I may not be Jewish but I am a mother

Well, it happened. I turned into the stereotype of a Jewish mother. I won’t apologize (even though I’m not Jewish). Four weeks without a call from a son off at college is long enough to complain about. I actually found myself saying, “So, you don’t call, you don’t write….”
What is notable is that it worked! I now get a call at least every couple of weeks letting me know he is alive. Not much else, but at least that he is alive.

Now this son does call occasionally for advice, (“Mom, how long do I need to cook the red beans.”) but other than that he is pretty independent. He does his own thing and I don’t think he likes his mother voicing her opinion on his college “activities”.

Of course as a liberal in a family full of conservatives he does come under fire quite a lot. Or rather he would if he voiced his opinions. Perhaps through survival instinct, he doesn’t share his philosophy with his siblings too often. When he does, table conversation gets pretty lively. Between the career soldier older brother and the somewhat legalistic younger sister things can get heated quickly.

I am happy to say that, when we are able to spend some time together, we truly share some deep political and spiritual ideas. He knows where I stand, but he also knows I will not reject him for his ideals. I suspect he stops short of telling me anything I would get alarmed over. Maybe that is a good thing. I found out with my oldest two, that I really don’t need to know everything; especially long after the fact when I can’t do anything about it except be upset. Someone told them long ago to wait two years after you have done something your parents would not approve of before you tell them about it, and they took it to heart. I’d like to talk to that guy!

I hope that my son, as well as my other children, knows that I love him unconditionally, regardless of dogma. If there is one childrearing philosophy that I would share with all families, it is that if you make sure your children know you love them no matter what, and raise them in knowledge and hope of the Lord, that everything else will work itself out.

The best thing about grandchildren

You have probably heard that the best thing about grandchildren is that you can send them home when they get cranky. That is certainly a plus, but it’s not the best thing. The best thing is seeing how excited they get every time they see you.

When my own children were young, I can recall feeling a little jealous of how they jumped up and ran to daddy when he arrived home from work. I knew that it was because he had been away all day, whereas I had been with them the entire time. But none the less, I sometimes wished they reacted that way when I returned from a trip to Wal-Mart or the grocery store.

Not being with Grandma all the time is probably why my two-year-old grandson gets the biggest smile you can imagine whenever I come in the door or walk up to his mom’s car as they pull in my driveway. But whatever the reason, I can’t help but feel a little smug that his excitement is just for me.

Some things are worth getting older for.

Procrastination/Perfectionism?

Blogging is a great idea. The only drawback to blogs is that they don’t write themselves. Nor do they nag you that it is time to write another post. For an easily sidetracked procrastinator like me, that is a recipe for disaster. So, here it is, a year since my last post and, with contriteness, I will start again.
I read somewhere that procrastination is actually a symptom of being a perfectionist. It seems that the perfectionist is afraid of not achieving flawlessness and therefore puts off activities until they absolutely must be completed. Well, I don’t know if that is correct, but it makes me feel better. And it is a much better excuse than being lazy or attention deficit.
Now I have never allowed my children to use that defense, and, believe me; I have kids that could be professional procrastinators. Of course, my older children will quickly tell you that I let the younger ones get away with not completing things (like homework and chores) more than I did them. Like most parents I nag and cajole, only getting to the discipline stage when teacher phone calls start coming in or the dishes are piled higher than the sink.
Oddly, it was my oldest who advised me not long ago to tell my youngest she could not go out until her homework was complete. What made it odd is that my firstborn daughter was never one to procrastinate on homework and was an enthusiastic student; therefore that technique was not needed for her – at least in the schoolwork arena. She must be recalling the struggle to get her to do her chores. (Just this week I heard her lament to a small farm owner about having to clean the chicken coop as a preteen.)
Also odd, is that I had not already set that boundary with my youngest - a junior in high school. I am definitely getting lax in my older years. (My younger kids would say I am mellowing out.) Of course it is hard to disciple a child for late homework when your last blog post was a year ago!

Back to College

For some reason a couple of years ago I decided that I needed to finish a bachelor’s degree. At the time, I was thinking that I was going to be able to earn a lot more money with a B.S. Now that I am half-way there, I am thinking, “At my age, I am never going to earn back the money I am spending on this degree.” My only hope is to keep taking classes until I die. Then I won’t have to pay back the student loans. Plus, at over 50, the best my B.S. in Organizational Management in Project Management (The students and faculty just say “OMPM” because the name is way too long.) will probably be good for is for showing off.
Going back to college is an example to my kids though, I guess. My married daughter, who left college early because she was expecting, says I am an “inspiration” for her to finish her degree. We have actually had a couple of classes together, which is fun, except that she is a much better student than I am and makes me look bad. One instructor told her to explain what he wanted in our journals because I wasn’t “getting it”.
I must admit I enjoy school. I even miss it when I take a block off. (Our classes are in five-week blocks - which is great, because you only have to complete one subject at a time; and awful, because you only have five weeks to complete one subject.) I like getting into healthy debates over world views or C.S. Lewis’s theology. And it must be the mom in me, but I enjoy encouraging younger students (That would be almost all of them!) when they are struggling.
I do occasionally skip a block. I learned the hard way that you should not to take a class during the last few weeks of your kids’ school year. Your either miss half of their year-end functions or end up with a bad grade, or both. Then you get to feel guilty and dim-witted at the same time.
You would think that taking on college course-work would demonstrate how organized I am. But really, I procrastinate more on homework than on anything else. I have even learned how to judge just how late an assignment can be without dropping my grade a letter. In fact, come to think of it, I had better get to work on those two papers due before midnight…

The back of the book

To have credibility, any non-fiction writing, whether book or blog, relies on the credentials of the author. Here are mine. (Just pretend this is the back of a book jacket.)

Mom is the mother of five - two still at home, one in college and two married. She also has a 10 month-old beautiful, intelligent, delightful, etc. grandson. This is in addition to a house and yard full of three cats and three dogs. (One of the ways you care for your grown children is ending up with their pets.)

At the age of forty, after 25 years of marriage she became a suddenly-single mother of children ranging from 13 years old down to a few weeks. (For that story you will have to wait until I start my soap opera blog.)

She has been home-school mom, soccer mom, football mom, college mom and army mom, among other things.

From an "older" Mom

I can remember as a young mother being told time and time again, "Enjoy your children while they are young; they will soon grow up and not need you anymore."

Boy, were those people wrong. Sure, I am no longer changing diapers and chasing toddlers, but my adult and teenage children take more of my energy than ever. Not a day goes by without several calls ranging from "Mom, I just don't know what to do" to "Mom, how much water goes into the rice." And I can't tell you how happy that makes me.

I feel reassured that, even though I will be an empty-nester in a couple of years, my relationship with my children (and their spouses and children) will not end. I believe I can look forward to more years of, “Mom, how do you…?”

My hope is that this blog will provide my readers with a little humor and some modest insight into the joys of taking care of family.