The Days of Princesses and Chicken Nuggets

As this was a holiday weekend, everyone in our home had a 3 day weekend.  The teen, he got even more, as he got a “hurricane day” on Thursday (his school, in the next county, was actually open, but I kept him home, the schools in ours were closed), and Friday was a scheduled day off for a Teacher Work Day.  On Saturday, my husband asked the teen if there was anything he’d like to do, anywhere he’d like to go this weekend.  Nope, nothing.

You’ve got to know what to ask.  I asked him yesterday if he’d like to go to Disney Springs, as I knew he was intrigued about a new store there, Trophy Room, affiliated with Michael Jordan.  He said yes, as long as he could “relax” on Sunday.  Relax? I’m not sure I’ve seen him leave his room since Wednesday after school, but at least he agreed to put on shoes and leave the confines or our property for a while.

We are Disney passholders, I can’t even count how many times we’ve been there over the years.  Today, however, I was a bit amused by the differences between when my son was younger and now.

At 5 years old, he would be awake at sunrise, ready to go.  At the parks, we HAD to wait in line to see Mickey, and even more importantly, Minnie and Daisy Duck, and perhaps a princess or two.  Every gift shop that had stuffed animals was a must do, and I’m pretty sure we never left without a new one.  Ice cream and popcorn and candy called his name at every possible location.  When at Disney Springs (which was then called Downtown Disney), we spent most of our time in the toy store, the pin store and carts, and the water fountains that the kids could run in.  I’ve even had to buy him new expensive Disney clothes in one of the shops (hmm, perhaps that was his plan), because his wet clothes from the fountains he spent HOURS in would irritate him to the point of tears.  When he got hungry, we’d get chicken nuggets for him at McDonalds.  He spent the day saying “I love you” and hugging me because he was so happy.

Today, he had one goal, to go the Trophy Room.  I had to wake him up at 9:30 this morning, and he slept in the car all the way there.  Though he has a good bit of money still left from Christmas and his birthday and for getting all “A’s”, he bought nothing there. He wanted nothing to eat, and when I got lunch, which was a bigger portion than I could eat, he wouldn’t even eat half (though he did eat my entire side of homemade pickles).  I couldn’t tempt him with cupcakes or candy.  As far as McDonald’s, it’s no longer there, and that is alright as he hasn’t eaten at McDonalds in years, because it is “not real food.”  As we walked through the new part of Disney Springs, with which we are not familiar, I asked him if he wanted to look at the directory to find his store.  He said no, that I should just pick a direction, only for him to tell me 5 minutes later that I picked the wrong one.  He spent our time telling me I was blind because I didn’t notice that there were a lot of people in FSU shirts, and that I didn’t notice a selfie stick.  He didn’t want to go in the toy store at all, and about the time we reached that far, he asked if I was ready to go.

At least he still enjoyed smelling the soap with me in Basin, and getting his free chocolate sample in Ghiradelli.

Kids grow up so fast, take advantage of every moment. That’s why they have wine.

*And I do know he still actually had a good time, because when we got in the car to go back home, he said “I love you, Mom.”  That is Aiden-code for “Thanks, I had fun.”  That, and he was a little taken aback when I told him when he and I go for an overnight at Disney next month, after I drop him off at school in the morning, I’m going back to Disney Springs to do some shopping while he’s in school.  A mom needs a little quiet shopping time sometimes, where she doesn’t have to worry about what team’s jerseys people are wearing!*

The Rise of the Bullies

You have to be nice and you have to be respectful.

Those are the rules my now teenage son has had since he was a toddler.  That’s it. When you follow those, you don’t need a lot of other rules.  You don’t lie, you don’t be mean, you share, you listen to authority, you do as your parents say, you do your homework on time, you follow through on promises….it all falls under that umbrella.  Does he break them sometimes?  Sure, he’s human, but on the whole, he’s a pretty nice, respectful kid.

I tell him that people don’t have to like us, and we don’t have to like them, but we need to be nice and be respectful to them, even if they are not to us.  It doesn’t mean never expressing our opinion, never disagreeing, or letting anyone use us as a doormat.  You just do those things without being a bully.

Bullying has started becoming out of control, specifically on the internet.  And I’m not just talking about kids, I’m talking about adults, many of which would never speak the same things in person.

It is completely possible to share parenting ideas, discuss politics or religion, or post something funny while still being both nice and respectful. Some days, reading through my Facebook feed, you’d never guess that however.  There is a huge difference between saying “This is what I believe” and “Anyone who doesn’t believe this is an idiot.”  You can express your political opinion without commenting on the attractiveness of the politician.  And when you call anyone judgmental for disagreeing, tell them they are not allowed to feel offense, or that they can’t be your friend if they say anything that slightly opposes you, that is the icing on the bully cake.

A lot of bullying seems to be done through memes.  Maybe we feel that if it’s not actually our quote, it isn’t so bad?  I often read these things and wonder, if you were chatting with me at our kid’s baseball game, would you say to me that I’m just a simpleminded person who believes in sky fairies and thinks I can just pray to win the lottery?  At a birthday party, would you tell my 15 year old his disability is made up and he’s just a brat with horrible parents?  At work, would you tell me you are obviously smarter than me because I didn’t vote for the candidate you did?  No?  I didn’t think so, so why are you doing it on the internet?

There really is something to the idea that people are often too easily offended, but the key word there is "easily."  Sometimes we are truly being offensive.  Those being offended by your post have the right to be, just as much as you have the right to say what you want, or excuse it as "just being honest."  Do you really need to be purposefully hurtful to express yourself?

I enjoy discussion on various topics.  I have online connections with people of various backgrounds and beliefs.  I am offended by little, and I not only recognize, but appreciate good sarcasm.  I will often read your posts and links that reflect a different opinion than I have with great interest and sometimes learn some new stuff.  However, I am really getting tired of the bullies.  I start reading something that sounds very intelligent, and then it ends with “and you are stupid if you think otherwise.”  Even if I agreed with you up till then, I’m just completely turned off by the post after that. 

I’ve started quietly hiding certain people’s posts, unliking pages, and in some cases even “unfriending” online the bullies – not someone who has a bad day and says something they later realize they shouldn’t have, but those that continually put down others in their posts.  It makes you feel again like there might still be hope for humanity when you aren’t bombarded by the negativity every day.

Just be nice and be respectful.

That’s why they have wine.

What Happened To Compassion?

As I sit here online applying a Passholder discount code to our reservations this fall at Disney’s Yacht and Beach Club resort, I can’t help feeling a little guilty.

Guilty because Disney is my happy place, my escape, the place I can go and actually not think about anything going on in the rest of the world or the rest of my life.

Guilty because my son recently listed Disney on a school project as his favorite place to go on vacation.

Guilty because we are Florida residents and passholders who have been to Disney more times than we can possibly count and have always had a good experience.

Guilty because we’ve sat on the resort “beaches,” at night, on various bodies of water, goofing around and having a great time, since my son was a toddler.

Guilty because my now teen and I have joked about alligators being on the shore trying to scare each other.

There is a family who went to the Walt Disney World Resort this week hoping for fun, happiness, and a lot of great memories.  That family had something very tragic and random and heartbreaking happen.  This will never be their happy place, their favorite vacation, happy memories.  They have to go home without a member of their family.  Their little boy will never be a teen like mine is. This wasn’t supposed to happen.  They are filled with grief, anger, sadness. 

And they have all the perfect people, parents and non-parents alike, judging them and scrutinizing their actions, and having to place blame somewhere.  They were just spending time having fun as a family, drawing closer to each other, and relaxing.  This was a freak act of nature. They deserve our prayers, our understanding, and our tears.  Can’t we even do that?

That’s why they have wine.

We Are ALL In This Together

A terrorist attack happened on US soil, a terrorist attack, A TERRORIST ATTACK, on the early morning hours of June 12.

It is scary.  It is sad.  It’s difficult to process.

When this happened on September 11, 2001, we united in shock as a nation.  We didn’t know what to think.  We didn’t know what to do.  We didn’t know how to react.  We said we would never forget, but, somehow, we seem to have forgotten.  We’re not a country united, we are a county torn apart.  In the last 36 hours or so, my social media feed is filled with posts scolding people for not reacting “correctly.”

So what is the correct reaction?  If I read through those posts, I am to presume it means to hate all religions.  To not understand that being Muslim and of middle eastern descent are not the same thing.  To ban all “machine guns” and “automatic weapons” which already are prohibited to be bought by your average American and were not used in this attack (nor any other mass shooting that gets referenced).  To not find this to be an attack on Americans or our country, but that it was an attack solely on gays (because somehow they don’t fit in the American group?) To not, God forbid, go to your kid’s soccer game or be proud of an accomplishment they had or stress out over your job or make dinner….or any other normal activity in your life.  To feel guilty for not changing your profile picture to show support, because, hey, that just makes everything better. To not dare post a fact, because then you are not thinking of the victims.  Even to find this to be a great reason to blame all Christians, especially if they are Republican, for our issues.

I’m sorry, I can’t make my world all rainbows and unicorns again by changing my profile picture, pretending that people would not still be able to find a way to kill if guns didn’t exist, and dressing in black (or should that be rainbow) and do absolutely nothing but mourn for, well, how long is the correct reactionary period anyway?

This is an event that obviously touches a lot of people.  We all react to fear and grief and shock differently.  I write, I talk.  I, as with any other hard issue, don’t react emotionally.  I try to gather details, try to make sense, try to think of what might be the most practical solution.  And I do that while I’m watching my son play baseball and folding the laundry and doing errands and getting the stuff done I need to get done at my job.  Other people may react differently.  And that is OK.  It doesn’t make us enemies.  We are all victims of this attack, and our real enemy is likely laughing at us for making their job easier as we tear our own communities apart.

I pray we can realize we are ONE nation, we are all human beings, we are all in this together, gay, straight, liberal, conservative, black, white, religious (even Muslims!) or atheist.

And I’ll do that while I’m continuing to live my life and being proud to be an American.

That’s why they have wine.

The Small Things Can Mean a Lot

Tomorrow my son graduates from 8^th grade.

I’ve heard people my age talking about how we didn’t graduate from anything until high school, that we didn’t have dances, that we didn’t get gifts for finishing what we then called Jr. High, and that it is crazy that we make a big deal out of it now.  I admit, I have had some of the same thoughts.

Is 8^th grade supposed to be that much of an accomplishment?  Do we need to buy fancy clothes our kids will never wear again to watch them go up on stage somewhere the school shelled out big bucks for to hold the event?  Does the 8^th grade dance take away some of the specialness of high school homecoming and prom?  Are we making our kids expect gifts for every little thing they do?

I’m still very excited that my son is graduating. 

His school doesn’t have dances.  Graduation is in the lunch room, they won’t be wearing caps and gowns, and parents donated money to have a cake and sodas afterward.  My son goes to a school for children with various learning and neurological disabilities.  For us, yes, this is a huge accomplishment to be celebrated, especially because he is not attending there for high school.  We were told he is ready for, and needs to, attend “regular” high school, that they cannot provide him with the more advanced resources that he is ready for.

He went to a normal public school for all of elementary, and his “first” year of 6^th grade.  I can’t even begin to count the number of conferences I’ve had with teachers, principals, and ESE staff over the years.  Not the projects that caused severe meltdowns, the homework cried over and then never turned in, the tests failed, the being taken advantage of by other students, the notes and calls from teachers, the lies, the tantrums.  He was actually even suspended once in the 3^rd grade.

I seriously had days, tearful days, when I couldn’t imagine that he would ever make it this far.

When he came about 2 percentage points from failing the fifth grade, I started pushing.  Pushing teachers, pushing his doctor, aggressively pursuing anything I could find that might help him.  He is bright, funny, sensitive, caring, he is a GREAT kid, but all of that was getting lost somewhere, and that’s not who people saw, sometimes even me.

He started on medication.  It helped a lot at home, but at school he was still having issues, both socially and academically.  He wasn’t developmentally ready for middle school.  He failed sixth grade.

That is when I moved him to his current school.  There, he has had peers at the same developmental level as him.  There he has had individual attention to teach him in the way his brain works.  He has made a lot of friends his own age, and has had some extra time to catch up to what it is to be a young teen.  He has gotten all A’s for THREE years, with the exception of one B+.  His behavior issues have disappeared.  He recently got the student of the month award for the month that celebrated integrity.  He does his homework without prompting and in the last year, even with very little help.  He doesn’t lie to me, argue with me, and in fact he goes out of his way to help me and show he cares.  He is a pleasure to be around the majority of the time (he IS still a teenager!).  I don’t have to hide in the bathroom and cry anymore.

And I am so proud.

While we still always have to deal with some issues, he has worked so hard to overcome his obstacles, and I think he has even exceeded his own expectations.  So, I took the day off to not only attend his graduation, but to take him to do something special afterwards.  And we got him a gift.  

Graduating from 8^th grade IS an accomplishment.

That's why they have wine.  You need something to toast with.

I Don't Want Him in the Bathroom With Me

I don’t want him in the bathroom with me.  I never will. 

It’s not that I think he is a bad guy, that he is going to leer at me, or that he is going to hurt me. I don’t care what he is wearing or looks like.  I just don’t want him there.  It makes me uncomfortable.  I have a difficult enough time using the toilet if I think someone, anyone, can hear me, there is no way I could do it if he were in there with me.

I’ll hold it and wait until he is gone.  I’ll even wait till he is nowhere near the door.

Right now, some people are thinking I’m ignorant.  Or bigoted, prejudice, or hateful.  Some even construe that to mean I’m also obviously a bad parent and even racist.

No one wants to listen to my reasons, nor cares about my comfort.  My comfort is not important to anyone.  Apparently I’m so used to my privilege, that I feel persecuted when someone else is being treated equally to me, and it’s his right to go into any bathroom any time, and I just have to deal with it.

It doesn’t matter that we’ve both been using the bathroom all along without any issues, suddenly our feelings about bathrooms are everyone’s business to judge.

But, I’m sorry, I will never change my mind.  He’s not going to be in there when I’m peeing. He is just going to have to accept the fact that we will never use the bathroom together.

If you’re still with me, still reading, still think I’m an OK person, your reward is knowing that I am talking about my husband.  Those that didn’t because you assumed I was talking about something else and are writing me nasty comments and unfriending me, well, sorry you couldn’t hear me out.

There is so much division in society, so much “us versus them,” so much hate and anger and so little true caring and compassion.  We can’t even listen to each other.

Your neighbor, your coworker, your family member that isn’t just like you – invite them over and talk.  Listen. Care. Learn to understand their viewpoint.

Share a bottle of wine.  That’s why they have it.

A Shout Out To Working Moms

I don't usually give a crap about the "Mommy Wars," probably because I'm too worn out to worry about it, but today I read a blog today where the author, a stay at home mom, was "tired of being judged" because some working mom's said they envied her, and it really rubbed me the wrong way.

First, envy and judgment are not even close to being synonyms.  If someone says they envy you, how in the world is that an offense?  I'd like your life, and that makes me a terrible person?  Makes you a victim of something?  If so, I guess I'm also guilty of victimizing women with flat stomachs, anyone that doesn't suffer from acid reflux, and anyone who has hair that is not so baby fine that the only possible "style" you can have is pulled back in a sparse, pathetic pony tail.

Second, because I can afford a weekend getaway or a $300 baseball bat for my kid, is because I have a job, but that is not what all of my salary pays for.  When I say I NEED a job, it is because I have bills to pay.  Because I choose to use my college degree (the one that the students loans that paid for it were just paid off recently, when I was in my 40's) instead of working at McDonald's to earn that money, therefore make a little more of it, does not mean I'm lying.  You can't look at my new car and decide that I don't need my job.  You have no idea what actual bills I need to pay (like those pesky student loans or expensive medication for my child).  When you write a blog acting like anyone who can do more than you doesn't need a job, guess what, you're actually creating that bubble of judgment that you are claiming to be a victim of.

And lastly, yes, I do understand your job as a stay at home mom.  I understand it very well.  Why? Because I do it too, it just has to fit around that 8 hours a day I have to do my other job.  I still do laundry, buy groceries, cook dinner, clean, help with homework, take care of the pets, sew the stray button back on the school uniform, get up in the middle of the night with a vomiting child, take my kid to doctor's appointments, to sports practices, to tutoring.  I don't magically get granted a housekeeper and nanny because I work.  And you know what? I'm not going to feel guilty about that because you feel judged if I am honest about my life.  This is actually why I envy you, because that extra 8 hours a day might mean my bathroom stays cleaner or my family doesn't have to eat fast food because I have to spend that evening cleaning the turtle tank, and my son might not ever get annoyed with me because he has to wear baseball pants to his game that I pull out of the hamper.

I actually feel very blessed because my company allows me to work from my home office, so I do have the time to spend 2 hours a day in the car driving my son back and forth to school, and I can throw a load of laundry in real quick when I get up to take a bathroom break.  Most working mom's don't have that opportunity.

I have no issue with someone who is a stay at home mom, again, I would love to be one.  But for my fellow working moms, I feel your pain.  That's why they have wine, and sometimes we might need an extra glass.