Parenting adult children: August 2014

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Body image

So what did I learn today about parenting adult children?

Um, I don't know.

Maybe we will look at body image. My oldest asked me the other day how to teach good body image. I asked her if she felt good about her body, if she had a good body image. We had a discussion about it. I have no idea how to accomplish such a thing. I guess we didn't get it horribly wrong because the girls seem to be relatively well adjusted in that area. 'Don't be a chauvinist. What about the boys?' you say. I have no idea. Do boys care? Hang on and I will ask them...They said they are good and some boys probably do worry about it but they really don't. So I guess we did ok with the boys too?

I shall tell you a story. Not to make you feel bad for me but to illustrate how we can influence how our children feel about themselves. Take from it what you will.

When I was little I was tiny until I was 4. Somewhere between 3 and 4 I ballooned to something like the 95th percentile in weight with no corresponding jump in height. During elementary school my grandparents would tell my sister not to have another glass of milk because she would end up looking like me. My cousin and his friend called me Helen the big fat watermelon. Junior high brought being removed from class once a week to be weighed with the intent of helping us fat kids get not fat. By high school, one day while working as a cashier at the local grocery store, an older lady, one of my grandma's friends, coming through my line stopped me, took my hand, and while patting it said, "You would be such a beautiful girl if you weren't so big." So by graduation, I knew the regular stuff that one learns in school as well as the fact that I was smart and I better play on that because I certainly wasn't getting anywhere on looks. I was not pretty because I was fat.

Actually, I was relatively ok with that. I was smart. I dressed nicely because it was appropriate and I had to make the most of that first impression since I was not pretty. I had quite few really close male friends. I was safe because girlfriends didn't find me a threat. They came and went but I stayed so that was cool. Then along came Steve. He was cute, and nice, and didn't seem to notice that I wasn't pretty.

Fast forward to our wedding day. Now when Steve looked at me as I came down the aisle, I felt beautiful! Even though I knew I wasn't, I felt it. Skip next to the day after Liz was born. Steve walked into our hospital room and from the look on his face I knew he saw a beautiful person, but not a physically beautiful person.

Again, don't feel bad for me. I was mostly ok with this. I was well aware that I had good qualities. Physical beauty was not one of them. Feel bad for my hubby. No matter how many times he told me that I was beautiful or how he told me, I did not believe him. I believed he thought it was true but I knew it wasn't because I had 18, 25, 40 years of evidence that proved otherwise.

Fast forward again to now. Recently, someone from high school posted some throw-back pictures. I noticed that there were several other girls in my class that were just as heavy as I was. Why was I singled out as the fat girl? Then just a week or so ago, a cousin posted another throw-back picture of us cousins. I noticed that I really was not huge like I had always believed or been told. Could it be that maybe I wasn't as bad as I thought? Could I be pretty, maybe just a little? I do have great hair, but that is a far cry from beauty. Then I caught a glimpse of someone in the mirror who was a little pretty...and it was me. Stupid, right? Then I came down stairs just a couple of days ago and Liz told me that the outfit I had on was 'super cute'. When Steve got here he said I looked nice. What? Maybe I could be pretty even though I was overweight? Mind you, by this time in my life I am definitely overweight. But maybe loosing weight would not be useless in the beauty department? Pretty in spite of heavy?

Probably, by now you are all starting a fund to get me a therapist. What did this story have to do with anything? Oh, yeah, we were talking about body image. Like I said, take from it what you will.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Vacation

Aahhhh, vacation. No cell service, no rules, and pants are not required.

Ha,ha, I guess that last part might need a little explanation...one can hang out in a bathing suit all day, one need not put pants on.

Ok, there aren't exactly no rules. Common sense and safety are still a must but other things kind of go by the wayside. Like running down a hill, you can do that at camp. The 'hill' is grass and ends at the lake, running is almost mandatory. And yes, it is acceptable to crawl through the window on the porch. Oh, and, just one more s'more...definitely ok on vacation.

I am really enjoying vacation with bigger kids. Admit it, moms don't usually get 'vacation' on vacation. Someone still has to cook and clean up and change diapers, and help with swim clothes, and, and, and. Now that the youngest is six, almost 7, vacation is so much more vacationy. This year, I have not done dishes more than once a day and have only cooked one of three meals a day. Everyone can get his or her own clothes changed....as a matter of fact, everyone packed his or her own clothes! The older kids take on duties like packing the kayaking necessities and getting together the dog's stuff. I trained them well.

I think that is the key. I try to take the time to teach them, to involve them in the details of what needs to happen. Sometimes it meant taking more time than if I just did it myself but the benefits are worth it. Right now for example, Mary is starting the fire for marshmallows; #6 is doing supper dishes. In a little while I will be brought as many s'mores as I want. I won't even have to get up from my chair. It may have been a lot of work then and still some now (I do have a few more to get to 'older' status), but it is oh so worth it now.

Do I feel guilty for 'making' them do 'all' the work? Please. Really? No. Not in the least. And again, no.

First, I don't make them do all the work. We try to make sure the kids get vacation too. I don't actually ask them to do any of it. Well, ok, I insist everyone helps pack and unpack and I don't provide maid service. But otherwise, they help because they are good kids. Because we raised them to be good kids. We teach them the value of manners and respect. We try to give them good examples of appropriate behavior and we try to point out when behavior could be improved. Is it easy? Nope, not usually. But what worth it is.

I feel like I have an advantage most people don't. Because I have eight kids ranging in age from 21 to 6, I get to see the benefits of my 'work' while I am still working. I get to watch my olders practice what we taught them while I am still working on the youngers. I can see where things were good and weed out what may not have helped. I can evaluate and make changes in real time! Sometimes that doesn't go over well with my older kids. To bad, so sad! Just kidding...If they ask I will explain the reasoning and they can learn from that too, if they want...but not while we are on vacation.

Sorry, gotta go. My peanut butter cup s'more is on the way up the hill.

So late but worth the read

Well, I guess I failed at not letting too much time pass between posts. Life can so easily get out of control and before you know it lots of time has been lost. Thankfully, not all of that time was wasted. We had a Lent that was full of suffering. But our Easter was...ok, our 8 year old, #7, got bit by a dog and we spent part of Easter Day at the ER and then chatting with two very nice policemen in our living room. Did you know ERs have to report dog bites? Anyway, other than that it was a good day.
We took an emergency trip to Tennessee during Lent. My husband's mother was taken to the hospital and once there for a day or so, the doctors said that family should be called. My husband flew out the next morning. By God's grace, his mom waited until he got there. He went in, spoke to her and held her hand. He then went into the hall to talk with his dad and brother. About 15 minutes later, she died.
The kids and I left the next morning, a Tuesday. It was decided that the little boys would stay with their oldest sister. She was not ready to make the 24 hour trip with the baby. (And actually, neither were we. Been there, done that...not a good time.) So we packed on Monday night, got up at a reasonable time and off we went. Like the well trained women that we are, Mary and I had called our mechanic and explained the situation - we were headed to TN from NH and Dad was already gone so could they check over the 15 passenger van before we left. The van got its travel papers. Mary and I gave each other gold stars for thinking ahead to actually take care of that whole thing. And we went...I said that already.
Anyway, it turned into a very nice morning for travel. About three hours from home it was getting warm so we kicked on the AC to cool off the van just a little. Next thing we know, the heat is pouring out and the temperature gauge is way in the red zone. We pulled into the parking lot of a Rite Aid in Latham, NY. I called Steve. I really don't know what I expected him to do from nearly 1200 miles away. And yet, he did what he always does...restored me to non-panic, take-care-of-the-situation mode. While I called Allstate Roadside Assistance, Mary, my beautifully helpful #2, found an Enterprise Rental in the area. After many phone calls with Enterprise, Steve, my step-father, Allstate, and Joe from the tow company, we found ourselves stranded in the Rite Aid parking lot for what we thought would be about 3 hours. We pulled over at 11; the van was gone at noon to be towed back to NH; and the rental would not be ready until 3 or 3:30.
So we hunkered down for the afternoon. All of our luggage for six of us for a week was piled onto a bench at the edge of the parking lot in front of the store. Of course, since we were packing in the 15 passenger van, everything got packed. Not sure if we needed heavy coats or just spring ones, pack them both, we have room. Which shoes? Pack both the black and the white ones, we have room. Everyone can take a pillow and a blanket for the ride. Yes, let's take 5 sleeping bags. We had packed food too so at least we could eat better than we could buy at Rite Aid. We also had books, electronics, and games. The manager of the store was, thankfully, kind and understanding. Thank God the little boys had stayed home.
At about 3:45, I called the Enterprise store. We were supposed to hear from them by 3. The brain surgeon, I mean, the manager who worked there said, "Oh, you are still there. You didn't go anywhere?" Where, exactly, were we supposed to go? Our van was gone. This was not a foot friendly town. There were no stores or restaurants we could see from where we were. Where did he think we were going to go?
Anyway, he said the car wasn't back yet so he would call me back in a few minutes after he called someone. When he called back, a little more than a few minutes later, he made another brilliant statement. Now, mind you, he knew we were six people and that we were stranded on a trip to TN. He said, "My driver is coming to get you. He can only take four of you but he can drop you off and get the other two after. (and here is the good part) You will have to watch for him because, I am just being honest, he won't see you." WHAT? I was doing ok up until this point, keeping a good attitude and all. Not see us? We were six people with a weeks worth of luggage outside a Rite Aid. Is he blind? How would anyone not see us? Calm, Helen. Breathe. Unfortunately, the distress giggles took over. In trying to relay this information to the kids, I could not stop giggling which made most of the kids giggle. Poor #6 crawled under the bench. She was done. Again, thank God the little boys had stayed home.
Well, the driver showed up. Turns out it was Mr. Brain Surgeon, the manager, who had the problem. Our driver was a very pleasant older gentleman who Mr. Brain Surgeon treated very poorly. (More on that in a minute.) Four of us piled into the car with as much of our stuff as we could get in. I left the two oldest with the rest of our stuff. No lie - the driver drove the car around the back of the Rite Aid, across the next parking lot, two car lengths down the road to the stop light and then, turned across the road into the parking lot of the Enterprise. That is where I lost it. The tears actually welled up, but I kept them from rolling down the cheeks. At this point we had been stranded for 5 hours --across the street. We could have been inside at Enterprise. We were wind burned, sun burned, our electronics were out of power. On top of all of that, there was a big snowstorm headed across the upper part of the country that we now had to worry about outrunning. Seriously, across the *&%^ street. Mr. Brain Surgeon claimed he was new to this store and didn't realize the Rite Aid was that close. Who is blind now? If you stood at the door of the Enterprise office and looked up the hill to the right, there stood a huge red and white Rite Aid sign. You couldn't miss it if you stepped out the door. And then, Mr. Brain Surgeon was rude to our driver. Very rude; like eye-rolling, sigh rude. It was completely inappropriate. I wanted to tell him so but...Well, I didn't want to scar the younger kids and Mary and Michael were not there to stop me if I really let loose so I held it in.
We were given a car that was too small to get us in, which created a whole new world of emotion. Thankfully, a very nice lady brought back a larger vehicle that fit us all and we drove off. Unfortunately leaving behind a few things we had stored in a under trunk compartment in the too small vehicle. We will never see those again.

Oh, have I said yet, thank God, literally, that the little boys stayed home.