Because it's 2:30 AM and my youngest child, who is afraid of thunder and has never been away from me for a night except at my mom's house, is currently sleeping in a cabin in the woods with her fifth grade classmates. I know she's fine; she was fine at 10:00 when Ron was shooed out of the girls' cabin so that they could get ready for bed. But it's 55 degrees and it's been raining for 12 hours and I hope I sent enough dry clothes. And why did I talk her out of taking her stuffed horse, Stacey?
Ironically, on Saturday morning I will take my other child to school and leave him there forever. Well, maybe not forever, but until he remembers that he loves us and we're not so awful and he's ready to come home for a weekend. Thomas attends a boarding school where he has been a day student up until now, and he has been begging to board because it is SO NOT FAIR that he has to miss all the fun his friends have and do you know they get to stay up until 9:15?? On school nights?!?
We said no last year but there are so many reasons why this is the right thing for our family at this time, and we pray that it is going to relieve a lot of stress all around. The school worked with us financially after we told them we just didn't have any more money to give them, which was a real blessing. We are going to sell my van, which makes both me and Ron sad because we love the van, which is very luxurious compared to our other vehicles. But it is just one year old and we hope to be able to get a good price for it. So goodbye, leather interior and heated seats and surround sound and magic dimming mirror and automatic liftgate and sonar that keeps me from hitting the sides of the garage. And hello, morning/homework/bedtime battles being someone else's problem five days a week. Thomas is sure that it's going to be a constant slumber party, and he keeps brushing off the strict schedule and chores and evening study hall. I hope he loves it as much as he believes he will, and I hope it will be a real growth experience for him.
Tomorrow...my Thursday night TV observations. I know you have been holding your breath for that.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Friday, September 26, 2008
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Where does the time go?
Ack! It can't have been a week since I posted. Internet, I have no excuse for my neglect. I also have nothing particularly interesting to post about so I will just list a few of the random thoughts that are floating around in my feeble perimenopausal brain.
1) Thomas went back to school on Monday and things are going great there. We had a couple of very rocky evenings but things seem to be back on track for now. I am enjoying my alone time immensely. I seem to be headed for life as a hermit...I swear the older I get the more I need my solitary time.
1a.)The beginning of school at Oakland also means the beginning of soccer season, which stirs up very mixed feelings in me. I do not mind at all when they play at home, but because they play other small private schools, we occasionally find ourselves driving all over the hinterlands for an away game.
2) I've been better about making Annamarie do her daily reading after school and today Ron and I were both beaming as she read two chapters out loud. She is about 2 years behind grade level, but we were told that she might never read so can I get an amen for our awesome girl who never stops surprising us.
3) The first week of school, Annamarie's class made posters about themselves and they had to list their favorite activities. Every couple of days now when we are in the car, she will list her favorites for me and there are about 100 items on her list, including taking a warm bath, talking to Grammy and Sandy on the phone, praying to God, eating dessert, going to the dog park, hanging out with her family, listening to her iPod, petting Ruby, and on and on. How can you not love a child who is that good at counting her blessings?
4) Another thing I love is music. Have I ever said that before? I flip flop between genres and when I find a new (to me) artist I wonder how I ever lived without this amazing music and I want to share the wonder with everyone I know but I usually end up inflicting it only on my children because they are a captive audience in my car. They have exquisite taste though, disregarding Annamarie's great love for Shania Twain, and Thomas has become a big John Mayer fan. Lately I have been rediscovering how much truly awesome contemporary Christian music is out there. Right now I can't get enough of MercyMe, Third Day, HillSong, and Steven Curtis Chapman. Third Day's Revelation is the song I am currently playing over and over and I can't imagine anything better than a power ballad for Jesus. I am also anxiously awaiting the release of David Cook's album on November 18.
5) Coming home from taking Thomas to school yesterday, I was behind a truck that had this phone number printed on it: 1-800-666-FIRE. I sincerely hope that I won't require this company's services in the future, because I don't know about you, but I am a little bit afraid to dial that number. "Thank you for calling The Fiery Pit of Hell, where your eternal damnation is our number one priority. Please press 1 to arrange for the sale of your soul. Please press 2 to challenge the devil to a fiddle competition..."
6) Oh, and a layout I did yesterday:
1) Thomas went back to school on Monday and things are going great there. We had a couple of very rocky evenings but things seem to be back on track for now. I am enjoying my alone time immensely. I seem to be headed for life as a hermit...I swear the older I get the more I need my solitary time.
1a.)The beginning of school at Oakland also means the beginning of soccer season, which stirs up very mixed feelings in me. I do not mind at all when they play at home, but because they play other small private schools, we occasionally find ourselves driving all over the hinterlands for an away game.
2) I've been better about making Annamarie do her daily reading after school and today Ron and I were both beaming as she read two chapters out loud. She is about 2 years behind grade level, but we were told that she might never read so can I get an amen for our awesome girl who never stops surprising us.
3) The first week of school, Annamarie's class made posters about themselves and they had to list their favorite activities. Every couple of days now when we are in the car, she will list her favorites for me and there are about 100 items on her list, including taking a warm bath, talking to Grammy and Sandy on the phone, praying to God, eating dessert, going to the dog park, hanging out with her family, listening to her iPod, petting Ruby, and on and on. How can you not love a child who is that good at counting her blessings?
4) Another thing I love is music. Have I ever said that before? I flip flop between genres and when I find a new (to me) artist I wonder how I ever lived without this amazing music and I want to share the wonder with everyone I know but I usually end up inflicting it only on my children because they are a captive audience in my car. They have exquisite taste though, disregarding Annamarie's great love for Shania Twain, and Thomas has become a big John Mayer fan. Lately I have been rediscovering how much truly awesome contemporary Christian music is out there. Right now I can't get enough of MercyMe, Third Day, HillSong, and Steven Curtis Chapman. Third Day's Revelation is the song I am currently playing over and over and I can't imagine anything better than a power ballad for Jesus. I am also anxiously awaiting the release of David Cook's album on November 18.
5) Coming home from taking Thomas to school yesterday, I was behind a truck that had this phone number printed on it: 1-800-666-FIRE. I sincerely hope that I won't require this company's services in the future, because I don't know about you, but I am a little bit afraid to dial that number. "Thank you for calling The Fiery Pit of Hell, where your eternal damnation is our number one priority. Please press 1 to arrange for the sale of your soul. Please press 2 to challenge the devil to a fiddle competition..."
6) Oh, and a layout I did yesterday:
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Cool cat
With his mom's sunglasses on.
The kids and I spent Labor Day at Busch Gardens Williamsburg. It was a gorgeous sunny day and the park was surprisingly uncrowded. Thomas and Annamarie would get off a ride and holler, "Can we ride again?" as they ran by me to get in the short line again. I would look up briefly from the book I was reading in the shade, nod and turn up my iPod.
It's not hard to be an Awesome Mom on days when you can provide amusement park rides and overpriced sodas and bags of $2.99 a quarter-pound candy. Yesterday we were back to the real world where the PlayStation 2 is grounded in the garage and rooms had to be cleaned, and I needed a Word. (Beth Moore often says that when she's concerned about something, she prays, "God, I need a Word." I wish I could say that the Words that sustain and comfort me unfailingly come from the bible like Beth's do, but truthfully they often come from the pages of bloggers far more eloquent than I. I don't think that necessarily means that God isn't giving them to me, though.)
The words that I needed to read today were written by the amazing Jennifer Mattern at Breed 'Em and Weep. An excerpt that made me weep because I could have written it myself assuming I had Jenn's talent:
I yell. You yell. We all yell. We are absurdly loud, at times. Even the dogs flinch and stare.
I hope you will be all right, now and forever. Your hearing, and your hearts.
I love your hearts very much. I yell because I love you. I really do. That can be true, it turns out.
I yell because I know you can do better.
I yell because I know I should do better, be better to you, but I don’t always know how. And I hate that. More than I can say.
It's not just that it's nice to be reminded that I'm not the only imperfect mom in the world. It's more that even in Jenn's posts about what she sees as failing her children, her overwhelming love for them is what shines through the most. I hope that's just a little bit true of me sometimes.
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Too weary for a title
My children are back in Thomas' room "playing together." There is a lot of suspicious banging, some screaming, and the sound of a football hitting the mini-blinds. But I am sitting here calmly (lie) not getting involved, because I am not a helicopter mom.
Well, I don't want to be one, anyway. There's something about the nature of my relationship with Thomas that has turned me into a control freak, and it's not something I'm proud of. His ADHD combines with his attachment issues to make our relationship very contentious most of the time. I love the boy and have always felt like God picked him out specially for us, but he has the power to make me madder than any human being on earth. That seems to create a vicious cycle: I tell him to do (or stop doing) something, he refuses, and I decide that I. must. win. this. battle. I threaten him with consequences (usually loss of video game time), and he acts out more. I take away the video games, he yells, "Who cares?" (he does), and the original behavior never changes a bit. We may not be related by blood, but our stubborn streaks look a lot alike.
We have given Thomas relatively little independence for his age, but he will be 13 before long and I want to give him the chance to make more choices for himself. I've got to stop worrying and micromanaging--so what if he screws up and it goes on his Permanent Record? (Has anyone ever gained access to their Permanent Record?)I certainly screwed up plenty myself.
The backlash of the videogame-taking-away system is that without his prized electronics, Thomas is glued to my side. "Mom, watch this. Mom, listen to this." And of course, "I don't have anything to do." I suggest that he read the library books he begged me to take him for...no, he doesn't feel like reading. He has long wanted to be able to ride his bike around the neighborhood alone, so I say, "It's a nice day. Why don't you go ride your bike?" No, that's a terrible idea...he doesn't feel like it...blah blah blah blah.
Naturally, today when it is 65 degrees and pouring rain, he wants to ride his bike. And look! Look at me letting him make his own choices! Not hovering. But I start to worry when he's been gone an hour and a half. All the other kids in the neighborhood are back in school. Where could he be? I imagine his skinny little wet body lying in a ditch after he skidded off the wet road. Then I wonder if he has ridden, against our orders, up to the big road and over to the shopping center.
Just as I am pulling out of the driveway to look for him, he rides up. I manage to keep my mouth shut and get him dried off and warmed up. I make him a grilled cheese sandwich (he swears mine are the best ever), I listen to him play a hundred or so songs on the electronic keyboard, we play some cards, and wait for Annamarie to come home.
By bedtime we will be adversaries again, me directing and him balking, both of us yelling. And I will go to bed as I have every night for the past 10 years, praying for forgiveness and vowing to try harder tomorrow.
Well, I don't want to be one, anyway. There's something about the nature of my relationship with Thomas that has turned me into a control freak, and it's not something I'm proud of. His ADHD combines with his attachment issues to make our relationship very contentious most of the time. I love the boy and have always felt like God picked him out specially for us, but he has the power to make me madder than any human being on earth. That seems to create a vicious cycle: I tell him to do (or stop doing) something, he refuses, and I decide that I. must. win. this. battle. I threaten him with consequences (usually loss of video game time), and he acts out more. I take away the video games, he yells, "Who cares?" (he does), and the original behavior never changes a bit. We may not be related by blood, but our stubborn streaks look a lot alike.
We have given Thomas relatively little independence for his age, but he will be 13 before long and I want to give him the chance to make more choices for himself. I've got to stop worrying and micromanaging--so what if he screws up and it goes on his Permanent Record? (Has anyone ever gained access to their Permanent Record?)I certainly screwed up plenty myself.
The backlash of the videogame-taking-away system is that without his prized electronics, Thomas is glued to my side. "Mom, watch this. Mom, listen to this." And of course, "I don't have anything to do." I suggest that he read the library books he begged me to take him for...no, he doesn't feel like reading. He has long wanted to be able to ride his bike around the neighborhood alone, so I say, "It's a nice day. Why don't you go ride your bike?" No, that's a terrible idea...he doesn't feel like it...blah blah blah blah.
Naturally, today when it is 65 degrees and pouring rain, he wants to ride his bike. And look! Look at me letting him make his own choices! Not hovering. But I start to worry when he's been gone an hour and a half. All the other kids in the neighborhood are back in school. Where could he be? I imagine his skinny little wet body lying in a ditch after he skidded off the wet road. Then I wonder if he has ridden, against our orders, up to the big road and over to the shopping center.
Just as I am pulling out of the driveway to look for him, he rides up. I manage to keep my mouth shut and get him dried off and warmed up. I make him a grilled cheese sandwich (he swears mine are the best ever), I listen to him play a hundred or so songs on the electronic keyboard, we play some cards, and wait for Annamarie to come home.
By bedtime we will be adversaries again, me directing and him balking, both of us yelling. And I will go to bed as I have every night for the past 10 years, praying for forgiveness and vowing to try harder tomorrow.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Back to School, with trepidation
Annamarie started fifth grade on Wednesday. Fifth grade. I keep being shocked by the thought that I am the mother of two middle schoolers. Surely such a mother must be older than I am. Middle aged, even. Let's just move on, shall we? Hey! Here are a couple of photos of Annamarie on the first day of school.
I am filled with mixed emotions as I look at those pictures and send her off to school. I am so proud of how hard she works and how far she has come, but she is still so far behind and likely always will be. I am painfully aware that next year she will enter middle school, a scary place to send even well-adjusted, typically developing children. Annamarie is just beginning to realize that she is different, and just gaining awareness of the fact that many of the kids aren't very nice to her. She is sweet and funny and so interested in other people, but she doesn't have a clue how to have a normal conversation. It just doesn't come naturally to her like it does to most people, and it's an incredibly difficult skill to teach someone. It's sad and often funny to have to make rules before any social event. "Do not ask for anyone's jewelry. Do not touch anyone's artificial limbs (this actually applies to two people at the dog park). Do not hug strangers. Do not ask people if they have been arrested, grounded, or had a c-section. If you have asked a question and gotten an answer, it is not necessary to ask that question again. The only exception is, 'How are you?' and only ask that once each time you see the person." Sounds silly, but this is my life.
We are blessed by a number of adults who are very patient with Annamarie's incessant questions and who accept and love her just as she is, but she has never had a friend her own age. At ten, my joyful, loving, sassy little girl has never once been invited to a birthday party or to play at another child's house. Her peculiar interests (law enforcement, childbirth, anything medical-related) don't lend themselves well to conversing with girls her age who are into Hannah Montana and Webkinz. Her behavior is often just weird, to be honest, and my heart breaks for her because she wants so much to be liked. I have a terrible time finding a balance between loving her as she is and trying to help her fit in without hurting her feelings or making her feel bad about herself.
So it's not hard to imagine how I am struggling with the thought of sending this precious child to middle school. She is naive and trusting, and I am not. I know very well that the developmentally disabled are among the most often abused. How, then, will I keep her safe? How will I equip her to keep herself safe? She loves Jesus and she has a strong sense of right and wrong. But soon she will be a teenager, and I suspect that her desire to be accepted will only get stronger.
I am a big believer in the notion that God puts people into our paths when we need them, and these days I feel like I'm stumbling over all the people He's putting in my path. (Hang on a minute...this does relate to the school thing eventually.) Several months ago we met an awesome family at the pool where A & I swim in the winter. The kids were really sweet to Annamarie, and we have become friends with them. They kept mentioning a wonderful home Bible study group they attend, and invited us back in July. You know me: "ACK! Strangers! Social situation! I can't. Very busy. Might be sick that day." But God wanted me there, and we went, and I and my family are still there nearly two months later. Being with this group of Christian families every week is an amazing breath of fresh air. We sing and pray and eat and study the Word and I feel vaguely like I am cheating on my home church but I don't think you can have too much worship in your week. Thomas (!!!) and Annamarie love going there and hanging out with a gaggle of really nice kids of all ages. It is just exactly what I have been needing; fellowship and support and Jesus, and I am just SO GRATEFUL.
Now for the part about how this relates to Annamarie and school. Most of the families in the home group also homeschool. They are part of a co-op that meets weekly and includes about 400 students. Homeschooling is not something I have ever wanted to do. It scares the heck out of me, I fear I am not organized and driven enough, and if I am going to be completely honest, I cherish my alone time when the kids are at school. We have considered private school for Annamarie, but there isn't one in our area that has special education resources appropriate for her. So the options are to throw her into public middle school and pray for the best, or to homeschool.
I have not made a decision yet. I'm going to spend the next few monthsbuying denim jumpers and flashcards researching and praying about it, and maybe you could pray too, if you are so inclined. Thomas is still on break until September 15, and will be at the same private school he attended last year. Seventh grade! Almost 13! How does this happen?
I am filled with mixed emotions as I look at those pictures and send her off to school. I am so proud of how hard she works and how far she has come, but she is still so far behind and likely always will be. I am painfully aware that next year she will enter middle school, a scary place to send even well-adjusted, typically developing children. Annamarie is just beginning to realize that she is different, and just gaining awareness of the fact that many of the kids aren't very nice to her. She is sweet and funny and so interested in other people, but she doesn't have a clue how to have a normal conversation. It just doesn't come naturally to her like it does to most people, and it's an incredibly difficult skill to teach someone. It's sad and often funny to have to make rules before any social event. "Do not ask for anyone's jewelry. Do not touch anyone's artificial limbs (this actually applies to two people at the dog park). Do not hug strangers. Do not ask people if they have been arrested, grounded, or had a c-section. If you have asked a question and gotten an answer, it is not necessary to ask that question again. The only exception is, 'How are you?' and only ask that once each time you see the person." Sounds silly, but this is my life.
We are blessed by a number of adults who are very patient with Annamarie's incessant questions and who accept and love her just as she is, but she has never had a friend her own age. At ten, my joyful, loving, sassy little girl has never once been invited to a birthday party or to play at another child's house. Her peculiar interests (law enforcement, childbirth, anything medical-related) don't lend themselves well to conversing with girls her age who are into Hannah Montana and Webkinz. Her behavior is often just weird, to be honest, and my heart breaks for her because she wants so much to be liked. I have a terrible time finding a balance between loving her as she is and trying to help her fit in without hurting her feelings or making her feel bad about herself.
So it's not hard to imagine how I am struggling with the thought of sending this precious child to middle school. She is naive and trusting, and I am not. I know very well that the developmentally disabled are among the most often abused. How, then, will I keep her safe? How will I equip her to keep herself safe? She loves Jesus and she has a strong sense of right and wrong. But soon she will be a teenager, and I suspect that her desire to be accepted will only get stronger.
I am a big believer in the notion that God puts people into our paths when we need them, and these days I feel like I'm stumbling over all the people He's putting in my path. (Hang on a minute...this does relate to the school thing eventually.) Several months ago we met an awesome family at the pool where A & I swim in the winter. The kids were really sweet to Annamarie, and we have become friends with them. They kept mentioning a wonderful home Bible study group they attend, and invited us back in July. You know me: "ACK! Strangers! Social situation! I can't. Very busy. Might be sick that day." But God wanted me there, and we went, and I and my family are still there nearly two months later. Being with this group of Christian families every week is an amazing breath of fresh air. We sing and pray and eat and study the Word and I feel vaguely like I am cheating on my home church but I don't think you can have too much worship in your week. Thomas (!!!) and Annamarie love going there and hanging out with a gaggle of really nice kids of all ages. It is just exactly what I have been needing; fellowship and support and Jesus, and I am just SO GRATEFUL.
Now for the part about how this relates to Annamarie and school. Most of the families in the home group also homeschool. They are part of a co-op that meets weekly and includes about 400 students. Homeschooling is not something I have ever wanted to do. It scares the heck out of me, I fear I am not organized and driven enough, and if I am going to be completely honest, I cherish my alone time when the kids are at school. We have considered private school for Annamarie, but there isn't one in our area that has special education resources appropriate for her. So the options are to throw her into public middle school and pray for the best, or to homeschool.
I have not made a decision yet. I'm going to spend the next few months
Friday, July 11, 2008
Come on down to Funky Town
Henceforth in the Michener household, Summer 2008 shall be referred to as The Summer of Puberty. Because one of my children is a bit of a late bloomer and the other is a bit of an early bloomer, they seem to be hitting this milestone at the same time. Add to that the fact that we live in a small house without much room for privacy, and you come up with the conclusion that everybody is all up in everybody else's bidness. This leads to lots of interesting questions and lots of interesting discussions, and lots of "Ewww" from the boy.
Given Annamarie's developmental delays, I was really hoping to have one more year before having the feminine hygiene talk with her. Mainly because she is prone to overshare with classmates, old ladies at church, and strangers on the street, but also she's only ten, for crying out loud. Unfortunately, circumstances forced a hurried delivery of that talk in a truck stop restroom in Arizona, and she handled the whole thing with the same cheerful attitude she has about everything. I love that girl. Even this morning when she stuck her armpit in my face and declared indignantly, "Mom, I smell like Dad." (Please don't picture Ron as a smelly guy. I would never marry a smelly guy.)
Coincidentally, just yesterday when I picked Thomas up at camp, he got in the car and I thought, "WHAT is that smell?" It was the delightful aroma of 12-year-old boy. They are now the proud owners of Axe deodorant (I can't decide whether it's an improvement or just a different kind of funk) and Secret Sparkle.
Even the dog has found something rotten to roll in at the far reaches of the back yard. I hope it's not something she killed herself. Every time she comes back in from her visits outdoors she has freshly applied Eau de Dead Things and we can't bathe her for two more days since we just applied her flea and tick goo. Now that I think of it, that stuff smells so awful that she's probably trying to cover it.
This all probably makes you want to come over to our house for a visit, doesn't it? I knew a day would come when I'd really need the dozens of yummy smelling candles I've been collecting.
Given Annamarie's developmental delays, I was really hoping to have one more year before having the feminine hygiene talk with her. Mainly because she is prone to overshare with classmates, old ladies at church, and strangers on the street, but also she's only ten, for crying out loud. Unfortunately, circumstances forced a hurried delivery of that talk in a truck stop restroom in Arizona, and she handled the whole thing with the same cheerful attitude she has about everything. I love that girl. Even this morning when she stuck her armpit in my face and declared indignantly, "Mom, I smell like Dad." (Please don't picture Ron as a smelly guy. I would never marry a smelly guy.)
Coincidentally, just yesterday when I picked Thomas up at camp, he got in the car and I thought, "WHAT is that smell?" It was the delightful aroma of 12-year-old boy. They are now the proud owners of Axe deodorant (I can't decide whether it's an improvement or just a different kind of funk) and Secret Sparkle.
Even the dog has found something rotten to roll in at the far reaches of the back yard. I hope it's not something she killed herself. Every time she comes back in from her visits outdoors she has freshly applied Eau de Dead Things and we can't bathe her for two more days since we just applied her flea and tick goo. Now that I think of it, that stuff smells so awful that she's probably trying to cover it.
This all probably makes you want to come over to our house for a visit, doesn't it? I knew a day would come when I'd really need the dozens of yummy smelling candles I've been collecting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
