I walked into Starbucks today and there was a melancholy song on. The sky was dreary and the regulars trudged in wearing winter coats and boots. I noticed the lack of decorations and spunk.
The holidays are over. I'm not sure why I'm surprised.
At least when winter is starting there are the holidays to look forward to. Everywhere you go, you have the assurance of holiday cheer, or at least a setting to inspire the spirit. Once Valentine's day has sucked the life out of the single people and broke the bank for those poor men who buy triple priced roses, there's really nothing to prepare for until Spring. And yes there is Spring to look forward to but this dreary part of winter is my absolute most despised time of year. We have had a really easy mild winter season, and Mother Nature, please don't get me wrong I certainly appreciate your kindness in the precipitation and temperature department however, I need some sun.
I have noticed that the days are getting longer and I swore I heard the first trace of annoying birds start chirping outside my window. (Please note I am not a bird hater. I don't try to shoot them with BB guns, but the 3 trees in our front yard are home to the loudest and possibly earliest rising birds in town and I don't care for them at 4:45am thank you very much). Even though those birds are a good sign, Spring just always feels so far away. St. Patrick's Day is not as fun as when I was in university and unless there's a Shamrock Shake involved, I'm not decorating.
I don't think Starbucks is either.
Thursday, 16 February 2012
Monday, 6 February 2012
Why Brennan Makes Me Laugh
He says good-bye to his toys, shoes, and Daddy's car when we go out, "Bye toys. See you soon."
When he sees a picture of one of us, he asks, "Is dat you Mommy? Dat you?" Always says it twice.
He calls my Gramma 'Ding Dong' because she has a grandfather clock and when it goes off she says ding dong. So now she's Ding Dong. When he talks to her on the phone, just before getting off, he still says, "Merry Christmas Ding Dong" then kisses the phone.
He stands in front of the fridge and says, "Umm how bout...yogurt?"
At dinner time, he says, "No, I don't want dinner. How bout cookie? 1,2,3 cookie."
He says goodbye to his poop.
When he wakes up in the morning he asks to 'watch his shows'. He knows The Young and the Restless is Mommy's show and hockey is Daddy's show.
When we pass the Goodlife plaza he asks to 'go to gym'. It's a helpful reminder.
This new exchange I still don't get. My friend Lyss posts these hilarious conversations she has with her son, so I thought I'd steal her idea and give it a whirl...
Brennan: "Brennan have grapes?"
Me: "You want grapes?"
Brennan: "Yes"
Me: "How do you ask?"
Brennan: "Peas Mommy"
I cut up grapes and pass him the bowl.
Brennan screaming and crying: "NOOOO!! I don't like grapes!"
Me: "Okay, Mommy will have them then."
Brennan: "No Brennan wants grapes."
And then he eats them.
When he plays with his tool set, he always says, "Look Mommy! Just like Grandpa!"
If he sees anything with Toy Story, he knows it's his cousin Grayce's favourite and if he sees anything to do with Cars, he knows it's his best friend's favourite. He likes monkeys.
He pretends to cook in his kitchen when I'm pretending to cook in mine.
He tells me what direction to turn when I'm driving and he's usually right!
And last but not least...Brennan makes me laugh when he farts and then says, "Toots" and then cracks up laughing. Look out ladies!
When he sees a picture of one of us, he asks, "Is dat you Mommy? Dat you?" Always says it twice.
He calls my Gramma 'Ding Dong' because she has a grandfather clock and when it goes off she says ding dong. So now she's Ding Dong. When he talks to her on the phone, just before getting off, he still says, "Merry Christmas Ding Dong" then kisses the phone.
He stands in front of the fridge and says, "Umm how bout...yogurt?"
At dinner time, he says, "No, I don't want dinner. How bout cookie? 1,2,3 cookie."
He says goodbye to his poop.
When he wakes up in the morning he asks to 'watch his shows'. He knows The Young and the Restless is Mommy's show and hockey is Daddy's show.
When we pass the Goodlife plaza he asks to 'go to gym'. It's a helpful reminder.
This new exchange I still don't get. My friend Lyss posts these hilarious conversations she has with her son, so I thought I'd steal her idea and give it a whirl...
Brennan: "Brennan have grapes?"
Me: "You want grapes?"
Brennan: "Yes"
Me: "How do you ask?"
Brennan: "Peas Mommy"
I cut up grapes and pass him the bowl.
Brennan screaming and crying: "NOOOO!! I don't like grapes!"
Me: "Okay, Mommy will have them then."
Brennan: "No Brennan wants grapes."
And then he eats them.
When he plays with his tool set, he always says, "Look Mommy! Just like Grandpa!"
If he sees anything with Toy Story, he knows it's his cousin Grayce's favourite and if he sees anything to do with Cars, he knows it's his best friend's favourite. He likes monkeys.
He pretends to cook in his kitchen when I'm pretending to cook in mine.
He tells me what direction to turn when I'm driving and he's usually right!
And last but not least...Brennan makes me laugh when he farts and then says, "Toots" and then cracks up laughing. Look out ladies!
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Seratonin Part 2
Well we're home! It was only 2 nights and 2 days, but they were long. Not necessarily stressful, not like when Brennan was at Mac for 5 days, but difficult. Keeping a toddler occupied in a single bed for 48 hours, ugh. I did it though.
I imagine most people would not understand why that was necessarily a big deal. When your kid is sick, you stay with them. No brainer. Those who know me best expressed their concern for Brennan and immediately then asked how I was doing. They know how I get with hospitals. They accept my anxiety. The day we were admitted, Steve asked what he was doing with work - was he taking the next couple of days off? He knows how it goes. I think he was a bit surprised when I said, "No. I'll be okay."
The nurses remembered us, mostly me I imagine, from the last time we were there. And the time before that when Brennan was born.
I don't remember who said it or where I read it, but somewhere down the line, I came upon the statement that if you 'own' your issue rather than let it 'own' you, then you have more control and you have won. You can take it over instead of it taking over you.
***
Looking back I've always struggled with anxiety. It was embedded in my childhood. Genetic predisposition + instability = one stressed out little girl who many thought would develop ulcers by the age of 20. Back then anxiety in children wasn't as prevalent as it is today, and when I was in my late teens and anxiety really reared it's ugly head, my doctor told me I had a 'social problem' and I shouldn't go out places that made me uncomfortable. "Are you serious? I'm 18!" That was really her solution. I had to get a psychologist to diagnose me with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder before my doctor would recognize it. Now, the statistics are astronomical for children diagnosed with anxiety. I wonder if it's easier for them and their families, knowing there is a biological reason for their often irrational behaviour. Maybe it causes more stress knowing it isn't a stage they're going to grow out of. I am curious what it would have been like for me had someone figured it out sooner and tried to help me. I used to get angry about it but now I use what I know and try to help as many children (and sometimes adults) as I can in their fight against this often taboo issue that really is no different than needing insulin for Diabetes. Organs aren't working properly and chemicals don't do what they're supposed to do. Why is that so uncomfortable for people to talk about?
The long and short of it is that I've come to learn about anxiety through experience and I've studied it at school, read about it, dealt with it with many students. I've had different forms of therapy and medications and herbal supplements. On and off for years I tried to do it on my own, not wanting to deal with the side effects that the prescriptions caused. I was successful for almost a full year. It took an incredible amount of effort and work, but damn I was proud of myself.
And then I got pregnant. Wow hormones change things don't they? It was a rocky pregnancy filled with issues that could very well be a whole other post about the incompetence of some of our health care staff. I had to have a C-section with Brennan and the exhaustion, hormones, and drugs they gave me afterward caused what can only be described as a landslide of anxiety. I was a disaster for at least 2 weeks until the medication kicked in. I woke up on Day 9 and was fine. Completely back to my self. I struggled in the following months with having to be back on medication for my anxiety. I had conquered that mountain and I felt incredibly defeated having to surrender to the dreaded SSRI. I was on and off again, trying to find myself somewhere within new motherhood, but those damn hormones and the lack of sleep, they did me in.
***
Fast forward 11 months. I was trying to wean myself off anxiety meds and one day Brennan got sick. He didn't seem right to me so I took him to the hospital after calling TeleHealth. We sat for hours. The ER doctor said he had pneumonia and sent us home with a prescription. A few hours later I could tell he was getting worse so back I went with him. It took ALL night, literally, all fucking night for a paediatrician to be called in to see him. I won't even get started on the incompetent stream of people who tried to take his blood. The new ER doctor shaking his said saying he didn't know what was wrong. Maybe we should be admitted? YOU THINK?! From there, an ambulance was sent to pick us up from McMaster Children's Hospital. I hadn't slept for almost 2 days at this point, sans Seratonin regulators to boot. The reason the nurses remembered twanged we were in this week, was 1 - Brennan had had an abscess in his lymph nodes and it was an odd case that no one could figure out until that great paediatrician walked through the door that morning, and 2 - the main reason I imagine - his mother was a hysterical basket case, literally convulsively crying on the floor. They didn't understand why i was so upset because he was going to be fine, it wasn't THAT big of a deal in the medical world. He was going to a highly regarded hospital via ambulance with a great team of doctors to treat him. What was this lady freaking out about?
What they didn't understand was that my anxiety...it was more about me than about Brennan. It was about the change in my schedule, the unknown, the inability to control my day and that of my child. I couldn't handle such a sudden detour from life. My brain could not process this situation rationally. At all. I continued to act like a lunatic at Mac. I'm surprised they didn't admit me!
It was then that I realized, as a new Mom, I needed those pesky pills to make the chemicals in my brain work the way they should, because Brennan needed them to. He needed the stability and comfort of a Mom who was with it, so to speak.
I struggled with it for many many months, especially when the side effects started screwing with my life. I felt like I had given in. I read a lot about natural remedies and lifestyle, the stresses of how we live and I know that given the right environment and circumstances, I could be ok without them. But for me, with the job I have and the job Steve has and the life we have chosen, my anxiety is so severe, that it can be debilitating at the first sign of stress. So I have accepted, at times not so graciously, that until Brennan is older and life is more stable...it is what it is. I will swallow the pink pills every morning.
***
And so this time, when Brennan's paediatrician stated those dreaded words, "I'm going to have to admit him overnight", I said, "Okay." I had already packed Brennan's bag before going to that appointment so I'd only had to run home and pack my own, a few extra toys, and away we went. I should admit that I fought off anxiety from 7:30 that morning until his appointment at 2:00 and that I tried all the strategies I had learned over the years. I made it through. The deep breaths, the self-talk, distractions, going for a walk. It turns out, they can work. Who knew?
We got to the hospital and I knew where to go and how things worked. Maybe it was that knowledge that kept me calm - Steve said the third time was a charm :) I explained to the admitting nurse that I had high levels of anxiety and that for me to be functional, I needed some sort of timeline or plan about what would happen that night. She looked at me like I had 5 heads, a timeline at a hospital?! The doctor showed up when he showed up, then you took it from there. I told her that wasn't good enough and she needed to break down the 'what ifs' for me and I asked her a million questions, not letting her off the hook. This was what I needed to be what my son needed. She figured it out.
Thankfully one of the incredible nurses from when Brennan was born was on the night shift and just her presence was enough to make me relax. She promised me she would take good care of him throughout the night. I knew I didn't have to worry. I had a plan. And that nurse. My cousin came to stay with me until Steve got home from work, because I needed someone to distract me until the doctor did come. She's a saving grace. Never judgemental, always supportive. I stayed for 2 nights, no problems. There were unknowns and surprises but I prepared myself and I was okay!
I imagine it sounds quite trivial to most people but there's undoubtedly someone out there who will one day read this and feel relieved that they're not the only one. That's how I feel every time someone I'd never expected, opens up to me about their experiences. I always feel better sharing parts of my story because every time I do, I get just that little bit stronger.
Anxiety - 10 984 LeeAnn - 1
I imagine most people would not understand why that was necessarily a big deal. When your kid is sick, you stay with them. No brainer. Those who know me best expressed their concern for Brennan and immediately then asked how I was doing. They know how I get with hospitals. They accept my anxiety. The day we were admitted, Steve asked what he was doing with work - was he taking the next couple of days off? He knows how it goes. I think he was a bit surprised when I said, "No. I'll be okay."
The nurses remembered us, mostly me I imagine, from the last time we were there. And the time before that when Brennan was born.
I don't remember who said it or where I read it, but somewhere down the line, I came upon the statement that if you 'own' your issue rather than let it 'own' you, then you have more control and you have won. You can take it over instead of it taking over you.
***
Looking back I've always struggled with anxiety. It was embedded in my childhood. Genetic predisposition + instability = one stressed out little girl who many thought would develop ulcers by the age of 20. Back then anxiety in children wasn't as prevalent as it is today, and when I was in my late teens and anxiety really reared it's ugly head, my doctor told me I had a 'social problem' and I shouldn't go out places that made me uncomfortable. "Are you serious? I'm 18!" That was really her solution. I had to get a psychologist to diagnose me with a Generalized Anxiety Disorder before my doctor would recognize it. Now, the statistics are astronomical for children diagnosed with anxiety. I wonder if it's easier for them and their families, knowing there is a biological reason for their often irrational behaviour. Maybe it causes more stress knowing it isn't a stage they're going to grow out of. I am curious what it would have been like for me had someone figured it out sooner and tried to help me. I used to get angry about it but now I use what I know and try to help as many children (and sometimes adults) as I can in their fight against this often taboo issue that really is no different than needing insulin for Diabetes. Organs aren't working properly and chemicals don't do what they're supposed to do. Why is that so uncomfortable for people to talk about?
The long and short of it is that I've come to learn about anxiety through experience and I've studied it at school, read about it, dealt with it with many students. I've had different forms of therapy and medications and herbal supplements. On and off for years I tried to do it on my own, not wanting to deal with the side effects that the prescriptions caused. I was successful for almost a full year. It took an incredible amount of effort and work, but damn I was proud of myself.
And then I got pregnant. Wow hormones change things don't they? It was a rocky pregnancy filled with issues that could very well be a whole other post about the incompetence of some of our health care staff. I had to have a C-section with Brennan and the exhaustion, hormones, and drugs they gave me afterward caused what can only be described as a landslide of anxiety. I was a disaster for at least 2 weeks until the medication kicked in. I woke up on Day 9 and was fine. Completely back to my self. I struggled in the following months with having to be back on medication for my anxiety. I had conquered that mountain and I felt incredibly defeated having to surrender to the dreaded SSRI. I was on and off again, trying to find myself somewhere within new motherhood, but those damn hormones and the lack of sleep, they did me in.
***
Fast forward 11 months. I was trying to wean myself off anxiety meds and one day Brennan got sick. He didn't seem right to me so I took him to the hospital after calling TeleHealth. We sat for hours. The ER doctor said he had pneumonia and sent us home with a prescription. A few hours later I could tell he was getting worse so back I went with him. It took ALL night, literally, all fucking night for a paediatrician to be called in to see him. I won't even get started on the incompetent stream of people who tried to take his blood. The new ER doctor shaking his said saying he didn't know what was wrong. Maybe we should be admitted? YOU THINK?! From there, an ambulance was sent to pick us up from McMaster Children's Hospital. I hadn't slept for almost 2 days at this point, sans Seratonin regulators to boot. The reason the nurses remembered twanged we were in this week, was 1 - Brennan had had an abscess in his lymph nodes and it was an odd case that no one could figure out until that great paediatrician walked through the door that morning, and 2 - the main reason I imagine - his mother was a hysterical basket case, literally convulsively crying on the floor. They didn't understand why i was so upset because he was going to be fine, it wasn't THAT big of a deal in the medical world. He was going to a highly regarded hospital via ambulance with a great team of doctors to treat him. What was this lady freaking out about?
What they didn't understand was that my anxiety...it was more about me than about Brennan. It was about the change in my schedule, the unknown, the inability to control my day and that of my child. I couldn't handle such a sudden detour from life. My brain could not process this situation rationally. At all. I continued to act like a lunatic at Mac. I'm surprised they didn't admit me!
It was then that I realized, as a new Mom, I needed those pesky pills to make the chemicals in my brain work the way they should, because Brennan needed them to. He needed the stability and comfort of a Mom who was with it, so to speak.
I struggled with it for many many months, especially when the side effects started screwing with my life. I felt like I had given in. I read a lot about natural remedies and lifestyle, the stresses of how we live and I know that given the right environment and circumstances, I could be ok without them. But for me, with the job I have and the job Steve has and the life we have chosen, my anxiety is so severe, that it can be debilitating at the first sign of stress. So I have accepted, at times not so graciously, that until Brennan is older and life is more stable...it is what it is. I will swallow the pink pills every morning.
***
And so this time, when Brennan's paediatrician stated those dreaded words, "I'm going to have to admit him overnight", I said, "Okay." I had already packed Brennan's bag before going to that appointment so I'd only had to run home and pack my own, a few extra toys, and away we went. I should admit that I fought off anxiety from 7:30 that morning until his appointment at 2:00 and that I tried all the strategies I had learned over the years. I made it through. The deep breaths, the self-talk, distractions, going for a walk. It turns out, they can work. Who knew?
We got to the hospital and I knew where to go and how things worked. Maybe it was that knowledge that kept me calm - Steve said the third time was a charm :) I explained to the admitting nurse that I had high levels of anxiety and that for me to be functional, I needed some sort of timeline or plan about what would happen that night. She looked at me like I had 5 heads, a timeline at a hospital?! The doctor showed up when he showed up, then you took it from there. I told her that wasn't good enough and she needed to break down the 'what ifs' for me and I asked her a million questions, not letting her off the hook. This was what I needed to be what my son needed. She figured it out.
Thankfully one of the incredible nurses from when Brennan was born was on the night shift and just her presence was enough to make me relax. She promised me she would take good care of him throughout the night. I knew I didn't have to worry. I had a plan. And that nurse. My cousin came to stay with me until Steve got home from work, because I needed someone to distract me until the doctor did come. She's a saving grace. Never judgemental, always supportive. I stayed for 2 nights, no problems. There were unknowns and surprises but I prepared myself and I was okay!
I imagine it sounds quite trivial to most people but there's undoubtedly someone out there who will one day read this and feel relieved that they're not the only one. That's how I feel every time someone I'd never expected, opens up to me about their experiences. I always feel better sharing parts of my story because every time I do, I get just that little bit stronger.
Anxiety - 10 984 LeeAnn - 1
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
Serotonin Part 1
I do not have time to write about how much I kicked Seratonin's ASS today, because Brennan and I are cozied up ready to sleep in our hospital bed. We're in isolation for RSV which has meant no room sharing so far. Here's hoping for a quiet night other than the every 2 hour medication interruptions. Our nurse is fabulous!
More on my victory to come...
More on my victory to come...
Saturday, 14 January 2012
A Top 10 from this Week
1. I made it to the gym. 3 count 'em, 3 times this week. I was tired and it hurt but it felt great! I got there and was all of a sudden full of energy and ready to give it. I quickly became aware of how weak my body was when using weights, but that's what I get for not going for almost 2 months.
2. I made time for ME this week. With Steve on nights and Brennan in bed on time, I poured myself some wine (because it's good for your heart you know) and read my Book Club book. The dishes sat until i was ready. So did the laundry. I finished the book (and coincidentally the dishes and laundry) which is great because I hadn't finished the last two on time. The best part of finishing the book is the 'meeting' with delicious food, cute toddlers making a huge mess and screaming with delight as they chase each other around, and talking with a group of some of the most amazing women I've ever met.
3. A stressful and sad situation with one of my students worked out perfectly after I was sure the system was going to fail him. Organizations worked together and came up with a solution that was in the best interest of the CHILD and his family, regardless of cost and time constraints. It was incredible. I have some renewed faith.
4. I finally made it to McMaster Children's Hospital to donate some of Brennan's old toys and his birthday money to the Ronald McDonald Room in the children's unit. Earlier that day, I passed on my hospital parking passes to strangers. I bought a toaster oven for the kids at work. It felt great to give.
5. Steve installed our new microwave and the stove doesn't fit anymore so that means I get a new one :)
6. I ate lunch at work this week. Every day. Only one day was during the actual lunch hour, but that's one hell of an improvement from 2011!
7. I've done well so far with my January resolution of watching my spending. A couple of 'not completely necessaries', but overall, a huge improvement. I'm contemplating what to choose for February...
8. Brennan put a diaper on Elmo today and then asked me if I wanted him to put one on me! He slept with me all week and we held hands. He counted 7 cars today. He yells, "Yeah laundry" when I bring out the baskets and offers to help unload the dishwasher EVERY time.
9. I feel an urge to be creative. To pull out my scrapbooking box - the one I started while on mat leave. This may very well be surfacing since report cards and IEPs are due soon. The ever popular Pinterest site I just learned about could also be a new outlet.
10. A great football game just ended and I had time to watch it. The Bailey's and Peppermint Schnapps I'm sipping right now is delightful. The soft glow of candles on my dust, crumb, and toy-free table is calming. My pjs are warm. I am happy.
2. I made time for ME this week. With Steve on nights and Brennan in bed on time, I poured myself some wine (because it's good for your heart you know) and read my Book Club book. The dishes sat until i was ready. So did the laundry. I finished the book (and coincidentally the dishes and laundry) which is great because I hadn't finished the last two on time. The best part of finishing the book is the 'meeting' with delicious food, cute toddlers making a huge mess and screaming with delight as they chase each other around, and talking with a group of some of the most amazing women I've ever met.
3. A stressful and sad situation with one of my students worked out perfectly after I was sure the system was going to fail him. Organizations worked together and came up with a solution that was in the best interest of the CHILD and his family, regardless of cost and time constraints. It was incredible. I have some renewed faith.
4. I finally made it to McMaster Children's Hospital to donate some of Brennan's old toys and his birthday money to the Ronald McDonald Room in the children's unit. Earlier that day, I passed on my hospital parking passes to strangers. I bought a toaster oven for the kids at work. It felt great to give.
5. Steve installed our new microwave and the stove doesn't fit anymore so that means I get a new one :)
6. I ate lunch at work this week. Every day. Only one day was during the actual lunch hour, but that's one hell of an improvement from 2011!
7. I've done well so far with my January resolution of watching my spending. A couple of 'not completely necessaries', but overall, a huge improvement. I'm contemplating what to choose for February...
8. Brennan put a diaper on Elmo today and then asked me if I wanted him to put one on me! He slept with me all week and we held hands. He counted 7 cars today. He yells, "Yeah laundry" when I bring out the baskets and offers to help unload the dishwasher EVERY time.
9. I feel an urge to be creative. To pull out my scrapbooking box - the one I started while on mat leave. This may very well be surfacing since report cards and IEPs are due soon. The ever popular Pinterest site I just learned about could also be a new outlet.
10. A great football game just ended and I had time to watch it. The Bailey's and Peppermint Schnapps I'm sipping right now is delightful. The soft glow of candles on my dust, crumb, and toy-free table is calming. My pjs are warm. I am happy.
Tuesday, 10 January 2012
Is it Time to Settle?
I've always struggled with what the difference is between settling and lowering expectations. I've been told more than a million times that my expectations are way too high. For pretty much everything and everyone - work, relationships, friends, family, co-workers, my students, and of course myself. I was reminded today of my little conundrum; of whether I'm unrealistic or if I'm just not 'seasoned' enough to know when it's not worth the fight. It absolutely baffles me.
The lack of resources, money, and support out there for families. It brings me to tears. The unbelieveably high mental health rates amongst children today. In this region. In this country. Everyone always says, "Back in my day, kids didn't have all these problems." But did they? Did we not know? Were they segregated? Are we just more aware now, more educated, or is there something in the environment causing predispositions? I fear that society so utterly messed up that what these kids and their families go through is now actually acceptable.
Please tell me I'm wrong.
Please tell me that there will be more money to help them. There will be more doctors and better interventions and therapies and mandatory training for caregivers and teachers to help them to help these kids. Not everyone is going to research on their own, nor will they know what to do with the information. I want to live in a community where when a parent says they need help, they want help - that there will be someone to give it to them. And that when an adult neglects a child that someone is also there to make damned sure those kids get what they need. Someone just tell me that waiting lists will be less than a year for SOMETHING. Just ONE service. Doesn't anyone high up there in the political or medical world realize these kids are our future and if they are not receiving interventions early enough, it could be too late for them. And for us.
While you're at it, fill me in on when it became acceptable to say, "Well that's just the way it is. There's nothing we can do. That's not our job." When exactly did villages stop raising children? When did it become socially acceptable to not help your neighbour? To turn your back on your family?
Are my standards too high? If it's an uphill battle that will never be won, then how did any social or humanitarian movement fulfill it's goal to bring about change? At what point is one to give up or settle for having 'done their job' when their 'job' is nowhere near enough. Too many kids, not enough money, not enough resources, not enough doctors. The list of ways we're failing our children as a society goes on and on. Yep, environment is an issue, yep there are not so great parents out there, but who comes in to end the blaming game? The only one who loses is the kid.
My brand new teacher, I'm-going-to-save-the-world-one-child-at-a-time glasses, well those were broken years ago. I now have accepted that I cannot fix them all, certainly not by myself. I've also learned that it's sure as hell not within me to just stop trying! I'm constantly told I should do what I can in the 6 hours I have them each day and hope that I've made a difference. I think inthere lies the problem. After a few years, it just is expected that those "I will make a difference. A real difference" type of attitudes, well, you just learn there are too many and not enough of you. On my long, hard days I feel that maybe they are right.
And then I see my students and their smiles and I get their hugs and I see the hope in their eyes...the pleading for me to take control for them and make them safe, just for a little while. People say they don't know how I teach the class I do. That if they got paid double, they'd never do it. They just couldn't - the defiance, disrespect, foul language, the destruction, the violence...day in and day out. I have days where I think I can't either. I'm not naive or egocentric enough to think that there aren't people out there who could do a better job than I, because I know there are.
When do my high expectations for the care of my students become TOO high?
And at what point do I settle into accepting what I know deep down somewhere in my stubborn nature, what they already know?
Then I think you know what? They're the ones who are wrong. Expectations for all children should be high, for their care at home, in the medical community, the social community, and the school community. I remember being told many times..."uh there's no way they can do that activity." There were some art lessons that yep, not a chance. But there were many others in Language and Math and you know what, most of them did! Never before had they, but I didn't give up and they worked their angry "I hate you Miss Hall. This is stupid" tails off and they often shocked themselves with all they could do. Without high expectations, where would we be?
So I think I'll just stock up on wine and try to make it to the gym (hoping for sanity here), and I'm going to keep those expectations of mine high. Many say to set them lower so that I won't be so disappointed or burn out too fast. I've worked on setting more appropriate academic ones, learned to be more flexible, but I will NOT lower my expectations for adults. I will continue to fight for my kids and I will work to raise THEIR expectations, because it's not about me being disappointed...it's the kids that suffer.
I'm not much of a settler. Anyone who really makes a difference never is. (My friend said I should give myself more credit, so I just did. For her.) My teaching partner said, "Wow! I ran most of the class today and what you do is hard. At the end of the day, I just wanted to sit down." That was one of the most meaningful compliments for me. So thank you for that Kim.
If you're looking for a new charity or cause to support, consider Mental Health Associations in your area. Let's get these kids and their families some help. No one should be told there's nothing out there for them while they wait on wait lists.
The lack of resources, money, and support out there for families. It brings me to tears. The unbelieveably high mental health rates amongst children today. In this region. In this country. Everyone always says, "Back in my day, kids didn't have all these problems." But did they? Did we not know? Were they segregated? Are we just more aware now, more educated, or is there something in the environment causing predispositions? I fear that society so utterly messed up that what these kids and their families go through is now actually acceptable.
Please tell me I'm wrong.
Please tell me that there will be more money to help them. There will be more doctors and better interventions and therapies and mandatory training for caregivers and teachers to help them to help these kids. Not everyone is going to research on their own, nor will they know what to do with the information. I want to live in a community where when a parent says they need help, they want help - that there will be someone to give it to them. And that when an adult neglects a child that someone is also there to make damned sure those kids get what they need. Someone just tell me that waiting lists will be less than a year for SOMETHING. Just ONE service. Doesn't anyone high up there in the political or medical world realize these kids are our future and if they are not receiving interventions early enough, it could be too late for them. And for us.
While you're at it, fill me in on when it became acceptable to say, "Well that's just the way it is. There's nothing we can do. That's not our job." When exactly did villages stop raising children? When did it become socially acceptable to not help your neighbour? To turn your back on your family?
Are my standards too high? If it's an uphill battle that will never be won, then how did any social or humanitarian movement fulfill it's goal to bring about change? At what point is one to give up or settle for having 'done their job' when their 'job' is nowhere near enough. Too many kids, not enough money, not enough resources, not enough doctors. The list of ways we're failing our children as a society goes on and on. Yep, environment is an issue, yep there are not so great parents out there, but who comes in to end the blaming game? The only one who loses is the kid.
My brand new teacher, I'm-going-to-save-the-world-one-child-at-a-time glasses, well those were broken years ago. I now have accepted that I cannot fix them all, certainly not by myself. I've also learned that it's sure as hell not within me to just stop trying! I'm constantly told I should do what I can in the 6 hours I have them each day and hope that I've made a difference. I think inthere lies the problem. After a few years, it just is expected that those "I will make a difference. A real difference" type of attitudes, well, you just learn there are too many and not enough of you. On my long, hard days I feel that maybe they are right.
And then I see my students and their smiles and I get their hugs and I see the hope in their eyes...the pleading for me to take control for them and make them safe, just for a little while. People say they don't know how I teach the class I do. That if they got paid double, they'd never do it. They just couldn't - the defiance, disrespect, foul language, the destruction, the violence...day in and day out. I have days where I think I can't either. I'm not naive or egocentric enough to think that there aren't people out there who could do a better job than I, because I know there are.
When do my high expectations for the care of my students become TOO high?
And at what point do I settle into accepting what I know deep down somewhere in my stubborn nature, what they already know?
Then I think you know what? They're the ones who are wrong. Expectations for all children should be high, for their care at home, in the medical community, the social community, and the school community. I remember being told many times..."uh there's no way they can do that activity." There were some art lessons that yep, not a chance. But there were many others in Language and Math and you know what, most of them did! Never before had they, but I didn't give up and they worked their angry "I hate you Miss Hall. This is stupid" tails off and they often shocked themselves with all they could do. Without high expectations, where would we be?
So I think I'll just stock up on wine and try to make it to the gym (hoping for sanity here), and I'm going to keep those expectations of mine high. Many say to set them lower so that I won't be so disappointed or burn out too fast. I've worked on setting more appropriate academic ones, learned to be more flexible, but I will NOT lower my expectations for adults. I will continue to fight for my kids and I will work to raise THEIR expectations, because it's not about me being disappointed...it's the kids that suffer.
I'm not much of a settler. Anyone who really makes a difference never is. (My friend said I should give myself more credit, so I just did. For her.) My teaching partner said, "Wow! I ran most of the class today and what you do is hard. At the end of the day, I just wanted to sit down." That was one of the most meaningful compliments for me. So thank you for that Kim.
If you're looking for a new charity or cause to support, consider Mental Health Associations in your area. Let's get these kids and their families some help. No one should be told there's nothing out there for them while they wait on wait lists.
Sunday, 8 January 2012
Transitions and Work
Tomorrow is back to work. I've just started to get into the groove of being at home and relaxing, and now it's time to switch back. I always have a hard time with transitions. I envy those who can instantly shut off the 'work' hat or the 'parent' hat and be ready to party as soon as it's time. I take at least a week, and probably a few hours of organizing or cleaning, or some other form of controlling like list making.
I became aware of what I was doing last summer when we got to the cottage. I spent the first few hours unpacking, reorganizing, and cleaning. I don't like change, especially in my environment, so to make myself feel more in control and secure, I pull out all aspects of my OCD and I let them shine, much to everyone else's dismay, as they just want to relax and I'm running around like a chicken with her head cut off.
I was embarrassed once I realized what I was doing and why I was doing it. Now I understand that there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I am who I am. I cannot change the way my brain chemistry is made up. I will not apologize for doing what I need to do to make myself comfortable. I will not falter when people make fun of my OCD traits. That's too easy. Instead I will be honest about them and I will advocate for those who can't. I always tell my students that it's ok to be who they are and to need what they need, as long as they are respectful in doing so. And those who cannot accept their differences, aren't worth their time. And they likely have some self-esteem issues to deal with - maybe they have their own issue their are hiding.
It's easy to judge others. It's often impossible to walk in their shoes though, to really understand what they go through, or why they think what they think, why they do what they do. Instead; be supportive, don't make fun of them, think before laughing at their differences, even if you're just kidding around. Instead, embrace their quirks as strengths and recognize that the world needs all types of people to go around. Wouldn't the world be a better place?
I've grown over the years and don't struggle as much with the regularly scheduled changes that come with being a teacher. The anxiety is not as bad but it still takes me a while to wind down. It doesn't, however, take me as long to get back into it. But that's likely because I rarely shut off my 'work' brain. I'm still thinking about my students at the end of July. And thinking of students I taught 7 years ago, wondering how they are doing...
As I mentioned before, tomorrow is a full moon. Wish me luck as we go through another transition at work with staff and programming. With having 7 kids who also don't transition well after just a 2 day weekend...forget 2 weeks off! I have my gym bag ready for a good day where I have enough energy to consider getting back into it after 2 months off (gasp); a bottle of wine for the day I might have, and plenty of martini recipies for the full-moon-Monday-after-2-weeks-off-for-an-exciting-but-stressful-holiday-like-Christmas kind of day I am expecting to have.
Thank you 2 weeks off. I enjoyed you thoroughly.
I became aware of what I was doing last summer when we got to the cottage. I spent the first few hours unpacking, reorganizing, and cleaning. I don't like change, especially in my environment, so to make myself feel more in control and secure, I pull out all aspects of my OCD and I let them shine, much to everyone else's dismay, as they just want to relax and I'm running around like a chicken with her head cut off.
I was embarrassed once I realized what I was doing and why I was doing it. Now I understand that there's nothing to be embarrassed about. I am who I am. I cannot change the way my brain chemistry is made up. I will not apologize for doing what I need to do to make myself comfortable. I will not falter when people make fun of my OCD traits. That's too easy. Instead I will be honest about them and I will advocate for those who can't. I always tell my students that it's ok to be who they are and to need what they need, as long as they are respectful in doing so. And those who cannot accept their differences, aren't worth their time. And they likely have some self-esteem issues to deal with - maybe they have their own issue their are hiding.
It's easy to judge others. It's often impossible to walk in their shoes though, to really understand what they go through, or why they think what they think, why they do what they do. Instead; be supportive, don't make fun of them, think before laughing at their differences, even if you're just kidding around. Instead, embrace their quirks as strengths and recognize that the world needs all types of people to go around. Wouldn't the world be a better place?
I've grown over the years and don't struggle as much with the regularly scheduled changes that come with being a teacher. The anxiety is not as bad but it still takes me a while to wind down. It doesn't, however, take me as long to get back into it. But that's likely because I rarely shut off my 'work' brain. I'm still thinking about my students at the end of July. And thinking of students I taught 7 years ago, wondering how they are doing...
As I mentioned before, tomorrow is a full moon. Wish me luck as we go through another transition at work with staff and programming. With having 7 kids who also don't transition well after just a 2 day weekend...forget 2 weeks off! I have my gym bag ready for a good day where I have enough energy to consider getting back into it after 2 months off (gasp); a bottle of wine for the day I might have, and plenty of martini recipies for the full-moon-Monday-after-2-weeks-off-for-an-exciting-but-stressful-holiday-like-Christmas kind of day I am expecting to have.
Thank you 2 weeks off. I enjoyed you thoroughly.
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