My Plan vs. My Family's Plans

My plan: spend the afternoon organizing and setting up a workable desk space for myself.

Their plans:

Mom, can you give me a high pony?
Can we make my habitat model now?
Will you teach me how to ride my bike?
Honey, will you print these documents for me?
Mom, I'm hungry!
Mom, c'mere! I want to show you this app, and my new fort.
Mom, where do I put all this stuff from cleaning out the car?
Mom, I left my script at Janet's!  We have to get it!

And wouldn't you know it, the one kid who needs to do his homework is flying under the radar, staying conveniently out of sight, perfectly happy that five other people are occupying my attention.

* * *

I don't think that desk thing is going to happen for me today.

I'm not sure it will happen ever.

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7 Quick Takes: Volume 48, The "Thank You, Jesus!" Edition

Today's quick takes are brought to you by the Mad Dash Dance.  On the way to school this morning I needed to make sure we (my kids and I) had the following seven items:

~1~

One completed 4th Grade Mission project.  Did you know that the Mission San Antonio de Padua was the location of the very first Catholic wedding in California?  Or that it was the first Alta California mission to use fired tiles on its roof?  Or that this mission was particularly known for beautiful music?

I knew all that!  Thanks to my 4th grader, anyway.

~2~

One signed 7th Grade homework tally sheet.  Oh, and one 7th Grader, who has been home sick for two days, so it wasn't quite the slam dunk you'd think it would be not to leave him behind.

~3~

A small baggie with 6 homemade chocolate chip cookies in it, for the 2nd Grader to give to her teacher and the teacher's aide.  Because we made cookies last night, and Lady E wanted to share.  ♥

~4~

Art pieces for the 6th Grader to put up in his classroom.  Open House is this weekend, and since we haven't been back at school for very long, my kids don't have as many projects to display as their classmates.  So my son's 6th grade teacher told him he could bring in some of his art from home.  Here's one of the pieces we brought.

~5~

My computer, so I could squirrel away in a cafe and do some work while waiting for the kids Noontime Dismissal.  With my errands and such, it doesn't make much sense to go back home for a half day, so I had to make sure I had everything I needed to maximize my productivity while sipping a latte at Peets.  Hmmmm.  Maybe putting the kids back in school has some perks I hadn't figured on.  :)

~6~

One application to the Oakland School for the Arts, due today.  

~7~

And the one thing I didn't leave the house with: something that starts with the letter 'J'.  

Image Credit: http://www.printfection.com/shop/alphabet

Friday is Sharing Day in Kindergarten, which isn't quite a habit for us yet.    So of course, it occurs to me just as we enter the classroom. And there are all the other Kindergardeners, walking in with their seemingly unharried mothers, happily clutching their J items and snickering into their red school sweatshirts about Little T's scatter-brained mommy.   I swear, they were snickering.  Meanies.

Meanwhile, I'm helping the 4th grader schlep a two-part mission, while also carrying two large art projects, Little T's backpack, two Kindergarten readers that somehow came out of the backpack, and an errant sweatshirt, and I'm thinking to myself: "I remembered every other damn thing we needed, so why do I feel like such a loser for not having made sure Little T would have something to share?"  I told my daughter that when it was her turn to share, she could say:  "I brought Just Me."  

Lame.

I ran down to my car and started tossing things all over the place looking for the letter J.  An old wooden sandal...some stamps (oooo -- I needed stamps for those pesky bills I have to mail today! Score!)...dried up markers...an empty Rubio's cup...books, books, books...lots of drawing paper covered with very skinny girls with very large heads and Anime eyes...does any of this start with J???  And then I saw it, stuffed in the bottom of a dingy yellow bin, sitting in a little nest of crumbs and discarded wrappers: a very beat up Baby's Bible, with the spine weakly taped up with ineffectual scotch tape.  Bingo!  A book about JESUS!  We have our J item!  

I ran back up the stairs and into the Kinder class.  Breathlessly, I knelt down next to Little T and said:  "Here's your J item to share, honey!  It's a book about Jesus, and Jesus starts with J!"  She smiled a big wide grin, nodded her head vigorously, and said: "Oh!  Cool!"

THANK YOU, JESUS!

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Please visit our host, and click through to a few of the other Quick Takers.  

And I hope you have a jovial, jazzy, jocund, jaunty Friday!  May you be neither jaded nor jinxed nor jittery!

Signed,

Just Me

How?

We are back at school.  One of my kids hates it.  Let's call the kid Pat, for the sake of this blog post, a non-gender specific name, and let's go with she as the pronoun to refer to Pat, just because.

So Pat is miserable.  She is a smart, kind, funny, generous, well-grounded kid, and she is miserable.  She loved homeschooling...or so she says now, looking back, never mind that some days, getting her to participate in a modicum of school-like activities was challenging to say the least.  But I knew this transition would be toughest for her, of all the kids.

So she's truly miserable.  It's only a little over a week into the new arrangement, so we can still give it time and still play the wait and see game.  But here's the thing.  She's really miserable.

And if there's one thing we moms hate, it's seeing our kid miserable, suffering, struggling to make sense of what seems like the senseless.  One interesting wrinkle is that a handful of folks at the school have said things to me -- not aware that Pat is miserable -- that kind of tell an opposite story, that she's doing better than she's leading me to believe.  That doesn't really surprise me, as I think I would exaggerate to make a point, were I in Pat's shoes too, and not all exaggeration is falsehood.  So there's that.

But again.  Miserable.  After school, we have the sobbing, the gnashing of teeth, the questioning: "Why did you do this to me???"  We have literally hours of homework to slog through.  We have devastation and despair.  We have tears and sadness and frustration.  

I've tried many, many words to soothe the misery and help the poor kid out.  Words are falling flat for now, and I'm left with only words for myself, a mantra that isn't quite working yet: Be patient.  Be encouraging.  Be hopeful.  Wait for my words of wisdom to sink in, to show themselves to Pat as true.  Be patient.  This too shall pass.

So now, My Dear Internetters, I turn it to you: How do you best support a child who is miserable, when you cannot change the situation creating the misery, or at least cannot take him or her out of it, and when the child in question is highly, highly resistant to your efforts?

I want Pat to know she is loved, that she can handle this situation, that we are here to help, that the school is here to help, that good things can come out of bad situations, that she and we will prevail.  I want her to face this challenge with all the support necessary to overcome it.

But how?

Help.  Please.  I need some rockin' good ideas.

* * *

A New One

"Everyone get your lunch boxes out and finish your food!"  It's a common refrain on the way home from school, sometimes followed by a tirade about the hungry children in the world, depending on how feisty I am feeling.  The kids have given me every excuse in the book for why they didn't eat the lunch I packed.  I got a new one today:

I didn't eat that cutie today because I love cuties so much, and it's so beautiful, that I wanted to save it!

Oooooh-kaaaay.  So, you didn't eat your food because I gave you food you love?

And you won't eat your food if I send something you don't like either.

Looks like you will only be eating lunch on the weekends then.

* * *

Three Morning Morsels

Parenting is like riding an endless pendulum set between hair-pulling frustration and spirit-soaring inspiration.  Within the space of 15 minutes, a parent can find herself along many different points on the pendulum's path.  Take this morning for instance: frustration, reprimand, surprise, and gratitude, all in the space of a car ride to school:

* * *

On our way out the door this rainy morning, I double-checked the raincoat status of my young charges.  Lady E's response: "It's in my bag!"  15 minutes later, at school, I discover that by "my bag" she meant her soccer backpack, not her school backpack.  Whuck?!?!  So...Lady E...when I asked if you had your raincoat, you thought I was just confirming that you were leaving it behind in the backpack we were not taking with us to school???  Again: WHUCK?

* * *

Car trips to and from school, as the last week has reminded me, are fraught with arguments.  Lots of bickering, sniping, and hurling of insults.  Lots of general nastiness.  Last Thursday, as I circled around a local bakery after school, searching for a parking space so I could take my kids in to get a treat, the general nastiness was in full effect.  And bing!  The light bulb went on.  No bakery.  No treats.  No rewarding this behavior.  I set a decree: Henceforth, I will not be taking my children for any after school treats until the car rides to and from school are devoid of meanness.

They were not happy.  As I drove away from the bakery, bitter that I was not going to get an afternoon latte, the kids were silent and sullen.  It was an improvement on the bickering.

Friday: no treats.

This morning: before I had even pulled away from my house, the verdict was in: no treats.

And then I got a shock.  When I said "Remember guys, we won't be going to get any treats or snacks until I don't have to listen to car-fighting anymore," my oldest child said: "That's a really good solution, mom."

Huh?  You -- my teenager -- think I had a good idea?  REALLY?  Wow.

Proof that sometimes I know what I'm doing AND that what I am doing works.  Sometimes.

* * *

Little T is learning to read.  Her older sister sat down with her the other day and read one of Little T's kindergarten readers with her.  This morning, she told me that she remembered reading those "decodables" when she was a K-er.  She said:

I remember sounding out the word P-O-N-D, and saying puh-ah-nnn-duh, and figuring out how to do that.  And Mrs. Payne said: 'Very good Lola!  That was very good!'  And I got two stickers in my book that day!

What a great memory to have.  I do not remember learning to read, but it seems that my daughter remembers the moment she was handed the keys to words and sounds and books and stories.  It started with a pond, a great teacher, and a couple of stickers, and she hasn't looked back since.  Thank God for teachers like Mrs. Payne and for memories like that one!

* * *

Parenting, like my kids, makes me dizzy.

* * *

7 Quick Takes, Volume 47

Hello Friday!  Love ya' baby!  You look fabulous--what's your secret?

Here are some quick takes for your perusing pleasure.  Please visit our lovely host and sample some links to other quick takers.  And a little comment here and there wouldn't kill ya'.

~1~

Every year, we say we are going to have our taxes done early, and every year, we end up being big fat liars. This year?  Taxes DONE.  In the words of my 5 year old: BOO-YAH!

~2~

So yeah, the kids went back to school.  I am sitting in an empty house, blogging with abandon, and reeling from the tornado that is my house in Getting Out The Door For School mode.  Returning to school was a big decision.  The thing about big decisions is that they aren't usually clear cut.  There are pros, there are cons, and sadly, there is no great big neon sign pointing to the right answer.

THIS is what I need!
photo credit: Being Alexus

I loved homeschooling.  It was damn hard, and it didn't always go well, and there were plenty of days when I felt certain I was accomplishing little more than ensuring the livelihood of my childrens' future therapists.  But the kind of education we all enjoyed, and the "off the grid" lifestyle, and the moments of radiance, all of that made it great.

So why are they back at school?  It's complicated.  It's part financial -- I can work if they are in school and increase our income; it's part administrative, as in the school administration changed and the whole place is moving in a positive direction; it's part preparation, for the different directions my older kids want to go.

I do wish big life decisions came with some kind of assurance, a certificate or something that would officially decree that THIS WILL BE GOOD.

Lacking that, I'll just have to wait and see.  Hate that.

~3~

My 11 year old son is getting ready to apply to the Oakland School for the Arts, a public charter school for grades 6 through 12.  Students are required to apply and audition in their chosen arts area: his is visual art.  We toured the school a few weeks ago, and he really, really, really wants to get in.  There is no question that he is talented, but we have no way of knowing what kind of talent he will be competing against for the open slots.

I want this for him.  Bad.

Wish him luck!  Say a prayer!  Send positivity out into the universe!  Say another prayer, because that vague positivity stuff is a little wishy-washy if you ask me!

And come on.  Look at this.  I mean, really.  I ask you.  What other decision could they make?  Really. Am I right?  Of course I am.

~4~

My other son begins rehearsals next week for A Midsummer Nights Dream.  That's by Shakespeare, you know.

This production is put on by The Greenwood Players, a group made up entirely of young people.  Students in middle and high school direct and act, create the sets and costumes, design the programs, and handle all of the logistics, and my kid gets to participate for free.

And so today, the recipient of the Faith in Humanity Restoration Award goes to the amazing kids of the Greenwood Players.  You are an inspiration to the rest of us, and a lovely antidote to the news of the day.

~5~

Funny text mishaps:  I wrote a text today to let a friend know what time I would drop by to give her something, and accidentally wrote: "I'll be on my way to pick my kids."  After re-reading it, I got a little chuckle, imagining myself at the school saying: "OK, I'll take that one...and that one...but definitely not that one...hmmm, who else do I want today?"  Maybe I could come home with a whole new set of 5!  That might be interesting for awhile!

And that of course made me think of the time my phone autocorrected another text of mine that was supposed to say:

"I will have kids with me."

to 

"I will have LSD with me."

Wow!  That sure would be a game changer!

What's your favorite autocorrect story?  And if you haven't seen this site, then I suggest hiding from the children (this is definitely not kid-friendly content) and get ready to laugh so hard you'll cry, spit, snort, and possibly pee.

~6~

We watched Super 8 for our family movie night a few weeks ago.  That was a great movie.  Did y'all see it?  If not, do yourself a favor and rectify that situation.  Heart, humor, terror, and an alien.  What more do you need?

~7~

I can't think of a final take, so I'll leave you with a photo of one cute newly-minted Kindergartener:

Look out world!  Little T has been unleashed!

I Would Like To Live...

...inside my 9 year old daughter's imagination:

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