Parenting

I was reminded recently that our children need guidance and depend upon the boundaries that we set for them to feel comfortable. I knew this prior to being told the other night, but it made me feel better about my parenting style. It was also suggested that I make choices for my child without letting her know what is going on and without her input. While I am aware that this parenting style exists, it is not my style nor within my nature to make life altering choices for my child without at least discussing it with her. My daughters input, while not the deciding factor, does have some weight when I am considering the best way to proceed. I was also reminded that at 10, she is still a child, something that I have more of a tendency to forget than to remember due to 10 being the age at which I was asked to care for my younger brothers and take on a lot of responsibility that does not belong on the shoulders of a child. Being reminded of those things, I am reconsidering just which details, if any to share with my daughter regarding her fathers poor choices and the reasons that he has spent the better part of the last three years sitting in the local county jail. She is asking tough questions, like why I don't think he is a safe person for her to go around in a car in, and why I have decided that he will only be allowed to visit her at the house on certain days, and why when he doesn't show up when he says he will and doesn't call that we don't dwell on this fact and we go about our plans without him there and enjoy ourselves anyway. I'm in this tight position, where I have to stand up and be the bad guy to protect my child from a person who very much loves her, but has thus far proven that he is incapable of making decisions that have the welfare of my child in mind. In order to keep the welfare of your child in check you must have control of the situation. He says he would never allow my daughter to be hurt, yet in the next sentence he says he can't control other people's actions. Right, you can't control someone else's actions, but you should be in control of your reactions to them.
Another thought, last night I was with a friend, we took two of her children and my daughter trick or treating, on the way back there was a discussion on the fact that her 7 year old sons room now has posters of the Corona girl, scantily clad of course, the Budwieser girls, again indencently clothed hanging on the wall. She admits that if you didn't know who lived there you would believe that it is a teenage boy and not a 7 year old boy. She says, I had hoped those things would come later, but I have no control over it, people have just given them to him. I held my tounge, but if he were my 7 year old son and it were my friends or boyfriend or what not, and if it were my house, the answer would simply be, to the person giving these items to him, that these items are not appropriate for his age level, and furthermore I refuse to teach my son to objectify women in such a manner.
I'm glad I held my tounge, it would only cause a fight, but why do not more parents choose to be strong and lay down the law rather than to utilize the reasoning I had no control over it, it just happened.

Birth Control

You know, you hear a lot about the teen pregnancy rate being out of control. Some of those teens are looking for unconditional love that they think comes with having a child of their own. Well, I have often thought that any time spent with a child of any age, on a bad day, is great birth control. Take for instance my nearly 10 year old daughter. OH MY, what a bear, if, at 15 I had to spend a week with her, I don't think I'd EVER want to have a child. On the good days though, I wish I had five more just like her.
Today, is one of the bad days, is life going to be one big snotty argument for the next 8 years, oh I really really hope not. Today, the room is a disaster, well every day that is not the day after I've cleaned it the room is a disaster! Par for the course? I suppose so, let me see, how old was I when I finally wanted to keep my room in some reasonable condition? HMMM, around 16 or so I guess, I clearly recall quite a few arguments about a dirty room right around the age Sydney is now. OH, our children our truly our parents revenge.
Ok, so there are really good things about having a nearly 10 year old daughter. Sometimes she says very funny things. Like today, when I was messing around by not using the gas pedal to get up the street to our house, she says "You are aware that if you drive like this tomorrow, we are going to be really late." Or when she does something thoughtful, like fix me a cup of coffee or draw me a pretty picture.
So, the next time you hear of some lonely little teen thinking it is a good idea to go out and get knocked up, tell them that it isn't the sleepless nights that they have to fear during baby hood, it is the day they start to talk back and develop personality.

Found out I'm Normal Today

HA!! For the last year or so I've been a member of a group called motherless daughters, which I joined, because, well...
So today I stumbled on to a site about parentless parents and parentless children, and I could have written the articles that are there, they could be pages from my journal, things I have done for years and thought I was weird. I thought I was weird or that there was something wrong with me because I still miss them so much, but I'm not weird, I'm normal! Ok, well now that I've figured that out, I'll keep on trucking.

Blessings

I was about 10 years old the night my mother sat me down and told me to count my blessings. How she came to this amazing conclusion that I needed to do so, and how she could see that there were so many blessings to rejoice in is amazing to me in looking back. We were living like refugees, my mother having spent all the money my father had left, moved us back to her hometown to live near her family. She and my brothers were secretly staying in a house that was supposed to be vacant, our furniture and all of our possessions piled high throughout the house, I was staying with my grandmother. We were not all under one roof, we did not have a space of our own, she was very depressed, and yet, she told me to stop crying and count my blessings, and I did, they were typical 10 year old blessings, my dog, my mom, my brothers. We had our own apartment shortly after that, but I've never forgotten her sitting down and making me count my blessings, I do it often, I have a rule that I have to come up with at least 10 each time. I've passed that on to my daughter, I make her count her blessings when she is sad, I make her stop and say out loud at least 10 things she has to be thankful for.
I didn't have a perfect childhood, but I was blessed with an amazing mother. Despite her illness she gave me the strength to carry on, the power to love through pain, the power to find something to be thankful for even when the days are dark. She passed on a thirst for knowledge that is never quenched an appreciation for music, and faith in God. I wish that I had been able to appreciate her when I was 18, but 18 is a hard time and we girls don't always appreciate their mothers until later. Even through her death she taught me something, I know that although Sydney and I will have our hard times, she will one day, say like 20 years from now, not find me so annoying and embarrassing.
I've been angry with Mom for a lot of years for leaving me, I've been angry that she isn't here to rally me on and to hold my hand when life is hard, but I forgive you Mom, I forgive you and I love you and I know that although you are not here physically, you are here in spirit.

Remembering to stop and admire the view

This weekend is the Reno Balloon races. An annual even which by chance was the occasion 12 years ago that first brought me into Reno. Leaving my Grandfather's house in Colfax one night and stopping for a few hours sleep at my Aunt's house in Truckee, I was awakened from a peaceful sleep, stumbled to my Uncle's friend's car, and was driven to Reno, where we parked on a hillside, just in time to see the glow show. The glow show begins at 5 a.m. and a formation of four or five balloons light the dark sky in coordination with music, and then at around 5:30 they take off in formation, their beautiful colors only visible against the dark sky as they release gas into the burners to rise in the air. Oh what a beautiful sight, one that has stuck with me through all these years, yet I've never managed to pull my bum out of bed and get down there to see it again. 4 a.m. is quite early, especially on a weekend when I would normally sleep until 8. Last year we almost made it, but it was daylight before we got to the field, this year though, we left the house by 4:45, sat in traffic just a mile from the field, and we were able to get to the field just as the dawn patrol began to light up the sky. There were tears in my eyes, tears of joy for the absolute beauty that I saw before me. We ventured further onto the field, sitting amongst the other balloonists who were preparing their crafts, we went and explored the booths above, the vendors selling beautifully hand made hot air balloon wind chimes, made of stained glass. It was an absolutely amazing experience to catch just a bit of someone belting out America the Beautiful and to find that suddenly this field, which was reportedly filled with up to 50,000 spectators, fall silent as they all listened and then later to watch as those same 50,000 spectators rose from the blankets and chairs they had been seated in for the last 2-3 hours to recognize our National Anthem and watch as planes from the Stead Air Field flew in the missing man formation in tribute to those lost 8 years ago in the 9/11 attacks. The morning grew more amazing as we laid directly under the mass ascension of the 100 or more balloons who were there to participate in the event. The tears kept flowing, because it has been a long and dark summer for me, because I've been sad and grouchy, because I haven't felt well due to neglect of my health. I think we all have a tendency to forget to stop and admire the beauty around us, to catch the sunrise, to show our children something amazing, despite their grouchiness at being pulled out of bed to stumble to the van at a very early hour. Peace has returned to my heart, I actually felt it come back to me today.

The way the world changes

Last fall when we had our first parent teacher conference in the third grade, I was concerned about my daughter having to cope with learning cursive when she hadn't even learned to print neatly. My concerns were quickly put to rest, albeit replace with a bigger one, when I was told that they would no longer teach cursive, as it had become obsolete with increased use of computers. Ok, I looked into it, I researched it, and although initially it was hard to grasp, I can see where that is true, and I'm ok with that. A little sad, but ok. Today I asked about spelling lists, why no Friday tests with a new list on Monday. Oh well, no longer will they be taught through traditional spelling lists, they will learn spelling through phonics study, no spelling homework necessary, all done at school with a focus on a different block each week, I guess spell check works best if you can get close to the sound of the word, right? Again, shock and dismay, confusion and questioning as to whether in the long run this will hurt or help my daughter. Thank heavens for the Internet! So I look up this method, seems that by learning the relationships and rules of word combinations rather than learning and memorizing one word at a time, they will learn more. Well, I can see how that works, but the answer to my question on the way home (am I old or is this crazy?) seems to be that I am old! Get with the new program mom! How am I to help my daughter if I don't know the way she is being taught, my goodness there doesn't seem to be enough time in the world to keep up with the changes and then to do my own school work. Better change majors from Social Work to education, just so I can follow what is going on! Have to think on that, I really believe I'd make an awesome social worker, but I can do one and go back for the other. The call to teaching gets louder and louder. Next semester I will be finished with my general ed credits, I'll have the associates and can make the decision in another few months. Lots to think about!

Life goes on

On Saturday I made a trip to my favorite thrift store, looking for a table to create a small workspace for school, and any other good things I could find. I walked up to the table, which of course I found right away, because when I go searching at this particular store I always find what I want, that's why it is my favorite. I turned, in search of somone to mark the table as sold for me and out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother's head board. First I thought it must be an illusion, I stared accross the room, I knew before I reached it the sound it would make when I opened the cabinet, I knew before I opened the drawer the lining that would be inside. The tears flooded my eyes, that headboard was a part of my life from the time I was four until the night she died next to it. They wanted $150 for it, not an exorbant amount, but more than I should spend for sentimental value when the bedroom set I own is nicer, newer, and bigger. My brother, ever the voice of reason, says "That is not Mom's, it is like Mom's" I choose to believe he is wrong, it is not unheard of to find items from the past at the thrift store, just the other day a man found his mother's entire collection of LP's at the thrift store, identified them by her name and address labels that had been affixed 30 years earlier. He had not seen them in 20 years. He bought all of them, of course.
There is a book by Stephen King, entitled Needful Things, a story about a man who has a second hand shop in which each character finds something that he has long been searching for, the local goodwill is my Needful Things store, but I don't have to make a deal with the devil to retrieve my memories.
In the end I did not buy the headboard, it will go to someone else and become their memory, I bought two bicycles, one for myself and one for Sydney instead, ensuring both my mental health and physical health for the moment. As much as I miss my mother and regret all that was lost to me when she died suddenly, I realize that this is my life and it goes on the way I need it to, not by living in the past but learning from it.