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Mom on Strike

Teenagers can be very self-centered creatures.

I am not particularly fond of the eyes that teenagers see through. They really have difficulty seeing past themselves. I used to think that it was just my children and punished myself for a poor mothering job. But I have been purposefully watching the interaction of other teens with their parents and friends. They all think the world revolves around them as if parents aren't real people, with real feelings.

We were trying to plan our Saturday afternoon since we had a few unscheduled hours. This afternoon my son said something that summarized what has been irritating me. Now I am paraphrasing - but it was something to the extent of: "Our lives are completely monopolized by school and football when we get a little time off, we'd like to do what WE enjoy." Let that one sit for a minute.

I counted to ten after he said that. I took air in through my nose and let it out through my mouth. Before I knew what was coming, I had replied. "Guess what? My life is pretty much monopolized with parenting, homeschooling, cooking, cleaning, working, and running errands. When I get a little time off (which is rare) why does it have to be doing what YOU want to do?" I don't know where that came from. It just flew right out of my mouth!

I looked around the room at my family. No one said a word. But not because I had made my point with some great impact. But because they didn't care. They were unfazed. My irritation rapidly began to build. I thought about an after school special that had been on television when I was a kid. There was a mother who got sick of the whole thing and went on strike. She pitched a tent in her front yard and soon she had women from all over town pitching tents along side her in her yard. I could imagine myself doing this. I could imagine dozens of women flocking to accompany me. I had to shake the daydream before I was climbing the stairs to search for the tent.

I ask my children to do very little around this house to be very honest. I want them to focus on their studies and activities. But frankly, I am starting to poop out. This weekend after homeschooling my two kids and having a mammogram, I had a high school Friday night football game while daughter had dance rehearsals that we didn't return home til around 10:30pm after leaving the house at 4pm. Saturday morning Son #1 and Son #2 had to be back at football practice at 8:15 am and daughter had to be back at dance rehearsal at 10:30 am. My husband took the boys to practice and made a Walmart run on the way back, remembering the cat was out of food and pretty hungry. (Since she is 19 years old - it's probably best not to let that fester.) Meanwhile Son #3 had a football game at 11:15 that I never made it to because I was running with the others. I also managed to go to the grocery store buy $330.oo worth of food and unload all of the groceries before retrieving Son #1 and Son #2 at 12:00. Throughout this entire schedule I have been doing laundry non stop. Not easy laundry either. We're talking school uniforms that have to be removed and hung immediately, smelly football clothes that get washed double and dance clothes that are washed as delicates and hung to dry. We are talking your real pain in the you know what kind of laundry.

When we get home the beat down begins. All 3 boys are chomping at the bit to get to the yacht club for waverunning and skimboarding. My husband and I discuss this situation as we go to retrieve my daughter. We consider going to the county fair with the family rather than heading to the club. When we pick my daughter up from her dance rehearsal at 1:30pm, she informs us that she is not feeling well. Her stomach is upset. So much for the fair. When we get home - she goes to bed. On top of that, she has a fractured foot and has been in an aircast for the past two weeks...walking at the fair would probably not have been ideal.

We get home only for the beat down to continue. Son #3 wants us to order his visor for his football helmet and is pretty much obsessed with this task. Son #1 and Son #2 are positioning their line of questioning about going to the club. At this point, I am not a good person to hold a conversation with as it is 2:00 and I haven't had anything to eat yet today. So I know that I must feed myself in order to be rational. I make chicken salad. No bread. No gluten. Just chicken salad. I sit at my kitchen island alone eating my chicken salad listening to the shake of the washing machine and knowing that the clinking of the dryer is about to be finished. I wonder if I should stop eating and go set the dryer to fluff air or if I have enough time to woof it down.

I walk out to the family room and ask my family members to please pick up their belongings that have come into the house on each flurry of activity and been left. The cleats, football bags, gloves, shoes, backpacks, dance bag, and today's junk mail clutter the kitchen and family room. I ask that all of the dirty cups and dishes that were strewn this morning and last night as every one scoffed down their snacks and breakfasts be taken care of. I continue to change laundry over and fold it, putting it into piles. No one moves. I repeat the request a second time. For a third time, I repeat the request. It is at this moment, that I have flashes of me getting up and walking out. Not one person in that house made eye contact with me any of the 3 times I said it. Not one.

The next thing I know they are all in bathing suits getting ready to walk out of the door to go have "big fun." It is at this time that I raise my voice and make everyone stop in their tracks. I caution them and recount how many times I have asked them to take care of their belongings. There is a brief time of activity. I walk past the kitchen sink that is now full of dishes from their "clean up" to make the next change over of laundry. I can't help but notice that on top of the washing machine and on the floor in front of it are 2 more piles of dirty clothes that magically appeared after my request. I look at the 3 empty hamper bins that these clothes did not make it to...

They hop into the truck and off they go. I will be here with daughter who is not feeling well and wouldn't have been able to enjoy anytime at the club in her boot regardless. I will continue to do laundry, vacuum, do the dishes, empty the dishwasher, prepare dinner and get ready for their return. As I think about this I feel really angry. Last weekend it was the same thing. Saturday they were all off having their "big fun" while I did all of the these same chores. Now I don't work during the weekdays - I homeschool, I teach 7 ballet classes and I drive the taxi service and I spend hours watching football games each weekend...am I wrong to want help?

So I was just wondering, when is my free time? I have had to cancel my last three hair appointments. My last appointment was in July. My roots are 3 inches long and my gray is shimmering in the sunshine and my hair has grown into a completely different hairstyle. The paint on my nails is chipping and I haven't painted those in a month. Neither of these things do I consider to be my free time. At 40 years old, they are necessities for my sanity. Doing these things, keep me from becoming a hysterical mess and ending up in jail. Plan on having to come bail me out soon...

I could have dragged my daughter and gone with them I suppose. I did do that the other weekend. But let's be clear about something, I don't even consider going to the yacht club my "free time". I don't ride the wave runner. I don't skim board. I don't bait hooks with blood worms. I don't take nasty fish off of the hook either. I don't do much of anything when we are there but watch them do everything they want to do. Sort of like I have done every other day for the past 16 years.

So I started thinking what would I want to do with my free time? I haven't been to see the new waterfront in Washington DC. I'd like that. I'd like to take a drive and pick some apples. I think about finding a little pier to go crabbing like I used to near my grandmother's home. Those are things that I would like to do with free time right now.

Then I think about all that I NEED to do. I need to buy wrapping paper because I have some gifts to wrap. Son #2 has a list of supplies that he needs for school this week. I need to go get those. I need to pick up my watch that I left at the jewelers nearly 3 months ago. They've called me for about 3 weeks to pick it up. I figure by the time I show up - they will have sold it to someone else.

When you become a parent, there is no such thing as free time. Some days I'm okay with that. In fact, probably most days. I do understand that it isn't about me right now. It is about them. And that is what parents do - they put their kids first. Most times I would just suck it up and do what needed to be done. On any other day, they would have gone to do their thing and I wouldn't have minded so much. But when my teenager opened his mouth and made his declaration about HIS free time - I saw red. I think most parents are happy to comply. We just want our children to be grateful. Thankful. Not argumentative about deserving something more.

Honestly, the only thing keeping me from being on strike right now is that I don't know how to put up the flipping tent. But it is entirely possible that I might get angry enough to figure it out. Keep an eye on your local news...

Not Much To Say

Have you read Around the World in Eighty Days?

My 7th grade 12 year old has to read this book this year. Now this is not an easy book by any stretch of the imagination. He read the first chapter a couple of weeks ago and when we started to go through the comprehension questions afterwards, he was clueless. Unfortunately, this is my child that detests reading to begin with - so given a book of this caliber was going to be tough.

I took the book from him and started to read. Good grief. I understood the issue. Lots and lots of words. Now for some people (like myself) words are a beautiful thing. I could talk and talk and talk...(and those of you that know me - know I am not exaggerating.) I could write and write and write...(and those of you here reading this blog - know this is a fact as well.) But my son, well words are not his thing.

Many years ago, I went into the pediatrician's office for a checkup on my brand new baby girl. Son #3 went along and was only 20 months old when she was born. We discussed the fact that he did not have much to say. In fact, at the age of nearly 2, he barely spoke. There was little concern on the part of the doctor. She pointed out that he had 2 older brothers that spoke for and answered for him all of the time. He didn't really NEED to say much.

I thought about how I had carried Son #3 around on my hip for the past 20 months. Even through my pregnancy. I didn't carry him because he cried or fussed - I carried him because he always wanted to see everything. He did whatever I did - on my hip. I became adept at doing most things one-handed. It was quite a skill I had developed. He would point at things and his neck was on a constant swivel. He was an observer from very early on and never missed a thing. But words. Not so much.

I have always referred to him as my son of little words. I don't mean physically little. Little as in few. He was completely content all of the time. He was not an exuberant baby. Just pleasant, content and peaceful. If you sat to have a conversation with him, he would listen to every word you said. He acknowledged you with smiles and nods and one word responses. But getting him to full on engage was a chore.

I have a video of him when he was not quite 3 years old. It is the two of us having a conversation while I taped him behind the camera. It is probably the most telling of videos as it captured Son #3 perfectly. I watch it often and each time I still laugh. I still cry. I remember that day so vividly. We are discussing that the boys have gone to Kindergarten and Preschool and that his baby sister is taking a nap. We are planning lunch. He is looking forward to tuna fish. But no pickles because he doesn't "wike" them. He asks for soda with his sandwich. During the midst of this mundane conversation, we begin to have an exchange about potty training. I am telling him that if he goes on the potty he can swim in the big pool and go to preschool next year. He smiles and nods. He at this time is wearing the training pants with the stars on them that disappear when you wet them. I ask him, "Do you still have your stars?" He looks at me quickly and retorts. "Nah, I peed 'em." I begin laughing because that was Son #3. Very few words but when they came out - they were funny. The video continues. Moments later, he puts his head down very close to me and in the softest of voices says, "Mommy I don't want to talk anymore." And that is when I always begin to cry. I don't know why.

Son #3 has grown through the years and we have always joked how he sees things very black and white - not many shades of gray. Things are good. Things are bad. Things are fine. The answer is yes. The answer is no. No too much explanation involved. That would require too many words. Very compliant and very easy to get along with. Still a content child.

Also through the years we have learned what a great athlete he is. All coaches from all sports of all teams have approached us to tell us what a magnificent little guy he is to coach. They always say he is a coach's dream. He is very focused. He is still observing. He watches demonstrations and instructions. Very visual. I believe this is part of why he excels in athletics. Watch and do. Watch and do.

He has been watching sports on television since he was a preschooler. Loves to watch football, golf and college basketball. He can watch it for hours. Knows all of the teams, stats, schedules, players and scores. A few years ago, we were trying to encourage his reading. I invested in all of the Matt Christopher books that are about sports. Waste of money. But we finally struck oil with Sports Illustrated for Kids. Finally something he would read leisurely.

We joke all of the time about him being our family "reporter". He watches everything. Listens too. He sees the expression on faces. He hears the tone in voices. He has a good understanding of people. He is the first to report an incident, a problem or a story. If something has happened, Son #3 will burst onto the scene with the narrated version. Very aware of his surroundings and those that surround him.

Here we are in 7th grade though - still hating to read and still struggling to get beyond the words. So when I picked up that book and started to read I understood the issue immediately. I chose to read the book out loud to him. Paragraphs at a time. Then I asked him - "Okay, what is the author saying?" He blurted out his answer and he was correct. He watered down to a brief sentence what that "wordy" author had taken an entire page to write. I knew we were on to something here. I'm so lucky to be able to homeschool him. School would be difficult otherwise.

So everyday I read it to him. We stop every few paragraphs. He gives the "Cliff notes" version to me. We answer the questions and move on. Every day that I read this to him I have to get something to eat or drink to keep me awake because the guy really did use too many words and while I am reading Son #3 is writhing on the couch struggling to listen to all of those words like it is Chinese water torture. But every day we do it.

So yesterday I read a paragraph from the book to him.

"...His young companion felt herself more and more attached to him by other ties than gratitude; his silent but generous nature impressed her more than she thought; and it was almost unconsciously that she yielded to emotions which did not seem to have the least effect upon her protector. Aouda took the keenest interest in his plans, and became impatient at any incident which seemed likely to retard his journey."

I say, "What is happening here?"

He responds immediately. "She wants to ask him out but he doesn't pay attention to her."

I burst out into laughter. It was the same moment like when he told me he peed his pants. I kissed his face. I even called my mom read the same passage to her and told her what he said. She also broke out into a loud, long laugh.

Yet later that evening, I thought about that passage in the book again. About the main character being so silent that she was attracted to it. Interesting.

But I did cry again too. Just like I do watching the video when he says he doesn't want to talk anymore.

My guy of few words...

Just Call Me Radar...

Okay. So once again it appears that I am swimming upstream alone. I used to watch the television show M.A.S.H. It was a family favorite. Remember how Radar O'Reilly would stand oh so still in the midst of chaos and with a stoic look on his face say, "Choppers..."

There is alot of information circulating about the term "helicopter parenting." I have been inundated with it since Son #1 and Son #2 went to middle school. I have to admit, this whole thing is bizarre to me.

My children were and are homeschooled. Did you know that I don't sit next to them all day while they do their work? Nope, I don't. The manuals are written to them. They read the directions and instructions and make an attempt. If it is something that is difficult, new, or confusing to them I go over it with them until they feel comfortable. But my children, sit by themselves and work diligently - except for when the mail comes, then there is a mad race to get to the mailbox first.

When I was in school I would come home and Mom said, "Do you have any homework?" Inevitably the answer was yes. Later that night, when she would find me flapping my gums on the phone she would say, "Did you finish your homework?" I would answer that I had.

For the most part, I did do my homework unprompted. I wasn't watched over. There wasn't a designated homework spot or time. I wasn't rewarded with something for doing homework. It was my responsibility to do it. It was my job. If I didn't do it, there were consequences. (No - it wasn't being grounded.) Guess what happened when I didn't do my homework? I got a ZERO! That's right, a failing grade. If you get enough of those, your overall grade reflects it. Voila! There is the consequence to your behavior. Don't do the work - you fail.

Isn't this how life is? If I don't turn in my blog - I DON'T GET PAID! Do it enough - I DON'T HAVE A JOB! Cause and Effect in it's most simplistic form.

Even with my kids in high school and all of the technological things that they have to show you every assignment your child will receive all year long...I am not going to sit over top of them every night to oversee it. As a parent, I check on that computer. I see what they haven't turned in. What was late. What quiz was obviously not studied for. My husband and I have an ongoing dialogue with them. But they are making their own choices at this point. If they don't do it - their grades will reflect it. Then when they can't get into the college of their dreams because their grade point average wasn't what it should have been - they have learned a lesson at a hefty price. If there are things that are important to you - work for them. You get out of something what you put into it.

I hear the stories of parents doing science projects, setting up homework routines and rules. I read blogs and websites with all of these ideas and efforts that parents have. Schedules, calendars, grids and outlines organizing homework time. Encouragements and rewards - like extra video game time and ice cream. Really? Why do parents have to bribe their kids to do homework?

Homework is an expectation. Homework has been around forever. No one enjoys it, but it is as old as Methuselah. We all pay our dues. We've all been there and done that. How many of us as children, had an organized homework time schedule to be rewarded by our parents for completion? I bet if parents didn't micromanage homework time - that they would be surprised what would happen. There may be a few bumps at first - maybe even a missed assignment or two. But I bet they would see that their children can be responsible, intelligent children that will build self esteem when they do well and feel disappointed when they don't without parental interference. Wouldn't this promote a healthy motivation from within the child? Just a thought.

My kids certainly don't work up to their potential. What average teen does? Think back to when you were in school. Were you thinking at 15 years old that you needed to study for a week ahead of a test and get the very best possible grade that you could? Doubt it. I know I was thinking that I'd study the night before and hope for the best and between now and then I'd go to the football game, shopping at the mall and hang with my friends. If I got a B - that was great. Never occurred to me that if I worked harder it would have been an A. Yet, think about how we parent our kids and the expectations we place on them.

One of the points of argument that you will hear from parents is that the kids are so busy - there is no time to get the homework completed so they need to organize the time. Hmm. Priorities there are interesting. I'm pretty sure those kids are playing a sport in every season, involved in Girl/Boy Scouts, music lessons, and church activities. As a dance teacher, I have parents repeatedly telling me about their time constraints. They are going to be late because they have a girl scout meeting first and then they have to leave early because she has soccer game afterward.

The bottom line is this. I went to school and I am finished. It is now my child's turn. My pastor once said to me regarding my children and their faith, "They've got to get their own. You can't get it for them." I can take them to church. I can teach them what I believe to be right and wrong, but ultimately what they believe is theirs to find and own. I can't force it. My kids will learn this about their education too. It is their path not mine. I have to let them make their decisions and build their own character. To learn about what is important because there will be a consequence to every choice.

It is the very essence of parenting. We teach. We warn. We wait. We watch. From the beginning of telling little hands not to touch hot things - if they don't listen, they will get burned. Then we warn again - "Slow down you're going too fast." Bike crashes. Knees are skinned. As they get older the warnings are greater because the stakes are higher. We warn if you don't do well in high school you will have trouble getting into that university. Guess you will be commuting to community college now. As adults, our children will need to be diligent about their finances. If they aren't, there is a consequence - and all of my kids have been warned, "Live within your means and be smart because when you leave this house after college graduation, there is no more room at the Inn." Though it is a standing joke between family, there is some truth to that.

My mother still warns me of things when I am 40 years old. I still don't listen. I am usually sorry that I didn't.

An Old School Mom Attempts to Go Hi-Tech With an EPIC FAIL!

Upon hiring for writing my Teen Blog, I was encouraged to get out there and up my readership in order for them to want to keep my contract. I find nothing wrong with this. I begin investigating this tech world that I confess I don't know much about. I research how to increase your blog followers in many different articles. Right now - my biggest form of advertisement has been through my friends on Facebook and my family. Though I love you all dearly I don't think they were thinking that those kinds of numbers would sustain our partnership for any length of time. I began trying to implement some of the suggested techniques.

First they said to write often. So I began writing almost daily. Check.
Another suggestion was to make comments on other blogs or postings. So I started reading blogs that contained issues that pertained to me or my same interests. I posted a few comments when I learned that I had common views and specific thoughts with a few people. I left my URL as suggested and waited to see what would happen. Meanwhile, I felt that I had at least attempted a connection in a world that feels foreign to me.

A couple of months ago, I started a Twitter account. I'm not really sure that I have the time to invest in this thing. It is "real time" so if you don't keep up, you miss out. With my busy life, I just don't know how this will work out for me. Anyhow in my research attempts today, I decided that rather than using Facebook with some of these connections I would try to use Twitter. I tried to find places that I would feel comfortable connecting and have a mutually beneficial relationship.

I decided to get out there and "tweet". I put out over 40 "tweets" today referencing different stories that I have written in my blog. I was hoping that someone who was interested in the same things, might pick up on it and make a connection. I wasn't trying to collect followers - just find appropriate channels that would have common ground.

I was excited earlier today when a few people from sites that I commented on paid a visit to my blog. I was hoping that they would be interested in what I was dealing with in my parenting and that I would feel the same about them. After all, I thought parenting was universal and that most of us would be experiencing the same sorts of things to commiserate or build each other up.

I even called my mother to tell her how well it was going and I thought I was figuring some of this stuff out. I made that call WAY to soon. I had read on one of the blogs that they would be holding a "tweetchat". I'm still not even sure what that is...but nonetheless I was interested mostly in the topic. They were going to be discussing Facebook and it's use with our kids. Perfect! Right up my alley. It's been on my mind so much. Facebook is this new thing that you can't really find alot of parenting expertise about. Experts may make their suggestions - but we don't really know what the true ramifications of Facebook will be for our youth. As I blogged earlier, I am already seeing issues in my own children's interactions socially that cause alarm for me.

When I got home from working this evening - I remembered that this chat thing would be up and running. I was really curious to see what advice would be given. I tried to engage several times. I must have looked like a fool. I thought if you wanted to talk to someone you did the little @ sign and their "call name" - then tweeted away. After asking several questions of this person without ever being acknowledged - I gave up. Welp, I must not know what I am doing - they realize this and aren't willing to help out. Finally after the "tweetchat" was over, a general statement was made by this person about getting to know people before you follow them. Naturally, my insecurity led me to believe this was directed at me. After all, my Twitter is followed pathetically by 6 people and I'm pretty sure some of those accounts have lapsed.

So, while I am still feeling incredibly lame - another mother blogger who has chosen to follow me and I her today tweets. She says something to the extent of "If your entire twitter stream consists of you demanding that people follow you, I won't. You might want to rethink that tactic." I was shocked when this popped up. Of course, my insecurity went straight to the heart again. Clearly, this was intended for me and all of my tweets today about my parenting stories. She obviously must be somebody because she has roughly 50,000 followers. I'm a nobody with only 5. It dawns on me - I've been bullied at 40 years old by a complete stranger on Twitter.

Apparently the cyber world is a hostile place. I immediately blocked this mother from Baltimore, as this isn't the kind of heart I was looking to be involved with. I "unfollowed" her quickly. I guess there is no room for mistakes, human error, encouragement or forgiveness in the cyber world of Twitter. But think about it. How could you do all of those immense things in 140 characters anyhow?

SchoolHouse Rock Was WASTED on This Generation of Teens

I think social networking is wreaking havoc on our children's social and grammar skills.

The other day I was on Facebook and one of those "likes" popped up. You know the ones I'm talking about...random thoughts like, "One day I was hungry so I ate some popcorn. If you like this click like." This particular one said something to the effect - 'We are all friends on Facebook but when we see each other in real life, we don't talk.' My first reaction was to laugh. Mostly because it is true.

The other day I was out with my family getting ice cream. One of my sons turns to his brother and says "Oh, that's so and so over there." I asked, "Are you friends with him?" The answer was, "On Facebook." My reply, "Aren't you going to go talk to him?" My son's answer, "No way. He's not my friend. I don't know him." Each boy manages to look in another direction so as not to make eye contact. Interesting, don't you think?

Here is another scenario for you. My kids send texts back and forth on their cell phones with our next door neighbors. Now they haven't had actual real face to face conversations with these people in years. Yet, every day there is conversation via technology. If they see each other outside in the yard, they each look the other way as if they were complete strangers. Never mind that they have been typing back and forth to each other for hours this month. Strange, don't you think?

In fact, the other day my children were sitting in the family room texting back and forth with the neighbors. The snowball man rolled up on our court like he does every Monday that it is above 55 degrees. (Mostly because just between 2 houses on our court he'll get 8 kids.) When my husband heard the music playing, he told the kids. "Snowball man is here!" But they wouldn't go outside because the neighbors (whom they were texting at that moment) were going to be going out and they were uncomfortable. Very weird.

Texting and Facebook allow our children to be very "social" without being "social." They have the nerve to say all sorts of things to a computer screen. But apparently are incapable of looking into human eyes and stringing words together. I am learning as a parent about this situation. I can't imagine what conversations will become in the future. Sometimes it's really important to have to look into someone's face when you say things. You need to see how your words affected them.

On my Facebook I have some 300 odd "friends." Now very honestly, if I saw anyone of these individuals somewhere I would be very happy to chat with them. Obviously, I do not have direct personal contact with everyone but those that are there are all acquaintances that I have a pleasant memory of or current relationship with. Nothing shady here. Yet I can look at these teens Facebook pages that can have up to 1,000 "friends." But am learning that they really wouldn't ever interact with them face to face.

Facebook has been used as a place where feelings and emotions, events and times, even your physical location are posted in a status out there for your "friend" world to see all day every day. Yet these teens wouldn't even so much as glance into the direction of some of their "friends" without feeling like they were complete freaks overflowing with embarrassment.

It's bad enough that texting, emailing and posting can very easily be misconstrued and interpreted completely differently than the sender ever intended. It's hard to really convey TONE in Times Roman phrases, without capitalization or punctuation and riddled with acronyms. There have been times that I have read something and thought - "Wow that was really rude!" But my kid will look at me and say, "What do you mean? She is joking." But how can you tell? According to my kids they do not need complete sentences, correct spelling, any proper grammar or punctuation to determine "how" someone is communicating to them.

So why do I teach my children to follow all of these grammar rules? Why did I bother to learn the SchoolHouse Grammar Rock songs as a kid? Remember songs like:

Interjections (Well!) show excitement (Oh!) or emotion (Hey!).
They're generally set apart from a sentence by an exclamation point,
Or by a comma when the feeling's not as strong.

So when you're happy (Hurray!) or sad (Aw!)
Or frightened (Eeeeeek!) or mad (Rats!)
Or excited (Wow!) or glad (Hey!)
An interjection starts a sentence right.

My reaction to all of this in teenage texting terms: "omg"

Could you feel my outrage? My teenagers would argue that they did...

To My Friends Who Live In My Computer

Homeschooling is hard. It was a rough choice. I know that I have basically given up my daytime freedom until they are grown and gone; to where ever it is that they will go. Imagine that. Imagine that the day you take your child to the bus stop for the first day of kindergarten doesn't ever happen. Imagine that every day of your life is consumed with nonstop interaction with your children year after year.

I have been homeschooling for 8 years now. Sometimes it really is hard to believe that it has been that long. Other days I don't know how I've survived or how much longer I can continue. Most days I don't go out during the day, other than to get the mail. I watch the neighborhood ladies come and go. They shop, golf, play tennis, lunch with friends, breakfast with friends, go to the gym, and exercise. I don't ever do those things. I also know moms that fill their days with cleaning, cooking and laundry. I don't do much of those things during the weekdays either. That is usually left for my evenings that I don't work, in between running carpools and time on weekends. It is like having the workload of a working mother - but if that mother took her kids to work with her while she did her job.

I don't really fit into any kind of social group because when am I supposed to forge those relationships? Relationships should take work, time and commitment. None of which I have a surplus of right now. I often think about how it could be. I think about how it will be when they are all finished homeschooling and away at college and high school. Sometimes I think about all of the things that I think I will do.

I have my days that I feel frustrated and overwhelmed but I don't think it is from the act of schooling the kids. I think it is more a testament to the amount of time that I am alone. Virtually none. Very rarely is there silence. Sometimes I think my brain just needs the quiet. To be still.

When I was growing up my mother would send her children off to school and her husband left the house for work before dawn. She had a full day to accomplish her chores or enrich her pleasures. My husband works from home in our basement and has for well over a decade now. I had my first baby 16 years ago. I have been home with my kids every day for 16 years. There was a time that I had a family of 6 home every day for all 3 meals. Even now I still have a family of four at home.

I started thinking today about needing to schedule appointments. I need to have a mammogram. I am well overdue and this isn't good. I have 2 crowns that I need to have done. I can feel the cracks in my teeth getting larger. The kitchen and bathroom rugs were practically falling apart the last time I laundered them and I'd really like to go looking for some new ones. I should go buy a bread machine to help offset some of this gluten free starvation that I am feeling lately too. The kids really could use some new jackets for the fall. I'd like to reorganize that linen closet that is chalked full upstairs and causing the wheels of the door to jump the tracks. I need to go pick out paint for the laundry room since the repair work was completed. The hot tub has been sitting idle since it's repairs because we are out of chemicals and to get them would be a 45 minute trip. I'd like to plant some bulbs and look at fall mums. I'd like to call an old friend that I haven't seen in forever to meet for lunch or coffee -- in fact there are dozens of people in my life that I miss terribly. It's funny how I am never alone. Yet can feel so lonely. I can't believe that my time away will have to be spent doing these tedious tasks rather than spending some time with a friend over coffee.

There were years that I tried to do things during the day. I've tried to do aerobics, dance lessons, art lessons for the kids, bible studies and field trips. But it is really hard to stay on a schedule and accomplish all that is necessary. I learned that I had to make schooling a priority and everything else has just sort of hovered in this holding pattern as if they are waiting for me to remember that they are out there. Trust me. I haven't forgotten.

I first began homeschooling by choice. I looked at it as an adventure. I've always taken it very seriously, knowing that at anytime should something happen to me, the kids would have to go to school. As the kids grew older, my patience grew thinner. They like to test their boundaries and I don't get the same respect that a teacher in school would. I guess it isn't so much respect as it is fear. They don't fear me like they would another teacher or adult. The older two went to school in 8th and 6th grades. It was hard to do. I wanted to be able to keep them home but I just didn't feel that that was their path.

They are now both in high school. The younger two are still home with me and have never been in a formal school setting of any kind. They are studying 5th and 7th grade this year. They work diligently for the most part. It is very time consuming trying to accomplish and check all of their subjects each day. But make no mistake if I leave to go anywhere, answer a phone call or take a shower - school work takes a backseat to just about anything! Overseeing can be the stressful part. They are kids. Imagine what would happen in school if a 5th grade class or a 7th grade class were left on their own without a teacher...it wouldn't be pretty would it? Same thing would happen here.

Like I said, when we first chose to homeschool it was for personal reasons that we were encouraged. But I definitely felt led by something to make that choice. It wasn't a decision that was made hastily or without much prayer. If anyone had asked me if I thought I'd still be doing it 8 years later - I'm not sure what my answer would be. We were flying by the seat of our pants.

Along our journey, some information surfaced that solidified our choice to homeschool. Without sharing too much personal information, all that I will tell you is that it no longer is a choice for me to continue. Discontinuing homeschooling would be a poor option. Homeschooling seems that it is a necessity for our family now. It is funny how that turn of events can play tricks with your mindset. Rather than thinking I have the freedom to return them to the school system whenever I'd like - I know I am in this for the long haul now. Sometimes that feels daunting. I can feel almost trapped. It's not that I don't want to homeschool. It's knowing I don't really have a choice.

While I know what I am doing for my children is essential and I do love them dearly, I have my days of feeling tired and overwhelmed as I am only human. I am grateful to Facebook for allowing me to interact with my "friends" when I haven't showered yet and it is 3pm, when I am teaching math for the 3rd time and running low on patience and when I look around my home to find that it is obvious that a bomb has gone off in my kitchen yet again. I am grateful for my blogging website that allows me to "think out loud" and have someone hear me. Thank you Facebook and Blogspot - and much love to all that have "friended" me and listen to me while I whine! You are more important to me than you realize.

Looking for Moments of Peace

I am always searching for my moment of peace.

I am always trying to create the atmosphere, the environment, the condition of peace. I am usually expecting those moments when there is a lull in our scheduled activities. Sundays. So on Fridays and Saturdays in between running to all of the games and rehearsals, I go to the grocery store and buy everyone's favorites. Rice pudding. Sliced roast beef and turkey for sandwiches. Candy caramel apples. This trip I even bought the ingredients to make POG - that delightful Hawaiian concoction that made our Maui vacation perfection a few years ago. I am preparing for a peaceful weekend. I finish all of the laundry in the house including all towels and rugs. Everyone's clothes are fresh and on hangers. I clean the house for hours. Floors are all mopped. Glass windexed. Counters cleaned. Furniture dusted. I'm ready for my moments of peace.

The next morning I get up and make Sunday breakfast. Scrambled eggs with Italian cheeses, sausage, bacon, sliced cantalope, and freshly made POG. Everyone showers and we are off to church. Home from a wonderful sermon and a time to greet individuals I hadn't seen in a bit. I am getting closer to my moments of peace. I change my clothes and Son #2 and I are off to the mall. He is in need of jeans as the temperatures have cooled and he has grown since the last time they were worn. We jump into the car and grab a coffee for the journey. I am thinking after this errand is finished, I'll have my moments of peace.

Upon arrival at the mall, we head to find the store of choice this trip. I am in need of new jeans myself as I haven't purchased new ones in a few years. My son goes into the dressing room, tries on a few pairs and he is finished. He patiently waits while I try on some jeans and try to configure what the sizing is in this particular store. He comes to my dressing room door, holds my coffee for me and tells me which pair he likes and which he doesn't. It was quite chivalrous. I am impressed with his maturity and the ease with which we are spending time. We head to buy him some new shoes and I tell him that I brought a gift card for The Cheesecake Factory.

I tucked the card in my purse before we left, thinking that I would create a cozy lunch and a share a slice of cheesecake with my teenage son and forge some bonding time. I assumed that shopping with me is torture for him and had planned to use the bribery of food to lessen the blow for him. This is part of my long awaited moments of peace for today. When we arrive at the restaurant, it is extremely crowded - more than 30 people waiting for tables. After inquiring they tell us the wait will be 30 minutes. I feel badly. My plan was ruined. No atmosphere. No special slice of cheesecake. The moments of peace have been thwarted. Perhaps I will find them at home. With that, we leave. We load the packages in the car and return home to eat leftovers from last nights dinner. I feel disappointed.

I head upstairs and change into my new cozy sweats that I bought on our shopping excursion. Ready for some reading time and eventually a good Redskins football game. I am planning an easy taco dinner tonight, nothing terribly difficult, after all, I'm still preparing for my moments of peace.

As I headed into the family room to sit with the family all gathered around the television on a Sunday afternoon I realize how important those moments of peace have become to me. But more importantly, I think about how much of my time is trying to orchestrate the perfect scenario - as if I was the puppetmaster preparing for the show.

I noticed I felt very calm. Very relaxed. I thought about my morning. How blessed I had been to attend a service and see welcoming faces even if it was just for a few moments each. I thought about that shopping excursion with my son. He is such an easy person to be around and I had moments of complete adoration for him...without cheesecake.

I looked around the house to decide what I will now do with my very carefully planned moments of peace that have finally arrived. I pick up the book I have been complaining that I don't have any time to read. No, that's not it. I go to the pantry and think about making the new gluten free cookies in there. No that's not it. Maybe I'll sit with the family and watch a little television. No that's not it either.

I realize that I don't need to arrange "moments of peace". I think I need to find the peace in all I do. And if I really think about it I had a multitude of moments just today alone...guess that's why I don't know what to do with my moments of peace now.

Happy 50th Honey!

Sometimes you just need a recap of the day.

Yesterday was my husband of nearly 18 years, 50th birthday. For the past 2 weeks I asked him repeatedly how he would like to celebrate. Never did I get an answer. I asked if he'd like to celebrate the weekend before or the weekend after. Not a peep. Finally on Labor Day evening I said, "Welp. I guess we aren't celebrating this weekend." He found this amusing.

The presents have been here in the closet for a long time. Now granted - they are not wrapped - but they are ready. My mother and father have been waiting for the green light for the celebration. (Mom's presents are even wrapped!) But the clock ticks and ticks and he doesn't say anything.

Now I did that whole surprise party thing for him when he turned 40 and I will admit at 40 it all seems very appropriate - but not so much at 50. I can't explain it. It's just different. He's more subdued...perhaps partied out. :)

So his birthday arrives. It is a Wednesday. Wednesdays are work nights for me so I am not here for dinner and a majority of the evening. Yesterday happened to be an especially difficult day as I had to take my 10 year old daughter to get an MRI at 2:00 pm. This meant I had to have both kids finished homeschooling by 1:00 pm. Not such an easy feat. I also packed my dance stuff with me in case I had to leave straight from the radiology lab to the dance studio.

Just before 12:00 when I am pretty much toast and running around like a chicken with my head cut off, he asks very quietly, "So what are we doing for my birthday dinner?" Now I've been with this man long enough to know what he is doing. He is just trying to torment me. I've never heard him say anything about a birthday before other than, "It's just another day." With that, I tell him he can have anything that he would like as I will be working and leaving the house shortly. After this, he informs me that he will be leaving to go to the MVA as his license expires that day. Hmm. He leaves and then proceeds to call me numerous times to tell me how many more people are still in line in front of him. You know - since he is bored, I must be too...

We head out the door for the MRI. Once we get there my daughter requests that I come in with her. After they tell her that it is going to be about 30 minutes, she doesn't want to be alone. So I strip myself of all of jewelry, sign the consent forms and stand next to that VERY loud machine for 30 minutes. I have to keep reminding myself not to lock my knees so that I don't pass out. Meanwhile my back is aching and I cannot stop yawning with deafening click. click. click. By the end of the procedure I actually found there were several beats and rhythms to the machine and would catch myself tapping my toes and fingers to it. Weird?

We leave the procedure and head home. I get home, change my clothes, put up my hair and leave. I called my daughter to tell her that she should get her father to get what he'd like for dinner and I would bring a cake home. I wrestled with this concept of a birthday cake. Mostly because I was being completely selfish. I was recently diagnosed with Celiac Disease and have been put on a Gluten Free diet for the rest of my life. Apparently according to the doctor I was on the road to lymphoma - so that's never a good thing. Anyhow - I've been trying to cope with the situation and the thought of having a big beautiful cake in the house felt like it would send me over the edge. Everytime I thought about the family gathering around this cake I wanted to cry. Yes, big pity party for me. And yes, I do realize how selfish I was being. I asked for forgiveness..

I finally decide that I will bring home an ice cream cake. That way we can all participate in the festivities. I run over to Food Lion after teaching. I dash over to the bakery section and pick up a cake out of the case. I look on the side and it says "CHOC/VAN". Perfect! Chocoalte and vanilla ice cream.

I sprint to the checkout only to be stopped by a fairly long line. The wonderful gentleman in front of me with about 12 things in his cart looked at me holding my cake behind him. He motioned for me to go ahead. I thanked him and told him that I was trying to get home to celebrate my husband's 50th birthday! I paid for the cake and as I turned to leave the gentleman says, "You have candles, right?" I laughed and assured him that I did.

I put the cake into the car and headed for home. As I pulled into the garage, I had a strange moment. I don't know how to explain it other than something felt confused. I looked down at that cake and was concerned that I had not picked up a "Carvel". At that moment, I picked up the cake to see what manufacturer of ice cream cake I had. Suddenly, I realized - I had gone to the refrigerated section NOT the frozen section and this was in NO way an ice cream cake.

Now panicked I spun the cake to it's side to read what the "CHOC/VAN" really meant. I had purchased a chocolate cake. I couldn't believe it. The whole thing felt surreal. Not only had I not bought the KIND of cake I went in for but I bought CHOCOLATE! My husband despises chocolate.

I walked into the kitchen with the cake in my hands. My husband comes across the kitchen with a delighted smile on his face. You could see that he was happy that I had brought it home. That's when I blurted out, "Don't get excited. It's not what you think. I really messed up!" I proceed to relay the same story to him.

I go into the pantry to get the candles so that we can sing. I scoured the shelves. Another moment of panic. No candles. That gentleman warned me...
So my husband says, "Okay, let's sing so we can cut it! Where are the candles?"
I say, "I don't have any. I'm sorry. I thought I did. I don't know what's happening." He looks at me shocked. "What? Are you serious?" So I try to make it better writing Happy 50th with some piping gel...

My 16 year old goes to the drawer and pulls out the butane lighter and holds it over the cake. He says, "Ok, I got this. Let's sing." My husband looks at me and says,
"So this is what it has become, huh? Chocolate cake, no candles and a butane lighter when you turn 50." I felt horrible.

We sang. My son clicked off the lighter. My husband cut the cake. A few minutes later everyone was crowded around me eating the cake. They were all smacking their lips and I felt terrible. Terrible that the cake was chocolate. Terrible there no candles. Terrible that I didn't get to have cake.

My husband tries to smooth things over and says, "The icing is really sweet. The cake is very moist." I'm thinking, "Give me a break. I didn't bake the thing." The next thing I know my 16 year old pulls a long hair out of the inside of the cake. The kids immediately start making jokes about the hairy, chocolate Food Lion cake that I brought for Dad's 50th birthday.

After my husband ate his chocolate, hairy cake - he comes over to give me a kiss and says, "You know if the situation had been reversed and this had been your birthday - this would have been a BIG problem, right?"

The most ironic thing about all of this is that I am the eternal party thrower. I can throw a mean party. I have done it for YEARS! I am known for my ability to celebrate an event. I have made AMAZING cakes! I have turned my home into the solar system, my backyard into a carnival - my porch into Africa. You name it - I've tackled that theme. Yet here we are on my husband's 50th, with the most disastrous of events.

It is at this time that I know I've got to make up for this. I post a status on Facebook with a brief synopsis of the event. A couple of friends reflect upon one of my earlier posts...

...yes, I am aware that to truly rectify this situation it is a "close and lock" evening.

"Now Don't Ask."

“Now don’t ask about spending the night.”

It never failed. I would be headed to spend some time with a friend and my mother would warn me. Yet every time I would ask, “Can she spend the night?” Not only did I ask – I asked in front of my friend and her mother. Naturally that left every one staring at my mother for the answer. If she did not “cave”, boy would I get yelled at going home. I did it to her so many times. She would get so angry.

Inevitably my children do this. We warn them about things yet they charge right into what we asked them not to do. It has to be one of my biggest pet peeves with parenting. I can’t tell you how many times I have said those same words to my kids, yet how many times they’ve called, begged or pleaded in front of the other parent and child. It never helps that the other parent is always the cheerful parent that will accommodate any obstacle that you may have. The problem is – I said no from the get go. My child knows that. My child is trying to manipulate me and the other parent is now aiding and abetting the situation.

Yesterday, Son #2 was having a bit of trouble in the morning getting ready for school. Little bit of failure to take care of his “chores” and little bit of failure to control his smart mouth. The end result was my husband told him he would not be attending wrestling practice after football practice. My son then proceeded to tell my husband that he was definitely going. Great way to start the day.

I walk into the house after work at nearly 9 pm , 14 hours since I last saw Son #2, to hear the story of how my husband went into the wrestling room and removed my son from practice after a mere 5 minutes. (My oldest son is more than happy to chime in on the story as he was not the one in trouble this time.) They tell me that directly after football – Son #2 went upstairs to the wrestling room for off season Mat Club after his father had specifically used that as a punishment. (Son #2 loves nothing more than being in a wrestling room. This punishment was definitely on target.) Son #1 becomes the informant and my husband now has to make the decision. Leave him or go get him.

That wrestling room is going to be full of champion wrestlers, coaches and dads. My husband is a local wrestling coach so he knows these people, which doesn’t help the matter. He is either going to go up there and haul his butt out and embarrass both himself and Son #2 or he is going to cave and let the teenager’s rebellion win. It is so uncomfortable. Why do they have to push things so far? My husband walks in – opens the door – points across the room at my son and with his deep coaching voice says, “Let’s go!”

Clearly, every one turns to look. It is quite an interruption. Not to mention, there is recognition. Conversation begins. Now at this point rather than announcing to everyone there that his son had a smart mouth and is being punished so that he doesn’t humiliate him – he starts tap dancing a bit. Explaining that his wife is working and he is on his own with the kids and he needs to get Son #2 and leave. Now I completely understand why he chose that path. He was trying to diffuse. But what ends up happening is that various offers from parents and wrestlers begin to swirl. So many people are willing to give him a ride home , so he should just let him stay. At this point, my husband looks at Son #2 and says, “It’s up to you.” Now Son #2 already knows he did something really wrong. He’d best make the correct decision now. Luckily, he did and followed my husband out of that wrestling room. I’ll admit he probably looked pretty foolish for the whole escapade – but my husband was further upset that he had been put in that situation. When people offered to help and give him a ride home, it just added fuel to the fire.

While it was very kind of those people to offer the ride, my husband was there to pick up his child and take him home. They weren’t aware of the whole story and they were just trying to be kind. My husband was taking Son #2 home to think about his disrespectful behavior but I’m sure that those in the wrestling room must have thought the whole exchange quite bizarre.

While that time my husband was able to escape without explanation, other times it doesn’t work out that way. You know, we try to be nice but sometimes we make choices that our children can’t do something. Sometimes it is a birthday party, sleepover, a day with a friend…whatever. Our answer is no. Sometimes it isn’t for punishment. Sometimes it is just because we want a break. Sometimes we just don’t want to be involved in that particular activity at that time and as adults we can make that choice. Sometimes we don’t feel comfortable with the other child or family. So we warn our children…don’t ask again – the answer is no.

But it never fails. The scenario is set. We have told our child that they cannot attend that birthday party because we already have other plans. When the RSVP is given to the hostess, the “bombardment of fixes” begins. We’ve all been there. The parent that is willing to work this out so that the child can come to the party. (Make no mistake your child was banking on that parent to do that too!) The line of questioning begins – “Why can’t they come?” “Well, what do you have going on?” “I can pick them up.” “I can bring them home.”

Now I shouldn’t have to have this conversation. The answer was no. We were polite. “I’m sorry we aren’t going to be able to make it. We have some other things going on that day. Hope you have a great party.” That adult standing there questioning me makes me uncomfortable. I did not say, “We are unable to make it because she doesn’t have a ride.” If it were something like that I would have explained what the dilemma was. However, when there is no specific explanation it would seem to me the best thing to do is respect that response and not begin badgering for more information. Each time the words, “Mind your own business” start racing through my head. I hold my tongue. “Thank you, I appreciate that but we are not able to make the party. Maybe another time.” But it still isn’t over.

Not only is that parent going to continue to hound me for an explanation of my situation and then provide me with a solution that ensures that my child will be at their function – my child is going to join forces now. “Mom, pleeeeeeeaaaaase.” I warned that child NOT to do this. Yet here we are. Guess who is left standing there diffusing this? I tried to be polite. I tried to handle this discreetly. But each time – we arrive at the same place.

Is this when I get to say, “I told them they had to clean their room and they never did.” Or “We’ve got a couple of football games that day and I don’t need anything else on the calendar.” Welp, if I do that – then I am suddenly in a discussion, a debate or a problem solving scenario. But you see, I don’t have a problem. I made the decision. I am the parent. The decision was no.

I have thrown numerous parties. Hosted countless play dates. Supervised a barrage of activities. However, when a parent declines an invitation I don't like to ask them why. I take the cue from them. If it is offered then a conversation may ensue. But I don’t find ways to finagle. I don’t know what is truly going on in their home. Maybe they have decided that they don’t like me and don’t want their child under my supervision. They are entitled to that opinion and I certainly don’t want to be told to my face. I am thankful for social graces.

I actually had an encounter with another parent years ago. I was hosting the party and they were calling to decline attendance. They offered up their reason for declining immediately and their answer hurt my feelings. Right or wrong - it was how I felt. While I respected their choice, their reason and scenario made me feel badly. Sometimes less information is better.

Just food for thought: I don’t think we are going to change the behavior of the children. This scenario seems to be standing the test of time from generation to generation. Perhaps the best approach needs to come from the adults. We need to make sure that we are on the same team and avoid joining forces with the whining child. Maybe we could turn it into an unspoken understanding between parents.

“I’m sorry, we can’t do a sleepover tonight.”
“Is that your Final Answer?”
“That is my Final Answer.”

School Should Start After Labor Day...PERIOD!!!

I’m probably going to be very unpopular with this piece. I realize that much of what is interjected here is opinion and I obviously understand that there are two sides to everything. I’ve been observing things for a long time and this is simply the conclusion that I’ve drawn.

Everyone is in such a hurry. I’d just like to know where we are all going.

I don’t think that I have talked to one parent that likes how early school starts. Seriously. Every soul that I have spoken to has commented that they miss the days of going back to school after Labor Day. So it made me wonder…who decides that this is a good idea?

But then it just opens up a whole can of worms. Who decides that football needs to start in July? Or that Lacrosse starts in February? Why do extracurricular activities have to consume all of life? Why do camps and organized activities have to monopolize our summers? Why do our children have to be in 2 year old preschool? Who decided full day kindergarten was a good thing? Before school care – after school care. It never ends.

Somewhere along the line – getting ahead became more important than family time and being a kid. And we allowed it to happen. We as parents, played right into it. God forbid someone get a head start on our child - for anything. Keeping up with the Jones’ took on a whole new connotation the past decade or so. It’s not about lawnmowers or cars anymore – it’s about our kids. We’ve sacrificed our families in our efforts to keep up with what everyone else’s child is doing. Perhaps the phrase “No child left behind” was misunderstood. Rather than summer being a time for families to take a break from the rat race, summers are being used as a time to gain momentum on those we fear are ahead. It’s complicated. From our nation worrying that another country goes to school year round all the way down to mothers spending the night in parking lots the night before preschool registrations. We start our kids on soccer teams at 4 years old and begin grooming them for that college scholarship immediately. Thank God we have summertime to tutor our children, get them performance athletic personal trainers and attend a variety of indulgent, competitive camps and activities to make sure that they are keeping up with whoever it is that we are keeping up with…

It began innocently enough. There was a time that men worked and women stayed home with the children. You lived a lifestyle based on what the husband was able to provide. As times changed and women became more independent, dual income families emerged. Again, innocent enough. Women were just looking for equal status to men. Wanting the same opportunities to excel in their interests and employment. Obviously, there was a minor issue that women are the ones who have to physically carry and give birth to the babies…but companies have managed to deal with maternity leave and such.

But from that moment things became different. With dual income families, no one is home with their primary focus each day being JUST the children. I’m not saying that working mothers don’t focus on their children. I am saying that it isn’t their only focus for which they are responsible. Children are lumped into the house, jobs and all of the other things that parents have to be responsible for. It became a very careful house of cards that parents were building with their teeth while spinning plates with each hand and each foot. I can feel the difference in myself. When I was not working outside of my home, my kids were my only concern each day. Now that I have been working for the past 6 years, I understand what it means to split my focus. It is physically impossible for me to make them my only priority when I am responsible for a job. With two working parents, it has become more conducive to our society to start kindergarten earlier, then make it a full day, then preschool was critical at 4 years old, then 3, now 2…

While this type of lifestyle has enabled better financial situations, upped the quality of life for many families and sometimes necessarily so, it has changed the society that we are raising our children in immensely. Without the parents (whether they be male or female) home to make the children their only priority and responsibility for the day, our society has developed answers and substitutes to allow everyone to be able to do it all. We like to get defensive and argumentative that we can do it all and say that whether you are a stay at home mother or not, it does not impact the quality of life that you are giving your child. We find ways to make ourselves feel less guilty that we are working late or picking them up from a sitter. Often these ways are not healthy to all parties involved. But with passing years, it becomes a vicious cycle of sorts.


I remember summertime as a kid. I was a dancer and a cheerleader but it didn’t envelope my entire summer. I may have attended a week-long camp during the summer but it was for something fun and carefree. Mostly I played and hung out with friends and family. We went sight-seeing, picnicking, lots of swimming, trips to the beach, vacations, spent weeks with my grandparents, slept in, stayed up late, watched The Price is Right, had sleepovers with girlfriends, backyard badminton, went fresh peach picking in the orchards, sailing on the Chesapeake, spent days on the pier crabbing and hours picking the crabs we caught. We played cards and board games into the late night, renting movies and listening to music on the stereo. There were spur of the moment activities to go to a park for the day or take a drive. That is not how summers go in my home as an adult as much as I want them to.

This summer was gone in a flash. School gets out later every year. This year schools were closed on June 16th. My daughter’s dance recital was the 12th of June and 9 days later the “ballet summer intensive” was beginning on the 21st. Son #3 attended a Wyldlife summer camp from his youth group that meets year round, also beginning on the 21st of June. So we haven’t even made it to the end of June and two of my kids have already been to a summer camp!

Shockingly, the first week that my family was all home together with activities halted for a summer break was June 28th through July 4th! My third son’s birthday is July 5th so that brought some busy times for that week. We left on vacation the following Saturday on July 10th and returned on July 17th for a quick celebration with my mother in law for her 80th birthday. On July 19th I began the doctor’s appointments for the two oldest boys to get their sports physicals for school. Also that week, the two high school boys attended football camp at their school. It was not required but they were looking to make some friends and meet their coaches as “newbies” to the high school team. Since we had allowed each of our children to attend one camp, this was their one camp to attend. The good news, if there was any at all, was we were killing two birds with one stone so to speak.

The week of July 26th thru July 31st was spent school shopping, ordering books for high school as well as books for homeschooling, and purchasing uniforms while Son #3 began the Green Hornets football tryout procedure during the evenings. Also during that week in between all of the scheduled activities, we celebrated my eldest son’s 16th birthday.

The first two weeks of August were spent with our family split. With my daughter and I in New York City while she attended a ballet program at American Ballet Theater , my husband spent his evenings back and forth to the football field while Son #3 progressed through football tryouts and practices every night for our local recreational team. On August 10th, the actual football season for my high schoolers began with two -a-day practices until school starts. Practices were 6 days a week from 7-11 am in the morning and then again 4-8pm…every day except Sunday.

My daughter and I returned from New York on Friday evening to the Nutcracker auditions beginning that weekend as well as a good friends’ baby shower. We have now arrived at the week of August 16th – August 22nd. Each day was consumed with all 3 boys going to football practice. Additionally, the classes at my dance studio where I teach and my daughter studies, began for the new year on Monday the 16th. This was our last week of summer before school.

In fact, the last weekend before school started went something like this:

Friday August 20th:
8:30 am – 12:00 – Freshman orientation
11:00am – 12:00 – All other student orientation
2:00pm – 5:00pm – High School football practice
6:00pm – 8:00pm - Dance Competition Team Meeting/Son #3's Football practice/Back to School picnic and fireworks

Saturday, August 21st:
7:30am – 3:00pm - High school boys football practice and scrimmage
3:00pm – 6:00pm – High school boys football team family pool party

Sunday, August 22nd:
9:30am – 11:00 am – Church
1:00pm – 3:00pm – Nutcracker auditions
3:00pm – 6:00 pm – Son #3’s football scrimmage

On Monday, August 23rd was the first day of school! And there went the Summer of 2010 for our family.

Society has “upped the anty” for our families in a way that is nearly impossible to keep up with. Yet we are constantly bombarded with the “importance of family time”. I could tell you a dozen other things that our family was unable to participate in that would have also marked the calendars. From weekly Bible studies, to monthly book clubs – the commitment just couldn’t be made. The calendar that you just read – had been watered down greatly from the other opportunities that had presented themselves to us that we chose to eliminate.

At the beginning of the summer, I had told my kids that I had hoped to make a drive out to Ocean City for a day trip each week. I truly wanted that to happen. I was so upbeat and optimistic. We did it once. Too many other commitments kept us tied up. Now part of our problem is that we have a large family and once you allow each child to participate in one special thing – your calendar is full. But another problem is the extent to which we have taken to indulging our children.

Now here we are, into the second week of school. Football games already under our belt. Nutcracker rehearsals filling the Fridays and Saturdays on the calendar. Am I supposed to tell my boys that they can’t play football anymore or my daughter that she can’t dance anymore because it has all taken on a life of its own? I guess I’m just asking for our society as a whole to reevaluate and put things into proper perspective again. I think most parents want more family time, don’t they? Maybe I’m alone, swimming upstream again.

I was looking forward to Labor Day weekend to take a break. How sad is that? I need a break and we just started last week. However, we were informed by our boys that there will be football practices and games over the holiday weekend and that if we had made family plans then they needed to find someone to stay with to attend practice. Is it all really that critical?

Fast food and overly filled calendars are going to be the death of our families. I have prayed for years for ways to simplify. Participating in activities doesn’t need to consume our children’s lives and take over our families. These things should enhance our children’s character and create lifetime memories for them. Every child isn’t going to be a star…it’s not about getting to the top – it’s just part of their journey.

How does going to school prior to Labor Day help the moral fabric of our lives? It doesn’t. Okay so there is a law that says 180 days of school are required - but is the only way to achieve it by starting two weeks early? I understand that for working parents, earlier start dates are helpful. Working parents don’t have to find somewhere for their child to be and they will pay less childcare when kids are in school. But there has to be another way. I think it’s time to go back to a simpler time.

Families come in all shapes and sizes now. Two parents. Single parent. Dual income. Single income. One child. Seven children. There is no "ideal" picture of what a family should be. But all children need time off. Time to rest, to play to enjoy the only time in their lives to be carefree. All children need time with their families. And for what it is worth - all parents need time with their children, for they will be gone in a blink of an eye and that time is gone to never return. What if school started after Labor Day again? What if sports were played during their season only? What if clubs and activities weren't so competitive? What if we didn't try to have it all and do it all? What if we made choices and decided we had priorities? The current generations are growing up with what I call "entitled" attitudes. The generation that thinks they deserve everything. They see that Mom and Dad want it all - why shouldn't they? Sometimes you have to make choices - otherwise how do you know what is really most important? What if we just decided as parents in this age and time to slow things down a little? To appreciate what we have and enjoy the time we've been given.

Elbert Hubbard said, “No matter what you’ve done for yourself or for humanity, if you can’t look back on having given love and attention to your own family, what have you really accomplished?” Don’t mistake constantly shuffling your kids around to a zillion places as love and attention. Just because you sign your kids up for everything they want to do and manage to work out a way to get them to all of it doesn’t mean it is the right thing for families. Just because we “can” doesn’t mean we “should.” Kids always think simply. Adults have made it complicated.

What is your plan?

So my oldest has entered his junior year of high school. This is a big year. Not only is he an upperclassman now but with that the timing of his high school career is beginning to point in the college bound direction rather quickly now.

From the beginning of his attending high school we discussed his plan and what he was thinking about long term. I can't say that there was anything concrete about his plans. He's talked of the Robotics and engineering field and also flipped back to journalism, as he is a writer like myself. He has changed his mind about college, majors and career paths several times. But at the age of 14 that is to be expected.

But now he is 16. I recently received an email from the guidance counselor at his school. It was sent to the parents of all juniors and seniors. It referenced SATs, college fairs, college visits, open houses and scholarships. As I read this email, it was hard to believe that we were talking about my son. I felt a bit fuzzy. I tried to focus but had trouble grasping that these were issues that my son needed to address. Those carefree childhood days were fading into his past as the world was asking him to grow up and press onward.

I briefly commented to him that these things were hanging out there and that this year would be the year that we needed to look into college visits, applications and that he should participate in some practice SAT testing. He looked at me and this guy who usually carries himself with teenage self-assurance appeared lost. In the softest of voices, he spoke. "Mom, I don't want to leave home yet. I'm not ready to leave home yet. I can't imagine that it is time for me to do that. How can I make any decisions about this? How am I supposed to make decisions like this now?" I felt badly for him. I thought, "Boy, do I remember that feeling well..."

I was a junior in high school myself as my guidance counselor, Mr. Chambers, called me into his office to meet with him. He was a wonderful man. Such a good heart. He had looked out for me during my high school years and he was now ready to guide me into my college days. I'll never forget the conversation.

Mr. Chambers: "What plans have you made for college?"

Me: "Um. None."

Mr. Chambers: "Well, what do you think you would like to major in?"

Me: "I haven't really considered it."

Mr. Chambers: "What do you love to do? What are your interests? Where do you see yourself in ten years?"

Me: "I really want to be a mom. I want to have a big family."

Mr. Chambers: "Well that is not something we can really help you with. How about if we think more short term...like what do you think you'll do until you find a husband?"

Me: "I don't know what I should do."

Mr. Chambers: "What about dance? You're very active in dance. Or English? You are a wonderful writer. Perhaps you could just consider a Liberal Arts school."

Me: "I will think about everything you said."

I went home and I sent away for information to University of Maryland, Rutgers, Hofstra, Towson State, Goucher, Shenandoah Conservatory among others. I thought long and hard about decisions that I knew I had to make. My friends were choosing schools far away. They all seemed like they knew exactly what they wanted out of life and what they wanted to be. The only thing I felt that way about was being a Mom. Did I love dance? Sure! But I didn't consider a professional career in dance. Did I love to write? Absolutely! But I couldn't imagine writing everyday about something that I wasn't passionate about or even under a pressing deadline.

So here I am literally 25 years later helping my son face the same set of circumstances. It seems impossible to expect a 16 year old to have an idea about how they would like to spend the rest of their life. Because in essence that is what we are asking of our teens isn't it? Are we saying, "How do you think you would like to get up and go to work everyday to pay your bills and whomever you have chosen or created to be a part of the family that you will provide for the next 50 years of your life." How many 16 year olds jump up and shout, "OOOh! I know! I know! Ask me!"

So I hear myself asking the same questions as Mr. Chambers. "Well, let's think about your interests. Your strengths. Your hobbies. What do you want out of your life?" These are huge concepts. Especially when if truth be told, the kid can't remember to take out the garbage, bring up his laundry or make his bed without being reminded numerous times. I feel bad for him actually. I wouldn't want to relive that time of my life again. I remember feeling like the world was on my shoulders.

The other day a friend from my past posted a status on Facebook. She was in nursing school and doing very well. She and I worked together at a law firm back in the day when that was our first real job in the world. Twenty something years later, she finally knew what she wanted to do. I think that is more common than not. My mother has been joking for 40 years that when she grows up she wants to be Linda Ronstadt. Seriously, it can take a lifetime to know what you want to do with your lifetime.

How many of us end up doing something that we were truly passionate about? Something that we chose at the age of 16 that we would embrace and spend a lifetime pursuing? From my vantage point - not too many. Most times we somehow end up down a path that seemed the easiest or most convenient at the time. The school that was the closest. Chosen the class that we did well in without putting forth much effort. My husband was a Finance major in college. Upon graduation, he went into sales. He is turning 50 this week and guess who is still in sales? There was no career in Finance. He learned that he could make money quickly and in a decent quantity to provide for a family in sales. He has had a wonderfully successful career and I am thankful for the man and provider that he has been - but when he was 16, he surely didn't think - "I can't wait to sell computer software to the government! I know that is what I am meant to do!"

Yet 30 years later, this is his life. His career. There is no turning back now. He talks to the kids about finding your passion. Something that means something to you. Owning your own business. Being able to live a lifestyle that is important to you or providing for a family that you may be given one day. But they don't get that. Not at 16. Who does?

I have talked with my boys about my own choices in life. I did get married and have a large family very young. It was wonderful that that worked out for me. My friends were getting their Masters degrees and moving across the country, exploring new jobs and meeting new people during the decade that I was giving birth to four children. I had moments that I felt I was a failure in comparison to their accomplishments. But it was my path. It wasn't until I was 35 that things that had been my passions were able to become paid jobs for me. I have been able to study ballet and receive my teaching certifications and begin writing for a magazine but not until 20 years after I had to "choose a direction", gave birth to 4 children,and was a stay at home homeschooling mother for so many years.

My step daughter is also a great example of what happens in real life. She attended community college for 2 years. She really had no idea what she wanted to do with her life. Eventually she was accepted to Salisbury for her junior year of college. She began to get fantastic grades as she decided she wanted to get into the business school. She was accepted into the business school and had her first job lined up working for a government contractor with a high starting salary before she had even graduated. But when she was 16, she was directionless...clueless. In fact, I'm not even sure that she cared. Funny, she has been working at this job for a little over a year and calls to tell her father and I how unhappy she is with this job and is already ready to move on. At the age of 24 she is still trying to figure out what she wants to do. Because that is the natural progression of things. It is an evolution of sorts.

So while I know that my teens are expected to make choices right now, I try to counsel them that we are all on our own paths. We don't know what tomorrow will bring. I understand that asking them to fully comprehend their lives in this magnitude is impossible. I remind them to keep their minds open and do the very best that they can do in school to at least provide them with a foundation for the next step. I don't need declarations of Ivy League schools, sports scholarships, or even a life plan of any sort. I need them to go with their hearts. I need them to dig deep and strive hard and know that they can do anything they put their minds to. But most importantly, I want them to know that none of it is for me, or their father, we've created our lives and chosen our own paths and it is time for them to do the same. I want them to wake up with a sense of purpose each day and I want their lifelong happiness.

O.K., Ok, Okay, K

I want the term "okay" in all of it's forms banished from the English language.

I seriously believe that one day my head is going to completely explode with the use of that word. When I end up having a stroke and they rush me to the hospital and they ask, "What happened?", more than likely it will be that I stroked over the response "okay" from one of my teenagers.

Now you are probably thinking - okay is a positive term. A means of agreement. If your teens are using it, it must be in compliance with something you've said or asked. Guess what? It's not! That is not the way "okay" comes out of their mouths.

Here are a few examples of what I am talking about:

Mom: "Your teacher posted that you didn't turn in your homework."
Teen: "Okay, Mom."
Problem: No! It's not "okay". What kind of answer is that? It is at this moment that my teen needs to explain what happened. Saying okay means nothing. Tell me why you didn't turn in your homework!

Mom: "The dog needs to go out right now."
Teen: Walking away from me says, "Okay."
Problem: No! It's not "okay". Take the dog out! If you are turning and walking away from me - explain why...don't just walk away. Tell me you are getting your shoes. Tell me you will after you go to the bathroom. Tell me something besides "okay" as you walk away. I guarantee an hour from now you won't be back and the dog will be sitting at the door with his legs crossed!

Mom: "You need to take your laundry upstairs please."
Teen" "K"
Problem: It's not "okay". Teen is sitting on the couch watching television. Teen will sit there until 5 minutes before they have to leave for school then in a mad rush to get things together will explain why they don't have time to take the laundry upstairs. "K" has been used as a means to trick Mom into thinking they are willing to do the chore. Teen has no intention of doing the chore. "Okay" means "I heard you" and that is about it.

Mom: While disciplining her teen says, "You are being very disrespectful."
Teen: Before Mom has even completed her sentence says, "Okay."
Mom: Shouting, "It is NOT OKAY!"
Teen: "Okay."
Mom: "When I am talking to you don't talk over me. And stop saying "OKAY"!
Teen: Teen looks at Mom completely confused like she is having a moment of insanity and says, "Oooookkkkkay????"
Problem: Mom has to remind herself that if she kills her teen she will go to jail for a long time.

So teens use the term "okay" as a way of acknowledging that they are listening to you but don't really care about what you are saying. Saying "okay" is actually saying, "whatever", "shut-up", "you are on my nerves.", "just leave me alone", "go away", or "I'm not really listening to you." The list goes on.

Let's examine the tone that "okay" is usually voiced. Is it upbeat? No. In agreement? Of course not. That positively cute little word is cloaked in spite, annoyance, disrespect, intolerance, impatience or complete ambivalence. In fact, if that word could - it would roll it's eyes at you when it rolled off your teen's tongue. There are moments I am sure that that word has flipped me off as it has been said.

"Okay" is used by teens as a means to try to control your conversation with your teen as a parent. They are trying to diffuse any confrontation, correction, question, command, or request you are making of them. They just want you to go away. They don't want to hear what advice you may have. They are not interested in your insight. They certainly don't want to hear any words spoken about something unacceptable that they have done. So they say okay. It is a weasel word.

I want "okay" replaced with terms like "yes ma'am", "yes sir", "I'll take care of it", "right away", "you got it", "I'm on it", "no problem", "happy to help", or "sure"!

I did some research trying to find out the original intention of this term. Who came up with it? What did it actually derive from? Interestingly, though there are dozens of unproven theories, no one really knows. One idea is in the American Choctaw Indian language, there is a word okeh, which means "it is so". If you are interested in learning about the numerous theories, http://www.miketodd.net/encyc/okay.htm is a great link to get brief synopses of several thoughts.

Since, in truth, there doesn't seem to be a conclusive idea to explain the origin of this term for me, I think I am going to categorize "OKAY" as just another forbidden four letter word in my home. It may be the only way to ensure that we all survive teenagehood.

How Can You Listen to That Garbage?

Nowhere is the generation gap more evident than in music.

The other day my brother sent me a “note” on Facebook to list your favorite 15 albums in 15 minutes. This prompted me to think about music that I love and realize a few things about myself.

I refuse to feel old because I don’t enjoy much of today’s music targeted at teens. Make fun of me all that you like. It has nothing to do with my age…

…does it?

Growing up music was a big deal in my house. My mother didn’t watch much television but she loved her stereo. Music was always playing. My parents had a great album collection. I even recall my mother giving me her collection of 45’s when I was very young. I danced around my room to songs like “Bony Maronie” and “Venus”. They bought me my own record player (nothing fancy) when I was very young and I loved the oldies as much as I loved the current stuff. I played their albums and had an appreciation for music of all eras. I remember loving the Motown sound and the Beach Boys. Heck, I even grew to love Gladys Knight and the Pips and the Fifth Dimension. I spun those vinyl discs for hours.

Eventually I was old enough to start my own record collection. By the age of 10, that was serious business to me. I remember making my birthday lists with my favorite new albums that I would like to have with the hopes that I would get a few from friends and family. I saved my babysitting money to buy my music as well. There was an awesome record store at the intersection of Route 4 and 301. It was in the shopping center with the Dart Drug, A&P and Trak Auto. I would browse that shop trying to decide what would be the new edition to my collection. Eventually, the album collection became a cassette collection for my car once I was driving.

My mother liked most of the new music back then. She wasn’t wrapped up in her oldies. She was opened minded to whatever was new on the horizon. I remember she had a great stereo in her Buick Regal. She would crank it up. We listened to music together. Donna Summer and My Sharona frequented our home stereo. I remember Mom loving the song “Le Freak” when it came out and we grooved together. Mom always sang the “FREAK OUT” part! Somehow generations apart, we met each other on the same plane during that song.

Now my dad was a bit different. He liked what he liked and we weren’t going to convince him to come around to much of the new stuff. He would pick me up late from the dance studio for years. He would wait in the parking lot in his Chevy truck. I would get in and it was always the same. Talk Radio or the oldies channel. Now I didn’t mind it because I had grown up listening to their music and had developed an appreciation for it but he was never interested in the new stuff out on the radio. I remember begging him to listen to Casey Kasem’s Top 40 countdown on car rides to my grandparents. It wasn’t going to happen. He would say, “When you’re driving, you can listen to what you want.” It was your typical musical generation gap.

Through the years, I have continued to indulge my passion for music. I have changed with the times. My Ipod is a plethora of music showing that I can conform to just about anything that the music industry wants to deem “the next greatest thing”. On my Ipod you’ll find a multitude of options - disco, Motown, AC/DC, Frank Sinatra, ELO, Maroon 5, Kenny Chesney, U2, Dave Matthews Band, Guns N Roses, The Fray, Shinedown, Patsy Cline, and Lady Gaga…you’ll even find the Theme to Welcome Back Kotter followed by Toby Keith. I’m all over the map. Definitely not a music snob.

So obviously my kids were raised in a home that has music on for a majority of the time. Again, when they are little they listen to the music that you like. My oldest son loved the group “America” when he was little. It played on our CD player a lot. To this day if “Horse With No Name” comes on, my 16 year old is singing all of those lyrics – as bizarre as they are. I remember keeping up with the music the kids liked. We invested in those “NOW” cds when they were in preschool and lower elementary school. I remember when we bought NOW 4 – the other day they advertised NOW 33! How could that be? But I guess that just proves how much music changes and how much it influences our culture. Especially the culture of our youth. When I was making that list of albums it was funny how most of the music was from a time of growing up. For all of the fads that have come and gone – the music that stuck with me was that of my youth. It got me thinking…

My kids have Ipods. For the most part they download and sync their own interests. They definitely have a great deal of “my” music on their Ipods. They have Michael Jackson and a lot of my classic rock. They know the words to most of those songs. It still makes me laugh when my teenagers start singing, “Ain’t No Woman Like the One I Got…” but now, in the next breath I hear “The Old Me’s Dead and Gone…and they break into some fast rap interlude. Their tolerance for my music is lessening as teenagers. I was naïve enough to think that it wouldn’t. I really believed that “my” music was so great that they would always appreciate the talent because clearly the music of today’s teens clearly shows a lack of talent and will never stand the test of time. Not like MY music. The famous last words of every generation of parents.

When we drive in the car now, they want to touch my stereo settings. You know what I mean; they want to change the radio station. They are trying to control my music. I’m not loving this so much. I miss the days when I would put on Ricky Martin’s Livin La Vida Loca and they would bop around the car and sing. We all used to like the same music. I remember that brief period of time when we had finally graduated from all of those children’s music tapes during car trips when I didn’t have “Do Your Ears Hang Low Do They Wobble To and Fro” played over and over and over. There was a brief, yet wonderful point when they liked what I liked on the radio. Apparently that ship has sailed.

Car riding becomes an argument over musical selections. Especially if we ride in our SUV. We’ve got satellite radio in that. Once I found the 70’s on 7 and 80’s on 8 channels, oh baby I was all over it! They used to like me turning that music up – but apparently I am only allowed to do that now if there is someone with numbers or initials in their name blabbering out some sort of attempted rhyme with a heavy bass thumping through some remix remake. (I was horrified to learn that Eminem had done a remix called “Sing for the Moment”. That’s right! You heard me – he’s rapping to the background of Aerosmith’s Dream On. What the heck? Of course that song is going to do well on the charts – he’s taken a HUGE hit that has stood the test of time and rambled on over top of it about whatever his latest anger issues are – but clearly everyone only hears Steven Tyler’s genius coming through.) I try to be open minded and listen but once that loud chanting starts - I just can't take it. I will turn it off everytime and put on something I like.

Suddenly, I hear those words coming from my mouth. “Don’t touch the station. When you are driving your car, you can put on what you like. When I am driving – we listen to what I want to listen to.” But now I can add something my father couldn’t. “Listen to your IPod.”

…yikes. Did I really just say that? After all of these years of taking pride in the fact that I roll with the times and that I can be as hip as the next teenager, I blurted out the words that my father used to say when I thought he was an old fuddy duddy. I realized that my playing that 70’s station and belting out Robert Palmer’s “Bad Case of Loving You” while seeing glimpses of myself at the roller rink on a Friday night – is really no different than those nights I got in that Chevy truck and dad was singing the Four Tops “Bernadette” and feeling like it would take forever to get home.

Thank goodness that technology has advanced with the times of music. Occasionally there are times when my stereo is playing in the family room with my IPod selections. My eldest son’s stereo is thumping in the basement with his latest annoying download. Son #2’s laptop is cranking out his favorite Alternative Rock jam. My daughter is at the family computer in our living room on ITunes dancing to Enrique Iglesias’ “I Like It” with its racing dance club intended beat. I find myself shouting, “Turn it down!” While I get the typical response. “What?” “I can’t hear you!” “Why are you yelling at me?” It is at that point that I am grateful to John C. Koss and Martin Lange for introducing the concept of listening to music through head phones in 1958. Hmm. 1958. This was not too long after the teenage discovery of Rock N’ Roll and American Bandstand in 1956. I don’t think this was a coincidence.

But ultimately this leads us into another parent/teen battle. Driving in the car while the kids sit behind us listening to their IPods. My husband turns to me and says, “I can’t take it. I can hear their music through their headphones over MY radio. Tell them to turn it down. How can you stand that? Don’t you hear that buzzing sound? That’s ridiculous. It’s WAY too loud.” I smile at him…take his hand in mine…look out my passenger window and sing “BBBBBBB Bennie and the Jetsssss…”

…It’s only a matter of time before our kids are grown and become the next generation of parents. I’m sure they will invent something to take care of that problem. What comes around goes around.

-- Hey Dad! Guess what? - Sirius XM Satellite 70s on 7 plays Casey Kasem's Top 40 Countdown on Saturdays at Noon - 3 pm ET and 9 pm - Midnight ET and Sundays 9 am ET - Noon ET, and Mondays Midnight - 3 am ET! It's all good now!