Friday, April 29, 2011

Week 10 - Enlisting the Reader

I talk about my children a lot.  Well probably even more than a lot according to some people.  It just can't be helped, I stay at home full time with my four kids, and they pretty much determine what I do with my time each day.  After the kids all go to school, it's generally a small window of time that I get to myself to go through the mail and enjoy an extra cup of coffee.  Last week, as I leafed through the mail, glancing through the lastest sales flyers and sweepstakes winner notifications, I saw a rather thick envelope from my son's school.  Grimacing, wondering what new batch of useless information it might contain, I ripped open the envelope.

It contained a sheaf of paperwork regarding my son's recent evaluations and school progress for the year so far.  Somewhere within also would be the recommendations regarding his program for next year.  Steeling myself I begin at the top, trying to read and decipher as I went down the page.  As my eyes glazed over and the grocery list began drifting to the front of my mind, I realized I was not absorbing any of the information in front of me.  If you have ever had the pleasure of reading such a report you know that about four sentences into it, the "educational-ese" begins.  The first few are "I examined/observed such and such child who resides with none/both/one of their biological parents with 1/3/72 siblings, ages 3, 7, 9, and 105..."  blah blah blah.  Things I know and anyone who knows my kids or family knows, do they really need to put it in the report to tell it to me though?  Since no one without a signed and sealed declaration, and perhaps blood sample, can get a copy of the report, really does it require an introduction?  Perhaps its just to assure me that the person is actually talking about my son, rather than the 300 other children they are responsible for documenting on.  I wonder if it's like a form letter, filling in the blanks with pertinent information.  Of course that just leads me to think maybe its more like the old Ad-Libs books, adjective here, adverb here, word that ends in "ing" here... and when they are stumped for a good word they pull out the thesaurus and grab the longest word they can find, sounding sufficiently impressive and knowledgable. 

Luckily, or not as the case may be, I am familiar with the layout of this particular fill in the blank report, and there are handy section titles that direct me to the last paragraph or two of the report, "Conclusions."  My observations prove to be correct yet again, since this section is made of single syllable words and a couple of mis-spellings, obviously quickly typed or dictated and not properly checked for accuracy or complete sentences (note my son's name is spelled incorrectly, sigh).  The total sumation of the "conclusions" is that my son is receiving all of his current services and supports and making progress with said services.  In addition the writer, a consulting psychologist for many of the local school districts, determines that the services should continue until the next evaluation.  Phew, what a relief, my son is getting his services (which I observe and discuss with his teacher almost daily), making progress (which I see on a daily basis and again hear from his teacher), and should continue with the same regimin for another year (which is a relief since schools rarely manage to leave working programs alone without meddling with them). 

I notice the page number at the bottom, #14.  Fourteen pages to sum up essentially, it ain't broke so we won't fix it.  I wonder if the school has to pay the consultant piecemeal, per page of results per child.  I also wonder if perhaps it might be better to eliminate needless meetings and reports and fund some of the sorely lacking areas of the school budget.  Maybe an opt out option?  Certainly it might fund the notebooks that my daughters third grade class held a bake sale to pay for?

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Week 9 - Speculative

Times when I am doing something particularly boring or mundane I usually allow my mind to wander and think back on my life.  Looking back it's like looking up a large tree, the wide solid trunk is the now of my life solid and whole, buried beneath the surface the collective knowledge and nourishment are supplied by tendrils of the past,  and the branching limbs above and ahead of me are the various avenues open awaiting to be chosen.  I picture my tree of life and wonder if it would be quite so solid and round if I had done this, or not done that? Would it have smoother bark, less gnarls and knots in the wood, or would it have failed to thrive and be pitifully thin, awaiting a windy Maine storm to snap it in half or pull the roots up all together?  My husband calls it my What-if game.  He sees the glaze in my eyes as I wash the dishes or fold the laundry and ask what I am deleting from my life.  He doesn't understand the draw is not to delete from my life, but to wander through the alternate lives I might have lived if I had made different or better -or worse- decisions.  Since I am a firm believer in the adage of "Older and Wiser"  I feel that the wisdom I have gained allows me to reflect and determine if I was wrong or right, foolish or wise, hasty or thoughtful.

A recurring theme in my idle musing is the changes that my life would reflect had I not re-met my husband several years after we had broken up from our high school romance.   Invariably this line of thought leads to the eventual conclusion that I was indeed extremely fortunate that fate peeked down and aligned our lives to reconnect. Being rather cynical or, as I like to say, realistic, I then peek ahead to ponder my future should fate decide to withdraw that blessing from my life.  What would I do if my hubby were to leave, or heaven forbid, to die? 

I am the mother of four wonderful children, certainly a handful but an amazing group even if I do say so.  I am also a full time student at the moment, in the hopes that one day I can get a real grown-up job that will supplement our single family income.  Of course I am also a full time student because my children are full time students.  My youngest son, the next-to-youngest total, is currently in the fifth grade but was diagnosed with special needs when he was 3 three years old.  There are no ready-made after school programs or daycare centers for kids who require the constant one-on-one supervision - thus the stay at home mom/student status I currently enjoy.  Enjoy.  I do actually enjoy being home for my children, regardless of the snarky comments about third grade math homework and the constant mom taxi duties.  And while it is fulfilling and I think important for parents, rather than daycares and babysitters, to raise their children, I also know that someday there will come a time when my children will not need me to be there when they get off the bus.  Being a stay-at-home mom is important to me but being a stay-at-home wife is not on my list of things I want to do.

If suddenly I were to become a single mother of four, I would seriously need to re-evaluate my lifestyle.  I would obviously have to begin working to support my family.  Who would I find that could care for my children and keep them safe and happy?  Would I be able to find a job that would allow me to spend as much time at home while my kids were home and awake.  With the current scarcity of decent paying jobs, it would more likely be not one but two jobs that would be needed.  If I were able to find two jobs to juggle together, I wouldn't even know where to begin looking for childcare for my kids.  I know that I would be playing the lotto every week to keep from paying 3/4 of that second check for said care. 

Would my older sons begin to drift away from the lack of a male role model?  My oldest will be off to college in a year or so, so he perhaps would avoid significant damage from the lack of father at home, but what about my second son?  I would be studying sporting updates hard and long (and mostly unsuccessfully, I'm sure) to fill the shoes of my hubby.  Long nights of off color jokes and wrestling matches would unfortunately be out.  Would he be able to talk to me like one of the guys as he struggles with girls, grades, and life in general through high school?  Seriously I doubt it.  I guess ultimately my kids would most likely have to accept that while our life had changed, I would still be the same ol' mom that I was before.  Certainly I would be trying harder, stressing more, and doing everything possible to make up the difference, but we would still be missing a vital piece of our lives. 

As I have told my children so many times, certainly there are times when people change their lives, but more often than not, the things in your life change you.  It's those darn roots that feed the trunk of the "life tree".   While you think you can pick and choose which branch you will travel into the future, it's the roots that can determine the width and breadth of those branches, and whether they will carry you further onward, or snap suddenly under your feet leaving you to begin again with the present.