Kids and Coping

My kids' lives are in upheaval right now. For starters, we're moving in a few months. They're leaving all their friends and school and everything behind to move to a smaller, older house...closer to cousins, but that's about it as far as they're concerned. They're also dealing with the fact that my father is going through chemotherapy right now, and while my son knows what cancer is, he doesn't really "get it." And there are other things in the mix too. As I was told recently, we're dealing with like three of the top ten stressors a person can go through in their life.

And my kids are, so far, taking it all in stride. There have been some questions, of course, but I think the answers to the ones they've asked have helped them to understand some of the ones they didn't know how to ask. The best part though? They are excited about the move and new bedrooms and decorating and swimming at their aunt's this summer.

That right there is something that I often feel is missing from books about kids/teens. Yes, some kids will kick and scream and gnash their teeth at any change, but others...roll with the punches better than anyone could ever expect. And I say that as the mother of an autistic child--you know, the kid who isn't supposed to deal with change...at all.

The difficult thing is on the odd occasion I see kids like that in books, they aren't consistent. Harry is fine with being a wizard, but is shocked at the moving staircases. Whereas the kids who have always known about Hogwarts oooed and ahhhed the staircases too. One of my editors spoke to me recently about her biggest pet peeve, and it's basically that--when a character does something that goes against all the character building done up to the moment of the scene. Consistency is important to readers because even when people act differently than normal, it's usually still within the realm of their nature.

As for my kids and how they're dealing? I was happily surprised that it wasn't a moment that when against their character. They've always been the type to look for and find silver linings. I think with all the dark this time, fictional characters had prepared me for mine to lose that ability. I thank my lucky stars that didn't happen.

Following Directions Is for Sissies

Today's post isn't really about writing. Well... it is in that I had to write something, but it was a letter, not a book. So hopefully you'll bear with me.

If you follow me on Twitter or Facebook, you’ll see me talk about my kids (The Boy and Mini-Me) every so often. I freaking love my kids. Not just love them because they’re mine but because they crack me up with their awesomeness.

So, it’s parent-teacher conference time and I’m buried in work and RT is coming… and The Boy’s teacher sends homework for the parents. We’re supposed to write a letter to our kid for conferences. It got pushed to the side and forgotten. Until today. Because, you know, it’s due tomorrow. (Procrastination for the win!)

Last year when I had to do this, I had to read the letter to The Boy at conferences. It made his teacher cry (because I’m all eloquent and stuff). So I sit down and say, “All right, I can do this!” For a minute, I debated trying to go funny and do a rant on homework, but I didn’t think that would go over so well, so I did heartfelt again.

I talked about sharing a love of storytelling and what a great brother he is and how he makes me realize that he’s the kind of person I want to grow up to be.

It was a very honest and true letter. I printed it out… and realized there were instructions on what we were supposed to write about. You know, things like what we’re proud of them for (did that), how far they’ve come (meh), and what their goals should be for the rest of the year (are you kidding me?). At first when I saw the instructions, I’d debated re-doing the letter, but when I saw that last bit, I stuffed the one I’d written into the envelope and put it in his backpack to take to school.

You see, teachers are like editors for our kids. They’re the ones who have to point out all the stuff they do wrong. That’s their job (I know because I did it for a while)—they are supposed to make the kids “better.” My job as a parent isn’t to tell him he needs to work more on capitalization and punctuation. I’m supposed to tell him that he’s a shining star because he busts his butt every day. That he’s gone from being special ed, title one, autistic to being completely mainstreamed and gaining ground on his autism every day and applauding the fact that he reads like a fiend. My job is to tell him how freaking awesome he is.

I’m not his editor. Not about this. I have to harp on him about brushing his hair and his teeth cleaning his room. As far as what he’s done in school though? I get to be his biggest fan.

So I decided to screw the “rules.” Because when he’s beside himself frustrated because things don’t come easy to him like they do to the other kids, The Boy won’t care about me telling him about how important proper grammar is. But if we’re both really lucky, he’ll remember that I think he’s perfect.

That’s homework for parents that I can get behind.