WordSisters

Category: Parenting

  • The Dead Cat is Out of the Freezer

    IMG_0493Seasons change, and so it is time.

    We have a small window to perform our ceremony – in between the comings and goings of teenagers.

    A line forms and we sing “Amazing Grace” while walking to the burial place in the corner of the yard. Our daughter and her friend dug the hole earlier. To make sure it was big enough they placed Trouble the dog in the hole but he quickly jumped out.

    Seasons have changed for the children as well. A Cub Scout is now a Boy Scout who will be doing his Eagle project on Saturday. A small girl, who was always the first to jump into the swimming pool, is still the first to try most things in our house.

    Our procession takes us underneath the flowering crabapple. The sweet scent follows. I lay down the paper bag holding our beloved.

    There is a discussion about whether to bury Angel in the shirt that he is wrapped in. I kneel, gently cover his black and white face with the fabric so dirt won’t fall into his eyes. My stomach constricts. I straighten. Jody hands the girl the shovel.

    There was a day when the children were ten months old that I thought they would be that age forever. I could not see past that day to this one. Parenting was hard work. Parenting was demanding. It still is, but in a different way. Now I need to stay attuned to who they are, what they are doing. I can’t be any less present. Because I need to be there if only to say, I see you. I am watching you. Give me your phone.

    After our ceremony, as they are rushing off, I pull down the branches of the apple tree and smell the white flowers that within days will fall off the branches.

    I want to shout to the children’s departing backs that I’ll never give up. No matter how hard parenting may become, I’ll never give up.

    Angel our cat is gone. He had a good life. I have a good life. And, you are worth it.

     

  • “Is there anything about me in here?”

    “Is there anything about me in here?”

    Crystel
    Crystel

    “Is there anything about me in here?” Crystel said with a hint of despair in her voice.

    “Yes,” I answered. “There’s a sentence. Keep reading.”

    She was skimming my recent blog about our 3-legged cat.

    “This story is mostly about Antonio,” I added.

    “Grrrrrr,” she responded.

    I laughed. “Do you want the next blog to be all about you?”

    “Yes,” she said emphatically.

    Writers often worry about writing about their kids online. Using them for fodder when crafting a story. Much is written about the ethical implications of mothers writing about their kids and the online privacy of children. Mothers don’t want to betray their children.

    I’ve had a different experience with Antonio and Crystel, both now thirteen years old. My children want to be seen, noticed, and heard. They want to be important enough to be blog material. They would feel betrayed if I didn’t include them in my writing life.

    Crystel helping me with squad maintenance checks.
    Crystel helping me with squad maintenance checks.

    From time to time, I get squeamish blogging about my children. Not because of what my kids might think but what other writers might. Mothers should protect their children, not exploit them for media attention. Sometimes, I feel tempted to add an aside to blogs and tell the reader that my children have read and approved of the story and photos. I don’t do that. Another voice emerges in my head, a much louder voice. That it’s my business what I write and readers have a choice whether or not to read my material. I won’t be silenced as I was when I was a child.

    If the blog is about them, Antonio and Crystel know the contents before I even start drafting the blog.  Before it’s published they’ve read the article and seen the photos. They might ask me to change a line or to take a sentence out or to use a different photo. Most often the blog is published as is with their approval.

    There are benefits to having a mother who will blog about you. Last week, Crystel was finishing a class project for her Language Arts class – a 3 panel brochure – that needed to include pictures of herself when she asked, “Do you have any photos of me?”

    In the trunk of squad cars there are stuffed animals for children. Crystel is picking one of her monster dolls to add for a give-away.
    In the trunk of squad cars there are stuffed animals for children. Crystel is picking one of her monster dolls to add for a give-away.

    Antonio answered her, “Just Google yourself. I put a picture of me and my birth mom Rosa on mine.” He looked at me and explained. “That was the most recent picture I could find online.”

    Crystel was positively gleeful. “You’re right.”

    Crystel’s desire to be a part of my writing life isn’t limited to the WordSisters blog.

    She visualizes herself sitting next to me signing copies of House of Fire, my yet to be published manuscript.

    House of Fire shows that thirty years of breaking free from a cycle of silence and betrayal was not enough to prepare me for the trials of starting my own healthy family.

    Jody and I have worked hard to create a home of love, safety, and joy where no one gets silenced.

    Crystel’s been practicing her autograph. I’ll be so proud to have her next to me. Both of us will be seen, noticed, and heard.

    Her only complaint about this blog – “It doesn’t have enough pizaaz.”

    Well, next time kid.

  • The Written iPhone Contract Is For Me – Not the Kids

    FullSizeRenderAntonio and Crystel started asking for an iPhone when they entered middle school. Having a flip phone was not cool.

    Jody and I made a deal with them. If they would get on the A/B honor roll for the entire school year they could have an iPhone.

    This verbal contract didn’t alleviate my job as a parent in knowing what their grades were. Facebook became second to SchoolView where I would check their grades and learn of any missing work.

    An M for missing homework was totally unacceptable. I let them know that an M meant that MOM would come to their classroom and sit next to them. I made good on that promise on three occasions during the school year for both middle-schoolers. I totally enjoyed the experience.

    It was amazing to me how Antonio and Crystel would skate a B- seemingly oblivious to the fact that it could drop to a C+ at any time.

    I mean, an iPhone was on the hook here.

    For three quarters both made the A/B honor roll by a slim margin.

    Mid-May, I was concerned that they might not make it the last quarter.

    FullSizeRender (3)That’s when I realized that the iPhone contract was for me. Would a C+ end up being acceptable? Would we get them an iPhone anyway?

    At this point, I wrote the verbal contract and had them sign it. I had to make it clear to myself that there would be no iPhone if they missed the honor roll.

    After receiving the grades in the mail, I wrote another contract.

    The first rule: I need to receive A’s and B’s in seventh grade to keep my iPhone. Any quarter that I don’t make the A/B honor roll I will lose my iPhone privileges until I am back on the honor roll.

    I anticipate an M or two and am envisioning sitting next to two seventh graders at some point during the coming school year. The threat of that is even better than a contract.

    And, just in case, we’ve kept the flip phones.