Mamma Sandy Says - Middle School Years

Mamma Sandy Says

Middle School Years

   In America, the Middle School years are about 11-14 years of age.  This is one of the toughest times for parents.  Your sweet, kind child has become a teenager!  They're challenging your authority.  Their hormones are kicking in!  Help!

   Both for them and you a lot is changing.  You will need to re discuss older topics.  And there will be new topics, some of which you had never expected, to talk to them about.  For the next few weeks I hope to talk about some of them.

   One of the biggest things to them and you is the idea of respect.  Your children will tell you that respect has to be earned.  I'm not sure where that idea has come from and I'm not sure I like it.

   Hopefully you have been modeling respect for elders and for people in authority (police, etc.).  If not, apologize to them and start now.  You can't teach what you don't live yourself.

   I was raised in a time and place where respect for elders was taught.  It was also a time when "children were to be seen and not heard."  Especially at meals or public gatherings.  At home, when it was just family, I was free to talk and give my opinions, but around older adults I had to keep quiet.  It was rather frustrating.  Especially when I had so many good questions to ask!  But it was a good compromise for the time.  My ex husband was raised the same.

   When it was time to raise our own children we decided to use a variant on how we were raised.  Our children were taught to show respect to grandparents and those in authority.  They quickly figured out how much respect each grandparent or other, older family member needed or deserved.

   My parents divorced when I was 18 and soon after my marriage my father married "the other woman" in the divorce.  Not his smartest choice.  My new stepmother was awful.  Not just because she had actively tried to cause my parents divorce.  No, this was a selfish, evil woman.  We found out later that she had planned to steal everything from my dad once her retirement funds were accessible.  Just evil.

   What does one do in a situation like that?  We chose to limit visitation.  It hurt, but my father was foolishly in love with the woman.  The hard part was that I had to treat Gayle with the respect she deserved as my father's second wife.  Talk about gritting one's teeth!  But I did it.  And I taught my kids to do the same on the rare occasions we went up to visit.

   I remember my kids asking me why they had to be nice to "grandma Gayle?" My kids could see through Gayle's pretense of love for them.   Because she is the wife of my father.  We respect her role as my dad's wife.  Since we had already taught them the concept, it worked.  A policeman may be a good or bad person, we don't know sometimes, but we always have to respect the fact that he is a policemen.  So my family did the right thing and treated Gayle respectfully.  She never changed, but my kids character was formed.  I will note that as soon as my father chose to divorce Gayle there was a happy family reunion.  My kids were able to build a positive relationship with my dad.  He taught my son how to fish, and more importantly, how to be a good man.

   This lesson rolled around again after my divorce.  My ex husband found a second wife.  At first our children did not like this woman.  But I reminded them that they needed to show her the love and respect that she deserved from her position as their father's wife.  Things are better, but it's still a work in progress.

   One potential problem area is that many adults will assume that children should respect them.  In fact, they will demand respect.  Part of that is personal ego.  But it could be how they were raised.  Ask your children to talk to you when this situation happens.  Together you can probably figure out how to deal with it.

   Sooner or later your children will tell you that respect needs to be earned.  It might be a good idea to ask them how they think respect should be earned?  If they are just parroting what they have heard they might not have thought about that yet.  If they have, and can give you an answer, you might want to take the time later on to think about how you measure up.  A good challenge to your child at some point is to ask them how they think they measure up to their own standards?

   A really important thing is to respect your own children.  That will be on their list.  They see themselves as persons deserving respect - and they are!  In middle school years especially they are going to want to have more freedom.  That requires you trust them enough to respect their wishes.  Of course, parental wisdom has to come into play, but you need to respect them enough to listen to them.  NEVER ignore or just blow off what your children are trying to say to you.  They may be being foolish, but you have to respect Them enough to listen.  Ignoring them is not respecting them and you will pay for it in poor choices and poor behavior on their part.  Keep communication channels open!  Treat them like middle school students, not grade school age kids, or babies.

Good luck!  It's not easy, but time spent with your child at this age is crucial!

Freque Factory

Freque Factory

Intro and Start

         I've been wanting to write this for a long time.  These are the stories about my coming of age.  Mostly they revolve around Monique.  She was the center of most of our lives.  I've changed the names to protect us.  The title?  It came from a joke of ours.  Back then, us "hippies" often called ourselves "freaks."  I remember one song that encouraged us to "let our freak flag fly."  We spelled it as a tribute to Monique.  Still pronounced the same.  And we really did feel that the time and place we lived produced freques.  Hence the factory title.

Chapter 1  Beginnings

   There was a group of us that clustered around Monique.  Her house was where so many of our adventures happened, or at least started from.  Her mom was "Ma" to so many of us.  We could count on Ma B to feed us, listen to our troubles, yell at us when when we needed it, and would even offer us a place to crash when some of us had no place else to go.

   But as much as we loved Ma, it was Monique we were really drawn to.

Some of the group had known Monique since grade school days.  Since we went to different schools then, I didn't meet her until 7th or 8th grade.  We've always disagreed which.  And there's no paper trail we could find to verify each others claim.  What we did agree is that we met via Girl Scouting.  Back then, if a young woman was interested in the out-of-doors or boating and her family wasn't, Scouting was one of the few options.  There, a young woman had a chance to be with like-minded girls in a non-judgmental community.  Monique and I met because both of our local school based troops had dissolved-a common occurrence in the middle school years.  That pattern holds true today.  The troop we were part of was a small one, comprised of 5 girls from 4 different schools.  The 5 of us stayed together until we graduated from high school.

   The meetings were at a home just around the corner from Monique's house.  I got into a habit of going there first and after.  Then hanging out at other times.

   Physically Monique was little-5'2" tall and slender.   She was shy, but had was full of energy.  She had a great deal of charisma.  It seemed odd to me that she had self esteem problems since she seemed so pretty to me.

   Our adventures were pretty tame.  Neither of us were able to drive, so we were limited to what we could do locally.  But the potential was there.

Chapter 2 Freshman Year

   High school changes things.  That was certainly true for Monique.  All of a sudden her straight, long, blonde hair was cool.  As was her unique sense of fashion.  She idolized Cher (or Sonny and), so that was the make up style she went for and it suited her.  Her figure had matured as well.  She was slender still, but she had noticeable curves.  The boys especially noticed the latter.  I wasn't so lucky.  Heavyset due to medical stuff, with brown hair just beginning to grow out.  I wasn't really interested in boys yet, but so far they weren't interested in me either.

   Monique found the concept of dating boys interesting.  She didn't have much experience, at first.  Her first experience came on the afternoon of a Girl Scout meeting.  We had met at lunch that day and Monique told me that a good looking guy that was a year older had asked her to join him after school.  Thrilled, she agreed.  Could I please cover for her at the meeting?

   As I had expected, she was late to the meeting.  I had cheerfully lied to the adults in charge, though I was more truthful to some of the girls.  I was concerned because I knew that bad things can happen to girls when alone with guys.  Finally Monique showed up and I had to wait patiently for the details.  With the other girls she passed it off as a mild adventure, but I could tell there was more to it.

   The young man, Scott, had walked with Monique to his home, which was near school.  Neither of his parents were home.  Somehow they had ended up in his bedroom with him kissing her.  This was a new experience and quite enjoyable.  But when his hands started to wander, she called a halt to the activities.  It is a testimony to Monique's charm that Scott did stop.  I think, deep down he was a good guy, despite his later reputation.  Scott even walked Monique to the place where our meeting was.  He became a loyal friend and admirer.  She did date Scott a few times when her schedule allowed, but nothing serious ever became of it and he never again tried to "take advantage of her."

  We don't know what Scott said to his friends, but after that there were always guys hanging around Monique.  None of them got beyond the kissing stage and almost all of them ended up friends.

   I had my first romance about that time too.  Well sort of.  My father was not ready to have me date yet, so there were such limits on our time together that the romance was doomed even as it started.  Eventually the young man moved on to others.  I think we kissed once.  I wasn't impressed.  Looking back, it was probably the first kiss for both of us.

  

Moma Sandy Says - Stories about Kids

Momma Sandy Says

Stories About Kids

     With all the varied things I've done in my life, I've been around a lot of kids.  They range from truly evil to really amazing.  Here are some stories about some of the ones I've run into recently and a story from the past.

   First I want to look at some kids I don't like.  These are the ones who "push my buttons."  Recently I met a brother and sister combo.  The brother was older, maybe 10 years old.  A larger kid and clearly a bit of a bully.  He kept trying to cause trouble with the other boys his age in the home school group that was touring with.  Luckily his mom was keeping a close eye on him.  His kid sister was remarkable, but not in a good way.   Probably around 8 years old.  Cute, smart, but determined to have her own way.  Mostly she was curious.  Possibly ADHD.  She couldn't keep still.  She was with the group, but she clearly had her own agenda.  She was everywhere.  I was surprise to not find her inside of some of the exhibits, which she clearly would have done if mom hadn't been closely watching her.  I felt sorry for the mom.  Two very different, but problematic children.  Often problems are the parents fault.  I don't know in this case.

   A few weeks ago I had to deal with two young men (around 12) that highly irritated me.  Even after seeing the "Staff only" sign.  Even after being told they were not allowed to go upstairs, they did.  They were prime examples of what I consider self entitled individuals.  They saw themselves so special that rules clearly did not apply to them.  Of course they wanted to ignore me yelling at them (politely) to come back downstairs.  But that's sort of impossible.

   To my amazement, as I was beginning to chastise them (What does this sign say?) the father showed up, told me "he would take care of this," and whisked the boys out of the building.  He didn't say anything to them on the way out.  I'm willing to bet he never did say anything.  Those boys are going to be a problem, if they aren't already.  They don't respect authority.  I bet their teachers are already pulling out their hair.  And where did they learn this behavior?  Probably from dad (and possibly mom as well).  Self entitlement tends to be learned behavior.

   My third example comes from this past weekend.  While working at a Renaissance Faire I ran into a young man, now about 15.  I first met this kid when he was around 8.  His parents were going through a divorce and he was spending the weekend at faire with dad.  He was letting his disapproval of the divorce known by a lot of really bad behavior.  I met him when he decided that he wanted to walk onto an archery range that was in use.  Because he had been told he couldn't.  The range master was so upset that I escorted this young man back to his camp.  Final straw for dad.  That kid was not allowed out of camp without dad or dad's rep the rest of the weekend.  Good call dad.  Hope the kid improves.

   Fast forward about 3-4 years.  I was doing a late night security sweep and this kid was with the other young teens, trying to avoid curfew.  Not on my watch.  He was trying to convince some of the younger teen girls to sneak out to hang out.  Nope.

   And then there was this weekend.  I was with friends in the food court when the young teen herd came and sat down with us.  The same young man, now around 15 was holding court.  Others may have wanted to say stuff, but he wasn't letting anyone else hijack his conversation.  Since I was right there, I heard the conversation.  Don't think he recognized me.  I listened to this kid brag about himself.  He was talking about the role he took in the daily battle last year.  He didn't.  Not old enough to be on the field, except as a banner bearer-and they don't fight.  And a bunch of other stuff.  What really got me was when someone with knowledge challenged him slightly on one topic.  To cover himself, he started talking about how someone named Jack had caused his group so many problems.  I had to leave then.  Jack was his uncle who had died when he was much younger.  Yes, Jack had caused his group problems, but he wasn't some random guy to blame-he was his uncle!

   The conversation I had overheard bothered me.  Then I realized that the young man was turning out just like his father.   Both of them are pompass asses hiding wounded souls.

   I also spent time around kids I like.  The children in my own group are well behaved, even though they are full of energy.  The parents spend energy keeping an eye on them and keeping them in line.

   I also want to talk about some of the Viking reenactor's kids.  Most of them are great kids.  There's always either a parent with the herd, or somewhere close.  The kids don't leave camp without a parent (and the gate guard) knowing where they're going.

   One particular Viking kids spends time around our camp.  He loves to "raid" our food.  He's even talked our guild mistress into removing the skin of an orange he's raided from us.  You note, I'm not saying steal.  We give him the food.  It's all part of the game.  In return he's polite and helpful and plays well with our kids.  For a 6 year old he's smart and charming, and kind.  He has informed us that "I'm not cute!  I'm fierce!"  Only in his own mind.

   I know this child's parents.  In fact, I remember when he was born.  Good people who are doing well with him.  That kid may end up owning half the world before he decides to do something else.

And a story from back when.  Growing up, my best friend had two younger siblings (boy and girl) who were adopted.  It was no secret.  Even I knew.  The parents had taken in foster kids for years and chose to keep the two siblings to raise with their own daughter.  There was no difference between the kids-all were siblings.

   The boy was the youngest and when he was 13 he was having typical young teen problems.  He wasn't doing well in school and was starting to hang out with the wrong kids.  Those "wrong kids" were white.  And then, the young man "found out" he was adopted.  He really started going downhill.  His parents did what they could, but it was a tough battle.

   As it sometimes happens, right about then, the birth mother of the two siblings got out of prison.  Somehow, even though she had signed away her rights, and should have been able to find them, she showed up at the house.  The young man embraced his Hispanic, drug using mother and her culture.  His sister followed soon after.

   The next thing I knew my friend and I were having to go to safe houses for the local gang in our town's barrio to find the brother to drag him home.  He joined the gang and then we couldn't get him home.  Rumors were (later confirmed) that he was helping with illegal activities.  His adoptive parents, with a broken heart, had to give up the adoption-to give their son back to the county.  The daughter changed her friends too.  Once her goal had been to become a nurse.  Now she wanted to move out and become a welfare mother.  She did too.

  Their lives were changed by circumstances.

The more I'm around children and teens, the more I look closely at where poor behavior comes from.  Did the poor parenting cause it?  Were there circumstances that set off a chain of events?  I think all we can do as parents is to do the best we know how and to get help when we need it.

Family Stories - Girl Scouting Part 6

Family Stories

Girl Scouting Part 6

   One of the highlights of my Junior year was my CIT II experience.  Probably due to the number of girls wanting to take part in the Counselor in Training experience they added a CIT program at Camp Cielo.  I had a choice.  Take a CIT II program at a place that was experienced, or return to my beloved to take part in a pilot program?  Not much of a choice really.  Application turned in, interview done, and I was selected to return to Camp Cielo as a CIT.  Made me really happy.

   Towards the end of the year I attended a council wide senior scout program.  I remember spending time with Shane and our friends.  Shane had us falling down laughing with her story about her big debutante ball.  She was normally graceful, but that night, walking down the stairs at her family home, she tripped and almost fell.  Her parents were embarrassed and her escort didn't know what to do.  The evening got better once the two of them left for the event, but it was still pretty epic.

Going back up to Cielo was odd and wonderful.  I was so glad to be going back to a place that had so many happy memories for me.  Unlike Singing Pines, instead of being one of a dozen CIT IIs, I was one of 4.  I was the only CIT II.  We had our own unit and counselor.  Instead of being assigned as a junior counselor for one unit, I was all over the place.  Where ever they needed an extra junior counselor they'd send us.

   One of the highlights was introducing a new generation of scouts to "Tajar Tales."  I've since introduced that book to others, but that was the first time.  The whole time I was up there I got to see the camp as a staff member.  I even got to go into the staff only areas.  After working with a whole troop of girls for a year I was much more relaxed with the campers.  I was hopeful that my goal was in sight.

My senior year of high school was pretty awful.  It started with elections at my troop.  Mrs. B3's younger daughter was now starting her second year in the troop.  Mrs. B3 wanted her and her friends to start moving up in leadership.  Monique didn't get any leadership position.  She was ok with that.  I was up for president against Pat.  It was close, but Pat won.  I ended up Chantyman (song leader) a mostly honorary position.  Not even patrol leader.  I felt overlooked.  I did get to keep my position of Gam rep, though Mrs. B3's choice had to come with me ("to be trained").

   Although it wasn't directly related to scouting, my parents marriage was in bad shape (though I wasn't aware of it at the time).  It hurt when my dad told me that they couldn't afford to send me to a 4 year college.  I would have been ok with being turned down, but my parents didn't even give me that chance.  So community college was my only option.

   Soon after the first of the year rumors started that the Boy Scouts had sold Camp Cielo and that our Council would not be able to rent it anymore.  I was so hoping the rumors were false.

   I was caring less and less about my Girl Scout Troop.  Gam was ok.  I barely attended Newport Dunes.  My mind was looking forward.

   And then the news came about which camps our Council would be staffing that year.  Cielo was not on the list.   I could have applied for Singing Pines, but  I knew the competition would be still and my heart just wasn't in it.  No more Cielo.  A dream couldn't come true.

  Before I knew it, the school year was over and the 5 of us had out "bridging" ceremony.  It was supposed to be a "welcome to adulthood" thing.  It felt more like "don't let the door hit you on your behind as you leave."  Scouting was moving on, but I was no longer part of it.

   I think I would have been more depressed, but that summer I started working my first job (that wasn't working for my parents).  Between that and hanging out with Monique and friends, I was too busy to mourn the loss of a dream any more.

I never have forgotten though.  I did work as a church camp counselor many years later.  And as an adult counselor for science camps.  It wasn't the same.

Mamma Sandy Says - Sex Info and Young Children

Mamma Sandy Says

Sex Info and Young Children

      The topic of sex is such a tricky one in America.  There is a portion of the population that does not want any information to be given to children.  I think the fear is that if children know the mechanics of sex, they will want to do it.  The first fact is that children aren't physically capable of actual intercourse.  But they can simulate sex.  And they probably will, unless they are trained not to.

   How do young children know about sex?  Hello!  Internet.    And unfortunately, what's out there tends to be porn, which is not real sex.  The concept of love and intimacy and often missing and what's left is just the mechanics.  Something else to remember is that what is portrayed, besides lacking real relationship, can often be considered "kinky."  As an adult, don't care.  But children watching all of the fetish stuff?  Not a good idea!

   Let me set up what I consider standards.  I think adults having sex with children is wrong.  It's a violation of basic trust issues.  Encouraging children in sexual acts, even in play, is wrong.  Not keeping children safe from sexual predators is wrong. 

   With all that said, let's look at the lighter side of teaching our young children about sex.  For me, the goal with young children is to have them view displays of affection between adults (parents being the primary example) as being normal between two people who love each other.  Hugging and kissing go in this category.  Extended kissing and fondling, in my opinion, should happen when private.  Kids are capable of understanding that sometimes parents need time alone to let each other know how much they care for each other.

   One of the stereotypes is that of parents who spend all day dealing with life stuff and want to spend time with each other, but have children.  Sometimes it seems like they have to schedule time for sex.  And, of course, that can be interrupted by the needs of the children.

  It is possible to teach children that there are times when their parents need their own time.  A lock on the parental bedroom door is a good thing-use it!  It will save you a lot of embarrassment in future years.  Your children need access to you, but they an also learn to postpone their needs-at least to give you time to put clothes on.

So do you explain about sex?  And if so, what do you tell your children?  I do want to be upfront and say that young adults need to understand about sex.  What it's for, how it's done, how to prevent unwanted results, and how to avoid sex if unwanted.  But I don't think young children need to understand all that.

   I think that what you tell a young child about sex depends on their age, their culture, and a very large part, on the child himself (or herself).  They should all understand that sex is an adult thing.  Having a special person in their life (often called a boyfriend or girlfriend) is normal.  And children will play that they are going to marry that person.  It's a variation on children role playing being adults.  Adding the concept of sex is often too much information, too soon.  Let children learn about what it might mean to be "mommy and daddy" without the physical.

     And let's be real.  To many young children, even the idea of kissing another child seems "gross."  The mechanics of sex are too gross to be believed to a child.

   Not a lot of children will want to understand what sex really is.  Once they understand that it is something that adults do, and they will understand it when they're older, they're usually ok.  It is a rare child who feels the need for more knowledge.

   Along the way I had to deal with one of those.  A child I knew asked me, in all sincerity about sex.   NOTE:  when the child you are dealing with asks you this question seriously, find out why they are asking.  What they want to know might be handled with a simple explanation.  However, it also might be a case of sexual abuse.

   In the case of this 5 year old, he had a girl friend and wanted to make sure he wouldn't get her pregnant.  I somehow managed to keep a straight face while assuring him that at his age he was physically unable to get his friend pregnant.  I also congratulated him on his concern for the well being of his girlfriend.  

   Not entirely assured, this young man insisted on the full explanation.  Knowing him, I knew that he was intellectually able to understand the mechanics as long as I put in a few safety parameters.  First I made him promise not to tell his friends.  They (and their parents!) would not understand.  Then I warned him that it was one of the grossest things ever.  He still insisted.  When he found out that sex meant putting his penis into a girls vagina he was appropriately grossed out.  Problem solved, for now.

  And that is so much the key.  Keeping your children safe while giving them the knowledge that is appropriate for their age and maturity level.

Family Stories - Girl Scouting Part 5

Family Stories

Girl Scouting, Part 5

   My junior year of high school was interesting.  For one thing, it was 1969-70.  The world was changing around us.  One of the bigger changes was the use of recreational drugs.  While Monique and I did not indulge in such, so many of our friends were experimenting by then.  A large chunk of our free time during high school was spent in talking down people high on acid or uppers, and keeping them from being busted by school officials.

   Girl Scouting was infected with this as well.  I discovered this at a leadership weekend for our Council in the fall.  It was up in the mountains (and bitterly cold!) at one of our camps.  Because of transportation issues I was late and barely found space for my stuff in a cabin(?) filled with people I didn't know.  So I went in search of people I did.

   I found Shane and some of the others from her circle of friends.  Mostly not sober.  Shane had been taking "downers" and was clearly out of it.  Then a messenger came in.  The adults in charge had decided that they wanted to show us a video or something, despite the fact that we had all been released for the evening (it was around 8 p.m.).  Somehow we got Shane up and down the road to the main building.

   It had to have been such a shock to the adult leadership.  Here was the cream of senior Girl Scouting-and a sizable percentage of them were stoned.  They showed the video and then sent us back to our cabins while they decided what to do.

   While at the cabin I finally found out Shane's story.  Shane's parents were wealthy.  They lived in a mansion.  Shane and her younger siblings mostly lived upstairs in the care of servants.  The rules were very strict.  Father was a brilliant CEO and expected top marks and a good college followed by a good career and a brilliant marriage.  Mother was an old school socialite.  And she expected the same for her children, especially the girls.  Girl Scouting was the only real freedom Shane had.  And she only got to do that because she had argued that it rounded out her college application and gave her access to opportunities not otherwise available.  It was virtually impossible for her to have friends over.

   When Shane went to work for Camp Singing Pines after finishing CIT II, it was because the Camp director understood Shane's need for a place to stay.  She was a natural leader, smart, funny, all sorts of good things.  But because her family life was so restrictive, sometimes she choose to use drugs.  She laughed when she told me about it.  She would have preferred to drink, but her parents measured the liquor bottles.  Her mom never notices when Shane took some of her mom's depressants.

   The real problem was that Shane did not want to be, and was in no way suited for the life her parents wanted for her.  While generally graceful at everything I saw her do, she froze up and was clumsy when required to attend social functions with her mom.  She hated wearing the make-up, dresses, and such required.  Shane's kid sister loved all that stuff and Shane was glad.  It meant that her mother would have at least one daughter to follow her mold.  Shane just wanted to be herself.

   It came out that the reason for this weekends binge was a deal Shane had struck with her parents.  They wanted her to go to USC.  She wanted to go to a small school out of state that was really good for her major.  Her parents had agreed to pay one year's tuition at Shane's school of choice if she agreed to do the whole debutante thing that year-ball and all.  She had agreed to that deal.

   There were repercussions from that weekend.  Shane and several others either had to resign their leadership positions or show active improvement.  I think Shane got her parents to pay for therapy.  She got to keep her role at girl leader of Gam.  No one ever talked to me about any of it.  I guess having a leader who was a Council official helped.  No one from her troop could possibly have that sort of problem.  A lot they knew.

   That year, since I recognized my own lack of leadership skills with younger girls, I entered the Leader Aid program.  Another girl and I were assigned to a local Junior girl troop "to help out."  This was a troop for 5th grade girls from my elementary school.  Their leaders were nice enough, but no prior experience in Girl Scouting, or camping.  My partner and I knew that, most likely, unless something changed, that troop would probably dissolve in the next two years.

   The apex of the year was their camping trip.  Despite all the time we spent prepping, the girls forgot everything we taught them.  It was a lot of work helping them put up their borrowed (from Council) little tents.  And a lot of work helping them cook and clean up.  It was with great exhaustion that I finally collapsed into my own little tent.  Only to find out that the World's Loudest Cricket had decided to serenade me all night.  I couldn't find that noisy insect the next morning, which was a good thing for him.  When I got home I discovered he had hitched a ride home in my duffel bag.  I escorted him downstairs to the flower beds where he annoyed my neighbors.  Eventually he did find a lady cricket, because we had several generations of loud crickets after.

   I should mention Newport Dunes here.  The Dunes was a camping/water sports area open to the public as part of the back bay of Newport Beach.  The area was privately controlled, with security.  Our little area of Girl Scout troops would go for a weekend every year.  As the only senior troop in our area, our Troop pretty much ran the event.  Which meant Mrs. B3 ran the event.

   The year before, for her own petty reasons, Mrs. B3 chose Monique and I to make the ceremonial fire for Sat. night.  It had to be beautiful looking.  And as Mrs. B3, in her moment of glory, led the assembled girls in singing "Rise Up O Flame" (traditional GS song for the event) the two of us would enter from opposite ends, and with one match each, would light the fire.  Mrs. B3 was clear that she would tolerate no failure on our part.  I think she expected us to fail and planned on humiliating us.  She didn't know us very well.  We had the wood already.  We spent much of the afternoon looking in trash cans for the greasiest paper we could find.  When the others were fixing dinner, we carefully placed the greasy paper on the inside of our lovely structure (built according to regs), with one corner quietly sticking out on each end.  When the moment came, Monique and I lit our ends and stepped back.  The thing went up like a fireball.  I think the front row of girls had their eyebrows singed.  It was one of my pyrotechnic moments of glory.  We didn't get in trouble and Mrs. B3 never asked us to set up a camp fire again.

   But our Junior year we had a different adventure.  For several years now Monique had developed a pattern while at Newport Dunes.  After morning chores, we'd grab some lunch and go for a hike around the back bay.  We'd be gone for hours.  We always told our leaders where we were going.  And we were always back on time.  Mrs. B3 especially didn't like this, but there wasn't much she could do about it.

   But our Junior year Monique had a minor problem.  She had bought some trendy new underwear and it wasn't working out.  They were paper underwear.  There are good reasons why the trend was not successful.  Monique had several choices.  She could:  1.  Call her mom and somehow arrange for new underwear.  2.  Talk to our leaders about the problem.  3.  Go without underwear for the weekend.  or 4.  Hike over to the shopping center about half a mile away.  We, of course, went with #4.

   Monique and I were a good partnership.  She would think of amazing things to do.  I would figure out how to do them without getting caught.  She would get us started, and I would keep us going when she would start to freak out.  This adventure was no different.  After chores Saturday morning, while one of our friends distracted the gate guard, we calmly strolled out of the site.  We could see the shopping center, across some fields, so off we went.  Nasty weeds!  But we got there and even had time for a soda before Monique started to freak out and we needed to head  back.  We actually got back to site early, and had time for a quick walk around the bay.  I don't think our leaders ever knew we were off site.

Momma Sandy Says - Grief

Momma Sandy Says

Grief

   Grief is something we all have to deal with at various times in our lives.  It affects children too.  Here are some ideas about how to help your children get through those times.

   First, let's look at what is causing the grief.  It doesn't have to be the death of a person.  It can be the death of a pet.  Or the loss or destruction of a favored toy.  I remember grieving when my favorite teddy-rabbit  was finally too worn to continue keeping.  That stuffed friend had been with me through some tough times!  Respect the cause of their grief.  You may know that they will forget the loss of a few Lego pieces after a while, but for now, the grief is real and respect that.

Understand that you are the parent.  Sometimes you have to set aside your own pain to help your child.  Don't forget to take time for your own grief, but your children need help that sometimes you are the only one that can provide.  This includes not striking out at your children, physically or verbally, just because you are grieving.  That's important.

Do not judge your children because they aren't grieving when you think they should, or the amount you think they should.  Like all of us, each one of them will respond differently to loss.  It could be that they don't understand what death means.  It could be that they just aren't as close to the person who has died.  It could be that they understand, but they've made a conscious  decision not to think about it right now. Or it could just be that the game they're currently playing is more important to them.

Special needs kids have specific needs during grieving times.  What comes to mind first is the autism spectrum.  These children honestly do not understand the social clues and do not know how to act appropriately.  If you know this to be the case, don't take them to the funeral, or if you do so, make arrangements to be able to take them away from the crowd as needed.

   

The age of a child and their ability to comprehend is important when dealing with grief.  How you explain death and death rituals will vary.  Look for a "teachable moment" to explain death, preferably when you yourself are not dealing with it.  A teachable moment can be when you child asks about death or heaven.  Or when someone they don't really know (relative of a classmate or such) dies.  With that explanation in place, it makes it easier to explain to your child when it is an emotion laden death.

Side note:  Once your child does understand about death and death rituals be prepared for pet funerals.  To your child, that pet deserves a proper send off and the ability to grieve.  But also be prepared for a quick recovery.  Have a snack ready for after the "funeral."

So what do you tell your child about death?  A lot of that depends on your own spiritual beliefs.  I was raised Christian, so I grew up with the concepts of heaven and hell and going to a better place.  For me as an adult, that helps.  Use words and concepts that are clear and that they will understand.  Age appropriate.  I personally don't like the idea of teaching really young children that Grandma might go to hell now that she's dead.  If my step mother (who my children named The Wicked Witch) had died while she was still married to my dad, I probably would have told my children that she was now in God's hands.

Teach your children what is appropriate behavior at a funeral.  If you know they may have problems with sitting still that long, either don't bring them, or make arrangements to be able to take them away for a time.

If it's going to be an open casket funeral, don't bring your children unless it's a family imperative.  I had to go through that as a child and it took me a long time to remember that person as they were before death.  Try to avoid unnecessary emotional scarring.

But don't sugar coat death either.  It does mean that someone you care for is gone.  You will not see them again in this world.  That's not fun.  It hurts.  And that's ok.

Try to balance the traditions of the family with the emotional needs of your child.  Do what's best for them.  I remember a counseling session where I was trying to help a school age child who's family took her through post-Katrina Louisiana for a family funeral.  Seeing the damage from the hurricane made the funeral experience so much worse for that child.  She was dealing with nightmares, couldn't concentrate in school, etc.  Could have been avoided!!!

   Watch for the symptoms above.  If your child is having problems after a family death, get them help.  

I guess the bottom line is:  use your brains and don't let your own grief overwhelm you own common sense!

Here's a story to illustrate several points I've been making.  Many years ago, in the middle of a birthday party for my son, we got a phone call telling us that a beloved grandmother had died out of state.  We would have to leave early the next morning to be there in time for the services.  There was no way we wouldn't go.  Hazel had loved our son the only time she met him (though she was looking forward to us having a daughter.  I think she foresaw the one we have.).  Despite our grief and the lack of time, we did not cancel the party.  In fact, I kept it going while my husband made our reservations and packed.  Soon after the guest left and I packed for my son and I.

   The funeral was rough for us, but we had to remember our son.  He was too young to remember Hazel or even to understand what was going on.  During the graveside portion I took him for a walk away from the site, since it was my husband's grandmother.  We treated the trip like a quick visit to see relatives in that town.  He understood that people were sad, but he decided to not let it bother him.  There were new people to talk to and we had packed some new toys from our usual stash.  I don't think he even remembers the trip now, and that's alright.  Our son needed to be there, and we kept him from unnecessary emotional scarring.  And in our own way we dealt with our own needs to grieve.

Family Stories - Girl Scouting, Part 4

Family Stories

Girl Scouting, Part 4

   The summer of 1969 was remarkable.  In it I had my Counselor-in-Training, Part I at Singing Pines, and I went to Hawaii for 3 weeks.  Both were life changing events in different ways.

  Singing Pines was first.  This was me at a different residence camp, where most folks there were seasoned veterans.  Or at least seemed to be.  Most of us were going into our junior year of high school, though I think 3 were entering their senior year.  There were 12 of us in our own little unit.  We had our own unit leader.  Also staying with us were some of the "extra" staff, like the horse counselor and such.  All of them were good people and easy to talk to.

   I didn't know any of the other 11 girls, though I grew to know them very well in the several weeks we spent together.  We all became friends, despite the many differences between us.  One of them, Sue, became a very good friend for several years.

   How do I explain these young women, now lost to me for so many years?  There was Chris, our unnamed leader.  She was sensible, patient, smart, and had a natural gift for leadership.  Then there was Susie,  We could always count on her to do something outrageous.  A natural blonde with a cheery personality, yet she was kind and caring.  She usually got into adventures with Jan, a slender brunette, who was quieter, and more thoughtful.  Trinka always seemed out of place.  Now I'd call it a lack of social skills, but she was smart and caring.  Val lived in the inner city, though she was white.  She had the toughness needed to live there, but was one of the best of us at helping the campers.  And so it went.

   We slept on cots arranged in a circle, under the sky.  We kept our gear in two real teepees.  Luckily it never rained.  We often stayed up late, just talking in our beds about everything and nothing.  Susie was often the first to fall asleep, unless she had something on her mind.  Then her bubbly nature would keep her, and us, up for quite a while.  Between us and the counselors staying in our unit there were several guitars so we sang a lot.  Mostly folk music.

   Our days and nights varied.  Sometimes we would have lessons on how to be a counselor.  Sometimes we'd help other counselors out with younger girls (especially when they were short staffed due to days off).  Sometimes we'd help the other counselors we lived with.  Sometimes we had adventures just for ourselves.  It was supposed to be fun, after all.

  So we got to hike down to the lake unit to take out the canoes.  We swam almost every day. Shane was in her second year of CIT and had chosen to work at the pool.  Once she finished her CIT II, she would be hired as another pool counselor, thus giving her a place to live the rest of the summer.  I didn't yet know what that was all about.

  We also got to go on an overnight hike away from camp.  That was an adventure.  While our sleeping bags and such were transported to the site, we had to hike.  It wasn't a bad hike, though it was up and down pretty vertically.  What did me in was the snake (probably the baby rattlesnake that had been seen in the area) that went shooting across the trail, between my legs!  That triggered an asthma attack in me and I had to be driven the rest of the way to the site.  I was able to hike back the next day (less uphill which I like least), but the whole adventure is rather a blur to me.  Stupid asthma!

   Living up at camp the way we were, we were pretty oblivious to what was going on in the outside world, so it was a surprise one morning when our staff woke us up early.  After a short hike we made it to the main camp area in time to hear Apollo 11 take off.  There was a rocket finally going to the moon!  I think my dad and I had watched every take off since the space program started.  And we were going home the day of the moon landing!  But first we had to survive the inner city kids.

   One of the thing the camp did, in between sessions of CITs was to have a weekend where inner city Girl Scouts could come camping, probably for the first time.  In fact, I'm sure for the first time.  The CIT I's were pretty much in charge of the girls, since the girl's troop leaders didn't know anything either.  Most of the rest of the staff (except for pool, kitchen, etc.) had days off.  They assigned two of us CIT's per troop and we all crossed our fingers.

   This little weekend was probably one of the most humbling of my life so far.  I soon came to realize that I just didn't have the skills to lead a group of campers.  My partner wasn't much better.  In retrospect, having us work with inner city girls at that stage of our training was, in most cases, beyond our skill set.  But it did cause us to seriously rethink our goals of becoming counselors.  I know it did me!  

   We had closing evaluations, and to my embarrassment, I started crying.  I really couldn't explain why to my leader.  I felt like a failure.  Were my dreams of returning to Cielo to go up in flames?

   One story to explain the cultural gap between our campers and most of us.  We had brought all the troops together for an evening campfire, a Girl Scout tradition.  The visitors were nervous, but ok.  Then a bat swooped down (probably in search of food) and then took off.  Screaming about vampire bats, almost half the visitors took off running.  In the dark, up in the mountains.  The campfire program was delayed while we found the missing girls and leaders and tried to calm them down.  Some of my girls, I'm convinced, still believed that they were about to be attacked by vampires, even going back home.

   I somehow survived all that.  We all managed to pack and clean up our unit. Goodbyes and promises to get together again.   We went back down the hill in the buses that brought the new campers up.  The whole time the bus driver (we fit into one bus) had the radio on.  We heard the Apollo 11 capsule land safely land on the moon!  Whew!  It was a race to see if we could get home before the actual moon walk.  My parents were waiting for me and we wasted no time in heading home.  I think my dad might have even broken some speed limits.  But yes, a few minutes after getting home (and me still in my camp clothes) I watched a man step our of a space ship and land on the moon.  It was a bit surreal, but still amazing.

   A few weeks later it was time for my first airplane ride.  My first trip to Hawaii.  I was excited.  Monique's parents drove the two of us, since my parents had to work.  I'm going to find my journal notes and write about this experience in more details later, but it was a trip of a lifetime.  Twenty-five girls (mostly high school juniors and seniors), 9 adults, 1 son of Mrs. B3, 5 pop top campers (with stoves and such), gone for 3 weeks to the Islands.  We spent 7 days on the big island of Hawaii, 5 on Maui, 3 of Kaui, and 5 days in Honolulu on the island of Oahu.  We camped everywhere except for in Honolulu.  There we rented several furnished apartments near Waikiki Beach.  All of us were split into groups of 5.  We traveled in the campers in our groups, we cooked in our groups, etc.  We were allowed to request who we would be with, but final decisions were made by the leaders, specifically Mrs. B3.  So I traveled with Monique, Jeannie (a year older and a close friend of Monique's), Pat, and Sue.  The latter two had been with Monique and I since our merged troop had formed, and we were close, but both of them were much more conservative than the freewheeling hippie types the other 3 of us were.  I think Mrs. B3 put them with us to try to keep us out of mischief.  What ended up happening was that those two spent as much time as possible with the chaperones driving our camper and tried to pretend we didn't exist.

   Big surprise to our leaders, Monique and I weren't the biggest troublemakers.  Mrs. B3 kept an eye on us and didn't watch the other girls as closely as she should.  No real problems occurred, but some of the older girls did go on unauthorized dates a few nights!

   The Big Island of Hawaii was amazing!  I get a bit too close to a volcano vent and the gasses got to me.  I figured it was Pele warning me.  Took several hours for my breathing to return to normal.  Maui was frustrating in that we didn't get to do what we wanted that much.  I fell in love with Kaui.  Especially a trail head at the end of the road.  I promised myself that someday I would go up that trail.  And many years later, I did!  Honolulu was a big city.  It was hard for the leaders to keep track of all of us there.  After time on beaches on the other islands it was hard to be excited about Waikiki Beach.  Crowded, and not even a good beach!  It was also near a R&R station for soldiers serving in the Vietnam War.  My older brother had been there already and was due to go back.  I remember one day seeing a young soldier just standing there on the beach, kicking the sand.  It was clear that his mind was not there.  It brought reality back to me in a heartfelt thud.  I was glad it was almost time to go home.

   Now my ancestry is almost all northern European.  I don't tan.  During the 3 weeks I was really careful and managed to become about 1/2 shade darker than I normally am.  So I was not happy when my father greeted me at the airport with the comment, "What happened to you?  Spend all your time under a palm tree?"  Granted, my friends were all sporting lovely tans..  I did eventually forgive him.

A few weeks after we got back, Monique and I got together and talked about the coming year.  We had a rare moment of psychic clarity and predicted that either Monique or I would get elected as the new troop president (girl position).  And just before school started the troop voted Monique in as our new President.  None of the older girls wanted the position and it was a slap in the face of Mrs. B3.  I got elected patrol leader.  The next year was going to be interesting.