I have just emerged from hillbilly hell.
I have no one to talk to. Writing can be like therapy, and I am extremely depressed now. Everyone says that they are so proud of me because I am graduating from college and I did it all while raising two daughters. That's fine and good, but graduation wasn't the goal. A decent living is the goal, and I have yet to reach that. It's a step in the right direction, one that I know will open many doors for me, but the goal is still elusive.
I have considered going to therapy. I just don't know how much it will cost, and I really can't justify any cost right now when Andy is walking around with all his health needs.
I just don't know what we did to them.
Yes, I am thankful for everything they did for us. They let us rent out their place for cheap and had it fully furnished. We were extremely grateful for that. Andy warned me before we even got there that they would be control freaks. He wanted me to stay up in Frisco with the girls for the year. He wanted to stay with his parents and come visit on the weekends. This was so outside of what I considered to be OK that I refused. Family doesn't split up like that. Ever. I see now, though, why he considered that in the first place.
When you are accused of doing so many things that aren't even true. When you are called a "lier" by an idiot who cannot even spell the word. My god, it has been awful.
I could handle the moving out to the boonies and living in a mobile home. It was only temporary, I would tell myself, this was like a long vacation (ha!). I was actually glad to be alone with my family for the first time in a long time. This soon left, though, and I realized that I was stuck in the middle of the mosquito-infested woods with two little girls and nothing to do. It was very depressing, and I had to get out. It was around that time that Andy's school offered me a job, so I took it.
The job is an hour away, so we wake the girls up every morning. Emma is going to Pre-K and Lizzie first went to a daycare across the street from the high school where we work, and then when that didn't work out, she would stay with our next-door neighbors. It's funny how before I started working I would try to get our kids together for a playgroup. What did I get in return? The rudest look like I was crazy. Frisco and Splendora are two very different places.
I don't understand how you can live next door to someone for so long, how you are both stay-at-home moms with young children, how your husbands were both best friends in high school and how you can not become friends? I tried. This woman is straight up evil.
I always had my doubts about her goodness. She always seemed nice, but niceness can be used as a fake veil. A very, very thin veil. Truly nice people don't throw temper tantrums about minor things. Apparently, by getting packages delivered to the place where we were staying and paying rent, we were "using their mailbox." I don't think she knows how to use words, because that clearly makes no sense. It is not my fault if the mailman is nice and delivers the paper mail with the boxes. Get a freaking mailbox!
I don't think I will ever understand why this was such a big deal. It is so bizarre I'm sure it will be comical in a couple years. Now, though, I am still in shell shock.
On Friday after work, we drove home to finish packing up and cleaning the place. Keep in mind we had been traveling up to Frisco to move our things for the past three weeks, and this weekend is the fourth. We are in the middle of packing when we receive a very loud and rude knock on the door. It is Michelle and she wants rent. Fine. We were only there for 7 out of the 31 days of the month, so I tell Andy to pro-rate it for that amount. He says that he might just pay the full month because he doesn't want any trouble. I say that that's ridiculous. Once again, I overestimated the sanity of these people.
Andy hands her a check for the pro-rated amount, plus an extra $100 to cover anything that they might find "broken" with the place (more on that later...). She starts throwing a conniption fit and calls Linda immediately, claiming that we were trying to "sneak out" while they were going camping.
1) We didn't even remember that they were going camping.
2) They really think that the world revolves around them
3) We were simply taking advantage of the 3-day weekend just like everybody else! Really!
Sneaking out? If we were "sneaking out," we must be the worst ninjas ever... I mean seriously.
All of this because I finally spoke up for ourselves last week when Linda was complaining about "trash." She and Michelle must think that we have nothing better to do then to leave from Liberty (an hour away), or Frisco (4 hours away) to go pick up the trash that their dogs rip open after we put it out. It never fails! We put our trash out, and their stupid dogs come over, rip open the bags and go through everything, making a huge mess. Now, let me ask you something, if your neighbor's dog made a mess on your property whose responsibility would it be to clean it up? It would be completely unfathomable for the neighbor to text you while you were at work asking you to come clean it up ASAP because it wouldn't be your responsibility! It would be the responsibility of the dog owner! Either build a fence, put it on a leash, or put it inside. Several people have told me that I should call animal control, but I wouldn't do that.
Anyway, so last week after driving the four hours to Frisco, I had just laid my head on my pillow when I hear the annoying "ding" of my phone alerting me to a new text message. Who is it? Linda. Bitching about the trash. And she couldn't even spell my fucking name right. "Andy and Kristin" it read. Really? I've been married to Andy for almost 6 years now. We have been renting from you for six months, giving you checks with my name clearly spelled and we are Facebook friends. How can you not spell my fucking name?
The first text I send her says, "My name is Kristen."
I don't know how they could not understand what I was saying, but she then sent a stupid text about it being a group message yada yada, I don't even think she understands what I am saying.
I swear, it's so stupid, I can't talk to it.
I then rationally explain everything I have been wanting to say for weeks. I say what should be obvious, that if your dog makes a mess of someone else's property that it is your responsibility to clean it up. I swear, these people make me feel like a genius.
She then replies by going off the handle like a stupid redneck would. "Oh, and I haven't cashed all of your checks, you're welcome!" Fuck you, bitch. You held on to all of our checks for 5 1/2 months before you decided to start cashing them. We had no clue what was going on. That is not a nice thing to do for someone. You hung on to them and told us nothing. We were left in limbo wondering if they were going to go through or not. We thought, "Maybe she's being nice!" but there really was no way to tell. And how the fuck did your bank allow you to deposit expired checks?!! Fucking backwoods redneck fucks.
Anyway, so now according to her and Facebook (because nobody ever lies on Facebook...) we are sneaking out in the middle of the night, without paying (we paid everything in full with $100 to spare), and have "trashed the place" (we stayed there until 2:30 AM cleaning and getting everything out of there), we have written "hot checks" (they were fine when we wrote them, almost 6 months before they were actually cashed. When we got the new jobs the direct deposit went to a different account) That place was beautiful when we left it. They never even saw it after we left because they had already left to go camping. No, instead, they jump to conclusions and blast us on Facebook about it, making themselves look like the saints and us like, well... it's honestly ridiculous the accusations they are throwing around. The really sad thing is that everyone in Splendora just eats it up. I really don't care, though, it's a stupid small town. People need something to talk about.
I'm just sad that it had to end this way. Michelle coming into our house while we're in the middle of moving and yelling at us so much that my 5-year-old daughter goes into her room, shuts the door, and starts crying. Michelle yelling at us saying that we should be ashamed. At what, exactly? The fact that you can't control us any more? We fly to California in two weeks, anyway, and we paid you more than we owed you. You're not missing out on much, here. You're the screaming banshie in the living room making our daughters cry who should be ashamed.
My favorite was the dog bit. They said that we couldn't have our dog even if it stayed in its crate during the day and we took it out for walks when we got home. We really didn't have anywhere else to put it and pleaded with them to let us keep the dog, but they didn't budge. My mom offered to take care of her in California, but then my Dad stepped in and said no. So now we really didn't know what to do with her. Andy's parents finally let her stay with them, more so because there really was no other option. The dog is now covered in this rash from the stress. During the winter, their house has no central heat and it would get to be in the 30's in their house, and our poor dog just had to sit there in her crate.
Don't try saying anything about it, though. Michelle started yelling at me saying that I was stupid. She yelled, "You are renters! Renters don't have pets dumba**!" I could not believe my ears. This is the girl how got pregnant and married right out of high school, then lived in a mobile home that her in-laws let them stay in for free. They then bought the house next door when it was in foreclosure. She has absolute no experience with renting, and she wants to call me dumb? I know plenty of people who rent and have pets! It is up to the landlord whether or not they will allow them! There is not some rule saying that renters can't have pets...
It is just so stupid it hurts.
My other favorite was when she threatened to "punch me in the mouth." You see, after months and months of their hyper controlling bullshit, I was happy to finally be able to communicate with her about some of the things that were bothering us as well. You see, any relationship is a two-way street, right? Her trashiness was so apparent on Friday. She told Andy that he better tell me about her because she wouldn't be afraid to go over there and punch me in the mouth. Really? That's the kind of identity you're going for? 'I'm Michelle and I'll beat you up!' Really??
It's so immature and pathetic.
You can't talk to these people. I'm just glad to be out of that hell hole. They can think whatever they want, I don't even care at this point. We know what really happened and I know that if it ever came down to it, like if we had to see them in court or something that we would win no problem. I also comfort myself by imagining them walking into the place when they get back from camping and seeing how clean it is. I can't believe they thought that we "trashed" the place. Absolutely ridiculous. I have been in hillbilly hell for too long! I walked into Target this morning and a huge grin spread across my face. I was finally home.
Sunday, May 24, 2015
Monday, May 11, 2015
The Past Year
WARNING - This is a venting post.
I don't even know where to start, there are so many things going through my mind right now.
It is the dreaded Monday night. The night where all your school assignments are due and you somehow can't cut through the procrastination no matter how long you sit at the computer (but Instagram!).
It's a little hard to be motivated, though, when you get your last week's grades back and you see that your brand new instructor gave you a zero for participation even though you participated early and often in the discussion, contributed much and made sure to post the required amount. When I asked her what she was looking for for participation, this was her reply:
"Thank you for asking Kristen,
I hope this helps, if you have any questions along the way, I would be happy to help you think through some of your ideas. :)
The Mailbox
I don't even know where to start, there are so many things going through my mind right now.
It is the dreaded Monday night. The night where all your school assignments are due and you somehow can't cut through the procrastination no matter how long you sit at the computer (but Instagram!).
It's a little hard to be motivated, though, when you get your last week's grades back and you see that your brand new instructor gave you a zero for participation even though you participated early and often in the discussion, contributed much and made sure to post the required amount. When I asked her what she was looking for for participation, this was her reply:
"Thank you for asking Kristen,
I am not so much at looking at length but rather a level of critical thinking in your response. I am looking for each student to use the elements of reasoning and intellectual reflection to create critical thinking responses to their peers as well as their own reasoning. I am also looking for evidence where the class is taking opportunities to challenge their own assumptions in a meaningful way.
I hope this helps, if you have any questions along the way, I would be happy to help you think through some of your ideas. :)
Jen"
Sure, so she's nice, but that doesn't give me a lot to go off of, Jen. And maybe, just maybe, I actually know something that can add to the conversation instead of, "evidence where the class is taking opportunities to challenge their own assumptions in a meaningful way." I mean, really. Can you quantify that? Because that is what you are doing by giving a grade to a discussion.
This is my last class and I was really motivated the first week. I got 100% on the actual assignment (designing a candy store website with javascript elements and a sliding cost bar that would change the product results on the screen). I was very proud of myself yadayadayada, but now? F*ck that b*tch.
Rewind a bit. This was my weekend. Drove up to Frisco Friday to start our first trip of moving back up there. Moved most of the girls toys, my winter clothes, and small appliances. We will be going up every weekend until we are done. It is a pain, costs about $80 in gas and takes about 8 hours for a round trip, but we really really like it there. And we really really hate it here. So it works out.
Add to that that we have the worst neighbors in the world. I have withheld judgment the entire time we have been here, but this last week has really done it in for me. I simply don't understand how some people can be so ..... honestly I don't think there is a word in the English language that can describe how I feel about these people.
Right after we moved here, I had the audacity to try to mail a letter using the mailbox. I know! Where do I get off? We received a knock on the door some minutes later. Opening the door, I found our next door neighbor with my letter in her hand. She handed it back to me. "Were you trying to mail this?" she asked with feigned kindness. Yes... I remember thinking. That's why I put it in the f*cking mailbox.
You see, in Splendoraland you apparently can't tick off the mailman for actually trying to mail mail out of a mailbox because then he won't deliver your mail. (I am not even kidding, this is what she told me!)
So, ok. We were forced to get a P.O. Box which is a major inconvenience and an unforeseen expense.
Fast forward a few months. I have never met or seen this mysterious mailman who somehow feels that he doesn't have to do his job for personal pet peeves (you tried to mail a letter out of a mailbox?!!! How dare you!) Instead, I notice how kind this mailman is. The neighbors still get their mail and packages delivered to our house since they never bothered to register their new address with the post office and install a mailbox. They have lived there for years. (There is a rumor that they actually have a mailbox in their garage but have not installed it yet, but I cannot say for sure whether this is true)
This nice mailman likes to deliver the paper mail on the porch along with the packages. Nice, right? He doesn't want people to have to walk all the way to the mailbox to get their mail! Sometimes the packages are ours (because I refuse to send my packages to the P.O. Box or pay for a larger box), and sometimes they are theirs.
I had the audacity to take their packages and mail over to their front door for them one time. I thought I was doing them a favor! I thought people would actually appreciate having their mail delivered to their residence instead of having to walk next door to get it all. What did I get? I still cannot understand this. The husband threw such a tantrum, saying things like, "Did they touch my mail?! Did they touch my mail?!!!" that now whenever I see him, I think of this...
Somebody spank that kid!
Andy's Birthday
My husband's birthday is in April. We really didn't have any money to do anything really nice for him this year, so he requested a Loot Crate box subscription and his favorite meal on his birthday (chicken friend steak, mashed potatoes, and corn if you must know. He's from the South, OK?!!) I also got him some cake and ice cream and invited the neighbors over to share it with us. It felt a little sparse with just our family and his parents there and I wanted to liven it up. I invited them the day before specifically to, "Cake and ice cream," because, to be honest, I really can't afford buying steak for another family.
Brent (Andy's best friend from childhood and our current neighbor), knocked on the door to wish Andy a happy birthday. Except that he couldn't stay because he was heading off to a video game tournament. Wait, I don't think you understand. This guy couldn't take an hour or two to be with his supposed "best friend" on his birthday and eat some cake an ice cream for a video game "tournament".
It gets worse. This guy is so addicted to video games that he went out and rented a place where the internet is faster just so that he can play video games. I am not even kidding. His poor wife is at home with the kids all day and he never lifts a finger. The time he used to spend at home was in front of a screen, and now he hardly spends any time at home because of this rental room. I wonder how much that is costing their poor family who hardly has enough money to survive.
So, Brent says his goodbyes and leaves. It's nice that he came over, but the suckiness of why he has to leave kind of overshadows whatever kind gesture that was. We are still expecting his wife and kids over for cake and ice cream until I receive a text from her half an hour later saying that Brent said you guys were already eating so we're not coming over... I'm sorry, come again? You were invited to CAKE AND ICE CREAM. I specifically said that each and every time I invited you so that there would be no confusion. Do you not understand that the dessert usually comes after the meal?
So, in a hissy-fit, very like this family, they refuse to even come over for my husband's birthday after we got everything ready and were waiting for them.
Again...
Are these people serious?
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Classroom Store Ideas
I am trying to set up a classroom store for my second graders. During the sumdog competition, I noticed that they were really struggling with coins and money values. I think the perfect solution to this is to have them work with money in a classroom store. I ordered a cash register with fake money this morning, but now I have to figure out what I'm going to "sell" in the store, and how I'm going to communicate the cost of those things.
1) I could get a drawer organizer and label each drawer with a different price. E.g. - everything in the top drawer is 5 cents, everything in the middle drawer is 10 cents, etc.
2) I could put the items into groups on the table and put placecards with their price by the piles. This is not so good an idea as I could see the items going everywhere and creating a huge mess, plus, if the item is removed from the pile it may be difficult for the students to remember their cost.
3) I could get price tags and individually label everything. This sounds like it would be expensive and take a lot of time. Plus the mess afterward of the students taking all the little labels off would probably leave me feeling depressed.
I am spending so much money on my students just to get them to learn how to deal with money! Ironic? I think so!
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Thoughts on Teaching Struggling Students
I love being a student. I love sitting in someone's class and just learning. It is passive yet engaging. I learn fascinating things.
Being a teacher, on the other hand, is not as fun. You have to plan everything to make sure you don't lose anyone's attention and to keep control of the classroom. You have to throw your pearls before swine, ie - topics that you love and think are interesting, there will be students who don't care in the least. Any attempts at getting the unmotivated interested will only leave you feeling depleted of energy and will hardly make any difference in the student's life. After all, who can move a mountain?
There are some students who do not want to be helped. There are some who are content with failure. I have learned that there is nothing I can do to help these students.
On the other hand, there are those that want to learn. Even if they are struggling, they still try. They put in the effort and let me know that they care about their grade. These are the students that I come to work every day for, these are the students that will succeed. The steps to success must start with a desire to succeed.
There are some still that can succeed if given enough one-on-one help and attention, but with time and budget constraints, this simply isn't an option for most students. Thankfully, I get to do that with one student. Our only constraint is time, because I only get him for third period. He is the only one I responsible for in that class and so he benefits from one-on-one attention. I have been able to focus my attention on him and realized many things about him.
a) He can hardly see the board from his seat
b) He falls asleep in class because he walks around at night with his cousin and friend
c) Instead of listening to his algebra lessons, he sits there and tries to find patterns in the numbers himself. He likes puzzles. As a result of this, he draws some pretty crazy conclusions and I have to fix it and re-teach him what he should have been learning in the first place
d) He has trouble speaking what his mind is thinking
e) He is not dumb, he is teachable. When I have enough time with him he is able to work the problems on his own, which is more than I can say for my students in first period.
If only every struggling student could have this much attention and support. That is why I believe in homeschooling, but you have to have intelligent parents. Even if you are not homeschooled, you have to have home support to be successful in school. If your parents don't care whether or not you do your homework, or cannot help you with it themselves, then you probably won't do it. If your parents don't stress the importance of education or try to blame the teachers/faculty for all of their child's problems, guess what, that student is going to come to school with that same attitude.
My favorite was listening to the student's talk about their grades. Mr. So-And-So failed me! Can you believe that?!" I let them know that teacher's don't fail people. You earn the grade that you deserve. It is your personal responsibility to get good grades, not the teacher's responsibility to simply hand them out.
Being a teacher, on the other hand, is not as fun. You have to plan everything to make sure you don't lose anyone's attention and to keep control of the classroom. You have to throw your pearls before swine, ie - topics that you love and think are interesting, there will be students who don't care in the least. Any attempts at getting the unmotivated interested will only leave you feeling depleted of energy and will hardly make any difference in the student's life. After all, who can move a mountain?
There are some students who do not want to be helped. There are some who are content with failure. I have learned that there is nothing I can do to help these students.
On the other hand, there are those that want to learn. Even if they are struggling, they still try. They put in the effort and let me know that they care about their grade. These are the students that I come to work every day for, these are the students that will succeed. The steps to success must start with a desire to succeed.
There are some still that can succeed if given enough one-on-one help and attention, but with time and budget constraints, this simply isn't an option for most students. Thankfully, I get to do that with one student. Our only constraint is time, because I only get him for third period. He is the only one I responsible for in that class and so he benefits from one-on-one attention. I have been able to focus my attention on him and realized many things about him.
a) He can hardly see the board from his seat
b) He falls asleep in class because he walks around at night with his cousin and friend
c) Instead of listening to his algebra lessons, he sits there and tries to find patterns in the numbers himself. He likes puzzles. As a result of this, he draws some pretty crazy conclusions and I have to fix it and re-teach him what he should have been learning in the first place
d) He has trouble speaking what his mind is thinking
e) He is not dumb, he is teachable. When I have enough time with him he is able to work the problems on his own, which is more than I can say for my students in first period.
If only every struggling student could have this much attention and support. That is why I believe in homeschooling, but you have to have intelligent parents. Even if you are not homeschooled, you have to have home support to be successful in school. If your parents don't care whether or not you do your homework, or cannot help you with it themselves, then you probably won't do it. If your parents don't stress the importance of education or try to blame the teachers/faculty for all of their child's problems, guess what, that student is going to come to school with that same attitude.
My favorite was listening to the student's talk about their grades. Mr. So-And-So failed me! Can you believe that?!" I let them know that teacher's don't fail people. You earn the grade that you deserve. It is your personal responsibility to get good grades, not the teacher's responsibility to simply hand them out.
Emotional Day
I haven't written in a long time, but I think it's time to pick up the habit again. I have a little time on my hands today. Today was the last time I will ever go to Smart E Pants daycare on business again. It seems silly, I shouldn't have gotten so emotional over it. Elizabeth only went there for 2 months (minus 2 weeks for Christmas break). Still, she left an impression. Miss Abby, her teacher, says that they talk about her every day. She said that she misses her when she's not around. It's things like these that made me a basket case today when I had to drop off our last payment and pick up her things.
It seems so silly. I never wanted to put my kids in American daycare, especially this one. It looked dingy from the outside and the staff did not leave me with the easiest feeling at first. Her teacher was great, but I will never forget Miss ____, who would always make Lizzie cry and she would never stay with her to eat breakfast because she hated her so much. She would ask us at home if she would have to be with Miss ___ and we would tell her no. Even though she loved Miss Abby, as a whole she is happier going to our friends' house. She gets to be in a home environment and play with her friend, Katie. It is better for her, and in the end her happiness is all that matters. She would dread going to daycare, asking us at home, "Do I have to go to daycare tomorrow?" Poor baby. Now she cries when we pick her up because she doesn't want to leave her friend's house!
I must be PMSing. There is seriously no other reason why I should have gotten so emotional about leaving Smart E Pants (I realize the name of the daycare makes my plight seem all the more trite), but I did.
I've been writing during my second period class at the school about what I witness in the classroom. I am considering publishing it as a book titled "Inside America's Classrooms - What Really Goes On" It's a good thing that I get to be a part of two classrooms - one who has excellent classroom management techniques, and the other one who is not so good. I get so frustrated witnessing the latter classroom that I have decided to write about it. After all, I have to have something to laugh about later.
It seems so silly. I never wanted to put my kids in American daycare, especially this one. It looked dingy from the outside and the staff did not leave me with the easiest feeling at first. Her teacher was great, but I will never forget Miss ____, who would always make Lizzie cry and she would never stay with her to eat breakfast because she hated her so much. She would ask us at home if she would have to be with Miss ___ and we would tell her no. Even though she loved Miss Abby, as a whole she is happier going to our friends' house. She gets to be in a home environment and play with her friend, Katie. It is better for her, and in the end her happiness is all that matters. She would dread going to daycare, asking us at home, "Do I have to go to daycare tomorrow?" Poor baby. Now she cries when we pick her up because she doesn't want to leave her friend's house!
I must be PMSing. There is seriously no other reason why I should have gotten so emotional about leaving Smart E Pants (I realize the name of the daycare makes my plight seem all the more trite), but I did.
I've been writing during my second period class at the school about what I witness in the classroom. I am considering publishing it as a book titled "Inside America's Classrooms - What Really Goes On" It's a good thing that I get to be a part of two classrooms - one who has excellent classroom management techniques, and the other one who is not so good. I get so frustrated witnessing the latter classroom that I have decided to write about it. After all, I have to have something to laugh about later.
Wednesday, August 27, 2014
Happy and Alone
I am really enjoying being alone. The part of myself that I felt I had lost wasn't because I became a mother, it was because I wasn't allowed to be alone. There is something so sweet about simply existing without onlookers or opinion. It is so beautiful to just be here, doing what I want to do, listening to what I want to listen to, and drinking my tea. I am remembering myself, it is almost as if we are being reintroduced, and I love who I see.
I suppose it is only a matter of time until the loneliness sets in, but for now I am content to just be.
I suppose it is only a matter of time until the loneliness sets in, but for now I am content to just be.
Monday, August 18, 2014
On Moving Away from Suburbia
I am pleasantly surprised.
Upon my husband losing his job two months ago, to him becoming a teacher and us having to move (the seventh move we have had in our five years of marriage), I was at first feeling sorry for myself. We had been in our first house for only 14 months when we had to move as my husband's job was 5 hours away. Thankfully, we were able to rent it out to family members did did not have to sell, but part of me felt like we had still lost.
Fast forward to now. We are renting out a mobile home in a very country area and I am happy. I thought I was happy in suburbia, but I realize now how much stress was put on me in that setting to perform simply as a mother. There is constant attention put on your children and your home. Everyone is trying to be Martha Stewart and they are doing it all on credit cards. It is absolutely INSANE, and I am happy to be taking a breather. I am happy to be in a place where people will not judge me for having mismatched furniture. I am happy to be in a place where I do not feel judged at every red light for the car I drive, or the constant pressure mothers feel to take their kids every day to one of the following:
a) the park
b) trampoline park
c) inflatable jumping park
d) play date
e) church event
f) Chik Fil A
If all of the above fail, it's off to Target, the mother's entertainment. (Read $$)
The amount of money it takes to, "keep up with the Jones," and to simply keep oneself entertained is ridiculous. $30-$40 a day for you and your kids options (b) and (c) make them a once in a while affair. Texas weather makes (a) an option only during a few select weeks out of the year, and (d) requires coordination which sometimes happens, but everyone is also afraid to have people come over unless their houses are spotless. With kids, let's be honest, this is hardly the case.
In the past, kids simply played outside with their neighborhood friends. It was as simple as asking mom if you could go to so-and-so's house, her saying yes, and you walking down the street and doing it. Now, everyone is afraid of everyone. You don't see neighborhood friends playing together simply because they live on the same street. Play has turned inside as parents are afraid of their children ending up on the news if they allow them to play unsupervised.
Another point - There is always a holiday. It used to be that people decorated and got ready for Christmas. Thanksgiving simply required a meal and dressing up, and Easter had some festivities as well. Today, suburban mothers are expected to dress up their homes for Valentine's Day, Father's Day, St. Patty's Day, Fourth of July, Summertime (in itself a holiday), and Halloween. There is this unspoken contest between members of suburbia to outdo their peers in the festivities for any and all of the above "celebrations," and it gets even worse for Christmas. I cannot tell you how much we have spent on Christmas decorations, it would make me cry. We always talk about the dichotomy of how a season that is supposed to be about giving and goodwill to your fellow person can turn into a commercial conquest.
Don't get me wrong, Christmas shopping is fun. But the line is crossed when you have to pull out the credit card. The line is crossed when you start buying toys for your kids not because they need it, but because you want to have more presents under the tree. These are the toys that will become clutter for the next year until you surrender them to the Goodwill. The line is crossed when we stop looking forward to Christmas and we start resenting the amount of time, money, and labor that it will cost.
I am thankful to be in this mobile home because it is a shelter from all of this madness. We moved in on a Tuesday night and had three very happy days before we drove back to Dallas for a second round of household goods, not the least of which included all of our daughters' books and toys. We filled three very large boxes with these goods and were the majority of the trip. What before had been a peaceful safe haven has now turned into a chaotic mess. I have half a mind to not even unpack the last box and simply give it to charity. We would be much better off for it. I kid you not, 50% off this box is toys that are no large than 3 inches. It frightens me to open this box. I do not want to introduce this chaos to my environment!!!
Ahh, suburbia. You sell a dream, but you sell a whole lot more than that. If I could tell you the amount of door-to-door salespeople we got within our first year of living here, it was at least one a week. People everywhere see this area as a profitable money pit. You have many educated, young families together and that smells like money. I am so glad to be getting a break from all of this and to be analyzing our finances. While not all of our debt is a result of shopping (about half is from medical bills), I am happy to be taking a step back, slashing our living expenses and getting out of debt! There is something so freeing from separating yourself from the hype and being independent for a while.
Andy is doing very well at his job. They are already talking about having him go to physics training next summer, which implies that they will hire him on again. Even though I was at first afraid of this happening, I am beginning to embrace the change. There is something in the air here. It is opportunity. Instead of being in a place where every move we make puts money into someone else's pocket, this is a place where we can create our own fortunes. I am excited to see where this place takes us.
Upon my husband losing his job two months ago, to him becoming a teacher and us having to move (the seventh move we have had in our five years of marriage), I was at first feeling sorry for myself. We had been in our first house for only 14 months when we had to move as my husband's job was 5 hours away. Thankfully, we were able to rent it out to family members did did not have to sell, but part of me felt like we had still lost.
Fast forward to now. We are renting out a mobile home in a very country area and I am happy. I thought I was happy in suburbia, but I realize now how much stress was put on me in that setting to perform simply as a mother. There is constant attention put on your children and your home. Everyone is trying to be Martha Stewart and they are doing it all on credit cards. It is absolutely INSANE, and I am happy to be taking a breather. I am happy to be in a place where people will not judge me for having mismatched furniture. I am happy to be in a place where I do not feel judged at every red light for the car I drive, or the constant pressure mothers feel to take their kids every day to one of the following:
a) the park
b) trampoline park
c) inflatable jumping park
d) play date
e) church event
f) Chik Fil A
If all of the above fail, it's off to Target, the mother's entertainment. (Read $$)
The amount of money it takes to, "keep up with the Jones," and to simply keep oneself entertained is ridiculous. $30-$40 a day for you and your kids options (b) and (c) make them a once in a while affair. Texas weather makes (a) an option only during a few select weeks out of the year, and (d) requires coordination which sometimes happens, but everyone is also afraid to have people come over unless their houses are spotless. With kids, let's be honest, this is hardly the case.
In the past, kids simply played outside with their neighborhood friends. It was as simple as asking mom if you could go to so-and-so's house, her saying yes, and you walking down the street and doing it. Now, everyone is afraid of everyone. You don't see neighborhood friends playing together simply because they live on the same street. Play has turned inside as parents are afraid of their children ending up on the news if they allow them to play unsupervised.
Another point - There is always a holiday. It used to be that people decorated and got ready for Christmas. Thanksgiving simply required a meal and dressing up, and Easter had some festivities as well. Today, suburban mothers are expected to dress up their homes for Valentine's Day, Father's Day, St. Patty's Day, Fourth of July, Summertime (in itself a holiday), and Halloween. There is this unspoken contest between members of suburbia to outdo their peers in the festivities for any and all of the above "celebrations," and it gets even worse for Christmas. I cannot tell you how much we have spent on Christmas decorations, it would make me cry. We always talk about the dichotomy of how a season that is supposed to be about giving and goodwill to your fellow person can turn into a commercial conquest.
Don't get me wrong, Christmas shopping is fun. But the line is crossed when you have to pull out the credit card. The line is crossed when you start buying toys for your kids not because they need it, but because you want to have more presents under the tree. These are the toys that will become clutter for the next year until you surrender them to the Goodwill. The line is crossed when we stop looking forward to Christmas and we start resenting the amount of time, money, and labor that it will cost.
I am thankful to be in this mobile home because it is a shelter from all of this madness. We moved in on a Tuesday night and had three very happy days before we drove back to Dallas for a second round of household goods, not the least of which included all of our daughters' books and toys. We filled three very large boxes with these goods and were the majority of the trip. What before had been a peaceful safe haven has now turned into a chaotic mess. I have half a mind to not even unpack the last box and simply give it to charity. We would be much better off for it. I kid you not, 50% off this box is toys that are no large than 3 inches. It frightens me to open this box. I do not want to introduce this chaos to my environment!!!
Ahh, suburbia. You sell a dream, but you sell a whole lot more than that. If I could tell you the amount of door-to-door salespeople we got within our first year of living here, it was at least one a week. People everywhere see this area as a profitable money pit. You have many educated, young families together and that smells like money. I am so glad to be getting a break from all of this and to be analyzing our finances. While not all of our debt is a result of shopping (about half is from medical bills), I am happy to be taking a step back, slashing our living expenses and getting out of debt! There is something so freeing from separating yourself from the hype and being independent for a while.
Andy is doing very well at his job. They are already talking about having him go to physics training next summer, which implies that they will hire him on again. Even though I was at first afraid of this happening, I am beginning to embrace the change. There is something in the air here. It is opportunity. Instead of being in a place where every move we make puts money into someone else's pocket, this is a place where we can create our own fortunes. I am excited to see where this place takes us.
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