I’ve been writing about getting in to and paying for college, but another thing I’ve been thinking about is my life once the kids are actually at college.
So much of my time and energy right now is spent on them and their school - I drive them around, feed them, talk with them, and generally make sure they’re doing what they need and want to do. I volunteer each week at their school, serving on committees and the PTA board, and helping to run events.
In fact, I was thinking earlier this week that parenting them really is my "job" right now. I'm blessed to be able to say that, but I do have some mixed feelings about it as it relates to identity. But that's for another post.
When I look ahead to 2025, when my youngest graduates from high school, I see all this time that needs filling in a way that will keep me happy and healthy.
I think a lot about going back to work, and obviously, additional income would be great to pay for college. I'm just not sure what I’d do. I’m not even sure I still want to be a lawyer. I think about taking classes, and in fact, I registered for an online class at UCLA Extension. We’ll see how it goes.
I think about getting out of the house. Right now, even though I work at home, I get plenty of adult interaction because I’m so involved at school. But obviously that will change once my youngest goes off to college.
I think about getting a dog, especially if I'm still working from home. But as my husband keeps reminding me, a dog will hinder travel plans, and I do like to travel.
Do you have any advice for how to prepare for an empty nest?
In September 2010, I quit my full-time job as a lawyer so I could be home when my oldest child started kindergarten. We worked hard to make it possible, paying off my student loans and building up a substantial emergency fund.
Looking back, I can see that I had some real trouble with the transition. Not that I had regrets – I didn’t miss the job, and I loved being able to take my son to school and pick him up every day. I also became an involved parent, volunteering with the PTA and School Site Council.
But I struggled mightily with my identity. I’d been an attorney for ten years, so when someone asked what I did, “blogger” just didn’t sound right. It was an identity, but I wasn’t amazingly successful – I had a small audience, and I made a (very) small income. And not only was it not prestigious, a lot of people didn’t even know what it meant to be a blogger back then. So it was hard to let go of the “attorney” label and embrace “blogger” instead.
I did come to understand the importance of different identities. When I felt like a terrible wife or mother, it helped to have blogging to turn to. Even if I wasn’t thriving as a blogger, at least I was consistent and it was something that was just for me and my readers; it didn’t involve my family. Conversely, if I got down about blogging, I knew that at least I was a valuable volunteer at school, a good mother, etc.
Eventually, I made peace with the blogger identity, especially after I got a few freelance gigs that made me feel like more of a “writer” and not just a “blogger.” These days, when someone asks what I do, I tell them I’m a freelance writer and blogger.
But because my “blogger” identity has always seemed so insignificant compared to the “attorney” identity – both in hours and income – I’ve hesitated to call myself a work at home mom. I’ve always felt more like a stay at home mom who happens to have a part-time side gig.
Most importantly, I have loved being home since my kids started school. It’s allowed me to spend a lot more time with them, and some of our best conversations take place in the car on the way home from school. I’ve been an active volunteer every school year, so I know what’s going on and have developed relationships with other parents, teachers, and staff. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
If you’re looking to become a stay at home or work at home mom, I have some advice:
Start your planning early, because you may need time – maybe even years – before you feel comfortable quitting your job.
Sort out the finances first. You want to make your financial situation as low-stress as possible. Pay off debt. Save at least one year’s worth of living expenses. Run the numbers over and over to make sure you can pay your expenses with just one income. If you can, save your income for a few months while you live off your partner’s income, so you know you can make the one-income lifestyle work.
Think about how you’ll spend your time once you’re home. For the reasons discussed above, it’s important to have more identities than just mom and wife, or dad and husband. You don’t necessarily have to work, but maybe you can volunteer, whether it’s at school or a different organization that’s important to you. Or maybe you can take classes, paint, or grow a garden.
Plan for a social life. Being a stay at home or work at home parent can be very isolating. While you’ll probably make friends with other parents, especially if you’re involved at school, be sure to make plans to see friends away from the children. I’ve always enjoyed the post-drop-off coffee or walk, and I try to meet a friend for lunch or dinner at least once a month.
Be prepared for changes to your parenting partnership, because your partner is also making an adjustment. My husband had a rough time because I had a rough time. Set some clear expectations too, especially around the division of responsibility regarding housework, childcare, meals, etc.
Above all, be kind to yourself. Becoming a stay or work at home parent is a transition, and it’s going to take some getting used to.
I do a lot of research on the topic of parenting, because being the best mother I can be is incredibly important to me. And it seems like every other article, blog post and podcast I come across is directly or indirectly about the stress and anxiety that teens feel.
Some teens feel incredible pressure to perform at school - to get straight A's, take the most rigorous courses offered at their school, and make sure they can check all the right boxes about extracurricular activities on their college applications. Some teens feel a tremendous amount of social pressure - to have the "right" look and the "right" friends. And of course, some teens feel both kinds of pressure and more.
One of my favorite sites is Growing Leaders, where Tim Elmore writes often about the struggles young people deal with today. And one of my favorite authors, Rachel Macy Stafford, often talks about teens and their mental health, and she just wrote a book for teens, although I can't find direct reference to it on her website.
My oldest son just started high school, and I know he's already feeling the pressure to perform academically. He's always been an outstanding student, but now the grades really matter, because they'll be part of his college applications.
For my part, I've been thinking about college for a while now, and while I've mostly focused on how to pay for my kids' educations, a big factor in the financial side of things is their academic performance in high school, because it can result in merit scholarships.
One thing I realized as I started my research is that it's important to think beyond the goal of getting into college. Because that’s not really the end goal. The real long-term goal is about helping my kids set themselves up for a productive and happy future.
I’m sure that means something different for every family, but for ours, it means graduating from college with little to no debt, and in a position to embark on a career they’re excited to pursue. As we start the high school journey, I want to keep reminding my son that while the portfolio he’s building for his college application is supremely important, it’s not the ultimate goal.
If we get to his senior year and he doesn’t get into his first-choice college, I don't want him to feel like his entire life is now a failure. Conversely, if he does get into his first-choice school, I don't want him to feel like he’s fulfilled his life's purpose.
In essence, I don’t want getting into college to be more important than it should be.
If you have a high school student, how do you handle all the stress and anxiety?
I've had my share of parenting failures, and I've come to realize they come in different varieties. There are the times when I yelled to make a point, the times when I'm impatient because of my own insecurities, and maybe worst of all, the times when I failed to prepare my children for a situation.
I had one of the latter recently. My kids have had very different childhoods from mine. When I was growing up, there were so many social situations of all kinds. But for a number of reasons, my kids haven't had the same exposure. Recently, we received an invitation to a grand 80th birthday party that I didn't want to turn down. I RSVP'd for three of us, because one of the boys had a soccer match scheduled for the exact time of the party, but he was injured in a match the day before and couldn't play the next day. So I contacted the host, explained the situation, and asked if we could bring our other child.
The answer was yes, but with the caveat that he couldn't sit with us because there wasn't room at the table. I wasn't expecting assigned seats, so that caught me off guard. I knew my son would be miserable at a table full of strangers. But most of all, I felt like I had failed him by not exposing him to more situations like this one. It wasn't that I was worried he'd behave poorly; it was that I knew he'd be incredibly uncomfortable, not just because he wouldn't know the other kids, but because he'd never been to a party like this one in a banquet hall full of tables.
I hated feeling like I'd failed as a parent. At times in the past, I might have spiraled down from that feeling, but now I have nearly fifteen years of parenting under my belt, and I know how hard I've worked to be the best parent I can be. I'm not the best parent, let alone the perfect parent, but I know that I'm a "good enough" parent.
Let's be clear - there's no such thing as the perfect parent. But almost certainly, you're also a good enough parent (assuming you're not abusing your child).
If you're trying your best, you're a good enough parent.
If you try to put yourself in your child's shoes and understand how they're feeling, you're a good enough parent.
If you read parenting books and blogs, listen to parenting podcasts, and seek out other parents' advice, you're a good enough parent.
If you want your children to be happy, you're a good enough parent.
Stop being so hard on yourself - because you’re a good enough parent. And always remember, there’s no such thing as a perfect parent!
My boys are now 14 and 12, and we've had our share of conflicts over the years. There were times when I was so frustrated with them that I just wanted to give up. I no longer remember the specific cause, but I do know that there were times when I decided to do just that. I walked away, resigned.
But after a few times of walking away, I realized I never meant it. And so I started telling them that. I would say, "I'm frustrated, and I don't know how we're going to get through this, but I'm not giving up. You're my son and I love you, so I can't."
At first, I don't think they believed me. They would ask, "Why? Just go away."
And the answer to that was always, "I love you, even though we're going through a rough patch."
I've come to realize that since I started saying this years ago, it's given a certain stability to our conflicts today. They don't have the doubt that I used to sense when they were younger, that somehow I would stop loving them.
As parents, we love our children so completely that I think sometimes it's impossible to believe anyone would doubt our feelings - especially the object of those feelings. But even though actions can speak louder than words, words are important, too.
If I'd never said anything but kept showing up, eventually my kids would have realized that I'll always be there for them.
But by telling them as well as showing them, my kids understood that I was making a conscious decision to be there for them. And that reassurance has made a big difference.
I've been on my own for a while now - I'm happily married with two healthy children, and I have a nice home, good friends, and work I love. But twenty years ago, I'd just graduated from law school, had a six-figure student loan debt, and a moderate new-attorney salary.
Throughout law school, I worked part-time and took out student loans to pay not just the tuition but some of my living expenses. I went clubbing with friends, regularly ate out, and rarely hesitated to buy new clothes, shoes, books, or anything else I wanted. We were never a wealthy family growing up, but we were very comfortably middle class, so I continued doing what I had always done. When money got tight, I asked my parents to make my car payments, and they did so without hesitation. Although my father had always talked about the evils of credit card debt, I occasionally carried a balance on my credit cards during law school. The only time I ever remember saying "no" to spending money was when I opted out of a post-bar exam vacation with my girlfriends, and that may have been because I was starting my new job not long after the exam ended.
It was awkward at first, explaining that it would be difficult for me to pay half of the rent, utilities, and groceries, make my loan payments, and have money left over to spend on other things. In essence, my student loan payments made it impossible for me to maintain the same lifestyle he could afford.
That was the first time it hit me: I couldn't maintain the same lifestyle I'd had when I lived with my parents.
It had simply never occurred to me that once I was on my own, I couldn't afford the same lifestyle my parents had given me. And apparently, it's not unusual. Tim Elmore recently wrote about a nationwide survey that concluded nearly half of millenials get financial assistance from their parents each month.
If only I'd realized this truth when I was in law school.
I would have shopped less and eaten in more. I would have made more frugal choices. I would still have had student loan debt, but it could have been tens of thousands of dollars less.
Obviously, this is something I plan to discuss with my own children as they near independence. Here are a few things I want to make sure they understand:
The difference between a need and a want - this crucial distinction will help to prioritize expenses
How to make and live by a budget
How living below their means will help them build wealth
Above all, I think they need to understand that they're not entitled to a certain lifestyle. And that mindset will make all the difference as they make their own way in the world.
What's the one thing you wish you'd known when you became independent?
I apparently read them out of order, since What Colleges Don’t Tell You was published first. It just seemed natural to read What High Schools Don’t Tell You first, since my oldest is starting high school. It really doesn’t matter what order you read them in, but I would recommend reading What High Schools Don’t Tell You as early as elementary school, since some of the info applies to kids before they enter middle school.
The one thing you need to know about these books even before you start reading is that they can be overwhelming. Not only is there a lot of information, including "to do" activities, but if you’re like me, you're reading and thinking, "that is just so beyond my child." That was me, reading What High Schools Don’t Tell You.
Then I read the intro to What Colleges Don’t Tell You and it all made sense. The author's kids are those special, amazing, genius-level kids who do all kinds of impressive activities and are super smart. Her boys sang professional opera when they were young, and one won the biggest national science prize for high school students. No wonder she makes it sound like it's all possible.
The friend who turned me onto these books said she couldn't get through High Schools because it was stressing her out too much. She cited the part of the book that said being a camp counselor is a waste of time, and said that she talked with a private college counselor who thought it was a great idea, and so that’s what her son is doing this summer.
And I think it’s great if that’s what works for them. But it wasn't my takeaway from the books.
What I learned is to think outside the box, and to look for ways for my children to stand out. For instance, each summer should involve learning, experiencing, and doing things that are new. That means not repeating the same camps or programs. And it means reaching, even if you fall short. Did you know that high school students can conduct research at a university? They can also start a business or non-profit, create an art portfolio, or publish a blog that showcases their interest, knowledge, and/or skills.
The book illustrates the importance of being creative in helping your child build college credentials. I like the example about the student who asked a bank to let him display his photographs, and he was able to honestly say on his college application that he had a public exhibition of his work.
If you're planning to send your child(ren) to college, and you want them to get into a top school and/or be a standout applicant at any school, definitely give What Colleges Don't Tell You and What High Schools Don't Tell You a read. They just might change the way you approach your child's high school years.
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The question of whether to send your child to public or private school might seem ludicrous, since there are still lots of areas around the country where the norm is to send your child to the neighborhood (public) school. But even in such areas, some families at least consider a private school with a religious affiliation. A friend of mine moved to Seattle and automatically sent her children to public school, but then chose a Catholic school the following year because it was just a better fit, despite the excellent public school.
And here in Los Angeles, the public or private school question is one that a lot of families wrestle with.
Here are five factors you should consider when choosing a school for your child:
1) Can you afford the tuition and fees, not just this year but for up to the next 13 years? This is obviously the most important factor, but you should consider more than your budget when making this decision. If you have more than one child, you'll need to consider whether you'll be able to pay for all of your children to attend private school, if you choose that route. Also, find out whether there are scholarship opportunities or other ways to reduce the cost. For example, Catholic schools frequently offer discounts to parishioners.
2) Is there a better way to use the money? My family (and others I know) have chosen public school so that we can save money for our children's college costs. One of our friends moved to Palos Verdes, choosing to put their money into a house in a neighborhood with good public schools instead of paying for private school in their old neighborhood. Other families might choose to donate more to charity. It all depends on your family's priorities.
3. What is the best fit for your child? Most private schools are smaller than public schools, at least here in Los Angeles. In fact, most of the private schools my friends' children attend have a maximum of two classes, or less than 50 children, per grade. That works for some kids, but not for others. If a child doesn't get along with even a few kids, he might feel trapped and not be able to find a different group of friends, the way he would in a bigger school. Also, if the teacher-student ratio is important to you, find out what the credentials of the adults are, and verify that the presence of an aide isn't being used to lower the ratio.
4. What opportunities are available? Private and public schools can offer very different options. I always envied the organized sports at private elementary and middle schools, but a nearby public middle school has an award-winning media arts program that only the most expensive private schools in our area can compete with. Consider your child's interests and strengths when choosing a school.
5. What are your long-term plans? I always recommend thinking about your child's next school, unless you choose a school that goes through twelfth grade and you're reasonably sure your child will stay through graduation. Will your child move with the same cohort through the years and love it? I know some kids who love it, and others who hated it and asked to change schools at some point. Also, if you want to send your child to a specific high school, find out if there is a "feeder" school that you should consider to maximize your child's chances of getting in.
A few other factors to consider when selecting any school are your closeness to other families with children in the school (i.e., are there other parents you can call to pick up your child if you have an emergency?), the responsiveness of the administration (you might think a private school administrator has more flexibility to give you what you want, but public school administrators have to treat everyone the same), and the proximity of the school to your house and where other students live (e.g., how easy will it be for your child to get together with friends outside of school?).
At least in Los Angeles, the decision of where to send your child to school is often a difficult one, but answering the questions above should help narrow down your choices. It's also important to remember that as long as you're doing your best to make the best choice for your child, no matter what school you choose, he or she will be fine. There is no perfect choice, so don't torture yourself too much. Good luck!
P.S. If you live within the boundaries of LAUSD and want to learn more about magnet schools, I've written a short but very detailed ebook about how the magnet system works. Learn more about the LAUSD Magnets Handbook: A Guide to Geting Your Child into an LAUSD Magnet Schoolhere.
We’re more than halfway through summer vacation, and my 11 and 13 year olds have played countless hours of the incredibly popular video game Fortnite.
I have mixed feelings about it. My primary negative feeling is guilt that they’re getting so much screen time and not off having more adventures. In my defense, they do other things. But playing Fortnite is their most favorite thing to do right now. And my feelings of guilt are outweighed by some serious positives:
They play together - albeit in their separate rooms, on their individual PS4s. Except for those occasions when they fight about what happened in the game, Fortnite has actually reduced the bickering between my boys. In fact, when they're in the same room, they chatter away enthusiastically about Fortnite. This may the best they’ve gotten along since ... well, ever.
They learn the value of money and budgeting. Fortnite is free to play, and like most free games, you can make in-game purchases to make playing easier and/or more fun. You can also earn points through game play, which you can use to upgrade. The boys have been given PlayStation store credit as gifts, which they then have to decide how to spend. I’ve overheard several conversations in which they’ve discussed the best strategic use of their money and points.
Speaking of which ... They learn to think strategically and plan ahead. I know it's not the same as problem solving in the real world, but they have to thwart zombie attacks and other players, just to name a few obstacles.
They socialize with their friends. Again, it's not the same as an in-person playdate. But more and more interpersonal connections are virtual, and Fortnite is the first game we've allowed our boys to play online remotely with friends. It's been an easy way for my kids to learn how to navigate the virtual world, and has re-connected them with friends they don’t physically get together with anymore.
I don't love that my kids love Fortnite, but I'm happy that their current passion is one that they can share with each other and their friends. Nevertheless, I won't complain when they're back in school and forced to spend some time away from their games!
For the last few years, I've been reading a lot about millennials, Generation Z, kids who feel entitled, helicopter parents, and so on. It's been a mild cause for concern, in a distant sort of way.
I may not have the money of a family that sends their children to an elite prep boarding school for tens of thousands of dollars a year, takes "service" vacations so their children can say on their college application that they did volunteer work in a third world country (apparently that's a real thing), or spends thousands more dollars on SAT prep and private college counselors.
But I am the parent who examined matriculation lists to see where a high school's graduates went to college. I wrote off a prominent local Catholic high school because I was unimpressed by their matriculation list - not just no Ivies, UCLA or Stanford, but no Notre Dame or Boston College either. The high school I've chosen routinely sends their alumni to all the UC's, a few Ivies, CalTech, and Stanford.
I've been determined that my children get straight A's, because anything less than an unweighted 4.0 GPA means the top schools won't even consider them. Part of my determination stems from the fact that I know they are capable of excelling in school. But it also means that I've been afraid that any little misstep might derail their future.
It turns out I'm not alone. Where You Go is Not Who You'll Be is filled with stories about parents like me. Our intentions are good - we're just convinced that the way to succeed in life is to do really well in high school and then graduate from a well-known, highly-respected college.
But I'm not convinced anymore. Now I'm convinced that success isn't dependent on where you go to college but on how much you put into it, and how much you get out of it. It's about going to a school where you can thrive, not about the name of the school on your diploma. Hawaii State Senator Kai Kahele gave an inspiring commencement speech at Hawaii Community College in Hilo about why he had to start at HCC (spoiler: he wasn't exactly stellar in high school) and how he'd turned his life around just a few years later:
In case you didn't watch the video above, here's the quick summary: Pete Velasco, a former U.S. Olympics men's volleyball captain, took 19-year-old Senator Kahele under his wing and trained him to be such a good a volleyball player that he went on to play for the University of Hawaii at Manoa, where he went to multiple national championship games. But even more than volleyball, Coach Velasco taught Senator Kahele the value of hard work, the necessity of being willing to fail, and the joy of helping someone else succeed.
This story could fit right in with the anecdotes in Where You Go. My favorite story from the book was about Bobbi Brown, the makeup artist and businesswoman, who wanted to drop out of the University of Arizona. But her parents wanted her to at least get a degree, so her mom asked her what she would do if she could do anything, and Brown said she would play with makeup at the department store makeup counters. Her mom then helped her find a school where she could study makeup, which is how she ended up at Emerson College, where they allowed her to design her own major in the theater department.
I love that story not just because it's about someone who became super successful taking an untraditional path. I love it mostly because of the understanding and compassion that Brown's mother demonstrated. She helped her daughter find a path that worked for her.
One of the recurring themes in Where You Go is about how students who follow the seemingly ideal path of excel in high school, go to elite college are afraid to color outside the lines. They meet a successful person and want a step-by-step guide on how to emulate them. This makes perfect sense to me because I think to a large degree, this was my path. It wasn't quite as difficult to get into the top colleges when I was going through the application process, and the industry that has grown around it didn't yet exist to the degree that it does now.
But I went to an elite private high school that sends its alumni to the Ivies and other top public and private institutions. And I remember my college counselor recommending that I go to a smaller private school, where I could shine, which in retrospect was excellent advice. I rejected it, and instead went to a larger private university with a student body of over 10,000 (and the only school that didn't offer me any scholarship money - sorry, Mom and Dad). I chose the school because I loved the campus and I thought I would have lots of opportunities. I even got into the honors program.
But maybe that was the mistake, because what I realize now, with the benefit of hindsight, is that although I was smart, I wasn't as smart as many of the other students. So I faded back instead of flourishing, and while I did fine, graduated with a relatively high GPA, and went on to an excellent law school, I do think about what might have happened if I'd taken my counselor's advice and gone to a smaller, less selective school.
Where You Go is full of stories about such students, who didn't get into the top schools and so ended up at smaller, less exclusive schools where they found themselves to be standouts. I am now open to the possibility that my children might be better served by following the example of these students than by following in my footsteps.
I've been a regular reader of Tim Elmore's Growing Leaders blog, which is about helping students succeed and become leaders. A main recurring message is that we have to let them do for themselves, and let them risk failure. I also recently finished reading How Luck Happens: Using the Science of Luck to Transform Work, Love, and Life, which defines luck as the intersection between talent, chance and hard work. And one of the messages of Where You Go is Not Who You'll Be is that hard work trumps the name of the school on your diploma.
I feel like I'm being pounded over the head with the message that the main lesson I should be teaching my children is to work hard. Not get good grades, not check off the boxes for your college application, and definitely not you can't make a mistake or get a B.
Hard work is something they can control. If they give it their all and they fail, at least they'll know they did everything they could. And hard work will serve them well throughout their lives, regardless of where they go to school or what they end up doing for a living.
This is something that I think parents know instinctively to be true, but it's something that we find difficult to teach. But it may be the most important lesson we can pass on.
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That said, I realize there will likely be compromises that need to be made, the biggest one being that they may not be able to attend their first-choice school. But that's a bridge we'll cross when we come to it. My kids are in seventh and fifth grade right now, so we're not even close to drawing up lists of schools to consider.
If you want a more detailed discussion of Debt-Free U, check out my other site, LAUSD Magnet Schools. Here, I'll share a few things that are logical first steps in preparing to pay for college.
Learn how the system works. If you went to college, you might remember the FAFSA, or Free Application for Federal Student Aid. It's the one financial aid application you pretty much have to fill out in order to get any kind of financial aid for college and grad school.
A key concept related to the FAFSA is EFC, or Expected Family Contribution. Based on the information you provide on the FAFSA, you'll get an EFC, which is the amount the government says you should be able to pay that year for your child's education. Low-income families can have a low EFC, which helps them get more financial aid. But it seems like middle-class families and even many lower-income families are assigned EFCs that are unrealistic. I just read about one single mother with a $65,000 annual salary who has an EFC of $40,000! I am expecting our EFC to be painfully high and that we will therefore be ineligible for any need-based financial aid.
One other note: "Financial aid" includes loans. As in, when you get the financial aid package from a school, explaining the aid they are giving, it frequently includes loans as a form of "aid." For example, if the total cost is $30,000 and your EFC is $10,000, they might give you $10,000 in need-based scholarship aid, and $10,000 in loans. I know student loan debt is often touted as "good" debt, much like a mortgage, but Debt-Free U makes some compelling arguments about why that's not the case. This Forbes article explains why parents especially shouldn't take out loans to help their kids.
Merit scholarships do exist. They might be difficult to come by, but they are out there. However, you have to earn them. I've been learning about what that takes, and not surprisingly, a lot of it comes down to good grades and high test scores. It also helps to do volunteer work and be passionate about something. Of course, it's a difficult balance between encouraging your kids and stressing them out too much. I try to remember to emphasize that my kids should do their best, and that effort matters more than results (and that when you put in the effort, the results usually come).
Save, save, save! I wish California had a pre-paid tuition option for state schools, because I'd be all over that. It's a big enough state that I wouldn't feel bad about telling them they have to stay for undergraduate work, at least - they can still get plenty far away enough from home. Unfortunately, all we have is a 529 plan. Which, of course, we are contributing to. But balancing college savings and retirement savings is tricky, to say the least.
There are a lot of schools out there. Until I started talking with friends who have high schoolers and recent grads, I'd never heard of a couple of schools that are less than 40 miles away from my house. One of my friends hired a private college counselor, who helped her son find some smaller schools that they wouldn't have known about or considered (in addition to helping him write his essays and get his applications in).
High school counselors don't know a lot about paying for college. I'm sure there are a lot of great high school counselors out there, but I'm also discovering that many focus solely on helping your child get into a school, and completely ignore the financial aspect of the process.
There are some really nice financial breaks available to California residents at UC schools. I don't know if we'll qualify for any of them, but I want to spread the word about them because if you're eligible, they can be a huge help!
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There are many wonderful things about being a mother, and I can hardly believe I've been a mother for nearly a decade. I don't feel ten years older than when I first gave birth. And yet, the proof is standing next me, the top of his head reaching my shoulder, his dresser covered in academic and athletic awards, and Nike Elite socks strewn across the floor.
He and his brother are amazing little men, and I feel so blessed when I think of how happy and healthy they are.
And yet, there have been many dark and difficult times, and that's when I've received the greatest gift of motherhood: Understanding of my own mother.
It was only in becoming a mother than I learned to let go of the childhood wounds I'd carried around for years. It took becoming a mother to understand that the years of misunderstandings with my own mother didn't mean she didn't love me.
And of course, I finally understood how aggravated and frustrated I made her when I pretended not to hear her call me to dinner so I could finish the chapter I was reading, when I failed to clean my room, and when I mumbled "Fine" when she asked how my day was.
So Mom, today on Mother's Day, I want to apologize for all the aggravation I put you through. I know that you love me enough to think it was worth it, and I love you even more for that. Happy Mother's Day!
And Happy Mother's Day to you if you're a mother, whether your babies are here on earth or in heaven.
In the last few months, several parents have said to me something along the lines of: "I probably should have held him back."
It's made me grateful that my children's birthdays fall in months that didn't give me much choice about when they would start kindergarten. I've watched many friends struggle with the decision of whether to start their child in kindergarten in the fall or wait a year, and as I said, I have friends who've regretted - or at least doubted - their choice to start their child early.
Some of the reasons for starting kindergarten on the earlier side include:
The child is emotionally ready. Some kids have trouble sitting still, getting along with other kids, cry a lot, etc. Other kids fully participate in their preschool class, and handle interactions with other kids appropriately. If you've got the former, it's easier to say your child isn't quite ready for kindergarten. But if you've got the latter, you might wonder if keeping her in preschool for another year is actually hindering her development.
The child is intellectually ready. I know some kids who could not only write their names and the entire alphabet, but they could read Level 1 or 2 books and do simple addition and subtraction when they started kindergarten. Some kids get bored in preschool, too. Again, if you have an academically advanced child, you might wonder if holding him back will just make the next year more difficult than it needs to be.
The child is physically ready. In almost every class, there seems to be one kid who's noticeably taller than everybody else. And a lot of times, that kid is one of the younger ones in the class. It can be difficult to look like you're older than everybody else, especially when you actually aren't. So parents with a tall kid might be more inclined to start their child in kindergarten than parents with a short kid.
The financial cost of another year of preschool is a burden. Preschool can be expensive {although it's cheap compared to summer camp!}. So the thought of paying for an extra year of preschool when you don't have to can be a huge incentive to send your child to kindergarten instead of holding her back for another year. That's money that can be applied toward college savings or other good uses.
On the other hand, there are also reasons to hold your child back:
Your child may be able to keep pace with her peers now, but may fall behind in a few years. As school work becomes more challenging, your child may have increasing difficulty with the material. One of my friends said her son was struggling with fourth grade math, and was wondering if he would have had an easier time in school if she'd held him back a year.
Your child will have to face social pressures earlier. Adolescence is never an easy time, and that may be when your child's younger age compared to her classmates starts to show. So it's important to project ahead and ask yourself if you want your child to be exposed to middle school or high school a year earlier than she needs to be. In fact, one of my friends who skipped a grade said that she felt fine about it until middle school, which is when she really started to feel the age difference.
It can be difficult to hold your child back later. Some schools will not allow you to hold your child back once she's in school, especially if she's keeping up academically. You may wish to check the policy of your local school district before making a decision.
Your child may have an advantage when it comes to athletics if he's on the older end of the scale. While it's statistically unlikely your child will become a superstar athlete, he may have a better chance of athletic success in high school if he's older.
This is one of those really difficult parenting decisions where you won't know if you made the right choice for a few years, if ever. Ever since college, I've wished that my parents had held me back so that I was one of the oldest kids instead of one of the youngest - I think I would have been more self-confident, and consequently thrived more. But one of my good friends growing up had skipped a grade and was younger than me, and seemed far better adjusted in our late adolescence/early adulthood than I was. {I'd say there's zero to no disparity now, so maybe that's the real answer: eventually it just doesn't matter.}
As a parent, one of my biggest jobs is to give my children the best opportunities to experience early success, to help pave the way for greater success as they get older.
One thing that hasn't changed much in the decades since I was a kid is that athletic kids seem to have it a little easier than other kids. Excelling at sports (or any specialty) breeds confidence in other areas, and athletic ability tends to garner admiration from adults and kids alike.
While not all kids are meant to be athletes, from what I've seen, true natural athletes for whom athletic feats come easily are actually really rare. Sure, some kids have incredible hand-eye coordination. Others have size or speed on their side. But the young athlete who is the whole package - raw ability, skill, technique, toughness, and awareness - is truly one in a million.
That's good new for the rest of us! It means that if we help our kids be the best athletes they can be, most likely they can be more than good enough to feel comfortable out on the field and have that sense of self-assurance that the athletic kids at school {of whom I was not one} always seem to feel.
Here are some tips on parenting an athlete, which have translated for us into general teachings about life that have been incredibly good lessons for my children:
Emphasize effort, not the outcome - This is generally applicable parenting advice that I first read when my kids were little, and it's backed by research concluding that kids who are praised for their effort rather than their successes end up more successful, largely because they're more persistent. It works especially well in sports, where success can be achieved at lower levels without much effort, but success at higher levels requires great effort. For example, a kid who can throw a baseball really hard and somewhat accurately at age five may be lauded for getting the outs, but because his form is really bad, he can't throw very far or accurately when he's playing on a bigger field at age eight. But encourage the same kid to work on his throwing motion instead of just congratulating him on recording the out, and by age eight, he'll be throwing people out from the outfield.
Emphasize the importance of practice, and back your words up with action - I love that with sports, you get tangible results with lots of practice. Most recreational teams practice just once or twice a week, so encourage your child to practice outside of the team dynamic, and help them do so. Take her to the park, hit balls to her, or kick the ball back and forth. For particular skills, you may need to hire a coach, or if you can't afford one, ask if the team's coach can show you and your child one or two drills or skills to focus on.
Emphasize mental skills as much as physical skills - Help your child learn the rules of the sport, and emphasize the need to pay attention during games. It's hard to make a play if you don't see the ball come your way until the last second, or if your teammate can't pass you the ball because you're out of position. But the kid who wants to be there, who's always focused and participating and trying his or her best, will always win the coach's heart, even if he or she doesn't have the best skills.
Teach sportsmanship - This goes with the last tip, but I've put it separately because attitude is a huge part of sports. Everyone makes mistakes (including umpires and referees), someone has to make the last out, and so on. Having a great attitude will endear your child not just to her coach, but to her teammates. {And that in itself is a great life lesson!}
Don't compare - There will always be other kids who are bigger, faster, or stronger. We all have limitations. So point out the absurdity and uselessness of comparisons, and encourage your child to do her best, which is all she can control.
Learn the sport - If you don't know the rules, learn them so you can help your child learn them. Watch games on TV, play videogames, or watch YouTube videos on technique. While these activities can't substitute for actual practice, they can help your child fine tune his skills, positioning, and anticipation. It's also a nice opportunity to bond with your child.
Above all, help your child translate athletic success into lifelong success. When my son recently complained about his academic workload, particularly extra work I was giving him to practice for a specific test, I suggested he think of homework and studying as practice. Working hard outside of school will help him succeed in the classroom in the same way that practicing sports helps him succeed during games. It made sense to him, and he hasn't complained since!
Sometimes the boys are particularly challenging and there are many times when, after interacting with them, I start to question myself and to feel like an inadequate mom. I know I'm not the only one out there, so here are a few tips for recapturing some equanimity:
Have a sense of self-worth that's independent of your identity as a mother - I think this is the most important tip of all, because the more your sense of self-worth is dependent on your sense of accomplishment as a mother, the harder you will take it when things aren't going well with your child. That's a lot of pressure to put on yourself and on your child. So have something else in your life that makes you feel good about yourself, whether it's a career, volunteering, or something else.
Do something you enjoy and that you're good at - I'm thinking of things like cooking, gardening, exercise, scrapbooking, etc. Like the first tip, this one restores your sense of well-being without requiring anything from your child. It will also help give you some distance from the problem event.
Think about your child's positive traits - Once you have some distance, it's easier to remind yourself about all the things you love about your child, which makes it easier to forgive their transgressions and to think objectively about how to proceed.
Talk to someone you trust for another perspective - Your partner, a good friend, your child's teacher, or even your child's pediatrician can provide some much-needed reassurance, a more objective perspective, and maybe suggest some new tactics to try with your child.
Think long term - Remember that this too shall pass. In 10 to 15 years, your child will be an adult - hopefully one who is happy, able to take care of him or herself, and makes good decisions. And all of the angst you feel now will be but a distant memory.
"You get confidence from overcoming adversity, not from being told how great you are all the time." - Dan Kindlon, Ph.D., author of Tough Times, Strong Children, as quoted in the November 2010 Parents Magazine
I read the above quote and I wanted to jump up and shout Yes!, because it's so true. We have always worked hard to emphasize to both our boys that the result is not as important as the effort they put forth.
I know parents who tell their children that they are the most or the best (fill in the blank), and heap praise and superlatives on them that simply aren't warranted. I know they trying to give their children "positive feedback," which is what society tells us to do. But there's going to come a day when those children realize that their parents are just giving them empty words, and if that's all they've gotten over the years, then they'll lack the self-confidence, or what self-esteem expert Nathaniel Branden calls self-efficacy. Self-efficacy is one of the two components of healthy self-esteem, and means "confidence in the ability to cope with life's challenges," which "leads to a sense of control over one's life." (The other component is self-respect.)
It's not always easy to watch your children struggle - in fact, it's pretty darn hard to do. And it's usually easier to just do things for them. But work with your children to overcome the obstacles they encounter, and they'll thank you for it later on.
Today is the last day of our first week of kindergarten, and I am desperate to get into a routine. Because once I have a routine for school, then I can create a routine for myself. This first week has really been about adjusting to kindergarten and definitely not about me adjusting to not working.
I am trying to get the timing down for our morning routine - when Alex should eat breakfast so that he's not hungry well before morning snack time at school, how long it takes me to pack his snack and lunch, how long it takes to put on sunscreen, how long it takes us to walk to school, etc.
The biggest adjustment I have had to make is in packing snack and lunch. I packed his lunch every day for preschool (see my previous bento posts here), but after the first day, when he came home with half his lunch still in his lunch box, I remembered something I'd read over at Lunch in a Box last year: kindergartners have a lot less time to eat than preschoolers.
Back in preschool, lunch was a leisurely affair. Since most of the older kids don't need naps, lunch time often lasted an hour. The kids all ate at their own pace, and it was a fun, relaxing time - especially during the summer, when the class ate outside. They could even be noisy, since they didn't have to worry about waking the younger kids who were sleeping.
Now, though, the kinder kids seem to get forty-five minutes to eat and use the bathroom. (I'm not clear on whether there's any play time during this period.) Alex came home on Wednesday with his container of fruit untouched, so I decided to try something different yesterday: I packed his fruit in his snack instead. And he ate it.
I'm packing smaller lunches now, and trying to think of foods that he can eat quickly while avoiding foods that take more time, like anything that requires assembly (such as homemade "Lunchable"-style kits). I need to pick up a small thermos that can keep foods warm, so I can pack some chicken nuggets, pizza and pasta. He's been pretty hungry in the afternoon when he gets home from school, so I think I will increase the size of his morning snack next week (he's always been able to finish the snack).
Homework starts next week, and that will probably require another adjustment. I am hoping to tackle homework together right after his snack so that it's done by dinner time. Is it too much to hope that by the end of next week, I'll be feeling settled in? :)
I mentioned yesterday that we had an important medical appointment, but what I didn't mention is that the evening prior, we got a call from the nurse, essentially saying (reading between the lines) that the specialist didn't think he needed to be involved and our regular pediatrician ought to be able to handle the follow up. It was certainly surprising and frustrating, although after the initial shock and irritation, I realized that what really mattered yesterday were the actual test results and not the specialist's input – particularly if the results were positive.
But I found myself unwilling - even unable - to let the specialist write us off completely. I asked if we could be rescheduled for next week – in the nicest, most reasonable way I could, because I do strongly believe that being nice will always get you more than being nasty, even when you have a right to be angry. The end result was that we were told we could make an appointment with the nurse practitioner, and maybe the specialist would also see us.
It turns out my instincts were right on. Most of the test results were positive, but there was one negative result that needs to be monitored. By the specialist.
And I realized that, ever since that first night in the ER, when I understood that my job was to be my child's advocate, that I have had to advocate almost every step of the way. Each time I think my job is pretty much done, something comes up that requires me to take that role again.
What I didn't realize at first was that being an advocate is exhausting. In retrospect, it should have been obvious. My good friend B. has spent countless hours advocating for her child, who's been diagnosed as high-functioning autistic. I cheered her on from the sidelines as she cajoled, negotiated, and demanded the plan that was in his best interests, and refused to settle for anything less. And I understood at the time that it was mentally and emotionally exhausting for her to do that.
What I've now come to realize is that being an advocate is also a privilege. I love my children so much, and it really is an honor to be able to stand up for them and make sure that they are getting the absolute best care possible. I wouldn't trade my role for anything!
Again, thank you for all of the kind words and prayers. They've really meant a lot.
I don't know if I'll ever want to really write about the hospital experience – I don't think I've fully processed it yet, hence I'm still prone to bursting into tears when someone asks about it.
But, there are a few tips I do want to share:
Don't be afraid to ask questions. Everyone at the hospital was quite nice. Even the attending physician, who at first came off as rather brusque, turned out to be forthcoming and answered every single one of my questions with relative patience. The doctors in general were sometimes hard to track down, even for the nurses, but I never felt that they were negligent in their care.
Distraction is the name of the game. The hospital had a DVD player and TV for each patient, so that helped to provide constant distraction. Ditto for lots of small toys (new ones, especially) and books.
Sleep when your child sleeps. You won't sleep well, but a little sleep is better than none. And you'll need your rest, because the whole hospitalization thing is rather exhausting in and of itself.
Maintain perspective. Even in my darkest moments, I knew we were the lucky ones. My child's life was never in danger, while we saw other children who had chronic and/or life-threatening ailments. Some were clearly regular guests at the hospital, and arrived with their own blankets and pillows.
The nurses are your best friends. We were blessed with awesome nurses who were caring, attentive and competent, all at the same time. They tended to me, too, making sure that I was getting all of the information that I wanted as quickly as possible.
Be prepared for things to be hard when you get home. I was so focused on getting out of the hospital that I didn't stop to think that things would still be rough when we got home. But with medicine needing to be given every four hours, and my own emotions still all over the place, the first few days home were really tough. (Not to worry, things are definitely better now.)
**Update** I forgot to include this last tip:
Check on the availability of any prescriptions you receive upon discharge before leaving. We left with a prescription for a medication that needed to be given every four hours, but it turned out the medication isn't generally stocked because it's not prescribed very often. Every pharmacy near our house could get it the next day, but that wasn't going to help me administer the medication that night. The only place I could get the medication was at the pharmacy back at the hospital (a 45 minute drive each way in rush hour traffic), and that pharmacy turned out not to be contracted with our insurance company so I had to pay a pretty hefty amount out of pocket. If only I'd known that I wouldn't be able to get the prescription filled near home, I could have saved myself an extra hour and a half in the car. At least the pharmacist was thoughtful enough to recommend only getting a partial fill, and I was able to get the rest of the prescription at a local pharmacy that was covered by our insurance the next day.
I just spent the last 18 hours in the emergency room and hospital with one of the boys, who's being monitored following some substantial blood loss due to another bloody nose. As I sat in the ER digesting the news that he'd have to be admitted, I realized that I had one purpose in life: to be my child's best advocate.
Partly, my sense of purpose was due to being confident that I would be good at it. My training as a lawyer and advocate make me particularly well suited for this situation, even if I don't have a deep understanding of the medical issues. Doctors are pretty good at breaking things down into layman's terms, so I had a pretty good understanding of what the problem was. And being an attorney means I'm good at asking questions, finding answers, and being persistent and aggressive (in a nice way) when warranted.
I realize that this has happened before, just not so starkly. Since one of the boys was diagnosed with a peanut and tree nut allergy, I have reacted fiercely when I've perceived any kind of danger lurking in a new food. I've pestered the pediatrician with all kinds of questions, and even made him find out if there are any desensitizing clinical trials going on locally. (Unfortunately, there are none.) And a couple of years ago, when the lead paint recalls were overwhelming, I convinced the pediatrician to let me get my older son's blood tested for lead.
Maybe it's because these fiercely protective feelings are rooted in evolution, when the offspring who got their parents to care about them survived best, but I've never felt so strongly that I was put on this earth to accomplish a specific task.
Right now, I'm feeling particularly grateful that we don't appear to be dealing with anything especially serious, while other patients at the hospital are handling major health crises. And I'm very grateful for the wonderful medical care we've gotten - all of the doctors and nurses have been terrific, and the standard of care has been incredibly high. I'm sure we'll be paying for it with a massive bill in the end, but it will be worth every penny.
Needless to say, posting will be light here for a while.
