Discussing Divisiveness

If you are in the US, and even worse, in a battleground state, you know that the election coverage, ads, and rhetoric are inescapable. Unfortunately, some of that rhetoric is not appropriate even for my 14 year old to hear.

But he is in high school, and I know he hears about this stuff at school, too. My challenge is to explain to him what’s going on.

I’ve explained recently that I’m a political being. I can’t escape it. I’ve always been interested in social justice, and politically active, even taking the young kiddo canvassing in 2008, when he was just six years old. I also take him with me when I go to vote. It’s an important part of being a US citizen, and I want him to understand that.

I also want him to understand why The Man and I speak about the candidates the way we do, and why we feel the way we feel. It’s harder because I know we are in the minority in our county. In fact, there will probably be very few kids at his school who speak about our candidate with any respect.

And as I explain to The Boy about the importance of being respectful of others’ views, I hesitate. I understand many of the complexities in this cycle, but The Boy does not, and truthfully very few high school students probably do either. Much of what he hears at school will be parroted from what is discussed at dinner tables.

He does not need to respect the view that woman, minorities, immigrants, and the disabled are less-than. He does not need to respect the view that making unwanted advances or physical contact with a girl is just something boys do. In fact, those are things that I am actively teaching him are wrong and dangerous.

So, in these justifiably divisive times, what do I say? I say that it all comes down to being nice. We choose not to support the candidate who says mean things about people. Because that’s not nice. We start there, and work our way to the other stuff. The other stuff that I shouldn’t have to explain to my kid , but now have to because an adult on the national stage, nominated for the most powerful position in the free world modeled incorrectly.

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A Few Changes

Like I tell The Boy, change isn’t necessarily bad, but it is inevitable.

I’ve done lots of thinking over the past couple of weeks about this blog – you may have noticed my “radio-silence”. SimpleIJustDo has provided me a great place to share and vent, a small community of support, and lots of self-reflection. As The Boy gets older, I am starting to feel like he is becoming the steward of his own story, and although this has always been a place for me to write about me and my experience being a mom to him (and never meant to replace his own story), I feel like I need to take a step back.

Let me be clear: This blog isn’t going anywhere. I will continue blogging.

But, I’m going to concentrate on quality over quantity. I need to balance my need to share and vent, and The Boy’s right to privacy and self-advocacy. I may post less and try to interact more via social media (if you aren’t following on Facebook or twitter, now might be a good time to look me up).

This will also allow me a little bit more time to focus on my long-term writing goals, too, which involves novel-writing aspirations (wish me luck!).

I hope you’ll hang on and bear with me through this adjustment period. We still have lots to share. But we may do it in a little bit different forum or format. As always, thank you for showing interest in our story. I’m still amazed at how far across the globe my voice can go!

Much Love,

~Annie

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Not goodbye. We’ll see you soon!

Be Nice

I thought I’d post a reminder about my policies.

Up there, fourth tab over, 3rd bullet point down: “Be nice to each other and to me.”

If you choose to comment here, and leave only negative, disparaging, judgmental comments, they either will not be approved, or they will be deleted. I have no problem with someone disagreeing with me, what I write, or the actions of others about whom I write. But if you can’t be civil, you are not welcome here. Move along.

For now, I have set my comments to only post with approval. I will re-set them to more lenient settings when I am sure the nasty person who prompted this post has, indeed, moved along.

 

Thanks, as always, for your support! 🙂

Waiting for Sunshine and Roses

It’s been a tough week.

Somewhere there’s a list of life events that can bring you to your knees and if moving isn’t at the top, it should be. Moving into almost-finished new construction with only two adults, a pickup and a Hyundai wagon. In 90 degree heat. When one of the adults considers the other “a hoarder” for having stuff… Yeah, “stressful” is one word for it.

(Thank goodness for Poppy’s mad vacuuming and cleaning skills, and Grammy’s mad Boy-entertaining skills!)

And you’ve accomplished this monumental thing, moving an entire house in two days on top of constructing said paid-for home from the ground up, but you are surrounded by boxes and missing shower curtain rings, and where-the-hell-am-I-going-to-put-that stuff. (I swear I’m not a hoarder!)

Then comes an unexpected, HUGE bill in the mail to take the wind right out of your sails, and evaporates any semblance of excitement you had left, and you wonder how anyone ever gets a leg up…

Then one of The Boy’s best friends decides he doesn’t want to go to summer day camp anymore, and his absences begin to trigger meltdowns and anxiety every night and morning. The Boy lashes out and threatens not to go himself, even though he absolutely adores it.

And you’re supposed to go to work and do work things correctly when you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in over a week, you haven’t eaten since you opened that huge bill, and you’ve taxed your body to the limit. The worry and overwhelm seem to be taxing your brain even more.

Everyone around you is worried, too. Either about the same things as you, or about you, and there’s nothing to say or do. You just keep going. There’s no time or money to do anything else. And crying gets old. Deep down, you know this too shall pass, so you just continue to be until it gets better.

Not Enough Hours

Just a quick post to say that it will be a light week, blog-wise. We hope to move into the new house on Saturday, which means we not only need to get the house ready for us to move in (painting window trim, putting up a mailbox, installing closet rods, installing carpet, installing baseboards, and using lots and lots of caulk), we also have to pack up and organize the rental house (and the storage unit), all before Saturday, all (at least for me) in addition to the full time job (busy due to payroll taxes being due on Friday), and feeding and clothing my family…

Not complaining, just seriously leaves little time for writing…

 

Anyway, thanks for your patience and as always, your support. 🙂

Our House

This gallery contains 14 photos.

Last spring, The Man and I bought a lot which would put us safely within the boundaries of the high school The Boy was supposed to go to before the district abandoned the HFA program at his middle school. It … Continue reading

Tracks

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See the tracks in the picture? The ones heading toward the swing on which The Boy is perched? Look like tire tracks, right?

Nope.

They’re from The Boy himself. From walking and stimming as he does when we are home. And apparently he does it in such a repetitive fashion that you can now discern his route. The track on the right is for leaving the swing area, and the track on the left is for heading to the swing area.

Ever wonder why some of our kiddos get obsessed with train schedules and maps? With routines? Have wonderful memories for directions?

Makes me want to geotrack him…

To the Trendy Boys Being Catty

There was a story circulating Facebook a little while ago about a woman who had given a note to some mean girls she had overheard at a Starbucks. I read it, as well as all of the armchair quarterbacks chiming in on whether or not they would have done the same, and who the hell was this woman, anyway?

Well, she happens to be an author of a book about middle school relationships, and has developed a curriculum for social leadership in schools, so she kind of knows what she’s talking about. I knew plenty about middle school girls being mean, from my own experience, and from teaching middle school for so many years. I did not chime in and become yet another judge like so many choose to do these days. I read the story, thought about it, and moved on.

pexels-photo-87835Last Friday, The Man, The Boy, Grammy & Poppy, and I went out to eat as we are wont to do at the end of the week. We decided to go to a place that is a bit trendy, but also has good food, reasonable prices, and is a favorite among the hipster-ish crowd in the area, small though it may be. The Boy likes it because they have a tabletop multi-cade video game that he can play, and in fact chooses to eat at that table while he’s playing. As we’re eating and enjoying each other’s company, I watched The Boy get up to get more lemonade. And I watched as two boys waiting in line watched him, as well. They seemed to make particular note of his footwear (crocs), and begin making comments to each other.

As I said, I spent many years teaching middle school and high school aged kids, and as a teacher, you get a sixth sense about when food fights are about to go down, when a young couple has broken up, and when someone is getting talked about.

In the article I linked above, Michelle Icard, the woman who “spoke up” at that Starbucks had this to say to critics who questioned why she told the girls they were “pretty”:

“I think it’s an important part of the story,” she said. “I think that’s a way a lot of girls hide their bad behavior, by fitting in perfectly physically.”

And Heidi Stevens, Chicago reporter adds:

“I think that’s true of grown women as well. Heck, men and boys too.”

I know that’s true of boys, too. Down here, it manifests itself in wearing the right shoes (and shin-high socks, apparently).

Did I say anything to the boys? No. They were with their parents, I hadn’t heard anything concrete, and this is the South, after all. One of the boys was wearing a Coors Light ball cap, after all. I doubted Mom & Dad would be too receptive to whatever I had to say. If I had been alone with The Boy, I might have gone over to them and said, “I noticed you admiring my son’s crocs – they’re hard to find these days!” or something along those lines. But I was with my family, and they clearly wanted me to focus on something else.

I can only be thankful that The Boy was oblivious. And I am more certain that this cattiness crosses gender lines, and needs to be addressed more often at home, at school, and by perfect strangers at a Starbucks.

Slow Down

Yesterday, I had a real-live (paid) day off. It was fantastic. After the boys left I went back to bed for about a half hour, not to sleep, but just because I could. Then I got up and got dressed and headed to Panera to work on my novel revisions. I bought a bagel with cream cheese and a hot tea, and went to work. At about eleven, The Man called because we needed to pick out fixtures for the showers at the new house. After that was done, I came back home to a silent house, cleared off the dining table, and went to work again. It was glorious. I’m sorry there was no post yesterday, but sometimes a woman’s gotta do what a woman’s gotta do.

The reason I had the day off was because CPAs traditionally take the day after the tax deadline off. I didn’t know this until I started working there, but it’s much deserved. The past three weeks or so have been off-the-rails busy, and the CPAs work much harder and even longer hours than I do.

During that especially busy season, I have realized that I attempt to do almost everything fast. Every task is a hurried rush, I type fast, I drive (slower than I used to – it’s the South, but still) fast, and even at home, I eat too fast.  And I believe this started when I was teaching school, where you literally only had an hour to do all of your planning and prep, and only 25 minutes for lunch. Then the awful job at the boat place reinforced that with answering as many calls as you could, doing way too many tasks simultaneously, and not even taking a lunch break.

These rushing behaviors are leftover, but ingrained. I have decided to consciously slow down. Even with the tax deadline looming, I knew everything would get done, and I down-shifted my speed to a more sane level. It will take some work, but  I think it will be worth it in the end, if only for my health and well being.

My new mantra: “Be the sloth…”

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Up and Running

If you’ve followed the blog, you know that we are building a house primarily so that The Boy can attend high school with the friends he’s made in middle school. Since his program was dissolved, he would have to attend a high school with strangers if we did nothing. Coincidentally, building a house basically on his own has been a dream of The Man’s forever. He has done enough reno to understand how houses are put together, and he has enough contacts in the industry to get licensed professionals who are also friends to do the things he can’t do (like wire and plumb the house).

Well, it’s been a tough fall, dealing with a less-than-scrupulous contractor who cleared a quarter of our acre-sized lot and charged us almost $15,000. If you have no previous experience, this is quite an exorbitant sum for that amount of work, and the guy used to be a friend! We have agreed upon a settlement  (in other words, we won that argument), and have been able to move forward with the help of some fantastic weather. We may even have roof trusses up by the end of the day tomorrow.

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The Boy and I visited the lot yesterday evening to check it out, and he was delighted to see where his room and bathroom would be, even if he wishes it were upstairs like his friend’s room is at his house (ours will be a ranch).

The Man is working hard, sleeping hard, and probably overdoing it right now, but he is single-minded when there is a goal within reach. He hopes to have us in by the 4th of July. The Boy and I are excited, even though I see the bills on the other side. It really will be a dream come true for us.

And to top it off, when we visited the lot this weekend to make The Man take a break from installing 75 floor joists by himself, we suggested The Boy take a walk around the corner down to the end of the cul-de-sac. When he returned, he said that he saw one of his friends-who-are-girls. I thought he wasn’t quite telling the truth, but not two minutes later, a red minivan came around the corner, with a young teenaged girl pulling herself up to sit on the windowsill of the passenger side to say, “Hey!” and wave to The Boy. We suspect she may live a few doors down.

All kinds of reasons to be excited. 😉