Monday Musings...

When my sister and I were trying to get to know each other with a blog that both of us had to contribute to, we started Monday Musings as a way to share some random thoughts on just about anything. Our blog ended December 31, 2009 and, with it, so did Monday Musings. I've decided to start it up again. No rules, no guidelines, just my random thoughts...feel free to jump in...I'd love to hear your opinion.

Monday Musings...

My oldest child, Charming, is an adult with a life that is almost completely separate from mine. This means many of his friends are heading off in other directions. Today he told me that one of his friends is engaged. I loved hearing the news, but it made me wonder if I'd her the news when she got married or had her first child. I don't know her parents at all. We moved here when Charming was almost 15, so the play dates, school functions, and sports that bind us all together when our children are little aren't part of my life up here. My friends back in So Cal have kids the same age as Charming and we used to share the news of our children's lives, making each family part of the other family's journey. Now those children are starting their lives, too, but I don't hear about the little things...the things people think are too trivial to share. They would be wrong. I feel like I'm missing something by not being part of their stories. I don't hear about the boyfriends, the new jobs, or the other things that are important in their lives.

These kids/young adults have been important to my son and have often spent some time with our family. But, as is often the case, the kids come and go in each other's lives. Some passed through our lives barely notice, but some, however, stick with me. Maybe I know more about them, maybe they had a spark that caught my attention. For whatever reason, I think of them. I wonder about them. While I'm not invested in their lives, I truly wish them the best and love to hear news of those lives. It makes me feel weird to think that for some of these kids, I'll just never know more than I already now. Now Charming is getting ready to graduate from college and the stories of the kids he's gone to school with will fade, leaving me with new questions. Will the room-mate the girlfriend actually get married? Will the female friend go on to be a biologist (or whatever kind of biological scientist she's planning on being). What about the kids that are just phoning it in? Will they finally find their passion and go for it? The truth is, I probably won't ever know. The only chapter I'll get to read is the one in which their lives intersected ours. It feels like I don't get finish the book...to reach the happy ending I want for all of them.

They're at the beginning of some wonderful journeys and I'll not get to cheer them on. I think it makes me a little bit sad.

What do you think? Am I weird? Do you ever think about things like this?

The Real Rules

I receive this email every once in awhile. As I read the Rules again, I thought how true they were and how we, as adults, have a duty to make certain our children understand them. These are the rules of adulthood. Aren't we supposed to be raising capable individuals who are contributing members of society? Why are we protecting them from life's lessons into adulthood? How old will be old enough to take over the reins of their lives?

While often attributed to Bill Gates, the following "rules" are actually the work of Charles J. Sykes, the author of "Dumbing Down our Kids: Why American Children Feel Good About Themselves, but can't Read, Write or Add" and "A Nation of Victims: The Decay of American Character" and form the meat of the book, "50 Rules Kids Won't Learn in School; Real-World Antidotes to Feel Good Education".

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2 : The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3 : You will NOT make $60,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4 : If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5 : Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up,it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the closet in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into semesters. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Bittersweet...

Today is officially the last day of Christmas break. Even we homeschoolers will be back to work in the schoolroom tomorrow. Superman returns to work after such much needed vacation which he, unfortunately, spent shoveling, shoveling, and then, shoveling again! I didn't get most of the things done that I had planned to get done, but somehow, being housebound was a psychological drain, even as we had everything we needed. It's all good, though, and I'm excited for Monday morning.

Prince Charming headed back to the dorms today and I sent him off with bittersweet feelings in my heart. I was sad to see him leave, but I am exhausted by the dance we've been doing.

For you see, Charming was born with the wind at his back, or winged shoes like Hermes...he's been in a hurry to leave from the moment he was born. He started walking before he was nine months old and he's been leaving ever since. Raising him has stretched me and strengthened me in ways I would never have imagined, had you asked me almost 18 years ago. The responsibility is immense and humbling and a privilege, as I was allowed to guide this already formed individual to adulthood. But this man-child, more than my other children, has never let me forget that he is only on loan to me, and that he sometimes resents the time he is bound to earth, as it were. In this, he's taught me to let go rather than smother. He must fall, or he'll never learn to get back up. He must be allowed to fail, so he'll learn how to try again. He must be challenged, so he'll learn to triumph. Finally, he must be allowed to go it alone, so he learns that it is not weakness to hold hands. (Believing these things, however, doesn't make it easy to deal with a man-child you sometimes have difficulty recognizing as your sweet baby boy.)

So it was that his time home from the dorms was difficult for us all, as he found family life uncomfortable, like a favorite sweater that doesn't fit quite the same way and doesn't feel quite the same way and doesn't make you feel quite the same way when you wear it. You hold on to the sweater longer than you should because you loved wearing it, but, eventually, you recognize it is time for a change. That is how I view our evolving relationship with Charming. He's done being a child in our household, but he hasn't embraced being an adult member of the family. And, when he acts like one of the kids, we're all too comfortable to respond in kind, but that isn't right, either. He's pulling and tugging and stretching, trying to make an old role fit. All the while, it is an effort in vain...for he has, in fact, grown up. It is just that simple. Now we all need to stake out new patterns, new roles, even as we treasure the old ones.

So, even as I remember my baby boy with tears in my eyes, if I did my job right, he's reveling again in the opportunity to spread his wings.