I just heard the kid that got an iPad for Christmas ask my son what a yo-yo was.
He's five.
Now, if you think this is going to be a rant on appropriate gifts for youth or how we are excelling the degradation of the next generation with mind-numbing electronics, it's not. Sorry. Guess you can't please everyone.
If I've learned anything in 2015, it's the power of tolerance and keeping an open mind. What pain or turmoil does it cause me that some five year old got an iPad? How in any way does that impact my life? It doesn't.
Instead, I'm going to focus on the fact that he didn't know what a yo-yo was. No, it's still not going to be a rant. Looks like I'm zero for two today. Instead, this will be an observation. A detailed observation filled with acceptance and different points of view and all around good feelings of them. I know, it must be this crappy Christmas cheer people are raving about that is finally getting to me.
I'll backtrack. Two kids came over to play with my kids. The didn't know how to play checkers or what a yo-yo was. Is this weird? No. Not really. I just learned how to play checkers the other day, at 31 years old. And a yo-yo has never been able to hold my attention or patience for very long.
My son, on the other hand, completely devours activities that require intense thought and concentration. It's the only time he sits still and I can see his little brain working and it mesmerizes me. He's a brilliant little boy and I'll do everything in my power to foster this and help it grow and make it something he feels confident about.
So these kids come over and upon learning that they don't know what a yo-yo is or how to play checkers, he proceeds to teach them. Without missing a beat, he teaches the girl how to play checkers and shows the boy how to use the yo-yo. Upon hearing that the boy received an iPad for Christmas, my son simply said that was cool and showed him the mega Lego set he got. Then my son showed them all the puzzles they got. Then they went and played with something else.
He didn't falter. He didn't judge. He shared. He played. Life was simple and grand and full of toys and fun and the excitement that is childhood after Christmas.
Oh, the lessons we could learn from our youth.
The kinds of possessions they had didn't divide them. It didn't separate them. They did this miraculous thing called talking and sharing and playing and not a single judgement crossed their minds.
I'm not going to lie, some judgements crossed my mind.
Who gets their five year old an iPad? Those are expensive. They must have money. And for the same kid to not know what a yo-yo is? What kind of a childhood is that? Does all of his brain power depend on an electronic?
Luckily, I realized what a twat I was being and stopped myself. He probably got an iPad for the same reason my son got a Lego set: because it's something he would enjoy and play with and would help him learn. Also, for the record, my son got an XBox. A used, $80 XBox with used $5 games. But he doesn't know that. He doesn't care about that. He wanted one, and he got one, and he's happy and grateful to have one. He didn't expect it. He didn't demand it. And he holds it just as important as the checkers game or yo-yo.
How do I know it's not the same for his friend? I don't. I assumed. And I made an ass of myself. Even if it was for one split second and the thoughts were only in my head, it was an ass move. And I'm sorry.
I'm not sure if my son knows what an iPad is. I'm not sure he cares. I know that I don't want him to be dependent on electronics for entertainment. This is why we got him a checkers game, because I knew he'd love to play the game and it would be a great family bonding opportunity. That's why he got Legos and book and puzzles. And an XBox, because we're not total hippie dippie tools. Well, at least my husband isn't. I'm getting there...
And just because his friend got an iPad doesn't mean that his parents don't value those same things. It doesn't mean that this kid is going to be any better or worse than my children. It only means what I attach to it. The simplest aspect is that he got an iPad. Anything beyond that is speculation on my part. Clearly, from watching them all interact together, I'm the one that is in the wrong.
These kids taught me something today. They didn't sit me down and have a chat. They just did and I watched and I learned. That must be what it's like for them. They watch us and learn then apply it. It's kind of a terrifying thought.
It sounds like I need to do some more watching and some more learning. Maybe in my teaching, I need to pay more attention to what I do and say since they are hearing it and learning it. Maybe instead of focusing on the little annoyances that my son still needs to learn, I should focus on the fact that he's got some pretty important aspects of life figured out.
Maybe I've had my Grinch colored glasses on for the last few months and I need to put my rose colored glasses back on. After all, it is a new year in just a few short days, and there is nothing more exciting than the possibilities that a new year holds. All the adventures have yet to be had. That is something - at least one thing - to be happy about.
Happy New Year.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Tuesday, December 15, 2015
From Deserver to Grateful Earner
As a writer, sometimes people ask what my favorite word is. I have one, but I won't tell you, at least not until I change all my important passwords...
I also have words that I don't enjoy. The word panties bothers me. Yes, even in the heat of the moment, I'd prefer knickers. The word conscious, simply because I can never remember how to spell it and I get it confused with conscience. And of course, any over-used cliche meant to describe the male genitalia. Please, don't call it his "member." It doesn't wear a special jacket or belong to a bowling team. You can be more creative than that.
One of the words that makes me cringe the most: Deserve.
Deserve
Verb
1) to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation
It's not the word itself that bothers me, but rather, how people use it. We tend to think that because of our qualities or situations, we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.
That might be one of my favorite words: Earn.
Earn
Verb
It's easy to understand why these two words are seen as interchangeable. Their definitions mirror each other and use the same wording. In the American Dream culture that we've created, we believe we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.
For example:
I earned the ability to go to college through hard work; getting good grades, writing a killer essay, and saving money to pay the tuition.
I deserve to go to college. I have the grades, I wrote my essay, and if my parents can't pay for it, there are student loans available.
I earned my position and promotion. I listened to my mentors and their feedback. I care about what I am doing and who is impacted. I've already proven that I am the right person for the position.
I deserve that promotion. I've put my time in and done everything that is asked. I need this promotion and the pay increase it comes with. Once I get the promotion, I'll prove that I am right for it.
I'm not going to lie, I used to be a Deserver. I was that person in both of the examples above. Raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by the American Dream. Now put that damn thing down and use it to get to work. You're missing the point.
And before we go too far, I want to specify that it is not just millennials (like myself) that have this attitude. We were taught this and we followed it because we saw that it worked. Like any successful disease, it's easily contagious. And no, again, I'm not blaming the past generation or this generation's fuck-up. We did it, continue to do it and we need to own that. Not all of us, maybe not even the majority of us. I don't think the next generation is doomed, either. In fact, I think they caught on and learned from our mistakes.
Honest hard work has gone the way of the virtue. We've slowly began replacing deserve with right, an incredibly terrifying movement that has already begun to divide us. I won't go into that difference, though. That's complicated and painful and full of politics and (for once) I'm not nearly cynical enough.
So now that we've found ourselves in this rut of earning and deserving, what do we do? How do we fix it? Do we want to fix it?
The key is being grateful. I don't think I deserve this house I live in. I certainly haven't earned it. That leaves me grateful that I get to call it home. I'm grateful that my children have a safe and warm place to play and grow and dream. I'm grateful that I live in a place that is a community of neighbors and friends that help each other and care for each other.
It isn't earned or deserved or a basic human right. It just is, and that means it's my responsibility to be grateful and to pass that along in any way that I can. There are, in fact, very few things in life that I deserve. A short list at the top of my head reveals nothing. There also aren't a whole heck of a lot of things in life that I've earned, maybe aside from my stretch marks. I earned every single one of those suckers and I'm proud of them. This makes me an incredibly grateful person and one willing to work much harder to earn the things that I want and need.
There isn't a set list of things that are deserved. It depends on the person and the circumstances. Trying to establish what aspects of life are deserving for everyone leads to politics and rights, two words I have absolutely no faith in. It's internal. If you want something, you can choose to earn it. If you deserve something, you can choose to pursue it. If you find yourself in a position where you neither earned it nor deserve it, then you can choose to be grateful. It's up to you, no one else. It's your life and your choices. You get to live from them and learn from them.
Likewise, we don't get to decide what someone else deserves or has earned. This is called being judgmental. Stop it. I mean it. If you're already thinking about how you can apply this logic to things like homelessness or welfare, then I'm talking to you. Stop it. If you don't like the way things work, change it. Until then, shush.
Next time you're thinking about what you deserve, try replacing it with earn. For example: "I've had a tough day. I deserve some Starbucks." Instead, try "I've earned some Starbucks." Okay, as a coffee-fueled mother of three, that is actually the same thing. Bad example.
Replacing deserve with earned brings the power back to us. We've grown into a culture that continually throws up their hands in an "oh well" kind of gesture. There are things that just happen, and then there are things we make happen. We've discovered that it's far easier to just let things happen than to make them happen and become complacent with this. The problem is that we're expecting the same results from both scenarios.
Do you want something in life? How do you earn it?
Do you have something already? Do you deserve it?
Are you grateful?
Earn first, Deserve second, Grateful always.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've earned some much deserved coffee that I am grateful for.
{See what I did there...}
I also have words that I don't enjoy. The word panties bothers me. Yes, even in the heat of the moment, I'd prefer knickers. The word conscious, simply because I can never remember how to spell it and I get it confused with conscience. And of course, any over-used cliche meant to describe the male genitalia. Please, don't call it his "member." It doesn't wear a special jacket or belong to a bowling team. You can be more creative than that.
One of the words that makes me cringe the most: Deserve.
Deserve
Verb
1) to merit, be qualified for, or have a claim to (reward, assistance, punishment, etc.) because of actions, qualities, or situation
It's not the word itself that bothers me, but rather, how people use it. We tend to think that because of our qualities or situations, we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.
That might be one of my favorite words: Earn.
Earn
Verb
1) to gain or get in return for one's labor or service: to earn one's living.
2) to merit as compensation, as for service; deserve: to receive more than one has earned.
3) to acquire through merit: to earn a reputation for honesty.
4) to gain as due return or profit: Savings accounts earn interest.
5)
to bring about or cause deservedly: It's easy to understand why these two words are seen as interchangeable. Their definitions mirror each other and use the same wording. In the American Dream culture that we've created, we believe we deserve certain things, and therefore, don't need to earn them.
For example:
I earned the ability to go to college through hard work; getting good grades, writing a killer essay, and saving money to pay the tuition.
I deserve to go to college. I have the grades, I wrote my essay, and if my parents can't pay for it, there are student loans available.
I earned my position and promotion. I listened to my mentors and their feedback. I care about what I am doing and who is impacted. I've already proven that I am the right person for the position.
I deserve that promotion. I've put my time in and done everything that is asked. I need this promotion and the pay increase it comes with. Once I get the promotion, I'll prove that I am right for it.
I'm not going to lie, I used to be a Deserver. I was that person in both of the examples above. Raise your hand if you've ever been personally victimized by the American Dream. Now put that damn thing down and use it to get to work. You're missing the point.
And before we go too far, I want to specify that it is not just millennials (like myself) that have this attitude. We were taught this and we followed it because we saw that it worked. Like any successful disease, it's easily contagious. And no, again, I'm not blaming the past generation or this generation's fuck-up. We did it, continue to do it and we need to own that. Not all of us, maybe not even the majority of us. I don't think the next generation is doomed, either. In fact, I think they caught on and learned from our mistakes.
Honest hard work has gone the way of the virtue. We've slowly began replacing deserve with right, an incredibly terrifying movement that has already begun to divide us. I won't go into that difference, though. That's complicated and painful and full of politics and (for once) I'm not nearly cynical enough.
So now that we've found ourselves in this rut of earning and deserving, what do we do? How do we fix it? Do we want to fix it?
The key is being grateful. I don't think I deserve this house I live in. I certainly haven't earned it. That leaves me grateful that I get to call it home. I'm grateful that my children have a safe and warm place to play and grow and dream. I'm grateful that I live in a place that is a community of neighbors and friends that help each other and care for each other.
It isn't earned or deserved or a basic human right. It just is, and that means it's my responsibility to be grateful and to pass that along in any way that I can. There are, in fact, very few things in life that I deserve. A short list at the top of my head reveals nothing. There also aren't a whole heck of a lot of things in life that I've earned, maybe aside from my stretch marks. I earned every single one of those suckers and I'm proud of them. This makes me an incredibly grateful person and one willing to work much harder to earn the things that I want and need.
There isn't a set list of things that are deserved. It depends on the person and the circumstances. Trying to establish what aspects of life are deserving for everyone leads to politics and rights, two words I have absolutely no faith in. It's internal. If you want something, you can choose to earn it. If you deserve something, you can choose to pursue it. If you find yourself in a position where you neither earned it nor deserve it, then you can choose to be grateful. It's up to you, no one else. It's your life and your choices. You get to live from them and learn from them.
Likewise, we don't get to decide what someone else deserves or has earned. This is called being judgmental. Stop it. I mean it. If you're already thinking about how you can apply this logic to things like homelessness or welfare, then I'm talking to you. Stop it. If you don't like the way things work, change it. Until then, shush.
Next time you're thinking about what you deserve, try replacing it with earn. For example: "I've had a tough day. I deserve some Starbucks." Instead, try "I've earned some Starbucks." Okay, as a coffee-fueled mother of three, that is actually the same thing. Bad example.
Replacing deserve with earned brings the power back to us. We've grown into a culture that continually throws up their hands in an "oh well" kind of gesture. There are things that just happen, and then there are things we make happen. We've discovered that it's far easier to just let things happen than to make them happen and become complacent with this. The problem is that we're expecting the same results from both scenarios.
Do you want something in life? How do you earn it?
Do you have something already? Do you deserve it?
Are you grateful?
Earn first, Deserve second, Grateful always.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I've earned some much deserved coffee that I am grateful for.
{See what I did there...}
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Two Sizes Too Small
**Disclaimer: If you actually have some holiday spirit, you can skip this little rant. However, if you're looking for a laugh at my expense, then go ahead and keep reading. And no, you won't change my mind.**
If it weren't for the kids, I wouldn't even have a tree.
Honestly. Although I do love the smell of fresh cut pine. But still. You have to actually go buy it. So which one to you get? Long needles or short? Pro Tip: Doesn't matter. Both hurt when stabbed into your skin. Neither cleans up easily. Both will be found in the carpet for months to come, randomly stabbing into the tender arch of your foot, reminding you that even in February, next Christmas is only 10 months away. So you pick one. Just pick it, already, dammit. Pay for it, load it in the truck, unload it, shove it through the door, slice it open and let it thaw. And when it does, there's a big old bald spot that no amount of pretty lights or ornaments will hide, so you try your best to shove that one back in the corner.
And you have to get it in the stand. It's a two person job that requires exceptional communication skills. A good rule of thumb is to first establish who's left you'll be using so when your partner asks you to tilt it to the left, you don't actually plant that spiky sucker right in his face. Or maybe you do, just to add a little fun to this adventure. I won't tell.
After being poked and prodded and covered in pitch like some sort of medieval shaming ritual, now you have to decorate it. I don't know why. It's a perfectly good tree. Fine. Throw some lights on there. And I literally mean throw since you were so excited about Christmas being over last year that you didn't take the time to carefully wrap the lights and left your less-than-excited self a little mass of wire and lights that could hold the secrets to the universe if you were just willing to take a little patience and time. Nope. Not this year.
Now that it's standing and centered, you get to debate about the correct way to put the lights on the tree. Completely around and working your way up? Or completely around and working your way down? Or just on the front part that people will see, leaving the backside dark. Of course, you tried that last year and forgot that you put the tree up next to a mirror. Nice one, genius. Or, do you go completely against the grain and do lines going from top to bottom? Gah!
Anyway, the lights are on and you plug them in and - whoa - wait a minute - did they blink last year? Haven't we had these lights for like, the last 5 years? Did they always blink? Wait, let's watch and see if it's a pattern. Maybe there's a short, or maybe it's the socket. Oh, and only one strand blinks, which we can't have. First, we'll try to even out the blinking lights, but that never really works. Off they go. We won't use them anywhere else since we only have one strand. But, just to be safe, let's throw them back in the tote so we can go through this next year. Yeah, that's a grand idea.
Okay, lights are on. Although, we like white lights, so there's a strand of those. And the husband likes blue lights (really? Blue?), so there's a strand of those. And we need colored ones for the kids because kids. Whatever. No theme is a theme, right?
Time for tinsel. Which is ridiculous. As a mother of three, there are three things in this world that I despise: tinsel, fake grass for Easter baskets, and packing peanuts. That shit gets everywhere and always - ALWAYS - ends up getting eaten. Trust us. But I put it up anyway and send a silent apology to my very trusty and hardworking vacuum. It's not a good time of year for that thing.
Then the ornaments. The fragile, glass, sentiment-filled ornaments from your childhood. That the kids are now literally tossing everywhere, except onto the tree. Wait, this one is special, I want it to go here, but the branch is puny, so I'll put it here, only to watch it slip off the branch and crash to the floor. Don't worry. The pillow of pine needles already on the floor broke it's fall. Maybe we'll just put that one back in the box. Maybe we can just put all of them back in the box. Motion denied. Hand me another ornament.
Alright. All the ornaments are hung and the tree is full. We put the star on the top, remembering that we were going to buy a new star last year, but refuse to take the conversation any further again this year. Because we really don't care about the star on top of the tree. We stand back, as a family, oohing and aahing over how beautiful it is. And for one simple moment, we have a moment of peace. Maybe even, dare I saw, some Christmas spirit.
Then the baby reaches out and tries to eat an ornament and by the end of the night, every single ornament has been moved to the top half of the tree and the poor thing is threatening to topple over from the unequal weight distribution. Not that moving them helped, because they oldest is smart enough to grab a chair when Mom is busy making supper, and he's chosen this moment to put aside his distaste for his sisters and has taught them how to be accomplices.
Given their lack of restraint to constantly "fix" the tree, I'm not about to put wrapped boxes under the tree and leave them unattended for weeks. I've ordered them. Yes, I know I should shop local and support small business, but these places have things called "people" and despite the "holiday spirit," the only spirit I really want during Christmas shopping comes in liquid form and out of a bottle. They are hidden in the basement. The present, but the booze too. I'm not about to go dry right now. I've even wrapped them before the kids had a chance to find them. Again, the presents. Hopefully not the booze. Maybe I should go check...
When I say wrapped, I mean covered in some form. Loosely covered in some form. I did buy actual Christmas wrapping paper this year, although I was hoping the brightly colored floral Happy Birthday paper from last year would start a new trend. And gift bags. Lots and lots of gift bags. But no tissue paper. I forgot that. Just think of the newspaper stuffed in with your present as a little bonus reading material.
I won't be putting out any extra decorations. You can take your garland and keep it. In fact, when you drive by my house, you'll probably see a frozen rotten pumpkin instead of a wreath. If I'm feeling festive, maybe I'll paint it red and green. But I won't. So orange - and slightly gray - it is.
I won't listen to Christmas carols, unless you count Lady Gaga's Christmas Tree a carol.
You won't be seeing a Christmas card from us.
I'll have to be reminded to say Merry Christmas.
And on January 2, that tree is toast. And all that hard work we did by watering it every day to keep it alive will pay off, since we'll shove it out the door again into the frigid cold and it will survive and stay green for the next three months. But thanks for making me army crawl my cookie-stuffed ass under it every day. I'm counting that as yoga. Now pass me another cookie.
Yes, I'm a Scrooge. A bah-humbug loving Grinch. I won't try steal your Christmas spirit, and if this is your favorite time of year, by all means. Have at it. I won't judge.
I wasn't always this way, and I hope I won't stay this way. But for now, this year, I'm just not feeling it. I'll do my part. I'll give my kids awesome memories (sleeping under the tree is still a thing). I'll watch the movies. I'll get excited about Santa and reindeer and Frosty and hot cocoa and all that junk. I'll remind my kids what this season is about and being grateful and how important celebrating is. I'll keep all my negative Grinch ways to myself for their sake.
But this year? The year where everything offended everybody? Where we are treating others so poorly on silly things like nationality and religion and sexual preference and race? Where we continually kill and harm each other just to prove a point? Where money, no matter what kind of corrupt ass hat it comes from (ahem Mr. Trump), still has power to change opinion?
How do I teach my kids about the spirit of Christmas with all that crap in the world?
I'll smile and laugh when we decorate the tree. Even with the lights and tinsel, I'll smile. We'll watch the movies together and drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and I'll even listen to Christmas carols with them. I'll make sure they have amazing memories from Christmas and that my two sizes too small Grinch heart won't be a part of it.
Because I want them to have hope, a hope I might have lost. The world is out there, and I can still protect them from it, at least in most ways.
And maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll bring the hope back to me.
If it weren't for the kids, I wouldn't even have a tree.
Honestly. Although I do love the smell of fresh cut pine. But still. You have to actually go buy it. So which one to you get? Long needles or short? Pro Tip: Doesn't matter. Both hurt when stabbed into your skin. Neither cleans up easily. Both will be found in the carpet for months to come, randomly stabbing into the tender arch of your foot, reminding you that even in February, next Christmas is only 10 months away. So you pick one. Just pick it, already, dammit. Pay for it, load it in the truck, unload it, shove it through the door, slice it open and let it thaw. And when it does, there's a big old bald spot that no amount of pretty lights or ornaments will hide, so you try your best to shove that one back in the corner.
And you have to get it in the stand. It's a two person job that requires exceptional communication skills. A good rule of thumb is to first establish who's left you'll be using so when your partner asks you to tilt it to the left, you don't actually plant that spiky sucker right in his face. Or maybe you do, just to add a little fun to this adventure. I won't tell.
After being poked and prodded and covered in pitch like some sort of medieval shaming ritual, now you have to decorate it. I don't know why. It's a perfectly good tree. Fine. Throw some lights on there. And I literally mean throw since you were so excited about Christmas being over last year that you didn't take the time to carefully wrap the lights and left your less-than-excited self a little mass of wire and lights that could hold the secrets to the universe if you were just willing to take a little patience and time. Nope. Not this year.
Now that it's standing and centered, you get to debate about the correct way to put the lights on the tree. Completely around and working your way up? Or completely around and working your way down? Or just on the front part that people will see, leaving the backside dark. Of course, you tried that last year and forgot that you put the tree up next to a mirror. Nice one, genius. Or, do you go completely against the grain and do lines going from top to bottom? Gah!
Anyway, the lights are on and you plug them in and - whoa - wait a minute - did they blink last year? Haven't we had these lights for like, the last 5 years? Did they always blink? Wait, let's watch and see if it's a pattern. Maybe there's a short, or maybe it's the socket. Oh, and only one strand blinks, which we can't have. First, we'll try to even out the blinking lights, but that never really works. Off they go. We won't use them anywhere else since we only have one strand. But, just to be safe, let's throw them back in the tote so we can go through this next year. Yeah, that's a grand idea.
Okay, lights are on. Although, we like white lights, so there's a strand of those. And the husband likes blue lights (really? Blue?), so there's a strand of those. And we need colored ones for the kids because kids. Whatever. No theme is a theme, right?
Time for tinsel. Which is ridiculous. As a mother of three, there are three things in this world that I despise: tinsel, fake grass for Easter baskets, and packing peanuts. That shit gets everywhere and always - ALWAYS - ends up getting eaten. Trust us. But I put it up anyway and send a silent apology to my very trusty and hardworking vacuum. It's not a good time of year for that thing.
Then the ornaments. The fragile, glass, sentiment-filled ornaments from your childhood. That the kids are now literally tossing everywhere, except onto the tree. Wait, this one is special, I want it to go here, but the branch is puny, so I'll put it here, only to watch it slip off the branch and crash to the floor. Don't worry. The pillow of pine needles already on the floor broke it's fall. Maybe we'll just put that one back in the box. Maybe we can just put all of them back in the box. Motion denied. Hand me another ornament.
Alright. All the ornaments are hung and the tree is full. We put the star on the top, remembering that we were going to buy a new star last year, but refuse to take the conversation any further again this year. Because we really don't care about the star on top of the tree. We stand back, as a family, oohing and aahing over how beautiful it is. And for one simple moment, we have a moment of peace. Maybe even, dare I saw, some Christmas spirit.
Then the baby reaches out and tries to eat an ornament and by the end of the night, every single ornament has been moved to the top half of the tree and the poor thing is threatening to topple over from the unequal weight distribution. Not that moving them helped, because they oldest is smart enough to grab a chair when Mom is busy making supper, and he's chosen this moment to put aside his distaste for his sisters and has taught them how to be accomplices.
Given their lack of restraint to constantly "fix" the tree, I'm not about to put wrapped boxes under the tree and leave them unattended for weeks. I've ordered them. Yes, I know I should shop local and support small business, but these places have things called "people" and despite the "holiday spirit," the only spirit I really want during Christmas shopping comes in liquid form and out of a bottle. They are hidden in the basement. The present, but the booze too. I'm not about to go dry right now. I've even wrapped them before the kids had a chance to find them. Again, the presents. Hopefully not the booze. Maybe I should go check...
When I say wrapped, I mean covered in some form. Loosely covered in some form. I did buy actual Christmas wrapping paper this year, although I was hoping the brightly colored floral Happy Birthday paper from last year would start a new trend. And gift bags. Lots and lots of gift bags. But no tissue paper. I forgot that. Just think of the newspaper stuffed in with your present as a little bonus reading material.
I won't be putting out any extra decorations. You can take your garland and keep it. In fact, when you drive by my house, you'll probably see a frozen rotten pumpkin instead of a wreath. If I'm feeling festive, maybe I'll paint it red and green. But I won't. So orange - and slightly gray - it is.
I won't listen to Christmas carols, unless you count Lady Gaga's Christmas Tree a carol.
You won't be seeing a Christmas card from us.
I'll have to be reminded to say Merry Christmas.
And on January 2, that tree is toast. And all that hard work we did by watering it every day to keep it alive will pay off, since we'll shove it out the door again into the frigid cold and it will survive and stay green for the next three months. But thanks for making me army crawl my cookie-stuffed ass under it every day. I'm counting that as yoga. Now pass me another cookie.
Yes, I'm a Scrooge. A bah-humbug loving Grinch. I won't try steal your Christmas spirit, and if this is your favorite time of year, by all means. Have at it. I won't judge.
I wasn't always this way, and I hope I won't stay this way. But for now, this year, I'm just not feeling it. I'll do my part. I'll give my kids awesome memories (sleeping under the tree is still a thing). I'll watch the movies. I'll get excited about Santa and reindeer and Frosty and hot cocoa and all that junk. I'll remind my kids what this season is about and being grateful and how important celebrating is. I'll keep all my negative Grinch ways to myself for their sake.
But this year? The year where everything offended everybody? Where we are treating others so poorly on silly things like nationality and religion and sexual preference and race? Where we continually kill and harm each other just to prove a point? Where money, no matter what kind of corrupt ass hat it comes from (ahem Mr. Trump), still has power to change opinion?
How do I teach my kids about the spirit of Christmas with all that crap in the world?
I'll smile and laugh when we decorate the tree. Even with the lights and tinsel, I'll smile. We'll watch the movies together and drink hot cocoa and eat cookies and I'll even listen to Christmas carols with them. I'll make sure they have amazing memories from Christmas and that my two sizes too small Grinch heart won't be a part of it.
Because I want them to have hope, a hope I might have lost. The world is out there, and I can still protect them from it, at least in most ways.
And maybe, if I'm lucky, they'll bring the hope back to me.
Monday, November 2, 2015
No One's Business but Ours
I wasn't going to touch this one with a ten-foot pole. Honestly, I was very content just sitting back and watching the three ring circus of outrage that started. I had my opinions, of course, but I was fine with being a spectator.
I am talking about the confrontation that happened at Spring Valley High School in South Carolina. You know the one. A cop beat down on a kid. If you don't know what I'm talking about - forget I said anything. Turn off your phone or computer and continue on with your happy life. Get away while you still can.
Anyone that knows me knows there is a time limit to something like me holding in my own opinion. That time limit expired when I saw this:
Now, before going off on a tizzy (that's a little Northern Minnesota slang for keep your panties on...), let's just take a moment and attempt to start from the beginning.
I'm a little late picking up this story, and I try to get all my information from reputable news sources, even though these words together have now formed an oxymoron (p.s. - sorry CNN and Fox News, you're not included in this list). I also try to find the original source and follow the story from the beginning so I can form my own opinion. That wasn't really possible in this case since the media jumped on this like a stripper to the pole whose rent is due tomorrow. Within three short days, this story exploded into the true media spectacle we've come to know and loathe.
My initial reaction when seeing the video was what the fuck. Seriously. What the actual fuck. Even without knowing any context surrounding the situation, I believe the actions by the officer were extreme. Unless she was physically assaulting him (which can't be seen in the video but some sources claim the girl hit the officer first) and the officer feared for his life, I don't believe this kind of force is acceptable.
So why did it happen? What events led up to this and what choices were made? The video itself doesn't show anything leading up to the confrontation, so only those in the classroom know what really happened and those stories are conflicting one another.
On a side rant, I would like to stress that this happened in a classroom. This is an educational setting, where children are supposed to be taught not only academics, but how to become responsible adults that contribute to society in positive ways. And no, this isn't the sole responsibility of the school as parents should be the main influences, but when the child spends a majority of their time during the week at school, there is a responsibility of said school to do right by their students. School should be a safe haven and it's not anymore. I was 15 when Columbine happened and I realized that the terrors of the outside world could reach me. We're so concerned with gun control and mass shootings and protecting our kids, but this video shows that we allow violence into our schools in other ways. Side rant over, for now...
So what happened? According to sources, the girl was asked to put away her cell phone in class. It's unclear whether she refused to do this or if she just didn't do it in a timely manner, but she was subsequently asked to leave the classroom. When the teacher couldn't get the student to comply, the vice principle was asked to assist. The girl still refused to leave the classroom because she deemed the punishment as unfair. This was when the officer entered the picture and things got even more out of control.
Ugh, where to start. From the very beginning, this is just a jumbled mess of bad choices and decisions from all parties involved. Let's start with the obvious but the most overlooked participant in this conflict, the teacher.
The Teacher: My first question is, if this all started with a stupid cell phone, why couldn't the teacher handle it? Isn't that part of their job? To discipline students and be able to command a classroom? They're kids. You're an adult. What is the problem? Also, it's a cell phone. I know it was probably disruptive, but for who? The students or the teacher? If she refused to put it away, there are other ways to handle it. Let the entire class know that any time a cell phone is seen or heard within the class room, there is an automatic pop quiz worth 10% of the grade. These kids are old enough to make their own choices and face the consequences. If they choose to play on their cell phones instead of pay attention, the consequence will be that they don't pass the class. The teacher could have talked to the student after class, without the pressure from her peers surrounding her, and given her an extra assignment. The next day, let the rest of the students know that anyone seen with a cell phone will be given the same assignment. Put a basket up at the front of the room for students to turn in their cell phones during class. Think, teacher, think! You own that one little square room in the this world and have the power to influence people every day. Don't waste that!
With all of this, how did the vice principle become involved? Did the teacher not have enough backbone to enforce the rules of the classroom? Or did they just not want to deal with it and needed a different adult to do her job? This teacher is being suspiciously quiet. The issue started between her and the student and I don't believe the teacher handled it well, at least from the way the story is being told.
The Vice Principal: I don't ever remember the vice principle of my high school coming into a classroom to discipline a student. I remember students going into his office. Hell, I even found myself in his office a few times (worth it, every time). I would see him in the hallway and the cafeteria, keeping a watchful eye, but never once in a classroom in this regard.
Not only was the vice principal called in for backup, but he also wasn't able to control the student. Let's just take a moment to let that sink in. The vice principal couldn't control a student enough to get her to leave the classroom like her teacher requested. Instead, he had to call in more backup in the form of a cop.
The Cop: I don't know what words were exchanged between the girl and the cop. Again, the video doesn't show any of that. What I do know is that, following in the tradition of the teacher and vice principal, the cop didn't handle the situation correct, either.
If she wouldn't listen and the teacher or the vice principal or the officer, how were they supposed to get her out of the room? Probably not by dragging her forcefully from her desk. The cop looks pretty big. I like to think that my 5'3" and 120 pound frame can handle itself pretty well, but put me up against a tall, muscular and trained person and I will lose. Not without a fight, but I will lose. Judging by the way he was able to lift the desk with her when he tried to yank her out of it, I bet he could have easily picked up the desk with her in it and carried it out into the hallway. I'm not saying that's the right action, but it is clearly a better alternative to what happened.
Do I think he assaulted her? Yes. Do I think it was uncalled for? Yes. Do I think she deserved it? No.
The Student: The girl, whose name is Shakara, is 18. By law, she can vote, buy cigarettes and join the armed forces. But she is a child. Her actions, lack of respect for all of the adults involved, her fellow students, as well as her actions after the fact, have deemed her a child in my mind. She had the power, just as much as the teacher, to stop this incident before it escalated.
First, she shouldn't have had her cell phone in the classroom. Keep it in the locker. I might be from a different generation, but I never had my cell phone on me in class. I did have a notebook, textbooks and pens so I could learn. That's why I was there. {Side Note: I was also a bit of a nerd. I own that now. Nerds rule.}
Second, she should have listened to the teacher. All she had to do was listen. Listen. Such a lost art. Open your ears. Keep your mouth shut. Open your mind. Listen.
She decided against this obvious action because she thought the punishment was unfair. Guess what? She doesn't get to decide that. If she believed that she wasn't doing anything wrong, then she takes it up with the vice principal and other school authorities in a respectful manner. Demanding respect with your arms crossed over your chest and pouting will not get others to listen to you. I've tried it. It backfires. Every time.
Again, I don't think she deserved the ultimate outcome of being forcefully dragged out of the classroom. However, she had multiple opportunities to change the course of events and ignored them. In this situation, I find her to be just as guilty as the teacher and vice principal.
This is a teachable moment. Clearly, this girl needed some guidance. Just because she's 18 doesn't mean she's free from being taught how to act like a decent human being. That's a lesson that can always be taught, as long as others are willing to teach it (I'm pointing my big fact accusing finger at you, teacher and vice principal and officer).
The cop was fired and got a lawyer. The student got a lawyer. The school district got a lawyer. Every one got lawyers and began screaming at each other from behind them, flinging accusations and playing the blame game. No one is taking any responsibility or sitting down and having a fucking conversation.
The student is facing misdemeanor charges for "disturbing schools" that comes with a $1000 fine and up to 90 days in jail. Yes. A student could go to jail for disturbing school. Honest to Jesus. Again, what the actual fuck. Not only did the teacher fail, the vice principal fail, the officer epically failed, but now the justice and court systems are also failing. What are we teaching this child? That she did wrong and here's why and these are the consequences so don't do it again? Nope. We're teaching her - and her peers - not to trust authority. We're teaching them that if they piss off the wrong person, even in school, they'll end up in jail. We're telling them they aren't worthy of our time, our respect, our involvement. If they aren't good enough, we toss them away and lock them up and label them a criminal.
What thoroughly aggravates me about this entire situation, even more than the worthless actions of all the adults involved and the complete lack of responsibility, is that no one did anything while it was happening. In watching the video, the teacher, the vice principal, and all the students just sit and watch as this child is pulled from her desk and dragged out of the room. The adults didn't step in and do anything. The Superintendent quoted "Student safety is and always will be the district’s top priority [...] The district will not tolerate any actions that jeopardize the safety of our students.” Yet here were two adults employed by the district, standing by and watching as a student was assaulted and did nothing. That doesn't sound like top priority to me and I would not be trusting this school district with the safety of my babies.
The students also did nothing. This, I can understand to an extent. If you look at them, most aren't even looking at the confrontation. They have their heads turned. Even the student sitting behind the girl, whose desk was moved when it knocked into his, doesn't watch what happens. My instinct tells me that this is out of fear. Either that, or they are used to this kind of spectacle in school and it simply isn't worth their attention anymore. Both scenarios are frightening.
No one did a thing. I don't care what the circumstances are. If you see someone being treated in a way they shouldn't be, whether it's by a person of authority or not, you step in and say something. You help. End of story. No one did that. That is what pisses me off the most about this entire situation.
This thirty second video details every way we are failing our youth as a nation. Again, the girl is not innocent. She is just as guilty as the rest of us. Yes, she's a kid, but she's been taught to behave this way. She's learned this either from home or school or the media or somewhere or everywhere. The actions of everyone else involved, including the justice system and the media, has only confirmed the bad behaviors that she has been taught.
We are losing, folks. We are losing and this is why. We've lost our damned minds.
Normally, this is the part of the post that would have the call to action. We can fix this! Let's do something! Not this time. I'm just one person, spouting off an opinion. To fix this, we need more than one, but that's not going to happen when everyone is the enemy. Anger is the only emotion we're really capable of listening to now and if this incident tells us anything, it's that our anger is justified, which it isn't.
Alright. I'm done. So. Done. I'm going to crawl back into my happy little Midwestern life, slip on my rose colored hippie goggles and read a good book.
Oh, and take out that ten-foot pole again...
I am talking about the confrontation that happened at Spring Valley High School in South Carolina. You know the one. A cop beat down on a kid. If you don't know what I'm talking about - forget I said anything. Turn off your phone or computer and continue on with your happy life. Get away while you still can.
Anyone that knows me knows there is a time limit to something like me holding in my own opinion. That time limit expired when I saw this:
Now, before going off on a tizzy (that's a little Northern Minnesota slang for keep your panties on...), let's just take a moment and attempt to start from the beginning.
I'm a little late picking up this story, and I try to get all my information from reputable news sources, even though these words together have now formed an oxymoron (p.s. - sorry CNN and Fox News, you're not included in this list). I also try to find the original source and follow the story from the beginning so I can form my own opinion. That wasn't really possible in this case since the media jumped on this like a stripper to the pole whose rent is due tomorrow. Within three short days, this story exploded into the true media spectacle we've come to know and loathe.
My initial reaction when seeing the video was what the fuck. Seriously. What the actual fuck. Even without knowing any context surrounding the situation, I believe the actions by the officer were extreme. Unless she was physically assaulting him (which can't be seen in the video but some sources claim the girl hit the officer first) and the officer feared for his life, I don't believe this kind of force is acceptable.
So why did it happen? What events led up to this and what choices were made? The video itself doesn't show anything leading up to the confrontation, so only those in the classroom know what really happened and those stories are conflicting one another.
On a side rant, I would like to stress that this happened in a classroom. This is an educational setting, where children are supposed to be taught not only academics, but how to become responsible adults that contribute to society in positive ways. And no, this isn't the sole responsibility of the school as parents should be the main influences, but when the child spends a majority of their time during the week at school, there is a responsibility of said school to do right by their students. School should be a safe haven and it's not anymore. I was 15 when Columbine happened and I realized that the terrors of the outside world could reach me. We're so concerned with gun control and mass shootings and protecting our kids, but this video shows that we allow violence into our schools in other ways. Side rant over, for now...
So what happened? According to sources, the girl was asked to put away her cell phone in class. It's unclear whether she refused to do this or if she just didn't do it in a timely manner, but she was subsequently asked to leave the classroom. When the teacher couldn't get the student to comply, the vice principle was asked to assist. The girl still refused to leave the classroom because she deemed the punishment as unfair. This was when the officer entered the picture and things got even more out of control.
Ugh, where to start. From the very beginning, this is just a jumbled mess of bad choices and decisions from all parties involved. Let's start with the obvious but the most overlooked participant in this conflict, the teacher.
The Teacher: My first question is, if this all started with a stupid cell phone, why couldn't the teacher handle it? Isn't that part of their job? To discipline students and be able to command a classroom? They're kids. You're an adult. What is the problem? Also, it's a cell phone. I know it was probably disruptive, but for who? The students or the teacher? If she refused to put it away, there are other ways to handle it. Let the entire class know that any time a cell phone is seen or heard within the class room, there is an automatic pop quiz worth 10% of the grade. These kids are old enough to make their own choices and face the consequences. If they choose to play on their cell phones instead of pay attention, the consequence will be that they don't pass the class. The teacher could have talked to the student after class, without the pressure from her peers surrounding her, and given her an extra assignment. The next day, let the rest of the students know that anyone seen with a cell phone will be given the same assignment. Put a basket up at the front of the room for students to turn in their cell phones during class. Think, teacher, think! You own that one little square room in the this world and have the power to influence people every day. Don't waste that!
With all of this, how did the vice principle become involved? Did the teacher not have enough backbone to enforce the rules of the classroom? Or did they just not want to deal with it and needed a different adult to do her job? This teacher is being suspiciously quiet. The issue started between her and the student and I don't believe the teacher handled it well, at least from the way the story is being told.
The Vice Principal: I don't ever remember the vice principle of my high school coming into a classroom to discipline a student. I remember students going into his office. Hell, I even found myself in his office a few times (worth it, every time). I would see him in the hallway and the cafeteria, keeping a watchful eye, but never once in a classroom in this regard.
Not only was the vice principal called in for backup, but he also wasn't able to control the student. Let's just take a moment to let that sink in. The vice principal couldn't control a student enough to get her to leave the classroom like her teacher requested. Instead, he had to call in more backup in the form of a cop.
The Cop: I don't know what words were exchanged between the girl and the cop. Again, the video doesn't show any of that. What I do know is that, following in the tradition of the teacher and vice principal, the cop didn't handle the situation correct, either.
If she wouldn't listen and the teacher or the vice principal or the officer, how were they supposed to get her out of the room? Probably not by dragging her forcefully from her desk. The cop looks pretty big. I like to think that my 5'3" and 120 pound frame can handle itself pretty well, but put me up against a tall, muscular and trained person and I will lose. Not without a fight, but I will lose. Judging by the way he was able to lift the desk with her when he tried to yank her out of it, I bet he could have easily picked up the desk with her in it and carried it out into the hallway. I'm not saying that's the right action, but it is clearly a better alternative to what happened.
Do I think he assaulted her? Yes. Do I think it was uncalled for? Yes. Do I think she deserved it? No.
The Student: The girl, whose name is Shakara, is 18. By law, she can vote, buy cigarettes and join the armed forces. But she is a child. Her actions, lack of respect for all of the adults involved, her fellow students, as well as her actions after the fact, have deemed her a child in my mind. She had the power, just as much as the teacher, to stop this incident before it escalated.
First, she shouldn't have had her cell phone in the classroom. Keep it in the locker. I might be from a different generation, but I never had my cell phone on me in class. I did have a notebook, textbooks and pens so I could learn. That's why I was there. {Side Note: I was also a bit of a nerd. I own that now. Nerds rule.}
Second, she should have listened to the teacher. All she had to do was listen. Listen. Such a lost art. Open your ears. Keep your mouth shut. Open your mind. Listen.
She decided against this obvious action because she thought the punishment was unfair. Guess what? She doesn't get to decide that. If she believed that she wasn't doing anything wrong, then she takes it up with the vice principal and other school authorities in a respectful manner. Demanding respect with your arms crossed over your chest and pouting will not get others to listen to you. I've tried it. It backfires. Every time.
Again, I don't think she deserved the ultimate outcome of being forcefully dragged out of the classroom. However, she had multiple opportunities to change the course of events and ignored them. In this situation, I find her to be just as guilty as the teacher and vice principal.
This is a teachable moment. Clearly, this girl needed some guidance. Just because she's 18 doesn't mean she's free from being taught how to act like a decent human being. That's a lesson that can always be taught, as long as others are willing to teach it (I'm pointing my big fact accusing finger at you, teacher and vice principal and officer).
The cop was fired and got a lawyer. The student got a lawyer. The school district got a lawyer. Every one got lawyers and began screaming at each other from behind them, flinging accusations and playing the blame game. No one is taking any responsibility or sitting down and having a fucking conversation.
The student is facing misdemeanor charges for "disturbing schools" that comes with a $1000 fine and up to 90 days in jail. Yes. A student could go to jail for disturbing school. Honest to Jesus. Again, what the actual fuck. Not only did the teacher fail, the vice principal fail, the officer epically failed, but now the justice and court systems are also failing. What are we teaching this child? That she did wrong and here's why and these are the consequences so don't do it again? Nope. We're teaching her - and her peers - not to trust authority. We're teaching them that if they piss off the wrong person, even in school, they'll end up in jail. We're telling them they aren't worthy of our time, our respect, our involvement. If they aren't good enough, we toss them away and lock them up and label them a criminal.
What thoroughly aggravates me about this entire situation, even more than the worthless actions of all the adults involved and the complete lack of responsibility, is that no one did anything while it was happening. In watching the video, the teacher, the vice principal, and all the students just sit and watch as this child is pulled from her desk and dragged out of the room. The adults didn't step in and do anything. The Superintendent quoted "Student safety is and always will be the district’s top priority [...] The district will not tolerate any actions that jeopardize the safety of our students.” Yet here were two adults employed by the district, standing by and watching as a student was assaulted and did nothing. That doesn't sound like top priority to me and I would not be trusting this school district with the safety of my babies.
The students also did nothing. This, I can understand to an extent. If you look at them, most aren't even looking at the confrontation. They have their heads turned. Even the student sitting behind the girl, whose desk was moved when it knocked into his, doesn't watch what happens. My instinct tells me that this is out of fear. Either that, or they are used to this kind of spectacle in school and it simply isn't worth their attention anymore. Both scenarios are frightening.
No one did a thing. I don't care what the circumstances are. If you see someone being treated in a way they shouldn't be, whether it's by a person of authority or not, you step in and say something. You help. End of story. No one did that. That is what pisses me off the most about this entire situation.
This thirty second video details every way we are failing our youth as a nation. Again, the girl is not innocent. She is just as guilty as the rest of us. Yes, she's a kid, but she's been taught to behave this way. She's learned this either from home or school or the media or somewhere or everywhere. The actions of everyone else involved, including the justice system and the media, has only confirmed the bad behaviors that she has been taught.
We are losing, folks. We are losing and this is why. We've lost our damned minds.
Normally, this is the part of the post that would have the call to action. We can fix this! Let's do something! Not this time. I'm just one person, spouting off an opinion. To fix this, we need more than one, but that's not going to happen when everyone is the enemy. Anger is the only emotion we're really capable of listening to now and if this incident tells us anything, it's that our anger is justified, which it isn't.
Alright. I'm done. So. Done. I'm going to crawl back into my happy little Midwestern life, slip on my rose colored hippie goggles and read a good book.
Oh, and take out that ten-foot pole again...
Monday, October 26, 2015
Santa and the Second Mortgage
Ah, Christmas. It's only two months away people. Can you feel the anxiety starting? Have you started saving? Already scoping out Christmas gifts and worrying if you'll have to take out a second mortgage?
I mean, are you super excited to be spending time with family and friends and celebrating the joys of the season?
There is a viral Facebook post that has been circulation for a few years now. regarding modesty with Christmas gifts. I saw it again the other day and it caught my attention. Here it is:
"Just a reminder to all you parents out there to be modest with your gifts from "Santa". Not all parents have a ton of cash to spend on making their kids Christmas special, so it doesn't make sense to have Santa give your kids a PlayStation4, a bike, and an iPad, while his best friend at school gets a new hat and mittens from Santa. You know? Give something small from Santa and make the more expensive presents from you. You can explain the value of money to kids, but you can't explain Santa's discrimination to a heartbroken kid. Keep that in mind this year and always..."
Ugh. I have so many thoughts on this I just had to sit and stew for a few days. I believe the intention in this is good. The mark is completely missed, however, and here's why.
First, don't remind me to be modest with gifts from Santa. Modesty is subjective, and if how much I spend on gifts really bothers someone, that is their problem and not mine. Frankly, it's no one's business what is or isn't spent on gifts. If you want to judge another parent for giving their kid an "expensive" electronic, just remember that you're the one doing the judging.
The amount of cash dropped on Christmas does not directly correlate to how special Christmas is. Therefore, it does make sense to give your child whatever gift you deem appropriate because the highlight of Christmas shouldn't be the gifts. You know?
If my child goes to school with his new toy and sees that his best friend got a hat and mittens and then proceeds to judge said friend, I'm failing as a parent. Here's the thing about kids: they're kids. They don't automatically know this stuff. We teach it to them. We teach them to judge each other based on material possessions. We teach them the monetary value of things and to think differently about people that have less expensive items. Santa doesn't do that. We do.
How exactly is giving the expensive presents from the parents and not from Santa making a difference? When my children get to a certain age, they will know that "Santa" is really not a person and then I'll have to explain to them that I didn't want them to feel bad for the neighbor kids so I gave him expensive presents anyway... wait... let me try that again. I didn't want them to think Santa was a discriminating asshat so I took his place... hold on... I think I can get it this time... The gifts were too nice to be from Santa so I wanted all the credit... wait... that's not right either...
Stating that Santa discriminates against kids based on the gifts he hands out is the coward's way out. Again, one day, the kids will know that Santa was actually mom and dad. If my child comes home and is upset because Jimmy got something really cool from Santa and all he got was this lousy gift, I would first take away that lousy gift and preach a little about being thankful. Then I would teach my son the dangers of comparing himself to others.
I also explain the value of money to my children, just not at Christmas. There are far better times to teach this valuable lesson. For example, when we're at the grocery store and he wants the name brand cereal but the store brand cereal is an entire $2.50 cheaper. That's a great time to explain the value of money. I don't want to put a price tag on their gifts because then they learn to think in terms of money and equate happiness to a price.
Instead, I'd like to take that time to teach my children how to be grateful and thankful for what they have. I'd like to teach them how to value their possessions, not because it was an expensive gift from Santa, but because it was a gift that was purchased with his happiness in mind. It was given to him because someone else was thinking of him. The cool thing about that lesson is that it applies to both iPads and underwear. I want my children to be thankful for the action figure toy they wanted as much as for the hat and gloves they needed.
When my children think of Christmas, I don't want their entire holiday hinging on what Santa will bring. Yes, that's part of the fun and yes, they should be excited. But when they're older and think of Christmas, I don't want them to remember it in the form of "that was the year I got this." I want them to remember the smell of Gram's house, sledding down the hill, hearing the sounds of family and friends laughing and having a great time together. I want them to remember Christmas, not gifts.
I get the intention of this post, I really do. However, I think it's things like this that is creating a generation of people that are offended by everything. Why should I be offended or upset or have any feelings at all towards what other people have? I shouldn't, and neither should our kids.
I mean, are you super excited to be spending time with family and friends and celebrating the joys of the season?
There is a viral Facebook post that has been circulation for a few years now. regarding modesty with Christmas gifts. I saw it again the other day and it caught my attention. Here it is:
"Just a reminder to all you parents out there to be modest with your gifts from "Santa". Not all parents have a ton of cash to spend on making their kids Christmas special, so it doesn't make sense to have Santa give your kids a PlayStation4, a bike, and an iPad, while his best friend at school gets a new hat and mittens from Santa. You know? Give something small from Santa and make the more expensive presents from you. You can explain the value of money to kids, but you can't explain Santa's discrimination to a heartbroken kid. Keep that in mind this year and always..."
Ugh. I have so many thoughts on this I just had to sit and stew for a few days. I believe the intention in this is good. The mark is completely missed, however, and here's why.
First, don't remind me to be modest with gifts from Santa. Modesty is subjective, and if how much I spend on gifts really bothers someone, that is their problem and not mine. Frankly, it's no one's business what is or isn't spent on gifts. If you want to judge another parent for giving their kid an "expensive" electronic, just remember that you're the one doing the judging.
The amount of cash dropped on Christmas does not directly correlate to how special Christmas is. Therefore, it does make sense to give your child whatever gift you deem appropriate because the highlight of Christmas shouldn't be the gifts. You know?
If my child goes to school with his new toy and sees that his best friend got a hat and mittens and then proceeds to judge said friend, I'm failing as a parent. Here's the thing about kids: they're kids. They don't automatically know this stuff. We teach it to them. We teach them to judge each other based on material possessions. We teach them the monetary value of things and to think differently about people that have less expensive items. Santa doesn't do that. We do.
How exactly is giving the expensive presents from the parents and not from Santa making a difference? When my children get to a certain age, they will know that "Santa" is really not a person and then I'll have to explain to them that I didn't want them to feel bad for the neighbor kids so I gave him expensive presents anyway... wait... let me try that again. I didn't want them to think Santa was a discriminating asshat so I took his place... hold on... I think I can get it this time... The gifts were too nice to be from Santa so I wanted all the credit... wait... that's not right either...
Stating that Santa discriminates against kids based on the gifts he hands out is the coward's way out. Again, one day, the kids will know that Santa was actually mom and dad. If my child comes home and is upset because Jimmy got something really cool from Santa and all he got was this lousy gift, I would first take away that lousy gift and preach a little about being thankful. Then I would teach my son the dangers of comparing himself to others.
I also explain the value of money to my children, just not at Christmas. There are far better times to teach this valuable lesson. For example, when we're at the grocery store and he wants the name brand cereal but the store brand cereal is an entire $2.50 cheaper. That's a great time to explain the value of money. I don't want to put a price tag on their gifts because then they learn to think in terms of money and equate happiness to a price.
Instead, I'd like to take that time to teach my children how to be grateful and thankful for what they have. I'd like to teach them how to value their possessions, not because it was an expensive gift from Santa, but because it was a gift that was purchased with his happiness in mind. It was given to him because someone else was thinking of him. The cool thing about that lesson is that it applies to both iPads and underwear. I want my children to be thankful for the action figure toy they wanted as much as for the hat and gloves they needed.
When my children think of Christmas, I don't want their entire holiday hinging on what Santa will bring. Yes, that's part of the fun and yes, they should be excited. But when they're older and think of Christmas, I don't want them to remember it in the form of "that was the year I got this." I want them to remember the smell of Gram's house, sledding down the hill, hearing the sounds of family and friends laughing and having a great time together. I want them to remember Christmas, not gifts.
I get the intention of this post, I really do. However, I think it's things like this that is creating a generation of people that are offended by everything. Why should I be offended or upset or have any feelings at all towards what other people have? I shouldn't, and neither should our kids.
Friday, October 16, 2015
This Little Light of Mine
Yesterday, October 15, was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. My Facebook feed was filled with friends and family lighting candles for the babies they no longer get to hold and sharing their stories. It warmed my heart to see that so many are now willing to talk about this and that as a community, we are no longer ashamed.
Except me. I stood in my kitchen, looking at my candle, and I couldn't light it.
I couldn't bring myself to bring flame to the wick and remember the two babies I carried that never made it. Even writing this now, I'm feeling a little panicky.
I'm trying to figure out why. I will gladly share the details of my stories. Everything, from when I found out I was pregnant to the aftermath of losing the child. I've shared my one experience many times and you can read it here. I thought it was common knowledge until I was speaking with my mother one day and she was shocked to find out that I'd had two miscarriages.
I slowly began to realize that I don't really talk about it. Not that I want to. Not that I need to. But I simply don't.
It's the same reason I was staring at that candle last night, unable to light it. If I lit the candle and stood alone there in the dark with just a single flame, I'd be right back where I was when it happened. Alone. In the dark.
I can tell you all the details and facts of what happened when I lost my babies. But I'll never tell you of the emotional pain that still lingers. I've made my peace with what happened. I know it wasn't meant to be. I have three beautiful and healthy babies now and if the others had survived, I wouldn't have that. I know this. I know it wasn't my fault. I know it couldn't have been prevented. I know that it happens, much more often than we care to realize.
I knew all the facts and they gave me comfort. What I didn't know was that it would tear me apart from the inside out. I didn't know that after my body healed, my mind and soul would still be scarred. What I didn't know was that they always would be.
In true strong woman fashion, I tried to ignore this. I worked straight through my first miscarriage, not wanting to share that detail with any of my coworkers. I tried to go back to work the next day after my second miscarriage, but my body wouldn't let me. My mind needed something to focus on but it wasn't physically possible.
I was sent home with words of sympathy and hugs and looks of pity that were extremely well intended, but that I hated just the same. I didn't need pity or sympathy. This shit happens. Just let me move on.
And I won't tell you how after I went home to rest my physical condition, my mental condition started to deteriorate. I won't tell you how I locked the bedroom door, turned off my phone and laid in the dark for a week and cried.
I won't tell you because the pity on your face won't change it. The hugs won't make me feel better. It's something that I had to endure even though I fought it every second. It's something I have to live with, always burning the back of my brain.
So no. I can't light my candle yet. One day, hopefully, just not today. The last thing I want is to be left alone in the dark with my thoughts again.
Ask me if I've lost babies, and I'll boldly tell you about them. I'll share the details of when and how and what it was like. But I won't tell you all of it.
I'm sharing this because I know there are other people out there who couldn't light their candle, either. I'm speaking, not as someone who has been through it and made it, but as someone who is going through it still.
And while I feel like I suffered through it alone and that I always will, I know that I have an incredibly strong support system in my family and friends. They know me and how I deal with things and they always seem to offer the right kind of comfort, even when I think I don't need it. That has been what has gotten me through, knowing that other people have felt what I have, even if it's something that can't be described in words.
One day, I'll be able to light my candle. I'll be able to sit in the dark and not let the bad thoughts win. I'll be able to cry and walk away feeling lighter instead of heavier. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next year. Maybe someday.
One day, their little lights will shine.
Except me. I stood in my kitchen, looking at my candle, and I couldn't light it.
I couldn't bring myself to bring flame to the wick and remember the two babies I carried that never made it. Even writing this now, I'm feeling a little panicky.
I'm trying to figure out why. I will gladly share the details of my stories. Everything, from when I found out I was pregnant to the aftermath of losing the child. I've shared my one experience many times and you can read it here. I thought it was common knowledge until I was speaking with my mother one day and she was shocked to find out that I'd had two miscarriages.
I slowly began to realize that I don't really talk about it. Not that I want to. Not that I need to. But I simply don't.
It's the same reason I was staring at that candle last night, unable to light it. If I lit the candle and stood alone there in the dark with just a single flame, I'd be right back where I was when it happened. Alone. In the dark.
I can tell you all the details and facts of what happened when I lost my babies. But I'll never tell you of the emotional pain that still lingers. I've made my peace with what happened. I know it wasn't meant to be. I have three beautiful and healthy babies now and if the others had survived, I wouldn't have that. I know this. I know it wasn't my fault. I know it couldn't have been prevented. I know that it happens, much more often than we care to realize.
I knew all the facts and they gave me comfort. What I didn't know was that it would tear me apart from the inside out. I didn't know that after my body healed, my mind and soul would still be scarred. What I didn't know was that they always would be.
In true strong woman fashion, I tried to ignore this. I worked straight through my first miscarriage, not wanting to share that detail with any of my coworkers. I tried to go back to work the next day after my second miscarriage, but my body wouldn't let me. My mind needed something to focus on but it wasn't physically possible.
I was sent home with words of sympathy and hugs and looks of pity that were extremely well intended, but that I hated just the same. I didn't need pity or sympathy. This shit happens. Just let me move on.
And I won't tell you how after I went home to rest my physical condition, my mental condition started to deteriorate. I won't tell you how I locked the bedroom door, turned off my phone and laid in the dark for a week and cried.
I won't tell you because the pity on your face won't change it. The hugs won't make me feel better. It's something that I had to endure even though I fought it every second. It's something I have to live with, always burning the back of my brain.
So no. I can't light my candle yet. One day, hopefully, just not today. The last thing I want is to be left alone in the dark with my thoughts again.
Ask me if I've lost babies, and I'll boldly tell you about them. I'll share the details of when and how and what it was like. But I won't tell you all of it.
I'm sharing this because I know there are other people out there who couldn't light their candle, either. I'm speaking, not as someone who has been through it and made it, but as someone who is going through it still.
And while I feel like I suffered through it alone and that I always will, I know that I have an incredibly strong support system in my family and friends. They know me and how I deal with things and they always seem to offer the right kind of comfort, even when I think I don't need it. That has been what has gotten me through, knowing that other people have felt what I have, even if it's something that can't be described in words.
One day, I'll be able to light my candle. I'll be able to sit in the dark and not let the bad thoughts win. I'll be able to cry and walk away feeling lighter instead of heavier. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe next year. Maybe someday.
One day, their little lights will shine.
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
The Good Wife
Hi folks. After almost a month long hiatus, I am happy to say that I am back. What was the reason for my hiatus? There wasn't one. I just wasn't writing. It happens.
Apparently my absence was noticed since a dear friend of mine sent me an article and not so subtly hinted at a blog post. It's comforting to know my opinion is wanted, or at least that she needs a little entertainment. Either way, I'm a giver, and my views on this article surprised even me, so here it is.
The article in question contains marriage advice. I'm not an expert in this field. My training merely consists of my own 7-year marriage. I've always been an excellent student, however, and I've learned a few things.
None of this, by the way, do I apply to my own life. I'm a masochist like that. Still, people ask me for marriage advice. The fact that I refuse to administer my own advice to my own relationship hasn't stopped people from listening and applying it to their own.
Last week, Michelle Duggar used her blog to answer a question from a fan. Us Weekly got their eyes on it and wrote their own article (you can read it here.). After reading the title of the article and seeing as how it's about the country's most fertile mama, you're probably rolling your eyes. At least another Duggar controversy would avert our attention from the debacle that is politics.
Well, I read the article and then I read the actual blog post. The Us Weekly sums it up pretty well, but it's always best to check the source directly. And I was a little surprised.
I agree with Michelle Duggar. I know. My feminist, bra-burning, equality-seeking hippie brain is spinning too.
It's good advice. No, seriously. It's good. The only caveat is Mrs. Duggar's life dream of being called "Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar." Being a wife shouldn't be anyone's life goal, but I'm going to let that slide on the account of the sisterhood and having an open mind. Who am I to judge another woman's dream? Moving on...
My favorite quote (and no, I can't believe I'm saying it that way, either) is:
"Anyone can iron Jim Bob’s shirt, anybody can make lunch for him. He can get his lunch somewhere else. But you are the only one who can meet that special need that he has in his life for intimacy. You’re it. You’re the only one."
She goes on to advise to be completely available to your husband, regardless of your own physical or mental state, because no one else in the world can meet that need.
I get it, and it's (gulp) even a little romantic. Wow, I'm feeling out of my element here. Romance and marriage advice. What have I become?
When I first read that part, I was all in gushy and gooey-eyed agreement, until I came to the "be available" and "joyfully available" and the "yes, sweetie, I'm here for you" parts.
Wait. One minute. That does not sound like fun to me. If I'm going to give myself completely, I would like at least a little something in return. I'm not a sex slave. I'm not there just for some man's pleasure. What's in it for me?
Yes, that might sound selfish. Turns out... I'm selfish.
Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar, as she prefers to be called, went on to explain that in return for always being "joyfully available" for her husband, what she gets in return is complete emotional support. She says he would "lay down his life" for her.
Let's just all take a moment to let our ovaries let out a collective sigh.
She goes on to describe how each partner has different needs in a marriage and that it's important to be a wife first and a mother later. Like I said, I'm no relationship expert, but that shit is golden. Legit gold.
Understanding the fundamental differences between men and women is essential in any relationship. Men are physical creatures. They like sex. Women are emotional creatures. They like feelings. Most of the time, after men get their physical needs met, they are much more willing to give the emotion. It's the opposite for women. We need the emotion first before we're willing to take our clothes off. It's easy to see how a stalemate can develop.
This isn't true word for word for every relationship, however. For the man, it might not always be about sex and it might not always be about emotion for the woman. The point is, however, that everyone in a relationship has different needs. Each person brings different pros and cons to the relationship and the key is to find someone that balances those cons and is willing to put up with them, all while not taking advantage of your pros.
Damn, love is hard. And it's not for everyone. Even following this algorithm, commitment and marriage and monogamy isn't for everyone. Before you can be honest with what you want in a relationship with another person, you have to be honest with what you can give to someone else and what you want in return. Then you need to have the balls to be honest with that other person. If they want something you can't give, or if they don't give what you need, it won't work. We are not altruistic creatures. If we give, we expect, and a majority of the time, we expect first without giving. It's a balance.
I also don't want to give the impression that if you do this from the very beginning, life with your partner will be cherry. This is where death by complacency comes in. People change. Their needs and wants change. What they are able to give can change. Finding someone who is willing to adapt with you is precious.
That's where Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar's second piece of advice comes in. She uses her own terms for it, but I call it keeping other people out of your relationship. Your relationship is private. It's between you and that other person. If you're mad at your partner, tell them. Don't cry to your best friend. Yes, your best friend will always provide that shoulder to cry on and you will feel better after a quart of ice cream and bottle of wine, but the problem won't be solved. The problem isn't between you and your friend, it's between you and your partner, and if you don't let your partner know there is a problem, it can't be fixed.
The same goes for when things are great. Share that with your partner. If you have a fantastic day, your partner should be the first person you want to share it with. On the other side, they should share in your happiness and celebrate it with you. When you hear something, think something, feel something, you should be able to share that with the one person that is supposed to be there. If you can't, or won't, it's not real.
When you stop communicating, you start living separate lives. And what's the point of being in a relationship if you are living a separate life?
Praise publicly, correct privately. Those are her words, and they're amazing. Your partner is supposed to stand with you as a united front against the world, someone who is not only willing but proud to be next to you. Likewise, you need to be that for your partner. Remember: balance.
Her third piece of advice is also a great one. Get help when you need it, and get it from an unbiased, impartial third party. Yes, your best friend knows you inside and out but she doesn't know your relationship through your eyes. The key is not to do this when problems start to arise. Too often, people save couples counseling for when there is a problem. At this point, it might already be too late. Feelings are already hurt. Lives are already separating. Scars are already forming that won't necessarily heal. Don't check your bank account when you're card gets declined and don't check your relationship when you start becoming unhappy. Keep tabs on that shit, all the time. Check yourself before your wreck yourself. Insert your own metaphor here.
So there. That's my love advice. I just want to add the disclaimer that I am a 100% hypocrite because it's taken me 7 years of marriage and 12 years of a relationship to figure this out. It's kind of like deciding to climb over the entire mountain instead of taking the tunnel through it because I'm afraid of the dark. I guess it's true that those who can't do, teach instead.
And that's it. Don't worry. I'm done with all this goopy stuff now. Next time: gun control.
Apparently my absence was noticed since a dear friend of mine sent me an article and not so subtly hinted at a blog post. It's comforting to know my opinion is wanted, or at least that she needs a little entertainment. Either way, I'm a giver, and my views on this article surprised even me, so here it is.
The article in question contains marriage advice. I'm not an expert in this field. My training merely consists of my own 7-year marriage. I've always been an excellent student, however, and I've learned a few things.
None of this, by the way, do I apply to my own life. I'm a masochist like that. Still, people ask me for marriage advice. The fact that I refuse to administer my own advice to my own relationship hasn't stopped people from listening and applying it to their own.
Last week, Michelle Duggar used her blog to answer a question from a fan. Us Weekly got their eyes on it and wrote their own article (you can read it here.). After reading the title of the article and seeing as how it's about the country's most fertile mama, you're probably rolling your eyes. At least another Duggar controversy would avert our attention from the debacle that is politics.
Well, I read the article and then I read the actual blog post. The Us Weekly sums it up pretty well, but it's always best to check the source directly. And I was a little surprised.
I agree with Michelle Duggar. I know. My feminist, bra-burning, equality-seeking hippie brain is spinning too.
It's good advice. No, seriously. It's good. The only caveat is Mrs. Duggar's life dream of being called "Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar." Being a wife shouldn't be anyone's life goal, but I'm going to let that slide on the account of the sisterhood and having an open mind. Who am I to judge another woman's dream? Moving on...
My favorite quote (and no, I can't believe I'm saying it that way, either) is:
"Anyone can iron Jim Bob’s shirt, anybody can make lunch for him. He can get his lunch somewhere else. But you are the only one who can meet that special need that he has in his life for intimacy. You’re it. You’re the only one."
She goes on to advise to be completely available to your husband, regardless of your own physical or mental state, because no one else in the world can meet that need.
I get it, and it's (gulp) even a little romantic. Wow, I'm feeling out of my element here. Romance and marriage advice. What have I become?
When I first read that part, I was all in gushy and gooey-eyed agreement, until I came to the "be available" and "joyfully available" and the "yes, sweetie, I'm here for you" parts.
Wait. One minute. That does not sound like fun to me. If I'm going to give myself completely, I would like at least a little something in return. I'm not a sex slave. I'm not there just for some man's pleasure. What's in it for me?
Yes, that might sound selfish. Turns out... I'm selfish.
Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar, as she prefers to be called, went on to explain that in return for always being "joyfully available" for her husband, what she gets in return is complete emotional support. She says he would "lay down his life" for her.
Let's just all take a moment to let our ovaries let out a collective sigh.
She goes on to describe how each partner has different needs in a marriage and that it's important to be a wife first and a mother later. Like I said, I'm no relationship expert, but that shit is golden. Legit gold.
Understanding the fundamental differences between men and women is essential in any relationship. Men are physical creatures. They like sex. Women are emotional creatures. They like feelings. Most of the time, after men get their physical needs met, they are much more willing to give the emotion. It's the opposite for women. We need the emotion first before we're willing to take our clothes off. It's easy to see how a stalemate can develop.
This isn't true word for word for every relationship, however. For the man, it might not always be about sex and it might not always be about emotion for the woman. The point is, however, that everyone in a relationship has different needs. Each person brings different pros and cons to the relationship and the key is to find someone that balances those cons and is willing to put up with them, all while not taking advantage of your pros.
Damn, love is hard. And it's not for everyone. Even following this algorithm, commitment and marriage and monogamy isn't for everyone. Before you can be honest with what you want in a relationship with another person, you have to be honest with what you can give to someone else and what you want in return. Then you need to have the balls to be honest with that other person. If they want something you can't give, or if they don't give what you need, it won't work. We are not altruistic creatures. If we give, we expect, and a majority of the time, we expect first without giving. It's a balance.
I also don't want to give the impression that if you do this from the very beginning, life with your partner will be cherry. This is where death by complacency comes in. People change. Their needs and wants change. What they are able to give can change. Finding someone who is willing to adapt with you is precious.
That's where Mrs. Jim Bob Duggar's second piece of advice comes in. She uses her own terms for it, but I call it keeping other people out of your relationship. Your relationship is private. It's between you and that other person. If you're mad at your partner, tell them. Don't cry to your best friend. Yes, your best friend will always provide that shoulder to cry on and you will feel better after a quart of ice cream and bottle of wine, but the problem won't be solved. The problem isn't between you and your friend, it's between you and your partner, and if you don't let your partner know there is a problem, it can't be fixed.
The same goes for when things are great. Share that with your partner. If you have a fantastic day, your partner should be the first person you want to share it with. On the other side, they should share in your happiness and celebrate it with you. When you hear something, think something, feel something, you should be able to share that with the one person that is supposed to be there. If you can't, or won't, it's not real.
When you stop communicating, you start living separate lives. And what's the point of being in a relationship if you are living a separate life?
Praise publicly, correct privately. Those are her words, and they're amazing. Your partner is supposed to stand with you as a united front against the world, someone who is not only willing but proud to be next to you. Likewise, you need to be that for your partner. Remember: balance.
Her third piece of advice is also a great one. Get help when you need it, and get it from an unbiased, impartial third party. Yes, your best friend knows you inside and out but she doesn't know your relationship through your eyes. The key is not to do this when problems start to arise. Too often, people save couples counseling for when there is a problem. At this point, it might already be too late. Feelings are already hurt. Lives are already separating. Scars are already forming that won't necessarily heal. Don't check your bank account when you're card gets declined and don't check your relationship when you start becoming unhappy. Keep tabs on that shit, all the time. Check yourself before your wreck yourself. Insert your own metaphor here.
So there. That's my love advice. I just want to add the disclaimer that I am a 100% hypocrite because it's taken me 7 years of marriage and 12 years of a relationship to figure this out. It's kind of like deciding to climb over the entire mountain instead of taking the tunnel through it because I'm afraid of the dark. I guess it's true that those who can't do, teach instead.
And that's it. Don't worry. I'm done with all this goopy stuff now. Next time: gun control.
Tuesday, September 22, 2015
In Response...
I received this comment on my post "Will the Real Single Parents Please Stand Up":
"Your relationship status has no bearing on your
ability to raise a person."
Really?
There is a far higher poverty rate for families headed by a single parent than two-parent households. Kids in a single-parent household don't do as well in school (and they drop out of school at a far higher rate). A child in a single-parent household is far more likely than the child in a two-parent household to abuse substances and to end up in prison. The list of social pathologies associated with single-parent households is long and well-established.
To compare a TYPICAL single-parent household with a TYPICAL two-parent household and to conclude that parenting in both types of households is the same is to not understand the differences between the two types of households.
Really?
There is a far higher poverty rate for families headed by a single parent than two-parent households. Kids in a single-parent household don't do as well in school (and they drop out of school at a far higher rate). A child in a single-parent household is far more likely than the child in a two-parent household to abuse substances and to end up in prison. The list of social pathologies associated with single-parent households is long and well-established.
To compare a TYPICAL single-parent household with a TYPICAL two-parent household and to conclude that parenting in both types of households is the same is to not understand the differences between the two types of households.
In Response:
Yes. Really. A person’s relationship status has
no bearing on their ability to raise a person.
I know what the statistics are. I am one. I was raised by a
single parent. Yes, I was poor. Technically, I still am poor, since I don’t
have a “real” job and spend my time raising my children. However, I’ll let my
mother know that the good grades I earned in school were a fluke since I never
should have finished in the first place. I’ll also let her know to look forward
to me becoming a drug addict and ending up in prison. From what is listed above, that
will just be the beginning.
My best friend is also a single mother. She is above the
poverty line. After becoming pregnant in college, she finished her degree, earned
a job to support her and her child and has even purchased her own vehicles and
house. In all things considered, she’s doing just as well if not better than us
and our two parent household.
With these facts being so well established, who can argue?
Me. I realize that these examples are exceptions to the rules and not
TYPICAL. I also realize that the difference between a single parent household
and a two parent household is simply one person.
There are several other factors that impact a person’s
income level (geographical, education level, unemployment rate). I have to ask,
were these single parent households below the poverty line before the child was
born? From what has been stated, it appears that the birth of the child is what
instantaneously caused the income level to drop.
Of the kids that don’t do well in school and drop out, is
there a geographical connection? What are the teacher to student ratio of the
schools they attend? What types of extra-curricular programs are offered?
I’d like to ask the same questions when referring to those
that partake in substance abuse and end up in prison. Of these statistics, I
mean children, what is their community like? What is the crime rate?
The statements made above imply that the poverty rate,
school performance and substance abuse are linked together. Is this true? If I
find a child of a single parent, will that child fill all of the requirement,
meaning they are below the poverty line, not performing well in school, have
dabbled in drugs and will someday be in prison? Or is the only thing these
children have in common that they only have one parent to raise them?
The problem I have with studies and statistics when it comes
to social pathologies is that they are malleable. They are numbers, ones that
when combined and paired with generalized statements can easily be turned into
false truths. Numbers can be calculated to produce desired results. The
statements made above, if appearing in a scholarly journal, would imply that
the problem is the parent, since that is the only link given. The result of
this is that people read it, believe it, hold it to their hearts as truth and
use it to judge others, further enforcing a ridiculous social caste system. Somehow, the single parent has now become a second class citizen.
But what do I know. I’m just the product of a single parent
household. I really should get back to snorting my coke and working on my dead
lifts in the prison yard. Oh, wait. I mean reading with my first grader and
bringing my daughters to the park. Oh, and to teach them to ask questions and
think for themselves, since that is so evidently becoming a lost art form. The
hidden message is that the only purpose of children of single parents is to
repeat the cycle, thus further degrading our highly prized social standards.
The author of the original article in question wasn’t
detailing the fear she has that her child will grow up to be a drug addict or
the stereotype she faces daily with being a single parent. She was lamenting
about how hard it is to raise a child on her own. I agree, it’s hard to parent, but no harder for her than it is for me. End of
story.
Despite what society would like us to believe, I stand by my
words and believe that a relationship status has no bearing on their ability to
raise a person.
{Note: I would just like to clarify that I do appreciate the comment listed above, as well as all other comments. I don't expect people to agree with me and in no way did I view the comment above as disrespectful or hurtful. My reply is also not about being "right." It's about opening our minds and having discussions. This comment made me think and feel and that makes it wonderful and why I chose to respond.}
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