Memorial Day

It is Memorial Day weekend, and everyone asks, "What are your plans? Having some people over or going to a barbecue?"

We're going to a friend-of-a-friend's house for a barbecue and to listen to my friend's husband's band play, at least for a little while. The spousal unit is away till tomorrow morning and it gets tough taking all three of them out by myself, especially to an outdoor party. They all run off in different directions, but it's a kid friendly event so I am hoping to run into other people that I know, with kids that my kids can play with, so I can relax a little and have a beer. Or two.

Memorial Day marks the beginning of summer, the "official" beginning of garage sale season, and the end of the school year. Which are all good things to celebrate, yes? I guess it depends on how you feel about garage sales....I have a love hate relationship with them. It's like eBay in person. I have found some great things for a steal, but at the same time, it feels a little like trolling in the trash. I digress; I do that a lot.

I have to admit that it does make me a little sad to see how few American flags I see flying. There really aren't that many most of the time, but especially on Memorial Day, Flag Day, and 4th of July, it makes me a little sad that people don't fly flags. Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I have to say that ours is not up right now, because we have the kind that you screw into a post on the front porch, and the bracket broke. But as soon as the new bracket arrives, it will go back up.

Last night at Scouts, I gave a little mini-lecture to my kid and his friend, but I know some of the other boys were listening...I could see them watching, and I hope that it did not fall on deaf ears. At the end of the pack meeting, the scouts retire the flag while everyone salutes, and my kid and his buddy were horsing around, chasing the boy who was carrying the flag and generally being dorks. So I told him that I didn't like to see them goofing around with the flag and that it was very disrespectful to the flag. I just said that they needed to behave with respect when they were handling the flag and to show it courtesy, and I mentioned all their family members that were in the military at that moment....between the two of them, there were a lot. I asked them if they knew what the flag stood for and they had a hard time coming up with an answer, any answer.

So I helped them out a little and told them: it stands for our country, and everything about our country. The good and the bad, because there is both. It stands for freedom. It stands for opportunity and it stands for sacrifice. It stands for people who willingly leave their families, their own safety and security to fight and shed blood to defend our right to live in a country that gives so much to its people, and asks so little in return. It stands for people who would rather die trying, than to settle for less than. People who want a better life for those who come after them, and get up and do something about it. No, America isn't perfect, and we have made big mistakes. But there isn't anywhere I'd rather call my home, to live and raise my family.

OK, so maybe I didn't make that big of a speech to a bunch of eight-year-olds who don't get it yet. Not all of it, anyway. But it is how I feel, and what I want to think about, and reflect on this weekend.

So we'll go to our party tonight, and grill hot dogs and hamburgers, and listen to a band play while the kids get eaten up with mosquito bites. Well, maybe not, it's pretty chilly here still. And we'll go to church tomorrow and thank God for all the blessings we have. I will also thank those who came before, who gave their lives so that you and I could live and raise our families, in the land of the free and the home of the brave.

Today

I feel better about the events of the weekend. I don't know if it is a character flaw, a mom thing, a woman thing, who knows why but when I've been offended (and not in the way you might get offended by an dirty joke...not that I get offended by them, but some people do...but I mean getting really wounded) I feel this need to just stew over it for a ridiculously long time.

I cannot stand for people to think badly of me. Let me rephrase that, because I know that there are people who do. I cannot stand KNOWING that someone thinks badly of me. It makes me want to turn myself inside out to make them like me. Which, yes, I know, is ridiculous and juvenile and, well, human.

So, I stewed for a couple of days, and dropped a lot of money in a matter of less than an hour, thanks to the magic of Internet shopping, hoping to make myself feel better. The shopping didn't help me feel better, but now all the stuff has started rolling in, and getting packages from the UPS guy always makes me happy :)

What did make me feel better is the knowledge (it's always there, but sometimes hard to remember where I put it last time) that that person's issues are not about me, they belong to that person. NOTHING I could ever do would change the way they see me. I will never convince that person that I am not the anti-Christ, that I am a decent person deserving of respect and at the very least civility.

And I think the thing that bothered me the most about it is this: you don't have to speak every thought that you have. Think whatever kinds of evil thoughts you wish, but have the manners, the decency, the class to KEEP IT TO YOURSELF. Turn the filter on. I absolutely despise bad manners, rudeness, thoughtlessness, inconsideration. Whatever you call it, I cannot tolerate it. I'll never change her mind about me, but she will not change anything either by continuing to be rude and inconsiderate, except making herself look rude and inconsiderate.

There is a very good reason for the old saw, "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." Or, better yet, 'Silence is golden."

Why....

do I allow other people enough power in my life to make me feel bad? It's one of those unanswerable questions. If you read the self-help crap in books or magazines, they all say that other people can only make you feel as bad as you let them. YOU give them the power, and YOU can stop it anytime you like.

Well, that is a bunch of hooey. If you give a crap at all about other people, then they have the power to make you feel bad. And I guess I'd rather be a person, with a heart, that gives a crap, even if it means getting hurt on a semi-regular basis. But, it still sucks.

I spent some time yesterday in the presence of someone that I know does not care for me, nor do I care much for this person. And yet, every now and again, we must be in each other's presence because there are a couple of people that we both love, and don't want to miss the important things in their lives.

I felt like crap all afternoon and evening, and I still feel bad today. I dropped several hundred dollars in a retail therapy spree that did not make me feel better. I knew it wouldn't really help but I did it anyway, because I could. Griping and bitching about it doesn't help either....not in the sense that griping and bitching will change the situation. Probably nothing will change it. I am who I am, and that other person is who they are and we will always have to interact at least occasionally.

But I sure wish it would get easier to deal with. I am not a bad person and I get tired of being made to feel that I am not worth even saying hello to. Like I don't even exist. I think I'd probably rather be cursed at than ignored.

Oh, waaaah, poor me. I think I'm done with my pity party.

It's the little things in life.....

Not a huge amount of stuff to write, but I did have a great thing happen today. My friend Kim, whose son is in Seth's class (they've played together quite a few times) and who does recess monitor duty a lot, stopped me today to tell me that Seth has been playing kickball at recess with the other 2nd grade boys.

Now, you may ask yourself, why is that so great? Well, I'm glad you asked :)

Seth is the type of kid who wants friends and wants to play with other kids, but doesn't always know how to ask. For the last couple of school years, he's played mostly by himself at recess, because he hasn't been into the sports like most of the other boys. He's into Pokemon or some elaborate game he has concocted in his head, that nobody else understands, nor do they really want to. But for him to be included by the other boys, and for him to want to play kickball, is a major advance in his socialization. It may be a fluke and he may be back to playing by himself next week. But I will take it! Baby steps....

It's something to report in our group this week, if nothing else. And this afternoon, I took him to school for the First Communion pics and it just warmed my heart to see him horsing around with a group of boys, just like a normal kid. See? Labeling is SUCH a bad thing....it's even got me thinking he's not normal. But....I guess he isn't, is he?

Blah. Anyway, I had an incredibly busy but good day. Now I need to go start another book for class, and think some more about this paper I have to write that is getting scarier by the minute.

Catching Up

Here it is again, over a month since I've even signed in to think about writing anything. What's new in my world?

The oldest offspring has been diagnosed with ADHD (predominantly inattentive type) along with warnings of behaviors consistent with Aspergers syndrome and Non Vebal Learning Disorder. There isn't enough to warrant a clinical diagnosis, apparently, but enough so that the doctor made a point to put it in the report.

I have a ton of conflicting emotions. On one hand, I feel relieved, that there is at least part of an explanation of his "quirky" behaviors. On another hand, I'm sad because of the challenges he faces, and I have a problem with labeling kids. On another hand, I'm embarrassed because there is so much chatter out there about how most of these "ADHD kids" are just brats whose parents don't care to discipline them. And there is a part of me that wants to blame myself, as if there was anything I could do to that made this happen, or things I didn't do that created who he is. I am not putting him on meds right now, and we agreed to wait until we see how next school year starts. I'm so leery of the meds. They change the child's brain chemistry. Arguably, some kids need to have their brain chemistry altered, but I am not sure my kid is one of them.

We're in a group therapy thing at Children's right now, and it lasts eight weeks. The parents meet in one room, and the kids in another, once a week for an hour and a half. So far, it's going well for both of us.

But Aspergers? That is on the autism spectrum! I about fell out of my chair, I was so shocked. Yeah, he's what anyone might call quirky, but autistic? What the school psych said about Aspergers doesn't really seem to fit him all that well, but the Non Verbal thing absolutely makes sense. The poor child just doesn't get social cues. He's always been socially awkward and I've always written it off as shyness. But he hasn't ever outgrown what seems to be social immaturity, and I don't just mean a little bit immature.

Anyway, I'm trying to figure out what our next step is, but does there really need to be a next step? He's doing alright for now. I think I might just let the poor kid be, over the summer.

Spring quarter is a fair amount of work for me....math and a higher level history course. I have a 15 page paper as my project in the history class, which should prove interesting. Math sucks, like it always does. I'm just trying to survive this last class, then I never ever have to do it again. I almost don't care what my grade is either. I do care, but then again, as long as I pass.....

Turned down a part time gig at work yesterday. I thought, sure, I can squeeze in two days a week. Yeah, no. Between the husband's crazy schedule, the kids' activities and school, it ain't happenin'. It's just too much. I felt bad for about a second, then I was relieved I had said no.

And now I must be off to finish reading a book for class tomorrow. My professor expects an intelligent discussion. It's funny....last year, he was the TA for the history professor I had for American History, and this year he is a brand-new PhD and a professor in his own right. And I know, that I know, that I know, that he is younger than me.

One foot in the past

I am really thinking lately about some things that have happened in the fairly recent past and I can't seem to get them out of my head. If I bring these things into the present by continuously thinking about them, are they part of the past or part of the present?

It does no good to go back and try to relive things that happened before....you can't change anything about them, and they are no longer real. It's not really happening again, so it can't cause more pain, or more happiness. And yet you can't argue the fact that just the act of thinking about something can call up intense emotion, almost as if you were living the experience again.

My one girlfriend is so Zen about it, she says, just let the thoughts come and let them go. The situation isn't going to change, you know that. So let them come and let them go, and don't beat yourself up about it. They don't seem to be going though.

I don't like not feeling able to go to church on Easter. The thing that I love most about being in church (when I am not with the kids) is the peace....I feel like I am the only person in the whole room and I have God's undivided attention.

So we'll go to brunch for Easter instead of church.

We're also going on a short little road trip for spring break...I am so looking forward to a change in scenery. We're not going far but there is a hotel with an indoor water park involved so the kids will be in heaven. There will some stores to wander through, so my consumer heart will be glad. And hopefully there won't be any school or work stress that we bring along with us.

I have to finish stepping forward into the here and now, and leave the past in the past.

Yeah, so....

I seem to remember saying I was going to make a point to blog more, and look. Two months later, I finally get around to it. And I still don't have much interesting to say.

Winter quarter truly sucked. Out loud. MEGA stressful. But thankfully it's over. Math and science are not my thing, at all, and I had statistics and physics. Blech. I finished finals Tuesday night around midnight, and Matt, bless his heart, spent almost as much time as I did, helping me and just providing moral support. I should have two B's for the quarter, maybe an A in stats. I rocked the final, much to my surprise.

Matt has been working nearly every weekend for the last three months. And April seems to be stacking up that way too. I'm about sick to death of being the sole sports/scouts/going to church with all the kids/birthday party/playdate shopping/errand runner on the weekends. I know it's his job, and he has to go to work sometime (I'm not about to, just yet!) but come on! It seems the only time he is off on the weekend is if it's my drill weekend, or if he is sick. He did call in sick last month but still.

Hmmm, what else? This is why I don't blog very much....nothing interesting to say. I think I must still be brain dead from finals.

Today is Good Friday and I would love to go to Mass today, tomorrow, Sunday. But I can't all three monkeys to church for the really long Masses that happen during Holy Week by myself. They won't survive, and I will end up in trouble. I don't like going to Mass on Easter and Christmas anyway, the church is SO crowded and people who don't have kids come fill up the cry room and then give me dirty looks when I come in with my kids. Kids are why they invented cry rooms and I try to take advantage of it, so that when they make noise, as Conner inevitably does, it disturbs as few people as possible.

What a boring post.