tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1090157375238038492023-11-16T04:01:06.379-08:00My Secret IdentityCocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-27569767131968949282015-01-15T22:09:00.001-08:002015-01-15T22:09:44.300-08:00If you haven't been in a public school lately - please just don't say anything about them. If you haven't spent more than a day in a public school lately - you don't know what you are talking about. Having a child attend one might give you a little credit, but until you have worked or volunteered for a couple of weeks, you really have no idea what is going on in our schools today.<br />
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Prior to a recent levy vote I was informed that the school is not allowed to tell voters exactly why they need money. That might sway their voted. Well duh! So the voters were never told that without the levy money the school was going to loose 10 teachers. That is one teacher per grade level. So where are those kids going to go? Into the other teachers classes of course! That is 30 kids that will now be divided into 3 other classes of 30 - which puts each class at or near 40 kids! With those same cuts there is no room for any aids to assist those teachers either. But we can't tell the voters this. <br />
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On top of this lack of funding, there is the current public opinion on schools and teachers. Things like, 'our schools already waste tax dollars,' and 'teachers are paid plenty considering all the time off they get!' 'Teachers need to quit complaining and asking for more money, they have no idea what it's like to work a regular schedule.'<br />
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Well, here are some thoughts from a mom turned special education assistant who has spent the last 12 years as an active parent in multiple schools and an employee for the last 5. To start with, my plan was to return to school and get my own teaching certificate once my youngest was in school. About three years ago I realized you couldn't pay me enough to become a teacher!<br />
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Today's teachers start each year off with 25-30 new faces. They are given limited information about each of them and charged with finding out where they sit academically, and which ones need help because of their home life. At least one child in each class will qualify as special needs and need to have their schedule altered so that they can get the necessary help from special ed. At least one or two other kids will be medicated for anything from depression to ADHD. There is likely a homeless child (or several depending on where the school is), a child who isn't getting enough to eat and may not have the supplies they need, and another one or two who's parents the teacher will never be able to reach. In a typical kindergarten class there will be kids who don't know what a letter is and kids reading at a 2nd grade level or higher. Every single child will have to be evaluated within the first month of school to see where they sit academically. This is to be done during the school day and by the classroom teacher - not a volunteer, and will take roughly 1/2 a day per child. While the teacher is testing each child the rest of the class is left to fend for themselves. So if there were 28 kids in a class that would be 14 days in the first month of school that the teacher is not able to give quality instruction! Once all of the evaluation is finished, a plan has to be made to get each child to where they need to be in order to pass state tests in the spring.<br />
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Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-21810805400749945812011-11-14T18:33:00.001-08:002011-11-14T18:33:33.980-08:00Dang this is going to be hard!Yesterday was our 5th Family Day. We don't make a big deal of it around here but I did take the kids out for some frozen yogurt and we watched the video I made. At bedtime though, I was hit with a ton of bricks. Paige looked up at me and asked, "Mommy, when will I get to meet my birth parents?" I was so caught off guard and so used to her asking questions but not really listening for the answer that I just answered without thinking. "Oh, Honey you probably won't ever meet your birth parents because we don't know who they are. But we will try to meet your foster parents when we go to China in a few years." There. That was upbeat, simple, and straight forward enough. Typically she would have rolled over and asked if she could have candy after lunch the next day or some other completely obscure thing. Not this time. This time she burst into tears and questioned "Why? Why can't I meet them Mommy? I thought I was going to get to meet them when we went to China." All I could think was, "Oh crap! What did I just do?!" So I held her and tried to explain [i]carefully[/i] why we don't know who they are. She sobbed those gut-wtenching sobs that we never heard five years ago. It had suddenly hit her and there was nothing I could do to fx it. I'm not beating myself up over it because it was going to happen sooner or later, but I did feel awful for her. Her little heart was broken and all I could do was hold her and keep my mouth shut. I couldn't say, "it will be all right," "it's over now, so let's let it go," or, "you're ok now because we adopted you!" HA! What a crock of crap all of that is. The reality is, she was abandoned by or taken from her birth family 5 and a half years ago and nothing I will ever say or do can change that for her. She knows she is loved now but I know that this is only the beginning of a very long road for her. A road of discovery and deciding who she is. She asked, after she calmed down again, if someday she could go to China to live and see if she liked it there. I smiled and told her she could do what ever she chose to do!Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-75298927717828733452011-08-31T08:45:00.000-07:002011-08-31T09:07:44.102-07:00The Magic of a DiagnosisAlmost ten years. I've struggled, pressed, and insisted for some help. About a year ago now I finally reached a point of no return and flat out asked for medication. If there was to be no diagnosis let there at least be a means of peace in our home. You read and hear how over medicated our kids are today so it isn't a decision made lightly. There was almost nothing that I read that indicated medication was a good thing. And yet. There comes a point where you have to ignore what "everyone" is saying and trust your instinct. So after nearly a year of trial and error with four different medications we have finally settled on one that appears to be helping. In April I reached my lowest point when the new doctor we'd had recommended couldn't get us in for over three months. I literally fell apart. This was to be at least the sixth doctor we had consulted in nine years and I was beyond desperate. I knew though that a wait that long must indicate a popular and therefore, hopefully, very good doctor. <div>
<br /></div><div>Then July finally arrived. I had my guard way up before the first appointment. There were about three or four things I wanted him to say or I wouldn't even consider taking Caden. Imagine my relief when we not only liked the doctor but he hit on all of our concerns before we ever had a chance to mention them! The following week was Caden's turn and it couldn't have gone any better. Caden walked out with a huge grin on his face and proclaimed he couldn't wait to go back! How many kids can't wait for their counseling appointments?! To top it off, we were finally given a diagnosis. Just having that weight lifted, being told by a professional and seeing it on paper was such a relief. As I've said before, I knew I wasn't crazy. I knew something was not right. And I knew that if I kept pushing I'd eventually get answers. We got them from a wonderful doctor who is on staff at local universities as well as a highly regarded children's hospital. His credentials are amazing. More importantly though, he is just a really nice guy who makes you feel like he really cares. Caden loves him. So, we now have names for the struggles we've had for years. We now know what is causing what and have goals to be working toward. We have medication to help. The absolute best part though is that for the first time ever, we have a really happy little boy! I can't even begin to tell you how it feels as a mom to know that your child is finally able to have a carefree childhood. To know that he isn't angry, hurting or struggling but just living the life a child should live.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>So, today, life is good. We've had a good couple of months in fact! I just pray that this is the beginning of a whole new life for one great kid!</div>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-79057300533292122902010-11-28T22:10:00.000-08:002010-11-28T22:26:13.833-08:00When God tugs at your heartThere are times in your life when you know God is tugging. Times when you feel like maybe your imagining it and times when you have no doubt. But, what about those times you hear His call but have no idea how to answer it? What if someone else must be in agreement for it to happen - and they aren't. Or if there are other seemingly insurmountable obstacles? Then what? I just don't know.<div>What I don't understand is why? Why is that same little face still there? Why am I so drawn to it? I wish I knew God's plan. For him. For us.</div>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-32018685161879128342010-11-28T21:57:00.000-08:002010-11-28T22:10:28.212-08:00Life can be such torture sometimesJust when I thought we had it all figured out! So, maybe he is gifted. He definitely sees things a bit differently! Unfortunately the new school wasn't the answer I dreamt of. So, a few weeks ago we made the big jump to medication. I think the doctor was a little surprised at how quickly I jumped at the idea; but after 9 years I am completely out of ideas. And maybe hope. The medication was an absolute miracle for the first few days and ever since the dosage just isn't right. It is such torture to feel so close then have the rug yanked out from beneath you. Someday. Oh someday, I pray we have an answer.Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-40181321263970669552010-04-13T22:18:00.000-07:002010-04-16T09:39:02.699-07:00Answers? Answers! Answers?I knew I wasn't crazy. I really knew it. Somewhere deep, really deep, inside I knew I wasn't crazy. There had to be an answer. All my years of experience had to have amounted to something. Not to mention a mother's intuition. I've learned to trust that intuition over the years and I don't think it has failed me yet. But what happens when you can't get anyone else to trust it? What happens when the doctors tell you you're parenting wrong, the therapists say they "just don't see it", and the teachers declare, "he's an angel"? What happens then? The feeling of being alone was persistent. There was hardly a day that went by when I didn't try to analyze and figure out what I might be missing. I probed the internet, the library and everyone I could get to talk to me! As we trudged from appointment to appointment year after year I prayed fervently that <i>this </i>would be the answer we were seeking. Perhaps <i>this</i> would be the beginning of the end. Therapy, surgery and books could not alleviate my fears though. They could not "fix" my child. Did he need fixing? Or did I? Why couldn't I find the answer? It had to be out there, but where? So I talked and I read and I researched and I talked some more. To anyone who would listen. Then one day, I talked to the right person.<div><br /></div><div>It was certainly not an encounter that I expected much from. I was never even introduced to the woman but I knew who she was. As our hurried conversation wrapped up she rattled off a couple of web sites she thought I should look up. I was able to remember only one of them but I was immediately struck by the name of it alone. The name suggested the complete opposite of everything we'd ever thought about this kid. And yet, as I mulled it over there were some signs over the years too. Seemingly isolated events that when looked at together made me wonder - could she be right? What had I said that led her to that conclusion so quickly?</div><div><br /></div><div>As soon as I was able to I searched the web site. Maybe I should say I devoured the web site - absorbing every detail I could. I was very skeptical that this would "fit" let alone be so simple. What I read did not tell me how to fix things or make my child easy-going. Nothing I read suggested he ever would be either. And yet I was comforted. Comforted by the fact that I was not alone. By the fact that maybe we had an answer! My own pre-conceived ideas had to be corrected considerably though as I realized this was not something as wonderful as most people think it is. So many assumptions are made regarding these kids and that isn't something likely to change. I could not expect understanding from those who hadn't walked this path. In fact, it would be best if I didn't even mention it to others - at least not to suggest it as a problem in any way. I don't have a problem with keeping it quiet though. After all these years it doesn't matter anymore - just having an answer is all that matters to me. (Which is why this will be the only post you'll probably ever see directly addressing this.)</div><div><br /></div><div>Unknowingly this child had been given a test that would help us to know if this indeed was what we were dealing with. We only had to wait about a month to find out. After eight years, another month didn't seem to matter - especially since there is no "cure." Well about two weeks ago our answer arrived in the mail. I saw the envelope in the stack of mail and quickly opened it first. Scanning the first paragraph, I found what I was looking for but hadn't fully decided if I wanted to see. "The team recommends that your child be placed in the Aspire Program." There it was, simple as that. There was no hundred pound weight lifted from my shoulders, no immediate gratification. I simply sat there with butterflies in my stomach wondering how this could be and not letting myself get my hopes up too high even yet.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've spent the last two weeks wondering how we could have missed this and simultaneously reading and learning how. I'm not alone. I'm not crazy. And maybe most importantly - neither is my child. Each step we take now will be carefully measured. The school will have a much bigger responsibility as will I in making sure they are doing all that they can for him. If he is able to attend the recommended class in the Fall it will not be an easy transition for him. And yet as Rick and I sat in a room packed with the parents of other kids who were recommended to this program and listened to the descriptions of these kids - we knew we wouldn't be alone. </div><div><br /></div><div>Gifted. Seriously. Our child is gifted and we have a lot to learn.</div>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-41956112723294189682010-04-09T09:22:00.001-07:002010-04-09T15:22:47.058-07:00The "Good" Mom<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKU4UP-1TPpTxBxT0xAD_LHreem6LCfaVkciuPcFHubaSkKM6drjWyMdISsjnou_9R0mZQFj2T1YIvvkMrIXDuQfCP6SSte1Azjn9G3gi6b572ZLj0LYd-oBGcp1SngEFXXKXVObOg_IC/s1600/P1050663-2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 321px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvKU4UP-1TPpTxBxT0xAD_LHreem6LCfaVkciuPcFHubaSkKM6drjWyMdISsjnou_9R0mZQFj2T1YIvvkMrIXDuQfCP6SSte1Azjn9G3gi6b572ZLj0LYd-oBGcp1SngEFXXKXVObOg_IC/s400/P1050663-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458266666903463330" /></a><br />"You're such a good mom."<div><br /></div><div>Really? Hm. Thanks. </div><div><br /></div><div>What is a good mom? What makes other people say that? Is it something that is said just to be nice or does it really mean something? What about if it is said about you when you aren't around? Or if it is said by multiple people?</div><div><br /></div><div>I'll be honest, I don't think I'm a good mom. Pretty good, maybe, but<i> "good"</i>? I just don't know. As I've watched other people parent over the years though I've come to think there are really very few truly "good" moms out there. Sad but true. Volunteering in my kids classrooms has driven that home more than anything else ever has. There are kids who's parents <i>never</i> take the papers out of their backpacks/notebooks and moms who don't ever show up for their kids events (or send a substitute). Apparently taking our kids to neat places is unusual. You know, OMSI, camping, the coastal lighthouses or old Army forts, and even just down to a creek to throw rocks. There are parents who don't do those things with their kids! So what do they do? I'm not sure. Most of our outings are simply out of desperation. I can't handle the arguing or just sitting around the house so we head out to do something. So, because we do it to alleviate my own sense of desperation I don't think of it as a "good" mom thing to do. Doesn't a "good" mom do those things because she loves spending time with her kids? Doesn't a "good" mom just plain love doing those things? I don't like playing with my kids much either. Oooo - that probably wasn't a very smart thing to say. But really, I just don't have a clue how to play Army guys or race cars. I can occasionally handle playdough. I usually spend any time playing with my kids thinking of all the things I could be getting done. It's boring, ok, there, I've said it. Now I probably qualify as a "bad" mom. </div><div><br /></div><div>Don't get me wrong, I do love being with and doing things with my kids. But I don't live for it and there are certainly other things I enjoy doing. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess what it comes down to, in my oh-so-humble opinion, is how much you are willing to give up for your kids. Having kids is a choice and to me making that choice is also making the choice to forgo your own interests until they are grown. I don't just mean once in a while or most of the time. It is all the time. I don't care if you<i> feel</i> like it, you don't get that option anymore. If money is tight and everyone needs a haircut - the kids get it and your hair just keeps growing. The same pair of tennis shoes for three years? Yep, and the kids get new ones every three to six months. Too tired to drag kids to the grocery store? Too bad, take a deep breath, suck it up and find a way to get through it! It's an everyday, all the time thing. There are a few dinners that I LOVE but haven't had in years because my kids won't eat it. That doesn't mean I cook only for them either though! It is just less important for me to get what I want now.</div><div><br /></div><div>I know there are those who will argue that you can't give up yourself for your kids. It's not healthy, the kids need to see you working and going out. They shouldn't always come first and you should still have a life. Honestly - that's a bunch of crap. All I hear in that is selfishness. "I need to work to maintain my sanity, or keep up my license, or interact with other adults." "They love to go to daycare and play with all their friends." "We go out every week and the kids love their babysitter." I just don't think so. That's all crap. Your kids should know that nothing else comes before them (other than God or your spouse). You are setting the example for how they will parent your grandchildren! If you <i>need</i> to work so badly then you shouldn't have had children. Seriously.</div><div><br /></div><div>So what makes a good mom? Feeding them healthy food? Having them on a schedule? Putting them to bed by 8:00. Reading to them? Oh, the list could go on and on. Maybe you have to have a certain number of those things before you qualify? Of course it is all a bit subjective too. There are those who will argue that feeding your children organic foods is the only responsible thing to do or that co-sleeping is best. I'm really not sure though. When people tell you you are a "good" mom, to what are they referring? In what way? I just feel like I could be so much better. There is more I could give up and more I should be doing. My computer time or t.v. time would be much better spent fixing healthier meals, drilling kids with flashcards or playing. Loving your kids isn't enough to make you a good mom. Let's face it, there are plenty of women who love their kids but are terrible moms. </div><div><br /></div><div>I guess I'd like to know what exactly it is that I do that might make someone say that I am a good mom. Do they wish they could parent more like I do? Do they just think I'm a really nice mom (boy they wouldn't have seen me at my finest then!). Or is there something in particular I do that makes them say that? I don't suppose I'll ever know. One thing I do know though is that I've only ever met a couple of truly "good" moms myself. </div><div><br /></div><div>And don't even get me started on being a good wife!</div>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-69401678456616039822009-08-26T11:12:00.000-07:002009-08-26T11:23:16.512-07:00So how do you buy a house?Do you buy it because you like it, your spouse likes it, your family likes it. Or do you look at <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">floor plan</span>, resale and location. Maybe a little of everything? What if you love the house but the location stinks? Maybe the other way around. We tend to think a lot about resale based on our past history! But what if we are planning to stay for the long haul this time? Is resale as important? I wish I knew.<br />We've made offers on two houses. One isn't going to happen which is <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">ok</span>. The other we don't know, the realtor won't return our realtor's calls - that's not looking good. So on a whim yesterday we went by one we had briefly looked at before. It is an older house with a lot of charm. I love older houses especially the fact that their floor plans aren't cookie cutter like modern houses. This one has been pretty well updated but does still need all new windows and since it has been empty for a long time it needs a LOT of yard work. It also has 200 feet of creek frontage and almost an acre and a half. Sounds wonderful? It is located on a really busy road. And just over the border for the schools we want. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Ok</span>, schools could probably be worked out, maybe even <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">busing</span>. But the busy road? If it were even a mile further down the road I probably wouldn't be concerned.<br />so how important is location if you like the house and don't plan to move for many years? It isn't like we're talking freeway busy or even city street. But a pretty busy country road that leads to the entrance of the local four year university almost across the street. Opinions? I'm interested in them.Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-66677823133349101152009-07-21T23:01:00.000-07:002009-07-21T23:47:24.003-07:00Growing old gracefully?Well, I'm getting older. I'm not sure when that reality hit the hardest - when my firstborn had his tenth birthday, the second time I bought alcohol and didn't get carded (even though I had it in my hand and ready!), or when that darned scale refused to go down anymore! It seems like lately though the signs are appearing more and more often. My heart literally sunk a bit when the clerk handed me my <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">receipt</span> without asking for my id. I discretely tucked it back in my wallet hoping that no one had seen! Such a strange feeling. I clearly remember being told that someday I'd appreciate being told how young or cute I was. I think the sun is beginning to rise on that day. No one will ever mistake me for an eighteen year old again! Not too long ago I saw a picture of myself and a more recent one confirmed what I'd hoped had just been my imagination - I've got wrinkles! Not major ones, but I am starting to look well, old. I'd smugly noticed it in a picture of a friend not too long ago (who shall remain nameless!) and now there it was staring back at me!<br /><br />This morning I lay in the doctor's office waiting for that oh-so-exciting annual appointment all women must endure. I was <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">acutely</span> aware of my feelings at the moment and thinking about the many times I'd been on those tables waiting to hear my baby's heartbeat, or have my growing belly measured (I'm certainly grateful they aren't measuring that belly anymore!). The happiness of those days seems so long past sometimes. Yet, I also realized that I don't <em>feel </em>any different than I did then. I don't <em>feel</em> ten years older. I dawned on me that if I were to be having a baby now I would be considered high risk due to my age and the baby would have the increased odds of various birth defects. But I don't feel <em>ten</em> years older!<br /><br />Life is changing. The gray hair is growing faster than the colored and Sally Beauty Supply is becoming a regular stop on my shopping rounds. The scale will never again allow me to wear a size 6 (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span> probably not even an 8 and I'm afraid 10 could be not too far off!). The medications in the cupboard are beginning to stack up. It's strange. I don't feel old. I'm really not <em>old</em>. But I have realized that teenagers no longer look at me as someone they can relate to - to them, I'm old.<br /><br />So, when I asked the doctor about my recent weight gain I'm not sure what exactly I was feeling as she circled my age and told me that that was the reason. Was she giving me permission to gain weight? Was she saying kiss that old body goodbye? I think I heard something more like, "It's <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">ok</span>. Quit stressing about it." Sounds so simple. But how do I let it go and accept that without also accepting what it means? I'm getting older. Things change. No wonder they call it mid life, you're neither young or old! There are a lot of thoughts going through my mind and none of them are easy to get down. It is just strange. Not sad, not scary, just strange. I'm waiting for these feelings to fade and for this to become the new normal. I <em>am</em> afraid <em>that</em> may never happen though. I'm not sure we ever feel as old as we are! Life is changing isn't it.Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-21120083024795084602009-07-16T12:21:00.000-07:002009-07-16T12:54:53.888-07:00X marks the spotWhat is it about house hunting? I know exactly what I want but it doesn't exist! That happens to me at the fabric store a lot too but that's another post! Anyway, we have spent the last two weeks looking at or planning to look at houses in our area. My first and biggest concern was to keep Trace at his current school. He has already moved schools 4 times and he is just going into 5<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">th</span> grade. I want him to have some lasting friends and to fit in and I worry that constantly moving him will destroy his chances at that. So we have limited our search to only our school boundaries. We have good taste apparently. This seems to be one of the most expensive and stable areas around which means there is nothing we can afford. So this week we expanded our search to within 5 miles of our school and figured we could try for a boundary exception and I'd just take the boys to school. I did it for three years when Trace was in private school so I can do it again. Unfortunately that was causing me some serious stress and upset stomachs. I didn't want to tell Rick because then he'd get upset at me for worrying about schools again. But seriously, next year Trace will start school at something like 7:30, Paige starts at 8:15, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Caden</span> starts at 8:30! So do I take all of them when I leave with Trace at 7am or leave the youngest two at home and just take him then come back and take them (<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">ok</span>, that's not really an option). So maybe you can see why that was a little stressful for me. THEN...<br />I was in the pool with the boys yesterday and telling them about a couple of the houses we had looked at. I told Trace that he wouldn't be able to ride the bus but that I'd make sure he still got to his school (not having a clue <em>how</em>). That's when he says, "I'll go to a different school Mom, it's not like I haven't done it before and I'm moving to middle school anyway so what's the difference." Had my child sized floaty been sunk just a bit more in the water I probably would have choked when my jaw dropped! (As it is both boys shrieked in amazement when I got off of it and it had formed an indent where my lovely body had been - nice). So back to the school issue... I drilled him on his motivations and asked him what about friends <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">etcetera</span>. One big issue though is that he doesn't really have any close friends. There just hasn't been anyone that he really bonded with. He always has before so is it one too many school moves or just no one there like him? A new school might give him the opportunity to find that best buddy that every kid needs. However, moving schools is not such a simple issue as walking in and registering. Trace is allergic to peanuts remember? So it will involve <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">transferring</span> his 504 plan to a new school and possibly a new district, educating the staff and getting to know the staff well enough to trust them. Not to mention I've gotten quite comfortable there and feel like I know a lot of people. I'm sick of starting over. I'm sick of educating the world about peanut allergies. But I do want my own home. So that brings us back full circle to the horrible house issue. What we can afford and what we like are two completely different things. Because we lost our shorts on the house in Chicago we have no down payment and because of this stinking economy Rick hasn't moved up the pay scale as planned, we are in a <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">rotten</span> spot. If we settle on something older there could be more maintenance issues. If it needs updating where is that money going to come from and just when does Rick seriously think he'll find the time to do it? If we look in the higher brackets we have to get help and it is no longer "our" house. We feel <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">indebted</span> and tied to the apron strings. So which is it? Of course now that Trace has allowed us to broaden our search we still have to narrow in on only the "good" schools and districts. Does this sound like fun? My stomach is starting to churn again. Oh and lets not forget the debate between a neighborhood and property which is a huge issue. My house is falling apart around me and I took a nap this morning. I know the nap was my way of escaping - maybe I'll go take another. If I sleep long enough will this nightmare be over? I am praying hard for God's guidance but He isn't exactly <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">putting</span> a huge red x on the house He wants for us. I know we are going to have to take a few steps and see if He paves the way or the bottom falls out in order to know some answers. But dang I wish there was a red x somewhere!Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-77376101368083200262009-04-24T15:04:00.000-07:002009-04-25T10:47:59.029-07:00Self Confidence...<span style="font-family:courier new;">I am ready to go back to work. I think. At least I'm ready to contribute to our financial situation, get away from the house occasionally and talk with other adults about more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">engrossing</span> topics than <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">pre</span>-school. Most honestly though, I am ready for the ego boost that comes from doing something well and having others appreciate you. Let's face it, motherhood is a thankless job and we don't get to find out if we were good at it for at least 25-30 years! I'm really ready for a little more immediate gratification.<br /><br />Unfortunately there are a few problems with my idea. The number one issue is that there aren't a lot of jobs out there right now and everyone wants the few that are. When you've been out of work for almost 11 years it is really hard to be much competition. The other issue I have is training and skills. I started working in a daycare when I was still in high school and moved to two different centers before "<span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">retiring</span>" to have Trace 10 years later. I loved what I did, I was good at it and I worked my way up to a 'teacher'. It has been a long time though and I really don't want to go back to working with pre-schoolers again. As I've grown with my kids and realized that bigger kids aren't so scarry I find I have no desire to be back wiping noses (and backsides). Been there. Done that.<br /><br />So, I have a two year general degree. Which means I am poised to jump into whatever it is I want to do. I could finish a four year degree in as little as two years. The whole world is out there waiting for me and I still am no closer to knowing what I want to be "when I grow up" than I was 15 years ago! Well, I take that back. Fifteen years ago I wanted to be a mom and wife. That was it. All I could think about was driving around with a baby in the back and being so happy. Ok, that's over so what's next? I guess I never thought that far. I never looked beyond what would happen once those babies were grown! Lesson learned - a little late.<br /><br />If I could do anything right now I would love to be an everything person in the school. I like feeling needed and like knowing the kids and families. Helping with office work, assisting teachers, whatever. I know I would love that. Unfortunately I don't think that position exists. The schools don't have enough money to hire someone like that and if they did they certainly wouldn't pay much. My other choice would be to work with an adoption agency. Again, to be the everything person. Someone to run errands, go through paperwork, talk with prospective parents about adoption, whatever. There aren't many adoption agencies in our area though and I'm pretty sure the ones that do exist prefer people who have a college degree. What to do, what to do?</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-45727100360101984022009-02-23T13:24:00.000-08:002009-04-25T10:48:32.819-07:00Cleaning kids rooms<span style="font-family:courier new;">So, do you clean your kids rooms? I do. Yeah, I know they are supposed to learn responsibility and a whole bunch of other things but come on, eventually I can't stand it! I really feel the carpet needs to breath occasionally which it can't do suffocated with toys and dirty clothes. So when it reaches "that point" I just take care of it. There are benefits to cleaning your kids room though. They rarely notice when something dissapears like all the candy wrappers from their Valentines at school or the happy meal toy they haven't touched since getting out of the car. I usually end up with at <em>least</em> one bag of garbage! As they get older I figure it will give me opportunity to do a little snooping too. Yes, I'm also <em>that</em> kind of parent. Snooping is, in my opinion, a parent's responsibility and right. I own the house so I have access to all of it and the right to know exactly what's in it. Even the best of kids make really dumb choices and if I can be there to intervene and prevent jail time then I plan to do so. I guess that's what they call co-dependent - and what mother isn't? Something as simple as cleaning a room can also teach you things about your kid you didn't know. Like, which toy they said they liked at Christmas but clearly didn't because it is now shoved in the back of their closet unopened. Or why it is that they never seem to have clean underware when you look under the bed. Most importantly I've learned that it gets a little better with time (although I've yet to experience the teenage years). I can do my 10 year old's room in half the time it takes to clean my 7 year olds. It wasn't all that long ago that the 10 year old's room was just as bad. So there is hope. They won't save the Halloween eraser shaped, like a pumpkin and too small to even hold let alone erase something with, forever. They probably won't even notice it's gone. If you're lucky.</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-35296531518105906942009-02-21T10:10:00.000-08:002009-04-25T10:48:54.258-07:00I'm feeling a little angry...<span style="font-family:courier new;">Somehow, I don't even remember anymore exactly how, I got to following two blogs about two little girls with cancer. Both were diagnosed last summer and both are really having a fight. I guess somehow in my protected little world I had come to believe that kids with cancer typically survived these days. At least the majority of them. Just before Christmas both families got the news that their girl's odds were dramatically decreased for different reasons. I was honestly shocked and saddened by the news. A few weeks ago Lydia's family had to make the decision to stop treatment, it just wasn't working. They packed everyone up and headed to Florida to watch her enjoy her last days. Enjoy them she has, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Disneyworld</span> where she rode Dumbo with her mom for the last time, Toys R Us where she got just about any toy she wanted, a pedicure where the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">technician</span> cried once hearing her story. Then there's me. Angry for her. Angry that a little five year old girl is living her last days. This little girl who survived in a Chinese orphanage long enough to find a family will not get the chance to grow up in that family. Why? Why does she have to have had a life with so much suffering? Why couldn't her little body fight off this nasty cancer? Why? Why? Why? I'm not angry with God like many would be and I know her family isn't either. God doesn't want to see any of us suffer and he didn't create cancer or give it to anyone. It is part of all the sin in the world and free choice and a lot that I don't understand but I know he is weeping with Lydia's family right now. I check her blog several times each day right now waiting to hear if she has finally earned her angel wings. Part of me wants it to be over so that I can go back to <em>my</em> life and not have to be so aware of childhood cancer. The other part is grateful for each day her family has with her. Why do I put myself through this? I'm really not sure. I think some of it is that I am reminded by their stories how fortunate I am to have healthy kids right now. It reminds me to hug them a little tighter. It also reminds me that my little sheltered life isn't all there is. As I go about my daily living there are those who's lives are standing still. Who will never be the same. I think there is some of me that want's to share it with them. To feel their pain on the only level I can. I really am not sure why.<br /><br />As I read one of the girl's blogs yesterday there was a link to a little boy who's family just got the news that he is not going to survive. They put their lives on hold and left home too. His blog linked to several families who's children lost the fight last fall. Little Abby is still fighting but she is heading into the scariest phase and she nearly lost during the last phase. I will keep following their lives until they reach whatever end is meant for them. I will probably weep and shout for joy with them along the way. But I will be forever changed to know that somewhere everyday a child is fighting cancer and many of them will not survive it. That makes me angry. Just angry and a little sick in my stomach. Maybe the anger is hurt, but right now I just recognise it as anger that I'm listening to my kids fight and play while they are watching their's suffer and die.</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-9192660924710599082009-02-14T09:47:00.000-08:002009-04-25T10:49:09.958-07:00Happy Valentines Day (that's what I'm supposed to say)<span style="font-family:courier new;">Well, here it is again, Valentines Day. Now, I'm not a BaHumbug about this day, but I do think entirely too much is put into it. Maybe it's because I'm not an ooey-gooey, touchy-feely, mushy kinda person. I have a hard time with lots of public physical affection between adults. I have NO problem what-so-ever showering my kids with physical affection in public or private though. But for some reason the whole idea of getting things from "you lover" really turns me off. It actually makes me cringe a bit. In my mind a "lover" is what they have on soap operas and usually involves infidelity. It isn't exactly a good thing - at all.<br /><br />So, what do I want from this day? I want to see the smiles on my kid's faces over the one simple little gift we got for them - a candy heart full of Skittles and a small book. They can be so excited over such small things sometimes and it's nice to see. I would like the assurance that my husband still loves me despite the weight I've gained and day to day crabbiness. Some pretty flowers that will last a week or so might be nice. Maybe dinner out so I don't have to cook. But probably more than anything I'd love to hear that I do so much that he just doesn't know how he'd survive without me. Do I honestly expect to hear that? Nope. That's ok, I know it's true even if he doesn't!<br /><br />Some years, if I'm in the mood, I'll put more effort into decorating a little, fixing heart-shaped pancakes or sandwiches and possibly even making a cake. That isn't happening this year. Last week was a bear and the house got behind. Now I get to spend today doing laundry, picking up, cleaning bathrooms and the litter box and vacuuming. Doesn't that sound romantic? My "lover" will be home tonight and if it isn't done, he'll notice. If it is done he probably won't notice or even say anything as he drops his suitcase and clothes to be washed in the entryway. But that's ok because after almost 14 years of marriage I know he appreciates it. I guess that is more what Valentines Day is about to me. Making the people I care most about a little happier. <span style="color:#ffff00;">Seeing </span>a smile on their faces. In return, I'm a little happier too - bonus.</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-35261538581150929442009-02-10T14:41:00.000-08:002009-04-25T10:49:38.547-07:00Are you poor?<span style="font-family:courier new;">Well we are. And so is just about everyone I know. Now just how poor we are depends greatly on your view of things. See, we made about 22K last year. That's for a family of five too. Yet, we live in a newer (rented) 2000 sq.ft. home, drive a 2002 Suburban, own a 31 ft. new travel trailer and have all of our bills paid monthly. Now, to be fair our rent is covered by a family member for the time being. (DH started a new job last year and the income is expected to grow exponentially each year until we can make it entirely on our own.) However, that still doesn't leave much to live on. We have found ways to cut <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">expenses</span> as much as possible; cell, t.v., <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Internet</span>, phone are all on the cheapest package available, no newspaper, no eating out, no <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">unnecessary</span> groceries, I make our pizza and the kids qualify for free lunch at school (I don't feel guilty about that either since it is temporary and we have paid our taxes for many years!) So, now that I've bragged about how wonderfully we manage our finances...<br />What's my point?<br />Well, what is up with people who complain about having no money yet are constantly justifying spending? People about to loose their homes or cars yet each weekend eat out at least once. No wonder people get upset with those on welfare! Maybe they should be required to allow someone else to manage their money if they've been on welfare more than a year and still haven't made any improvements! Then you look at our family and we can't even qualify for food stamps. I manage to keep our grocery bill right about or just under $300 a month. We've paid into the system and for the year or two in our life when we need the help it isn't available. Maybe that's because you don't have to have ever worked to benefit. Heck you don't even have to be a citizen!!! Yeah it makes me mad and more than a little frustrated. I try not to stew about it and cause more stress that I don't need but every so often it bubbles to the surface. Like yesterday after a friend told me how much in food stamps she'll be getting for just her and her three kids. Don't get me wrong she is <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">definitely</span> one who is deserving and in need and probably won't use it for very long, but it did get me thinking about it again. Why is it that when you screw your life up there are all kinds of programs to "reward" you? But when you work your butt off, make <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">sacrafices</span> and wait to have kids you're on your own! Our society is just so screwed up!</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-22569635004780904312009-02-09T21:02:00.000-08:002009-04-24T16:06:16.947-07:00Safety Parenting<span style="font-family:Courier New;">So where is the happy medium? Safety is obviously a concern for everyone but have you ever noticed how one person's concern is not <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">another's</span>? Of course you have. We all have our reasons for finding one thing more <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">worrisome</span> than another. Past experiences and current situations both effect how we perceive safety. Then we have our own ever changing emotions. What may strike fear in your heart one day may not phase you much a few short months later.<br /><br />I figure you can go with the better safe than sorry view on just about everything or take a more wait and see approach. The better safe view is an awful lot of work though. It means walking your kids to and from the bus stop every day, never allowing your children out of sight in a store, attending every field trip, making sure no house they are ever in has any weapons, and for that matter that they never learn to play with weapon either! You would also want to be sure that they only ate free range, organically grown and probably vegan foods - those pop tarts are nothing but poison you know. Doesn't diet pop have <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">chemical</span> 'sugar' in it, but then the regular has far too much 'real' sugar. Any type of screen will completely destroy their minds and they should only be allowed to read non-fiction, we can't be filling their heads with nonsense fantasy!<br /><br />Then you have the wait and see view. That is when you, well, just wait and see. Of course if it goes wrong then there may not be much left to do about it and that could be tragic. Wait and see people probably let their kids ride their bikes miles away and not check in for hours. I imagine they take them to the shooting range on Saturday and feed them a steady diet of pop tarts, hot dogs and soda pop. Naturally they'd be fine with playing video games for hours on end and would likely join in too.<br /><br />So where do I fit? I guess I'm hoping to find that imaginary "happy medium" that most of us hope to find. I walk my kids to and from the bus stop just about every day, let them eat pop tarts at Nana's house and drink pop about once a week. On those frequent long rainy weekends I've been known to ignore the clock while they spend hours mindlessly in front of one screen or another - often with Dad by their side.<br /><br />Of course while they are playing video games and eating a yogurt snack I can probably be found hiding out, shoveling in the leftover holiday candy that they have forgotten about and whiling hours away on the <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Internet</span> under the guise of 'work'. Maybe some of us just don't quite get it. Or maybe we're hopelessly stuck in the 80's where the only thing our parents really worried about was kidnapping and that only happened in big cities anyway. Then again rationalization works too. Those video games do teach hand-eye coordination and some even have a lot of planning and thinking skills involved. Didn't we grow up on hot dogs and Jello with red dye? Look how we turned out!<br /><br />I think the bottom line is that no one has the right answer, though a lot think they do! Those who think they do have all the answers are usually the better safe than sorry types who have no problem looking down their nose at your child with his <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Lunchable</span>. (Hey they have NO idea what kind of morning you had!) The rest of us seem to realize that we are all in this together. We are all doing our best and we reserve the right to change our mind (frequently) because we admit we don't really know what we are doing. So while I may send my seven year old off to get <strike>pop tarts </strike>organic bananas, one day I may not let him out of sight the next day. Let's just hope the evil people are all home on my 'off' days. Does that make me a wait-and-see parent? Great now I have to rein them all in again and make sure they're safe! At least until they are driving me crazy on a rainy weekend and it becomes necessary to remove the batteries from all clocks and pretend not to notice they have been staring at a </span>screen for over eight hours straight.Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-109015737523803849.post-72742026070691901012009-02-09T15:17:00.000-08:002009-02-09T16:27:43.505-08:00Randomness<span style="font-family:courier new;">That's what I wanted to call this blog, but apparently a lot of people have a lot of randomnesss to talk about so it wasn't an available option. Oh-well. I thought "My Secret Identity" was good too. I can write what I want and no one will have to know it's me! I plan to use this site to get my thoughts into writing. Some good, some not so good. Some strange and some hopefully you'll be able to relate to, or at least laugh at! I reserve the right to contradict myself as my opinions can change with more thought. I apologize if I offend anyone - just don't read if I'm offensive (like that will happen). Who knows how long this will last or what it will become, time will tell...</span>Cocohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06510922431208053695noreply@blogger.com0