Endings and Beginnings

 It's been busy here.  A bit of reno but most of the busy has been my mom and my youngest son KC.  It's a story of endings and beginnings.  Mom is 90 and has lived two states away from us for more than 25 years.  Til recently it has not been a problem.  But as she ages it has become more of a concern to me. She lives on a second floor and has to also go to the basement down some very sketchy steps to do laundry.  If she needs help she is 2.5 hours from us. During Covid lock down we could not travel to her.  I began to realize that this was a situation that should change.  She did too, but it is hard for her.  

She has lived in this apartment for 20 or so years.  It holds memories and lots  of stuff.  Not in a hoarding way, but more than she needs and can realistically care for. It is a two bedroom so she has a room that is just a study with two desks and file cabinets.  Again, more than she needs but that is hard to say to someone.

About 8 months ago she did agree to apply at the high rise where I work.  Her name came up more quickly than anticipated and it looks like she will move in this month.  The process has produced some excitement for her---the idea of being close to the grandkids and my wife and I,the prospect of attending church with me have been happy thoughts for her.  The idea of an elevator so she does not have to do stairs has been a plus.  But there are also things that produce anxiety.  The very act of moving and realizing that all she owns will.not.fit.  She will be moving to a lovely one bedroom apartment.  There is a great view of a pond and she is close to two city parks and will be able to enjoy nature which is great.  But again, a one bedroom unit.  To try and alleviate the stress I have rented a storage unit.  We will store things she is unsure about and/or which don't fit in the new apartment there.  She can "audition" some of her furniture by doing this.  For instance the woman has two kitchen tables.  One she presently keeps in the front hall of the apartment building. She can't do that in the new place.  She can try one of them in the apartment and we will store the other one.  If she doesn't like the first one, we will swap them.  The one that ultimately is not chosen we can donate or put on marketplace.  It will be the same with the two desks, and other items that she feels unable to decide about.  This has helped calm her a bit.

She is realizing that she does not want to drive in a new city and is considering giving up her car.  At 90 I think that is a good thing.  She is close enough when she moved that I was planning on taking her shopping anyway.  She is grieving the loss of what she once had--the ability to walk at the oceans edge, gatherings with work and church friends ---many who have passed on now or who are less capable than she is.  It is good for her to move but also so hard.  It is a reminder that the wheel of life keeps turning and time on this plane is finite.  It is hard for me too, as she is obviously less capable these days and not the Mom or Nana of years past.

But this is also a season of beginnings.  KC has applied at three colleges.  His intent is to major in dance and minor in film.  He has been accepted all ready at two of the three.  His top choice school, which also offers an amazing financial award toward his tuition and his third choice school which offers a modest award toward tuition.  He has not heard from the second choice but interviews with them this week.  My gut is that he will go with the top choice school but he wants to tour all three and make his decision from that.  All the schools are in our state and within 90 minutes of our home.  He knows he does not want to be further than that from home as family is his touchstone in a very deep way.  February is not only a time of moving Mom to a new apartment but also filled with weekends of the college tours.  

I am so excited for him.  This is his dream and he is chasing it with vigor and purpose.  It is also hard.  Hard to imagine him not in the house every night.  Or here when I get home from work, asking how my day was.  Or dropping him off at dance.  He is so intensely woven into the fabric of family life, that this will be a big adjustment for us all here as well.  This is absolutely what every parent wants for their child, but oh I am still going to be crying into my pillow when he leaves.

Suddenly 18

 KC is 18 today!  Obviously this is not 18 pictures, but it is a reasonably good photo glimpse of how somehow that wee tiny baby who honestly only fit in doll clothes, is now this tall handsome young adult!  How this happened I don't know. It feels like not long ago that he was so young, so needing of help.  Our buddy in everything we did. The little guy who needed me to sing him to sleep every night and who put on "shows" after supper for us every single night.

Now he is a thoughtful kind and engaging teen, someone who has found within himself the capacity to lead peers, to teach dance, to work on making a positive impact in the world we live in.  I am so proud of him.  I am also frequently scared for him.

I will be forever grateful to have been chosen to be this young man's mom.  I will always remember leaf piles and puddle jumping, the first terrifying dance recital and the triumphant ones that followed. The hikes and homeschool classes, the silly traditions we have that make up family life. The joy and magic that he has brought to us all. Today we celebrate all that he is in many ways--favorite breakfast rolls made by me, birthday dinner made by big brother Rob, and a viewing of a show at the theater.  Happy Happy Birthday dear son!

Weekend Warrior Woman!

 This weekend I kicked it into high gear in the bathroom project.  I got almost all the wall demo done and also took up the old tile floor and the subflooring. 

This picture was courtesy of my wife, surprising me with a candid pic when I lease expected it.  But actually today what I wanted to write about was not what I was doing physically, but how I have worked to help this be tolerable for my son Chet. Chet has Aspergers.  He is very much a person who craves consistancy.  He has his evening shower (now bath) at the same time every night. He has a snack at the same time every day.  He takes the recycling out at the same time every day.  You get the gist of things.  The guy does.not.like.change.

And here we were planning the biggest change to our space that we have ever done.  I knew when we started this that I would have to use care to help Chet get through this.  Knock wood so far we have been melt down free.

I started explaining what we were thinking of doing way before we did it.  I explained that we talked to two companies and they could only do a portion of this work for between 10 and 13K  If we took this on ourselves and did it with minimal contractor input we would have a more functional, beautiful space when we were done and we would not probably pay 1/2 of those numbers in cost.  Chet is analytical so this helped.

I also took time every weekend to explain what I was going to focus on that day before I did it.  Even if I explained it the week before, I did it again.  I gave him 20 minutes to ask all the questions he wanted and then I would move him along so I could get working.  Chet will literally ask questions for hours if you don't put an end time on things.  He would check back in with me at snack time to see what I had done so far.  It helped keep the mystery out of thngs.  I have a pretty thick skin where Chet's concerned. I know that he does not mean to be hurtful.  His saying things like "what are you destroying now?" is not meant to hurt my feelings.  I just always explain that I am taking apart things that don't work for us so we can install things that do work for us.

For instance, I demoed a closet. I am going to build a new one there with better and more functional shelves and a sliding barn door that can have towel bars on it.  To Chet, the old closet was "perfectly fine" and i had to take the time to show him why it wasn't.  Explaining it calmly and quietly helped.

I had to alert him to noise.  I never start work before he has his breakfast and does his hygiene so tha the can get upstairs before I start banging.  If something is extra noisy like the tub removal, I warned him and I kept the bathroom door shut to try and minimize the sound. Chet is extremely sensitive to sound.

I have found ways that he can help.  I had him help me carry the pieces of the cast iron tub to our dumpster. I have had him hold doors open, or fetch tools.  Not a lot, just things here and there so he feels a part of the process. 

I have showed him the new components that I have purchased for installation. The new toilet has been vetted for energy efficiency. I showed him the insulation and explained why I bought this specific type of insulation instead of the fiberglass.  I showed him why having a new shower head with a detachable hand shower would be helpful.  He needed concrete examples which I had but it made it possible for him to feel we did not have to save our old showerhead.

In some ways, all of this is more exhausting than the labor of getting the bathroom down to studs. But he has stayed calm and that is really really huge. We are all looking forward to the completion of the job but if knowledge helps him deal with the inconveniences I am all for it.

Stretching his wings

 As parents we expect our kids to grow and leave home.  Except mine haven't.  Chet is unable to live independently, and Rob has stayed happily here at home.  He is going to be 25 this spring.  By this time many kids have at least lived away from home for college.  When he went to college he commuted.  While there was an element of cost savings involved, there was also a need on his part to feel rooted and connected. Early trauma leaves its marks.

I was especially glad he was still living at home when the pandemic rolled around and he lost his job in the food service industry as a result.  Thankfully he found a new job in a new field a few months into this and has been working steadily. The restaurant he had worked at since before college never reopened so this was a double blessing.

A  few weeks ago he texted K and I pictures of an empty apartment.  It is pretty.  Lovely hardwood floors (first thing the family reno queen noticed! LOL) It is in a city about 30 minutes from us (the city where our church is located, but we have not been there since last March) He plans to share the apartment with someone else. The primary leaseholder is a friend of one of his coworkers. So Rob does not know the other fellow very well. But he says J says he is a great guy and lived with him for 6 years before he got married and moved out. Rob's rent share is really reasonable. They will split utilities and there is a free washer dryer in the building.  

He saw the apartment in person this weekend and really liked it.  So I know he will be moving at some point in the near future.  My guess is probably around mid March.  I am happy for him.  I am sad for us.  Rob is a quiet loving presence in our family.  Sunday nights we do the dishes together after dinner and talk.  He is that guy who is always there to lend a hand and always has a smile. I'll miss that smile at the dinner table. It will be weird not to hear his steps on the stairs past my bedroom when he comes  home from work at night.

But this is what should happen and I hope with all my heart that it goes well for him and is an exciting step into independence.  Now please excuse me while I go get a kleenex and sob for a few! (smile)

Romance in the time of Covid

 Everything is harder in The Time of Covid.  Small errands take much longer, finding needed products takes longer and typically costs more.  And i our KC who is 16 has his first romance.  A is a lovely young woman and KC is a very caring and respectful young man.  He has been enarmored of her for over a year. She came to our church last fall and they bonded quickly over shared interests in dance and theater.  But they were just friends until the past couple of months.

And Covid makes this so complicated.  A does not live in our city.  So her "bubble" is not really the same as ours. She is schooling remotely, but like my wife and I , her parents both work outside the home.  (Mom is a university professor)

We had to have a weekend where they did not get together because A's mom travelled down south by plane and was down there for a few days to help a friend in crisis.  K and I were just not comfortable with A then coming over to our house for the day.  It was understood by her  parents but it was a hard conversation to have with my teen.  It isn't that he was unkind about it.  He just looked so crestfallen and it literally made me cry inside.

Her trip  quarantine is now over and KC will see A at youth group tonight.  He asked if we thought it would be okay for him to hold her hand when they walked to their cars after youth group.  We said yes, just to please use the hand wipes in the car afterwards.  At some level this all just feels so surreal.  I am so proud that he was careful and mindful of the fact that we need to still take precautions, but my heart hurts for the two of them.  First loves are supposed to be that time of giddy-anything is possible-the world is full of wonder times.   It's not that for them, but it is still special and magical and I am so grateful that it is that.

Girl Time

All right folks.  My tech skills are obviously a bit lacking tonight as for the life of me I can't make the picture anything but sideways.  And of course, we were not laying on our sides to take this picture.  Instead, my lovely Elisabeth and I had a girls afternoon at a hair care event in our city.  It was specifically for people of color and I was definately in the minority.  I didn't mind a bit.  It is important for Elisabeth, who is 11 now (and incidently HOW did my baby get to be 11?) to be surrounded by strong brown and black women. These women in addition to many owning their own businesses, know a lot about hair and self care.  People were friendly and easy to engage in conversation--course I am chatty by nature so you generally have to give me the cut direct for me to realize you don't want me hanging around!

They spoke knowledgeably about the dangers hidden in many of the cosmetics and hair products that are used.  They spoke on the importance of healthy diets and having a healthy self love.  There were free samples, free healthy food snacks and a time to talk and build connections.  She had a wonderful time and really enjoyed it.  She told me afterwards that it is usually hard to sit still so long but that this was interesting.  She is of an age where she has much more say (and often her own cash) involved in purchases and I feel that since she is such a fashion forward young woman, I want her to hopefully make smart choices that will enhance her beauty if that is what she wants, but not undermine her health.

We have had this gathering on our calendar for weeks but it was this weekend that a picture came through my Facebook feed of a TRA black child with a photo shoot in a cotton field with her white parents.  Seriously?  I have no words for the anger I feel at the insensitivity.  That lovely young lady could have been in a field of wildflowers if you were going for the nature look.  It did not have to be something associated with slavery and degradation of a people.

Do I think the parents intended it?  Nope, but I sure do think they were insensitive and that they need to do things like what we did today.  There have to be times my kids are not in the minority. Whether it is me being the only white face at a birth family reunion, or a gathering like this,  Adopting my children is not a case of them somehow becoming me with more melatonin.  It also means I have an obligation to honor and celebrate who they are and help them to feel positive about themselves.

Aside from all of that, it was just a "girl time" experience for Lissa and I. At 11 she is becoming a witty, sometimes sarcastic, but pretty clever and enjoyable companion.  It was a super fun experience.  I also came away with a contact for a photographer.  She was at the event and had a really calm demeanor.  We need to think about getting another family portrait done. The kids have changed so much since the last one.  Finding one that is a good fit for Chet can be a challenge but I really liked this woman's vibe.  We shall see.

Bunny Blues

There has been another round of huge staffing changes at the home where Fiona lives.  It also goes higher up the food change with a clinician change and some new faces in upper management.  I can't speak to whether any of this is good or not. Frankly I liked our last direct care team very much and the 15 months or so that we worked together were some of the healthiest ever for Fiona.  I felt they got her, not just her needs, but who she is as a person, beyond and above all the cognitive and behavioral stuff.  The inside part that so often struggles to be seen and validated.

However I see huge storm clouds on the horizon.  This team contacted me last October about Fiona having a pet.  This was something she asked for and they went up the chain and got approval for.  I was not the driving force in this.  While I know that pets are therepeutic, while i know that Fi adores animals and is good with them, I have had deep concerns over the plan.

Loving pets does not translate into having the ability to provide regular and appropriate care.  However my opinon was not solicited and a plan was put into place.  Fiona has been working the plan which included a certain decreased level in holds, a certain level of cleanliness in her room and other goals.  It has been a long road but she has met these requirements and thought that this Christmas she would be able to buy her bunny.  (part of the goals were also financial and budgeting for the pet care and the supplies the pet would need.

A couple days ago Fiona called me and said she was worried that staff were backing away from the plan to get her the bunny.  I said I didn't think that was the case but that i would contact the team.  I did and my daughter is correct.  The new team point person said "gee it is not our practice to permit pets for a variety of reasons yada yada yada."  We are meeting next Friday as i have the day off to discuss this and develop a plan.  There will be no good resolution to this if they are recanting.

My daughter has had too many instances where people have broken faith with her.  This is going to be another and she will hate every single member of this team forever.  Or at least till they all ride off into the sunset and the next crew come on board.

To complicate things, we just let Lissa get a small dog.  If Fiona can't realize her dream of pet ownership it is also going to create a difficult dynamic here to negotiate.

What the new team does not know is that I have saved every single email to me and from me regarding the pet issue.  Actually I save every email with this agency period. And if I have a phone call, i send a follow up email saying "this is my understanding etc etc. and asking for their confirmation."  I don't know that this will help her get the pet but it will help me if I have to take this up a notch concerning the way they are handling my daughter's care.

Wandering and Wondering

 Last night the younger kids and I went on a walk.  We spent a bit of time at a park on our block.  It was a place we spent hours and hours at when they were small, basically from 6 months old to about age 7 for Lissa.  KC was about 9 when we pretty much stopped going.  The park is geared to the younger set and suddenly, the magically dinosaur themed  equipment was no longer massive.

The dinosaur that KC spent hours trying to climb was now an easy hop and a jump.  There are still large swings that Lissa enjoyed last night.  While she was swinging KC and I walked around the park.  He is a lover of memories, my child most likely to treasure a card or a "remember when" moment.  And sure enough, he was recounting all the things we did over the years there. When certain pieces of equipment arrived, who we met there.  Who we were still friends with despite having moved on from "dino days."  Funny anecdotes, like the splashing contests we sometimes had in puddles there.  It all came flooding back to him and we both really enjoyed revelling in the re-telling.

He got a bit weepy over the fact that he doesn't enjoy the park in the same way any more.  Moving on is hard for anyone and I suspect a bit more so for KC who clings to the magic of childhood with tenacious grip.  I reminded him that the greatest gift the dino park gave him was the fact that it was so magical that at nearly 13 he could remember how special it was and that nothing would take that away.  He smiled and said that he wanted to make sure that when he has kids that they go to the dino park just like he did.  I said that maybe they would, but that if life took him some place else, he would remember the fun we made there and would find something like that to give to his kids.  It was sort of an "ah ha" moment for him to realize that you could draw from the beauty of an experience and not necessarily have to replicate it exactly.  A huge growth moment among falling leaves and beautiful memories.

Musing

Time flies!  Perhaps more than my wife, I have always been aware of that.  She would get frustrated when the kids were little and there were so many sleepless nights/diapers/snowsuits/  I would always say "it is only for a season."

In reality i should have just been quiet while I was helping!  She was frustrated and didn't get what I meant. It wasn't the right time to share that.   But now, suddenly it is hitting her.  The little guy in the picture above will join a Coming of Age program in our church.  He is on his way to being a young man.

Rob is in his second year of college.  There will not be too many more years with him living here, and Miss Lissa at 9 is all ready fiercely independent and ready to take on the world in so many creative and exciting ways.

I know that things that have been the same for us for many many years, are due to change soon.  The way holidays get celebrated, the times all of us are able to be together. Even who is home for supper.  These changes make me melancholy.  I know the wheel turns and it is right that it do so.  But I miss those baby fingers curled around mine.

On the other hand, the changes also have heralded the advent of occasional (and likely ever increasing) adult time for my wife and I.  It is easy to lose relationships in Parent Land.  And the times that we nearly did lose it, I know it was my fault.  My circle of friends is really large, but they are mostly also parents of other kids.  My wife craves time sans children, and has a circle of friends who either never had kids or whose children have flown the nest. I have less in common with them, though I do like them all.   It has made things challenging for a few years but as the wheel turns and the kids become more independent there have been more walks with just she and I. More nights by the fire pit with a glass of wine.  Occasional lunches out for just us.

These are good and the balance--the yin to the yang of the nest slowly emptying. Rediscovering, reimagining our relationship for the years to come and watching the kids set sail on their own journeys will be a new adventure.

My not so free range chickens, er kids

It has been interesting reading about the issue of the kids who were walking home on a busy street alone and the parents got into problems over it.  I think that is wrong and that it is the right of those parents to decide if those kids are savvy enough to be safe doing that walk.  By all accounts, the parents seem to have done a good job; starting out with smaller solo walks and building up to that one.  That said, I'm not that much of a free range person for myself--I just don't want the government stepping in and telling me when and how to parent.

I read on social media about people who say they roamed their neighborhoods freely as children--leaving the house at daybreak and returning when the street lights came on.  By the time I was a child in this same city, that was not really the parenting style.  I did not have helicopter parents, but they knew where I was and there were designated times to check in.  The times between check ins got longer as I grew into teen years, but I still had to check in. And it was a given that if my family expected me in one place and I didn't inform them of a change in plans and wasn't there if they needed me--all bets were off on future freedoms.

My friends all thought I had a way more laid back family set up than they did. They had rigid curfews, and really strict guidelines on where they could go and when.  And all this was before there was an app to tell me how many pedofiles live in my neighborhood.  Before the apartment building next door became a sad home of a number of substance abusers (somewhat sarcastically called the Heroin house amongst us)  It was way before I saw people do a drug deal at the corner store where we buy our milk.  There were fewer cars and they drove slower.Stores were not open on Sundays so we could and did mess around in the parking lots with skateboards or home made instruments of death defying fun.

So here in our city--which is not a bad city--just sadly, a fairly typical one, I am not so free range.  We go on family bike rides and I'll let the kids be far enough ahead that i have to watch them, but I could speed up and get to them should the need arise.  I don't let either KC and/or Lissa walk to and from the park alone.  Part of it is that I know that Lissa would not listen to KC who is by far the most likely to be responsible. She is very strong willed,fiercely competitive and frankly can run faster than he can. If she takes off, he's not catching her.

I try and parent with an air of just matter of factness when we gather to cross one of our busy streets.  Right now we hold hands because the ginormous snowbanks make visibility a challenge. There has been a fatality of someone walking home and being hit by a plow.  It was no one's fault, but extra caution is warranted.  There is also a ton of ice underfoot.  So I just say we are being careful due to winter weather and that this way I know everyone is coming across at the same time.  I don't say "hold on tight to my hand or you're gonna dieeeeeeeeeee!"  LOL

Where I can be more free range is when we go camping and I suspect that is a facet of camping that my kids love more than all the back to nature stuff that I adore.  They typically have a little posse of kids and they roam the campground together from dawn to dusk, checking in much as I did when I was a kid.  There are times when we are doing something as a family and we all break off but when we return, the little gang of fun loving kids magically reappears. They need that.  They need to do those crazy things that I did (like trying to walk on rolling cable spools)  They need to catch fireflies and chatter with kids out of adult earshot.  Camping gives us that. There is a leash, I suppose.  I have the kind of check in system that my folks did but it seems to offer enough freedom for them to explore and stretch, at least for now.

Spooky Celebrating draws near

This weekend is fully packed with an insane level of fun for the kids!  Today there is dance, then a friends birthday party, then decorating at the clubhouse where I work for the kids halloween party tomorrow. I was so lucky to get to use that space for this.

Tomorrow is church and the annual UNICEF carnival and then back to do the final prep for the party and then it's party hearty from 3 to 5ish. The house has been abustle with preparations. Cookie baking, treat bags to stuff, decorations to make, games to build etc.  The kids have all in some way contributed to the efforts.  I want them to have fun but they also need to understand what putting on a party is The plan, the process, the fun end result. . Someday I fully plan to sit back and know that they are capable of throwing one themselves. They are surprisingly close to that.

KC pretty much gets it.  He was in bed last night worrying that his friends would not have fun.  LOL  I assured him that no one could come and not have fun.  Games crafts food and costumes are a pretty winning combination. But what he would need to do as the host was to make sure that everyone felt welcome as both he and Lissa have a large guest list that draws from a variety of their friends.  So there are neighborhood kids, kids from the big city where we go to church, kids from Girl Scouts and dance class and friends we met at the playground years ago and became besties with.  We talked about how you make people welcome and he visibly relaxed.  He so intensely wants people to be happy and have fun that guy.  

Rob went out with his former girl friend this week.  He is taking his new friend who is a woman to lunch later this week. There is a reasonably priced restaurant with awesome food near the college they both attend. I asked him if it felt weird hanging out just as friends with T who had been his one and only for so long.  He laughed and said not really. I wonder if he was more in love with the idea of being in love?  At any rate, he is happy and he is widening the boundaries of his world and that is what I hoped for.

I contrast this joy with the recent media coverage of the Ebola disease.  I am saddened to see people rail against a doctor who worked to ease the suffering of others. Really?  He volunteered for Doctors without Borders and you think he intentionally rode the subway in NY to infect others?   I am heartbroken to read of children orphaned by the disease who are not taken in by family or the community out of desparate fears of contagion.  Reading last night about how hard it is to get water in this part of the world, it became more easy to understand how the improper hygiene is fueling the epidemic.  It is a cruel disease and a scary one.  What is most scary to me though is the fact that in the face of crisis, our humanity to others and our capacity to act from a place of love is diminished.

More ranting about white privilege

I rarely discuss anything of substance on Facebook.  It really has not been my experience that this is a forum for anything other than sort of brief connections.  Sharing a favorite photo--yup, share a micro re-cap of a book or experience--yup.  Air out that one is a liberal who is heavily invested in a variety of social action issues?  Um, not so much!

But this week my brother in law posted something awful about the situation in Ferguson MO.  I rarely respond to his posts as he is so narrow minded  conservative that we see eye to eye on nothing except our mutual love of family.

I will be quiet about many things, But I can't be quiet when someone I love says that this is all blown out of proportion and that the person who was shot was a bad person, ergo they should die.  I wrote that my children have been followed in stores when they were separated from me. I wrote about a memorable incident when Rob was about 9 and Chet was about 19 when they were accused to stealing from a gift shop.  They left the store because I was holding the items they had wanted to buy.  Instead of cashing me out, she had run after them screaming that they needed to "pay for their things." It was my first racism in the open type of experience.  Up here in the Northeast I find people tend to be less open about it. It exists, it is just usually less blatent.

BIL responded that he was sorry that happened but that didn't mean my kids were going to be targeted as adults and killed.  No. It doesn't. but it is a symptom of a pattern of injustice and inequality.  The white kids who left the gift shop were not run after and hollered at.  Only the 2 kids of color. 

The thing is, if one has not experienced it, I guess it is easy to dismiss. To see it as an isolated instance, not a symptom of something that is wrong. Something we need to fix,because I very much believe that this is fixable. But we need to understand that cute little black boys who love to skateboard grow up into handsome black men. Who still like to skateboard incidently, but are now suddenly kicked out of the area you let them skate at when they were little and cute.   The area in question is not posted for no skateboarding. The kids were not making noise or destroying anything.  I truly believe it was that suddenly, they were not "little" and there is a cultural perception of threat when kids of color become young men. 

We need to understand that hoodies don't mean thugs. And just as my BIL would want me to believe that all drummers in heavy metal bands are not druggie losers (which he most definately is not) we need to see people not stereotypes.  When we do that, more mamas may worry less about their sons coming home at night.

Appalled by Di*ney!

Last night the kids were watching a show on the Disney channel.  Apparently the boy in the show is adopted.  He approaches adoptive mom as she is leaving for a trip and says he needs her help.  She says sure and he says he wants to know about his birth mother.

Immediately the mom character starts shifting around her body posture.  She does not meet the kids eye. She asks him if this can wait till she gets back from her trip. . . or when he gives her grandchildren.

I was incensed. I confess I did not watch the rest of the show so I don't know how it played out.  But I did talk with my kids about how angry it made me to walk through the living room and see that.  KC said that he was glad that I wasn't like that character. That I took his need seriously and answered his question right away. And that I didn't hide from it.

While i am glad that my kids see that, I am concerned that a far wider population probably saw that dreck.  First of all to turn anything about adoption and first families into a comedy is pretty much against my grain. While our lives have comedic moments, I don't think how we came together or what my kids lost in the coming together is comedic.

I wonder if people subliminally take away a message that this is not something you ask your family about. I wonder if parents think, hey, see people don't  like/want/need to talk about this.

Our children are fragile, wonderful and magical beings. They deserve the best of who we are and if we don't give them that by sharing all of their story, we have broken trust.

Feeling sorry for myself

I think I should not read facebook first thing in the morning when I have a migraine.  I am overly sensitive and it is not smart.  I read my sister's status cherrily announcing  how she has three main support systems in her life and how grateful she is for them.  Her husband, her father and her god.  I was a little bit stunned that I was not part of the support system as I have always thought I was a supportive big sis, but okay.

It was more the second support that kicked me in the solar plexus.  My father.  The guy who has not seen or spoken to me in more than 25 years.  Who flies my sister out to visit him annually, and who visits her when he comes to the east coast.  The man who has only met one of my five children.  He knows my number. He knows my address.  He chose to move across country without saying goodbye to me, though he went to visit my sister.

He is the only person in my life who ever managed to make me feel inadequate and unworthy.  I thought I was past feeling that way--and most days I really, really am past that.  Just not today.  OK, pity party over now, I promise!

Reflections

I have been thinking lately on the relationships between parents and kids.  I somewhat obsessively check in on my own relationship with my kids.  I don't want to become distant, or self absorbed, or find myself trying to mold them into my vision of what they would/should/could be.

I am lucky as I learned to let go of the molding thing with Chet.  This is a gift from my differently abled child who could not be like neurotypical kids.  There was grief for me. A lot of it. Some of my grief was for me the parent. For the things we could not help him to experience. For the opportunities and milestones that he would miss.  For the things we could not even do together as a family because it overwhelmed him.

Some of my grief was for him.  He was and is aware enough to know what he was missing.  He knows he never went to prom. He knows he can not drive a car.  He knows that he has been unable to maintain a job. I have learned to  point his strengths out to him when he is down on himself.  To remind him of his cheerfulness to all, to remind him that his helpful nature is noticed and that he is loved.

And that has taught me to let go of my grief and my expectations and to focus on the positive more.  There are many challenging times, don't get me wrong.  It is particularly challenging that there is never an issue that is "solved"  If it is a non NT behavior response it will return.  You can count on it.  Parenting Chet is sometimes like that movie Groundhog Day.  Lots of do-overs whether you want them or not.

But that has taught me something else. To enjoy other people's  kids the same way.  I have friends right now who are struggling because they have a set of expectations for one of their children that the child can not achieve.  The child's apparent unwillingness is I think not something the child can control. There is a deeper issue there and I see in the child, many aspects of my Chet.  But you don't walk up to someone and say "gee I think your kid is on the spectrum." I would have clocked anyone who did that to me!

So I just said how much we enjoy their child's presence in our home (true) and that they are welcome here anytime.  The parents said they might take us up on that as there are "more bad days than good lately".  My house is different, with a structure born of different  cognitive processing being front and center in our lives. If this works for them, and gives a chance to breathe and re-group, I am happy to do that.

Stylin!

Last night was the first formal dance that Rob escorted his girlfriend to.  They spent about 10 days coordinating their outfits.  The photo is predictably low quality but he looked very sharp.  For all that he is all about skinny jeans most of the time (with the accompanying annoying amount of boxers hanging out above them) he knows how to dress up when an occasion warrants and doesn't balk at it.  This gives me hope that someday I won't be looking at his boxers on a regular basis. LOL

I realize that among other parents that I interact with I am in the minority. My wife thinks I should "do something" about the boxer/skinny jeans thing.  I have friends who clearly feel the same, judging from Facebook posts and such.

My take is that if  a kid has the capacity to understand that different dress is required for different situations, then fighting about clothes is a waste of time.  And potentially damaging to our relationship.  If I am going to put my foot down, it has to be about something that I deem important.  Not harming yourself or others, not engaging in lawbreaking activities, truth telling, those are my "line in the sand" type of issues. Clothes?  Not so much, since I remember hiding a whole different outfit in my purse to change into when I got to school.

It is a bit odd in our house as I have one child who can not understand appropriate dress due to his disability.  Additionally he has the further advantage of being color deficient. So for Chet, the dress code is different. I have had to clearly delineate "home clothes" and "go out to church/dinner/visit relatives clothing.  This way I can refer him to the type of clothing and he is more likely to choose something acceptable to the situation.

At any rate, for last night at least, I had no glimpse of boxers and rumor has it that the well dressed chap even danced!

Lissa gets her library card!

One of the things I have learned as a parent is that each of my kids is motivated by totally different things. Chet got a library card because he loved to read from an early age.  Rob struggled a bit to master reading but was enthralled with the very atmosphere of a library.  It was a quiet place where he loved to spend time and he got his library card early on.  KC learned how to write his name by his 6th birthday so that he could join the illustrious ranks of being a "card holder". He is very much the guy who is always trying to keep up with the "big bros."  Lissa is coming up on age 6 (her birthday is in December). Suggestions that she learn to write our last name so that she could get her own card were viewed with, um apathy is a word that springs to mind. Zero interest.  Yawnsville.  Why bother when she could take out books and movies on my card or her brothers?  Our last name is relatively long and though she can write her first name, she was completely uninspired to challenge herself.

Till inspiration struck.  Like most libraries, ours has computers.  Lissa always wants to use the computer in the children's room.  I have always said that they are for kids who don't have a computer at home.  Till I realized that hey, she needs a children's library card to access said computer.  Total light bulb moment for the mom!  I explained this rule to her--which is true.  Adults can't use their card on the children's room computers.  She spent this week feverishly practicing our last name.  And wrote it flawlessly on her new library card this morning.  Whereupon she then had 30 minutes on the library computer playing exactly the same game on line there that she plays at home.  LOL

Big City Plans?

Well last night it looked like all systems go for Rob's trip with friends into the Big City.  A little back story on the trip is probably in order.  My wife and I are the kind of parents that are always on the same page--except when we are totally not!  LOL  As in, we agree about most things, but I am 100 per cent behind this experience.  My wife is not. She feels he is too young, that any number of horrible things may happen and that we as adults should be there to make sure they are okay.  However, with considerable grace she bowed to my fairly intense badgering on Rob's behalf.  I pointed out the fact that Rob is more Big City savvy than she perhaps knows.  He goes into town with me regularly to see Fiona. He knows the train schedules. He knows the area that they will be in, if not completely, at least enough to be both safe and to have fun.  So I thought it was a  done deal.

Till Kirsty told me this a.m. that she got several emails from 2 of the other parents of the kids involved and that they were all concerned about the trip. And. It. Should.Not.Happen.  I talked tonight with the dad of one of the boys who will be going and it seems that he and his wife, like K and I are a house divided.  He is actually totally fine with his son making the trek with this group.  Fine with him being at our house for the night. Thinks the plans are sensible and allow enough freedom for kids their age to have fun and test their wings a bit.

He and I mostly wound up brainstorming as to how we could bring the other 2 parents on board.  We decided that Rob would write up a detailed plan and put it on Facebook to share with the parents and all the kids who are coming.  This way everything is there--the times of the trains, the cost of the tickets, everything.  Even little details like the fact that I have told them to buy round trip tickets so they don't run out of cash and have a glitch trying to get a train home.

So it isn't a sure thing yet, but things are looking better.  Cross your fingers and toes, because I want this for them as much as my son wants it, I think.  I believe passionately that my kids can't live in bubble wrap.  I would LIKE to do that, and to know that they were safe in every situation. The reality is:  I have not been safe in every situation.  I learned from those experiences and by the grace of the goddess I am here today.  That is what I hope and pray for for them.  And for them to know that I am always here for them.

Re-Claiming

My "real" birthday is January 21st.  I have not celebrated it on that day since I was 19.  That year my father chose to leave right after my birthday celebration.  I knew he was doing it; it was this miasma of hurt that flowed over everything that day.  But I hated it.  I hated watching the pain in my mom and my sister's faces.  I hated the fact that he thought I was not supposed to care.  The next year I could not dream of celebrating on that day.  Everything was raw and fresh.  I chose to celebrate my birth on September 9th instead.  It was my grandfathers birthday and he was someone who I loved and admired deeply.  A therapist could make all sorts of very logical connectionis about this.  They would probably be true.  My father and I don't have a relationship.  He remained close to my sister but although I tried to have a relationship with him, it didn't work out.  He moved across country and never told me.  I am not one for begging or needing to be beaten over the head to get the point, so that ended things.

My kids have   always known the story of how my "new" birthday came about.  In some ways it has been helpful to have a painful experience like that.  They have experienced greater losses than I but there is a thread of understanding  and connection that they feel because of this.

Except that KC feels it is wrong.  He spoke with Kirsty yesterday and informed her that they had to bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow. Kirsty reminded him that  the kids and I usually leave to go shopping before she gets up in the morning.  KC was adament:  "She can at least have a piece of toast in bed Mom," he said.  Kirsty reminded him that we always have a big party in September.  "I know Mom" he responded, "but this is the day she was BORN that we are talking about here."

I've not thought about my actual birthday in years.  Unless I need to renew my license it is a non issue to me. But my son's love and sincerity is so touching that tomorrow I will really enjoy my toast in bed!

Weary Campers are home!

We are back from our camping weekend!  It was exhausting but a lot of fun.  I can't believe I am headed back to work today but I suppose if I stayed home I wouldn't get rest anyway!  LOL  The kids made me take this pic at our camp site to prove that we got our big honking tent up on our own--except my dear friend L who saved us from swimming in the late night Tstorm that hit--by helping me w/ the fly.  This is a big 6 person tent and not meant to be put up by less than 2 adults so it truly was an achievement.

The campsite was beautiful and quiet. . .  in bear country.  In a campground where there was a bear that had been active.  The registrar gave me and the kids lots of info on this and how to handle ourselves if we saw the "young bear."  Thankfully we did not and trust me my kids and I were close together any time we were at camp.  We tend to move as a tribe anyway but there was a subtle added layer to that this weekend.

Then the registrar said "you know you need to portage in to the site, right?"  Gulp.  No I sure as heck did not know that.  I didn't pick the site really for this gig.  My friends did.  The funny thing is that they didn't know that either.  It was not a long portage, and the camp graciously provided wagons for bringing your gear.  But it did take 3 or more trips to get the stuff there and a real significant learning curve on how to get said wagon down the creek bed, up the hill and onto the path to our site without tipping it over.

There was a bathhouse a long way (1/2 mile) from our site with flush toilets.  Chemical toilets somewhat closer.  And the wash stations  you had to pump your own water.  For my kids it was a fascinating experience as we typically camp at the ocean where there are hot and cold showers not far from our site, running water in the bathroom near by, etc.

It was rustic but beautiful.  And because I pull my kids around in a wagon a lot, on Friday night I borrowed one of the portage wagons and we used that for them to ride in while we got the lay of the land at the campsite. 

I had been hoping for some amazing star gazing as we were far from the street lights that are our norm.  Sadly it was cloudy both nights.  We had a campfire the first night and our friends came over and sat at it with me and our kids romped at the site.  C. and L. loved watching the performances that they would come up with together.  They danced and sang and did lots of silly things that one would only giggle at probably if one was a parent of one of the kids. 

The next morning my kids woke early and A. did as well.  Her parents are not folks who race off anywhere though so after an hour of chatting at the camp site and the kids playing, they gave me the green light to head to the theme park ahead of them and we made plans to meet up at noon.  I'm glad they did as my kids were about to expire with excitement. They were not whining about when we were leaving (to their great credit) but they were positively vibrating with suppressed excitement.

I'll do another post about the 2 parks we went to and post a few pictures.  It was a lot of fun.  Tiring but a lot of fun and I consider it good training for going to Disney next spring! LOL