Talk To Your Kids About Lockdown Drills.

If you haven't had this conversation before?

Have it now.

It's impossible to avoid it.

Many of us in the south have started school already.

My daughter had her first fire drill today.

My first question after she told me that was ...

Did you have a lockdown drill yet?

She said no.

But it's coming.

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How Four Words Can Hurt

Four words.

You're surely questioning what they could be.

Four words?

I HATE YOU?

Nope. Only three.

You suck?

Two.

I ... wha-? ... okay, give up yet?

I don't see color.

I don't see color.

People say this constantly.

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When She Grows Up.

Today I went on a field trip with my daughter's school. All the fourth grade classes headed out to Old Salem, in North Carolina. It's kind of like Colonial Williamsburg-ish.

It was a great trip. Exhausting. I walked over 11,000 steps. And then some.

My feet hurt more than when I walked around Disney a week ago. And that's saying something. Although I may have walked more steps at Disney. Which is odd. But I digress ...

And so, at Old Salem we walked around and absorbed history.

We learned a lot, or we glazed over a bit. Admittedly, I was a lucky chaperone. I only had my child and one other child. Which was fantastic. We got to enjoy more. They took loads of pictures on their tablets (yes, electronics, I know - it's crazy!) and zoomed through the museum.

We walked around Main Street and through stores and such cute places, and then all the way back to eat lunch. And then all the way back again to make it to the bakery so I could buy them oatmeal raisin cookies and pumpkin muffins.

And all of it was very cool to see. And quite beautiful, honestly.

I took some pictures and captured the colors of fall that seemed to have settled in a bit in that area of the state. We're not getting much here - it's still high 70s and low 80s, which is a bit ridiculous for November, if you ask me.

Anyway, one of the best parts of the whole day?

Stopping to see Salem College.

Stopping to absorb a piece of history.

Taking these two girls onto the campus, and into the building that is the main hall, and showing them what a college campus looks like.

My daughter's friend really wanted to see it. And my daughter was in a bit of awe when we were inside. It was very cool to watch. And so fun to consider the future.

And then I thought to myself, my goodness, the future. What WILL the future hold?

Will my child go to college? She said she wants to be a vet and go to NC State. So it's certainly in the cards. It's possible. And her friend said she wants to be a pediatrician. So they're both interested in the medical field. And it made me think of so much more - watching these two 9-year-old girls discuss their futures.

And walk through the gardens of a college campus with some fear, some delight, some intimidation, and some laughter.

As you can see ... I captured a few moments that I'm sharing here. And I have blurred out my daughter's friend's face out of respect for her privacy - I don't know her parents so I won't share her publicly.

And so - I thought a lot about the future. And what it holds. And it's no surprise that this has been on my mind a lot lately. Anyone who is anyone living in the United States - heck - or abroad somewhere - has had the future in mind.

Next week Election Day will come and go. And we will learn what the future holds for our country. And more especially? For our children. Our daughters. Yes. I stress that because I am mom to a daughter, but goodness, if ever there was an election that held consequences for the future of our girls it's this one.

And I hope you will keep that in mind when you vote. That you'll keep in mind that your friend who is a blogger has a daughter and her future and the future of her adorable friend is dependent upon you and your choice. On who you cast your ballot for this Tuesday.

I wasn't necessarily planning on heading in this direction with this post, but you know what? I did. I went there. It's time. No time like the present and all that.

Keep our girls in mind when you vote.

It's critical.

And hopefully when my daughter chooses her college - if NC State is or isn't the choice - so be it! - you'll be here, chatting with me, saying, remember how worried we were about the future? Gah! How lucky we were/are/will always be.

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Let's Talk About Privilege.

I'm quite obviously a white woman.

White women have a privilege that women of color do not.

Let's face it. We have many. Not just one. Many.

The news every single day shows us just how many.

But for this post my point is going to focus on postpartum and pregnancy mental health.

And yes, I'm back to talking about the Warrior Mom Conference.

Again.

I know.

I can't help it.

It's THAT important.

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Advocate2Vaccinate: World Immunization Week

Today marks the last day of World Immunization Week. And as part of that, we're wrapping up Advocate2Vaccinate with Shot@Life.

I had the opportunity to attend the Shot@Life Champions Summit in March of 2014. It was a life-changing experience. Besides all of the information I learned, which was a LOT, I also stormed the Hill with friends to advocate for what was important to us and so many. Yes, Capital Hill. Stay with me and I'll show you some pictures from the trip.

But more importantly let's talk vaccinations.

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The Top Ten Reasons I Hate Doing Homework as a Mom

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Navigate The Blogosphere: NC Blogger Network

Are you a blogger in North Carolina?

I'm not talking about my area, specifically, but anywhere in NC - is that you?

Then you're going to want to know about the newly launched North Carolina Blogger Network.

The network is the brainchild of my friends and colleagues, Allison Barrett Carter of Go Dansker Mom and Nikol Murphy of Mom Complicated, both incredibly talented women who are taking this idea and RUNNING with it.

I'm fortunate enough to be a member of their leadership team, and I'm admin of the network's members-only Facebook group and Instagram account. (Forgive me there, I've fallen behind a bit as Instagram doesn't let people log in and out of accounts very easily! *shakes fist in the air*)

Now, you're probably asking - why should you decide to be a member?

Well, reader, I'm glad you asked!

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I'm sorry. #ForMiriam

An open letter to Miriam Carey. #forMiriam

Miriam,

Oh, how I wish I knew what you were experiencing. I wish I knew who failed you.

I feel like it might have been me.

No matter how hard I advocate. How hard I push. I see women like you whose lives end too soon. And it triggers me. It brings me back to the realization that it's not enough. It's never enough.

What were you going through?

Was it actually a postpartum mood disorder? Were you severely anxious? Did you realize what you were doing? Did you know your baby was in the car with you? Did you mean to risk your life? And your child's?

Where was your mind taking you?

We know it was your mind that led you to those gates. Those barricades. Your mind had you put that car into drive and go.

How far did you travel to get to where you were going?

What were you thinking along the way?

Were you thinking at all?

So many women. So many mommas. Their lives end too soon.

They appear okay. Seem to be getting help.

From people like me. I'm a therapist. I meed to be working. I need to be out there supporting women like you. I am not all the way out there yet, but I do my share as best I can.

I volunteer for organizations to support moms in need. Like Postpartum Education and Support, Moms Supporting Moms - a local organization that lets me show I'm there and flex my supportive muscles via email and phone. I write posts about postpartum mental health, posts about women like you, and I try to clarify. Try to explain that not every woman experiencing postpartum depression and/or anxiety wants to harm their child(ren).

I support moms at every point of motherhood in communities like Mama's Comfort Camp, created by Yael Saar to remind women everywhere that they are not ever alone.

I spread the word about communities like #PPDChat, created by Lauren Hale of My Postpartum Voice.

I talk about Postpartum International. I remind people that help is out there. I encourage people to get help, for themselves, their friends and loved ones.

I write posts about all of the amazing bloggers out there who are available to support, love and remind you you're not alone. These women who have been places that were similar to where you were and come back from the brink of it.

And still, it's not enough.

This is not about me. This should not be about me.

It's about you. And those like you.

But I want to shout anyway. I want to be HEARD. By those who failed you. Those who have failed so many others. I want to say COME ON, ALREADY!!!

How many women have to suffer before we figure this out? How many women have to leave their children motherless? Leave their families without a daughter, a sister, a wife? How many?

We don't know. We can't know.

And honestly, I have no idea if any of this even applies to you. Perhaps I'm being too stereotypical and jumping on the bandwagon that says you must have had some sort of postpartum mood disorder to do what you did. Maybe the small words from your mom or your boyfriend or your former boss or whomever said them led me and many down this path we shouldn't be taking, but I'm going to stand on the path, lace up my sneakers and RUN LIKE HELL. Shouting the whole way through.

Let's help these women. These moms. They need us. They need the support and love and people to trust. When they go for psychiatric care, therapy, help - we need to be there. Clinicians and physicians, OB-gyns, pediatricians, psychiatrists, I don't care who you are - what professional label you wear. If you know that a woman has just had a baby it's your responsibility to ask if she is okay. It's your JOB, your oath, your whatever the hell you want to call it - but do NOT let these women slip through the cracks. Please. I appeal to you, those out there, and beg of you - check in with your patients. Your clients. Make sure they are okay. And if they're not? Get them the help they need. If you are not capable of doing it, find them someone who can. Please. I implore you.

Please.

Do it.

Do it for them. For yourself. For the children. The loved ones.

Do it for Miriam.

And Miriam ... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry that your life had to end the way it did. There are so many if only-s. If only you hadn't turned the car around. Led the police to take chase. If only you hadn't driven there to begin with. If only.

If only you knew there was someone out there like me. Waiting to open my arms to you and hug you. So many someones who know what you were going through. And who got through to the other side.

If only.

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When did you graduate high school?

And what were you listening to back then?

I have to thank The Dose Girls this morning. They alerted me to the Monday Listicles topic that has me flashing back to my senior year of high school, the senior prom, senior trip ... good LORDY so many flashbacks there.

And the top ten songs from that timeframe. Top ten songs I remember from senior year. EEK.

I graduated high school in 1990, my friends. That was QUITE some time ago.

And yet ... some memories last forever, don't they?

I can picture myself, me, my friends, up at the crack of dawn, boarding buses for our senior trip to Virginia Beach. Saying goodbye to our parents as we went off on our "own" for one of the first times ever. Sort of. One song that I won't forget from that weekend? Maybe it was a popular roller coaster song (who am I kidding, it totally WAS):



Oh my G-d! I just searched for some songs from 1990 and found a list of the Top 100. And? HOLD ON IS NUMBER ONE!!! Bwahahaha. That's crazy. Seriously. And now it's in my head.

Forever.

You're welcome.

OMG. I just found another song I SO remember. What did we even know about this crap at that age? Really. And yet ... (I remember every word!) And look at the hair! Ahhh!! The hair!!!



I think we had a routine for this one in my slimnastics class.

Yes. I did just say slimnastics.



Another one I really know way too many words of. Even now. Oh-so-many years later.



You have to know this one. It's the kind of song everyone dances to and sings when it comes on. No matter when or where you are.



And a classic:



And yet another:



And no 90s list would be complete without these guys ... who I can't watch without giggling. Look at the hair. The outfits. Oy.



This video kind of freaks me out a little bit until the singing starts. And I have to admit, I knew their music better when I was a college freshman. Obviously my tastes had - uhm - grown.



I need one more. I can't decide. Can you pick for me? Think back to 1990. What would your favorite song have been? And all you youngins - go away.

I'm kidding [no, really, go away]. Really. Just kidding.

Hope you enjoyed this trip down my memory lane.

Catch ya on the flipside!

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Bro ken.

Broken.

It's such a tricky word.

Not working.

Something is wrong.

Usually when something is broken it is easy to tell by looking at it what is wrong.

Not always, mind you, but often.

Mama Kat's prompt today includes this question. She answered it in a way I could have. Her garbage disposal. Mine, too! (I hate mine, but I need my 2-part sink. For real.)

But tonight, as I get my daughter into the shower and feel a sigh of relief exit my body, I think of other things.

What's broken?

She came home today with another "yellow," and if you don't know what that means that's okay. I didn't really know, either. Not at first.

Initially I took it hard. But then I let it go. She brought them home, I walked her through it. My husband and I discussed what was happening, why she was moving from green (which is good) to yellow (which is not as good, not awful, but not green). She explained. Talking. Playing. Simple things a five-year-old does.

The entire first month she brought home green beehives. She set us up. Our expectations rose. We swelled with pride. Our little girl knew how to behave in kindergarten. Hooray! My sigh of relief could be heard across the state.

Then a yellow. Disappointment set in, but it was still new. Or maybe less new? Less exciting? Less motivating? Less to enjoy and focus on? Ah, whatever. What's a yellow really? No big deal.

And then again. Okay. I can handle this. But I wish I knew what was happening. The teacher explained that sometimes they get them at the end of the day, with no time to get back to green. Ah, so that must be it, I thought. She's acting up as the day goes on. We talked it over. Again. And again. Please try, we said. Please try to behave. Listen to your teachers. Do your work. Please try.

And she said she would. She will. She did.

And then it happened again. But not once, not twice, a third time? What? What was happening here? Why is my child acting out? Is she bored? Antsy? Problematic? Talking is one thing, but I can't tell yet whether that is why she is ending up on yellow. Could that be it? She takes after me, I suppose. I talk too much, too. Is it too soon for my five-year-old to start her own blog?

Maybe I'm taking it personally. I'm definitely overreacting. I'm sad. I shed tears. She makes ME feel better. That's backwards. Isn't it? Am *I* broken?

And then I think too hard. Where did we go wrong? What did we do? What didn't we do?

My husband and I look at each other across the dinner table, questions in our eyes.

Tonight she counted by twos for him. Then fives. Who is this kid, anyway?

We're screwed, I mouthed to him. He laughed. So did I. I had to. What else am I supposed to do? Laugh or cry? Both? Both.

What's broken? ... I ask myself. We ask each other.

We (she and I) watched a clip together of this weekend's Comedy Central - Night of Too Many Stars for Autism. She sat on my lap, quietly, watching. 'That's Katy Perry," she whispered. Tears streamed down as I explained why the little girl was screaming, yelling. What was wrong.

I felt so blessed.

I lay beside her tonight. Watched her face light up as our cat Angel climbed up on her belly and went right up to her and practically kissed her good night. Tears slid down my cheeks in the dark. I wiped them away silently. I couldn't let her see me cry three times in one day. Three times. What was wrong with me, anyway?

Broken. It's an interesting word, isn't it?

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Dream a little dream

Today's optional prompt for Stream of Consciousness Sunday is dreams.

Today we went to an orientation for Kindergarten for the little miss. A sort of seminar type set-up in the library of what will be her school. It was hectic. Hot. Chaotic.

Slightly disorganized. But enjoyable, kind of sort of.

We had ice cream after the talk part, so that was nice.

And then I realized that - wow - in a few weeks I'll be the mom of a kindergartener. Is that a word? I suppose it is. It looks funny, but it is a word.

Will she be nervous? Will she be motivated? Will she love it? Will she even remember it when she's older? Do any of us actually remember K?

I found my best friend that year of school. I lost her and then found her again in junior high school. We're still best friends today.

Do I wish for that for my daughter? Do I hope she finds that now and makes that lifelong connection that carries her through each school, through college? Her future college roommate? The one she tosses her cap into the air and reaches over, smiling, hair flying behind her, shouts of "We did it!" in unison. One of the many who will stand beside her on her wedding day?

I dream that she finds that connection somehow. Whether it be this year or next. Or many down the line.

But right now I just dream that she listens to me for a change and allows me a chance to drop the worries that she is going to go off to Kindergarten and be the child in class who doesn't stop talking, has their parents called in during the first few weeks and cannot turn off the sass.

And at this point I have no idea how long I've been typing - as my dogs wanted in - my child wanted food and she is refusing to stop a new and annoying habit of echoing her own words. So I suppose my first dream is that she will STOP that behavior and NOT carry it to K with her. So yeah, there's that.

And then, after that dream comes true, then I'm sure that I'll continue to dream about seeing her like this, just a much more grown-up version.

Perhaps for the time being it's easier on me to just think about the simpler stuff. The stuff that gets under my skin and makes me dream hard and fast with hopes for tomorrow, instead of way down the line. I can tolerate those dreams. They're way less scary for a mom like me.

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Mission Possible - Do you think?

As someone who grew up in the New York City school system, what the Success Academy Charter Schools are doing in New York amazes me. And as someone with family members who teach and have worked in NYC public schools for years, I know that they, too, would be amazed at the work done in these schools, the support given those attending AND teaching there. 

Lastly, as someone who worked as a social worker with children who attended public schools in New York I find myself wishing that "my kids" had been given a chance to attend this kind of school.

As is indicated in the summary below, one of the important aspects of the Success Academies is the focus on the adults. So much work is done with the teachers. They are forever learning. Learning how to work with and address their students. Investing in the adults as this program does does so much for the children. The relationships set between educators involved in the program - with one another and their students - it's incomparable to anything I've heard of before. It's pretty amazing. 

Mission Possible offers practical classroom tested ideas for dramatically improving teaching and learning. Through detailed descriptions of how to keep students challenged and engaged, how to ensure that the adults are constantly learning, and how to use the Success Academies' THINK literacy program, the authors describe what can be accomplished when the schools shift their focus to improving the adults' performance. 

The first Success Academy Charter School was set up in the middle of Harlem. Yes. Harlem. I know what people think when they think of Harlem. I interned in Spanish Harlem for an entire year. I loved it. But people reacted in one way when they heard Harlem, and it wasn't a favorable one. But my experience was wonderful. Many of my kids were fantastic. But they struggled. They struggled a lot. One of the biggest issues I had to address with them was school behavior. Lack of focus. Acting out. Inability to learn. How is it possible that so many children are labeled as unable to learn? So sad. So frustrating.

This didn't change much when I started working in the Flatbush area of Brooklyn. I had a similar client base of minority children attending NYC public schools. One of my teenagers could not read. Barely a word. Granted, she was in a special education class, but for me, as her social worker - who should have been working to address her history of abuse and family issues - to be working with her on reading? It just shouldn't have been. So many teenagers who I found myself reading TO. I did it because I knew that it would empower her. It wasn't the most important aspect of my job, but it was critical to establishing a relationship with her. To help her to open up and trust me.

Imagine how things would be for our kids today if they trusted their teachers to teach them as they do in  the Success Academy schools? So different. I can imagine it. I can hope for it. And I can also hope that my own daughter winds up with educators throughout her school years that are as strong and powerful as these.

I know school is not always the answer. I know that teaching starts at home. I know this and I get this. But once your children - OUR children - are of school-age, well, there is more to raising them than what they get from us. Don't you think?

In my opinion, teachers are the "other half" to parents in the process of raising children in today's world. Our children's teachers spend as much (if not more!) time with our kids than we do during a given day. If we cannot trust and rely on them to pull their weight and care for our kids, what are we to do? And if we CAN? If we can feel that these individuals are doing so much for our children, more than many give them credit for or understand? If we believe all of that then why don't we treat them with the respect and recognition they deserve? I won't even touch upon the salaries. (I'll save that for those who truly know them.)

Granted, there are teachers who skate by. Teachers who don't work to their fullest abilities, and don't push their students or teach their students. And they fail our children. I don't include them in those who deserve respect and recognition. Honestly, I would say that they probably need a program like this one more than some of the students do.

So either way perhaps we fail many of our teachers. When they do well we don't thank them enough. When they do poorly, do we work with them at all? Can we? Should we? Who is this we that I'm speaking of? Honestly, I don't know. I suppose it'd be easy to say that programs like these would be the solution needed across the board, but who am I to say that?

Mission Possible is a book written by Eva Mosklowitz and Arin Lavinia. Eva is the Founder and CEO of Success Academy Charter Schools. Arin designed and developed THINK Literacy, a common sense approach to balanced literacy.

To find out more about Eva and her mission, check out her Facebook page or look for her on Twitter.  If you're interested in speaking with her directly about her story, her goals and her book, please feel free to shoot her a tweet directly with your question or thoughts. I'm planning on doing the same.

To learn more about this, the Mission Possible that is happening for today's kids, check out the book. You can purchase your own copy or you can enter to win the one I have to give away.

Just enter below by leaving me a comment with the name of your favorite teacher from childhood. What grade were you in? And if you'd like an extra entry tweet about this giveaway and I'm happy to credit you with one if you comment with the URL. 

* I was compensated for writing this post and provided a copy of the book to give away to one of my readers. All expressed opinions are completely my own. 

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Five Minutes: My stream of consciousness

Hello, all. Happy Sunday. I've been hiding this week. Not intentionally, just haven't felt like writing or posting much. Lots on the mind, I guess. You know how it is. Tis the season and all that jazz.

We had a pretty busy weekend. Or have had one so far.

On Friday I went to an all day class. It was really interesting. I picked the topic for various reasons. One, it was really more affordable than many other courses I have taken. Two, I'm way overdue for a course or two or - ehem - more! I'm due 20 seminar credits by my renewal date in June, so I needed these 6. Anyway. the topic was food addictions, overeating and mood swings. As someone who has always had issues with my relationship with food, I thought this an excellent topic to sit in on and learn, not just for future clients (I do hope to work with women in the future - I think a woman having a female therapist can be a benefit, but I know many women who think and prefer otherwise, and that is what works for them - I'm cool with that, too!), but for me - myself - ya know?

I've recently started tracking my food and intake and workouts on LosinIt. An app I've had for "weigh ins" on my iPad, but just downloaded on my phone, and I like it. But I digress ...

Anyway, yesterday we went to see Disney on Ice, and last night we got our Christmas tree (what are your feelings on turning Christmas into Xmas? I am often curious as I've heard varying thought processes ... but that would be a whole other post!) and today we decorated the tree and the house. It's been fun, and I think that we could skip over tomorrow being Monday and just have more family time - well, if we could, I'd be psyched and enjoy it. Sometimes a day *off* - even if it's for school, well, it's just what a girl like me needs. Just what a MOM like me needs. To have a day where I feel like a grown up and don't have to make extra meals, wipe any bottoms or noses besides my own, and just BE.

Happy end of the weekend to all! My five minutes is up!

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