Illness has once again struck our home, and this time with a vengeance. Fortunately not on me. Unfortunately, I have never had the patience to deal with the whining and the complaining that comes with being sick. People always think I am just being funny when I tell these stories but, hand to God, they are true.
I was fortunate enough to have a pediatrician that didn't push antibiotics on my kids when they were young. She preferred to try to cure the common sniffle with home remedies before resorting to medication. I don't know if that had anything to do with her being Indian or just the fact that she had common sense, but there you go. And in the years since, we have rarely been struck down by flu bugs and tummy viruses.
When the kids start to get all stopped up, we bring out the saline nose spray. Just one puff in each nostril, a good blow, and you are good to go. When that doesn't work, we'll bring out the humidifier. It will save your life! Trust me. Night time is when you will lose the most sleep to coughs and colds. And it will always happen at three o'clock in the morning. I was in a deep slumber and all of sudden, "Cough, cough, cough". I stirred a little in my sleep and realized that my kid was coughing in the other room. My husband woke a little bit and stated the obvious, "She's coughing," and then he resumed snoring.
I tried to lay back down and go to sleep, but between my poor baby coughing and feeling miserable in the next room and my husband snoring in my ear, it was impossible. Finally, he rolled over and his hand slapped me in face and I gave up. There would be no more sleep for me tonight. So I did what any good mom would do. I sat up and yelled, "Go get a drink of water, for crying out loud!"
A soft "OK" answered, followed by footsteps to the kitchen. I rolled my husband over, who amazingly had slept through it all, and settled back down for a long sleep. Yeah, right. The coughing continued sporadically throughout the night. Even though she was practically sitting up. Even though the humidifier was on full blast, leaving a thin sheen of dew on every surface of her room. Even though she had blown her nose dry.
By now, it was 5 o'clock in the morning. I can't give her another dose of cough medicine because then I won't be able to give her another dose before school starts in the morning. And, yeah, I send my kids to school unless they are throwing up or have a fever. I am that mom. It was your scuzzy kids that got my kid sick in the first place, so deal with it. The idea of having to give her more medicine gave me flashbacks of the night before when I had to finally give in and start her on the dreaded antibiotics. I don't remember amoxicillin tasting that bad, but apparently my daughter thinks it is the next best thing to dog crap.
To get her take her medicine is a struggle, to put it nicely. I start off nice and slow.
"Here is your medicine and here is your drink to wash it down with. Have you taken it yet? Take your medicine. Drink it. Drink it now! Just swallow it and wash it down. The longer you sit here the angrier I am going to get. Just drink it. Good, now swallow it. The longer you keep it in your mouth the worse it going to taste. Swallow it! There's no taste buds in your throat, just swallow it! So help me, if you spit it out... If you don't swallow it I'm going to sit on you and plug your nose! One... Two... Now was that so hard?"
I shivered in the dark as the flashback passes. I'm going to have to do this twice a day for nine more days. Yea! I wish I could find patient zero. The things I would do to him... At least we don't get sick that often. You'd think that I would be better at this than I am. Oh, well. At least it isn't my husband that is sick. That's another story entirely.
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Friday, January 17, 2014
Dealing With Grief
I know most of the time I keep things light-hearted and fun, but the sad truth is that tragedy does strike and we, as parents, have to help our kids deal with the challenges of the grieving process. My children were blessed with five great grandparents when they started their young lives. Now, as of January 8, my wonderful grandmother is the only one left.
About four years ago, my husband's grandmother, affectionately known as "Mom", passed away. She lived with us for a few years until the physical demands of caring for someone in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's Disease were too much for my mother in law (who still lives with us) to handle on her own. We had no choice but to place her in a nursing home where she could receive round the clock care. My children, who were 8, 6 and 4 at the time, wanted to honor Mom in a special way. We had a small memorial here at the house because Mom was to be cremated and buried in her home town in Michigan. Afterwards, the kids, my husband, and I walked to the field near our home and released a balloon into the air. Attached to the balloon were handwritten notes that each of my children had written for Mom. That's the part they remember most about honoring Mom. It helped the kids tremendously to think that their letters would somehow reach her in Heaven.
In December, 2011 we lost my Grandaddy to a bout of pneumonia. He died within days of his 90th birthday. My dad's side of the family dealt with this loss with love and laughter, even if some of the laughter was by accident. My dad is one of six children. In a private moment, each of the children placed something special in their father's casket. A family photo to keep him company, his favorite nuts for a snack, money in his pocket in case of emergency, and a golf ball to enjoy the greens once more. Well, oddly enough golf balls enjoy rolling and bouncing around in the empty spaces of a casket. It turns out, if you don't warn the hearse drivers that something will be moving around inside of a casket, it kind of freaks them out. My family loves each other very much and I think that we are pretty close. None the less, it was a great bonding experience in that only immediate family members knew what that strange sound was coming from Grandaddy's casket while he was being transferred from the hearse to his final resting place. Snickers abounded and grief was abated, if only for a moment.
This brings me to our family's most recent encounter with grief. My mother's parents both passed just recently. My Paw Paw just after Christmas and my Grandma just after the new year. They had been married an astonishing 67 years. I can't remember them ever being apart so I suppose it is only appropriate that they are together again, this time for eternity. When Paw Paw died, I was comforted by the fact that I still had my Grandma and that was like still having a little piece of my Paw Paw left. The last time I saw my Grandma, I told her all about my Paw Paw's funeral service because she had been too weak to attend. Her heart was visibly broken and it tore me up to see her like that. She clutched both his picture and my hand and she sobbed. My Grandma had been my best friend my whole life. When I told my children of her passing, the first thing my youngest said was, "But she was the one that taught me to read." My Grandma was a natural teacher. She, like Mom, Grandad and Paw Paw, were strong inspirations and influences in my life and in my children's lives. I can't count my blessings enough that we have had these angels in our lives, but dealing with these losses has shaken my world.
I liken the sadness I have felt to the night. I wake up in the morning to a new day and everything seems like it will okay, but there's a darkness looming on the horizon. Night is coming. As the day goes on, it grows brighter and brighter. I feel like I can work and that I have the motivation and the inspiration to get up write. And then the peak of the day has come and the sun has passed over its highest point. Yet here I am, staring at a computer screen, having not written a word. Thoughts start to weigh heavy on my mind. They grow darker and heavier just as the day grows darker and colder. Before I know it, dusk is settling in, replacing the day with the night. Filling my exhausted head with sadness.
My kids handled these recent deaths probably better than I did. They were remarkably mature and strong in the face of such tragedy. We have crawled up together on my bed and on the couch and cried, talked, laughed and shared stories. There have been meltdowns and quarrels, but they have been comforted by the memories they have and jokes that they can share; the kind that only family will ever understand. Most of all, they have me and they have their dad and they have each other.
As much as it felt like it would, the world didn't stop. We somehow managed to go on without you in our lives. It hurt so much. The kind of hurt I thought would never go away. I will always love my grandparents and am grateful for all they did for me and for my precious family. In time we will heal, and we will heal through the laughter and the love that we provide each other. So it's not goodbye, but goodnight. Rest well, because we will have a lot to talk about when I see you again.
About four years ago, my husband's grandmother, affectionately known as "Mom", passed away. She lived with us for a few years until the physical demands of caring for someone in the advanced stages of Alzheimer's Disease were too much for my mother in law (who still lives with us) to handle on her own. We had no choice but to place her in a nursing home where she could receive round the clock care. My children, who were 8, 6 and 4 at the time, wanted to honor Mom in a special way. We had a small memorial here at the house because Mom was to be cremated and buried in her home town in Michigan. Afterwards, the kids, my husband, and I walked to the field near our home and released a balloon into the air. Attached to the balloon were handwritten notes that each of my children had written for Mom. That's the part they remember most about honoring Mom. It helped the kids tremendously to think that their letters would somehow reach her in Heaven.
In December, 2011 we lost my Grandaddy to a bout of pneumonia. He died within days of his 90th birthday. My dad's side of the family dealt with this loss with love and laughter, even if some of the laughter was by accident. My dad is one of six children. In a private moment, each of the children placed something special in their father's casket. A family photo to keep him company, his favorite nuts for a snack, money in his pocket in case of emergency, and a golf ball to enjoy the greens once more. Well, oddly enough golf balls enjoy rolling and bouncing around in the empty spaces of a casket. It turns out, if you don't warn the hearse drivers that something will be moving around inside of a casket, it kind of freaks them out. My family loves each other very much and I think that we are pretty close. None the less, it was a great bonding experience in that only immediate family members knew what that strange sound was coming from Grandaddy's casket while he was being transferred from the hearse to his final resting place. Snickers abounded and grief was abated, if only for a moment.
This brings me to our family's most recent encounter with grief. My mother's parents both passed just recently. My Paw Paw just after Christmas and my Grandma just after the new year. They had been married an astonishing 67 years. I can't remember them ever being apart so I suppose it is only appropriate that they are together again, this time for eternity. When Paw Paw died, I was comforted by the fact that I still had my Grandma and that was like still having a little piece of my Paw Paw left. The last time I saw my Grandma, I told her all about my Paw Paw's funeral service because she had been too weak to attend. Her heart was visibly broken and it tore me up to see her like that. She clutched both his picture and my hand and she sobbed. My Grandma had been my best friend my whole life. When I told my children of her passing, the first thing my youngest said was, "But she was the one that taught me to read." My Grandma was a natural teacher. She, like Mom, Grandad and Paw Paw, were strong inspirations and influences in my life and in my children's lives. I can't count my blessings enough that we have had these angels in our lives, but dealing with these losses has shaken my world.
I liken the sadness I have felt to the night. I wake up in the morning to a new day and everything seems like it will okay, but there's a darkness looming on the horizon. Night is coming. As the day goes on, it grows brighter and brighter. I feel like I can work and that I have the motivation and the inspiration to get up write. And then the peak of the day has come and the sun has passed over its highest point. Yet here I am, staring at a computer screen, having not written a word. Thoughts start to weigh heavy on my mind. They grow darker and heavier just as the day grows darker and colder. Before I know it, dusk is settling in, replacing the day with the night. Filling my exhausted head with sadness.
My kids handled these recent deaths probably better than I did. They were remarkably mature and strong in the face of such tragedy. We have crawled up together on my bed and on the couch and cried, talked, laughed and shared stories. There have been meltdowns and quarrels, but they have been comforted by the memories they have and jokes that they can share; the kind that only family will ever understand. Most of all, they have me and they have their dad and they have each other.
As much as it felt like it would, the world didn't stop. We somehow managed to go on without you in our lives. It hurt so much. The kind of hurt I thought would never go away. I will always love my grandparents and am grateful for all they did for me and for my precious family. In time we will heal, and we will heal through the laughter and the love that we provide each other. So it's not goodbye, but goodnight. Rest well, because we will have a lot to talk about when I see you again.
Friday, December 6, 2013
A Charlie Brown Christmas
I have always been thankful that my
kids have never been terribly greedy when it comes to making their Christmas
Wish Lists. The internet has been filled with pictures of letters to Santa
Claus with nothing but children asking for more, more and more. Maybe those
parents laugh and think, "Oh, how cute that little Billy wants the entire
Toys 'R' Us catalog. I didn't know he even liked Barbies." But if those
were my kids, I would be shaking my head in shame.
This last year has been a little harder
than most. I had to quit my job because of my health problems, we had to pay our insurance out of pocket
for six months, and now are playing catch up with our credit cards. So
Christmas is going to be lean. And we are honest with the kids about it. We
feel that's the only way to be.
As for Santa Claus... Our kids are 12, 10
and 8. Though he has never asked, I'm pretty sure that my oldest, my son, no
longer believes in Santa. He said something to me one time about not believing
and I told him that Santa would be real so long as he believed. My daughters
are constantly trying to get us to admit that my husband and I are really the
ones that put all the gifts out on Christmas Eve. Their biggest
"clue" is the difference between our Santa and and their cousin's
Santa. Their cousin's Santa apparently has time to visit throughout the month
of December, putting little goodies in her stocking and filling it up
throughout the month. Our Santa does it all in one fell swoop. How can that be
possible? I just ask them, "Do you want presents from Santa?" They
say yes. "Then shut up and believe in him."
So the Santa Claus gifts will still be
here. And they will, understandably, be better than the clothes that mommy and
daddy will buying them. He just needs to remember to do a better job of hiding
the empty candy bags. He also opens the packages in the house before setting
everything up just right. The Tooth Fairy has also been known to forget to pick
up teeth for sometimes three days at a stretch. She was very busy. She also
accidentally left them in my dresser. Not to mention the mess the Easter Bunny
leaves behind. He also forgets to throw his trash away where the kids can't
find it every once in a while. Ugh! Those guys! I'm trying to keep the magic
alive here just a little longer!
It seems that no matter how much, or how
little, we manage to get them for Christmas, as long as the big guy shows up
they seem to be happy. After all, the real reason for the season rests inside
us all. Tiny Tim said it best in my favorite tale of all time, Charles
Dickens' A Christmas Carol; "God bless us, every
one."
Thursday, November 14, 2013
Extreme Coupon Fail
Well, I tried. We looked at the sales ads before we left the house. We went through all of the coupons I clipped from the Sunday paper. I looked at the coupons I had digitally loaded on my Kroger's card. (I didn't have time to troll the internet this time.) We made a menu for the week, made a list and off we went.
In order to be more successful at this extreme coupon thing, I know I need to get more organized and plan ahead better than I did this week. I already knew that I couldn't do it in one day, but that was all I had this week. But better planning next time will hopefully mean better savings. I just stuffed all my coupons in my back pocket and had to shuffle through them every few aisles to double check for savings. If any of you are 'couponers', I know I'm totally making you cringe right now.
So this week we tried to make the most of what we had in the freezer so that we didn't have to buy more meat this week. But I did have to buy more fresh fruits and veggies, which are always a big expense. The problem that I ran into while shopping, which is the problem I run into all the time, is that the store brands are still cheaper than the name brands even with the coupon. I realize there is suppose to be some sort of pattern to the sales in which my $1 off coupon will make such and such name brand free to me on the third Wednesday of the fifth month of every year or some such nonsense, but I'll be damned if I'm going to wait around for it to happen before I buy the knock off version when I'm hungry now. I guess you can see that patience is not a skill I possess. I'm going to have to find some if I'm going to keep this up.
By the end of our shopping trip, we used two coupons. Two. For a grand savings of probably $2. One for light bulbs and one for a long handled lighter; both items that we need. I think I need more practice...
In order to be more successful at this extreme coupon thing, I know I need to get more organized and plan ahead better than I did this week. I already knew that I couldn't do it in one day, but that was all I had this week. But better planning next time will hopefully mean better savings. I just stuffed all my coupons in my back pocket and had to shuffle through them every few aisles to double check for savings. If any of you are 'couponers', I know I'm totally making you cringe right now.
So this week we tried to make the most of what we had in the freezer so that we didn't have to buy more meat this week. But I did have to buy more fresh fruits and veggies, which are always a big expense. The problem that I ran into while shopping, which is the problem I run into all the time, is that the store brands are still cheaper than the name brands even with the coupon. I realize there is suppose to be some sort of pattern to the sales in which my $1 off coupon will make such and such name brand free to me on the third Wednesday of the fifth month of every year or some such nonsense, but I'll be damned if I'm going to wait around for it to happen before I buy the knock off version when I'm hungry now. I guess you can see that patience is not a skill I possess. I'm going to have to find some if I'm going to keep this up.
By the end of our shopping trip, we used two coupons. Two. For a grand savings of probably $2. One for light bulbs and one for a long handled lighter; both items that we need. I think I need more practice...
Friday, November 8, 2013
Coupon Beginning
I think I'm late to the game, but I just cannot figure out this extreme couponing thing. It just feels so overwhelming when I look at the work involved in making this work for my family. Now not only to have to clip coupons from my Sunday paper, I have to print them out from web sites and cut those out. I have to download digital coupons. I have to learn to coupon policies for my local stores. And my brain just doesn't work this way.
I am the occasional couponer right now. I clip coupons for the things that I use, but generally the store brand is cheaper, even with the coupon, so I end up with my little sandwich baggie full of unused coupons that eventually expire and get thrown away. I use Kroger's digital coupons, too. But I know that you can't combine the digital ones with the paper ones. So now I have to print out the list that tells me what digital coupons I have loaded onto my Kroger card. Not so bad yet...
Today I did some research and found a ton of online coupon sites. Some you have to pay for and others are free. So far, I am having trouble justifying buying coupons, but I suppose if you buy a newspaper, you are in essence, buying coupons. I'll keep you updated as to the ones I find to be the most helpful.
Now, I need to learn the coupon policies of my local stores. This means that I have come to the conclusion that shopping is now going to take me at least twice as long. That kind of sucks, but I guess if I can make this work then it may be worth it in the end. Not every store will have the same policies. For example, I know that our local Kroger's will no longer double or triple coupons, but another store nearby might. Additionally, one store might offer a better deal on something than another store does. So it looks like multiple trips for me.
I have a lot to learn... And my brain is on overload today. One thing that my husband and I agreed on is, "NO HOARDING!" Not only do I not have enough space in my house, but I am already trying to get rid of the clutter I have. I certainly don't need the clutter of pasta sauce and razors filling up my extra space. We decided that anything that we can't use (but can get for free) we will donate. Right away. We could all use a little extra change in our karma piggy banks, too.
I am the occasional couponer right now. I clip coupons for the things that I use, but generally the store brand is cheaper, even with the coupon, so I end up with my little sandwich baggie full of unused coupons that eventually expire and get thrown away. I use Kroger's digital coupons, too. But I know that you can't combine the digital ones with the paper ones. So now I have to print out the list that tells me what digital coupons I have loaded onto my Kroger card. Not so bad yet...
Today I did some research and found a ton of online coupon sites. Some you have to pay for and others are free. So far, I am having trouble justifying buying coupons, but I suppose if you buy a newspaper, you are in essence, buying coupons. I'll keep you updated as to the ones I find to be the most helpful.
Now, I need to learn the coupon policies of my local stores. This means that I have come to the conclusion that shopping is now going to take me at least twice as long. That kind of sucks, but I guess if I can make this work then it may be worth it in the end. Not every store will have the same policies. For example, I know that our local Kroger's will no longer double or triple coupons, but another store nearby might. Additionally, one store might offer a better deal on something than another store does. So it looks like multiple trips for me.
I have a lot to learn... And my brain is on overload today. One thing that my husband and I agreed on is, "NO HOARDING!" Not only do I not have enough space in my house, but I am already trying to get rid of the clutter I have. I certainly don't need the clutter of pasta sauce and razors filling up my extra space. We decided that anything that we can't use (but can get for free) we will donate. Right away. We could all use a little extra change in our karma piggy banks, too.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
My Snowflakes
Each of my children have their own distinct personalities. They're like snowflakes. No two are alike. Sure, they all have similarities. They all have brown hair and brown eyes. But Timothy is musical mathematical. Rebecca is artistic and poetic. Diana is my athletic writer. Along with their strengths, come their weaknesses. And as much as I love their strengths and encourage them to pursue their interests, I have to help them work through their weaknesses so that they don't hinder them when they leave the safety of my nest.
Timothy is very logical and ordered. Science, math and music make a lot of sense to him. Writing, not so much. In writing there are too many rules that can be fudged. I can write this sentence without any commas and it would still make sense. But, in this sentence, I need multiple commas in order for it to make sense because, should I leave them out, it would be incorrect. He made good enough grades last year to get into the highest level classes available. He is doing really well in all of them except language arts. The concepts that he is not grasping deal with the rules of the English language. I can't say that I blame him. You try explaining to a child how to form compound and complex sentences without Googling it. I dare you. But if you ask him to solve a math problem in his head, he can do it. And he made the top band right out of Beginner's Band. He loves playing his trumpet and recently expressed an interest in learning to play multiple instruments.
Rebecca's kryptonite is math. Always has been. I swear she has arithmaphobia. As soon as you ask her a math question, no matter how simple, she balks. And I am out of solutions as to how to help her. I have screamed, yelled, drawn diagrams, played charades, done it for her, bought workbooks, sat her down with computer programs, sent her to tutoring, taught her different ways, cried, prayed, gotten extra work from her teachers, ignored the problem, and gotten a drink. And, no, she does not have ADD, ADHD, dyslexia or anything else. She's just plain bad at math. That magic moment of comprehension just hasn't happened for her yet. Her teachers have all been really great about letting her sit up front so she can whisper the problems out loud (which seems to work for her) and give her some extra time on her tests. But if you ask her to write a story or a poem, she's your girl. And she is developing a really good singing voice. She gets that from Daddy.
Diana is my little spitfire. I'm not surprised that she wanted to get involved in student council. If anyone can convince anyone to do anything, it's Diana. She loves to write in her spare time. She makes up stories and keeps them in a little notebook. She is my outdoors girl. I think she would live in the backyard if I would let her. What I need her to do is work on her reading. As good a writer as she is, you'd think she'd be a really good reader. It's not the reading we have to work on, per se, it's the comprehension. She loves to read. In fact, she reads on a level a few grades higher than she is, but her comprehension is lagging. I am pretty familiar with the books that she is reading so I am able to make up some good questions to test her comprehension. If I lead her the right way, she can get to the right answer but she should be able to answer my questions without me having to lead her. I think she understands what she is reading, but she either isn't paying attention to the details or to she is too busy making up her own stories that are inspired by what she is reading to care.
My three little snowflakes. I love that they all have their own unique interests, even if it means more work for me in the run long. I think it's fascinating watching them grow and turn into these real little people. They're no longer these helpless little babies. They are tiny little people with their own personalities and now it's up to me to help guide them into adulthood. This is so exciting. I hope I don't screw it up.
Timothy is very logical and ordered. Science, math and music make a lot of sense to him. Writing, not so much. In writing there are too many rules that can be fudged. I can write this sentence without any commas and it would still make sense. But, in this sentence, I need multiple commas in order for it to make sense because, should I leave them out, it would be incorrect. He made good enough grades last year to get into the highest level classes available. He is doing really well in all of them except language arts. The concepts that he is not grasping deal with the rules of the English language. I can't say that I blame him. You try explaining to a child how to form compound and complex sentences without Googling it. I dare you. But if you ask him to solve a math problem in his head, he can do it. And he made the top band right out of Beginner's Band. He loves playing his trumpet and recently expressed an interest in learning to play multiple instruments.
Rebecca's kryptonite is math. Always has been. I swear she has arithmaphobia. As soon as you ask her a math question, no matter how simple, she balks. And I am out of solutions as to how to help her. I have screamed, yelled, drawn diagrams, played charades, done it for her, bought workbooks, sat her down with computer programs, sent her to tutoring, taught her different ways, cried, prayed, gotten extra work from her teachers, ignored the problem, and gotten a drink. And, no, she does not have ADD, ADHD, dyslexia or anything else. She's just plain bad at math. That magic moment of comprehension just hasn't happened for her yet. Her teachers have all been really great about letting her sit up front so she can whisper the problems out loud (which seems to work for her) and give her some extra time on her tests. But if you ask her to write a story or a poem, she's your girl. And she is developing a really good singing voice. She gets that from Daddy.
Diana is my little spitfire. I'm not surprised that she wanted to get involved in student council. If anyone can convince anyone to do anything, it's Diana. She loves to write in her spare time. She makes up stories and keeps them in a little notebook. She is my outdoors girl. I think she would live in the backyard if I would let her. What I need her to do is work on her reading. As good a writer as she is, you'd think she'd be a really good reader. It's not the reading we have to work on, per se, it's the comprehension. She loves to read. In fact, she reads on a level a few grades higher than she is, but her comprehension is lagging. I am pretty familiar with the books that she is reading so I am able to make up some good questions to test her comprehension. If I lead her the right way, she can get to the right answer but she should be able to answer my questions without me having to lead her. I think she understands what she is reading, but she either isn't paying attention to the details or to she is too busy making up her own stories that are inspired by what she is reading to care.
My three little snowflakes. I love that they all have their own unique interests, even if it means more work for me in the run long. I think it's fascinating watching them grow and turn into these real little people. They're no longer these helpless little babies. They are tiny little people with their own personalities and now it's up to me to help guide them into adulthood. This is so exciting. I hope I don't screw it up.
Friday, September 20, 2013
School Ties
I have a confession to make. I haven't been the best example for my children. I quit high school at the end of my junior year and home schooled my senior year. I never felt that I fit in anywhere in school. But I also never made the effort to fit in. I had a handful of friends in all of the high school cliques but I never made any long lasting friendships the way my husband did. That is something I have always been jealous of.
I could have breakfast with the Misfits, lunch with the Thespians, hang out after school with the Musicians and the Stoners, get on the bus with the Nerds and then spend my weekends with kids that didn't even go to my school. It only took one bad relationship to teach me to never date boys that went to the same school I did. The reasons I left school are much too complicated to explain in black and white, and I don't regret the decision, but it has led to some lonely times as an adult.
I don't have any high school reunions to look forward to. In fact, I look forward to my husband's high school reunions. What can I say? I live vicariously through his time tested friendships. I did recently get invited to my Thespian Troupe's reunion. We were the first Thespian Troupe in our school because we went to a new high school. We set a lot of the ground rules. I guess it was kind of a big deal now that I think of it. But I was actually surprised to get the invite.
It was the only society I ever joined, until college anyway. At that time, theater was all I ever wanted to do. It was all any of us ever wanted to do. It was the common bond that joined us all together. Actors, costumers, stage managers, directors, lighting technicians, sound artists... But I didn't participate very much on my high school stage. When I was younger, before high school, I had gotten involved in local community theaters and had formed deep bonds with the people there. That was where my friends were. That was where my heart was. That was where my passion was. That was where I wanted to be. And that was where I stayed for nearly 20 years. I'd still be there today had it not been for my stroke in 2010.
Now I am invited to this reunion. I feel a little hypocritical going because I didn't contribute anything to my Thespian Troupe. I thought about not going at all. I don't have anything to show to anyone. I don't feel that I made anything of myself. I didn't form any long lasting friendships with anyone. But I want to see these people. They still mean something to me. The best part about theater is that they welcome everyone and for the most part, they welcomed me.
Who cares if we didn't all become famous? Who cares if we all gained some weight (well I did)? I'm sure none of us are where we thought we would be when we left high school. It'll be fun to see what happened to everyone. Where we all went and how we all got there. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some ideas for a new script. After all these years, I still can't stay away from theater, even though now I'm a struggling (very struggling) playwright.
Maybe I am capable of committing to something. Script writing may be slow going, but I have been making progress. So maybe I'm not such a bad example after all. All I know is, I made the right decision at the right time. But I will do everything I can to keep my kids in school. There were things that made life unbearable at 17, but I often wonder how life would have been different if I had stuck it out just one more year. I'm going to go to that reunion. And I am going to have a great time. And I'm going to come home and tell my kids all about it. (Well, the PG parts of it, anyway.) Because it's the only part of high school I can still be proud to be a part of.
I could have breakfast with the Misfits, lunch with the Thespians, hang out after school with the Musicians and the Stoners, get on the bus with the Nerds and then spend my weekends with kids that didn't even go to my school. It only took one bad relationship to teach me to never date boys that went to the same school I did. The reasons I left school are much too complicated to explain in black and white, and I don't regret the decision, but it has led to some lonely times as an adult.
I don't have any high school reunions to look forward to. In fact, I look forward to my husband's high school reunions. What can I say? I live vicariously through his time tested friendships. I did recently get invited to my Thespian Troupe's reunion. We were the first Thespian Troupe in our school because we went to a new high school. We set a lot of the ground rules. I guess it was kind of a big deal now that I think of it. But I was actually surprised to get the invite.
It was the only society I ever joined, until college anyway. At that time, theater was all I ever wanted to do. It was all any of us ever wanted to do. It was the common bond that joined us all together. Actors, costumers, stage managers, directors, lighting technicians, sound artists... But I didn't participate very much on my high school stage. When I was younger, before high school, I had gotten involved in local community theaters and had formed deep bonds with the people there. That was where my friends were. That was where my heart was. That was where my passion was. That was where I wanted to be. And that was where I stayed for nearly 20 years. I'd still be there today had it not been for my stroke in 2010.
Now I am invited to this reunion. I feel a little hypocritical going because I didn't contribute anything to my Thespian Troupe. I thought about not going at all. I don't have anything to show to anyone. I don't feel that I made anything of myself. I didn't form any long lasting friendships with anyone. But I want to see these people. They still mean something to me. The best part about theater is that they welcome everyone and for the most part, they welcomed me.
Who cares if we didn't all become famous? Who cares if we all gained some weight (well I did)? I'm sure none of us are where we thought we would be when we left high school. It'll be fun to see what happened to everyone. Where we all went and how we all got there. Who knows? Maybe I'll get some ideas for a new script. After all these years, I still can't stay away from theater, even though now I'm a struggling (very struggling) playwright.
Maybe I am capable of committing to something. Script writing may be slow going, but I have been making progress. So maybe I'm not such a bad example after all. All I know is, I made the right decision at the right time. But I will do everything I can to keep my kids in school. There were things that made life unbearable at 17, but I often wonder how life would have been different if I had stuck it out just one more year. I'm going to go to that reunion. And I am going to have a great time. And I'm going to come home and tell my kids all about it. (Well, the PG parts of it, anyway.) Because it's the only part of high school I can still be proud to be a part of.
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