Floormodel’s Weblog

January 18, 2009

lessons learned

I don’t usually talk about news stories. But there’s one I’ve followed and it’s on my mind. Caylee Anthony was a little girl who one day went missing. I know that happens way to often in our world but she went missing and for thirty one days no one reported her gone. I’ll give a tiny bit of credit to her grandparents and uncle and say they may not have known she was truely gone but her mother knew and in the time this tiny life was missing, her mother went out, slept over at her boyfriend’s, got a tattoo, and broke a few laws along the way.  Why this one little girl caught my attention is simple, when she went missing and was finally reported missing, I was starting to count down to the birth of my granddaughter. So my heart broke for the grandparents. Them losing something that I didn’t even understand having yet.

But as I’ve followed this case it’s confused me. Made me ask some questions of myself.

Do I love my children enough to lie for them or do I love them so much that I wouldn’t?

I think it’s harder to love them so much you won’t cover for them or lie for them. 

It’s easy for me to sit here smug, looking into someone esle’s disfunction. I can pick apart the pieces of their lives and then tell them I would never or could never…

I don’t think the Anthonys set out to create a monster, I don’t think they understand now how it happened. But what they did do is forget the boundries between child and parent. They forgot that sometimes we have to let our children face what they’ve done and we have to do it from the begining. When you never hold your children responsible for their words and their actions and when you cover for them or clean up their messes time after time, you don’t teach them you love them or how to be adults.

When you do those things, you let them grow up thinking they can do whatever they want and they don’t understand how to think of  others, not even when “others” are a tiny two year old child.

I don’t think the Anthonys saw anything wrong with covering Casey’s early messes. I know there were a couple times I fought with myself over excusing away my son’s behaviors. And I lost a couple of those fights too. I said “he would never” or “the teacher must just not like him” but I knew that wasn’t it and I stopped myself fast. My boys may have been my little angels but they weren’t that angelic and I knew it. It’s so easy to make excuses, to blame something for your child’s faults. The other kids were bad influences, he forgot he had that gum in his hand. She wasn’t trying to be mean, they must’ve misunderstood.  Excuses are a dime a dozen and I had plenty of change to buy some but I had to make myself put that change away and let my children take the fall for what they’d done (or not done).

I wanted my sons to grow up and be men I’d want to know. To have them become people I’d want as neighbors.  That’s my advice to young parents like my son. Raise your children to be people you’d want as neighbors.  Tell them “no” and teach them early on to respect you and others. Punish them when they need it, hug them when they don’t know they need it. Don’t worry about being their best friend, that’s what their peers are for. Be a parent. Don’t be their overlord or their owner.

I’m not saying  the Anthonys could have altered what their daughter has done. Not my place to say that but they raised a child who never grew up. She never learned “no” and she never learned bounderies. She took what she wanted be it money from her best friend, her own grandparents, or her baby daughter’s piggy bank… she lied about who she was, what she did, and who she did it with. She hurt people on “whim” she made herself more important than anyone else and they let her. Time after time her behavior screamed out for help and they made excuses and covered for her. And now, they still lie for her. They lie to the police, to the FBI, to the media, to us, and to themselves. They give their child their version of love and in return she gives them disrepect and thinly veiled hatred. The child they thought they loved so much that they fixed all her mistakes, took away something else they loved.

 

Look how their story is ending, a dead grandchild, an incarcerated daughter, a lifetime of hell for them.  They may face charges themselves. They’ve lost their friends and their family. They’ve lost their self respect and the respect of everyone. They made this mess and they nuured what they thought was a flower but their flower turned out to be poison ivy and everything their daughter touched is now destroyed. They will never face another day without pain and tears and they will never know exactly why but I bet they l0ok back and realize the whole path could’ve veered differently had they only said “no” and meant it.

I have a granddaughter now. They do not. My son and I have discussed this case often and I must’ve done something right because he wants to be the kind of parent who raises his daughter right by saying no and not making excuses and I have no doubt that the child he and Katie raise will be the kind of person I’d like as a neighbor.

 

We can’t change what we see in the news. We can talk about it, like I do on IS. We can watch Nancy Grace or Geraldo although I can’t for the life of me understand why anyone watches Geraldo and  I’m not allowed to watch Nancy Grace because it makes me yell at the tv. We can gossip over these people at work or at play but unless we take their lessons to heart someday we’ll be reading about another case, another family, another trgedy. 

I’m a grandparent now, a role I take seriously. But I was a mother first and the hardest part of parenting is the part I’m glad I did.

If you haven’t read about Casey Anthony, please do. And if you’re the praying sort please offer up a prayer for her parents. They still don’t understand and when they do it will destroy them. They thought they loved their daughter so much that they covered for her, but they needed to love her enough to let her fall.

June 12, 2008

discombobulation

I just got back from a nice trip. I won’t call it vacation because everyday life went on around me and there were no rides. I just plopped myself down in the middle of other people’s lives.  I got to spend ten days with a houseful of people I care a lot about. One of my top three people on this planet lives there and shared his couch, books, and closet space with me. I called it going to ‘The Land of the Giants’. Ten days is much shorter than you’d think. It was a wonderful time and I miss it already.

I’m back home now and I have to catch up a little.  My older son missed me, my younger son probably did but he’ll never let on that he did. He’s mad at me right now, I’m pretty sure I bear some blame.

We were enjoying a comfortable silence until last night.  We’d just eaten dinner when I asked him if he wanted to play poker for dishes. He declined so I told him “fine then you do the dishes” … he was not amused by me pointing out that if he’d agreed to play at least he’d have had a 50% chance of not doing them. By declining he bumped it to 100% chance of doing them. 

I love poker. It’s official. My love affair with the game is solidified. I got to play for chores and for cash on my trip.  I loved them both, I even loved watching it on tv. It’s more fun to watch it on tv with someone to talk to about it.  

The cash tourneys were more exciting but those few ‘no dishes’ nights were priceless. Sometimes it’s not about winning every time, it’s more about savoring those few times I did. I’m still savoring it. 

My first “real” poker experience I took third, how cool is that. There were only ten players in the sit-n-go but that’s seven I beat out.  Not bad considering my hands shook the whole time, I was so nervous. I knew I’d make mistakes. I just wanted to keep them at few and far between.  The last time I played at the poker place there was one hell of a storm brewing outside. There’d already been a few storms and tornado watches. We don’t get a lot of tornadoes or tornado warnings around here, I went into weather junkie mode. 

The first time the sirens went off I was kind of giddy. Like a kid after an ice storm that got us a few days off of school.  I was checking the weather online every sixty seconds and looking out the doors and windows.  By the time we were playing poker on Sunday I’d gone from excited newbie to old hand.  Until the sky went black. We even lost power for a few minutes. It came back on and we resumed playing. I got third again but I got to have my shoulders rubbed a couple times while I was playing and that made it worth it :)  

After getting back to the house the power went out there. Not a good thing. There were disgruntled people all around the area. We were originally told that power would be restored by 4pm Tuesday. Ut oh! 

When the going gets tough, the tough get going …. outside with a football and a soccer ball. I had a great trip (I think I might’ve said that already huh?) this time, outside with all five of us tossing the football and kicking the soccer ball, it is one of my favorite memories. It was fun. We cracked wise, made comments about us older ones breaking a hip or the lazier among us pulling muscles. We teased, taunted, laughed, and chatted. For me it was as comfortable as home.  It got dark quickly and we headed in for some poker under the warm glow of a flashlight hung from a hook in the ceiling. We didn’t play for chores or money, we played for insults and bragging rights.  The power returned late the next day and tvs went on and computers were booted and the washing machine and dryer were turned back on.  It was still warm and friendly, although a little sad as I was leaving the next morning. That time without power ranks up there with my fondest mental postcards.

To quote a couple of someones I like a whole lot “it was awesome!”  

~~~~~~~~~~~

I’d gotten a couple messages asking me why I haven’t been blogging. That’s why. I was off on adventure, enjoying myself. Life was too much fun to even think of blogging and that’s really not a bad thing. I got to spend ten days with my best friend… I’m a very lucky woman.

May 11, 2008

when’s the Bad Mother Day?

Filed under: early morning thoughts — floormodel @ 10:35pm05
Tags: , ,

and does Hallmark sell cards for it?

 

I hate Mother’s Day. I wasn’t raised by a sit-com Mom.  My Mom didn’t make me cookies and teach me how to shave my legs.  We didn’t have Mother/Daughter shopping trips or days at the hairdressers.  A really good Mother’s Day was one where she wasn’t there. 

Please understand that I’m talking about the Mom I had then, not the one I have now. Two seperate people.  Just in the same body. Untreated mental illness is hell. Not just for the person with it, also for their families.  The Mother I have now isn’t the one I had then but there’s still enough of the old one in her for me to keep my distance. The only reason I can come to grips with it is my faith in God tells me I have to let it go. I won’t forget and trust me…there are no notes of love sent from me to her.  God’s okay with that, he tells me to turn the other cheek and I do, by letting it go. God doesn’t expect me to place my turned cheek within kicking range and I don’t.

I refuse to celebrate what she wasn’t. Which is why I hate Mother’s Day. Every store front in the mall is a guilt trip for those of us who don’t love good old Mom. We cringe when asked what we’ve gotten her. I’ve learned to say “just the usual” and smile.  I’ve learned to see the humor in it all but then today hits.  It kind of makes Mother’s day a down day when you know the Mother you have isn’t worth the price of a stamp.  I pretty sure my Brother puts my name on the card but no one’s fooled.

I know I’m not the only person out there who views Mother’s Day from jaded eyes.  We’re not alone, there’re quite a few who don’t reach for the phone or send Mom a dozen flowers and a ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ t-shirt.  Mother’s Day has always been iffy for me.

But I’m lucky in a sense, maybe I don’t celebrate my Mother but my children celebrate me. That’s pretty cool :) This year I have the inside scoop on my gifts too. I just happened to be in Barnes & Noble with my sons and we pretended I didn’t pick out two books I really want and leave then sitting on a table. If they picked them up, well maybe they wanted to read them?  One’s being reserved for my plane trip, the other’s fair game (odds are I’ll be reading it by 9pm). Then we pretended they weren’t standing in line behind me holding said books. I, of course, had to buy a tide me over until Mother’s Day book. It’s cruel and inhuman to let me go in a book store and not buy a book. 

I am pretty jazzed about the books but the trip to the mall was really my gift. The three of us, and Katie, joking, talking.. it was wonderful. It may not happen again so I’m savoring it still. I’m a lucky woman and a blessed Mom.  It balances today out a little.

  

an off shoot:

one of the best Mother’s Day’s gifts I’ve ever gotten was the first year I was a solo Mom to Burg. I got flowers and I had no idea who’d sent them.  Then I read the card, which I still have, and it was from my then soon to be ex mother-in-law. She told me that I would always have a special place in their family because I was Burg’s Mother. She said thank you for bringing him into the world for them to love.

In August I’m going to become a Grandmother to a Granddaughter. I took a leaf from my exMother-in-law’s book and got Katie a gift and a card for the Mother-to-be. She will always have a special place in our family for bringing her daughter into the world for us to love.

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