Thanksgiving is obviously, a time to be thankful. This year for me, it's more than being grateful for blessings, it's also about being aware and being present. This morning while I was feeding my kids, my little one asked for more milk. As I poured him more milk, I stood there thinking about all the mothers in the world who couldn't even give their children a cup of clean water. Later, after the kids had breakfast and were cleaned up, I sat down to eat a quick bite. Again, my little one toddled through the kitchen and asked for a bite. As I relinquished half of my breakfast to those chubby little hands, I thought of all the mothers who had to chose between food for themselves and food for their children. Hunger even in my own backyard of Tennessee is a desperate situation for so many people. I have never known it. My children have never known it. And I would venture to say my parents never really knew hunger. They may have known want or even tight circumstances for periods of their lives, but true hunger, I doubt it. I hope we never do.
So today, as I put the finishing touches on the casserole and brownies that I'm taking to my in-laws, I pause and give thanks for uber-blessings, clean water, clean air, warmth, food, family, and friends. May none of us ever know hunger or thirst. May we strive to meet the needs of those who do, not only during the holidays but all the time. Blessings and peace to you today and always.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
In Community II
To continue the thread from yesterday's posting, I wanted to take a moment to share with my readers the infinite blessings I receive from being in community with others. The term synergy comes to mind. When many people are acting in one accord, it is amazing what can happen!
Living in community with my sisters (and brothers, but mostly sisters) has strengthened me in so many ways. For example, there is something powerful and holy about knowing you are prayed for by others--particularly in those moments when you just can't pray for yourself anymore. You can truly feel yourself being carried on a wave of caring, love, and communion with God. It is amazing to me how a note from a friend in my mailbox lifts me up. I find it mood altering to spend an evening in good company with good conversation and good wine making plans and discussing life's problems. It is energizing to do practical "good deeds." Not only does useful work get done, but the end result brings people together in ways that create a positive, non-threatening, and interesting atmosphere.
Being in community with others also keeps me humble, honest, and focused. It isn't about others being grateful, it is about my own personal gratitude. Is my heart in the right place? Are my motives selfless or selfish? Is my participation a help or a hindrance? In the event I do get on my high horse every now and then, I have honest friends available to call me to account. What a blessing I have so many beacons of light on my journey. There is nothing more valuable on earth than a good, honest, and true friend to call you out.
Have you ever participated in a recipe exchange "chain" email? Well, group participation is kind of like that. You post two recipes and you get 20 in your inbox. Putting yourself in the stream of God's grace and allowing Him to bless others through you, is like being a ripple on a pond. The chain reaction of events goes on and on and circles back to you again and again and again. I have been so blessed by the wonderful women in my life. We have created many wonderful moments in the last year that have left lasting impressions on us as well as our communities. Every time we get together for work or for play, our own lives are enriched just by being present.
I close with a quote from a piece of fiction I am currently reading: "Mr. Simpless, my parson friend thinks [Grace means] that if one cares deeply about someone or something new, one throws a kind of energy out into the world, and "fruitfulness" is drawn in." (p. 116, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows)
Living in community with my sisters (and brothers, but mostly sisters) has strengthened me in so many ways. For example, there is something powerful and holy about knowing you are prayed for by others--particularly in those moments when you just can't pray for yourself anymore. You can truly feel yourself being carried on a wave of caring, love, and communion with God. It is amazing to me how a note from a friend in my mailbox lifts me up. I find it mood altering to spend an evening in good company with good conversation and good wine making plans and discussing life's problems. It is energizing to do practical "good deeds." Not only does useful work get done, but the end result brings people together in ways that create a positive, non-threatening, and interesting atmosphere.
Being in community with others also keeps me humble, honest, and focused. It isn't about others being grateful, it is about my own personal gratitude. Is my heart in the right place? Are my motives selfless or selfish? Is my participation a help or a hindrance? In the event I do get on my high horse every now and then, I have honest friends available to call me to account. What a blessing I have so many beacons of light on my journey. There is nothing more valuable on earth than a good, honest, and true friend to call you out.
Have you ever participated in a recipe exchange "chain" email? Well, group participation is kind of like that. You post two recipes and you get 20 in your inbox. Putting yourself in the stream of God's grace and allowing Him to bless others through you, is like being a ripple on a pond. The chain reaction of events goes on and on and circles back to you again and again and again. I have been so blessed by the wonderful women in my life. We have created many wonderful moments in the last year that have left lasting impressions on us as well as our communities. Every time we get together for work or for play, our own lives are enriched just by being present.
I close with a quote from a piece of fiction I am currently reading: "Mr. Simpless, my parson friend thinks [Grace means] that if one cares deeply about someone or something new, one throws a kind of energy out into the world, and "fruitfulness" is drawn in." (p. 116, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Society by Mary Ann Shaffer and Annie Barrows)
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Living In Community
We Davidsonians tend to be civic minded people. You know, often times when I read all the alumni news, after the surge of pride and interest, a little self-doubt and insignificance begins to creep in. But I've been working on those feelings and in the last year I've developed a new perspective about what a civic minded Davidsonian (who no longer lives on campus) looks like. Perhaps it's all the Facebook time I've been logging. Catching up with everyone and their families and what they're doing with their lives has helped me look at my own life with clearer eyes. Perhaps it's staying connected with a dear friend whose daily life is its own challenge. She uses her own limitations to change those around her through sharing her very personal story in a weekly blog. Perhaps it's spending time with former Davidsonians and their own children and watching how they engage in their own communities on a daily basis.
I probably won't ever do anything spectacular or world changing. I had the audacity once, to tell my English teacher I wanted to be an ambassador. Well, it turns out I am an ambassador, just not to a foreign country. Instead I reach out and proffer olive branches, world peace, and mutually beneficial trade propositions in small ways. I hold little hands in parking lots and crossing the street. I try to help two small boys and their friends who come and go through my house reign in aggression and curiosity and channel that energy into productive play and participation in preschool, Sunday School, and with our neighbors at the playground. I lead a circle of friends by helping us all stay connected through emails, phone calls, food, and friendship. I support another Davidsonian in her quest to revitalize and reshape a children's ministry in our church by participating in as many opportunities as my schedule allows. I facilitate a Bible study gathering of women that spans three generations. None of these activities is particularly earth shattering, but each of these activities shares a common thread--community engagement.
Community participation is so critical to our well being as human beings. In all our ways (big and small) we seek to better the lives of those around us as well as bettering ourselves by pursuing a life lived in community with one another. While none of my current pursuits fall under the banner of social justice or economic development or political change, all of my activities help me stay connected with other women. I am so fortunate to know so many who when hearing the call: take dinner to a friend in need, pick up a child at school for a mom who has an emergency, organize a family service project that exposes their children to those who make it work with less, collect school supplies, coats, backpacks, bedding, clothing, and linens for families who have sustained losses, are starting over, or need help bridging the gaps. We take care of each other and collectively work to take care of others.
In my current stage in life as caretaker of small children it makes sense to use my time and energy wisely doing what I am able and not hankering for CNN news headlines. Since so many Davidsonians actually make CNN with big picture decisions, it is sometimes hard for me to remind myself that even my small little life is important in big ways to others around me. So I do my part with a cheerful countenance and with joy in my heart (most days). I never know when doing a small thing like taking dinner to a friend will have a big impact. Maybe that rotisserie chicken I picked up at BiLo to go with the green bean casserole I made will free up enough time for her to finish that presentation she was doing before the crisis hit that prompted me to bring dinner--and her idea revolutionizes how we manage health care. Who knows? Maybe I'm teaching a child who will grow up to cure cancer. Maybe my friends' daughters and sons, having been raised in homes where love for neighbor is a way of life, grow up to start foundations that change lives.
Engaging in community and working towards sustaining community through friendship, service, work, and play is really an extension of my youthful desire to make a difference in the world. Making a difference isn't always about the big things. Often times, it's about the small things--a note to a friend suffering a loss, a thank you note to a friend for their empathy and help, an intentional word of kindness to someone difficult to get along with. God is in the big and the small. If I can take care of some of the small, maybe it will give Him more time to do the big. So I think I do make a difference these days--one playdate, carpool, or casserole at a time.
I probably won't ever do anything spectacular or world changing. I had the audacity once, to tell my English teacher I wanted to be an ambassador. Well, it turns out I am an ambassador, just not to a foreign country. Instead I reach out and proffer olive branches, world peace, and mutually beneficial trade propositions in small ways. I hold little hands in parking lots and crossing the street. I try to help two small boys and their friends who come and go through my house reign in aggression and curiosity and channel that energy into productive play and participation in preschool, Sunday School, and with our neighbors at the playground. I lead a circle of friends by helping us all stay connected through emails, phone calls, food, and friendship. I support another Davidsonian in her quest to revitalize and reshape a children's ministry in our church by participating in as many opportunities as my schedule allows. I facilitate a Bible study gathering of women that spans three generations. None of these activities is particularly earth shattering, but each of these activities shares a common thread--community engagement.
Community participation is so critical to our well being as human beings. In all our ways (big and small) we seek to better the lives of those around us as well as bettering ourselves by pursuing a life lived in community with one another. While none of my current pursuits fall under the banner of social justice or economic development or political change, all of my activities help me stay connected with other women. I am so fortunate to know so many who when hearing the call: take dinner to a friend in need, pick up a child at school for a mom who has an emergency, organize a family service project that exposes their children to those who make it work with less, collect school supplies, coats, backpacks, bedding, clothing, and linens for families who have sustained losses, are starting over, or need help bridging the gaps. We take care of each other and collectively work to take care of others.
In my current stage in life as caretaker of small children it makes sense to use my time and energy wisely doing what I am able and not hankering for CNN news headlines. Since so many Davidsonians actually make CNN with big picture decisions, it is sometimes hard for me to remind myself that even my small little life is important in big ways to others around me. So I do my part with a cheerful countenance and with joy in my heart (most days). I never know when doing a small thing like taking dinner to a friend will have a big impact. Maybe that rotisserie chicken I picked up at BiLo to go with the green bean casserole I made will free up enough time for her to finish that presentation she was doing before the crisis hit that prompted me to bring dinner--and her idea revolutionizes how we manage health care. Who knows? Maybe I'm teaching a child who will grow up to cure cancer. Maybe my friends' daughters and sons, having been raised in homes where love for neighbor is a way of life, grow up to start foundations that change lives.
Engaging in community and working towards sustaining community through friendship, service, work, and play is really an extension of my youthful desire to make a difference in the world. Making a difference isn't always about the big things. Often times, it's about the small things--a note to a friend suffering a loss, a thank you note to a friend for their empathy and help, an intentional word of kindness to someone difficult to get along with. God is in the big and the small. If I can take care of some of the small, maybe it will give Him more time to do the big. So I think I do make a difference these days--one playdate, carpool, or casserole at a time.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Making Connections
How do you teach empathy? I try to model it when I can. I try to explain it when the opportunity arises. But interestingly enough, whenever I try to be a "good parent" and do all that talking and explaining, my kids up and kick me in the teeth. I even try to keep it short and sweet and in easy words. No dice. I guess empathy is not something you can teach, but something that must be experienced. I remain hopeful, after all, my son is only five.
It is unnerving to see him tease his brother unmercifully, laugh when someone gets hurt or when someone else gets in trouble, and simply not care that he has made a poor choice. I can't decide if he is hiding his true feelings and pretending not to care, or he doesn't get it, or he simply doesn't care. Maybe it's because I'm female and males have totally different reactions--even at this young age? My husband doesn't seem overly concerned about any of this. Maybe I'm over-reading it. I don't know, but I'm concerned.
Anyway, tonight I found part of my son's medicine regime (he takes 3 or 4 things right now for allergies and wheezing) crushed up under the table. Now I know this isn't an accident because it happens to be the tablet that tastes the worst and that my son complains about the most. I also know it is his, because no one else in the house takes it. I called him into the kitchen and we talked about a) hiding medicine is just like telling a lie, b) not taking medicine keeps us from getting well, and c) how mommy understands exactly how he feels about taking medicine. We pretty much got part b down, but the rest of it? Well I guess we'll see.
The reason I am so upset about the medicine under the table is, I happen to know a little girl about my son's age who used to hide her asthma medication. I also remember getting in trouble many times for hiding it, flushing it, spitting it out, etc. I also remember how frustrated my parents were by it because a) I was lying, b) I wasn't getting better because I wouldn't take it, and c) it was very expensive medicine. Looking back, I suppose I'm as guilty as my child, because it is obvious to me now (as an adult) that I didn't care very much about a, b, or c. I got caught at least 3 times in my recollection. These were not pleasant moments.
I hurt for my son. I hurt for him that he has to take this medicine to stay well enough to play outside and go to school. I hurt for him that I have to give him bad tasting yucky stuff. I feel like the bad guy, even though I'm the good guy. The reason it is so hard for me to play nurse is that I KNOW how frustrating it is to have to keep taking this stuff every time he gets sick. I was that kid. I missed more recess than I played. I stayed inside almost every day between October and June for more years than I can remember.
My son loves to hear me tell stories about when I was little. He loves to hear about the time I fell off a scooter at my friend Jennifer's house and scraped my knee really really badly. I told him that one, when he fell off his bike the first time. He begs to hear about the time my sister and I saw Santa Claus by hiding under the dining room table and watching him walk through our house to find the living room when we were 3 and 4. I told him that one when he was four, to keep him in his bed at night.
So I tried to share my story with him tonight about how I used to hide my medicine. I didn't go into details for fear of giving him ideas--but I did share with him just how much I understood his dislike for medicine, why he was driven to hide it, and why I wasn't mad at him for doing it. I did however tell him that I was very upset about the lie he told and we reviewed what a lie is and what it means. I don't guess this story was nearly as interesting because he didn't seem to care. Maybe in the morning when it's medicine time, he'll ask me to tell him the story again.
I feel let down on a couple of levels. I didn't make an important connection with him on of all things, honesty and empathy. He didn't appreciate my story (well that's my problem, but it still didn't feel good). And he still lied and wasn't sorry. I feel like I'm getting it all wrong. Fortunately, tomorrow is another day for me and for my son. We can only try again. I have a hunch this won't be the last time I tell him the story of hiding my asthma medicine, after all, I hid it many, many times.
It is unnerving to see him tease his brother unmercifully, laugh when someone gets hurt or when someone else gets in trouble, and simply not care that he has made a poor choice. I can't decide if he is hiding his true feelings and pretending not to care, or he doesn't get it, or he simply doesn't care. Maybe it's because I'm female and males have totally different reactions--even at this young age? My husband doesn't seem overly concerned about any of this. Maybe I'm over-reading it. I don't know, but I'm concerned.
Anyway, tonight I found part of my son's medicine regime (he takes 3 or 4 things right now for allergies and wheezing) crushed up under the table. Now I know this isn't an accident because it happens to be the tablet that tastes the worst and that my son complains about the most. I also know it is his, because no one else in the house takes it. I called him into the kitchen and we talked about a) hiding medicine is just like telling a lie, b) not taking medicine keeps us from getting well, and c) how mommy understands exactly how he feels about taking medicine. We pretty much got part b down, but the rest of it? Well I guess we'll see.
The reason I am so upset about the medicine under the table is, I happen to know a little girl about my son's age who used to hide her asthma medication. I also remember getting in trouble many times for hiding it, flushing it, spitting it out, etc. I also remember how frustrated my parents were by it because a) I was lying, b) I wasn't getting better because I wouldn't take it, and c) it was very expensive medicine. Looking back, I suppose I'm as guilty as my child, because it is obvious to me now (as an adult) that I didn't care very much about a, b, or c. I got caught at least 3 times in my recollection. These were not pleasant moments.
I hurt for my son. I hurt for him that he has to take this medicine to stay well enough to play outside and go to school. I hurt for him that I have to give him bad tasting yucky stuff. I feel like the bad guy, even though I'm the good guy. The reason it is so hard for me to play nurse is that I KNOW how frustrating it is to have to keep taking this stuff every time he gets sick. I was that kid. I missed more recess than I played. I stayed inside almost every day between October and June for more years than I can remember.
My son loves to hear me tell stories about when I was little. He loves to hear about the time I fell off a scooter at my friend Jennifer's house and scraped my knee really really badly. I told him that one, when he fell off his bike the first time. He begs to hear about the time my sister and I saw Santa Claus by hiding under the dining room table and watching him walk through our house to find the living room when we were 3 and 4. I told him that one when he was four, to keep him in his bed at night.
So I tried to share my story with him tonight about how I used to hide my medicine. I didn't go into details for fear of giving him ideas--but I did share with him just how much I understood his dislike for medicine, why he was driven to hide it, and why I wasn't mad at him for doing it. I did however tell him that I was very upset about the lie he told and we reviewed what a lie is and what it means. I don't guess this story was nearly as interesting because he didn't seem to care. Maybe in the morning when it's medicine time, he'll ask me to tell him the story again.
I feel let down on a couple of levels. I didn't make an important connection with him on of all things, honesty and empathy. He didn't appreciate my story (well that's my problem, but it still didn't feel good). And he still lied and wasn't sorry. I feel like I'm getting it all wrong. Fortunately, tomorrow is another day for me and for my son. We can only try again. I have a hunch this won't be the last time I tell him the story of hiding my asthma medicine, after all, I hid it many, many times.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Seeing with New Eyes
Living with a 5 year old is an interesting experience. My son meets the world with fresh eyes each morning. We recently went on a trip to Chicago and it was as if I had never been before. It amazes me how little it takes to impress a child. I am constantly in awe of how enthusiastic my son is about life. Everything is important. Everything is interesting.
My son loves airports. He loves going through the security gate. My normally shy guy (borderline recalcitrant to adults), just grins at the folks in uniform. He hands the security guard his boarding pass, grinning the whole way, gives the guy a high five, and bounds up to the end of the x-ray machine to watch his plastic bin holding his backpack and shoes come through the machine. "Did you put your bag in there too mom?" "Why do we have to take our shoes off?" "They won't lose my transformer will they?" "Can you tie my shoes?"
Then we proceed to the terminal. My son bumps into people the whole way because he is incapable of looking where he is walking. And man o man if we have a people mover or escalator before we get there, we have arrived in airport heaven. If I said it once, I said nine thousand times, "Pay attention to where you are walking. You are in the way of other people. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me or I will have to hold your hand. Walk with me. Walk right here beside me. Son. Son. SON--right here, NOW." Who knew reading off the gate letter/numbers, watching all the tvs, looking at the airplane models hanging from the ceiling, reading off the fast food marquees, and going down the up escalators full of people trying to go up was so intensely satisfying?
The plane ride itself just thrills him. "Oh, we're taking off now mom!" "Look at the clouds mom. What are clouds made of?" "Is that the man who is driving talking?" "What's in that cart?" "What's this button for mom?" "Help me play Leapster mom." "Let's go mom, we've landed." "On to the next plane." All of these comments and many more at top volume. Inside voice does not translate for him. He has not the executive functioning skills yet to monitor his volume, much to my chagrin. My mother would call this payback for surviving years of the same from me. Of course, she thinks I still have volume control issues, but that's another topic entirely.
Downtown Chicago was just over the top. We all had a wonderful day sight seeing. We spent a long time at the Museum of Science and Industry, and then we went to the Sears Tower. At the end of the day, my son says, "I got two toys, a movie, two escalator rides, a train ride, AND a water bottle out of the machine. Man I'm a really lucky boy mom."
And later when we traveled to Iowa City for his father's alumni meeting, it was just my son and me. We went out to lunch. "Hey will you draw this maze with me (on the kids' menu)?" We went to the antique car museum. "Wow look at all these cars. Do you think they have our car in here?" We went for ice cream. "Thanks for my ice cream mom, would you like a taste?" I just wanted to bottle the day and take it home with me.
There are other day to day reminders that he is just as easily enthusiastic about life at home as anywhere else. Getting stickers from the Walmart lady. Getting a sucker from the bank teller. Riding the escalator at the mall. Getting a balloon at the end of lunch at Chick-fil-A. Having a snack if he finishes his lunch at school. Going by an ambulance or fire truck with the siren on. Practicing piano together just because it's fun to sit together and do something while little brother naps. I want to absorb all these sweet precious things. One, because it reminds me how little he still is. And two, someday when he's a teenager and I think he has been inhabited by aliens, I want to remember that once I could rock his world with a popsicle and a kiss. It also helps me keep a lid on my frustration when I arrive at a teachable moment and blow it.
Taking my son on this little excursion to Chicago was like signing a new lease on our relationship. I forgot what it was like to have just one child (little brother stayed home). I had recently forgotten how much fun and how funny and truly insightful my 5 year old can be. I am so very blessed to have the opportunity to travel at all. To make memories like these with my son is extra-special. I hope someday he'll be able to remember this trip. Maybe he won't, but I know I will. So, "Thanks son, I'm really a lucky mom."
My son loves airports. He loves going through the security gate. My normally shy guy (borderline recalcitrant to adults), just grins at the folks in uniform. He hands the security guard his boarding pass, grinning the whole way, gives the guy a high five, and bounds up to the end of the x-ray machine to watch his plastic bin holding his backpack and shoes come through the machine. "Did you put your bag in there too mom?" "Why do we have to take our shoes off?" "They won't lose my transformer will they?" "Can you tie my shoes?"
Then we proceed to the terminal. My son bumps into people the whole way because he is incapable of looking where he is walking. And man o man if we have a people mover or escalator before we get there, we have arrived in airport heaven. If I said it once, I said nine thousand times, "Pay attention to where you are walking. You are in the way of other people. Stay with me. Stay with me. Stay with me or I will have to hold your hand. Walk with me. Walk right here beside me. Son. Son. SON--right here, NOW." Who knew reading off the gate letter/numbers, watching all the tvs, looking at the airplane models hanging from the ceiling, reading off the fast food marquees, and going down the up escalators full of people trying to go up was so intensely satisfying?
The plane ride itself just thrills him. "Oh, we're taking off now mom!" "Look at the clouds mom. What are clouds made of?" "Is that the man who is driving talking?" "What's in that cart?" "What's this button for mom?" "Help me play Leapster mom." "Let's go mom, we've landed." "On to the next plane." All of these comments and many more at top volume. Inside voice does not translate for him. He has not the executive functioning skills yet to monitor his volume, much to my chagrin. My mother would call this payback for surviving years of the same from me. Of course, she thinks I still have volume control issues, but that's another topic entirely.
Downtown Chicago was just over the top. We all had a wonderful day sight seeing. We spent a long time at the Museum of Science and Industry, and then we went to the Sears Tower. At the end of the day, my son says, "I got two toys, a movie, two escalator rides, a train ride, AND a water bottle out of the machine. Man I'm a really lucky boy mom."
And later when we traveled to Iowa City for his father's alumni meeting, it was just my son and me. We went out to lunch. "Hey will you draw this maze with me (on the kids' menu)?" We went to the antique car museum. "Wow look at all these cars. Do you think they have our car in here?" We went for ice cream. "Thanks for my ice cream mom, would you like a taste?" I just wanted to bottle the day and take it home with me.
There are other day to day reminders that he is just as easily enthusiastic about life at home as anywhere else. Getting stickers from the Walmart lady. Getting a sucker from the bank teller. Riding the escalator at the mall. Getting a balloon at the end of lunch at Chick-fil-A. Having a snack if he finishes his lunch at school. Going by an ambulance or fire truck with the siren on. Practicing piano together just because it's fun to sit together and do something while little brother naps. I want to absorb all these sweet precious things. One, because it reminds me how little he still is. And two, someday when he's a teenager and I think he has been inhabited by aliens, I want to remember that once I could rock his world with a popsicle and a kiss. It also helps me keep a lid on my frustration when I arrive at a teachable moment and blow it.
Taking my son on this little excursion to Chicago was like signing a new lease on our relationship. I forgot what it was like to have just one child (little brother stayed home). I had recently forgotten how much fun and how funny and truly insightful my 5 year old can be. I am so very blessed to have the opportunity to travel at all. To make memories like these with my son is extra-special. I hope someday he'll be able to remember this trip. Maybe he won't, but I know I will. So, "Thanks son, I'm really a lucky mom."
Friday, August 21, 2009
School Days
I haven't blogged in a month. I'm sorely out of practice. I've been fairly busy with life, like back to school and all that jazz. Did I mention I was terribly unprepared?
After wishing for school to start since early July, I was surprised and slightly panicked that I was not ready. I forgot how hard it is to leave my children in the mornings. And let's not forget all the drama that goes into getting them into the car to drive to our destination. I forgot how the 2 year old's chubby little arms squeeze the breath out of me. Those crocodile tears over my leaving make me cry real ones. I forgot how proud I am on the outside at the casual over-the-shoulder "bye mom" from my 5 year old. On the inside I want to go to pieces, because I feel insignificant and not nearly cool enough. I forgot how much I love picking them up from school. They both come running as if I've been gone 20 years instead of a couple of hours. I forgot how little they will tell me about their day. They'd much they'd rather watch a movie, eat a snack, or try to kill each other with spatula swords. So yes, I was caught short when my emotional meter went from frazzled stay at home summer mom to tearful school year mom of preschoolers.
I remind myself of a sage piece of advice another mom once gave me. She relayed a statement her mom told her. She said, "Think about how blessed you are that your child is ready and able to go to the next level. Think how different your life would be if they couldn't." So my tears are really tears of joy. My sadness is really shock over a new state of "need less of you today, mom."
Monday through Thursday and before too long Monday through Friday, I'll put on my drop off armor and go forward. A kiss if they'll take it. A quick "I love you." And a promise to always come back after nap. I shall walk down those hallways and not look back. They need to know I know they can do it. It's going to be a good year.
After wishing for school to start since early July, I was surprised and slightly panicked that I was not ready. I forgot how hard it is to leave my children in the mornings. And let's not forget all the drama that goes into getting them into the car to drive to our destination. I forgot how the 2 year old's chubby little arms squeeze the breath out of me. Those crocodile tears over my leaving make me cry real ones. I forgot how proud I am on the outside at the casual over-the-shoulder "bye mom" from my 5 year old. On the inside I want to go to pieces, because I feel insignificant and not nearly cool enough. I forgot how much I love picking them up from school. They both come running as if I've been gone 20 years instead of a couple of hours. I forgot how little they will tell me about their day. They'd much they'd rather watch a movie, eat a snack, or try to kill each other with spatula swords. So yes, I was caught short when my emotional meter went from frazzled stay at home summer mom to tearful school year mom of preschoolers.
I remind myself of a sage piece of advice another mom once gave me. She relayed a statement her mom told her. She said, "Think about how blessed you are that your child is ready and able to go to the next level. Think how different your life would be if they couldn't." So my tears are really tears of joy. My sadness is really shock over a new state of "need less of you today, mom."
Monday through Thursday and before too long Monday through Friday, I'll put on my drop off armor and go forward. A kiss if they'll take it. A quick "I love you." And a promise to always come back after nap. I shall walk down those hallways and not look back. They need to know I know they can do it. It's going to be a good year.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Here I Go Again Asking Unpopular Questions
I don't always look before I leap. I don't always watch my mouth. I often say things I wish I could take back. I often email messages I should have read more carefully. Hence why I will never run for public office. I want to jump into this health care debate, but I am having reservations about do so. And here is why. I have no idea what it would take to provide an answer that would make sense and be fair to enough people.
If you polled (you know we're so fond of polls in this country. Apparently you can figure out any right answer just by taking a poll) the American people in general, you would get similar answers across the board on health care. What I don't understand is why no one with representative power is listening. Why spend the money on the poll if you're just gonna toss out all the responses? Maybe to make the American people stop paying attention long enough to get this bill passed and go home so you can start campaigning for 2010? Perhaps I'm too cynical. Last time I checked though, it's all politics all the time. Which is why a satisfactory answer to health care is not going to come any time soon.
I've come to the conclusion there is no way to run a true issue-based campaign anymore. For one thing you still can't win (on a grand scale) as a third party candidate--it's too expensive. And in order to find "consensus" you have to sell your soul to Satan. Believe me I'm all for our Republic. After all, town hall democracy only works in town halls. For a country this large and this complicated, you have to have a representative republic. It's the best way to diffuse power grabbing and to slow single interests that may not be in our best interests. That's why it takes so damn long to get any laws passed. This is a good thing, truly. However, the downside to our Republic is that we've high-jacked ourselves by special interests and two party politics. Most representative Republics are multi-partied in general... but back to health care. I guess I'll jump in the fray while I'm on a roll.
If we are truly TRULY interested in reforming health care, we have to decide what we are going to reform. Are we going to reform the way we practice medicine? Are we going to reform the way we reimburse expenses? Are we going to reform our insurance system? What exactly are we going to change? And of course, how are we going to pay for it? I think the problem with health care reform (and I've said this before) is that we are talking about health care as if it is a single problem. Health care is so multi-faceted it's no wonder the current bill is 1000 pages. Excessive yes, but not surprising. Here are some questions that might make the next bill a few pages shorter, and maybe a bit meatier:
1. How do we create a system of preventative care available to all citizens? I think this is the fundamental question that is up for debate when we are talking about providing universal health care. Meat and potatoes medicine. Well visits, vaccinations, health screenings, blood work, basic cold and flu. Insurance companies don't make any money of off this kind of medicine, but people without insurance don't have access to this type of medicine in a way that is affordable to them. Health departments and ERs and walk-in clinics pick up the slack and are OVERRUN with people without the money to pay for basic routine care. This is one area I think is imperative that we figure out.
2. How do we create a system pool that spreads the risk of all these health problems that doesn't cost a gazillion dollars? I don't think we can. I think a pay as we go system is ultimately the only way we're going to be able to go in the end. I'm in a minority with this opinion, but it's what I think. Pretty much you pay as you go in other countries who have socialized medicine now. The universal bit is the preventative, basic stuff. If you want treatment above and beyond you go to the States. Insurance is basically a scam on healthy people that disproportionately favors people with health issues, that is until they lose a job, or move, or can't pay the premium anymore. If we're going to commit to a system that helps everybody we're going to have to put limitations on what helping everybody means. And we don't like to do that in America--at least not on camera. The way we work it now is to allow insurance companies to perform criminal acts like hiking insurance premiums to levels that people can't pay, dropping people unnecessarily without warning, and enacting the pre-existing condition clause whenever the mood strikes them. I think these above-mentioned practices are worse than a pay as you go system. It leaves people in a lurch, without hope, and in debt beyond what they will ever be able to pay. If you get kicked off your insurance policy or you can't pay the premium anymore, can you get a refund on all those months you paid that you didn't use the system? Now that would be exciting. But that would be like expecting a social security check when you're 67.5 years old if you were born after 1960.
3. How are we going to pay for research? We love the research. We love the potential cures. We love the fact that so many ugly things have been wiped out or are now manageable with drugs. It's part of what we do in America. I'm all for it. Someday I may need it. But it costs money. LOTS of money. There isn't an R&D budget in the country that could satisfy an immunologist or a pathologist. That's what they do. They search for a better way. It doesn't come cheap. It's not because they demand huge salaries, it's because what they do is very expensive. Did you really think a cure for cancer would be cheap? Do you really think AIDS will go away if we throw enough money at it?
4. How do we pay for an aging population? This is a serious question that is only going to get more serious. We walk a fine line in this country when it comes to saving people and helping people live longer. Think of all the degenerative diseases out there can last half a lifetime for people. Alzheimer's comes to mind right out of the box. Think about how early we save preemies in this country--24 weeks now. Not only do we "save" the very old indefinitely, but we "save" the very young too. I write the word "save" in quotes because sometimes I wonder what kind of life we are saving people for. I would rather take a bullet than spend my remaining years in a hospital bed in a skilled nursing facility. And there is a reason a human baby takes 40 weeks to make. Please don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to be callous, uncaring, or insensitive. I would never do that on purpose. If it was my child or my parent I would want heroic measures taken if I thought there was any chance the measures would work. We've made such huge strides in modern medicine in the last 100, 50, 25, even 10 years that there is every reason in the world to try to save a person. Doctors are successful alot of the time. That's what makes medicine so hard and why I'm not a doctor. How do you make rational decisions about life and death? I tend to emote more than rationalize. I wouldn't be good at medicine. Medical decisions from routine to cutting edge costs lots and lots and lots of money. And we want to pay for everybody. Everybody. Everybody.
5. How are we going to pay for it? Please please please don't say rich people. I'm over that answer. Wealthy Americans already pay a disproportionate amount of the bill already. I'm not sure when America (the place people STILL to this day come to be all they can be and make a better life) decided that rich people are the devil. Not only is it oxymoronic, it's demoralizing and frankly unjust.
While I'm harping on tired old rhetoric, the lines about how criminal it is that the richest country in the world has people who are poor, who don't have this, that, and the other is growing thin and tiresome. Did anyone ever take a moment to think that not everyone wants to be saved? Has anyone ever tried to determine what poor means? Did anyone ever take a moment to think about whether or not it is the fiscal responsibility of the rest of us to take care of everybody?
Conservatives run into problems when they try to answer the question of fiscal responsibility. It isn't that their logic is wrong, they just can't sell the response. 1) No it is not every person's fiscal responsibility to take care of everyone else. But there are many people out there who are in serious need by no fault of their own. 2) It may not be our fiscal responsibility, but there is a pretty powerful argument that we have a moral obligation or personal conviction to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves, or those in a spot of trouble, or who could use a hand up. Some people call that American patriotism. Some people call that Christianity in action. But then again, our President just spent a great part of his first 6 months convincing the world we aren't a Christian nation, so I'm not sure about that argument anymore. Last time I checked we didn't have an official religion or language, but I'm pretty sure we are a tolerant, Christian nation with a healthy dose of religions represented who worship in peace within the borders. I could be wrong.
The problem with the "who deserves help argument" is 1) the government does not discriminate between deserving and undeserving. If it did, no one would ever get a fair shake in the judicial system. Vigilante justice would prevail. Our founding fathers guarded against derailing a fair process by eliminating a deserving/undeserving argument as much as they could. 2) When money stays local, it's easier to discern the best use of funds to reach the most people. Now the government wants all that money and local sources of discernment are drying out. 3) Many of those we help cannot be put to the test because they are either children, victims of circumstance, or disabled. The part I can't figure out is how I am to help the people I am morally obligated to help when all the money I would use to help them goes to a morally reprehensible group of people located inside the beltway about 8 hours north of here under the guise of the IRS and some misguided notion that it is my patriotic duty to pay more because I make more.
So anyway, I hope Congress can figure all this out before the Summer recess. I'd hate for the momentum of insanity to be stopped by any serious questioning of voters. How on earth are we supposed to find serious, even-handed, long-lasting answers when we're rushing to pass a bill that no one has read!?!?!?! I tried to read it. I didn't make it all the way through. My husband thinks I've read more of it than most Congress members. He may be right, but Congress does have staffers to do that sort of thing for them. I urge you to contact your representatives and talk to the latest staffer about your questions on health care legislation. At least leave a message saying how you feel about it.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep tossing up these random questions even though the firestorm of responses from some of my friends will reign down upon me. Somebody has to ask the unpopular questions right? It's not like I'm running for office. I couldn't ask these questions if I had serious designs on an elected office. What does that say about us as voters? If I were to campaign on the serious, untouchables of politics I couldn't get elected at all. Hmm, definitely a blog for another day.
If you polled (you know we're so fond of polls in this country. Apparently you can figure out any right answer just by taking a poll) the American people in general, you would get similar answers across the board on health care. What I don't understand is why no one with representative power is listening. Why spend the money on the poll if you're just gonna toss out all the responses? Maybe to make the American people stop paying attention long enough to get this bill passed and go home so you can start campaigning for 2010? Perhaps I'm too cynical. Last time I checked though, it's all politics all the time. Which is why a satisfactory answer to health care is not going to come any time soon.
I've come to the conclusion there is no way to run a true issue-based campaign anymore. For one thing you still can't win (on a grand scale) as a third party candidate--it's too expensive. And in order to find "consensus" you have to sell your soul to Satan. Believe me I'm all for our Republic. After all, town hall democracy only works in town halls. For a country this large and this complicated, you have to have a representative republic. It's the best way to diffuse power grabbing and to slow single interests that may not be in our best interests. That's why it takes so damn long to get any laws passed. This is a good thing, truly. However, the downside to our Republic is that we've high-jacked ourselves by special interests and two party politics. Most representative Republics are multi-partied in general... but back to health care. I guess I'll jump in the fray while I'm on a roll.
If we are truly TRULY interested in reforming health care, we have to decide what we are going to reform. Are we going to reform the way we practice medicine? Are we going to reform the way we reimburse expenses? Are we going to reform our insurance system? What exactly are we going to change? And of course, how are we going to pay for it? I think the problem with health care reform (and I've said this before) is that we are talking about health care as if it is a single problem. Health care is so multi-faceted it's no wonder the current bill is 1000 pages. Excessive yes, but not surprising. Here are some questions that might make the next bill a few pages shorter, and maybe a bit meatier:
1. How do we create a system of preventative care available to all citizens? I think this is the fundamental question that is up for debate when we are talking about providing universal health care. Meat and potatoes medicine. Well visits, vaccinations, health screenings, blood work, basic cold and flu. Insurance companies don't make any money of off this kind of medicine, but people without insurance don't have access to this type of medicine in a way that is affordable to them. Health departments and ERs and walk-in clinics pick up the slack and are OVERRUN with people without the money to pay for basic routine care. This is one area I think is imperative that we figure out.
2. How do we create a system pool that spreads the risk of all these health problems that doesn't cost a gazillion dollars? I don't think we can. I think a pay as we go system is ultimately the only way we're going to be able to go in the end. I'm in a minority with this opinion, but it's what I think. Pretty much you pay as you go in other countries who have socialized medicine now. The universal bit is the preventative, basic stuff. If you want treatment above and beyond you go to the States. Insurance is basically a scam on healthy people that disproportionately favors people with health issues, that is until they lose a job, or move, or can't pay the premium anymore. If we're going to commit to a system that helps everybody we're going to have to put limitations on what helping everybody means. And we don't like to do that in America--at least not on camera. The way we work it now is to allow insurance companies to perform criminal acts like hiking insurance premiums to levels that people can't pay, dropping people unnecessarily without warning, and enacting the pre-existing condition clause whenever the mood strikes them. I think these above-mentioned practices are worse than a pay as you go system. It leaves people in a lurch, without hope, and in debt beyond what they will ever be able to pay. If you get kicked off your insurance policy or you can't pay the premium anymore, can you get a refund on all those months you paid that you didn't use the system? Now that would be exciting. But that would be like expecting a social security check when you're 67.5 years old if you were born after 1960.
3. How are we going to pay for research? We love the research. We love the potential cures. We love the fact that so many ugly things have been wiped out or are now manageable with drugs. It's part of what we do in America. I'm all for it. Someday I may need it. But it costs money. LOTS of money. There isn't an R&D budget in the country that could satisfy an immunologist or a pathologist. That's what they do. They search for a better way. It doesn't come cheap. It's not because they demand huge salaries, it's because what they do is very expensive. Did you really think a cure for cancer would be cheap? Do you really think AIDS will go away if we throw enough money at it?
4. How do we pay for an aging population? This is a serious question that is only going to get more serious. We walk a fine line in this country when it comes to saving people and helping people live longer. Think of all the degenerative diseases out there can last half a lifetime for people. Alzheimer's comes to mind right out of the box. Think about how early we save preemies in this country--24 weeks now. Not only do we "save" the very old indefinitely, but we "save" the very young too. I write the word "save" in quotes because sometimes I wonder what kind of life we are saving people for. I would rather take a bullet than spend my remaining years in a hospital bed in a skilled nursing facility. And there is a reason a human baby takes 40 weeks to make. Please don't misunderstand me. I don't mean to be callous, uncaring, or insensitive. I would never do that on purpose. If it was my child or my parent I would want heroic measures taken if I thought there was any chance the measures would work. We've made such huge strides in modern medicine in the last 100, 50, 25, even 10 years that there is every reason in the world to try to save a person. Doctors are successful alot of the time. That's what makes medicine so hard and why I'm not a doctor. How do you make rational decisions about life and death? I tend to emote more than rationalize. I wouldn't be good at medicine. Medical decisions from routine to cutting edge costs lots and lots and lots of money. And we want to pay for everybody. Everybody. Everybody.
5. How are we going to pay for it? Please please please don't say rich people. I'm over that answer. Wealthy Americans already pay a disproportionate amount of the bill already. I'm not sure when America (the place people STILL to this day come to be all they can be and make a better life) decided that rich people are the devil. Not only is it oxymoronic, it's demoralizing and frankly unjust.
While I'm harping on tired old rhetoric, the lines about how criminal it is that the richest country in the world has people who are poor, who don't have this, that, and the other is growing thin and tiresome. Did anyone ever take a moment to think that not everyone wants to be saved? Has anyone ever tried to determine what poor means? Did anyone ever take a moment to think about whether or not it is the fiscal responsibility of the rest of us to take care of everybody?
Conservatives run into problems when they try to answer the question of fiscal responsibility. It isn't that their logic is wrong, they just can't sell the response. 1) No it is not every person's fiscal responsibility to take care of everyone else. But there are many people out there who are in serious need by no fault of their own. 2) It may not be our fiscal responsibility, but there is a pretty powerful argument that we have a moral obligation or personal conviction to take care of those who cannot take care of themselves, or those in a spot of trouble, or who could use a hand up. Some people call that American patriotism. Some people call that Christianity in action. But then again, our President just spent a great part of his first 6 months convincing the world we aren't a Christian nation, so I'm not sure about that argument anymore. Last time I checked we didn't have an official religion or language, but I'm pretty sure we are a tolerant, Christian nation with a healthy dose of religions represented who worship in peace within the borders. I could be wrong.
The problem with the "who deserves help argument" is 1) the government does not discriminate between deserving and undeserving. If it did, no one would ever get a fair shake in the judicial system. Vigilante justice would prevail. Our founding fathers guarded against derailing a fair process by eliminating a deserving/undeserving argument as much as they could. 2) When money stays local, it's easier to discern the best use of funds to reach the most people. Now the government wants all that money and local sources of discernment are drying out. 3) Many of those we help cannot be put to the test because they are either children, victims of circumstance, or disabled. The part I can't figure out is how I am to help the people I am morally obligated to help when all the money I would use to help them goes to a morally reprehensible group of people located inside the beltway about 8 hours north of here under the guise of the IRS and some misguided notion that it is my patriotic duty to pay more because I make more.
So anyway, I hope Congress can figure all this out before the Summer recess. I'd hate for the momentum of insanity to be stopped by any serious questioning of voters. How on earth are we supposed to find serious, even-handed, long-lasting answers when we're rushing to pass a bill that no one has read!?!?!?! I tried to read it. I didn't make it all the way through. My husband thinks I've read more of it than most Congress members. He may be right, but Congress does have staffers to do that sort of thing for them. I urge you to contact your representatives and talk to the latest staffer about your questions on health care legislation. At least leave a message saying how you feel about it.
Meanwhile, I'm going to keep tossing up these random questions even though the firestorm of responses from some of my friends will reign down upon me. Somebody has to ask the unpopular questions right? It's not like I'm running for office. I couldn't ask these questions if I had serious designs on an elected office. What does that say about us as voters? If I were to campaign on the serious, untouchables of politics I couldn't get elected at all. Hmm, definitely a blog for another day.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)