Although I don't want to beat a dead horse, my life seems to be tied up in the well being of my teen son. I apologize if my blogs seem repetitive and just plain negative. The past few weeks have been up an down; the ups being that nothing bad happened that day, and the downs being a variety of issues. One of the prevalent issues has been dealing with the fact that Alec has been bullied at school. This is not really a new development. It has actually been going on in some form or another for years. It has only recently become an issue that we are dealing with rather than trying to have Alec to handle it on his own, because simply put-he wasn't. He would be called names and he would shrink. He would disappear. He has been doing this for a while and I believe it is a big reason of why he is in the low place he is now.
It is a law in Massachusetts now that the schools have to deal with bullying. It is a law that they provide students with a safe environment to learn. So, we have had meetings at the school to discuss how to stop the bullying. If you look at the situation, you realize that it is not a simple problem to resolve. There are kids that bully. They act this way for a number of reasons, maybe they are insecure and use posturing to gain a sense of power; maybe they want to look cool and think that by being mean they achieve this status. The list of reasons can go on and on. Just by telling them to stop doesn't mean they will. Then you have the victims. They may be kids who are shy and withdrawn and seem like an easy target, unlikely to take action; they may be different in appearance or behavior. Again, the list could go on.
We have tried for many years to get Alec to change his position in this equation. If he stood up to the bully he would not appear weak and an easy target. The other kids may look at him differently and the teasing would stop. He doesn't see this as an option, even at his almost 6 foot stature. No matter what we tell him, he continues to disappear. The school has spoken to the bullies and they now see Alec as a "snitch". So, what happens next? We need to rebuild the confidence and self esteem of a boy who has started to believe he is what they say. Our homework assignment -to make a list of the things we like about Alec and he to write a list for himself. It wasn't hard for me. Although he is a teen and going through a "phase" I am not particularly fond of, he still encompasses great human qualities, such as compassion and empathy. His list is blank. He cannot think of one thing he likes about himself. I suppose we are all a work in progress, some just have farther to go.
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
Hope in Progress
When you decide as a couple to have children, it is a decision based on love. You bring a baby home from the hospital with dreams of picnics on the beach, building sandcastles, teaching them to ride a bike and the happiness you will experience as a family. You want them to grow knowing love, security and a sense of well being. Kids do not come with a manual. Each and every child is different and there is no one direct path to creating happiness for them. We, as parents, do the best we can. What happens when the plans stray from the path we envisioned? What do we do when the child we love does not sail with ease through life's transitions?
When Alec was born 15 years ago, I thought my life could not have been more perfect. We had experienced a scare when Joe was almost killed in a car accident during my 5th month of pregnancy. By the time Alec was born, Joe was pretty much fully recovered. Life was back on track and things were looking good. We enjoyed our family life- taking bike rides, hikes, and playing peek a boo with our beautiful, happy baby boy. We knew Alec was bright from a very early age. I remember when he was eight months old and said "monkey" and then made a monkey sound. When he was four years old and the pediatrician asked him a series of questions, such as the names of shapes, she was amazed that he could name a hexagon and that a child this age knew the difference between male and female. We were happy that he was smart. That should mean school was breeze and his future should unfold easily before him. Unfortunately, being smart sometimes has other effects. During our first ever school conference with his kindergarten teacher she told us we needed to hug and tickle Alec more. We had no idea what she meant. I am pretty sure if we tickled him more, it might constitute abuse. We were very silly and happy parents. It didn't make sense. Alec was a serious fve year old, but what is wrong with that?
Imagine being a child, but seeing the world through the eyes of an adult. I think that is what Alec sees. He always seemed to worry about things a child should never even think about. His unusual perspective and sensitivity have made him different. He has never felt like he fit in with his peers. His self confidence and self esteem suffered. Alec is now 15 years old- an age that can be difficult under the best of circumstances. Teenagers want desperately to belong, to fit in and be accepted. This year Alec decided to join football. Joe and I were perplexed but also somewhat relieved. This could be a great way for him to make friends and be physically active. When he came home from the first couple of practices smiling, I was overjoyed. It didn't last long though. After a couple more practices in the overbearing heat of August, he was done. He wanted to quit. Joe and I disagreed. The heat would be over soon, the fun part would begin-it would get better. We told him to suck it up.
The saying hindsight is 20/20 could not be truer in this case. What followed our decision to make him stick it out was like spiraling into a black hole. His already low self confidence and self esteem basically disappeared when he felt like he was terrible at the sport and that his teammates recognised this. As I was writing this last week, I got a call from the school adjustment counselor. Alec had been talking to her and we needed to go down to the school right away. After a very painful discussion about how Alec was feeling, the decision was made to allow Alec to quit football.
Joe and I have been feeling tremendous guilt that what we viewed as an important life lesson caused Alec to feel so bad. We do still believe there are values gained in sticking it through something that is difficult. We have also learned that some lessons are not so important if the cost is too great.
We are working on healing now. A teenager's self confidence needs repairing. As parents, our self confidence has also been damaged. We are moving forward cautiously and hope soon we will look back on this period as a time of necessary growth.
When Alec was born 15 years ago, I thought my life could not have been more perfect. We had experienced a scare when Joe was almost killed in a car accident during my 5th month of pregnancy. By the time Alec was born, Joe was pretty much fully recovered. Life was back on track and things were looking good. We enjoyed our family life- taking bike rides, hikes, and playing peek a boo with our beautiful, happy baby boy. We knew Alec was bright from a very early age. I remember when he was eight months old and said "monkey" and then made a monkey sound. When he was four years old and the pediatrician asked him a series of questions, such as the names of shapes, she was amazed that he could name a hexagon and that a child this age knew the difference between male and female. We were happy that he was smart. That should mean school was breeze and his future should unfold easily before him. Unfortunately, being smart sometimes has other effects. During our first ever school conference with his kindergarten teacher she told us we needed to hug and tickle Alec more. We had no idea what she meant. I am pretty sure if we tickled him more, it might constitute abuse. We were very silly and happy parents. It didn't make sense. Alec was a serious fve year old, but what is wrong with that?
Imagine being a child, but seeing the world through the eyes of an adult. I think that is what Alec sees. He always seemed to worry about things a child should never even think about. His unusual perspective and sensitivity have made him different. He has never felt like he fit in with his peers. His self confidence and self esteem suffered. Alec is now 15 years old- an age that can be difficult under the best of circumstances. Teenagers want desperately to belong, to fit in and be accepted. This year Alec decided to join football. Joe and I were perplexed but also somewhat relieved. This could be a great way for him to make friends and be physically active. When he came home from the first couple of practices smiling, I was overjoyed. It didn't last long though. After a couple more practices in the overbearing heat of August, he was done. He wanted to quit. Joe and I disagreed. The heat would be over soon, the fun part would begin-it would get better. We told him to suck it up.
The saying hindsight is 20/20 could not be truer in this case. What followed our decision to make him stick it out was like spiraling into a black hole. His already low self confidence and self esteem basically disappeared when he felt like he was terrible at the sport and that his teammates recognised this. As I was writing this last week, I got a call from the school adjustment counselor. Alec had been talking to her and we needed to go down to the school right away. After a very painful discussion about how Alec was feeling, the decision was made to allow Alec to quit football.
Joe and I have been feeling tremendous guilt that what we viewed as an important life lesson caused Alec to feel so bad. We do still believe there are values gained in sticking it through something that is difficult. We have also learned that some lessons are not so important if the cost is too great.
We are working on healing now. A teenager's self confidence needs repairing. As parents, our self confidence has also been damaged. We are moving forward cautiously and hope soon we will look back on this period as a time of necessary growth.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
In pursuit of skinny legs
Spring brings with it hope, freshness, sun, flowers, and shorts. Shorts that were put away with sadness last fall and emerged this spring with the usual anxiety. No one likes putting shorts on for the first time each spring. The pale legs are unforgiving and show the neglect I am guilty of. I knew those days of skipping the gym would come back to haunt me, and they have in the form of inches on my thighs and a spare tire around my waist. I probably should be a little more worried than I am, but I know that with the shorts also comes the walks and bike rides that will (hopefully) bring my legs back to where I can look in the mirror without horror and shock.
Of course, a change in eating habits is also in order, and I know that I am not alone here, so I am going to share my once declared "orgasmic" granola recipe with you. I like to use it in a yogurt parfait, layered with vanilla yogurt, berries and bananas. It is also good just as a cereal. Yes, I know some of my friends will say "why would you make granola when you can buy it in a store?" My reply would be that the good granola is expensive and while you may use my recipe exactly, you can also change the flavors to suit your taste.
So wish me luck in my pursuit of skinny legs (or at least to fit in last years shorts) and I wish you well with yours.
Kristen's Orgasmic Granola
2 cups oatmeal
1 cup wheat germ
1/3 cup powdered milk
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 nuts (I like pecans the best)
1/4 cup raisins
1/4 cup chopped dates
1/4 cup craisins (optional)
Mix all ingredients except fruit and spread on a baking sheet with sides. In a 250 degree preheated oven bake for about an hour(until slightly golden brown), stirring every 10 minutes. Granola will still seem slightly moist when taken from the oven, but crisps up after cooling. When cool add the fruit and store in an air tight container.
Of course, a change in eating habits is also in order, and I know that I am not alone here, so I am going to share my once declared "orgasmic" granola recipe with you. I like to use it in a yogurt parfait, layered with vanilla yogurt, berries and bananas. It is also good just as a cereal. Yes, I know some of my friends will say "why would you make granola when you can buy it in a store?" My reply would be that the good granola is expensive and while you may use my recipe exactly, you can also change the flavors to suit your taste.
So wish me luck in my pursuit of skinny legs (or at least to fit in last years shorts) and I wish you well with yours.
Kristen's Orgasmic Granola
2 cups oatmeal
1 cup wheat germ
1/3 cup powdered milk
1 1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 cup honey
1/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup orange juice
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1/2 nuts (I like pecans the best)
1/4 cup raisins
1/4 cup chopped dates
1/4 cup craisins (optional)
Mix all ingredients except fruit and spread on a baking sheet with sides. In a 250 degree preheated oven bake for about an hour(until slightly golden brown), stirring every 10 minutes. Granola will still seem slightly moist when taken from the oven, but crisps up after cooling. When cool add the fruit and store in an air tight container.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Time flies even when you aren't having fun
An observation I am surely not the first to make is how incredibly fast the time is flying past. I was just getting ready for bed, putting face cream on and I thought "wasn't I just doing this?" Where did the day go? Just moments ago I was packing Kyle's lunch and putting around the house. What did I do all day? The days blend into weeks and weeks into months. It is kind of scary.
I remember being a kid and the days were endless. You would get up in the morning all bright eyed and the day would seem like anything was possible. Maybe you would ride your bike to the duck pond and pick blueberries and then go home and play kickball and blow bubbles and hit the tennis ball against the house. Then you could catch frogs and climb trees and chase the dog that escaped from the neighbors yard. After lunch you would complain that there is nothing to do. You would go around the neighborhood and gather your friends and play Charlie's Angels and Wizard of Oz. Then lay on the lawn and watch clouds and say what they looked like and watch the planes leave thin white trails in their wake. When your friends went home you might twirl the baton in the backyard and pretend you were in a parade and practice cartwheels which you never were very good at. After dinner you would need a bath because catching frogs can be pretty dirty business. Pajamas, maybe a board game with daddy, story and then bed.
As you get older, the days go by a little more quickly. As a teenager, time starts to be a little more elusive. You watch the clock in math class waiting for the bell to ring so you can see if he notices you in the hall. You can't wait for the weekends to sleep at your girlfriends and borrow her clothes for the party that night. You wish for the week to be over so you can sleep in and watch t.v. You look forward to summer vacation. You start the wishing away of time. Rushing through days to get to what you think matters.
I don't really know where the college years went. I fell in love and looked to the future of being out of school and getting married. I got married and couldn't wait to have babies. Alec was born and I savored the time a little bit more. He grew so fast I wanted to push a pause button. The newborn grew into a baby and the baby started walking and talking, and we tracked every milestone. But even then, how foolish I was, to wish for no more diapers, to wish for the baby to sleep through the night, to wish for the baby to say a word. All these wishes for time to pass to get to the next milestone, only to get there to wish for the next one.
My kids are now entering the teen and tween years and I can't believe my babies are grown. I sometimes hear myself saying I can't wait to be a grandmother. I wonder at this moment as I pat the cream around my face to prevent the signs of aging, when will I stop wishing for the time to fast forward? When I am a grandmother will I be able to savor the moments of their childhood? Will I wish for the next milestone?
Even though I do live in the moment for the most part, I have to stop worrying about the future and concentrate on getting it right, right now. I don't want to look back on these years and think I wished it all away. Even the parts that are difficult and seem to never end, will end. They will end and my now teenager will be a man and it is the time right now is what determines what kind of man he will be. I need to focus on now.
I remember being a kid and the days were endless. You would get up in the morning all bright eyed and the day would seem like anything was possible. Maybe you would ride your bike to the duck pond and pick blueberries and then go home and play kickball and blow bubbles and hit the tennis ball against the house. Then you could catch frogs and climb trees and chase the dog that escaped from the neighbors yard. After lunch you would complain that there is nothing to do. You would go around the neighborhood and gather your friends and play Charlie's Angels and Wizard of Oz. Then lay on the lawn and watch clouds and say what they looked like and watch the planes leave thin white trails in their wake. When your friends went home you might twirl the baton in the backyard and pretend you were in a parade and practice cartwheels which you never were very good at. After dinner you would need a bath because catching frogs can be pretty dirty business. Pajamas, maybe a board game with daddy, story and then bed.
As you get older, the days go by a little more quickly. As a teenager, time starts to be a little more elusive. You watch the clock in math class waiting for the bell to ring so you can see if he notices you in the hall. You can't wait for the weekends to sleep at your girlfriends and borrow her clothes for the party that night. You wish for the week to be over so you can sleep in and watch t.v. You look forward to summer vacation. You start the wishing away of time. Rushing through days to get to what you think matters.
I don't really know where the college years went. I fell in love and looked to the future of being out of school and getting married. I got married and couldn't wait to have babies. Alec was born and I savored the time a little bit more. He grew so fast I wanted to push a pause button. The newborn grew into a baby and the baby started walking and talking, and we tracked every milestone. But even then, how foolish I was, to wish for no more diapers, to wish for the baby to sleep through the night, to wish for the baby to say a word. All these wishes for time to pass to get to the next milestone, only to get there to wish for the next one.
My kids are now entering the teen and tween years and I can't believe my babies are grown. I sometimes hear myself saying I can't wait to be a grandmother. I wonder at this moment as I pat the cream around my face to prevent the signs of aging, when will I stop wishing for the time to fast forward? When I am a grandmother will I be able to savor the moments of their childhood? Will I wish for the next milestone?
Even though I do live in the moment for the most part, I have to stop worrying about the future and concentrate on getting it right, right now. I don't want to look back on these years and think I wished it all away. Even the parts that are difficult and seem to never end, will end. They will end and my now teenager will be a man and it is the time right now is what determines what kind of man he will be. I need to focus on now.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Doggie Diapers? (not for the squeamish)
As I drank my coffee this morning I decided to do some research on dog incontinence. Not pleasant reading for sure, but you see our 14 year old dog Stella seems to be losing control. It started a few weeks ago with her not quite making it outside before pooping. (Sorry if this is gross-but it is just a fact of life). She would walk to the door dropping poo behind her every few steps, or we would wake up to find a few small poops near her bed. We know she was ashamed because as soon as we let her out-she took off. This is a practice of hers when she thinks we are mad at her. She eventually comes back and we all pretend nothing happened.
So last night Stella was home alone for a couple of hours while Alec and I went to dinner. When we got home and were about to settle down to watch a movie and our newly finished sun room, I discovered it. I had covered the new couch with a blanket because Stella has found she likes it there because she can see the yard from all angles out the windows. I picked up the blanket to snuggle up and felt that it was wet. I turned the lights on and saw stains on both of the cushions. Not one-both.
I was able to get the stains out of the couch, but I would like to keep the new furniture in good condition as long as possible. The kids have been threatened with their lives not to eat or drink on it, but how do I keep an incontinent dog off? Another problem arises with this situation as well. Joe has been trying to plan a family vacation for April and asked his mother to take the dog. I cannot in good conscience ask someone to take my dog who will most likely soil their home.
I know that Stella will not be around for a lot longer. Fourteen is old for a big dog. But besides the normal ailments from aging, she still seems healthy and vital. I remember how she used to chase Alec around the backyard when he was just a baby. He would start running and she would follow and playfully catch him by the leg of his pants, making him fall in a fit of laughter. She has been a fierce protector of our family, never hurting anyone, but making it clear these are her kids and no one would hurt them on her watch.
I am not ready to say goodbye. I will keep my steam cleaner ready and continue to cover the couch until Stella herself is ready to go. I think we might just stay home this April vacation . I wonder if she will be around when we go on vacation this summer. If she is, at least it is good to know they do sell doggie diapers.
Monday, March 22, 2010
Cheers
It is nice to know that even at 40 there are still some firsts to experience. This weekend I had my first ever birthday party. As the youngest of five children, my parents were done with parties by the time I came around. It is ok, there were some benefits to being the youngest. For all of my older sisters 40th birthday's we got together to celebrate. Everyone wanted to know what I wanted to do. I decided that I wanted a party.
Joe had wanted to throw me a party for my 30th birthday, but at the time I really didn't have a circle of friends. The kids were little and they were pretty much my whole life. Being a mother to toddlers can be very isolating. You might meet some nice moms on the playground, but for me they never lead to a lasting friendship. I pretty much had to beg him not to throw me a party that year. This time it was different. Over the past several years, through family, work, and the kids sports I have been fortunate to meet some wonderful people who I am lucky to call my friends.
On the way to the party I started having a panic attack. I don't like being the center of attention (contrary to what some people might think). I knew that when we walked through the door all eyes would be on me. I was worried that no one would be there. I was also thinking about singing karaoke in front of everyone I know. It is different doing it in front of strangers. Joe had asked the DJ (who was awesome) to have the karaoke available. I love to sing. I sing all the time-in the car, in the kitchen and at work I find myself humming all day long. I had chosen a song that I was comfortable with. I practiced-maybe even too much as my voice was going in and out all night. My friend Tina went first and was awesome- she sounded like a pro. Her doing so well gave me confidence. But what happened when I took the mike and started to sing Before He Cheats was less like singing and more like sounds from a frog dying. It was seriously bad. So much for impressing everyone with my talent-I had just humiliated myself in front of everyone.
No one followed my performance. I guess they didn't want to take the chance to sound as bad as me. The dancing continued and from looking at all the pictures it seems like everyone had a good time. Joe did an awesome job planning the party as well as entertaining us with his outrageous dancing. I had a blast (aside from the public shame). I can't wait for the next time we all get together.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Over the Hill?
Two weeks from now it is going to happen to me. It has happened to a lot of my friends this year already. Is it going to be a life changing event? I don't think so. I am just turning 40. When I was twenty, I believed that 40 was old. Really old. Now that I am almost there, I realize that the only thing that really changes as you get older is your body. I still feel like the same person as that 20 year old. Sometimes when I look in the mirror I feel like there must be some mistake, who is that woman with wrinkles forming around her eyes and (yuck) sun damage (ok age spots)? It is like a Disney movie and I am a teenager trapped inside the body of a 40 year old.
My teenager came home from school last week to find me cranking the ipod and dancing around to The Black Eyed Peas. He told me to stop trying to act young. (This from a 14 year old who acts 90). I explained to him that I was not playing hip music to try to impress him. I was having fun, in fact I had been listening to the ipod all day. I told him that someday when he was old he would get it. I have tried to impress upon him that for all we know this life is all we get. You might as well make the most of every single moment.
Although I am the same person some things have changed. When I was 20 I thought I was fat even though I weighed less than 120lbs. I would like to smack that 20 year old me. I tell a lot of my young friends to love their bodies now, because it doesn't get better. You may lose wieght, but the firmness and smooth skin changes over the years. So even now I tell myself to love my 40 year old body, because it isn't going to get better. Someday I will look back and long for what I have now. I am also a lot more confident than I was in my younger years. I would always worry about what people thought of me and held back so I wouldn't look stupid. Now I don't really care. When I was 26 my sister in law told me I was too old to have long hair. I liked my long hair. I liked wearing a high ponytail and french braids. I didn't really think I was too old to have long hair, but I listened to Suzanne and cut my hair into a bob. I hated it. I have been trying to get my hair back to that length ever since. It isn't as long as it was then, but it is long. Sometimes I even wear it in a low side pony tail with a flower in it. Like I said, I don't care what other people think, I like it.
When I turned 30, I got a tattoo. It wasn't something I had always wanted to do, but it felt right at the time. I still like my tattoo, but I don't see myself marking this decade with another one. How will I remember my 30s? My children have grown from toddlers to teens and tweens. With the growth of our kids, Joe and I have regained some freedom too. Being able to leave the kids without calling a sitter allows us to go on dates and have nights out with friends. The next decade will bring even more change with the kids driving, dating and going off to college.
Although I can't say I am looking forward to getting older, I will still enjoy the moments and never act my age.
My teenager came home from school last week to find me cranking the ipod and dancing around to The Black Eyed Peas. He told me to stop trying to act young. (This from a 14 year old who acts 90). I explained to him that I was not playing hip music to try to impress him. I was having fun, in fact I had been listening to the ipod all day. I told him that someday when he was old he would get it. I have tried to impress upon him that for all we know this life is all we get. You might as well make the most of every single moment.
Although I am the same person some things have changed. When I was 20 I thought I was fat even though I weighed less than 120lbs. I would like to smack that 20 year old me. I tell a lot of my young friends to love their bodies now, because it doesn't get better. You may lose wieght, but the firmness and smooth skin changes over the years. So even now I tell myself to love my 40 year old body, because it isn't going to get better. Someday I will look back and long for what I have now. I am also a lot more confident than I was in my younger years. I would always worry about what people thought of me and held back so I wouldn't look stupid. Now I don't really care. When I was 26 my sister in law told me I was too old to have long hair. I liked my long hair. I liked wearing a high ponytail and french braids. I didn't really think I was too old to have long hair, but I listened to Suzanne and cut my hair into a bob. I hated it. I have been trying to get my hair back to that length ever since. It isn't as long as it was then, but it is long. Sometimes I even wear it in a low side pony tail with a flower in it. Like I said, I don't care what other people think, I like it.
When I turned 30, I got a tattoo. It wasn't something I had always wanted to do, but it felt right at the time. I still like my tattoo, but I don't see myself marking this decade with another one. How will I remember my 30s? My children have grown from toddlers to teens and tweens. With the growth of our kids, Joe and I have regained some freedom too. Being able to leave the kids without calling a sitter allows us to go on dates and have nights out with friends. The next decade will bring even more change with the kids driving, dating and going off to college.
Although I can't say I am looking forward to getting older, I will still enjoy the moments and never act my age.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Rookie Mistake
Teenagers are a tough breed. Alec, my 14 year old, was always such an easy child. He was sweet, quiet, thoughtful and affectionate. He was also a very bright and serious child. I remember my first teacher conference with his kindergarten teacher. She suggested that we might tickle and hug him more. Joe and I sat in those tiny chairs with our jaws dropped and just blinked a few times. She is kidding, right? We both kind of chuckled uncomfortably, not knowing what to say. I think my response was finally "Well, if we tickled or hugged him more I think we could get in trouble." haha
The truth was that he thought too much. He thought about things children normally never consider. One time when he was around 9 we came upon an accident on the road. A man on a motorcycle had crashed and we were the ones who discovered the scene. The kids didn't see anything really, just the man's feet propped up on the guardrail. But Alec got very sad and wondered what would become of the man's family. How would they feel when they found out they had lost their father or husband. These are very profound feelings for an 9 year old. Kyle, who was 6, thought it was cool to see a dead guy. Not sure which one I should worry about more.
So now Alec is a teenager. I guess I was crazy to think that my sweet boy would retain these positive traits into his teen years. It may even be that these traits are still there but have somehow morphed into a dark force. His sensitivity is now what makes him sullen and moody. He came home from school the other day clearly in a foul mood. He would not talk about it no matter how much I coaxed. I am still learning how to parent a teen, and I made a rookie mistake. Instead of leaving him alone, I decided to poke the tiger. At the time I though humor might lighten the mood. I commented on how the way he was wearing his hair looked like Dwight Shrute from The Office. Apparently he had been hearing that all day and that was the reason for his mood. Ooops. How was I supposed to know?
I told him to wake me up the next morning and I would use the blow dryer to get rid of those curls. So the next morning he woke me bright and early to let me help with his hair. I straightened out the bothersome curls and he looked cute. Honest. I went back to bed and he went downstairs and wet his hair. Now I realize that when I was a teenager and my mother told me that I wore too much makeup and I insisted I looked good, maybe I should have listened to her. Is it possible that our parents actually had our best interest in mind?
The truth was that he thought too much. He thought about things children normally never consider. One time when he was around 9 we came upon an accident on the road. A man on a motorcycle had crashed and we were the ones who discovered the scene. The kids didn't see anything really, just the man's feet propped up on the guardrail. But Alec got very sad and wondered what would become of the man's family. How would they feel when they found out they had lost their father or husband. These are very profound feelings for an 9 year old. Kyle, who was 6, thought it was cool to see a dead guy. Not sure which one I should worry about more.
So now Alec is a teenager. I guess I was crazy to think that my sweet boy would retain these positive traits into his teen years. It may even be that these traits are still there but have somehow morphed into a dark force. His sensitivity is now what makes him sullen and moody. He came home from school the other day clearly in a foul mood. He would not talk about it no matter how much I coaxed. I am still learning how to parent a teen, and I made a rookie mistake. Instead of leaving him alone, I decided to poke the tiger. At the time I though humor might lighten the mood. I commented on how the way he was wearing his hair looked like Dwight Shrute from The Office. Apparently he had been hearing that all day and that was the reason for his mood. Ooops. How was I supposed to know?
I told him to wake me up the next morning and I would use the blow dryer to get rid of those curls. So the next morning he woke me bright and early to let me help with his hair. I straightened out the bothersome curls and he looked cute. Honest. I went back to bed and he went downstairs and wet his hair. Now I realize that when I was a teenager and my mother told me that I wore too much makeup and I insisted I looked good, maybe I should have listened to her. Is it possible that our parents actually had our best interest in mind?
Friday, February 5, 2010
Finding Relevance
I have decided to start a blog called Kitchen Chaos. Two years ago I wrote a newspaper column with the same name. The topic was food and family. I enjoyed sharing recipes and stories, but the newspaper industry is hurting and money lacking. I didn't mind writing the column for free at first, but when they sent me a bill for my subscription I decided that was too much. I have missed writing and decided to join the growing number of bloggers.
The kitchen is where we cook, create, eat and join together as a family every day. The kitchen is where the kids drop there shoes, backpacks and do homework. It is where we drink wine and talk with friends. We dance and sing in the kitchen. I have had some pretty intense discussions with my husband in the kitchen. The kitchen is truly the heart of the home.
This morning over coffee I was telling Joe about some issues at work. I could see I was losing him. He nodded while I explained about the trouble with the schedule and how certain people were aggravated with other people. But I could tell he was somewhere else. It is the same face I get when he tells me how he scored every single point in his last game of racquetball. I pretend to be interested but I am really thinking of my grocery list or the last episode of The Bachelor.
It is hard to feign interest in subjects that don't matter to you, but we all want to be heard. We want to be understood. We want to be relevant. So I am sending my voice out into the vast expanse of the Internet hoping to be heard and hoping someone might find it matters. Welcome to my kitchen.
The kitchen is where we cook, create, eat and join together as a family every day. The kitchen is where the kids drop there shoes, backpacks and do homework. It is where we drink wine and talk with friends. We dance and sing in the kitchen. I have had some pretty intense discussions with my husband in the kitchen. The kitchen is truly the heart of the home.
This morning over coffee I was telling Joe about some issues at work. I could see I was losing him. He nodded while I explained about the trouble with the schedule and how certain people were aggravated with other people. But I could tell he was somewhere else. It is the same face I get when he tells me how he scored every single point in his last game of racquetball. I pretend to be interested but I am really thinking of my grocery list or the last episode of The Bachelor.
It is hard to feign interest in subjects that don't matter to you, but we all want to be heard. We want to be understood. We want to be relevant. So I am sending my voice out into the vast expanse of the Internet hoping to be heard and hoping someone might find it matters. Welcome to my kitchen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
