Christine C. Schaefer....
1) ...can feel it coming on like a slow-moving storm.
2) ...wants to sleep.
3) ...is wearing her 'minimum wage' attire.
4) ...wonders where her iPod is.
5) ...can't seem to get anything done.
6) ...thinks she should check the flashlight for batteries.
Friday, December 11, 2009
Parenting Sucks or I Suck at Parenting...Take Your Pick
Raising a Difficult Child, Chapter 648
All we do is fight--about school, clothes, chores, money. My child seems to hate me because I want him to get on the bus on time, wear clean clothes and bathe, do his homework and care whether or not the answers are right or wrong. He's absolutely hateful to me because I want him to be a responsible well-adjusted citizen of the world.
I kept him up until 12:45 finishing and correcting Math, while he pretended not to remember a single math rule: how to divide fractions and decimals, how to average, how to find the circumference of a circle. Finally we finished and I sent him to bed, only to have to drag him--almost literally--out of bed to get on the bus five hours later. I know you think I'm exaggerating here, but I'm not. I use threats, counting down, and a squirt bottle to get him (and his older brother) out of bed in the morning.
And then the battle starts again--the fight to get him to wear something other than what he wore yesterday, to eat something--ANYTHING, take his medicine, brush his teeth, comb his hair and get out to the bus on time. "No, you're NOT taking your DS to school and not those cards either! Do you have your homework?? Do you need lunch money???" We start out every morning fighting over basic preparedness for the day. It's discouraging. It's more than discouraging. It's a horrible way to start every day.
************************
So he made it into the Geography Bee. Somebody else told me this--not him. I eventually read it in the school newsletter.... I thought to myself, I'll go see him. I'll see him in the Geography Bee. I made plans to take time off work and be there. I'll support him and show him that in spite of all the fighting, arguing and anger, I do love him--very, very much.
Well, I missed it. The school newsletter said it was today. It was yesterday. I missed it.
All we do is fight--about school, clothes, chores, money. My child seems to hate me because I want him to get on the bus on time, wear clean clothes and bathe, do his homework and care whether or not the answers are right or wrong. He's absolutely hateful to me because I want him to be a responsible well-adjusted citizen of the world.
I kept him up until 12:45 finishing and correcting Math, while he pretended not to remember a single math rule: how to divide fractions and decimals, how to average, how to find the circumference of a circle. Finally we finished and I sent him to bed, only to have to drag him--almost literally--out of bed to get on the bus five hours later. I know you think I'm exaggerating here, but I'm not. I use threats, counting down, and a squirt bottle to get him (and his older brother) out of bed in the morning.
And then the battle starts again--the fight to get him to wear something other than what he wore yesterday, to eat something--ANYTHING, take his medicine, brush his teeth, comb his hair and get out to the bus on time. "No, you're NOT taking your DS to school and not those cards either! Do you have your homework?? Do you need lunch money???" We start out every morning fighting over basic preparedness for the day. It's discouraging. It's more than discouraging. It's a horrible way to start every day.
************************
So he made it into the Geography Bee. Somebody else told me this--not him. I eventually read it in the school newsletter.... I thought to myself, I'll go see him. I'll see him in the Geography Bee. I made plans to take time off work and be there. I'll support him and show him that in spite of all the fighting, arguing and anger, I do love him--very, very much.
Well, I missed it. The school newsletter said it was today. It was yesterday. I missed it.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Glee
Do you watch Glee?
It's one of my guilty pleasures these days. It's a little soap opera of a show built around a school show choir. The characters are pretty stock, although not always predictable--the athletes, the cheerleaders, the drama kids, the gay kid, the black girl, etc., etc., but over the past few months, I've gotten to know and love them (and/or enjoy watching them because WHO in their right might could 'love' Sue or Terri?). It works pretty hard to be both politically correct and edgy--the multi-cultural cast, and then some of the things they say to each other. My RAR (Responsible Adult Reaction) to its depiction of high school, the irresponsible teachers, the glib attitude towards sex/drugs would be a parents' nightmare, but...it's been really fun to watch. I LOL all the time. And I think it's gotten better over the run of the first season. The acting has gotten better, the drama has increased. A lot of my DramaTeens watch it so it's a fun connection between us, and I love sitting down to watch it on FaceBook with all the musical theatre people out there. I think what I enjoy the most about it, however, is the absolute joy the cast seems to get out of performing the numerous show choir numbers interspersed throughout the hour-long program. Their song choices have been eclectic and wonderful, ranging from 70s and 80s rock songs to Broadway, to ballads, to even a little C&W. I downloaded the CD from iTunes and have thoroughly enjoyed singing along with the songs I know, and learning the ones I didn't. I know the show is a hit in my corner of the world, and I hope it's a hit everywhere....
So...last night was the season finale. The show choir went to Sectionals, up against the Deaf School and a reform school for girls. On the surface, this doesn't seem like real stiff competition, but that bitch Sue leaked their set list, so the other schools did all the songs OUR show choir had planned to sing. True to form, however, New Directions (the name of their choir) pulled a trick out of their pocket and agreed to allow their 'star' (Rachel) to sing, pretty much solo, while they did some rudimentary choreography. They handed her the sheet music in the green room; she looked at it and said, "I've been preparing for this since I was four years old." They took the stage, more or less without rehearsing and she belted out "Don't Rain on My Parade".
I spent the entire number alternately jumping up and down and wiping tears from my eyes. Although I'm not known as a singer (no comments from the peanut gallery please), I--like Rachel in the show--spent many, many growing up hours re-enacting scenes, dancing and belting out Barbra songs--including this one--in the refuge of my basement bedroom. I have a composite CD in my car called "Chris's Joy Music" that contains this song about marching forth, and refusing to take no for an answer, about getting what you want and hanging on to happiness. Everyone should have a 'Joy Music' CD to pop in when the going gets especially tough. And of course, I thought of her--my auntie, Betsy, who died several years ago after a three-year battle with ALS. She was the consummate Barbra fan, who so revered Streisand that she named her first child after one of her songs ("Jennie-Rebecca"). My aunt, who was such a role model in my life, a guiding force, an encourager, and the model of how to walk through this world--would have loved "Glee". Sappy soap opera that it is, I can totally see her sitting down every Wednesday night, logging on to FaceBook with the rest of the Gleeks, watching it and loving it. She'd have hated Sue and loved Mr. Shuester, cried over 'the gay kid' and 'the wheel chair kid' and sung right along with--if not ALL the songs--then at least the showtunes. My auntie, who sent me my one and only telegram on the opening night of my high school musical, who used to call me on Saturday mornings during a showtune program on her local public radio station, who introduced me to books (Narnia and Lord of the Rings), and music (folk, Broadway, and classical), and shared love and wisdom with me until she no longer could. Aunt, I miss you and think of you often. The world is a little colder for want of the warmth you gave. And, because I know you're watching, I hope there's Hulu in heaven.
It's one of my guilty pleasures these days. It's a little soap opera of a show built around a school show choir. The characters are pretty stock, although not always predictable--the athletes, the cheerleaders, the drama kids, the gay kid, the black girl, etc., etc., but over the past few months, I've gotten to know and love them (and/or enjoy watching them because WHO in their right might could 'love' Sue or Terri?). It works pretty hard to be both politically correct and edgy--the multi-cultural cast, and then some of the things they say to each other. My RAR (Responsible Adult Reaction) to its depiction of high school, the irresponsible teachers, the glib attitude towards sex/drugs would be a parents' nightmare, but...it's been really fun to watch. I LOL all the time. And I think it's gotten better over the run of the first season. The acting has gotten better, the drama has increased. A lot of my DramaTeens watch it so it's a fun connection between us, and I love sitting down to watch it on FaceBook with all the musical theatre people out there. I think what I enjoy the most about it, however, is the absolute joy the cast seems to get out of performing the numerous show choir numbers interspersed throughout the hour-long program. Their song choices have been eclectic and wonderful, ranging from 70s and 80s rock songs to Broadway, to ballads, to even a little C&W. I downloaded the CD from iTunes and have thoroughly enjoyed singing along with the songs I know, and learning the ones I didn't. I know the show is a hit in my corner of the world, and I hope it's a hit everywhere....
So...last night was the season finale. The show choir went to Sectionals, up against the Deaf School and a reform school for girls. On the surface, this doesn't seem like real stiff competition, but that bitch Sue leaked their set list, so the other schools did all the songs OUR show choir had planned to sing. True to form, however, New Directions (the name of their choir) pulled a trick out of their pocket and agreed to allow their 'star' (Rachel) to sing, pretty much solo, while they did some rudimentary choreography. They handed her the sheet music in the green room; she looked at it and said, "I've been preparing for this since I was four years old." They took the stage, more or less without rehearsing and she belted out "Don't Rain on My Parade".
I spent the entire number alternately jumping up and down and wiping tears from my eyes. Although I'm not known as a singer (no comments from the peanut gallery please), I--like Rachel in the show--spent many, many growing up hours re-enacting scenes, dancing and belting out Barbra songs--including this one--in the refuge of my basement bedroom. I have a composite CD in my car called "Chris's Joy Music" that contains this song about marching forth, and refusing to take no for an answer, about getting what you want and hanging on to happiness. Everyone should have a 'Joy Music' CD to pop in when the going gets especially tough. And of course, I thought of her--my auntie, Betsy, who died several years ago after a three-year battle with ALS. She was the consummate Barbra fan, who so revered Streisand that she named her first child after one of her songs ("Jennie-Rebecca"). My aunt, who was such a role model in my life, a guiding force, an encourager, and the model of how to walk through this world--would have loved "Glee". Sappy soap opera that it is, I can totally see her sitting down every Wednesday night, logging on to FaceBook with the rest of the Gleeks, watching it and loving it. She'd have hated Sue and loved Mr. Shuester, cried over 'the gay kid' and 'the wheel chair kid' and sung right along with--if not ALL the songs--then at least the showtunes. My auntie, who sent me my one and only telegram on the opening night of my high school musical, who used to call me on Saturday mornings during a showtune program on her local public radio station, who introduced me to books (Narnia and Lord of the Rings), and music (folk, Broadway, and classical), and shared love and wisdom with me until she no longer could. Aunt, I miss you and think of you often. The world is a little colder for want of the warmth you gave. And, because I know you're watching, I hope there's Hulu in heaven.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Could We Start Again Please
I've been living to see you.
Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this.
This was unexpected,
What do I do now?
Could we start again please?
I've been very hopeful, so far.
Now for the first time, I think we're going wrong.
Hurry up and tell me,
This is just a dream.
Oh could we start again please?
---Andrew Lloyd Webber
Dying to see you, but it shouldn't be like this.
This was unexpected,
What do I do now?
Could we start again please?
I've been very hopeful, so far.
Now for the first time, I think we're going wrong.
Hurry up and tell me,
This is just a dream.
Oh could we start again please?
---Andrew Lloyd Webber
Monday, November 16, 2009
So....hard....
Sometimes, it's just so hard. So....hard. How do we do it? How do we keep moving through life? Especially when everything is so hard. It just seems like everyone wants so much from me...more than I can give. I have nothing left to give. I've already given it all away. I'm empty. I'm exhausted. I'm drained. And there's no well to drink from. No help. No hope. I know what my last inch is, and they won't take it from me. They won't have to. I'll give it away...I already know that. And then I really will have nothing left to give. And when I've nothing left to give, who will stand by me? Who will want to? Where did it all go wrong? Why did I think I could do any of this? Hello, darkness....my old, old friend.... Oh, god, where's my flashlight?
Monday, November 9, 2009
A Prayer
Hey.
I hardly ever talk to You and I almost never ask for anything. Mostly, I just thank You for all the joys I'm lucky enough to experience, but...tonight I'm asking for something. It's this. Give that boy back his confidence. Help him to bounce. Help him to refind and rekindle the joy of those early days when he KNEW he could do it. I'm not sure he thinks he can anymore. I know he can. You know he can. He needs to know it, too. Help him to believe in himself again. Please. Give him back his swagger and his bravado. Help him to know that he CAN. I really don't ask for something very often. I'm asking for this. Please.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Just can't....bounce...today....
Some days, it's just too hard.
Some days, I just can't do it.
Some days, it's really easy to understand why there are those who just can't get out of bed, who give up.
Today...maybe tomorrow morning...is one of those days. There were more than the usual blows, more than the usual kicks to the stomach. More than I can bounce back from.
Make no mistake, every day on this earth for everyone has its moments...moments of discouragement, situations and circumstances in any one life that are difficult. We all face them every day. But some days, there are more of these moments than usual.
Today was one of those days....
My usual load includes the guilt I carry because I'm not working, a husband whose hates his job, the stress that not enough money causes, an unmotivated older child and a very difficult younger child, a house that's dirty and cluttered, a strong (but so far manageable) desire to be just about anywhere but home. My perpetual fear of letting people down.
Today, however, we add to the usual, something that's been lost. We add a child who's going to be kicked out drama. Car trouble. The need to buy a new air conditioning unit. Hurt feelings. And stuff I still didn't get done. A migraine. A sick stomach.
It's almost more than I can bounce back from.
Oh. I know I will. Eventually. But for now, it's just too hard. Too hard to get up. Too hard to smile. Easier just to give up. Stay in bed. Sleep. Sleep until something gives...
Some days, I just can't do it.
Some days, it's really easy to understand why there are those who just can't get out of bed, who give up.
Today...maybe tomorrow morning...is one of those days. There were more than the usual blows, more than the usual kicks to the stomach. More than I can bounce back from.
Make no mistake, every day on this earth for everyone has its moments...moments of discouragement, situations and circumstances in any one life that are difficult. We all face them every day. But some days, there are more of these moments than usual.
Today was one of those days....
My usual load includes the guilt I carry because I'm not working, a husband whose hates his job, the stress that not enough money causes, an unmotivated older child and a very difficult younger child, a house that's dirty and cluttered, a strong (but so far manageable) desire to be just about anywhere but home. My perpetual fear of letting people down.
Today, however, we add to the usual, something that's been lost. We add a child who's going to be kicked out drama. Car trouble. The need to buy a new air conditioning unit. Hurt feelings. And stuff I still didn't get done. A migraine. A sick stomach.
It's almost more than I can bounce back from.
Oh. I know I will. Eventually. But for now, it's just too hard. Too hard to get up. Too hard to smile. Easier just to give up. Stay in bed. Sleep. Sleep until something gives...
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