Mid-CenturyModernMoms

A happy Thanksgiving

Almost always we go to  my brother's house for Thanksgiving.  He's my only sibling.  His wife is one of 4 kids, and all of her brothers and their families come up from the New York area.  And my dad, and her parents, and her parent's dog, and occasionally one of the brother's dogs too.

This has been going on for years.  And we've all gotten very comfortable with each other. 

The ages of the various kids are 20 (Abe) and 16 (Rosie).  Then my niece and nephew at 14 and 10.  Their first cousins at 12 and 10 and little Samantha at almost 4.

Now Sami is a friendly little girl, but we are people that she only sees once a year.  But when we arrived, I was saying hello to everyone and I put out my arms and asked her for a hug.  To everyone's amazement, she came right over!!

Later, at dinner time, she was out of sorts and didn't want to eat.  I had finished a plate-ful already, so I asked her if she wanted to snuggle with me.  So we did!!

Two complete families.  Grandparents with all of their children and grandchildren around.  Food, warmth and snuggling with a cute little red-head... this is what Thanksgiving is all about.

'Tis better to give than to eat yourself into a stupor

Thanksgiving means many things.

Turkey! Stuffing! My mother's apple and pomegranate salad! Pumpkin pie!

But for my family, Thanksgiving means more than a big meal of delicious food.

For the past 12 years, we have all piled into the car and headed off to a local senior center, where we load the car with turkey dinners and all the trimmings.

We would then drive -- all of us, or as many as could fit -- around town, delivering these meals to homebound seniors.

We began this holiday tradition years ago -- after a terrible time in our lives -- when my kids were having a pity party about how cruelly life had treated them. Yes, we had had to sell our house and move to "lesser" digs. Yes, we had to count our pennies. But also yes, we had a roof over our heads and food on our table and the love of family to keep us warm.

At that time, I sought a project that would remind them how precious life is and how lucky they still were ... and are. A tradition was born.

Which brings us to this year, when I was regrettably late in answering the call at the senior center. So many people have jumped on the volunteer bandwagon that their roster of drivers was full. There was no room for us.

So I consulted the internet to find another appropriate give-and-you-shall-receive project to continue to remind my children that, whatever circumstances we find ourselves in, we have much to be grateful for.

And boy, did I find one.

Every year, this one organization collects food, clothing, toiletries, whatever they can get their hands on. They gather in a rather unsavory part of town, where they put together meals; ziplock bags of toothbrushes, soap, shampoo, toothpaste; and bags of shirts, jackets, pants, beanies, whatever else comes their way.

They then load it all into the cars of willing volunteers who drive around the area and offer all of the above to people living on the streets.

This was a memorable experience, let me tell you.

We started out intending to volunteer to pack meals in the assembly line and ended up in the line to receive a load of Thanksgiving meals in our trunk.

Yes, Wonderhubby, the Roo-girl, Z-man, Drummer and I spent several hours driving around in parts of town where I never ever go on purpose, looking for people on the street who might be hungry and in need.

It wasn't as easy as you might think, since there are armies of people setting up tables in parks and on city streets to deliver meals to the homeless. Many of the people we saw were already carrying styrofoam boxes filled with holiday food.

Also, as we drove around, we had to carefully assess who was truly homeless, as opposed to those who just might be truly weird.

"Oh," said Drummer, putting it all in perspective in his inimitable way, "so ... we're profiling."

We laughed out loud after he said that, but actually, we truly were profiling, in a way -- assessing the people we saw based on attire, hair, posture and whether they were pushing a grocery cart filled with "treasure."

The first time we found someone we knew would need what we had to offer, Wonderhubby pulled the car over, and we all looked at each other. No one moved.

"Pffffft," I said, opening my door and getting out of the car.

"Pffffft," said Roo, literally climbing over her brothers to get out of the back seat and out of the car.

The two of us together approached the man with food and toiletries in hand.

"Are you hungry," Roo asked the man. "Would you like some food for Thanksgiving?"

"Yes," the man said, as we reached forward and handed him our wares. "Thank you so much."

"You have a very good Thanksgiving, my friend," said my daughter to the bedraggled man.

"Thank God there are people like you in the world," said the man to my daughter.

Roo and I walked back to the car together and smiled at each other.

We delivered all of our meals. Roo and I did the heavy lifting, but the hours we spent in the car as a family driving around on our quest were as meaningful as the act of charity itself.

Later, we had our own Thanksgiving meal with all the trimmings. But our own full bellies were not nearly as important as the bellies we had filled that morning.

Crossposted at From the Planet of Janet

Holiday stress

 

 

Can I just go spend the next four days on some tropical island?

 

I am just so tired of being in the middle!

 

My ex husband/current boyfriend wants our girls to spend Thanksgiving with him.

 

My parents and sisters want the girls to spend the day with them.  Drew is NOT invited.

 

Drew's suggestion, a compromise -- lunch at his house, dinner at my parents.  the girls aren't thrilled with that, but they're OK with it.

 

My sisters are up in arms!  they told my parents that Jen was hysterically crying about how she "didn't want to go" to her father's house.

 

My parents are upset because my sisters are upset. 

 

And I am being portrayed as evil incarnate because I dared to support a father's right to see his daughters for the holiday.

cross posted at Songbird's Crazy World

Regression

I'm starting to tear my hair out about Abe hibernating in his cave.

The deal when he moved home was that he was going to a) keep his room almost as clean as he had to at school, b) use the exercise room, c) go out to events and not just sit around his room playing on the computer and d) keep himself clean.

He was doing great with all of these when he first came home from school and all throughout the summer.  But now that the school year has started, all of these have just fallen off.

I vocally remind him to take his shower and brush his teeth.  Sometimes I remind him when I get a sensory cue, or I see the oil on his hair.

But Abe is close to 6 feet tall, and weighs over 220 pounds, so it's not like when he was a baby and I could pick him up.

One of the things that I'm doing (he doesn't know this yet) is removing him from the advanced (pay for) player category on his multi-player computer game.  He'll be back down to standard (free) level and it won't be as much fun.  Right now, he literally spends 6-10 (or more) hours each day on that game.  Too much!!!  And therefore, he doesn't go to sleep until 2-4 am, and sometimes misses classes.

I had found a social group, a pizza and games night, that he enjoyed.  But this last month, it was just too much work for him to RSVP for it.  He'd rather spend in on the massive player computer game.

If Rosie didn't need the computer/internet access, I'd totally disable the internet each night when I go to sleep.

HELP!!

 

Surprise Visit Home

I took a vacation day  Friday, needed to stay home to take care of some personal business (including what turned out to be a very expensive auto repair).

 

Middle of the afternoon, I was upstairs in my room doing some paperwork, when I thought I heard a familiar voice down in the foyer.  But no, it couldn't be...

 

A few minutes later, Jen was standing in the doorway.

 

She'd decided, on impulse, to come home for the weekend.  She'd been home for Columbus Day, and she'll be home again next week for Thanksgiving, but for some reason she just felt the need to come home Friday, so she hopped in her car and took the 3 1/2 hour drive.

 

Of course I took advantage of  her visit....I asked her to give me a ride to the bank, as my car was going to spend the night at Toyota...don't worry, she was amply rewarded  -- she hit me up for cash even before I  set foot inside the bank.  (I wasn't the only one to take care of her -- my mom took her to Costco for some provisions, and my sister baked a tray of brownies for Jen to share with her housemates.)  I guess she needed to be spoiled for a couple of days. 

 

Over the weekend Jen and I talked about her plans for next semester and next summer. She is taking a lot of classes in her major now, which leaves little room for electives, and she's feeling a bit pressured about that.  . She's thinking of a study abroad program for the summer (she's applying for her passport when she comes home next weekend).  And it's time to start thinking about a house to rent for next year (senior year!)

 

The one jarring note was the argument she had with her father Friday night....

 

But overall it was good having her home.

 

cross posted at Songbird's Crazy World

A Writing Issue

Happy Birthday to Abe!!!  He is now 20 years old!!  And I consider it a major accomplishment that this ADHD, Asperger's, NVLD, emotionally disturbed at times kid is in college and doing well.

Well, except in his remedial writing class.

 Abe reports that currently he has an A and 2 B's in his other classes.  But in writing....

Writing has ALWAYS been a problem for him. 

Throughout the semester, I've been asking him how his classes are going, and whether he's been availing himself of the resources that he needs- especially for writing.  And supposedly, all was okay.  But then he told me otherwise.

And he won't let me help him.  And he wouldn't take himself to the writing center.

Last week, I had an old friend over for dinner.  I had forgotten that she was a special ed. teacher in a college- actually working with much more severely handicapped kids.  So after dinner, she sat down with Abe for a little bit of time and gave him some pointers on how to get his ideas out.  And then, the following night, he told another friend of ours about this and she gave him some encouragement to go utilize the writing center- or failing that, ask me to get him a private writing tutor.

So we'll see how it goes now.

I don't want him to have this as a failure to his confidence.  And once he can get through these mandatory writing classes, he won't have to deal with this again in his chosen area of computers.

Give me a Y. Give me an A. Give me a Y!

The high school football season is over.

For us, anyway.

Praise the Lord and pass the pom-poms.

Actually, the truth is that I do enjoy my Friday nights with the cheerleaders. As the official team photographer, I have privileges that mere mortals don't have -- a field pass, which brings me up close and personal to my daughter and her teammates.

The past week -- the final game -- was a dismal display on the football field. But those of us on the sidelines enjoyed it thoroughly. Me probably more than most as the girls were funny and loose and more than willing to pose for the camera.

"Janet! Take my picture!"

"Janet! Take a picture of US!"

"Janet! Shoot us. Shoot a juniors-only picture!"

And my favorite ever:

"Mom! Take OUR picture!"

Yes, the Roo-girl was happy to have me there, with my camera clicking away, posing for photo after photo with her buddies.

The stupid smile on my face was legendary.

And then she said it.

"Mom, can you believe it? The next time I cheer at a football game, I'll be a SENIOR!"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh. My. Baby.

If you need me, I'll be over here, curled up in a ball, weeping quietly.

Crossposted at From the Planet of Janet

Clothing and the Ungrateful Teen

Shopping for Amigo's clothing is not fun.

Maybe that's not a strong enough statement. It is A PAIN IN THE PATOOTIE to shop for Amigo's clothes, whether he is on the shopping trip or not.

I bought pants for him last summer and brought them home; did him a favor by bringing them home so he didn't have to go to the store. He swore the entire time he tried them on.

We went to the shoe store. I let the store staff handle him, knowing he'd be more polite to them than he would be for me. While they helped, I found a pair for myself. Amigo made it to the car, then threw a tantrum that I had blown the routine by daring to buy a pair of shoes not on the list.

I quit. I said "No more!" Chuck is now in charge of try-ons and shoe trips. I will order or pick up clothes as needed, but I will not deal with the verbal abuse any more. Asperger's or no Asperger's, this is not acceptable. If Amigo can't handle it with Chuck, we'll start taking him to the store and shoving him into the dressing room on his own. It's called a Natural Consequence.

I ordered pants for the young man and got phenomenal bargains (thanks to Kohl's and Mir @ WantNot). Chuck handed them to Amigo this morning during the Saturday morning Public Radio listening routine, and lo and behold - all four pair fit.

Deep sigh of relief. I cut the tags off and dropped them in the wash. One set of tags was actually fun.

"So you're interested in (insert brand here)? Nice move. You're obviously smart, confident, and know what you want in life." Since I made the purchase, not Amigo, I'll take the compliment and conveniently set aside the fact that I bought them largely because of the sale price.

"Relaxed fit: the technical explanation -- We made this to look relaxed, not fitted." Yes, that's Amigo's preferred fit. Relaxed.

Care advice: "Love your neighbor. Eat more greens. Cheer up; it might never happen. Wash this when dirty." And on the inside of this tag: "(Insert brand name here) has been in the Helps-You-Look-Good business since 1948. We know what we're doing. People in magazines wear this stuff. Fashion people, sporty people. People who don't have to wear a suit everyday. So, we know it works." I can't see Amigo - or Chuck, for that matter - ever working a suit & tie job. This philosophy works for both of them.

And the final tag in the series discusses the various uses for these pants. "Suitable for: Training, Napping, Eating, Driving, Sports, Whatever." Works for me.

Why am I wasting these on my ungrateful offspring? I think I'll buy a pair for myself.

This is not a paid post. If you're savvy enough to do a phrase search for some of they key parts of these tags, you might find out which brand I bought for the ungrateful teenager.

Sibling Relationships

 

 

 

Do your kids get along?  Do they fight?  Do they hang out together?  Or do they avoid each other like the plague?  Or something in-between?

 

Jen was a toddler, 4 months shy of her second birthday, when Becca was born.  That 20-month age difference put them two years apart in school.  In hindsight I think this was a good thing -- they were close enough in age to share interests, but not so close so as to be in competition with each other all the time.  Made it easy for planning after school activities, like gymnastics or dance class.  I think one of the reasons Becca wanted to join the middle school cheer team was because Jen was on the team.  

 

Of course they had their moments.  They're sisters, they're girls, there's going to be drama and fighting. Many times we had to remind the girls "You're sisters and you love each other."    But these two managed to share a bedroom without killing each other.

 

By high school they traveled in very different social circles, and had very different interests.    I think that was a good thing, less head-to-head competition.  But they still managed to spend time together.

 

They're both in college now, Becca in NYC and Jen in New England.   They were both home for Columbus Day weekend, and they'll both be home for Thanksgiving.  But Sunday was Jen's birthday, and Becca...well, she hit me up for $$ for an Amtrak ticket so that she could go visit her sister.  They went to a party together, like two friends.

 

What did I mean, "like two friends"?  They ARE friends.

 

And I am so happy about that.

 

 

 

cross posted at Songbird's Crazy World

An Adult Decision

Last week, after a perfectly boring week (boring can be good!!), I was driving Rosie home from an activity.

Out of the blue, she says to me- Mom, I broke up with E.

I was pretty astounded since he had just been up and everything was fine, or so I thought.  So I leaned over and gave her a hug.

She continued- it's okay.  I decided that texting him until all hours was getting in the way of my schoolwork and I was doing as all as I could.  But we're still friends, and I absolutely love his family!

Rosie definitely has been tired all of the time, and I've been telling her to go to bed earlier.  It was the tiredness getting her down (she actually took a sick day just before this because she was so wiped out), I'm sure that her actual work hadn't suffered.  But this was a very adult decision and I'm happy that she made it.

I'm just wondering what is going to be the difference between going out when he's an hour away and being just friends?