N is my 14-year-old baby girl

Dear N,

N is my baby girl, my baby girl, my baby girl.
N is my baby girl, my ba-by girl.

You know this song, the one I sang to you and your brothers (although with tweaked lyrics) when you were babies, the one we still occasionally sing when we're giving hugs.

My memories of you as an infant and little girl are increasingly fuzzy. It's not that I want to forget, but I am wrapped up in who you are now, and it is hard for me to remember who you were then.

I'm always proud of you, but I am increasingly proud of your activist pull, your desire to right the wrongs of society. The fact that you chose a woman's rights poster to design for your new art class and had actually made a list of possible topics to protest that included misogyny makes me ever so happy. You aren't about to allow anyone to tell you who you can be. You decide for yourself.

Not too long ago, you decided to no longer wear the thick black lens-less eyeglass frames that have been an accessory for you since fourth grade. While I was a little sad to see them go, I'm also happy that you no longer need or want them. While I loved that you were fierce enough to wear them regardless of what anyone said or thought, I often wondered if you hid behind them. I'm glad to see all of your face now.

The fact that you are 14 doesn't seem to freak me out as much as acknowledging that you will be in high school in August. THAT feels monumental, and it is. In a little over four years, you will be able to vote and heading to college, well on your way to adulthood.

I don't know what you will be when you are an adult, but I'm glad you are a thinking, feeling person, a person who does her own thing and thinks her own thoughts. A person who isn't interested in being like every other girl on the block.

After a lull, you are once again interested in reading which, of course, makes your bookworm mom happy. Reading is critical to developing your skills as a reader, writer, and thinker.

Your friends' moms tell me often how great your personality is, how you are quirky in the best possible ways. I'm glad you have a sense of humor and can both give and take jokes. Being able to find the funny in yourself is a gift.

You tell me often that you're glad I'm your mom. Even though I tell you that you're the weirdest teen on the planet when you say this, I'm glad you think I'm a good mom. I'm glad you aren't hell bent on proving yourself to yourself. You have a calm confidence that it took me until my twenties to develop. (Possibly my thirties.)

I hope 14 is a great year. I hope you get into the high school you want (even though it will be mean more driving for me and I might whine a lot about it). I hope you have a great Spring Break trip with your cousin.

I'm not usually sad that you are no longer my sweet baby girl because I was able to savor those years with you, and I'm super excited to see what kind of young woman you become.

I love you to the Upside Down and back (cause that's way edgier than the moon),

Momma

Probably not everything I want to say about guns, rights, mental health, and parenting

but many of the thoughts I've had this week in the wake of the Parkland, FL shooting.

I. Rights and regulations

The older I've gotten, the more rights conscious I've become.

Right are a tricky bit of business.

When I see people who tend to be more liberal lash out against guns, I cannot help but remember how strongly they lash out when someone who is more conservative wants to restrict their reproductive rights. The way one person feels about the government poking its nose into what a woman does reproductively is the same way another person feels about the government poking its nose into what weapons they can or cannot purchase.

The difference, I think, is that the government in its current form is continually attempting (even if unsuccessful) to restrict and regulate reproduction, and the same is not done for gun-ownership. I frequently see news stories about legislatures in various states trying to pass laws to restrict abortion.

Just as gun-owners don't want the government dictating to them what they can and cannot go with guns, so to do millions of people not want the government dictating to them what they can and cannot do with their bodies.

But what about the babies, someone might argue? The fetuses? This might be the conservative response.
And the people who want some level of restriction on bump stocks and military grade assault weapons might respond, "But what about the innocent school children who are shot?"
In both cases, there is a common desire to protect the innocent.
In protecting the innocent, that may mean that BOTH SIDES must be willing to compromise in some measure.

This country is not very good at the middle ground.

If every person followed the tenets of natural law, there would be no need for man-made law. We have man-made laws because not every one does adhere to natural law. Natural law is the Declaration of Independence, that humans have the right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. If every individual could pursue their own life, liberty and happiness without infringing on others' lives, liberties and happiness, that would be grand. The Constitution is the set of man-made laws that we created to help ensure the natural laws are upheld.

We restrict or regulate for things like pseudoephedrine (because a small slice of the population creates methamphetamines) or yard darts, but we do not regulate as much for guns.

My lifetime allergies make me sympathetic to gun-owners who don't want their rights infringed on....because I know what that infringement feels like when I have to buy my Alavert-D piecemeal at the pharmacy and turn over my driver's license to make my congestion go away. But as a person who is currently infringed on, I also lack sympathy that anyone can go to a gun-show and purchase military grade weapons without submitting their driver's license.

II. Parenting 

Without a doubt, parenting is different now, and I'm not entirely sure why.

When I was a kid, if my teacher said I did something wrong, my parents would absolutely take the side of the teacher, and my ass would have been grass. Even if they disagreed with the teacher, which they might express to the teacher, my parents would have (to me) been a united front with my teacher.

As the Larry Nasser trial has shown, accepting "authority" figures without question is not always good. It is not a terrible thing that parents are less willing to accept without question or critical thinking the authority figures in their children's lives. How many kids were abused by priests in the 1970s and 1980s because parents respected these "authority" figures beyond reproach?

But rather than taking a middle ground, parents have gone off the proverbial cliff. If a child does wrong, everyone but the child is held responsible. It is the teacher's fault, the administration's fault, the school board's fault, the district's fault.

My hope is that eventually the pendulum will swing back.

Of course, there are plenty of children whose lives are untimigated disasters because their parents lives are unmitigated disasters.

Even though I am a lowly substitute teacher, I see this all the time. One student who is in a class I have frequently subbed for is one of four children who are being raised by grandparents. From what I understand, her mother lost custody because of drugs. I do not know if a father is in the picture. This girl is a special needs student who is heading down a road that will go nowhere.

She is a sad, sad child, and I cannot help but feel for her (even though I am also fully aware that she can be/is manipulative). What I have noticed is that she works very hard, at least when I am there. She is by no means perfect, but she tries very hard. Unfortunately for her, her special needs (and I'm not certain what they are) make learning a difficult thing, but she does the work as best she can.

One week, when I subbed, I overheard her talking to a girl in class about when she turns 14 soon, she is gonna smoke pot. She mentioned that she hangs out with a guy who is 18. I don't need to tell you how messed up this is. I didn't say anything that day to the girl.

The next time I was there, though, I did say something to this girl. I commended her on how hard I see her working when I'm there, and I mentioned her conversation from the previous week. I told her that I know she is going to probably do whatever she wants, because I was 14 once too, and I remember how stubborn I was, but that I hoped she wouldn't do it because she is such a hard worker and has such potential.

This girl got tears in her eyes, so I let her hang out in the hall for a few while she composed herself. When she came back in the classroom, she came up to me and thanked me for saying what I said. I told her I never say things I don't mean, and that I hope she at least thinks about it.

I'm not this child's parent, and there is little I can do, but my hope is that what I said makes some difference for her. I don't expect that she is going to go down the "better" path, the path of less heartache, but for the moment, she knows someone sees her potential and cares, that someone doesn't want her to fall through the cracks.

She is one child of perhaps hundreds of thousands of children who are at-risk, through no fault of their own. And one teacher with 30 students in every class cannot be expected to "save" every child.

Unfortunately, there are some students, perhaps like the boy in Parkland, who are beyond saving.

III. Mental health and gender

I have a "mental illness," though I would say it is of the mild variety. I was self-aware enough to get help.

I have a child with a "mental illness," and I have done what I can to get him help.

I work very, very hard to instill empathy in my child, to help provide some protection that his mental illness will not ever become one that harms others (or himself).

I have seen a number of comments about mental health in the wake of the Parkland shooting, like the fact that females make up a large percentage of the incidence of mental illness, and yet it is boys who are the school shooters.

Why is this?
I wish I knew.

Boys are falling behind in many ways. Girls are outpacing them in college.
The push to help girls attain equality has, perhaps inadvertently, left boys behind.
As a mother of a girl, I'm glad females have more opportunities.
As a mother of two boys, I worry about their self-image and opportunities.
In the wake of helping boys become more sensitive and empathic, there has been a pendulum swing towards hyper-masculinity.  It seems like there is an either or. Either a boy is a sensitive-type or a masculine dude.
Again, our country isn't too great with the middle ground that a boy can be both.

IV. Schools, teachers, and police

If I wanted to be a sniper, I would have gone into the military or law enforcement.
No teacher goes into teaching because they want to wield a gun. They either love their subject and want to share it with others, or they love kids. Or both.
Given all the responsibilities of teachers, they do not need to be tasked with protecting children by carrying weapons.

There is no way in hell that asking teachers to carry weapons is a good idea, and I'm saying this on a purely logical level.

Things to consider--

1. When exactly are teachers supposed to get training for weaponry? Is this going to count as professional development or will they still have to do their normal professional development each year in their subject areas? Are schools going to pay for this additional training? How often does the training need to be reviewed? Is there licensing and associated fees? Who pays for those?

2. Will schools provide the weapons to teachers? Will schools pay the increased insurance for these teachers? If a teacher carries his/her own weapon, who carries the insurance? The school or the teacher or do both? Does the teacher get additional pay for acting as both teacher and security?

3. Do parents have the right to request that their children not be placed in a classroom with a teacher who carries a weapon? Do parents have the right to request that their children be placed in a classroom with a teacher who carries a weapon? How does this affect class size and scheduling?

4. If there are schools where no teachers have weapons, while some schools have an overabundance of teachers with weapons, do those teachers have to change schools? Will this be a stipulation in employment contracts?

5. Are schools going to provide weapon safes in the classrooms where these teachers are? Are these teachers the only ones with access to these safes? Does administration have access?

6. Given the budget cutbacks for most schools, where is the money going to come from to pay for these guns, insurance, safes, and training? Would the money be better spent in getting metal detectors for schools?

7. If a child were to inadvertently get a hold of a gun and hurt someone, is the teacher responsible or the school? How much liability insurance is needed? Given that there are limitations on what types of playground equipment schools have, I wonder if underwriters would even give insurance for this?


V. Conclusion?

It's complicated. I consider myself fairly intelligent, but I'm no expert on any of these things. These are just the thoughts that have been running through my head without any evidence or dialogue with others.

I like reading about how to save money, but....

I'm always drawn to those articles with titles like, "How to save an extra $500 this year!" and "Ways to be even more frugal than you already are."

I click on them, thinking that in one I will find THE MYSTERY TRICK to squeeze a little more blood from a penny.

But what I find is that these articles either suggest doing things I already do or they suggest things that are just, to me, a little ridiculous.

The articles that suggest the things I already do list things like "get books from the library instead of buying them," and "get rid of cable television." Generally, there is nothing these articles suggest that I'm not already doing.

The other articles suggest things that sound "easy" but are a pretty big time suck, in my opinion, like taking surveys every month to earn money. Or using ten trillion apps to save money.

The problem with some of these ideas is that they don't value time, and time is valuable. I use store apps for coupons and iBotta, but these require time to use. They require regular checking to ensure I've clicked the coupons I want and have scanned my receipts and submitted them.

Articles that suggest shopping at four different stores to save money on special items that those stores have on sale don't consider the time involved and the gas involved in driving to and from four different stores.

The articles that suggest that I can get my grocery budget down to $100 a month often require me to buy foods and items that I don't want. I might be able to find a coupon for a $1 bottle of lotion, but with my sensitive skin, I might not even be able to use the lotion, in which case I have spent $1 on nothing.

I don't buy Hamburger Helper or refrigerated biscuits or Poptarts because they are full of preservatives and calories. To buy them might "save me money," but I have to consider my eating values. I'd rather not buy them and spend a little more on veggies or fruits or whole-grain foods. To get $100 on foods I don't want isn't saving me $100.

Over time, I've learned that you sometimes have to spend more money on one thing to avoid spending money on another thing.

For example, last May, I developed plantar fasciitis. I went out and bought a pair of $90 fitness shoes to wear while I walk, and my intention is to purchase a new pair this May. My condition has improved, but I don't want it to come back, which may result in doctor visits and cortisone shots and specially made insoles. Spending $90 a year on new high-quality shoes can potentially keep me from spending a ton more if I re-injure myself.

I've also learned from experience that doing things yourself might not actually be cost-efficient. I tried to change the faucet fixtures in our powder room once. I got the old ones out and could not get the new ones in, so I called a plumber. It took the plumber AND his apprentice to fit the new fixture in. There is no way I could have actually done it myself, and I could have made things worse, which would have been MORE expensive, not less.

I'm sure, despite what I know about these articles, I will continue reading them. I'm a realist but I somehow can suspend my disbelief enough to think maybe there is a Holy Grail.

Why I don't write fiction

Each week, I give my cottage school students a writing prompt to begin class.

Sometimes these prompts relate to the text we're reading, and sometimes they are just fun and creative.
I have found that the weirder the prompt, the better. My students don't seem to like a run-of-the-mill, "Write about your future goals" or "Write about your best vacation" prompt.

I search the Internet widely for prompts and ran across this one this morning. It is a line of dialogue, and students were instructed to write a short story around this dialogue: Sir (or Madam), we all have cats we'd rather be at home playing with.

As a college professor once more or less told me: You're a great writer, but your ideas suck. He said it nicer, and he said it about only one particular writing piece I wrote, but in general, I agree with him.

I don't have good ideas.

Here is proof.
This is a very short "story" I wrote this afternoon while my students were composing their stories.
I read mine at the end.
Suffice it to say, my students weren't impressed.

FYI: If you read the professor's dialogue with a fake German or Austrian accent, I think it makes it better.

“I shouldn’t have to say this to my teacher,” I thought.

I had thoughts like that a lot. Thoughts about what an irresponsible teenage human should not have to say to someone who should be a responsible adult human. It was a role-reversal I never wanted nor asked for.

“Madam, we all have cats we’d rather be home playing with,” I said. “But you have to teach today. There’s just no way around it.”

“But Snoopsie and Moopsie and Diffenschmutz miss me terribly when I’m not there,” she sighed. “They mew and lament, their tales hanging between their legs, no feline enthusiasm at all when I pack my bag to leave.”

I didn’t know if it was possible for my eyes to roll permanently back in my head, but given how frequently it happened nowadays, I had begun to worry. 

“Snoopsie, Moopsie, and Diffenschmutz will be fine,” I assured her. “Don’t you pay someone to check on them?”

“Yes. I pay Patricia’s Puss Playpals $1000 a week to come give my babies their lovings,” she said.

“1,000 dollars a week!!!!!  Are you daft?” I yelled.

“I am a professor of astrophysics, and I understand concepts about this universe that you couldn’t even begin to wrap your puny little brain around. Please do not patronize me!  My grimalkins are my world, and if I want to pay $5,000 a week for their care, I will,” she screeched.

“Wait, $5,000? You said $1,000!” I replied.

“$1,000 is for playtime. I spend $2,000 on restorative massages for them. $1500 for a personal chef to grind tuna filets for their meals. The remaining $500 is for cat toys.”

Later that day, after my teacher had taught her classes and careened out of the parking lot to return to her pride of tabbies, I had my mom take me to Dr. Edward’s Eyeball World. I knew mine would get stuck, but I didn’t know my teacher’s budget would be the cause.