But He's a Good Kid!

I just finished reading an article relating parental negligence to juvenile crime.  The point of the article:  we’ve lost our sense of accountability.

And the comments on the article pretty much proved the point.

Apparently, juvenile crime happens because “we” “forced” people to have babies.  Let’s think about this….

“We” is used to categorize society as a whole.  I am part of that society, so that implies I am guilty.  So if someone randomly shoots my child for fun, it was all my fault to begin with?  Wow, yep, what a way to have ZERO accountability.

In order to have a baby, you have to have sex.  So if I’m forcing people to have babies, I would have to be forcing them to have sex.  Why am I having trouble recalling these events?  And when do I find the time to do this, anyways?  I guess that explains why it’s sometimes hard to find time to have sex myself! 

If we avoid accountability, we can avoid blame.  If we avoid blame, we avoid guilt.  If we avoid guilt, we don’t feel bad about what we do.  If we don’t feel bad about what we do, we can do whatever we want and not feel responsibility for it.  See the way that works?  It perpetuates itself.  There is no reason for the behavior to stop.  It’s all someone else’s fault and we have no control.

And that’s why “we” have no control.  It’s the fault of Obama or the fault of the Republicans or the fault of religion A, religion B, or religion XYZ.  It’s the fault of a gun or lack of guns.  It’s because there are too many people on welfare or too many wealthy people.  It’s all because it rained when the sun was supposed to be out.

If we want to live somewhere that just doesn’t keep losing even more control, we need to realize a very simple fact.  People are responsible for their own behavior.  That’s it.  Period.

And if you have a child, you are responsible for teaching them that, whether you planned that child or not.  Grownups need to grow up, and people need to stop making excuses for them.

Yes, I know accountability and responsibility can be hard.  I also think it's extremely arrogant to think that others aren't capable of it.  And I know I'm probably not changing anyone's mind. 

That’s why they have wine.

 

Age. It's Just a Number

Age.   

What does it mean to you?

My son turns 12 today, I’m amazed and stunned and scared all at the same time.  He was just born, like YESTERDAY!  Really, it can’t have been 12 years.  It can’t be.  He’s still my baby!

And I am 12 years older.  And heck, I was old then, by first time mothering standards.  Strangely enough, that does not amaze, stun, or scare me at all.  I’m perfectly OK with my age.  I actually kind of embrace it.  Every year older I am, that is one year more of experience gained.  And one year more of insecurities lost.

A lot of women lie about their age.  That is a concept I just don’t get.  I don’t want to relive my 20, not at all.  In my 20’s I was insecure, financially unstable, and really didn’t know who I was.  In my 40’s, I don’t give a crap what you think of me, I don’t have to use a calculator in the grocery store to make sure I’m not spending too much, and I’m exactly who I want to be (well, maybe with a few more wrinkles than I deem necessary, but otherwise…).

When I was younger, I can remember looking at women my age and thinking how “free” they were.  The things that were important in your 20’s just no longer existed at that age, and I wanted to be there.  It’s OK if I don’t look like a supermodel, or don’t want to stay out all night partying, can take care of myself, or if I want to wear comfortable shoes.  And comfort, that’s where it’s at!  Ironically enough, I had a few teenagers compliment me on my Crocs sandals a couple of weeks ago….I just said “thank you” rather than reveal the fact that they liked something so uncool, but deep down inside I couldn’t help but wonder if they realized how nice it is to be older too.

I’m 45 and proud.  Proud enough that I say I’m almost 46, though my son corrects me and says you can’t say that unless you are within less than a month from your birthday.  He just doesn’t get it yet.  I love who I am, at whatever age I’m at. 

Enjoy life where you are at, wherever that is.  Raise your glass.  That’s why they have wine.

Don't Make Me Smack You

When I picked my son up from his summer program today, he was all excited to tell me about how he was telling the other kids how McDonald’s was not “real food” and that the nuggets were made from pink slime and that a REAL burger tasted so much better, and that his counselor was backing him up.

On the way home, we went to check out if the local ice cream place could supply us with an ice cream cake for Aiden’s birthday that did not have artificial coloring.  He is allergic, his lips and tongue swell if he eats it.  While we were out, he informed me that he used to think things like colorful cakes looked so good, but now he just really finds them disgusting, “who wants to eat blue food?”

We eat a very good diet 95% of the time (we do sometimes eat outside our home, but we try to still make good choices).  We get all our produce from an organic delivery company.  I only buy meat and dairy that is hormone and antibiotic free.  We eat cage-free eggs. We obviously eat no artificial colors.  We eat very little processed foods. We try to avoid gluten as it causes Aiden gastrointestinal problems. We don’t eat things whose ingredients we wouldn’t stock in our own kitchen.

Which is why it makes me extremely irritated that the cause of ADHD is diet and the cure is to change it.  It is the single most thing that makes me want to smack people upside the head. 

"Link" and "cause" are not the same word.  And there is word "mimic" that most people choose to ignore.  I completely believe that artificial colors may cause hyperactivity, I believe none of us need them in our food, and I believe it should be banned in our country like it is in many others.  I also know that ADHD is much, much, much (I can’t say “much” too many times) more than hyperactivity, in fact if you have ADHD-Inattentive type, like my son does, you don’t have the hyperactivity component at all.  If a child's problems are all caused by artificial coloring, thank the Lord you have an easy solution by cutting them out, they are just sensitive to it. Sensitivity to artificial colors can mimic ADHD.  Mimic.  Again something I cannot say too many times. If your child shows symptoms, cut them out to see if it helps.  If it does, that is wonderful. However, be aware that taking them away is NOT the cure for ADHD, and if your child has it, it may not make a difference.  It is a neurological disorder.  No child is perfect, and some have harder things to overcome.  My pre-teen son can understand that, he’ll discuss it with anyone and offer comfort and advice to other kids that have it.  Why is it so difficult for adults to get?

And that’s why they have wine.  And as a bonus, it's artificial color free.

The Politics of Medicine

My son attended baseball camp this week at the University of South Florida.  Throughout the week, there were parents who stayed and watched from the stands for the day.  My son asked if I could please come and watch too, so I took this morning off of work to do so, especially because they were doing an award ceremony at the end of the camp day.  I am glad I did, because when they awarded the “Bull of the Week” award (school mascot is a bull) to a child who showed good character, behavior, and a “cannon for a left arm,” my child’s name came at the end of the sentence.

It was an awards ceremony I might have missed because I unexpectedly had to run all over town thanks to the adults who don’t show good character and behavior, and the regulations that have been put in place because of them.

In his eagerness, Aiden has been the first child to arrive at camp all week, and today was no exception.  Since he arrived 30 minutes before activities even started, I told him I was going to run up to the pharmacy and get his prescription filled, and I’d be back as things were starting.  Big mistake.

Aiden’s prescription is for an ADHD medication, a medication which not only improves his focus and decreases his frustration and tendency to get overwhelmed, it has some unexpected effects like handwriting which now can actually be read and shoes which, at a week before his 12^th birthday, he can now tie.  He’s been on it for just a few weeks over a year, a year in which he has been a visibly happier, less anxious child.  After already using behavior modification techniques and diet changes which have helped quite a bit, the addition of the medication has made a tremendous difference in the quality of his life.

It is classified by our government as a Schedule II Controlled Substance.  As such, it is subject to certain restrictions.  Prescriptions cannot be called or faxed in, they must be presented in hard copy form, and there can be no refills allowed.  This means I have to drive to the doctor’s office on the other side of the city (pediatric neurologists are certainly not a dime a dozen!) every month to pick one up, and drop it off and wait for it at the pharmacy instead of being able to just request a refill and have it waiting when I arrive.  Before this morning, I thought that was the biggest nuisance I had to endure.

I had actually gone to the pharmacy to fill the prescription earlier this week, and they were out of his medication. The pharmacy tech told me they got orders in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so could I come back later in the week.  No big deal, he had enough to last until this morning, as long as I could get it filled before he left for his dad’s for the weekend, we were good.  When I went in this morning, they still didn’t have it, and there was whispering going on between the tech and the pharmacist and careful scrutinization of the prescription.  I was again told orders come in on Tuesdays and Thursdays and to check back. 

At this point, I was a bit frustrated.  I needed the medication today.  I asked if they could please call their store a couple of miles away and see if they had it in stock.

“Well…..”

“Yes?”

“We can call, but they won’t tell us.”

“Excuse me, you have done this for me before?  Maybe not this particular medication, but the last time my son was sick you did it for me.”

“It’s a controlled substance, no pharmacy will tell you unless you present the prescription.  And the prescription has to be a good prescription.  It has to have everything on it that it is supposed to.”

“Is there a problem with the prescription?  This is the same prescription from the same doctor that I bring in to this same pharmacy every month at this same time.”

“No, you have a good prescription.”

“Okay….so, can I get 30 of the 10 mg and a 30 of the 5 mg if you don’t have the 15 mg?”

“Only if you have prescriptions particularly for those.”

“So, can you tell me if you have those in stock before I drive across town and ask the doctor to re-write the prescriptions.”

“No, we have to see the actual prescription before we can tell you.”

I left the bottle of sunscreen I was going to purchase on the counter, and completely forgot to pick up my prescription for my hormone pills that was waiting there, and left to drive on to the next pharmacy. 

It was only 9 am, but I did almost detour into the wine aisle for some reinforcements.

An hour later, I had repeated the same scenario at 3 other pharmacies, and still had not filled the prescription.

One last try. 

“Can you tell me if you have this in stock?  And if you don’t, is it worth my time to continue going from pharmacy to pharmacy to ask?  You are the 5^th pharmacy I’ve tried this morning.  I took the time off of work to go watch my son play baseball and I’m missing it because no one can fill his prescription and no one can tell me when they can and no one can tell me who has it.  He took the last one this morning.”

I don’t know if it was my plea, or the tears in my eyes that did it, but I finally found a pharmacist who would give me some real answers. 

Florida seems to attract a lot of the bad element.  I heard a preacher once say that maybe it was because it was “so hot, the demons get it confused with hell.”  Whatever the reason, there are a lot of problems with painkiller abuse….and doctors and pharmacies that unethically and illegally make them easy to get. So, besides the federal regulations, the state also has their own, and the result is that pharmacies get only a certain “allotment” of Schedule II medications, and once they’ve reached that allotment, well, their customers are just out of luck.  They can be red-flagged as dispensing what the DEA considers more than average, and no one has to supply them (based only on numbers, no consideration whatsoever to how many customers may have prescriptions for a certain thing that use that pharmacy.)  A CUSTOMER can be red-flagged for filling too many prescriptions, even if it is a valid medical reason with valid prescriptions, just because the pharmacist feels they should be red-flagged, something visible to all pharmacies who can then legally refuse to fill a prescription.  And, the best information I received, the major pharmaceutical supplier in this area was flagged by the DEA a little over a year ago, and any pharmacy which uses them as their supplier can no longer get Schedule II medications.  At all.  Once they are out of stock, they are out of stock. 

A lot of these regulations sound great when you are thinking about cracking down on the people doing illegal things.  They really suck when a child can’t get the medication that improves his life.

That 5^th pharmacy, they cancelled their contract with that supplier and begin with a new one on Monday.  They have sent in a special order for my child’s medication, it should be here by Wednesday, per a new regulation that allows a pharmacy to fill for a particular customer even if they have exceeded their quota, something none of the other pharmacies offered to do.  I have 5 capsules of his old dose, at least he can take that until that time.  And I have a new pharmacy, one that doesn’t just assume I am (or my child is!) a criminal just because I have a prescription for a controlled substance in my hand, but rather chooses to treat me with integrity and my child with compassion.

My ID had to be scanned and sent to the DEA to do this, and perhaps I am already red-flagged because I’ve filled a controlled substance for the 13^th time, but my child will have his medication, and I didn’t miss him getting his award at camp.

And that’s why they have wine!  Even if I’ve had to wait hours to have a glass.

 

Diary of a Working Mom

Reading various blogs and Facebook pages and articles….and wondering if women are trying to put themselves back “barefoot and pregnant.”

I know what I am reading is not everyone’s opinions, and maybe I’m just not reading the right sites, but what I see scares me a bit.

Women who know they are in crappy relationships, but won’t leave because then they won’t have an income.  Women who have been led to believe that if they leave their child for a few hours each day, that child will grow up to be some kind of criminal who spends their lives in prison.  Women who put up with things that NO ONE should put up with.

How did we get back here?  Or did we just never leave and I was just lucky enough to have a mom who knew better?

I didn’t grow up with a privileged life.  The big “dinner out” was McDonald’s, where me and my 2 siblings had our choice of only a hamburger or cheeseburger, and we split a small fry.  However, I was taught to not want to be stuck there.  Thank goodness.

It slightly disturbs me to read questions from a young woman asking if she should quit her job and go on welfare because her ex who is not even taking care of the children thinks she should.  It greatly disturbs me to see other women encouraging her to do just that because otherwise she is not a good mother.  REALLY???

I am a working mom.  I was a working mom when I had my child, a working mom when I was still married to his father, a working single mom when we got divorced, and a working mom whose bills could still be paid if she didn’t work now that I’m remarried.  AND I’M A DAMN GOOD MOTHER. 

I can take care of myself and my child, no matter what, and I’m proud of that.  And so is my son.  He will never be the victim of having to live in an environment that is not good for him because I have the ability to remove him from one.  He will never view women as someone that should be belittled. He will never view a female as something other than an equal.  And he knows his mother loves him more than life itself.  And, well, I can’t say that he’s unhappy with some of the privileges that come with a mom with an income.

Working does not make you a bad mother.  If you choose not to, that is fine too, but just make sure you are doing it for the right reasons - because you don't need the income and you don't want to, because you have a special needs child that requires a stay at home parent, heck even because you just think working is evil - but not because people tell you that you can’t be a bad mother and still work.

I like my job.  I like the challenge it presents me.  I like the sense of accomplishment when I figure out an issue.  I like talking to other adults. 

And that’s why they have wine.  Thank goodness for the job that can pay for it.

A Spanking Is Just a Spanking

There are some people who say that the cause of violence in our society comes from spanking our children.  There are others that say it’s because we don’t. 

There are three incidents in my life that I think of each and every time the occasion arises where I need to discipline my child:  three things that have stuck in my mind over many, many years, and taught me great lessons in being a parent.  And none of them involve spanking.

The first is a time I got mad at my father for something and said I was going to run away.  The second is a time I was in my grandmother’s kitchen when I was 8 or 9 and I repeated a rude line from a movie.  The last is something my pastor talked about in his sermon at church, long before I even had a child.

When I said I was going to run away, my dad reacted by not saying a word.  Rather, he went and got me a suitcase.  I changed my mind.  Understand how your child thinks.

My grandmother looked at me with a hurt look, and, in her normal conversational voice, said “That is a really mean thing to say to someone.”   Teach your child WHY a behavior is wrong.

My pastor said that the key to discipline was to “know your child’s currency.”  In other words, know what consequence best fits that particular child.  Realize that not all children respond to the same discipline methods, even children in the same family.

Yes, I’ve spanked my child when I felt the situation called for it.  I’ve also used time-out, taking things away, grounding, and, more often than not, nothing more than a simple act like my dad or grandmother used.  In turn, I have a wonderful, kind, considerate, affectionate child with whom I have a great relationship.

Raising, teaching, and disciplining a child isn’t as simple as spanking or not spanking.  It takes a lot of work, a lot of understanding, and a lot of realizing that what you thought you knew just isn’t working.

And when it gets overwhelming, just lock yourself in the bathroom with a bottle of wine.  That’s why they have it.

(Hmmm, wonder if a wine rack would fit in here.....)

Disgusted

I am disgusted.  Thoroughly disgusted.

Posts on Facebook regarding the Trayvon Martin trial scare me.

Yeah, I get that there had to be “beyond a reasonable doubt” evidence to convict someone.  So do most Americans.  We’re not stupid.  That doesn’t mean we should be jumping for joy at the verdict.  Some of us are actually smart enough to think outside the box.  Some of those people are black, and it doesn’t mean they are pulling the race card because of it.  Although, I do have to admit, the comments I’ve read tonight have made me much more realize the need for that card.

A grown man gave into his need to be macho, and against police advice, confronted a teenager.  A teenager that was NOT committing a crime.  A teenager that was armed with a bag of Skittles, “just the plain ones” as my 11 year old pointed out.  A fact that most people have chosen to purposely ignore.

And, well, that’s it.  I don’t see how people can overlook that.  Of course I guess I’m ignorant, because I also don’t see how people can think their feelings on gun control are more important than someone’s life.  Or how that it’s OK that they smoke pot, but not that the victim did.  Or, well, I have a lot of trouble seeing how some people think they are perfect and therefore can judge whose lives are worth living.

I CAN see how upset the Martin family must be.  And I pray for their peace.  I truly hope they can somehow get some closure.

And that’s why they have wine.