Lately, it seems as if my job has become more social worker, psychologist and Peanuts-style-Lucy-advice-giver than investigator. I’m okay with that because it means maybe I can help a family before law enforcement actually has to step-in and take action that is more permanent in nature. I’m not trained in any specific field, but I’ve done a lot of research and I’ve had two kids of my own who are doing okay. Combine that with the fact I was a bit of a hellion as a teenager (and from time to time today), I can see the world in a perspective that is sometimes unique.
I had a conversation the other day with a parent who has done everything for their child, has battled all of their battles for them and now is having problems with him. I had to ask them, “Why did you do this?”
I know it’s hard as a parent to see your child suffer, but there are natural consequences to one’s actions and I believe it’s not to early to start teaching your children that. If you touch a hot stove, you will get burned. Depending on the age of the child, you might pull their hand away and spank it. For older kids, they might actually touch the stove and realize, “When I touch it, it IS hot.” If you don’t follow the logical progression of teaching a younger child natural consequences, then when that child becomes a teenager, problems ensue.
This parent called me because he couldn’t get his son up for school. He’s gone so far as to set his own alarm an hour and a half early so he can start the process of nagging, scolding, yelling, yanking the covers off the bed, turning the radio up loud, using water as a wake up device, pulling his son out of the bed and dragging him to the closet…. well, you get the idea. I asked him why he was doing that. He said if he didn’t do that his son wouldn’t get up and would miss the bus then he would have to take him and be late to work himself.
Can you say enabling?
I understand the school district’s policy on tardies and absences and a parent’s responsibility to take one’s child to school. However, this kid is almost 17 years old. At what point do you say enough already? And that’s exactly what I asked him.
He was stunned by my question so I asked him again and was met by silence.
I explained. In another year, this kid will graduate and then probably go to college. He’ll get a job. I asked him, “Are you going to be getting him up for college or awake in time for work everyday? Are you going to call his boss and explain to him that he’s late or write him a note or take him to his job because he just couldn’t get it together to get up on time? At what point do you say, ‘Enough?'”
I also asked him what time this kid goes to bed. He said that it’s anywhere between 10pm and 2am. I have teenagers, one of which carries a heck of a course load, but there is NO need for a regular 2am bedtime when you have to get up early for school. Teenagers need a recommended NINE hours of sleep a night. (Resource: National sleep foundation) Obviously that’s not going to happen and things are going to suffer. No wonder that kid can’t get out of bed. He’s working against a biological drive to sleep.
He said I made a very valid point he hadn’t thought about and thanked me for my time.
A few days later, he called me back. He told me that night when his son came home he basically threw down the gauntlet and told him to set his alarm and to be in bed no later than 10pm on school nights; he was no longer waking him up for school and if he missed his bus, he could walk. Apparently his son didn’t buy it. His son woke up about 11am and called his father at work to take him. Dad stood firm and told him, “You have two legs. Use them.” The day after that, he didn’t wake him up again and the son again missed the bus. He called his father and apparently begged him to pick him up and take him to school. Dad told him, “Son, I can’t do that because you need to learn to do some things on your own. This is one of them. Do it.” On the third day, his son was up and ready to meet the bus.
I’d like to say that all is going to be perfect, but we all know that bad habits are hard to break. I’m glad that this father is working toward instilling new, healthy ones in his son before it’s way too late.
The School of Hard Knocks isn’t an easy one. However, I believe that as our children become older, we have to give them more responsibility to do some things on their own and make their own mistakes. After all, if we don’t do that, we haven’t properly prepared them for the adult world that is to follow and that’s not the School of Hard Knocks. It’s the World of Hard Knocks.
I’ve been thinking about vacation as it’s been awhile since I’ve been on a good one. One of my favorite places in the universe is New York City, but there are a lot of other places in the world I want to experience – most of them in Europe. The one I’ve really been thinking about lately for some reason is Germany.
When I was in junior high school, I spent a few years learning to speak German from a woman we not-so-lovingly referred to as Frau Hitler. I wasn’t very fond of her, nor she of me. Mutual animosity aside, I did fall in love with what I learned about the country itself. She saw the country through the rose colored glasses of a child and I could appreciate that. She could also speak with a bitterness about a leader who torn her homeland apart, but she didn’t do that often.
I was young and I didn’t understand much about the war that destroyed Europe and left a visible scar running the length of Berlin. A few years later, I had learned more about the war and the senseless death and destruction that was wrought on that country by a mad-man. I watched with pride as Ronald Reagan stood at the Brandenburg Gate and told Mikhail Gorbachev, the General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, “Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall, Mr. Gorbachev open this Gate.” I watched the wall fall in 1989. After that, the Brandenburg Gate became the symbol of Germany’s reunification.
I want to see that gate today.
I want to see what remains of the wall.
And I want to put into perspective what it all means up close and personal.
There are a bunch of other places in Germany I also want to see while I’m at it including, but not limited to the Black Forest, Neuschwanstein Castle (which the castle at DisneyLand/DisneyWorld is based on), the Cathedral of Cologne, Trier – Germany’s oldest city, and the Christmas market in Nuremberg. Of course, there is also Frankfurt, Hamburg, Dresden, Heidelberg and we cannot forget Munich and Berlin. Wow… I suppose this is going to have to be a visit that lasts quite awhile, eh? I guess it’s time to start saving.
I guess Florida Scott Maxwell was right… ” No matter how old a mother is, she watches her middle-aged children for signs of improvement.”
Today, I’m not feeling improved. I am feeling pretty spoiled though. Darling Hubby made me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and mowed the lawn today. Yes indeedy. Pretty spoiled.
Call 911 for emergency help. If you really don’t think it’s that bad, then at least call Poison Control for advice on handling the after-effects of exposure and cleaning up the chemicals. The number for Poison Control is:1-800-222-1222
“And now,” cried Max, “let the wild rumpus start!”
My father was a gifted story-teller and I thank him for the many nights he read to me as a child. He did so of his own works and he read stories others had written as well. One night, he read me a book that inspired my love of fantasy and science fiction that I carry to this day. That book is “Where the Wild Things Are” by Maurice Sendak.
Maurice’s book transcended generations of young children and their parents alike. He took away the boundary lines and gave us something that is oh so memorable. You see, the way I look at it everyone has fears whether they are a child or not and those fears need to be addressed, not sugar-coated or pushed aside like they don’t matter. I think Mr. Sendak agreed with me by something he once said. He said, “. . .from their earliest years children live on familiar terms with disrupting emotions, fear and anxiety are an intrinsic part of their everyday lives, they continually cope with frustrations as best they can. And it is through fantasy that children achieve catharsis. It is the best means they have for taming Wild Things.”
This man wrote and illustrated more than 50 children’s books. But the legacy of “Where the Wild Things Are” will live on for an eternity
“But the wild things cried, “Oh please don’t go – we’ll eat you up – we love you so!”
And Max said, “No!”
The wild things roared their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws but Max stepped into his private boat and waved goodbye.”– Maurice Sendak-
“If dogs could talk, perhaps we would find it as hard to get along with them as we do with people.”
I love dogs. I must for I have three, each with personalities as individual as you or I. One of my herd, Maverick – the Amazing Beardie, appears to have been blessed with the most personality and is a constant source of amusement and frustration for all of us. This morning was no exception.
Occasionally, I have to move to the couch in the middle of the night because Darling snores. I don’t necessarily like it, but came to accept it years ago. It makes for a much better night this way. Maverick hasn’t quite grasped the concept of letting sleeping writers sleep. This morning about 0500 hours, I was right in the middle of a pizza dream. (I know it was a pizza dream because it was weird enough that I was like, “Duuuuuude.” And now with the light of day, I can’t freakin’ remember it. Stupid dog.)
However, he comes up and nose bumps me.
The nose bump.
Guaranteed to get your attention.
Almost guaranteed to get a dog shot.
What is it you might ask? Well… Maverick is tall enough that his head can pretty comfortably sit on my dining room table so he’s a pretty big dog and could theoretically use his size to great advantage. But instead, when you are sound asleep and the “Dog Stare” doesn’t wake up you, he comes and bumps your face with his nose. It’s all rather Snoopy and Charlie Brown. Unlike Snoopy, it’s not nearly as cute at 0500 hours.
Maverick nose bumped me at 0500. I told him in no uncertain terms to go lay down and leave me alone.
Maverick nose bumped me again at 0530. I got up and let him outside under the assumption he really had to go. I didn’t want an accident and I didn’t want to clean it up.
THE MOMENT I let him out and shut the door. He began talking to a friend of his.
It’s not like he could have waited a couple of hours I suppose, but really?
So, I opened the door and “yelled” at him to quit talking about the squirrels or birds or what have you and to come – back – inside – now!
He came. Shock.
I went and laid back down and from my perch on the couch I told him, “Dufus. Lay down.”
I just got back to sleep and just started another pizza dream.
The alarm went off one minute later. Yes. One. Instead of hitting the snooze, I bonked him back.
Ah…. “Smash” was on tonight and I missed the first twenty minutes. However, I have to say I think I got the gist of the show and next week I won’t miss the season finale. In the meanwhile, I will probably have to see if it’s on NBC.com or Hulu and catch what I missed. In case you wondered, the answer is yes.
Tomorrow I have a training session for half the day at work and I can honestly say that I really don’t want to go. It’s not that I want to listen to the construction crew jackhammer the concrete walls and ceiling during the remodel tomorrow either. (That’s getting really, really old.) However, the program “they” are “demonstrating” for four hours, I have been using for a while now. I’m pretty sure I need about 20 minutes to fill in some blanks and I’m good. There are people I’m sure that need the full four hours. Heck, there are some that might need more than that. Who knows? But I am not one of them and I am considering taking my Nook to class to read for a bit. Would that be horribly wrong of me? (Anyone have a good book to recommend?)
Anyhoo, I’ve been having what my niece and I call “Pizza Dreams” at night. Usually they occur when we eat pizza a little too late, but I have to say some serious weirdness is going on in my subconscious. I’m thinking Freud might have some kind of field day with the old gray matter, if ya know what I mean. This morning I woke up in the middle of a flight to God only knows where, but the plane was upside down and Kurt Russell was the pilot. And I’m not talking a little plane. I’m talking about a Boeing 737/747 or something along those lines.
Yeah… rut-roh Shaggy!
I have no idea where on earth Kurt Russell would have come from either. I haven’t seen a movie, read a news article, or anything with him in it. But BOOM! There he was.
So, I suppose I’m going to go to bed shortly… and yes, I had pizza for dinner tonight. God help us all.