I'm reading this book for book club and it's really annoying me.  I truly cannot believe that the author received such kudos for it and it's a best seller.  Biggest thing-this book is completely directed towards the 1% ers (of which I appear to be, and yet not) who live in either Silicon Valley, NoVa burbs or NYC burbs.  I don't think a lot of what she says pertains to most people.  I'm sorry-I don't know anyone in my circles who truly expects their kids to go to an Ivy League or a "name" school.   Also-she's laying the blame for this at the feet of the parents, while discussing 1)how schools are giving WAY too much homework-from elementary on up and 2)how difficult the college entrance process is.  Neither of these 2 MAJOR issues is the fault of the parents.  How about putting this back on our educators-at both the high school and college levels!!!  Yes, we over schedule and put our kids at the center of our universe.  But even in the examples of "how to discuss things with your kids" made me what to stab my eyeballs out: she's trying to teach you how to guide your child into analyzing what they're doing/thinking in such an obnoxious, precious way.  It's yet another way of trying to get your child to be The Best.  From a research point of view, I also think a lot of what she is complete tripe.  A lot of her "evidence" is anecdotal and examples from her own life and social circles.

Going to the bris today and feeling like my own sons' were a million years ago.  B was really the only one who had the traditional bris: our house, 40 people, catered by Joan & Gary's, I cried through the prayers and left the room during the actual circumcision.  And A's was at our house with a mohel, and my parents and that was it.  For G, we just had the doctor do it at the hospital.  We had no real Jewish community at that point.  We didn't belong to a synagogue.  We didn't have a ton of friends.  We had no Jewish relatives who would come for it, other than K.  L  had already died.  And we had a big naming for E at Baltimore Hebrew, and then a party at home.  It's such a weird tradition.  A medical procedure where we all observe, clap, sing, and then eat.  Weird.  I am feeling such a meh feeling over the whole Judaism thing as of late.  I have no interest in doing more study, or being more observant.  I'm glad I converted.  I like our Jewish community.  I am glad we raised the kids with something.  But currently I am in the "I just don't care" phase.  Perhaps once I start going to more services with all the upcoming bnai mitzvot and prepping A for his I will get more into it.  Or not.  It's not that I doubt the existence of a plan, or God-or the feeling that we're all interconnected-but I don't need to follow the tenets of Judaism for all of that.  And I don't know that studying more about Judaism, or somehow getting more into it, is the way.  I also think the whole Jesus thing-that he is somehow the only Real way to God-is cuckoo.  Eating certain foods, or praying certain things, or belief in a specific thing-I guess I'm too much of a cynic-but I don't think that is "it".    Believe whatever you want, but don't impose those beliefs on others.  I'm really more "Golden Rule"-do unto others.  Be a kind person, try to help others.  The End.

That girl.  Not only did she get into Cal Poly SLO, UCSB, UC Davis, Northeastern, American University with a $12K scholarship, she got into her absolute favorite school:  George Washington with a $20K scholarship AND into the super prestigious Elliott School of International Affairs.  I am crying.  Because not only has she worked her butt off for all of high school, and is such a fantastic person-she had such a tough childhood socially and with her motor skills.  She had to have occupational therapy for years.  She had such a rough go in  elementary school and at Mt View with the whole social scene.  She was not one of those giggly, girly-girls.  She was just different, an old soul-and she was bullied.  And she has absolutely blossomed since we moved here, since she went to SDA.  She deserves every bit of wonderful that comes her way! And now: she is about to take off on this amazing adventure.  I cannot even fathom all the stuff she will see and do, and all the interesting people she will meet.  I am in fucking AWE of her.   Proud doesn't even come close to describing what I feel for her.  She is going to go off and do wonderful things.  I just had to have faith in her and in the universe.  I need to remember that when I'm frustrated with the boys or worried about them.  It will all end up the way it's meant to.

If I could back in time, to when she was 4 or when she was in 6th grade-what would I say to myself?  She is going to do amazing things.  She is a beautiful, funny, smart, hard working person.  She will be happy and have friends and be going places you cannot fathom.  She's moving so far beyond all of this.  Relax.  Just enjoy her.  Make her feel good about herself.  Focus on her strengths and interests.  Don't worry about the rest.

When I was at G's conference all I could think most of the time is that this is total bs.  We will continue to read together, and he can read alone when he feels like it (or maybe I will mandate reading times for everybody).  He's doing just fine.  I don't care what "level" he's at.  He's a very fluid reader and reads with expression.  If he can retell the story he's doing fine.  He may not pick up on every nuance but whatever.  I don't care.  I never test him on spelling-I think first grade spelling is ridiculous.  And the common core math is absurd.  I'm just going to smile and tell him he's awesome. Done.  Whatever.  E learned completely different things and different ways in elementary school.  And she's brilliant and hard working and fine.  I am not going to get hung up on what they say.  I was much more thrilled to hear that he's happy and loves being there.  That's all I care about.   The rest they figure out.  That is one of the biggest blessings of being an older mom and having older kids.

I was just looking over the letter we got from SDA the other day about the last months of school and information about prom, senior awards night, graduation-dates, times.  I said out loud, "Getting to the end .  .  ."  and then thought from E's point of view, "Getting to the beginning .  .  ."

I couldn't wait to get out and go to college and start my life.  I was scared-hence why I went so close to home to the ultimate safe school, but I was away from home and thrilled.  No matter how much she loves us, loves home-it's time for childhood to be over and for her adult life to start.  All the things she'll get to do, friends she'll make, romances she'll have, things she'll learn .  .  . The bizarre thing is-so much we'll never know anything about.  It goes so fast.  I waited my whole life to have a baby, be a mother.  I swear I was just pregnant, wearing those maternity overalls, living in Baltimore, and rocking in her nursery-couldn't wait to meet her, hold her, kiss her.  Then here we are: 18 years later and she's ready to head out into the world.

The book, Everything I Never Told You, was kind of amazing.  The way the author, Celeste Ng, was able to capture each character and their thoughts, struggles, backstory-the ways we hope for our children, the pressures we put on them-whether we say it out loud or not, our thoughts about our parents, the relationships between siblings, between parents and children, between a married couple.  Living vicariously through your children.  Of seeing what you want to see.  Or the things you see-what you make that mean.  When you've had painful experiences and you see your children going through the same thing.  Social issues.   Feeling like an outsider.

It made me think back to my parents trying to offer advice about my weight ("you're too sedentary", "not so many potatoes" and something about having boys like me if I was thinner-the exact words I have clearly blocked out-usually said by my dad, clearly put up to it by my mother and obviously a big topic of discussion between them) and how fucking horrible and decide-ly UNhelpful it was.  I do not blame them for this in anyway.  As a parent of teens when you see something that is clearly painful for your child and you're trying to "help" and "fix it" and since they're not three and you cannot make it better or control their behavior (not that you could at three either, that is a complete illusion that I learned beautifully from my daughter) and the only thing you can try is Words, Words, Words.  And your amazing, brilliant, gorgeous, hilarious, lovable child just hears criticism and judgment on top of what is CLEARLY a painful situation for them.  Because they are WELL aware that they are shy/socially awkward/should have more friends/overweight/not doing well enough in geometry/not attractive to the opposite sex.  And what they need is someone telling them that despite their feelings of inadequacy they are fucking AWESOME, and will be able to figure it all out in due time.  And again, I'm not resentful and bitter towards my parents, because I have done the same hideous thing, multiple times with multiple children.  That ends now.  They are wonderful, and the things they struggle with are things they will figure out.  They need encouragement not "helpful hints" or pointing out all the ways that they are deficient.  That's one of my biggest takeaways from this book.

Another sick day.  UGH.  What the heck?! 6th grade has been the year of illness for him.  Total drag. And even though he's old enough to be left alone for a bit, sleeps through the night, and I don't have to hold onto him-I still worry and fret a bit.  It's on my mind.  I need to work out-that will make me feel much better and not so yucky.

I feel stressed when he's sick.  Because? I feel annoyed that I lose my "free time" and have to keep doing the nursemaid thing and I'm not super nurturing and I feel guilty also that I can't be-"Oh, here's your tray and your vase with a flower and rest your weary head."  I was pretty much, "God dammit-you're sick AGAIN???!!!!!" (G: "Mom, you said the bad D word - money into the swear jar!")   It definitely doesn't encourage staying home unless you are truly miserable.  I'm hardcore-if you're skipping school it's because you have a fever, or had a fever last night, or something diagnosable (i.e. strep) or I've seen you throw up.  Just telling me you've puked does not cut it.

 I also may have a thought or two floating around that one of them will be the (odds WAY against) kid who goes from a slight cut on the finger to full on strep infection to death within days.  I know I'm a freak.  I do need to work on that a bit-because it's mentally exhausting to feel like any of us are steps away from death and total loss at every moment.