Mom to the Screaming Masses

Just Get Out There and Do It

One hundred years ago, life was much different for women. In essence, they belonged to their husbands or their fathers. They really didn't have rights. They couldn't make decisions. I mean, they could decide what dress they wanted to wear, and what they wanted to serve for dinner. They could decide what to clips to wear in their hair, that kind of thing. 

A husband could beat his wife with no recourse. 

Most women didn't work out of the home, because their husbands didn't allow it. If women did work out of the home, it ceased after they were married. It wasn't "proper". Women didn't travel alone. Pants weren't worn, ankles weren't shown, bathing suits covered the body. It was expected that women had long hair, kept themselves covered and quiet. 

I would have stuck out like crazy one hundred years ago. Maybe. I dunno. I might have been too afraid. 

Tomorrow is Election Day in the United States. Although it isn't the BIG election, it is a super important election - although, really, every election is an important election. 

Are you planning to vote? 

There will never be a new world order until women are a part of it. - Alice Paul 

Alice Paul was an American suffragist and one of the main leaders and strategists for the Nineteenth Amendment to the U.S. Constitution which prohibits sex discrimination in the right to vote. Arrested and imprisoned multiple times in her pursuit of the right of suffrage in both England and the United States, Alice Paul worked tirelessly, along with many other women, to change the lives of women and to make history, to allow women to rights and the privilege to enter the voting booth, to cast our ballots as we see fit. In January 1917, discouraged by President Wilson’s continued opposition to the suffrage amendment, Alice Paul posted pickets at the White House gates—the first people to ever picket the White House. They stayed on duty in the face of threats, taunts, and physical violence. Using their banners, they asked, “Mr. President How Long Must Women Wait for their Liberty?” and “Mr. President What Will you do for Woman Suffrage?” Truly, she was key to the right to women's votes. 

The 19th Amendment was ratified on August 18, 1920, and women were given the right to vote, but not full equality, and Alice Paul wasn't through yet. She and the National Women's Party went on to work even harder for equal rights for women, and it was her passion until her death in 1977.

One of my daughters is 21, and I have been impressed and delighted to see her, over the past months, as she has asked, reminded, and cajoled her friends and schoolmates, to register to vote, to remember to vote, to educate themselves to vote. She's been my fiercest, most outspoken political child, and she's badgered all of us to know our stances. It's amazing. 

I have been heartened to see the number of people talking about voting, but equally unhappy to hear discussions from those who aren't even registered to vote, who say things like, "I don't know if I'm registered to vote. It doesn't even matter, I don't really care." 

PEOPLE DIED FOR YOUR RIGHT TO VOTE. 

Women didn't get the right to vote until 1920. African American males didn't get the right to vote until 1870. Native Americans were granted the right to vote, regardless of tribal affiliation, in 1924. (If I am incorrect on these dates, please let me know - I've looked and looked and everything I've found shows them to be correct.)

This election is so important. I don't talk politics here, I just don't. It's something I don't get in to, it's a subject I keep close and closed and private - but whatever your thoughts and beliefs, get out there and vote. You owe it to yourself. If you belong to any of the groups who have not been allowed to vote in the past, you disrespect your ancestors by neglecting your voting duty. 

If you are hesitant to vote because you don't know who to vote for, it's ok! Check out ballotpedia.org. It's a great site to help you discover the ins and outs of your particular ballot, and I found to to be very useful. 

If you need a nudge to get to the polling place, plan a treat for after. Take yourself to lunch, go for a manicure, get a fancy coffee beforehand, buy a new book to read while you stand in line. Bring your headphones with some really kicking' music, because you may be there for a bit of time. 

Just go vote!

I never doubted that equal rights was the right direction. Most reforms, most problems are complicated. But to me, there is nothing complicated about ordinary equality. - Alice Paul

 

Hanging at the Beach in the Chill

I went to the beach early this morning to try to catch the sunrise. 

I love the beach. I like it even better when I'm not surrounded by a bajillion and one people. 

When I go to the beach in the warm weather, I usually choose the out of the way beach. I drive further than I need to get to the less populated area, just so I can avoid the crowds. 

Today, I went to the public beach, and I was the only person on the sand. It was glorious. Cold, but glorious. 

It is hard to believe that two weeks ago, I was out there in a bathing suit. 

I got wet up to my knees, ended up covered in sand, and sat for close to an hour, just listening to the water and the seagulls.

 

It was amazing. 

The tourist parts of the beach are deserted and sad now, but the reality is that it will all come back.

Life makes a circle. 

Making Time for Clarity of Mind

So, about that

there are several things I do now, differently, in what I refer to as this new time of my life

which sounds more dramatic than it probably is but maybe it isn't because when you think, seriously, about ending your life and make the plan to do it

and actually almost completely go through with it and only one tiny, small thing stops you

and then you completely overhaul, well, hell, everything 

well, then, I guess you might could say it is indeed a new time of your life. 

One of the things that my therapist did was refer me to a general practice doctor - if I already told you this, forgive me. It all runs together in my brain lately. The general practice doctor was very, very good and not only did she concur that I needed some additional help with the therapy, and medication, but my Vitamin D levels were critically low, and my iron level - which had been at about a 7 - was currently about an 11, and so we worked hard to get it up because anemia can do stoopid stuff to your mind. She also found that I potentially have two other things of magnitude (currently working them out, it's all a work in progress)

but she instructed me that I needed to add daily exercise 

not so much for the weight loss benefits

(although, hell, I know I need those, because I have gained back a metric shit ton of the weight I so carefully took off 10 years ago and foolishly bragged that I would never, ever, ever gain - ahahahahahah, the world LOVES a braggart)

but for the mental health benefits. 

She told me that the exercise would help my mind. 

Yeah. I made that face at her too. You know the one. The one you just made at me. 

But I agreed to try it, even though I HATE the gym. I mean, I really hate the gym, which is funny, because I used to spend hours every day at the gym. I mean, I got my Black Belt, for crap's sake. I love boxing! I love Zumba! I just - don't love the gym. I don't enjoy running. I hate biking. Despise swimming. The weights? Blergh. 

So the thought of the gym left me cold. But I knew I needed to do something. So I started making myself go to the local rec center - which cost me about $100 for a one year membership, which was cheaper than anything else around. 

All of those college tours, man, they have killed my budget DEAD. 

There is a walking track, and although it's not fun, it is tolerable. So I've been doing that, while listening to my meditations from my therapist, first thing in the morning, right after I drop my kid off at school. The walking track at that time is full of older people, and I know some of them from my church. After I do the walking track, sometimes I go down to the pool, where they have a walking track and you can walk against the current. If I'm in there before 8:30, it's all old ladies. I'm usually the youngest by about 30 years (!), and they are fun to talk with, and they all make a big deal over me.

And I realized something. 

If I stay out of the weight room - which is full of muscle guys and younger women who are slim and buff and all people falling all over trying to impress each other - I actually like going to the gym. 

And then? I remember something else I liked doing. 

Rowing. 

It wasn't much, and this was only my second day, but 20 minutes to start felt really good. I felt strong. I felt competitive. I felt clean. 

And more importantly, it felt like something I wanted to go back and do again and again. That is the important part for me, to find something that I want to do - not something that I have to do, or feel obligated to do, but something I enjoy doing. 

I'm a social person, but I'm also a solitary person. So the combo of listening to the meditations and walking, and rowing by myself and then walking in the water and talking with the older ladies, seems to be a good one for me. For this week, anyway. 

Next week it might be something else. And that's ok. I need to be good to me, to keep myself in a good place. 

What are you doing for you, to keep yourself in a good place?

A Short, Quick, Funny Story about Perspective

I will be going to Japan for two weeks, and I will need to find someone to drive my youngest home from school. There is another family in our neighborhood, one with four daughters, ages 11, 5, 3 and 4 months. I told my youngest, who happens to be the only child attending the school for this, our 21st and final year, that I would ask this particular mother if she'd be able to drive her home from school. My daughter knows the family and likes them, as the mother was her teacher for a bit of time until the mother left to have a baby. 

The look I got from my daughter was horrifying. 

"MOM! That family? They have SO MANY CHILDREN AND THEY ARE SO CLOSE TOGETHER!"

I thought for a second - had I missed something? I ran a quick mental checklist. The mom had just had a baby, but it was her fourth, she was pretty used to this, her oldest was 11, she seemed like she had it all under control, everyone had their shoes on when I saw them, she smiled and laughed and carried on a reasonable conversation, she had her hair brushed - the mom came from a large extended family herself, so I figured she probably knew the drill, and I thought it would probably be ok. 

"You know, she only has four daughters, that's how many we have - and we had two sons in that same time frame as well. That's exactly what people used to say to me, all the time."

"MOM. They have SO MANY KIDS AND THEY ARE SOO CLOSE TOGETHER!" 

"No, not really. Don't you remember all the times that I pulled up to the school and all six of you jumped out? I mean, really, when she pulls up, they are really only dropping two kids off! It's just like a normal family."

My daughter didn't get it. She didn't understand. To her, what she remembers are the last couple of years, when it was her and her sister. The big kids have been long gone since she was in the early years, and even the middle kids gone for several - it's just been her closest sister, and maybe, if she stretches, she can remember the brother above her sister. So she has no real time frame to remember what the big kids will never forget - the mortification of the Big White 15 passenger Van, trundling up to disperse six kids in Catholic school uniforms, jumping out with backpacks and lunch boxes. 

This is our last year in the Catholic preschool/elementary/middle we've used forever. It is our 21st year there, and although we have all grown up a lot there, I think I have grown the most. I mean, sure, you expect the kids to change the most. But when I think back to the mother I was at first, and the mother I am now - I don't even recognize myself. I am much more self assured in many cases, much more aware of who I am, what my responsibility is as a parent, and I am much less apt to be kowtowed by a teacher or administrator simply because of the office. I am less apt to take a bunch of shit just because, if that makes sense. I've seen a lot more than I ever would have imagined I'd see, been surprised by more than I would have anticipated, startled by things I never imagined, and let down by people I never thought would disappoint me. I've embarrassed myself countless times, been treated rudely, and realized that at the end of it all, teachers and staff are just - people. 

It's a weird place to be in. I see all the new moms, the moms with the tiny babies and the little preschoolers. I barely remember that time in my life. I don't remember corralling kids at the playground - well, a bit, I do. Now I'l reminding people to take their meds and wash their faces and call the dr and grab their computers and charge their phones and check their lunch balances and did you connect with the burser and do you have money for the light rail and what are your weekend plans? 

Time changes the way you look at things. 

Be Vocal

I was working the BlogHer conference for the past week in sunny Orlando, and was delighted to be able to spend time in one very special session with one very special client. 

Be Vocal - Speak Up for Mental Health. 

(This is not a sponsored post. I am not being paid to write this post, although this is a client of mine - I just SUPER HAPPEN to believe in this so VERY, VERY much, as you will see in just a few sentences.)

Be Vocal is a partnership between Demi Lovato, who is living with bipolar disorder, five leading mental health advocacy organizations and Sunovion Pharmaceuticals Inc. Which sounds SUPER boring and like nothing you'd really want to be a part of, right?

But. 

Watch this. Maybe grab your lunch or dinner, or a snack, and sit back and watch this. 

I was lucky enough to meet the three stars of the video after watching this, and I will tell you that I stood in that room and I cried. 

Me. I cried. I am not a cryer. 

But I have kids - plural - who have diagnoses - plural - and I saw us - plural - in this movie. 

One of my daughters has a dog, and she's decided to train her dog to be a therapy dog, so as to help with some issues, and there's such a fine line that I can't cross here, because it's not my life and it's not my story, but at the same point in time

how do you reduce and remove the stigma that those with mental health issues far every day? I don't know. If I did know, I would do it in a heartbeat.

Jeff Fink, who is portrayed in the video, has an organization called Go Fetch Wellness. I talked to him extensively about my daughter and her dog, probably - definitely - overwhelming the poor guy and his super cool dog Earl. I'm super interested in learning more about his organization. 

Go and watch the movie. Please. It's really, really amazing. I promise that you will not regret it. 

A Eulogy of Sorts

I worked a funeral this week for my church mentor, Edith. She was a fantastic, wonderful woman who worked as a sacristan, was at church every single day and for just about every single Mass, and was unfailingly cheerful, friendly, and just - overall, an amazing person. 

When the priest gave the homily, he said the following about Edith:

When I saw that Edith was in charge at an event, I knew it was going to go well. I knew that I could relax and enjoy, because she was here to make sure that everything went smoothly. She was exceptionally organized.

These three sentences are not three sentences that could be attributed to me.  

I try to be organized, and in fact, I think I am reasonably organized. Reasonably being the key word in that sentence. I have a big wall calendar - this was the first year for the BIG calendar, and I told my husband today that this was a great thing that I need to move forward with for next year - and I cross check it with my Google calendar and everything, literally everything, goes on both of those. I use my phone for every damned thing under the sun. 

(I have to tell you that the thought that a big family is one of chaos and disorganization is an exponential driving force in my life. I know that the stereotype of a big family is out of control people running willy-nilly all over the place, wearing out of season clothing, with mismatched socks and unbrushed hair, drinking milk from the carton and eating donuts for breakfast. So I have always, always worked extra diligently to make sure that my kids look pulled together and have the things that they need to succeed. I have, in many instances, taken a lot of time to keep my kids on the same level as their peers who don't have siblings or have a smaller family. I have never wanted it to be said that my kids suffered because they came from a larger than typical family size. Having one of my children tell me that she had been told in a meeting that she wasn't going to be allowed to say that she didn't have the correct socks or her homework wasn't done because of her big family - well, truth be told, that got under my skin. Because I have never, ever told my kids to say that, and if I had ever heard of them using that excuse - I'd probably need to be arrested for my response. That day my kid told me that she was told that - well, I had to remind myself that not every thing is about me and let it go, because I almost, almost lost my cool over it.)

Anyway. Sorry, I got fired up there. Moving on. Segue.

I hope to be a person people can rely on. I want to be that person, the one who holds it together, the one who makes sure things are done when they need to be done anyhow they need to be done. I want to be the person people are happy to see at events, because they know that I will bring something to the table, something meaningful and constructive, something tangible.

I just wonder if that can be done when there are still kids in the house.

Are the two things counter? 

 

Random Things I Think My Kids Need to Know

I wanted to title this "XX number of things" like they tell you to, in order to make your post SEO friendly and searchable and increase the chances that it might go viral

but I couldn't think that far ahead to determine how many things I might want my kids to know before they (please, God, sometime in the next couple of years) start to move out of the house. 

(I have this one kid who takes it as an insult when I say that my focus is for the older ones to move out soon - look, I get it, I understand, it's expensive out there and no one wants to make a mistake, and no, I'm not SHOVING anyone out and yes, it will certainly be different around here when people start to move out, but ultimately, that's my goal as a parent - to raise self sufficient people who can and will be good adults who can survive on their own. Not just because I want the never ending dish stack and laundry pile to go away, or stop hauling in bags and bags of groceries, or paying enormous water and power bills.)

But yesterday, when my adult daughter asked me if I could show her how to put air in her tires - hey, different skills come in different times, and maybe your kid knows this and my kid knows something yours doesn't, it's all cool - I realized that this was one of those THINGS. You know, the adult things. The things that everyone needs to learn how to do before they can be considered an adult. 

On this list used to be navigate a map - and I still think that is an important skill - but you may not ever need to look at an actual, honest to God paper map anymore. Everyone has a smart phone and Google has taken over the world and you can get turn by turn directions to any location you might want to visit - but i still think people should learn to read maps.

Definitely this week we determined that everyone needs to be able to put air in a flat tire. I know how to change a tire but I've only done it once and I'm not certain that, should I need to do it, I could - but that's why I have roadside assistance.  And there's no harm in that, even though some people might talk down on it.

At one time, I might have said roast a chicken - but, you know, you can buy a rotisserie chicken at any grocery store, at any time. That said - there is something awesome about making your own chicken, and if you buy it on sale, it can be cheaper - so, maybe, this one stays. 

What about cutting UP a chicken? That seems like a no brainer - no one does that any more, do they? This is one that I wish I could do. 

Parallel parking - I use it all the time, but depending upon where you live, you might never use it. 

Balancing a checkbook - well, not many people use an actual physical checkbook anymore - but maybe the knowledge and the skill to know how much money you have at any one time, and how to live inside the parameters of said money is more important. Saving for something you want is a good skill too. 

Being organized. That's a big one, and one that has taken me many years to somewhat master - I say somewhat because there are vast swaths in my life that remain chaotic and frenetic - but organization helps in so many ways. 

Getting enough sleep. A kid of mine asked me last night, "What, you think I'm a 12 year old? I don't go to sleep at 9:30!" No, maybe not - but maybe you should. Once I used to think that it was cool and hip and adult to be able to stay up until the wee hours, to get by on as little sleep as possible. Now I know that it's not cool to look like a meth addict, sleep helps your body build and repair and saves your skin and helps your immune system and an entire host of things that I never dreamed were important. I also have learned that there is a lot of value to a sleep routine and that your sleep discipline says a lot about your life overall. 

Hmmmm, what else would I say is important for my kids to know? 

Getting out of the house in an organized fashion, with everything you need for success in the upcoming day. 

How to wash clothes, put them away, press them and in general - protect the investment you made in what covers your body. 

How to entertain without making everyone around you an irritable mess - still working on this one myself, thanks. 

Some things are random and totally dependent upon where you live - how to navigate public transit may be necessary to one and not another. 

Getting along with a boss. That's a good one. How to deal with coworkers, that's important too. How to be kind, how to get along with people who think differently than you might, also valid. 

How to face adversity without becoming a "Woe is Me" caricature of themselves. Immensely important.

How to order a pizza, pick it up and pay for it - or accept it from a delivery person and calculate a tip - tremendously necessary.

The necessity of washing your bedsheets weekly. The importance of fresh air and sunshine for your mental health.

Taking vitamins helps seal in the cracks in your diet.

How to have fun. Probably tops on the list.

What do you think is important for kids to learn as they transition to young adults and into fully functional and responsible members of society? 

The Truth About the Brutal Truths

There is a page floating around that really resonated with me. It's titled 20 Brutal Truths About Life No One Wants to Admit. 

Go read it. It's pretty good, actually no, it is amazingly on point. 

There's an awful lot in this article that had me shaking my head, and yelling, "YES!" at least four times to the computer screen. 

In particular, #'s 1, 5, 13 and 15. Those were the best ones. Let's talk about these four, in particular, because they dovetail nicely with some things I've been pondering for a long, long time now. 

1 - You're going to die and you have no idea when. 

Oooooooh, boy. This one. Almost every day, I say to myself, "Is this the day? Is this the outfit I'll be wearing when I die? Will I be doing something that will make me look terrible to those I've left behind? Will I know it's coming? Will I see the car that hits me, feel the pain of whatever happens, will I know at that moment that this is the end?

I'm so fun to take to parties. 

Seriously, though, none of us knows the date and time, but we all know that we are marching towards the end. It's not like a road trip, in which we can plan to pull over ahead of the needed exit to brush our hair and freshen our makeup - so we've got to be ready at any given moment. Live life the right way. (Which explains why the husband and I are in the process of having our wills rewritten. Tell me THAT'S not a fun time.) 

Which leads me to this thought I have, almost every day: What am I doing to make sure that I'm living my life the way I want to live it, leaving the trail behind me that I want to leave, and being the best me I can be? Most days, I'm thankful I get another chance, because for damned sure this day wasn't the one I wanted to end on. 

5 - Donating money does less than donating time. 

Well, thank goodness for this, because I don't have the money to donate. Seriously, though, I'm always perturbed when I attend events my kids are in - concerts, school events, etc - and there is an entire list of people who've donated monies at different levels. We both work very, very hard and make a decent living,  but there is never enough to do the things I want to do, kwim? If I could donate to every cause I wanted to, that'd be awesome - but since I can't, I donate myself. (Which, hi, some people may not want, but too darned bad.) I get it - every event, every function, every facility needs money to operate - but every event and facility and function also needs people to run their events and functions and facility. I firmly believe that volunteering your time is the rent you pay as a human being. Help out. Help when and where you can. 

Now, that doesn't mean you say yes to everything, and it doesn't mean you fill your time with things you hate. I enjoy funeral ministry, so I volunteer for that. Running the raffle - nope, not on my list. I like donating food to the food pantry and bake sales for fundraisers and such - I'm not so hot with the actual business solicitations. 

Everyone has a strength, so maximize it. But every one of us has time to share. 

13- Nobody cares how difficult your life is, and you are the author of your life's story.

OUCH. This one, a lot. I know that I sometimes, ok, maybe more than sometimes, like to complain, to let people know how HARD my life is, how I'm being put down by THE MAN, how I'm not getting those things I feel are coming to me. I complain and complain - and I see and hear other people doing the same. But what I tell my kids OFTEN, and repeat to myself DAILY - this isn't the PAIN OLYMPICS. Everyone has a hard time with stuff. Everyone. All of us are struggling in one way or another. And if you can't afford to do a big birthday party for your kid, or graduation trip, or buy that new sofa you've had your eye on - it's a sure and certain disappointment to you, and maybe those other people who live in your house - but it really doesn't affect the casual people in your life, and maybe - they don't need to hear about it.

AND THIS ONE IS HARD. This one, it burns, when you read it, and you puff up with all of the righteous angst and say to yourself, "They are MY FRIENDS. Of COURSE they want to know about my life, and how I'm struggling, and I just have to tell someone!"  I struggle with this, so hard. So, so much with the daily struggle. When someone says, "How are you?" - is it a social question or do they really and truly want to know how awful you feel your life is and how defeated you feel and how nothing ever seems to go your way? Maybe. Maybe not. Only you know for sure. Why are you sharing it? Are you sharing because you are genuinely flummoxed in how to handle something, or, maybe - are you sharing because you want their pity and their admiration and you really want to hear,"I just don't know how you do it!"

Only you know that. (My computer just corrected that to MATH, and that cracked me up, because Math and I haven't been close since high school, when he left me at the prom.)

Only you know why you are sharing and you are the only one who can decide when and how to share. And that author of your own life stuff? TOTALLY TRUE. The author? The author is in CHARGE, is in CONTROL - and you get to decide how to want to present yourself and how you want to be perceived. Not getting the respect you feel you deserve? REWRITE your scenes! Put a spin on it. Those people you admire? They work hard to be admirable. To live in a way that is uplifting and encouraging and to be worry of admiration. 

And the other thing I can promise about the Pain Olympics? Someone, indeed, always has it worse - and you don't know what life has in store for you. 

I am CONSTANTLY working on this. I haven't gotten better at it, but I promise, I'm trying. 

15 - Investing in yourself isn't selfish, it's the most worthwhile thing you can do.

Love yourself first, before anything else. Make sure you get enough sleep, you eat well and appropriately, you wear sunscreen and your seatbelt and your helmet. Do something every day, just for you. Read more . Wear clothing that is well fitting and flattering. Drink water - more water than anything else. Visit your doctor and if you need medication to live or function or be healthy, there's no shame in that game. Exercise. Get a hair cut and color your hair - if you want, if it makes you feel good. Spend time with friends. Dance. 

You are worth the time and effort, and if you don't do for yourself, why should anyone else? The way you treat yourself shows others how you should be treated, and how you will treat them if and when you become friends. You are a person worth friending, so friend yourself. 

When in Doubt, Just - Blame Me

I'm extremely decisive. Quickly, extremely decisive. It can be a very good thing - seriously, never allow my husband to pick a birthday card, it will take four hours and he will read each one, whereas I look at three and grab one and it's awesome and I'm done. 

Being extremely decisive means I make up my mind quickly. I do a lot of research on stuff, so might take a few extra moments, what have you - but when I have made up my mind, it's pretty firmly made up and I don't often change it. In fact, I would say, if I do change my mind on something, it's pretty serious. 

Today, I followed a prompt on a Facebook post to an article, published on Psychology Today. The title of the article was, Why French Kids Don't Have ADHD. 

You should maybe go read the article. It's well written, by Marilyn Wedge, Ph.D. 

I'm not a Ph.D. In the alphabet soup of life, I'm a No.hD, so maybe that makes Ms. Wedge more qualified than I am. I kinda doubt it though. She's definitely more book learned than I am, but I'm no slouch in the research field. And I'm definitely the expert in the six kids I have been blessed to have. Six of 'em. Six. That's half a dozen, and some days, it feels like many, many more. 

Some days, it doesn't. 

Bear with me as I go on a tangent - one which will be resolved fairly soon. I hope. I'll try to be minimally verbose. HA!

I have some pretty smart kids. One of my kids appeared, at first glance, to be a bit less smart. Not a dummy, just - average. Said kid was really, really quiet and didn't like to draw attention, and so we just kinda, you know, let Child X be. (If you think I'm naming names here, or even defining pronouns, you've got another think coming. My kids read here, and I know teachers and friends who read here, and I need NO ONE to feel bad - God knows we've had enough of that in the past several years.) In first grade, the teacher said, "Child X has some signs of learning disabilities. You should explore testing."

Oh, hahhahhahaaa - nope, I said. Not MY KID. Learning disabilities are for parents who don't know how to discipline, who want to be their KID'S FRIEND, and my kids are SMART. Kids with learning disabilities, well, they are just dummies. (Yes, I am FULLY AWARE of what a nincompoop I was back then, please feel free to remind me 100000 times. You aren't saying anything I haven't crucified myself with time and again.)

Second grade rolled around for Child X, and the teacher - a veteran teacher for more than 30 years, with 7 children of her own, said, "I really believe that this child is a beautiful and bright youngster who needs some testing for ADD and LD." Again, no way, no how. Child X was sent to third grade, and the teacher tragically died in the second month of school. The new principal taught in the class for two weeks until a new teacher was hired, and the principal called me into her office - she informed me that my child DEFINITELY had LD's and was quite probably ADD, and she arranged for us to go for educational testing. (This principal actually has her doctorate in Elementary education.)

This was not asked of me. It was basically a fait accompli. 

Well, fine, then. I'd go, but they'd show the school - my kid was FINE. NO issues. They were all WRONG. The testing was months long - plural - and took place in the school, out of the school, in the office - and was extremely thorough. 

Except that they were all right and I was all wrong. My kid was indeed ADD, and had a veritable alphabet soup of LD's to go along for the show. Well, fine. They could label him/her all they wanted, but there was to be no medication. NONE. I wasn't doing that. Wasn't having any part of it. I would work with him/her nutritionally, supplementally, and with as many work arounds and accommodations as I could - but no one in the world was going to put MY kid on some nasty, probably carcinogenic, definitely mind altering, medicines. 

God, I was so stupid. 

My husband said he'd had the same issues in school, and still felt like he struggled with a lot of them, and his parents were big believers in firm discipline. He'd been hit, spanked, made to kneel on rice, extra prayers, what have you. I was already no slouch in the discipline area, but I decided to toughen up even more. We instituted strict punishments, worked with positive rewards, money rewards, fines, penalties, chore charts, consequence jars, etc. etc. etc. We started boxing classes for the extra discipline, gave the kids (plural) extra push ups/sit ups for infractions. 

I was DETERMINED that there was no way my kid was going to have issues. I was the perfect parent, the one with the perfect kids. You see, there is so much social stigma against big families - and so many people who just believe with all of their heart that there is no possible way one family can meet the needs of all those kids, no wonder they are such a mess. 

Fourth grade - my kid was failing, and the teacher told me that Child X was so quiet, never asked for help, she never knew that there was any issue -  "I just never even know Child X is in the classroom!" Hesitantly, I did a tiny bit of discussion with the Dr., and we tried a medication for ADD. It didn't work, my kid hated it, and we went off of it. See, it didn't work, Child X doesn't have ADD. 

Fifth grade, we did accommodations as best we could, but it wasn't ideal. 

Sixth grade, all hell broke loose. My kid had a super sarcastic teacher and it was a teacher I wasn't a fan of, and we clashed quite badly - and things didn't go well for my kid. We had issues, plural. I spent an awful lot of time berating my kid for forgetting stuff, for not doing the things that were expected. I was a huge nag - but I was determined to be though of as a GOOD PARENT and good parents did those things and didn't have a kid who failed - and they CERTAINLY didn't rely on medication.

One day, when yet another book had been forgotten, my kid was so upset with the punishment that would be coming and the reality that the teacher was going to be upset again and that the mother was yelling AGAIN -

that Child X ran out into traffic in the middle of rush hour to get away from me and from it all - Child X hoped to be hit by a car. 

Read that sentence again.

Child X HOPED TO BE HIT BY A CAR. BECAUSE CHILD X THOUGHT S/HE WAS STUPID. BECAUSE NO ONE ELSE IN THE FAMILY HAD ANY ISSUES AT ALL. 

I cannot tell you what that did to me as a mother. 

I was a failure. 

We ended up at Children's Hospital, in the care of a very good doctor, who made it her first priority to read through the testing and after talking with both parents and child

recommended medication for ADD. And she virtually talked straight over me, when I spouted off about overmedicating and lack of discipline and not my kid and I am a good parent and People in France don't medicate their kids and ADD kids are not disciplined and their parents want to be their friends and it's a society wide failing and normal childhood behavior and she straight up told me to 

shut up. And every argument I had, every anti medication issue I had - she shut me down. And she got absolutely zero from recommending medication for us - she didn't even prescribe it. 

She wanted to help us. Because that's her business. She helps parents and kids who are struggling. To keep them from running out in traffic. 

And for the next several years, I have made it my business to research ADD and causes and medications and work arounds and accommodations and 504 plans and I don't have a PhD, but let me tell you what I do have. 

The knowledge that France isn't Nirvana. French parents aren't better parents and French society isn't better and I'm NOT a lousy mother and my kid, my kid - is a freakin' genius who happens to be twice gifted because Child X has ADD and LD's and a hugely high IQ - and Child X learns differently. 

And if Child X was in France, with a different parent - the outcome would quite probably be the same. Or maybe it would be different. 

Articles that say that the rise of ADD in America are the fault of overachieving parents who push their child and ask for drugs because they want better grades, that French families provide their children with structure and guidance and a firm hand - that only if we lived like this, we'd all Stay Gold, Pony Boy - articles that dispute the fact that there is something chemically wrong, articles that dispute the published brain scans and studies and diminish the very real struggles that some families have

well, I take extreme offense to those articles. 

As a parent who hates to fill that medication every month, and yet hates to see what happens without it, how it affected her sweet child to bring Child X to a point so low that the child had the beginnings of an ulcer and thought death would be better than getting into trouble again - as a parent who researches things like comorbidity between anxiety and ADD with regards to locating a medication that will work, as a parent who devotes hours to things like 504's and accommodations, buys every planner in the world, keeps a master calendar that would cripple a different parent - and to be told that all of the issues are 

because you aren't being a parent but instead trying to be a friend and that other people can discipline far better than you ever will 

Well, excuse my French

but Kiss My Ass.  

In Which a Random Comment Makes One Think

It was a random, off hand comment, made by a doctor this morning that made me stop and think. 

I'm still thinking about it. 

I went to have a varicose vein looked at - yes, I have a varicose vein, maybe more than one, and yes, I'm vain about it (haha) and yes, I'm well aware that this makes me an old person, as I was reminded TWICE this morning and whatever - and on the way out of the room, I made a comment to the doctor and he said, over his shoulder, what was probably a very casual 

"Don't be so hard on yourself. I just met you and I already know that about you."

and, yeah, I am. Super De Duper Deluxe Mad Hard on myself. 

The counselor I used to see, Sybil, told me the same thing. I have notes of her words of wisdom on my screensaver. 

In fact, in conversation with a friend Tuesday night, I even said the same thing.

I know I'm not the only one who does this - but I would probably guesstimate that I do it more than most. 

So, why? 

I think I fell into it as a self minimizing measure. Someone once told me that I was too confident, too obnoxious, about the things I do - and she found it to be bragging. 

I probably was bragging - but that is a super tough line. When is the truth about an action just the truth, and when is it bragging? Different people draw that line in different places. 

I know this about myself, and I've worked hard, over the past two years - since I saw Sybil (which was about a 6 month time frame for grief counseling) and she pointed it out - and I've had varying degrees of success. She encouraged me to weekly make a list of things at which I excel - and I try to do that - but I'm hesitant, because I'm always, always, always afraid someone will interpret it as bragging. 

Nobody likes a braggart. 

Self confidence in a woman, too, is different than self confidence in a man, I find. Women interpret another woman's self confidence as saying, "Look at all the things I can do and you can't!" We look on it as a reflection of who we are as individuals and don't feel as if we measure as well when another woman can accomplish (maybe easily, maybe not, you have no idea) things we cannot.

How to change this? 

For me, I need to change my entire internal script

And the thought of that is overwhelming. 

I also need to stop disparaging myself - I do it as humor, I think - and also as a sign to others that truly I don't think I'm all that wonderful

but I need to stop. 

Just - don't know how.