Ok, so you know (see Part 1) that I've gone through my own crazy schedule gyrations, and cooperative agreements with neighbors, to see that my kids get where they need to be and supervised while we work. This is a story of other neighbors, who I don't know well....
There are lots of families with elementary-aged kids in our neighborhood. One family has four kids in elementary school - let's call the kids A, B, C, and D. So someone has to get A, B, and C on and off the bus, and watch D part of the day (she's in half-day kindergarten). Dad has consistently worked full-time, and mom got a full-time job within this past year which requires changing shifts regularly. They've been depending on another neighbor to help out with bus duty and the littlest.
(As an aside, I cannot believe that neighbor #2 took on these kids. They're constantly yelling at each other, arguing, running into the street, being mean to other kids on the bus, and generally driving me crazy. I once even saw them climbing onto & walking around on top of dad's car in the driveway. I don't think I'd have the patience to take them on!)
So, I'm sure they were in a tight spot when neighbor #2 went on vacation for a week, during school, and yet both parents had jobs to get to. One morning, the parents decided to allow the 3 oldest kids to be by themselves for the last half hour (or maybe more?) before getting on the bus in the morning. I'm not sure if this was desperation or honestly thinking that A (the 4th-grader) could be in charge. Here's what happened:
A, B, and C arrive at the bus stop. A and C wander about a house down the street in the other direction from the bus stop.
B: (turns and goes back across the street to their house) Oh, crap!
A: (returning a minute later) Where did B go?
Me: Back toward your house, but I don't know why.
A: (yelling) B, get back here!
B: (coming back) I forgot my water! And I need it!
A: (in the mean, derisive tone she seems to save for her sister) That was stupid. You'll have to do without it.
B: No! I need it!! You're being mean and stupid!
Much arguing ensues, during which A and B continue to insult each other, occasionally using inappropriate language (didn't I tell you they argue constantly?). I wish the other kids weren't listening to this. I wish I weren't listening to this. And, since the parents never asked for my help with them, I'm staying OUT of it, just watching.
B: I don't care what you say, I'm going back in for my water!
A: We don't have the key. How are you getting in?
B: I'll get through the window! (stomps toward their back yard as - oh, crap - the bus stops two blocks away, at the top of the hill)
A: FINE!! BE STUPID!!!!
B: SHUT UP!!!! STUPID!!!!
(bus stops at our stop, other kids get on, while B continues to stomp toward her back yard. I'm done watching. What the hell is she going to do if she misses the bus?)
Me: B, you're about to miss the bus! (I'm yelling from across the street, toward her in her yard a couple houses down from the bus stop.)
B: I don't care! I want my water!
Me: How are you going to get to school? Get on the bus!
B: (grouchy silence)
Me: Go! (I'm not driving you to school! Your parents never asked for my help with you, I barely know them.)
B: (stomps onto bus, whose driver - thankfully! - had waited for her)
... so, given that I had to (repeatedly) yell at B to get out of her yard and onto the bus... and I was the only adult at the bus stop to hear what had happened... but, I also barely even know the parents' names... do I tell them about it?
I spent the next hour walking the dog and contemplating. Which resulted in me coming home, sitting down at the computer (much more readable than my handwriting!) and composing a note to the parents. Which I then left taped to their front door before heading out to work.
I'm sure this could have ended badly, in any number of directions... But what would you do?
Tuesday, May 7, 2013
It Takes a Village (Part 1)
It takes a village...
An old cliche, but a true one. I continued to work after the kids were born; it was never a question in my mind that I would. For some moms (and dads!), I know, it's a huge question and a source of much guilt. For me, I wanted to continue my profession (I'd worked hard to establish it), while also making plenty of time to raise my kids. At first, the husband worked form home, and we split shifts for the most part (with me working less hours than I had pre-kids), while depending on his aunt for the occasional day of babysitting. This soon grew to her taking the kids on all of my (reduced) days of work, and the husband working an in-office job.
Ok, three people raising these kids. No problem, that's not much.
Then, when Baby Girl was in preschool (and Eldest in elementary school full time), I had an opportunity for a temporary full-time university teaching position drop into my lap. It was only for an academic year, but it got me out of the office, doing something different. I still spent some hours at the practice, but needed to make time to prepare and teach 12 credit hours of classes each semester.
Let the fun begin!!
How do you get one kid on and off the bus for a full day of school, while ensuring that the other gets driven to and picked up from preschool three afternoons a week, and babysat the remainder of the week?
I ended up with a calendar I created: time of day down the side (7am-8pm, every 15min got a slot), day of the week across the top... and four columns under each day, for various members of the team. It took a legal-size sheet to print it out; it was a complicated dance of who would be where at what time, and which adult was in charge of which kid at each time. Including the "backup plan" for weeks the husband was travelling for work and I was on my own.
It took us two parents, his aunt, his brother, and two neighbor families willing to exchange babysitting(that's eight adults!) for us to manage this schedule, for a couple kids. It takes a village!
A year later, being back to part-time teaching and the usual part-time hours at the practice, I wonder how in the hell I made it all happen last year. I think I may have lost my mind for a while in there. Balance work and family? No such thing. It's all about getting through.
An old cliche, but a true one. I continued to work after the kids were born; it was never a question in my mind that I would. For some moms (and dads!), I know, it's a huge question and a source of much guilt. For me, I wanted to continue my profession (I'd worked hard to establish it), while also making plenty of time to raise my kids. At first, the husband worked form home, and we split shifts for the most part (with me working less hours than I had pre-kids), while depending on his aunt for the occasional day of babysitting. This soon grew to her taking the kids on all of my (reduced) days of work, and the husband working an in-office job.
Ok, three people raising these kids. No problem, that's not much.
Then, when Baby Girl was in preschool (and Eldest in elementary school full time), I had an opportunity for a temporary full-time university teaching position drop into my lap. It was only for an academic year, but it got me out of the office, doing something different. I still spent some hours at the practice, but needed to make time to prepare and teach 12 credit hours of classes each semester.
Let the fun begin!!
How do you get one kid on and off the bus for a full day of school, while ensuring that the other gets driven to and picked up from preschool three afternoons a week, and babysat the remainder of the week?
I ended up with a calendar I created: time of day down the side (7am-8pm, every 15min got a slot), day of the week across the top... and four columns under each day, for various members of the team. It took a legal-size sheet to print it out; it was a complicated dance of who would be where at what time, and which adult was in charge of which kid at each time. Including the "backup plan" for weeks the husband was travelling for work and I was on my own.
It took us two parents, his aunt, his brother, and two neighbor families willing to exchange babysitting(that's eight adults!) for us to manage this schedule, for a couple kids. It takes a village!
A year later, being back to part-time teaching and the usual part-time hours at the practice, I wonder how in the hell I made it all happen last year. I think I may have lost my mind for a while in there. Balance work and family? No such thing. It's all about getting through.
I hate other people's children
Maybe hate is a bit strong. But I really don't at all enjoy being around large groups of kids. I've been volunteering at the school this year, and whole classes full of children always seem chaotic to me (or is it that my kid's teacher sucks?). I prefer the one-on-one tutoring I get a chance to do; and I seem to be good at it. I've even had teachers I don't yet know stop by to tell me that they've been listening to me, and they appreciate what a good job I do with the kids.
And, one-on-one, most kids don't drive me too crazy. Because I can give them "the look" and/or "the tone" of voice and they'll settle down and do what I've asked them to. That's the easy part!
But, in larger crowds, there are always the ones who are talking when they should be listening to the school concert, those who use their time on the bus to belittle and bully other kids, those who climb up the slides at the playground while others are patiently waiting in line at the top, etc. My kids can also act up, sure. But 90% of the time, they're the ones following the rules... and getting trampled by those who do not. It brings out the momma bear in me, and makes me want to smack those other kids.
Ok, so maybe the problem isn't the kids in this situation so much as it's the adults who fail to correct them. At the playground, if my kids aren't following the rules, I tend to remind them. At a concert, same thing. I spent last year's holiday concert by the elementary children steaming because I couldn't hear a large part of the performances: groups of children waiting to perform were running wild while the "parent helpers" seemed either ok with it or oblivious to it, and many of the audience families weren't exactly being quiet or polite either.
I'd had enough at the playground recently and corrected someone else's brood, when I was pretty sure the adults wouldn't notice and take offense. At what point is it ok to step in (sorry, actual parents/"adults in charge," you had your chance and didn't take it!) and correct other people's children?
And, one-on-one, most kids don't drive me too crazy. Because I can give them "the look" and/or "the tone" of voice and they'll settle down and do what I've asked them to. That's the easy part!
But, in larger crowds, there are always the ones who are talking when they should be listening to the school concert, those who use their time on the bus to belittle and bully other kids, those who climb up the slides at the playground while others are patiently waiting in line at the top, etc. My kids can also act up, sure. But 90% of the time, they're the ones following the rules... and getting trampled by those who do not. It brings out the momma bear in me, and makes me want to smack those other kids.
Ok, so maybe the problem isn't the kids in this situation so much as it's the adults who fail to correct them. At the playground, if my kids aren't following the rules, I tend to remind them. At a concert, same thing. I spent last year's holiday concert by the elementary children steaming because I couldn't hear a large part of the performances: groups of children waiting to perform were running wild while the "parent helpers" seemed either ok with it or oblivious to it, and many of the audience families weren't exactly being quiet or polite either.
I'd had enough at the playground recently and corrected someone else's brood, when I was pretty sure the adults wouldn't notice and take offense. At what point is it ok to step in (sorry, actual parents/"adults in charge," you had your chance and didn't take it!) and correct other people's children?
Friday, October 19, 2012
Playing the social game
Ok, so apparently, elementary school (for parents) is a lot like Survivor; only if you don't play a good social game, it's not you who gets kicked off the island, it's your kid.
Eldest is in second grade this year. I haven't had a lot of time (work committments) the last two years to stalk, I mean help, his teachers. Or the PTA. So, aside from a few neighbors and friends from preschool, I haven't exactly been hooked in to the school's social network. Who cares, right? I've got friends, they've got friends, whatever.
Scene: mid-August, immediately after the class/teacher assignments are posted. Everyone in the neighborhood is discussing the results.
Neighbor A: We got Teacher B, but I knew we would; last year's teacher said my little Princess would do well with her. Well, that she'd do fine as long as she didn't get Teacher C, I've heard she's a nightmare! Good thing last year's teacher put in a good word for us!! Who did your Eldest get?
Me: Teacher C. (WTF is wrong with this teacher? I didn't know we had awful teachers, I've never heard the gossip.)
Neighbor B: Oh, I heard your Eldest got Teacher C. I'm so sorry! When Rosie had her two years ago, she would come home crying every day. Turns out she lets the class run wild until she's had enough, then screams at all of them.
Me: (stunned silence) Uh, thanks. (and you couldn't have told me this 6 months ago?!?)
Neighbor C: Do you know the PTA president? Oh, I thought you did, since she lives just a couple blocks from you. Anyway, she told me that, of the whole building, the teacher she most wants her kids to avoid is Teacher C.
Me: (Getting used to these stories by now but steamed nonetheless) Uh, thanks. (Again, you could have told me this 6 months ago!)
Neighbor D: Hey, I saw my Prince is in the same class as your Eldest. They're going to have so much fun together!
Me: (starting to see a pattern)Yeah, he seemed really happy about it, too. Hey, just out of curiosity, do you attend PTA meetings? Volunteer at the school, ever?
Neighbor D: No, I can't find the time with my job and all. Why?
Me: (suspicion confirmed!!) Oh, no reason...
So, yup, as far as I can tell, any parent too busy or tuned out or clueless to know ahead of time to request their child not have Teacher C, has their kid in Teacher C's class. In other words, the kids of parents who don't play the social game suffer the consequences of dealing with this teacher.
What's a devoted mom to do? Well, my workload is down this year. I actually have a few hours off during the school day here and there. Time to get linked up! Time to stalk, I mean help the teacher! Time to get to know the PTA moms!
Two months into the school year: It took a while for my eager offers of volunteer time to get accepted, but I'm finally helping the PTA moms once a week, and the teacher (I get to be in the classroom!) twice a month. Getting to know some of the friendlier people in the cast of characters. When I've helped, the class has been uniformly a bit noisy and wild; but we're talking a group of 24 second-graders, too. I'm not sure about this.
In the meantime, I've listened to complaints from Eldest that the classroom is noisy; only two occassions where the teacher punished the entire class; that everybody at his table talks too much and he can't get his work done; etc.
Then, I attend his teacher conference. He's off-task a lot, doesn't finish his work on time. Grades are fine. Not a behavior problem or a rule-breaker, but needs improvement in work habits regardless. I let the teacher know (nicely; I don't burn bridges unless I must!) that he's complained about how distracting the class is; she brushes it off.
I let it stew for a day. Then I come in for my volunteer time.
On my way out, I have a pleasant conversation with the principal. He's seen me around the last month or so, helping out (he's new: advantage, me: as far as he knows, I always hang out at the schol like this). He doesn't mind taking a few minutes to chat. I ask what he thinks of Teacher C. He feels that her class is no worse than others. I'm not sure I believe him. But my kid isn't struggling academically, his anxiety hasn't hit the roof, so... save Mama Bear for another day. I've let the principal know that I'm watching, and concerned. Perhaps even if he doesn't admit it to me, he'll keep an eye on the class; perhaps not. But, before I leave, he offers me, unasked, this proof of my whole hypothesis:
"I don't get into letting parents ask for specific teachers... but, come spring, let's sit down and have a talk about what kind of classroom environment you feel would be the best match for Eldest. We can certainly do our best to find the best fit we can for next year."
Yup, I have to play the social game. Oh, and put up with a less-than-ideal teacher for this year; which I can do, as long as niether Teacher nor Eldest gets any worse. She's not nearly as bad as the teacher nightmare this inventive mom had to get rid of. (Go there, read it; be insprired!)
Eldest is in second grade this year. I haven't had a lot of time (work committments) the last two years to stalk, I mean help, his teachers. Or the PTA. So, aside from a few neighbors and friends from preschool, I haven't exactly been hooked in to the school's social network. Who cares, right? I've got friends, they've got friends, whatever.
Scene: mid-August, immediately after the class/teacher assignments are posted. Everyone in the neighborhood is discussing the results.
Neighbor A: We got Teacher B, but I knew we would; last year's teacher said my little Princess would do well with her. Well, that she'd do fine as long as she didn't get Teacher C, I've heard she's a nightmare! Good thing last year's teacher put in a good word for us!! Who did your Eldest get?
Me: Teacher C. (WTF is wrong with this teacher? I didn't know we had awful teachers, I've never heard the gossip.)
Neighbor B: Oh, I heard your Eldest got Teacher C. I'm so sorry! When Rosie had her two years ago, she would come home crying every day. Turns out she lets the class run wild until she's had enough, then screams at all of them.
Me: (stunned silence) Uh, thanks. (and you couldn't have told me this 6 months ago?!?)
Neighbor C: Do you know the PTA president? Oh, I thought you did, since she lives just a couple blocks from you. Anyway, she told me that, of the whole building, the teacher she most wants her kids to avoid is Teacher C.
Me: (Getting used to these stories by now but steamed nonetheless) Uh, thanks. (Again, you could have told me this 6 months ago!)
Neighbor D: Hey, I saw my Prince is in the same class as your Eldest. They're going to have so much fun together!
Me: (starting to see a pattern)Yeah, he seemed really happy about it, too. Hey, just out of curiosity, do you attend PTA meetings? Volunteer at the school, ever?
Neighbor D: No, I can't find the time with my job and all. Why?
Me: (suspicion confirmed!!) Oh, no reason...
So, yup, as far as I can tell, any parent too busy or tuned out or clueless to know ahead of time to request their child not have Teacher C, has their kid in Teacher C's class. In other words, the kids of parents who don't play the social game suffer the consequences of dealing with this teacher.
What's a devoted mom to do? Well, my workload is down this year. I actually have a few hours off during the school day here and there. Time to get linked up! Time to stalk, I mean help the teacher! Time to get to know the PTA moms!
Two months into the school year: It took a while for my eager offers of volunteer time to get accepted, but I'm finally helping the PTA moms once a week, and the teacher (I get to be in the classroom!) twice a month. Getting to know some of the friendlier people in the cast of characters. When I've helped, the class has been uniformly a bit noisy and wild; but we're talking a group of 24 second-graders, too. I'm not sure about this.
In the meantime, I've listened to complaints from Eldest that the classroom is noisy; only two occassions where the teacher punished the entire class; that everybody at his table talks too much and he can't get his work done; etc.
Then, I attend his teacher conference. He's off-task a lot, doesn't finish his work on time. Grades are fine. Not a behavior problem or a rule-breaker, but needs improvement in work habits regardless. I let the teacher know (nicely; I don't burn bridges unless I must!) that he's complained about how distracting the class is; she brushes it off.
I let it stew for a day. Then I come in for my volunteer time.
On my way out, I have a pleasant conversation with the principal. He's seen me around the last month or so, helping out (he's new: advantage, me: as far as he knows, I always hang out at the schol like this). He doesn't mind taking a few minutes to chat. I ask what he thinks of Teacher C. He feels that her class is no worse than others. I'm not sure I believe him. But my kid isn't struggling academically, his anxiety hasn't hit the roof, so... save Mama Bear for another day. I've let the principal know that I'm watching, and concerned. Perhaps even if he doesn't admit it to me, he'll keep an eye on the class; perhaps not. But, before I leave, he offers me, unasked, this proof of my whole hypothesis:
"I don't get into letting parents ask for specific teachers... but, come spring, let's sit down and have a talk about what kind of classroom environment you feel would be the best match for Eldest. We can certainly do our best to find the best fit we can for next year."
Yup, I have to play the social game. Oh, and put up with a less-than-ideal teacher for this year; which I can do, as long as niether Teacher nor Eldest gets any worse. She's not nearly as bad as the teacher nightmare this inventive mom had to get rid of. (Go there, read it; be insprired!)
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
I am _____
Prompted by a blog I read:
I am someone who was raised by selfish parents; too busy with their own lives to truly care what the kids were up to (in my case, being abused by an older brother).
I am someone who decides every single damn day to put my own kids first whenever possible. I love them completely and fiercly. I am mama bear. Don't try to get in the way of my kids, or I will run you over. I struggle to let them fight their own battles when they can, but they're little yet. I spent three months fighting an idiot rule on my daughter's behalf. It was exhausting, but I'd do it all over again.
I am a therapist. I help others cope with their challenges; while some days struggling with my own. I care for the people I help, and will always do my best for them. But it's also exhausting some days. I am sure that I've chosen the right career path.
I am a wife. I love my husband more than any other creature on earth besides our kids, but some days I have to consciously choose to remain a wife. This marriage thing is HARD.
I am a friend. I don't open mysel fup to new people often, because at times people will blow me off without explanation and that hurts. But if I've let you in, I hold nothing back. I will bring you medicine and popsicles when you're sick, or help you plot revenge. Whatever you need!
I am not always happy with who I am or where I'm at in life. I struggle some days to maintain perspective. But when I can gain that larger perspective, I feel pretty damn lucky to be where I'm at.
I am someone who was raised by selfish parents; too busy with their own lives to truly care what the kids were up to (in my case, being abused by an older brother).
I am someone who decides every single damn day to put my own kids first whenever possible. I love them completely and fiercly. I am mama bear. Don't try to get in the way of my kids, or I will run you over. I struggle to let them fight their own battles when they can, but they're little yet. I spent three months fighting an idiot rule on my daughter's behalf. It was exhausting, but I'd do it all over again.
I am a therapist. I help others cope with their challenges; while some days struggling with my own. I care for the people I help, and will always do my best for them. But it's also exhausting some days. I am sure that I've chosen the right career path.
I am a wife. I love my husband more than any other creature on earth besides our kids, but some days I have to consciously choose to remain a wife. This marriage thing is HARD.
I am a friend. I don't open mysel fup to new people often, because at times people will blow me off without explanation and that hurts. But if I've let you in, I hold nothing back. I will bring you medicine and popsicles when you're sick, or help you plot revenge. Whatever you need!
I am not always happy with who I am or where I'm at in life. I struggle some days to maintain perspective. But when I can gain that larger perspective, I feel pretty damn lucky to be where I'm at.
Friday, September 14, 2012
Attitude: gratitude
Ok, so I've been busy lately. Busy NOT getting my possible dream job, busy adjusting to kids in elementary school, busy tracking politics.
It's this last that's gotten me into trouble. I've been asked on facebook if I'm ok; I seem angry lately. One, I don't use facebook to tout my "perfect" (i.e., imaginary) life, I tell the truth. Two, yes, I'm angry; whenever I pay attention to politics, I see voter suppression and attempts to ensure that my daughter doesn't have the same choices/control in her life which I've had, let alone equality. Sorry, that brings out the Mama Bear. If I seem too angry to you, you're not paying attention, in my opinion.
However, in perspective, yes, I am ok. And that's the part I want to share today. I was walking around the neighborhood this morning. Beautiful, sunny, breezy, early fall morning. Watching squirrels, looking at flowers, listening to birds. Who could be angry when faced with that?
I caught myself smiling, watching the dog sniff and the two-year-old giggle at butterflies. I am contemplating, this morning, how lucky I am. Lucky to have healthy, relatively happy kids who love school; and who are growing into people who are kind, caring, and thoughtful. Lucky to have a career I enjoy, even if my current employer is a nightmare (long-term plan: get out; short-term plan: pay the bills). Lucky to have a sister who knows nearly everything about me and loves me anyway; and a good friend of whom I could say the same. Lucky to live in a neighborhood which is safe, where I don't hesitate to take a walk with the overly friendly dog and the pokey little toddler. A neighborhood where things put out on the devil strip are free for the taking; but where lawn furniture, toys, and bikes left in front yards or on porches seem never to disappear.
And, yes, even though I didn't get that fantastic job, I can say that I'm grateful even for that. This is giving me time to attend continuing education workshops, volunteer at school, play with the two-year-old, get some holiday shopping done early (like I used to, Before Kids), and even revisit my favorite old friend reading for fun.
Am I ok? Yes, I have a pretty good life. Is it perfect? Absolutely not; but no one's is. (If anyone you know claims to have the perfect life, be very, very suspicious!) But it is absolutely good enough; and that's what really matters.
It's this last that's gotten me into trouble. I've been asked on facebook if I'm ok; I seem angry lately. One, I don't use facebook to tout my "perfect" (i.e., imaginary) life, I tell the truth. Two, yes, I'm angry; whenever I pay attention to politics, I see voter suppression and attempts to ensure that my daughter doesn't have the same choices/control in her life which I've had, let alone equality. Sorry, that brings out the Mama Bear. If I seem too angry to you, you're not paying attention, in my opinion.
However, in perspective, yes, I am ok. And that's the part I want to share today. I was walking around the neighborhood this morning. Beautiful, sunny, breezy, early fall morning. Watching squirrels, looking at flowers, listening to birds. Who could be angry when faced with that?
I caught myself smiling, watching the dog sniff and the two-year-old giggle at butterflies. I am contemplating, this morning, how lucky I am. Lucky to have healthy, relatively happy kids who love school; and who are growing into people who are kind, caring, and thoughtful. Lucky to have a career I enjoy, even if my current employer is a nightmare (long-term plan: get out; short-term plan: pay the bills). Lucky to have a sister who knows nearly everything about me and loves me anyway; and a good friend of whom I could say the same. Lucky to live in a neighborhood which is safe, where I don't hesitate to take a walk with the overly friendly dog and the pokey little toddler. A neighborhood where things put out on the devil strip are free for the taking; but where lawn furniture, toys, and bikes left in front yards or on porches seem never to disappear.
And, yes, even though I didn't get that fantastic job, I can say that I'm grateful even for that. This is giving me time to attend continuing education workshops, volunteer at school, play with the two-year-old, get some holiday shopping done early (like I used to, Before Kids), and even revisit my favorite old friend reading for fun.
Am I ok? Yes, I have a pretty good life. Is it perfect? Absolutely not; but no one's is. (If anyone you know claims to have the perfect life, be very, very suspicious!) But it is absolutely good enough; and that's what really matters.
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
Aunt Flo and Me
Listen, Flo... it's hard for you to hear, I know, but... I'm really done with your visits. You've been showing up at my house on a regular basis, mostly uninvited, for thirty years now. I'm just tired of your company. There's no other way to put it!
Yeah, it was awful at first when you appeared. I was only 10 for goodness sake. I didn't know how to manage your visits, nor was I at all comfortable disucssing you with others. You've always been a bit too... enthusiastic, shall we say? I was harrassed endlessly in middle school thanks to you and your unexpected visits. I still can't look back at that time with a sense of humor, as you do. Those practical jokes? Still not funny, no matter what you say.
Then, there came a time in my life when I looked forward to your visits. You knew that eventually you'd have me stuck like that, didn't you? There was a time that if you didn't arrive early, I got very concerned about whether you were planning to visit at all. We got along ok during those years. I'd welcome your visits but hate your enthusiasm, but we had a deal worked out: you arrive as expected, I'll take care of you while you're here.
Eventually, I was ready for kids. You were most appreciated then. You were useful to me, although I looked forward at that time to not seeing you for a few months. Again, we found a workable balance for a brief time. But, Flo, I'm done with kids. You can go now. Really. I'm sorry to say that, after all these years, I don't think I'll even miss you. We've had our fun. You've done your job. Just go.
(Now, where's that "off" switch?)
Yeah, it was awful at first when you appeared. I was only 10 for goodness sake. I didn't know how to manage your visits, nor was I at all comfortable disucssing you with others. You've always been a bit too... enthusiastic, shall we say? I was harrassed endlessly in middle school thanks to you and your unexpected visits. I still can't look back at that time with a sense of humor, as you do. Those practical jokes? Still not funny, no matter what you say.
Then, there came a time in my life when I looked forward to your visits. You knew that eventually you'd have me stuck like that, didn't you? There was a time that if you didn't arrive early, I got very concerned about whether you were planning to visit at all. We got along ok during those years. I'd welcome your visits but hate your enthusiasm, but we had a deal worked out: you arrive as expected, I'll take care of you while you're here.
Eventually, I was ready for kids. You were most appreciated then. You were useful to me, although I looked forward at that time to not seeing you for a few months. Again, we found a workable balance for a brief time. But, Flo, I'm done with kids. You can go now. Really. I'm sorry to say that, after all these years, I don't think I'll even miss you. We've had our fun. You've done your job. Just go.
(Now, where's that "off" switch?)
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