Writing has always been a form of therapy for me since the time I was sixteen years old. If something was weighing on my mind and I wanted to put it into perspective, I would write it down in my journal. The things I thought were earth-shattering back then, I can smile at now.
So, dear reader, if you will indulge me, I will begin my therapy by writing down my chaotic thoughts and perhaps together we can make some sense of them.
My twelve-year old is taking lessons for drums and is hoping to do well in an important audition being held in a couple weeks. He is hoping, praying and almost expecting to do well in spite of the fact that his sticks have not seen air time since his last lesson. There's nothing like setting yourself up for humiliation.
When I mention the word "practice", he acts like I'm speaking a foreign language. So, I guess this is one of those times when a parent has to sit on the sidelines and watch their offspring tank. Experience is a harsh teacher, but sometimes it's the only one to which kids will listen.
My youngest boy found a metal box where he can keep his "money collection". He asked for a combination lock so that he could keep his collection "safe." When I pulled into the driveway last night, my headlights found his box, which contains about a dollar in assorted change, mostly pennies. It apparently had been sitting "safely" in the middle of the driveway all day long.
So, how do I instill in him the proper respect for his money "collection"? A combination lock from the dollar store costs, well, a dollar. I had thought about having him buy a lock with his own money so that he would place more value on it. But he's only "collected" a dollar, which means that if he buys a lock for his box, he will no longer have any money to keep safe.
Perhaps I'll simply screw the box to his dresser so he can't leave it in places that most of us would not consider safe.
My daughter is trying to grow her bangs out. If I don't insist that a barrette or hair band be employed, she'll look like one of those shaggy dogs that you could swear have no eyes. Why don't you ever see those dogs running into trees and fire hydrants?
Well, we have gone through whole packages of barrettes, clips, hair bands, rubber bands, and alligator clips. Every morning we'll put one of these accessories in my little girl's hair and every afternoon, a shaggy dog comes home from school and the accessory is nowhere to be found.
I thought about a hot glue gun, but I'm sure there is some kind of law against that. In my less sane moments, shaving her head bald seems like a good option but then we'd have to start growing those bangs all over again.
Picture day was last week. I wonder who will show up in those pictures when I get them back: my daughter or a shaggy dog?
When you are a parent, there are so many difficult decisions to make on a daily basis. Most of the time, it comes down to: Which is the least of the two evils? Which reminds me of another difficult decission: presidential elections.
Don't even get me started.
You can reach Laura at firstname.lastname@example.org or visit her website www.lauraonlife.com for more columns and info about her books.