Sunday, December 11, 2016
Monopoly Sucks
Our family loves playing table top games. I'm pretty sure we have a game for every occasion. I honestly credit games with helping our family stay connected.
I learned early on, when my oldest was 12 and our first exchange student was with us, that teens have little to no interest in hanging with the family. If I let him, our 17 year old exchange student would skip family activities at every opportunity. After a couple of months, I learned not to let him. As part of that we instituted Mandatory Family Game. The traditions lives on, even now years after that student left our family. Not only have I not regretted it, but now that they are older our former exchange sons and my oldest have said they were glad for the family time we've had. So, you should play games not just because they're fun, not just because they're educational, but because they can literally help hold a family together.
Have I also mentioned that it's affordable? While most games are quite affordable, some can cost as much as $50 or even more, but when you amortize it across the number of times it's played, and number of people who play it, it's cheaper than water. Think about it. How much does it cost to entertain your family? For my family of 5 we're lucky to get a meal out for $40 (and that's at a fast food joint). A movie? That will set us back more than $50 just for the tickets, plus the cost of the requisite popcorn and soda. Now we're entertained for what, 2 hours? A game can be played many times, by many people. $50 bucks (most are cheaper) plus a bowl of popcorn can be not just one family game night, but many, for years to come. Pennies for hours, years, of fun - and way cheaper than family therapy too.
You can tell we love games here. Lots of different games. Games of chance, strategy games, bluffing games, all sorts of games. But, not all games.
For instance, Monopoly sucks, more than a vacuum.
There I said it. I hate playing Monopoly. It lasts F.O.R.E.V.E.R. and it's boring, anddddddddddddddddd ugh.
So when a friend said her family had tried family game night and it always ended in a fight, and her husband didn't like to play games, I wasn't sympathetic the way a friend should be. No, jerk that I am, I said "Then you're playing the wrong games. What games are you playing?" Because I'm that awful person who means well, thinks they can help, and doesn't wait to be asked their opinion.
The old standbys that most of us grew up gaming are... old. Some are still great, but honestly there's a lot more out there than many folks know about.
For my friends with the bored husband and fighting kids I suggested Coup and Bang Dice. Both are bluffing games, involving lying, killing, and winning by being the last one standing. These games are fun for both adults and kids. You don't need to be a great reader to play them. They work for 4 or more players. We joke sarcastically about these games' great family values - but the kids not only love killing each other (and Mom and Dad), they seem to get along just a little bit better after working out some of their aggression in a game.
We probably have a game for just about any occasion, and a wide variety of player ages, numbers, and interest. I love to review them for you, but I hardly know where to start. Help me out?
What is your family like? What are you looking for in a game?
If you let me know, I'll write up a post with some ideas that just might fit the bill.
Tuesday, November 29, 2016
Finding a good-enough school
It's that time of year again.
No, I'm not talking about the holiday season.
(Although, it is the holiday season. Happy Holidays and all that.)
I'm talking about school choice. Our local school district offers school choice, if the local school has any room after taking all the kids in its' designated area. There are also several charter schools in the area. This means that signing up for school isn't as simple was walking to the neighborhood school and filling out a form. For most of us it means we have to make an active choice. At PSD registration deadline for school of choice is in January 27 for secondary schools, February 10 for elementary. Dates on applications to the charter schools vary, so check out each school directly to be safe.
I've been asked (sometimes with voices tinged with desperation) "HOW? How do we choose? How do we find the perfect school for our child?"
My answer?
You don't. There is no perfect school. If you're lucky there might be a good-enough school. If you're super-duper-extra lucky, that school will be your local school. Actually, for lots of folks, especially those people whose kids fall into the "normal" category, your local school may be an excellent choice, but wouldn't it be nice to feel confident that it was?
So, given that, and a recent question that showed up on FB, I thought I'd share our process with you, in the hopes that it might help you think about your own process and what your priorities are.
Basically, we visited all the schools that seemed like they might be a good fit. We sat down w/ councilors at each school, did a peer tour, etc... made a spread sheet with pro and cons of each school and compared it to our kids' list of priorities. We supported them as they did this, they didn't do it alone. If we thought they'd missed a category we ask them to consider it, if we'd picked up on a nuance during the school visit we'd ask them about it... etc.
Things you might want to consider as you ponder schools:
Location - there's a lot to be said for being able to walk to school. If you can't walk, is there a school bus? A public bus? What is the schedule like? How far is it to bike and/or drive and is it on the way to other places (like your work, another child's school, etc.) Is a carpool possible? What are your limits around driving time? Consider that if your child does after-school activities the school bus probably won't bring them home.
Why is your kid going to school?
Academics? Social outlet? Sports? Music or art? Some schools are better at somethings than others. Some have a specific culture, or some special teachers and/or programs that really stand out. What does your kid need? What do they want? What are you seeing at the school?
How much does inclusivity matter to you? A higher rate of free/reduced lunch likely means that there's more racial and socio-economic diversity, which can be of value. It might (not necessarily, but might) also mean a school is overwhelmed with higher need students. Think about your values, your child's needs, and compare it to the actual school.
Here's a list of questions we asked during our visits:
(pick and choose freely)
Can you describe your school culture?
How do you think you are perceived in the community?
How is that perception accurate? How is it inaccurate?
How would you describe the relationship between the staff and faculty with the students?
How would you describe the relationship between the school and parents/families?
How many students attend this school? (ask for break down of grade levels, free/reduced lunch, number involved in extra-curriculars, graduation rate, attend college rate...)
What is the student/teacher ratio?
How do you handle special needs kids?
What kind of gifted programs do you offer?
Do you have experience with profoundly gifted students (ask more if they say "yes", PG applies to 1/10,000 or fewer students, so they might not realize what you're talking about)
What kind of support for students with learning differences/disabilities?
What kind of differentiation?
Does your school offer co-enrollment (college credit during high school) Under what circumstances and how to access that?
What other special programs (IB, AP, experiential learning...?)
What enrichment programs do you offer?
What kind of music program do you offer? Classes vs. before or after school? Marching band required for all band instruments? Different instructors for band, orchestra, and choir (for bigger schools, not realistic for small schools to have many music teachers) Ask to meet the instructor if this is an important area for your kiddo.
What kind of art classes are available? (If you have an artist kid, ask to meet the teacher)
What clubs are on campus? Which are student run? Which are supported by school/teacher/coaches?
Can students from a different schools or homeschooling join your clubs/teams/extra-curriculars?
What programs do you have set up to help students make connections, fit in, "find a home" in a large school?
Is part-time school an option?
Is this an inordinate amount of work?
Perhaps.
If your kid is comfortable where they are, then you probably don't need to change anything. If, however, your kid is struggling, is not feeling challenged, is acting out, etc... then it might be worth thinking about what is working and what isn't, and what you can do about it.
For us, all that work paid off with our oldest when he was picking his college. After his high school experience he had a strong sense of his priorities, what he could and could not put up with. He's in his first year of university and really enjoying it. Woot!
Let's celebrate the victories when they happen, eh?
No, I'm not talking about the holiday season.
(Although, it is the holiday season. Happy Holidays and all that.)
I'm talking about school choice. Our local school district offers school choice, if the local school has any room after taking all the kids in its' designated area. There are also several charter schools in the area. This means that signing up for school isn't as simple was walking to the neighborhood school and filling out a form. For most of us it means we have to make an active choice. At PSD registration deadline for school of choice is in January 27 for secondary schools, February 10 for elementary. Dates on applications to the charter schools vary, so check out each school directly to be safe.
I've been asked (sometimes with voices tinged with desperation) "HOW? How do we choose? How do we find the perfect school for our child?"
My answer?
You don't. There is no perfect school. If you're lucky there might be a good-enough school. If you're super-duper-extra lucky, that school will be your local school. Actually, for lots of folks, especially those people whose kids fall into the "normal" category, your local school may be an excellent choice, but wouldn't it be nice to feel confident that it was?
So, given that, and a recent question that showed up on FB, I thought I'd share our process with you, in the hopes that it might help you think about your own process and what your priorities are.
Basically, we visited all the schools that seemed like they might be a good fit. We sat down w/ councilors at each school, did a peer tour, etc... made a spread sheet with pro and cons of each school and compared it to our kids' list of priorities. We supported them as they did this, they didn't do it alone. If we thought they'd missed a category we ask them to consider it, if we'd picked up on a nuance during the school visit we'd ask them about it... etc.
Things you might want to consider as you ponder schools:
Location - there's a lot to be said for being able to walk to school. If you can't walk, is there a school bus? A public bus? What is the schedule like? How far is it to bike and/or drive and is it on the way to other places (like your work, another child's school, etc.) Is a carpool possible? What are your limits around driving time? Consider that if your child does after-school activities the school bus probably won't bring them home.
Why is your kid going to school?
Academics? Social outlet? Sports? Music or art? Some schools are better at somethings than others. Some have a specific culture, or some special teachers and/or programs that really stand out. What does your kid need? What do they want? What are you seeing at the school?
How much does inclusivity matter to you? A higher rate of free/reduced lunch likely means that there's more racial and socio-economic diversity, which can be of value. It might (not necessarily, but might) also mean a school is overwhelmed with higher need students. Think about your values, your child's needs, and compare it to the actual school.
Here's a list of questions we asked during our visits:
(pick and choose freely)
Can you describe your school culture?
How do you think you are perceived in the community?
How is that perception accurate? How is it inaccurate?
How would you describe the relationship between the staff and faculty with the students?
How would you describe the relationship between the school and parents/families?
How many students attend this school? (ask for break down of grade levels, free/reduced lunch, number involved in extra-curriculars, graduation rate, attend college rate...)
What is the student/teacher ratio?
How do you handle special needs kids?
What kind of gifted programs do you offer?
Do you have experience with profoundly gifted students (ask more if they say "yes", PG applies to 1/10,000 or fewer students, so they might not realize what you're talking about)
What kind of support for students with learning differences/disabilities?
What kind of differentiation?
Does your school offer co-enrollment (college credit during high school) Under what circumstances and how to access that?
What other special programs (IB, AP, experiential learning...?)
What enrichment programs do you offer?
What kind of music program do you offer? Classes vs. before or after school? Marching band required for all band instruments? Different instructors for band, orchestra, and choir (for bigger schools, not realistic for small schools to have many music teachers) Ask to meet the instructor if this is an important area for your kiddo.
What kind of art classes are available? (If you have an artist kid, ask to meet the teacher)
What clubs are on campus? Which are student run? Which are supported by school/teacher/coaches?
Can students from a different schools or homeschooling join your clubs/teams/extra-curriculars?
What programs do you have set up to help students make connections, fit in, "find a home" in a large school?
Is part-time school an option?
Is this an inordinate amount of work?
Perhaps.
If your kid is comfortable where they are, then you probably don't need to change anything. If, however, your kid is struggling, is not feeling challenged, is acting out, etc... then it might be worth thinking about what is working and what isn't, and what you can do about it.
For us, all that work paid off with our oldest when he was picking his college. After his high school experience he had a strong sense of his priorities, what he could and could not put up with. He's in his first year of university and really enjoying it. Woot!
Let's celebrate the victories when they happen, eh?
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
So good to see you!
Let me tell you about Pieter, and the power of a joyful welcome.
Pieter joined our church choir while I was a well established soprano. He was older than me. That is, he was no longer middle aged, but he's spry, cheerful, and active, so it's hard to say "old", just older than me. We were glad to have him, he has an excellent tenor, and gawd knows our church choir can always use more male voices. (Of course, it would have been better if he had been a bass. Who doesn't need more bass? But we were glad to have him anyway.) Beyond his voice, he was engaged, reliable, and cheerful. Every organization needs more people like that.
The thing about Pieter is that, inexplicably, he was always glad to see me. Me. Personally. Shortly after he joined he started to seek me out at the church social hour. (Social hour is like coffee hour, except inclusive of non-coffee drinkers too, 'cause that's how we roll). Most people just say "hello" and smile, and that's nice, that's expected. I'm cool with that. When Pieter found me he didn't just say "Hi".
Pieter would greet me with remarkable enthusiasm. His whole face would light up with a big smile, he would open his arms wide, "April! So good to see you!" and offer a hug. He never forced a hug, just opened his arms to welcome one.
The first time he did this I was actually a little startled. I don't remember anyone ever being so glad to see me. (OK, maybe my dog.) I remember thinking "What does he want?" But he seemed safe and well intentioned, so I stepped in for that hug. It was an excellent decision, because seeing Pieter at church has become something that never ceases to make me smile. Nearly every time I saw him after that he repeated his sincere and energetic greeting. "Hello April! So good to see you!" Hug. Sometimes he followed up with a compliment "What would our choir be with out you?" or an inquiry "How's the family?" He introduced me to his wife Mary Pat. He started to tell me about his grandchildren. I learned a little more about his life and history. We started to become friends.
Although it doesn't seem like it's been that long, all this happened over the course of years. I met Pieter while I was still in the church choir. I dropped out of choir to do my year of cancer treatment in 2012, over 4 years ago, and I've never really gone back. I can't reliably stay up that late and still drive home, and too often the kids' school schedules things on choir night. I miss choir, but not enough to miss my kids activities, or enough to stay up and drive home once a week so late. We don't sing together anymore. I only see him at church social hour.
But still, every time he sees me, Pieter still greets me like a long lost friend. Which, now, he is. His joyful greeting, open heart, and willingness to be vulnerable has given me not only his friendship, but that of his wife's. I look forward to hearing about their holiday plans. I worry when I see he's been sick or hurt. I'm glad when he gets better. I care about him.
I didn't, and still don't, understand why he started greeting me that way. I liked Pieter well enough, but only knew him as a choir member. He wasn't even in my section. We'd never had a heart to heart. For some reason, he just decided that he was always glad to see me. Or, he acted as if he was always glad to see me, which, from my perspective, was exactly the same thing. His repeated and sincere greeting created a friendship where there was none before.
I don't know if it was hard for Pieter to do that. Did he have to think about being outgoing and engaging or did it just come naturally? Was it even conscious? Does it matter?
What magic. What power. What a gift he gave to me.
Pieter joined our church choir while I was a well established soprano. He was older than me. That is, he was no longer middle aged, but he's spry, cheerful, and active, so it's hard to say "old", just older than me. We were glad to have him, he has an excellent tenor, and gawd knows our church choir can always use more male voices. (Of course, it would have been better if he had been a bass. Who doesn't need more bass? But we were glad to have him anyway.) Beyond his voice, he was engaged, reliable, and cheerful. Every organization needs more people like that.
The thing about Pieter is that, inexplicably, he was always glad to see me. Me. Personally. Shortly after he joined he started to seek me out at the church social hour. (Social hour is like coffee hour, except inclusive of non-coffee drinkers too, 'cause that's how we roll). Most people just say "hello" and smile, and that's nice, that's expected. I'm cool with that. When Pieter found me he didn't just say "Hi".
Pieter would greet me with remarkable enthusiasm. His whole face would light up with a big smile, he would open his arms wide, "April! So good to see you!" and offer a hug. He never forced a hug, just opened his arms to welcome one.
The first time he did this I was actually a little startled. I don't remember anyone ever being so glad to see me. (OK, maybe my dog.) I remember thinking "What does he want?" But he seemed safe and well intentioned, so I stepped in for that hug. It was an excellent decision, because seeing Pieter at church has become something that never ceases to make me smile. Nearly every time I saw him after that he repeated his sincere and energetic greeting. "Hello April! So good to see you!" Hug. Sometimes he followed up with a compliment "What would our choir be with out you?" or an inquiry "How's the family?" He introduced me to his wife Mary Pat. He started to tell me about his grandchildren. I learned a little more about his life and history. We started to become friends.
Although it doesn't seem like it's been that long, all this happened over the course of years. I met Pieter while I was still in the church choir. I dropped out of choir to do my year of cancer treatment in 2012, over 4 years ago, and I've never really gone back. I can't reliably stay up that late and still drive home, and too often the kids' school schedules things on choir night. I miss choir, but not enough to miss my kids activities, or enough to stay up and drive home once a week so late. We don't sing together anymore. I only see him at church social hour.
But still, every time he sees me, Pieter still greets me like a long lost friend. Which, now, he is. His joyful greeting, open heart, and willingness to be vulnerable has given me not only his friendship, but that of his wife's. I look forward to hearing about their holiday plans. I worry when I see he's been sick or hurt. I'm glad when he gets better. I care about him.
I didn't, and still don't, understand why he started greeting me that way. I liked Pieter well enough, but only knew him as a choir member. He wasn't even in my section. We'd never had a heart to heart. For some reason, he just decided that he was always glad to see me. Or, he acted as if he was always glad to see me, which, from my perspective, was exactly the same thing. His repeated and sincere greeting created a friendship where there was none before.
I don't know if it was hard for Pieter to do that. Did he have to think about being outgoing and engaging or did it just come naturally? Was it even conscious? Does it matter?
What magic. What power. What a gift he gave to me.
Monday, November 14, 2016
So, that happened....
Boy, 2016, it's been some year.
We've had some big changes in our house, and, gawd help us, some big changes in our country.
The ascendancy of Trump changes everything. It changes how I look at my fellow citizens, 24% of whom voted for a known sexual predator, a self-professed racist, and a reasonably incompetent and demonstrably amoral businessman. It changes my assumption that I knew what "long" meant when Theodore Parker said "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." It changes my complacency about social and political involvement.
I could write for days, months, on the effects we're already seeing from the 2016 election. I might, but right now I'm still processing this. Trying to get my feet under me, trying to understand, trying to figure out how to be most effective and support those who are already feeling this seismal shift in our national expression of democracy.
I. Can't. Even.
So, I'll sequester that for a bit, and think more immediately.
The biggest change for us personally this year is that Firelord accepted an early retirement package last spring. His high tech employer was reducing their workforce and he qualified for early retirement. That was way better then those who simply were laid-off. (He came in one Monday morning and some really excellent engineers were missing. That certainly didn't encourage him to stay.) We felt the timing was good, we have some savings, the Affordable Care Act meant that we could be insured even if we didn't have an employer's group policy. Firelord could have some time with our last 2 boys before they leave home for good, give some time to the local Maker Space, think about starting his own business or consulting firm. I could work on my own pursuits a little more. (You know, after I figured out what my own pursuits might be after all these years of sublimating my personal energy.) Maybe we could get our house clean. (Shhh.. let a girl have her little fantasies)
Then last Tuesday happened. He-who-must-not-be-named did what so many of us thought was laughable, dangerous, impossible. Today's paper exclaims his new cabinet choices.
I know there are others with bigger more immediate worries. Compared to our Muslim friends, our black friends and family, our LGBTQ friends and family, we're privileged. Privileged enough that I sat my boys down and gave each of them another Mama Talk. We talked about using their privilege for good, the dangers to society (and to their souls) of being a bystander, and how we can safely support each other when we're calling out the forms of bullying. I hate that I had to do that, I'm ashamed it took so long. I'm proud that they felt they already knew that. I'm proud/sad/frightened that Hot Dog chose to wear a safety pin to his pubic school orchestra today.
I know we're privileged, insulated by our class and my husband's white skin and my ability to (mostly) pass.
Which isn't to say that we're aren't personally affected by this. Most immediately we no longer can depend on being able to get health insurance when the COBRA runs out. Stage III cancer is one hell of a pre-existing condition. The next time I need cancer treatment it could wipe us out.
We are now looking for ways to make this work. We'd have to make some serious bank to cover medical costs if we don't have insurance. Can we do that? Do we try to start the family business Firelord has in mind? Does one of us need to go back and work for "the man"? Which one? Do I go back to grad school so that I can work (finally) as an engineer? Dare I write more? Keep up with my volunteer work?
And can you imagine navigating these changes if you are a person of color in this country? If you're brown and fellow citizens are shouting at your children to "Go back"? If your black child comes home from school shaking because a child in her class called her a "nigger"? These things are happening to people I personally know.
So today I'll remember to be grateful for my 1st world problem of how to get and keep medical insurance, and I'll think about how we can change this country to truly include everyone wholeheartedly.
We've had some big changes in our house, and, gawd help us, some big changes in our country.
The ascendancy of Trump changes everything. It changes how I look at my fellow citizens, 24% of whom voted for a known sexual predator, a self-professed racist, and a reasonably incompetent and demonstrably amoral businessman. It changes my assumption that I knew what "long" meant when Theodore Parker said "The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice." It changes my complacency about social and political involvement.
I could write for days, months, on the effects we're already seeing from the 2016 election. I might, but right now I'm still processing this. Trying to get my feet under me, trying to understand, trying to figure out how to be most effective and support those who are already feeling this seismal shift in our national expression of democracy.
I. Can't. Even.
So, I'll sequester that for a bit, and think more immediately.
The biggest change for us personally this year is that Firelord accepted an early retirement package last spring. His high tech employer was reducing their workforce and he qualified for early retirement. That was way better then those who simply were laid-off. (He came in one Monday morning and some really excellent engineers were missing. That certainly didn't encourage him to stay.) We felt the timing was good, we have some savings, the Affordable Care Act meant that we could be insured even if we didn't have an employer's group policy. Firelord could have some time with our last 2 boys before they leave home for good, give some time to the local Maker Space, think about starting his own business or consulting firm. I could work on my own pursuits a little more. (You know, after I figured out what my own pursuits might be after all these years of sublimating my personal energy.) Maybe we could get our house clean. (Shhh.. let a girl have her little fantasies)
Then last Tuesday happened. He-who-must-not-be-named did what so many of us thought was laughable, dangerous, impossible. Today's paper exclaims his new cabinet choices.
I know there are others with bigger more immediate worries. Compared to our Muslim friends, our black friends and family, our LGBTQ friends and family, we're privileged. Privileged enough that I sat my boys down and gave each of them another Mama Talk. We talked about using their privilege for good, the dangers to society (and to their souls) of being a bystander, and how we can safely support each other when we're calling out the forms of bullying. I hate that I had to do that, I'm ashamed it took so long. I'm proud that they felt they already knew that. I'm proud/sad/frightened that Hot Dog chose to wear a safety pin to his pubic school orchestra today.
I know we're privileged, insulated by our class and my husband's white skin and my ability to (mostly) pass.
Which isn't to say that we're aren't personally affected by this. Most immediately we no longer can depend on being able to get health insurance when the COBRA runs out. Stage III cancer is one hell of a pre-existing condition. The next time I need cancer treatment it could wipe us out.
We are now looking for ways to make this work. We'd have to make some serious bank to cover medical costs if we don't have insurance. Can we do that? Do we try to start the family business Firelord has in mind? Does one of us need to go back and work for "the man"? Which one? Do I go back to grad school so that I can work (finally) as an engineer? Dare I write more? Keep up with my volunteer work?
And can you imagine navigating these changes if you are a person of color in this country? If you're brown and fellow citizens are shouting at your children to "Go back"? If your black child comes home from school shaking because a child in her class called her a "nigger"? These things are happening to people I personally know.
So today I'll remember to be grateful for my 1st world problem of how to get and keep medical insurance, and I'll think about how we can change this country to truly include everyone wholeheartedly.
Tuesday, November 1, 2016
September/October Books
- Masterminds and Wingmen, by Rosalind Wiseman
- Between the World and Me, by Ta-Nehisi Coates
- The Raven Boys, by Maggie Stiefvater
- Kindred, by Octavia Butler
- Feyland The Dark Relm, by Anthea Sharp
- Soulbonded Buried Destiny, by A. E. Wasp
Masterminds and Wingmen was written by the same gal who wrote Queen Bees and Wanna Bees, and is a similar book. It gives clueless parents (me) insight into modern boy culture (HotDog). I don't know that it's as helpful as Queen Bees, but then I never had girls so maybe that wasn't as helpful/insightful as it seemed to me at the time I read it.
I liked what Between the World and Me had to say, but the lack of chapters made it a bit of a run-on sentence Except for not, because it has sentences and paragraphs, and flowed well. I just like an easy spot to close a book for a while.
The Raven Boys is the first in a series, and I was please to rediscover than I like Stiefvater.
Octavia Bulter - how did I miss her work all these years? Luckily book group fixed that, so now I can go find her other stuff.
Feyland was one of those free Kindle books, which can be hit or miss. This one was mostly a hit. Nothing particularly literary, but a good read, and hey! That's what I was looking for.
Buried Destiny is the first in a series by a new author. It's a paranormal gay romance, I enjoyed it, and gay romance isn't my usual thing. (Full disclosure, I've known the author since we both had nursing babes, so I might be a bit biased. Except I'm not, if you like gay paranormal romance, this is a good one.)
Saturday, October 1, 2016
I call bullshit
Back in Aug I saw another post about National Cancer
Survivor Day, "battling" against cancer, "brave" survivors, etc. blah,
blah, blah. "Copy and paste, share, if you too know someone touched by
cancer."
Now it's October - National Breast Cancer Awareness Month.
Nope.
Just nope.
Don't pink wash it by buying some product.
Don't seek attention for yourself by asking for people to notice that you know someone touched by cancer (hint - we all do, it's not that uncommon).
Don't be condescending and victim blaming by using words like "battle" and "brave". Most cancer patients have many, many days when they don't feel like battling and being brave, and that's OK.
You want to make a difference?
Fork over some bucks to primary research.
Write a letter to your senators and representatives letting them know that you support, and expect them to support, and FUND, fundamental cancer research.
Make a meal for a family currently dealing with this, but ask first if/when it's convenient, and if there are any foods you should avoid - and then actually show up when you said you would.
Ask what they want and need, then listen and follow through - clean a patients house, do some laundry, pull some weeds.
And most of all, remember that people with cancer are just that - PEOPLE who happen to have an illness that every single one of us will have, if we live long enough.
Nope.
Just nope.
Don't pink wash it by buying some product.
Don't seek attention for yourself by asking for people to notice that you know someone touched by cancer (hint - we all do, it's not that uncommon).
Don't be condescending and victim blaming by using words like "battle" and "brave". Most cancer patients have many, many days when they don't feel like battling and being brave, and that's OK.
You want to make a difference?
Fork over some bucks to primary research.
Write a letter to your senators and representatives letting them know that you support, and expect them to support, and FUND, fundamental cancer research.
Make a meal for a family currently dealing with this, but ask first if/when it's convenient, and if there are any foods you should avoid - and then actually show up when you said you would.
Ask what they want and need, then listen and follow through - clean a patients house, do some laundry, pull some weeds.
And most of all, remember that people with cancer are just that - PEOPLE who happen to have an illness that every single one of us will have, if we live long enough.
Friday, September 16, 2016
Dear World,
Be gentle with me today. My heart is tender, my soul is tired, and my spirit is weary.
I love my children, I miss my son, I wish I could hold on to these tender and increasingly rare moments we have together.
So many times in the past I felt melancholy, bitter sweet, because that particular moment was so precious, everything was so very right, I wanted to hold on to it. I knew I would miss it when it was gone.
I was right.
I miss having that little baby look up at me while he nursed.
I miss having that little hand holding tight to mine as he practiced walking.
I miss watching him learn, seeing the light of discovery in his face.
I miss listening to his ideas and plans, however impossible and impractical.
I miss that time when we were all everything to each other.
Be gentle with me today. My heart is tender, my soul is tired, and my spirit is weary.
I love my children, I miss my son, I wish I could hold on to these tender and increasingly rare moments we have together.
So many times in the past I felt melancholy, bitter sweet, because that particular moment was so precious, everything was so very right, I wanted to hold on to it. I knew I would miss it when it was gone.
I was right.
I miss having that little baby look up at me while he nursed.
I miss having that little hand holding tight to mine as he practiced walking.
I miss watching him learn, seeing the light of discovery in his face.
I miss listening to his ideas and plans, however impossible and impractical.
I miss that time when we were all everything to each other.
Thursday, September 8, 2016
August's Books
- Hillbilly Elegy, by J.D. Vance
- A Bolt from the Blue, by Jennifer Woodlief
- Governance and Ministry, by Dan Hotchkiss
I highly recommend Hillbilly Elegy to anyone interested in the current political climate, class issues, or just a really good memoir. There was much in this writer's experience that mirrored mine, despite his being a white "hillbilly" and me being a little brown Latina.
A Bolt from the Blue was a quick read, a book group book, one of those that I would have never read on my own.
Governance and Ministry, well that was just work. Useful work, but work.
Wednesday, August 10, 2016
How fair is a high IQ?
A friend posted an article on FB today, The War on Stupid People.
A quick read reveals that the author fears that intelligence is not only an innate and unfair advantage, but that the intelligent are setting up society for their own purposes.
"we have embraced the idea of a meritocracy with few reservations, even treating it as virtuous. That can’t be right. Smart people should feel entitled to make the most of their gift. But they should not be permitted to reshape society so as to instate giftedness as a universal yardstick of human worth."
Wow! There's a lot tied up in that closing. Maybe some day I'll care enough to pick it apart.
For now I'll share this.
I think there is far more anti-intellectual bias in the U.S. than otherwise. Ask any parents who has had to deal with getting services for their gifted child, or just look at the Trump presidential campaign.
Here is the response I wrote on FB
Interesting article. It seems to have a fear based premise (that those who can't keep up are/will be left behind),which would make it appeal to those who are feeling threatened by their own current situation.
It seems to be a bit muddled - mixing education level, socio-economics and intelligence. (While related, those items are discrete.) Also, he doesn't seem to back up most of his statements with data.
Intelligence is a source of power, as is size, as is gender, socio-economic position, race, etc.. some of these things are inherent, and some are social constructs. While we can work to change the culture, do we really want to hinder those who can do great things?
Personally I'm super enjoying watching the Olympics. Even though I will never accomplish such feats, I can appreciate them, and only be a little bit jealous.
But, here is something useful to work with from the article:
"Quibble with the details all you want, but there’s no escaping the conclusion that most Americans aren’t smart enough to do something we are told is an essential step toward succeeding in our new, brain-centric economy—namely, get through four years of college with moderately good grades."
And that's something I think isn't true and this myth needs to be addressed.
We do not all have to have college degrees to be economically successful. In fact, the exorbitant cost of university means that the college educated graduate with more debt, and possibly less income (depending on major and geography) than those who chose a different route.
The culture of valuing white collar work over blue collar work has got to change.
Many people, including plenty of high IQ, do not fair well in a traditional classroom. Not all of us are cut out for college, or desk work. Add to that the fact that we have a looming shortage of necessary tradesworkers (due to an aging generation) and I think we have all the reason in the world to improve our valuation of those who work with their hands, provide necessary services, and contribute to our society.
Contrasting reads:
Harrison Berergon, by Kurt Vonnegut
Anti-Intellectualism in the U.S.
Anti-Intellectualism in American Life, by Richard Hofstadter
A quick read reveals that the author fears that intelligence is not only an innate and unfair advantage, but that the intelligent are setting up society for their own purposes.
"we have embraced the idea of a meritocracy with few reservations, even treating it as virtuous. That can’t be right. Smart people should feel entitled to make the most of their gift. But they should not be permitted to reshape society so as to instate giftedness as a universal yardstick of human worth."
Wow! There's a lot tied up in that closing. Maybe some day I'll care enough to pick it apart.
For now I'll share this.
I think there is far more anti-intellectual bias in the U.S. than otherwise. Ask any parents who has had to deal with getting services for their gifted child, or just look at the Trump presidential campaign.
Here is the response I wrote on FB
Interesting article. It seems to have a fear based premise (that those who can't keep up are/will be left behind),which would make it appeal to those who are feeling threatened by their own current situation.
It seems to be a bit muddled - mixing education level, socio-economics and intelligence. (While related, those items are discrete.) Also, he doesn't seem to back up most of his statements with data.
Intelligence is a source of power, as is size, as is gender, socio-economic position, race, etc.. some of these things are inherent, and some are social constructs. While we can work to change the culture, do we really want to hinder those who can do great things?
Personally I'm super enjoying watching the Olympics. Even though I will never accomplish such feats, I can appreciate them, and only be a little bit jealous.
But, here is something useful to work with from the article:
"Quibble with the details all you want, but there’s no escaping the conclusion that most Americans aren’t smart enough to do something we are told is an essential step toward succeeding in our new, brain-centric economy—namely, get through four years of college with moderately good grades."
And that's something I think isn't true and this myth needs to be addressed.
We do not all have to have college degrees to be economically successful. In fact, the exorbitant cost of university means that the college educated graduate with more debt, and possibly less income (depending on major and geography) than those who chose a different route.
The culture of valuing white collar work over blue collar work has got to change.
Many people, including plenty of high IQ, do not fair well in a traditional classroom. Not all of us are cut out for college, or desk work. Add to that the fact that we have a looming shortage of necessary tradesworkers (due to an aging generation) and I think we have all the reason in the world to improve our valuation of those who work with their hands, provide necessary services, and contribute to our society.
Contrasting reads:
Harrison Berergon, by Kurt Vonnegut
Anti-Intellectualism in the U.S.
Anti-Intellectualism in American Life, by Richard Hofstadter
Monday, August 8, 2016
June and July Books
Jack (The Tale of Frost), by Tony Bertauski
A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
Not only did I not read much by way of books, I didn't keep track of them. This is me trying to remember what I read.... crickets... sigh...
I have some excuse...
In June we were traveling for Firelord's second sabbatical.
In July we were back in Colorado, but off to family camp, teen camp, camping camp... and so on.
I was reminded just last night about why I try to keep up a decent running list of what I've read. I was remembering a wonderful short story I found in an anthology of time travel stories. I couldn't remember the ending, and really wanted to read it again. I also couldn't remember the name of the story, or the name of the author, or the name of the anthology. Finally, after a few fruitless google searches I found the book: Synchronic, a book I'd received in a World Builders fund raiser box of books a couple of Christmas' ago. Now that I know what I'm looking for, I have to search the house for the book.
This was the haunting story:
Reset (MeiLin Miranda)
Sandy’s best friend Catherine changed when she turned sixteen. She withdrew from life, and spent all her time drawing pictures of seven children she said would never exist. Thirty-four years later, Sandy finds out why.
I can't even describe how glad I am to know that I have a shot at finding the book at the library, if not somewhere in the house, but I would have found it sooner if I had listed on my blog!
A Farewell to Arms, by Ernest Hemingway
Not only did I not read much by way of books, I didn't keep track of them. This is me trying to remember what I read.... crickets... sigh...
I have some excuse...
In June we were traveling for Firelord's second sabbatical.
In July we were back in Colorado, but off to family camp, teen camp, camping camp... and so on.
I was reminded just last night about why I try to keep up a decent running list of what I've read. I was remembering a wonderful short story I found in an anthology of time travel stories. I couldn't remember the ending, and really wanted to read it again. I also couldn't remember the name of the story, or the name of the author, or the name of the anthology. Finally, after a few fruitless google searches I found the book: Synchronic, a book I'd received in a World Builders fund raiser box of books a couple of Christmas' ago. Now that I know what I'm looking for, I have to search the house for the book.
This was the haunting story:
Reset (MeiLin Miranda)
Sandy’s best friend Catherine changed when she turned sixteen. She withdrew from life, and spent all her time drawing pictures of seven children she said would never exist. Thirty-four years later, Sandy finds out why.
I can't even describe how glad I am to know that I have a shot at finding the book at the library, if not somewhere in the house, but I would have found it sooner if I had listed on my blog!
May Books
- Assignment in Eternity, by Robert Heinlein
- All Your Worth, by Elizabeth Warren and Amelia Warren Tyagi
- Old Man's War, by John Scalzi
- The Two-Income Trap, by Elizabeth Warren and Amila Warren Tyagi
- Lock In, by John Scalzi
- Me Before You, by Jojo Moyes
Saturday, May 7, 2016
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Friday, February 12, 2016
Dukkah
Dukkah - the suffering caused by attachment
You know that moment, or series of moments, when you see that so many things are changing? Not always bad change, but change from something you loved, enjoyed, appreciated? Maybe things have changed and you just now noticed.
It happens so often, so regularly, you'd think we'd be used to it.
But I'm not. Not ever really.
I know that if I just released my attachments, I would not suffer. But I choose to. I choose that suffering of attachment. I care, even if I could choose not to, I would still care.
I know that if I just released my attachments, I would not suffer. But I choose to. I choose that suffering of attachment. I care, even if I could choose not to, I would still care.
To not be attached, to not love, not appreciate, that is even a greater loss.
 |
| January sunrise - just a moment of color |
Then, there are those moments where time stands still.
Moments that mark - Before and After.
Moments where nothing is ever the same again.
I wish for you not to know those moments, but you will. You have.
It is the price we pay. Entrance fee to humanity.
A child died. She was so young. So bright. Her parents are my friends, and my heart aches. There are no words for such a loss.
Yet. Yet. I write anyway.
Her moments are gone. Her light shown only briefly.
It had beauty and shadow, and it is gone.
It had beauty and shadow, and it is gone.
Monday, January 25, 2016
Cancer treatment - the gift that keeps on giving
It is January. It's cold, dreary, and full of frozen yuck.
Four years ago this month, in January 2012, I was diagnosed with Stage III breast cancer. It was not the worst time of my life, but it was close. My reality changed irrevocably.
I spend that entire year undergoing cancer treatment. It wasn't as hellish as you might think, mostly due to good drugs, and even better friends and family. I had at least 4 or 5 surgeries, months of chemo and radiation. I find there are many bits I don't remember. Watching a video, Firelord will say "We've seen that", but it seems new to me. The kids will mention something they did, and I have little to no recollection of the incident. I remember taking trips to Steamboat, meeting my cousins in Yellowstone, girls night in our basement. I remember over a hundred meals being brought to our house. I don't remember suffering too much - then.
I suffered more the year after. That year I was supposed to be relieved and grateful. My hair started to grow back. My chemo-yellow skin pinked up. I looked "normal". But I didn't feel normal. I wasn't what I had been. I needed to sit more, and more often. My words stuttered and fell unspoken. My short term memory was no longer sufficient for many every day activities. I had constant pain, not just from the surgeries, but from peripheral neuropathy.
I looked fine. I was expected to get back to "normal" life. I consistently let people down with my inability to meet expectations - myself most of all.
I tried to tell folks, but no one wanted to hear it. I learned that the only acceptable response to "How are you?" is "fine". If I told my truth I was "complaining" and after all, "You're alive, right?" Which was funny, since alive hurts a hell of a lot and didn't always seem to be worth the price I was paying.
Just before one of the surgeries the nurse asked "DNR?" to which Firelord shouted "NO!" He told me "You don't get to choose, you have kids." I wasn't allowed to survive for me. I didn't survive for me. I survived for my kids. To do otherwise was too selfish to be allowed. Because I was a mother I allowed myself to suffer the torture that is cancer treatment.
Of all the things a cancer patient is supposed to be, selfish isn't one of them. Cancer patients should be warriors, bravely battling. Cancer survivors should be happy, grateful for the treatment that probably saved their lives. Cancer patients should be cheerful, remembering how many people are working to support and save them. God forbid the patient/survivor notices that the cancer hadn't yet done any harm and that the treatment did significant permanent damage. God forbid that we ever express impatience with our new limitations and continuing pain.
2013 was a really, really hard year.
2014 was a little better. By last year, 2015, I realized that this was it. This was as good as it was going to get. Three years out - I had made all the improvement I was likely to make from my cancer treatment induced injuries. It wasn't bad as it was that first year of survival. Now I've gotten used to it: wrapping my hand every night to minimize the affects of lymphodema, the constant pins and needles of neuropathy, the joint pain, dry skin, and poor memory caused by the aromitase inhibitor...
I've accepted a new normal, and it's not so bad. It's not that it's all kittens and rainbows. It's that I can see past the constant every day pains and discomfort in my body to the every day joys and trials of my life. Bit Boy will graduate high school this spring. He is planning on going to university. Lego Kid is a 9th grader, learning the ropes of high school and exploring a new kind of independence. Hot Dog is approaching adolescence, but still a boy, my last child. I get to see them every day. They still have their mom. The price I paid for that is high, but not too high.
The effects of cancer treatment are something that I will never be allowed to forget. But the experience of raising my kids, of getting to see them grow and change, that's something I will never dare forget.
Four years ago this month, in January 2012, I was diagnosed with Stage III breast cancer. It was not the worst time of my life, but it was close. My reality changed irrevocably.
I spend that entire year undergoing cancer treatment. It wasn't as hellish as you might think, mostly due to good drugs, and even better friends and family. I had at least 4 or 5 surgeries, months of chemo and radiation. I find there are many bits I don't remember. Watching a video, Firelord will say "We've seen that", but it seems new to me. The kids will mention something they did, and I have little to no recollection of the incident. I remember taking trips to Steamboat, meeting my cousins in Yellowstone, girls night in our basement. I remember over a hundred meals being brought to our house. I don't remember suffering too much - then.
I suffered more the year after. That year I was supposed to be relieved and grateful. My hair started to grow back. My chemo-yellow skin pinked up. I looked "normal". But I didn't feel normal. I wasn't what I had been. I needed to sit more, and more often. My words stuttered and fell unspoken. My short term memory was no longer sufficient for many every day activities. I had constant pain, not just from the surgeries, but from peripheral neuropathy.
I looked fine. I was expected to get back to "normal" life. I consistently let people down with my inability to meet expectations - myself most of all.
I tried to tell folks, but no one wanted to hear it. I learned that the only acceptable response to "How are you?" is "fine". If I told my truth I was "complaining" and after all, "You're alive, right?" Which was funny, since alive hurts a hell of a lot and didn't always seem to be worth the price I was paying.
Just before one of the surgeries the nurse asked "DNR?" to which Firelord shouted "NO!" He told me "You don't get to choose, you have kids." I wasn't allowed to survive for me. I didn't survive for me. I survived for my kids. To do otherwise was too selfish to be allowed. Because I was a mother I allowed myself to suffer the torture that is cancer treatment.
Of all the things a cancer patient is supposed to be, selfish isn't one of them. Cancer patients should be warriors, bravely battling. Cancer survivors should be happy, grateful for the treatment that probably saved their lives. Cancer patients should be cheerful, remembering how many people are working to support and save them. God forbid the patient/survivor notices that the cancer hadn't yet done any harm and that the treatment did significant permanent damage. God forbid that we ever express impatience with our new limitations and continuing pain.
2013 was a really, really hard year.
2014 was a little better. By last year, 2015, I realized that this was it. This was as good as it was going to get. Three years out - I had made all the improvement I was likely to make from my cancer treatment induced injuries. It wasn't bad as it was that first year of survival. Now I've gotten used to it: wrapping my hand every night to minimize the affects of lymphodema, the constant pins and needles of neuropathy, the joint pain, dry skin, and poor memory caused by the aromitase inhibitor...
I've accepted a new normal, and it's not so bad. It's not that it's all kittens and rainbows. It's that I can see past the constant every day pains and discomfort in my body to the every day joys and trials of my life. Bit Boy will graduate high school this spring. He is planning on going to university. Lego Kid is a 9th grader, learning the ropes of high school and exploring a new kind of independence. Hot Dog is approaching adolescence, but still a boy, my last child. I get to see them every day. They still have their mom. The price I paid for that is high, but not too high.
The effects of cancer treatment are something that I will never be allowed to forget. But the experience of raising my kids, of getting to see them grow and change, that's something I will never dare forget.
Sunday, January 10, 2016
December Book
Krakatoa, by Simon Winchester
Seriously? One book? Ya, I think that might be right. What can I say? December was a busy month. I started Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell in Dec, but just barely, so it wasn't finished until January.
Seriously? One book? Ya, I think that might be right. What can I say? December was a busy month. I started Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell in Dec, but just barely, so it wasn't finished until January.
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