MariMama

3-12-15

I am a Marijuana Mama and am becoming rather proud of it.

Every afternoon at 3:40, my children sit down at the table and pull out their homework. Let me clarify; they sit down and I start what is a 2 hour battle to get them to not only get out their homework, but get them to get it done in a timely fashion. On our best days, it is still at least a 30 minute stress fest that has been handled many different ways in the past, including drill sergeant mode to passive hippie. They all seem to have their cons, but I have finally discovered the best way to stay as even keel.

When I arrive home from work, a good two hours before diving in the trenches, I take a couple of hits. I am not completely baked, but a fog of euphoria certainly washes over me. I can let go of work drama and in some strange backlash against stereotype, I become very productive. One day this week I not only swept the house and worked on dishes, but I also re-arranged and cleaned the catio before the boys arrived home. It turns out pot is the fire to light up my productivity lamp.

Once those two hours have passed, my high instead turns into a perfect mellow in which even though I have to stay on my offspring to keep on task, I don’t feel the same level of absolute frustration that takes place with the burden of homework.

The jokes you hear about being a parent these days often have punch lines including copious amounts of liquor, mostly in the form of wine. There was a time when truly every time the boys whined, I also wined. I got my prescription a little over a year ago and my drinking has gone by the wayside. It is wonderful since I feel like when I have a cocktail now, it is because I like the taste, not just the slight numbing effect it has.

It could be considered poor parenting to be advocating the positive effects of cannabis. I think that would be a closed minded view on this. Any parent these days will tell you about the hells of the homework hour(s). I don’t know of anyone who doesn’t want to pull their hair out at least once a week because of a sheet of long division questions their 10 year old has to complete. Even Kindergarteners seem to have a great deal of paperwork going home each day. Sure, it is mostly basic concepts, but it is still a chunk of time that parents must take with their kid to force them to do more school work after they just spent 6 hours doing the same thing. I know I would be pretty resentful if every day when I got home from work that I was then forced to do more work in the sanctuary I call home.

I am glad that there is a product that allows me to navigate these tricky waters that include science fair projects and essays and reports on crumbling missions. With each week, I see yet another chunk of time spent on how to count using a number line or a story about what you would do if you had rockets for feet. I do love watching them learn since I am not always privy to that phenomenon the way I was when I was their only teacher. Sadly, it is often easy to forget the wonder that is a child’s brain when you are racking your own on how to get them motivated to get it done.

I will continue to explore the powers of pot and how it helps me be a better member of my household. Not only does it mellow me when I need to be calm for my children and amp me when laundry needs to be done, but it also sometimes forces me to simply become part of the couch. When I relax, my husband and children feel they can. It is healthy to sometimes just watch a couple of mindless shows in order to give your brain a chance to reboot. I find that if I have a couple of puffs an hour or so before bed, I will sit and watch a show and then crawling into bed I feel blissful. I don’t have all of the things on my mind that need to be done. All of that was put on hold the minute I allowed myself to take off the cape and be a civilian for a while.

Whatever you can do to be a better parent to the children you are raising is something to be proud of. I am taking care of my mental well-being, which in turn is hopefully going to result in happy childhood memories for my boys. Isn’t that reason enough?

The Open Minded Child

3-11-15






Curse-a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something. n offensive word or phrase used to express anger or annoyance.






There was most likely a time in history that if a child cursed you, said child would be burned at the stake. Now everything from video games to movies have not only curse words, but actual curses present. Harry Potty dies at the hand of Voldemort with Avada Kedavra, or the Killing Curse. Curses are part of popular culture and it doesn’t really seem like they are taken seriously, let alone considered offensive for the most part.






Of course dropping an F-Bomb in class will get a child detention. But what if the same kid simply told another kid he was putting a curse on him? Is this a punishable offense? Is this something that falls within the conditions of an offensive action?






This question comes up due to a situation that took place at soccer practice last week. During a team building drill, there was a curse uttered. It wasn’t anything fancy or one uttered by a Death Eater, but the results were certainly questionable.






The game played was tag in which there were two people who were “it” and the rest of the team had to avoid them in the designated area. If they were tagged, they were to sit down with the hopes that two of their other fleeing teammates would come over and tag them back in. It is wild and crazy and filled with gobs of laughter on the part of everyone involved. Imagine my surprise when I received an email the following day from a parent indicating that something had made it upsetting for one of the kids.






Cameron, who was one of the kids who was doing the tagging had managed to catch Carlos which put him as out pending team help. That wasn’t the issue at hand. It was the words that Cameron chose to use once he had tapped Carlos on the arm.






“I curse you!”






I can hear the words being said by this player simply by thinking about the vibe of the game. I hear the joking around and the menacing laugh delivered with joy that was simply a silly declaration that went with the mood.






Sadly, this is not how Carlos heard it. He heard it as an act of aggression that sparked fear in him. He was concerned that this phrase meant he now had an actual curse on him and he asked his mother if this is something that could actually happen.






This is a 9 year old boy. He attends a Christian private school and for the most part is a very quiet and sweet child. There is a certain innocence about him that was pointed out in the email I received from his mother. She indicated he was sensitive and that something like this shouldn’t be said at a soccer practice.






I am a rather progressive mother. My kids actually do drop F-Bombs, but they understand that they can only do that in my own house and it should be used sparingly. They read Harry Potter and understand all of the make believe that JK Rowling has masterfully woven together in her books. Although we don’t attend church or as parents believe in a major deity, we allow and encourage our kids to ask questions and if need be, look into any major (or minor) religion and would support their belief system without batting an eye.






I don’t know enough about Cameron’s upbringing, but can venture a guess he is somewhere in between my family and that of Carlos’. He most likely has an active imagination and the idea of adding curses to a game of tag seem pretty harmless. I doubt he meant any hard to come to Carlos and I would bet that he wouldn’t even remember his utterance.






This situation left me in a pickle. On one hand, as a representative of our soccer organization I had a duty to address the situation without being dismissive. Whether or not I agree with the idea of one child cursing another has nothing to do with the fact that I have to address the complaint. At the same time, I certainly couldn’t come down like a crazy person and put a moratorium on kids being, well, kids.






Even after choosing the correct words carefully in my email back, I still worried that this wouldn’t be the last time Carlos would have to deal with modern times. I would never criticize a religious based school as I know every school is different in how they handle the ever changing landscape of what is blasphemy and what is simply good fun. And in this situation, this wasn’t coming from the school, but in fact the family which is truly where a child learns the most from. At what point does this family as a whole start bringing these kind of topics into the home?






There are times in a kid’s life in which you start to let them in on the little secrets of life. Fifth graders get to watch videos about their changing bodies. 7th graders start to hear some sex ed. College often is when everyone experiments with everything from booze to drugs to even partners. What is the right age to explain to a kid that even though they love their chosen god and adhere to the morals and principals that they are taught that they have to understand not everyone follows these guidelines?






This is a question with no correct answer. I recognize that as I end this that I may have opened a larger can of worms than originally presented to me. That being said, I think it is important as a society that we start to consider these things when we as parents embark on the journey of child rearing. There is a lot of discussion about how we will handle things like Santa Claus or Jesus, but perhaps we need to make a point of giving kids a spectrum as opposed to a one or the other. The only way to truly help our kids grow mentally and spiritually is to give them a little more guidance about how to handle people that they may encounter with a different background.






Open minded children create well rounded adults. It is an important thing to remember.

Rescue

3-5-15

Adrenaline and pot make an interesting combination.

I heard the first scream and I assumed it was kids messing around. The second scream made it very clear that something was very, very wrong. The subsequent shrieks as I ran from downstairs in homework land became more and more blood curdling and I knew I was about to have an adventure.

I ran out the front door and found the source of the terror. A woman was standing at her car and looked to be struggling with the door. Around the car were multiple kids, all of whom were crying and yelling. From the distance I was from them, which wasn’t much, it was hard to tell what had taken place. I assessed the situation to make sure I wasn’t running into danger. I was glad to see someone else had stopped to help out because it meant I wouldn’t be entering this alone.

The woman, a young mom, had slammed her hand in the car door. The incident had resulted in a pretty nasty slice along her finger which was bleeding profusely. The kids were terrified. This was their mom who was in pain and bleeding, and let’s face it, it is scary when you see anyone have this going on. Now they were watching their mother go through this. The kids varied in age from maybe 4 to 13. The youngest was having the hardest time and was almost inconsolable.

I got the woman to sit down on the curb. I tried to get the man who had stopped to help to call 911, but both he and the mom insisted this didn’t take place. I took some time to try and talk to the kids, trying to calm them down to some degree because their screams were actually making the mom unable to relax long enough for us to check her out.

We needed supplies, so I ran home to get towels. Thankfully the boys were in the front yard and so I was able to yell out to them to grab some towels. Before I even got to the house, Bobby had grabbed me multiple towels, including one that was wet. I was impressed with how quickly he jumped to help me out with this. He kept his cool, which shows how often the boys have watched Ken and I handle things like this.

I ran back to the woman where I began to assess the injury. It wasn’t horrid, but it was a pretty nasty gash. She was in a bit of shock, but was talking and had calmed down significantly. A lot of this was due to someone taking the kids to their home in the trailer park. We rinsed her hand and then I wrapped it tightly, having her hold pressure on it. It gave her focus to do this and it allowed the man and I to make sure she was ok otherwise.

She proceeded to tell us how her whole day had been stressful. Her son had peed on the floor in his kinder class just to be funny, which resulted in multiple phone calls with the principal. The little one had been acting up all afternoon and she said it just felt like nothing was going right in her day. She went into a ramble about how all 5 kids were hers, even though she only had birthed two of them. The youngest was one who’s birth mom was never in the picture, so this woman was the only one that she knew as a mom, which may have been her way of explaining the freak out.

The man was great, talking calmly to her while I checked her hand out. We got her much more stable and after a few minutes of pressure, the bleeding had already stopped. I was worried about her going home on her own, but she was insistent, pointing out she didn’t live more than a short walk away into the mobile home facility.

The man left and I stuck with her to make sure she was ok to walk. She was so very grateful and I wished I had asked her name. At the time, though, I was just worried about her wound. Plus, I know that one of the kids was a girl in my group for the mission field trip. Sadly it meant that Bobby didn’t know her name right off the top of his head, but he thinks he knows who she is and will try to ask her today if her mom was ok.

I walked back to the house noting my audience had increased. Not only were the boys in the front yard watching me, but Sabrina had arrived and was standing with them. In addition to this, multiple neighbors were outside, mostly chatting with one another since I had shouted some updates out to everyone when I went to retrieve the towels.

The whole incident was certainly exhilarating. I was glad that I was able to help, even though I know I should have done more. I also am pleased that my boys got to watch me help someone out. I know they often see Ken handling things like that, but it was nice to be able to be the one who was the “hero”. Who knows, maybe we will inspire them in a way that will make them be those good Samaritans you always hear about that can help someone in danger. I like the idea of making a difference like that.

The shape of youth

3-4-15

“This looks like a dildo!”

Ok, when you read that sentence, it doesn’t really seem like that big of deal. Of course, that is if you don’t know that it was uttered by your 8 year old son while he was doing homework on measurements. The object in question was actually a baster and his declaration was out of amusement.

I honestly hoped I had heard wrong. I know that my boys are growing up fast, but it doesn’t mean you are ever really ready for the “talk”. They have asked me questions about babies and other sexual related items. There is a store near our house that sells adult videos and toys. We passed it one day when my 10 year old asked me why they sell the fancy underwear in the window. I quickly explained that women feel pretty when they wear fancy undies and boys like to look at women when they are in fancy undies. He laughed and indicated this all made sense and the subject was dropped. I was pleased that the advice I had always heard about kids wanting to know less than you think you need to answer on those questions was in fact very true.

Both Dax and Bobby watch a lot of videos online. Youtube is filled with goofy guys playing video games while recording it and they narrate with wacky and mostly cheesy comedy. Sure, a good portion of it is filled with everything a growing boy finds hysterical; swearing, poop talk and a healthy dose of slapstick. I know I should probably pay closer attention to these videos, but having heard a lot of them, I haven’t seen any real harm being done.

The knowledge of a dildo certainly does make me pause. I wonder if perhaps they are describing a similar looking item in a game and calling it dildo-shaped which is where Dax picked up the language at hand. It is possible, too, that there was in fact a more crude conversation taking place while the video showed the various characters in their games that would make it seem more adult in nature.

Thankfully I kept my cool when the words came out like a firecracker. I asked him to repeat what he said, and he gladly did so. I then proceeded to ask him where he had heard this word and if he even knew what a dildo was. He only seemed to know it was a toy but couldn’t elaborate. In all fairness, it was at this time you could see the slight tint of fear sweep across his face. I noted that look he gets not long before he would burst into tears over something he was getting in trouble for. I quickly explained that he was not in trouble and that I was more curious as to what they knew.

I could have possibly made this a more insightful conversation. I might have been able to use it as a way to venture in to topics such as masturbation, which I know is something they are, if only in an innocent manner, aware of. Instead, I opted to just explain that it was a grownup word and ultimately they shouldn’t use it with their friends or at school, to which both of them nodded in agreement and we went back to the homework in front of them.

I wonder if I handled it correctly since I worry that I the subject of sex shouldn’t be made out to be a bad thing. At the same time, I feel that they are too young to get into the subtle nuances that include things like toys and lingerie. We are a relatively progressive household with both boys allowed to use swear words, which I am very careful to point out to them are not “bad” words, but simply words that are not allowed in certain situations such as school. There is no shame put on nakedness and I have never been opposed to any kind of questions concerning body parts and functionality. I don’t say I had them in my tummy, trying to utilize the correct terminology of uterus instead. It in some ways feels like I should have possibly asked them more questions in order to have an open dialogue.

In the end, I have decided to not bring it up further. I know I probably should also watch some of those mind numbingly boring videos they cackle at on a daily basis, but I just can’t bring myself to care enough. Both of them will hear words and phrases through their life and I suppose all I can do is to continue to let them know I don’t mind questions about these topics. Plus, I am pleased that I can pawn off things like the sex talk to Ken, since let’s face it, hearing about sex from your mother as a boy has to be icky whereas your dad will be less weird.  I figure I can reserve my ways of embarrassing them in other circumstances.

Leaving Me Now

2-3-15

"Leaving Me Now"

It seems true love is so rare
Seems all I've known is deceit
Your laughter fills the air
Once more I'm sensing defeat

And I suppose you're leaving me now
I was so sure, now I'm so full of doubt
And I suppose you'll be leaving this place
Just like the smile you've wiped from my face
This time

I always gave my best
Your memory serves you so badly
Some people kill for less
Yet I'd still die for you gladly (so gladly)

But I suppose it's my turn now
To play a scene that's familiar somehow
I turn the page and you walk away
Not even love could bring you to stay
This time

Walk away, it's so easy

Once more I'm learning
In the depths of my despair
Your lies confirming
True love is so rare

And I suppose it's my turn now
There's no more love, only feelings of doubt
Gone with the hope your words have erased
Gone with the smile you wiped from my face

Love is a ship we all hope to steer
Through troubled times, 'cross an ocean of tears
A midnight sea that swells in your eyes
Takes just one look to know I'm still mesmerised

But I suppose you're leaving me now
I was so sure, now I'm so full of doubt
I turn the page and you walk away
Not even love could bring you to stay
This time

Leaving me now
Leaving this place

Recently I started to go through old photos and mementos and with all of this I started thinking about mix tapes I have been given through the years. Sure, some were just groupings of songs that were fantastic. I was spoiled being that I knew DJ’s who had the equipment and music catalog that would allow for some amazing tunes. In some ways, the songs on those tapes almost don’t seem right when you play them without the follow up songs.

Of course, there also was the more heartfelt mix tape variety. I have a tape Ken gave me when we first started dating. Even though the songs are dated, there is something romantic and sweet to listen to music he wanted to share with me as songs he thought of when he thought of me. I even started putting the songs into a playlist on my iPod so that when I am not near a cassette player I can be reminded of the music of our past.

There are also the breakup tapes. I have the one in which Greg gave me that only contained 4 songs. I remember playing those songs over and over to the point where I am shocked the tape didn't snap. I am not only talking about it breaking from over use, either. I played that tape around people to the point where I am shocked they didn't crack it in half. I suppose they understood time was still needed.

The tape that hit me odd this last week was one from David. Senior year, in a confusing week of crazy, he told me he loved me. I was still reeling from the theatre incident with Ken and Greg and being ostracized from some of my friends for my actions and was truly at a low point. He was there much of the week, trying to pull me from my funk with kindness and laughter. Sadly, his timing was poor when it came to the conversation we got into the Friday after what happened during Dragon: The Bruce Lee Story only days before.

We had gone and saw Dave and afterwards were just driving around, hanging out like we normally did. It is strange that I don’t remember the specifics, but I remember so clearly the panic I felt. His affections, although sweet, were not something I wanted, let alone needed right then. Perhaps he thought with me being vulnerable it was the perfect time. Maybe he just wanted me to feel better. Maybe he just couldn't contain it any further. I don’t know his reasoning. I only know I needed to get away.

You see, for the couple of years leading up to this, I fielded questions and speculations about David and my relationship. We were such close friends, but as the old adage goes, men and women can’t be just friends. I didn't (and still don’t) believe this is the case, but it didn't prevent the assumptions floating around. So for him to actually come right out and say it essentially shot my whole belief to hell.

As we arrived at my house, the only thing I could tell him was that it wouldn't affect our friendship. I assured him I would call him the following day and I high tailed it out of the car.

I was a liar.

Of course, things might have been different had certain phone calls not taken place. I didn't know what the following day had in store for me, which included a lot of talking with Greg. As much as the prospect of being with Ken was appealing, I didn't know there was any future there due to Beth. I didn't want to be with David like that, but I wanted so very badly to not lose him. In the end, though, I chose safe and familiar and went back to the person that would not only make me change who I was, but he insisted that I steer clear of these two threats to the relationship. It meant I was no longer allowed to speak to David or Ken. I was so scared of being away from Greg I consented.

The only issue was that I saw David that night. He had ridden his bike from Fullerton to see me. I remember the broken look on his face as Greg and I pulled out of my driveway. It was devastating. I was a horrid person and yet I didn't do anything about it.

Sometime later, David came into Blockbuster with a box that included my velvet cloak, two giant letters and a cassette tape. One of the letters said to read first, which I did. The sentiment was sobering. I felt so very bad. It addressed a letter I has sent to him telling him that I couldn't be friends with him. I was particularly harsh at the time, using so many of Greg’s words to accuse him of taking advantage of my fragile state of mind at the time. It was really unfair of me, but we all have that period in our teen years where we don’t consider the consequences of our actions, or more specifically, our words.

The second letter was actually lyrics to the songs contained on the tape. This brings us to the song I started this post with. I listened to this again, multiple times, over the last week and it pains me that I made anyone feel this sad. Look, I know I have felt sad and angry at people for what they have done to me, but boy, it isn't a picnic knowing you have caused the same kind of emotion in someone. Sometimes people don’t realize the power they hold over others, and we take for granted that they can be severely affected by our actions.

I would like to explain this story to the boys someday. I want them to understand, or at least acknowledge the waters they will navigate as they age. I don’t want them to stay with anyone out of guilt or fear, but I also want them to choose their words and actions carefully since it is a powerful thing to bring anyone to tears. I know they will hurt people, and I know people will hurt them. If I can arm them with some additional insight, perhaps they will experience both with less permanent damage.

I might not be able to change the past, nor do I really want to. I do like that I might be able to influence the future because of my past.

slumber party

3-2-15

It’s March already????

It was another exhausting weekend at Steve. I am assuming one of these weekends will just consist of sitting around, but I don’t see one on the horizon. That is probably ok since I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if I wasn’t swamped.

The Saturday soccer was actually rather uneventful. The game ended in a tie and was hard fought. Dax was getting rather frustrated but it was mostly because he doesn’t realize that as one of the better players he is going to be targeted by the other team. They are going to send their best players after him since he is the biggest threat. Mind you, I don’t mean in a man way. They just know that he is the player to mark and it can be annoying. Bobby was doing amazing at the game. He was really upping his game and could consistently clear the ball when he was in defense. It was really great to see.

Ian was the only friend who was able to come to the party, but this didn’t damper the plans. The boys all played well into the night and finally went to bed at about 1. I crashed at 10. Ken stayed up with them. He was already exhausted since the night before due to the cold wind coming into the bedroom irritated his throat. He never really got to sleep even after coming to bed after the boys finally fell asleep.

I was surprised in the morning that Bobby was the first up. Usually it is Dax. He was just hanging out, though, playing his iPad quietly so as not to wake up Dax or Ian. I made the kids pancakes even though they didn’t eat much. Ian didn’t eat at all! His mother assured me this was incredibly normal for him and I totally can relate to this idea. His parents were lovely and super nice. They are our kind of people and I didn’t feel like I was lacking at a parent. Plus, anyone that shows up with tats and skulls is pretty much always welcome at Steve.

Once Ian headed home around 11, we climbed into the car and headed out to Riverside. The boys were hell bent on getting into the pool, even if it ended up being just getting into the hot tub because let’s face it, swimming in an unheated pool when it is overcast and rainy isn’t a great idea. I felt bad when I did get them out after their second round but they were both so clearly exhausted I knew that getting them home was a good plan. Luckily I was able to visit with Grammie a fair amount and also got to see Jo and Justin, so this was cool. Shockingly the boys did not fall asleep on the way home!

Dax wasn’t feeling great when we got home. He said he had a headache, but really most of it was how tired he was. I made the household comfort foods in the form of spaghetti-o’s for Dax and Top Ramen for the rest of us. It really was the perfect way to end the weekend.

My week looks to be mostly standard. We have practice and a board meeting coming up. Tonight is a fundraiser night at Chipotle for the school which gives me an excellent excuse to finally try the place. Plus it means no cooking. Ha! This will be nice since I am guessing we will still all be rather mellow this evening.

Now to just make it through the work day.