Red Van Ramblings

I've been a mother for almost 14 years now, but, honestly, when I see 103.6 on a thermometer, I freak out a little.

Sunday afternoon while we were still on our weekend getaway to my mother-in-law's, Jacob started complaining of a headache.  Sunday night, actually Monday morning, around 2 am, he comes in our room and says he can't get back to sleep. 

Well, no wonder, kid, your head is on FIRE!! 

Seriously, I was waiting for him to spontaneously combust at any given moment!

Then the intestinal distress began.

Poor kid.  There wasn't a whole lot of sleeping going on.

So he stayed home from school yesterday. 

He had that weak-eyed look.  That pitiful look that makes you just want to scoop him up and hold him all day like you did when he was 3 (4, 5, 6 and 7) with his dreaded ear infections. 

We kept the fluids going and alternated the Tylenol and the Ibuprofen. And then there was our friend Immodium for the intestinal distress.

Thank goodness for modern over-the-counter medication, I always say.  Even though his temp is back to normal and there doesn't seem to be any intestinal distress this morning, he's getting an extra recuperation day. 

Sometimes you just need an extra day.

And it all makes me think of a song...for your listening enjoyment, here is I've Got the Fever by Billy Scott and the Georgia Prophets, from 1968:

 

 

"I like a teacher who gives you something to take home to think about besides homework."  ~Lily Tomlin as "Edith Ann"

Someone please tell me there is more to life than homework.  OY!  My son spends nearly 8 hours at school and then comes home and works on homework for 2 hours.  There is something seriously wrong with that.  Wait, I feel a song coming on...

...we don't need no education...we don't need no thought control...no dark sarcasm in the classroom...teacher leave those kids alone... 

The government and the public education system has sucked all the fun out of learning and instead, replaced that with No Child Left Behind and meeting standards and needing to meet their quota of kids scoring "proficient" on the most recent round of standardized torture, er, I mean, tests.  All of which leaves no room for fun.  We're too busy making sure those kids can pass those standardized end of year tests, by golly!  No fun for them, no siree.  No inspired learning.  No creativity allowed.  Disclaimer:  I am not bashing teachers...it isn't their fault.  They are doing what they are mandated to do and they have the hardest jobs in the world.  They have been more than wonderful in our educational journey with Jacob. 

Just let me have my rant, okay?

Both my kids hate going to school. 

And frankly, I don't blame them. 

But I would never say that to them.

In other non-ranty type news...Can you say "Road Trip"?!  Jacob and I spent a fun weekend in North Carolina visiting with my family.  Emma had a very-important-could-not-be-missed birthday sleepover to attend and so she and Hubby stayed home and had some father-daughter time...after she got home from her sleepover, that is.  And that allowed Jacob and I to have a nice mother-son road trip.  First road trip for The Edge, I might add. 

He sat in the front passenger seat like the half grown person that he is.  I looked over there at him and realized how much he is growing up.  Here's what he spent most of the trip doing---> 

Yeah.  Gameboy.  He did read some and watched a movie.  But he does enjoy his gameboy.  It was quality time, nonetheless.  We chatted a bit.  Nothing too serious, but it was precious just to be with him.

I also spent time with my younger brother, Scott, and his family (who were down from Delaware) and my older brother John and his family.  If you have been reading a while, you'll recall that Scott and his wife, Lisa, had a baby girl, Olivia, back in May.  She is quite adorable and what a set of lungs that girl has!  Woo!  Such a Cutie!  I spent time with my mom and both my grandmas as well.  We spent Saturday at the park enjoying a music and art shindig, put on by Scott's friends, Mike (musician) and Sarah Blair (artist) who are brother and sister, and both extremely talented young folks. Scott (pictured) is also a musician, the worship pastor at his church, and I don't get to listen to him play very often.  It was a very enjoyable day.  Sunday was spent at church, where my brother John is the pastor.  It was a treat to hear him share and then have lunch at his house with our whole family (minus my dad, unfortunately, who was out of town and Hubby and Emma).  It is a good thing to be within driving distance of my people. 

Yeah, spending time with my people definitely balances out the crazy homework.

You can learn a lot of things doing your family's laundry. 

For example, Lego men do NOT melt in the dryer.

You can also learn about what candy the teacher currently has in the prize box.  Although it is sometimes hard to identify post wash/dry.

Note to self:  Check kids' pockets more thoroughly BEFORE washing and drying.

I've tried.  I really have.

But I just can't seem to get inside his head. 

I have tried to imagine the physical pain that certain sounds bring to his sensitive ears.  I have tried to understand how he processes things.  But I just can't.  It isn't for lack of desire or lack of trying.

I believe it.  I know it's true.  I know he suffers as a result, but I can't feel it.  I can't feel it and therefore, cannot understand how to fix it. 

Herein lies my problem:

Inside of me there is this NEED.  This undeniable need--to FIX things.  Now I don't mean fix things as in "fix the busted microwave".  I mean, fix the boo-boos in my children's lives--be they emotional or physical.  I have decided this is an inherited trait.  And I'd like to blame it on my daddy.  He's an innate "fixer" as well.  He doesn't deny this.  And now, I guess, neither do I.  I guess by fixing things it makes me feel like I am doing a good job and being a good mom.  And being a good mom means I love my kids.  It validates who I am--the thing I love most about my life--being a mother. 

Here's how this is a problem: 

Inevitably, there are things--boo-boos, if you will--that are not fixable and maybe they don't need fixing.  I have said on many occasions that I do not in any way believe that my son is "broken".  He doesn't need "fixing".  I believe that God created him as the masterpiece that he is.  I think I want to fix things so that he can walk through his life and feel proud of who he is, just as he is.  Fix it so there is such a huge influx of kids who want to be his friend that we can't possibly accommodate all the friendship that is offered.  Fix it so that his life is not so hard for him to navigate. Fix it so that I can alleviate the constant frustration he feels with everyday tasks that seem mundane to many of us. Fix it so that he sees his amazing gifts, abilities and potential.

So, I, in my own power, can't fix it.  I CAN'T FIX IT.  What does that mean about me?  I find that my inability to fix these things causes me to doubt my abilities as a mother.  Then I start to get sucked into the "vortex of negativity."  It begins to stir up lies in my mind like, "I'm not good enough, because if I were, I'd be able to make this boo-boo okay."  Cause that's my job as a mom, isn't it? 

Or is it?

Here's the kicker:

By telling myself that I'm not good enough, am I not doing the same thing to myself that I want my son to STOP doing to himself?  Devaluing myself.  Beating myself up.  Telling myself that I am less than who I really am. 

Maybe I should go think about how I can fix that.  Maybe not. 

I think a big part of being a mom is knowing when to fix stuff and when to let it ride.  It is a very fine line and often so hard to identify one situation from the other.  I ask the Lord every day to give me the wisdom I need to know the difference. 

This mothering business isn't for the faint of heart.  But then again, neither is just being a human being walking around in this crazy crazy world!

"Birthdays are good for you.  Statistics show that the people who have the most live the longest."  ~Larry Lorenzoni