It's Kind of a Big Deal

A few weeks ago I was reading an article in USA Today about a survey conducted by the Sesame Street Workshop organization.  As I have a vested interest in Sesame Street by the virtue of parking my two children in front of their program pretty much non-stop for the bulk of their pre-school years. (Don't judge me). In my defense, moms in the 1970's were brainwashed into thinking that Mr. Rogers, the Electric Company crew and the cast of Sesame Street would turn our uneducated 3 year olds into reading and spelling prodigies. Who knows??...  Maybe my children's later successes are in large part due to the efforts of Big Bird.  Sadly, I never sent him a thank you note.  Bad manners on my part I suspect. Regret is an evil emotion.

Well...Back to the subject of the survey.  Sesame Street is now in it's 47th year and tackling the subject of kindness with an emphasis on empathy. According to the article both teachers and parents are worried that today's kids are growing up in an unkind, unempathetic world. Sesame Street creators are going to try to enlighten the little heathens among us by teaching them  how to recognize kindness, emulate it and  how they might look at something from another person's point of view.

I have to think that this is a complicated mission.  The survey included the opinions of  2000 parents and 500 teachers and there seemed to be a lot of confusion between those surveyed as to what is constitutes kindness. Kindness means different things to different people. There is a lot of gray area between using good manners and truly possessing a generous spirit toward others.   If this  murky, undefined  concept of "what exactly constitutes kindness?" wasn't enough of a hurdle for their survey, there were many that questioned "what is the difference between empathy and sympathy?"

After the survey result were in, Jeffery D. Dunn, the CEO of Sesame Workshop said "This survey confirms our concerns. It is time for a national conversation about kindness."

Jennifer Kotler Clark, a researcher at Sesame Workshop said both parents and teachers overwhelmingly felt that being kind was more important than being academically successful. (Note: Hey kids...try using that line on your parents when you get a bad grade.  "Sure I got a D in Algebra but I sure treat my fellow classmates with the utmost respect.")


Kotler Clark went on to say that during the survey they substituted words to represent kindness including empathy, helpfulness, thoughtfulness, politeness, and manners.  When asked which is more important manners or empathy, 58 percent of the parents said manners. Katler Clark suggested that maybe parents assume if a child is mannerly that they are also empathetic. Not so fast, she cautioned.  Bullies are great at using good manners around adults.

While  the parents thought that manners were more important than empathy,  63 percent of the  teachers  ranked empathy as more important than manners.  Only 30 percent of the teachers said that parents are raising their children with values consistent with their teachers.  OUCH!!  Fifty percent of the teachers surveyed said they felt that being kind is not a top priority.  (Did they mean from the perspective of the children, the parents or themselves?  Hey teachers!...use complete sentences.)

According to the article, research has proven that self-regulation, and pro-social behaviors in children are a predictor for future health, financial stability, and academic success.  Supposedly, kids not only need to see and recognize examples of these types of behaviors but they need to practice them.

Rosemary Truglio said that this year Sesame Street is making kindness a top priority. She said they want to make it more explicit. (I am assuming she means that in a good way.) The show wants to get beyond the niceness of manners. (Although....let's not gloss over that too much...manners matter.)


So what's your thoughts, readers?  Is empathy being taken over by narcissism?  Are children not seeing and recognizing behaviors that teach them to be kind?  Collectively, are we becoming a civilization of  people that choose not to care how others feel?

Back to School Sales and Other Religious Holidays

Remember the line "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times"?  Yeah..Tale of Two Cities.  Ring a bell?  While I am fairly certain that Charles Dickens wasn't speaking specifically about getting children back to school...he could of been.  

 Yes, it's that time of year. Where I live, we are 16 days away from the big "send off" for children to return to the classroom.   OH...am I not being sensitive to all of you that are crying in your kid's Cheerios at the very  thought of your precious spawn heading out the door?  If that is you, I apologize for my insensitivity but I am fairly confident that you will not only "get over it" and at some point in the future you will be actually pushing your child out the door ten minutes early (more or less) while telling them that they are close to being late for the first bell.

(NOTE: Sending children off to school gets easier with subsequent children and  time.  Sending your first child to kindergarten might be gut wrenching but by the time the last one leaves for college you are pretty much resigned, smiling, perhaps giddy at the idea. Your level of joy depends on the "ease" of the child.)

I have always had a love/hate relationship with the beginning of the school year.  When I was a little girl  starting school, you might remember in a previous  post (Whacks and Whackadoos) I didn't take an immediate "like" to school...but my love for it soon followed.  However, the days leading up to my "less than stellar" start were fairly exciting.  I remember the thrill of going "back to school" shopping. (I know I have said on numerous occasions how I despise shopping, but it was much more tolerable when someone else was paying for my stuff.)  I loved, not only the avalanche of all new clothes and shoes but picking out my book bag crammed with assorted goodies like paste, crayons, #2 pencils and such.  It all just made me  so happy.

While I doubt that today's kids can relate to the euphoria of picking out their lunch box de jour (well..actually that would be something along the lines of sac pour l'année I suppose..), one's lunch box in the late 50s required the same decision making skills as choosing one's Halloween costume.  I nearly feel sorry for the youth of today for not having the experience of picking out a metal tote with a theme. We had the glorious agony of deciding if Zorro, the Mouskateers,   Dale Evans. Roy Rogers. Lone Ranger or Davy Crockett would be appear on our  lunch box and thermos.   Sadly the cheap plastic knock off version lunch box or the cute little Pottery Barn insulated bag might have their merits but it's just not the same. (Does anyone, anywhere still use brown lunch bags?)

Even with all the sweet nostalgia related to  getting new school supplies in my youth, this time of year brings to mind the good and bad aspects associated to all the calendar school years that I have lived through as an adult, as a parent and (now) as a grandparent.

For the most part, I always looked forward to school starting when I was a student.  I loved school and could hardly wait to get back at it each year.  The first time I can say that I remember dreading that part of the year is the very year I got married. Back in those days, my hubby managed retail stores for what was an early version of the "big box" stores.  I, as you long time readers, might remember, was a teenage bride-to-be and obviously not quite equipped with enough life experience to realize NOT to plan a big wedding during September. I am fairly sure I must of mentioned this to future hubby that the date was going to be the first Saturday in September but he might of not made the connection between "back to school" and "getting married" as a major conflict of interest.  In fairness, he was working so hard for his then company he might of been mentally doing an inventory or some other boring task and not thought about the fact that his company was in NO WAY going to give him any time off during "BACK TO SCHOOL" season.  It is, after all, a major retail holiday.

After some serious pleading and groveling that included us detailing that there was a church booked, a reception planned and money to be lost if they didn't at the very least give him Saturday off, we did manage to have our wedding. AND out of the goodness of their mercenary little hearts they gave him a little time off for a honeymoon as well.

Fast forward  to around 7 years later...having to deal with "back to school" season as a parent.  One minute you have a infant and the next you have a kindergartner.  By the time our first born was ready to start school, I had developed a real hatred for this time of year thanks to my husband working for a retail company.  He basically left for work on some random August morning and came home after Christmas.  OK... maybe that is a slight exaggeration but if you ever managed a retail store, you would have to admit, I am not far from wrong.

Not only did going back to school take away my spouse thanks to the retail season of Back-to-School-Halloween-Thanksgiving-Christmas and Year End Clearance,   but this time of year was now going to deprive me from my precious little children.  Luckily for my kids they were far more grown-up than I was and seemed eager to escape go to school. Turns out that my little daughter who was only 4 days past turning 5,  could barely wait to get out the door.  I try not to take her enthusiasm as a personal assessment of my less than perfect parenting skills... but there is that possibility.

Anyway.... even though this time of year worked for my kiddos, my routine took a real hit once school was back in session every year.  Getting kids up and out the door on time is one thing but all the requirements of being an involved parent is like taking on a second career. Back in those days, I seemed incapable of ever actually verbalizing the word NO.  PTA president, sure no problem.  Bake cakes and cupcakes for parties and fundraisers...sure...happy to help.  Volunteer in the classroom because the class is larger than one would hope for this year....of course I can because the word NO escapes me.

So over the years, I did what I could as my own work schedules allowed and most of the time loved being part of all that went with the ins and outs of children heading back to the classroom.  It was with some sadness when my children grew up,  got into their cars and drove away to go to their assorted colleges.  There is nothing quite like a child loading up their car and driving away to remind me what a wonderful time it was back when we got to pick out their lunchboxes and backpacks.

Today, I am somewhat removed from being in the fray of the shoppers looking for multi-packs of #2 pencils and craft glue.  I suspect it has gotten so much harder than it used to be.

Every time I listen to my daughter discuss her "tasks" enrolling, participating or volunteering with her two sons' schools, I realize how easy I had it.  Today my grandsons go to a school where everyone is assigned an iPad and all communications from the classroom come "home"  on the computer.  School menus are subdivided into meal choices,  A, B, C, or bring your own. In today's schools if you want access you have to be "buzzed" in but only after you have your ID scanned and tell someone via the intercom who you are and what you want.  I appreciate the reasons WHY things have evolved as they have but sad that the world required it to happen.

My sweet memories of chicken noodle soup and bologna sandwiches seem horribly outdated when my daughter was saying that her son, who likes PB&J sandwiches for lunch, has a little lunch buddy, who's mother makes her own hummus so her child can dip his kale chips into it.  We are united in the idea that this child's mom would probably not want to be our BFF....
me, more so than her.  At least my daughter would have provided some organic grapes with the PB&J.  My own kids might of had a Hostess Cupcake.  I like to think nutrition was optional when my own kids were in grade school. (If it wasn't an option, people had the good grace not to mention it to me.)

So here we are just 16 short days out before the first day of school.  I feel the holiday cheer in the air as I move around town. I smile at the thought of being on the cusp of my gym's weight benches being clear of texting teens.  Kansas families are planning their routes and lists in preparedness for Missouri's  tax free weekend festivities (no sales tax on clothes, school supplies and electronics in the first weekend in August) that results  in the  mass migration of Kansans to pour into Missouri, and while I might be wrong ..probably means Hobby Lobby has to get their Christmas displays up. (or are they already out???).

There's a Nap for That

Last week, I had the pleasure of keeping my two little grandsons for the week while their mommy and daddy took a trip. It never ceases to amaze me how enlightening it is to revisit  "full time" parenting of young children.   As grandparents, most of the time we are just the cheerleading squad.  We get to stay on the side lines while the parents get to do the hard work of quarterbacking, tackling, and running the field while we give them "high fives" and  "way to go".   Yay, TEAM!!!

However, every once in a while we get a taste of what it's like to really be in the game and it's interesting...and busy and exhausting.  Turns out the game is harder than a person would think. Now I know that might sound strange given the fact, I used to be a full time mom of small children but it appears that chaos is a  acclimated environment.  Yes, like plunging into very cold water.  After awhile you adapt and don't notice that you have hypothermia.  Same with parenting little kids.  When you are in the metaphoric freezing pool of chaos you aren't noticing that your limbs are falling off.


But.....perhaps I am just out of practice.   OR maybe it's that AND things have changed in the years since I had a three year old and a six year old on a regular basis.

Thought Number One:  Some Things Have Changed While Others Remain the Same

It turns out that some thing regarding care for children are about the same as it has always been.  Bathing, brushing teeth, eat your vegetables, time for bed, stay in bed, no we aren't reading another bedtime story, no you have gone to the potty 3 times now,  no you aren't thirsty, ...are you up again?....

Yes, all of that seems fairly familiar but other things...TOTALLY different.

First of all technology came visiting and decided to worm it's way into the psyche of all living beings, including the toddler and grade school set.  For example:   Riding in a car.

AHHH..remember the good ole days when you would travel with your parents and somewhere between the license plate bingo or "I spy with my little eyes" there would be a bout of "he's touching me...make him stop!"  At that point,  any parent worth their weight in "false threats" would shout via the use of the rear view mirror.  "DO I HAVE TO STOP THIS CAR?"  Ahhh..such good memories, huh?

Today you may start out playing the "my little eyes" game but today's children are at a huge disadvantage aren't they.  They are buckled into a chair that is reminiscent of torture devices that prevent them from half hanging out the window to find the object that is being spied upon.  No more laying in the back deck above the rear seat to check out the license plates for the bingo game.  Thank goodness, they have been strapped down since infancy and don't recognize the fact they are extremely uncomfortable. 

BUT as luck would have it...technology has compensated.  Now the dual screen DVR player loaded with Disney movies lures your little ones into a video induced car coma.  Bliss, pure bliss...for both the driver and the little passengers.

However there is a caveat. Twice in the week during their stay with grandma, I needed to take hubby to the airport.  This is our life..driving to and from the Kansas City airport so grandpa can travel hither and yon. The problem is that the Kansas City airport was built in the middle of nowhere to accommodate all the little towns in the middle of the country.  So while it is an hour north of  where I live, it's quite handy for the people in southern Iowa.

Knowing that children would be in the mix for this week's airport runs, I had to make sure there was a  decent movie line up for my vehicle's DVRs.(quit shaking your head...I realize this is another First World problem)  In preparation for the trip,  I give great thought to what movies might hold their attention for 2 hours.  This would of worked out really well except for the fact, Disney animated movies only last about 1.5 hours.  By the time I am 20 minutes from home, the movie has ended and we can't play any "look out the window" games...because it's dark out in the middle of nowhere.  Damn the Disney company for not developing special DVDs that last 12 hours at a pop for long trips.  Modern parenting is so complicated.

Thought Number Two:  Wrangling the Chaos

Of course, I have plenty of opportunity to see close up how my daughter and her family go about their daily routines.  Very impressive, if I say so myself, how they seem to manage a complicated schedule for two little boys that go to two different schools and both working parents work that outside the home.  They make it look easy.  Turns out it isn't...at least not when I am in charge.

I would say the getting them up, clean, sweet smelling, fed and out the door and on time to school is the easy part.  Dealing with any situation that involves other parents...TOTAL NIGHTMARE.

First morning out, I arrive at the grade school with 10 minutes to spare before the first bell rings to find cars lined up a full block back from the school.  The one way circle drive is stacked two-wide with moms that are all but shoving kids out of  "seemingly still moving" vehicles. There is a sense of urgency in the allotted time allowed for kiddos to get out.  I, however, am a novice and am not entirely comfortable at thrusting my little grandson out the door like a bag of trash tossed onto the curb. There is the added component that I am taking care of someone elses children. Maybe there would of been a time with my own kids that I would of come to a rolling stop and yelled " Last person to hit the pavement is a rotten egg" but I am overly cautious with my grandkids.

 The mom behind me was having none of it. My lack of urgency wasn't to her liking.  It didn't escape my notice as she passed me in the "unloading" lane that she gave me the evil eye.  I probably cost her an extra 3 minutes in her busy day. I am assuming it would be really bad form to flip off a mommy at the grade school so I just pretend I am senile and hope that people blame the dementia for any infractions on my part.

Speaking of  BUSY...as the week progressed, I had a chance to talk to quite a few mommies at the soccer game, swim lessons, preschool etc. and there seems to be a shift in what mommies talk about in 2014 as opposed to the early 1980s.  No longer do they talk about recipes or what's new at the mall they talk about how busy they are at work and how tired they are.

Oh...don't get me wrong.  I am sure they are tired.  I was exhausted and I was only on day 5.  How parents work the type of jobs they have today and still manage all that goes with modern parenting is absolutely beyond my comprehension.  Still it's interesting to listen in on the conversation.

It appears that whenever a group of women congregate the conversation at some point goes to the number of hours of sleep each person  in the group had the prior night. 



Tired woman A.  " I only got 5 hours of sleep last night!"
Tired woman B " I haven't had 5 hours of sleep since little Jason was born."
Tired woman C. "I haven't had 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep in 10 years." 
Woman D.         " I try to get 8 hours every night."

At this point all conversation stops and every one in the group sends a variety of looks varying from disgust to pity.  (The group is concluding that  any woman getting 8 hours of sleep is failing short in some important way.) 


As the interloper among the group, I wouldn't dare mention that while I may or may not sleep well, it's not because, of my unmanageable schedule or my hectic pace.  It's because I am on Team Grandparents and my time is my own.  Yay team!



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Time Moves quickly

I know every young person has heard phrases like "how time flies" but part of being young is that you can't believe that is true.  Our perspective on the passage of time changes a great deal over the course of a lifetime.  I suspect time will seem even more fleeting as I get EVEN older.

Today, I was flipping through an old book.  The book, A Light In the Attic by Shel Silverstein was a book that I must have read a hundred times to my kids when they were little.  All of Silverstein's books were favorites of ours.  Along with Dr. Seuss....really any sing songy rhyming books were hits at our house.

Perhaps, some of you have read Shel Silverstein's poems to your kids. 

OR from Where the Sidewalk Ends

Occasionally, I would write sing-songy poems for my kids.  These poems were fun to write and fun to read but clearly, I am not a poet so they hit the trash fairly quickly. As far as I knew all my little poems were long gone.

But today...as I was flipping through The Light In the Attic I found an old poem that I had written and shoved it into a book unread to anyone.   It was aimed toward my son. I am sure, had I read it, he would of thought me crazy.  This would have been over 20 years ago. It was probably his job, at that point, to think of me as crazy. I wrote it on a day that I was frustrated over his messy room but wasn't wanting to fight about it with him.


The room was a dark and dangerous place.
From the floor to the ceiling, it's just a disgrace,

As I adapt to the light and my eyes become clear,
it's apparent this dump hasn't been cleaned for a year.

There's half eaten pizzas, the order-in kind. A petrified burger and fries left behind.

There's bicycle parts shoved under the bed.

The smell is suggestive that something is dead.

There's trash on the floor, wet towels in a heap,
Dirty laundry galore is piled knee deep.
Skateboards and skates from my little boy's play,
The TV,  and CDs, go with my teen of today.

My anger quickly subsides as a thought comes to mind
The day will come when this room's left behind.
In the future this mess will be a part of my past,
My gosh, the time he is with us is moving too fast.

Then this room that annoys me, will always stay clean,
No clutter, no litter,  a housekeeper's dream,
This mother  will despair as she remembers the day
When his hugs and his kisses were but an arm's length away.

So today there's no cleaning, my work here is done,
I am ignoring his room to spend time with my son.
No time today to spend dealing with messes
Time with my kids, seems suddenly precious.




I don't remember the specific day that I jotted this poem down and shoved it into the book. I must have been having a moment of sentimental attachment to my kid. Perhaps, we did go do something fun and forgot about the messy room.  OR.... maybe all that sentimentality quickly wore off and I started screaming at the little slob, and threatening bodily harm if he didn't do some serious housekeeping.

On some days, it really did make  me sad to think about the day my kids would grow up and leave. Then there were other days, that I would have helped them pack.

Note: My son grew up to be quite an organized and neat person.  We both survived his childhood...uninjured. See.... miracles do happen.

A Little Bit of Heaven

Two Thoughts for Tuesday

Thought Number One:  When did crossing the Mississippi lose it's thrill?

My childhood was spent living in two distinctly different regions of the U.S. To understand this "two region" existence, you would have to know the background of my family.

My father was born and raised in Arkansas.  The farthest he would have ever been away from home up until his adulthood,  would be the 30 miles or so across the line into southern Missouri. He was part of an enormous extended family made up of 15 aunts and uncles and "god-only-knows" how many cousins he had. Like the rest of his family he thought Arkansas was the most beautiful place on earth.  The problem was in the late 1940's and early 50's  he realized you couldn't make a decent living working in the cotton gins of the south.  There were union jobs to be had in Chicago as the nation was booming in the post World War economy.

My mother's family were all born and raised Chicagoans.  My mother's parents had always lived in the urban areas around Chicago and would have (and did) think that the my dad's people were hicks.  Well, technically, they considered them "hillbillies" which today would not be considered politically correct.

Never the less, my dad moved to Chicago and met my mother, married and had two kids. It was not a marriage that was "made in heaven" as their worlds were just too far apart. 

My father was always an Arkansas son and we drove the 9 hours to Arkansas dozens of times any given year and on a couple of occassions we moved back to live for a period of time. My dad was devoted to his family and called his parents momma and daddy right up until the time he passed away in 1995. My grandfather passed away a few years after that,  but my grandma remains in the state she was born and has lived for all of  her 98 years. There was a time that she would take little trips to see other parts of the world but no more.  She doesn't want to get far from home.

My grandma still believes that Arkansas is really the only state worth being in and she wouldn't want to take a chance being elsewhere in case she would die.  These are her thoughts not mine. I will tell you that you might try to argue the point that there are other lovely areas of the country but as far as arguing with this cute little 98 year old woman, you are sure to lose. 

So anyway back to my point of  my first thought of today's post.... as a little girl I was quite familiar with the route between southern Chicago and northern Arkansas. The highlight of the trip was always crossing the Mississippi bridge at Cairo, Illinois. It didn't matter what time of day or night we came to the bridge, my brother and I would watch with awe as we made our way over that bridge. In those days, in the eyes of a child that was the most magnificent river on the planet. AND that bridge was something to behold.

I have since crossed the Mississippi thousands of times.  We have lived in the Quad Cities, Hannibal, Mo., St. Louis, Mo  and Collinsville, Il. which all sit on or near the banks of the Mississippi. On any given day we would have driven over the river to get to our jobs, to shop, to run errands and it became routine.  No awe, no thrill, just a way to get where we needed to be.  Somewhere between my childhood and my life as a grown up, the excitement of crossing that bridge (or other bridges like it) vanished.

Now on to Thought number Two: The Views of My Childhood in Photographs

Even as a little girl, I realized the vast difference in the topography of the Illinois, Missouri and Arkansas.  I used to bombard my dad with questions like "why is the dirt red instead of black here?" ( while in the south) or "why is there corn in all the fields instead of cotton?" ( while in the north) The answer is always the same.  That is the difference between the Ozarks and every where else.


So a couple of months ago, I started seeing pictures posted over at Really?! Wait! What? of areas that look just like the areas I played as a child.  Areas where the mineral springs bubbled out of the ground and made wonderful swimming holes or little creeks that wound through the yards.  These photographs reflect an area that time has hardly touched  in the 50 years or so since I made those trips so my dad could see his momma and daddy. 

There were other pictures as well that capture the very essence of the Ozarks.  I think Jewell has about 200 or so of the most extraordinary pictures of the area that it has ever been my pleasure to see. I encourage you to jump over to her blog and take a peek.  Even if you don't have a historical need to see the tin roof of a shotgun house, you will surely find some pictures that move you.

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This house is in the Ozark area of Ark.



The Good for the Day....The ability that some people (like Jewell) have to capture pieces of art in the lense of a camera.

The Bad for the Day...losing the wonder and awe that we experienced as children.

The Weird for the Day...As a kid, I thought the little shotgun houses were so cute. I had a great aunt that had a double shotgun house and thought she must be rich.  Today the thought of living in a house with this floor plan gives me the shakes.



You Guilty Mothers

Recently the Today Show did a poll asking mothers if they experienced guilt.  The poll, Escaping the Mommy Guilt Trap showed that 94 percent of the mother's polled said they feel guilty. 

I have a few problems with this poll. You absolutely knew I would, didn't you?

A.  Why are we limiting it to mother's feeling guilty? Isn't there enough guilt to share among the fathers, aunt's, uncle's, grandparents and anyone else in the passing vicinity of the child? Really why isn't the TSA pat-down artist that made the little 6 year old cry, being included?

B. Why does the wording of the poll give the indication that feeling guilt "is in the present tense".  I think, I can safely say that mothers of older children are carrying guilt forward.   For example, here are a few guilts that I cling to rather zealously even though my children are grown.

1.  I feel badly that I owe Big Bird $17,476.23 in back babysitting money. 

2.  Also, feeling badly for slighting Mr. Rogers.  I never sent a letter to his neighborhood and thanked him for teaching my kids to hang up their sweaters and put their shoes into the closet.

3.  I am sorry that I damaged Kiddo #2 skateboard by trying to....well...ride a skateboard...  but what I did in actuality was crash a skateboard  into the mailbox. Doesn't sound like much now, but young boys value their boards.

4.  I feel guilty and embarrassed that I backed into Kiddo #1 car when she was 16 because I was running late for work and didn't look behind me. Had it been her driving, I would have yelled at her for being careless.  You know and I know it.

5. I especially feel guilty for harshly scolding Kiddo #2 for biting the little girl in our back yard after he asked her repeatedly to let him have a turn on his new swing set.  I over reacted because the mother of "the little brat Lindsey,  told me my kid was the devil and I was a horrible mother.  In retrospect, I should of told that bitch to keep her rotten kid out of my yard and additionally, teach her little snot box to share.

6. I feel guilty about the time that I was running late to pickup Kiddo #2 from preschool and Kiddo #1 decided to walk home from her grade school because I hadn't gotten there on time.  When I did locate my MIA first grader she was sitting on our front porch  of our house crying.  For this guilt, you could come over and shoot me through my heart with a blunt arrow and it would hurt less.

7. I feel guilt for all the times I lost my patience because, I worked full time and was tired and worried about everything imaginable, (because that is who I am) and was abrupt with them.  They didn't deserve it, I am sure.

8. I am guilty of not telling my kids 10,000+ times what great kids they were/are and how despite the fact I made mistakes, they grew up to be good people.

9. Last one of thousands that I could write.  I am feeling some remorse for the fact I didn't send graduation announcements out to everyone that made my kids feel badly or criticized them unjustly, when they both graduated from college with honors.(yeah, both with honors, top of their classes) I would have liked the announcements to be similar to the recordable Hallmark cards so when the aforementioned butt heads opened them they went

"NA NA NAH NA NA".

Well, blogees, I realize I could keep kicking myself in the butt for numerous faux pas on my part but let us move to another question.

Here's, what I want to know.  "Why are the 6 percent of women that took this poll saying they  have  no guilt?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU SIX PERCENT??? ARE YOU INCAPABLE OF EMOTION? ARE YOU NOT HUMAN? WHAT IS UP WITH THE NO GUILT? ARE YOU PERFECT IN ALL THINGS OR JUST MOTHERING?

Are you truly the SUPERMOM that I wanted to be but didn't achieve.  I hope you are all writing "how to" books and publishing MOMMY BLOGS.  Too late for me to follow your example but maybe I could apply some of your vast knowledge on how to do every thing right with my grandsons.


While this song is a parent singing about a son, it could be equally about a daughter.



The Good for the Day....Our children grow up in spite of our weaknesses.

The Bad for the Day...Some parents just don't even make an effort to TRY and do right by their children.

The Weird for the day... That my children escaped any real harm in the production of their lives with me as their mother.