Unbelievable...It's a Blog...

*This is not a Pro or Anti abortion rant*

It's a Child, Not a Choice

Interesting phrase. Everyone has an opinion but I sometimes wonder if anyone stops to think what that child might want.

My best friend just had a baby and I am beyond happy for her and her family. She's wanted this for so long and I'm happy she's happy. The reason I say this is because I hope she doesn't read this blog or, if she does, she knows me well enough to not be mortified, infuriated and offended.

I love kids – I have no idea why, I have no concrete reason – I just do and I always have. I have none of my own which, at one point, was a source of great pain. I now see it for the blessing it is. I can barely take care of myself. At 22, it was understandable; at 44, it's pathetic. A child would have had no chance with me. I have a job working with kids who are emotionally and behaviorally challenged. I love these kids and they know it. With me, they know where they stand; my expectations don't change and, while my approach to each kid is different, those expectations don't vary from kid to kid. And, while I love these kids and don't mind the job (much), it barely pays the bills. I have nieces and nephews and the kids I work with and find they suit my need to be maternal just fine without actually rearing my own.

A couple of notes before I go any further:

I do not like abortion. In a perfect world, every child would be born either into a loving home or given to a loving adoptive home. Because someone, somewhere WANTS that child. That's not the problem. The problem is that these kids aren't being born into loving homes or being given up for adoption. They're born to children who think having a baby will solve their problems and give them someone who will love them. Or they're born to mothers who are addicted to something. Or to an abusive father...or mother.

In a perfect world, people who don't want kids...um...WOULDN'T HAVE THEM. This is 2010, people...USE A CONDOM.

I do not see it as my place to tell ANYONE what they should or should not do with their lives or their bodies. I don't want anyone telling ME what to do, after all.

I also will never understand people who have nothing better to do than tell other people how to live their lives. Why do you care if I go to hell? Seriously..if the Jehovah's are right...only a scant few are going to heaven...I'm one less person who might steal a seat on the bus. Stop trying to save me, I'll refuse just to annoy you.

So the bumper sticker says “It's a child, not a choice” and, again, I wonder if we were able to ask the child if it wanted to be born – would it? If it knew its life was going to be nothing but heartache and misery and pain – would it choose to be born? If I knew what this life was going to bring, I would have grabbed my hat, said “no thank you” and gone screaming in the other direction.

Let's reason this out a bit. You meet someone and fall in love, get married (or committed or whatever) and decide to build a life and a family. Great. You're going to have a child. Why? Think about it...why are you having a child?

Let's look at it from the child's point of view:

They're pushed screaming and crying from a warm, safe place into a cold world that, with the notable exception of a couple of people (hopefully), doesn't give a DAMN about it. Now, if it's one of the lucky children, it's born into a household where it is wanted and loved for the first five years. It's sheltered in its own little world where it's the ruler of the universe. Never expecting what's coming next. It gets sent to school. Huh? Wait...I don't want to go to school and sit all day and learn...stuff. I want to run and play and watch cartoons and...why don't I have a CHOICE?

13 years later:

Okay...done with THAT...now I'm going to go and run and play and watch cartoons and play on the computer and ...what? Get a what? A job? Go to college? WHY? I don't WANT to do those things...

And it goes on from there...job, mortgage, car payment...*blinks* Suddenly the kid that never asked to be born is bringing a kid into this world.

And that's just the kids who are actually raised in a loving home (or homes ...because I know several kids whose parents have divorced and they're lovely children anyway).

Okay...you get the picture. You've given birth to a child that you are now going to put all the expectations on that someone put on you. The child didn't ASK to be born – unless Sylvia Browne is right and we all chose our lives before we got here – if this is the case, ignore this blog and excuse me while I make plans to KILL MYSELF when I die (re-read that, I did NOT just threaten suicide) because what the FUCK was I thinking when I planned this shit? Was I high? Maybe I should have been? Ok...enough digression – but YOU chose to have it. YOU gave birth to it ... I think you are now responsible for it...FOREVER...because YOU made the CHOICE to bring a child into this world...the child didn't really have a say in it. And that's the truth for every single one of us. Someone else made that decision for us. Thanks. No, really, thanks a lot.

And, let's face it, Life sucks monkey ass about 78% of the time. Yes, I pulled that percentage out of my ass. A friend's father was fond of saying life is peaks and valleys. Too bad the peaks are usually not as high as the valleys are low and they're PEAKS so they're pointy and don't last as long as those flat-ass-stretch-for-fucking-ever valleys.

I've been in this latest valley for...3? 4? years...I'm tired...to the bone, spirit, soul tired. The constant...and I do mean constant...struggle has driven me to my knees. I'm a spiritual person. I believe there's something greater out there looking out for me...but for some reason, it feels like whoever's been looking out went on vacation. I don't know what I did...but it must have been really bad for karma to be biting my ass this hard.

Two weeks ago I almost drained what little I had in the bank and ran away. Almost. I had the plan...all I needed was my backpack with my laptop and e-reader...a couple of t-shirts and pairs of jeans, socks and underwear. Throw it in the backseat and just disappear. Luckily (?) my common sense (which, according to my mother, is sorely lacking in me) kicked in and I knew I wouldn't get far and then I was in trouble cuz...getting a job would prove problematic while on the run from your life and, unfortunately, no matter where I went, I'd still be with me. (yeah, someone else said it better...no matter where ya go, there ya are). So I can't run from my life...cuz...I'm still me.

So. There ya have it. It's not a child, really...it IS a choice...whether you've chosen to have it or chosen not to have it, you've made a choice. And you've made it for someone else. Choosing to have a child isn't necessarily the “right” choice – considering who and what that child might grow to be...and considering that you're going to push that child into making its own choices...when the first and most important choice was never his or hers to make.

Think That'll Do It,

CNQ

Kids...and other annoyances

I love kids. No, seriously, I absolutely love them. I have five nieces and nephews that are blood related and five that aren't blood related but I love just as much. I love seeing kids in restaurants and feel badly for the parents when they act up but I have to stop myself from laughing - because as the "not-the-parent" I'm amused. I love babies and toddlers and pre-teens and even teens. I love the way their minds work at all stages of development. I'm constantly fascinated by the intelligence and creativity of the children in my life.




I started babysitting when I was 11 and babysat until I graduated college. Between 11 & 18 it was pocket money and "special stuff that mom and dad aren't going to buy me" money. The summer of my sophomore year of college, it was "I want to go to NYC for a week in August" money. I worked at a playground for two college summers, teaching kids about sportsmanship, chess, arts & crafts and whatever life lessons they chose to ask me about.




It is constantly amazing to me that I was 36 before I actually settled into a job I was pretty much born to do. I work with kids who are emotionally and behaviorally challenged. Now, writing is my passion - the reason I get out of bed and sit at my computer for any number of hours a day. Kids...kids are a calling, I guess. I'm compelled to write, want to write, need to write. I love working with these kids in the hopes of making a difference...even if it's only to one kid.




Which brings me to today. I work 11:30pm until 8am (EST)...I LOVE the overnight shift. As a general rule, it's quiet and I can get some writing done, talk to friends who live on the other coast (and in the central and mountain time zones), catch up on my webcomics (questionable content, something*positive, punch an' pie, penny and aggie, least I could do, looking for group) and my games (Kingdom of Loathing, Tanoth, Sryth). At 6:15am, I start waking kids up. Usually...this is a fairly straightforward and well-oiled routine thing. Wake 1 kid at 6:15, 2 at 6:30, 1 at 7, 1 at 7:30 - this varies depending on the number of kids we have (we're only at 5 kids, capacity is 8), their ages (7-14) and what time they have to be at school (right now, 2 leave at 7:15, 3 leave at 7:55). Kids do their hygeine (brush teeth and comb hair, wash face, put deodorant on), get dressed, go down and get breakfast then come back up and wait to leave for school.




Child #5 decided today that he wasn't going to school. Why? Because he didn't get up at 7:25 when he was woken up and asked to. He didn't get up until 7:45. This means he doesn't have time to eat breakfast here, he has to take it "to go". He is not being refused breakfast, he's simply being told that he needs to get his hygeine done and get dressed, then he'll be given his bagel in a baggie to take to school and eat. Now, mind you, most of the kids at the school eat breakfast AT SCHOOL...I'm pretty sure our kids are the only ones who don't. So this isn't a big deal, he's not going to get in any kind of trouble or get made fun of. He became angry, threw his hygeine bin and went back to bed. It's 8:55am and he's still in bed, refusing to get up.




Now, I'm pretty sure there's more going on here than just a late start. These kids are, after all, behaviorally and emotionally challenged. They have problems most of us can't even imagine...and have seen and done things that most of us never will (if we're lucky). The kids in this home are supposed to be getting ready to go home...unfortunately, someone messed up and the kids we have right now - have no homes to go to, they're also not ready to go even if they had them. Their lives are pretty unstable and when "staff" is the most constant thing in their life, it's got to be unsettling and scary. It's all so impermanent. So I try to be patient and nurturing and caring. There is a wall in front of my labeled "STRENGTHS" with a myriad of posters in bright colors with staff and children's names on them. My name is there and my strength (chosen by one of the kids that was here when I started) is PATIENCE. Ms. Kraus is PATIENT. And so I am, usually. Today? Not so much. I keep repeating to myself that he has problems, stuff going on that he's trying to deal with blah blah blah.




However, I am annoyed. They tell you to leave your personal life outside the "office" and I'm pretty good at doing that. But this has been a trying week outside of work, it's Thursday, it's now 9am and I'm exhausted because I haven't slept all week and want to go home and put my jammies on (yes, this is me whining). And this child won't get out of his bed and GO TO SCHOOL. My patience is fast wearing thin and I'm hoping someone gets in soon. Oh, wait, the person coming in has to go pick up the kid that's running a fever at school. The kid who told me she wasn't feeling well this morning but who I had to send to school because I am not allowed to keep kids home. That's right...42 years old and my judgment about when not to send a kid to school isn't deemed sound. All kids, no matter what, have to go to school because of the staffing situation. If they get sick at school, they can go to the nurse and someone will have to go pick them up. Crazy, right? Kid #1 actually woke up crying this morning, I could see she wasn't feeling well (and she's not one to try and wiggle out of school)...but I had to send her to school. So my annoyance was already notched up because I felt so badly (I am really no good at seeing a kid cry) about sending this kid to school. Meanwhile...perfectly healthy kid #5 is laying in bed. Yes...grr. argh.




So, I am annoyed. Annoyed about kid #1, annoyed at kid #5 and annoyed with the folks that are supposed to be here AT 8AM JUST IN CASE shit like this happens. Remember? Kids are EMOTIONALLY AND BEHAVIORALLY CHALLENGED...there are days like this...there are going to be days like this and at 8am I am tired...it is the end of my shift and I want to get out of here because I have been up all night and I am tired and my eyes hurt and I'm getting cranky and the odds of me keeping my patience is rapidly deteriorating and all I want to do is yank Kid #5 out of bed and kick his ass all the way to school. Of course, this is not something I have ever done or will ever do. I know (intellectually) that this will not solve the problem.



But it just might amuse me.




Think That'll Do It,




Laurie