Memories of Grandma

As I continue this blogging thing, I can't help but be reminded of my grandmother. My grandmother journaled. If she were alive today, I'm pretty sure she'd be a blogger. The big difference between her journals and blogging would be the privacy thing. My blogs are out there for everyone to read. Hers were private. I knew she journaled but never read one of hers until well after she had passed. Most of journals were gone. She'd burned them shortly after the death of her husband. I learned that from one of the two journals that remained in my mother's possession. A few years ago, my mother shared one with me. I immediately took it to the quick print shop and made a copy. Many times since copying it, I've sat down and read passages. Fascinating the things I learned and never knew about her.  She didn't need a fancy journal.  She wrote on standard ruled paper and saved them in three ring binders. Her hand writing never changed. She would write about just about anything. She wrote passages from books she'd read, quotes from magazines, recipes she came across, stories about her family, words she had learned, jokes she'd heard. Her writing was, yes, very random and sometimes awkward.

More than a few times, I've been compared to my grandmother. A compliment, I guess. Gizzella Ethel, that was actually her name, was a bit, as one might say, eccentric. Thank goodness my mother didn't decide to name me after her. Had I been, I'm pretty certain it wouldn't have been shortened to Elle whereby I could have gone on to New York and become a super model. The "smart one" assuredly would have called me Gizzy and lord knows where I'd be!  Back to dear old granny, let's just say Gizzella "marched to the beat of her own drum." She grew poison ivy because she "liked the way it looked." Rescued wild animals, including a rabid raccoon. Lacked in the domestic department, often having one of her granddaughters clean her whole house for $5...I later learned the "smart one" got $10 and the "pretty one" got paid but didn't clean. She was artistic and loved to draw horses, probably because she spent so much time at the track betting on them. Not that any of here grandchildren minded because we all tagged along at one time or another. She was colorful. Her kitchen was papered in bright yellow and neon orange floral wallpaper. In fact, I think she had an outfit that matched. She could walk to the field in her backyard and gather what were mostly weeds and transform them into a beautiful bouquet. Her epileptic dog, Pepé, was a constant companion. She admitted wanting to try smoking pot (pretty sure she probably did).  She cared about people, but didn't care what people thought. Writing about her makes me realize maybe people were right. The apple hasn't fallen far from the tree, even if there is a generation in between.

"Think of your journal as a psychoanalyst's couch, a confession. Lie down and talk, talk, talk, talk. Ramble on about irrelevances or else list in order your sins. Repeat over and over as you peel away each layer of onion skin to the core. Explore your depths, dreams, fantasies, truths." —written in Gizzella's journal, author unknown.

Random thoughts from a 50 year old.
Vicki

Equal and Fair

I recently attended a parent planning meeting for Senior Night at our high school. The evening is held on the last day of school for the graduates. A slide show is shown, senior superlatives are announced, and door prizes are awarded. Our meeting was to discuss and go about collecting door prizes.  Seems in past years, every student went home with a prize.  Some prizes were as small as a $5 gift card, while a couple lucky students went home with something as grand as a television.  There were a few people at the meeting who thought we should make the prizes EQUAL. Everyone's prize was the same value. After a bit of discussion we helped them realize that everyone's name was put in the drawing once, so they each had an EQUAL chance of winning.  My question to the group, "Why do we have to give every student a prize?" "Can't we just choose a couple grand prize winners?" The answers to my questions were "It's a tradition. Does the class of 2012 want to be the first not to give everyone a prize? Besides, if you don't give everyone a prize they won't come." "Good" I thought, then the ones that do will have a better chance of winning a prize. Needless to say I was overruled so everyone will be going home with a prize.


I guess I shouldn't be shocked. As parents, we've trained our kids that just showing up is reason enough and they therefore deserve a prize. Growing up, I never had a birthday party. A cake made by my mom (except the one year she forgot...I've never been the same!) and a trip to Toyland in Painesville for a gift. (Note that was singular!) Ahhh, I remember it vividly. Riding in the backseat of the car, without my seatbelt, sucking on a penny, which I proceeded to swallow, admiring my one gift...Gumby.  Today kids are entitled to a party every year with 30+ of their closest friends attending. As if a giant inflatable and petty zoo aren't enough, we then provide a gift for each and every party guest. Wait, is it their birthday too? Why do they get a gift?


When it comes to sporting events, two hours is way to long for a ten year old to go without a drink and snack. After what is usually a disastrous season—because the kids are too distracted choosing which flavor juice bag they want and nibbling on cupcakes adorned with a ball—that they have no clue what is happening in the game. They then lose every game, not that they know, because we're usually trying to be FAIR so we don't keep score. Who cares if your team didn't win and the league trophy went to the other team who managed to score in between sips. Your parents have bought you each a trophy to display next to your "certificate of participation" and "good effort medal" in your room.


My mother always claims that she parented us all equally. Really mom? The "pretty one" didn't need a little stroking now and then?  "Oh honey it's all right your hair will grow back. I know you just wanted to make it look prettier." The "smart one" didn't deserve a little praise now and then? "Wonderful who would have thought you'd get all A's again!" Don't get me wrong I'm not jealous (I've been to therapy!) I'm just making a point. I don't think you should parent your children equally. They're each unique.


Mom also tried to be fair. Take Christmas, each year she'd go to extreme measures to make sure that each of her six children had the same number of gifts. We'd take turns one year the youngest would start the gift opening process, followed by the next oldest, on up in age, each opening one gift before starting back at the youngest for next gift. The next year, just to be fair, we'd start with the oldest and go in reverse. Great idea. Only problem, it sucked for me, being the middle child since in her attempt to be fair, my mom would usually give us the each same gift. Surprise!


My children have obviously been aware of my stance on EQUAL and FAIR for quite some time. All you have to do is look at Griffin's second grade Mother's Day gift that he made at school, an "All About My Mom" book, to see where I stand. When he answered the question "What my mom always says", his answer was "Life's not fair!" Guilty as charged. I don't think life has to be fair or for that matter equal.


"Believe it or not…life is not fair. Occasionally the bad guy wins, people do play favorites, some good people die young, some people will let you down and not everyone is honest. While we can accept this, it shouldn’t stop us from dreaming big, working hard and doing what is right." —Cory Wells


Random thoughts!
Vicki