“Can you give me a jump?”
I looked at the ghetto woman in front of me.
“My car’s just over there, all I need is a jump.”
My kids ran on to my front door, wiggling the doorknob, hoping that maybe I had left the door unlocked. I looked at the woman who waited impatiently for me to say yes. Her face sparking off emotions of anger, frustration, and annoyance with me.
She shifted to the other foot, starting to get disgusted with my lack of response.
I had to get the kids dressed for church, get some lunch on the table. I looked at my car trying to think how long it would take.
“Well, don’t worry, I’ll ask someone else.”
Good, I was off the hook.
“It’s obvious you don’t want to help.”
The rude caveat stunned me. As if she was entitled to my help.
The young mother shifted her infant daughter to the library counter. Her active toddler had finally come to a stop at her feet, and the school age child was hanging off the doorknob.
“Can I get one copy?” Her sunny face was a wall of clouds, the only emotion showing stress.
As I ran the copy I could hear her frustration as she talked to her kids. The kids were under control, but she sounded like she was trying to tame a hurricane. Must have been one of those mornings where she was already at her wits ends. She was so stressed she couldn’t see that the kids were now calm.
She muttered to herself about her husband, where was he, she needed him. Why couldn’t he come get the kids? If not all of them, at least one of them. She had things to do. They were his kids too.
I was taken aback.
It has been a long time since I’ve thought that my kids were anyone else’s responsibility. Even when I was married, I long ago gave up that expectation.
Just because you married the person, and had children with them doesn’t mean you are entitled to anything. Yes, we would like certain behavior. But just because that person signed a marriage license with you doesn’t mean you have the right to demand his time, and involvement.
“Your daughter needs to do a week long project, and then right a short paragraph about her feelings on service for the Primary program next week.”
I stared at the woman in front of me.
You want my daughter to do what? I know you may think that’s asking 20-30 minutes out of my time, but you don’t have a job outside the home.
I work hard to get my kids to all their church programs. We read scripture stories each night.
“No, I can’t do it, I’m sorry. I’m a single working mother. In between the house, the kids, the homework.”
“She can’t do a small act of service at home, like make someone’s bed each morning?”
I looked at my daughter. Her hands were busy in the shelves, getting into the paperclips.
We do well to run on a routine each morning. I’m doing well when she makes it to the breakfast table. No, the truth was I didn’t need extra stress.
“No.”
Anger flickered across her face. I was telling her no.
She felt I should have said yes, I should have agreed. She was entitled to my cooperation.
“My kids have heard me tell this story multiple times, so bear with me here. Back a few years ago I went down to help with the disaster relief from Katrina.
“So many poor people, everything they had taken from them. And to make matters worse, these people felt the government, or someone should step in and help them. They kept on looking for the next hand out. And got angry when no one stepped forward to help them.
“Instead of working hard to make a difference, they complained about what someone didn’t do for them, what they should have gotten.
“For a long time I got mad at these poor people I was there to help. But then I realized, this is the only life they’ve ever known. They don’t know how to make a difference.
“We’ve taught these people time and time again that they are entitled to something. Someone will step in with a net, and rescue them. They don’t have to take responsibility.”
Too many times in our culture we don’t take personal responsibility. Instead of making our own lives better we get angry that someone doesn’t do what we expect them to do.
Our freedom to choose is a God given right. To assume that someone will make certain choices is a sin against the freedom of choice that God gave that person.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Lunch with the kids
Sunflower and airport
Originally uploaded by Sunflower Central
I took the day off to spend with the kids. Looking for something exciting to do, I took the children out to an observation park at the airport. We ate our picinic, and watched planes land.
These happy moments, wonderful times together are just so precious. And so simple, watching planes, eating sandwhiches.
The simple pleasures of life are often the best.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
History Lessons
My son and I went out to dinner. As usual I took a book with me. He plays, I read.
I grabbed a wonderful pictoral history book, News Headlines from the last Century. It's interesting to see what things were important. The Kind of England's Abdication was much more imporant that the rise of the Nazi party.
I thumbed thru it, reading articles. He happened to glane at the book, all the pictures catching his attention.
"What's that, Mom?"
I explained the book, and then began telling him the stories out of the book.
He keeps running off with the book. At bedtime I send them to bed with a book to read to and calm down. He's fascinated with the 70's. He's been reading up on when Star Wars came out. Vietnam. It's so neat so see him trying to prop his eyelids open so he can read another article that's caught his fancy.
I grabbed a wonderful pictoral history book, News Headlines from the last Century. It's interesting to see what things were important. The Kind of England's Abdication was much more imporant that the rise of the Nazi party.
I thumbed thru it, reading articles. He happened to glane at the book, all the pictures catching his attention.
"What's that, Mom?"
I explained the book, and then began telling him the stories out of the book.
He keeps running off with the book. At bedtime I send them to bed with a book to read to and calm down. He's fascinated with the 70's. He's been reading up on when Star Wars came out. Vietnam. It's so neat so see him trying to prop his eyelids open so he can read another article that's caught his fancy.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Perfect moment
We had one of those absolutely wonderful moments last night.
My daughter was in the kitchen with me as I cooked dinner. I cut up the veggies and she dumped them into the pan. Meanwhile she chatted with me, telling me all about the wonderful things in her imagination.
My son, not to be left out, finally came in as I started dumping spices into the pan. He read out the names off the small glass jars.
"Mom, there are leaves in this one!" He said holding up the bay leaves.
I had to keep moving their heads out of the way so I could get access to the stove. They didn't argue with each other. They simply stood there talking, commenting, and talking with me.
I wish life was like this all the time. Pleasant little people, busy learning about the world, observing, commenting. It was just one of those precious little jewels.
My daughter was in the kitchen with me as I cooked dinner. I cut up the veggies and she dumped them into the pan. Meanwhile she chatted with me, telling me all about the wonderful things in her imagination.
My son, not to be left out, finally came in as I started dumping spices into the pan. He read out the names off the small glass jars.
"Mom, there are leaves in this one!" He said holding up the bay leaves.
I had to keep moving their heads out of the way so I could get access to the stove. They didn't argue with each other. They simply stood there talking, commenting, and talking with me.
I wish life was like this all the time. Pleasant little people, busy learning about the world, observing, commenting. It was just one of those precious little jewels.
Friday, September 26, 2008
Why it works
People find out I'm dating. They say, so what's he like?
And I find myself tongue tied. Ummm . . . tall, dark and handsome?
They expect to hear a little bit more. They want to hear me gush poetry. Recite the list of romantic gestures he's done. Impress them with how he's swept me off my feet.
And it's not like that. I want them to be happy for me. I want to find words that express who he is, and what he means to me. And the usual things just aren't cutting the mustard.
But today I finally did it. So for everyone curious about why this guy is in my life. I finally have an answer for you.
As a woman who survived abuse, who has walked thru the fire, I have seen what it is to be treated badly. I have scars on my heart that will be with my for the rest of my life. I am a survivor. I am not a victim. A victim has no choices. Instead I choose to survive and hold my head high. I know what it is to live without respect. To live in fear.
Today I have a man who respects me. It thrills me to hear him say he is proud of me. Proud of who I am, and what I've accomplished in my life. He glories in the quirks of my personality, the odd things that could so easily be made fun of. He counts the days that we are apart. Each of us is a busy full time working, single parent with many responsibilities to the world. He calls me when he's busy; he calls me when he's got a free moment.
He treats me the way I always dreamed of being treated. The way I thought I never would be treated. With utter respect, joy, and concern. He is trustworthy. He takes the time to know what it is that I like, and why I like it. He understands me.
He sent me a bouquet of Sunflowers. He knew the special place the Sunflower holds in my heart. He took the time to ask the questions. Sunflowers, not roses.
When the problems of life mount all around me, he calms me down. He helps me see that I have the solutions right at my finger tips. He helps me find the power to change my life, and find that power within myself. He won't allow me to lean on him. And I have to say I am very grateful of that. I take alot more pride in myself when I solve my problems. I can stand in front of him as his equal.
The three months we have been dating have taught me to hold my chin up. It has strengthened my resolve.
I have survived the fire, and I will flourish.
And I find myself tongue tied. Ummm . . . tall, dark and handsome?
They expect to hear a little bit more. They want to hear me gush poetry. Recite the list of romantic gestures he's done. Impress them with how he's swept me off my feet.
And it's not like that. I want them to be happy for me. I want to find words that express who he is, and what he means to me. And the usual things just aren't cutting the mustard.
But today I finally did it. So for everyone curious about why this guy is in my life. I finally have an answer for you.
As a woman who survived abuse, who has walked thru the fire, I have seen what it is to be treated badly. I have scars on my heart that will be with my for the rest of my life. I am a survivor. I am not a victim. A victim has no choices. Instead I choose to survive and hold my head high. I know what it is to live without respect. To live in fear.
Today I have a man who respects me. It thrills me to hear him say he is proud of me. Proud of who I am, and what I've accomplished in my life. He glories in the quirks of my personality, the odd things that could so easily be made fun of. He counts the days that we are apart. Each of us is a busy full time working, single parent with many responsibilities to the world. He calls me when he's busy; he calls me when he's got a free moment.
He treats me the way I always dreamed of being treated. The way I thought I never would be treated. With utter respect, joy, and concern. He is trustworthy. He takes the time to know what it is that I like, and why I like it. He understands me.
He sent me a bouquet of Sunflowers. He knew the special place the Sunflower holds in my heart. He took the time to ask the questions. Sunflowers, not roses.
When the problems of life mount all around me, he calms me down. He helps me see that I have the solutions right at my finger tips. He helps me find the power to change my life, and find that power within myself. He won't allow me to lean on him. And I have to say I am very grateful of that. I take alot more pride in myself when I solve my problems. I can stand in front of him as his equal.
The three months we have been dating have taught me to hold my chin up. It has strengthened my resolve.
I have survived the fire, and I will flourish.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Pseudo Family Dating
In this modern age of dating there has sprung up what I call Pseudo-family dating. It’s a combination of a lot of factors.
You see single parents dating, and playing pretend house together. They help each other care for the children. They go to the zoo, and take the kids to McDonald's. It’s a great way for the adults to spend time together while the children are occupied, to see how the other behaves, and not have to arrange babysitting.
There are some very good things that come out of this. One of the most important things is you get to see how the other person behaves in a home setting. A good friend talks often about how important it is to her that the floor be clean. Listening to her talk, you would believe that her house is neat and tidy at all times. Nope, just the floor. Carpets are shampooed once a month.
Another thing that happens with this style of dating is your family gets a chance to see the person. They come with you to family functions. Birthday parties, Holidays and other events, there they are. There are more sets of eyes, judging if this person is a good match, does this person really suit you?
Personally, I don’t agree with this style of dating. It creates a false sense of intimacy. Since you have shared all these home like moments together, and have a history together, it feels like you have a good foundation. No, you just have a bunch of things that you’ve done together. Nothing can substitute for conversations, and time. If you don’t know the person it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve had fun together at the zoo, it won’t make a good marriage. Understanding, and sharing with your partner build a true connection that has a better chance of standing the pushes and pulls children place on parents. Ice cream at Marble Slab doesn’t help you when your child is screaming “Mom, he’s not my Dad and if he tells me one more time what to do, I’m running away!” A solid relationship with your partner can give you the foundation to deal with kids like that.
At a recent party I listened to a friend. She said, I’ve been dating him for a year. He’s a great guy. My kids love him. He’s asked me to marry him three times, and I’ve turned him down. I kept my mouth shut, listening to her talk. She explained there was nothing wrong with him, she just knew there was not enough right with him either. She wanted to break up, but staid because her kids got along great with the guy.
Kids don’t make adult decisions; adults do. Kids who are given that power are ultimately given the power to take a family apart.
You see single parents dating, and playing pretend house together. They help each other care for the children. They go to the zoo, and take the kids to McDonald's. It’s a great way for the adults to spend time together while the children are occupied, to see how the other behaves, and not have to arrange babysitting.
There are some very good things that come out of this. One of the most important things is you get to see how the other person behaves in a home setting. A good friend talks often about how important it is to her that the floor be clean. Listening to her talk, you would believe that her house is neat and tidy at all times. Nope, just the floor. Carpets are shampooed once a month.
Another thing that happens with this style of dating is your family gets a chance to see the person. They come with you to family functions. Birthday parties, Holidays and other events, there they are. There are more sets of eyes, judging if this person is a good match, does this person really suit you?
Personally, I don’t agree with this style of dating. It creates a false sense of intimacy. Since you have shared all these home like moments together, and have a history together, it feels like you have a good foundation. No, you just have a bunch of things that you’ve done together. Nothing can substitute for conversations, and time. If you don’t know the person it doesn’t matter how many times you’ve had fun together at the zoo, it won’t make a good marriage. Understanding, and sharing with your partner build a true connection that has a better chance of standing the pushes and pulls children place on parents. Ice cream at Marble Slab doesn’t help you when your child is screaming “Mom, he’s not my Dad and if he tells me one more time what to do, I’m running away!” A solid relationship with your partner can give you the foundation to deal with kids like that.
At a recent party I listened to a friend. She said, I’ve been dating him for a year. He’s a great guy. My kids love him. He’s asked me to marry him three times, and I’ve turned him down. I kept my mouth shut, listening to her talk. She explained there was nothing wrong with him, she just knew there was not enough right with him either. She wanted to break up, but staid because her kids got along great with the guy.
Kids don’t make adult decisions; adults do. Kids who are given that power are ultimately given the power to take a family apart.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Ritalin
On Thursday I put my daughter on Ritalin for Hyperactivity. It was a long road winding there.
The road started about two years ago with her brother actually. The teacher felt that my son showed signs of ADD. And I thought the teacher needed a serious slap upside the head. In no uncertain terms I told the teacher, and counselor this. My son needs a firm hand, and responds well to authority, and encouragement.
I talked with a really good friend, a fellow single mother. My friend is a nurse, and when the school called her saying her eldest needed medication she told them where to put their opinions. Her child, despite being a good kid, continued to have problems. She found the best Neurologist in town, and soon found herself with a diagnosis of Aspersers and Hyperactivity. On medication the child reported, Mommy, my mind is quiet. She felt horror knowing that her child had been struggling with a condition that couldn’t be controlled, and she had allowed him to suffer with it for that long. She told me, if my kid had had a seizure, I would have put him on medication. But here he was, trying his hardest, and he couldn’t do it. I denied him medication.
Another friend, a stay at home Mom has a brilliant son. The child was reading around the age of 3. He started kindergarten the most excited little boy you could imagine. He was thrilled to pieces to find a classroom full of things to learn and study. Words on the walls to be read, books to study, numbers. It was just a treasure trove for this excited little boy. But this brilliant little boy soon found himself in trouble every day for getting out of his seat, for experimenting, and doing the things a only a brilliant 5 year old could think to do. Instead of rising to the top of the class, he sunk. The mother took him to a holistic doctor. Behavior therapy, changes in nutrition, vitamins, a strict schedule. The child felt a compulsion to move all the time, so the Doctor gave him a small rock to move in his hand. In the end, the mother had to pull him out of public school. Now they home school. Due to the nutritional needs, the family has to take food with them everywhere. On some days the child can’t eat wheat, other days milk. But the child is thriving! He is learning at an incredible rate. His behavior is no longer a problem.
My daughter is mildly hyperactive. For the past 4 months we’ve tried behavior therapy. Her counselor has advised me, helped me, and guided me. I want to give her a normal life. I’m a single mother, and I don’t have the ability to pull her out of school, and guide her myself. Instead I must trust her to the system.
Personally, I believe her behavior is more a reflection of our school system, than anything wrong with her. But just as you would fix a child’s teeth if the grew straight out of their mouth because the child would get teased, I need to give her the tools to help her fix her behavior. I can’t go taking wheat out of her diet, or restrict her intake of milk. To help her have a normal life, what I can do is give her a tiny little pill in the morning, and have the nurse give her one in the afternoon.
I have to admit, the medication is amazing. It’s a stimulant, and it works on her brain. It doesn’t calm her down! Believe me, if anything, the child is more alert than ever. Watch out what you say around her when she’s had her med’s. Because she hears every word, and can file it away for later use! Nope, medicine doesn’t dope her up, or turn her into a zombie. Instead it turns her into Miss Focused, and dangerously smart!
The road started about two years ago with her brother actually. The teacher felt that my son showed signs of ADD. And I thought the teacher needed a serious slap upside the head. In no uncertain terms I told the teacher, and counselor this. My son needs a firm hand, and responds well to authority, and encouragement.
I talked with a really good friend, a fellow single mother. My friend is a nurse, and when the school called her saying her eldest needed medication she told them where to put their opinions. Her child, despite being a good kid, continued to have problems. She found the best Neurologist in town, and soon found herself with a diagnosis of Aspersers and Hyperactivity. On medication the child reported, Mommy, my mind is quiet. She felt horror knowing that her child had been struggling with a condition that couldn’t be controlled, and she had allowed him to suffer with it for that long. She told me, if my kid had had a seizure, I would have put him on medication. But here he was, trying his hardest, and he couldn’t do it. I denied him medication.
Another friend, a stay at home Mom has a brilliant son. The child was reading around the age of 3. He started kindergarten the most excited little boy you could imagine. He was thrilled to pieces to find a classroom full of things to learn and study. Words on the walls to be read, books to study, numbers. It was just a treasure trove for this excited little boy. But this brilliant little boy soon found himself in trouble every day for getting out of his seat, for experimenting, and doing the things a only a brilliant 5 year old could think to do. Instead of rising to the top of the class, he sunk. The mother took him to a holistic doctor. Behavior therapy, changes in nutrition, vitamins, a strict schedule. The child felt a compulsion to move all the time, so the Doctor gave him a small rock to move in his hand. In the end, the mother had to pull him out of public school. Now they home school. Due to the nutritional needs, the family has to take food with them everywhere. On some days the child can’t eat wheat, other days milk. But the child is thriving! He is learning at an incredible rate. His behavior is no longer a problem.
My daughter is mildly hyperactive. For the past 4 months we’ve tried behavior therapy. Her counselor has advised me, helped me, and guided me. I want to give her a normal life. I’m a single mother, and I don’t have the ability to pull her out of school, and guide her myself. Instead I must trust her to the system.
Personally, I believe her behavior is more a reflection of our school system, than anything wrong with her. But just as you would fix a child’s teeth if the grew straight out of their mouth because the child would get teased, I need to give her the tools to help her fix her behavior. I can’t go taking wheat out of her diet, or restrict her intake of milk. To help her have a normal life, what I can do is give her a tiny little pill in the morning, and have the nurse give her one in the afternoon.
I have to admit, the medication is amazing. It’s a stimulant, and it works on her brain. It doesn’t calm her down! Believe me, if anything, the child is more alert than ever. Watch out what you say around her when she’s had her med’s. Because she hears every word, and can file it away for later use! Nope, medicine doesn’t dope her up, or turn her into a zombie. Instead it turns her into Miss Focused, and dangerously smart!
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