She

She is her mother's daughter.
She makes me smile.
She makes me laugh.
She is artistic. Brilliant. Incredibly smart. Observant. Stubborn. (She comes by that one honest enough.)
She makes me realize all the stuff I put my mother through. (Sorry Mom!)
And...


She is ... Making... Me... CRAZY!!!!!

My child, my middle child, my sweet, loving, laughing little girl is driving me up a wall. I have no clue how to talk to her. I don't know what to say to make her understand that if she wants a change to come about, SHE has to make it happen! I can't help her with this one!

You see, She is about to fail the 6th grade. For three 9-week periods now, we have struggled and fought, and grounded, and argued, and taken things away, all in the apparently vain hopes that something would make enough of an impression on her, to get her to buckle down, focus, and make better grades.

This? This is one thing I NEVER put my mother through. I was always, and still am, an over-achiever. I make good grades. I study. I care about my success. Mostly because I always wanted my parents to be proud of me.

My daughter? Nope. She couldn't care less. Her excuses for not doing her work? "I don't want to." "I didn't feel like doing it." "I did it, I just didn't turn it in."

?????????????????????????? WHAT?????????????????????????

Why would you do the work, and then not WANT to receive credit for it? I don't understand her thought processes. I don't understand why she is so determined that she CAN'T do anything about it at this point, so she's just going to fail. I don't want her to fail. I want her to believe in herself. I want her to TRY HARDER! But every time we talk about her grades, her study habits, she just responds with, "I can't," or "I don't know."

She has struggled in the past, and we got her on medication for her very severe ADHD. She's smart as a whip, she just can't focus. Her dosage is already really high, and based on what I've seen of her attention span for things like beading, video games, reading, arts and crafts, and so on (basically, the things she likes to do), her medicine is working fine. This? This is all behavioral. She is choosing to not do her work. She is choosing to not turn it in. She is choosing to fail. And since she's 12, she thinks she's big enough to decide to not do her work, but then shirks the responsibility for doing something to correct the problem.

So my question is this: How would you handle this situation? How would talk to a child who refuses to talk about the problem? Would there be a punishment? How would you follow up to make sure she was doing the work, turning it in, and so on?

I feel like I've tried everything. Punishments, grounding, taking away video games, taking away her favorite toys, no arts and crafts, and so on. We even took her out of Rainbow Girls. Nothing, and I mean NOTHING has had an impact on her. Nothing entices her to make the right choices. It really seems as though she doesn't care. We tell her she is smart enough, we tell her she has to make good choices, we tell her that she's the only one who can make this change.

I even tried a more negative tactic, telling her that if she doesn't pass the sixth grade, she's going to be almost 20 when she graduates high school (because she's already been held back once, in first grade), that the other kids will call her names and make fun of her. Maybe this was a mistake, because instead of making her want to do better, she just seems to be giving up.

She is amazing, this daughter of mine. She teaches me knew things about myself everyday. She shines so brightly when she wants to. And right now, she is making me absolutely nuts.

So how do I teach her? How do I get through?

Reasons

“Everything happens for a reason.” I don’t know if there’s an author for that particular quote, but I live by it. When my dreams are crushed, I know that there’s a reason. When I’m on cloud 9, and everything is going my way, there’s a reason. I know that God has a plan, and every struggle and every victory is a part of His plan for my life.

Every obstacle in your path is there to teach you something. In order to be taught, you must first realize that you don’t know the answer. Then you must be willing to open your eyes and ears, and you must be willing to close your mouth, so that you can learn all the things you need to know, to arrive at the answer. And the lesson you are learning may have more than one obstacle. 

Nine years ago, I lived in Texas with my husband and children. My husband had lost his great-paying job due to some budget cuts and other political nonsense, and we were having a hard time making ends meet. I finally called my parents and asked for help. They came down to see us at Christmas time, we worked out all the details, and by the first week of January, we were back in my hometown in a little rent house. Two weeks before we moved back, my grandmother had been diagnosed with cancer. She was ill, and required a lot of care. In retrospect, looking back, I see that the lost job was a blessing; that because of the lost job, I was able to move back home and spend three months with my grandmother before she passed away.

I know that at every stage of my life, I am exactly where God wants me to be. I am exactly where He needs me to be. I am exactly where He knows I need to be. 

A couple of months ago, I began to dream, to wish, to fervently pray for a specific change in our current living situation. I allowed myself to look at homes, to imagine ourselves in something bigger, something better, something that we could call ours. Something that we wouldn’t outgrow. (And trust me, at the rate my kids are growing, we need some serious space!) I found a place. It felt right. I could see us living there. I could see us waking up there, going to bed there, living our days and nights there.  It suits our needs to a tee. It has room to grow, room for improvement. The neighborhood is clean.  The yards are taken care of. And the storage! Oh em gee!!! Even the closets have cabinets inside them! It’s an OCD-organizational freak’s paradise! I fell in love with it. 

I allowed myself to dream. To plan. I even brought home boxes for packing. Then we looked into financing, and my dreams were crushed once again. Remember when I wrote about the process? Well, the process began again. I spent a day in tears. Then I spent a day just being mad. Mad at the world. Didn’t I deserve something better? Aren’t I a good person? What on earth did I do to deserve this sort of crushing blow? What good does it do to dream? Apparently I’ll just never have anything better. Doomed. Destroyed. Crushed.  I rationalized. I stopped planning. I stopped caring. Because if you don’t care, then it doesn’t have to hurt. Just don’t think about it.

Then I looked at the situation realistically.

And then I remembered:

Everything happens for a reason.

I DO deserve better, and God will provide a way. I haven’t learned the lesson yet. I must open my eyes, my ears, my heart, and be willing to accept the lesson. I won’t know the Reason until I learn the lesson. God has a plan. And it’s OK to dream. It’s ok to want. It’s human. I’m human, I’m created in God’s image. And I’m His dream. I’m His desire. He wants better things for me. He loves me and wants the very best for my life. 

All I have to do is open my heart to the Lesson. Then, and only then, can I learn the Lesson. And then I will know why things happen the way they do. He has a plan for me. 

Everything.

Every.

Single.

Thing.

Happens for a reason.

Today?

Is today the day? Is today the day when I feel as positive on the inside as I appear on the outside? It's a good facade, I wear it well. I'm strong, competent, capable, educated. And worried. Always worried. Worried about my children, about their not-too-far-off futures. About their grades, about the choices they make, or fail to make. Worried about financing a home. About "what if's" and "what now?"

I worry about my school. Will I really be able to put up with two more years of this kind of stress? Is it really worth it? Is it really what I want? Is today the day that I crack under all the pressure and say "I'M DONE!"?

I worry about my hubby. He works so hard for us, and I worry that he will get bitten by a snake, sprayed by a skunk, or impale himself on a rusty nail in someone's attic while chasing down a raccoon. I worry that he will fall off a roof, and not be able to work and take care of us. I worry that he will become tired of doing it all alone while I attempt to finish school.

I worry about my parents. I don't ever want to disappoint them. I want them to be proud of me for finishing school, proud of my husband for working so hard, and proud of my children for making good grades and good choices.

Is today the day I will feel as positive on the inside as I appear on the outside?

Today is the day I will pray. As I always do, I will pray. I will give it to God, and he will hold it and handle it for me. And today I will be stronger for it. Today is the day.

The Filter

Most of us have what I like to call a "Filter" somewhere between our brains and our mouths. Some of us use the Filter quite wisely, not only to remove impurities and judgements from our words and thoughts, but occasionally to add a touch of compassion or tact to the words before we release them into the atmosphere. Sometimes our Filters fail and our words wreak havoc. We say hurtful things, thoughtless things. We spew negativity. Negativity leaves a bad taste in the mouth, and a burden on the spirit.

Personally, I know of a few conditions under which my Filter will fail. For instance, if it is within 30 minutes after I wake up, talking to me or asking my opinion may result in Failure of the Filter. If the Filter is not powered up by application of caffeine with an hour, Filter Failure may progress and worsen throughout the day. PMS disables the Filter for days at a time.

I said all that, to say this: Some days, I just want to hear something positive. Something that has been beautifully filtered, enhanced with a little love and a lot of positivity. Because some days, I don't want to hear about how another person's experience was worse than mine, or more involved than mine. I want to hear how amazing this experience will be, how it's all worth it in the end, I just want people to power up their Filters, and say something positive instead of spewing drama and negativity at me.

***Insert scream of frustration here***

***~Disclaimer~***
This post will not be my usual positive outlook on life. There will be no happiness, no gushing, no joy. Only ranting. So, if you're having a really great day, stop reading here, bookmark this page, and come back at a later time. For those of you who are willing to put up with my rant, I thank you. Here goes:

I AM NOT AN IDIOT!!!! You know how I know this? Because I have a stinking 3.85 GPA, after starting college FOURTEEN YEARS after I graduated high school. I'm smart, I'm competent, and I'm capable. With that being said, I also know that I don't know EVERYTHING. And this is why I ask my teachers for help. I ask questions. I ask A LOT of questions, because it helps me to sort information and then put that information together in a way that makes sense to me. Just ask my classmates. I ASK A LOT OF QUESTIONS.

Let me set the stage for you: This morning, I was chosen to be the anesthetist for a routine ovariohysterectomy (that's a spay, for you lay-people). I've never been the anesthetist before, and I wasn't quite sure in which order things should be done, or how to hook up the many many hoses to the very confusing anesthesia machine. So I asked for help. Apparently, that was a mistake, because the answer I got from the teacher's aid went like this:

"Are you kidding me? You've seen this before! It was on your test!" ~No, it wasn't, but whatever. "You should already know this! I'm NOT giving you the answer!"

Which I interpreted to mean, "I refuse to help or teach you, because you're already supposed to know this."

Now, let me counter all this bull-ogna with my own observations:


Dear Know-it-all, Always Right RVT,
1. "Supposed to" is a subjective term, based on your opinion that I'm already educated enough to do this job on my own, so why are you here? Oh yeah... To TEACH ME!

2. When I ask for help, I'm not playing dumb. I come to you for help because YOU ARE "SUPPOSED TO" be my teacher... there's that subjective term again! My opinion has since been revised, as far as your abilities to teach me!

3. No, it wasn't on my test, but you're going to believe whatever you want, because you went to a bigger better school, and learned more, better, blah-blah-blah. Lady, I do not care where you learned to be an RVT, because now you're teaching at (name of institution), and it ain't the same.

4. Seeing something once before, 8 weeks ago, during a whirlwind demonstration where the machine DIDN'T EVEN WORK PROPERLY AT THE TIME isn't the same as doing it the first time, 8 weeks later, all by myself. Just so ya know. And just because I saw it once, doesn't mean I remember it. I'm not stupid, I'm human.

5. You're not giving me the answer? So you're refusing to teach me? You're really refusing to do your job, based on what you think you know about my education? Really? SERIOUSLY???

***Insert LOUD scream of frustration here***

Today's instance was just one of many. I am not alone in having this type of adventure with this particular person. Two weeks ago, she blew the IV catheter that I had successfully placed by jerking the animal's leg out of my hand to show me the way she learned to place catheters. I was doing it the way I was taught, but it wasn't good enough. So the IV catheter had to be replaced, causing a large ugly hematoma (bruise) on the dog's leg, for which I got chewed out. Today, she jerked an entire bottle of pre-anesthesia medication out of my hand while the syringe was still in it, because she wasn't happy with the way I was doing it.

When I started this program, I was told it would cost about $12,000. That's not bad, really. What they didn't tell me it would cost me? My self-esteem, self-respect, self-confidence, blood, sweat, and many tears.

I still have 2 years left. I think this calls for another scream of frustration.

Just some things

Somethings you may already now about me:
1. I'm over 6 feet tall.
2. I have really big feet!
3. I have naturally curly hair.
4. I am a Zumba instructor, a wife, a mother of 3, and a student. Don't ask me how I do it all, I don't know.
5. I also run 3 businesses from home. See #4, part 2.
6. I have 3 dogs.
7. I love animals. See #6.
8. I'm a sucker for homeless animals. See #6.
9. I have lots of acquaintances, and very few true friends.
10. I love to cook, and I'm good at it.

Some things you may NOT know about me:
1. At over 6 feet tall, I'm the shortest person in my family. Mom, Dad, and my brother, are all taller than me.

2. While my feet are big, as in long, they are also very skinny, which makes shoe-shopping doubly difficult. I also recently found out that I have double arches, which explains my shin pain while teaching Zumba.

3. I recently discovered a process called the Brazilian Blowout, so now my once curly, unruly frizzy locks are smooth, shiny and frizz-free. And I think I might be addicted to this particular process. Can one be addicted to a hairstyle? Cuz I am.

4a. The title of Zumba Instructor does not begin to cover my love for this activity. Zumba is a wonderful outlet for me. I've never been a dancer, always been clumsy and awkward, and never been accused of being graceful a day in my life. But when I Zumba, I OWN it! I love it. I lost 30 pounds in the first 6 months! Zumba makes me a better person, and not just because of the increased self esteem. I have made fabulous new friends, met some amazing people, and I get to spread the love wherever I go.

4b. The wife, mother of 3, and student part? Love it too. I have an amazing husband who takes care of us. He makes sure we have everything we need, and if I didn't reign him in from time to time, he would make sure we had everything we wanted, too. He's supportive of my Zumba career, because he's seen the changes it's made in my life. He's supportive of my education, because he's pushed me for 10 years to go to college, and I'm finally doing it. But School? I could do without it most days. I feel much too busy to keep up with it all, but I keep swimming, keep pushing on.

5. The 3 businesses? Oklahoma Wildlife Control, LLC, is my husband's creation. But it's kinda my baby too. I own it, in fact. And I'm proud of what we do. My husband and I are true conservationists. We understand that when overpopulation occurs, animals cause problems for humans. Raccoons get in attics, skunks den up under porches, and beaver and coyotes can ruin the cattle farmer's profits. Thus, we provide wildlife control for those who need and desire it. I won't get on my platform about it here, though.
  The other 2 businesses are solely mine, though I couldn't do either one without the support of my family. One is Zumba, which we've already discussed. The other is crocheting baby items for use as photo props. It's a fun past-time, but one that I barely have time for anymore.

6. Lady is a 90 lb. Labrador, Mac is a medium-sized Blue Healer, and Buddy is a poor unfortunate soul who needs a new home. No, really, someone please take him.

7 & 8. Buddy... He's sweet, really. He's just not a good fit for our family. I got suckered into taking him from a girl at school. I would really really LOVE it if I could find him a new home! (I'm a sucker, did I mention that?)

9. Acquaintances and friends. Big Difference. And I find that sometimes my acquaintances are friends I didn't know I had, and sometimes vice cersa, my friends are no more than acquaintances. Ce La Vie!

10. Cooking is not a passion for me, but it is something I enjoy when I have the time. I hate the cleaning-up part though. Momma says I'm like my Granny, because I'm never afraid to try new recipes, or even to change recipes in the middle. I even make them up from time to time, and I'm usually successful. Like the Cowboy Baked Beans. Those got rave reviews. I'll post the recipe another time.

So there ya go. A little info on me.
Happy Friday ya'll!