Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Individualism vs. Community
I think one of the things we as a culture need to consider is the whole "self-esteem" push. Yes, each of us matters. Yes, we don't want to base all of our decisions on what other people think. Yes, we should be happy in our own skin and confident in ourselves. No, people shouldn't judge other people. But... Humans do judge. Humans are well known for making snap decisions based on first impressions.
It's all well and good to say, "Be yourself!" but if being yourself involves no personal hygiene you shouldn't be surprised when no one wants to get within ten feet of you. If being yourself means showing no compassion or empathy for others then you aren't going to get very far in life. If being yourself means treating other people as less or as inconsequential then we end up with a lot of the problems we are now suffering from in this world.
I've talked about this with my boys. Other people's opinions of you DO matter. They matter in class, in the workforce, and socially. If a teacher likes you, you will have a better time in that class. If you antagonize your boss or coworkers, work will be miserable. If you don't consider your friends' wants and needs, you will soon find yourself without friends.
One of the big differences between our culture and others where there are more tightly knit community values and smoother social interactions is that those other countries place a HUGE value on respect for others and community as well as recognize that each person's actions affect the community around them. They understand the concept of manners as social grease and the fact that it is easier for one person to get ahead if the whole group does, that one person alone can do nothing without the community that they grew from.
In America, we idolize the individual, which is great, but what is not great is when it is done at the expense of valuing the community that surrounds each person. A superstar isn't a superstar in a vacuum. They have crews, fans, and a social support network. No one can go it alone and it's high time we as a country wake up to that fact.
Saturday, February 10, 2018
Talk to Your Kids about Suicide and Depression Before It Is Too Late
As a parent who suffered from suicidal ideation when I was a teenager, I would like to bring something to the attention of all the parents out there. We tell our kids to talk to us if they get hurt, have weird physical symptoms, or are being bullied. They know that blood coming out of their bodies where it's not supposed to is bad. They know that there are medications to help various physical health problems, inhalers for asthma, etc.
How many of you have told your kids that thoughts like, "No one would care if I was gone" or "I'm useless and just cause problems" are symptoms of depression and not actual, real, true thoughts? That no matter what those thoughts whisper deceptively in their minds, you and their friends would absolutely miss them and be devastated if anything ever happened to them?
How many of you have explained what suicidal ideation is? Not just, "If you ever want to kill yourself you should tell someone," but pointing out that wanting to give up on everything, losing interest in things that you used to enjoy, and so on are also very dangerous symptoms of depression?
How many of you have told them that symptoms like that are caused by brain chemical imbalances and that there are medications out there that can help? That you will always take them seriously and take care of them even if the symptoms are mental and not physical?
Bringing up depression and suicidal ideation will NOT cause it. It will, however, give your kids a baseline of what is healthy and what is not when it comes to their mental health. They will know those thoughts are false and symptoms and not real and something to act on.
Just like it can be hard to talk to them about abuse and kidnapping and other things we, as parents, never want to happen to them, mental health discussions can be hard. We all want to think it will never be our kid. A lot of people keep thinking it won't be their kid until their kid acts on the symptomatic thoughts though. Please don't put yourself in that position.
Tuesday, July 4, 2017
A Year of Advocacy Hell
I just found this writing from years ago that never got posted, so I'll share it now.
I figured I would add this for those of you who haven't heard the trials and tribulations we went through to get Wolf into the school he is in now.
In July 2008 I read an article about gifted kids and said "This sounds like Wolf." I went online and did some research (ok, a WHOLE lot of research). It turns out that most kids aren't doing math when they are three, I honestly had no idea that was out of the ordinary. In my research I found out about early Kindergarten entrance and contacted my district to find out if it was an option in our area. Mind you, at that point I wasn't gung ho about placing him in K early, I JUST wanted to know if it was possible. Mid August 2008 I finally found one person in the school district who actually both knew the answer and was not rude to me about it which was a nice change. I was then put in contact with the charter system and told that Wolf could start with one of their schools (homeschool based system) that fall. We had never planned to homeschool so that was an adjustment, but it did make sense for Wolf. Shortly afterwards I was told he could not actually start that fall because the school was full (which the principal of the school later told me was a lie). I was told by the district to homeschool Kindergarten in 08-09 so we did and I just let him go at his own pace.
I quickly realized that a grade skip, in other words starting 1st grade when he was five, would do him a lot of good. It would be a closer academic fit, he was ready for it socially and then he wouldn't have to skip later when there was more social stigma and stress involved. I talked with the principal of the charter schools again to see about getting him placed in first grade in fall 2009. Much hassle ensued and as well as much disbelief in his abilities. The principal finally suggested that I give him grade assessment tests at home. I think they wanted to prove to me that I was seeing things that weren't there, or was pushing him, either way that I was ruining his childhood, etc... I asked what we should do if he aced them, they said come back and get the next level. By the time I asked for grade 3 math they were getting really tired of us.
I checked out several of the charter's programs to see if any of them would work for Wolf. Both Wolf and I were treated rudely by several of the well known and respected teachers we met. Wolf was blatantly talked down to and our interest in the programs was pretty much disregarded as soon as they knew his age. The teacher even said, "Oh, don't worry some of the parents bring their preschoolers so he'll have kids to play with." Seriously? We finally had an appointment with the teacher of the charter he would probably end up in and I spent a half an hour being lectured about how I was not allowing him to be a child. I didn't even get to ask most of my questions about the program. I drove home crying and feeling completely defeated. That was the last straw.
I ended up calling the Independent Study program in the neighboring district. I had talked with them before when we had thought about moving there. I told the teacher all about Wolf and what he could do. She loved the idea of having him as a student. Then I told her the thing that turned everyone else off, he would be five in August 2009. She had no idea what the problem with that was. She said he was my kid and I knew him better than she did. She was willing to take everything I said sight unseen. She also specifically requested that he be her student and was willing to fight to get a transfer to go through if that was what it would take.
We applied for a interdistrict transfer and they were going to make us go through a bunch of red tape since we hadn't even enrolled in our home district yet. However, the person in charge of the process was the first person I had talked to in our home district and I told her exactly what had happened, including all the mistreatment and lies (some of which she had been a part of), and she pushed it through on her end rather than face me going up the chain of command. We had to wait until the day school started before we got the official confirmation that the transfer went through, but it did and Wolf gleefully blasted his way through his first grade work and his second grade math. He even got to study Logic and Spanish to help keep him challenged. He loved it and the fit was perfect.
Wolf actually ended up back in our home district after several years (and an almost complete staff change in the charter program) having rules bent to allow him to to attend the 6-8 grade middle school program when he was enrolled in 5th grade and young fourth grade aged. That happened all thanks to his teacher in the Independent Study program who was retiring and wanted to make sure he ended up someplace that worked for him.
It took a year learning that school districts and a large percentage of school staff are less interested in a child's education than keeping the status quo and fitting all the pegs in their round holes whether or not the pegs themselves are round or square, but we found the perfect fit in the end and that is all that matters.
I figured I would add this for those of you who haven't heard the trials and tribulations we went through to get Wolf into the school he is in now.
In July 2008 I read an article about gifted kids and said "This sounds like Wolf." I went online and did some research (ok, a WHOLE lot of research). It turns out that most kids aren't doing math when they are three, I honestly had no idea that was out of the ordinary. In my research I found out about early Kindergarten entrance and contacted my district to find out if it was an option in our area. Mind you, at that point I wasn't gung ho about placing him in K early, I JUST wanted to know if it was possible. Mid August 2008 I finally found one person in the school district who actually both knew the answer and was not rude to me about it which was a nice change. I was then put in contact with the charter system and told that Wolf could start with one of their schools (homeschool based system) that fall. We had never planned to homeschool so that was an adjustment, but it did make sense for Wolf. Shortly afterwards I was told he could not actually start that fall because the school was full (which the principal of the school later told me was a lie). I was told by the district to homeschool Kindergarten in 08-09 so we did and I just let him go at his own pace.
I quickly realized that a grade skip, in other words starting 1st grade when he was five, would do him a lot of good. It would be a closer academic fit, he was ready for it socially and then he wouldn't have to skip later when there was more social stigma and stress involved. I talked with the principal of the charter schools again to see about getting him placed in first grade in fall 2009. Much hassle ensued and as well as much disbelief in his abilities. The principal finally suggested that I give him grade assessment tests at home. I think they wanted to prove to me that I was seeing things that weren't there, or was pushing him, either way that I was ruining his childhood, etc... I asked what we should do if he aced them, they said come back and get the next level. By the time I asked for grade 3 math they were getting really tired of us.
I checked out several of the charter's programs to see if any of them would work for Wolf. Both Wolf and I were treated rudely by several of the well known and respected teachers we met. Wolf was blatantly talked down to and our interest in the programs was pretty much disregarded as soon as they knew his age. The teacher even said, "Oh, don't worry some of the parents bring their preschoolers so he'll have kids to play with." Seriously? We finally had an appointment with the teacher of the charter he would probably end up in and I spent a half an hour being lectured about how I was not allowing him to be a child. I didn't even get to ask most of my questions about the program. I drove home crying and feeling completely defeated. That was the last straw.
I ended up calling the Independent Study program in the neighboring district. I had talked with them before when we had thought about moving there. I told the teacher all about Wolf and what he could do. She loved the idea of having him as a student. Then I told her the thing that turned everyone else off, he would be five in August 2009. She had no idea what the problem with that was. She said he was my kid and I knew him better than she did. She was willing to take everything I said sight unseen. She also specifically requested that he be her student and was willing to fight to get a transfer to go through if that was what it would take.
We applied for a interdistrict transfer and they were going to make us go through a bunch of red tape since we hadn't even enrolled in our home district yet. However, the person in charge of the process was the first person I had talked to in our home district and I told her exactly what had happened, including all the mistreatment and lies (some of which she had been a part of), and she pushed it through on her end rather than face me going up the chain of command. We had to wait until the day school started before we got the official confirmation that the transfer went through, but it did and Wolf gleefully blasted his way through his first grade work and his second grade math. He even got to study Logic and Spanish to help keep him challenged. He loved it and the fit was perfect.
Wolf actually ended up back in our home district after several years (and an almost complete staff change in the charter program) having rules bent to allow him to to attend the 6-8 grade middle school program when he was enrolled in 5th grade and young fourth grade aged. That happened all thanks to his teacher in the Independent Study program who was retiring and wanted to make sure he ended up someplace that worked for him.
It took a year learning that school districts and a large percentage of school staff are less interested in a child's education than keeping the status quo and fitting all the pegs in their round holes whether or not the pegs themselves are round or square, but we found the perfect fit in the end and that is all that matters.
Sunday, June 18, 2017
They Never Told Me: Ruminations on Aging and Expectations
When I was a little girl I would roll out of bed, brush my teeth and all that, eat breakfast, get dressed (yes, in that order), and go outside and be active, or read, or build things. Other than school, little interfered with my free time. I never forgot what I was doing mid-process. I never was too sad, tired or in pain to want to get out of bed. I never thought ahead to meter out my time and energy so that I could make it through a day. I rarely worried about anything. There was nothing I couldn’t do if I tried.
The picture that is painted of adulthood for children glows brilliant with possibilities and freedom. Kids don’t see work hours and drudgery. They don’t see bills and bank accounts dipping dangerously low. Kids just see money to do things with and no adults telling them what to do or how to be. They don’t see the bosses, co-workers, other parents and community out there placing pressure on adults to adult correctly. Children don’t see doctor visits and pill caddies, medical tests and diagnoses. They don’t see doctors dismissing symptoms and insurance companies refusing medicines. Adults actively work to hide these things from them so as to not scare them about the stability and permanence of the adults in the children’s lives. Kids think everything is superheros and roses until someone grows old and grey and retires; then they go on cruises.
It’s part of the narrative we give children that falls apart as they grow up and the magic fades, along with belief in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus (I still believe though, he’s the Spirit of Giving and I dare anyone to tell me that isn’t alive during Yuletide.) Still, I wish I had known or at the very least had some awareness of how complicated it can be to be an adult. I might have enjoyed my body more while it still ran smoothly and had power and energy. No one tells you that your body might start to malfunction while you are still in what is considered the prime of your life. There is no guidebook available for the transition from capable to struggling.
Even other adults brush it aside with platitudes because everyone has aches and pains when they get older, you see. It can’t really be that bad, after all everyone gets tired now and then. Everyone gets sad and worries about things. Just cheer up and you’ll feel better. Adults are expected to suck it up and deal. We are supposed to get on with the adulting and not let things like chronic pain, fatigue, depression or anxiety affect us. Even other adults don’t want to face the reality of chronic conditions before retirement age: eyes closed, fingers in the ears, la la la la la la…
The thing is that it really is just life, but it’s a part of life that people hide. It’s not currently “normal” in modern society so we don’t want to see it or hear about it. There was a time when children grew up around birth, aging, and death. They lived life as part of the cycle, not apart from the cycle. Heck, they used to know that beef came from a cow, not from a pack at the market. Kids only know and accept what they are exposed to.
If we stopped hiding the less pleasant possibilities of life from, not just kids, but also adults, I can see life changing for the better for many people. I’m not saying to shove down children’s throats that being an adult can be difficult and that you never know when your health will fail, just stop hiding it. Stop pretending that everyone can do everything, all the time, perfectly. If it became accepted that some people just don’t have the energy or capability to be running their type A personality game 24/7/365 and we just started accepting that people will do the best within their abilities at that moment think of how much smoother life would run and how much happier everyone would be with less pressure to live up to.
The picture that is painted of adulthood for children glows brilliant with possibilities and freedom. Kids don’t see work hours and drudgery. They don’t see bills and bank accounts dipping dangerously low. Kids just see money to do things with and no adults telling them what to do or how to be. They don’t see the bosses, co-workers, other parents and community out there placing pressure on adults to adult correctly. Children don’t see doctor visits and pill caddies, medical tests and diagnoses. They don’t see doctors dismissing symptoms and insurance companies refusing medicines. Adults actively work to hide these things from them so as to not scare them about the stability and permanence of the adults in the children’s lives. Kids think everything is superheros and roses until someone grows old and grey and retires; then they go on cruises.
It’s part of the narrative we give children that falls apart as they grow up and the magic fades, along with belief in the tooth fairy and Santa Claus (I still believe though, he’s the Spirit of Giving and I dare anyone to tell me that isn’t alive during Yuletide.) Still, I wish I had known or at the very least had some awareness of how complicated it can be to be an adult. I might have enjoyed my body more while it still ran smoothly and had power and energy. No one tells you that your body might start to malfunction while you are still in what is considered the prime of your life. There is no guidebook available for the transition from capable to struggling.
Even other adults brush it aside with platitudes because everyone has aches and pains when they get older, you see. It can’t really be that bad, after all everyone gets tired now and then. Everyone gets sad and worries about things. Just cheer up and you’ll feel better. Adults are expected to suck it up and deal. We are supposed to get on with the adulting and not let things like chronic pain, fatigue, depression or anxiety affect us. Even other adults don’t want to face the reality of chronic conditions before retirement age: eyes closed, fingers in the ears, la la la la la la…
The thing is that it really is just life, but it’s a part of life that people hide. It’s not currently “normal” in modern society so we don’t want to see it or hear about it. There was a time when children grew up around birth, aging, and death. They lived life as part of the cycle, not apart from the cycle. Heck, they used to know that beef came from a cow, not from a pack at the market. Kids only know and accept what they are exposed to.
If we stopped hiding the less pleasant possibilities of life from, not just kids, but also adults, I can see life changing for the better for many people. I’m not saying to shove down children’s throats that being an adult can be difficult and that you never know when your health will fail, just stop hiding it. Stop pretending that everyone can do everything, all the time, perfectly. If it became accepted that some people just don’t have the energy or capability to be running their type A personality game 24/7/365 and we just started accepting that people will do the best within their abilities at that moment think of how much smoother life would run and how much happier everyone would be with less pressure to live up to.
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Why I Hate Ground Wasps
Figuring I should be a good mom and conscript the children into forced labor in the not quite boilingly hot outdoors we went out to clear brush, move wood, and other such necessary home ownerly tasks. They are good boys, so there was no complaining about the conscription. Everything was going smoothly, although I did realize I probably should have had coffee, pain killers and a muscle relaxer first.
Then Little Bear stepped on a ground wasp nest. Well, more specifically, he stepped on the unstacked wood pile near where his brother had been working and the wood pile settling seemed to have started demolition proceedings on the nest. Needless to to say neither ground wasps nor Little Bear were at all pleased with this and much screaming and running about ensued.
This isn't the first time Little Bear and I have dealt with ground wasps. Several years ago we had an altercation with them when his school was on a hike so we already knew this was going to suck. I had him run into the house with them chasing him and then got his brother and myself into the house without any of the flying sadists. I had Little Bear strip off his pants on the back deck because that is where they had decided to go after him, straight up his pants... He was then sent to the kitchen. No tagalongs yet, but at least two bites and much screaming and tears.
A friend had just stopped by to pick up someone and offered to help so I had them go search for plantain while I found baking soda. They didn't find any, but in the meantime more screaming ensued. It turns out Little Bear had managed to bring one of his new friends inside with him and said friend was busy doing all sorts of damage through his sweatshirt! Like any good mom would do I panicked and tried to remain calm (yah, right) and got a paper towel and squished the guts out of the nasty bugger. Then we stripped everything off of him just to make sure he was bug free.
After coating him with baking soda, counting about 5-7 possible welts, and finding out our wasp death spray was empty, I went off in search of plantain partially because I knew Little Bear wouldn't be consoled until I found it even with advil and icepacks and partially because plantain really is a miracle cure for stings. I knew there was some at my older son's school so that is where I went, still no coffee and in my house grubbies and bra-less because, you know, that's what moms do.
I came home with handfuls of leaves, way more than I could possibly need, to find him still standing in the kitchen with icepacks, flaked off baking soda littering the ground around him, clutching his special stuffies, and still crying. I poulticed him up in the ancient fashion of chopped and pounded leaves covered with bandaids. Turns out there were only three real welts left after we washed off the baking soda. I'm drying the rest of the leaves I hastily harvested in case this happens again. Then we will get the chance to learn if dried leaves even work.
Then I cleaned the kitchen and had coffee. Definitely need to remember coffee before ground wasp attack next time, if there is a next time. Little Bear seems intent on no longer interacting with nature unless forced at gun point, but I deal with that particular issue once he heals.
Then Little Bear stepped on a ground wasp nest. Well, more specifically, he stepped on the unstacked wood pile near where his brother had been working and the wood pile settling seemed to have started demolition proceedings on the nest. Needless to to say neither ground wasps nor Little Bear were at all pleased with this and much screaming and running about ensued.
This isn't the first time Little Bear and I have dealt with ground wasps. Several years ago we had an altercation with them when his school was on a hike so we already knew this was going to suck. I had him run into the house with them chasing him and then got his brother and myself into the house without any of the flying sadists. I had Little Bear strip off his pants on the back deck because that is where they had decided to go after him, straight up his pants... He was then sent to the kitchen. No tagalongs yet, but at least two bites and much screaming and tears.
A friend had just stopped by to pick up someone and offered to help so I had them go search for plantain while I found baking soda. They didn't find any, but in the meantime more screaming ensued. It turns out Little Bear had managed to bring one of his new friends inside with him and said friend was busy doing all sorts of damage through his sweatshirt! Like any good mom would do I panicked and tried to remain calm (yah, right) and got a paper towel and squished the guts out of the nasty bugger. Then we stripped everything off of him just to make sure he was bug free.
After coating him with baking soda, counting about 5-7 possible welts, and finding out our wasp death spray was empty, I went off in search of plantain partially because I knew Little Bear wouldn't be consoled until I found it even with advil and icepacks and partially because plantain really is a miracle cure for stings. I knew there was some at my older son's school so that is where I went, still no coffee and in my house grubbies and bra-less because, you know, that's what moms do.
I came home with handfuls of leaves, way more than I could possibly need, to find him still standing in the kitchen with icepacks, flaked off baking soda littering the ground around him, clutching his special stuffies, and still crying. I poulticed him up in the ancient fashion of chopped and pounded leaves covered with bandaids. Turns out there were only three real welts left after we washed off the baking soda. I'm drying the rest of the leaves I hastily harvested in case this happens again. Then we will get the chance to learn if dried leaves even work.
Then I cleaned the kitchen and had coffee. Definitely need to remember coffee before ground wasp attack next time, if there is a next time. Little Bear seems intent on no longer interacting with nature unless forced at gun point, but I deal with that particular issue once he heals.
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