Ruminations and Retirement

Just happen to be ruminating about my retirement plans. I've been in retirement mode for some 30 years now, plowing money into a portfolio, buying and selling property for a profit, working at a state-level job with those wonderful state pension plans, etc. Feeling sorry for myself these days because who knew that when I was approaching retirement, the economy would go belly up and also that I would inherit four kids to support as well as my adult daughter (though I must also say that she works full time as a hairdresser and is doing much better than even my predictions) who is struggling to build up a clientele, I started to think about my parents and grandparents and asked myself how they made it through the hard times. My parents were depression era kids and so growing up I heard "turn off the lights," "eat everything on your plate, kids in China are starving," and "no you can't do this or that, we only have enough money to go to the drive-in theater with homemade popcorn." I can't even remember how many times I heard my mother tell me the story of her father, my grandfather, a likable fellow named Angus, who quit school in the third grade and by the age of 10 was working in a lumber camp in the north woods of Michigan. Seems that during the Great Depression, he supported my mother and grandmother by going to a warehouse in Flint, Michigan, and buying what he called "little stuff," to trade or sell. The "stuff" that he purchased were things like chore boys for the kitchen, little sewing kits, small household items, etc. Then he went to the dump and picked through the glass bottles. He brought the bottles home, scalded them in a galvanized wash tub, and then pasted labels on them. One set of bottles he filled with homemade vanilla, which my grandmother made in a laundry tub and the other set was filled with white liniment for whatever ailed one. My grandmother made the white liniment as well. I'm sure it cured most ailments because it smelled powerful. My grandfather would load up the car and drive throughout the Michigan countryside trading for meat and vegetables or selling what he could for cash. He stayed out for about a week at a time, plowing through farm country. He was always a talker so I am sure that he loved every bit of the challenge.  My mother remembered that when he came home on Friday nights, there were crates of chickens tied to the running boards of the car, while the trunk and backseat were loaded to the rooftop with potatoes, onions, apples, and other assorted vegetables as well as good ole fresh farm eggs. They didn't have much of anything during the Depression, but they ate well and even shared their bounty with neighbors. It is with these stories in my memory bank that I ask myself, "do I have what it takes to make it through the tough times?"

First Post - How it all began

Ya know, I struggled financially as a young person like many of you. When my first child was really really young, my biggest thrill in the world was the day that I bought a pair of cheap tangerine colored (I can't believe I would pick anything like that, but oh well) 63" curtains for my apartment with a brass colored rod. I thought they looked beautiful with my beige, second-hand, plastic sofa that graced my first apartment. I was only 19 when my first child was born so money was practically non-existent. Struggle, struggle, and four years went by. I now had my first home (bought without any help from parents at the age of 21) and a second child. Divorce from husband #1 loomed ahead. After my divorce, I married my former junior high and high school boyfriend. Wow! I thought, now I can get some traction and move forward in life. Bought my second home at age 26 and had my third and last child. I went to nursing school and worked for four years part time and raised my children. Did all the usual--drove three kids to music lessons, kung fu lessons, dance lessons, etc. Kept head above water, but that was about it. Three kids and no money. Somehow I made it until the kids were middle teens and then, you guessed it, my high school boy friend, now husband, decided that he needed a sports car and a teenage girlfriend. Fast forward twenty years. Kids are grown and doing well. The third, a girl went off the rail after the divorce and could not pull herself together for a number of years. While all three kids had their ups and downs, they are all working and struggling like the rest of us to get ahead. There aren't enough blogs to cover all of the experiences we have been through, but I intend to insert tidbits of the ups and downs in upcoming blogs as I blog about what it is like to raise grandchildren and try to prepare for retirement at the same time. One caveat: I am currently a university professor who also happens to be a parent and grandparent. I have taken off the somber robes of the academy and am just wearing my jeans and pullover to write this blog. I hope that it is humorous, readable, and engaging. If anyone anywhere learns anything from it, it's unintentional on my part. I just want to share with you what it is like to raise grandchildren as it can at times and at the same time be both a blessing and a curse. Most of all, it is great fun and a real privilege to play such an important role in the life of a child. See you tomorrow or whenever.

Sometimes life surprises you

I'm back. I thought I should take the time to introduce my family. Jamee is my eldest. She teaches English at a very large high school in Florida. As a former eighth grade teacher myself, Jamee and I share many interests and have lots of to laugh about and moan and groan about. Jamee is trying to blast her two children, Cait and Patrick out of her house (Cat is 22 and Patrick is 19). For some reason, they prefer to live at home where the rent is free. They don't seem to mind the screaming from their mom about how messy they are. I think that they believe that a little screaming is better than paying rent, growing up, and/or, struggling to pay bills. I don't get it, because I and my sixties' something friends always loved the struggle to prove to our parents that we could do it. Oh well, like Scarlet O'Hara always said "tomorrow is another day." Andy is the middle child. He was the most difficult infant on the face of the planet. Screamed day and night from the age of two or three days old until he was just over a year. He could not keep formula down, spit up constantly, had what can only be described as terminal diarrhea, and would not allow anyone to hold him or comfort him. Many trips to many doctors and never did get a firm diagnoses. While Andy has had numerous medical problems, he managed to get married to a great gal and is now the father of a seven year old adorable daughter who recently as a first grader (last year) finished the entire Harry Potter series and last week finished reading the last Percy Jackson book in that series. He works for one of our state governments and while he will never be rich in terms of money, he has job security and benefits, which today counts for a lot. My third child, a girl, is a hairdresser. You might recall that she had a difficult time adjusting to life after my divorce from her father. She is the one with four children. She, Susan, lives with me and is a hairdresser. She loves glam and would prefer to remain sixteen. She is bubbly and loads of fun to be around when she's not making me mad, which she does when she wants me to raise her kids so that she can be sixteen again. Cat fights at my house are the norm. One of her daughters, my granddaughter, Taylor, is my revenge. Susan finds it hard to deal with both of us. She is squeezed in the middle. My granddaughter and I often join up in a conspiracy to make her life miserable by reminding her of what she needs to do. Susan really does have great organizational skills and will, I think, manage her own salon one day. I am always surprised when one of my kids does or says something that I know they got from me. It seems to validate my existence as a mother. I guess they learned more from me than I realize. In my professional life as a university professor, I enjoy telephone calls from students at other universities who are reading one of my books and would like additional information about this or that. I also enjoy the many encounters I have with colleagues at national and international conferences and at annual meetings of organizations of which I am either president or past president. I also like the professional engagement that I enjoy with colleagues all over the world who write for my book series. I am posting this tidbit about my professional life not to impress anyone, but to remind all parents out in cyberland that while many of us enjoy great notoriety in our professional lives, our children for the most part whether they are four or forty are greatly underwhelmed by our accomplishments. To them, we are simply mom or dad. Sad but true, on most days I just take off my mortarboard and put on my apron so that I can fix dinner to serve to the four hungry grandchildren who live with me and their mother and share this extraordinary journey through life.