Feb 2, 2012 |
My daughter is 17. Practically a Straight-A Student. Senior in high school. Tall, slender, beautiful, natural blond. You hate her already, dontcha?
And for the past 8 months, she’s had her Driver’s Permit. She’s driven side roads, main roads, and freeways… just not in my car. Just not with me.
Her grandparents take her out driving once or twice a week. Her very first behind-the-wheel excursion was taking Grandpa’s truck through the dry river bed. Talk about fun! She’s been hooked on the beauty of trucks ever since.
They tell me she’s a good driver. They tell me she knows all the safety concerns with seatbelts and mirrors and slowing down for emergency vehicles. They tell me she does really, really good. They tell me.
But I’m, well, me. And I’m not a big proponent of inexperienced people driving my car. I guess I was just hoping for the day I would wake up and she’d be a driver. I didn’t think there would be this in-between time. I didn’t think while she’s behind the wheel she’d still be learning how to be behind the wheel.
Now, there’s a reason that years ago my doctor recommended I stick to decaf… yah. I’m not a big winner on the whole “keep it calm” game. But, she is my daughter. And I love her. And someday I’m gonna want her to run to the store for a gallon of milk or ice cream or something… so I figure she should actually be able to drive.
As anxious as I can be at times, my daughter is the complete opposite. She is controlled. Cool. Clear-headed. She would never say the kind of words that accidentally slip out of my mouth when brake lights appear out of nowhere or someone cuts her off. She is so not like me.
But every time she’s asked to be behind the wheel, I wince. It’s not an unreasonable request. But I see potential for disaster. Not of her making, of course. And since it’s my job as her parent to always, always, ALWAYS protect her, the answer is simple: “Not today.”
The reasons are as varied as there are words in the English language: I’m too tired to pay attention. I have a headache. You overslept and we’re in a hurry. I overslept and we’re in a hurry. I’ve had too much coffee this morning and my heart can’t take it.
No. You can not drive my car. Not now. Maybe later.
I’m doing better with the “later” thing. Last week I let her drive almost a mile from school to the Post Office. I had to explain to her that Main Street was out of the question. I’m sure she’s a good driver. But my car can’t take it. If my car is going to fail, I’d rather it be with me behind the wheel so she doesn’t get scarred for life.
I’m only thinking of you, Dot…
But today came the day I’d been promising her for months. I backed the car out of the garage then asked if she wanted to drive to school. Her eyes almost got wide with excitement, and then she contained herself. Sure, she nodded with a smile. A nice, composed, in-control smile. And we traded seats.
Her CD was still playing. Usually I tell her to turn it off so it doesn’t distract her, but she told me it helped her feel better. So I let her listen. And drive.
Out the driveway. Don’t back up so far, you’re practically in the neighbor’s yard. Up to the corner. Now, remember: just because we don’t have a Stop Sign doesn’t mean you can zoom into the turn. Down to the crossroad, up a turn, make a left, past the school. Children! Children! And finally, on to Main Street.
And while I was full of advice, my voice was calm. I never clenched my fists. My feet didn’t reach for an imaginary brake pedal on my side. My heart never missed a beat. She did great! Even when a red truck swerved and decided to suddenly stop, on Main Street, right in front of her.
She. Did. Great.
She was able to carry on a complete conversation, which is more than I can say about myself. [Want me to say “yes” without paying attention? Talk to me while I’m driving.]
We talked about my writing, and the characters from my book series. She was amazingly attentive. She did all the right things to take the focus off her driving and just be in the car. She kept it as real as a regular trip. The music. The chatter. She never rocked out. Never got loud. Never changed lanes without looking. Slowed ahead of time. Never raced the engine. She acted as if she’d been driving for quite a while. She. Was. Confident. If she was in Psychology 101, I’d tell her teacher to give her an “A”.
And when we got to school, I got out to take over and she called out, “Wait!”
Before I could get into the car, she ran over and gave me a hug.”I love you, Momma,” she smiled.
And I knew. She may be growing up. But she’ll still always be My Little Girl.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 1, 2012 |
I just signed on with BlogHer and NaBloPoMo to post every day in the month of February.
Sure. I already post each day. Sometimes more than one post a day. Ahh, yes. But now I’ve made the commitment to do so.
It’s like setting a goal you know you can reach, but when you near the end you wonder. Each month I start strong, then I get sort of lost or busy or … just tired. So coming up with new posts isn’t always as fun and easy as one might think.
February’s going to see some Valentine’s themed posts. Some links to some old posts worth repeating (like this one). And hopefully a few fun recipes.
Oh. And a Super Bowl party. Can’t forget that.
So. Who are you rooting for this year?
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
Feb 1, 2012 |
Reading Time: 3 days
[but admittedly, I started three weeks ago, read one day then didn’t pick it up again until yesterday.]
What I loved best: With each new adventure into Narnia comes new characters and creatures. Puddlegum was a great addition to the Children’s endeavors. (And with my current affinity for frogs, I loved his description which I believe to be part scarecrow, part frog). I also loved that Aslan kept showing the way, even when the characters were lost, or belligerent, or forgetful. He kept His patience, and continued to remind them of their important tasks.
The Lady and her magic are wonderfully displayed in Lewis’ description. As with the other Narnia tales, this story tells of one adventure from start to finish, but the little anecdotes and stories within the story make it a great read.
It portrays, as in real life, how hard it is to sometimes see Good vs. Evil: what you think is delightful turns out to be your downfall (remember Edmund’s desire for turkish delight in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe?). It also has a great redeeming message that it’s never too late to do the Right Thing.
While most of the Narnia tales are somewhat predictable along the journey, this was a great book that had me guessing throughout the entire story of what I could trust by means of characters, settings, and even my own ideas. It’s definitely a great addition to the series.
Jan 31, 2012 |
[Originally featured at Family Values Cinema.]
SINGLE PARENTING IS NOT A DISEASE
Contrary to popular belief, single parenting is not a disease. It’s not an illness overtaking society, or an addiction that must be overcome no matter what. “Hello, my name is Molly Jo, and I’m a Single Parent.”
Yes, it’s a dilemma that can be draining on society. But it’s not always something to be pointed at with pity. Being a single parent doesn’t make me a cancer on society any more than eating lettuce makes you a vegetarian. If you only eat lettuce, even that doesn’t make you a vegetarian. It doesn’t even make you a rabbit. Rabbits eat more than just lettuce. It makes you a lettuce eater.
Then why are single parents almost always only categorized by those two simple words? Why is so much of what I do, that much more scrutinized because I am a single parent?
Not all single parents got that way by, well, misbehaving. And yet, the majority of society points fingers and finds us to be their scapegoats. Seriously?! I didn’t know I had that much power. Especially when Wall Street and Big Government have their own issues.
Parenting, whether together or single or community or foster or… you get the picture… parenting is parenting. You’re either a good parent or a bad parent. Good parents recognize we’re not always good. We make mistakes. Bad parents. Well, they don’t always see that. Or they don’t try. There are plenty of bad two-parent homes but it’s the single parents – in particular, young single moms – that carry the burden of shame for bad parenting.
My mom was a single parent. Now don’t go thinking she was a bad example and I followed in her footsteps. My mom’s singleness came about with my dad’s early death. I have a friend who was lucky enough to foster two young boys. Nobody looked down on her for being a single parent.
So you see? Being a parent, and being single. They’re just definitions. But they don’t define every aspect of who I am or what I do. I like coffee. Cats. Books. Children. Italy. Writing. Cooking. Driving. Disneyland. And so much more. Single Parent doesn’t even begin to scratch the surface.
What do you know about the single parents in your life? Do you know how they became single parents? Not every story is the same. There are different beginnings… and different endings.
Some single parents got that way through the death of a spouse. Some choose to share their home, even if it means doing it alone.
But the being alone part. That’s hard. It’s hard when you could use some help carrying in the groceries and there’s nobody around. It’s hard when you have a water leak and no knowledge how to fix it and no funds to pay someone else. It’s hard when you can’t work the hours you need, because your kid is sick.
It’s hard when you know people want to put you down rather than help you out, or find out what your real needs are instead of assuming you get what you deserve. Forget what single parents are doing to society. What about how society treats the parent?
When my daughter was young, we struggled financially. It wasn’t because I didn’t try, but that’s what some people thought. I was blessed to have a community that helped when I needed it. The neighbor who worked on our car in exchange for a meal. The friend who drove us to get groceries. The boss who took a chance on hiring a young woman with a young child.
But the best moments were when people stopped to check on us, for no reason other than they wanted to. The ones who offered a cup of coffee and said “You’re worth my time.” The ones who didn’t ask “How are you?” then walk away before I could tell them the truth.
Being a single parent doesn’t automatically make me stupid, or make my kid worthless. It doesn’t make us gross or trashy. It just makes life a little more difficult, sometimes.
Single parents are needy. It’s true. But aren’t we all? There are smart, wonderful, single parents all around you. In your family. At your work. In your neighborhood. We all have something to offer each other. It could be a service, a helping hand, or just a friendship that says we’re worthy of being loved just like everyone else.
Trust me. We’re not lepers. You won’t get cooties if you reach out and say hi. You might make a friend. And even get a nice cup of coffee for your efforts.
Also featured on BlogHer.com
February 22, 2012
Jan 30, 2012 |
So, I’ve been sitting here thinking that it’s really not fair to those who have been with me all along, for me to give a free cookbook to someone who is just waiting in the wings to be my 50th an 100th subscribers.
So I’m changing the rules for the Cookbook Giveaway as follows:
Once I reach 50 subscribers to my Blog, I will use Random.org to select a random subscriber who will receive a free copy of the cookbook as soon as it’s published.
Once I reach 100 “likes” on my Facebook page, I will use Random.org to select a random follower who will receive a free copy of the cookbook as soon as it’s published.
There will only be one entry per person per prize, and only two prizes total (one for the Blog subscribers, one for the Facebook followers).
So spread the word via facebook, your blog, twitter, word of mouth… whatever it takes.
To “like” me on Facebook, click here.
To subscribe to my Blog, go to the right side of this post (if you’re reading this by email, click the title link to be taken to the actual blog) and enter your email address in the box where it reads “Subscribe By Email”.
These are two separate giveaways. There is no skill involved in winning. No monetary or substitution of prizes is allowed. The winners will be chosen completely at random through Random.Org once the required number of readers/followers has been reached.
And Frankly, My Dear… that’s all she wrote!
I’m doing better with the “later” thing. Last week I let her drive almost a mile from school to the Post Office. I had to explain to her that Main Street was out of the question. I’m sure she’s a good driver. But my car can’t take it. If my car is going to fail, I’d rather it be with me behind the wheel so she doesn’t get scarred for life.
