Family

Proper middle school concert etiquette

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This has been my 8th consecutive year of being a parent of at least one middle school child. Over the years I have learned a thing or two. This is my last year and I am ready to graduate!

If you are a new parent of a middle schooler, pity!! These years are the hardest with so many major changes for the first time. Hormones, growth spurts, dating, fitting in…just to name a few.

Hey, it’s a scary time for parents too.

I want to give helpful, yet humorous, advice on proper etiquette for the middle school concert goer.

Let’s face it, middle school concerts suck!

The kids are just not cute anymore like they were in preschool or grade school. Some of the students have been playing their instruments for 2 months before their first winter concert. They don’t come close to high school or college performances.

I have seen an appalling new trend over the past couple of years of parents yelling out their child’s name as they are approaching the stage. Parents, this is trashy and not at all classy. Or even worse, when the students shout back from the stage. This is not melodious at all.

I like to pretend I paid a lot of money to see this performance. If I consider how much I pay in taxes, I did.

I like to wear something nice. No jeans with holes. No work out clothes. No pajamas…I don’t think pajamas are proper attire for concert goers. I just don’t, even though they were seasonal and really cute.

Let’s talk for a moment about proper concert attire…

It would be wise to have your child set aside his or her concert attire a week or two before the show. If at all possible, hide it in a secret corridor that only you have access to. But never more than two weeks before. If you have things ready a month in advance that is admirable, but your child is sure to grow a foot or two. Did you see the boy whose pants were shorts?

Then there was my child. He said he was prepared, but always lost or outgrew his dress shoes the night of the concert and had to borrow his dad’s dress shoes that were ill fitting.

But my personal favorite is when the girls show up to the concert in a dress they wore from grade 2. Please don’t bend over if you drop something. Or better yet, the comments about the scantily clad girls from the teen boys behind you while you are trying to record your child’s performance.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it when the whole family gets into the concert. It is nice to see people tap their toes to the beat. But I don’t enjoy it when they tap their feet into the back of my seat.

It seems like our middle school has a high turnover of choir and band teachers. I love the experienced teachers because they are sure to have a medley at the end of the show where all of the grades perform together. This prevents a stampede to the exit after the concert goer’s child performs. If you are going to leave before the concert ends, at least take a few crying kids with you.

The last show that I went to, there was a man who was in such a hurry to leave after his kid performed that he tripped on an extension cord and almost fell. It was very entertaining. I almost clapped.

If only people had proper middle school concert etiquette like I do. To think, it only took me 8 years to figure it all out.

 

No fires

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I worked late Thursday night until 8 PM. If I worked late, I would be able to keep to my running schedule which hasn’t been broken since the stomach flu of May of 2016. It is more important than writing.

Friday morning I ran 12 miles. It was the best run in ages. I didn’t feel any pain or exhaustion. I felt energetic and happy. Things were going good until I realized that I was missing a key ingredient in the dip I was making for the afternoon staff party. I had to make an unexpected trip to the store on the busiest grocery shopping day of the year.

The parking lot to the store was a zoo. Traffic was backed up for a mile away. Not many parking lots spaces were to be had and there weren’t many carts either. Angel was called into work at the store on that day and I was happy to see her busy working while I was there.

We closed the office early on Friday and scheduled an office wide website training and beer sampling party upon the suggestion of our sales guy James. James said that the party was going to be the highlight of his holiday weekend. He is a divorced man and his only son was spending the weekend with his in-laws. I felt bad for him.

We learned a lot about the technical side of our website and it was determined that I was going to help start a blog.

Then Christmas Eve came before I knew it. I realized I had been so busy at work that I forgot to drink out of my special holiday mug this year. I didn’t even wrap gifts until later in the day.

Angel and I sang a duet at church that evening. We were also part of the choir. It was a strange evening. Someone smelled smoke and thought they saw smoke coming out of the church building right before the choir processed in. We discussed briefly how flammable our choir robes are.

Angel and I decided to sing our duet without the security of having the music in front of us. We were nervous as we looked out at the hundreds of people in attendance. Angel was freaking out that she would forget the words. We made a couple of errors. I had to look at all of the people looking at me while I sang. It was nerve wracking. If I had the music, I could stare at that instead of at the eyes on me.

During the service, the other soloist forgot his words. The pastor started the sermon without reading the gospel. Then he lingered for a long time in his robe over the lit candles. We remembered our discussion on how flammable the robes are. The choir was ready to jump on him to put out the flames or interrupt the service to have the pastor move only to find out later that the candles were fake.

We awoke the following morning to a white Christmas. Later in the day, it started to sleet and then rain. I was worried about my son on the road. He made it home safe.

For awhile, Paul was hurt that I didn’t get him a Christmas gift. I felt bad that he felt bad. It was a big misunderstanding. I thought that he said that we should buy ourselves our own gifts. So I bought myself a wet suit on clearance. That probably sounds bad. I bought myself something, but got him nothing. He did buy some ice fishing stuff that I have no clue about.

Arabella, Paul, and I had a relaxing Christmas day together. I stayed in my pajamas all day.

I’m sorry this post wasn’t as exciting as I intended it to be. The church didn’t end up starting on fire. Everything ended up turning out great in the end.

I want to say thanks again for your presence, if you stuck with me this far. Having this blog is a wonderful gift. I am so happy that you are following along on this journey of mine..

 

Merry Christmas!

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Merry Christmas!

I hope you are all having a wonderful day with family.

This year for Christmas, I got old. I’m not talking about the plethora of socks and hand soap I got for gifts this year either. Although, I suppose it doesn’t help.

I feel old.

I am old.

Last night the kids showed Paul and I the internet and some thing called memes. Some of them were rather clever, but most to me seemed like a waste of time. I wouldn’t know how to make one or how to get something like that on my blog. I an old fashioned. I use words.

I felt old as I watched my husband put on his reading glasses to squint at the moving objects on their phones.

Didn’t we know that people can get really rich making cat memes?

I can barely figure out how to upload my own pictures. Geez!

I look at my children and think how much like me they are, but I can’t relate. I don’t understand their world. Their generation is alien to me. I spent my childhood reading books and riding my bike. I like their world, but I don’t belong there.

Then I realized that I am the old fashioned one now. I am the one out of touch.

This morning our family read the Christmas story out of the Bible. We had an adult discussion on view points and beliefs. Then we opened our gifts like we have every year. We ate lunch together. Then my oldest two children left to be with the families of their significant others. They spent the day with people I don’t know. They weren’t at home like they were year after year watching movies and playing games.

They have grown up. It is the way that it is meant to be. I feel old and left behind.

I think I know what I want to be when I grow up. Younger!! I saw that on a meme somewhere…

Maybe I will have to ask for the fountain of youth next year for Christmas!

 

Snow way!

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Last week I left you with a bit of a cliffhanger…I told you that we were driving across the state in a snow storm and I haven’t been heard from since…until now, that is.

The snow storm started on Friday. It was the first big snow storm of the season. As expected, a lot of Wisconsinites forgot how to drive.

Paul went ice fishing for the first time.

Last time I talked about the weather, I was saying how warm it was in November. Then December came and it seems like the temperature dropped from 60 to 20 below just like that. A few schools in the area already had closures for the wind chills. So it has been cold. Cold enough to form a solid layer of ice on the lakes.

While Paul was out fishing, he had a bit of an accident. His ice auger rolled around in the back of the truck spilling gas all over the place. How was I going to put sleeping bags in the back of the truck for our weekend trip when opening the back of the truck made my eyes burn? We had to do some major cleaning..

Saturday morning we left in the snow storm…after Paul shoveled 6 inches of snow that fell overnight. We made the 3 hour drive across the state in 4 hours. The roads were snow covered and slippery. For most of the trip, the highway was down to one lane. We passed cars in the ditch with people inside of them. While events at home were cancelled, we made the trip across the state along with other friends to visit family for the holiday only to turn around and drive all the way back home the next day.

Then after our 3 hour (4 hour) drive to my brother Luke’s, we were faced with another 3 hour (4 hour) drive to pick up Angel from college. Thankfully my dad offered to pick up Angel from college. I have to give my dad a lot of credit here. He hasn’t always been the world’s greatest dad, but he really helped us out big time. I really appreciated his help.

The time spent at my brother’s went by really fast. We had a great time, then we were back on the road again..The ride back home was a lot easier. The roads were in better condition. The sun came out and pierced our eyes as it gleamed off of the fresh snow. The wind chills were around 20 below.

We came home to a couple more inches to shovel. It was starting to get dark. Since Paul did all of the driving, I offered to shovel. Growing old sucks, but there is something good about being a woman in my 40’s. I don’t feel cold often anymore. All my life I was the girl curled up in blankets on the hottest days of summer. Not anymore! The cold doesn’t phase me anymore. Sometimes I even feel hot when it is cold outside.

What can I say? I am 42 and hot! Ha ha.. Sometimes half of my body is cold while the other half is hot. As strange as it sounds, I sometimes am hot and cold at the same time. Hot flashes, cold sweats…So, shoveling while it was 20 below wasn’t that bad..

Anyway, not what I was planning on talking about..

It has been great with Angel home. She appreciates us so much more since she left for college. The first day home, she bought me flowers. She helped take the burden off at work and has offered to do some of the housework. She said that she feels good when she gets things accomplished during the day. That’s my girl! We spend the evenings in deep conversation.

Now that she is an adult, she has become a really good friend.

I just wanted to let you know that we made it home safe.

I hate following a blog, hearing that the said blogger is taking a trip that may or may not include danger, and then not hearing from them ever again. Seriously, are you okay?? One never knows on this sphere where some of my best friends don’t have names..

I am such a warrior! Did I just say that? Whoops! I meant worrier…Hmm..Oh well.

 

 

 

That bites!

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I feel overwhelmed by the busyness at work. I like being busy, but I don’t like feeling like I can’t keep up. Paul and I have been working hard together, alone. We have been arguing for days. It seems like the stress is bringing out the extremes in our personalities and right now we clash. I have been holding myself tight and my body aches from it more than it does from a 12 mile run.

There is no sanctuary.

At home, my pets still have fleas. They are licking and scratching themselves until they bleed. It disgusts me. I don’t want them around me. They sit in my chair and scratch. I can’t relax. I feel crawly when I sit down. I can’t stand to be in my house. It is unnerving.

The vet said there was nothing I could do, that I might still see a few fleas all winter even after treatment. I never would’ve guessed that something like this could happen. Was it the unseasonably warm fall temperatures??

I blame myself. My husband asked me why I blame myself for situations I have no control over. I really don’t know why.

If only I would have treated the pets a few weeks back when I suspected but didn’t find anything. I only put flea treatments on my pets if I have to. Maybe I was wrong.

I have been strongly indoctrinated as a child that the use of any chemicals was wrong. My autistic brother Matt was supposedly allergic. We weren’t allowed to wear bug spray. My brothers and dad had to take down wasps nests with the end of a rake and run or spray them with a hose. Chemicals were not allowed. Instead of weed killer, we put cement blocks on weeds to kill them.

I am not that extreme, but it is hard to change my mindset.

The one thing I am excited about is picking Angel up from college for winter break. We are heading out to pick her up this weekend and then having a family Christmas party at my brother Luke’s house.

We are also supposed to get a snow storm this weekend. We are expecting a foot of snow. After it is done snowing, we will have strong winds and dangerously cold temps. This is going to make the 6 hour drive downright treacherous for us.

Why can’t my life ever be boring!??!!!!!

Regardless, it is certain to give me something interesting to write about!

A simple gift

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Most of the time it is the trials in life that shape and mold us into people with character and strength. It makes us better people.

But if I wholeheartedly believe what I just said…than why do I want the opposite for my children?

Paul and I are both (gulp) intellectuals. We try to provide an environment that stimulates learning and promotes education. We read the kids a lot of books when they were young. Paul and I both love to read. Paul spent half of our children’s childhood working on his Master’s degree. He spends hours researching topics of interest, such as, making a geometrical chart with the wind trajectory and sailing co-ordinates to try to improve his race to learning how to rewire his boat. They always see me writing.

We thought that our children would embrace learning, and most of them do. That is why we had such a hard time the last several years when our son kept bringing home failing grades. We knew that he was smart.

We weren’t expecting him to be just like his dad…

Paul grew up in a completely different environment. His mother, Martha, dropped out of high school before she got pregnant with him as a teenager. She tried over the years to get her GED, but never could pass the test. When she was in her 50’s, she went back to school to get her CNA certificate. Paul, the kids, and I watched her walk down the aisle in her cap and gown to receive her diploma. She was so ecstatic. It was the first degree that she earned in her life. Her excitement saddened me.

When Paul was in 4th grade, he moved from Chicago to a small rural town in Wisconsin. He moved up with his mom and grandma. Due to a brief marriage, Martha had a different last name than Paul. Paul shared the last name of his grandma. This was a very unusual situation back in the 70’s in that area. The kids picked on him because he had no dad. He had a mother with a different last name and still no dad. Everyone thought that Paul was stupid because his mother was intellectually slow. Paul thought that he was stupid too.

He didn’t have a parent that valued education. On parents day at school, he sat alone. His mom couldn’t take time off of work because she was a single parent and had bills to pay. She did what she had to do. He didn’t have someone in the house that could help him with homework. He didn’t have a dad to play catch with.

He failed a high school class and had to take remedial summer school. He ended up going to college because a friend was going and he thought it would be fun. He went to college, did too much partying, and still got bad grades. It caught up to him eventually.

Paul ended up getting kicked out of college for a semester. He went back to his small town and got a factory job alongside his mother. He noticed how poorly his mother was treated there. He couldn’t see himself living that way for the rest of his life. The next semester he went back to school and decided that he wanted to work hard to get good grades. He turned his life around. He even applied for law school, but got rejected.

Sometimes Paul feels like he could’ve been so much more..

He wanted a better life for our children. He gave them something that he never had, although it seems so simple, so basic..

Now it is up to them what they will do with this gift.

 

 

 

 

 

The boy in the trunk

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I received my first call from the principal’s office the beginning of the school year.

I really wasn’t expecting it because for the first month of school their automated lunch reminder was on the fritz. I was used to getting calls every day telling me that my lunch account had a remainder of $0.99. Payment will be necessary or service will be denied. Good thing I didn’t hang up right away expecting the automated message. Otherwise I probably would’ve had my picture on the bad parent bulletin board that I suspect administrators, teachers, and staff have to throw darts at when they really get pissed off at our kids.

It started back in grade school, the first call from the principal’s office. Back in those days, my son and a few of his buddies decided to moon the kids on the playground. They all got suspended for a few days.

Most of the calls I received over the years were for similar mischievous pranks. This time was no different than many of the others.

It was the Friday of homecoming when my son decided to leave the school at lunch with a group of friends (against school rules for sophomores). There were so many friends in his (my) car that there really wasn’t enough room for them all (probationary license violation). So his friend Jay decided that he wanted to be transported to the local fast food dive in the trunk (wrong on so many levels). Seriously, what if my son got rear ended?

Not long after that, I received a visitor that came calling to my door late on a Friday night.

Just a little recap of other visitors that came calling to my door late on a Friday night.

There was a boy named Jake, his mom came to my door to say he ran away. (We found out later that Jake was hiding out at Isaac’s house). In the meantime, his dad flew in from the east coast. We scoured the corn fields, pinpointed stops along railroad track maps, printed out posters with his picture, and searched abandoned buildings, new construction, and storage sheds all while his grandmother cried. Not a good knock on the door.

There was another Friday night door knock from another parent regarding bullying that Isaac did to another boy. That was the first warning bell that went off that something wasn’t right about his friend Isaac. Eventually he got expelled from school for selling drugs. His mother said that he had aspirations of being a pharmacist. Wow, while in middle school. **((*^&*%%$&^$!!!!!

We received another late Friday night knock saying that Isaac ran away.  A few months ago, Isaac moved away. This will (hopefully) be the last time that I mention his name.

The latest Friday night knock on the door was from Jay’s mom. She stopped by to scream at me. Apparently, my son had an agreement with Jay that he would give him unlimited rides this year if Jay does it next year. Jay’s mom was pissed off that she had to pick up her son. Don’t I know that she works third shift?? She screamed at me and before I could say a word, she sped off squealing tires.

I could understand completely if she was mad that my son drove around with her son in the trunk of the car. I just don’t get some of these parents! Really?

Then a miracle happened…. My son said that he wanted to get into a good college. He said that his goal was to be on the honor roll. I almost passed out. For the past three years he failed so many classes that he was on the edge of having to take summer remedial classes.

What happened?? Did he want to prove to his new girlfriend that he was smart? Was it because the bad kid moved away? Was it all of grandma’s extra prayers?? Or is he just finally growing up?? This past quarter he almost made the honor roll. To me it is not achieving being on the honor roll that matters as much as the striving for it. He cares enough now to try for it.

And to think that I thought my best option was to avoid being home on a Friday night!

 

On a day like today

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It happened on a cold December day like today.

It happened to a woman my age who had children the ages of some of my children.

I wonder what it would be like..to find out that I was pregnant unexpectedly. She was worried that her husband would be upset when she suspected. She told my mother that.

Her oldest child was already married and out of the house. Her youngest child was 8.

For a couple of months, her oldest child and her were pregnant at the same time.

It was in December many decades ago that her last child, a healthy baby girl was born.

My mom who was the second oldest, called her older sister the day after the baby was born.

“She’s dead”, my mom said. “The baby?”, asked her sister. “No, mom”.

Many decades, years, minutes, and seconds have passed since that cold December day. The oldest daughter has already passed away. Most of my aunts and uncles are reaching retirement age. But I still see them long for the mother that left them too soon. When they get together they still read the old letters she wrote. Tales of what was made for dinner the evening before. Stories about nothing important that makes the siblings laugh and cry.

I feel very thankful that I have had my mother in my life so long.

Paul and I are now approaching the loss of our first parent. It really forces us to face death. I thought about it a lot over the trip to Door County last month with my mother and a few of her siblings, especially when they spoke of the loss of their mother. (The picture above is of my mom and her sister).

My mother’s youngest brother, the 8 year old boy at the time of his mother’s death, said in Door County that some of his favorite movies today are the ones that his mother took him to see right before she died. It was really touching.

My oldest uncle was 16 when his mom passed away. I have a 16 year old son. He would be mortified if I told him I was pregnant. It is the age that most teenage boys don’t want anything to do with their mother. I suspect that my uncle felt the same way and felt guilty for wanting to separate from his mother especially after she passed away unexpectedly. He is currently going through a nasty divorce from a woman that I knew for my whole life to be my aunt. At this hard time, he yearns for his mother so much that he has been visiting a medium just to try to talk to her again. It is terribly sad.

My mother said to me many times growing up that she wished her mother was there. She knew that her mother would have helped her raise an autistic child.

I never met my grandma. I have only seen the impact she has had on her children. From this, I know that she was a good person.

I am so blessed to have my mother in my life for this long..

I sneeze..

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I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze. 

Am I getting sick? Or am I allergic to the tree?

The cat has fleas..

A sick child needing to be picked up from school early..

I sneeze..

Many ideas swirl through my head, but no time to write..

Work..busy during a slow time..

A weekend away to see my daughter perform..

A long drive home on snowy roads..

Cleaning.. Laundry..

Christmas parties all week…all month..

Bunco party…church choir party…sailing club party…staff party…band concert…choir concert….band concert…choir concert for my three kids in three different schools in two different towns…an overnight family Christmas party out of town…tickets to a show…singing for the Advent services every Wednesday night…singing again on Christmas Eve…Christmas Day with family…

Picking up a kid from college…visiting my dying mother-in-law…scheduling conflicts…a hair cut..a birthday party..

Should I start my Christmas shopping??

I sneeze..

Bring a dish to pass…a dish to pass…a dish to pass…Whatever shall I make?? Whatever shall I take? 

Secret Santa…a gift exchange…

No winter clothes that fit my youngest kid..

Cooking, cleaning, dishes, laundry..

A sick kid, pets with fleas..

I sneeze and sneeze and sneeze…

Not a special Olympics type of story

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For many the holiday season triggers memories of joy and happiness. For me, this time of year triggers some sort of post traumatic stress response. I realize that now. Wow, and it only took me 19 years to figure it out after I earned a degree in psychology.

I feel like I am back to normal now, whatever that is..

For the first time in my life, I was able to write down exactly how I felt while I was going through it. It wasn’t easy to relate. I think I have some sort of post traumatic stress response to certain triggers. It sounds absolutely crazy, I know. Most of the time triggers elicit a response of depression for a day or two at most.

I think this happens more often than I realize, but not quite as severe.

After I left my childhood home, I fell into a deep depression that lasted for several years. I also picked up anger and anxiety to put in my baggage along the way.

I don’t blame anyone for what happened.

I remember starting to feel angry last week at Thanksgiving when my mom was giving me a hard time about taking Prilosec for my acid reflux. She really wants me to get allergy testing and offered to pay for it. I have been reluctant. It’s not that I disagree, it triggered memories of growing up.

Matt was supposedly allergic to everything. We couldn’t even have cars parked in the garage because of exhaust fumes. We couldn’t have curtains because of the formaldehyde. For awhile we weren’t allowed to use toothpaste.

Personally, I think that my mother’s response was too extreme. She would have extreme anxiety if Matt was exposed to any allergens. She would scream at my dad if he came in the house smelling like exhaust fumes. She called the nearby farmers and screamed at them if they sprayed their fields without calling her first. She even called the county and yelled at them when they came by spraying the ditches.

My mom seemed to think that controlling Matt’s environment would stop him from being violently autistic. But nothing seemed to stop his violence towards himself and others, namely me.

I think that my mother has and always had good intentions. She is worried that I will die from kidney failure, a supposed side effect from the Prilosec. I will have to tell her that my daughter Angel has already offered me her kidney when mine fails.

My mom was always there for me when I was a kid. She was the one who helped me pick up the pieces of my broken mind after Matt was violent. She also helped my brother Mark out when he experienced a similar response to mine. The task she was given was not easy to do.

I don’t blame my dad, despite his cruelty. He was as much of a victim as the rest of us.

I don’t even blame Matt. If you met Matt today, you wouldn’t believe a word I have told you. He is now docile. By some miracle, he grew out of his violence.

The last time that he hurt someone was 14 years ago. He attacked Angel on her 4th birthday. After he attacked Angel, it was a time of great emotional turmoil for me. I cut Matt out of my life completely for a few years. He wasn’t allowed around my children.

His psychiatrist threatened to have him committed to a place for the violently mentally ill. It was one thing when a child was hurting other children, but it was entirely different when a grown man was attacking children. In response to this, Matt was home bound once again and kept out of public where he could hurt someone and get committed.

I was already feeling edgy about my mom pushing the allergy testing on Thursday. Then my visit with my dying mother-in-law on Saturday made me very anxious. Then the sadness over Angel going back to college and the trigger of the Christmas tree was enough to set me off into this deep dark spiral downward.

I feel horrible about talking to you about this. I wish I had a great special Olympics type special needs sibling story to tell you. I feel tremendous guilt that I don’t.

I haven’t met anyone else who has had a similar experience to mine. If you are out there somewhere, I want to tell you that there is hope. This was the only thing that kept me alive as a teenager and young adult. I prayed fervently and had hope that someday there would be a better life for me where I could experience joy.

I firmly believe that you cannot fully experience joy without experiencing sorrow. I have found that joy in abundance. I experience life at a much deeper level than I think I would have if my life was easy breezy. No small talk here, just the blatant honest truth. There is value in being able to honestly share the sorrow that I experienced this week. I need to accept what I have been through and the emotions that accompany it.

There is hope! If opening myself up and allowing myself to be vulnerable helps just one person hold on for another day, it would be worth it. You are not alone! There is hope…

Trust that tomorrow will be a better day.