Tag: school

Some people are more equal than others.

Ideas are like seeds being planted in your mind. We don’t always have control of the seeds that are throw to us, but we do have control of the soil. In this way, we get to decide how our garden will grow. Manicured and simple. Full of poison and thorns. Wild and unknown. A labyrinth. Filled with food. We decide based on what we pull out and what we nurture. How much effort we’re willing to put in and the people we put ourselves around, who are throwing seeds. How acidic the soil is, and what trees we have growing from the past. Try as you might, the soil below a large pine will not allow you to grow certain plants below it.

A couple weeks ago I saw a post on Facebook. My Facebook is pretty diverse when it comes to religion, politics, and life choices. So very often I see things I don’t agree with. So that was no surprise. What has surprised me is how much I keep thinking about it. See, I have been spending a lot of time lately pulling weeds. Uprooting trees. I have been working on my soil to help things grow. That seed that was planted? That seed has been thrown on my soil before. But it dried up. So when I saw it thrown my direction again, I anticipated the same result. But my soil isn’t the same. My soil is rich with nutrients. And that seed took root and is growing. So now I’m forced to acknowledge this plant growing. I have to decide whether to pull it up or water it.

“We must do away with the absolutely specious notion that everybody has to earn a living….” Buckminster Fuller

The post I read was the full quote. But within the first sentence I knew I disagreed. I’m a hard worker, and I was raised to take pride in my work. You don’t work you don’t eat. The story of The Ant and the Grasshopper made a brief appearance in my mind. You cannot live your life playing and then expect those working to support you. Teaching a man to fish verses giving him a fish.

“We keep inventing jobs because of this false idea that everybody has to be employed at some kind of drudgery. Because, according to Malthusian-Darwinian theory, he must justify his right to exist.”

Justify his right to exist? I wouldn’t go that far. And we may invent some jobs, but I would say we Americans spend more time creating more “all ready invented” jobs. During our last election this was a huge thing. With the worry of unemployment and layoffs, I heard a LOT of people talking about job creation. There aren’t enough jobs and people need to work to support their families.

I also thought about work ethic. Working a less-than-desirable job definitely gives you appreciation for hard work and a lot of humility. If people didn’t work, how would they experience the struggle that has helped me form into who I am? What do they say about Idle Hands?

Then I started thinking about if I had my necessities met. Just my necessities. A place to live, food to eat, heating/cooling and electric, and health care for my children and me. What would I be doing? I would be home with my kids. I would be homeschooling them. I would have a chore chart. I would be maintaining a garden and teaching my kids with hands on lessons of cooking and animals and science experiments. I would still be working, but not as much. And the money I made from work would be invested in my kids, our home, and myself. The money would be used for house repairs, a vehicle, internet access, and travel. I would take another trip to do humanitarian work. I would take art classes. I would do more with theatre. I would read more. I would learn a language with my kids (they have been begging for us to all learn German as a family). I would help my kids learn what they love. What their gifts are. What their passion is.

Quick detour. Have you ever met someone and thought, how are you so successful? Like, they really have nothing to offer. Mediocre intelligence. Very limited world view. No talent. And yet, they are making over 10X what you make. I remember one guy in particular. He was always so impressed by how smart I seemed “considering I don’t have a degree.” He would tell me, “If you went to college, you could be way more successful. You have so much potential! It’s sad you’re working at a coffee shop when you could probably do my job better than me, ha!”

We all have different goals. My goal is not wealth. Rags to Riches stories, while interesting, don’t motivate me. While I appreciate my material things, they are disposable. I asked myself, if I had my needs met, what would be something I would work extra for in order to obtain? Travel. Art. Learning new things. Humanitarian work.

What if our needs were met. Just the basic ones. We would still have those who wanted to be rich. We would still have those who were lazy. We would still have to work. The difference is, we would be allowed to decide. If you wanted a huge house and lots if things, you could choose to work more. If you decide you would rather live modestly so you could be home with your kids, you could do that. But what about the freeloaders who wont work? Well. If they want that kind of poor, meaningless life, so be it. What does it matter to you? I mean, I’m not talking steak dinners and mansions. Food in the cupboard, a warm house, and freedom from/treatment for disease just means the rest of society is protected.

What would happen if those with actual talent could explore it? What would happen if all that “potential” could be met? What would happen if someone’s intelligence outweighed someone’s financial circumstance?

What would happen? We would thrive. Good parents would still instill work ethic in their children. Bad parents would still neglect it. Caring people would still want to help others. Selfish people would still take all they can get. The difference is, we would all have a choice. Ask a poor person if they have a choice right now. Ask them how many jobs they work and what they have to sacrifice so their kids don’t starve. Ask them about how expensive it is to be poor.

I am not against capitalism. I want our inventors to invent. I want our artists to create. I want every person to be able to listen to that gift they have and embrace it. We are all given certain passions inside of us. Animals. Children. Writing. Botany. Technology. Music. Cars. Every single person has something that pumps them up for life.

“The true business of people should be to go back to school and think about whatever it was they were thinking about before someone came along and told them they had to earn a living.”

How different things would be if we ran our Healthcare System and education system like a non-profit. If no one could get rich off the sick. If the poor had the same educational opportunities as the rich without having to join the military. If every family knew they had a house, electric, and food.

I can’t count the amount of times in my life I have said, “pull yourself up by your bootstraps”. Then, when the time came in my life that I needed to practice what I preached, I reach down for my boot straps only to find that someone found a way to make money off boot straps and had hiked the price up to make money off of my struggle.

We have been taught that the poor deserve their lot in life. And that the rich deserve their wealth. Why? Because admitting that the poor don’t have a choice and that we’re allowing others to profit off their suffering is a hard pill to swallow. We have to admit that while we say all are equal, we have been conditioned to feel superior to the poor. We have been told our stability is earned by hard work and therefore the poor must be lazy. If we acknowledge how much of an advantage having our basic needs met makes, then we are faced a choice. Continue to treat the poor as inferior, or work for change and equality. The seeds have been planted. You decide if you will let them grow.

Back to School: The ADHD Parent

Wide Lawns and Narrow Minds: Back to School: The 70s vs. Today, A Lot has Changed:

http://widelawns.blogspot.com/2014/08/back-to-school-70s-vs-today-lot-has.html?m=1

This blog had me giggling to myself. It was predictable, but pleasantly so. I decided to add to it. I want to give my ADHD back to school response. Anyone who is “Shiny”, as we call it in the ADHD community, knows what an absurdly trying task getting our little ones off to school in this day of age is.

1. Two weeks before school starts, realize the fast approaching date, but refuse to think about it. Make sure that anytime your children bring it up, silence them immediately. Tell them you have plenty of time, and to not worry about it.

2. Tell yourself, and your children you will begin adjusting to the school year schedule by early bedtimes and more structure. Then decide to stay up late with them watching Frozen again, because it’s still summer and you can go to bed early tomorrow night.

3. About a week before school starts, pick up the packets. Whine and cry about it to everyone.

4. Decide you need to sort everything in your house this week to get ready. Do all the laundry, but leave it in a heap on the couch. Make sure to walk carefully around all piles of paperwork that are “almost done” being sorted. And keep the toy room door closed so the kids don’t accidentally mix your sorted piles in with the not sorted piles. Don’t actually finish any of these started tasks. Instead, decide to organize your nail polishes or clean out your email inbox.

5. The day before school starts, realize you haven’t purchased any supplies. Try to remember what you bought on clearance last year, and where you put it. Realize you have no idea, and head to the store. Once at the store, remember you have ADHD and you cannot do hardcore, specific, shopping with small children there and leave the store.

6. Tell the kids that bedtime is at 8. Then pace around the house (but never actually do anything) until 8:05, then realize you can’t remember the last time your kids had a bath. Start baths, and finally at about 9:15, get them in bed.

7. Talk to your significant other for at leat an hour about how much you dislike back to school, how unprepared you are, and tell him you need to go to the store still. Start to grab your purse, then, talk to your significant other for another hour about how next year you’re going to plan better and not be so overwhelmed.

8. Finally go to the store. Look through the very specific, very long, list of needs. Make sure to only do one kid at a time. So that you have to revisit each aisle at least 3-10 times.

9. Now, feeling relieved, head to the check out. Then remember you have no food for lunches. Grab a loaf of the closest bread, a package of cheap bologna, a bag of apples, and the cheapest juice boxes you can find. Now you can leave.

10. Unload all the newly purchased items and sit on the floor with a bag and a sharpie.

11. Make a pile for each kid. Then open every item and write their name on them. (On the items you don’t know if they are supposed to be labeled, because you lost that sheet that tells you, just put initials…so they’re easier to skribble out). Make sure to be quiet now, because it’s 3am and everyone’s sleeping. But Shhhing the cat is fine. Because she keeps knocking over everthing and trying to play with the bags and trash.

12. At 4 am, feel accomplished. Crack open a beer. Then, remember you never washed the new clothes or underpants the kids want to wear in the morning. Start a load and sit on social media (probably your ADHD support group, since theyre all still up too) and wait. At 5am, put the clothes in the dryer and head to bed.

13. Wake up late, frantically yell at the kids, and manage to get all of them and their bags in the car. Start your commute, and breathe. Then notice your 7 year old didn’t brush her hair. And when your 9 year old smiles, ask her if she brushed her teeth. She didn’t. Look for a tissue and realize there are none. Take a piece of paper and crumple it up. Hand it to her and tell her to scrap her teeth. Then spray her mouth with Listerine spray and tell her you don’t care if it’s gross, maybe next time she’ll brush before she leaves.

12. Get to the school 3 min before it starts. Rush in, and wait as each kid uses the potty before you head to the class. Then make sure to very loudly bang into the door on your way into the classroom, and interrupt the teacher’s welcome speech. Try to sneak a pic of your child at their desk, but only receive a “hurry up” look.

13. Drive home, set an alarm for the afternoon, cry a little out of shear exhaustion, and pass out.

I Should Get an A for Effort

Do you remember in school that combination of nervousness and excitement of conferences? Maybe not the later years, but in elementary school, it’s exciting to see your mom and dad proud of you, yet nerve racking that maybe you weren’t nearly as great as you thought. Well, for my non parent friends, I would like you to know that it’s the same feeling when your kids have conferences. I am not sure of how they are now versus 20 years ago, but my experiences is full of anxiety. Don’t get me wrong, I know that my kids are amazing, so I most likely will get to hear about how wonderful they are, but I know any negatives will most definitely be my fault. 

My oldest daughter, Audrey, is a very smart, funny, shy, contemplative child. Full of curiosity and a great comprehension of anything taught, I know that she is doing well academically. So I sit and listen to the teacher rave about her. How well she does on tests, how advanced she is in subjects, and how great it is to have her in her class. Then the pause….BUT….  I knew it was coming. One issue I needed to resolve was tardiness. Yuck. I knew this would be brought up. Why is she always late? You are the mother, and it IS your responsibility to get your children to the school on time. She does so much better when she’s here early. etc. I, of course, heard all these things and became very emotional about the subject because all I heard while she said these things was, “You’re failing motherhood! You’re not doing your job! Your child is lacking because you’re so flipping incompetent!” This teacher did not say these things, but definitely perceived her criticism as a personal attack on my ability as a mother. 

I tried to explain myself, but within a couple min of talking, I realized I sounded like the biggest excuse maker in the world. A “the dog ate my homework” excuse would have been better received than my reasons. After we addressed other issues, I left and proceeded to sit in my car having myself a good ugly cry. After thoroughly wiping the fluids from every hole in my face with some left over McDonald’s napkins, I went on my way.

Why the heck did this affect me so strongly? I’m sure there are parents in there that have to hear about what a little shit Tommy is, or how far behind academically Sally is. My child is doing awesome. I should be leaving with a sense of pride and happiness. Not snot and Alice Cooper eye makeup. 

The reason is because this is a subject I kind of feel helpless on. When people ask why we  late,are I always want to reply the same way. Which reason would you like? The time that Genevieve decided she had to poop before we left? Or maybe the time I leaned over and spilled my coffee all over the kitchen floor. Or we could go with the time that the girls decided to use one of there shoes to tie up a fort they made, so I had to spend 10 min untying knots. Or our most common occurrence, bus #12. Yes. There is actually one bus that has made us late numerous occasions. If, in the last 3 min of our drive to school we get behind this particular bus, it takes us an additional 5-10 min. And these are just normal days. I won’t even begin to give examples of what the winter months in Michigan hold for my family. Which reason is your favorite? 

Today, like a super mom, I managed to have everyone ready to go out the door EARLY. Then it happened. That moment the universe realizes it was not paying nearly enough attention, and forgot to throw some crap your way. My 4 year old was upset because she wanted to wear a very wrinkly blue and white dress. With black pants under. And she no longer liked her sparkly shoes. They were “too sparkly”. In the mean time, my 7 and 9 year old were “getting in the car”, which really means, we’re going to run around outside and hopefully find some puddles to jump in. And while we’re at it, maybe we can find a way to get a bit of dirt on various places of our body. So, I told my very upset 4 year old that the blue dress is beautiful, and pants are a great idea, and I understand that sparkly shoes were so “last week” but she’s stuck with them. And no you can’t have candy with your breakfast. Finally, which feels like an eternity, I load all the kids in the car. Ok. We wont be early, but we can still make it on time. Until about 10 min into our 35 min drive. “Oh no! I forgot my swim stuff!” My brain quickly reasons out the proper response. I really want to say, “Well, that’s unfortunate for you. I guess when you said you were ready and had everything for school, you didn’t really check. Guess you won’t be swimming today.” Then I realize that it would most definitely result in a talk with me about how I’m the parent, and thus, responsible to make sure my child has what she needs for school. I weigh out which scolding I would prefer, that, or the “late again?” one. I turn around and head back to the house to retrieve the forgotten bag. Following 2 buses, and having to wait for traffic to be guided around an accident were just the frosting on “C’mon!” cake we had this morning. My kids were 20 min late. 

So dear friends, when I say I’m sorry for being late, I am sincere. When I don’t feel the need to explain, making myself seem indifferent, I am not. Just know, that the reason for my “whatever” approach to our tardiness isn’t because I don’t care about punctuality, it’s because the reasons are usually so absurd, and happen so often, I just have to let it go.