Proud Mommy

Tonight my children exhibited their lambs at our county livestock shows.  Our county is one of the most competitive in the state...so winning it is a big deal.  This year my two darling children did not just win it, but they dominated it.  My daughter is nine years old, so this is the first year she has been allowed to participate at the county show.  She is an official 4-Her.  She walked into the ring determined to win.  She had Reserve Breed Champion Southdown and Reserve Breed Champion Suffolk...she shined in the ring.  Then her big brother (who is a senior) decided to go out with a bang.  He had Breed Champion Shrop and Breed Champion Cross...then he did something that I have not seen in the eleven years my husband has been teaching in this county happen in the sheep barn and only once in the swine barn...he won Grand and Reserve Grand Champion Lamb.  It was so exciting watching his face light up.  This was the third year in a row that he has won Grand Champion.  He was so excited.  He works so hard, so it was the reward for all of his, his sister's, and his father's hard work.  They work so well as a team and tonight they won as a team.  Then to make my day even more perfect, a lady that I don't really know stopped me as I was walking through the barn.  She wanted to tell me that I had polite, well-behaved children that were a joy to be around.  She informed me that I should be proud of them...I told her I was.  And I am!  I am very blessed to have all three of them in my life!

My Son--My Hero

When I started this blog I was excited to see where it led me.  In May, our lives took a drastic turn.  My children and I rode out a tornado in the master bedroom closet.  Our house had major damage that took us all summer to repair.  But the worst was the security that storm took from our lives.  My children are anxious when they see dark rain clouds, I watch the weather with a heavy heart, and my husband still has guilt about being in Illinois when it hit and not with us.  But we have discovered how much we mean to each other.  I learned about the strong, protective son I raised as I watched him throw his body across his little sister to protect her from the falling ceiling. 

 

On the night of the storm I watched my 17 year old turn into the man I knew he would someday be.  He took charge that night.  After he helped rescued nine trapped neighbors from a storm cellar, he began to work on cleaning our home.  He worked for days removing trees, trash, and debris from our home.  He became my hero in so many ways.  I had always been proud of him, but now I was proud of the man he is becoming.  Until his father returned home, he was the man of the house.  He learned skills and applied skills his father had taught him, but he had never used.  I watched him care for and assist our older neighbors as they worked to clean their yards and homes.  He willing volunteered to help them.  He didn’t complain, he just did what needed to be done.  My son is my hero.

Why isn't life easy?

As a mother, the hardest thing for me is to watch my children hurt.  Whether it is a physical or emotional pain, neither are easy to witness.  I personally feel that watching my children in emotional pain is the worse.  My eight year old wears her feelings on her shoulders.  She has two settings, happy or sad.  She doesn't get mad, she doesn't get angry, and she never is out for revenge.  Unfortunately that sets her up for a lot of heartache.  She feels for others and allows them to run over her in the process.  My seventeen year old is tougher, but he gets mad.  Most of the time he focuses that anger on me.  He "blames" me for a lot of wrongs in his life.  I think he feels that I should be able to fix more than I can.  He knows that I'm not superwoman, but that doesn't stop him from wishing.

Proud Mommy

I was sent a copy of the local newspaper tonight that has my son on the front cover.  He is one of 43 high school students that was awarded a scholarship for a week long trip to Washington, D.C.  He gets to have an amazing trip with an incredible learning experience.  He is going to meet people from all over the U.S.   He will get to see national monuments and visit places of American history.  Why?  Because he was dedicated to his local, state, and national FFA.  He not only believes in it, he is active in it.  He wears his blue and gold jacket with pride.  But not as much pride as I have of him!

Death in the Barn

As most of you know, we show lambs.  My son began his 4-H and FFA career as a cloverbud in 4-H when he was 4.  His father came home with two gilts (female swine) that quickly became my son's best friends.  Over the years, we have replaced them with numerous other show animals.  A little over four years ago, my son convinced his father that showing lambs was in his future.  He quickly learned that taking care of lambs is harder than swine.  They require a different type of work and they become ill faster than swine. 

This year we all worked hard to prepare for the end of our show season.  The last show for us is in mid March at Oklahoma Youth Expo.  Attending the show is like going to a family reunion for our family.  We are excited about seeing old friends and making new ones.  This year we had worked hard for this event.  Days before the show, our animals became ill.  One would not eat, one acted as if the drench was making it ill, and one just seemed to stop growing.  All year we had worked hard for this event and the lambs seemed to want to quit.  My husband rallied his troops and went in search for the best way to fix the problems.  And his seemed to be winning the fight.

On show day, the lamb that my son loved was out of sorts.  He would stand in the pen with his head down.  He seemed to be retaining gas.  You could just tell he was not feeling well.  The vet prescribed some medicine.  We thought things were better.  He showed in the cross drive and placed fourth.  Then tragedy happened.  He went back to the pen and would not get up.  After begging, pleading, and prodding; my son was able to get him up.  He took three steps down the aisle and fell down and died.  The tears and sobbing coming from my 17 year old son was awful.  This lamb was like his favorite pet.  I quickly removed him from the scene and went into mommy mode.  I worked to find a silver lining in the cloud.  After calming him down and leaving him with friends, I returned to the stalls to find my 8 year old in tears.  She watched as OYE employees placed the lamb in a trash can.  She kept repeating "He has a face, he has a name, and he is our pet.  Pets don't belong in trash cans."  Once again mommy mode took over.  How do you explain to an 8 year old that this is a fact of life?  How do you make it better?  The drive home from the barn was the hardest ever.  My kids lost something they loved.  They both also lost some of their innocence in that barn.  I hope that other show families don't have to go through what we went through.

One Week in My Life

This week has been so busy.  So I thought I would start at the beginning.
Monday-Valentine's Day--this is one of our party days at school.  First, I want to go on record that any week that starts with a party is doomed from the beginning, especially a party filled with red food coloring!  I was given lots of treats by my kids.  My husband and children sent me a Dr. Pepper bouquet.  Yes, no traditional flowers for me!  I got a bouquet filled with 8 oz bottles of Dr. Pepper, candy, and balloons.  Does my husband know my weakness or what?

Tuesday-I have duty each morning this week.  That means I have to be at school at least twenty minutes early.  I was running late on Tuesday and felt that way all week.  I hate being late. 

Wednesday-Parent/teacher meeting-- This meeting was special.  The little girl is a doll and her mother wants so bad to do what is best for her.  We met to discuss getting her some special help, but I left sad.  I think that sometimes we are not servicing the child when we don't help the parents.  I think that for social services and DHS to work, they need to be in the school.  I walked away from the meeting with a burden to help the mother.  She wants to make a better life for her child, but doesn't know how. 

Then after school I raced to the district livestock show.  My son was reserve breed Hampshire.  I love watching him show.  It is an amazing feeling when I see him have success at something.  After he showed his first sheep, I discovered that I had made a BIG mistake on his proficiency award application.  I couldn't get the internet to work at the barn, so I had to drive 30 + minutes home and spend an hour working on it.  I was so mentally drained by the time the boys pulled in to the house, but I wasn't done.  I had to go out to the barn and help unload sheep and medicate them.  I accidently stabbed my husband with a needle full of sheep medicine.  He was a good sport about it (I wouldn't have been!)  Needless to say, I fell into bed exhausted.

Thursday--I spent the day in a fog.  I can't seem to shake a headache I have had for the last three days.  My day was rough.  One of my students spent the day crying about everything.  On days like this, I don't think I am a very good teacher.  At the end of the day, three little darlings got away from a sub and ran out to their bus.  While they were never in any super danger, the experience scared me to death.  I shook all night long imagining the worst case scenario.

Friday—The crier from Thursday was pumped.  His birthday party was Friday night.  I spent my day dragging him back to the ground.  My son went to a power lifting meet and placed 3^rd in his weight division.  I am amazed that this kid can lift anything.  A year ago we were told he would never play sports again.  We were told that he would have to have surgery on his knee, but God had another plan.  He sent us to a wonderful physical therapist that worked wonders.  She is the reason that he is able to do so much. 

Saturday—Today is the big day.  My 8 year old daughter has been waiting for months for a chance to sign up for soccer.  Today that is the day that it is going to happen.  I just hope it is her sport and she loves it as much as she thinks she will!  I will keep you posted!

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When Is Enough, Enough?

As a teacher, I want to wear a t-shirt that says "I am a parent, too!"  At least once a week I get a note, a phone call, or an email with a parent wanting to "discuss" some injustice done to their child.  I work hard to make sure children in my care are not bullied.  I diligently watch against a child feeling that their self-worth is lacking.  I am in the building-a-child-up business.  It not only insults me, but it hurts my feeling that someone would believe I would hurt or allow a child to be hurt in my care.  Most of the incidents that I am contacted about are incomplete pictures.  Unfortunately some parents don't want to have the whole picture.  They are happy believing that everyone else is mean to their child.  I have especially seen this in some fathers with their little girls.  I have had "mean girls" in my class.  Last year I had a group of little six year old girls that called themselves the "mean girl club."  The ring leader of the club could do no wrong in her dad's eyes.  When I contacted him or his wife about her behavior, I would hear how she was innocent and the others were evil.  Last week I observed an altercation with this man and his older son.  I saw his older son throw his arm back as if he was going to hit his father.  The father was more worried about how this appeared to others around them.  He was more worried about protecting his son's image than disciplining his son.  Then less than five minutes later, I saw him reach into his pocket and hand his son some money.  I was blown away with the lack of parenting, but I wasn't surprised.  I believe that as defiant and rude as his older son is, his younger daughter is going to be worse.  She watches how her older brother interacts with the family and thinks it is funny.  She sees the  boundaries being stretched and is willing to push them further  If she is already the leader of the “mean girl club” at the age of 6, can you imagine the damage she will do at the age of 16.   

I don't understand why people think they need to be friends with their child.  And I don't understand why parents think that they have to fight every fight for their child.  I agree that kids shouldn't be bullied, but at the same time if children don’t ever learn to stand up for themselves they are in for a lot of heartache.  I watch children (OK, 18 year old boys) call mommy over every little problem.  A bad grade for not completing homework...call mommy and she will come to the school and yell at the teacher.  Not getting an award that you think you deserve...call mommy and she will yell at the person in charge until you get an award, too.  Recently an acquaintance of mine became upset that her son wasn’t going to win an award at graduation.  Instead of seeing what the criteria was and how her son was lacking, she immediately assumes the school and the counselor is in the wrong.  When is it too soon to teach children responsibility?  At what age should we expect children to fight their own battles?  When do you allow them to handle problems themselves? 

I personally think that it starts at the earliest age.  Parents should teach their children how to use words to solve problems.  Parents should not run to the school or call every time a child forgets their homework.  By allowing children to take responsibility for their actions at an early age, you are training an adult that can take care of themselves.  And isn’t that my job as a parent?