School days

So I have this student. We'll call him Charles L. Ron, or Elron for short. He's a little snot. What you might call a "troubled child." Always has an attitude, mouths off to teachers, occasionally bullies and tries to be sneaky and get away with as much as possible.

And I "get" him.

I have no idea why, but I do. I was the exact opposite in school - goody-two-shoes suckup. But for some reason I seem to be able to get more out of these troubled kids. Elron and I have an understanding - I always let him know how much I care about him and his success, no matter how much of a front he puts up, and he will do what he can to be respectful in my class.

He has grown up a bit since last year, and the behaviors he's showing in class are much better than then, and even better than they were when he first joined my class. So I decided he needed to be recognized. Because this kid needs loving attention and positive praise like no other kid I've ever met. (Ok, that's a total lie, but he needs it badly.)

I think I get more out of these kids because I let them know that I love them, I keep expectations clear and specific, and I don't talk down to them. When Elron screws up, I tell him he has screwed up, I explain why, give him a consequence appropriate to the situation, give him a minute to cool down, then I let him know that I still care about him and that whenever he cools down he can start working on whatever he was working on before the screwup. In the last month, this has worked so well that he has been voted student of the week by the class, received treasure box from the principal, and now, today, he was called for Good Citizen. Which is a huge deal - it only happens once or twice a month and only to one kid per class.

I don't think everyone was happy about it - there was a huge uproar at the assembly (the kids were totally shocked, apparently), and one of my friends' students told her, "But he's mean! He picks on me on the bus!" Which is probably true - I wouldn't put it past him. He is trying so hard to fit in somewhere that he thinks being the bully is how he can do it. I don't think many people tell him what a great kid he really is.

With these kids, it's all about the baby steps. I've seen improvement in MY CLASS. Therefore, I chose him from MY CLASS for an award that celebrates student's achievements.

You should have seen the look on his face. He hugged our principal, he waved that certificate around like it was the Olympic Torch, and he grinned like his face would split. He came back and hugged me too, and I don't think I've seen him happier.

It's all about the little things. One victory here means one more victory there.

Baby steps.

Hehehe...

see more puppies

Still here

Ugh. The cough is still around. And it's drier, which means I'm hacking my brains out to hack something up that just. isn't. coming. Yay me.

I am so tired of constant-busy-non-stop-doing-SOMETHING-all-the-time days. School is nuts - I have no downtime, I have to leave earlier than I used to, and I'm not getting as much done. I get home and it's a constant rush of getting dinner, kids bathed, laundry done, breakfast pre-made and clothes laid out or put on the kids ahead of time. Right now is the first 5 minutes I've had to myself all day long - and I didn't get home until 6:45 because I had a meeting that lasted until 5:30 (I left early, actually, because I had to pick up Alex), then I had to take care of my parents' dogs (while they're in HAWAI'I. Grr.). You'll notice housework is located NOWHERE in that schedule. Aside from laundry - I'm proud of myself if I get one step of the laundry process done each night. But my floor needs to be vacuumed, my living room is a cluttered mess and my kitchen has dishes leisurely piling up in the sink. Yup, I could be doing those right now, but I think my head would probably explode. Scott worries about me when I get overwhelmed like this and starts telling me to sit down and that he'll do this or that. Thank god, because I'd go nuts if he didn't.

Anyway, I just needed some downtime to vent. It's not like we can change much right now - we can't afford for me to quit work, so this it shall be. For awhile anyway. Gotta run - showering and more laundry to do.

Blah.

You know that kind of cough that makes your whole body shake and quiver while you're trying so hard to get something gross and mucus-y out of the back of your throat that you feel like you're going to die?

Yeah, it isn't THAT bad.

Yet.

But knowing that my mom has pneumonia makes me want to shout, "Hooray! Body-wracking spasms here I come!"

I'll let you know if I survive.

A tree on a hill

Scott: Dude...Mouth, Gigi, Millie...two hot women, geeky guy...there's hope for me yet!

Me: ...

Scott: You know, for my closet wife.

Me: ... (gets up and leaves)

Scott: Wait! I was SO kidding!

Me: I am SO blogging about this!

Hehehe...

OMG, I'm so proud of my young self. As I'm reading through my old diary, even when I was as young as 10, there are NO spelling or grammar mistakes. My god, I'm a dork.

Okay, seriously? Here's an excerpt from October 7, 1991 [current thoughts, anecdotes and painful realizations from myself now to my self then in brackets]:

"Today was my last day at riding [lessons] (for awhile anyway). I'm really gonna miss Tenny [Ten-Spot, the horse I always rode]. I don't know when I'll be going back. Mom and Dad say I have to prove to them I'm more responsible and then I'll get riding back."

Seriously? I honestly don't know many kids who were more responsible than I was. WTF? The only thing I can think of is that I didn't make my bed or clean up my room like my mom wanted me to, but compared with some of the kids I teach every day, I was a frickin' saint. (I did get riding lessons back eventually.)

This one breaks my heart. And really embarrasses me, because it's the 19th entry in my diary, and the 10th entry about boys. I didn't think I was really that boy-crazy...

"12-13-91
Dear Diary,
Hi again! I'm back at riding. Turns out Andy didn't know a thing about the Nick thing [I have no idea what this means.].

But anyway, I don't really care. Nick is cute. So is Troy. So Is Charlie. But you want to know who is more adorable than any of the rest of them? RYAN. Yup. He hates me though. Actually, I don't think he hates me. He's just mad that I told everyone that I liked him. But, anyway, I don't stand a chance against Ellen and Stephanie. But, actually, I think the one I have to worry about most is Stephanie. Even Ellen is JEALOUS. Ryan's even talking about asking Stephanie out. [Who the hell is this Stephanie chick?]

You know, I'm thinking about giving up on boys. I'm not gonna have a boyfriend until I'm 32, anyway. Unless one pities me. [Ouch. Yeah, that pretty much reflects my self concept from elementary school on.]

I'm just sick of getting my heart broken. (I'm being too dramatic, aren't I?) But first it was Matt, then Jeremy, then Charlie, Troy, and now, Ryan. He DID like me, he admitted it. Matt was my boyfriend. He left for Sunset [Elementary School. This was in ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.].

Jeremy was my boyfriend. He dumped me. (Well, he didn't tell me he didn't want to be friends w/ me anymore, he just wasn't.) Charlie, now I know he liked me. It showed. [Poor guy. I don't know what he did to deserve what he got later...]

And then he became the most popular kid in school. Then I wasn't good enough for him. [...the fact that you're a neurotic over-analytical stalker psycho didn't have ANYTHING to do with it, did it, Marce?]

Troy liked (likes) me. I know it. I would have a boyfriend right now if my ?friends? hadn't hounded him. I know he likes me though. [Do you? Do you REALLY? 'Cause it sounds like you're rationalizing, honey...]

Well, so far, Troy's the only one I have any kind of chance with. Matt moved, Jeremy hates me (maybe, I'm not sure), Charlie's too popular, and Ryan likes Stephanie. Lord, why do you do things like this to me? [Holy crap, I talked to God. When did I start talking to God?] Don't you think I've had enough? 4 broken hearts since 2nd grade? [HAHAHAHAHAHAHA.... Whew...sorry...*wipes away a tear*...nope, here it comes again...HAHAHAHAHAHA]

I DON'T think I deserve this. Do me a favor please. Give Troy the courage to ask me out. [Wow, I'm still talking to God. Seriously?] That would be great. I really like him, but I don't know if he knows. If he did, I think he might ask me out. I need this, Lord. It would really help my self-esteem. At least I'd know somebody likes me. I'd really appreciate it."

All joking aside, it is really sad that so much of my own self-concept was tied up in the acceptance of boys. But damn, this is funny, looking back through the lens of experience. And it scares the crap out of me, because one day my little girl is going to start thinking like this. Or if not as neurotic and clingy, then at least being interested in boys. Whoopeeee...I can't wait. :-S

More later!

I seriously think too much.

So I'm reading Dooce this morning and she's posting about a book that was written recently about teenage diary entries. (Just the topic sent me into a fit of giggles - I have my pink ballerina slipper diary in the closet behind me - I may just import a gem or two in a minute.) This entry sparked something in me mainly because it illustrates the dichotomy between what we're taught and what we eventually believe, and the journey we take to get to that point. Dooce is undeniably a liberal, but she comes from a dyed-in-the-wool Mormon family and even went to BYU, and in her diary entries she discussed some very strong religious views she once had about gay marriage and other topics. In other words, she once was a very religious conservative, and now she's a very NON-religious liberal.

So having taken quite a similar journey myself (not on par with hers, necessarily, since she was and is a little further to each side than I was/am) I was wondering some things.

So it's a natural human tendency to rebel against authority. Which I think is a wonderful thing in the long run (not necessarily while you're parenting teenagers, but eventually, I mean) because it allows for freedom of thought and gives us the ability to develop our own belief systems. My question is, if you are taught something by your parents that they very strongly believe in, what are the chances that you will believe it too?

Like I've said, my parents were very strong conservatives - but they never pushed the religion issue. Now I'm a very liberal conservative with no religion whatsoever. One thing I have seen is that for those who begin to question the beliefs they are taught, the stronger those beliefs are in the people who taught them, the further away some fall from them as they grow. I have a friend whose husband's parents are one particular religion that is very much a "women cannot wear pants, can't cut your hair, must be subservient to your husband" type of faith. Once he got out of the house and was able to form his own opinions, he became an atheist. But a couple of his siblings are still active in that church. My husband grew up in an LDS household and still believes in God but is not interested in being active in the church, while his older brother is very active and the church is a big part of his family's life (Hi Kristy!).

So where do you find a balance? I'm always wondering how I should approach belief systems (politics or religion) with my kids. I'm tempted to just let the chips fall where they may since it was really important to me that my parents allowed me to develop my beliefs on my own. They aren't exactly ecstatic that I'm not a true Republican anymore, but they respect it. I do believe very strongly in some things but I don't want my kids to think that they HAVE to believe the same way I do. In fact, I would probably be happy if either of my kids chose to be the opposite of me, because that would mean I've done my job and allowed them freedom to choose.

One thing I do NOT agree with is ANYONE saying that there will be consequences for not believing one particular way. Which is probably why I have such a problem with Christianity and religion in general - for example, the whole Catholic idea of going to Hell if you're not Catholic doesn't exactly sit well with me. It just contributes to the whole, "I'm better than you because..." mentality, or at least that's the way I feel when I hear it.

I've always said that I will teach my kids as much as I can about all religions, and about the lack thereof (since I'm rather familiar with that one) and when the time comes, allow them to make an educated choice, hopefully avoiding bias on my part as much as I'm capable. I'm sure my in-laws would adore it if Alex or Emma chose to join them on the road to the Celestial Kingdom (does that need to be capitalized, Kristy?) and I'm glad that my kids will have them as a resource. In the opposite vein, I always make sure to tell my 4 year old when he asks me about Jesus that, "Some people believe this, other people believe this." Some would say that has to be confusing for a kid his age, but as smart as he is, I know he's taking it all in, and I hope it makes for a well-rounded kid.

So I guess I answered my own question. It doesn't really matter how far from your parents' beliefs you end up - it's the journey you take to get there. And the fact that they offered you the chance to make your own story.

Stay tuned for some truly hilarious diary entries from my 13-year-0ld self. One in particular that everyone who knows me will probably die laughing after reading. :-)

Seriously?

Dude, my Justin Hartley and Tom Welling pics are gone. I am SO sad. I guess I must have violated a terms-of-use policy or something.

Come on, give a girl her eye candy!

The things we do.

Hi. I'm Marci. Nice to meet you. No, I've been here before. It's just been awhile. There's this thing that happens - it's called "two kids" and "working mom" and "not taking a shit without someone coming into the bathroom with you."

In other words, life happens.

But I'm back, and it's really only because I'm taking tomorrow off. My mom is sick - pneumonia sick - but getting better now. She can't take care of Emma right now, and occasionally will have panic attacks or breathing attacks and needs someone with her all day, so I'm taking tomorrow off so I can do that. Which means that tonight I have time to bring my lovely bloggy friends up to date on all the excitement that is my life.

Alex started Tae Kwon Do a few weeks ago. It was rocky to begin with. Like, so rocky that when Scott took him one night he came home so pissed off at our adorable little snot of a son that he kicked Alex's binoculars and broke them. (They weren't on his face at the time, they were on the floor.) Which is SO out of character for my easygoing, nothing-bothers-him kind of a husband that it should tell you how frustrating Tae Kwon Do started out.

So we take Alex to his first couple of weeks of lessons and each time I'm getting more and more discouraged. Alex can't focus. So the half hour lesson is nothing but Alex running around at random, falling down all over the place (on purpose), giggling, talking out, turning around and looking at everything but the Master, running up to the mirror and putting his hands and face all over it, all while being 100% oblivious to the other kids in the class and how they are behaving.

This continued for 4 weeks. Each time I would try something else to see if it would help. We tried getting him to bed earlier and letting him sleep later. I tried taking dairy out of his diet. I tried rewards. I tried punishments. FINALLY I hit upon something that worked, and it worked at both lessons this week. Get this:

1. Make sure Alex is in bed by 7:30 the night before. If possible (and Scott is either driving in or working from home the next day) let him sleep as late as he can (which usually is not later than 7).
2. Get him dinner before the lesson. Since we have to head there directly from daycare, I go by Burger King, get him a hamburger with no ketchup (we're avoiding red dye this week), apple slices and milk (NOT chocolate, we're avoiding sugar as much as possible).
3. Get him a small treat of some sort and state what he must do to earn it. (No falling down tonight. No climbing on the punching bags. Etc, etc.) The kids meals make this easy - I just use the toy from the meal.
4. Clarify the expectations and consequences. If he climbs on the punching bags, touches the mirror or windows, or falls down on purpose, he immediately gets pulled out of the lesson for a one-minute time out. If he makes it through the lesson with less than 3 corrections for these behaviors, he gets his treat.

I don't know which of these things made the difference this week, or maybe it was all of them, but he had two awesome lessons in a row. He's catching on to the Master's instructions, he's learning the forms, and he's getting better. Holy crap, he's getting better. But damn, is this hard work.

After trying soccer last summer and failing miserably, I'm feeling a little better about this. I'm thinking organized sports might not be Alex's thing, which is totally cool with me - neither Scott nor I played sports after elementary school. I was involved in other things like piano, singing, ballet, gymnastics, swimming, horseback riding, etc. Alex is in dance, gymnastics and Tae Kwon Do, all of which utilize the strength he has (his energy and large-motor skills) and expend it in a constructive manner.

I'm happy with this so far. As long as he's happy with it, we'll continue. More activity certainly isn't going to hurt my hyperactive, energy-to-spare child. And giving him something to celebrate can't hurt either - he was so proud of himself after his lessons this week. Another little boy, the best in the class, came up to me afterward and said very sweetly, "Alex did really good tonight." I almost cried.

It's the little things. :-)