"At some point, Santa needs to die. Because, there is no Santa Claus." The psychologist was quite emphatic on this point, insisting that part of the problem with our children today is that they are too coddled, that they need to be allowed to make mistakes, to screw up all by themselves. We as parents can't keep rescuing them.
Ok, so I completely agree. While not a completely hands-off mother, I have nevertheless let my children fall down and pick themselves up. The watching is painful, but the life lesson is invaluable.
This phenomenon is still happening for me. I trip, fall down, bloody my knees, pick myself painfully up, do it again. It has happened in every part of my life- spiritual, personal, and professional. Achieving balance is hard.
Recent events have thrown the balance off, all over again. My health benefits were abruptly cancelled. My employer decided that the expense was too much, in fact he insisted that I consider applying for Medi-Cal. Seriously. That was the final straw in a process that has been going on for years. No raise for five years, never a cost of living increase, no flexibility in work hours, no paid holidays, no sick leave, pretty much nothing. What I had was a convenient job, close to my kids when they were small. Hell, what I had was a job. But with one child in college and the other one almost finished with high school, the time has come to move on, if indeed there is something out there in this grim job market. Updating my resume and searching is time consuming, and pretty much a part time job, much like my predilection for swimming and weight training.
My spiritual life took an unexpected turn this week when I discovered that a priest died of brain cancer. She was very important in my life in my early years as a new mom. She helped me understand and get through my own mother dying of cancer. For the last three years I've been planning to get together with her- now it's too late. I've missed the boat. And- I will miss her. She was a wonderful human being who really made the world a better place. She didn't just talk about it, she did it daily. May she rest in peace.
My personal life is bright. I have great kids in spite of my mothering skills, or lack therof. I have dear friends. I have- dare I say it- a really great relationship with a guy who not only gets me, he doesn't run screaming from me once he realizes what I am all about. For my age, I'm hanging in there, physically- I'm strong, and thankfully, healthy, since I can no longer afford to go to the doctor. I'm in pretty good shape. Mentally, I'm completely nuts but what do you expect from someone who's idea of a great night is flannel jammies, Uggs, a baseball game, a glass of wine and my boyfriend?
The other night I was putting recycling in the outside bins, when I noticed a twenty-something in a pickup next door looking at me. Turns out he was one of my 7th graders, when I taught middle school. He was delighted to see me. He wanted to know was I still teaching, because he thought I was an "awesome" teacher, and that schools needed more educators like me. I was of course in jammies, and Uggs, and my hair was wet and screwed up all funny. As I usually am after coming home from the gym and taking a shower.
So the bad thing is, I live next door to one of my ex-students, who saw me looking really scary. The good thing is, I was his favorite teacher, and, apparently, still am. And he's turned out well.
Who says Santa is dead?
Ok, so I completely agree. While not a completely hands-off mother, I have nevertheless let my children fall down and pick themselves up. The watching is painful, but the life lesson is invaluable.
This phenomenon is still happening for me. I trip, fall down, bloody my knees, pick myself painfully up, do it again. It has happened in every part of my life- spiritual, personal, and professional. Achieving balance is hard.
Recent events have thrown the balance off, all over again. My health benefits were abruptly cancelled. My employer decided that the expense was too much, in fact he insisted that I consider applying for Medi-Cal. Seriously. That was the final straw in a process that has been going on for years. No raise for five years, never a cost of living increase, no flexibility in work hours, no paid holidays, no sick leave, pretty much nothing. What I had was a convenient job, close to my kids when they were small. Hell, what I had was a job. But with one child in college and the other one almost finished with high school, the time has come to move on, if indeed there is something out there in this grim job market. Updating my resume and searching is time consuming, and pretty much a part time job, much like my predilection for swimming and weight training.
My spiritual life took an unexpected turn this week when I discovered that a priest died of brain cancer. She was very important in my life in my early years as a new mom. She helped me understand and get through my own mother dying of cancer. For the last three years I've been planning to get together with her- now it's too late. I've missed the boat. And- I will miss her. She was a wonderful human being who really made the world a better place. She didn't just talk about it, she did it daily. May she rest in peace.
My personal life is bright. I have great kids in spite of my mothering skills, or lack therof. I have dear friends. I have- dare I say it- a really great relationship with a guy who not only gets me, he doesn't run screaming from me once he realizes what I am all about. For my age, I'm hanging in there, physically- I'm strong, and thankfully, healthy, since I can no longer afford to go to the doctor. I'm in pretty good shape. Mentally, I'm completely nuts but what do you expect from someone who's idea of a great night is flannel jammies, Uggs, a baseball game, a glass of wine and my boyfriend?
The other night I was putting recycling in the outside bins, when I noticed a twenty-something in a pickup next door looking at me. Turns out he was one of my 7th graders, when I taught middle school. He was delighted to see me. He wanted to know was I still teaching, because he thought I was an "awesome" teacher, and that schools needed more educators like me. I was of course in jammies, and Uggs, and my hair was wet and screwed up all funny. As I usually am after coming home from the gym and taking a shower.
So the bad thing is, I live next door to one of my ex-students, who saw me looking really scary. The good thing is, I was his favorite teacher, and, apparently, still am. And he's turned out well.
Who says Santa is dead?
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