Today some of you may be at home with your kids,waiting out the predicted and soon to arrive east coast hurricane. It is windy and grey and wet here, the wind is blowing, but it is only beginning to rise, I guess. Before too long it will be howling. As long as the roof stays on and the trees stay in the yard (roots DOWN), I will be happy.
I have the fire burning in the woodstove, tea in a mug and I am contemplating re-reading Harry Potter, because a stormy day is a great day to read fantasy stories. Mostly though, I am thinking of my girl. I used to love days off from school when she was small. We would play all day, make fun things to eat and read, read, read. We would get out Jenga, Monopoly and Mancala, start a puzzle, and relax.
Being safe together, at home is such a happy, magical time.
If you are home today, I am wishing you a day of giggles and pancakes for dinner, stories and a hug.
Monday, October 29, 2012
Wednesday, October 24, 2012
A Mother's Heart
I need to talk to you soon.
These are the words that strike terror into a mother's heart. Are you sick? Are you pregnant? Are you arrested? The mind shoots into problem solving for a tragedy mode.
I received a Facebook message from my daughter last night with those 7 words. No details. No explanation or other information. I immediately wrote back and outlined my schedule for today including that she could call me in the night, wake me at 5 a.m., that I would come home early from work to talk with her by phone or Skype (remember, she is in Spain).
Needless to say, I slept poorly, wondering what was going on 3500 miles away. Was I going to need to fly to Spain today? Was she coming home early? (I can hear her exasperated sigh now) When I got up and checked my email this morning, she said, "I just had a scheduling problem." Really? A scheduling problem? For school? Next term that doesn't start until after Thanksgiving? Thanks a lot.
Why doesn't she know that those words "I need to talk with you soon" are reserved for crises? I shudder when I hear those words from my own parent, or my boss or anyone else who has power in my life. They are words that are to me, harbingers of doom.
So, her scheduling problem has been resolved. I am not flying to Spain. My heart stopped pounding. Someday when she has a child, she will understand.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
The word "Kind" is underrated.
I grew up hearing regularly "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all".
Okay, so I have not always said nice things in my life. I have gossiped. I have said petty and unkind things. But, key to this is, I have not said them on national television or in the newspaper or on Facebook.
How am I supposed to encourage my child to be thoughtful, kind, considerate, generous and open-minded if what is available in popular media is all about ugly, unkind and petty? I cannot even bring myself to watch or listen to the debates during this election season because I can't watch the arguing and verbal battling. I can't help but be pessimistic about the future not of our government, but of our culture. I am sad, frightened and appalled. If the belief is that the best looking and the one with the best one liners wins, then who is going to be left? Is patience, tolerance and acceptance really not a part of foreign policy?
This blog is not really about my kid, but as she is old enough to vote this year*, I am wondering how she is supposed to understand and value the system in which we find ourselves. Kind. I think kind is highly underrated.
I know it is naive, goodness knows that my mother, who was the one who told me "If you can't say something nice..." has said that in hindsight that is not how the world works. So, how do we, you and I introduce the little darlings to the world at large and make "kind" count?
*As she is out of the country,she will not be voting. Considering that she was planning on voting to cancel my vote just because she could, I am not sad that she is missing this opportunity. Her decision would have nothing to do with her actual beliefs, but because she thought that it would be "funny". Needless to say, I did not mention voting absentee.
Okay, so I have not always said nice things in my life. I have gossiped. I have said petty and unkind things. But, key to this is, I have not said them on national television or in the newspaper or on Facebook.
How am I supposed to encourage my child to be thoughtful, kind, considerate, generous and open-minded if what is available in popular media is all about ugly, unkind and petty? I cannot even bring myself to watch or listen to the debates during this election season because I can't watch the arguing and verbal battling. I can't help but be pessimistic about the future not of our government, but of our culture. I am sad, frightened and appalled. If the belief is that the best looking and the one with the best one liners wins, then who is going to be left? Is patience, tolerance and acceptance really not a part of foreign policy?
This blog is not really about my kid, but as she is old enough to vote this year*, I am wondering how she is supposed to understand and value the system in which we find ourselves. Kind. I think kind is highly underrated.
I know it is naive, goodness knows that my mother, who was the one who told me "If you can't say something nice..." has said that in hindsight that is not how the world works. So, how do we, you and I introduce the little darlings to the world at large and make "kind" count?
*As she is out of the country,she will not be voting. Considering that she was planning on voting to cancel my vote just because she could, I am not sad that she is missing this opportunity. Her decision would have nothing to do with her actual beliefs, but because she thought that it would be "funny". Needless to say, I did not mention voting absentee.
Monday, October 15, 2012
The Money Tree
Money doesn't grow on trees?
I skyped with the child last night. (Hurrah) She is in Spain for a term with 8 classmates. As well as classes in Spanish, literature, history and culture, she has art with a local artisan, guitar lessons, athletic opportunities and extensive travel with the group. She showed me the sunglasses she bought for 148 euros. She showed me the jeans she bought that were "cheap". She has told me about the cafe con leche and the tortillas espanola that she has been eating at the local shop.
And...she wants to stay longer (Please? It won't cost that much more.). She wants me to come visit (I wish I could, and that she WANTS me to means everything to me). She wants us to go back and visit her host family next summer after graduation. She also wants to buy a car when she returns to the states (with what I don't know).
I have spent her entire life talking with her about "needs" and "wants". She knows that my being a social worker/childcare provider and semi-at-home mom means that I do not have as much money as some of the other kids' parents. We have had tears, compromises and most recently, a summer job. Still, compared to many, she has a pretty privileged life. And yet, the "wants" are mounting as graduation approaches. Considering that colleges and universities are in the 30-50,000. dollar range, the "needs" and"wants" are only going to show up more and more.
How to be enthusiastic and encouraging AND realistic is a challenge for me. I feel like I am the killjoy, the voice of doom, the "bad news mama" when I say, "Wow, we can't afford that...." again. Most of the time, she gets it and we don't have to battle every dime. She shops consignment and looks for coupons. She is frugal as can be with her own money. The "Bank of Mom" however is another story.
I hate worrying about, thinking about, talking about money. There is no fun in it for me. That she and I have made it this far is encouraging to me. She has a debit card and knows what happens if she overdraws (the lovely woman at the bank made this abundantly clear to her.)
Still, along with wings for the girl, a money tree would be nice. Don't you think?
I skyped with the child last night. (Hurrah) She is in Spain for a term with 8 classmates. As well as classes in Spanish, literature, history and culture, she has art with a local artisan, guitar lessons, athletic opportunities and extensive travel with the group. She showed me the sunglasses she bought for 148 euros. She showed me the jeans she bought that were "cheap". She has told me about the cafe con leche and the tortillas espanola that she has been eating at the local shop.
And...she wants to stay longer (Please? It won't cost that much more.). She wants me to come visit (I wish I could, and that she WANTS me to means everything to me). She wants us to go back and visit her host family next summer after graduation. She also wants to buy a car when she returns to the states (with what I don't know).
I have spent her entire life talking with her about "needs" and "wants". She knows that my being a social worker/childcare provider and semi-at-home mom means that I do not have as much money as some of the other kids' parents. We have had tears, compromises and most recently, a summer job. Still, compared to many, she has a pretty privileged life. And yet, the "wants" are mounting as graduation approaches. Considering that colleges and universities are in the 30-50,000. dollar range, the "needs" and"wants" are only going to show up more and more.
How to be enthusiastic and encouraging AND realistic is a challenge for me. I feel like I am the killjoy, the voice of doom, the "bad news mama" when I say, "Wow, we can't afford that...." again. Most of the time, she gets it and we don't have to battle every dime. She shops consignment and looks for coupons. She is frugal as can be with her own money. The "Bank of Mom" however is another story.
I hate worrying about, thinking about, talking about money. There is no fun in it for me. That she and I have made it this far is encouraging to me. She has a debit card and knows what happens if she overdraws (the lovely woman at the bank made this abundantly clear to her.)
Still, along with wings for the girl, a money tree would be nice. Don't you think?
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Beginnings
A new friend said, "Why don't you write a blog?". My initial thought was that I wouldn't think anyone would read about my babble. And then again, why not?
I have been reading adoption blogs recently. I think the reasons are many, but the biggest one is that my "baby" is getting ready to leave for college and I am feeling a mix of emotions. It is time. I would not do anything to hold her back from this next adventure in life. I am thrilled for her and a little sad for me. College. 17 years ago I brought her home from China as a ten month old baby. It was the two of us in the world. Mama and daughter. Two girls in the tub, in the house, in the world.
And now, she is off.
When she was a little girl, wings were a part of every outfit. She has a pair of white wings that were worn with pajamas, dresses, leggings and just plain underpants. My girl could FLY! We read stories about fairies (and later about broomsticks and Quidditch), we had a resident fairy leaving mysterious notes to be found throughout the house. Wings were essential wear to the grocery, for a walk through town and on the playground.
Now her wings are spread, if not visibly, at least psychologically. College applications from all over the country are spread on her bed. She is in Spain for a term. Last summer she worked away from home. Last Fall she sailed to the Caribbean for 10 weeks. All in preparation for leaving home. She is standing on the edge of adult life with her wings outspread. Yes, she is wearing wings, again.
I have been reading adoption blogs recently. I think the reasons are many, but the biggest one is that my "baby" is getting ready to leave for college and I am feeling a mix of emotions. It is time. I would not do anything to hold her back from this next adventure in life. I am thrilled for her and a little sad for me. College. 17 years ago I brought her home from China as a ten month old baby. It was the two of us in the world. Mama and daughter. Two girls in the tub, in the house, in the world.
And now, she is off.
When she was a little girl, wings were a part of every outfit. She has a pair of white wings that were worn with pajamas, dresses, leggings and just plain underpants. My girl could FLY! We read stories about fairies (and later about broomsticks and Quidditch), we had a resident fairy leaving mysterious notes to be found throughout the house. Wings were essential wear to the grocery, for a walk through town and on the playground.
Now her wings are spread, if not visibly, at least psychologically. College applications from all over the country are spread on her bed. She is in Spain for a term. Last summer she worked away from home. Last Fall she sailed to the Caribbean for 10 weeks. All in preparation for leaving home. She is standing on the edge of adult life with her wings outspread. Yes, she is wearing wings, again.
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