sisters' and my favorite episodes was when they went to the amusement park and Mike's architectural drawings got mixed up with Jan's Yogi Bear poster and then lost on a ride. Then the family has to run through the whole park to look for the plans and return them in time for Mike's big presentation. We loved it so much because it was filmed at King's Island, an amusement park about two hours from where we lived and a favorite summer destination. We knew that park like the back of our hands. I wonder if the old-timey cars are still there?
Anyway, I have discovered that I dig Mike and Carol's parenting style, even when they flubbed up a little. Like the time Mike punishes Marcia for sneaking out of the house at night. He's all mad at her until he discovers she did it to mail a letter nominating him for father of the year. He did get a little stern with her, but he never yelled. I'm not a big yeller myself. Unless I have PMS. We never saw Carol experience PMS.
Even when the kids really do create havoc, like the time they play all the practical jokes and end up scaring Alice so badly she breaks the bust of Mike's head that Carol made, there really isn't any yelling. Punishments and consequences are given out, but no one is beaten within an inch of their lives, which is how I might feel if I had six kids.
So maybe the Brady Bunch isn't that realistic. These was one episode where Carol is all flustered and talks about how busy she is. Um, Carol, you do have six kids, but you have a full-time housekeeper who appears to do all of the cooking and cleaning for you. And you clearly have time to make a bust of your husband, produce elaborate plays and school projects with the kids, like a film about the Pilgrims. If my kids came home and told me we had to produce a movie about the landing of the Mayflower, I'd probably send nasty e-mails to my kid's teacher. So Carol, how is it that you are so busy even though you have Alice? That part mystifies me.
One of my other favorite episodes: the one where Marsha has to try and get Davy Jones to play at her prom (even though she's only in middle school). I actually saved that one on the DVR because they put a nice little tribute to Davy at the end :) I saved it for Eamonn who was very sad about Davy Jones' recent passing.
That's something Carol would do for Mike. You know, if DVRs existed back then.
Got a favorite Brady Bunch episode? Let's hear it!
I'll see if I can recreate it. But it's never as good the second time around. Sheesh.
***********
Does anyone else love the Brady Bunch? I confess, I do. Love it. I loved it as a kid, and I love it now. I have the DVR set up to record it every day and I put it on when I'm doing mindless stuff. Like folding endless baskets of laundry.
I'm finding the show pretty timeless. Even though it was 40+ years ago (eeek!). The kids still get into all sorts of scrapes and predicaments. With the exception of the clothing and the occasional "groovy," I feel like I could be watching a show filmed in this era.
I've also decided that Mike and Carol had it all going on in terms of parenting. They never shout, they tell their kids when they're total knuckleheads, and they follow through. You made a bad choice and now you'll have to live with the consequences of your behavior.
Really, I feel like there isn't enough follow through these days as I see on a daily basis right now at ski school. "Johnny, don't keep kicking the wall of ski school in your big heavy ski boots. Johnny, stop that please. Johnny..." (Parent then looks at me and smiles.) "We just flew in and he's so tired."
Personally, I think Johnny needs a big heavy ski boot up his own ass to get his attention, but maybe that's just me.
Anyway, watching the Brady Bunch as an adult has been a totally different experience than watching it as a kid (which I'm assuming I remember from reruns because the show ran from 1969 to 1974 and I'm guessing I didn't watch it when I was that young). When I was a kid, I was more into the episodes where the family was on some sort of adventure -- the Grand Canyon trip, which spanned three episodes and found the Bradys locked in a ghost town jail by an old prospector (I was cracking up watching this. They set up their tents in the middle of the street. They also had a pop up camper. Good thing they had tents, too, because how would they all, AND Alice, fit in that camper? Questions like this trouble me.).
And who didn't love the Hawaii episodes? You just KNEW Peter was asking for trouble with that tiki idol around his neck and saying, "Bad luck, come and get me!" I have tried to never utter that phrase ever since. And wasn't Vincent Price just SO SCARY?
Possibly one of my sisters' and my favorite episodes was when they went to the amusement park and Mike's architectural drawings got mixed up with Jan's Yogi Bear poster and then lost on a ride. Then the family has to run through the whole park to look for the plans and return them in time for Mike's big presentation. We loved it so much because it was filmed at King's Island, an amusement park about two hours from where we lived and a favorite summer destination. We knew that park like the back of our hands. I wonder if the old-timey cars are still there?
Anyway, I have discovered that I dig Mike and Carol's parenting style, even when they flubbed up a little. Like the time Mike punishes Marcia for sneaking out of the house at night. He's all mad at her until he discovers she did it to mail a letter nominating him for father of the year. He did get a little stern with her, but he never yelled. I'm not a big yeller myself. Unless I have PMS. We never saw Carol experience PMS.
Even when the kids really do create havoc, like the time they play all the practical jokes and end up scaring Alice so badly she breaks the bust of Mike's head that Carol made, there really isn't any yelling. Punishments and consequences are given out, but no one is beaten within an inch of their lives, which is how I might feel if I had six kids.
So maybe the Brady Bunch isn't that realistic. These was one episode where Carol is all flustered and talks about how busy she is. Um, Carol, you do have six kids, but you have a full-time housekeeper who appears to do all of the cooking and cleaning for you. And you clearly have time to make a bust of your husband, produce elaborate plays and school projects with the kids, like a film about the Pilgrims. If my kids came home and told me we had to produce a movie about the landing of the Mayflower, I'd probably send nasty e-mails to my kid's teacher. So Carol, how is it that you are so busy even though you have Alice? That part mystifies me.
One of my other favorite episodes: the one where Marsha has to try and get Davy Jones to play at her prom (even though she's only in middle school). I actually saved that one on the DVR because they put a nice little tribute to Davy at the end :) I saved it for Eamonn who was very sad about Davy Jones' recent passing.
That's something Carol would do for Mike. You know, if DVRs existed back then.
Got a favorite Brady Bunch episode? Let's hear it!
Friday, January 14, 2011
And the Mother of The Year Award Goes To...Not Me...
Ugh. One of my main goals in life is to get my kids off to school happy, calm, well fed and ready to face the day.
Today I figure I'm 0 for 4. As in, not batting a thousand.
Does anyone else get sick of repeating themselves over and over and over again? I often joke that parenting is all about marketing--package and present something attractively enough and they're going to bite. "It's 6:45am! Isn't that great? Hope out of bed and I'll have some hot chocolate waiting for you!" Or we're doing something exciting after schooo, or it's movie night, or those beets give you superpowers...whatever.
And I'm just kidding about the beets. I despise them so I never make them.
Anyway, parenting, as we know, isn't only about marketing, it's also about retition. But I feel like my life lately is repeating myself repeating myself over and over again. And no one is apparently listening or learning.
When I go upstairs before we walk to school, beds are not made, blinds are not open, night lights are not turned off. I estimate I have reminded them to do these things several thousand times. Literally.
I'm also dismayed and disappointed at my children's gimme gimme gimme get get get attitudes. They get an allowance (which I informed them this morning is in jeopardy if they cannot start completing even the simplest morning tasks without reminding) that burns a hole in their pocket from the second it lands there. I don't know why I find their incessant, "Can you take me to the store to buy this and this and this and this," commentary so draining. It's right up there with the constant stream of, "Can I play DS/Wii/computer?"
So this morning, after yet another question of when I could take a certain person to the store to buy a certain something, I cracked. I yelled. I shouted. I slammed stuff down on the counter.
I stunned everyone into silence and sulleness.
That felt great. Not.
The problem, of course, is me. Me not sticking to my guns about no electronics during the week. Me not outlining expectations and then sticking to them. It is always so painfully obvious to me when I am being inconsistent. What kid wouldn't flounder around in the face of inconsistency?
So I foresee a family meeting in our very near future where we re-affirm the rules for all parties, discuss consequences and also behaviorial expectations. Because really, do I need to remind you to do the same 3 things every morning? I think not. Even if you are just 8 and 10.
Sigh.
I'm glad it's Friday. I feel weary.
Today I figure I'm 0 for 4. As in, not batting a thousand.
Does anyone else get sick of repeating themselves over and over and over again? I often joke that parenting is all about marketing--package and present something attractively enough and they're going to bite. "It's 6:45am! Isn't that great? Hope out of bed and I'll have some hot chocolate waiting for you!" Or we're doing something exciting after schooo, or it's movie night, or those beets give you superpowers...whatever.
And I'm just kidding about the beets. I despise them so I never make them.
Anyway, parenting, as we know, isn't only about marketing, it's also about retition. But I feel like my life lately is repeating myself repeating myself over and over again. And no one is apparently listening or learning.
When I go upstairs before we walk to school, beds are not made, blinds are not open, night lights are not turned off. I estimate I have reminded them to do these things several thousand times. Literally.
I'm also dismayed and disappointed at my children's gimme gimme gimme get get get attitudes. They get an allowance (which I informed them this morning is in jeopardy if they cannot start completing even the simplest morning tasks without reminding) that burns a hole in their pocket from the second it lands there. I don't know why I find their incessant, "Can you take me to the store to buy this and this and this and this," commentary so draining. It's right up there with the constant stream of, "Can I play DS/Wii/computer?"
So this morning, after yet another question of when I could take a certain person to the store to buy a certain something, I cracked. I yelled. I shouted. I slammed stuff down on the counter.
I stunned everyone into silence and sulleness.
That felt great. Not.
The problem, of course, is me. Me not sticking to my guns about no electronics during the week. Me not outlining expectations and then sticking to them. It is always so painfully obvious to me when I am being inconsistent. What kid wouldn't flounder around in the face of inconsistency?
So I foresee a family meeting in our very near future where we re-affirm the rules for all parties, discuss consequences and also behaviorial expectations. Because really, do I need to remind you to do the same 3 things every morning? I think not. Even if you are just 8 and 10.
Sigh.
I'm glad it's Friday. I feel weary.
Thursday, December 2, 2010
How Do I Ruin My Children's Lives? Let Me Count the Ways.
As a mother, I am out to make my children's lives as miserable as possible.
Of course I am. Who isn't? And why wouldn't I? It's such fun.
I'm kidding.
Sort of.
I do try to say yes to my kids when it's feasible. Or even when it isn't sometimes. It's fun to see them be happy about the unexpected opportunity to eat pie for breakfast or watch a movie on a school night.
However, they never seem to remember these unexpected bonuses when I'm ruining their lives in other ways.
Case in point: Last weekend when we were in Utah, the boys and all of Erin's kids set up a restaurant in the playroom. Very cute and creative. Except that they wanted to cook actual food and serve it to us and eat it down there themselves.
There were a few problems with this scenario. First, none of them really know how to cook and they seemed disinclined to have us be present in the kitchen while food was prepared. Second, Erin and her family are only living in this house temporarily--it's actually for sale and has recently been renovated. Renovated as in new carpet, paint, tile, etc. Renovated as in is it really wise for seven kids to be carrying/consuming food on various levels in this house with new paint and carpet?
No, not wise at all.
You would have thought we'd just told the kids we were enslaving them at a work camp in Siberia.
Drama. I felt bad because of all of their hard work making menus and setting up the restaurant, but it just didn't make sense. And it didn't help that the last time we visited and they still lived at the "old" house, the kids did this exact same thing and we did let them make food and bring it downstairs to the "restaurant."
Other ways I have failed my children in the not to distant past: forgetting to wash an item of clothing I said I would wash; saying we would do something and then having to go back on my word; forgetting to give allowances; not sitting down to play cards while I was trying to work; not allowing candy for breakfast.
It goes on.
Ad nauseum.
Sigh.
Of course I am. Who isn't? And why wouldn't I? It's such fun.
I'm kidding.
Sort of.
I do try to say yes to my kids when it's feasible. Or even when it isn't sometimes. It's fun to see them be happy about the unexpected opportunity to eat pie for breakfast or watch a movie on a school night.
However, they never seem to remember these unexpected bonuses when I'm ruining their lives in other ways.
Case in point: Last weekend when we were in Utah, the boys and all of Erin's kids set up a restaurant in the playroom. Very cute and creative. Except that they wanted to cook actual food and serve it to us and eat it down there themselves.
There were a few problems with this scenario. First, none of them really know how to cook and they seemed disinclined to have us be present in the kitchen while food was prepared. Second, Erin and her family are only living in this house temporarily--it's actually for sale and has recently been renovated. Renovated as in new carpet, paint, tile, etc. Renovated as in is it really wise for seven kids to be carrying/consuming food on various levels in this house with new paint and carpet?
No, not wise at all.
You would have thought we'd just told the kids we were enslaving them at a work camp in Siberia.
Drama. I felt bad because of all of their hard work making menus and setting up the restaurant, but it just didn't make sense. And it didn't help that the last time we visited and they still lived at the "old" house, the kids did this exact same thing and we did let them make food and bring it downstairs to the "restaurant."
Other ways I have failed my children in the not to distant past: forgetting to wash an item of clothing I said I would wash; saying we would do something and then having to go back on my word; forgetting to give allowances; not sitting down to play cards while I was trying to work; not allowing candy for breakfast.
It goes on.
Ad nauseum.
Sigh.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Obnoxious Hockey Mom Reporting for Duty
Over the weekend, we went to a hockey tournament in Aspen. As far as places to go for a hockey tournament, Aspen is not a bad place to be.
Especially if you win.
Which the boys did.
As you can see by the photo which shows that I am shamelessly bragging about my child. And this is where I oh so casually mention that along the way to winning this tournament, my son had a shutout, not once, but twice, against the team that was the state champion last year. Casual. I'm casual about it.
I will confess that when we scored against the team that was the state champion last year I:
1. Cheered so hard I fell off the back of my bleacher seat (I just dropped a few inches onto the concrete floor behind me, but I bet it was hilarious looking and caused the opposing fans to think, "She totally deserved that.").
2. Jumped up and down and screamed and nearly tore the sleeve off of the coat of the person sitting next to me. Multiple times.
3. Felt smug that our little mountain team beat the "big city kids."
Yes, I was an over-celebrator. If there were penalties for fans over-celebrating, I would have been fined. Or put in the penalty box, or however those types of crimes are punished.
In my defense, I don't yell derogatory things about the other team. That would be horrible. And plus, I don't know what I'm talking about to even yell anything derogatory. I'm more of a, "Yeah, Declan! Go VEHA! Come on boys! Skate, skate, skate!" type of person. I don't cheer when another team gets a penalty. Some other teams do this and I see how devastating it is on the kids. Come on, they're like 10 or 11. Or some are even younger, so do we really need to ridicule them?
Anyway,I'm going to try and dial my celebrating back for this weekend.
I'll let you know how that works out for me.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
I Wonder What Else I Don't Know?
All in all the first day of school seemed to go well yesterday. I didn't get a call from the school nurse telling me someone was sick or injured, so we're off to a rip-roaring start in my book.
I was packing Finn's lunch yesterday morning (Declan chose to buy the new scratch-cooked lunch on the first day--spaghetti with meat sauce. Finn hates "sauce" so he was packing. He bought chicken and cheese quesadillas today so I'm anxious to hear his "review"). Anyway, as I was packing Finn's lunch, I wrote a little note that said I hoped he was enjoying his first day of second grade. As I wrote yesterday, there was a little bit of first day anxiety for Finn, and I wanted to let him know I was thinking of him.
But here's the thing. I never would have thought to write notes to my kids in their lunchboxes. I know. What kind of mother am I? Is this a newfangled thing though? My Mom never wrote us notes in our lunches. Of course, we typically bought our lunch or packed our own, so there weren't really any note writing opportunities.
I heard about the "note" thing from Eamonn's cousin, Theresa, who said to me when Declan was starting kindergarten, "...and of course you write them little notes and smiley faces on their napkins..." I do? I should? Of course I should! And I do. Now that I know about it.
So last night as I was doing dishes and found Finn's note still stuck to the bottom of his sandwich container where he had me put it because he didn't want his friends to see it because they might make fun of him--whatever--I pondered all of the other things about parenting and life in general that I don't know about, but am probably doing wrong or possibly not doing at all. I wonder which is worse?
Sometimes I wonder how I made it to the age of 42 without knowing some of these things. Whatever they are. Especially since some of these things involve safety. For example, in college, I went camping with friends. This was in Kentucky and it's not like it was bear country or anything, but I don't think we gave a thought to wildlife and safety. So when Eamonn's cousin, Eamon, and his wife, Nicole, were going camping one time and I expressed concern, I was mostly thinking about the weather because it was supposed to snow. I didn't want them to freeze to death or anything. So when Nicole tried to reassure me by saying things like, "We know to put all of our food, toothpaste, or anything a bear might think of as food in a bear safe container away from where we're sleeping. And we know not to sleep in the same clothes we wear while we're cooking," I was astonished. You have to think about these things? Bears would want to get in my tent?
Oh my word. I'd never thought of any of that.
Which isn't very reassuring because we're trying to go camping this weekend if schedules allow for it.
But it got me wondering: What else won't I know until after the fact? Because not knowing that you shouldn't sleep in the same clothes you cooked in sounds pretty important. I'd better Google "bears" and "camping safety" tonight.
If you haven't heard from me by Tuesday, it's possible I've been eaten by bears.
I'll miss you.
Love,
Natalie
I was packing Finn's lunch yesterday morning (Declan chose to buy the new scratch-cooked lunch on the first day--spaghetti with meat sauce. Finn hates "sauce" so he was packing. He bought chicken and cheese quesadillas today so I'm anxious to hear his "review"). Anyway, as I was packing Finn's lunch, I wrote a little note that said I hoped he was enjoying his first day of second grade. As I wrote yesterday, there was a little bit of first day anxiety for Finn, and I wanted to let him know I was thinking of him.
But here's the thing. I never would have thought to write notes to my kids in their lunchboxes. I know. What kind of mother am I? Is this a newfangled thing though? My Mom never wrote us notes in our lunches. Of course, we typically bought our lunch or packed our own, so there weren't really any note writing opportunities.
I heard about the "note" thing from Eamonn's cousin, Theresa, who said to me when Declan was starting kindergarten, "...and of course you write them little notes and smiley faces on their napkins..." I do? I should? Of course I should! And I do. Now that I know about it.
So last night as I was doing dishes and found Finn's note still stuck to the bottom of his sandwich container where he had me put it because he didn't want his friends to see it because they might make fun of him--whatever--I pondered all of the other things about parenting and life in general that I don't know about, but am probably doing wrong or possibly not doing at all. I wonder which is worse?
Sometimes I wonder how I made it to the age of 42 without knowing some of these things. Whatever they are. Especially since some of these things involve safety. For example, in college, I went camping with friends. This was in Kentucky and it's not like it was bear country or anything, but I don't think we gave a thought to wildlife and safety. So when Eamonn's cousin, Eamon, and his wife, Nicole, were going camping one time and I expressed concern, I was mostly thinking about the weather because it was supposed to snow. I didn't want them to freeze to death or anything. So when Nicole tried to reassure me by saying things like, "We know to put all of our food, toothpaste, or anything a bear might think of as food in a bear safe container away from where we're sleeping. And we know not to sleep in the same clothes we wear while we're cooking," I was astonished. You have to think about these things? Bears would want to get in my tent?
Oh my word. I'd never thought of any of that.
Which isn't very reassuring because we're trying to go camping this weekend if schedules allow for it.
But it got me wondering: What else won't I know until after the fact? Because not knowing that you shouldn't sleep in the same clothes you cooked in sounds pretty important. I'd better Google "bears" and "camping safety" tonight.
If you haven't heard from me by Tuesday, it's possible I've been eaten by bears.
I'll miss you.
Love,
Natalie
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Free Education Isn't Free
No one locally reads my blog, so I'm going to vent a little here. I know you love it when I do that. Sort of. Maybe.
Anyway, this year I am on our PTA board. I didn't volunteer to do it. I'm not that selfless. I agreed to do it because I was asked. And because no one else wanted to do it. In fact, no one wanted to be in any PTA position this year. The four of us who comprise the board pretty much did it because if we hadn't, our PTA would have been leaderless this year.
Colorado is crazy low in state funding for schools. Like 45th out of 50 or something like that. I looked it up several years ago and was appalled at how low it was. And yet we still moved here. Go figure. With that said, I love the school the boys go to. It's about 50 yards from our house; I like the teachers; I like the people we've met there; I don't mind giving my time (within reason) to be there and make it a better place. In addition to being on the board, I'm the PR chair, I'm on the Green Team, a part of which is the Healthy Food committe, which I co-chair. I provide food for teacher conferences and teacher appreciation week. I help set up and clean up for the meals we provide. I coordinate a team of people who provide treats for every teacher on their birthday. I volunteer at the school dances, either Eamonn or I chaperone field trips, and between the two of us, we attend and provide food or supplies for every class party. I volunteer at the big end of year party/festival. I'm also on a district committee to overhaul the school lunch program. Blah blah blah. I volunteer a lot. I do it because I think it's important, not because I want people to say, "Wow, she's a good volunteer." I do it because the school needs it. But it takes a lot of time.
And parents' time is what is needed. The school is good, but it, like any school, needs help from parents to make it great. It needs help from parents in a time capacity and a dollar capacity.
So as I said, our school funding isn't great anyway, but with all of the decreases in property taxes these past years (it's a trend that will continue), we've got to make up the difference somehow. We somehow have to help students pay for field trips--each year we receive more requests for financial assistance--help teachers provide materials for their classrooms, fund various curriculum like science and the greenhouse, etc. The money has to come from somewhere. And as much as I'd like to conjure it out of my. . .own wallet, I can't.
Our PTA meets once a month. There's always a lot to talk about--school safety, upcoming events, how money is being raised and spent, activities updates, etc. We try to have our meetings last no longer than 90 minutes, but sometimes they run long. I don't like that, but it's not like we're sitting around talking about doing our hair and nails--we're discussing what needs to be done and when to raise the money we need to provide our kids with the education and opportunities we'd like them to have.
Our meetings have low turnout. Lower than any other school in the district. Last month, the board and one other person was there. Please. The ridiculous thing is that we are the largest school in the district, other than the high school.
What gives?
I was curious. So we developed an online survey and sent it out to parents. They still have another day to respond, but as of tonight, about 96 people have responded. Which is actually better than I expected (we have more than 480 students). So far, I'm the only one to have seen the results. And I feel annoyed. And I'm going to address some of the ridiculous answers here in a sarcastic and annoyed manner. I'm venting to you because I can't vent in this way to the people who wrote these things. Instead, I'll have to write them a nice letter addressing some of these issues. I'll have to say something like:
Dear Parents,
In the PTA survey, you indicated that having on-site childcare would encourage you attend PTA meetings. Good news! We do offer on-site childcare. We hire two babysitters at each meeting to entertain your children. So please come join us.
What I'd really like to say to address their many misconceptions, including childcare is:
Dear Parents,
Are you fricking kidding me? Clearly you haven't opened your child's backpack or read an e-mail from the school yet this millenium because if you did, you wouldn't have responded "The PTA does not keep me informed of its meetings or activities." We sent home flyers. We posted signs. We sent e-mails. The principal puts it in her newsletter and on her e-board. And still, you do not come to meetings. You accused us of wasting paper, so we switched to e-mails and a sandwich board in front of the school. And yet, you do not come. Please tell us what you need. Door-to-door solicitation? A tattoo on your child's forehead? Maybe we should drive through the neighborhood with a bullhorn at midnight? You tell me what works for you because I'm just sitting around waiting to do EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED. And as for childcare? We've offered that for years. All I have to say to that is DUH. Read the flyer/e-mail/notice board/the principal's e-board. Should I go on about all of the different ways you can read this information that we basically force feed you?
I loved your suggestion that there should be more working moms and dads on the PTA board. I do wonder how much more they should work? Our president works two jobs. Our VP works two jobs. I work two jobs. Our treasurer must be a slacker though--she only works one job. Yes, we are all moms. How strange. Oh wait, no dads even come to the meetings. We put up a big DADS sign on the door with a Ghostbusters symbol on it. Do you think that drives them away? We should probably stop doing that.
To the person who commented, "I heard people don't get along at the meetings." I don't even know how to address that. No one is strapping on the boxing gloves and duking it out. Although I think that sounds like fun. Do we always agree? No. But I can't think of a single example in the 3 1/2 years my kids have been here that things got out of hand, or even became disrespectful. I don't know what happened in the past, but maybe if you came to a meeting instead of talking about what you heard, you could make a decision for yourself.
To the people who commented they don't like the current leadership, then get off your ass, come to a meeting and volunteer to be a part of the leadershp team yourself. If you're not a part of the solution, you're part of the problem. I hate it when people spout cliches.
To the people who commented it seems like it's the same group of people doing all PTA activities, well, yeah! It's because no one new seems willing to volunteer. I do realize that at the beginning of the year, you filled out that questionnaire saying you'd help with X, Y, Z event. Well, maybe when we e-mail you, you could actually respond and agree to help instead of not answering.
To the people who commented we're clickish and political, my response is how do you know? I didn't even know the other people on the board before we started working on this together. We don't hang out. We've grown to like each other as we've worked together, but we're not friends. Our only common thread is PTA and realizing there wasn't anyone else who was willing to do this stuff.
To the person who said PTA dismisses ideas and doesn't listen. Are you the same person who says that PTA doesn't know when to stop discussing something and let it lie? Let's decide--are we over or under-analyzing things? When someone brings up an idea and we don't accept it, after much discussion, why do you think that is? Do you think maybe it's because we've been living and breathing this stuff 24/7, know all of the background, history, and financial issues involved, and maybe you don't because you just came to this meeting for the first time? Like when you suggested there should be a Spanish program. You mean like the one that's offered after school? That's not to say we're not interested in new ideas--we are. We'd love it if people had ideas instead of just coming in and being critical when they've never even been to a meeting before. Or paid attention to anything the school sends home.
Many of you said you don't have time to be involved. Seriously? Because, I do. I have oodles of time to spend doing unpaid work when I should be making a living. And really? You don't have one hour a month to help chaperone a dance that will raise money for YOUR CHILD to take a field trip or have an assembly or get a new science book? You'd rather be home on the couch instead of chaperoning a dance? Guess what? Me, too. Because as much as I'd like to say I LOVE to spend all my time at the school, I don't. And I feel resentful that you ATTEND PTA events with your children, but you can't seem to volunteer for even a 20 minute shift to help out and take the burden off the same 15 people who always volunteer because they know if they don't do it, no one will.
Maybe PTA should just disband. Maybe when your child's teacher submits a request for 20 students to attend a science/nature hike with the science school, we should shrug and say we're out of money because no one would help. During Teacher Appreciation week, we'll have to tell teachers no one volunteered to bring a meal, or set up, or clean up. We can just order pizza for them like we had to last time. But wait, we can't order pizza because we're out of money. They can brown bag it. That's the way to show our appreciation.
In the survey, you indicated that you see PTA as important to our school. Then act like it. Because the same 15 parents cannot keep shouldering the burden for the rest of you. We work. We have kids in sports. We have to make dinner. Our kids have to get to bed. All of it. So my response to those excuses? Boo Frickin' Hoo. Unless you're a single welfare parent working three jobs and raising five kids by working the night shift at a factory, you've got no excuse. If it's important to you, you'll make it work. You're tired. I'm tired. We're all tired. Some of us are even sick and tired. But if each person volunteered just one hour a month, maybe we'd all be a little less tired.
This free education that you love, and take advantage of, in the district's top school? It ain't free. It costs time, it costs money, it costs a little blood, sweat and tears now and then. Someone somewhere is working THEIR ass off so your kid can have these things that make our school so great. So instead of casting around petty accusations about what you THINK or what you HEARD goes on, maybe get off your ass and come see for yourself. And if you don't like it, do something about it instead of bitching via an anonymous survey. Want to come in and overthrow the current leadership board? Bring it. We'll hand you the keys to the castle as we run to our cars shouting, "So long, sucker!" It's a thankless job and frankly, all we get is grief. Hello--we are VOLUNTEERS, not your paid servants, not your whipping boys (girls). You think you can do it better? To a person, I think we'd all say you're welcome to it, so put your money where your mouth is.
So, see you at the next meeting, Big Talker?
Love,
Natalie
Wow. I don't even have PMS. Just think if I had written this then!
Anyway, this year I am on our PTA board. I didn't volunteer to do it. I'm not that selfless. I agreed to do it because I was asked. And because no one else wanted to do it. In fact, no one wanted to be in any PTA position this year. The four of us who comprise the board pretty much did it because if we hadn't, our PTA would have been leaderless this year.
Colorado is crazy low in state funding for schools. Like 45th out of 50 or something like that. I looked it up several years ago and was appalled at how low it was. And yet we still moved here. Go figure. With that said, I love the school the boys go to. It's about 50 yards from our house; I like the teachers; I like the people we've met there; I don't mind giving my time (within reason) to be there and make it a better place. In addition to being on the board, I'm the PR chair, I'm on the Green Team, a part of which is the Healthy Food committe, which I co-chair. I provide food for teacher conferences and teacher appreciation week. I help set up and clean up for the meals we provide. I coordinate a team of people who provide treats for every teacher on their birthday. I volunteer at the school dances, either Eamonn or I chaperone field trips, and between the two of us, we attend and provide food or supplies for every class party. I volunteer at the big end of year party/festival. I'm also on a district committee to overhaul the school lunch program. Blah blah blah. I volunteer a lot. I do it because I think it's important, not because I want people to say, "Wow, she's a good volunteer." I do it because the school needs it. But it takes a lot of time.
And parents' time is what is needed. The school is good, but it, like any school, needs help from parents to make it great. It needs help from parents in a time capacity and a dollar capacity.
So as I said, our school funding isn't great anyway, but with all of the decreases in property taxes these past years (it's a trend that will continue), we've got to make up the difference somehow. We somehow have to help students pay for field trips--each year we receive more requests for financial assistance--help teachers provide materials for their classrooms, fund various curriculum like science and the greenhouse, etc. The money has to come from somewhere. And as much as I'd like to conjure it out of my. . .own wallet, I can't.
Our PTA meets once a month. There's always a lot to talk about--school safety, upcoming events, how money is being raised and spent, activities updates, etc. We try to have our meetings last no longer than 90 minutes, but sometimes they run long. I don't like that, but it's not like we're sitting around talking about doing our hair and nails--we're discussing what needs to be done and when to raise the money we need to provide our kids with the education and opportunities we'd like them to have.
Our meetings have low turnout. Lower than any other school in the district. Last month, the board and one other person was there. Please. The ridiculous thing is that we are the largest school in the district, other than the high school.
What gives?
I was curious. So we developed an online survey and sent it out to parents. They still have another day to respond, but as of tonight, about 96 people have responded. Which is actually better than I expected (we have more than 480 students). So far, I'm the only one to have seen the results. And I feel annoyed. And I'm going to address some of the ridiculous answers here in a sarcastic and annoyed manner. I'm venting to you because I can't vent in this way to the people who wrote these things. Instead, I'll have to write them a nice letter addressing some of these issues. I'll have to say something like:
Dear Parents,
In the PTA survey, you indicated that having on-site childcare would encourage you attend PTA meetings. Good news! We do offer on-site childcare. We hire two babysitters at each meeting to entertain your children. So please come join us.
What I'd really like to say to address their many misconceptions, including childcare is:
Dear Parents,
Are you fricking kidding me? Clearly you haven't opened your child's backpack or read an e-mail from the school yet this millenium because if you did, you wouldn't have responded "The PTA does not keep me informed of its meetings or activities." We sent home flyers. We posted signs. We sent e-mails. The principal puts it in her newsletter and on her e-board. And still, you do not come to meetings. You accused us of wasting paper, so we switched to e-mails and a sandwich board in front of the school. And yet, you do not come. Please tell us what you need. Door-to-door solicitation? A tattoo on your child's forehead? Maybe we should drive through the neighborhood with a bullhorn at midnight? You tell me what works for you because I'm just sitting around waiting to do EXACTLY WHAT YOU NEED. And as for childcare? We've offered that for years. All I have to say to that is DUH. Read the flyer/e-mail/notice board/the principal's e-board. Should I go on about all of the different ways you can read this information that we basically force feed you?
I loved your suggestion that there should be more working moms and dads on the PTA board. I do wonder how much more they should work? Our president works two jobs. Our VP works two jobs. I work two jobs. Our treasurer must be a slacker though--she only works one job. Yes, we are all moms. How strange. Oh wait, no dads even come to the meetings. We put up a big DADS sign on the door with a Ghostbusters symbol on it. Do you think that drives them away? We should probably stop doing that.
To the person who commented, "I heard people don't get along at the meetings." I don't even know how to address that. No one is strapping on the boxing gloves and duking it out. Although I think that sounds like fun. Do we always agree? No. But I can't think of a single example in the 3 1/2 years my kids have been here that things got out of hand, or even became disrespectful. I don't know what happened in the past, but maybe if you came to a meeting instead of talking about what you heard, you could make a decision for yourself.
To the people who commented they don't like the current leadership, then get off your ass, come to a meeting and volunteer to be a part of the leadershp team yourself. If you're not a part of the solution, you're part of the problem. I hate it when people spout cliches.
To the people who commented it seems like it's the same group of people doing all PTA activities, well, yeah! It's because no one new seems willing to volunteer. I do realize that at the beginning of the year, you filled out that questionnaire saying you'd help with X, Y, Z event. Well, maybe when we e-mail you, you could actually respond and agree to help instead of not answering.
To the people who commented we're clickish and political, my response is how do you know? I didn't even know the other people on the board before we started working on this together. We don't hang out. We've grown to like each other as we've worked together, but we're not friends. Our only common thread is PTA and realizing there wasn't anyone else who was willing to do this stuff.
To the person who said PTA dismisses ideas and doesn't listen. Are you the same person who says that PTA doesn't know when to stop discussing something and let it lie? Let's decide--are we over or under-analyzing things? When someone brings up an idea and we don't accept it, after much discussion, why do you think that is? Do you think maybe it's because we've been living and breathing this stuff 24/7, know all of the background, history, and financial issues involved, and maybe you don't because you just came to this meeting for the first time? Like when you suggested there should be a Spanish program. You mean like the one that's offered after school? That's not to say we're not interested in new ideas--we are. We'd love it if people had ideas instead of just coming in and being critical when they've never even been to a meeting before. Or paid attention to anything the school sends home.
Many of you said you don't have time to be involved. Seriously? Because, I do. I have oodles of time to spend doing unpaid work when I should be making a living. And really? You don't have one hour a month to help chaperone a dance that will raise money for YOUR CHILD to take a field trip or have an assembly or get a new science book? You'd rather be home on the couch instead of chaperoning a dance? Guess what? Me, too. Because as much as I'd like to say I LOVE to spend all my time at the school, I don't. And I feel resentful that you ATTEND PTA events with your children, but you can't seem to volunteer for even a 20 minute shift to help out and take the burden off the same 15 people who always volunteer because they know if they don't do it, no one will.
Maybe PTA should just disband. Maybe when your child's teacher submits a request for 20 students to attend a science/nature hike with the science school, we should shrug and say we're out of money because no one would help. During Teacher Appreciation week, we'll have to tell teachers no one volunteered to bring a meal, or set up, or clean up. We can just order pizza for them like we had to last time. But wait, we can't order pizza because we're out of money. They can brown bag it. That's the way to show our appreciation.
In the survey, you indicated that you see PTA as important to our school. Then act like it. Because the same 15 parents cannot keep shouldering the burden for the rest of you. We work. We have kids in sports. We have to make dinner. Our kids have to get to bed. All of it. So my response to those excuses? Boo Frickin' Hoo. Unless you're a single welfare parent working three jobs and raising five kids by working the night shift at a factory, you've got no excuse. If it's important to you, you'll make it work. You're tired. I'm tired. We're all tired. Some of us are even sick and tired. But if each person volunteered just one hour a month, maybe we'd all be a little less tired.
This free education that you love, and take advantage of, in the district's top school? It ain't free. It costs time, it costs money, it costs a little blood, sweat and tears now and then. Someone somewhere is working THEIR ass off so your kid can have these things that make our school so great. So instead of casting around petty accusations about what you THINK or what you HEARD goes on, maybe get off your ass and come see for yourself. And if you don't like it, do something about it instead of bitching via an anonymous survey. Want to come in and overthrow the current leadership board? Bring it. We'll hand you the keys to the castle as we run to our cars shouting, "So long, sucker!" It's a thankless job and frankly, all we get is grief. Hello--we are VOLUNTEERS, not your paid servants, not your whipping boys (girls). You think you can do it better? To a person, I think we'd all say you're welcome to it, so put your money where your mouth is.
So, see you at the next meeting, Big Talker?
Love,
Natalie
Wow. I don't even have PMS. Just think if I had written this then!
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Miracle on Ice
After three days in Denver for Declan's hockey tournament, I was ready to come home for several reasons: a) I'm not a city person, and b) it's totally stressful to be a goalie mother and my heart had taken all the angst it could take. We had our own little taste of Miracle on Ice glory, but first, let me back up to the prior weekend. . .
We were also in Denver for hockey a week ago. It wasn't a tournament--we just played the same team, the Junior Eagles, two days in a row. It's common to do that when you travel or when another team comes to your town. We were anticipating two tough days of hockey because we were playing the only other undefeated team in our division. So we were somewhat surprised when our boys beat the Denver team quite easily both days. Denver is known for it's tough hockey teams.
So fast forward to just this past weekend when we returned to Denver for a tournament. Among the teams we had to play was the Junior Eagles again. Not too unusual, but we knew they'd be really fired up to beat our team this time.
And they were. It was like some kind of grudge match. To make matters worse, the game took place at 11:30am on Sunday morning, after we'd already played at 6:00am--yes, you read that right, 6:00AM, that morning. The Junior Eagles were playing their first game of the day. And our 6:00am game had been a tough one. So it was fresh legs (them) versus tired legs (us).
The whole thing was just surreal. There was a big crowd watching because our Squirt B team (we are Squirt C) was playing right afterwards. So all of their parents and players were there watching in addition to our players and parents.
So the grudge match began. We were up 2 - 0 after the second period. That's always good. And then in the second period (they play three 12-minute periods), it all started to come unglued. You could tell our kids were getting tired and you could tell the Junior Eagles were digging in. They scored two quick goals and our boys started to deflate--you could just see it. That's when you wish you could just open up the top of your kid's head and just pour a little energy in, but of course, you just sit there and watch and shout encouragement if you can.
Time ticked away and we finished regulation play tied at 2 all. I waited for overtime play to start.
But it didn't.
My friend, Leah, whose son is also a goalie for the team, came and sat down next to me and said, "I'm here for moral support."
"Great! Why?" I asked.
"Don't you realize it's going to a shootout?" She asked (probably thinking, duhhhhh, you ding dong). "Declan is in goal for the shootout."
I sat down really fast. My baby was in the goal. I couldn't handle the pressure. I was worried he couldn't handle the pressure. Which as I write that, it sounds silly. It's a kids' hockey tournament for pity's sake, not brain surgery. But it's important to them and therefore, it's important to me.
They shot on Declan first. The player approached in a kind of strange, slow fashion--usually you see the shooter race up and fire the puck in, so it was a weird-ish strategy. And it didn't work! Declan stopped it and the crowd went wild. I jumped up and down, probably squealed a little, and clapped.
Our first shooter, a kid named Zane, who is also the league high scorer right now, dashed up to the opposing team's goal and fired it in. We were up 3 - 2.
It was time for the second shot on Declan. Seriously. The anxiety I had for Declan was unbearable. Again, their player did this crazy slow approach. Again, it didn't work. Declan stopped it. The crowd went nuts and you could have cut the tension in that arena like a bad cliche. I doubled over in agony (it was just stress--I didn't have to go to the bathroom).
Our second shooter took his shot. And missed. It was still 3 - 2 to our advantage, with one shot each left. The stress. How could Declan stand it???? I was struggling to maintain my composure and I wasn't even in the game! My heart was aching for him because he takes goals scored on him so personally. People were screaming his name. How do you concentrate with all of that going on?
Their last shooter began his approach, moving faster than his teammates this time. He fired his shot. . .and Declan stopped it again, clinching the win for his team.
I screamed like I was being drawn and quartered in the stands and I think I bruised Leah's arm by pounding on her. Everyone went completely crazy. Declan's teammates all ran from the bench and piled on top of him. Seriously, I couldn't see him underneath it all. It was sheer and utter madness. You would have thought we'd just played for the gold medal in the Olympics.
It was incredible to see Declan have his moment in the sun. I'm in awe of his coolness under pressure. . .at the ripe old age of 9. I don't have near that composure at my much older age. I'm guessing I never will at this point.
In the end, the boys did not win the tournament. In fact, they didn't even make it to the final because the tournament director changed the rules and apparently didn't see fit to notify the teams. A team we had already beat went on to the final while we played against none other than the Junior Eagles, yet again, for 3rd/4th place. Yep, the same team they'd already beat three times in a week, they had to play again. Our boys defeated the Junior Eagles again to come in 3rd.
Ironically, we'll have to play them again at the league playoffs in March. Think they'll be hungry for a win? Sigh.
Below are a few pictures of the boys playing this weekend. Please note, I was so rattled during the shootout that I didn't take any pictures or video. Nice. Fortunately, a friend recorded the whole game, so I'll see if I can eventually upload the shootout.
And then I guess I'd better make sure the video camera is on my "don't forget" list for the next game.
It's 5:45am on Sunday morning. We got to play in DU's (University of Denver--as an aside, why are they University of Denver, yet called DU?) arena. DU is a HUGE hockey school, so this was a very exciting treat for the boys. Here's Finn posing in our box seats.
It's now almost 6am and the game is about to start. Wow--look at the crowd. Oh wait, everyone sane is still in bed. Here I'm trying to take a picture of Finn and two other hockey siblings (hockey siblings are fondly known as Rink Rats) waaaaaaaaay up in the top row of the seats. They loved this arena because it had endless entertainment opportunities. They ran up and down the stairs so much, I'm guessing they actually burned more calories than the players themselves.
Waiting to go out on the ice . They still go out through the doors during the game, but sometimes they go over the boards when they're at practice, which makes me laugh because they're still small enough that they get stuck halfway over.
Declan warming up in goal.
I think he just made a save here. But then again, I can never tell what the heck is going on when I'm trying to take pictures and watch through that little screen on the back of the camera.
One of our players takes the puck back toward the opposing team's goal.
PS: Does that P&G commercial showing little kids as Olympic athletes and ending with the tagline "To their mothers, they'll always be kids" make anyone else cry? Gets me every time.
We were also in Denver for hockey a week ago. It wasn't a tournament--we just played the same team, the Junior Eagles, two days in a row. It's common to do that when you travel or when another team comes to your town. We were anticipating two tough days of hockey because we were playing the only other undefeated team in our division. So we were somewhat surprised when our boys beat the Denver team quite easily both days. Denver is known for it's tough hockey teams.
So fast forward to just this past weekend when we returned to Denver for a tournament. Among the teams we had to play was the Junior Eagles again. Not too unusual, but we knew they'd be really fired up to beat our team this time.
And they were. It was like some kind of grudge match. To make matters worse, the game took place at 11:30am on Sunday morning, after we'd already played at 6:00am--yes, you read that right, 6:00AM, that morning. The Junior Eagles were playing their first game of the day. And our 6:00am game had been a tough one. So it was fresh legs (them) versus tired legs (us).
The whole thing was just surreal. There was a big crowd watching because our Squirt B team (we are Squirt C) was playing right afterwards. So all of their parents and players were there watching in addition to our players and parents.
So the grudge match began. We were up 2 - 0 after the second period. That's always good. And then in the second period (they play three 12-minute periods), it all started to come unglued. You could tell our kids were getting tired and you could tell the Junior Eagles were digging in. They scored two quick goals and our boys started to deflate--you could just see it. That's when you wish you could just open up the top of your kid's head and just pour a little energy in, but of course, you just sit there and watch and shout encouragement if you can.
Time ticked away and we finished regulation play tied at 2 all. I waited for overtime play to start.
But it didn't.
My friend, Leah, whose son is also a goalie for the team, came and sat down next to me and said, "I'm here for moral support."
"Great! Why?" I asked.
"Don't you realize it's going to a shootout?" She asked (probably thinking, duhhhhh, you ding dong). "Declan is in goal for the shootout."
I sat down really fast. My baby was in the goal. I couldn't handle the pressure. I was worried he couldn't handle the pressure. Which as I write that, it sounds silly. It's a kids' hockey tournament for pity's sake, not brain surgery. But it's important to them and therefore, it's important to me.
They shot on Declan first. The player approached in a kind of strange, slow fashion--usually you see the shooter race up and fire the puck in, so it was a weird-ish strategy. And it didn't work! Declan stopped it and the crowd went wild. I jumped up and down, probably squealed a little, and clapped.
Our first shooter, a kid named Zane, who is also the league high scorer right now, dashed up to the opposing team's goal and fired it in. We were up 3 - 2.
It was time for the second shot on Declan. Seriously. The anxiety I had for Declan was unbearable. Again, their player did this crazy slow approach. Again, it didn't work. Declan stopped it. The crowd went nuts and you could have cut the tension in that arena like a bad cliche. I doubled over in agony (it was just stress--I didn't have to go to the bathroom).
Our second shooter took his shot. And missed. It was still 3 - 2 to our advantage, with one shot each left. The stress. How could Declan stand it???? I was struggling to maintain my composure and I wasn't even in the game! My heart was aching for him because he takes goals scored on him so personally. People were screaming his name. How do you concentrate with all of that going on?
Their last shooter began his approach, moving faster than his teammates this time. He fired his shot. . .and Declan stopped it again, clinching the win for his team.
I screamed like I was being drawn and quartered in the stands and I think I bruised Leah's arm by pounding on her. Everyone went completely crazy. Declan's teammates all ran from the bench and piled on top of him. Seriously, I couldn't see him underneath it all. It was sheer and utter madness. You would have thought we'd just played for the gold medal in the Olympics.
It was incredible to see Declan have his moment in the sun. I'm in awe of his coolness under pressure. . .at the ripe old age of 9. I don't have near that composure at my much older age. I'm guessing I never will at this point.
In the end, the boys did not win the tournament. In fact, they didn't even make it to the final because the tournament director changed the rules and apparently didn't see fit to notify the teams. A team we had already beat went on to the final while we played against none other than the Junior Eagles, yet again, for 3rd/4th place. Yep, the same team they'd already beat three times in a week, they had to play again. Our boys defeated the Junior Eagles again to come in 3rd.
Ironically, we'll have to play them again at the league playoffs in March. Think they'll be hungry for a win? Sigh.
Below are a few pictures of the boys playing this weekend. Please note, I was so rattled during the shootout that I didn't take any pictures or video. Nice. Fortunately, a friend recorded the whole game, so I'll see if I can eventually upload the shootout.
And then I guess I'd better make sure the video camera is on my "don't forget" list for the next game.
It's 5:45am on Sunday morning. We got to play in DU's (University of Denver--as an aside, why are they University of Denver, yet called DU?) arena. DU is a HUGE hockey school, so this was a very exciting treat for the boys. Here's Finn posing in our box seats.
It's now almost 6am and the game is about to start. Wow--look at the crowd. Oh wait, everyone sane is still in bed. Here I'm trying to take a picture of Finn and two other hockey siblings (hockey siblings are fondly known as Rink Rats) waaaaaaaaay up in the top row of the seats. They loved this arena because it had endless entertainment opportunities. They ran up and down the stairs so much, I'm guessing they actually burned more calories than the players themselves.
Waiting to go out on the ice . They still go out through the doors during the game, but sometimes they go over the boards when they're at practice, which makes me laugh because they're still small enough that they get stuck halfway over.
Declan warming up in goal.
I think he just made a save here. But then again, I can never tell what the heck is going on when I'm trying to take pictures and watch through that little screen on the back of the camera.
One of our players takes the puck back toward the opposing team's goal.
PS: Does that P&G commercial showing little kids as Olympic athletes and ending with the tagline "To their mothers, they'll always be kids" make anyone else cry? Gets me every time.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Uncle!
I'm sick. Again. A few weeks ago I had a mild head cold whose strongest symptom seemed to be fatigue, but came with a bonus side of congestion, headache and sneezing.
And now that cold is back and has taken up residence in my sinuses. I think Eamonn and the boys had it last week. I'm telling you, if Eamonn is sick, you can rest assured you're dealing with one potent set of germs. I swear he is Immune System Man--no germ ever brings him down. I can't remember the last time he took a sick day (unless you count that day after a night out with the cycling guys, but we won't go into that now). Last week he must have felt bad because he slept in. One day.
But yesterday I threw in the towel to this plague--whatever it is. It was a struggle and I didn't do it until lunchtime.
Why is it so hard for grown ups to take a sick day? What do we think will happen to the planet if we just stay in bed?
Let's face it--I work at home so really, if I'm sick, all I need to do is sit with my computer on my lap, mouth breathe to my heart's content, make the occasionaly groaning noise and just get on with work.
I tried that yesterday and I did finish my work.
I thought about the rest of my To Do list that I wanted to accomplish. It involved cleaning toilets. I really don't think there is anything more unappealing when a body is sick.
But those toilets were troubling me. Why? They'll still be there tomorrow. I had already put the stuff in (Clorox Greenworks, by the way--I'm an occasional convert). Was I worried about wasting the cleaning stuff?
Maybe I was just too lazy to go upstairs and get in bed.
But finally, I did it.
After putting dinner in the crockpot.
And cleaning the toilets.
Folding some laundry.
And setting the alarm on my phone to wake me up in time to pick up the kids.
So technically I didn't take a sick day--I took a sick 90 minutes. But then I went to bed at 5:45pm.
It's a start, I guess.
And now that cold is back and has taken up residence in my sinuses. I think Eamonn and the boys had it last week. I'm telling you, if Eamonn is sick, you can rest assured you're dealing with one potent set of germs. I swear he is Immune System Man--no germ ever brings him down. I can't remember the last time he took a sick day (unless you count that day after a night out with the cycling guys, but we won't go into that now). Last week he must have felt bad because he slept in. One day.
But yesterday I threw in the towel to this plague--whatever it is. It was a struggle and I didn't do it until lunchtime.
Why is it so hard for grown ups to take a sick day? What do we think will happen to the planet if we just stay in bed?
Let's face it--I work at home so really, if I'm sick, all I need to do is sit with my computer on my lap, mouth breathe to my heart's content, make the occasionaly groaning noise and just get on with work.
I tried that yesterday and I did finish my work.
I thought about the rest of my To Do list that I wanted to accomplish. It involved cleaning toilets. I really don't think there is anything more unappealing when a body is sick.
But those toilets were troubling me. Why? They'll still be there tomorrow. I had already put the stuff in (Clorox Greenworks, by the way--I'm an occasional convert). Was I worried about wasting the cleaning stuff?
Maybe I was just too lazy to go upstairs and get in bed.
But finally, I did it.
After putting dinner in the crockpot.
And cleaning the toilets.
Folding some laundry.
And setting the alarm on my phone to wake me up in time to pick up the kids.
So technically I didn't take a sick day--I took a sick 90 minutes. But then I went to bed at 5:45pm.
It's a start, I guess.
Friday, October 16, 2009
Priorities, Priorities
Brace yourself. I'm about to vent.
A few weeks ago we had THE big fundraiser for our local elementary schools. Unfortunately, Colorado has one of the worst school funding systems in the country and we're constantly struggling to make up the shortfall between what the government provides (of course, this is the story everywhere, I know) and what kids need in the classroom.
Anyway, this huge fundraiser we have is very volunteer intensive. The money raised is divided up amongst all of the elementary schools. Each school is assigned a certain number of volunteer positions to fill. If the school doesn't fill its positions, it doesn't get an equal share of the money.
Fair enough.
This year, I am serving on the PTA board as secretary. I figured I'd go and take notes and that would be my commitment.
Wrong.
I figure if I spent as much time working for pay as I now do volunteering for stuff at the school, I'd be a millionaire in just these few short weeks since school started.
So one of my jobs as a member of the PTA board is to help staff a PTA table at various school events--sort of a "what is the PTA and what do we do" type of thing.
Great. Afterall, remember, I have an MBA in the field of common sense (marketing), so this is right up my alley.
So a few days before the big fundraiser, our school had its back to school night. We were trying to sign people up to volunteer at the fundraiser. We were in dire straights. Our volunteer sign up sheets were originally due the day before, but we hadn't filled our spots. We weren't going to get an equal share of the proceeds from the event. We were desperate. We begged for an extension to get volunteers since our back to school night fell on an unusually late date this year.
Let me say a few things here--first, we are the biggest elementary school in the district. In fact, only the high schools have more students. It is totally ridiculous that we didn't fill these volunteer spots right away. And can I just say, it's not like we're asking for a limb or the scalp of someone's youngest child--these volunteer positions are doing things like running games, baking things for a bake sale, or directing traffic in the parking lot (a very dusty job that I ended up volunteering Eamonn for to fill the spots) for, at the most, one hour during the fundraiser. You've got the whole rest of the day to hang with your family.
So, there I was, along with a few other dedicated PTA members, standing at this table on back to school night, calling out to people to help volunteer because we weren't going to get the money we need to run our school if we didn't fill our spots.
How do you think that went? Not well, in case you're wondering.
I couldn't believe it. People looked the other way when we asked for help. Literally would not make eye contact and walked on by. This is a small town, by the way, so I find that totally bizarre. Hello! It's not like I don't know who you are and where you live! One person actually said to me, "I don't want to." Um, and I do? I WANT to spend several hours of my Sunday doing this? No. I don't WANT to. I do it because we all NEED to whether we like it or not.
And I've been on a tear ever since, wondering what the hell is wrong with people. It seems like no one wants to volunteer to help out and do things anymore. At PTA, it's the same 10 - 15 people who pull the load for everyone over and over again and so then those 10 - 15 people end up in volunteer burnout and you can't even get them anymore because they're so fried. And I get it. I'm one of them. I'm over the whole volunteer thing and it's only mid-October. But not volunteering is not an option.
In the end, we did fill our spots--barely. I had to sign up for three different jobs that day and I volunteered Eamonn without his prior knowledge. But the whole thing has left me with a bad taste in my mouth about the willingness of parents to get involved in schools (which is HUGE) and why a few have to pull the load for the masses.
And you know what, I totally don't buy the "I work full time, I can't volunteer at the school" argument. We all work in some way or another and there are a million ways to be involved at school that don't required hours and hours of time.
We're all busy, we all want to spend time with our families, but if we would all pitch in just a little and share the load, it would be so much better. What's that saying? Many hands make light work? We want top notch education for our kids, but it doesn't come for free. Are we willing to work for it?
But then, I realize I'm preaching to the choir once again. Thanks for listening to me rant. I just got an e-mail asking me to make food for teachers this week. Also on the e-mail? The same 15 people who are always on it. GAH!
A few weeks ago we had THE big fundraiser for our local elementary schools. Unfortunately, Colorado has one of the worst school funding systems in the country and we're constantly struggling to make up the shortfall between what the government provides (of course, this is the story everywhere, I know) and what kids need in the classroom.
Anyway, this huge fundraiser we have is very volunteer intensive. The money raised is divided up amongst all of the elementary schools. Each school is assigned a certain number of volunteer positions to fill. If the school doesn't fill its positions, it doesn't get an equal share of the money.
Fair enough.
This year, I am serving on the PTA board as secretary. I figured I'd go and take notes and that would be my commitment.
Wrong.
I figure if I spent as much time working for pay as I now do volunteering for stuff at the school, I'd be a millionaire in just these few short weeks since school started.
So one of my jobs as a member of the PTA board is to help staff a PTA table at various school events--sort of a "what is the PTA and what do we do" type of thing.
Great. Afterall, remember, I have an MBA in the field of common sense (marketing), so this is right up my alley.
So a few days before the big fundraiser, our school had its back to school night. We were trying to sign people up to volunteer at the fundraiser. We were in dire straights. Our volunteer sign up sheets were originally due the day before, but we hadn't filled our spots. We weren't going to get an equal share of the proceeds from the event. We were desperate. We begged for an extension to get volunteers since our back to school night fell on an unusually late date this year.
Let me say a few things here--first, we are the biggest elementary school in the district. In fact, only the high schools have more students. It is totally ridiculous that we didn't fill these volunteer spots right away. And can I just say, it's not like we're asking for a limb or the scalp of someone's youngest child--these volunteer positions are doing things like running games, baking things for a bake sale, or directing traffic in the parking lot (a very dusty job that I ended up volunteering Eamonn for to fill the spots) for, at the most, one hour during the fundraiser. You've got the whole rest of the day to hang with your family.
So, there I was, along with a few other dedicated PTA members, standing at this table on back to school night, calling out to people to help volunteer because we weren't going to get the money we need to run our school if we didn't fill our spots.
How do you think that went? Not well, in case you're wondering.
I couldn't believe it. People looked the other way when we asked for help. Literally would not make eye contact and walked on by. This is a small town, by the way, so I find that totally bizarre. Hello! It's not like I don't know who you are and where you live! One person actually said to me, "I don't want to." Um, and I do? I WANT to spend several hours of my Sunday doing this? No. I don't WANT to. I do it because we all NEED to whether we like it or not.
And I've been on a tear ever since, wondering what the hell is wrong with people. It seems like no one wants to volunteer to help out and do things anymore. At PTA, it's the same 10 - 15 people who pull the load for everyone over and over again and so then those 10 - 15 people end up in volunteer burnout and you can't even get them anymore because they're so fried. And I get it. I'm one of them. I'm over the whole volunteer thing and it's only mid-October. But not volunteering is not an option.
In the end, we did fill our spots--barely. I had to sign up for three different jobs that day and I volunteered Eamonn without his prior knowledge. But the whole thing has left me with a bad taste in my mouth about the willingness of parents to get involved in schools (which is HUGE) and why a few have to pull the load for the masses.
And you know what, I totally don't buy the "I work full time, I can't volunteer at the school" argument. We all work in some way or another and there are a million ways to be involved at school that don't required hours and hours of time.
We're all busy, we all want to spend time with our families, but if we would all pitch in just a little and share the load, it would be so much better. What's that saying? Many hands make light work? We want top notch education for our kids, but it doesn't come for free. Are we willing to work for it?
But then, I realize I'm preaching to the choir once again. Thanks for listening to me rant. I just got an e-mail asking me to make food for teachers this week. Also on the e-mail? The same 15 people who are always on it. GAH!
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
When the Cleat is on the Other Foot
First, the good news.
We went to Denver for a soccer tournament. Our U10 boys won their division. Awesome.
Here are the happy, little champs!
And now for the bad news. Remember last spring when I was complaining about obnoxious soccer parents? Truly, I hate obnoxious parents at sporting events--no matter what the sport. Personally, I find the hockey parents scariest of all, but soccer parents can hold their own.
So not to downplay our team's efforts at the tournament this past weekend, but the team was clearly placed in a bracket that was too easy. They won the first game 11 - 0. Second game: 17 - 1. Third game: 6 - 1. And I have to say that all of these teams we rolled over so badly, lost with graciousness. Their parents were also gracious. There was no snarking on the sidelines. There were some tears from their players, but heck, I felt like crying for them, too. Even though someone has to lose, it must be hard to lose that badly. And there's no mercy rule in tournaments because everything is on a point system--you want to score as many goals as possible to improve your ranking.
Anyway, the boys, who were understandably very excited by their success (and they did play amazingly well), made it to the championship game. The other team was from the Denver Storm--the team that beat ours in the finals last summer. I'll admit, we all, players and parents alike, were a little bit nervous about the face off. And we all wanted to stuff it to this team, frankly. They played roughly--not aggressively, I'm OK with that--last summer. I don't dig unncessary roughness and unsportsmanlike conduct from anyone and this team took the cake. A lot of pushing, tripping and elbowing and not really caring who saw it.
The game started. It was rough. It was aggressive. We scored three quick goals. And then there was a collision between one of our players and one of theirs. Just a collision--no one in particular at fault. But despite the fact that it was just a collision, one of our parents chose to make a very loud, nasty comment that many of their players and parents heard.
I was mortified. The other parents on our team were mortified. And it was all downhill from there. From then on, the opposing team's parents felt like they could say whatever they wanted because "we" had pretty much thrown down the gauntlet. It was painful to sit on the sidelines and listen to them spout off--they obviously felt justified because we were horrible soccer parents.
Ugh. That game couldn't end fast enough for me.
And the bummer is that all of our parents were tarred with that same brush--we were all branded as ungracious because of one parent's comments. I hate that. In the end, we beat them 5 - 1. It was a dirty fought game by their team, but the satisfaction of our team winning was gone because I was so embarassed by one person's behavior.
At one point during the weekend, when we were clearly rolling over all of the competition, a tournament official said he wanted to invite us back in the spring and put us in a higher bracket. I can't even imagine how we'll get bracketed now--I'm guessing they're out for revenge! But maybe I'm just being paranoid.
For now, I'll just focus on hockey. Because, oh yes, hockey has started and we're running between two sports for the rest of October. Sports are colliding.
We went to Denver for a soccer tournament. Our U10 boys won their division. Awesome.
Here are the happy, little champs!
And now for the bad news. Remember last spring when I was complaining about obnoxious soccer parents? Truly, I hate obnoxious parents at sporting events--no matter what the sport. Personally, I find the hockey parents scariest of all, but soccer parents can hold their own.
So not to downplay our team's efforts at the tournament this past weekend, but the team was clearly placed in a bracket that was too easy. They won the first game 11 - 0. Second game: 17 - 1. Third game: 6 - 1. And I have to say that all of these teams we rolled over so badly, lost with graciousness. Their parents were also gracious. There was no snarking on the sidelines. There were some tears from their players, but heck, I felt like crying for them, too. Even though someone has to lose, it must be hard to lose that badly. And there's no mercy rule in tournaments because everything is on a point system--you want to score as many goals as possible to improve your ranking.
Anyway, the boys, who were understandably very excited by their success (and they did play amazingly well), made it to the championship game. The other team was from the Denver Storm--the team that beat ours in the finals last summer. I'll admit, we all, players and parents alike, were a little bit nervous about the face off. And we all wanted to stuff it to this team, frankly. They played roughly--not aggressively, I'm OK with that--last summer. I don't dig unncessary roughness and unsportsmanlike conduct from anyone and this team took the cake. A lot of pushing, tripping and elbowing and not really caring who saw it.
The game started. It was rough. It was aggressive. We scored three quick goals. And then there was a collision between one of our players and one of theirs. Just a collision--no one in particular at fault. But despite the fact that it was just a collision, one of our parents chose to make a very loud, nasty comment that many of their players and parents heard.
I was mortified. The other parents on our team were mortified. And it was all downhill from there. From then on, the opposing team's parents felt like they could say whatever they wanted because "we" had pretty much thrown down the gauntlet. It was painful to sit on the sidelines and listen to them spout off--they obviously felt justified because we were horrible soccer parents.
Ugh. That game couldn't end fast enough for me.
And the bummer is that all of our parents were tarred with that same brush--we were all branded as ungracious because of one parent's comments. I hate that. In the end, we beat them 5 - 1. It was a dirty fought game by their team, but the satisfaction of our team winning was gone because I was so embarassed by one person's behavior.
At one point during the weekend, when we were clearly rolling over all of the competition, a tournament official said he wanted to invite us back in the spring and put us in a higher bracket. I can't even imagine how we'll get bracketed now--I'm guessing they're out for revenge! But maybe I'm just being paranoid.
For now, I'll just focus on hockey. Because, oh yes, hockey has started and we're running between two sports for the rest of October. Sports are colliding.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Mother Guilt
I'm having one of those days where I feel like I'm pretty sure I don't deserve to have children. I'm tired. I've had a crick in my neck for the past three days and it's affecting my sleep. I've been working late to finish several articles before we go on vacation ONE WEEK FROM TODAY. The house is a mess. Declan woke up on three separate occasions last night with nightmares. And this morning I yelled at Finn for spilling his milk at breakfast. I. Feel. Horrible. I know nothing is to be gained by the Guilt Trip, but will I ever learn? Probably not.
In fairness, Finn was playing with toys at the table, something he has been told not to do over and over and over. . . .again, which resulted in the spill. And it all happened while I was trying to get breakfast over with, lunches packed, snacks packed, sunscreen on, everyone out the door to school, and prepare for a meeting.
So while Finn went up to his room and changed out of his milky pajamas into clothes, crying all the while that he "wanted Daddy," I got down on my hands and knees, sopped up the mess and cleaned the floor, I seethed. Was I seething at myself or at him? I find I lose it more with them when I am out of control in my own life. They're suffering for my poor planning, poor timing, poor whatever. And I hate it. UGH.
Finn gets over things pretty quickly. After he came back down and we discussed for the 50 bazillionth time that we don't bring toys to the table, hugs restored his happiness and he went off to school seemingly unscathed. Not so for me. I have dwelled on my behavior all morning. Whatever happened to not crying over spilled milk? You'd think with all of the other challenges our family has had, I'd have a little perspective. Apparently not.
Sometimes being self-employed and working at home stresses me out as much as working full-time used to create stress. To be home or not to be home? That is the question. You think you get it right, but it's really all just a big guessing game. One of my friends told me once that she's a better parent because she works. I found that when I worked full-time after Declan was born, I couldn't get my head in the game at work. And when I was at home, I was worried about work. What was my problem? Why couldn't I do what so many other mothers do? I still ask myself that. Should I be able to run the house, work part-time, serve on PTA committees, volunteer for school activities, run errands, and generally get done what needs to be done without breaking a sweat? It seems like everyone else can do it, and many of them work full-time. What is my problem?
An incident involving mother guilt happened this winter that has been causing me angst ever since. It involved me and another person who had an e-mail conversation about a third person and their personal choices about parenting. Lame, I know. A fourth person came into the e-mail chain and was upset about the conversation--rightfully so--because even though the conversation wasn't directed at her, she is in the same situation. Bottom line: I have no business commenting on other people's choices in life. Heck, I can't deal with my own.
Why would I bring this up now? Because I've been fretting about the whole thing for months because I hurt a friend's feelings. And besides, who am I to pass judgment anyway? What could I have been thinking? Even if I had my own house in perfect order, which of course, I don't; never made a mistake, which of course, I always do; never second-guessed my decisions about work/life balance, which I do all the time, I still should not be making judgments about other people in any regard.
And so, a little spilled milk has caused all of this angst and reflection today. Right now I just want to go over to Finn's school and give him a hug and tell him I'm sorry. And SM, I don't know if you still read or if you've gone away because of what I wrote, but please know, I feel terrible for having those thoughts, for verbalizing them and that I hurt your feelings/made you mad. I am so sorry.
I hate it when I learn things the hard way, especially, when like Finn, I know better. Hmmm, except that supposedly I have a few more years of experience.
In fairness, Finn was playing with toys at the table, something he has been told not to do over and over and over. . . .again, which resulted in the spill. And it all happened while I was trying to get breakfast over with, lunches packed, snacks packed, sunscreen on, everyone out the door to school, and prepare for a meeting.
So while Finn went up to his room and changed out of his milky pajamas into clothes, crying all the while that he "wanted Daddy," I got down on my hands and knees, sopped up the mess and cleaned the floor, I seethed. Was I seething at myself or at him? I find I lose it more with them when I am out of control in my own life. They're suffering for my poor planning, poor timing, poor whatever. And I hate it. UGH.
Finn gets over things pretty quickly. After he came back down and we discussed for the 50 bazillionth time that we don't bring toys to the table, hugs restored his happiness and he went off to school seemingly unscathed. Not so for me. I have dwelled on my behavior all morning. Whatever happened to not crying over spilled milk? You'd think with all of the other challenges our family has had, I'd have a little perspective. Apparently not.
Sometimes being self-employed and working at home stresses me out as much as working full-time used to create stress. To be home or not to be home? That is the question. You think you get it right, but it's really all just a big guessing game. One of my friends told me once that she's a better parent because she works. I found that when I worked full-time after Declan was born, I couldn't get my head in the game at work. And when I was at home, I was worried about work. What was my problem? Why couldn't I do what so many other mothers do? I still ask myself that. Should I be able to run the house, work part-time, serve on PTA committees, volunteer for school activities, run errands, and generally get done what needs to be done without breaking a sweat? It seems like everyone else can do it, and many of them work full-time. What is my problem?
An incident involving mother guilt happened this winter that has been causing me angst ever since. It involved me and another person who had an e-mail conversation about a third person and their personal choices about parenting. Lame, I know. A fourth person came into the e-mail chain and was upset about the conversation--rightfully so--because even though the conversation wasn't directed at her, she is in the same situation. Bottom line: I have no business commenting on other people's choices in life. Heck, I can't deal with my own.
Why would I bring this up now? Because I've been fretting about the whole thing for months because I hurt a friend's feelings. And besides, who am I to pass judgment anyway? What could I have been thinking? Even if I had my own house in perfect order, which of course, I don't; never made a mistake, which of course, I always do; never second-guessed my decisions about work/life balance, which I do all the time, I still should not be making judgments about other people in any regard.
And so, a little spilled milk has caused all of this angst and reflection today. Right now I just want to go over to Finn's school and give him a hug and tell him I'm sorry. And SM, I don't know if you still read or if you've gone away because of what I wrote, but please know, I feel terrible for having those thoughts, for verbalizing them and that I hurt your feelings/made you mad. I am so sorry.
I hate it when I learn things the hard way, especially, when like Finn, I know better. Hmmm, except that supposedly I have a few more years of experience.
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