In early January, Tracy Grant wrote in The Washington Post  –  “So I offer up an alternate resolution for the rest of the 2013: Be a more neglectful parent. I’m not actually advocating neglect — just a little less hovering, a little less worrying, a little less intervening. If we give it a try, we might just wind up with less gray hair and better relationships with our kids by year’s end.”

 I have taken these words to heart.  I generally have no idea what’s going on school work-wise with my 7th grader. Actually, I’ve had this attitude since she was in 2nd grade. 

We are fortunate that our child is self motivated. We don’t don’t have to sit on her to make her do her school work. She does it on her own. I honestly don’t ask about it unless she asks a question. Which is good, since there’s a 50/50 chance that I would be able to answer anyhow.

This lax attitude serves us well as home but at our recent PTA meeting, I found myself totally lost during a discussion about the current math curriculum and the new one being implemented.  These other parents know all about the changes. I was trying to remember what math class my daughter was in. Have I taken this neglectful parenting too far? 

Sure, I want my daughter to go to the college of her choice and sure, I want her to be challenged but not overwhelmed but I’m not exactly sure I can influence all this. If the school recommends her for a math class, who am I to argue? If it were up to me, I would have kept her in 4th grade math, the last grade level of math that I felt comfortable helping her with.

I don’t think being neglectful, in this sense, excludes me from being a good advocate for my daughter and her educational needs. I just look at things differently, I’m a bit more focused on a balance between academics and making sure she knows, A’s B’s or E’s (no F’s – that hurts their self-esteem), she’s still a great kid. That may be neglectful, but I’m ok with that. 

Karen Carpenter sang it “Rainy days and Mondays always get me down.” And if they occur together like today, a rainy dreary Monday, down doesn’t even begin to describe the mood.

First, you are lying in your bed when the alarm goes off.  That’s bad enough and then you hear the rain. Even the dog, always anxious to get up and out, doesn’t move. Even he knows the day is bad. You flip on the TV and by 6:15 am, the traffic reporter is showing a map already covered with accidents. Maybe in Washington State people can drive in the rain, but not here in Washington, DC. People here either drive way too fast for the conditions or way too slow.  Either one is bad.

As usual, I was  taking the Metro to work this morning. One accident on the way to the station, causing a 10 minute delay. Mild in comparison to the delays I hear on the radio. I get to the station and the platform is totally full. Not normal since I get on at the end of the line and there’s usually not that kind of crowd. I begin to anticipate a bad commute. But when the train comes all seems fine.

Then, about halfway thru the trip, the doors start having an issue closing. First, the train operator is just trying shut and close them with the announcement repeating “Please stand clear of the door.” We move along. Then at the next stop he can’t get the door indicator to turn off and comes on the loud speaker system and asks that if anyone sees an open door, please try and help shut it.  Apparently someone does and we move along. Next stop, the operator yells thru the speakers that we can’t move with the doors open. “Stop playing with the doors!”

I glance around my car, although we don’t have a door problem, to try and gauge who exactly would be playing with the doors. In my car, the average age is at least 45 and no one looks in the slightest bit interested in playing with subway doors. Given the time, it is unlikely that we would have the gangs of school age kids you see in the afternoon on the train. They might be up for playing with the doors but they usually aren’t on in the morning at this time. Despite the plea, no luck so  the next announcement says the operator will be calling his supervisor. Not sure if this a threat to the door playing passengers or what, but next thing you know, we are being offloaded, the most dreaded activity when riding the Metro.  The man next to me yells  “Fuck Mondays.”

As we offload in the steady rain, many people move forward toward the station to get cover, but a fair number of us, stand exactly where we came out, figuring we will just stay put and get on the next train.  So much for that theory, because the next train only has 6 cars, not 8 like our previous one, so unless we run forward, we won’t get on this train. My seatmate, now standing next to me, blurts out again, this time  “Fuck Mondays and Fuck this rain.” Not as eloquent as Karen, but the same sentiment indeed.

Hard to believe that once again tragedy has stuck the US in the form of a violent bombing in Boston at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. I felt numb when I heard the news – so hard to understand why anyone would do this. Feel even more numb when I came home and asked my daughter to switch the TV to the news since something had happened in Boston. She casually said “oh yeah, that bombing.”  What struck me was that she sees this as something normal. Just another event. Just another day with violence. Wow. This is not the world I ever envisioned for her. Not a world I envisioned for myself. I’m just thankful that I still react, still a shock to me. Just wish it was for my daughter.

This week many people are in the DC area on spring break. Unfortunately, the weather is more winter than spring like. You can tell the tourists – they are the ones in shorts with the “I heart DC” sweatshirts on.  Isn’t weather.com or the like available all over? I mean, would you really go on vacation and not check the weather? I know it is supposed to be springtime but it’s not like DC is Florida – cool weather can be expected. These people are ill-prepared. Even without the snow we got this week.

The neon sweatshirts are covering the matching t-shirts you see so many families wearing these days while on a trip. Thank God this was not popular when I was a kid. Our parents were expected to keep track of us and not depend on matching shirts to ID us in a crowd.  It is one thing for a family the size of the Duggars, 19 or so kids, to depend on matching clothes. After all, that is a lot of young ones to watch but if you are a family of 4, it seems ridiculous.  That’s a one to one ratio of child to adult. If you are that neglectful of a parent that you can’t keep track of one child, you shouldn’t go on vacation.

Working downtown, I will get stopped and asked questions and for directions. Two of my favorites are:

1. A family stops and asks me if that McDonald’s (pointing to the one down the street) is like the McDonald’s they have at home. I want to say “Is your McDonald’s full of homeless people and does it have slow service? If so, then yes.”  The WHOLE point of McDonald’s and other chains is that you get the same stuff in each place. Duh.

2. One family asked me where the Wax Museum was. I gave detailed directions – cross streets and landmarks. Then someone in the group asked me “Are you sure?”  If I looked like that much of a dumb ass that even after all those details you doubt me, why bother asking? Go bother someone else.

Enjoy your visit. We need your money and you provide entertainment. If you need directions, ask someone who isn’t wearing a matching outfit with anyone else in the area. We are the ones that live here.