Cranky Jennie ;-p

I want to know what you have to do as a parent to inspire excellence in your children.  Why is one person lazy while another is highly motivated?  Is it a genetic thing or can we train our kids to “aim high”?

My kids are a study in contrasts.  S is a perfectionist, but only when it comes to school work.  She wants all her “t’s” crossed and “i’s” dotted.  If you saw her room, you’d never believe it, but it’s true!

R, on the other hand…

She had her first real book report project due this week.  Now, if it was up to her, she would have waited until the night before to read the book AND do the project.  Instead, her mother (ME) haunted her and made sure she read a little bit every night.  She finished three days before the project was due.  Imagine that!  Finishing with time  to spare…

So, on to the project itself.  I helped her with the written part by asking her leading questions (remember, this is her project, not mine).  I offered suggestions for the art work, but had her do it all herself.  Of course, she did the minimum.  The project was done.  Then she put it down on the counter, in some butter that dripped off her lunch plate.  She wiped it off and was ready to put it, stained, in her backpack.  WHAT????!!!!!!!  Why is that mess acceptable to hand in?!

Yes, I made her re-do the entire thing (it took all of 10 minutes).

I just don’t understand why the bare minimum is enough for her.  Doesn’t she have higher expectations of herself?  I certainly do!

So, this brings me back to my original query: is ambition/perfection/excellence inborn or created?  If there is a special formula, I want to know what it is!

I don’t think R realizes how easy things are for her.  I think that’s part of it.  If things weren’t so easy, she would HAVE to work harder and put in SOME effort.  Eventually, she will see this aptitude as a gift.  Right now, she uses it as an excuse and that drives me crazy!!!

Somewhere, across the country, my mother is nodding her head while remembering a little girl who acted an awful lot like Miss R…

Today, my baby turned 9.  Where does that time go?

9 years ago, I nervously entered the hospital with G.  You really can’t even imagine what parenthood is like until you embark on this adventure.  When R entered the world, we thought we were the coolest people in the world.  I mean, look what we made!

Making them, however, is the easy part!

I was not one of the seemingly majority of women who fell in love with my baby in utero.  It took awhile.  What I did feel immediately was an overwhelming sense of protection.  I needed to fill every need for this perfect little being.  That need to protect and nurture has only blossomed as she has grown.  I would protect her with my life.  You don’t mess with my kiddos!!!!

There are so many moments I could mention in her not-so-long life so far. R is shy and awkward socially.  In fact, I think people find her standoffish at times and take her as even arrogant, which is so far from the truth.  She just struggles from time to time.  She’s not quite sure of herself.  In an interesting twist, her sister is super-confident and unafraid to “put herself out there”.  Genetics can be very interesting!

I am a huge proponent of doing what makes you happy.  I want my children to find something they’re passionate about.  R has had a foot in many different ventures: dance, softball, basketball, golf, music, art, etc.  I let my kids try everything and anything (plus, they have to stick it out - finishing what you start and all of that).

This year, R has really started showing an interest in music.  I am hoping she’s found her niche.  It’s not too much of a long-shot, since her father has a great ear and plays multiple instruments.

When I look at R, I am stunned that she has grown up so fast.  It seems like yesterday I was singing “The Wheels on the Bus” to her.  Now she’s reading full-length novels, emailing her friends (with my supervision), mastering DS games, and winning science fairs.

Oh, and in the meantime, I’ve aged exponentially!  I don’t think my mother filled me in on that little tidbit before I had kids!

Happy Birthday, R, I love you more and more every day.  You are a bright shining star in my life.

Fat, lazy bitch.

Ok, I got that out of the way!

I am taking College Algebra.  The last time I encountered quadratic functions, I was a hormonally-charged, awkward 12 year old.  A.K.A. a long, long time ago, in a faraway land!  This was also around the time that I had a math teacher who could actually teach.

The longer I sit in class listening to my “teacher” (and I use that term very, very lightly) read the textbook to the class, the more frustrated and angry I become.  Early this week, Prof. Lazy Ass berated the class for 30 minutes because we performed poorly on the last quiz.  According to her tirade, we aren’t spending enough time learning and studying the material.  The part she conveniently omitted is that she didn’t actually spend any time teaching us that material!

So, I took my anger and frustration to the head of the math department.  Apparently, I was not the first person to show up to file a complaint.  His advice was to talk to her and tell her what I was looking for in the class.  So, today, I did just that.

After she read the latest chapter to the class, AGAIN, I asked her to put problems on the board to illustrate the kinds of examples she just (supposedly) explained.  That was what I needed.  I need to “see” the example and have it explained step by step.  I KNOW I am not alone in this desire to actually be TAUGHT.

There’s active teaching and there’s passive teaching.  Then there is Prof. Lazy Ass.  I really want someone to explain to me why I need to sit in a classroom for two hours listening to a teacher read the textbook to me?

So, back to my Question of the Day - the need for examples worked out on the white board.  Her answer?  No.  Yes, you read that correctly.  She told me, “No”.  Another student asked for the same thing and she also said, “no” so it’s not a personal thing.  When I also added that many of us were visual learners who needed to see the problems, she told the class that, “that is not my style of teaching (HAHAHAHAHAHA).  If you have a question, you’ll need to come to me individually”.  Does that make sense?  What if 10 people have the same question?  Wouldn’t it make sense to do the problem on the board and kill 10 birds with one stone?

So, after class, I (and a group of other students) went BACK to the head of the department.  Ultimately, he went to speak to her and she said she’d be happy to meet with each of us individually.  Well, DUH, that doesn’t solve the problem.  The problem is SHE DOESN’T EFFING TEACH!  UGH.  I am so frustrated!

Don’t I pay her salary via school tuition?  So, is it too much of a stretch to say she works for me?  In any other sector, she would be fired.  I mean, honestly, she is NOT DOING HER JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, what is my recourse?  Well, I plan on stopping by the Dean of Students tomorrow and then maybe I’ll stage a coup and teach the class myself on Monday.

Can you count how many people truly know you?  I don’t mean just the part of you that you show to the outside world.  I mean the part of you that makes you YOU.

I can count four: my mother, my father, my brother and my husband.  Does that make me lucky or pathetic?  I don’t know!  What I do know is that these four people love me and all my flaws.  They understand why I do the things I do and say the things I say.  They understand how I feel about things and why I act out according to those feelings.  They don’t judge my actions or my emotions.  They understand them.

I believe each of us needs at least one person like this.  They become the soft ground upon which we fall when things in life knock us down.  They are our incredible support system.  As human beings, I feel it is necessary to have this kind of connection in order to survive.

Where I falter is when people judge only the exterior.  I have one acquaintance who believes I’m pessimistic.  Far from it!  It is my belief is the inherent good of people that frequently disappoints me!  I’m an eternally optimist with a heavy dosage of realism.  Actually, I’d probably be better off if I was more of a realist than an optimist, but old habits die hard!  A few years ago, my family went through multiple illnesses and deaths within a short time span.  To process all of this, I talked. A lot.  This is how I deal with things that upset me.  Apparently, said acquaintance did not want to listen to my “tales of woe”, and thus labeled me a pessimist.  So be it.

I am a tough-talking, potty-mouthed, no-nonsense kind girl.  However, if you saw me with my family and my pets, you would see that that is just a survival mechanism meant to protect a much softer shell.    Not many people have seen me vulnerable.  I learned early on that the world is not kind to those who are vulnerable, so I tucked it deep inside where it stays protected.  I hurt just like everyone else, but I am too stubborn to show it.  The potty-mouthed part of me is the real me and that’s because I just like the versatility of the “F” word!

I talk incessantly.  It’s a nervous twitch, like Tourette’s.  However, I am trying to calm that reaction down a bit.  Case in point: I sit through my three-hour Anatomy & Physiology class and barely utter a word (a new record for me!).  Now that I am around human beings again (a.k.a. not just children), I find I don’t have to fill up every void with some kind of mindless chatter.

A long time ago, a wise woman told me that you never truly know what is going on in someone else’s head, heart or life.  The lesson was to refrain from judgment.  If  you really want to know the answers, ask.  If not, don’t just assume.  Assuming makes an Ass out of U and Mi.