Hot Button Issue

I have a need to get up on my soap box and write about a pet peeve of mine.  It is the "Parenting" vs. "Raising Children" issue.  I believe that the concept of "parenting" is one that has been created by my generation.  Believe me, my parents did not "parent".  Nor did their friends.  They raised their children and lived their own adult lives.

The term "parenting" is parent-centered.  It focuses on the parent and what the parent is doing.  "Raising Children" focuses on children and how they are going to become productive adults and citizens.  My parents raised two daughters.  They led by example.  They guided and taught.  They also maintained their own adult lives and relationships and did grown-up things:  dinners out with friends, work functions, volunteer responsibilities, etc.  They hired babysitters when they needed or wanted to go out.  They did not attend any of my practices and few, if any of my games or activities.  Nor my sister's.  Not because they didn't love us or support our interests, but because they knew and understood that the interests belonged to my sister and I and not them.  They did not fight my battles with friends or teachers, rather they advised me on how to handle issues and conflicts.  They were strong role models.  They encouraged me to get jobs, work on school breaks and to go to college. The road was rough at times.  And fraught with potholes.  But they focused on the goal of making my sister and I independent, productive adults.

Today's parents are different.  They talk about "Parenting".  It has become a verb.  They focus on what they are doing for their children.  They are parenting.  They focus so exclusively on their children and their children's wants and needs that they have no lives outside their own kids/nuclear family.  I hear so many friends talk about how they spend their weekends and evenings going to soccer/ football/ swimming/ hockey/ dancing practice /games/tournaments/recitals. They don't go out with their spouses or friends to dinner, movies, for drinks, parties, etc.  Their acquaintances are their children's teammates or childrens' friends' parents.  Their social life is centered on hanging out at their kids' practices and even attending games that their child refs or umps.  REALLY?  You watch them do their job?  Kinda like watching your kid gather carts at Wegmans, don't you think?  They do so many things for their children, that their kids are not independent and can barely function on their own.  They fight their kids' battles by calling other kids and their parents, writing notes to teachers about mundane things like who is friends with who and "why didn't my child get chosen to pass out napkins for snack?", calling school to ask what is for lunch.  They fund so many sports and activities, wants and  "needs" (what kid needs a media-capable cell phone?) that they can't afford dinner, babysitters, weekends away, or even essentials.  And trust me, very few of these kids are going to get scholarship money and even fewer are going to become wealthy professional athletes or Olympians.  They try to be their kids' friends and to be friends with their kids' friends.  They are not good role models of what adults are supposed to be and do not show their kids how to have adult relationships.

I feel like the black sheep of my group of peers.  I don't hang out and watch my childrens' sports practices.  I pick up and drop off.  I try to encourage the kids to carpool and to make the arrangements themselves.  I don't go to all the games.  Some, but not all.  Watching children run around the soccer field or play machine pitch baseball (7 balls before a strike out) is not that enthralling. (Admit it, you secretly agree with me).  For the most part, all this stuff (in my opinion) is well organized and supervised play dates.  I certainly don't sit through a little league baseball game that my kid is umpiring.  He is working.  It's his JOB.  I'm not about to watch him bag groceries or wash cars.  I don't fight my kids battles.  I talk to them about how they may chose to deal with an issue with a friend or a teacher, but I rarely step in.  They need to own the problem(s) and solve them.  Because of all this, I am not a part of the "in-crowd".  You know them, the moms who hang out at soccer, at PTA, at the baseball field.  The fathers who you wonder how they have all this time to spend on the field or the sidelines..  Adults who wear their children's school/team colors and logos. (How long ago did YOU graduate from High School?)  I feel like an outcast.  But trust me, I am OK with this.  I also (gasp) hire babysitters who (gasp) are not family.  I go out with friends, on dates, and on my own.  I go away for weekends when I have an opportunity.  My children are limited to one sport a season.  Discussions are had about limits and what we can and cannot afford to do/have.  I let my children know I love them, but I also have a life. They are important and so am I.

I believe in raising my children to be productive, independent citizens.  I want them to go forth and be happy.  I want them to understand that happiness comes from confidence which comes from independence and experience.  I also plan on having a life once they are on their own being grown-ups.  I hope I do not sound selfish.  Some people may think that I am.  Personally, I think THEY are.  They are holding their children so close and centering their lives so much on their children that they are deriving their own identity from them.  In short, they are living vicariously through their kids.  What pressure that must put on their offspring.

I fear what my peers, my generation and those under us are creating.  I worry that we are creating a generation of people who are so used to being the center of things that they will not be able to function in a group setting such as a work environment, a part of a couple, a part of a team.  That they will not be able to solve problems.  That they will not be able to handle disappointment.  In short, that they will be immature, spoiled brats.  Scary thought.

Ok, time to put my soap box back under the bed.  And maybe even hide under it for a while.

Counting Blessings

I haven't blogged in over a month.  Although I have to admit that I did do a little writing.  I wrote poems for my class and poems in my head.  One rainy weekend, I obsessively wrote haikus for no apparent reason.  While driving. At one point I had to pull into a parking lot to write down my 17 syllable thoughts on the rain.  Weird, but true.  So, after admitting to a friend that I started a blog I thought it might be a good idea to get back to blogging. First, I read my (few/limited) posts.  I realized that they are very personal.  They reveal more about me than most people, even close friends know.  I also realized that they are a bit depressing.  I guess this winter was more challenging than I realized at the time.  Thank God it is Spring, well, at least by the calendar it is even if the weather is not cooperating.

I have decided to take up blogging again.  I find writing to be cathartic.  However, I think I need to be more positive.  I am generally a positive person.  Except when I'm not.  But after a long winter, I think I need to count my blessings and focus on the positive.

So here goes, in no particular order....

Blessing #1: Carl.  Hands down, the kindest, nicest, most amazing man I have ever known.  He is generous, funny, smart and all around wonderful.  He is also stubborn, Italian (Sicilian) to a fault, and has more projects going than I could begin to keep track of.  He has brought me more happiness than I thought I could experience.  He has encouraged me and supported me through good and not-so-good times.  He constantly refers to "us" and tells me "we make a good team."  He makes me smile.

Blessing #2:  My sister.  My sister is my best friend.  She knows me like no other person ever has or ever will.  She is funny and smart.  She is an amazing mom.  My kids adore her.  I am so blessed to have her here in town, just around the corner.  Even if she wasn't my sister, she'd still be my best friend.

Blessing #3:  My friends.  There is nothing like girlfriends.  They are an amazing collection of women.  Many are fellow teachers but some are not.  We get each other.  We help each other.  We hold each other up.  I, personally, will never forget how they held me up when I needed it.  I credit them for getting me through the toughest times of my adult life.

Blessing #4:  My kids.  Even though these tween and teen years are proving to be challenging, I am blessed with 2 healthy, smart kids.  They are slowly maturing and growing before my eyes and I cannot imagine my life without them.

Blessing #5:  My job/career/chosen profession/calling in life.  Teaching has brought me many joys and frustrations.  But most of all, it has brought me the ability to be me and to get paid for it!  It has given me the ability to support my children, be available to my kids, and to be creative.  I can't imagine not having been a teacher.

Blessing #6:  My faith.  It may not be perfect, but it is mine.  I find that it gives me peace.  It helped (and helps) to lay my worries at God's feet once a week.  Sometimes, the power of prayer scares me.  Cause it works!  I remember my son asking me one day if God really answers your prayers.  I told him yes but not always in the time frame you want or the way that you want Him to.  I know this because it has happened to me.  It has given me pause.  I don't necessarily always agree with the doctorines of my chosen religion, but I do believe in the power of a higher being, the serenity that faith can give, and the need to give my children a basis in faith.

So, how's that for positive?  I hope it is more uplifting than my last post.  I guess I must have been having a bad day.  Amazing what a little sunshine, some green grass, longer daylight hours and a little perspective can do for a girl.  :)

Snow Day

Today was our first snow day of the year.  It is what every student and every teacher who lives in a northern climate dreams of.  An unexpected day off.  The gift of time.  No agenda, no responsibilities.  Be careful what you wish for!  Today's snow day was lackluster.  First there was all the hype about the storm that was coming.  (Beware of the hype... nothing ever lives up to the hype).  Plus, there was the anticipated closings.  We knew at 2:00 that there would be no school the next day.  The whole thing was so planned, so contrived and so disappointing.  Where was the anticipation, the wonder, the surprise, the joy of a snow day?  Because we knew we would have the next day off, it stopped being a day off.  It became a day on, complete with lists of chores for the next morning.  We knew we could sleep in so we turned off the alarm clocks, instead of turning on the news at 6:00 a.m. and waiting in child-like anticipation for our district's name to be scrolled across the bottom of the tv screen.  And then the storm never materialized.  Gone was that feeling of being snowed in.  Gone was the gift of time.  Gone was the feeling like we had a whole unscheduled day ahead of us.  I really missed that feeling.  It is like an indulgence, a guilty pleasure, a whole day off. 

I spent the day cleaning and doing laundry.  The kids spent the day in an endless cycle of getting along and bickering.  Meals were made, dishes done, clothes put away.  The snow never really came until later in the day.  There wasn't really even enough to send them out to shovel. 

I usually love snow days.  But I want a good, old-fashioned one.  One that results from a real snowstorm.  So you feel cozy in your house with all the heavy snow coming down outside the window.  One that you find out about by checking the news from 5:30 a.m. on, watching the list twice just to be sure.  One that stretches before you like untouched snow: pristine, clean, unmarked.  One that feels like the gift of time.  One that feels like you earned it.  One where you make popcorn and drink hot chocolate after bundling up to go out with the shovel.  One where you don't have a long list of chores facing you when you get up.  One that feels a little bit guilty.

Don't get me wrong, I liked the day off.  I did a lot of laundry.  I didn't have to go to work.  I stayed in my pj's until noon.  But I felt like I missed out on something.  The "gift of time" feeling.  The excitement of a snow day was missing because of the early call off.  Be careful what you wish for.

Conversations with an adolescent

This week was a bad week in my house.  As a result, groundation ensued. Groundation is hard on both the one who gets grounded and the one who does the grounding.  Essentially, I grounded myself.  All in all, we both deserved it.  The teenager in question deserved it because he was mouthy and rude, said bad words, generally acted jerky and got crappy grades.  I deserved it too.  I was mouthy and rude right back, said bad words and generally over-reacted.  Not that I would admit that to my son.  I was definately not the model of decorum nor a good role model for my child.  For now, I'm going to blame it on my hormones and stress. 

So, after the estrogen hurricane and the testosterone tornados blew over, Matthew and I talked.  Well, I talked and he sort of listened (in between thoughts of "I hate my mother").  He is passive aggressive to the extreme so he can really be challenging.  I talked and he laid in bead quietly.  The next morning we tried again.  We came up with goals, rewards and consequences.  We wrote them down.  He was quiet and generally compliant.  He stayed that way for several hours.  We packed up and headed out to ski.  He read his book for English class all the way to EVL.  Very quiet.  He did his homework in the chalet while the other kids hung out.  I finally let him out to snowboard.  I wasn't going to originally but part of me realized that he needs a physical outlet as much as I do, maybe even more.  So he snowboarded, hard.  On the way home, in the dark, with his sister asleep in the backseat, we talked.  Both of us.  He is smart.  He gets it.  I am starting to.  I am glad I changed my mind and let him snowboard tonight.  It went against the groundation rules but it did open some communication for us.  Besides, he had to turn down a skating party, an opportunity to go to free skate at the town rink and a sleepover this weekend.  And he is technically still grounded and has no phone until further notice, so I guess a little work-release was ok.  For both of us.

Teenage Dreams

I am the owner of a teenager.  This is not an easy job.  It is like riding a roller coaster without a safety belt.  Scary, thrilling and somewhat nauseating.  The teenager in question is a tall, lanky, moody child.  Teenage-dom did not create this.  He has always been tall, lanky and moody.  Even at birth.  But now he is this way on an even larger scale.  With the added bonus of testosterone.  Conversations with my child are like watching a tennis match on speed. At the end of the match, one has whip-lash from how quickly the tone changes.  One minute he wants to hug me and says "I love you mommy" and then next, he is stomping off somewhere yelling "I hate you.  You ruined my life".  All because he feels his immediate needs are not being met to his satisfaction.  He did this when he was two, only back then, I could put him in the time-out chair.  Time out at this age involves much more creativity.  To make it all more complicated, I am parenting essentially on my own.  My ex and I have not spoken in over a year, and before that, any communication from him was simply a dissertation on my faults and alleged poor parenting.  Anyway, as a single mom of a boy whose father is abusive, I am faced with many challenges.  I have no one standing behind me backing me up or insisting that he respect his mother and behave.  I have to insist.  I have to follow through.  I have to be both parents at once. 

My son has many good qualities.  He can be sweet.  He is smart.  He has beautiful eyes.  He has an amazing sense of humor.  He can snowboard with incredible grace.  But, he has my stubborness and my Italian temper.  He has his father's ability to lie, tease others cruelly and be amazingly lazy.  He has my lips and my freckles.  He has his father's height, high metabolism and lanky body.  He and  I both love comedies, especially anything that has Chevy Chase, Steve Martin or Bill Murray.  His father and him share a love of video games and sports.  Loving him is not easy, but it's not hard either.  Especially when he is sleeping. 

I am not sure how I am going to navigate these waters.  These are stormy times.  I can only hope that the testosterone storm winds down before the estrogen storm begins.  Because I also have a daughter who has less than 3 years to teenage-dom.  And her estrogen will be gearing up just as mine is winding down.  But that is a story for another day.

Welcome

I have never seen myself as a writer.  In fact, I have always thought that I suffer from chronic writer's block.  However, I have always wanted to write.  Just put my thoughts down on paper, not really tell a story, just put my thoughts into print.  As a teacher, I am most insecure about teaching writing.  It feels hypocritical to me.  I don't write and feel I can't write, but I demand that my students write.  I should take my own advice.  Anyway, I took a writing course.  And then another.  And today, a third.  Same instructor, same approach to teaching writing.  And for the first time, when she asked us to write, I wrote without hesitation.  Just a paragraph, but I wanted to continue.  And so I have decided to find a way to put my thoughts in print.  Random thoughts.  Thoughts from a single mom.  Thoughts from a teacher, a sister, a friend, a lover, an aunt.  Parts of my day that stuck with me.  So here goes.  Wish me luck.