Freak Accident

This weekend the kids went to the Jefferson Memorial.  Sean, Jillian and I went to my grandmother's birthday gathering.  She's 92.

I wonder what age it is when it's okay again to announce to people how old someone is.  I mean, I'm 38, but I'm not sure I really want anyone nonchalantly just announcing it.  But at some point it will become a badge of honor.  Like - I survived this long so I must be extra special.

My grandma lives only about 3 hours away from us, but I don't go to see her as often as I should. 

With all the other travelling we do, that trip is always the one to get put off it seems. It's been too long since the big kids have seen her.  So we'll be figuring out how to get them to see her before too long.

We try to get the kids to Oliver about every other weekend.  Sometimes it turns into 3 weeks instead of 2 before they get there.  And even though it's rough spending all Friday evening driving and most of the day on Sunday, it's really important to me that Oliver get to be the hands on dad for that time.  So we do it.

And with all that travelling you'd think we'd have had more troubles on the road than we have.

Yesterday coming back with all the kids, a ladder flew out of a truck in front of us and lodged under our car.  I guess we're lucky it didn't go through the windshield.  I don't think anyone really saw it happen except Sean, who was driving.  Holly was riding in the front seat so I could entertain Jillian.  She couldn't see out the front well.  I was watching Jillian.  Julia and Alan were playing Nintendos in the back.  And though we thought at first that the tire was torn, it wasn't.  We were able to continue on down the road after filing a report with the highway patrol.

*****

I think of things I'd like to blog about probably 5 times a day.  As I walk home from the school after I drop off the kids I compose blogs in my head.  But by the time I sit down at night with the computer, I've forgotten whatever topic I thought was interesting that morning.  Or I'm too tired to make much sense.  Tonight I'm going to keep going - running the risk of writing an awkwardly long post or not making good sense.  But I think it needs to be said...

Most of the "mom blogs" I find on the internet are written by mom's of young children.  Once the kids hit the tween years, it seems the blogs dry up.  And I think I know why.

I don't always want to tell everyone what my tweens say.

It's not always cute.  It's not always politically correct.  It's sometimes hurtful, and sometimes I'm afraid of how it would make me look to others if they heard it.

I'm not always sure how to deal with the hormones in the house.  Julia often talks back at me - and while I probably did the same to my mom, I don't remember it.  I more remember my mom putting me in my place and my feeling shamed and quickly wanting to make things right if I'd done wrong.  Julia's personality is different.  And it aggravates me sometimes.

Occasionally I get a glimpse of other girls her age when their hormones are flaring, too, and I know she's normal.  But that doesn't make it easier to deal with her.

Last night when we finally got home, it was time for pajamas and bed.  I didn't rush the kids into it.  I told them it was time and didn't badger.  I know they need time to wind down and relax at home just like I do before I can fall into bed after a trip.  But it was getting later, and I gave the girls the lights out warning and then told them to turn the lights off.  Julia didn't.  In fact, she moved her light and got on the floor to keep reading.

And after 3 times or so of saying lights out, and the lights not going out, I went to the garage and tried to find the breaker to the girls' room.  Holly was wanting the light to go out and was helping me find the right breaker.  But when the lights went out, Julia's clock went out with them, and she got mad.  We all know she was just overly tired and didn't want to be told what to do right then.

She ended up getting upset and then coming to my room shortly after and saying she wanted to kill herself.

No parent wants to hear those words.  And it's not the first she's said them.

I don't believe she's suicidal.  I suppose I should say that outright since this small window into our life is not the biggest, brightest, clearest window there is.  I believe she's hormonal.  And feeling at times unworthy and unloved and unappreciated and without power and control in her life.  I think she's feeling overwhelmingly unhappy at times and isn't sure how to fix it.  She can be so emotional sometimes and then minutes later be giggling and full of joy again. 

I want her to know the power of her words.  I want her to be able to accurately communicate what she's feeling. 

I don't want to diminish her feelings.  I don't want to pretend she's fine in those moments when whatever emotion she's having makes her say that.

I told her last night that if that's really how she feels then we need to seek professional help because I don't know what to do for that.  I told her it's also possible that maybe she's feeling something else.  She said she feels like everyone treats her like she's the devil.  I told her I'm not sure what that means.  If I thought she was the devil, I'd be running out of the room, so I'm not sure what she means by being treated like the devil.  Then she changed it to being treated like dirt.  That I understand.

My solution last night was for her to call her dad.

He has a way of talking to her and in minutes she's laughing.  Smiling.  She's okay again.

And she was.  And this morning she was back to her normal tween self, and not the extreme tween she was last night.

There's a line in there somewhere.  I don't want to encourage her to cry wolf - but I don't want to ignore her cries, either.  I want her to know without a doubt how much I love her.  I admit I expect a lot from her, but I believe in her and believe she's as capable in reality as she is in my mind.

And I don't have a good summation.  Or a question.  Just an observation that parenting is hard. 
And so is growing up.