One month later

It's been a month since our cat, Bobbie, died. I still miss her every day.

Thankfully, I'm not a blubbering mess like I was that first week, but her lack of presence is still felt.

Especially in the mornings.

Two mornings this week (so far), we were late. (The other morning, the girls spent at my parents' house so that doesn't count.)

I remember when I used to bitch about Bobbie waking me up too early or with a scratch sometimes. What I wouldn't give to have a scratch on my nose again! From her. (Still not ready to consider a new pet yet; for both practical and emotional reasons.)

When Riley comes back from my parents' house, she's covered in their cat's hair and it just makes my heart ache. I think she spends so much time with Max because she misses Bobbie terribly, too.

Neither of the girls really like to talk about it. What's to talk about? She was a cat, she loved us, we loved her, and she's dead now.

So why am I going on about it here?

I don't know. I just needed to commemorate the milestone of somehow making it through the past month without her.

I think, after 21 years, it will probably take at least 21 weeks - if not longer - to get used to this.

An Unexpected Update

A couple of weeks ago, X called and said he'd like to come see the show and spend some time with the girls. I told him that's fine, I'd leave our schedule open, but to please not say anything to the girls. Just in case it didn't work out. He respected that.
Sure enough, he called the day he said he'd be in town, and the girls and I spent some time with him. And it was a very nice visit.

He paid for meals, took the girls shopping, was where he said he'd be, and was pleasant to be around. I said things that just felt weird, like, "we're having breakfast with your dad."

They haven't seen him in two years, but Sylvia has been texting with him more regularly for the past few months. Of course, they hoped he would come see the show, but they wouldn't even voice that until I told them that he was here.

Sylvia jumped up and down immediately, of course. Riley's reaction was quiet, and she withdrew to her room. About 15 minutes later, she came bouncing out, "Okay, I'm excited now! I just needed to process."

He invited me to join them for lunch and shopping, which worked out to be a nice way for all of us to feel more comfortable. After a couple of hours, I left them to spend some time with him before I picked them up for the play.

He seemed to really enjoy it (I could hear his laughter a few times), and the girls were so excited and proud that he was there. He was so impressed with how well they did.

The next day, we all had breakfast together. (And it was weird for me to tell the host that we were a party of 4; I've gotten so used to odd numbers.) Then it was time to say good-bye.

The girls agreed, it was a very nice visit. I know it meant the world to them that their dad made a special effort to be there.  While we hope there are more nice visits in the future, we will remain prepared for anything.

After the good-byes, we went to our final performance and cast party, and Monday morning, back to our commute and school and work. As nice as the weekend was, it's also nice to get back to our daily lives.

Glimpses

Thanks to Mom for inspiring the name of this post!

Sylvia's first day of school went fairly well. But this pic of her was actually taken at the end of last school year at her dance recital.

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We opened the musical this past weekend! It's going very well.

And I got this great pic of Riley from the local newspaper's coverage.

Speaking of glimpses, my mother and I have been catching glimpses of each other in the mornings, now that I'm back on the road, driving the girls to school. A few days ago, she sent me an email "I saw you!" On such and such street. "You were wearing yellow." I look down. I'm wearing a pink and white striped shirt layered over a pink tank top. And I never wear yellow. So I wasn't quite convinced she saw me. A day or so later, I'm driving through Griffith Park, and I see my mom, walking. I practically come to a screeching halt, frantically waving to her, but she remains oblivious, lost in her iPod. Finally, yesterday, again through Griffith Park, we saw each other and waved. Every so often, this crazy city actually feels like our family neighborhood.

3 More Years

My heart skips a beat as I realize, I have just three more years with Sylvia before she starts living most of her life independently. She starts her sophomore year today, and I am filled with so many emotions.

Just three more years of waking her up and driving her to school. Just three more years of attempting to give her all the opportunities I can before she's making her own schedule. Just three more years of knowing where she is at all times.

As my oldest, she has had to endure the most of my parental mistakes as I sometimes have to find my footing with a new development of hers. For the most part, I am the parent I wanted to be, but there's no question that you have to look at the person in front of you and, in the moment, have all the answers they need. Being human and all, I sometimes find myself ill-equipped.

Of course, we've also the issues of her father to contend with over the years, and it took me a while to find my balance with that. How much should she know? How much should I try to compensate for the lack of other parent? How much leeway do I allow her and how much is too much?

In this moment, I am very happy with who she is, our relationship, and that she still has the options to do anything she wants to do.

Still, I hope that the foundation we've built is strong enough. I hope that these next last few years of mandatory schooling are wonderful for her. I know that we will continue to have our ups and downs, but I hope that there are enough "ups" so that we're on speaking terms more often than not.

More than anything, I hope she knows how much I love her and believe in her. And thank goodness I have 3 more years to try and show her that.

Kids and Musical Theatre

A few of us adults in the cast were talking about how great all the kids are in the musical we're doing. Not just in terms of talent, but in their behavior, the respect they show everyone in the cast, and the manner in which they present themselves. We came to the conclusion that their involvement in musical theatre is an important factor in making them all good kids.

Our youngest cast member is 6 and our oldest cast member is probably around 60. These kids aren't just working with people in their age group; they're working with all age groups. I especially love watching the older kids (as young as 11) taking care of the younger kids; from making sure they're in the right place to cheering them on as they have their moments on stage.

Some of them have already started school. They're getting homework done while still paying attention to rehearsal so they don't miss a cue, an excellent lesson in time management skills.

They need to use their listening skills constantly. They've been directed to react to the other characters (and they do), they have to listen for musical cues, and they have to listen to the stage manager.

They also need to think on their feet. We did a mini-performance last week and none of us really knew how things were going to go until we were there, doing it. The stage was about half the size of the one we're used to and we couldn't do half our blocking, but miraculously, we collectively did and didn't do the same things!

Live theatre is awesome and terrifying for the same reason: when things don't go as planned. Sometimes, wonderful moments that were never found in rehearsals are created with the help of an audience. Sometimes, someone doesn't make their entrance and it's up to anyone on stage at the moment (regardless of age) to keep the magic going. Children involved in musical theatre learn mad problem solving skills in those seconds.

Cast members become a family of their own in this collective experience, and no doubt, there's much to be said about teamwork in a cast. At the same time, each individual knows what they did well and not so well. We may not be required to call a foul on ourselves, but we do acknowledge and apologize for any mistakes we make. We are all subject to one another, and we live up to that most of the time.

There is no more definite a deadline than an opening night. Tickets have been sold, your friends and family are coming, and they don't care if the blocking was just changed the day before. They expect you to shine on that stage. And somehow, you do. Even if there are safety pins sticking you in the ribs, and the hat you're wearing feels like a vice.  You will say your lines, sing your songs, and smile your biggest, brightest smile. And you'll do it all again the next night.

While I can reluctantly admit that musical theatre is not for everyone, I wish more people had more exposure to it to make an educated opinion on whether or not it's for them. I know all of the children involved in this one will look back on this wonderful, crazy journey with fondness. It may take them years to realize just how much they learned and accomplished in just two months.

Wishing my entire musical family a magical opening night!!

Bullies, Part 2

I got an anonymous comment on my Bullies Grow Up post that I've decided to respond to in post form instead:

I do believe we have to address the issues that cause children to be bullies. However, your statement of how the school "completely fouled it up" is judgmental and quite one-sided. The schools are being required to teach more, deal with more problems, fix all the ills of the world in a way that parents are not expected to. All of these expectations are in the face of increasing call by the public for decreased funding for schools, decreased respect for teachers, increased pressure to evaluate a teacher's every breath. I'm sure your school did not only what it could AFFORD to do (considering the fact that this situation was probably one of hundreds being dealt with at that time by a minimum of staff) but also what it felt was legally SAFE to do. In a society in which teachers/school staff are routinely brought to court over a hug given to a grieving child or a pat on the back for a job well done, schools are in a no win situation. I would suggest that you become a counselor in a public school yourself. Then you can become part of the solution rather than merely writing about it. jmo

Now, I normally don't like responding to purely anonymous comment, but since the heart of the comment completely missed the point of my post, I think it's worth responding because it seems I didn't express my point very well.

They took issue with me saying that the school fouled up. Yes, I do believe the school fouled up and I do believe that most schools are not solving the bullying problem in the most effective manner.

Every so often, we collectively come up with an answer, and we become the definition of insanity; doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results.

This school dealt with the issue the same ways most schools deal with the issue. "No tolerance" meant that the girls were to stay away from each other. So what I ended up with was my daughter sobbing to me that the girls were saying, "you can't sit next to us, you can't talk to us!" and basically using the counselor's so-called solution against her.

That's no solution.

The commenter seems to think that schools can't solve the problems effectively.

I firmly disagree because my other daughter attends a school that truly solved the problem.

I got an email from the principal one day with the subject line "Boys making fun of [daughter]."

Oh, boy, I thought. Here we go again.

I opened the email and by the time I was done reading it, I was smiling.

My daughter and her friend had gone to a teacher about these boys picking on her. The principal saw what was going on, and immediately came to assist. My daughter and her friend were commended on speaking up, the boys were both spoken to and given a lunch detention, and by the end of the day, my daughter told me that all was well with everyone concerned. The boys had apologized, the girls had accepted their apologies, and everyone was on friendly terms again. I was slightly concerned that my daughter would face some criticism from her peers about "tattling," but it didn't happen.

And I can tell you, I feel the difference immediately when I walk into either of these schools. The school with the firm policy feels like a prison when you walk in. I immediately feel defensive and want to leave. The school that solved the problem and moved on, I feel respected and welcomed when I walk in.

I do believe that schools, that people who work at these schools, can change lives. I do believe that excellent counselors, principals and teachers are to be cherished, and I do believe they ought to make much better salaries for what they do. And I do what I can to show them how much I appreciate them.

To suggest, as the commenter did, that I should become a counselor is a very bad idea. I'm not cut out to be a counselor, and I know that. I think it takes a very special person to be able to solve these problems delicately. To say that anyone can do it, frankly, undermines the people who do it so very well.

Yes, our schools, our teachers, the parents and the students are all facing some extremely difficult challenges. But to just say that it's too hard and we should accept less would be the greatest failure of all. We have to recognize and acknowledge when things aren't working and we have to make the necessary changes. 

To do anything less means that the bullies of all kinds win. That will not get any of us better results.

Bullies Grow Up

I thanked a PR rep for the opportunity to review a book on bullying, but I declined, seeing as that's not really an issue for either of my girls right now.

The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized it's an issue for me. And many adults I know.

From the drivers that wouldn't dream of going around the block and think it's better to hold up traffic so they can make their turn to the selfish, noisy "bad apples" that seem to work so hard at ruining your day, some people are just not that easy to be around.

I've heard folks lament plenty about how we parents are messing up our kids and the problems they'll have because of it, but I haven't heard that about what I do think is a very real problem, and that's any policy that includes the words "no tolerance."

Like our war on drugs, I don't think we're getting anywhere on this war on bullies.

Suspending them or removing them from the responsibility of learning to get along in a group is not doing any of us any favors.

To be clear, if someone has physically hurt another, there should absolutely be consequences. But we can't lose sight of the fact that we all have to live with each other eventually.

Ten year olds, fourteen year olds, and even twenty year olds don't have all the resources and tools necessary to cope. Our brains do not stop maturing until we're at least 25, and even then, we still have a lot to learn.

We did have a situation that got out of hand once, and after the school completely fouled it up, I went to our favorite after-school program for help. (Just so you know, it wasn't my child that was the bully, but she was the one who felt ostracized after the school counselor's solution was to tell everyone involved to stay away from each other.)

The after-school director put together a session for all the pre-teen females with therapists from our community program.

The girls separated into groups and talked about what they were each going through. From what I was told about the session, you couldn't really tell the Mean Girls from the Victims in these groups. They were all expressing similar needs: to be heard, to be valued, to be part of the group, and also cherished for their individuality.

Prior to the session, they just all expressed it differently. And, of course, not in a very healthy manner.

After the session, my daughter got sincere apologies from all involved. While they didn't all become best friends after it was over, they knew enough about their similarities to at least give a friendly nod and not give each other a hard time after that.

The next school year went much better for all involved.

There was one girl who wasn't involved in all of this. 2 years later, my child reached out to her to try and at least create a "friendly acquaintance" type of relationship, but the girl would have none of it. My daughter let it go, and wasn't angry or upset. Just a little sad that the girl was still holding onto so many terrible emotions. "Oh, well," she said. "I tried."

I think most bullies don't believe that anyone's genuinely on their side. They need to be heard and understood by someone. My hope is that it's by at least one of their parents, but if not, it's up to the other adults in their life to give that to them.

Because those bullies will grow up. And if we don't want them to become criminals, over-aggressive drivers or otherwise not equipped to work and play well with others, we should be teaching them how to get along in our community.