ieh21

Thank you for the great answers. I totally agree with the ADD risk. I'm partially of the opinion not to share the report with the school. Her specialist and her homework tutor need to know to be able to help more efficiently. But her teacher? Maybe not. Getting a diagnostic doesnt change who she is from day to the next. I dont want her labelled. Dyslexia needs to be said because it gives her a few accommodations.

My third-grader most likely has dyslexia. I say most likely because she hasn't yet been officially diagnosed. But she's being followed by a speech therapist, we have an Intervention Plan at school and she is being evaluated for attention-deficit, which many dyslexics also have. So I'm aware there are issues. I spoke at length to the teacher at the beginning of the year. We agreed that her enthusiasm for school should be encouraged and maintained. They have tests every week: grammar, spelling, arithmetic, math. My daughter spends 10 hours a week preparing for these tests. She's very good at everything, except spelling. Her spelling is improving but it is still very very flawed. So in a spelling test, unless all stars align, she's always on the edge of failure. Particularly since now they also have to keep track of grammar in the spelling tests (plurals, gender etc, we're French, it gets complicated). Every week, there's a long note "You have to learn to concentrate better to make fewer mistakes..." "You have to make an effort blah blah blah" "You need to prepare better for the spelling tests etc". Mind you, she's getting 90-100% in all other parts of the weekly evaluation, and no comment is made there. OH MY GOD. This is a NEUROLOGICAL problems. It is not a problem of effort or willpower. It's like telling a blind child they should make an effort to see more clearly. You gave a dyslexic child a spelling test and she got a bad grade, proving that... she has dyslexia and spelling problems. The children can learn to cope. Maybe my daughter needs to use her tools better. But telling an eight-year old that she should make more of an effort when all she does is make an effort, that's just soul-crushing. She reads this note and thinks "wow, I already make all this effort and I'm being told to make more effort in order to succeed. That's just not possible. So I will never succeed." I cannot wait for the parent-teacher meeting. I always try to empathise with the teacher. My child does require more work. The teacher has 20 kids. Maybe I should be doing more to help her. etc. But right now, I'm sick and tired of reading this unhelpful rubbish. I'll be asking her to stop commenting on the spelling tests. My daughter knows that a 60% grade is not good. But unless you're going to write a gushing note for the 100% in math, don't say anything at all.

I agree that there is a high-level of stress that we feel to be the keeper of memories. But memories are organised is so many different ways, keeping them doesn't have to be a project. I say this partially because I feel guilty about finding a wonderful stash of childhood and his family photos, letting them sit long enough that they became all rolled up and still not doing anything to save them. But I also believe it: we have some picture montages on the walls of trips we took together, and I left a few of "his" decorative pieces lying around. So there are objects around which to focus when I tell them stories. He remains part of our daily lives this way. His "presence" is tangible. And I tell them stories as inspiration strikes. We're eating salmon, and I'll tell them how it was his favourite food. It's not a perfect system. But at the end of the day, it's not a perfect life either. And we cannot with our memories and artefacts do the impossible, which is to keep them alive.

So cathartic, good for you. Joe's parents are clutter freaks and he liked a lot of their stuff (I dont at all.) I always feared having a house full of their stuff once they died. Good job getting on top of it!

Thank you, to you too.

To all widows, you are doing a challenging job in challenging circumstances. May you all be celebrated today. You deserve it.

Thank you all for your thoughtfulness. I'll drop off the DCs for lunch and go run some errands. That's what I do monthly anyway and it seems to make her happy. My DCs don't seem to be bothered. If it wasn't for them, we'd have no relationship at all, so that is more meaningful than me trying to chat with her for any length of time. I don't discount her I love yous because she's spoiled but because they are meaningless. They are words she says to create an artificial bond that she needs, there is nothing reciprocal. She was a terrible mother to DH in many respects by taking selfish to another level. like a child who is only about self-preservation. To me, the words and the feeling behind them are too important to just throw around.

Mother's Day is coming up. I don't really have a relationship with MIL. She is a child, not a fully-grown woman. She has led her life depending on others and being taken care of by her father, then her husband. As a result, she's always put her needs ahead of anyone else's. Despite this, I don't think that she is a bad person. She is just someone whose company I don't enjoy. She wants me to love her, but I find that oppressive. Her constant "I love you" "I miss you", they are intrusive to me. We didn't have a relationship before Joe died. We still don't. I bring my DCs to see them, once a month. I feel this is my only responsibility, to my DH, to the DCs. But otherwise, I don't want her as a responsibility. FIL is sick, he has Parkinson's, so now she is a caregiver and HATES it. She lost her son and her only sister. She doesn't say "I love you" because of who I am, she says "I love you" because she needs someone to rely on. She doesn't know any better. So Mother's Day comes along, and she really wants me to do something with her. But she isn't my mother. I don't like to entertain her idea that we have a bond. It annoys me because one of the only negative feelings I still harbour, five years later, is an irrational anger at the injustice that they are still alive and Joe isn't. That I am stuck having them in my life when I don't want to. In past years, on Mother's Day, I have limited it to a text message. We saw them either the week before or after, but pointedly not on Mother's Day. This year I feel oddly guilty about it. She's been reminding me that it's Mother's Day for the past two days. Asking me if I have plans over the weekend. Should I do something? I asked this question of people who are not in our sub-sector of the world. Everyone unanimously felt horribly that I would even suggest to leave this poor mother alone on Mother's Day. Yet that didn't quite convince me that I should go out of my way... Any thoughts from widow(er)land?

I had the same feeling, during the Arab Spring. Your feelings regarding not missing him are very familiar. Life literally does go on and patterns are created that fill the initial void. There are still events I would like to experience with him. There are still thoughts I'd like to share. But overall, he isn't there anymore, and that's the reality of it.

My Eldest daughter is 8 and she's become a GREAT fan of April Fool's. No idea why. She even made a bag full of paper fish to stick on people's backs (we're French-speaking and in our world, April Fool's is called April Fish day. The most common, old school prank is to quietly stick a paper fish in someone's back so that they walk around with it all day.) Last night, I left aside my chores and frustrations for a moment to join her in her enthusiasm. So after the girls went to sleep, I changed all their clothes drawers around. Then I switched them beds (they slept through it). I also pranked the nanny by changing the kitchen ustensil drawers around. It took no effort, but wow, this morning, it was like I bought her a car. She was SO psyched by the pranks I had played on her. She immediately came into my room to give me a big hug (a rather non-subtle way to stick a fish in my back). And she said something that really warmed my heart: "Maman, is every family fun enough that they play pranks in the morning of April Fool's?" I don't know, but hope you can all share a little bit of fun with your families today, still 9 hours to go...

wow you guys! Amazing, as always. my hamster went to sleep. And has now left until the next "crisis". I hope you all have a good, hamster-free weekend.

I also get annoyed, but then I also think "wow, this person is going to hit a wall once the intense support fades away". It always does, I mean people still support you but eventually, the superficial support leaves. So I can imagine that for someone who grieves very publicly, because they need it, it must be very hard to be alone all of a sudden.

I find it really hard, living alone, to get myself out of mental loops. I can't always bother my friends, my torments are rather minor in reality, yet they torment me mercilessly and it affects my mood. Today I had a large document to prepare. I did with success. I used an Outlook list, double-checked everyone was on it, then hit send. No sooner did I hear the "ding!" of my colleague's computer that I heard her holler that one person was missing from the list. WHAT?? Clearly I did something wrong. I went back and sent the document to the missing person. Simple as that, he now has the same info as everyone else, no harm done. Except I've been tormenting myself for HOURS about this. I want to kick myself for having made this mistake, not the least because my colleague saw it (i.e. my ego is hurt that the mistake was public). Ironically, I'm very forgiving of the mistakes of my employees and colleagues. As long as things are fixed, it's all good. When Joe was alive, he would either make me feel better, or distract me by virtue of being there and distracting me. Now, once the children are in bed, there's nothing but me and the hamster in my head. How do you get rid of the hamster?

I'm so sorry for your loss. You are not uncaring. Your father's death is very sad, you have lost a lot, and the context is simply different. You will grieve your father differently, not with tears, but in a different way. It's nice, in a sad way, that you can now comfort your mother, having been there first. not the same experience, but the same loss. Good luck to all of you.

Hopefully the books he's reading will help him in a way. Good litterature has a way of doing that. Good luck with the wait.

I have become the expert of help-getting. It was a major adjustment and at first I was horrified at the imbalance between helped required and help reciprocated. I gave gifts, wrote thank you notes, until I realized that people did it to make themselves feel better, or because they truly cared about me and the girls. So no one thought anything of it. The other thing I realized is that ALL parents need help. I became part of a group of moms and I was astounded to see that they all relied on one another "can you pick up Johny" "do you mind buying an extra set of colouring pencils when you're at the store" "I need to buy tiles, can I drop off Ann?". I had always thought I was singular in my need to ask people, and there I was in a group of people who were in perfect situations and STILL needed help. That's when I realized that getting help is just a good parenting skill. Like the ability to change diapers with one hand. It's not a widowhood/widowerhood skill, it's something you develop with you have children that is a useful way to make sure your children don't suffer from your inability to be at all places at all times. then I also understood that my own ability to reciprocate came in ways I never anticipated. Sometimes someone needed advice in a field I know well. Hey, I can do that! The reciprocation of help is wider than the transaction between two people. that helped me too. I felt less like things were going in one direction since I was actually overall keeping a good balance. It also helps to offer others help a lot. Even if it's small things, and even if you are turned down. "I'm at the farmers' market, need carrots?" At least this way you feel like you are trying to reciprocate to the best of your abilities. Make you feel less of a taker and more of a giver. Lastly, I also learned that I had to get over that internal hurdle for the greater good. You say it yourself: the momtobe's feelings count too. that is worth trying to set aside your discomfort. You are not doing this for yourself, you are doing it for someone else. Maybe seeing this way helps you reach out. Good luck. So many adjustments. It isn't easy.

Leave Stepford with positive thoughts? I imagined more of a Michael Bay departure: badass Sugarbell in a long leather coat, hair flowing walking toward the audience in slow motion with a town ablaze behind her. Turns to someone offscreen "You dont do what you want to do, you do what you have to do. There was no other way to get rid of evil." Just me? Very glad you're leaving soon.

I bought a new computer. I installed it. I eventually figured out that no, they don't update peripheral drivers indefinitely and yes at some point when your peripherals are older than your eldest child, you have no choice but to change them. Yes ieh21, even when they still work so well and what a waste of money and the earth will surely collapse under the weight of these prematurely discarded printers. Go to Staples and get a nice modern inkjet that does duplexing in colour. It was a wee bit sad. Joe was our IT expert. And he was not a dilettante, this was his thing. He found us a fujitsu scanner in 2009 that was very cute and useful at a time when scanners werent so prevalent. Sadly Apple progressed from Lion to El Capitan and I have to say goodbye to our little magic scanner. I have to say goodbye to these objects that represent him so symbolically. Dismantling his imprint one power cord at a time. What's left is what he taught me. How to research these things, how to determine my needs, how to resolve IT problems (well, other than yell "Joooooooooeeeeee! This doesn't wooooorkkkk!") Thank you Joe. I never knew I had learned that much. I was listening better than you thought I was. Another slice of my life. I'm glad to have a place to share it.

The little things have a way of being disproportionately frazzling! Hope the class went well. Thank goodness for useful dads.

There is not much to say. My youngest lost her dad when she was three weeks old, which is very much like before she was born. Sometimes she will say things like "I am sad because I miss papa". Some of these times I think she is being genuine in her feelings, and others, she's angling to get something. She's five. So in a way, I understand your family. My own family (who has no love lost for my inlaws) expresses similar things when she expresses any form of grief. It's possible that sometimes it's me projecting on her. That is possible. And it's possible that other times she is genuinely expressing grief. There's no way to tell. My own reaction is to go with my gut in the situation. If it's 8:30PM and she comes to me way past bedtime, telling me she can't sleep because she misses her dad, I might be inclined to think that she's trying to pull at my heart strings to stay up late. If we're coming back from an activity with another family and she says that she misses having a father, I might be inclined to believe what she's expressing. You know your child. there is no magic recipe on how to help them deal. Others have suggested books but even books are not universal. Stay open to his expressions of grief, show your own grief in a measured way. Just don't let him get away with things (he still needs boundaries) and show open-mindedness.

I don't really want to marry anyone and I'm not sure that I'll ever successful at dating. I tried Jdate and Match, I tried blind dates. I'm reasonably friendly with everyone and I've shown openness to meeting people. But everyone around me is 100% married. There's a small part of me that tells me that I really should give it my "110%" as they often say in hockey, before I conclude that I had two great loves in my life (one of whom was obvs my DH) and now it's over. At 45. That small part of me thinks this would be a sad outcome. So I started to wonder about matchmaking services. They sound like a scam to me. Why would I go through a service if websites exist? What would the service bring to me that I can't find just browsing through profiles? Is it that the people who are paying for the service are de facto more committed to the act of dating than people on websites (who typically pay a lot less)? Is it that getting a dating to-do list of people to contact is more likely to get people interested? Is it a confirmation bias, ie if the matchmaker told me I would like this person, I will probably like this person, therefore I should give this person a try? I don't have money I want to burn. I can afford this, but I don't want to just abandon all logic. Has anyone tried a matchmaking service? Was the experience positive? Thanks.

My DD turned three the day after he died. She came to me one day with the phone and asked me to call DH at the hospital because she wanted to know something. I had to sit her down to tell her he died. I did do a lot of talking about him being "in the sky". She's found a lot of comfort in this. I think she is now old enough (8) to understand that I don't mean this literally. But around 3-4 she's also said things like "we should die fast because we want to see daddy soon". or, "if I die when I'm old, will daddy remember me?" My second DD was three weeks old. So she doesn't know what it's like to have a dad. She is now 5 and she's never really seemed interested in him when she was growing up. I talk about him once in a while, we go visit their paternal grandparents, but overall, she's shown little interest. She's also grown up with the idea that he is "in the sky". We send up helium balloons on special occasions, with cards or drawings for him. That seems to have captured her imagination because every time she is given a balloon she wants to send it up to him. And she said to me, as we were boarding a plane, that she wanted to sit at the window seat in case we get a glimpse of daddy in the sky. Overall, they're mostly matter-of-fact about it. Someone will say "how come you have no daddy in your house?" or "where is your daddy, why isn't he at your birthday party?" and either of them will respond "my daddy is dead, silly!" They do attach very much to the men in our entourage. The Eldest especially in the first years, would climb on any male friend's lap and seek his attention. That's calmed down now, for both of them. They are comfortable with some of the adult men they know, and no longer seem to seek out men as ersatz dads. Let her express what she wants to express and take it very much at face value. Kids are rarely very much at a second degree. Sometimes they say things so literally that it's hard for us to understand.

Are you in an urban area? I never understood the rush to get a license. But I've always lived in an urban setting with public transit available. And even when I wanted to visit friends in suburbs, there were buses, or my bike, to get there. My parents laughed when I suggested that people got their license at 16. I eventually got mine at 19. And then drove nowhere. So I'd say, rational or not, unless you live in the boonies, there's no rush to get a licence. I really don't see it as a necessary rite of passage or anything like that. Maybe some of your fears are founded in knowing that your teen isn't really ready after all. An intuition on your part.

OK you guys are going to laugh at the naivet? of my question, just remember I am the mom of a 5 yo and an 8 yo, so what do I know? Does it help at all to tell them that they are in possession of the device primarily for the purpose of keeping in touch with the parent? And as such, if the device isn't used effectively for its main purpose, then its removal is the next logical step? I guess not... And Mike, ehm, in such situations, how would they even have time to chitchat with dad?? Isn't that a sort of a crisis or something? Don't they have emergency situation things to do?? Modern warfare eludes me.

well in that case, extra kudoses to you for doing the right thing for your family, despite the perils to your sanity. Hang in there. I'm glad things are being handled/evolving well and everything might look a little rosier when the commute gets drastically shortened.