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Aug
28
I was one of the lucky ones to get to check out the new FamilyMap from AT&T in a compensated review from Blogher. You can read my review and enter to WIN a $100 gift card. Go on, giveaways are good for you.
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Aug
22
I apologize for the novel and the heavy topic, but this has been on my mind for a few days. Thanks for sticking around til the end.
My youngest son is twelve, and he just started sixth grade. There are a lot of changes from elementary school to sixth grade. In my town, there are several elementary schools, then all the kids come together in the sixth grade center. The school seems huge compared to the school he went to last year. Now they change classrooms every hour, instead of staying in the same room all day. More rules, regulations, procedures and work.
Oh, and more random drug testing. For the eleven and twelve year olds.
Is this only shocking to me? Is it only heartbreaking to me?
We went to the Meet the Teacher night on Thursday, and one of the teachers was talking about Odyssey of the Mind and the Robotics Club. As an aside, she mentioned that every student who participates in an extracurricular activity will need a permission slip signed for random drug testing. She explained that because athletes are required to submit to random drug tests, some parents of the athletes complained that the policy should apply to all extracurricular activities.
She also said that they are starting in the sixth grade because last year a seventh grader failed the drug test.
We live in the suburbs. There is a church on every corner, and the public school system is one of the best in the area. I’m not saying bad things don’t happen in every neighborhood or town, but this is still shocking to me.
I don’t have anything against random drug testing. My problem with the policy is that they should just make it school wide, instead of only the kids who participate in extracurricular activities. But this post isn’t really about the school policy.
My question, and this is what keeps me from being able to type this without the tears coming, is WHY is this even necessary?
I’ve said several times over the past few years how much easier things are now that my kids are getting older and more independent. Babies, toddlers and preschoolers are all so high maintenance. They are a lot of work and require constant vigilance. Now that my kids are older, they require a lot less hands on monitoring and guidance.
Wrong.
Teenagers and preteenagers need more guidance, monitoring and vigilance than any toddler. They are more independent, but that just means parents have to be more watchful.
When are the eleven, twelve and thirteen year olds doing drugs? Where are they? When are they alone with friends long enough for this happen? Where are their parents?
I am not a popular mom these days. It recently hit me like a ton of bricks that just because my kids have never been in trouble, it doesn’t mean that trouble won’t hit at any time. At this age, they can make one wrong turn and it will change their lives.
In just the past few months, I have shown up at the local movie theatre and pulled my kid out of the movie. There was no great crime committed, he just didn’t have permission to be there, and he needed to learn a lesson. My husband has shown up at the park and picked my son up, again because he hadn’t gotten permission first. When I call my son, he answers no matter what he is doing, because I have tracked him down when he didn’t answer my call before.
None of that was fun. I trust my son, I trust that we’ve given him a solid foundation and knowledge of right and wrong. I know that he is a good boy. But I truly believe that they are all good, even the ones that fail the drug tests.
They are trying to figure out who they are, separate from their parents. They are just trying to find their way, so they follow their friends. They follow kids whose parents turn them loose on a Saturday morning and don’t expect them home until it’s dark. They follow kids whose parents are gone all day, so the kids do whatever they want and have whoever they want over. They follow kids whose parents don’t ask where they’re going when they walk out the door.
I know there are kids who never have any problems. They do well in school, never get in trouble and never take a wrong turn. I hope my kids are like that. But I can’t close my eyes, cross my fingers and hope for the best. Too much is at stake.
No one in my town seems to be talking about this, and if they do talk about it, they shrug their shoulders and say kids will be kids.
- Drug testing.
- Locker searches.
- Adult volunteers monitoring the local theatre on weekend nights to try to prevent the rampant sexual activity – by kids who are too young to drive.
- The principal having an assembly to tell the eleven and twelve year old girls that they can’t wear shirts that show cleavage.
Seriously, is that kids being kids? I don’t know how we can pretend that any of that is part of a normal, typical childhood.
It isn’t kids being kids. They are trying to find their way, and no one is guiding them.
When I have brought this up with other parents, there is a lot of head shaking and comments that kids are just out of control these days.
Out of control kids. That makes my head spin. The kids should never be in control. I don’t care how mature and responsible your kid might be, they should never be in control. That’s our job. We keep them safe, we keep them on the right path, and we need to be in control.
Let’s be real honest about where the blame lies in all of this. If the children are out of control, we let them get out of control. If sixth grade girls are wearing shirts that show cleavage, someone bought them that shirt and let them wear it. If twelve, thirteen and fourteen year olds are having oral sex in the movie theatre, someone drove them to the theatre and dropped them off.
I have no idea how things got to this point, but somehow things have gotten way off track. We can discuss and debate why and how, and I would love to hear your thoughts on it. But this is where we are, so what can we do to make it better?
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Aug
21
I’m feeling a little fragile right now. My kids are back in school, and I’m officially the mom of middle schoolers. I am so out of my element.
I thought, or hoped, that the chaos we’ve been living with for a couple of weeks would instantly disappear once school started. I was wrong. Getting back into a routine and schedule is hard. Are my kids the only ones that fight bedtime even as they can barely stand on their feet? Why don’t they believe me when I tell them that sleep is a gift?
I was excited this year because both boys have changed schools and we now live much closer to both schools. Closer as in less than a mile. According to mapquest, this is a travel time of three minutes. Unless you are traveling during the thirty minutes before or after school starts. Then your travel time will be twenty minutes. Twenty Minutes! And that’s on a really good day.
I know what you’re thinking. Yes, they can walk to school. But I wanted to take them and pick them up on the first day, which is why I got to experience the traffic madness. My oldest has been walking since the first day. I’m still taking and picking up Nolan, for a couple of reasons. His school is a little further than his brothers, but he could still easily walk it. But he would have to walk past the 8th Grade Center and the High School, then cross a busy intersection. My problem is not with crossing the intersection. It’s the fact that the intersection will be filled with teenage drivers, all in a rush to get out of school. We’ve been in school for two days and I’ve seen two accidents at that intersection after school. So I’m not letting him walk, even if it means more traffic jams for me.
They are slowly adjusting to getting up earlier, now if they would just adjust to going to bed earlier. We’ll get back in the routine soon. And maybe I’ll get used to having kids in middle school. Probably not though.
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Aug
18
Ok, deep breath. It’s almost time. School starts tomorrow! I always like that our schools start on a Wednesday or Thursday, to give the kids a chance to ease into the schedule. But these two last days are going to be the death of me!! My kids are all “but it’s the last day of summer, we must be allowed to stay up and lay around and do whatever we want” and I’m all “no the last day of summer was last week, the fun is over”!
I don’t want the fun to be over, but there is a lot of work that has to be done before walking into school tomorrow at 8am. Laundry, supplies sorted and labeled, more laundry, last minute paperwork to fill out and locker combinations to learn. It’s a little hectic.
Since my kids are both out of elementary school now (sniff) they don’t get their supply lists in advance, because each teacher has a different list. So we wait until tomorrow after school to get most of their stuff. I do get the basics, but we actually have a lot of it already, so I haven’t been worried about it. Who would have known that no store in a 20 mile radius would have a three inch zipper binder that I could buy the day before school starts today? None to be found, at least none in “manly” colors. And I don’t care how desperate we are, we’re not getting a pink one.
So I’ll be doing more school supply shopping this week, and hopefully the stores will restock their shelves. Those darn elementary school kids took all the good stuff.
Even with school supply shopping on my agenda, I’ll be in much better shape tomorrow. I’m sure I’ll take five minutes to relax , then I’ll get teary eyed thinking how it’s impossible that I have kids in middle school. Then I’ll look around at the shape my house is in after this long crazy summer. That’s when the real crying will start.
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Aug
13
What is THAT?? Who are those scantily dressed women and why are they bothering my baby? Clearly he is struggling to escape from them. Poor kid.
And this is the last time I let my husband take him to a local baseball game. When the paper said Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader Night at the stadium, I did not know it meant that cheerleaders would be harassing my precious boy like that.
He does look upset, right? Let’s pretend that he does.
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Aug
12
I meant to post an update sooner but it’s been absolutely crazy here we’ve been slightly busy with the getting ready to go back to school. Enrollment, parent meetings, supply shopping. Welcome to August.
Anyway. Since I saw my doctor last week and got some much needed medication, I’m happy to report that things are much better. I noticed an improvement in my frenetic-ness (is that a word? I don’t know, but it fits) the first day. I was actually able to sit at my computer and get some work done without it taking an abnormal amount of time, and with zero hair pulling. Which for me, is quite an accomplishment. So you can’t imagine my relief.
More than that, my family noticed the change too, and sometimes they’re a better barometer than I am when it comes to how I’m doing. I was talking to my son the first day and he had a funny look on his face. I asked why he was smiling like that, and he asked if I realized I had been standing still. That may sound odd, but normally no matter what I’m doing or who I’m talking to, I’m moving. Pacing, fidgeting, bouncing. And I don’t even realize it, but they do because it’s distracting and annoying. So he immediately noticed that I wasn’t doing that annoying stuff I usually do.
I know it’s still the first step in a process. It’s only been a week but my initial feeling is that my doctor will need to do some tweaking, either with dosage or the kind of medication I take. I am learning the best time to take it so I can be the most productive and still go to sleep at night. But it’s already so much better.
And I’m still asking myself, why did I wait to see the doctor. If my kids complain about a physical ache or problem, I immediately ask them all kinds of questions, how bad is it, do you feel like you need to go to the doctor, and if I feel it warrants it, I take them to the doctor. Simple.
I’m not being sexist at all, and I don’t want to stereotype, but since I am a woman, I can only speak from that perspective. I think many women, and probably many moms, do the same thing that I do. We take extraordinarily good care of our families, but not so much ourselves. We analyze every complaint from our kids to gauge the seriousness of it, and act accordingly. But if it’s our complaint, our problem, our pain, we brush it off.
I hope most people are better about taking care of themselves than I am. But for those that aren’t, consider this. No matter what health concern or issue you may have, or even if you just need some down time, if you take care of yourself and give yourself what you need, your entire family will be better off for it. (I know this is not a new concept, but for some reason I keep forgetting it).
That old saying that if mama’s not happy, no one’s happy? It goes further than that. If mom is sick, or if mom is constantly whirling about in a frenzy of manic activity (that would be me), it’s hard on the family. I believe more and more that in many cases, mom sets the tone for the household. When I am calm – which has been rare up until the past week – then my kids are calm. If I am anxious, they are anxious.
So this whole concept of “no time for me to take care of me” has got to stop. Whatever you need, whether it’s a trip to the doctor or a trip to the spa, do it. Take time for it. It’s not a luxury to take care of ourselves, it’s a necessity.
Now I just need to remember to do that more often, instead of every few years.
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Aug
10
I have several things that I wanted to write today, but it’s looking like a crazy Monday here. You know the days where you have a to do list and you’re determined to get it all done, then the phone starts ringing off the hook and before you know it, it’s noon and nothing is done? That’s my day so far.
I may be able to sit down and write a little later, but I wanted to make sure and remind you that today is the last day to enter my end of summer giveaway. You can until until midnight CST today, so go for it.
And please make my phone stop ringing!
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Aug
7
I saw my doctor yesterday about my adhd and the problems I’ve been having. The doctor visit itself is a saga, which I feel compelled to share because it took up so much of my day, there was no time for anything else to happen. I need to first admit that I haven’t seen a doctor in almost two years, because I rarely do anyway and when my beloved primary care doctor moved away, I just haven’t really needed to go – ok, didn’t think I needed to go, which was clearly wrong.
Anyway, I was seeing a new doctor. I arrived five minutes before my appointment, which was at 2:45. I waited 30 minutes, entertained by a rather energetic child in the waiting room. It’s always fun to watch when it’s not your own. But after 30 minutes I stood up, because the sign says “if you’ve been waiting more than 20 minutes past your appointment time, see the receptionist”. And I had noticed that the people in the waiting room had not moved, so no one had been called back.
I started up to the front but then a nurse called my name. But the way she said my name was not a “time to go see the doctor” way. It was a bad news kind of way. She said they had a meeting that ran long and the doctor was running late. I said, well, it’s already been thirty minutes, how much longer? There were still three people in front of me! So we’re talking another hour, and then the wait in the actual exam room begins.
I hate to admit this, but because I’ve been such a wreck lately and because I really wanted to see the doctor but knew I couldn’t stay there another hour, I got pretty upset. As in, I felt the tears coming. I talked to the receptionist, explained that I had kids waiting that had to be picked up at a certain time and I could not wait for the doctor. Could anyone else please see me.
She found an opening with another doctor, but there were still two patients in front of me, which I didn’t think would be much better than the other doctor with three in front of me. The receptionist leaned in and quietly said, the doctor your original appointment is with is a little slow. This other doctor is not nearly that slow, and you’ll be in quickly.
Ok. If you say so. They changed my appointment to the new doctor, and I went back to wait. I was pretty agitated by that point, which only aggravates my ADHD issues. I was mainly worried that I would wait all that time for the doctor to say he couldn’t help me anyway and I’d have to wait for my psych appointment in a month.
But the receptionist was right, this doctor was quick. I was called back within five minutes! The funny thing is, I vaguely knew the nurse that took me back. A mom of a cub scout. Not close friends but we recognized each other right away. By then, I was a bit of a mess (UNDERSTATEMENT), but she started asking about my son so that helped. That’s the thing about private people, like me. I prefer NOT to know the people taking my medical history and weighing me. Oh well.
And then the doctor. I prefer women doctors. I know that’s archaic. But I do, older women doctors. By older, I mean at least as old as me. My new doctor is a young, attractive male. The opposite of what I would pick if I’m going through the list and choosing. It’s not that I have anything against young, attractive people. It’s just that I’m not one of them, and I am normally more comfortable with someone more like me. It’s purely an eccentricity of mine. Anyway.
So I’m finally in the office. The nurse, who I know, tells me my blood pressure is a little high. I explain that I’m a little agitated, because by then I’ve been waiting an hour. She understood completely, and told me I’d really like this doctor. Lord, I hope so. By that point, I was at my wits end.
Finally, here comes my new (cute) doctor. You have to just picture this in your mind though. When he walks in, he sees me sitting on the exam table. My legs are swinging at a pretty fast pace, back and forth. My hands are tightly linked together, thumbs twiddling at a furious speed, and kind of bouncing up and down. He calmly introduces himself, looks at my chart and asks what seems to be the problem. I blurt out everything that’s been going on, including my childhood history and current events. I know that I’m talking at breakneck speed but I can’t help it. I know that as I talk that fast, my legs are swinging even faster and my thumbs are fidgeting even faster. I can’t help it.
I told him everything, then said I didn’t think he could help me but thought I’d ask. I finally paused to take a breath and my new doctor, aka best friend said, Of Course I Can Help You. Magical words. But if you had seen me, I think it would’ve been clear that I needed help.
He said since I had been previously diagnosed and it clearly was a problem, he didn’t think I’d need to see anyone else. I could’ve hugged the man. We talked for awhile about kinds of medication and figuring out what works best. He did prescribe something but said it could take awhile to find the best thing for me. I’m ok with that. I just really need to know that better days are coming.
That was my afternoon. It was a success, and after I got past my unfounded preference for women doctors, I realized I really like my new (young and cute) doctor. Not just because he helped me. But I heard it straight from the receptionist that he is quick, and he proved that he is. That’s very important, I don’t want to spend hours in the waiting room. He was very nice and not at all intimidating. So I got a new doctor out of the day. And some medication.
I have a (very) preliminary report on the meds, but I’ll save it for another post. Reliving the doctors visit has worn.me.out.
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Aug
6
I’m a pretty private person. None of my in-real-life friends know about this blog, for instance. Not that I’m ashamed of it, but I am hyper critical of myself and am afraid people would be like, who does she think she is, writing on the internet! There are a lot of things I just keep to myself. Well, that ends right now!
I’ve been having some issues lately. I’ve always had issues but lately it’s gotten out of control, and I finally decided it was time to do something about it. Here’s my story.
My mom likes to tell me (and anyone who will listen) about what a difficult child I was, hard to manage and HYPER. She has told me that the pediatrician gave me the official HYPER diagnosis and prescribed coffee. Until I had friends with kids, I didn’t believe her about the doctor or the coffee. It didn’t make sense to me that they would give coffee to a hyperactive child. But if it made her feel better, keep telling it like that.
Now I know better, because I have friends with kids, so I’ve learned a lot about ADD/ADHD and medication for it. I still never once thought it was relevant for ME. I thought my problem was more anxiety, or as my parents also described me, just high-strung. I mean come on, I’m 40 years old, I can’t have ADHD. Right?
Fast forward to the past few months. Life has been getting a little difficult for me. My latest job requires me to sit at the computer and complete tasks. Not hard, right? For me, next to impossible. A couple weeks ago, I had to take a test for work. It was not hard and they gave me a week to complete it. For most people, two days of working on it a few hours a day would be plenty. It took me the entire week. I was down to the wire, and terrified I wouldn’t finish. Finishing and passing were a requirement for the job. I wasn’t worried about passing, but I nearly had a breakdown over getting it done. I was in tears several times, I was up almost all night for several nights, and the most frustrating part was I didn’t know why I was having such a hard time.
I did finish and pass. Then I get my new job assignment, which is more of the same type of repetitive tasks. Not hard, but sitting still and focusing is a necessary part of this job. My brain has been hurting ever since.
I finally got a clue and talked to my mom and husband, and did some online research. It turns out (this is mind blowing so wait for it) that the problems I was having along with the fact that I cannot sit still, my husband has to hold my hands still to keep me from fidgeting, I have huge problems with organization and focusing, are all symptoms of ADHD! I’m being sarcastic here, because why, as a somewhat intelligent adult, why didn’t I talk to someone about this sooner, or research it sooner? My husband and kids all said they knew it was a problem, but they’re used to me and tolerate it.
I’m perfectly content to go through life fidgeting and jumpy, but now that it’s affecting my job, I realize it has been a problem for a long time, not just recently. I just really thought it was part of my personality and all the issues that go along with being me, and there was no help for it. This explains why my four weeks of grad school earlier this summer were so hard for me. Not hard work, but hard for me to finish. It also explains why I had to ignore my blog and pretty much everything else during that time, just to get it done.
You can’t imagine the relief I’ve felt since I realized that it doesn’t have to be this way. I have been so worried about my job and about going back to school in two weeks. I knew that if I was having this much trouble with the job, adding school in the mix would not help. I’ve been pulling my hair out trying to figure out what’s wrong with me, why can’t I just do this. Finally I know.
I have done a lot of online research about this, and I’ve actually gotten very helpful information from my mom about my history with this. This has always been a problem for me, but when I was growing up, it wasn’t common to be treated for it. It was common, or at least for the people in my parents generation, to chalk it up to a bratty kid. Thankfully, my mom stuck with the high strung label.
I wasn’t sure where to start, but from my reading I figured I would need to see a psychologist or psychiatrist to get an official diagnosis before anything else could be done. I called every doctor on my insurance list and for every single one of them, the first appointment is in September. I made an appointment, but since by September I may just really pull all my hair out, I made an appointment with my primary care doctor. I see him today, and we’ll see where I go from here.
It has to be better than where I’ve been.
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Aug
4
I have a confession to make. I like to go to church (no pun intended!). I like going to church for lots of reasons, but one of the main reasons is my never ending quest for quiet. I don’t get a lot of quiet at home, or peace for that matter. With two boys, a rambunctious husband and a slightly large dog, we do not have a quiet home. But by nature, I’m quiet. I like quiet. I miss it. A lot. So I look forward to my time in church, because it has to be quiet there.
Doesn’t it?
Let me just give you an example of what I had to listen to during maybe the last five minutes of church, during the announcements. My sons are old enough that they can be quiet in church, and they are. But once they get to the announcements and the final song, it’s like they HAVE to let themselves speak, they can’t control it any longer. So here is what I get to enjoy while the nice lady from the womens club is talking:
Son: Mom, you’re a woman, you should be in that club.
Other son: Yeah, and she’s talking about giving to the needy, you like to give. And you’re needy.
Son: Did she just say Christmas Bazaar? You ARE a little bizarre, mom, so you really should join!
Other son: Yeah, bizarre. (muffled yet uncontrollable giggling)
Son: She’s going to be in the lobby after church, you better sign up. Oh now it’s time to sing. Sing loud mom!
Other son: Don’t sing loud, we don’t want to offend anyone. (more uncontrollable giggling, verging on being unmuffled)
Son: Yeah, who forgot their breath mint?? (more giggling, not quite muffled)
Throughout all of this absolute nonsense, my face is getting redder and redder, but I can’t do anything, because if I so much as look in their direction, all that muffled giggling will turn into a laughing fit like you’ve never seen. Because they’ve held it in for an ENTIRE HOUR, they are on the verge of collapsing with laughter.
I just want to know one thing. WHY don’t they do this to their father?
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My boys
Where did those little guys go?Cuteness overload
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