Kymlee Is Awesome

Jun 20

Of Mourning, Lost Time and Last Words

I had a feeling this day would be arriving sooner than I was comfortable with admitting. And still I kept telling myself there would be more time. Another Christmas to pop in and sit with him for a while. Another Mother’s Day that maybe we’d have brunch together. Another day I could call and just tell him I love him.

But time ran out and now I’m left with this mourning.

My brother called before sunrise to tell me that our dad had passed. Only, he couldn’t actually say it. He was just crying and I didn’t need him to say the thing I knew he couldn’t say. So I said it for him. And for a moment, I felt myself go numb.

My dad had been very sick for a long time. He had been depressed and lonely since losing the love of his life to breast cancer. He hadn’t been the daddy I remembered for many years and we had grown apart.

As I got older, I started feeling like maybe I never knew my dad very well. He was an emotionally-closed man of few words. But somehow I always knew that he loved me. And I loved him. And we loved each other the best way we knew how.

Unfortunately, when I wasn’t making the effort, we went long stretches without seeing each other. The kid in me wanted her daddy to just pick up the phone and call her. The adult in me wanted the kid to get over it and call dad. And I did, once…about a year ago.

He was in the hospital and I was afraid that would be my last chance to talk to him. I asked him if I should visit and he told me he’d call me when he got home — which, of course, he never did. As we talked I asked him about his health and he spun me some bullshit about being ok. I wanted to believe him, but I knew he wasn’t well. Still, I didn’t push. We had a short conversation before we ran out of things to say and began our goodbyes.

“Dad,” I said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Kimberlee.”

And those were the last words we said to each other.

The next time I saw him, he was in the hospital again. This time in a diabetic coma and even more frail than I remembered. I almost didn’t recognize him. I sat next to his bed wishing I knew more about his condition…hoping he’d wake up and I would have one more chance to talk to him.

That was three weeks ago and today I got the call I had been expecting — and dreading. And while I wish I had been brave enough to visit him in recent years, I am so grateful that the last thing we said to each other was “I love you.”

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Posted in My Life, Well That Sucks death in the family Mourning Reflections

Jun 15

Worry Edges Out Possibilities and Happiness

My sister often talks about how I am her example of how faith works. She’s seen me take risks and believe that the universe would return my willingness with abundant prosperity; and it has. For most of us, the problem isn’t that there aren’t opportunities and possibilities, its that we give into the fear and worry.

But there is one basic principal that got me on the path of shifting my perception away from lack and limitation to limitless possibilities.

I stopped worrying.

The concept is deceptively simple. I like to plan. I like to create structure around myself. I don’t like when things don’t go the way I plan them and I am still learning to be a good steward over my finances. But through all of life’s ups and downs, I’ve learned that worrying just gets in the way.

Ultimately the worry is fear. And fear doesn’t focus on possibilities. It puts the focus squarely on the problem and magnifies it so you feel helpless. The helplessness turns into stress and then you find yourself unable to rest or focus on anything other than whatever your current worry is. And some people worry all the time. That must be a stressful life.

I made a conscious decision not to worry and since then, when stressors come, I have learned to trust that everything will work itself out. It took years to get to this place where I can simply trust that things will work for the good. Yes, that’s right. I trust that things will work in my favor. After years of going through life’s peaks and valleys, I’ve learned that worry edges out the ability to see possibilities, and creates more stress.

And, really. Who needs that much stress in their lives? I sure don’t

Instead of worrying and focusing on the problem, when something comes up, I first evaluate what I can do about it. If there are actions I can take immediately to resolve the problem, I get to work. If there’s no immediate action that can be taken and I feel worry start to creep up, I remember that I have never gone hungry or been without shelter. In fact, my life has constantly improved and I have always been able to take care of my kids. I remind myself that through it all, I have come through a stronger, wiser and happier person.

Most of us spend our days worrying so much that we don’t even know we’re worried. But the key is to begin changing the way you think and shifting your perception away from the fear, to something more productive. Over time, when life knocks you over the head, you’ll be less compelled by that internal trigger that wants to focus all energies on “OMG OMG WHAT EVER WILL I DO?” Instead, you’ll be able to handle life’s stressors with a clear head, rather the being beholden to the negative what ifs.

Image via Evil Erin

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Posted in Goal Setting, My Life Finding Balance Fulfillment Getting Things Done happiness Introspection No Worries

Jun 08

Parents Can Get Together to Teach Kids Respect For Each Other

This isn’t a movie review for the movie I’ve never seen with the same title. Instead, its an expression of pride in teh collective parenting my neighbors and I are doing.

About a month ago, the Boy came into the house crushed and crying that his friends had told him he wasn’t Christian. While my first impulse was to say, “So the-fuck-what,” I could tell he was very hurt by the assertion that his spiritual foundation was false. Instead, I asked him why they had said this…had he done something to provoke such a response?

He told me that he and the girls had gotten into a disagreement and that he pushed one of them. One of them responded to his violence toward her friend by questioning his faith.

Clearly, she had no real understanding of what it meant to be a follower of Christ beyond the concept that hurting others was wrong. It was a good place to start, but her assertion indicated a youthful ignorance that resulted in behavior that was hurtful to someone she called a friend.

I talked to the boy about spirituality being personal and the concept of being Christian meaning to follow Christ’s example of love and decided to let him try to work things out on his own.

But then it happened again. And again nearly a month later, this time with a group of girls cornering the boy at the water fountain to taunt and yell and threaten to beat him up.

This was the point at which I decided to contact the teacher and request that she take action. I also decided that since most of the taunters lived in our building, that I would talk to their parents. The good news is that the parents were sympathetic and agreed that the kids should not be picking on each other. And since then, the kids have been playing nicely together.

We tend to react to bullying in one of two ways as parents: either we ignore it in the expectation that the kids can negotiate their own conflicts, or we get way too involved taking on the defender position which can often make things worse. Sometimes though, parents can band together and teach kids to respect one another.

Thats what me and the other parents here did. We all agreed that the kids didn’t have to be friends, but we didn’t want them to be mean to one another.

It was a teachable moment for all involved.

Image © katclay

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Posted in My Life, Parenting bullying collective parenting community Friendship

Jun 01

And So Summer Begins…

With the surprise arrival of the elder boy and a house full of kids this afternoon (my own plus several neighbor kids), I realized that summer vacation is upon me. And I’m so not ready for this.

How am I to get any work done with a bunch of kids in the house, playing music videos, video games and talking loudly? I sent them to the park, that’s how.

The awesome thing is that the neighbor-kid parents are starting to loosen up, and today, the kids went off to the park in a group of four!

What a change from last week, when I thought one of my neighbors was a free-range hater who called the police. I’ve since decided that probably wasn’t the case and that the police visit was a hang over from the first run in. I’ve also realized how important it is to encourage other parents to let the kids go off to the park as a group, so the boy isn’t on his own traveling between the park and home. Not only are they all safer that way, they get to play together and they’re less likely to be bothered by a busy body thinking one parent is crazy for letting her kid cross a major intersection.

I’m winning the parents over and the kids get to go play at the park. I think summer is going to be awesome…

That is, as long as we all kick the kids out of the house and send them off to play together.

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Posted in Parenting Free-Range fun in the sun kids at play summer vacation

May 27

“What’s Wrong With People?! I’m a Big Kid Now!”

It happened again…Quite possibly the biggest fear of any free-range parent: Someone called the police about my son being unsupervised.

This time the call came from someone who had my address, and probably, one of my neighbors.

Unlike the previous run in with the police, the officer did not yell or automatically jump to the conclusion that I was a bad mother. He didn’t assume that because my son was playing at the park, I was negligent.

Instead, he noted that my being home was an indication of supervision and simply asked if my son had a habit of getting into trouble. “Is he responsible? Can you trust him to be where he says he’s going to be?”

No, yes and yes.

And then we both stood there for a moment looking puzzled.

“Someone gave you my address?” I asked.

“Yes,” he responded. “I don’t know how long the call has been in the system, but someone reported that you regularly leave your 9-year-old son alone and unsupervised.” He paused for a moment. “It sounds to me like you’re doing alright. And obviously, he’s not unsupervised if you’re home.”

While I was heartbroken thinking that one of my neighbors might have sent the police to my home, I was encouraged by the officer’s lack of concern. He was kind and assured me that “this stops with me,” and that CPS had not been alerted. He was just investigating a call. He asked a few more questions, thanked me for my time and went on his way.

But I was frazzled by the visit. Again my mind wondered if I had done anything wrong. I began trying to figure out which neighbor or community member might have made the call and why. Was it time for another move? This time with the goal of landing in a more kid friendly community? (Later I realized that this was probably a hangover from the last police visit and the officer probably hadn’t been completely forthcoming in that regard.)

I waited a few minutes and then headed to the park to check on the boy, who was already on his way home. As we hit the stairs, one of the kids from our community ran up and noted that the police had been here. Was everything alright? I told her things were fine, as the boy and I made our way to our apartment silently.

“Why were the police here?” The boy asked once we were inside.

“They said someone made a call about you being unsupervised.”

He was livid. “Again?!? What is wrong with people?!” He said throwing his helmet on the couch. “I’m a big kid now!”

“I know, honey…” I didn’t really know what else to say. I was still processing the whole thing myself. I was afraid, but didn’t want him to be. How could I teach him not to be afraid of the community if I was afraid?

“Maybe…” he started. “Maybe I shouldn’t go to the park.”

In that moment, I knew I had to reassure both of us that we were doing the right thing. “No. We will not be afraid and we have not done anything wrong.”

“But what if this happens again?”

“Then we’ll deal with it.”

I could tell that he was just as shaken as I and for a couple days, he didn’t ask to go to the park.

Thankfully, the fear didn’t last long and yesterday, he asked if he could go visit his friends near the big park. Still nervous about the visit from the police, I decided to escort him. And once he had successfully found a friend’s house at which to play, he quickly waved me away.

I left trying to ignore the nagging feeling, but knew he would make his way home on his own just fine.

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Posted in Parenting, The Boy Children Free-Range police harassment the fear WTF

May 23

He went to the park without me. I checked on him. He didn’t need me

Last year the Boy and I celebrated a play holiday created by Free-Range Kids author Lenore Skenazy: Take Your Kids to the Park and Leave Them There. We biked to the park and I left him at the playground while I rode the bike trails. I was nervous at first, but when I came back 30 minutes later, he had made a new friend.

This Saturday was Take Your Kids to the Park and Leave Them There Day, but we didn’t celebrate. Well…not in any official way. You see, in the year since the one we did celebrate, it has become commonplace for the boy to go to the park on his own and hang out with the other kids…mostly boys. So today was really a regular Saturday for us.

I suppose the real difference is that we’ve learned a lot since then. We’ve learned that while most folks are free-range friendly, there are those who don’t agree with the free-range philosophy. As a result, I pulled back a little, and the Boy hadn’t been able to visit some of his friends at the skate park/community center near our house. Sure there was the school park a block away, but the the Boy was beginning to miss his friends from other other park.

I had worried. Maybe a half a mile was too far. Maybe the big intersection he had to cross to get to the “big park” was too busy for him to cross without my supervision. Honestly, I was more worried about what people would think and do about my son being unsupervised than I was about him being hurt by a stranger, hit by a car or doing something dangerous.

But he wore me down and I started letting him go back to the big park. First for only an hour. Then for two. Then one day he called and said one of his friends was having a party, could he stay? And when I went over to check on him, he was playing with all the kids he had met during our first summer in this neighborhood.

All of this lead to today, when he begged me if he could go to the big park and despite my fear, I let him go with a warning to be careful and call me if he decided to hang out at a friend’s house. Which he did. And later, he called me again to let me know he was at the skate park. I thanked him for checking in, hung up the phone and geared up for a surprise check-up. (I find doing this keeps him honest, he never knows when I’m going to pop up and if I can’t find him where he said he’ll be, he’ll lose some of his precious freedom.)

When I got to the park, he was there, happily surrounded by other skater boys, practicing tricks. I stayed back and watched because I didn’t want to break his focus. It was awesome to see him out there with the other boys, all of them so focused on landing whatever jump or grind they were working to perfect. He fell down many times, as skaters often do, and I resisted the urge to rush to his aid.

And then the boy caught sight of me and I became a distraction from his practice so he asked me to leave. He asked me to leave!

The boy didn’t need me. Now isn’t that what being free-range is all about? So I left him. And it was just another Saturday.

Did you take your kids to the park and leave them there this weekend?

Image by greenkozi

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Posted in Parenting, The Boy Free-Range freedom play Take Your Kid to the Park and Leave Them There the boy is growing up

May 20

A Lesson in Empathy for the Boy

During the day, I usually don’t turn on the TV. I find it a noisy distraction. The Boy often comes home and after completing his homework, wants to turn on the tube, but I refuse.

It isn’t until after we’ve had dinner that, I go to my room and leave the Boy to get his cartoon fix before going to bed. But last night he came to me and asked if he could watch TV together instead of separate. I was watching The Constant Gardener and hadn’t seen anything in it so far that I thought inappropriate, so I continued to watch it.

After watching for about 15 minutes, the Boy turned his head and said he couldn’t watch the movie anymore. It was disturbing.

I was surprised. There had been very little foul language, no violence or no sexual content. Just a privileged white couple that was becoming increasingly fractured over the wife’s desire to help the impoverished people in an African country.

But I stopped the movie anyway and realized that the Boy was crying.

“What’s wrong honey? What were you disturbed by?”

“Its just…Its disturbing,” he said. “A 15-year-old dying?”

He shook his head as the tears slowly made their way down his cheeks.

There it was, he was disturbed by the depiction of the poverty. The 15-year-old mother of three, who was dying (probably of AIDS) had been just too much for him to handle. And while I realized that he was not yet mature enough for this particular movie, he was mature enough for a little talk about empathy — because that’s what he was feeling.

So I told him that while sometimes we have had some financial struggles, we are very fortunate. We have food, we have shelter, we have nice clothes, and clean water to drink and bathe with. But there are people in other parts of the world who sleep on dirt floors and drink the same water other people shit in. There are people who don’t have the privileged of attending public schools and for many of the children in third world countries, the lunch they get at school is their only meal of the day.

We are fortunate.

I held him close and told him that his empathy was a good thing. People who feel empathy are often compelled to help others. Empathy drives people to make it so that people don’t have to drink shitty water, eat rice mush and sleep on dirt floors. Empathy drives people to work to make it so that 15-year-olds don’t have to die of AIDS.

He nodded his understanding as I wiped away his tears and gave him a big hug.

And then I put on Kick-Ass, a movie with gratuitous violence and foul language, but one that I knew would not leave him feeling sad about the human condition. There will be enough for that when he gets older.

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Posted in Movies, The Boy Empathy Poverty Teachable Moments

May 16

Education, Pride, and Hope for the Future

Last week I had the pleasure of traveling to Cincinnati to speak to students, oh behalf of the Freedom Writers, about the importance of education and how one choice can have major consequences.

I recalled the high academic expectations my mother had for me and how hard she worked to make sure I got a quality education. How she constantly reminded me that education was my ticket to life as more than just a secretary or working retail.

For a long time, I thought my story of fighting every step of the way to achieve my mother’s dream was insignificant, compared to some of the other Freedom Writer stories of violence and abuse. But seeing the kids in Cincinnati — many of whom are also being pushed to go to college, while not really seeing any resources to accomplish this goal — made me realize that my story can help give these students hope.

I also had to reflect on the fact that while education is a great opportunity equalizer, there are even fewer resources available for these students than there were for me. Education budgets are being slashed and the result is crowded schools and classes, overworked teachers who have been villanized, and students who have little hope for their educational future.

Still, I did my best to inspire and encourage the students despite the increasingly difficult atmosphere in which going to college seems like an impossible dream.

And on my way home, I got an amazing phone call. My oldest son is being awarded a scholarship to a boarding school in Washington DC because of his outstanding academic achievement and strong leadership. My hope was restored that while the resources seemed to be shrinking away, there are still opportunities for kids who work hard to rise above the rest and be recognized for it.

I know that he’ll have to work twice as hard while being away from his family and surrounded by other kids whose parents are probably paying their tuition to this private school. But my fear that there would be too much pressure for him was calmed when he told me that he was ready and would do whatever it took, because this was his chance.

His chance to get a great education and a solid foundation to prepare him to get into a great college.

And my heart swelled with pride, remembering how hard I had worked to impart the same value for education as my mother had imparted to me. This legacy was being passed on, and there is hope that my son will one day earn a college degree and become a second generation college graduate.

Image by DieselDemon

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Posted in Giving Back, Parenting Cincinnati Education Freedom Writers Hope

May 10

Book Review: Free-Range Kids

If you’re a regular reader, you know I love the Free-Range Kids blog, by Lenore Skenazy. (If you’re not a regular reader, here’s the feed). Recently, when I got the itch to read a hard copy book, I purchased Skenazy’s book, Free-Range Kids: How to Raise Safe, Self-Reliant Children, Without Going Nuts With Worry.

The idea, which I’ve discussed here before, is that giving kids age appropriate freedom is good for their development, good for parents, good for communities. She advocates that parents teach their kids about freedom and responsibility, give them the tools they need to confidently explore the world, starting first with their local neighborhoods. And I agree.

Skenazy is hilariously irreverent and equipped with the stats anyone needs to combat the fear that makes us want to lock our kids in the house. I’m already planning to buy a copy for my sister (who is raising three boys she’s afraid to let out of her sight) so that when her boys are old enough, she’ll have a tool to help her break free of her fear and teach them independence.

My feeling is that parents are afraid and want to give their kids freedom, but don’t know how. In Free-Range Kids, Lenore addresses those fears and provides ideas for taking baby steps or a big leap into going free-range. She also makes in clear that this concept isn’t about being lazy and uninvolved. Quite the contrary. If we’re going to send out kids out into the world, its our job as parents to prepare them. We shouldn’t live in fear and neither should they. This book is a gateway to reversing the trend of childhood lock-down and distrust of our neighbors.

Lenore Skenazy helped me gain perspective and I have watched my son develop in such an amazing way as a result of our free-range practice. As far as I’m concerned, Free-Range Kids is a must read for any parent, especially those who want their kids to grow up competent, confident and ready to take on the world.

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Posted in Books, Parenting Free-Range No Fear Training Kids

May 04

Beautiful validation, from one mother to another

This weekend I saw a friend I haven’t seen in almost 10 years. We reconnected on Facebook and talked about getting together for a few months until, one day she called and she was on her way.

Its a good thing we didn’t have any plans.

The boys got along like long lost friends and splashed around in the pool for hours. And the friend — we’ll call her M — sat in the sun talking. Talking about spirituality, health, vices and what we’ve learned from our boys.

She remarked that she wished her son were as independent as mine and confided in me that her son was autistic. For a long time she had been so worried about the autism, that how until recently, she let it become an excuse for her to do almost everything for her son. There was no consequence for any of his actions and there was no responsibility.

Then one day M found herself trying to lift her 8-year-old son to help him get dressed, and she realized how ridiculous it all was. M saw the environment — and bratty monster — she had created, and she was not pleased.

“If I kept that up,” she said, “how would he ever know how to take care of himself? How would he ever go out into the world on his own?”

I had to reflect on how exhausting it must be to be a single mother to an 8-year-old boy who has no responsibilities and for whom there are no consequences. M’s boy seemed perfectly sweet to me, but I know how things are different when it’s not your kid.

Fortunately, M’s realization lead her to beginning to ween her son from his dependence on her. She did not want to be his world. She did not want to cripple him for adulthood by continuing to infantilize him. I could tell M had committed to making the change, for sanity and well-being of herself and her son.

And I was proud of her, as both a mother and a friend. Consequences, responsibility, freedom, play. These are things kids crave and need to be well rounded. My boy and I may be ready for him to go to the park and to visit neighborhood friends without me attached to his hip, but that was years in the making.

I realized that for some, letting go simply doesn’t come easy. I made the commitment early on when I decided that I would be a working mother. If I was going to college and work a job too, my kids could not have separation anxiety. As a single, working mother, I didn’t have the luxury of pampering my kids with over-protection and shielding them from the outside world.

Not all people see it that way, and that’s OK. But there is beautiful validation when people remark on how independent and well mannered the Boy is. And I’m glad M had her realization in her own time and is working to raise her own, independent, well-mannered, confident and capable young man.

Image by mrhayta

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Posted in My Life

I'm a writer, editor, music nerd, pop culture enthusiast, and opinionated information junkie.