"NEW MATH": ANOTHER LIFE LESSON

When I was in Junior High, my mom left my step-dad and we moved from south Texas back up to Cleveland, Ohio.  Enrolling mid-semester in a five-story urban school created problems for all.  The counselors tried to find classes that would equal the classes I had back in Texas, which was the first obstacle in my educational process.  Showing up to unfamiliar classrooms was embarrassing enough and the material in some classes sounded like it was being taught in a foreign language. 

Math has always been a challenge for me, but luckily I was enrolled in a class with an understanding teacher.  He would work problems on the board all period and then at then end he would write three problems on the board for our homework assignment.  I dutifully copied those problems down and as I left the classroom, I quietly told him that we hadn't covered that back in my old school.  He smiled and said for me to do my best and when I caught up, I could turn in the work.

Each day I would go home and open up my binder and stare at the three problems.  I would try many approaches to solve the problems, asked my mom for help ("Honey, I haven't been in school for over twenty years") and then return to class without solutions.  At the beginning of the class, students would turn in pages of homework, which only added to my frustration.  How could I be so dumb?  Everyone else understood how to do the work?  How did the students get pages of work out of three problems? 

By the end of the week, I gulped down my nervous stomach juices and turned to the girl next to me and asked, "How do you get so many pages of homework out of three problems?" 

To her credit, she didn't laugh, but merely said, "What are you talking about?  Three problems?  What three problems?"

I pointed to the board and said, "Those three problems from yesterday." 
On the board was written:
PP 114-115 A, B, F
PP 116-118 C, D, E
PP 119-120 F, G, H

She explained, "That's pages one hundred fourteen through page one hundred fifteen and you do all the A, B, F problems.  Then you go to pages one hundred sixteen through page one hundred eighteen and do all the C, D and E problems.  Finally, you do the same thing with the last pages."  From then on I understood the math a whole lot better.  You see where I went to school in Texas, my teacher used the abbreviation pgs. for pages and not PP. 

When I am stumped why someone doesn't understand something that is so clear to me, I try to remember how maybe they haven't had the same life experiences as me and they don't understand the shorthand I use. 

BILLBOARDS: TRUTH?

This doctor's promises ring hollow with me and I have the scars to prove it.

Don't you wish that you were Emily and not Steven?

Wonder when we will see the tapes of Ryan?  Probably wouldn't surprise any of us.

NEW TIME: NEW BAKERY DEMANDS

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I wonder if I can order either of these cakes for the end of the year "celebration".  After all, we celebrated the beginning of the journey of our daughter and her chosen one.  Now that his out of control anger has killed any possibility of a healthy relationship, I guess I should contact the wedding baker and place the order. 

No, I'm really not going to order a cake, but I like the idea of the designs.  Have to keep my  sense of humor during these times of packing away wedding portraits, family pictures, etc. 

X: THE UNKNOWN FACTOR IN RELATIONSHIPS

Time and circumstances have brought the X factor into our lives. Daily situations are complicated enough, but now whenever we include our daughter and her son in our lives we have to deal with the X factor. X has to be considered before we can plan on seeing our Grandlove. X has to be consulted before out of town visits with us can be co-ordinated. X is all powerful, as X can demand more parental involvement at a whim. So, we are careful to keep X happy, non-threatening, and co-operative.

Personally, I believe that if X had been more plugged-in, gentle, and less angry in the previous years, this blog wouldn't exist.

Too little, too late and my inner voice is screaming, "WARNING! WARNING! Calm, co-operative manner is a cover-up for destructive agenda!"

Yes, of course I realize that my X factor comes into play, also. My main focus has always been on my Grandlove, so nothing has changed there. With me, I don't hide my emotions, feeling or opinions.

DIVORCE: THE NEXT GENERATION

During the past few weeks we are going through another change that initially caught us off guard. When the word "divorce" was mentioned and then declared as a fact in our life, we were hit with a tsunami of emotions. Disbelief, disappointment, and despair began our journey through these times.

My husband and I are both children of divorce, so naturally we carry our own personal experiences in our hearts. Not to go into too many details here about how divorce was dealt with in our childhoods, just let me say that it wasn't pleasant for either one of us. Emotions ran high, blame was thrown at each other, and feelings were hurt for many years. That is what we both experienced and that formed our knowledge basis of what was "normal" with divorce.

Before the MOVE from the house to the apartment, we were around the divorcing couple and their sweet little boy. Helpfulness, attentiveness and kindness were abundantly in evidence. The soon to be divorced couple worked as a cohesive couple, which confused us.

As the weeks have passed confusion keeps clouding my thinking. Why could this couple work together to break up and not work together to stay as a couple? No ugly words; no rolling of eyes when help was requested; no impatiences shown by either one; and the list continues.

Throughout all of this I redirect my mind to the one goal that we have all pledged to honor: The Grandlove deserves to have the very best life possible.

New times, new way of dealing with the age old problem: Divorce while keeping the spotlight of love still shining on the precious child.

MORE QUESTIONS THAN ANSWERS

Yesterday, went well with the movers, although there were some minor glitches. Stormy skies opened up for a ten minute downpour, which was shorter than we expected since we have been enduring terrific hurricane-related rainstorms. Movers were three hours early, which really didn't matter, since the whip-cracker (that would be me, of course) had pushed the packing process. Bookcases had been emptied; dresser drawers had been packed; fragile collectibles securely bubbled wrapped; bedroom furniture disassembled; and larger pieces chosen for the strong backs of the moving men.

Since we were paying by the hour and not the piece, we selected the pieces that could be quickly, expertly wrapped, loaded and then unloaded. We didn't realize that all glass fronts and shelves would be removed, before loading in the mover's trailer. That took a little more time, but it was their policy to protect from breakage. No problem, in fact we had enough time at the delivery that the mover put all the glass back in place of the display cabinet. After the time was up, cash was exchanged, receipt signed and the movers left.

Now this is where other questions begin to surface:

Will our daughter and Grandlove be able to make it on their own, financially? Will her husband help to financially support them without falling short, like so many times before? In the past, he has gotten financial support from us (you don't want to know how much, really) and now he has money to spend on a lawyer. His answer as to where he got money for the lawyer almost made me choke--I can't swallow lies, very easily. During their years together, he hasn't had funds for necessities and NOW he has money. Unbelievable! I held my tongue when he said where he got the money. His wife and son have done without and he could have acquired these funds during the years and yet he choose not to use them. That is if I believed him, but I have grown jaded, I suppose, and don't believe him or his motives.

Will there be unpleasant surprises when she receives the papers from his lawyer? My fear is that he and his "camp" will fight to have full custody of our Grandlove. Our daughter doesn't feel like this will happen. I do want to be wrong in this instance and I will be so happy if I am.

Our daughter doesn't feel like he is being insincere with being so "nicey-nicey" and helpful; I on the other hand have encountered this sort of behavior before. Surface behavior is not the true indicator of character; it's the deep motivators that actually reveal who people are.

His motivation? Helping to make transition easier for our daughter and Grandlove or building a case to secure full-time custody of the Sweet Innocence?

Call me old-fashioned; call me self-centered; call me unrealistic, I don't care. I believe THIS child should live with his mother. Yeah, I know there are exceptions, but at this point my world's view is focused on our sweet boy and his mom, which is where he belongs.

So at the end of the day, I am scared that our Grandlove's well-being is at stake. He adores his father, which is wonderful. His eyes light up when he spots his mom and then he smiles. I have seen how they interact with their son and I will tell you that his mom doesn't approach him with anger and frustration.

Little guys get into stuff that they shouldn't and do things they shouldn't. Keeping an even temper is important, because I've seen what happens when a child obeys because of fear. Fear driven obedience isn't something that is helpful for children. Love, patience and tolerance must temper the discipline for a child.

Anger and frustration have been the way our Grandlove's father has dealt with everything from dirty dishes to dirty diapers. His mother has just laughed it off and said that he takes after his dad. (What an inheritance, huh?) I fear what will happen when our Grandlove reaches the point of questioning authority (which will happen.) There are older cousins and uncles around as proof what happens when anger and frustration are the emotions constantly exhibited.

Legal paperwork will lay out the terms of the custody and visitation and we'll see how it all is laid out.

I don't sleep well because of worry concerning our Grandlove and his future. Biting my tongue, praying and trying to detach from the situation are my plans of action for now.

TOUGH CHALLENGE: AM I ABLE?

For the next couple of days, I am facing a difficult challenge and let's hope that I can muster my inner strength and intestinal fortitude to conquer what is set before me.

This particular obstacle is multi-layered and each layer presents its own unique difficulties. While performing my task I must maintain a semblance of polite tolerance for someone I would like to set out for the next garbage collection. Ignoring not too subtle body language, focusing in on sounds other than angry remarks and keeping my opinions bottled within will tax my already overloaded fuse box.

There are fragile items to be bubbled wrapped; appliances to be unhooked and loaded; bedroom furniture to be disassembled; pictures to box (what to do with the large wedding portrait over the fireplace?); and many other preparations completed before the movers come next week.

My frustration with the situation will be shoved down. Frustration that nothing is packed, yet; organization and planning for moving has reached a standstill and emotions are right on the surface for everyone.

Can I actually be in the same house as the person who has crushed our daughter? Should be interesting; we'll see.

This is where my past of surviving intolerable situations kicks in. I put my head down, complete the tasks at hand and draw strength from the fact that once this move is over, a new, better life is in store for our daughter and her beautiful boy.

My payment for all the planning, monetary contribution and physical help is waiting for me in the form of hugs, smiles and kisses from my sweet boy and his priceless momma. I get to hug them both and smell the tops of their heads, breathing in the aroma of love and hope for brighter days ahead.