2015 Year End Review

I wrote a Christmas letter this year, but the computer decided to eat the document when it got shut down.  I couldn’t muster up the holiday strength needed to re-write the thing and I didn’t send one out.  It was a small absence, it seemed, and one that most of my received Christmas cards seem to share.  Christmas letters have gone by the wayside – perhaps to join the other old-fashioned means of communication a la the telegram, the answering machine, and anything in general of needing a stamp to be replaced by the immediate updates on social media.

As I was putting the annual Santa photo into the Christmas binder – this year each child adorned not in red and green, but proudly displaying their individual alma maters - I was struck by the emptiness of the 2015 entry with its lack of letter.  So here I sit, on the eve of 2016, composing some highlights of this current – for a few more hours – year.  Like many wise editors, I have outsourced some of the work.  And I find it quite a reflection of the current times in how my children have chosen to respond to my request for their list of 2015.

This review started, unknowingly, with Colin and his post to Facebook this morning.  Colin still uses Facebook.  He turned 21 this year – and is just old enough in his generation to still use this media platform.  Or perhaps it is due to his busy schedule and general lack of desire to learn and use another social digital outlet.  He shared that he is the president of Tau Beta Pi, engineering honor society at CPP and is working on his Senior Project in Mechanical Engineering.  He attended many Engineering conferences this year, travelling to Illinois and Rhode Island.  He has scored 2 internships and is currently employed by Edison, where he puts in at least 20 hours a week on top of full time classes in his 4^th and final full year at Cal Poly Pomona.    He is contemplating the future: graduation, job, and grad school down the line.   He hopes to get an apartment, strengthen relationships and continue to travel in the new year.

Aidan met my request for a recap with a text.  I am, quite frankly, slightly worried to know which social outlets Aidan uses.  I suspect something quite dark and hidden in the internet world.  His update text, which I quote:

            Got accepted to nevada, went cliff jumping with Joe, Went skydiving with dad, finished igetc and csuge at coc, went to fallout boy and wiz khalifa concert, paid my way to chatauqua on a red eye, grew a man bun, numerous art projects (dragon, Cajon, dads coasters, wolf mural), started at Nevada and passed all classes, drove there and back.

Having Aidan at the University of Nevada has been a big change for our family.  We saw Colin quite a bit when he was/is away at school.  We see Aidan only on major holidays.  The house is very quiet and it’s been a big adjustment for all of us.  Some of us (me) took his absence a little harder than others (Ed, who took over Aidan’s room.)

Julia uses twitter as her social media of choice.  She did write out a very nice list for me, but for the purposes of brevity, I will recap via tweet:  “Rt your 2k15”

Met your current significant other 

Got your license [she gets to drive the minivan]

Went to Niagara Falls [this summer on our family reunion trip to New York]

Won an award [high school soccer co-defender of the year]

Had a sweet sixteen [soccer team kidnap breakfast and dinner with friends in Santa Monica]

Got your braces off

Hosted an exchange student [Tanja, technically lives next door, but has become a close friend]

I will add that she is taking a huge course load this junior year in high school and has managed to earn a 4.5 GPA.  I will take a soupçon of credit, as a broken right arm from an October soccer game injury left her right hand in a cast, thereby necessitating a homework scribe – moì.  A broken foot in January and a badly sprained ankle in May left her in casts and boots.  We are crossing fingers for an injury free 2016.  A final highlight was 2 week Medical School camp with her grandfather in Florida this summer.

Edwin handed me a chronological list on notebook paper.  He is not on any social media.  He is, however, very well acquainted with Netflix.  Attached to this handwritten list was the speech he wrote (with a little help from Aidan) for his 6^th grade promotion ceremony. 

January            Squidwards [soccer team] lost at regional playoffs

February          Help buy and install Dad’s awesomesauce chair [Barca-lounger]

March             Last Math Field Day competition

April                3 qualification classes…

May                 …2^nd Degree Black Belt testing

June                 fairwell [sic] to Highlands Elementary

July                  1^st time the Danahys, Stewarts and Pernsteiners were together since Ellie’s and Drew’s wedding

August             1^st day of 7^th grade at Arroyo Seco and 1^st practice and game with Team En Fuego, 3 day Harry Potter Marathon

September      1^st and only loss by scorched Orange [rival soccer team]

October           turned 13

November       Scarlet Fever

December       San Diego with Gramma Lee, Papa Paul and Liam

My year included probably saving my mom’s life – as she was having a heart attack at the time and someone – ahem- got her convinced to call an ambulance; running the non-profit organization that I co-founded to provide support and funds to the local high school; visiting Pittsburgh; getting new carpet in the whole house – and the amazing amount of work it entailed; leaving the elementary school after 16 years as an involved parent; working another wedding; attending 26 live comedy, music and theater productions this year – THE BEST of which was Celine Dion in Vegas….life changing; reconnecting with old friends; joining not one, but TWO wine clubs; visiting Cleveland…twice and Tucson only once; and saying goodbye to fertility forever.   

Brian helped coach Julia’s club soccer team to second place in league this year.  And also took over as coach of Ed’s soccer team, a team that refuses to die.  January will see us on the field for the whole month of weekends.  Soccer took much of Brian’s time this fall – often 3+ hours at a time after work some days.  He did enjoy his Notre Dame football and is currently in Arizona with Colin and Aidan on a boys’ football bowl week vacation.  We all enjoyed our trip to New York and Lake Chatauqua- Brian did a lot of the driving of the boat – and getting the boat (and kids aboard the vessel) safely to shore during a huge storm on the lake.   Brian got an iphone this year – and enjoys face timing on it.  That’s as close to any social media as he will get.  We said goodbye to Baxter in July and hello (but not the Adele $800 Staples’ Center tickets kind of “Hello”) to new spin-off company Baxalta. 

So I’ll post this review on my blog – my social media of choice – and print it out to fill the void in the Christmas book.  And that’s a wrap to 2015, a most wonderfully full year.   

Hope you enjoy this, Meg.  I did it mostly for you. 

Teenagers

Today someone asked me how many teenagers I had. 

“Too many,” was my response.

My youngest child hit 13 last Friday.  When my oldest turned 13, I had a bit of a meltdown.  I myself had recently turned 37 – a number I considered, at the time, too close to 40.  Having a teenager put me over the edge, so to speak.  I was officially “old” and I didn’t take kindly to this milestone.  I comforted myself with the fact that I still had a child, in fact many children, who were not teens.  The distinction was necessary to me. 

My children’s teen years so far have proved to be just about as difficult as I expected them to be.  Not horrific.  Not a cake walk.  In our house we have combated attitudes, body odors, messy rooms, car accidents, defiance, overuse of the word “like,” ambivalence and even some angst.  The social and friend stuff is always hard with the teens: such a difficult time that I remember with painful clarity from my own life.  Truly one of the hardest parts of parenting is watching your kids hurt by other people.  I have to believe that the pain makes them stronger.  I have to hope that the pain doesn’t make them harder.  I’m here to help model channeling the hurt into something positive and not something destructive.  Sometimes I succeed.

The frank teen sex talks have had a different twist with every kid.  I know now that the best talks happen in the car – all eyes forward.  No question is off limits, and I generally throw in too much information.  Enough to scare them.  But also enough to teach them.  Always trying to maintain the distance I think needs to be maintained: I am their mother, not their friend.  My latest bit of wisdom to one of my not-to-be-named teenagers was, “I am on a need to know basis.  Like you doctor.  If it isn’t something you would tell your doctor, then don’t tell me” with the hopes that the shock-value details will be reined in.  This bit of instruction is tailored to a specific child – like most of my conversations with my children.  I hope that by the time they reach the teen years, I have come to know them well enough to have the kind of productive conversations unique to each of them.  It’s definitely not one size fits all.

My youngest turning into a teenager has been harder to accept than the first born turning 13.  Because with it came this realization:

                                              

I no longer have small children.  

I haven’t fully grasped this concept yet.  It’s been 22 years since I first discovered I was pregnant.  So for 21+ years …I’ve had a small or small-ish child.   Not having a “child” feels less like a chapter ending and more like a whole library closing.   For almost half of my life, I had a baby or child in tow.  Half. Of. My. Life.  And now the last one is a teenager.  And I know what that means.  I’m going to blink, and he’ll be gone.  Off discovering college and a whole new exciting world.

And I’ll be 50 when that happens.  Which to my 37 year old self is exceptionally old.  Even to my 45 year old self, 50 seems old. 

Almost as old as having teenagers.

Family Goodbyes

My boys said goodbye to each other on Monday night.  It was after a lovely celebratory meal for

Colin’s 21^st birthday.  He, of course, had pizza.  The rest of us had lovely authentic Italian dishes.  After the blowing out of the candle on the obligatorily proffered piece of house tiramisu, we all got up to say our goodbyes.  Pictures were taken.  Julia’s annual hug given to Colin, offered once each year on birthdays – his relative stiffness matched only by her uncomfortableness at being touched (Edwin clearly received ALL of the hugging genes that completely skipped Julia’s gene pool.)  And then it was time for the big boys to say goodbye – embracing like young men do – quick bear hug followed by the back thump.  Colin wanted me to take a picture of them.  Hugging.  Briefly perplexed, I tried to snap a photo on the phone that wouldn’t cooperate with a flash.  The hug happened again.  And then again.  

“See you at Thanksgiving,” they say to each other.  And I feel a little twinge. 

“This is the longest we will have ever been apart,” they say to me.  And I feel like I have been punched in the stomach.

Colin will start his 4^th year of college in September.  Colin chose a school 65 miles away.  In Los Angeles.  Which, to be fair, could either be 1 hour away or 3 ½  hours away, depending on traffic and the time of day.  We saw him often during that first year away from home. 

Aidan will start his second year of college on Monday – his junior year, according to the transcripts and thanks to taking so many college classes in high school – in a different state.  He will be 8 hours away.  More if the Grapevine closes due to fire or snow.   He won’t come home on weekends to do his laundry.  The next time we see him will be Thanksgiving.

Our family has done the goodbye thing.  The move to college thing.  The changing of the family dynamic thing.  We have morphed from a house of 6 to 5 and then 6 again on weekends and school breaks.  We are not new to the changing numbers and rearranging rooms in the house.

This change feels different.  Half of my children will no longer be living with me.  My boys will go months without seeing each other.  Months.  This seems inconceivable to me: like Vizzini inconceivable.   Julia no longer has a big brother around.  Edwin no longer has a tormentor/mentor around.  I no longer have another driver around.  My family will be scattered.  My family will not be together under the same roof.  The rightness of this milestone feels so very, very wrong.

We will rearrange rooms again – Edwin to truly get his own room for the first time in his life.  No older brother to share with on weekends/vacations.  When they are home again, even if only briefly together, the big boys will share the room they once shared when we first moved into this house 17 years ago.  (And of course, Aidan wants to turn it into a “man cave”.)

Funny thing these full circles.  I will look at that back room and see my 2 red headed boys.  The ones who people literally crossed the street to look and smile at when they were little.  I will see their sleeping faces and their rambunctious awake ones.  Those are the faces I will see when I take them to college.  Those are the faces I see when I say goodbye.

What I Learned as an Elementary School Parent

Tomorrow will end the 16 school years I have spent as an elementary school parent.  I will most certainly be shedding a few tears: some proud, some sad, and some even filled with joyful relief at an ending that’s been a long time coming. 

I will miss being an elementary school parent.  It has been at least a part-time job over the last decade and a half: room parent, volunteer, parent teacher group board member, site council president etc.  It all took time and energy.  And like a seasoned player, just maybe a bit past her prime, I leave it with some hard-earned confidence, maturity and a little relief.

Along the way it was impossible not to pick up a few things. I leave with the following knowledge.

Always go straight to the source.  I learned this embarrassingly early in my parent life.  Kindergarten with my oldest son, 1999– first week of school.  I questioned the teacher’s discipline technique….to the principal.   Of course she found out about my “complaint” and as she was a seasoned teacher, she approached me about it the very next day.  She explained, thoroughly, what I may have misinterpreted. She also made it pretty clear – without outright saying it – that I should have come to her first.  She was gracious about it.  She taught me how to be the kind of parent who works with teachers, as part of a team – not on opposite sides.  From all I have heard from my teacher friends, and from my children’s teachers too, one of the most taxing parts of the teaching profession today is dealing with parents who don’t support you. 

Kindergarten teachers know everything about you and your family. There are very few secrets.  Young children can be brutally honest.  And they see and hear more than you can even imagine.  So treat your teacher with great kindness.  Chances are, she knows some good dirt on you.

Little children have no qualms about farting in public.  Ever. 

Kids can be mean.  First grade boys, I’m talking about you.  Fifth grade girls? Yep, you too. There is a reason why “Lord of the Flies” is still taught today in high school.  Kids can be downright nasty.  Part of being a parent is to dry those tears caused by hurt feelings and exclusion.  It is a part of life that no parent *wants* to teach – but it happens to everyone.  If it hasn’t happened yet….it will. 

Kids can be extraordinarily compassionate.  The child who doesn’t speak in kindergarten? She will have friends who help her.  The child who has braces on her legs and can’t run? She will have friends who make up games that she can play.   The 6^th grader who doesn’t have a partner for the field trip? Someone will step up and step in with grace.

Nothing is ever accomplished by criticizing a child to his or her mother.  Even if it is “constructive” criticism. 

Groups of women can get anything done.  On a shoe-string budget.  In a small amount of time.  They can move mountains – or make them out of paper as decorations for the school play.  Nothing is impossible. 

Groups of women do not work well together.  Yes, I said it.  Yes, it’s true. 

A love of reading cannot be taught.  Reading can be taught. Love of books can be fostered and encouraged, but love ultimately comes from within each child.  Not from the parent.

No Child Left Behind did not work.  And it is my belief that Common Core will not work either.

Children learn best in small groups and small teacher to student ratios. 

Never volunteer in the classroom after lunch.  There is a reason why the veteran 6^th grade teacher doused himself in heavy cologne for years: kids smell.  Kids smell bad.  Even little ones.  The combination of black asphalt smudges, little kid sweat and leftover lunch bag smell is too powerful a combination for one’s senses.

Let your first grader take ownership of the diorama.  Let your 5^th grader take ownership of the Science Project. They can do it.  Back off.  Let them work it out on their own.  I will admit that this is extra hard.  Especially if you are crafty.  It took me a LONG time to get this concept.  But the pride they feel will go farther than any need you have to control the project.

The crossing guard, janitors and lunch ladies are the unsung heroes of the elementary school world.

Make friends with the office manager.

Never attempt to understand the complex rules of four-square.  Just nod your head and fake your comprehension.

Morning drop-off and afternoon pick-up bring out the very worst in humanity.  For the love that is all good and true….leave home 5 minutes early.  Don’t ever be *that* parent.  You know the one.  The one who makes the U-turn in the school zone.  The one who doesn’t follow the valet rules (PULL.  ALL. THE. WAY. FORWARD. Junior will survive walking 10 extra steps!) The one who jaywalks and stops traffic.  (Dads….I’m looking at you.  Please use the crosswalks.  Please model this safe behavior.)  The one who parks in a red zone next to the safety cones – blocking traffic.  The one who doesn’t think the sign “No Student Drop Off – Faculty Only” applies to them. 

I will miss this elementary school.  I will miss the people in it.  I will miss helping kids learn how to use scissors, write their names and make a clay monster.  I will miss reading to them and giving make-up spelling tests.  I will miss the art projects and the plays.  The reading logs and the journals.  I will miss the connection that I had as a volunteer to my children at school. 

Tomorrow is a big day for our family.  We say goodbye to a piece of our collective lives – one of the few constants this growing and changing family has had.  Bittersweet.  All 16 years of it.