Colleges Shoo Away Helicopter Parents

I’ll admit that the concept of “helicopter parent” is still somewhat foreign to me, despite what I have read. The rallying cry of my childhood was, “I’ll do it MYSELF!!” and my folks did everything they could to let me “do it myself” right up until the point where I would injure myself. When it came to college, my folks helped me move into my dorm room, and then I seem to recall chasing them off like they had some highly communicable disease.

I still remember being exceptionally conflicted one winter break when my Dad told me, “Hey, our office needs a receptionist over Christmas break, would you be interested in doing that instead of temping?” While the job sounded great, I also didn’t want to be “Don’s daughter” at the office, lest people think I was just a dingbat whose Dad got her a Christmas job. On top of that, everyone adored him, and I didn’t want to disappoint him, and also wanted NO treatment that was different than anyone else because he was my Dad.

I ended up taking the job and it was great – because everyone (including, and maybe especially, my Dad) was more than willing to dump any and all work on me that they thought I could handle. Right there I knew that I wasn’t a token timesheet. However, I will admit that a perk of working with your Dad is that he will make sure you get lunch before the cafeteria closes for the afternoon. The worst day was the first day – I busted my butt to accomplish anything and everything asked of me – and I wore heels. Then Dad wanted to go Christmas shopping afterwards. I certainly wasn’t going to say, “No Dad, my feet hurt!” I seem to recall walking around Tower Books & Records in Tyson’s in my aching stocking feet, and trying very hard not to cry from the pain. (I’m fairly certain I wore flats for the rest of the engagement.)

The only real time Dad intervened was when I came walking downstairs one morning with a skintone somewhere between green & grey – he took one look at me and said, “You go back to bed, NOW. We can cover the rest for the day.” He was right, as I was rather violently ill for the rest of the day. (Occasionally, parents do know what they’re talking about.)

But that was really the extent of my parents involvement in my college and professional life. Had I asked for assistance, they would have gladly provided it, but they never said, “Let us handle this for you.” It was always, “If we can help somehow, let us know.”

Now, if I had a little one of my own, I am quite sure I’d be insanely protective of them. However, I would also like to think that I’d raised them in such a manner that when the time came to do things on their own, they could do it without my intervening on every level. I really can’t comprehend getting terribly involved in their college careers other than providing $$ for tuition and board, and being a sounding board when they needed it, or getting involved in the job process other than, “Want me to fake interview you?” In my mind, beyond that, you’re not helping, you’re just hindering their independence.

Then, it took FOUR calls to Sears to get a human being to confirm delivery of my new fridge tomorrow. While their voice automated system happily parroted back everything I said, it had an unfortunate tendency to disconnect halfway through the call. Once I got to a REAL lady on the other end of the line, I found that they had not finalized the delivery schedule for 8/18/2010. Yippee… However, to their credit, their “tomorrow’s delivery announcement” call did arrive and in theory my fridge will be here between 11:15 and 1:15 tomorrow. (Donald says 4:00PM. But I have faith.)

Last night, my awesome little brother noticed a burned-out taillight on my car. It’s inspection month anyway, so – problem solved by getting the car inspected! I even told them about the light when I dropped it off for the inspection & oil change. I missed the “Your car is ready!” voicemail by TWO HOURS, but the message didn’t say “respond or we torch your car” so I think they were OK with my tardy response. I then picked up the car with the the same burned out taillight that I left at the shop. Whiskey Tango Foxtrot. Bonus: got the light fixed for free. Oh, and the “recommended ‘mini’ tune-up – yeah, they didn’t have the “right” spark plugs for my Jeep.

Missed the alarm on my phone to send my friend M a reminder text. I am quite certain the alarm went off, but I either missed it or was so distracted by everything else going sideways that it didn’t register.

I’ve also spent more than a few minutes sanding down my bamboo knitting needles, cause Carmen thought they were SPECTACULAR chew toys. (She doesn’t understand that the spectacularly wonderful binkie she had in the shelter came off MY knitting needles.)

Then I saw the weather report for tomorrow: I can condense it to: Monsoon. During which time my fridge will be delivered. Said fridge which has to go through the side yard and backyard to the back door to fit inside my house. The delivery men are going to HATE me. Oh, and Lily decided it would be great to explore the Great Outdoors while I attempted to measure the front (not quite wide enough) door!

All I ask is for tomorrow to be really, really quiet and uneventful.

Was incredibly happy to run into some folks that I didn’t know would be there and haven’t seen ages – it was so good to see some really special people again and I didn’t call it a night until about 3:30 AM. I’d say it was a success. Maybe we’ll all do a better job of keeping in touch this go round. “Hit me up on Facebook” just wasn’t a phrase you heard 10 years ago.

The funniest thing I found was that we’re all twice the age of when we left high school – and nobody has really changed at all. It’s nice to have a few constants in life after 20 years.

Part of the reason I’m not feeling particularly optimistic about the sweet escape to dreamland is that my brain has been going about 150MPH all day today, and it’s only gotten worse as the day has progressed into the evening. It’s been a day where every self-doubt, every question of choices made, and the rest of my mental flotsam and jetsam has decided to come bubbling up to the surface.

I was talking with a friend earlier about a mutual friend who had gone off and tried something new and potentially terrifying. Granted, it was a no-lose situation, but he went outside his comfort zone to do it. And we were both proud of him for the attempt, regardless of the outcome.

There was a time where I told The Universe, “Bring it on!!” Which she did, in spades. (Yeah, tempting Fate in the first place ain’t the greatest idea.)

But she’s winged about as much as she could at my head, and I’ve managed to survive it.

However, it’s left me ridiculously gun-shy. And I really hate that I’ve become a rather timid person for it – for no other reason that I’m tired of the fact that the Fates decided to have a psychotic break while cutting my strings.

But I just don’t want to discover that The Universe has more fun and games in store for me. I’ve had enough at this point, thankyouverymuch.

When you can’t convince yourself that anything new won’t end in spectacular disaster, it’s hard to psych yourself up for anything new and outside your comfort zone.

It’s quite an annoying spot to find yourself in.

And then that bitch of insomnia shows up last night.  I had a great plan – I was going to go to bed early, get a great night’s sleep, get up and conquer the world today.  The fact that I am talking about it likely indicates that it didn’t work out.

First, I stayed up WAY too late being a couch potato and watching TV.  Which in and of itself isn’t the worst thing in the world, but I was mildly annoyed with the fact that I’d not been paying a whit of attention to the time and turned off the TV at 3AM.

Went to bed, nice and tired, and could NOT fall asleep.  I’d start to drift off, and then I’d hear a noise.  Or some random thought would pop in my head.  Or Lily would be jumping up on the high boy again (which she knows she isn’t allowed to do) and I’d be awake again.  Then it was 4AM.  Then 5AM.  Then the Metrobuses started coming through.  The last look I got at the clock was 6AM, and I was briefly contemplating just getting up and going out for breakfast.  Apparently I finally fell asleep before I could attempt to follow through on that idea.

What sleep I did get was total crap as it was filled with odd dreams and when I woke up, I felt a bit like I’d been hit by a truck and with a mental state I’d graciously describe as cranky.  On top of it?  Craptastic weather!

It’s not a confluence of events that is particularly conducive to productivity.  I think the trip to the store should wait until there is a smaller chance of my bitch slapping a clerk.

This is a habit made worse of late by grandma & her issues – because I couldn’t fathom up and taking off for a couple days while she was burning up the phone lines 24/7. Not because my brother couldn’t handle it, but there was no way in hell I’d hand that bit of hell off to someone else so I could go goof off. (For not being Catholic or Jewish, I have the guilt thing really mastered.)

But, now that we’ve got another local, able and willing body on the grandma situation (sounds sterile, but I don’t know another good way to put it) I FINALLY feel like I can skip out of town for a few days without feeling like I’ve dumped everything on my brother. (Or on the wonderful caregivers, since they have figured out how to split their time, so no one is getting smothered.)

And off I go. Tomorrow I am heading a couple hours south to Williamsburg to mainline some history. A trip I have been talking about since March. Of last year. But last night, I said, “Dammit, I’m going to Williamsburg for a few days!!!”`

The last time I said, “I can go do something fun and just enjoy it with no worries!” was March of 2007 when I went to the Philly Flower Show.

Three years is much too long to go without a little break from reality.*

But I’m finally being SMART and doing it. So, if there is any particular Colonial Williamsburg souvenir you’re looking for, let me know – I’ll try my best to get it for you. :)

*Yes, we’ve gone to the beach, but the call forwarding & grandma’s issues came along for the ride. I was that idiot on the beach answering my cell phone.

That being said, I have come to appreciate the whole idea of Lent.*  Much more so when I discovered that the Vatican apparently said at some point that Lent didn’t have to be so much about giving something up as much as trying to do a little more good.  (No, I have no citation for this – it is simply something I read somewhere and it stuck with me – it could be complete manufactured nonsense aimed at getting people to stop giving up broccoli for Lent and encouraging them to volunteer at the library.)

There is a common theme out there of it takes 21 days to make or break a habit – yet studies have shown it takes more along the lines of 6 weeks.  Well – 40 days of Lent fills that bill quite nicely.  And you get a bye on Sundays to boot.  It’s perfect if you’re trying to make a few changes, regardless of whether it’s ditching a bad habit, creating a good one, or both.

For whatever reason – kicking it off in February seems to ever so slightly less arbitrary than January 1 – if only because Mardi Gras is a moving target every year.  That, and Lent has an end date, which New Year’s Resolutions do not.  If after 40 days, you say, “To hell with this, I did it for 40 days, hated it, it’s not an ingrained habit by now and obviously it isn’t going to be anytime soon!” you can chuck it out the window and give it another whirl next year.  Because you at least gave it a go for a decent amount of time, whereas with NYR’s there is no end in sight and you have no marker of “I have done well” or “I suck at this” and given that, one tends to trash it all in the space of  two and a half weeks.

That all being said, I am ditching the pool hall for Lent to get rid of a bad habit (so far, not too bad) and picking up the better habit of attempting to be a better homeowner/housekeeper/cook.  (One of the three a day, not all every day.)  Things are a tad more sketchy on that front, but I’m still mindful of it – and I’ll either have a few better routines in place by Easter and I can carry those throughout the rest of the year, or I’ll still be a slob.  But I’m still giving it the old college try anyway.

So yes, I am co-opting Lent for my own selfish personal growth.  But in the end, it should not just better for me, but others as well.  So it’s not death-by-lightning worthy, right?

We’ll know if I post on Easter.

*I certainly did NOT get this as a child.  We didn’t muck around with Lent and I could not fathom why my Catholic friends would give up things such as chocolate rather than something from the vegetable family.  It seemed quite strange to not pick a path with a better chance of success.

– YAY for having friends working at a decent auto service station!  They can tell you the best time to show up to get your headlight replaced so you’re only waiting for five minutes instead of three hours.  (And bonus points for him getting the job done in no time flat despite the fact that I was seriously hovering watching what he was doing – only to come to the conclusion that had I tried to do it myself, I’d have likely broken $750+ of other car parts in the process.)

– Spring training is underway!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  Enough said.

– Yet another “NBC, you do seem to WANT to lose $200M on the Olympics given the way you’re doing this coverage” annoyance.  I really enjoy Curling.  The commentators seem to like it, too.  They talk about how each throw can make a difference.  And yet NBC will cut to commercials and skip 4 ends.  That, and I have also seen the same damn interviews of the same damn medal winners multiple times.  Kids, you did good, but your 15 minutes are OVER the second the next event starts.  I don’t care how you did it for the time being, because I would like to see others do their thing to get a medal rather than an interview with you.  It’s nothing personal, I’m just trying to see as many events as I can, and your interviews are really screwing that up.

– And on another sports note, I finally can admit that I can see the advantage to HDTV.  I have a normal TV, and it’s fine.  They say HDTV is awesome for sports – my only experience with it has been up at the pub.  Yes, it’s great because I can see the scores much easier on the screen.  But I have no need to see every individual blades of grass on the field.  HOWEVER – when you’re watching Curling??!?  You can EASILY see which stone is closest to the center.  Yes, Curling of all sports has made me an HDTV convert.

– More Curling.  I didn’t get to see a whole lot of Curling in the Torino Olympics because I was still spending an inordinate amount of time trying to teach people how to use my company’s accounting software, and I was being taunted on a near daily basis by my brother sending me IM’s of “I’ve seen more Curling before 9AM than most people see in a lifetime.”  But what I did see, I really liked.  And this go round, I’m not the only one.  I have come to the conclusion that it is an Olympic event that people watch and say, “Hey, that is something I could learn how to do!” Not necessarily on an Olympic level, but it’ss something that looks fun and doable for your normal person with the desire to learn the game.  You can’t really say that about a lot of the other events.  (I would have said it about cross country skiing until Petra Majdic skidded off the course and ended up with four broken ribs and a punctured lung.  I’ll stick with being the girl at the lodge ordering everyone’s drinks.)

– Even more Curling.  It’s become a well enough known event that no one even batted an eye as I found myself YELLING at the TV at the pub watching the Canadian ladies versus the ladies from Denmark.  I even had people asking me if a point had been scored.  (Thanks to little bro for giving me the scoring/hammer refresher course when things kicked off.  There aren’t a lot of televised Curling events outside of the Games.)  OH CANADA!

– The Snow.  It really needs to seriously melt down.  We’re supposedly getting a wintry mix turning to rain on Monday, and I am all for it.  The awesomedog even moreso.  The poor little guy is losing his mind.  He has the track I cut for him through the backyard, and he is willing to go snowplowing through the rest if he sees something interesting, but it’s certainly not the same as having his whole yard to bounce around in.  So he’s going a tiny bit nuts.  As am I – I love that the snowcover makes everything brighter, which is great in the winter.  However, I am wondering about permanent retinal damage due to the snowblindness every time I look out the window.

– Lent.  It’s somewhat entertaining to watch the confused looks of people when you have given up/tried to improve/done a few more good things for Lent and you’re not Catholic  I don’t do it to mock, it just seems like a slightly better idea to try and improve things during the Lenten season than doing the 1/1 resolution thing that gets broken within a week anyway.  (Despite my lack of overt religiousness, I do still have a few shreds of faith left, so it works for me.)

– And tomorrow is Saturday, so I can sleep in with no guilt over it whatsoever.  Hoorah for weekends.

I also love that it brings out such great national pride for everyone and it doesn’t have a damn thing to do with politics.  Just good old fashioned feats of strength, and you’ve gotta love that.

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I’ve put out a bunch of birdseed out on the snow on the deck.  The cats are going to lose their minds.  I really thought Carmen was going to explode when the squirrels showed up.  Speaking of the cats, I still do not understand how two rather petite felines (6 & 7.5#) can sound like baby rhinoceroses when they’re playing upstairs.  I’m never quite sure if they’re just having fun or if the roof is caving in.

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I’ve been playing a lot of Scrabble this past week on Facebook, because there’s not a lot else to do when snowed in and I figure it’s good for my brain.  I used to think I was a relatively intelligent person, but given my win-loss record and ranking, I’m starting to think that perhaps it’s unsafe for me to be left unsupervised.  Today I actually had to play the word cat.  CAT.  I think that automatically knocks 50 points off your ranking.

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We’re supposed to get more snow on Monday.  Just a clipper, maybe 3-6″ – basically a normal snowfall for around here.  I find myself completely scoffing at it.  This is what a winter with 70″ of snow will do to you.

Ran up to the store to do a quick restocking as we are getting perilously low on dog biscuits and while the soda situation is OK for now, little bro is on his way home and we can plow through them.  Easy enough.  HAHAHAHAHA.  This is how I shopped today:

Hit dog biscuit aisle.  Get biscuits.  Hey, Mox doesn’t have any Beggin Strips.  Or Pupperonis.  Or those little steak things he likes! I should probably grab some more cat treats, too…

Hit soda aisle.  Grab Cokes.  Spy mixer aisle.  I do have that big assed bottle of tequila and no Margarita mix…and I should grab some more OJ cause it’s kind of crappy tequila.

Walk by beer section.  Well, can you really have too much beer on hand?  It’s not like it will go bad before its consumed…

Swing by bread aisle just for giggles.  Wait, there is still regular white bread?  When I make the ham salad, the white bread we do have will disappear before we run out of ham salad.  And OMG, Pita bread!!  I can make fake paninis!

Realize it’s getting ridiculous and head for the checkout.  OOHHH!!  Peanut butter crackers!  I love those!!