1st High School Trimester Redux - Part 1

Since Logue entered high school this Fall, my anxiety level started increasing exponentially. The voices inside my head keep saying "Now his grades actually count." At first I had to restrain myself from grabbing his backpack and doing his homework for him. Call me crazy, but I've seen the 3rd grade science projects in which the quantum physics applied clearly did not come from the 8 year old.

I want Logue to have all the resources possible for the kind of education he deserves, that any child deserves. Unfortunately, grades sometimes determine the opportunities and homework sometimes stifles the excitement for learning.

A few nights ago, Logue had to sketch a copy of a Calvin and Hobbes illustration as accurately as possible. He tried for 2 hours to conjure up something he thought would be acceptable to turn in to his new high school art teacher. But in his mind he fell short because accurate meant perfect and to him it wasn't perfect. Then came the frustration, the anxiety and the defeatist attitude and BOOM! It hit me - like wearing 5" heels reminds me that I have bunions:

Flash back to 5th grade math class. One day Logue didn't finish a homework assignment. His teacher, brilliant man, decided he'd show Logue a thing or two by putting him out in the hall. That night, Logue didn't know how to do the new homework because uh, he was in the hall feeling stupid and missed the lesson. This went on EVERY DAY for months before I found out. The teacher sure showed Logue. Wait, showed him what? That homework and school can be profoundly castrating?

After the Art assignment melt down and my flashback b*tch slap, I let Logue have some time to just relax and not think about homework. Then I did the unthinkable: I told him that the grade was not worth losing self esteem. If he tried, he tried - even if that means a "D" as in "Dang, so close." If the teacher has some suggestions for improvement, so be it. His grade is not a reflection of WHO he is. I want him to WANT to learn. And anyway, I would be punching out any teacher who doesn't realize how wonderful and brilliant he is. He let out a huge sigh and gave me a hug. *Joy* I still get hugs from my 14 yr old son. Twenty years from now, we're going to remember the hugs, not the grades. (Well, and maybe the image of me socking his teachers with my 5'3" mini self.)

I've always had mixed feelings about homework and grades, probably because I got nothing but A's out of fear and now I'm a pretty screwed up, gigantic, anxiety ball. What are these stressful homework situations teaching our kids?

Cut back to present day, 1st Trimester, Freshman year: For Logue's final exam in English he had to answer the question, "What does it mean to be Educated?"

While I may not be educated enough to answer that question in any coherent fashion, I do know what it DOESN'T mean:

*It isn't that you've memorized the Periodic Table and all the Presidents of America.

*It isn't how many hours your butt was stuck in a desk.

*It isn't your test scores.

*It isn't your pedigree of degrees from Pre-School to PhD.

What kid can even make it into Stanford or Harvard these days? One with a 6.8 GPA? And what does that half million dollar education get them today? A large diploma with an gigantic student loan bill?

We've all stuck our nose in our kid's homework where it didn't belong in an effort to either circumvent an emotional breakdown, boost their chances of getting to be an Ivy Leaguer or (even better) prevent our "perfect parent" reputation from being tarnished by a bad grade in 3rd grade geography. Whether its helping with just that one little paragraph or building the damn model bridge ourselves, sometimes we just to want it to get done already!

Apparently some parents' (not me of course) OVER involvement in homework has become an epidemic according to Alfie Kohn. In "Stop doing the homework, overzealous parents warned," Kohn states this phenomenon has some schools requiring students to complete their work at school to ensure parents are not undermining the learning process. I say yay to that concept. I already did my times tables.

Homework at our home can cause tension, stress and anxiety. I'm not going to let 5 hours of video gaming take the place of what could be more productive, non-comatose time BUT, I will be the first to email a teacher when memorizing states and capitals becomes a 2 hour long process with only Oregon and Washington accomplished while members of my family are losing their voices and handfuls of hair. I have questioned teachers on the validity of an assignment. It does mean crossing that line. You know, the one that puts you on THAT list at the school. So, I'm the Bad Mom - the out of the box, non conventional, trouble maker who questions the curriculum making all the teachers avert their gazes when I walk down the hall.

I can't tell you how many times I've heard, "So, what's going on at home that is affecting your child's ability to do their homework?"

You mean besides the fact that I tell my kid the homework is stupid?

I'm not at the point yet where I have taken on battling the school's homework policy, but there are many parents who have done just that: like here.

Luckily, I have THE BAD MOMS CLUB - to at the very least share my badness, non Super Mom ways and have moms like me to justify my unconventional means of surviving .

note: no teachers were hurt in the making of this blog post.

Parenting - Are SuperNanny and Dr. Phil Steering us Wrong?

I found this article from the New York Times, When a Parent’s ‘I Love You’ Means ‘Do as I Say’ by Alfie Kohn quite thought provoking. As a parent I'm constantly motivated by the desire to keep my kids out of therapy in their adult years as a direct result of my inept attempts to protect, teach and guide. I find myself fighting the urge to "helicopter parent" quite often even though I know better. Somehow that instinct to protect your children from pain and sadness can become so strong, reason gets overshadowed.

The article raises some points that have enticed me to read the book. I've always been a believer in talking with your children so they understand why you have the rules you enforce, why it's important to abide by them and why certain behavior is unacceptable.


Wesley Bedrosian

When Logue was a toddler we impressed in him that crossing any street is dangerous and he should pay attention to signs such as "Don't Walk." We didn't want to just say "No" to him all the time without explaining why. In fact, we did our best to take "No" out of our vocabulary and use words such as "Danger" as more descriptive cues. One day while riding our bikes at the beach (I think Logan was 7) we came to a boardwalk. After several minutes I realized I didn't hear the whir of the bikes behind me. As I turned around I saw Logue stopped at a sign with his Daddy bending down to talk to him. I rode back to find out what had happened thinking Logue's chain came off or he was tired. I looked at J and he pointed to the sign right in front of Logue that read "No Bikes Allowed on the Boardwalk." "He won't disobey the sign," said J. Logue started to cry. He didn't want to break the rules. We couldn't convince him that just this once, breaking the rule wasn't going to hurt anyone. He wouldn't budge. So, we walked our bikes and he was happy following the rules.

However, I have questions after reading the article. Mainly, how does it all work Mr. Kohn? If Bean tells me I'm stupid and I walk away because I'm not willing to participate in a conversation like that with her, am I giving her the message that I don't unconditionally love and accept her? Or am I setting a boundary that teaches her how her behavior affects other people?

I would love all of you to weigh in on your thoughts about Unconditional Parenting vs. well, whatever it is you do. Parent or not, you were parented at one time. Did you feel unconditionally loved and accepted or did it feel that love had to be earned? If you are a parent, have you put yourself in the minds of your children to try to see your love and acceptance from their point of view? Do you reward based on grades, good behavior, high performance in sports? Do you withhold love and acceptance from your child if he/she doesn't meet your expectations?
How do you feel about the exerpt from Kohn's article:

The child psychologist Bruno Bettelheim, who readily acknowledged that the version of negative conditional parenting known as time-out can cause “deep feelings of anxiety,” nevertheless endorsed it for that very reason. “When our words are not enough,” he said, “the threat of the withdrawal of our love and affection is the only sound method to impress on him that he had better conform to our request.” But the data suggest that love withdrawal isn’t particularly effective at getting compliance, much less at promoting moral development. Even if we did succeed in making children obey us, though — say, by using positive reinforcement — is obedience worth the possible long-term psychological harm? Should parental love be used as a tool for controlling children?

Let's talk!

This Girl

Dear beautiful, free thinking, independent yet dependent Bean,

You can be so smart, funny and fun to be around but sometimes the teenager in you comes out and it scares the hell out of me. I feel like I can barely remember the last nine years and I don't want to lose any more time. I guess that's the question I have: Do you "lose" time that has past when memories fade? Or is it something you've gained like a stripe on your uniform of life? Or is it that gray hair that sticks straight up in the middle of your part? I desperately want to hold on to time...make it slow to a pace my brain can keep up with.

It's funny Miss Bean - you regress to younger behavior at times, throwing your tantrums, crying and screaming and yet at others you're spitting out hateful, yet teenager-like phrases. Your favorite thing to say is:
"You hate me and everyone can tell. It's SO obvious."

I'm in awe of you and yet so confused by you. I love all the blogs and businesses you've created. The ideas amaze me and your commitment to your Pet Helping Program filled me with pride. Yesterday, you came up with a business card for your NewsFlash website on the computer and I was floored by how smart and innovative it was.







I've learned a few things from you this summer:

1. I need to work harder on pushing you out of the nest so you can build on your comfort level with separating and becoming independent from me.
   
   
2. You cannot be bribed! (Yes, I have stooped to trying bribes.) It usually backfires.
   
   
3. You are such an independent thinker. While some girls your age are concerned about Manolo Blahniks and Coach purses (I'm not kidding), you are concerning yourself with writing songs, conjuring up skits, having tea parties with the dogs and finding a miniature wheelchair for Pinkie the injured pink puppy.

I hope you never lose that exquisite part of you.

I look at this picture of you and after I throw up, hyperventilate and pour some Visine into my eyes, I hope with every neuron in my brain, that I can be the right mother for you.
Love,
Mama

The Best Conversation I've Had Ever

Yesterday, Bean and I were driving to work (my little children's clothing boutique) and we started talking about her hair. Now just remember, this child is 8 years old.



Me: Honey, I think if you're going to grow your hair out we should trim it.

Bean: Yeah, ok.

Me: I could do it, but maybe we should have Bob at the Barber Shop next to our store cut it real quick.

Bean: Bob? BOB?

Me: Yeah, he used to cut ladies hair at the MAC club, you know where Jujube belongs?

Bean: BOB at a BARBERSHOP!?

Me: Yes, honey, I just think it would be quicker than mommy doing it.

Bean: Mama, THIS GIRL IS OF THE AGE WHERE SHE WILL NOT GO INTO A BARBERSHOP TO GET HER HAIRCUT!

Me: Yes Maam.

One of the True Joys

Logues's school has a phenomenal dance program (thank you Sara, for all your hard work, dedication and for inspiring these kids to move). In fact, during middle school, all the students have to take dance and tap. The philosophy is that it taps into different creative AND critical thinking parts of the brain. I love that! Being a former dancer myself, the hairs on my neck stood up when I watched my first born perform in his first dance piece. I admit, I was nervous. Would he trip over his own feet? Does he know how to keep time to the music? Would he decide he was too scared and sit out?

This is a child who wouldn't do team sports, or sports at all for that matter. So, no packing up all the rain gear into the suburban, standing in the freezing cold to watch the weekend soccer tournament. And I admit I'm not feeling the deprivation one bit. Nope, no soccer mom here and no Suburban either. BTW, I like my Prius in all it's 48 MPG fabulousness, snub snub. But, every mom wants to see their child in the spotlight of some sort...whether it's a science fair, spelling bee, piano recital or Karate promotion. Something where you can say, "See there, that's MY kid." But Logue just never wanted to venture into that spotlight much. We had to bribe him with Legos to perform in his first grade play as a bug in "A Bug's Life." What is it about us parents needing to dress up our children and put them on display? I think that'll be another post.

The wait seemed like the checkout line at Costco on a Saturday. I was breaking into a sweat with anxiety, (oh wait, that's my normal everyday occurrence) when finally, after some deep breathing, I calmed down, looked up, and there he was, in all his glory, dancing his heart out!
Look out, another stage mom has been born.

Logue is a Writing Genius

I love the fact that Logue's end of the year self reflection essay at school was full of snarcastical (combination: snarky, sarcastic, fantastical) quips that even I nor Jay knew he had in him. We are so proud of our son snubbing his school...

OK we're not normally this jaded BUT when your kid's school suspends your 7th grade kid for a bogus plagiarism charge for a WEEK, doesn't talk to the kid first about the "crime", doesn't talk to the parents at all, threatens expulsion to an otherwise extremely compliant, rule-following, A and B student and questions the kid's entire body of work because the kid copied and pasted some facts (not opinion or fiction) and left it in a different font and font color so the passage sticks out like a sore thumb as if to say "here, look! Over here is where I plagiarized! Make sure you don't miss it!" --breathe, mom, breathe--
IT IS ASININE! -- to say the least.
But whenever I get that anger bubbling up, working it's way to my fingers that want to type a really nasty email to the school (like the "You Suck" short and sweet version of an earlier post), I read Logue's essay and all is right with the world.

Correspondence

The adult version of me and the 10 year old version (who's still stuck in me) are at war. It's not so much a multiple personality thing...which might be better since then I could score a ticket to a little vaca in arts and crafts and green jello heaven.
Not so much... It seems to happen when the chips are down and there is so much floating up there in the vast configuration that is my brain and BOOM! I digress. My somewhat witty, articulate thoughts burrow deeper into my cerebral cortex and all that's left are the ingrained thoughts of my much, much younger self. And it's funny, those childish thoughts, emotions and urges just seem to take over. I can't be held responsible for things like calling the neighbor, "grumpy-pants-meanie-old-man" or telling Jay (husband) he's not my BFF anymore.

Of course this started happening after many years of being passionate about my Highly Gifted, teenage son, Logue's education and running into many administrative road blocks. I have read a trazillion books, consulted for countless hours with child psychologists and education specialists and done enough research to have earned myself a degree in child psychology. I have written enough letters, emails, dissertations and education plans to put together a Master's Thesis on how to educate children.

Sidebar: Children should be treated as individuals in school-- not cows in a herd.

So, maybe it's the exhaustion of beating my head against the wall that's pushing the intelligent, grown up me aside when I try to complete an arduous task such as writing a thoughtfully composed letter to Logue's school.

I've started...It goes something like this:


Dear Logue's School Administration, (Names have been withheld from me to protect their wellbeing privacy)
First and foremost, I would like to impress how many wonderful aspects of the school Logue has experienced. The school has many passionate educators who have conquered the arduous task of disseminating a quite challenging curriculum.
However, I am writing to present my dismay with the arbitrary use or misuse of policies and procedures. I expect a school where the philosophy is: "...based on the research of noted educators, especially Howard Gardner, whose work on multiple intelligences revealed the importance of arts-infused curriculum for the benefit of all students," to be apprised of the multiple needs of those types of students.
A private school that touts accepting "bright and highly creative students" with one of the most exorbitant tuition rates in our area is not above criticism. It is a school's responsibility to take the emotional welfare and individual educational experience...

That's about where my brain said SCREW IT and the ten-year-old-me wrote this one:

Dear Logue's School Administration,
You suck.
Most Sincerely,
Claire

At least I didn't swear.

(No Anna, I didn't REALLY send it)