Parenting Choices...so hard to make...

Teen parents disagree on child-rearing

I know that P. doesn't always jump right into my zany ideas. We're going on a year of deciding to homeschool. He thought extended breastfeeding was odd, but understood the benefits. When it came to co-sleeping, P. was actually the one to suggest it and I had to research the safety of it before I agreed.

I know Christian parents married to their Jewish partners have a struggle...Chanukah? Christmas? Even within the Christian community, there can be fundamental differences that led to parenting strife.

But...
Crips vs. Ballers?

It's like a whole other world to me. I wonder at anyone that has this as the primary concern for the well-being of their toddler.

I'm just thunderstruck. Even providing for myself at age 18yo, I had at least had enough of a headstart to have a high school diploma, to be attending college. Yes, I feel like my college loans will stay with me just as long as any initiation scar or gang tat...but damn I was lucky. And here's a second generation...maybe third...beginning all over again.

I wonder if the two parents felt like some sort of Romeo and Juliet. Now reality has set in and they have to decide, "Yo- what colors do we decorate the nursery? Her gangs or mines?"

It jsut kind of makes me step back. I know I have problems but at least...I know I have problems. As as such, I can take the steps to keep moving forward. I can get help, education, loving community support.

Where people in these situations likely join a gang because they feel even less like they belong than I do. They need the protection for self preservation, for the lower levels of Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs. I can see how fortunate I am to be in the upper half of that particular pyramid. If I don't keep my struggle to keep climbing up, that slope is steep, footing can be lost and the slide down can begin.


Quoting the article in case it goes into the net netherworlds:

Should Our 4-Year-Old Child Be a Crip or a Baller?


A 19-year-old father was arrested for disorderly conduct, harassment, and domestic violence after an altercation with his girlfriend over which gang their four-year-old toddler should join.

Joseph Manzanares, a member of the Westside Ballers, walked into the Hollywood Video store where his Crip girlfriend worked, threatening to kill her and vandalizing the store. The police were called and the father was later arrested at his home.

"They have different ideas on how the baby should be raised. Basically, she said they cannot agree on which gang the baby would 'claim,'" Commerce City Police Sgt Joe Sandoval said. Manzanares pleaded guilty and was sentenced to a year of probation.

Seasonal Life

I know, how can you not compare life to seasons? The summer of youth, the winter of old age. It's been done so many times and here comes another comparison.

I always enjoy walking C. to school. Ok, the day it was 6 degrees out, not so much. But we get to watch the world around us gradually change. When school started, we watched the blooms gradually turn to apples and pears. Then the fruit dropped off and disintegrated into the ground. During winter of course, there was nothing happening except the cold nipping at our noses and ears.

Always though, there's the prattle of the kids. J. mainly shouts out things like "Moon!" "Burr!" (bird) and so on. On the way back, she'll have me go over the numbers on the mailboxes over and over. It's like she's trying to solve the mystery her big brother has the key to. C. will talk about whatever comes to his mind. Today it was life cycles. He mainly concentrated on what ate what. So I talked to him about how we're omnivores, look at us with our plant crushing teeth in the back and our scissor-like meat cutting teeth in the front. C. gasped at the pure simplicity of that, as though it was amazing that our bodies are built specific ways to do specific things, even our teeth. Well, it is, but as we get older we tend to forget. We talked about cows being herbivores and all of their teeth are flat crushers. The carnivore shark has only sharp teeth for ripping. I just loved seeing his wonder as we talked over these concepts and a little more of the world made sense. Right now, he knows only joy really. According to his teachers maybe too much, he's so happy he has a hard time reigning it in; his Sunday school teacher loves it. His regular teacher enjoys it too, but I can tell it's more wearing.

So while I see the 'seasons of life' aren't affecting him yet, something he said got me to thinking about how we see life in seasons. Right now I will stick with winter and spring.

Walking along this winter, there were only the crows really. Their ca-caws weren't frequent, but when they did sound out, it can be jarring and unpleasant. Even their glossy black feathers look foreboding in the spare landscape of winter. Now that spring is blooming into the world around us, the songs of birds fill the air. I don't know about you, but I forget those sounds are missing until they come back. There's still the occasional bossy crow, but also so many joyful birds to balance it out.

Life is like that. When you are feeling bare and empty, the only thing you remember is the grating sound of the crows. Suddenly, your entire life seems bad. It's all you can remember. At least, that's the way it is for me. I know it is for other people. It can happen personally (it's all about me, I am awful), or with a relationship (it's all about us, we are awful together). I suppose even projected on a particular person. Of course, the truth is, nothing is ever all bad. Just when you are feeling winter, it sure feels like it. One book that is often recommended for those of us living in a winter state of mind is Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy. The author helps you recognize your thinking habits and attitudes and how to gradually change them.

When you get to that point, with or without the book, you suddenly hear what we heard this morning on the walk to school. The singing of many different songs. Sometimes it all blends into the background, sometimes one twitter stands out more than the other. When you hear the annoying ca-caw, it is just part of the entire picture, instead of taking it over. And maybe, if you're lucky like me, you can also listen to the prattle of a little voice talking about birds eating worms and some animals eat leaves and fruit and vegetables and...

And you hold that small hand tighter, smile to yourself and tune out all songs but that one.

Just a Ring

Those little circles hold so much symbolism. Round and round to eternity for one. What type you pick tells something about who you are. How important they are, when you wear them, when you take them off.

The story of my wedding ring. We shopped around for one we could afford in college. I wanted a plain gold band. P. wanted a heart shaped diamond. He got his way. We found a nice little .25 carat heart that P. kept talking about upgrading eventually but I wanted to keep. After all, it was 'the ring' we got married with, anything else was just show. So he began talking showy anniversary bands.

At one point, while playing soccer at a local park with some friends, the diamond fell out. It was replaced since it was still under warranty, but still, it changed the feel of 'my ring'. Sometime in '98 I became aware of conflict diamonds and nixed Pete's window shopping for a new band. No new diamonds, make them some other stone or antiques.

Early in June '06, the diamond fell out again. I was informed this happens frequently in heart shaped diamonds. So we began shopping again, sending links back and forth trying to find a balance between P.'s desire to show how much he loved me by the size of the ring and my desire to be socially conscious (oh and it didn't help I learned there were issues with gold mining too- why did that surprise me?)

Given our problems in the fall that we are trying to work through now, I feel that maybe the diamond falling out and the subsequent inability to agree on a ring was a sign. P. assured me it wasn't.

But in the meantime, after reaching my personal precipice and jumping over it (as read in my St. George entry), I had purchased a posey ring with money I earned sewing. It was custom made with the words: Moment by Moment. I wanted a reminder that I could survive anything moment by moment. The sentiment has been a blessing to me given all that has happened. Even more so when a talk with my pastor revealed that there is a scripture that basically says you let Jesus in moment by moment. It's not a once and forever thing, you have to keep open to Him. The same with forgiveness. You don't forgive once, you forgive every moment you make the choice to do so.

I wore that ring on my right, my left hand feeling empty. Eventually, Pete asked me to wear something on my left hand and I picked a tiny anniversary band I hadn't worn in years. On our anniversary, he sent me a temporary replacement ring he ordered online.

Today, he sent a link to a new diamond band. Ready to renew our relationship, he actually picked something conflict free. It's a blend of the two of us and the sentiment is very much appreciated. So that's what's got me thinking about the symbolism of rings. How in the beginning, my preferences weren't listened to, and now, they are. It also is making me think of a phrase I have been seeing a lot lately. You can't unring a bell. There are things you have done that can't be undone. The reverberations stay with you for years, sometimes for always. While marriages can be broken, they can't be unrung. They follow you in some form always. I suppose that's why we are trying to get it right even now, even after all that has happened. The bell ringing the sound of our marriage? Maybe we can make it into music rather than a jarring reminder of flaws.

Non-Ironic Snow

Today was pretty much a good day. As we prepared to go to church, the kids and I were thrilled to see big fluffy flakes of snow falling. We went to church, it's always good to connect with the community. C. and J. love their Sunday school classes, so I get to sit and enjoy the sermon with no worries about fussing kids. Second hour was canceled just in case the snow got too bad. I was disappointed at first but then thought I needed to look at the silver lining. I had enjoyed these past weeks of getting to know the small group of parents that were thoughtful, outgoing and friendly. But I also remembered we had things we had planned to try to fit into the day and with the time free, it was all the better to do our errands leisurely.

So, after church we went to the book store to pick up a book I had special ordered for P's birthday (I hope he likes it). We relaxed with hot drinks and cookies then the kids explored the kid section. C. picked out a Magic School Bus book about penguins and J. found a book with her current obsession, Finding Nemo. We left the bookstore and went to get C's hair cut (short, he said, like Daddy!). J. had a real problem seeing C. get his hair cut, she cried even as he smiled and laughed. She morosely picked up his shorn hair and showed it to others.

Then we went home and I shoveled the driveway and sidewalk while the kids played. I figured the snow was still falling, but I wasn't going to be caught with inches of ice and snow like last time. Think ahead I tell you! I am rewarded by looking out the window and seeing clear driveway and walkways for us. While I was tossing snow to the side, I thought about how I love to take care of my family and how, if it was just me things like this wouldn't matter, it was their safety that mattered. And, unlike last time, I had peace with every toss of the shovel. Last time, hacking through the ice, I just kept thinking of someone who is trying to hurt my family. This time, I knew that isn't possible. That person has no power, and even if that wasn't true, Mama Bears don't back down.

Right now, I am watching the kids get in the last of their play before bedtime (oh, we are cutting it close). C. flashes his winning grin and J. mimics everything he does. Yes, we have power. The power of joy, love, peace, faith. We've been missing the ingredients we needed, but it's all coming back to us. As C. wrote on my church schedule: God is good. We love Him, He loves us.

So I finish the day, relaxed (thanks Sis- for the meals you left, it meant I didn't have a meal to worry about today). The house is cleaned, we've implemented a new system and C. is really stepping up a bit while Daddy is gone. I made it through a very rough week of emotions and just got stronger instead of weaker (again, thanks Sis- it was nothing less than divine timing for you to be there right when I needed you most!) I think back to the sight of everything around me blanketed in snow and for the first time this season there doesn't seem to be anything ironic or bittersweet about it. It is what it is, a beautiful creation that has to be looked at the right way to appreciate. If you look at the roads, all you'll think about is the obstacles. If you look at everything else, you'll see things like fun, joy, peace, quietness, reflection...even ugly covered by beautiful in some instances. I like having my non-ironic snow back.

Walking through the gentle autumn day, so many sensations float past me. I'm infused with a sense of happiness for the moment. As I lift my daughter to my shoulders, it hits me again that I am the grownup. My time of the heady joy of someone sweeping you along, higher than the world on their shoulders is long past. Instead of regretting that it didn't happen often enough, I smiled at the thought of carrying my children high so they could reach for the clouds.

As I turn the corner, the acrid sent of burning leaves fills my nostrils. I'm reminded of an assignment from my 9th grade English teacher, Mrs. Evans. One of the options was to describe newly mown grass. I chose the simpler task of describing the state I had lived in the longest until then, California. But now, I understand. I'm still not sure how I would describe freshly mown grass, but I would describe the smouldering smell of the leaves as chances gone. The smell of burning leaves still swirling through my senses, another familiar smell pushed its way in. The smell of fresh laundry, hot in the dryer. The smell of promise and futures. Preparing for the days ahead with crisp clothes, comforting to all of your senses.

The sharp smell of the leaves, while not unpleasant, served its purpose. It made me appreciate the clean smell of laundry all the more. The two smells swirled about for awhile, then disappeared. The memories stay for much longer though.

what i am doing right

With all my negativity lately, I thought maybe I should think about the good things.

I have been allowing myself more creative outlets. Writing more, even if most of it is for this blog.

I have been keeping the house orderly, although every surface could use a good wipedown.

I'm accomplishing more and making less excuses for what I don't do. I allow myself lazy time without guilt.

I am recognizing in my head (if not my heart) that I deserve to be loved. That I deserve time to myself. That I deserve to be an individual.

I am letting go of some resentments, some slower than others, but still, it's an accomplishment.

I am going out and doing things of my own accord; over the years, moreso in the past two, I have made myself a shut-in off and on. Doing things that don't have to be done is a big step.

I suppose, what is most hard to hold onto, is looking forward to a better future than my past (I have always lived under the assumption that things would get worse- woah- I'm a pessimist- who knew!) Even though the past is hard, there is the chance of a brighter future as long as I don't let anyone, especially myself, stand in the way.

saying goodbye

One more post for the day (on a roll, huh?)

Recently I left a group I have been in for years. I got to the point that seeing interactions/non-interactions was a negative experience to me. Let me emphasize: to me. It's all about my perception and what I could handle. Individually, they are fantastic women. Even as a group, just wonderful. But the particular dynamics weren't something I could handle in my life at this point.

I didn't want to leave in a huff of drama, like I have seen others leave email loops. The melodramatic good-bye posts are often really a ploy to get others to beg them to stay. So I just quietly left, figuring nobody would notice/comment for awhile.

What was there to say? No matter how I say it, it would seem like an accusation. Ya'll aren't meeting my needs at this point and I would like to move on instead of trying to live in the past and recapture the golden years. But that reads wrong, since (as the old break-up line says) its not you (all), it's me. It's my lack of the social ins and outs that other women seem to have. It's my fear of asking for help while intensily longing to have very close connections. I don't expect anybody else to meet my needs as I often don't even know what my needs are.

I just wanted to leave while leaving was a strength for me. While I was doing it for the right reasons, to decrease the negative feelings I have. The only problem, is because I have seperated myself so quietly, and I already have a habit of not reaching out, I fear that I have cut myself out of their lives completely rather than just this aspect of it. And par for the course, I don't know how to fix it.

outside my window

I've been to the ocean before. Played in the waves as a child; fought them as an adolescent. I've contemplated them as an adult. Even when I'm not there, in times of stress I can bring myself back to a place that never ends but always changes.

But perhaps I was always so focused on the waves that I never noticed her moods. Now from my window I can watch the daily- sometimes hourly chages of the sea. Many days she's a brilliant blue. A worthy jewel for any necklace. But there are times when she withdraws into herself, bringing out the grays. Perhaps my absolute favorite time is when she blends with the sky. I can't tell where one ends and the other begins. It creates in me such an odd sense of wonder. And the realization that there are just some things in life that cannot be answered.