Which way to turn?

When I first became a mom, I never thought of it as a difficult task.

I was 10 when my brother was born. I was old enough to help feed him and by 11 I could cloth diaper a baby like nobody's business. I was not required to do these things, but I did like to help. I was also old enough to remember the steps my parents took when my baby brother was sick.

A few years after he was born I began to babysit. Not only my brother, my other children in the neighborhood. After high school, I spent 2 summers working in day care. After college, I spent many more years working in day care full time.

These years of experience taught me how to care for children. Day care cannot prepare you for those middle of the night feedings, but I felt well prepared to handle the rest.

I was not one to call the doctor for every sniffle or fever. I may have called for advice, but I would not press for my child to be seen unless they still were not better after 2 days of over the counter medications. I panicked when my daughter had her first asthma attack, but having watched my brother go through similar experiences, I still knew what to do. Having my mom with me that day didn't hurt either.

My children are now older, and I still am not one to fuss over every little thing. I do not jump and run when they fall. I let them climb every slide at the playground, as well as the surrounding trees. I know what to do at home when my daughter has asthma issues. I also know when to call the doctor for her asthma.


I am not one to worry, but this is beginning to change.


For quite a few days, my son, who is 6, has been complaining of a belly ache. Mostly in the mornings before school. I have talked to him many times asking if something is going on at school. He can tell me and I won't be mad. I can't fix it if I don't know. His only reply is his belly hurts.

Since he has no other symptoms and is usually fine by the end of the day, unless I mention his tender belly, I send him to school. The papers he brings home are full of check marks and stars. He always tells me who he played with and sometimes, if I'm lucky, what he learned in class.

I thought about emailing his teacher or sending a note asking for a conference. My brother pulled this stunt on my mom more times than I can count. I don't want my child to not want to go to school.

The husband was out of town and perhaps that was related. I decided to keep an eye on my boy to see if his belly ache continues. But now he has another symptom to add to the list. His head.

When sitting in the back of the class, his head hurt when he touched it. I asked where. Behind his ear. Did he bump it? Did he fall? No, he answered.

Perhaps he needs glasses. I know that's inevitable. But why would his head hurt when he touched it?

I am at a loss. I don't know which way to turn. Do I talk with his teacher? Perhaps something in class is causing him grief. Do I call the doctor and hope they don't brush me away because of a silly belly ache?

Nebby pickers

My midgets were supposed to be cleaning up their mess in the living. What was actually happening was them asking a thousand and one questions about a truck parked across the street.

Our neighbor's ex (I think) has a truck. Perhaps it was him. Mr. Shortman across the street has a too big truck. Perhaps he was, yet again, trying to get it into his driveway in one attempt.

At first I tried to ignore the questions, but being nebby myself, their questions got the better of me. I finally looked out the window. A white truck was parked across the street. I finally asked question one thousand and two - where was the driver?

The driver was on our side of the street with his passenger looking though people's trash. Of course! Why didn't we think of trash pickers in the first place?!

By the looks of what was in the bed of that truck, I assumed they were looking for scrap metal and such that they could turn around and make some money from. But then I took a closer look.





I don't know about you, but I see a metal headboard, a couch, perhaps a dresser, and I do believe that's a washer and dryer set sticking out of the back. Upon further inspection, I noticed the washer, dryer, and couch were all bungeed to the truck. Because bungee cords are going to keep all that heavy stuff in place as they drive up the hill.

I'm so glad I was in my house at the time and not in the car behind them!

Scrubbing desks

I have a secret.

One that I keep to myself
when away from immediate family.

I am not ashamed. In fact, I am quite proud.

I keep my secret to myself because of how it makes others feel.


My daughter is smart. Very smart. I am not saying this just because she is my daughter. I am not saying this so I can write a "my kid is better than yours" post. That's how she is.

She has always excelled in school. Homework has always been a breeze. A few teachers have told me she does things above her grade level.


I realize my daughter is different when I talk about these things to friends. Their child may struggle with certain subjects. Homework may take hours. I don't meant to compare our children. I don't mean to make them feel disappointed. But that is what happens.

Their child may get in trouble for not doing their work. My child gets in trouble for finishing her work too fast and drawing on her desk because she is bored.

I am incredibly proud of my daughter. I will continue to challenge her and push her to her full potential. I will try to work with her teacher so we can avoid future punishments.

But sometimes guilt makes me keep my proud secret to myself.