My first winter in New Haven was cold,really cold. There were record breaking snowfalls levels, and low temperatures were put in the history books during the winter of 1977-78. There was so much snow that students took the dining hall trays and used them as sleds to go down Science Hill.
All of the athletes wore hooded sweatshirts. After showering at Payne Whitney Gymnasium, they would put on their hooded sweatshirts to return to their residential colleges on those very cold days in New Haven.
I hate cold weather. I was born in the Midwest and was raised in a town that is cold and gray for at least six months every year. I should be accustomed to the cold but I still hate it. So when it got very cold in New Haven, I went to the Yale Co-op and bought a grey hooded sweatshirt with Yale printed on the front.
Today, hooded sweatshirts are sterotypically worn by criminals to hide their identity from security cameras. When I bought my first hooded sweatshirt over 30 years ago, I would have never suspected a member of the Yale football team to be a criminal. I feel sad that my son may be targeted as a criminal just because he chooses to wear a hooded sweatshirt.
One day--- I hope that a person's choice of clothing does not lead to them getting killed. To make an assumption about the content of a person's character, based on what a person is wearing, is wrong.
In memory of Trayvon Martin.
Monday, June 25, 2012
Corporal Punishment
Earlier this week in the news there was a story about a teacher who had told her class to line up and hit the "class bully". I was appalled and immediately thought that the teacher was the real bully. She was training future generations of children to use corporal punishment to solve their problems.
I was relieved to hear that the teacher was fired and being prosecuted for reckless endangerment of the children in her class. What would have happened if the "Bully" had been injured by the repetitive hitting? Is it really the right answer to punish someone who teases, taunts and even hits his or her classmates by using the same bad behavior.
During slavery, owners would beat their property if they misbehaved or tried to run away. Slavery was outlawed. Parents should know that in some states if you use any object other than an open hand to spank your child, you will be arrested and may go to jail. I think that all people should follow a simple rule that I instilled in my children at a very young age:
"No biting, no fighting, no hitting nor scratching."
These are very simple rules but they also teach children how to solve their problems without using violence. Why do parents think it is fine to teach children not to hit but then turn around and use corporal punishment on their children when they misbehave or make a mistake? I do not understand this logic.
I was raised as a Baptist. You were considered a good parent if you spanked your child. When I was very young, my mother would make me get my own switch from a tree outside our house to beat me. My father only spanked me once with his hand. I learned from him that corporal punishment was not needed to discipline a child. "Spare the rod, spoil the child", does not give a parent the right to beat their children. If you believe every passage in the Bible, you would kill a person at the same time you turn the other cheek.
How many studies have been published about the detrimental impact of spanking a child? In movies such as "Roots" and "Amistad", the depiction of humans being beaten by their owners is enough to make you questions ever hitting any person. Why would a parent want to hit their child?
If you were raised by a parent who hit you, you will be more likely to use this form of punishment on your children. Does it make it right? If you were raised by a sexual molester, would you molest your own children? Does it make it right? The answer to both questions is a sharp, "NO!"
We are living in the 21st century. We should be able to say that humans have evolved beyond violence. Sadly, as a species I feel as if we are returning to the Stone Ages. Should clubbing and hitting be our only form of communication?
I never hit my children. They knew when they had misbehaved or had not obeyed a rule. They knew there would be consequences for bad behavior and I would enforce my punishments. Sometimes parents want to be friends with their children. Make friends with other adults and parent your children so that they grow up to be self sufficient and functional adults.
Parenting is hard and it takes discipline. If you are too tired to hand out a punishment without resorting to beating your child, then take a parent time out and deliver the punishment when you are in control of your emotions. If you can't set an example for your children about how to control your own emotions, how can you expect them to control theirs?
I was relieved to hear that the teacher was fired and being prosecuted for reckless endangerment of the children in her class. What would have happened if the "Bully" had been injured by the repetitive hitting? Is it really the right answer to punish someone who teases, taunts and even hits his or her classmates by using the same bad behavior.
During slavery, owners would beat their property if they misbehaved or tried to run away. Slavery was outlawed. Parents should know that in some states if you use any object other than an open hand to spank your child, you will be arrested and may go to jail. I think that all people should follow a simple rule that I instilled in my children at a very young age:
"No biting, no fighting, no hitting nor scratching."
These are very simple rules but they also teach children how to solve their problems without using violence. Why do parents think it is fine to teach children not to hit but then turn around and use corporal punishment on their children when they misbehave or make a mistake? I do not understand this logic.
I was raised as a Baptist. You were considered a good parent if you spanked your child. When I was very young, my mother would make me get my own switch from a tree outside our house to beat me. My father only spanked me once with his hand. I learned from him that corporal punishment was not needed to discipline a child. "Spare the rod, spoil the child", does not give a parent the right to beat their children. If you believe every passage in the Bible, you would kill a person at the same time you turn the other cheek.
How many studies have been published about the detrimental impact of spanking a child? In movies such as "Roots" and "Amistad", the depiction of humans being beaten by their owners is enough to make you questions ever hitting any person. Why would a parent want to hit their child?
If you were raised by a parent who hit you, you will be more likely to use this form of punishment on your children. Does it make it right? If you were raised by a sexual molester, would you molest your own children? Does it make it right? The answer to both questions is a sharp, "NO!"
We are living in the 21st century. We should be able to say that humans have evolved beyond violence. Sadly, as a species I feel as if we are returning to the Stone Ages. Should clubbing and hitting be our only form of communication?
I never hit my children. They knew when they had misbehaved or had not obeyed a rule. They knew there would be consequences for bad behavior and I would enforce my punishments. Sometimes parents want to be friends with their children. Make friends with other adults and parent your children so that they grow up to be self sufficient and functional adults.
Parenting is hard and it takes discipline. If you are too tired to hand out a punishment without resorting to beating your child, then take a parent time out and deliver the punishment when you are in control of your emotions. If you can't set an example for your children about how to control your own emotions, how can you expect them to control theirs?
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Why I Quit
My friends and family told me to read the article that is the cover story of the Atlantic magazine in the July/August 2012 issue. I am sharing this article with all of my friends because it summarizes what I could never articulate so succinctly.
YOU MUST READ IT.
http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-can-8217-t-have-it-all/9020/
WE MUST CHANGE THE WORKPLACE FOR OUR DAUGHTERS AND SONS. NOW.
DAYM
YOU MUST READ IT.
http://www.theatlantic.com/magazine/archive/2012/07/why-women-still-can-8217-t-have-it-all/9020/
WE MUST CHANGE THE WORKPLACE FOR OUR DAUGHTERS AND SONS. NOW.
DAYM
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
The Best Dad
I had an amazing father. He was my best friend. He taught me so much about life and how to be the parent that I am today. He was giving and loving and shared all that he had with my brother and myself. I hope there are lots of other sons and daughters that feel the same way about their dads.
My father taught me how to read and encouraged me to be a life-long learner. When I was accepted at Yale, he was very proud of me. After my first semester, I wanted to transfer to a local college. He made me stay and said that he did not raise quitters. I was very homesick and wanted to be closer to home. He told me to call him whenever I wanted or needed to talk. One month during my first year I had a $500.00 phone bill.
By the time I finished my freshman year, I was happy that I stayed at Yale. Sometimes parents need to practice tough love in order for their children to be successful in life. He had high expectations for me and wanted to make sure that I achieved my goals; Yet, he was gentle and firm all at the same time.
After graduation I worked at Goldman Sachs as a financial analyst. He had never heard of an investment bank. I don't think he understood what I did but encouraged me to work hard. He was a child of the Depression and did not trust the Stock Market. He had invested in real assets and was able to send me to Yale without any scholarships or financial aid.
During WWII, my father was a Buffalo Soldier in the last mounted calvary before the troop was disbanded. He got to see the world as a soldier and encouraged me to travel, even when he was too busy to accompany me. He believed that seeing the world would give me a better appreciation for my own country. He was so right.
He was not the traditional father figure. He did the grocery shopping, cooked all the meals, cleaned the house, did the laundry and was also a great provider. I look at other men today and wonder why they can't assume a few more tasks at home. It is possible to work outside the home and wash a few loads of laundry. I saw my father do so many things around the house. It is kind of funny when I think about it now; I thought all dads did these chores.
He loved the Earth and each year planted an award winning vegetable garden with corn, squash, tomatoes, beans and broccoli. He fostered my passion for gardening and how to care for all living things.
He showed me, by example, how to love my children unconditionally. If I made a mistake, he would talk to me about what I did wrong in a way that I never questioned his love. He also showed me what it means to sacrifice one's dreams and desires to make sure that the next generation has the opportunity to excel.
I love my father, and even though he passed away 15 years ago, my love for him never fades. I was blessed to be loved by someone so special.
My father taught me how to read and encouraged me to be a life-long learner. When I was accepted at Yale, he was very proud of me. After my first semester, I wanted to transfer to a local college. He made me stay and said that he did not raise quitters. I was very homesick and wanted to be closer to home. He told me to call him whenever I wanted or needed to talk. One month during my first year I had a $500.00 phone bill.
By the time I finished my freshman year, I was happy that I stayed at Yale. Sometimes parents need to practice tough love in order for their children to be successful in life. He had high expectations for me and wanted to make sure that I achieved my goals; Yet, he was gentle and firm all at the same time.
After graduation I worked at Goldman Sachs as a financial analyst. He had never heard of an investment bank. I don't think he understood what I did but encouraged me to work hard. He was a child of the Depression and did not trust the Stock Market. He had invested in real assets and was able to send me to Yale without any scholarships or financial aid.
During WWII, my father was a Buffalo Soldier in the last mounted calvary before the troop was disbanded. He got to see the world as a soldier and encouraged me to travel, even when he was too busy to accompany me. He believed that seeing the world would give me a better appreciation for my own country. He was so right.
He was not the traditional father figure. He did the grocery shopping, cooked all the meals, cleaned the house, did the laundry and was also a great provider. I look at other men today and wonder why they can't assume a few more tasks at home. It is possible to work outside the home and wash a few loads of laundry. I saw my father do so many things around the house. It is kind of funny when I think about it now; I thought all dads did these chores.
He loved the Earth and each year planted an award winning vegetable garden with corn, squash, tomatoes, beans and broccoli. He fostered my passion for gardening and how to care for all living things.
He showed me, by example, how to love my children unconditionally. If I made a mistake, he would talk to me about what I did wrong in a way that I never questioned his love. He also showed me what it means to sacrifice one's dreams and desires to make sure that the next generation has the opportunity to excel.
I love my father, and even though he passed away 15 years ago, my love for him never fades. I was blessed to be loved by someone so special.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Equal Pay for Equal Work
I think that it is ridiculous that women in the year 2012 are still not getting paid for the work that they do.
I have two daughters and I know how hard they work. They are smarter than most of the boys their age. They are more mature than most boys their age; so why should they be punished because of their gender?
Just because a woman may choose one day to have a child or not to have a child should not determine how much she is paid when she begins her career.
Women should take a stand today and just say,"No!"
Just say no to systemic discrimination for your daughters sake. There are more women than men in most colleges. There are more women than men in the United States today. So why do we let most men and a few women decide how much we should get paid for doing the same a work as a man.
When I was pregnant with my second child, I was put on bed rest for three months. After I delivered my daughter by emergency cesarean, I returned to work in 5 weeks. I could not drive or lift anything greater than 10 pounds. My boss told me you better get back to work soon before you lose your job.
In retrospect, my company was unfair to me. Gender discrimination was prevalent in the 1980's and 1990's. If a man had a heart attack while working, the company could not fire him. They would have to find a temporary replacement to fill the job or delegate his duties to other employees. In this situation there is no advance warning or time to plan. Heart attacks or any other sudden health crisis are not expected and can not be planned for.
Maternity is very easy to build into a corporation's work schedule and into their short term plans. So why are pregnancies treated so very differently from unexpected illnesses? Because we let men get away with it. Demand your fair pay and do not let any boss bully you into thinking that you are worth less just because you are having a baby.
Men can not multi-task as well as women and so they naturally assume that women can not either. Today, 77% of all mothers work outside of the home. We are no longer living in the 1950's when we had very little choice but to stay at home.
Is motherhood a real excuse for unequal pay or is it a reason for men and some women to pay less to a woman because she may take some days off from work? Everyone has unexpected situations that may cause them to miss work but mothers should not be penalized for having children. Everyone takes time off from work regardless of gender.
Have you seen the cost of college tuitions lately? Go to the Working Mother Magazine and find a female friendly work environment and get a job there if your boss is insensitive. My old company now has an emergency childcare facility at one of its offices, just in case your child gets sick and can't go to school or if the nanny is unable to come to work. If only they had childcare on site when I was a young mother, my life might have turned out quite differently.
There are companies that value the women who work for them. If you can't find one, then start your own company.
MOTHERHOOD SHOULD NOT BE A CAUSE FOR PAY INEQUALITY. This is the 21st Century.
DAYM
I have two daughters and I know how hard they work. They are smarter than most of the boys their age. They are more mature than most boys their age; so why should they be punished because of their gender?
Just because a woman may choose one day to have a child or not to have a child should not determine how much she is paid when she begins her career.
Women should take a stand today and just say,"No!"
Just say no to systemic discrimination for your daughters sake. There are more women than men in most colleges. There are more women than men in the United States today. So why do we let most men and a few women decide how much we should get paid for doing the same a work as a man.
When I was pregnant with my second child, I was put on bed rest for three months. After I delivered my daughter by emergency cesarean, I returned to work in 5 weeks. I could not drive or lift anything greater than 10 pounds. My boss told me you better get back to work soon before you lose your job.
In retrospect, my company was unfair to me. Gender discrimination was prevalent in the 1980's and 1990's. If a man had a heart attack while working, the company could not fire him. They would have to find a temporary replacement to fill the job or delegate his duties to other employees. In this situation there is no advance warning or time to plan. Heart attacks or any other sudden health crisis are not expected and can not be planned for.
Maternity is very easy to build into a corporation's work schedule and into their short term plans. So why are pregnancies treated so very differently from unexpected illnesses? Because we let men get away with it. Demand your fair pay and do not let any boss bully you into thinking that you are worth less just because you are having a baby.
Men can not multi-task as well as women and so they naturally assume that women can not either. Today, 77% of all mothers work outside of the home. We are no longer living in the 1950's when we had very little choice but to stay at home.
Is motherhood a real excuse for unequal pay or is it a reason for men and some women to pay less to a woman because she may take some days off from work? Everyone has unexpected situations that may cause them to miss work but mothers should not be penalized for having children. Everyone takes time off from work regardless of gender.
Have you seen the cost of college tuitions lately? Go to the Working Mother Magazine and find a female friendly work environment and get a job there if your boss is insensitive. My old company now has an emergency childcare facility at one of its offices, just in case your child gets sick and can't go to school or if the nanny is unable to come to work. If only they had childcare on site when I was a young mother, my life might have turned out quite differently.
There are companies that value the women who work for them. If you can't find one, then start your own company.
MOTHERHOOD SHOULD NOT BE A CAUSE FOR PAY INEQUALITY. This is the 21st Century.
DAYM
Sunday, June 10, 2012
It's My Birthday!
I am 53 years old today and very proud of my age. I have never pretended to be younger or older. I am grateful for every day that I have been blessed to be on this planet.
I have several friends who died young and I will never take life for granted. You never know how long you have on Earth.
My children are 24, 19 and 17 years old. I can not pretend to be 29 years old. If you do the math on that story, I would have given birth at 5 years of age.
Really. Not really.
I am proud to be alive. I am happy to be surrounded on this day by my children. I really enjoy their company. I can't imagine my life without them.
Thank you for making my life complete. I am loved and I love them very much.
I hope if you are reading this blog today you will wish me many more years to celebrate my birthday.
I have several friends who died young and I will never take life for granted. You never know how long you have on Earth.
My children are 24, 19 and 17 years old. I can not pretend to be 29 years old. If you do the math on that story, I would have given birth at 5 years of age.
Really. Not really.
I am proud to be alive. I am happy to be surrounded on this day by my children. I really enjoy their company. I can't imagine my life without them.
Thank you for making my life complete. I am loved and I love them very much.
I hope if you are reading this blog today you will wish me many more years to celebrate my birthday.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Graduation Time Again
One year ago, my youngest daughter graduated from high school. I have a few tears in my eyes thinking about how quickly time flies. Last week, she was home for only 5 days after completing her first year of college. It is almost unbelievable that she will be a sophomore at Uni( a slang word for university in the UK).
I just returned from Washington DC where she has a summer internship in communications. She is an amazing journalist and she is learning from the best. She was offered two internships during a time when many college students can not find one job. I feel blessed that all of her hard work has finally paid off.
She edits my writing and when I publish my book her touch will be evident. I am proud to say that she is an amazing writer. Her favorite high school teacher, approached her sister at an event last month. He told my oldest daughter that her sister was one of the best writers he had ever taught.
Do you see me beaming? My smile reaches across the page.
I miss her very much this summer. She was home for most of last summer. She was having the time of her life. She attended more graduation parties than anyone that I have ever known. It seemed as if the parties would go on forever. She traveled to the Dominican Republic, New York and Connecticut. She was even supposed to go to Tennessee for the Bonnaroo Music Festival with a group of her classmates. They were going to sleep in tents and live like the flower children of the 60's. She was supposed to drive for 10 hours with 2 friends and then camp out for 3 days in the woods.
The experience sounded like a repeat of Woodstock. In 2010, we visited the famous site of the Woodstock Music festival in upstate New York. My daughter loved it. My daughter has always been a fan of the 60's. She took a class in high school called "Music of the 60's". She got an A in the class. I sometimes think that she was a "love child" in another life.
I am happy to report that after months of worry, she decided not to go the music festival in Tennessee. I was so relieved that she did not to go. I still worry about her driving on the highway. I guess I need to accept that she is only months away from not being a teenager anymore.
Where did the time go? Twenty years ago, I was moving to a new city, starting a new job, buying a house and pregnant with my second baby. That baby is now 19.5 years old.
"Life is a journey, not a destination." Souza
Enjoy the journey. When your children are born, you never know where their journey will take you.
DAYM
Sunday, June 3, 2012
The Cost of a College Education
When I started Yale in 1977, my tuition was $7500. When I graduated four years later, it had risen to $11,500. My father finished the 8th grade and my mother finished the 9th grade. I was not eligible for financial aid but my dad toke out one student loan during my college years. He paid the loan off completely within 5 years of my graduation.
When my daughter started Yale in 2006, the tuition was $42,000. When she graduated in 2010, it had risen to $50,000. The tuition, room and board fees do not include books, transportation, personal hygiene supplies, beer, or pizza money. When I calculated how much it cost to put her through Yale, I realized what a huge investment this Ivy League education had been. I looked at our retirement savings and realized that the financial sacrifices that my husband and I have made may never be recouped in our lifetime.
We made the investment in higher education when our oldest turned 4 years old. I wish I could tell you that we used the public schools in our neighborhood but that would not be the truth. When we moved into our home 20 years ago, I told my husband that we would never be able to use the local school system. If we had purchased a home in a different neighborhood, we may have been able to use the public schools until 8th grade. My husband and I only agreed on purchasing this one house. We made the choice to use private schools the day we signed the purchase agreement.
I know that we have been blessed to be able to make a choice when so many parents can not.
Without a college education, a child's future is limited.
How will my grandchildren be able to afford the dream of sending their children to college?
DAYM
When my daughter started Yale in 2006, the tuition was $42,000. When she graduated in 2010, it had risen to $50,000. The tuition, room and board fees do not include books, transportation, personal hygiene supplies, beer, or pizza money. When I calculated how much it cost to put her through Yale, I realized what a huge investment this Ivy League education had been. I looked at our retirement savings and realized that the financial sacrifices that my husband and I have made may never be recouped in our lifetime.
We made the investment in higher education when our oldest turned 4 years old. I wish I could tell you that we used the public schools in our neighborhood but that would not be the truth. When we moved into our home 20 years ago, I told my husband that we would never be able to use the local school system. If we had purchased a home in a different neighborhood, we may have been able to use the public schools until 8th grade. My husband and I only agreed on purchasing this one house. We made the choice to use private schools the day we signed the purchase agreement.
I know that we have been blessed to be able to make a choice when so many parents can not.
Without a college education, a child's future is limited.
How will my grandchildren be able to afford the dream of sending their children to college?
DAYM
Summer is Near; Forms, Forms and more Forms
4.25.2012
I just completed, I think, all of the forms for summer camps and summer internships. My children are older now. The number of forms that I had to complete this year was significantly less than the number of forms that I had to fill out when the children were younger.
When my children were 5, 7 and 12 years old, I had one folder for each child that contained all of the summer camp forms that needed to be completed. If I was not organized, I might miss a deadline or forget to fill out an important form. There were forms to fill out for them to be a member of the swim team. In addition, each sports' camp, theatre camp, tennis camp or academic enrichment camp had different general information forms. Each camp also needed pictures, medical history forms, medical authorization forms in the event of an emergency, photo release forms, and clothing sizes for the camp uniform, which was usually a t-shirt or a swimsuit.
When you have just one child this task does not seem too daunting. If you have three children attending at least three different camps and sometimes attending more than three different camps each, you want to pull your hair out. I would get writer’s cramp because these forms all had to be filled out by hand. In the year 2000 A.D., when we were living in the stone ages, no one had forms that were completed on the computer. No one had auto-fill. Even on this day in the year 2012, I had to complete several forms the old fashioned way by using handwriting and not computer typing.
My son is studying abroad this summer. I needed a copy of his passport, an insurance information and release form, which also needed an authorization form completed by our insurance company. Just in case he had a medical emergency abroad, we might get reimbursed for it. Insurance companies rarely reimburse us for medical emergencies in the USA, so I doubt that we will get any money from them if the emergency takes place in a foreign country. Finally, I had to complete a passport information form, in the event that my son lost his passport. These forms were in addition to the Enrollment Contract, the Rules Contract and the Statement of Understanding Contract that were completed by my son when he applied to be accepted to this language immersion and art history study program 5000 miles away from home. He also had to get 4 additional passport photos taken that will be used for an international student ID and a bus pass.
In addition to all of the forms that had to be filled out, there is also an eight-page guide called, “Notes”. It took me one full day to read and complete all of the forms and call the insurance company. I also think that I should hire a lawyer to make sure that I am not signing away any of my rights to litigate the school, in the case they lose my child. Yes, that has happened to my son before when he traveled abroad on a school trip.
It has been a few years and I can only now talk about it without my blood pressure going up. My son was a rising 8th grader; that means he had completed 7th grade but had not yet started 8th grade. He studies Latin and French. He had the opportunity to go to Italy or France with a group of 15 boys chaperoned by three teachers from his school.
As you may recall, the summer of 2008 was the true beginning of The Great Recession as far as Main Street was concerned. Bear Stearns had already collapsed and the stock market was on shaky grounds. I was visiting Goldman Sachs on the last day that they were an Investment Bank. The following Monday they had become a Bank Holding Company. But I digress. I just want to emphasize that a lot of people were afraid that they would try to withdraw money from their ATM machine and nothing would come out. I really do have a lot of inside information about Wall Street.
Instead of 15 boys traveling to Italy with three teachers, 6 boys went to Italy with 3 teachers. I normally travel alone with my three children so this student teacher ratio was very low…2 boys to 1 teacher. I felt a sense of relief that they could keep track of all the boys. They toured Rome, Pompeii, Capri and Florence. They even visited a classmate’s family that owns a villa in Tuscany. They were very lucky boys, until my son got lost at the train station in Florence.
I will repeat this last statement. "THEY LOST MY SON AT THE FIRENZE TRAIN STATION IN ITALIA."
How can three teachers chaperoning 6 boys lose 1 boy at the train station? All you have to do is hold a boy with each hand. One adult watching two boys. It sounds easy to me. Here is the story that I was told by my son and his friends who went on the trip.
“They were late for the train that was to take them back to Rome for their departure to the USA on the following day. One of the teachers decided to go to McDonald’ s before they boarded the train.”
I paid how much money for my son to go to Italy to eat American fast food. I should have gotten a refund for his trip.
“We were running to catch the train." The teachers said, "Get on the train." My son is a very fast runner. My son got on the train. The doors closed. The teachers and the rest of the group were still standing on the platform. When he turned around and realized that no one from his group was on the train, he started banging on the door. The teachers were banging on the train doors from the platform. The train departed the station on time.
“But this train was not going to Rome", where their airplane was scheduled to depart the following day, it was headed to Bologna. It was going in the opposite direction. Luckily, my son is very smart. He found the conductor and showed him his itinerary. He did not have his passport. Of course his teachers had his passport. They were the responsible ones. The conductor did not stop the train. He did contact the Florence train station. At the next train stop, he was escorted by the Police on the next train to Florence. His group was waiting for him.
One of the teachers during this episode cursed so much that my son said that he had never heard some of the words before. The school did not call to notify me that my son had been lost. I only heard about it when I picked him up from the airport when all of his friends came over to tell me what had happened to him. They all had PTSD.
DO I GET A REFUND NOW?
Let’s not talk about how much food they ate over the two weeks when they were in Italia. My son came home emaciated. He lost at least 10 pounds during the trip. He said they ate meat only once during the entire trip when they were at his friend’s villa. They ate lots of pasta, pizza and McDonald’s. My son does not eat fast food. He is a very healthy eater.
In the summer of 2008, the US dollar was very weak versus the Euro dollar. The teachers did not have enough money to properly feed the children. No one on this trip was on scholarship. Why didn't the teachers call the school and advise them that they needed more money? I am sure that the families of the 6 boys would have gladly paid a supplemental fee to make sure that their children were given an adequate amount of food each day. My son was starving when he came home. He had been lost. He also thought that he had been bitten by bed bugs at the Convent that they stayed at in Rome.
The teachers did make a lovely photo book about the trip that included a quote from my son.
“I am proud of myself that I came on this trip, because I have seen one of the greatest cities in the world. I would have never imagined that a city would be this rich in historical architecture. I know in the future I will come back, but there is nothing like witnessing something so glorious for the first time.”
My son denies writing this quote.
Was this trip was worth it? I guess he will always remember this trip to Italy. Hopefully, this summer will be uneventful.
DAYM
6.2.2012
Addendum
My son got sick at school last week and had to come home from boarding school early. He finished his classes but was unable to take his exams. He has some kind of mysterious virus or mono.
He will not be able to go to France this summer. We are not eligible for a refund because he got sick after the deadline for any refund.
Has anyone ever gotten a refund from a summer camp? Please let me know.
DAYM
I just completed, I think, all of the forms for summer camps and summer internships. My children are older now. The number of forms that I had to complete this year was significantly less than the number of forms that I had to fill out when the children were younger.
When my children were 5, 7 and 12 years old, I had one folder for each child that contained all of the summer camp forms that needed to be completed. If I was not organized, I might miss a deadline or forget to fill out an important form. There were forms to fill out for them to be a member of the swim team. In addition, each sports' camp, theatre camp, tennis camp or academic enrichment camp had different general information forms. Each camp also needed pictures, medical history forms, medical authorization forms in the event of an emergency, photo release forms, and clothing sizes for the camp uniform, which was usually a t-shirt or a swimsuit.
When you have just one child this task does not seem too daunting. If you have three children attending at least three different camps and sometimes attending more than three different camps each, you want to pull your hair out. I would get writer’s cramp because these forms all had to be filled out by hand. In the year 2000 A.D., when we were living in the stone ages, no one had forms that were completed on the computer. No one had auto-fill. Even on this day in the year 2012, I had to complete several forms the old fashioned way by using handwriting and not computer typing.
My son is studying abroad this summer. I needed a copy of his passport, an insurance information and release form, which also needed an authorization form completed by our insurance company. Just in case he had a medical emergency abroad, we might get reimbursed for it. Insurance companies rarely reimburse us for medical emergencies in the USA, so I doubt that we will get any money from them if the emergency takes place in a foreign country. Finally, I had to complete a passport information form, in the event that my son lost his passport. These forms were in addition to the Enrollment Contract, the Rules Contract and the Statement of Understanding Contract that were completed by my son when he applied to be accepted to this language immersion and art history study program 5000 miles away from home. He also had to get 4 additional passport photos taken that will be used for an international student ID and a bus pass.
In addition to all of the forms that had to be filled out, there is also an eight-page guide called, “Notes”. It took me one full day to read and complete all of the forms and call the insurance company. I also think that I should hire a lawyer to make sure that I am not signing away any of my rights to litigate the school, in the case they lose my child. Yes, that has happened to my son before when he traveled abroad on a school trip.
It has been a few years and I can only now talk about it without my blood pressure going up. My son was a rising 8th grader; that means he had completed 7th grade but had not yet started 8th grade. He studies Latin and French. He had the opportunity to go to Italy or France with a group of 15 boys chaperoned by three teachers from his school.
As you may recall, the summer of 2008 was the true beginning of The Great Recession as far as Main Street was concerned. Bear Stearns had already collapsed and the stock market was on shaky grounds. I was visiting Goldman Sachs on the last day that they were an Investment Bank. The following Monday they had become a Bank Holding Company. But I digress. I just want to emphasize that a lot of people were afraid that they would try to withdraw money from their ATM machine and nothing would come out. I really do have a lot of inside information about Wall Street.
Instead of 15 boys traveling to Italy with three teachers, 6 boys went to Italy with 3 teachers. I normally travel alone with my three children so this student teacher ratio was very low…2 boys to 1 teacher. I felt a sense of relief that they could keep track of all the boys. They toured Rome, Pompeii, Capri and Florence. They even visited a classmate’s family that owns a villa in Tuscany. They were very lucky boys, until my son got lost at the train station in Florence.
I will repeat this last statement. "THEY LOST MY SON AT THE FIRENZE TRAIN STATION IN ITALIA."
How can three teachers chaperoning 6 boys lose 1 boy at the train station? All you have to do is hold a boy with each hand. One adult watching two boys. It sounds easy to me. Here is the story that I was told by my son and his friends who went on the trip.
“They were late for the train that was to take them back to Rome for their departure to the USA on the following day. One of the teachers decided to go to McDonald’ s before they boarded the train.”
I paid how much money for my son to go to Italy to eat American fast food. I should have gotten a refund for his trip.
“We were running to catch the train." The teachers said, "Get on the train." My son is a very fast runner. My son got on the train. The doors closed. The teachers and the rest of the group were still standing on the platform. When he turned around and realized that no one from his group was on the train, he started banging on the door. The teachers were banging on the train doors from the platform. The train departed the station on time.
“But this train was not going to Rome", where their airplane was scheduled to depart the following day, it was headed to Bologna. It was going in the opposite direction. Luckily, my son is very smart. He found the conductor and showed him his itinerary. He did not have his passport. Of course his teachers had his passport. They were the responsible ones. The conductor did not stop the train. He did contact the Florence train station. At the next train stop, he was escorted by the Police on the next train to Florence. His group was waiting for him.
One of the teachers during this episode cursed so much that my son said that he had never heard some of the words before. The school did not call to notify me that my son had been lost. I only heard about it when I picked him up from the airport when all of his friends came over to tell me what had happened to him. They all had PTSD.
DO I GET A REFUND NOW?
Let’s not talk about how much food they ate over the two weeks when they were in Italia. My son came home emaciated. He lost at least 10 pounds during the trip. He said they ate meat only once during the entire trip when they were at his friend’s villa. They ate lots of pasta, pizza and McDonald’s. My son does not eat fast food. He is a very healthy eater.
In the summer of 2008, the US dollar was very weak versus the Euro dollar. The teachers did not have enough money to properly feed the children. No one on this trip was on scholarship. Why didn't the teachers call the school and advise them that they needed more money? I am sure that the families of the 6 boys would have gladly paid a supplemental fee to make sure that their children were given an adequate amount of food each day. My son was starving when he came home. He had been lost. He also thought that he had been bitten by bed bugs at the Convent that they stayed at in Rome.
The teachers did make a lovely photo book about the trip that included a quote from my son.
“I am proud of myself that I came on this trip, because I have seen one of the greatest cities in the world. I would have never imagined that a city would be this rich in historical architecture. I know in the future I will come back, but there is nothing like witnessing something so glorious for the first time.”
My son denies writing this quote.
Was this trip was worth it? I guess he will always remember this trip to Italy. Hopefully, this summer will be uneventful.
DAYM
6.2.2012
Addendum
My son got sick at school last week and had to come home from boarding school early. He finished his classes but was unable to take his exams. He has some kind of mysterious virus or mono.
He will not be able to go to France this summer. We are not eligible for a refund because he got sick after the deadline for any refund.
Has anyone ever gotten a refund from a summer camp? Please let me know.
DAYM
Sunday, May 20, 2012
True Love
"I knew for sure that I was loved" by Luther Vandross
5.20.2012
When I was a little girl, I knew that I was loved. My parents both loved me but my father's love was demonstrated every day by his actions. He would get up at 4 am to prepare a warm bottle of milk for me. He would make my breakfast and comb my hair. He would take me to school in the morning and make a hot lunch for me every day.
He used to have an amazing garden. I would sit and watch him dig and plant for hours. I had a little table and chair set up outside so that I could dissect worms or other bugs that he would find while he was working. In return, I would put the seeds in the neatly dug rows and fill the water can for him.
If I was upset after being bullied by the kids in the neighborhood, he would console me. I would sit on his lap and he would hold me tight while I sobbed. He would constantly give me words of wisdom and sage advice. He not only nurtured me but he also took care of all my needs. He had a really big belly that reminded me of Santa Claus. He was my own personal Santa Claus and I never wanted for anything even when he could not afford it.
He was always there for me.
I knew that I was loved unconditionally, especially when I made a mistake. One day when I was 7 years old, my father asked me to get him a hot dog out of the "ice box". I said, "No!" He spanked me but then he sat me on his knee and cried. He said: "I don't ever want to hit you but I need you to obey me. I will never ask you to do anything that will hurt you." He never had to spank me again.
This kind of unconditional love is the foundation for every well adjusted child. They need to know that their parents will be there for them. Infants need to know that someone will pick them up if they cry. Babies can not articulate their needs. They do not know how to say, "My diaper is wet, I need some milk or I need to be held just to know that you care." I sometimes shutter when I hear pediatricians say "Let them cry themselves to sleep", without saying, "After you make sure that all of their needs have been met".
All human beings need to be held and loved. A hug goes a long way towards solving many problems. Not a superficial hug but a real hug that lasts more than a second. The kind of hug when you can hear the other persons heartbeat. I always give hugs like that to my children every time I see them. I want them to know that they are loved unconditionally. I want them to know that if they make a mistake, I might yell for a short period of time but I will hug them longer.
When my children were very young the challenges that I was presented with were at times insurmountable. When my oldest was born, she was a month premature. Her sucking reflexes were underdeveloped and I had to pump my breast for a month before she got the hang of breastfeeding. She became jaundiced after getting home from the hospital. My mother, husband and I took turns holding her because if you put her down for more than 5 minutes she would start whaling and crying uncontrollably. I was already exhausted from the 44 hours of labor that I endured without any anesthesia. I sometimes started to cry when she could not suck my breast properly after 30 minutes of trying and crying. I would then have to endure the pain of the pump. If you have ever breastfed, you know what I mean. This is unconditional love.
It would take all of my mental control to not shake the baby. I know that so many mothers have just lost it when they do not have adequate support and their first child is challenging. I was so blessed to have a husband who thought he knew what he was doing. He had at least been the second oldest of eight children. He would take her when she started projectile vomiting and rock her ever so gently. I sometimes try to forget how hard it was with my first child.
It was so hard to get my first mothering job right that I wondered if I was really cut out for it. It is a good thing, that after almost 4 years, the memories of the tough times that I had with her faded. Amnesia for mothers is a blessing. My second child was so easy that I deluded myself into thinking that maybe having four children was possible and desirous. Luckily, the 3 months of bed rest before her birth reminded me that I was an old mother for the times. When I got pregnant with my third child, I was jarred back to reality when my doctor advised that I have amniocentesis. I feel blessed that I had three healthy children even if the oldest was a little colicky. She still has a lot of stomach problems today as a 24 year old.
You can never hold your children too much. You can never love them too much. You may worry about them too much, but that comes with unconditional loving.
I got up this morning before the crack of dawn to make sure that my daughter's flight home from her first year in college was on schedule. I wanted her to know that I was anxiously awaiting her arrival. I told her to text me when she boarded the plane. The flight has been delayed for at least 3 hours and my long anticipated "Mother's Day" with all of my children will have to be rescheduled. I am a little sad because I will not get to hold them all at once. I am happy, however, that they all know that they are loved unconditionally.
I always want them to know that they are loved for sure.
5.20.2012
When I was a little girl, I knew that I was loved. My parents both loved me but my father's love was demonstrated every day by his actions. He would get up at 4 am to prepare a warm bottle of milk for me. He would make my breakfast and comb my hair. He would take me to school in the morning and make a hot lunch for me every day.
He used to have an amazing garden. I would sit and watch him dig and plant for hours. I had a little table and chair set up outside so that I could dissect worms or other bugs that he would find while he was working. In return, I would put the seeds in the neatly dug rows and fill the water can for him.
If I was upset after being bullied by the kids in the neighborhood, he would console me. I would sit on his lap and he would hold me tight while I sobbed. He would constantly give me words of wisdom and sage advice. He not only nurtured me but he also took care of all my needs. He had a really big belly that reminded me of Santa Claus. He was my own personal Santa Claus and I never wanted for anything even when he could not afford it.
He was always there for me.
I knew that I was loved unconditionally, especially when I made a mistake. One day when I was 7 years old, my father asked me to get him a hot dog out of the "ice box". I said, "No!" He spanked me but then he sat me on his knee and cried. He said: "I don't ever want to hit you but I need you to obey me. I will never ask you to do anything that will hurt you." He never had to spank me again.
This kind of unconditional love is the foundation for every well adjusted child. They need to know that their parents will be there for them. Infants need to know that someone will pick them up if they cry. Babies can not articulate their needs. They do not know how to say, "My diaper is wet, I need some milk or I need to be held just to know that you care." I sometimes shutter when I hear pediatricians say "Let them cry themselves to sleep", without saying, "After you make sure that all of their needs have been met".
All human beings need to be held and loved. A hug goes a long way towards solving many problems. Not a superficial hug but a real hug that lasts more than a second. The kind of hug when you can hear the other persons heartbeat. I always give hugs like that to my children every time I see them. I want them to know that they are loved unconditionally. I want them to know that if they make a mistake, I might yell for a short period of time but I will hug them longer.
When my children were very young the challenges that I was presented with were at times insurmountable. When my oldest was born, she was a month premature. Her sucking reflexes were underdeveloped and I had to pump my breast for a month before she got the hang of breastfeeding. She became jaundiced after getting home from the hospital. My mother, husband and I took turns holding her because if you put her down for more than 5 minutes she would start whaling and crying uncontrollably. I was already exhausted from the 44 hours of labor that I endured without any anesthesia. I sometimes started to cry when she could not suck my breast properly after 30 minutes of trying and crying. I would then have to endure the pain of the pump. If you have ever breastfed, you know what I mean. This is unconditional love.
It would take all of my mental control to not shake the baby. I know that so many mothers have just lost it when they do not have adequate support and their first child is challenging. I was so blessed to have a husband who thought he knew what he was doing. He had at least been the second oldest of eight children. He would take her when she started projectile vomiting and rock her ever so gently. I sometimes try to forget how hard it was with my first child.
It was so hard to get my first mothering job right that I wondered if I was really cut out for it. It is a good thing, that after almost 4 years, the memories of the tough times that I had with her faded. Amnesia for mothers is a blessing. My second child was so easy that I deluded myself into thinking that maybe having four children was possible and desirous. Luckily, the 3 months of bed rest before her birth reminded me that I was an old mother for the times. When I got pregnant with my third child, I was jarred back to reality when my doctor advised that I have amniocentesis. I feel blessed that I had three healthy children even if the oldest was a little colicky. She still has a lot of stomach problems today as a 24 year old.
You can never hold your children too much. You can never love them too much. You may worry about them too much, but that comes with unconditional loving.
I got up this morning before the crack of dawn to make sure that my daughter's flight home from her first year in college was on schedule. I wanted her to know that I was anxiously awaiting her arrival. I told her to text me when she boarded the plane. The flight has been delayed for at least 3 hours and my long anticipated "Mother's Day" with all of my children will have to be rescheduled. I am a little sad because I will not get to hold them all at once. I am happy, however, that they all know that they are loved unconditionally.
I always want them to know that they are loved for sure.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
The Invisible Mother
My girlfriend sent this to me for Mother's Day and I wanted to share it with you. I do not know the author of this wonderful piece.
The Invisible Mother
"It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel"; Is Jersey Shore on now?; I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
Some days I'm a crystal ball; "Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?"
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature-but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1.) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2.) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3.) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4.) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does."
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no hockey/soccer/piano/Scout/school meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at four in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, "You're gonna love it there!"
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know....I just did!"
Author-Unknown(PS- if you know the author of this piece, please let me know. I do want to give credit for their writing.)
DAYM
So if anyone asks you, "What have you been doing?" My answer:"I have been building three cathedrals."
The Invisible Mother
"It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?"
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm invisible. The invisible Mom. Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more! Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this?
Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel"; Is Jersey Shore on now?; I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."
Some days I'm a crystal ball; "Where's my other sock?, Where's my phone?, What's for dinner?"
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history, music and literature-but now, they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe . I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription: "With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."
In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:
1.) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.
2.) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.
3.) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
4.) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does."
No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've baked, no hockey/soccer/piano/Scout/school meeting, no last minute errand is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become.
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My Mom gets up at four in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, he'd say, "You're gonna love it there!"
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible mothers.
Share this with all the Invisible Moms you know....I just did!"
Author-Unknown(PS- if you know the author of this piece, please let me know. I do want to give credit for their writing.)
DAYM
So if anyone asks you, "What have you been doing?" My answer:"I have been building three cathedrals."
My Other Mother
1/12/12
My mother-in-law had a massive heart attack in December. I am in New Orleans today doing what she used to do for me whenever I needed her. "Help Out". "Can I help you?" "What can I do to help you?" I feel so blessed to have a mother-in-law who gives so much to others. I am grateful to have the opportunity to help her out during her recovery.
My mother-in-law is very kind and gentle. She is easy to get along with and my husband says if a person can't get along with his mother then they are not worth knowing! I agree.
When I met my future mother-in-law, I was very nervous. I had spoken to her on the phone numerous times but the anxiety of meeting my fiance's mother was looming over me like a dark cloud. Would she like me? Would I like her?
I met my husband's family at a picnic to celebrate his cousin's 50th birthday. It was a continuous 50 hour celebration that began on Friday and ended on Sunday. I had never heard of a 50 hour party. I knew then that his family liked to have fun.
When I walked into the inviting backyard, I felt at ease. Everyone was excited to meet me and I felt loved immediately. I still feel that way today almost 25 years after that marathon birthday celebration.
How did my mother-in-law learn how to be so nice to her daughter-in-law when so many mothers have an adversarial relationship their children's spouses? My mother-in-law followed the example set by her mother-in-law. My husband's grandmother lived across the street from her son, his wife and their 8 children. Yes, I said 8 children. My husband is number two of eight siblings. My husband's grandmother used to help cook, clean, wash clothes, iron, organize drawers...anything she could do to help her daughter-in-law.
The village that helped raise my husband and his siblings also included an aunt, who was a school teacher and read to the children daily. Older cousins who lived across the street who helped bathe the children every night. Another aunt who helped comb the hair of the three girls.
When I said a village, I meant a village that all lived on the same street in the same small town near New Orleans. I miss living near my other mother. When my oldest was only 5 weeks old, we moved to New Orleans. I had so many extra pairs of hands that I never needed to go very far to find a babysitter. My husband's cousin from Pennsylvania volunteered to babysit as soon as we landed. My husband's sisters and brothers all helped out whenever they could. My husband's brother even moved with me to Chicago to help out with my oldest daughter, when I had to relocate for work while my husband finished his residency in New Orleans.
My oldest daughter was showered with so much love as the first and only grandchild for more than 4 years on both sides of our family that I wondered if she would ever be able to be alone by herself. In her first few years, all of that attention did lead to a little spoiled princess. She is now 24 years old and has grown up to be a pretty well-adjusted young lady. I guess you can never have too much love.
When we lived in New Orleans, my other mother came to our house every Tuesday and Friday to do whatever I needed her to do upon my return to work full-time. I would go and stay with my husband's grandmother whenever my husband was on call and had to sleep in the hospital. When my oldest could not get to sleep at night, my other mother and other grandmother would take turns rocking her or pacing the floor with her in their arms while I tried to get some sleep.
Today, I am cooking some low sodium vegetable soup for my other mother while she recuperates. She also likes the way that I roll her hair. We even went out to lunch at her favorite local restaurant for a heart healthy meal. Just the two of us. It was a very special treat for me.
I can not imagine having a mother-in-law who was antagonistic or volatile. I feel so blessed to have my other mother. I just can't call her my mother-in-law any more. She is too special to me.
Wishing that everyone could have an other mother who is so loving, gentle and kind...
My mother-in-law had a massive heart attack in December. I am in New Orleans today doing what she used to do for me whenever I needed her. "Help Out". "Can I help you?" "What can I do to help you?" I feel so blessed to have a mother-in-law who gives so much to others. I am grateful to have the opportunity to help her out during her recovery.
My mother-in-law is very kind and gentle. She is easy to get along with and my husband says if a person can't get along with his mother then they are not worth knowing! I agree.
When I met my future mother-in-law, I was very nervous. I had spoken to her on the phone numerous times but the anxiety of meeting my fiance's mother was looming over me like a dark cloud. Would she like me? Would I like her?
I met my husband's family at a picnic to celebrate his cousin's 50th birthday. It was a continuous 50 hour celebration that began on Friday and ended on Sunday. I had never heard of a 50 hour party. I knew then that his family liked to have fun.
When I walked into the inviting backyard, I felt at ease. Everyone was excited to meet me and I felt loved immediately. I still feel that way today almost 25 years after that marathon birthday celebration.
How did my mother-in-law learn how to be so nice to her daughter-in-law when so many mothers have an adversarial relationship their children's spouses? My mother-in-law followed the example set by her mother-in-law. My husband's grandmother lived across the street from her son, his wife and their 8 children. Yes, I said 8 children. My husband is number two of eight siblings. My husband's grandmother used to help cook, clean, wash clothes, iron, organize drawers...anything she could do to help her daughter-in-law.
The village that helped raise my husband and his siblings also included an aunt, who was a school teacher and read to the children daily. Older cousins who lived across the street who helped bathe the children every night. Another aunt who helped comb the hair of the three girls.
When I said a village, I meant a village that all lived on the same street in the same small town near New Orleans. I miss living near my other mother. When my oldest was only 5 weeks old, we moved to New Orleans. I had so many extra pairs of hands that I never needed to go very far to find a babysitter. My husband's cousin from Pennsylvania volunteered to babysit as soon as we landed. My husband's sisters and brothers all helped out whenever they could. My husband's brother even moved with me to Chicago to help out with my oldest daughter, when I had to relocate for work while my husband finished his residency in New Orleans.
My oldest daughter was showered with so much love as the first and only grandchild for more than 4 years on both sides of our family that I wondered if she would ever be able to be alone by herself. In her first few years, all of that attention did lead to a little spoiled princess. She is now 24 years old and has grown up to be a pretty well-adjusted young lady. I guess you can never have too much love.
When we lived in New Orleans, my other mother came to our house every Tuesday and Friday to do whatever I needed her to do upon my return to work full-time. I would go and stay with my husband's grandmother whenever my husband was on call and had to sleep in the hospital. When my oldest could not get to sleep at night, my other mother and other grandmother would take turns rocking her or pacing the floor with her in their arms while I tried to get some sleep.
Today, I am cooking some low sodium vegetable soup for my other mother while she recuperates. She also likes the way that I roll her hair. We even went out to lunch at her favorite local restaurant for a heart healthy meal. Just the two of us. It was a very special treat for me.
I can not imagine having a mother-in-law who was antagonistic or volatile. I feel so blessed to have my other mother. I just can't call her my mother-in-law any more. She is too special to me.
Wishing that everyone could have an other mother who is so loving, gentle and kind...
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Happy Birthday
Happy Birthday!
May 15, 2012
24 Years Old!
Where did the time go? After 44 hours of labor, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl at NYU Hospital, 24 years ago on this day.
My husband and I had gone to see the movie, "Moonstruck". Afterwards, we walked over to Serendipity's and ate the largest banana split that I had ever seen in my life. It was our last date for a long time. I did not get the significance of going to the movies before going to the hospital, but I get it now. We did not go to see a movie without children for 22 years after our first child was born. Unfortunately, I have had too many banana splits since she was born.
I can not tell you how much my daughter has grown and matured over the years in this blog entry. I guess you will have to wait for my memoir to be published. I can tell you that I am so proud of the woman that she has become. I feel blessed to have her as my daughter. You don't get to pick your parents or your children. But if I did get to pick, I would pick her(and my other two children as well). They have made me a "Proud Mama".
Thank you for being born. Thank you for being an amazing young woman.
DAYM
May 15, 2012
24 Years Old!
Where did the time go? After 44 hours of labor, I gave birth to a healthy baby girl at NYU Hospital, 24 years ago on this day.
My husband and I had gone to see the movie, "Moonstruck". Afterwards, we walked over to Serendipity's and ate the largest banana split that I had ever seen in my life. It was our last date for a long time. I did not get the significance of going to the movies before going to the hospital, but I get it now. We did not go to see a movie without children for 22 years after our first child was born. Unfortunately, I have had too many banana splits since she was born.
I can not tell you how much my daughter has grown and matured over the years in this blog entry. I guess you will have to wait for my memoir to be published. I can tell you that I am so proud of the woman that she has become. I feel blessed to have her as my daughter. You don't get to pick your parents or your children. But if I did get to pick, I would pick her(and my other two children as well). They have made me a "Proud Mama".
Thank you for being born. Thank you for being an amazing young woman.
DAYM
Sunday, May 13, 2012
Excuses and Explanations
1-11-2012
It is another day and a new year. Where did the time go? I had hoped to finish my parenting memoir last year, but life got in the way. Here is the explanation.
Less than 4 months after his first concussion playing football, my son suffered another concussion playing a pick-up game of basketball. He called me that evening and sounded groggy and very tired. I instinctively suspected that something was wrong. He was told by his doctor to put his head in a bubble wrap and never play football or basketball again. The doctor said he might be able to play baseball one day.
My son explained to me that he was tired. His speech was slurred and he sounded fatigued. He did what most teenagers do when they know that they have made a mistake; they lie. He conveniently left out the fact that he had fallen and hit his head, again. When he finally confessed the next evening after a 4-hour bus trip, he was in so much pain that he had to tell the truth.
My mother’s intuition is very powerful. I feel as if I am synced to my children’s pains and emotions even when they are thousands of miles away. I can’t explain it but I have a premonition or a feeling that something is wrong. Or is it that I can hear it in their voices? I love the fact that I know my children so very well, but sometimes it is such a burden.
The reality of the second concussion cut through me like a knife. I was afraid that he would have recurring headaches or that he may never be able to finish high school or, even worse, that he could be hemorrhaging and die in his sleep. I prayed that he would feel better the next morning. When he called I was relieved to hear his voice. He still had an agonizing headache and was sensitive to light and noise. I thought, here we go again. I told him to go to the health center. He stayed in the infirmary from Friday until Wednesday. I called a car service on Wednesday, March 30, 2011, to have him taken to his sister’s apartment, 75 miles away from his school.
I live 500 miles away from his high school. I could not just go and pick him up. I was so upset and stressed that my immune system shut down and I got the flu on Monday. To make matters worse, my second child was waiting anxiously to hear from the colleges that she had applied to but had not yet gotten a decision from. The day that all of the rest of the decisions came via email was on the Wednesday that I had to withdraw my son from school because of the second concussion.
Stress is part of living but add three children, a husband, a dog, an elderly brother, an elderly mother and a mother-in-law that I feel responsible for as well as my immediate family, and you can see why I had to stop writing. I just could not compartmentalize all of the things that I needed to get done.
So, on that Wednesday my daughter got not one, not two, but three rejections in less than 5 minutes. Whoever came up with the idea that sending out rejections via email was a good idea was not a mother. Rejection is a little easier when you get a small envelope in the mail. You don’t have to open it and read the “let me down easy” words. You just know that you did not get into your first choice. You would probably not get three rejection letters on one day either. Snail mail...is slow.
I had to console her and let her know that I was so very proud of her. I also told her how lucky she was to have four great schools who wanted her! She had been so mature when she said early in the college process, “It is not about where you want to go to school, but who wants you.” I am happy to report that a year later she is attending an amazing college that she loves and is perfect for her. Life really does have a way of working itself out in the end.
I was so sick from the flu. I am sure that the stress in my life added to my recovery time. I finally drove the 8 hours to pick up my son a week after he told me the truth. When I saw him for the first time after the second concussion, I knew that he was in a lot of pain. He had tried to return to some of his normal activities, but it was obvious that his brain injury was going to take time to heal.
Doctor Mom assesses the health status of her children to make sure they are making the right decisions. Do they need more hugs and kisses, or do they need an MRI? Analyzing the physical condition of your child is a talent. Some moms do not have the talent to truly assess a situation. They sometimes make life-ending decisions when a cold becomes pneumonia and a child dies. Yes, this has happened to a mother that I know. It is life shattering when you think that your child is okay but they are not okay, and then they die.
I held my son in my arms, I looked him in the eyes, and I felt his pain. I knew that he was unable to return to school. I knew that he was physically wounded and emotionally fragile. He slept for 16 hours a day for the next two months. The terrible thing about brain injuries is that you can’t see them on an x-ray like a broken bone. You do not see a limp from a fractured brain. Many parents push their children to resume their normal activities too quickly. Medical research has shown that a brain needs time to heal even when you can’t see that it is broken.
My son returned to school in the fall of 2011 as a repeat sophomore. He is doing fine. He made the honor roll during his first and second trimesters after his return.
I have a great excuse why I did not post for over a year. I was taking care of my son. Now, I can finally breathe and write again.
Ambition knows no obstacles except when a mother experiences the limitations that the responsibilities for her children place upon her. As a mom, the one thing you should stay focused on is raising your children to become healthy and responsible adults. Raising a child to be an independent adult is a real job. Don’t ever let any one tell you that it is not.
DAYM
It is another day and a new year. Where did the time go? I had hoped to finish my parenting memoir last year, but life got in the way. Here is the explanation.
Less than 4 months after his first concussion playing football, my son suffered another concussion playing a pick-up game of basketball. He called me that evening and sounded groggy and very tired. I instinctively suspected that something was wrong. He was told by his doctor to put his head in a bubble wrap and never play football or basketball again. The doctor said he might be able to play baseball one day.
My son explained to me that he was tired. His speech was slurred and he sounded fatigued. He did what most teenagers do when they know that they have made a mistake; they lie. He conveniently left out the fact that he had fallen and hit his head, again. When he finally confessed the next evening after a 4-hour bus trip, he was in so much pain that he had to tell the truth.
My mother’s intuition is very powerful. I feel as if I am synced to my children’s pains and emotions even when they are thousands of miles away. I can’t explain it but I have a premonition or a feeling that something is wrong. Or is it that I can hear it in their voices? I love the fact that I know my children so very well, but sometimes it is such a burden.
The reality of the second concussion cut through me like a knife. I was afraid that he would have recurring headaches or that he may never be able to finish high school or, even worse, that he could be hemorrhaging and die in his sleep. I prayed that he would feel better the next morning. When he called I was relieved to hear his voice. He still had an agonizing headache and was sensitive to light and noise. I thought, here we go again. I told him to go to the health center. He stayed in the infirmary from Friday until Wednesday. I called a car service on Wednesday, March 30, 2011, to have him taken to his sister’s apartment, 75 miles away from his school.
I live 500 miles away from his high school. I could not just go and pick him up. I was so upset and stressed that my immune system shut down and I got the flu on Monday. To make matters worse, my second child was waiting anxiously to hear from the colleges that she had applied to but had not yet gotten a decision from. The day that all of the rest of the decisions came via email was on the Wednesday that I had to withdraw my son from school because of the second concussion.
Stress is part of living but add three children, a husband, a dog, an elderly brother, an elderly mother and a mother-in-law that I feel responsible for as well as my immediate family, and you can see why I had to stop writing. I just could not compartmentalize all of the things that I needed to get done.
So, on that Wednesday my daughter got not one, not two, but three rejections in less than 5 minutes. Whoever came up with the idea that sending out rejections via email was a good idea was not a mother. Rejection is a little easier when you get a small envelope in the mail. You don’t have to open it and read the “let me down easy” words. You just know that you did not get into your first choice. You would probably not get three rejection letters on one day either. Snail mail...is slow.
I had to console her and let her know that I was so very proud of her. I also told her how lucky she was to have four great schools who wanted her! She had been so mature when she said early in the college process, “It is not about where you want to go to school, but who wants you.” I am happy to report that a year later she is attending an amazing college that she loves and is perfect for her. Life really does have a way of working itself out in the end.
I was so sick from the flu. I am sure that the stress in my life added to my recovery time. I finally drove the 8 hours to pick up my son a week after he told me the truth. When I saw him for the first time after the second concussion, I knew that he was in a lot of pain. He had tried to return to some of his normal activities, but it was obvious that his brain injury was going to take time to heal.
Doctor Mom assesses the health status of her children to make sure they are making the right decisions. Do they need more hugs and kisses, or do they need an MRI? Analyzing the physical condition of your child is a talent. Some moms do not have the talent to truly assess a situation. They sometimes make life-ending decisions when a cold becomes pneumonia and a child dies. Yes, this has happened to a mother that I know. It is life shattering when you think that your child is okay but they are not okay, and then they die.
I held my son in my arms, I looked him in the eyes, and I felt his pain. I knew that he was unable to return to school. I knew that he was physically wounded and emotionally fragile. He slept for 16 hours a day for the next two months. The terrible thing about brain injuries is that you can’t see them on an x-ray like a broken bone. You do not see a limp from a fractured brain. Many parents push their children to resume their normal activities too quickly. Medical research has shown that a brain needs time to heal even when you can’t see that it is broken.
My son returned to school in the fall of 2011 as a repeat sophomore. He is doing fine. He made the honor roll during his first and second trimesters after his return.
I have a great excuse why I did not post for over a year. I was taking care of my son. Now, I can finally breathe and write again.
Ambition knows no obstacles except when a mother experiences the limitations that the responsibilities for her children place upon her. As a mom, the one thing you should stay focused on is raising your children to become healthy and responsible adults. Raising a child to be an independent adult is a real job. Don’t ever let any one tell you that it is not.
DAYM
Happy Mother's Day
I know that it has been a long time since you have seen anything that I have written. I have an entry devoted to "Excuses and Explanations" that I will post later.
Today is the day that I decided to get back on the treadmill and finish what I started; sharing my parenting diary. It is Mother's Day and I have so many wonderful memories of my children on this day. Where shall I begin?
My son used to get up very early on Mother's Day and climb into my bed and snuggle right next to me. He would be followed by his oldest sister who would claim my other side. Finally, his youngest sister would have to find a place at the foot of the bed. I felt sorry for my youngest daughter because she was always the last to wake up. At 19 years old she is still a night owl.
They would watch my favorite Sunday morning news show with me, Sunday Morning with Charles...on CBS. I have watched that show so long that there have been two hosts both named Charles. The news show was always educational and entertaining and the children always learned something new. They loved to watch the final segment that features a scenic location somewhere across America.
Next, I would smell the coffee that my husband had made. The children would then run down downstairs. I was ordered to stay in bed until my breakfast was served to me. They would watch to make sure that I approved of the toast and eggs that they had prepared with a little help from their father. There would sometimes be a single flower in a vase on the bed tray. I was so happy and felt so loved.
Today is the second Mother's Day that I have not heard the pitter-patter of small or large feet. I miss the days when the children were young but I love the young adults that they have become. Next Sunday I will celebrate my Mother's Day when we are all together again for a day. We will have dinner, and I will be glad that I have three wonderful children whom I love very much.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers in the world! Enjoy your special day no matter when you get to celebrate it.
DAYM
Today is the day that I decided to get back on the treadmill and finish what I started; sharing my parenting diary. It is Mother's Day and I have so many wonderful memories of my children on this day. Where shall I begin?
My son used to get up very early on Mother's Day and climb into my bed and snuggle right next to me. He would be followed by his oldest sister who would claim my other side. Finally, his youngest sister would have to find a place at the foot of the bed. I felt sorry for my youngest daughter because she was always the last to wake up. At 19 years old she is still a night owl.
They would watch my favorite Sunday morning news show with me, Sunday Morning with Charles...on CBS. I have watched that show so long that there have been two hosts both named Charles. The news show was always educational and entertaining and the children always learned something new. They loved to watch the final segment that features a scenic location somewhere across America.
Next, I would smell the coffee that my husband had made. The children would then run down downstairs. I was ordered to stay in bed until my breakfast was served to me. They would watch to make sure that I approved of the toast and eggs that they had prepared with a little help from their father. There would sometimes be a single flower in a vase on the bed tray. I was so happy and felt so loved.
Today is the second Mother's Day that I have not heard the pitter-patter of small or large feet. I miss the days when the children were young but I love the young adults that they have become. Next Sunday I will celebrate my Mother's Day when we are all together again for a day. We will have dinner, and I will be glad that I have three wonderful children whom I love very much.
Happy Mother's Day to all the mothers in the world! Enjoy your special day no matter when you get to celebrate it.
DAYM
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