A Graveyard Surprise

Remember this? The trip last summer to the family cemetery which has been utterly neglected for who knows how long?

That cemetery and its condition has weighed heavily on my mind since then. So in recent weeks, I took it upon myself to do something about it. I recruited some volunteers, and yesterday we headed back out to the cemetery for a full day's work.

This is what we had to work with.

Yes, inside that fence, there really is a cemetery... somewhere.

Several hours later, with a lot of equipment and hard work, my dad, brother, cousin and I turned THAT into THIS:

(The first picture was taken from the top of the cemetery looking down, and this picture was taken from the bottom of the cemetery looking up, if you're wondering about the vast change in background.)

It was discouraging to find that several of the stones have been broken and knocked down. By cows, we're guessing, as cow patties were found scattered throughout the cemetery. Their pasture is all around the cemetery and we can only assume that someone has left the cemetery gate open for them...

Fortunately, one cousin married an undertaker, who formerly worked in a cemetery, and she's hopeful that he will know how to repair the stones, and also get us some new markers at cost for the graves that lie unmarked in this cemetery.

My great grandmother drew us a cemetery map before she died, and it's a good thing she did, for there are several unmarked graves and after she died, there would have been nobody left who remembered who they were or where they were buried. Now we have the record and I feel burdened to provide those individuals with some sort of marker as a remembrance.

So, we've got some work ahead of us yet, but it is such a relief to have the cemetery cleaned off, to be able to actually see the graves and walk through the cemetery, and we're working on a plan to make sure it stays cleaned off this time. I am really looking forward to taking my grandmother back to the cemetery later this summer to see it, and hopefully erase from her memory the desecration she saw last summer... She has no idea we went out and did this, so it will be a really fun surprise. :)

A Memorable Memorial Day

Way out in the middle of nowhere, on the top of a steep mountain up which no vehicle can drive, lies a cemetery.

And in that cemetery is the grave of my grandmother.

I was 15 years old the first time I ever visited this cemetery. My great-grandfather died and he too was buried here. They used a crane to hoist the coffin up the mountain-side, and we all hiked up. The place had the charm of a bygone era... with its smattering of old graves, many of which were marked with nothing but a rock with no way to know now who was laid to rest in that place.

We've been out there two or three times since then, and each time we had an incredibly difficult time finding the spot. I got smart the last time we went, and drew a map, marking clearly each turn with its landmarks.

So out we went, my brother and sister and I, along with Little Girl and Baby Boy. I drove the lead car and my brother followed, and confidently we took turn after turn using the map I drew several years ago on our last visit. Everything was going well when we reached a fork in the road. We were waiting for a particular "street sign" which was put up when 911 was put into the county and everyone had to be assigned a "street address." The sign itself cracked us up as the road name was "Left Fork Johnson's Fork Little Ann Creek Road." Yes, this was all on one of those green street signs.

But here was a fork, and we hadn't yet reached that sign. We hesitated. "Left," my sister said. "I'm sure we go left." I turned left skeptically but we both breathed a sigh of relief as the first house came into sight around the bend. "That house looks familiar!" we both exclaimed in relief.

But I still wanted to see the map and make sure we were on the right track and try to figure out how this turn had come about that we weren't expecting. So I pulled into the driveway and my brother pulled in next to me. We rolled down our windows.

"We're almost there," I told him. "I know we're close, we just aren't positive which way to go because that fork isn't marked on my map."

"I know we're going the right way," my sister kept saying. "I KNOW we are. She won't trust me."

Meanwhile my brother is exclaiming, "We're in somebody's DRIVEWAY! We're at somebody's HOUSE!" I wasn't terribly concerned about that...

So we kept driving. Long story short, we drove way out that road, then came back and tried the other fork, and then came back to try the first fork again, figuring we must not have gone far enough.

Just as we approached that same driveway that had initially upset my brother so much, my sister says, "WAIT! Isn't that the barn that says HOWDY on it!?"

Sure enough, the final landmark, the HOWDY barn, was right there, with the letters nearly worn away which is why we'd not noticed it before. No wonder that house looked so familiar to us both, and nothing farther on did. THAT was the place!! The street sign we were looking for must have been pulled down.

I quickly pulled right back into that same driveway and we were laughing so hard, wondering what on earth my brother must be thinking to see us turn right back into that same spot.

We got out, laughing -- in the pouring rain, mind you, not the best weather for a cemetery visit on top of a mountain, but we couldn't help that -- and explained to him that this was indeed the place. And then we began the climb.

After crawling under the tree that blocked the path, I turned around and took this shot. I think you can make out our cars parked at the bottom of the hill, which gives you some idea of how ridiculously steep this climb was. And we weren't quite halfway there yet. :)

At last we reached the cemetery. The kids had a wonderful time exploring. They planted flowers at our grandmother's grave and picked daisies from the surrounding woods to lay on other graves.

Their friends were having picnics and pool parties and parades. But in our family, Memorial Day has always been a day to visit the cemeteries and decorate all of the family graves.

Family traditions handed down from previous generations are what memories are made of. I think our kids had a better day than their friends. What do you think?

Thoughts on Friendships

Back in December, I read an interesting post on the issue of "best friends." I intended to write a post on my thoughts at that time, but then I sold a house, bought a house, moved, and with all the chaos, this particular post went unwritten.

Last night, I read another interesting post on the subject of friendship, and my thoughts on the matter were aroused again.

When my sister and I were young, everybody was her best friend. I mean, everybody. "But Mom, I HAVE to go to Mary's party, she's my best friend!" Never mind that the day before, she HAD to call Kelli, because she was her best friend, and the day before that, of course she needed to buy Sonya a birthday present, she WAS her best friend, after all!

Throughout life, I always had ONE best friend. And a twin cousin who was truly my best friend throughout all of childhood, but in addition to her, ONE best friend at school. It changed in time... there was Kim for a few years until she changed schools, and then it was Amber. When she left the school, it became Rachel, and when we parted ways it became Robyn. But at each stage in life, there was just ONE best friend. So I never understood this issue my sister had with calling every friend her best friend.

But now, things have changed. You know all the surveys that come around -- it used to be by email, now they are proliferating on social networking sites such as Myspace and Facebook. I always hesitate when I come to questions such as, "Who is your best friend?"

It's not that I don't have a best friend; it's that I have many, and they all serve different functions in my life. If a problem arises, I know who to call if I just want a listening ear, and who to call if I want practical advice. I know who to call if I make an exciting Laura-find, and who to call if I want to go out and do something fun. I know who to call if I want to share a funny kid story, and who to call if I simply want to chatter endlessly about nothing. There is overlap, of course, but you get different reactions from different people and I can't imagine not having any of them as my "best friend" or the void their absence would leave in my life.

Maria concludes her post with the opinion that after a certain age, you don't NEED a "best friend" and thus the line between best friend and good friends becomes more blurred... but what is that age, and why? (And why has my sister been that way from birth?)

And Jennifer's post on how friendships ebb and flow is particularly interesting because I was thinking just a few days ago on this very issue, mainly because of facebook and the renewed relationships it brings about. On facebook, I have the opportunity to become reacquainted with some of those best friends from years past, where the relationship ebbed simply because of a change in circumstances. Why is it that some of those old friends I picked up with like no time had passed whatsoever, and others I feel such a distance with, and non-interest in?

Is it that with all the years apart, we've all changed (obviously) and some of them have changed in similar ways to me and we're therefore still very much alike, or not so much alike but whatever attracted us to each other in those days still exists, and others have changed very differently, and thus the disconnect and lack of interest in renewing relationships with those people?

Jennifer writes that "it is a mystery," and I must agree. It really is no different from new relationships... why is it that I can join a group of people and instantly feel a connection with one or two of them and not the others? I guess the bigger mystery here though is that the connection was once present and now it isn't.

I suppose in the end, it doesn't really matter. But it's something to wonder about...

Thoughts on "Taking a Bloggy Break"

I spend a lot of time on the computer. I won't deny that. Sometimes it's for work, but much of the time it's for enjoyment. The majority of my computer time is spent doing one of two things: learning new things, or connecting with people.

Unless someone is a bigtime gamer, I think one or both of those two things is what most people do on the computer, isn't it? Chatting, email, blogs, facebook, myspace, twitter -- it's all about connecting with other people. Google -- hello, wonderful tool to find out just about anything you could ever want to know, as well as many things you don't!

Now personally I think that learning new things and connecting with other people are both very good things, so I don't have even an ounce of guilt over the amount of time that I spend on the computer.

But many others do. I've tried for quite some time now to understand just what the issue is, but I don't get it.

So often, on blogs that I follow, I'll read about someone "taking a blog break" for a week or a month or an indefinite period of time, to rethink their priorities or to live life instead of writing about it, etc. They never come right out and say it but the implication always seems there to be that if you spend a lot of time on the computer, you aren't living life. That to fully experience life as it should be, one must not spend very much time on the computer at all, or even must fully break from it for long stretches of time.

What I question primarily is why these people feel the need to share with everyone else that they're taking this bloggy break... (or twitter break... or technology break... or what have you). I know a couple of bloggers that I used to follow -- and just recently stopped following for this very reason -- who do this on a regular basis. They're always having to regroup, to break away from all technology for a week, or from the blog for a week, etc. And it's always this long introspective post explaining to the world why they feel the need to do this.

And those posts always leave me feeling annoyed, quite frankly. To do it once, no big deal. But over and over? What is the purpose? Why the need to share with everyone that you're doing this, and why? If you really want to live life, why not just live it and not worry about your blog or your twitter or your facebook or whatever it is? Why a specified amount of time that you're taking a break and then back to the same old thing? What is the point?

I could understand if someone felt they were really spending too much computer time and needed to back off a bit, saying to themselves, "Okay, I'm limiting myself to X amount of time per day on the computer." But is there really a need to share this decision with the world? (Unless one is looking for accountability, but we don't know if they only spent that amount of time or not so it really seems as if a real life person would make a better accountability partner here...) But that isn't even what I keep seeing. What I keep seeing is, I'm doing nothing for X amount of time and then I'm returning to business as usual. It's usually followed by a question posted to the readers that asks them to consider doing this as well, or asks them if they're having the same problem, etc. And I read those and just shake my head thinking, NO! No, I do NOT have that problem. I DO spend a lot of time on the computer, but I do NOT see a problem with it. Nor do I see how refraining from using the computer for a week only to return to it full force at the end of that period is going to help me "live life" any more completely.

If they want to live life, why don't they just do it, instead of telling us all about it? I usually spend my late evening hours on the computer, but if I have a real life thing to do -- if Little Girl is over for the evening, or if a friend wants to go out and do something, or whatever, even if I have a series of those events that is going to keep me occupied for a couple weeks, I don't even think about the computer -- it doesn't occur to me to come announce on my blog that I won't be posting for X amount of time. Who cares? When I have the time, and have something to say, I post. And when I don't, I don't. Is it really that complicated?

I just don't get why people feel the need to "check in" with the world, I guess. I'm not saying they're wrong -- don't read that into this. I'm just trying to understand.

If you're one of those people, maybe you could enlighten me. Just why DO you take technology breaks, what do you expect to gain from it? Why do you post on your blog that you're not going to post for X amount of time? Maybe you're concerned that your readers will think something happened to you? And apparently that does happen... though to be perfectly honest, I never even NOTICE that a particular blogger hasn't posted in awhile, because there are enough other bloggers who are that I simply don't keep track...

Anyone have any thoughts to offer on this point? Do you feel like you spend "too much" time on the computer, and if so, why do you feel that way? I don't see the computer as a waste of time for me, I see it as a tool for learning and for communication with people, and those are two things I value... but maybe others don't see it that way? Is computer time not "living life"? Because quite frankly, my life is made much more fuller through the relationships that I form and maintain using the computer as a tool -- and that doesn't just mean people I meet online, that includes connecting with family, coworkers, and "real life" friends (as if internet friends aren't real life... which is another soapbox of mine :) ).

So... just wondering... :)

P.S. And no, I am not referring to you. :) The people I am thinking of have no idea I even exist and are certainly not reading this blog. And I'm not referring to, "I'll be out of town for the next week so won't be posting" type of things on blogs. I'm talking about deep introspective posts, again and again and again, about why they need these breaks... So don't get a complex. This isn't about you. :)

Things That Bug Me, and Other Tales...

Today is Mother's Day. I'll be honest. I hate Mother's Day. I've hated it for years.

Why?

Because Mother's Day is one huge blatant reminder of what I'm not, of course.

I hate watching adorable little girls and boys in church singing songs about their mothers or telling their favorite things about their moms. Because I don't have a little boy or a little girl up there with them. I hate when the pastor asks all the mothers to stand and every woman in the church is standing... except me. (I'm sure I'm not the only one, but it sure feels that way.) When the usher handing out the gifts nudges you, thinking you've simply forgotten to stand up, and you have to flat out say, "No, I'm not a mother..."

The worst though is when people send you Mother's Day greetings, online cards, virtual flowers, etc. Why are they sending me Mother's Day cards!? I'm not a mother. I'm sure they mean well, but the last thing in the world that I want on Mother's Day is someone wishing ME a Happy Mother's Day. Though I know it's not intended this way, it feels like a slap in the face.

I've asked people why they sent me Mother's Day cards knowing I'm not a mother. Their answers aren't at all logical to me. "Mother's Day is for all women!" they'll exclaim. No it isn't. It isn't Women's Day. It's Mother's Day. It's for mothers. You know, that thing I'm not.

Another justification is, "Well you HAVE a mother! So you get to celebrate Mother's Day!" Yes... but that doesn't justify sending ME a Mother's Day card. I have a father too, but nobody sends me Father's Day cards!

But enough complaining... next year, hopefully I will be a mother, or at least a foster mother, and these miserable Mother's Days will be over.

Next item on the agenda, for things that bug me... literally:

We had our first sunny day in WEEKS. Literally, we have had weeks where it has done nothing but rain, rain, and rain some more. So we took the kids out to play. Caterpillars were everywhere. Baby Boy wanted nothing to do with them, but Little Girl caught them, built them a house, the whole nine yards.

A little while later, while working on her house, she handed me a caterpillar and asked me to hold it for her. After a few minutes, I got tired of it crawling back and forth from hand to hand, so I set it down on my leg. It sat there just fine for awhile. Suddenly I glance down, and see this thing defecating on my pants! I instinctively flicked it off, and went after one of Baby's Boy's baby wipes, figuring they ought to be good for cleaning up poop. :) Well, the caterpillar didn't survive the flick, and Little Girl was furious with me for killing her caterpillar.

Sorry. It pooped on me. What would you have done!?

:)

A little while later as we sat there talking, a bug flew in my mouth. Yuck! So all in all, it was a very buggy day for me. :)

On the bright side of things, my little Laura-Ingalls-Wilder-wanna-be-in-training is coming right along. We've been reading Little House on the Prairie together, but she usually wants just one chapter and then she's done and moving on to other things, so it's been pretty slow going. Last week, I had a feeling she was hooked. We read a chapter, and then I turned the page and said, "Oh, the next chapter is the best one!" My mother asked what it is, and I said, "Mr. Edwards Meets Santa Claus." My mother and I are both clearly very excited about this chapter, and it must have been contagious. Little Girl seized the book from my hands. "Give it to me!" she said. "I want to read it myself!" I made her read it aloud to me. :)

So this week, she was clearly ready to read, and we read four chapters before she finally decided it was time to quit. And she said next week we will finish the rest of the book. Yep. I've got her now. YAY. :)

The other day, she was downstairs watching Alf and my sister was upstairs. Suddenly, she heard Little Girl's feet pounding up the steps. "MOMMY, MOMMY!" she shrieked. "YOU HAVE TO COME SEE THIS!!!" "What!?" my sister asked, and so excited she could barely speak, Little Girl gasped out, "ON THE TV! COME AND SEE!"

My sister went downstairs to where Little Girl had it on pause. She rewound it a little, and it was the episode where Alf broke the TV and Willie said he wasn't going to get it fixed, they just would have no tv. Alf was aghast and made reference to how they were going to be living like Little House on the Prairie. Little Girl's eyes shone as she said, "Isn't that SO FUNNY, Mommy!" I love that Little House references excite her. :)

Then another day they were at a store, and Little Girl picked up a stuffed Scottie dog and was playing with it. My sister was paying no attention, until Little Girl told her to look. She had tied a piece of cloth around its head to look like a bonnet, and she announced proudly, "Look, Mommy! I made a prairie dog! Not the little kind that live in holes in the ground -- it's a little dog on the prairie!"

Yep. That's my girl. :)

Processing...

The Compassion Bloggers have been in India this week. Just as with their trips to Uganda and the Dominican Republic, I've followed their blogs closely, learned much, and been overwhelmed by what I've seen through their eyes.

The other day, I was working at a family's house and happened to glance out at the backyard, where the children themselves had built a playhouse. It's a sight... uneven boards nailed up wherever a child happened to place them, and nothing but holes for a door and windows. But it's serviceable. It's just a playhouse, after all.

But the thought crossed my mind as I saw it: This little kid-built shack looks very similar to the homes in these impoverished communities where Compassion kids live. What, in my eyes, is a shoddy playhouse, would be in their eyes, a home.

And then I read about a little girl in India named Kiran, and saw pictures of and read descriptions of the home she shares with her family of five. It's 4' x 6'.

Stop for a moment and really think about those dimensions. Picture it. Their entire house is smaller than my BED.

I'm still trying to wrap my mind around that one. Try to imagine five people even sitting in the house at one time, let alone sleeping there. (The girl explained that some of them sleep out on the street since there's not room for them all to lie down.) The girl's mother makes $15 a month cleaning homes. $15 a MONTH.

And I thought it was bad that the family of my little Rebecca in Uganda makes about $1 a day. That's twice the amount that this other little girl's family makes.

Just last week, I complained that my two "kid bedrooms" are so small. They may be small by my standards, but to these girls, just one of these bedrooms that looks SO tiny to me is bigger than their entire home.

And while I sit in my enormous-to-them home and complain about my "tiny" rooms while sleeping in a bed that is bigger than some people's entire house, do you know what my little 6-year-old Rebecca is doing? Based on what she wrote me in her last letter, she sits in her Ugandan hut and prays for God to triple my income so that I can come to see her.

A child whose family makes $1 a day is praying for God to triple MY income.

There are no words to describe the thoughts and feelings this knowledge brings.

I read the following quotation on a couple of different blogs this weekend:

“Sometimes I would like to ask God why He allows poverty, suffering, and injustice when He could do something about it.”

“Well, why don’t you ask Him?”

“Because I’m afraid He would ask me the same question.”

I'm doing something about it for Staurin, Angie, Milton, Marsabi, and Rebecca, my five wonderful Compassion children. But it still just doesn't seem enough. I can't sponsor any more right now myself, but maybe I can find others who can.

So... want to sponsor a child?

Our Little Miracle

Life has been beyond busy and I've not had two minutes to myself in so long I forget what such a thing would be like. But I had to snatch a few minutes tonight to share my excitement.

Baby Boy came over Saturday evening to play and the most phenomenal thing happened. We had a conversation.

Now that may not seem like any big deal to most people. After all, he's two and a half years old. What's the big deal about having a conversation?

The big deal is that I've never actually had a conversation with Baby Boy before. He'll say things, sure, but mostly it's just pointing at things and exclaiming their names over and over. He usually ignores any questions directed his way, or if he answers, we have no idea what he said.

But Saturday, we had a conversation. About bubbles. He requested a bottle of bubbles, took them outside, and was playing with them, but then made the mistake of setting them on the step while running off to play with something else. In the meantime, Little Girl took over the bubbles.

I didn't even realize what had happened until it was over. Baby Boy informed me that Little Girl had his bubbles, I told him I would get him another bottle and asked him what color he wanted, and he said green. I went in to get the bubbles, and he changed his mind and said he wanted pink. I returned with the pink bubbles, and that's when it hit me -- he just conversed with me.

He talked a lot, all afternoon, in full sentences even. Not lengthy sentences, but consistently 3-4 word sentences. And I could understand him. That was the most amazing part. He's been saying longer things lately but we all, his parents included, just look at each other blankly because without context, we have no clue what he's telling us.

But Saturday was different. After a couple of hours of listening to this, I could resist no longer. I yanked out the language test I use for toddlers and tested him. Chronologically, he is 32 months of age. His receptive language tested out at 34 months, which was no surprise as he's never had a problem receptively. But his expressive language? 31 months! How we rejoiced!! I drew big circles around it and gave it to Baby Boy and told him to take it home and show his mommy -- his first A paper! :)

I have no idea how this happened. It really came out of the blue. I was thinking about the Easter video I took of him, where he says what we thought was a lot then, but came to about three utterances that were apparently unintelligible to everyone who watched the video until they heard me repeating back to him what he said. "Open present." "Ope this up." "Skittles." That was the full extent of several minutes of video while we prompted him to say numerous things, just a couple of weeks ago.

And now the child is CAUGHT UP.

Miracles do still happen.

Just a rant, mostly...

I don't go to doctors. I hate doctor visits. First, there's the lengthy wait because they never take you at your appointment time, of course. Then there's all that exposure to germs in the waiting room. Then you finally get called back and a nurse or assistant or someone does some things, and then you have to wait all over again before you actually get to see a doctor. You have to self-diagnose, he's in and out of there in a minute or less, and finally you're good to go.

What was the point of that? I can self-diagnose at home, and self-treat too. I don't want to take antibiotics unless it's critical that I do so because I think in most instances they do more harm than good anyway. And with no health insurance, it costs an absolute fortune to go to the doctor. So I don't.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know what you're thinking -- but what about preventative health care? What about it? I personally believe that the food I eat, exercise I get, and supplements I take go much farther toward preventing future health problems than doctor visits. So that's where my time and money goes -- toward actually preventing disease, not just testing periodically to see if I have any.

I know you can live a healthful life and still get sick. It can happen to anyone. But if it happens, it happens. I can't waste all my time and money on doctor visits checking to see if it's going to happen all the time. It's just not how I want to live my life.

However, there is one doctor that I can't avoid. The eye doctor. I'm blind as a bat (without correction), and unfortunately there's that little "prescription only lasts a year" issue when it comes to vision correction. Oh, I find ways to get around that too. You simply buy enough contact lenses during the year your prescription is valid to last you several years. :) But alas, I'm on my last pair of contacts and I can't put it off any longer. I must have an eye exam.

So being in a new location, I needed a new optometrist. I scouted around and found one a mile from my house. Can't beat the location, so I scheduled an appointment. It was difficult to do as my work schedule, thanks to all the driving, has become insane lately, but I scheduled for 8 am, figuring I could still work most of the day that way. After all, to avoid the lengthy wait due to backed up appointments, you make sure you're the first patient of the day, right? You get right in and then back out again.

My first work appointment today was at 10. I really thought two hours was enough time. Especially when I got the eye history and HIPAA forms in the mail to fill out ahead of time, "to expedite your visit." Well, great -- these people are all about efficiency. Perfect.

So I show up at 8, hand them my papers, and am told to have a seat and someone will be with me shortly. I was a bit surprised to see five other people already there, since the office had just opened its doors, and there's only one doctor. But maybe they have a lot of staff members doing the bulk of the exams, I thought.

About ten minutes later, a couple more people came in. And about ten minutes after that, some more. Some of the people who were there when I arrived were called back, but it was about one person per fifteen minutes.

At 9:00, having waited now for a full hour, one man went up to the desk and said, "My appointment was supposed to be at 8:30, can you tell me how much longer it's going to be?"

"Oh," says the receptionist. "About another thirty minutes."

(At this point, I'm thinking to myself, okay, my appointment was at 8 so that must mean they're going to call me any minute now, right?)

The man was displeased, and informed her that he is not able to sit for long periods of time and he can't wait that much longer. She said, "Oh, well if you're not able to sit and wait long, what you need to do is get an 8 am appointment, and be the first patient of the day, then you won't have to wait very long at all." She rescheduled him for another day at 8 am.

I kept my mouth shut. I shouldn't have, the man needed to be warned, but I did.

I waited another ten minutes. Might I add that at this point, NONE of the people who have been called back have emerged yet. I really didn't think a vision exam took that long! It worried me even more, seeing as how I was supposed to be at work at 10, and it was already ten minutes after 9 and they'd not even called me back yet.

I went up to the receptionist and asked how much longer it would be. "About thirty minutes," she smiles.

I wasn't smiling.

I don't even think it was a valid answer. Funny how the man with the 8:30 appointment had a thirty minute wait ahead of him and ten of it had already passed... I think she must just say thirty minutes to everyone.

I said, "Well, I'm going to have to cancel then." "Oh, okay," she smiles ever-so-sweetly. "Would you like to go ahead and reschedule now?"

What, so I can waste another day sitting in their office? You have to be kidding me.

I said, mostly because I wanted all the other people sitting there to know just how ridiculously long their wait was going to be, "No... if an 8:00 appointment doesn't get you in until 9:40, I don't want to reschedule. I can't take that much time off work, I'll have to find somewhere else," and I left. That's very unlike me, I'm usually pretty patient, but this was truly ridiculous.

I called another eye doctor. I made an appointment and I asked about how much time I needed to allot for the appointment, as I needed to schedule work around it. "Oh, from the time you walk in the door until the time you leave, you'll need to allow for about an hour," she said cautiously, as if she expected that to be too lengthy of a time for me to be able to manage it.

An hour? For the wait time plus the exam?? Good grief, after waiting an hour and ten minutes and being told there'd be another thirty minute wait before they even got started, and not a soul had finished their exam yet, an hour is NOTHING. (An hour is actually what I had thought it would take this morning, all total.)

It really makes me wonder just how many patients this eye doctor loses due to massive overbooking, and why they continue to do it. After all, two of us walked out in the first hour they were open today. How many must they be losing by the time they're into the afternoon hours and how far behind are they by that time?

If anyone is a receptionist for a doctor who handles the scheduling, could you please tell me just what is the thought process behind this!?

And how do those of you who visit doctors frequently stand it? I have families all the time that tell me, "Well, little Joey woke up with a runny nose, I'm going to take him to the doctor." WHY? Little Joey's runny nose will get better without a doctor; why put you and little Joey through the torture of the doctor's visit?

Help me understand...

It's Not Fair

We hear that line all the time from Little Girl. Usually about the most ridiculous things. "It's not fair -- THAT little boy got a Tinkerbell wand and Tinkerbell is MY favorite." (Heard at Disney on Ice show...) "It's not fair, I want another Webkinz!" (How many Webkinz do you have?? "Only 8 or 9!") The best one was when Baby Boy was allowed to eat bread for the first time at a restaurant (milk allergy he's finally outgrown) -- Little Girl scarfed down seven slices of bread and then was stopped because, 1) other people wanted bread too, and 2) she still had a meal coming to her! "It's not fair -- HE gets bread." As he sat there with his ONE piece of bread, first ever in his two years of life. Yes, it's not fair indeed.

She knows about children who have nothing. She even writes occasionally to my Compassion kids. She fills shoeboxes at Christmas. She does get it. But that all goes out the window when she doesn't get what she wants, and suddenly everything is unfair.

This morning, I felt like saying it. The nursery worker in Baby Boy's class has been bringing the toddlers out into church and seating them on the front row during the singing. From where we sit, we have the perfect view of Baby Boy, and we love watching him. This morning, however, we saw the little boy next to him start poking him. Baby Boy shrugged away at first, then as the child continued to poke and then hit at him, Baby Boy tried to block him and push his hands away. He then scooted as far down the pew as he could and the other boy followed him, still hitting. Meanwhile, the nursery worker was singing and completely oblivious to the entire situation. The moment Baby Boy had finally had enough and reached out to hit the other child back is of course the moment that the nursery worker finally looked down. "Now HE'S going to get in trouble!" gasped my mother in a whisper, next to me, and sure enough, the worker started shaking her finger at Baby Boy and scolding him.

Not fair. Not fair at all.

I'm getting ready to bring children in my home to whom "it's not fair" has such a different meaning. The people they were supposed to be able to trust have hurt them. It's not fair. Through no fault of their own, they've been taken away from everyone and everything they loved: their parents, their grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends, neighbors, teachers, classmates, pets, favorite toys, their house. Everything.

I hadn't really thought before of how significant their losses are. It's hard to lose someone close to you. It's even harder to have two or three losses back to back. But to lose everything, all at once? Devastating.

It's not fair. I hope that once these children enter my life, and our lives, that Little Girl begins to realize what we try to tell her now, but it goes in one ear and out the other. Life isn't fair. You can bemoan the unfairness of it and wallow in your misery for the rest of your life, or you can accept that life isn't fair, accept your challenges, and move on.

That's what I hope to impress upon my own children. And that's what I hope Little Girl can learn from them.

Kindergarten vs. Preschool Revisited...

Okay, since I've already bored my readership (all ten of you...) with all the sensory stuff, I'll go ahead and hit on this topic before returning to our regular programming.

I've been meaning to write about it for almost a couple years now, because when I wrote about Little Girl's terrible kindergarten experience, and how it compared to how things were done in her preschool, I titled it "Kindergarten vs. Preschool". Well that (and hillbilly weddings, oddly enough...) is by far the search string that brings the most people in... so I recognized that there must be a lot of parents out there trying to decide whether their little one should go ahead and start kindergarten or go to preschool first.

So, as an early interventionist who works with children to prepare them to enter preschool now, with six years of experience working in the elementary school system (which included both a preschool and a Head Start classroom) with most of my students being in preschool and kindergarten prior to this, I offer you my educated opinion:

If you have a "young kindergartener" -- which in most states these days is a child who will turn five over the summer -- you have a decision to make. Many (I would even venture to say most) parents are now holding their young kindergarteners out of kindergarten until the following year. And with good reason. Kindergarten isn't what it used to be. A lot is expected of kindergarteners these days. They're expected to be reading before the school year is out.

What I know about reading from my special ed background: Children are developmentally ready to learn to read at the age of 6. (That means when they are at an intellectual age of 6. Some children are certainly able to learn to read younger than 6, but those children are intellectually ahead of their chronological age. In other words, their brain is functioning like a six year old's brain at the age of four or five.)

So what does this mean for our young kindergarteners? Our children who won't turn six until the very end of kindergarten or the summer after their kindergarten year? It's bad news. If the child is developmentally on track, meaning they learn typically and appropriately for their age, they actually aren't really ready to learn to read until AFTER they finish kindergarten -- and yet, they are expected to be reading nonetheless before they finish. That isn't fair to the child, and fortunately, many parents are recognizing this and this is why so many summer five-year-olds are being put in preschool for their five year old year. This works out great for these children, because they can still experience the structured routine of school and gain the social skills appropriate for five-year-olds from classmates, but they won't start kindergarten and be expected to learn to read until they are six -- and developmentally ready to do so.

That said, I don't necessarily advocate holding all children back a year just because their birthday falls during the summer. Some children are developmentally ahead of schedule and it would be in their best interest to start kindergarten. This was our decision for Little Girl, who was a summer five. She's one of the youngest in her class (maybe the youngest), but that's okay. She's emotionally mature enough that she's keeping up socially without difficulty, and we knew it would be doing her a disservice to hold her back because she was already reading some on her own before she even started kindergarten, without having been formally taught. To keep her back would have made her intellectually so far above the other kids by the time she was six that she would have been bored to death, and wouldn't have learned anything at all from school. So despite her young age, Little Girl went to kindergarten at just-turned-five.

Baby Boy on the other hand just missed the cutoff by a couple of days, and I'm thrilled about that because it takes the decision out of our hands. I think Baby Boy will benefit greatly from the extra year of preschool, and not turning six until kindergarten starts, because he simply does not have the social and emotional maturity that Little Girl had at his age, even if he does have the intellectual capacity, which I think he will based on the cognitive skills he can do even now.

So that brings me to my next point. Even if you feel your child is intellectually ahead of schedule and will not struggle academically if put in kindergarten as a young five-year-old, the other aspect you need to look at is emotional and social skills. Watch your child with other children slightly older than him or her. See how they interact with other children, how they play, how they respond to difficult situations. Is your child mature enough to relate on equal terms with children several months to a year older, or is he or she going to stick out like a sore thumb on the playground because they just haven't developed the social skills of a slightly older child yet. And remember, this doesn't mean there's anything wrong with your child's maturity or social skills -- the other children are older. I'm just pointing out that just because a child is ahead of his/her age level intellectually does not mean they will also be ahead of their age level socially and emotionally. And all three areas are required if you want a successful school career for your child. Issues with delayed social skills may not become apparent in kindergarten, but let your child get to 3rd grade and see them as the kid everybody picks on because they're immature, and you'll regret that decision to push them ahead of what they were capable of.

So, my advice to you as a parent of a young five-year-old of kindergarten entry age, is to look carefully at your child's skills academically, socially, and emotionally. If your child has consistently demonstrated skills AHEAD of their chronological age level, going ahead with kindergarten may be your best option. But if you see that your child is only AT age level (and if your child is below level, keep reading as I address this separately) in ANY of these three areas, you should strongly consider a good solid preschool for their five-year-old year.

Now if you have a "special needs" child, my advice is different. If you have a child that you know learns slowly, has already had a lot of intervention, maybe has attended a special needs preschool for two years, and you know that learning to read is going to be a big task for your little one, you might want to consider putting your child in kindergarten with the plan to do either kindergarten or first grade twice.

Why? Because your child has already had a full preschool experience. And you already know your child is going to need a lot of repetition to learn the foundations of reading. Kindergarten and first grade are very foundational years, and I personally would rather have a child repeat kindergarten or first grade than any other year. And if you have a young kindergartener, that age is on your side -- your child then has the opportunity to do kindergarten for two years and get all those basics drilled into them (or if your child does pretty well with kindergarten but falls apart in first grade, that would be the year to repeat) and still come out being about the same age as the other children in their classroom, even AFTER the retention.

If the child's learning problems are mild enough, that double kindergarten or first grade just might be enough to prevent them from having to be put in special education classes; and even if the child's problems are more significant than that, the extra year in regular education will do them good even if they still end up having to be put in special education afterward. Give them a good beginning school experience to start off with, and build their foundation as solidly as possible. So children with known learning problems, that's my advice... put them in as young kindergarteners and then let them repeat a year. (I almost never would advise repeating any year later than first grade. If your child struggles in a later grade because they missed important blocks in their foundation, repeating a later grade will not fill in those blocks because those skills simply aren't taught in later grades. Getting that solid K-1st foundation is CRITICAL. THOSE are the years to repeat, if retention is going to be necessary.)

My two cents, for what it's worth. :)