Tuesday, February 9, 2016

The Responsibilities of Parenting



Parenting is weird at my house these days. 

Really weird.  Mostly because I don’t find myself doing a lot of it any more.

Don’t get me wrong.  Better Half and I still live here.  We still foot the bill, ask the questions, drive the carpools, “inspire” by nagging, impose the curfews, listen to the stories, play out the worst-case scenarios in our heads, drive ourselves crazy, and try to steer Pozo de Dinero in the general direction of The Good Ship Lollipop. 
But now that our youngest child is fourteen and our oldest is a month shy of twenty-one, our responsibilities have shifted.

We used to be responsible for our children.
We were responsible for their safety.  For their basic needs.  For their health.  For their welfare.  For their behavior.  For their grades.  For their friendships.  For their spiritual/moral upbringing. And being responsible for all of that stuff takes an awful lot of doing.  From sun-up to sun-down kind of doing.  Sometimes with very little sleep.   

But now I’ve discovered that we’re moving out of that phase of parenting.  We are becoming less and less responsible for our children.

We are knee-deep in experiencing our teens as unique individuals completely separate from Better Half and me.  They have their own thoughts, ideas, paths, and stories. 

This is both freeing and terrifying. 

Sometimes—many times—they do or say or think unbelievably amazing things that leave me in awe of the humans that they are.  The mother part of me who has spent all of her adult life being responsible for these people wants to take credit for them. 

It’s also terrifying.

Because sometimes, they do or say or think unbelievably bone-headed and crazy things that leave me in fear of how on earth they are going to survive until their brains are completely developed.  The mother part of me who is 62% martyr and 38% narcissist feels obligated to take responsibility for these things as well.

But the thing is, they are reaching a point where they are responsible for their own thoughts, feelings, and actions. And I firmly believe that for me to take either the credit or the responsibility for their choices or ideas or actions is to diminish their individuality and squelch an important part of their process of becoming an adult.

As we enter this new stage with our kids, I’ve noticed something.  The responsibility hasn’t diminished.  But instead of being responsible for them, I find that we are now responsible to them.

I am responsible to love them unconditionally.
I am responsible to be an example—both by being transparent with my mistakes and forthright with my successes—of the kind of person I hope they will be.
I am responsible to listen.
I am responsible to ask questions.
I am responsible to forgive and to offer grace and to allow them to experience natural consequences of their decisions—no matter how hard it might be for them, or for me.
I am responsible to stand beside them if they need an ally.  
I am responsible to be truthful with them.
I am responsible to be the voice of reason (when I can—when they’ll listen) that bridges the gap between their frontal lobe and the rest of their brain until that connection is made.
I’m responsible to stock the fridge, keep the laundry detergent full, show them how to manage their finances and then get out of the way and let them make their own lunches, turn all their white socks red, and have their debit card denied because they added instead of subtracted, or misjudged the day their paycheck was deposited.   

Most importantly, I believe I am responsible to pray for them.  For their safety, their basic needs, their friends, their choices, their health, their lives.  But mostly for their parents. J

Monday, February 8, 2016

Writing Prompt: Make A Fast List of Favorite Things About a Friend

Favorite Things about a Friend
1.     She’s an introvert.  This means when she lets you in and tells you things, it’s special.
2.    She’s an introvert, and yet, she was the person to make the first friendship move.
3.    She can make a single-serving bag of M&Ms last a week.
4.    She’s the most patient person I know.
5.    You can eat in her car, as long as you don’t drop French fries.  Cold, stale French fries gross her out.
6.    I think my youngest daughter would move in with her if given the chance.
7.    She despises spiders.  So much that I think her bug man might be on her Christmas card list.
8.    She’s up for nearly whatever—like loading up four kids and driving all night to Chicago to stay with friends for a weekend in their 1 bedroom apartment in Evanston.  And she’s good with detouring to try to find the Amana Colonies on the way home.
9.    She knows my kids’ favorite—everything.
10.   She introduced me to coffee.
11.    She liked me even before I drank coffee.
12.   She adores kid cereal.  Her cabinets are full of boxes of Lucky Charms, Reese’s Puffs, Capt’n Crunch Holiday Blend.
13.   She hates cantaloupe, green peppers and most sausage.  I get the sausage.
14.   Her hair always looks perfect.  Even when it’s just in a ponytail. 
15.   She introduced my daughters to sushi. 
16.   Carmex will never have a sales problem as long as she’s around.
17.   There is lotion in every room of her house. 
18.   Her favorite kind of pizza is plain cheese.
19.   We don’t talk about God as much as we should, but I suspect she’s the friend who prays for me the most. 
20.  She is a peacemaker.
21.   She’s tidy, but not a neat freak.
22.  For example, before kids, her car always looked like it had just been driven off of the showroom floor.  Now it looks perfect for transporting a preschooler. 
23.  I’m no longer sure how many books on my bookshelf actually belong to her or how many books on her bookshelf actually belong to me.
24.  When we lived in the same town, she would have a birthday date with each one of my four children.
25.  She was the only person besides Brian and me who knew the sex of our last baby before she was born.
26.  She has the best sense of humor—just edgy enough to be real—but never crossing the line into too mean or too crass.
27.  In all the years I’ve known her, I think I’ve only seen her truly angry twice.  I’m not sure what that means, but boy.  It’s something I really admire.
28.  She got a dog. Not because she wanted one.  Because her daughter and husband wanted one. 
29.  Her normal circadian rhythm is to stay up late and sleep in.
30.  She dislikes flying and yet she’s boarded a plane no less than three times in the three years we’ve lived here to come visit.  Twice with a toddler.
31.  I love her daughter like she's related to me by blood.

32.   Even though there’s a wacky time-zone issue, and work schedules, and family commitments, and so I don’t get to, she’s the one person besides people to whom I’m related whose voice I want to hear every day. 

Sunday, February 7, 2016

I Want to Start Writing Again...

But I think I've lost my voice.

But I feel like I have nothing to say.

I want to write about parenting teenagers, yet I'm not willing to be that vulnerable or more importantly, make my kids that vulnerable at this point.

I want to write about my experiences in California, but it no longer feels comfortable to sarcastically complain about it, yet I don't have a deep love either.  So everything I attempt comes out flat.

I'm back in the classroom on a daily basis after years of virtual school teaching.  It's amazing.  And it's not time yet for that story.

Occasionally I have these flashes of inspiration, but they happen at the most inopportune times.  When I'm in the shower.  Driving on the interstate (I don't think I'll ever call it a freeway).  In the middle of a conversation with someone.

And by the time I actually sit down at the computer (If I was fortunate enough to remember what it was I was going to write about in the first place) my thoughts are a mad jumble that I cannot organize to save my life.

Not writing makes me sort of sad.  And I've replaced it with binge-watching Bones and re-binge-watching Gilmore Girls on Netflix.  And that's not sort of sad.  That's really sad.

So I joined this writing group for February.  500 words per day.  It's Feb. 8 and I've only written a little over 1,000 so far.

Anyone who knows me knows that my superpower is making a short story long, so the fact that I'm this far in the hole means something's off.

I bought a book three years ago by Sark called Juicy Pens, Thirsty Paper:  Gifting the World with Your Words and Stories and Creating the Time and Energy to Actually Do It.

I don't know about gifting the world.  I do know that writing's been a form of cheap therapy for me over the years.  But the time and energy thing?  I'd like some of that.

My plan...until I'm inspired otherwise...is to start on page one of this book and diligently work through the writing prompts with a goal of 500 words for each.  I feel like I'm seventeen again, enrolled in EN101--Beginning Composition.

I'm going to post them here.  Mostly so I don't lose them.

And maybe I'll find my voice.


Wednesday, September 9, 2015

The Age-Old Question...

Ominous storm clouds are looming to the north.  I hear thunder, which is something of a rarity here.

It looks like it might rain.

It sounds like it might rain.

It possibly smells like it might rain, but the wind is blowing so hard that all I can smell is freshly-released pine needles.

Oh.  And we kind of need some rain.

So...

Do I proactively remove the cushions from the lawn furniture and bring them in the house, increasing the chances of this much-needed moisture skirting our area entirely by at least 80%,

or

Do I allow them to get soaked in the torrential downpour that is almost guaranteed to occur if I leave them?

Decisions, decisions.

Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Well Done, Sisters Suffragette!



Thank you, Facebook, for taking the time to remind me--amid all of the photos of everyone's adorable dogs--that not only is today National Dog Day, but it is also Women's Equality Day.

95 years ago today, the 19th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution extended basic voting rights to yet another group of misrepresented citizens in this country--women.

History fascinates me.  When I'm reminded of the anniversaries of monumental milestones like this, my own heritage comes to mind.  I like to imagine what those moments and experiences were like for my ancestors.

Today, I'm thinking of my great grandmother.  The first seven of my years on earth overlapped with the last seven of hers, so I remember her fairly well.

Ruth Harvey Daniel was wicked-smart.  And opinionated.  She drank copious amounts of coffee and smoked unfiltered Camels constantly.  She was rail-thin.  I don't think I ever saw her in anything other than a dress and hose.  She loved babies.  I am also opinionated, and I remember vividly an argument that we had when I was four about whether or not peanut butter and jelly sandwiches should also have margarine on them.  She maintained yes.  I was in the "Eww! Gross!" camp.  She gave me a beautiful clear umbrella with blue butterflies on it for Christmas one year.

I wish she had lived so much longer.  I wish she had lived long enough for me to ask her about her life back in the "olden" days.

Today I wish I could ask her  what August 26, 1920 was like for her.

Maybe there were celebrations in the street.

I wonder if it was just an ordinary day.  Perhaps she wasn't aware anything of significance had taken place until she read it in the Kansas City Star on the morning of the 27th.

I want to know if she was a staunch Democrat even then--excited to cast her vote for James Cox and Franklin Roosevelt in the upcoming presidential election.

I imagine that she held her two month-old infant and was filled with gratitude that her baby daughter would grow up always have a voting voice in American politics.

I wonder if she imagined the possibilities that this event would present for her future granddaughters, great granddaughters, and great-great granddaughters.

I hope that she sees me today, raising a glass in toast to her and to all of the women and men of her generation who worked tirelessly for the 19th Amendment.

Equal Rights for All!


Monday, July 13, 2015

The End of an Era

Finally, after nearly sixteen years of being on her service, our very last Tooth Fairy visit is scheduled for tonight.

I hope she stops by the ATM sometime today, because the dentist handed my youngest daughter three beauties (actually, that's pretty much a lie.  I took a quick look and I think I threw up a little bit in my mouth.  Teeth gross me out.)--some of them complete with roots and everything.

Anyway, this pick-up is gonna cost her.

I'm trying to sort out how I feel about this relationship of ours ending.

In all honesty, Ms. Tooth Fairy's service here has been marginal at best.

While other kids were getting neatly folded Lincolns, Matchbox cars, Lego sets, Playstation games, DVDs, Barbie dolls, etc, our kids were lucky if they got Washingtons or a hand-full of change.  I guess she figured since they were home-schooled, there was less chance of them comparing with their peers and realizing just how much they were getting gypped.

In her defense, she did step it up once a formal complaint was lodged by our youngest.  A complaint that coincidentally coincided with enrollment in our local brick and mortar school.  :)

Rarely, if ever, did the Tooth Fairy actually complete her mission on the scheduled pick-up date.  Usually we'd have to wait around for a couple of days.  Even after we moved to California and weather was no longer an issue.

These last few visits, she's been incredibly lazy.  She leaves the money in my wallet by the front door and promises to collect the teeth "next time."

I don't get it.  I have a Facebook account, and Instagram.  She does know that I can see how well she's getting the job done for all those other kids out there, doesn't she?

As I said before, tonight is her last visit.

Here's hoping she nails it.









Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Why I'm Opting Out

It's that time of year, again.  Standardized Testing time.

And we've decided to opt our children out.

Before everyone gets too excited--this is not a partisan political piece.  Nor is it a conspiracy theory piece.  Nor is it a judgement on anyone for their feelings about Common Core, standardized testing, No Child Left Behind, or the education system in America.  I consider myself to be a political moderate--occasionally swinging reasonably left and reasonably right of center--knowing that the word "reasonably" is, indeed, an opinion.

So here's a little peek into the way my brain works and why we've decided to have our children take a pass on participating in Common Core Data Collection this year.

Spoiler Alert:  It's not (just) because I'm a dissenting pot-stirrer.  :)


I don't know enough about it.

As a teacher, I know something about the standards.  I've looked at them.  Frankly, they look okay to me.  They're not that different from what Kansas, at least, had in the past.  But the standards aren't rocket science.  Enough research has been done at this point to give us a pretty good guideline of when students should be introduced to what, what skills are prerequisite for others, etc.  As a teacher, and as a mother who has relocated her children from a central and rural part of the U.S. to a coastal and urban part, there is a good deal of comfort in knowing that what is being taught has some continuity from place to place.  The actual standards aren't the issue for me. It's the fact that as I've tried to research Common Core...where it came from...what its purpose is...I've come across some very disturbing information. "Big Brother is watching you" kind of information.  That information could be completely false.  Or it could be completely true.  Most likely it's got elements of both.  I have a lot of fact-checking to do  But at this point, I honestly haven't researched it enough to allow my children to be guinea pigs in something that's pretty new, pretty unexplained, and makes me feel pretty uncomfortable.

The test itself and the testing process bothers me.

While I commend the powers that be for recognizing the damage that has been done to our learners by spending the bulk of our school year teaching children how to choose the one correct answer out of four possible choices, and are therefore trying to adjust their testing methods accordingly,  I'm still not convinced that "Smarter Balanced" or any individual state-created alternative is smarter than a real-live person looking over a student's work and manually grading the process he/she used to arrive at an answer.
 Oh, and guess what?  Computers are glitchy.  These systems require a lot of bandwidth to run. Sometimes they crash.  I watched a student this week painstakingly spend 11/2 hours on a math section.  He FINALLY finished it, submitted it, and the system glitched.  It "lost" over half of his answers.  He had to redo that part of the test.  As I watched his face register frustration, dismay, and defeat, I saw the eyes of my three children.  Why should they be the ones that  pay the price because we can't seem to use all of our collective intelligence to find a better way to evaluate school effectiveness?  And speaking of computers...
I'm not sure about your districts, but ours here is administering all tests on iPads this year.  This is interesting, because my children still do the majority of their daily learning with pencil and paper.  They use iPads to work on projects occasionally in class, but my son stated that he has never taken a test of any kind for any class on a computer or on an iPad.  My daughter has specifically stated to me that she does better work on paper than she does on a screen.  So do I.  Yet  this is the method we're using to assess all children's yearly knowledge, regardless of  individual learning style. Oh, and about yearly knowledge...
Maybe someone could explain to me why children are being asked to take a test this week over information that they are supposed to master this school year?  What are the remaining nine weeks of the year for if my child is proficient in all the standards already? Shouldn't he/she be able to cut out early?  Oh, and for a piece of interesting information, ask teachers what they think about the last quarter of school year after standardized testing.  They'll tell you it's their favorite time of year.  Why?  Because they get to use teachable moments without the threat of high-stakes testing over their heads.  They can evaluate the individual needs of the students in their classes and adjust instruction accordingly--covering the gaps that students have (even if it's not a standard for their grade that year!) and accelerating where appropriate.  They get to introduce literature, current events, social justice, etc. into their classrooms. Sigh. I wish my children's classes could be like that all year long.

My children are more than a single score on a standardized test.

Especially when no one even seems to know what the "score to get" is going to be. If I were a betting person, I'd bet the "meets standards" score is going to be lower than most parents would be comfortable seeing on their child's grade card.  Don't get me wrong.  I want to know how my children are doing in school. I think assessment is a very important part of a well-developed teaching method.  But more importantly, I want them to develop a lifelong love of learning.  And I want to know that they're leaving the walls of their brick and mortar school buildings in June knowing more than they did the previous August.  Otherwise, what is the purpose?  None of my research to this point assures me that Common Core data collection is going to give me that information.  

My children's schools, teachers, and administrators are more than the collective percentage of students who "meet standards" on high stakes tests in their schools.

I've administered a decent number of these kinds of tests in my day,  I've looked at different testing engines, taken practice tests, and researched what kinds of questions are in their test banks.  I have never, not once, seen a question that asks a student about his/her relationship with the human being who invests in his/her education every day.  Even though we know from brain research that we retain information better long-term when we have a personal relationship with which to tie the material to.   There is no question on any of those tests that addresses my experience of meeting one of my son's teachers for the first time at Back to School Night.  Her first words after hearing "I'm Nelson's mom," were "Oh!  You just moved here from Kansas.  How is he adjusting?  Is he doing okay here in California?"  It comes as no surprise to me that she is one of his favorites and that he learns more in her class than in some of his others.  Common Core data collection isn't asking about the hours that our principal spent with students and families outside of school offering support and assistance when tragedy struck  our high school a few weekends ago, for example.  In my opinion, assessing a school's effectiveness by means of high-stakes testing is not only inaccurate and ineffective, it's lazy.

Why should teachers, schools, and districts be the only ones in the hot seat?

Yes.  Good teachers who do their jobs well are a huge part of successful student learning.  But so is having a student's basic needs met.  So is being read to and conversed with in one's formative years.  So is having (a) responsible adult(s) in the home who do things like regulate screen time and TV watching, help with homework, enforce bedtimes, etc.  If we're going to hold people accountable for the education process in this country--and I think we should--then shouldn't we hold everyone who plays a significant role in it accountable? Personally, I would be furious if there were some standardized test my children had to take to evaluate my effectiveness as a parent with regards to my part in contributing to the success of their education.  Yet, I'm just as responsible not to leave my children behind as any teacher.  Maybe more so.  My opinion is:  if it's not okay for it to be done to me, then it's sure not okay for it to be done to them.

Is this a good use of our educational dollars?

In light of school budget and money crises all over the country, I have to wonder how much money is being spent on Common Core testing. Money that could probably be better used elsewhere.

It's my legal right to opt out, and what am I telling my state and my country when I don't?

By having my children participate in Common Core data collection, I feel like I'm telling the state of California and the United States of America that I'm fine with the way students and schools are being assessed for effectiveness.  And right now, I'm just not.

I believe in American education.  I believe that we will eventually figure out a way to effectively and fairly measure students' educational progress and school quality.  I commend the people who are working hard to try to get this done.  I hope that at each turn, we're learning more, and adjusting, and changing, and improving the system.

But at this point, I don't think Common Core Data collection is the best we can do.