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May 16 Prom dayOkay, so I'm really not that good about coming here and writing regularly.... I'm sorry. I think that this blog has outlived it's usefulness. For the most part, I write here for my sister, but I've discovered Facebook and she's there too. Not only that, but a lot of others in the family, most of whom I've never had any regular contact with, are also there. I'm getting to know distant cousins while they do their own thing. It's unobtrusive and voyeuristic, but it's also fun.
Gina has decided to delete her My Space and MSN Live blogs on June 1, and I think that I'll do the same... if I can figure out how, that is. If there is actually someone out there reading here that I don't know about... or if you really think you'll miss this occasional rambling, please take this opportunity to let me know. Otherwise, don't be surprised to see it just fade away.
And now for unfinished business... As it turned out, that Sunday two weeks ago really was a beautiful day for baseball. Austin and Clarkson easily prevailed in the first game, which went quickly and smoothly, securing their position in the play-offs. We all still felt pretty good and were enjoying the day at that point, so we decided to hang around for the second game. That one ended up going an extra inning, but Clarkson pulled out another win. All in all, it was an exciting and pleasurable day. We got to see Aunt Sarah and Uncle Dave, who were there with their younger son, Tanner, who just turned 17 last month. It was nice to see them again and to catch up a little bit.
Today is Jacob's prom. We picked up his tuxedo Wednesday night. It looks great... he looks so grown up.... I kind of wished he'd gone with all black, since he hadn't yet asked Molly to go to prom with him when he ordered it, and didn't know what color her dress was so that he could match her. Instead he chose platinum for his vest and tie. It's a very light silvery color, which is nice, but I'm not sure how well it's going to go with Molly's hot pink dress. We'll see. Too late now to change it, so it is what it will be.
We (Jacob and I) were at the school until 10:30 last night setting up game tables for the after prom party. We have two fooseball tables, a pocket pool table, ping-pong, and air hockey. We will also have inflatable Sumo wrestling, jousting, and a mechanical bucking bull set up in the gym. In the band room, there will be a variety of video games, including Dance, Dance Revolution and Guitar Hero. I have no idea where they are setting up the Karaoke. There has been a lot of talk about the food too... will there be enough? will there be too much? will the kids even want to eat after their big buffet dinner before the prom? should we get more pizza? should we just concentrate on finger foods? sweet or salty? do we need deserts? I'll be so glad this time tomorrow when it's all over with! I'm also glad that I have a two year reprieve before I have to do it all over again for Erick....
Well, it rained overnight, but it's pretty nice this morning. I spent a few quiet moments on my front porch watching the little gold finches flitting about in the white blossoms on our apple tree. I can here the river rushing by, when there's no traffic on the highway, and I love it in those moments. This is such a wonderful place to live.
I'm going to go get some breakfast now... it's going to be a very long day! May 03 Another weekend in the north country...Good morning and welcome to May, my favorite month. This one will be busy, but I'm still looking forward to it. We spent yesterday mostly in the car, dragging the whole family around the countryside, for what amounted to a lot of wasted time.
We started out at the transfer station, a regular stop every Saturday morning, then continued on into Potsdam to get Jacob's eyes checked. Seems he's fine and the contacts are not bothering him at all. Then we stopped to close-out his Tastefully Simple fund-raiser. I thought that would have gone much better than it actually did, but he didn't reach out and touch anywhere near as many people as he could have, so....
After that we went to Canton and moved some flamingos around. The territory was unfamiliar, the directions inaccurate, and the driver inexperienced, so that took at least twice as long as we planned. By then it was time for lunch, so we spent another hour or so at Pizza Hut.
From there, we decided to look at portable storage buildings and talk about the possibilities for something a little larger with the salesman. We've already gotten an estimate from a local carpenter for a stick-built 20'x 20' single story building with three windows and a door to be built on a slab already in our yard. Looks like that's the way to go too, like it would definitely save us money and it's much more likely to look as though it matches the house.
The idea is to move the game room/guest room outside, but of course I managed to start a huge argument with my husband when I wondered allowed how hard it would be and how much it might cost to add a 3/4 bath. Seems to me that if we're going to invest this much money anyway, that we might actually want to find a way to eventually see some return on this investment, but that is, apparently, the most outrageous idea ever! This is for our kids and our comfort! We should not consider how it might be used after our kids go off to college in... oh... one year for Jake, and three for Erick.
Not only would our guests enjoy a great deal more privacy if we had a guest house, but if that guest house also included a bathroom, it would absolutely have to add to their comfort. That would obviously also provide a rental opportunity after our kids move out. What's Scott worried about? Where will be put the ping pong and foosball tables then? I didn't dare mention that I'd been thinking of making even more changes in the next three to seven years. God forbid, we change anything.
What is it with men that makes them fear change so much?
Moving on... the next stop was a furniture store, instigated by a "Grand Opening" flyer in our morning newspaper. Also, I'm trying to think ahead again. Jacob has been sleeping on a futon for... well, I can't even remember how many years now. A second futon in a common living space is generally how we accomodate any overnight guests. My thought was to move both futons out to the new game/guest room after it's built (which won't happen at all if we can't meet in the middle). If that happens, Jacob will certainly need a bed as will our foreign exchange guest. So, obviously, I was looking for twin size beds. Scott picked out a whole new living room... a lovely couch, love seat , two recliners, and a beautiful coffee table... with a very reasonable $3000 price tag. How much for the two beds? Nothing special... medium quality mattress and box spring with steel frames... $500. We didn't buy anything.
It was getting pretty late by that time, but we were in Watertown, so I dared to suggest that we make a sidetrip to Carthage to see if Aunt Mary was home. Haven't seen her in months. To Scott's credit, he didn't raise a stink about this suggestion, but actually went with it. Of course, when Aunt Mary wasn't home... all that was wrong in the world was suddenly my fault because I hadn't called ahead.
Now, I'm usually a pretty intelligent person, but I do have a nasty habit of leading with my heart and ignoring my head, so I compounded the problem by suggesting at this point that we could go over to see if Adam and Chris were home. We haven't seen them since September! They weren't home, either. After I listened to my husband spew through the next tirade, I just said we should go home. I didn't dare mention that Aunt Helen, Uncle Charlie, and any number of ofther friends and family members also lived in the vicinity.
We stopped one more time on the way home to get something to eat in Canton. Not my choice, but I did take the opportunity presented to remind Scott that we hadn't taken anything out of the freezer in the morning and it would be 7 p.m. before we got home. We did pretty much do away with any leftovers on Friday, too, not at all unusual leading up to our weekly trip to the transfer station. And now we've come full circle!
Today... we're going to go see if we can catch a baseball game (or two, if Scott's up to it) between rival area colleges, Clarkson and St. Lawrence Universities. The Watertown Daily Times had a nice article on the front page of the sports section Friday about my cousin, Austin, who pitches for Clarkson. Today may be his last college baseball experiece. He'll pitch in the first game of the double-header. If they win either game today, Clarkson will advance to the playoffs next week in Troy. If St. Lawrence wins both games, though, they go to the playoffs instead. They split yesterday's double-header. We're hopeful for Clarkson and for Austin. While he only has a 3-3 record as a starting pitcher this season, it sounds like he struggled early with poor weather, and that he's improved as the season progressed. He also has some pretty impressive batting stats, some of the best on the team. When he's not pitching, he plays third base.
Looks like a beautiful day for baseball. I'll be sure to let you all know how it turns out!
April 25 Good News!!!I think that I mentioned the 2nd annual Colt's Pride Booster Club Cosmic Bowl-a-thon in my last entry.... Well, yesterday (or maybe it was Thursday), Scott contacted the three school districts immediately next door to ours to see if we could hang flyers there. They were all receptive to the idea and agreed to announce the bowl-a-thon as well as hanging our flyers! I know that may not mean much to others, but we're in a district where the class size is 20-30 kids per grade level. All of those other three schools are larger than ours and two of them are among the largest five schools in the county. We're very hopeful for even the most modest participation from our neighbors. Every little bit helps!
Apparently, our elementary grades have also been bowling in gym class. The good news there is that our bowl-a-thon has been announced at every opportunity during those classes... our club vice president is the gym teacher! She's also the one at the school charged with maintaining our sign-up sheet. The beauty of the plan is that all the kids know her and since they all have to have gym, it makes it easy for them to sign up. Plus, we started way earlier this year than last year, so no one better come up to me and during or after and say, "I wish I'd known...."
This year, I'm more confident than ever that others will see what this fund-raiser CAN be. I was so disappointed with our low turn-out last year, but knew that the potential for greatness was there. I'm glad I didn't give up. I do believe in the good that the booster club can do and I'm trying so hard to get the membership to think bigger and more fun when planning fund-raisers.
Well, off to plant trees nows... no money in this one, just community beautification. It's an opportunity to be seen in the community. We need to be visible. We need people to know that we're out there and that we're doing good things. We need people to believe... the way that we do... that we can make a difference! April 23 What's been keeping me busy....Two more fund-raising events happening this Saturday... another bottle and can drive for the Parents After Prom Party Committee and Colt's Pride Booster Club is also planting trees in honor of Earth Day/Arbor Day. That one should make a nice photo op and I plan to take my camera around town with me so I promise to put up something new to look at soon.
I'm getting excited about the booster club again. For those of you who don't know... my husband started the booster club in our school/community just over a year ago and we've both been very active in the organization ever since. We only had one really big fund-raiser last year, a bowl-a-thon, and it went so well that we decided to make it an annual event. That's coming up in June and we're much more organized this year, have already started to get the word out all over the place, and are all hopeful for a much bigger turnout. Also, we're offering our first scholarships this spring, which will be announced at graduation. There are only two $100 scholarships this year, but this is a project very near and dear to my heart, so I'm hoping that it will grow each year to come. Since it's such a small school two scholarships per class will probably always be sufficient, but increasing the monetary value each year is my goal.
Prom is coming up in about three weeks. Tickets are ready for sale and the activities and prizes for the after prom party have been ordered. Jacob's tuxedo and shoes have been ordered. Molly has accepted his invitation to be his date. Everything is falling into place. That, of course, will be another great photo op... so I'll be sure to take the camera along and share photos here later.
Guess that's about all I really have for now. We've been very busy with all the planning and fund-raising for these events, as well as for Jacob's trip to Europe. Oh, and I did manage to find time to book a vacation cottage in Fair Haven for a week this summer... for our family and Gina's. I can't wait! I hope it's as relaxing as it looks.
In the meantime, I've still heard nothing official about our petition to host a foreign exchange student for the upcoming school year. I'd really feel much better about the whole thing if they'd just contact me and let me know, but I guess they're still waiting for other families to step forward and volunteer. Our school has been approved to enroll six students, but as far as I know, we're still the only family willing to open our home. I joked with the advisor that I'd take two... then promptly went home to figure out how I could work that out. It wouldn't be that difficult, but there has still been no word from the committee, so I'm waiting... ever so impatiently!
March 20 Welcome back, Spring!Today is the first day of spring and everything is right in the world once more. I love spring and our snow is almost gone and today I'm going to see my sister. It just doesn't get any better than that. March 07 Wish me luck!Well, I'm already strapped for time this morning, but it's been so long since I've written that I'm going to try again quickly today. I know it's been too long since last time I wrote I was worried about the kids' report cards and already this week I received their interim reports. They are both doing so well. Jacob is back up to a 97 in English, but has dropped to an 81 in French. Guess you can't have everything! Erick still has a 100 in Biology and now also in social studies. His grades are so high, it's really hard to imagine anyone doing better, but there are a lot of really bright kids in his class. It's good. It keeps him working hard and striving for his very best.
We signed Jacob up yesterday for an SAT Prep class at Clarkson University. He did okay on his PSAT... scoring better than 81% of juniors nationawide, but only better then 51% in the critical reading section. He did far better than I would have expected on the writing section and, as always, excelled in math. I'm hoping there will be space enough for him in the prep class so that he can get some pointers and practice to bring up the critical reading part, but if he doesn't get in, then he'll have to just do his best and hope for the best. I don't even really know what kind of scores most colleges are looking for these days and he really still has no idea what college he wants to go to.
Today, we're off to do a bottle and can drive to benefit the After Prom Party. Then we have to move some flamingos around. The weather is good... kind of on the warm side (probably seasonable, but warmer than it has been here lately), so I'll take it.
Scott bought a new car this week. He likes it a lot and is very happy to be closer to the road again. He hated driving my old Caravan... too high for him... said it bothered his back. Of course, the Caravan was about on it's last leg anyway. It's got over 200,000 miles on it and the body is pretty rusted (a side effect of New York winters and we don't have a garage), it would often throw the drive belt if it was raining or the roads were very wet, the hatch latch liked to stick and fell off this week, and it leaked power steering fluid. If I'm lucky, it's in good enough shape (body-wise) to pass inspection. Then we can try to sell it for a couple hundred bucks. If not, then hopefully, there will be a junk yard out there somewhere that will take it off our hands.
My big news for this week is that we got a letter from the school asking people to consider opening their homes and hearts to a foreign exchange student for the upcoming school year. I've always wanted to do this. I talked to my guys and they were actually all surprisingly open to the idea, so I sent a letter of interest to the three people at the school, who are apparently coordinating the program. There are three students coming to our district, a 15-year old Vietnamese boy, a 16-year old Danish girl, and an 18-year old Serbian girl. Ideally, we'd like to host the boy, since we have boys and that would be the easist adjustment for all of us, but I did tell them that our circumstances would allow for us to accept a girl if that's where the greatest need is. Either way, we have an extra bedroom, so we can make sure that this student has a space of their own and can get away from the rest of us when necessary. We would have no trouble furnishing it suitably for a teenager and feel that we can provide well otherwise for another child. We could learn so much from this type of experience and we could share so much through this type of experience.
If anyone has horror stories about exchange students, I'm listening. If anyone has success stories about exchange students, I'm still listening. I'm willing to hope for the best, anticipate the worst, and hope we meet somewhere in the middle. I don't expect it to be an easy adjustment for anyone, but these students are coming and they have to live somewhere. My house is not so bad really and my family is pretty stable most days. Everybody has their own dysfunctions, though, and I don't think that our's are any worse than anyone else's. I mean, we don't drink (well, very rarely), or smoke, or do drugs, or gamble. We spend a lot of time together as a family, eat meals together, play games and cards together, watch television and movies together, and do everything possible to accommodate the kids in all of their extra-curricular pursuits. We are in a pretty good place right now and we're feeling strong as a family, financially and emotionally. We can do this. I think we can do this well.
I have to go now... must drive all around the township looking for bottles and cans people don't mind giving up to keep our kids safe and sober on prom night. Wish me luck! February 07 Teens will be teens...Oh, I'm so sorry to hear that Becky H. is already walking on the wild side of life. We always hope that the kids we know will be smart enough to avoid destructive behaviors or, at the very least, to recognize that they are NOT behaviors that should be openly bragged about. For those of us who actually do survive our wild, sordid teenage years, there's so much "living down" to do afterward... so much wondering how much we should tell our children about what we did and how we lived and how to turn that experience into advice and warnings. I imagine she'll be sorry soon, but it's probably already too late.
As for my teens... no reason to worry about those report cards really. I thought again that there might be when I finally got them on Tuesday night, only to find out that they had been carrying them around since Friday. No wonder the schools feel that they have to mail them these days. If straight-A students don't hand them over to Mom and Dad, just imagine how hard it is to get it from the poor student who struggles for Cs and Ds.
Jacob did drop six points in English to an 88 as a result of a very bad grade on one late book report, but his teacher assures us that he's working diligently otherwise. He's still struggling with the online literature class, which will count as English 12 if he passes. IF is the operative word in that sentence. Right now he has about a 67 average, though that did not appear on his report card. He has a couple of quizzes/tests that he did quite badly on, but he assures me that he can retake them to bring up his grades. That's the worst there is to tell. Jacob still managed to pull out a 93 overall average and 93 was the lowest grade in Erick's report card. He's doing incredibly well... HIS major concern (not mine) that he dropped three points in English (to that 93). Of course, he climbed pretty much everywhere else, unless there was no room to move up from the beginning, like in Biology where he's been carrying a 100 average from the start. He also got a 100 in Robotics; 98 in Spanish; 97 in Geometry; and 95s in Phys Ed and Social Studies. All of his teachers are very pleased with his performance and effort and, of course... I couldn't be prouder!
I spent this Thursday afternoon in the hospital visiting Dad, who'd been admitted with pneumonia. He was already on the mend by then, thanks to powerful antibiotics and breathing treatments since the day before. Mostly, he was just tired and miserable and lonely. Yesterday he called me with an update and told me he'd finally slept again for a couple hours Thursday night, and by that time Friday afternoon, feeling much better physically, he'd been released.
Jane looked good to me. She had a little more color in her cheeks than when I saw her last. She seemed in good spirits and said she enjoyed her time spent with Todd and Tracy and the kids. She also got to see David twice during her week away and said he's doing well. I know that he's sounded better in the last couple of letters I've received from him.
I talked to Mom yesterday too, since it was her birthday. I really should call her more often. Our relationship seems more relaxed now than it has ever been before. I wonder if that's only in my head because I do so seldom see her or talk to her or if it is really true. I'd like to hope it's real, of course. She was in a good mood. She actually joked about this birthday being a big one... one with a zero at the end. I knew she was turning 60, so no surprise there except that she was joking....
Anyway, Mom told me that Adam joined the National Guard again. Says he's going to do his training at Fort Lee, Va., and that this time he'll be a cook. I guess his work with Jason hasn't been steady and regular enough to bring in enough money and, of course, the day care took much longer to get up and running than anyone anticipated. Still, I'm sorry that this is what's coming out of it. I had hoped his military days were behind him. Isn't he too old anyway? I mean, he is 38 now! I can't imagine that he was ready to give up his surveying job in Albany in favor of being closer to home and working construction when it's available so that he wasn't away so much, and now this is the best alternative he can come up with. At any rate, it seems it's a done deal, so no matter how much I'd like to help... and might finally be in a position to do just that... it's too late. I'm proud of his commitment to country, but he's already done his duty, and now I'm afraid of the cost of this move on his family. I hope it works out well.
Scott went to family court in Canton this week to get the scoop on the arrangement handed down to Michael and Kristie regarding Israel's visitations with Kristie. He didn't really want to go, but since he can't get an honest or straight answer from either one of the parents in this case and he's been charged with supervising said visitation, I insisted that he be there to hear it for himself. It's really the only way to be sure he's complying and acting in Israel's best interest. Good thing he went. Kristie was getting one two-hour visit a week, supervised by Scott. She was asking for two four-hour visits per week, unsupervised. In the end, she was awarded two two-hour visits per week, one supervised by her fiance and the other continuing to be supervised by Scott. Neither she, nor Michael knew that was the decree. Scott needed to be there... that's all there was too it. Furthermore, it would seem to me like a win for Michael, who's opposed to unsupervised visitation, though none of us is exactly sure why.... Of course, Michael does not see it as a win and neither does Kristie. She now wants to have Israel every other weekend. Still seems reasonable to me, but they are not in a mood to be reasonable with one another....
I have no news about C.J., except to be stunned that he still hasn't cashed my Christmas check. Will wonders never end?
January 31 My job as a mother... the way I see itHas it really been two months since I took the time to sit down and write here? How time flies....
Well, not everything changes. We're still buried up to our butts in snow and anxiously listening to meteorologists contemplate the next big storm, a Nor'easter heading our way... projected to hit hard on Tuesday. That's how we measure winter around here. Not by days or weeks or months, but by one snowstorm and then the next.
The best thing about all of this snow is that Jacob is getting a chance to drive in it and to feel the way the car reacts to it. He's been a great driving student so far. Oh, he makes mistakes, but for the most part, he's a good driver and I trust him. One day, I asked him to parallel park behind a van. Tha'ts all I said and he had never done it before, but he proved to be a natural, pulling it off beautifully without any guidance at all. I was impressed... and jealous. I still avoid parallel parking at all costs.
He started flocking friends and acquaintances the weekend before Thanksgiving. It was a slow start and got even worse near Christmas, when he took a week off. At New Year's he started it back up again and so far has raised over $500 and 20 Euros. It's just now beginning to really branch out beyond the people that we know and to stretch into neighboring communities. We still have high hopes for a wild spring with pink flamingos landing in many, many yards throughout the county. It's not raising as much money as he had hoped for but it's still helping and he's not too interested in other ideas. Mostly, I just think he has too much on his plate this year and he underestimated the time and effort that he'd have to invest to make this trip a reality.
I've kind of been on edge for the last couple of days... as I'm expecting report cards any day now. I can honestly say that this is the first time I've ever been worried about what I might see when I open that envelope. I'm not worried about Erick. I know that he's keeping up and doing his best, but Jacob's been slacking off all year. His mind just doesn't seem to be in the classroom anymore.
Basketball, a brand new pursuit for him this school-year, is taking a tremendous amount of his time, especially considering the fact that his actual court time in real games has been minimal. Then he comes home one day with a pledge sheet for a snowshoe-a-thon (which is taking place this morning). He's participating in that with all the other members of the National Honor Society and the proceeds benefit Hospice and Palliative Care of St. Lawrence County. Next weekend he has Science Olympiad and later this month, both boys are competing in a math competition with a groups called JETS. Then he has the next meeting for his People to People trip at the end of the month. There was a good deal of homework assigned for completion before the next meeting. I really hate having to ask again if he's started that yet, but it can't wait any longer. He needs to be reminded and it needs to be done. Jacob also decided to be a part of the school play/musical this year... something else he's never done before. The show is Oliver Twist and he's playing the part of Mr. Brownlow, apparently the largest male part in the entire play with more lines than even Oliver has. This kid just doesn't know how to ease into anything... it's all or nothing for him! Scott and I asked him not to join ANYTHING else without first foming home to ask permission.
Of course, for his being such a smart boy... my Jacob isn't always the brightest bulb on the tree! A couple of weeks ago... for the second time... he was caught watching pornography on the Internet. The computers (we have two) both have Internet access, so they are in a public area of the house, because I am the kind of mother that knows some things are inevitable. Jacob spends a lot of time playing on the computer. It's not unusual for him to be at it for hours on end, especially on a Sunday afternoon, while his father and I sit in the next room watching football. Thing is... I can see his computer screen from where I sit on the couch. I had glanced in several times that afternoon and it really did start out with homework and evolve into a war game before it suddenly took a turn down 42nd Street.
Scott said I couldn't punish him. He said it was all my fault. He said I am too open with my kids and shouldn't talk about sex with them. He's wrong!
I talk openly with my kids in order to let them know that they can come to me with anything. I never want them to keep something from me because they are afraid the topic will be too uncomfortable. I want them to know that there are dangers out there and that I'm aware of them and they should be too. I want them to know that I understand they won't always make the right choices, but that I will always love them anyway. I want them to know that when they experiment with something, I may not approve and there will be consequences, but that doesn't mean I don't understand.
This is no different than getting drunk in the woods with a bunch of friends or experiementing with illegal drugs. I have talked to my kids about those topics too. It doesn't mean that I condone their behavior. It just means that I know they are teenagers and they are eventually going to do something that isn't okay. It's perfectly okay, in my mind anyway, to punish that behavior.
Upon checking the histories, I found that Erick was also viewing pornography online. He denied it, and though he's a very good liar, I explained that I knew better. His brother doesn't use his log-in and even if he did, chances are very good that he'd still be looking at the same sites he was looking at under his own log-in. What's more, Jacob almost never uses our (Scott's and my) computer. He's usually on the kids' computer, leaving Erick to use ours if he wants to play at the same time and I found it curious that my history was intact, but Scott's had been wiped out and Erick almost always uses Scott's log-in on our computer. Also, he's been all-but-begging to be left alone at home whenever we have something to do or we go to watch one of Jake's games. Well, I give Erick a lot of credit for not watching in front of me and for knowing enough to eliminate the evidence, where he thought it might be easily found, but he's definitely not innocent. And, I suppose, in Jacob's defense, he doesn't have the kind of opportunities for privacy that Erick has had.
Scott still doesn't get it. I tried to explain, but I can't really make him see it from my point of view either. I want them to know that there are dangers out there associated with sex. I want them to know that I know they will want to have sex someday anyway, probably sooner than I think they are ready for it. I want them to know how emphatically I believe that should be safe sex. I want them to understand that they are having sex with a girl and virtually everyone else she's ever had sex with and they CANNOT just trust her. She may not even know herself if she's been infected with HIV or another STD. I want them to protect themselves. I want them to also understand the legal issues of consent... including age, indecision and impaired judgement. I want them to understand what situations can lead easily to accusations of rape... what situations are in fact considered rape. I want them to protect themselves. Telling them what the dangers of sex are is not an endorsement of viewing pornography.
On the other hand, I'm not a total prude. I told Scott, if I had just found a Playboy magazine tucked under their mattresses, I probably never would have said anything, but finding out that they're watching all manner of sexual fantasy in triple-X living color is different! Realistically, I also realize that there is nothing I can really do to stop them from viewing pronography if that's what they decide they want to do. I can be more vigilant and watchful, but I'm not always going to be there and when I'm not... well, it's just too easy to find that stuff online. Still, the punishment is not about stopping the behavior. It's about sending a clear message that we do not approve of or condone this behavior. It's about teaching right from wrong... and that's still my job as their mother, so I damn well did punish them!
Scott still doesn't understand.... November 22 Winter WonderlandOh, I know it's not winter yet.... Quite honestly, I'll be sick to death of winter by the time it arrives on my calendar. But today, as I wake again to a sparkling, pristine new two-inch blanket of fluffy white snow, I stand in awe of Mother Nature and her ability to paint such beauty. Hence, I'm inspired to once again exchange my summer waters for the frozen pine-draped moutainside scene I'll be so familiar with myself for the next several months.
This weekend, I think we'll be able to launch Jacob's new fund-raising event. He applied to the People to People Student Ambassador Program to become part of a 40-student delegation from New York to Europe during the summer of 2009. Since he was also accepted, we're now at a point where we need to find a way to pay for the 19-day trip to France, Switzerland, Austria, Italy and Vatican City. He'll spend the next several months studying these countries, their cultures, governments and religions. Then in July, he'll fly to Europe for the experience of a lifetime. He'll represent the United States, visiting in the spirit of peace, friendship and understanding, while tasting famous French cuisine, examining some of the most well-known works of art of all time at the Louvre, climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower (a momentus fete for a boy terrified of heights), touring the Palace of Versailles, cruising a Swiss lake, enjoying a an elegant evening at a concert, visiting a World War II concentration camp in Austria and meeting a Holocaust survivor, then staying with a family in that country to get the most intimate look at their everyday life, and in Italy, he'll see the leaning Tower of Pisa, take a gondola ride, visit the Roman Coloseum, the Cistene Chapel and the Vatican, with an opportunity to meet and speak with a religious or political leader. To me, it sounds like the most amazing opportunity, yet I know he doesn't yet really understand the scope of this experience. He's excited and he definitely wants to go, but until he gets there, I don't think he could ever really understand the impact of walking amid the art, architecture, and history of his ancestors. Here, in the United States, our history is so young... we just have nothing with which to compare the depth of history he'll experience in Europe.
Anyway, as you might imagine, it will be quite expensive to participate in this delegation, so Jacob looked around for some fund-raising ideas and came upon one he thought would be a lot of fun, rather like a game. This kid loves games! So we invested in a large flock of pink yard flamingos, which we intend to split up into five much smaller flocks that will fly around St. Lawrence County for the next several months, nesting from time to time in one yard or another, in an attempt to solicit donations to remove the flock, or to have the flock land in a yard chosen by the donor. Of course, there will also be an option to purchase flock insurance to protect your yard from becoming a nest for the flamingos. We're hopeful that it will sound like a lot of fun to others also and will catch on quickly, inspiring people to send their regards to one another on the wings of a pink plastic flamingo!
If we can get the flyers printed today and laminate our signs to accompany each flock, then we'll be ready to get out there tomorrow and place the flocks in their first nests. So far, they've been in my yard for a week, getting many friends and neighbors to ask questions about what's going on. The bonus for Jacob in this is that he just turned 16 and got his permit, so this fund-raiser will give him many opportunities to get out there and practice his driving. Given the time of year, I can only guess that some of that experience will be in the worst of winter conditions, which is scary, but I know he has to go through it. It's really the only way to learn.
If there is anyone out there reading, who would like to help Jacob get to Europe, please send donations to Jacob Muller at 5 Snell Road, South Colton, NY 13687. If you'd like more information or would like to hear what Jacob has to say about the trip, feel free to contact him directly at Muller7@hotmail.com. For now, wish us luck!
Peace to you and yours,
Sheila
November 01 October SnowThis week, we got the first real snowfall of the season. We've had some flurries during the past few weeks, but nothing that amounted to more than an inch or so and nothing that stuck around more than a day or so.
It's not terribly unusual to get snow in October here in northern New York, especially right here on the outskirts of the Adirondack Mountain Park, but it is a bit unusual to get so much all at once this early in the season. On the other hand, we've all learned around here that if there's a Nor'easter coming in, we're going to get pounded and this storm was no exception.
It rained hard most of the day Tuesday, Oct. 28, then turned to snow late in the afternoon. I left work at 4:30 p.m. and had to clean several heavy wet inches of slush off my car. It was snowing so hard at that time that my car needed to be cleaned off again by the time I finished cleaning it off the first time. I was drenched by then, snow clinging to my hair and clothing, melting quickly as it met my body heat. I tried to wipe my glasses off with a dry napkin from my glove box, but the melting from my hair continued making them wet... making my visibility an issue.
Visibility was an issue anyway, considering the force of the storm around me. A drive that normally takes me 20 minutes or so, took an hour on Tuesday. The plows had not yet been sent out and the temperature was just hovering around the freezing mark. The rain had been coming down hard all day and there were deep puddles everywhere, now filling up with snow. The result was three to four inches of heavy slush on the road. My car being pulled this way and that, I drove home without ever daring to top 40 mph. I had to sneak around a car stuck in the middle of my lane about five miles from home. He was on a slight incline, unable to move forward or back, stuck in a slushy mess... the fire chief and local librarian... a colleague I'd spoken to last week as we both attended a library assistant's conference. I felt bad for his predicament, but didn't dare stop and knew that there was nothing I could do to help, so I drove on.
For the most part, I'd been travelling along between 30 and 40 mph, but that all ended at the edge of the village, five miles from home. As I started climbing up into the mountains, my car started to slip and slide and fishtail a bit. I kept it under control, on the road, and between 10 and 20 for the rest of the drive home. There's only one spot to really watch out for all winter long... a downward sloping curve for me that night. I didn't want to hit my breaks on that curve. I went into it very slowly, but still worried as there were flares at the top of the hill and then I could see a couple of women in my lane a bit ahead of me. I hit my breaks and crawled along past the women, past the tractor trailer jack-knifed half in the opposite lane and half off the road, then past the two other vehicles off the road... one on each side... and finally past more flares and the firemen directing traffic at the other end of that curving hill. I waved to James, who drives the school bus my kids ride. He was sitting on the side of the road behind the firemen. I wondered for a moment how long he must have been there, deciding it had to be at least an hour even if he'd been on the late run as he was still on the bus.
When I pulled into my driveway, I was glad to have made it home in one piece, but thoroughly annoyed that there were no plows out yet. What's wrong with this state? I mean, I know that money is short... I know that the economy is in trouble... I know that this is early for a real winter storm. On the other hand, my television and radio had been warning about this storm for the past two days and the snow had already been falling fast and furious for at least two and a half hours. I heard the next morning that four more tractor trailers had gone off the road in the 18-mile stretch of state highway past my house that night. I really hate driving in slush! Give me smooth, slick ice if you must, but plow the damn slush off the road! Please!!
In any event, the snow was beautiful. The first snowfall generally is. It caused a great deal of damage, of course. Our trees, many still covered with autumn leaves, lost branches all over the place. The snow clung so heavily following the rain, probably hiding a coat of ice too, that the trees just couldn't support all that weight. I got some pictures around my house Tuesday evening and again early Wednesday morning as my sons got out their shovels and made a clear way out of the driveway so that I could go to work. Too bad, really, that they ended up having a snow day, but still had to get up at six in the morning to help Mom out.
Enjoy the photos! The sunshine and warm winds of the last two days have greatly diminished our snowy blanket and it will probably all be gone in a couple more days, but it was quite a sight while it lasted.
September 27 Tattoos upon my soulThe next chapter of my life must certainly be the ugliest of times and it's probably the only year I really hesitate to write about and share. It was during the next year that I made so many mistakes, tried so hard to please others, and took a ride on the wild side. Perhaps a little longer than one year. It was during that time that I did things I am ashamed of, things that I don't necessarily feel comfortable sharing with anyone in the world, much less everyone in the world, for once published on the Internet everyone has access.
I'm a very open and honest person. I have talked and/or written about this time in my life and I don't really have many secrets, but this format is not the place for one to confess all the ugly truths of the worst of times so I'll tell only a few because looking back, I know that I don't really have many regrets in life. There are very few things I would do differently if I had them to do all over again. Mostly, I recognize that even the things that others see as mistakes are learning experiences. You may do something for all the right reasons, or not, and later realize that it was a horrible thing to do or reason to do it, but in the end... even if you learn only that you've hurt too many innocent people and you'd never, ever do such a thing again... well, that's still something.
Like, for instance, after leaving Tony... each of us getting our own individual apartments... I had a one-night stand. I told only one person about that, the one person in the world that I trusted with anything, the one person that I thought would actually be proud of me for doing something so out of character, so brave and so liberated.... I told Gina and she called me a whore. She was not impressed. She did not see this action as brave or liberating. I was so taken aback by her reaction that I swore I'd never do that again. I never wanted my sister to be so disappointed in me again.
Later, because I received a package in the mail, the birthday gift I'd forgotten I ordered for Tony before we split up, and perhaps because I was so terribly lonely without him in my life, I made another very bad choice. I took that gift to his new apartment and offered it to him. I still wanted him to have it. I didn't have any ill feelings toward Tony. I simply felt that there was no future for us.
Seeing Tony again hurt. It reminded me how much I missed him. It reminded me how attractive I found him. It reminded me how much I enjoyed being held in his arms, how much I enjoyed and missed making love with him. It didn't help that he answered the door in his bathrobe, another gift from me. He missed me too and was only too eager to try to rekindle our relationship. Of course, I didn't really want to rekindle anything... I just wanted to date Tony and spend time with him and make love to him. He accepted my terms because he wanted to be with me as much then as he ever had. He was hoping I'd change my mind. I think I may have known that on some level, but I didn't let it get in the way.
We spent some time together for a couple more months, but I was still looking for a future and someone to share that with. Tony was trying to get back to a place and time when I could see him in that role. And then, things got worse. I took a home pregnancy test and it was positive. I was nineteen years old and had a job making about $10,000 a year. I knew I'd need more than that to raise a baby. I knew that Tony was no better off than I was. I began to think about where I'd put a crib in my little studio apartment. I shuddered at the thought that I was going to be a single mom, living on welfare, but I wanted the baby. I had always wanted to be a mother more than anything else in life.
I knew that I had to tell Tony. This was his second chance to be a father too. He wasn't able to be a part of Christopher's life, but I knew how much that hurt him... how much he longed to be an involved father. I wanted to give him that chance. I knew that he would be a wonderful father. He deserved to be a wonderful father.
When I told Tony I was pregnant, he asked me to marry him. I guess I knew he would, which was part of the reason that feeling of dread hung all around me. I had no intention of marrying Tony. Even though I loved him still and also had no intention of keeping his child from him, I couldn't marry him.
I told my mother I was pregnant and that the baby was Tony's, but that I wasn't going to marry him. That moment was only the second time in my life when I felt like my mother understood me. She offered to let me move home with her. I wasn't going to do that either, but the fact that she offered will always mean the world to me.
Nearly as soon as I realized I was pregnant, the morning sickness began. It came on with a fury. It was the worst thing I'd ever felt. I struggled to get ready for work, thinking that it would pass soon and everything would be fine, but it didn't pass and I couldn't go to work. I was too sick for that. I put on a plain black sleeveless dress and sat on my front stoop in the rain. It was cooler outside and, in July, I'd take whatever relief I could get. Besides, I'd never felt comfortable in my new neighborhood, where everyone else sat out on their stoops all the time, and since it was raining, no one else was out and about, so finally, the fresh air was mine. Only problem was that I was completely miserable. At least I could suffer in lonely seclusion with a cool rain beating down on me. Every so often, I'd run back into my apartment to throw up. I felt like I was dying.
It was in that way, on that day, that I met my neighbor for the first time. He had come outside to smoke a cigarette and saw me sitting there, resting my head against the building, my eyes closed, rain mixing with the tears trailing down my face. I'd seen him before. I'd been living here for four or five months, after all, but I always just walked past all of my neighbors and into my apartment. I didn't know anyone here and it wasn't the best of neighborhoods. I had always been far to shy to be the one to instigate a relationship of any kind anyway, even just a friendship.
Kevin was his name. He was a big, black man in his thirties. He was married to a skinny, blond woman that I mostly only saw on the weekends, but sometimes also late at night. I knew that a couple of the little girls I often saw playing in the street were theirs and they had a baby boy too.
Kevin tried to talk to me and I was too polite to ignore him completely, no matter how crappy I felt. After another trip into the apartment to puke, I returned to find him still standing there between the stoop on my house and the one on his. He was sympathetic about my not feeling well. I felt very comfortable with Kevin very quickly. He was just making some polite conversation and chatting about inconsequential things, but after a couple more trips into my bathroom to throw up, he guessed at my condition. I confessed that I was indeed pregnant and found myself crying again, suddenly spilling out all of my fears about the future to my new best friend. He was very easy to talk to and he wasn't judging me, just listening.
A week later, as I was lying in a hospital bed with an IV pumping fluids into me, feeling all alone in the world, wondering how I was even going to pay my rent when I couldn't go to work, I made a very difficult decision, one I never thought that I could make. I thought abortion was wrong. I thought it was murder. I couldn't imagine how anyone could do such a thing. But there I was... nineteen, single, in love with a man I saw no future with, contemplating raising a baby with the help of welfare or, worse, with a complete reliance on the welfare system as I was certain I was going to lose my job any day now. While I was awake, I was vomitting every twenty minutes or so even though I hadn't had anything at all to eat or drink in a week, and when I was lucky enough to drift off and sleep, I'd still wake up every couple of hours to puke again. I was so weak and so tired and so lonely and so scared. I felt like dying, felt like I wanted to die.
Though I had an abortion, I lied to Tony and told him that I'd had a miscarriage. I couldn't bear the hurt and disappointment I knew would shine from his eyes if he knew the truth. I couldn't hurt him worse than I was already by ending our relationship for good this time.
I only saw him once more after that, about five months later, and by then I was living with another man. He knew it was over then. He shared the news that he used as his excuse to come see me... that his father and young step-mother had just had a baby boy... and I cried and he walked away from me for the last time.
That's what the whole next year and part of the one that followed were like for me. I learned so many lessons that became tattoos upon my soul. Mistakes made, regrets accepted, life lessons learned.... They all contributed to making me the woman that I am today.
September 20 Back to the beginning...Living with Tony was both exciting and challenging from the beginning. He was very tidy... something of a neat freak and I was a slob. I liked to throw my coat over a chair when I walked in the door, drop my purse and keys on a table. I didn't really care how long the dirty dishes sat around after we ate a meal. I had never felt it was important to make the bed after vacating it in the morning. Those things got on Tony's nerves. He was constantly running around, cleaning up after me and trying to get me to care enough to clean up after myself.
I had some problems with him too. I hated it when he stepped out of the shower and dripped all over the bath rug, while he thought that's what it was there for. I would invariably go back to the bathroom after he'd showered to brush my teeth and fix my hair and step onto the wet rug in my stockings. At eighteen, I really didn't see that the easy fix for this problem was to put my shoes on before going back into the bathroom. He also just squeezed the toothpaste tube from wherever he grabbed it. I don't know why it mattered to me so much that we roll the tube from the end, but it did... always has... and yes, I really was the slob in that relationship.
Mostly, I could live with those little things and he also put up with me. We were in love, after all. We loved being together. We loved walking in the park, feeding the ducks in the pond, walking all around the city, taking the bus occasionally to a mall where we'd shop or see a movie or get a bite to eat. We always walked slowly because Tony had a great deal of pain from his accident and often still used a cane. We always held hands. We loved listening to music together, but our tastes didn't really coincide. He liked classic rock and I was a country girl from way back... I mean, the older the country, the better I liked it. Still, we'd listen to both, alternately. He found something to like in my music and I could listen to his for a while before feeling the need to return to my roots.
We loved being together and despite our differences, we were enjoying my first and his new opportunity to "play house." He did most of the cleaning and we took turns cooking, since it was something that we both enjoyed. I'd cook during his work-week because he got home so late. On his days off, he'd often make some special dish he really loved and wanted to share with me. He was Italian and loved a certain soup... a pasta and bean soup... that I thought was horrible. He'd often cook traditional Italian dishes that I didn't make for him during the week and, though I still believe I like Italian dishes, I'm a picky eater and often did not care for the things that Tony cooked for us. If only the onions and peppers didn't have to be there....
We were at our best in one another's arms. He was a caring and compassionate lover and taught me so much about pleasuring a man sexually. He also taught me about receiving the pleasure of a man's love and it was with Tony that I first experienced an orgasm. I don't believe that either of us had any complaints about our sex life. It was good... very good.
Fairly soon after moving in together, I got a new job. I went to work for Key Bank in the Consumer Loan Department... a regular 9 to 5 job... doing customer service over the telephone. I loved my job. I loved that my sister worked in the next building and we could get together for lunch. I loved making new friends and feeling like my whole life was growing... growing up. I really felt like an adult for the first time and I loved it.
One cold, windy afternoon, as my bus pulled up to my stop at the park across the street from our apartment, I was surprised to see Tony waiting for me. He should have been at work, but he wasn't. I wondered for a moment with worry what was wrong, but Tony was beaming from ear to ear, so even before I jumped off the last step and lunged into his waiting embrace, I knew that it would be a good night.
All bundled up and shivering from the biting wind, he led me over to a cold stone bench just inside the park. "Happy birthday, Baby," he said as he pressed a small brown box into my hand. I untied the ribbon around it and opened it up with a sense of excitement that was building to match his own. It was a beautiful gold watch, slim and feminine and professional. It was exactly the kind of watch that I wanted... the kind I had described to him... and he had listened to me.
And then I saw the price tag at the back of the box... $120.00. "Oh my God!" I said, without even stopping to think about how it would sound as it came out of my mouth, "I know you didn't spend that much on it!" His happiness visibly faded before my eyes. "Did you?" I asked with panic rising inside me. Truly, I could not imagine anyone spending so much on me at that point in my life and I knew that Tony didn't have that kind of money just lying around.
Well, to make a long story short, Tony did in fact pay full price for that watch, which he bought on credit because he knew how much I wanted one and he really just wanted to see my look of surprise and pleasure when I saw it. He was just like a kid again... so excited to see my reaction that he met me outside on that cold December day, not caring how bad it would feel in his legs to sit on that frozen park bench. He wanted to give me everything I dreamed of and I ruined the moment because no one had ever loved me like that before. No one had ever been that generous with me. I hope that Tony learned from that experience to always remove price tags from gift before offering them to the recipient. I learned to think before opening my mouth and to try to squash outbursts that could hurt the giver of gifts, no matter how generous, for it truly is the thought that counts... whether you love or hate the gift is irrelevant.
When we went into the apartment, I saw that there was more. Tony had decorated with balloons and streamers and the table was set for dinner... set for four. He had invited Gina and Gary to join us. It was a small party, but so special. It meant the world to me, but my initial reaction spoiled the experience for Tony. While I was basking in seventh heaven, he was sinking into the depths of a great depression.
Looking back, I think that may have been the beginning of the end for us. We were from different worlds, he and I. He had a wealth of life experience that I had no way of sharing with him and the aches and pains and stresses to go along with those experiences. He had an ex-wife who hated him and a 10-year old son he never got to see. I couldn't even begin to understand the pain of that situation at that time in my life. His family didn't really approve of our realationship. Perhaps they were just worried that he'd get hurt again. Perhaps they were worried that he couldn't deal with that kind of loss again after he'd already suffered so much. Perhaps they believed that his fall from the cliff had been an attempt at suicide and thought that he might try it again if things between the two of us did not work out.
Personally, I didn't believe that Tony had tried to commit suicide. He'd told me that he hadn't... that it had been a slip... a terrible accident... while he'd been trying to look over the edge. He'd admitted being where he shouldn't have been, out beyond the barriers put in place to protect sightseers. He'd said that he'd been asked upon returning to consciousness after the fall if he'd ever thought about suicide and that he'd admitted he had, which they took to mean that this had been an attempted suicide. He'd undergone court-ordered psychiatric treatment ever since and his ex had used the incident to exclude him from Christopher's life. When I met Tony, he hadn't seen Christopher for two years. He did occasionally get to talk to him on the telephone, which would invariably send him back into a state of depression.
I couldn't understand how such horrible sadness could rule one's life. I couldn't understand why nothing I did to make it better could pull him out of his funks. I couldn't understand why he let all of these things get him down... why he couldn't seem to concentrate on building a new life with me and looking to the future instead of moping about the past.
When we did allow ourselves to dream openly about the future, I came to a new realization.
That realization was the end of my dream of a future with Tony. I no longer thought we could conquer the world or any of his demons. I no longer believed that the age difference made no difference at all. I could see how distant we were from one another. I thought it was so sad that I was more mature than he was, that I had more hopes and dreams and ambitions than he had.
Tony dreamed of getting a new job, sorting mail for the state... a secure position so that he'd get regular raises and never have to worry about losing his job again. When I asked where he wanted to go from the mail room, he revealed that he didn't want to leave the mail room.
I was devastated. I couldn't believe that he had no other ambition in life than that. I dreamed of so much more than that. I wanted to write books. I wanted to have a family and raise a bunch of children and not have to worry about how to pay for them to go to college one day. I couldn't see that ever happening on the salary of a mail clerk. I'd like to apologize to Tony if I could see him again today. It took me years of struggling to get where I am today, working as a clerk for the state of New York.
For the first time in my life, I feel like my job is secure and I'm confident that I'll have it for as long as I want it. For the first time in my life, I am enjoying regular raises and feel like I can finally afford to support my children without constant worry about how to pay the bills. For the first time in my life, I am paying full price for my kids' school lunches. For the first time in my life, I am worried that we may make too much money for our children to get a good financial aid offer when they apply to college. For the first time in my life, I have respect for Tony's dream of a secure job in an environment he realized he could tolerate. For the first time in my life, I get it.
I think I may have been able to raise a family with Tony, if I'd been able to give him a chance. I loved him dearly. He was good for me. For the first time in my life, I may be realizing how much I failed Tony, though, and how I never could have been enough for him. I just didn't have the life experience when I loved Tony to understand his pain and to sympathize with it and to give him his space. Our physical relationship was very satisfying, but emotionally we were worlds apart.
I'm sorry, Tony, that things ended so badly between us... that although we tried to make a clean break, I blew that too. I'm sorry that I hurt you so much. I'm sorry that I lied to you in the end, though I did it to protect you from the hurt I knew you would feel if you heard the whole ugly truth. I'm sorry that I wasn't strong enough to give you a chance to live your dream with me, when you were willing to overlook all of my shortcomings to try to make things work. I'm sorry that I didn't believe in us the way that you did.
I hope that you found your dream with someone else. I hope that you fell in love again. I hope that you had more children and were able to be a father to them and to feel the joy of holding them in your arms and raising them from infancy. I hope that you are happy today and that you have no regrets about how things turned out.
A piece of my heart will always belong to you and to that special time when our lives intersected for a time. You were the first man to love me unselfishly and you taught me a great deal about life and love. Thank you.
May 27 Back to the future... um... I mean the presentWhen I first started writing here, I was trying very hard to protect the identities of the people I love. There were complete strangers visiting and I didn't want to use real names and such as I had no permission to do so from the people involved. Also, I'm a mother of teenagers and I worry too much about how easy it is to victimize children using information given innocently over the Internet. Of course, my first concern is to protect my children and everyone else I love from the evils lurking about all around us.
I am not stupid, however. I do know that I have linked myself to the Queen Bee, my sister Gina, who is not protecting identities and who has posted our family tree online. This is all okay with me. I like that I have access to it there and that those connected to that tree in some way can find it there. It has helped us to make connections and it's a positive use of this tool.
If evil is lurking and is that intent on doing harm, it will be done. I can't stop it. I've made the decision this time around to use real names and not to protect identities, whether or not I have permission to do so.
I am Sheila. My younger son, Erick, previously known here as Ben, dreamed up my alias, Peace-Mama, when I started this blog page. He's a very creative child. Erick has been called Ben by his Uncle Gary for many years now and since this site was originally set up as a connection between myself and my sister, it seemed appropriate that I use names as familiar to her as they were to me. Gary, not one to leave anyone out or to play favorites, calls my elder son Jack, which is the name he often uses online and the one I chose to call him here previously. He is actually Jacob. My husband, who has been known here as Willie, is Scott. This was not much of a disguise for him as it's a nickname by which he's been known for almost 30 years. Many of his friends, upon receiving invitations to our wedding 15 years ago, had no idea who Scott was, but were happy to attend once they realized Willie was getting married.
At any rate, in the interests of keeping things a bit cleaner and crisper in the future, I am no longer changing any names in my entries. I'm not going out of my way to draw attention to anyone in particular and I'm not using last names, which should certainly serve to continue to protect the identities of those not related to me. To those I am related to, who in the past have indicated a desire to be protected from the truth and from publicity and from my opinions, I'll probably write of you very infrequently as I don't wish for there to be any hard feelings between us, but if I do write of you, I will use your first name only. I'm not trying to hurt anyone, but in telling my own stories your name invariably arises as you are a part of my life and I love you.
This is the closest I'm going to get to an explanation of my actions or to an apology for them. I don't believe that I'm doing anything wrong. Thank you for at least trying to understand, or for being patient with me while I plead with those who have been offended in the past.
Peace to you and yours,
Sheila
May 24 Back to school... the first time...Way back in the summer of 1988, I started my second year of college at the College of St. Rose in Albany, NY. I moved into my dorm room, which was a triple with my friends, Patti and Dawn. It was a cool room, round... on the second floor of a beautiful house overlooking Madison Avenue. I was happy to see Patti and Dawn again, but things had changed. I couldn't quite put my finger on what was different, but something was definitely different.
I'm not sure when I realized it, but at some point, I finally decided that I was different. I had grown and changed over the summer. My friends were exactly the same. They went home for the summer and did whatever it was they did, but when they came back they were just the same as when they'd left. It was just like they could simply pick up where they left off. I was baffled. My life had continued while theirs, it seemed, had been on hold, just waiting to start happening again.
I introduced my friends to Tony. I wanted them to be happy for me, but they weren't. He was shy and self-conscious and so much older than we were. He was uncomfortable around them. They didn't understand what I saw in him and he could feel their disapproval.
I continued working mornings at the bagel shop before my classes and even went back for a couple of hours in between classes. I was a valued employee and they were happy to keep me on the books, even though it meant being so much more flexible with my schedule. I liked working. It gave me an immediate sense of accomplishment.
I hated my classes. I had been pressured terribly the spring before and felt forced into making a decision about a major. I chose history and political science. I was taking an intro to political science class, first year French, more advanced Spanish, which I'd been studying for years and loved, and I think a history and a science class. There wasn't one among them that I wanted to attend beyond the first week or two. I kept hoping for things to get better, but they didn't. My attitude toward college was taking a serious nosedive!
I couldn't connect with my friends, whom I loved dearly. Only Vicki was even willing to try to get to know Tony. She lived in the house next door and I found myself wishing that I'd tried to get a room with her instead of Patti and Dawn.
I was also tired... very tired. I was still getting up to work at 5:30 in the morning, then going to class, back to work, back to class, then trying to get some homework done. I couldn't see Tony until he got off work and returned home by bus, which was after 10 p.m. I didn't have time for any of the fun I'd had the year before, but that was okay bacause I really wasn't finding so much fun in the things I'd enjoyed the year before.
It wasn't long before I started skipping classes. It was the part of my day that I hated. My friends began to worry about me and when they voiced their opinions, the wedge between us all grew into a sharp divide. Tony was worried about me too. I had to make a decision... not an easy thing for me... either to go back to my classes and try to salvage my education or to find someplace to live off campus so that I could leave school.
I chose the latter, but it was not an easy decision to make. I couldn't move back in with my aunt, with whom I'd spent the summer. She would not approve of this decision and she would tell my mother. I could not tell my mother yet. I couldn't move in with Tony. His apartment was so tiny there was barely room for him there. He slept on a love seat with a twin size pull-out.
I turned to my sister... my confidante... my best friend in all the world. She didn't think that she could help at first. The idea came a bit later. You see, her life had changed that summer too. Two days after my first date with Tony, Gina had her first date with Gary, the brother-in-law of her best friend from work. She was madly in love and she was pregnant and she and Gary were planning their wedding. She was moving out of Albany and into Gary's home in Selkirk. "Too bad you can't afford my apartment," was Gina's eventual suggestion. I didn't make nearly enough money at the bagel bakery, even if I went back to full-time to cover her rent.
There was only one way to make that suggestion a reality. I needed a roommate....
Tony and I moved into Gina's apartment on the first of October after she moved out of it. She and Gary were married on Oct. 7, 1988, and I was her maid of honor.
I think that was about the time that I told my parents I had dropped out of school and that I was now living with Tony. I thought Mom was going to blow a gasket, but Dad just kind of nodded and took it in stride. That's his way. He knows me. He knows I'm ruled by my heart and not my head. I'm too much like him. It's the thing that my mother has always hated in me.
May 21 ... and life as I experienced it... (continued)After my first year of college, I got a summer job at a bagel bakery. I worked the opening shift from 5:30 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. I made coffee and served bagels with cream cheese and built bagel sandwiches, but mostly I smiled at customers, learned the order habits of my regular customers and did the best job I could. I've always been a big believer in customer service and I was very good at it. I liked it. I like people and wanted nothing more than to give them what they wanted, promptly, with a smile. Having someone's coffee ready and waiting for them by the time they get to the counter goes a long way toward making them feel special and everyone should feel special.
I had a very special customer that summer. His name was Tony. He used to come in every morning, usually between 9:30 and 10 o'clock, and order a small coffee. Didn't take me long to learn that one and have it waiting for him every morning. It was a slow time of day, after the breakfast rush and before the lunch crowd started coming around. This service made Tony feel special and he would always smile broadly at me and thank me so nicely. Then he'd sit down and read his paper and sip his coffee before ambling back out with a slightly lopsided gait.
After a while, Tony confessed that he missed me on my days off. He'd tell me that no one else took care of him the way that I did. Well, I guess maybe they didn't know that he ordered the same small coffee every morning, probably because I always took care of it before he even needed to ask for it. All my fault anyway, but it began a dialog, albeit brief and friendly. I would have liked to talked to him more, but invariably he'd come in just after I'd finished my break and I'd only be able to chat for a few moments before another customer wandered my way.
One day, when I came into work, my friend Mark began to tease me about Tony. He'd left me a gift the day before while I'd been off work... and he knew when I'd be off as my work schedule was regular. I was embarrassed at Mark's teasing so I refused to open the small package wrapped in purple, all-occasion paper and tied with a piece of purple curling ribbon. I wanted to know, but I didn't want my friends to know what the gift was. I really didn't know if it would make the teasing go away or if it would just make it worse. By the time I got home, I couldn't control the curiosity any longer and I opened the package. Inside was a hard plastic case holding four unmarked, home-made cassette tapes. I took out the first one and began to play it. I listened to all four of them. They were an assortment of rock and pop hits.
Tony told me later that they were favorites of his and he wanted to share them with me. I thanked him for the special gift and invited him to come in a little earlier one morning so that we could sit together and chat during my break. He worked nights and told me that he usually came in as soon as he got out of bed, but within a few days, he managed to come in a little earlier and we shared a table.
I found him very easy to talk to and pleasant to be around. He was short, what I consider short... which is about my own height, 5'6" tall. He had dark brown, wavy hair and a mustache with kind brown eyes. He walked with a slight limp and occasionally used a cane, but that didn't bother me, it simply made me curious. I learned later that he'd taken a fall down the side of a mountain a couple years earlier and had been very seriously injured. Though he was then partially disabled, he worked part-time in the evenings cleaning a couple of local bank branches. He lived in a very tiny studio apartment a block or so up the street from the bagel bakery and, ironically, right across the street from the college I attended.
He also came with some baggage, most of which bothered my family (especially my mother) much more than it bothered me. Now, being a mother myself, I do get it, but I still firmly believe that our children must learn for themselves even when doing so means they will make mistakes. Personally, I still don't believe that what came to be my relationship with Tony was a mistake.... I view it more as a learning experience... a life lesson... and just another piece in the puzzle that is me today.
Back to the baggage.... Tony was 30 years old, which ordinarily would not have been a problem at all, but I was only 18 and the 12 year age difference was definitely a problem for my mother, who was 39 at the time. Tony had also been married when he was much younger and had been divorced for about five years. And to top it all off, Tony was a father to a 10-year old son.
None of that bothered me. We began dating. For our first date, Tony planned an afternoon in the park complete with a jaunt around the pond in a paddle boat, followed by a picnic dinner. We stayed on our blanket in the grass after eating and enjoyed a free performance by the park players. I must admit that I do not remember what the show was. It was something that we liked to do and I have seen so many plays in that park, that I can no longer remember what one we saw that night. I was already falling in love with Tony by then, but he didn't even kiss me good-night after he walked me home.
I think it took about two weeks of seeing each other two to three times a week before he finally kissed me and it was at least another month after that before we finally made love. We were both in love by then. We spent a lot of time talking and holding hands. We understood one another and we enjoyed being together. That was about the time that things got a lot more complicated. It was time for me to go back to school....
Check back in a few days to get the next installment of life as I experienced it.... Sheila May 17 ... and life as I experienced it... (continued)The first time I attempted to use this blog it was to keep in touch with my sister and to trade news of family happenings with her as well as to vent about our feelings to one another. That didn't work out so well, so I've changed tactics. Now, I think that I'm simply going to write about my own past experiences and how I felt at the time. It's very therapeutic to write about the troubles of our past.
As a disclaimer, though, before I go any further, I want to assure anyone who reads here that I'm okay. I've made peace with my past. Though we always need more therapy when dealing with the tough times, there have certainly also been many good times in my life. I'm basically an optimistic person and am happier now than ever before in my life.
In less than two weeks my husband and I will celebrate our 15th wedding anniversary. We've had our rocky moments, but we love one another deeply and always seem to work through rapids to enjoy smooth, peaceful waters once again. We have two teenage sons, of whom we are incredibly proud. They are our joy in life and we focus on them, healthy or not.... Two years ago we purchased a beautiful home and are still very happy with it. I love my job and my husband, who has been out of work due to a back injury for the past seven years, has finally been approved for disability. We are all happy, even when we are making each other miserable, and we do that from time to time.
Anyway, if you feel something when you read here, GOOD! That's what I want. But please, don't feel sorry for me. I'm fine and everything that I've been through in the past has contributed to making me the person that I am today. Things happen for a reason and I'm a firm believer that God doesn't give us more than we can handle. What doesn't kill us makes us stronger and all that jazz....
More later, Sheila May 16 Summer, college and life as I experienced it...Welcome, Summer! Well, it barely looks like spring here in northern New York, but I work for a college and graduation is Sunday, so summer is officially on! Last year was my first extended summer season and technically not so extended as I didn't begin working at the college until the first of June. This is, then, my first May-August summer since I was 18 and had just finished my first year of college at the College of St. Rose in Albany. That was 20 years ago and two months after that summer ended, I dropped out of college.
I'm feeling a bit nostalgic about it all right now so I'm writing. Also, as far as I know, only one other person ever bothers to read here, so I am honest here and very open. There is so much about that first year of college that was difficult for me and so much that I just don't talk about. This blog's for Mom... though I don't think she'll ever see it and I'm not sure that I want her to.
I was really excited about going to college, though also frightened out of my mind. I had very high hopes for my future back when I was 17. I knew then that I wanted to be a writer, but I also knew that I didn't want to be a journalist. Mom had been pressuring me to go to Morrisville College as they had a top-notch journalism program. In hindsight, it may have been a good choice, but I did not want to be a journalist. I just wanted to write. I chose the College of St. Rose because it was such a small college and so close to my sister and my aunts. I needed that security then. I was undeclared in that I had not chosen a major and didn't know what to pick because nothing St. Rose offered seemed to me to be a choice to take me toward my goal. There was, however, a great deal of pressure from my advisors to choose something.
I made several friends quite quickly among the freshmen girls in my dorm, which was a very new and different experience for me. I had always been ostracized and picked on in school, so finding others receptive to me was wonderful. I loved it. I worked a part-time job off campus for the first month or so, but found that to be too demanding on the weekends, so I quit and tried to concentrate on school instead.
I guess to tell this whole story honestly, I need to back up.... Forgive me for jumping around. The summer after I graduated from high school and before I started college, I moved to Albany and lived with my sister and her boyfriend. By the time I got there in late June, most of the summer jobs had been filled, but I eventually found a part-time position at a nursing home outside the city. Unfortunately, I worked evenings and my sister and her boyfriend worked days. I didn't see much of them and I didn't know anyone else. I was terribly lonely and depressed. It was for that reason that her boyfriend decided we should put a personal ad in a local paper to try to match me up with a suitable boyfriend. That was how the two of them had met, after all, and they were happy then. I was all for it. What did I have to lose?
Well, we placed the ad, which was all true except for my age (because you had to be 18 in order to purchase a personal ad). I got several letters and began the slow process of narrowing down the candidates and writing back to those that seemed okay. Soon, I narrowed things down even further with my sister's assistance and actually called a few guys to arrange meetings. We were very careful to keep initial meetings public and, being the older sister, she warned me to be careful and I was. I think I ended up meeting three guys. I fell head over heels for one of them, but after we hit it off splendidly early on, it seemed that the feeling was not mutual. He avoided my phone calls and eventually, I gave up.
At any rate, one of the other guys hung around much longer, into that first semester of my college career. I wasn't interested in Brian as a boyfriend... there just wasn't any chemistry between us, but I liked him so we hung out from time to time. After a couple of visits to my dorm, it seemed to me that he was growing fond of my neighbor across the hall. I knew that she was as lonely as I was, so I encouraged the budding romance.
One night, Brian came to visit Vicki and I with a friend of his. His name was Eddie. He told us he was a junior at Oneonta College and just home for the weekend. I thought he was cute... short, with curly blonde hair and blue eyes. Backing up again, just for a moment, in order to get the guys into the dorm, even on the weekend, we had to break the rules. Although it was a co-ed dorm, girls were only allowed to sign in other girls, so we had to get a boy from the third floor to sign in our guy friends. In exchange, we would sign in girls for the boys doing the favor for us.
Well, Brian and Eddie were both 21 and legally old enough to drink and to purchase alchohol. They brought some stuff with them and that October night, Vicki and I got our first taste of grasshoppers. They were smooth chocolatey, mint drinks that went down real easy. In no time at all, it seemed, we were giddy and laughing and very happy. We were listening to music and eating pizza and having a blast. Eddie leaned over and kissed me. I was surprised, but pleasantly so, as I found him attractive.
When he asked if there was anywhere we could go to be alone, I didn't hesitate to take him across the hall to my dorm room. My roommate had gone home for the weekend. As lonely as I had been for the past four months, and not having had a real boyfriend in more than two years, I was eager to begin a college romance. Unfortunately, that wasn't exactly what Eddie had in mind.
As soon as my dorm room door closed behind us, he asked which bed was mine. I pointed to the one across the room by the window. Aside from the two desk chairs and the two beds, there really wasn't any other furniture. We had all been sitting on and around Vicki's bed a short while earlier, so I still wasn't alarmed. I was excited. I wanted to spend some time making out and exploring one another physically.
When he pushed me down on my bed, everything changed. I was beginning to grow very alarmed and begged him to take it slow and easy. I thought, I should just scream! but I couldn't. I kept thinking about all the music and noise and laughter throughout the building and how often we heard screaming that we all just ignored. I knew that there was no chance of anyone coming in. In addition to my roommate being at home for the weekend, so too was the Resident Assistant from our floor, the only one with a key to every room.
Instead of screaming, I cried. I knew what was happening to me, but I had already discovered that he was much stronger than he looked and I wasn't able to escape his hold. He had me pinned to the bed with his weight. I was powerless to stop him. Eddie raped me twice that night, then kissed me good-bye and collected Brian from Vicki's room and left.
I didn't tell anyone for years. I felt like it was all my fault. I had broken the rules to get the guys into the dorm. I had been drinking, which was illegal. I had invited him to my dorm room and I had voluntarily closed a door that automatically locked behind me. I hadn't screamed and had consciously made a decision to give up the physical fight I was losing miserably. Although I knew, even then, that I had said, "NO!" and that what was happening was wrong, it took a long time for me to realize that it WAS rape.
I thought I was lucky. I hadn't been maimed physically and I wasn't a virgin at the time. I thought I hadn't really lost anything important, but I had. Emotionally, I was a wreck! I didn't have anyone to talk to and I didn't know what to say anyway. I struggled with my classes that semester and the next. I even refused to go to one class, freshman seminar, which was a requirement for all freshmen. It was a pass-fail class designed to get kids talking about their lives and their classes and their friends. It was the one place where we were supposed to be completely safe and secure and whatever we said was supposed to stay inside those walls. It became very painful for me to sit there and listen and I could not confess. I felt completely alone.
The worst part of it was that Brian and Eddie continued to visit from time to time. Vicki was so excited, and I couldn't tell her what had happened either, although I really wanted to. She had begun to lose interest in Brian, but she also thought Eddie was cute. He was turning his attentions toward her. I wanted not to care, but Vicki was my friend and I loved her. I knew that Vicki was still a virgin. I couldn't bear the thought of Eddie doing to her what he had done to me. I needed to tell her, but I couldn't! I still wanted to scream, but no noise came out.
I did something, then, and I did it several times, that I will always regret, but I felt that I had no choice and that I had the very best of intentions. The road to hell is paved with good intentions. I had never before or since been so brazen with a man, but on the occasion of that second visit of Eddie's and each one after that... maybe three times... I pushed my way into his arms, no matter how much he flirted with Vicki. I kissed him and I took him down the hall to an unused storage room. There was no furniture in the room and it didn't lock. I tried just to make out with him little bit, but he wanted more. He always wanted more, but I wasn't going to let him have control anymore... not ever again. I performed oral sex on him but refused him access to my body and I kept him away from my friend.
Eventually, poor besotted Brian, realized he wasn't going to get anywhere with either me or Vicki and I guess he probably got tired of watching us vie for Eddie's attention. They stopped coming around and somehow Vicki and I remained friends, though I'm still not sure she's ever forgiven me. We continued to see one another from time to time after I dropped out of school and then we corresponded for a while after she moved to Vermont to finish her education.
I never really could pull things back together at college. I managed to get through that first year, but then all my friends went home for the summer and I didn't. I stayed in Albany and got a job at a bagel bakery. During the course of the summer, I met a man there and we began dating. He was a lot older than I was, but he was a perfect gentleman and didn't rush our relationship. I fell in love with him and the feeling was mutual.
When I went back to school that fall, I realized that my life had changed and I felt as though I had grown and changed. My friends, however, were picking up right where they left off the previous May. I felt so out of place. I felt so removed from them all. Add to that the fact that I hated every one of the classes I had chosen to take that fall, and it was really a wonder that it took me over a month to drop out of school.
I didn't tell my mother immediately and I know that it was a huge disappointment for her that it was already over with by the time she found out. She never even got a chance to try to talk me out of it. She had only wanted the best for me... better than she had done for herself... the same thing that every mother wants for their child. I failed her and I never could even face the reasons why. She would probably be happy to know that I finally worked through my feelings about being raped when I returned to college years later.
I took a children's literature class in the fall of 2001 and we read a book titled "Speak" about a 13 year old girl that was raped the summer before she started high school. She couldn't talk about her experience either. I found that I could really relate to her emotionally and the book empowered me to write about my own experience and eventually even to talk about it to a few people that I love and trust... a few people that I want to understand, though I know you can't really understand unless you've been through it.
No names in this blog entry have been changed to protect an identity. I wish I was brave enough to use last names too, but I'm not. Vicki, if you're out there somewhere, I'm sorry that I hurt you, but I'm sure now you understand. I think of you often. I now live near the home of your youth and I wonder how you are today.
Eddie, if you're out there somewhere, I know that I wasn't your only victim. I bet you got away with raping many young college girls. I hope one of them was much stronger and smarter than I was and turned you in. I hope that you eventually paid for your crimes. You sicken me!
Mom, I love you and I'm sorry I was always such a disappointment to you.
May 09 Second chancesIt's been a long time since I've written. I had all but stopped coming to this site and haven't participated in the community in a long time now. My blogging here, though intended to keep me in closer contact with my family, caused a great deal of dissention and heartache among those I love most.
I'm ready to try again, but I'm first testing the waters. As you may know, I live in the foothills of the Adirondack Mountains of northern New York and here the waters tend to run cold all year long. I am a person who values the warmth of close personal relationships and one who has seen first-hand the impact of splashing cold water into the mix.
My desire is to bring my family closer together... to build bridges, if you will... to span generations, distance and differences. It's meant to be a good and positive thing. If I find it getting ugly, I'll delete everything. For now, though, it is what it is.
Wishing you and yours much peace and happiness.... Sheila June 17 Truth and Consequences....The truth hurts. The truth has consequences. The consequences also hurt. I had a little party at my house yesterday. I invited several people, who for various reasons, couldn't make it. I also invited a few who did make it. My grandparents were here and so were Pops and J-Lady along with two of my nephews. It was a lovely day for a barbecue. I had good intentions. I always do. The road to Hell, though, is paved with good intentions.... I knew that my husband needed a new gas grill and I had it in my head that I'd give it to him for Father's Day. Of course, my plan was to give it to him a little early so that we could use it yesterday. I told him about my plan and he insisted that we didn't have the money right now so in the end he didn't get his new gas grill and I didn't get my barbecue. The charcoal wouldn't light. We ended up cooking everything indoors and arguing the whole while. Didn't end up mattering anyway, I guess, because I had already decided that we'd have to eat inside. This because as soon as my grandmother lifted her leg to climb the first step into my house, she fell backward and hurt her hip and ended up with a huge egg on her head. I felt just terrible. She doesn't usually use my back door, but did yesterday, against her own better judgement, because she was following Grandpa. Now she's under observation in the hospital taking morphine for pain from a possible hip fracture. I still feel just terrible. Moreso because I didn't insist that she go to the hospital right away. Instead, she sat here with us for hours, ate lunch and played two games of cards before practically needing to be carried out to the car. Thank God she had her walker with her. I know that made things slightly more comfortable for her. She was able to sit on its bench and be wheeled around the house. Grandpa pulled the car right up to the front door where at least there are only two steps, then, I'm sure, drove her right to a hospital closer to their home. There was one other incident that made me really uncomfortable, too. Pops asked me if I knew when my niece was graduating from high school. He has a card for her and didn't know when he should mail it. I just stared at him, dumbfounded, as Grandma said, "Well the party is at the end of the month, right?" I finally just gave up trying to figure out how much I should and shouldn't say. I said, "I don't know when the actual graduation is, but she's having a party on the 30th." That was met with, "Oh, I didn't know anything about a party. Okay." So now I've probably gone and gotten in the middle of things again. That's just where I always am. It's not that I really want to be there. It's just that that's where I always end up. I'm the middleman... the peacekeeper. At least, I try to play the role since I do land in it so often. Feelings are hurt and I try to apply a patch, a bandaid, if you will, because I never really did learn to sew and it seems that's the one skill I really need to mend the torn and tattered family I'm a part of. I'm about ready to give up on this role entirely and if I do, we'll probably all just drift happily away from one another, further and further each and every day. Or maybe I'll try just one more time. I'll have another party. A barbecue. Maybe in August, just before DD and the Young One go off to college. I'll invite all my brothers and sisters, save the one that I know cannot make it, no matter what, and their children. I'll invite Pops and J-Lady. I'll invite Mom. I'll invite Grandma and Grandpa. Then, when no one shows up because my parties always suck, I'll know it needs to be my last ever attempt and I'll stop trying to hold on to family ties that may, in fact, be better off broken. If no one else cares, why should I?
June 09 UpdateI've been at my new job now for six days and finally for the past three days they've been giving me some real work to do. That's a good thing. I was getting so bored with the pretend tasks. It's much easier to figure out what you're doing and how it all really works when you can relate it to actual day to day activities and see how it fits into your routine. I'm looking forward to knowing my routine and working within it.
The most difficult part so far has been the adjustment to the physical nature of the work and the aches and pains of my body's protest. For several years now, I've been employed at much more sedintary-style clerical tasks. There's plenty of that in the new job too, but so much more walking and moving things around, lifting and lugging, than I'm used to. I view it all as an opportunity to lose weight, which I really need to do.
If the exercise is built into my day, and if it's also part of my job, I'm much more likely to stick to it than if it were a self-imposed addition to my day. I've never been very good at exercising and I've never been very good at doing something just because I know I should. Mostly, I need to have no way out of it and then I can embrace it.
On another note entirely, I'm not feeling as well as I'd like to. I've been dealing with some draining physical (medical) problems for quite a while now. A few months ago, I finally thought one doctor had fixed things, but it turned out to be only temporary. Now I'm as bad or worse than I was before I saw him. It's such a struggle to know that something it wrong with your body, but not to be sure what it is, and to have no idea how to fix it. I've always been such a healthy person (except for the weight problem, of course), but now I feel sick and weak all the time.
I'll tell you one thing, though... it gives me a whole new respect for people like my husband and my brother-in-law, who live with chronic pain from incurable conditions. My condition is curable. I just don't like to consider the courses of treatment. The answers or solutions seem as though they may be as bad as the problem, just different. Worse, because once I move forward with a treatment option, there's no turning back. The treatment is a permanent alteration of my body and it's ability to function as God intended. Still, at this point, I know I must make that incredibly painful decision as I just cannot go on this way indefinitely. I know that allowing the procedure to cure my condition will take an emotional toll. I can only hope that I will eventually come to terms with that decision and that pain.
Only one more day of school this year for my younger son, Ben. He's counting the hours until it's over. I know better than that. I'm counting a few hours beyond that to the first, "I'm bored. There's nothing to do." At least this summer will be better than last summer. This summer, he won't be afraid to go find some friends to play with. Later, there will also be a day-camp for him and his brother associated with one of their extra-curricular school activities. Then soccer practices will likely start before the school year officially does so that's one more thing to look forward too. Both boys signed up for soccer this fall, though they will not be on the same team, so Willie and I will have to be creative in attending their games. I'm not sure how much that will affect their other sporting interest, bowling, which also begins in the fall, but we'll do whatever we have to do to make sure they can do it all. After all, I'm the one who encouraged them to get out there and be involved in different activities.
Jack will still have to go back to school for several tests over the course of the next ten days. He's obtained working papers and is considering looking for a part-time job this summer. He's only 14, but I told him I'm not going to pay for dating and I'm not going to pay for a car. I think he's more interested in dating right now, since two years still seems like a long time to him, but I'm trying to convince him that it's really not too early to start saving for a car or a prom or college.... He's probably not going to need it so much for college (I hope), as he stayed at the top of his class all year long. He's doing great academically and is also involved in sports, extra-curriculars and community activities. I believe that he'll probably be able to choose just about any college he wants to attend and will enjoy plenty of scholarship offers. I hope he keeps up the good work throughout high school. Tomorrow, he's running in a 5K event nearby. The rest of the family is walking the shorter course to participate as well. It may prove too much for Willie's back and, who knows, it may also prove too much for me, but we're gonna try it anyway.
That's about all that's going on here. Hope you and yours are also doing well and looking forward to summer. Peace.
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