Tried and True

When I was in fifth grade, the school started a new reading program.  For each grade we were placed into a reading group based on our reading ability.  We spent half our day in that group working on reading, spelling and writing.   During the creative writing portion of the class I discovered a flare for writing.  I looked forward to that part of class every day.  Where some would struggle to write a couple sentences, I would write pages and pages.  My teacher took notice and recommended me for the GATS (Gifted and Talented Students) program.  This meant a lot to me because although I did not struggle in school, I was never an exceptional student.  It was then that my dream of becoming a writer was born.

In fifth grade, you don't really know what you want to be in life.  You go with what you know.  In addition to wanting to be a writer, I wanted to be a nurse.  My mom was a nurse, so it seemed like a good choice.  However, I discovered early on that blood made be queasy and the thought of assisting in a surgery makes me downright nauseous!

Through high school and the beginning of college I had other career ideas: A truck driver (I grew up in the era of Smokey and The Bandit); a mechanic (I love to fix things); and a teacher (secondary education and a math teacher, no less!).  One by one, I discovered these career choices were not for me. 

I hate driving long distances.  Driving across country in a big rig day after day, week after week, month after month, is not the life for me!  Cars are not the same as when my dad was growing up and tinkering on them in the driveway.  They are more computer than pistons these days and unless you have the proper knowledge and equipment, you can't just pop the hood and fix what's wrong.  Sure I could still work at a shop, but I never really had the courage to take all those courses with a bunch of guys who would look down at me.  As for teaching, the problems are multiple.  First, I stink at math.  Even though I was able to take the highest courses offered in high school, most of that can be attributed to my teacher.  She was excellent. Today I struggle with basic math concepts.  Second, kids, particularly tweens and teens, irritate the heck out of me! 

Over the years, however, my dream to be a writer remained.  It sat in the back of my mind waiting for me to pursue.  For a short time in high school I considered journalism, but quickly disregarded it.  Then, not quite 2 years ago I started this blog.  It was a place to pursue a writing career; give me adult contact when I was stuck at home running a daycare; and a possible way to make an income.

I have worked hard on my blog and did my best to market myself to the world.  At times, my family has suffered neglect in my quest to become a writer.  But, this weekend, I finally came to terms with something I had been struggling with for a long time now. 

When you hold on to a dream for over 30 years and never really pursue the possibilities, it can be hard to discover the truth.  It's hard to let go without feeling like a failure.  I realized, however, that this is not what I want anymore.  It was a childhood dream, and although a good one, not realistic for me.  It is time to give up the dream and move on with my life.

I know I am making the right decision, because when I finally accepted it, a sense of peace and freedom came over me.  I do not feel like a failure.  

This will be my last post here at Three Weddings.  I have tried my hand at the literary world and it is now time to be true to myself and my family. 

I do plan to keep my Twitter and Facebook accounts.  I enjoy the friendships I have made on this journey and hope to keep in touch.  As for my blog, for now, I will leave it here.  I may change my mind (although I doubt it) and although I'm ready to move on, I'm not ready to completely pull the plug.

Only Makes Us Stronger

Yesterday was crazy busy.  I spent three hours running errands starting at 8:00 a.m.  After I got Peanut to school, I fixed the toilet and was so excited that it went so easy.  It never does.  I should have known.  When I took off to get Diva from school, I grabbed the door knob to the front door and it came off in my hand.  Tonight I get to replace that!  I was up till midnight working on something from work because I couldn't get to it till 8:00 p.m.  I won't bore you with the rest of the details of my busy day, you have your own craziness to deal with!

As a result, however, I did not get a post written.  Instead of throwing something mediocre together, I thought I'd revisit one of my early posts on mothering a child with Down syndrome (or any special need.)

That Which Does Not Kill Us

I often hear from friends and family they are impressed at how I have embraced my daughter’s Down syndrome. They tell me they don’t think they could have handled it. The truth is, neither did I before she was born.

I have always respected my mother. She is a nurse and for the last 10 years of her career she worked at a nursing home. I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit that I hated going to visit her at the nursing home. All those old people made me uncomfortable, and frankly, I didn’t know how to talk or relate to them. My mother was amazing with them; always treating them as people, not burdens. In my previous “life” as a performance auditor I once had to audit the Mental Health and Retardation Department for the state I was then living in. My fellow auditor and I visited several group homes that housed people with various intellectual and physical delays. Although I found it difficult dealing with these people, my co-worker stated she hated being there and around all those people. She would shy away from them if they came up to talk to us, which they did often.

How interesting that just a couple years later my husband and I were blessed with our daughter. We did not know we were having a child with Down syndrome. We refused the blood test that would possibly indicate it. It wasn’t until the day after her birth that we were informed she most likely had Down syndrome. Obviously, we were in shock. We were scared. But very quickly we realized it could be much worse. The birth of our daughter has presented us with challenges that many of our friends have not had to face. I know we have many more challenges ahead of us; however, I would not trade her for the world. She has made me a stronger person. She has strengthened my marriage. She has given me a cause in life when I was struggling to find one. She has given my older children opportunities that they would not have had otherwise. Yes, there are moments of heartache. About a year ago we visited some friends and I was watching all their children run and play at an age appropriate level. My Peanut was not playing on that level and it hurt. It scares me to think of the prejudices she will face in life.

I now flock to people with disabilities, where before my daughter I might have shied away. I have to be careful with this because not all people want all that attention. I am no longer uncomfortable around people with disabilities or the elderly. I can thank my daughter for all of this.

God only gives us the crosses we can bear. Trust in Him and trust in yourself. How many times in history have we seen ordinary people do extraordinary things when faced with a difficult situation? We can all do it. We just have to have faith and an open mind. To all of my friends and family that have commented to me in the past they don’t think they could do it, I’m here to tell you not only that you can, but that you can do it with a grace and patience that will often surprise you.

That which does not kill us DOES make us stronger!

Birthday Snacks

Growing up, P.E. was not my best subject.  In fact, I was lousy at it.  I am not an athletic person and I don't have any athletic abilities.  As a result, I often did not see eye to eye with the P.E. teacher. 

Our elementary P.E. teacher is the epitome of that P.E. teacher I disliked so much from the past.  I've only met her once, but that was enough.  My girls are a lot like me in athletic ability.  They are never going to be a superstar.  But, to me, that's not what P.E. is about.  It's about having fun and getting some exercise.  I believe P.E. teachers have a stronger likelihood to play favorites than other teachers do.  It's simply in their competitive nature.

Last year Diva told me Ms. C yelled at her for not throwing the ball right.  I asked Diva if she was trying her best and that's all I cared about.  I've made it known that I don't put a lot of stock in their P.E. grades.  When Ms. C started sending home a daily exercise to filled out and sent in at the end of the month, it quickly went into the recycle bin. I've got enough homework to keep up with.

I admit, my attitude is bad.  If it comes from Ms. C I'm going to have a preformed judgment about it before I even look at it.  However, the other day when Diva brought home the Health Birthday Club, I couldn't help but laugh.  On your birthday, instead of bringing a cupcake or sweet treat, bring something healthy.  Here are a few of my favorite suggestions:

• Pasta Salad
• Soy Milk
• Water

Don't get me wrong, I agree that healthy snacks are a good idea.  The kids get to bring a daily snack for the afternoon and I try to make sure it is healthy.  But birthdays are special.  My girls already miss out on a lot of the fun because they have summer birthdays.  Diva can't even celebrate her half-birthday properly because it falls during winter break. 

I get the argument that there are 20 kids in the class, all bringing in sweets for their birthday, but that's still only 20 days out of the entire school year.  There's the argument that the kids are hyped up on sugar after eating it all and makes teaching difficult.  Fair enough.  Don't serve the treats until the end of the day.  I'm more than happy to take my sugar induced child off your hand. 

Teachers have my utmost respect and support.  I have seen the kids on party days and wonder how these saints continue coming back day after day, year after year. 

I've also seen school change a lot since I was in grade school.  Our children are expected to learn more and more at a younger age.  We are constantly pushing them.  However, they are still children.  They grow up way too quickly.  I say, let them have their birthday and for goodness sake, let them eat cake!

Parenting the Hypochondriac

The call goes something like this:  "Hello, mom, this is Michelangelo. I'm in the nurses office and I don't feel good.  I'm nauseous and want to come home."

"Are you sure you can't make it through the rest of the day?  You have to babysit your sisters tonight.  Are you up to that?"

"Oh, I can do that.  I guess I can make it through the rest of the day."

What do you do?

This time I went to get her.  It's the second time in only 1/8 of the school year in which this has happened.  The first time was because she didn't eat breakfast till after she got to school and was on antibiotics. A bad combination.

Michelangelo has a history of being somewhat of a hypochondriac.  However, I learned early on to not just blow her off.  I've cleaned up puke more times than I'd like to admit because I told her she was fine when she really wasn't. 

I've also learned that sometimes she just needs my attention.  If I feel her head, give her a bucket (just in case) and let her know I'm listening, it makes her happy.  This is not always easy to do when it happens all the time and, honestly, sometimes I fail. 

On the way home I asked her if anything was going on at school.  She gets good grades so I couldn't see it being that.  I was more concerned of social issues.

No, she was having a good day.  She just started feeling bad at PE and thought she needed to eat.  When she still felt bad after lunch and into History, she decided she couldn't make it through the day.

Teens. More specifically, teen girls.  Is this a sign of what I can expect?  I know from personal experience that there are times when, as a girl (woman) you just don't feel well.  Unfortunately, we have to power through on those days.  It's not a free pass to stay in bed.  If she ends up having cycles like mine, she's in for a rough path.  Doable, but rough.  I hope that's not the case.

When I picked her up from school I thought the office person was giving me that look.  You know the one. The "Oh, you just are going to give into her little whims every time she calls.  You as such a sucker." look.  I don't care what the woman thought.  If she calls again, I'll probably get her again.  It's a difficult time for her.  She's going through a lot, growing up, fitting in, finding out who she is.

Maybe she's not going to puke all over the floor, but she still needs her mom to care and I'm not going to let her down.  

Oh, but I also didn't let her watch t.v., play video games or play on the computer.  If you come home sick, you go to bed to sleep.  No electronics.  I'm not that much of a sucker.

Dustin' Off My Tap Shoes

Peanut started dance class again this week.  This year I signed her up for a daytime class and ended up with the owner of the dance school as her teacher.  I was somewhat concerned about this turn of events.  Last year, her teacher and aid were so patient with her even when she tested them constantly with her antics.  I got the vibe this might not be the case with her new teacher and was worried she'd get kicked out of class.

Once I got Peanut settled into class I decided I'd run home real quick.  Thankfully, I started talking with another mom because I was soon called back by the teacher.  Peanut was running back to the shelves that hold the stereo and other class supplies and getting into everything.  Her teacher wanted me to stay in the classroom to help keep her under control.  I admit, I was not too happy with this plan.

After class, I asked if there was a way to put up a gate to keep Peanut out of the class supplies.  I even offered to pay for it.  Her teacher had another suggestion.  When she has had children with special needs in the past, she has the parent dress out for class to help.  Since they are wearing dance clothes and dance shoes they are part of the class.  This way, I would not only be able to help keep Peanut in line, but help with the other kids.  When they see her dart off then they want to goof off, too. 

I was resistant to this idea at first. I wasn't sure if Peanut would think she could goof off more because I was there.  In addition, I was a little concerned what the other parents would think.  I told her we could try it, but I also wanted to ask Peanut's preschool teacher if she had any suggestions.

After thinking about it, though, I decided it really was a good idea.  After all, I volunteer in her preschool classroom and she is expected to participate as she would if I wasn't there.  Her preschool teacher thought it was an excellent idea as well. 

Now that I've accepted this idea, I'm really getting excited about it.  Since I'll be helping in her class I'm going to need dance clothes, right?  I have all these t-shirts I don't like to wear because of the way they fit.  But I have the solution!  I grabbed a pair of scissors and cut up a t-shirt Flash Dance style. I was so excited with how it turned out I went to ask Michelangelo what she thought.  Note to self: Don't ask the teen for fashion advice.  She's just great for my self esteem.  When I told her I was going to help in Peanut's class, she said, "I thought you couldn't dance."

I think I know enough to keep up with a bunch of 3-5 year olds.