85 Many of us aren't Prepared for a Disaster if it hits our area - Food, Important Papers, First-Aid Supplies

   Often times it takes a disaster to force us to get busy and put a list together of supplies needed for a fire, earthquake, hurricane, or flood and buy them.  Have you thought about it? What would you take?  What’s important to you? Take a day and discuss it with your family, then research the necessary items. I've included quite a bit here, but if your kids are old enough, include them in this conversation and write the ideas down. Then read this blog and do further research.

When we were first evacuated in the late ’80s due to a fire, our son who was about three, didn’t bring his favorite toys, he brought the container of toothpicks. And my husband, who was the only one home when told to evacuate took his two guitars even though I had told him a day ahead of time to get all our photo albums. He said, “I don’t remember you telling me that?  Funny, huh? Well, I didn’t think so at first. But this is what happens to our brain when we are under stress, we can’t think.  That’s why a list needs to be made and taped inside a kitchen cabinet, and everyone in the house needs to know where it is. Where is the meeting place going to be? Obviously, if the fire or flood or even an earthquake happens, get your butt out pronto!

  Your Most Important Papers

     Whether you live in a hurricane state, high fire area, flood state, or an earthquake state, you should have your important papers nearby. If a flood or fire destroys your home, you could spend months trying to figure out where t to find the essential documents you need. And when we are stressed, we tend to forget things. Get all papers important copied and placed in a safe fireproof or waterproof container. 

Here are a few links that could be helpful, 

https://brimstonefireprotection.com/collections/all

https://www.amazon.com/s/?ie=UTF8&keywords=fireproof+and+waterproof+bag&tag=googhydr-20&index=aps&hvadid=220255779083&hvpos=1t3&hvnetw=g&

Some suggestions:

List of personal contacts

Passports

Deed to the house

Proof of insurance (health, fire, flood, house, earthquake, etc.) 
Medical records or at least medical I.D. numbers

Social security cards.

   Since we are in a digital age, take a picture of everything above, and have another copy of everything in a portable case.   You can use Dropbox or the Cloud in which these photos can be saved or use a memory stick that you carry around or have in the car. Make sure everything is up to date, including your insurance. If your house has gone up in value, maybe you should raise your insurance coverage. Find out what hazards your area faces, and make sure you’re protected against them. Just because you have fire insurance doesn’t mean it covers for floods.

Basic Items for Survival 

FOOD: You need at least a three-day supply of non-perishables for each person. I write the date I bought the item in permanent marker on the top. (I use all items within two years and that includes the water.  And then I replenish everything.) Don’t forget the can opener. Pack protein bars, jerky, dried fruit, trail mix, cereal bars, some candy as long as it won’t melt. Buy a large plastic storage container to keep it away from the pests.

Water: Have on hand at least a gallon of water per person. This is for drinking and washing. Don’t forget to add additional water if you have pets.

https://www.amazon.com/Water-Storage-System-Shelf-Gallon/dp

Battery- operated radio:  Target, Wallmart, Red Cross, etc.; should have these available. Receiving info on the cell may not work if satellites not working or in our case, in 2019, the electric company turned off the electricity due to a fire which was miles away, so cells didn't work, so I'm paying extra for a landline. Give yourself options.

Flashlights/ batteries :    (If you have experienced a natural disaster, you will have no idea if you have a gas leak. Be safe.) The best thing is to have a few flashlights upstairs and downstairs and in the garage. Store extra batteries in the freezer, they’ll last a long time.  L.E.D. flashlights are the best as they are very bright.

First-Aid Supplies:

    Two pairs of sterile gloves                                                                          

    Adhesive bandages and sterile dressings

    Soap or another cleanser

    Antibiotic towelettes and ointment

    Burn ointment

    Eyewash

    Thermometer

    Scissors

    Tweezers

    Petroleum jelly

    Aspirin or non-aspirin pain reliever

    Stomach analgesics such as Tums, Pepto-Bismol

    Laxative

Sanitation and Hygiene Supplies:

   Tons of paper towels

    Moist towelettes

    Toilet paper

    Garbage bags

    Plastic ties

    Shampoo

    Toothpaste and toothbrush

Additional Items:

   Masks for each person if in an earthquake area

   Plastic sheeting and duct tape just in case you need to seal your makeshift shelter from airborne  

   particles that could be unhealthy.

   A whistle to signal for help

   Toys or other comfort items for kids

   Cash

   Puzzles/games

   Extra cell phone chargers

   Extra clothing

   Sleeping bags/blankets

   Fire extinguisher

   Glasses/contact lenses

  You are going to have to update your kit every so often, check expiration dates. Replace food and water.  I write dates on everything that is food and water.  I change it out every spring. In other words, pick a date that you will remember.  

  Costco online has a lot of First Aid and earthquake items, but I know there are other companies out there. Red Cross medical supply containers tend to be a little expensive.

https://www.ready.gov/build-a-kit

84 How to let a Family Member Go When They're Ready to Die.

Honor.....and let go

   One of the hardest things in life is to honor someone’s wish and give them permission to transition to the other side, in other words,  to die. Because I'm a Reiki Practioner I've had to deal with this issue a few times in regards to my clients, but it's even harder to accept when it's a family member who is telling you 'It's time.'

     I was working on my stepfather again long distance off and on for about a month when I heard a soft voice in my head say, "It's time for me to go." This time I didn’t cry like I had two years earlier with another client who said he was ready to go. "It's for the best," my stepdad said. This time I didn't think of what I wanted or my family.  I respected and honored his wishes. My mother called and told us he had reentered the hospital, so we let Kyle and Nicole, our teens, decide whether to drive back to Arizona with us again as we had just visited my parents two weekends earlier.

     My mom was surprisingly calm, but I guess losing someone was no stranger. She had lost her sister to leukemia when she was pretty young and then she lost her first child when he was two, and her first husband to a heart attack when he was in his early 30’s. Lastly, my brother had passed away with lung cancer in his early 30’s.

    I think it was my little brother, James, who suggested we enter the hospital room as couples, to share some of our special memories with Jim, our stepdad. At first, I was blinded by the diffused light pouring through the window, but slowly my eyes adjusted.  My father’s health had deteriorated so quickly, and yet still he looked completely healthy on the outside. He had an inoperable tumor on his brain. The specialist told him that he had a couple of months, and yet only a month had passed.  We let him rest for a while as our visit had tired him.

    Later that day, we decided to gather around the bed as a family. My little brother, James, suggested that we share what or how our stepdad had helped us. An excellent idea, I thought.  My brothers and I thanked him for taking care of our mom so well and being such a great stepdad.  He couldn’t talk anymore, but a crooked grin appeared on his face, and a few tears rolled onto the pillow.

   Then he did something strange. He kept pointing up to the ceiling. A couple of people looked up but found nothing unusual.  Someone asked what he was doing.  I felt a bit uncomfortable at first, but no one answered, so I broke the silence. “He’s telling us that he’s ready to go home.”  A few looked at me strangely, not so sure of my interpretation. Again, I was receiving information, I guess I was channeling or reading his mind. I really didn’t think about it at the moment. "To heaven." I continued even though I was sure a few of my family members wondered how I was privy to this info. "He told me while I was working on him long distance that it was time. He needs to know that you’re okay to let him go. He wants you to know he’s not afraid to die.” 

    I received a few bewildered looks, but each of us let Jim know that it was okay to pass to the other side. But when it came time for his son, Eric, to say something, he tightened his lips, tears rolled down his cheeks. “I can’t do that.”

    Softly, I said, “Eric, he needs to know that we’ll all be okay even if he passes to the other side.” But Eric shook his head and rushed out of the room, bumping his shoulder on the doorway on the way out.

     My brother James said in his smooth voice, “I’ll talk to him. He needs a little more time.”

     Alan laid his hand on my arm. “Tina, we have to go if we’re going to make it home tonight. I have work; you and the kids have school.” He saw the disquiet on my face. “There’s nothing you can do.” We had already stayed longer than we had planned. It’s hard to let someone go. We don’t want to lose them and are somehow comforted by seeing their physical presence.  I squeezed my dad's hand and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you, dad,"   then turned to Alan and nodded in agreement.

     After about two hours on the freeway, my cell rang.  It was my little brother, James. “Eric went in and talked to his dad for about fifteen minutes, and then he called the rest of us into the room. Jim just passed a few minutes ago.”

    “Good. I was hoping Eric would let him go today.” James and I  talked about where mom was going to stay because neither of us wanted her to be alone right now and then we said our goodbyes.

 HOW TO COMMUNICATE TO A  PERSON WHO HAS PASSED AWAY

    We can’t stand that a loved one won’t be there for us when we need a shoulder to cry on, so it’s scary to let a loved one go.  But once the person passes, you can still talk to them if you are open to it. Take some nice deep breaths to slow your vibrations down and call your loved ones spirit in. It might take a little while at first. Be patient. Sometimes you might hear their voice, or see a hummingbird fly by, (a favorite bird of my mother’s). Be observant. Once you wake up in the morning, try and remember your dreams because many times, someone who has passed will come in during your Dreamtime. Kyle came into Alan's dream Blog #46. Or their favorite song might play on the radio. I have a relationship still with my mom, my stepdad, Kyle, and my brother, Alex. But remember, don't be selfish and take up too much of their time, as they do have another life up in heaven.

83 Have you ever envisioned yourself as an owl to see better in the dark, or a jaguar

                                                       FROM MY JOURNAL                             September 9, 2010   
  

     Before we could head out to our other place in northern Cal., we still had a drug meeting up in Topanga to facilitate. It was our first meeting. I was in hopes that it would start an anti-drug program in Topanga. After we lost Kyle to heroin, we thought that we might be able to help other Topangans who were dealing with family members that are struggling with drugs.  I was still dazed and worried about what to say to the reporters and photographers from the Topanga Messenger, our local newspaper, and to the fifty people who showed up. We shared our painful stories, and many shared their experiences with their loved one's entanglement with various drugs.  It was a weeknight, and I was exhausted from a full day of teaching.  I kept thinking when is this meeting going to be over, so we can drive to our slice of heaven.

     Finally, we were on the road driving the long, mind-numbing seven-hour drive to our new woodsy house. This time, because it was so late, we decided to only drive halfway that evening. Alan had already driven the first two hours. “Can you wipe the dog slop from your side of the window?” My husband grumbled. “I can barely see out the side mirror. I don’t understand why every time I slow down or stop, Topper stands up on your lap to look out as if he was the Captain of this ship. Can’t you hold him down?
   Westies are always curious

    Alan sounded a bit grumpy I was sure because of the meeting. “No, he’s just curious.” I spat on my long sleeve shirt and rubbed the nose snot off the window that our West Highland Terrier had left. Alan pulled over to a gas station and filled up with gas. Then the three of us did our business.

     Once I slid into the car, I shifted all the levers on the seat so I could reach the pedals. Alan’s Ford Escape now seemed like a massive ship to me, especially since I was currently driving a Mini-Cooper. I was tired. Since the school budget was cut, some of my classes have over forty students, and our school had voted that we’d teach an additional course. I’m zapped even more these days, but I guess that’s what depression does.  All I wanted was just to be closer to our destination before we check in to a hotel.  A vision of an eagle came into my mind's eye, so I decided to try something which I had done a couple of times when I was a kid.

       Alan’s eyes were already closed for a nap. “Tina, slow down! You’re driving too fast!” my husband barked.

      “Don’t worry, I have a technique,” I said smoothly.

      “What is it?” 

      “If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you.” A running joke we have between us.

      Alan laughed, “Oh, in other words, it’s your witch stuff.” He sat up straight and looked at me. “Go ahead, tell me.”

     Still, I was apprehensive about sharing.

     “Remember,  I’m now a believer in your Reiki Healing.” He tried to reassure me.

     “Yea, only after you experienced how it could help you,” I teased. “Okay,” I paused, still unsure about sharing. “ I envision myself as a beautiful eagle with a pure white head and neck, a light brown body with the last two inches of my wing feathers also dipped in white, flying over the freeway. I feel like there’s an invisible veil over me, protecting our car from any radar detector. "   I chuckled. "This so weird.”  

     Alan scooted back down in his seat and closed his eyes without making a sound. I was positive his tongue was bleeding from biting it so hard. Feeling the cool breeze under my extended wings, I propelled myself even higher.  I chuckled to myself.

     At first, I tried to focus on a full view of what was on either side of the freeway, but I was afraid that if all my energy wasn’t focused on ‘being the eagle’ our car was going to be detected.  I don’t know where that feeling came from, but I followed my instincts.

     “You are so weird, but that’s what I love about you,” he mumbled.

 Beautiful Golden Eagle

     I flapped a few more times than glided, hovering over the highway for quite some time. Now the black sky seemed to lighten, which permitted me to easily see the span of two freeways. Or maybe because I was an eagle, my vision had improved. My heartbeat increased; this was so unbelievably cool.  I enjoyed the freedom I had never experienced in my entire life, at least in this life. It was absolutely exhilarating.

     I remember when I was in third grade, and we lived in Florida, the neighborhood kids, my brothers and I were outside playing hide-in-go-seek when I became frustrated because I could barely see in the tar-like darkness. When all of a sudden, a thought popped into my head, and without questioning it,  I allowed myself to morph into an owl to borrow his eyesight. I wasn't shocked that I could see everything clearly.  Another time I remember borrowing this magic when I was about to compete in a race at school. I listened to my steady quick breath and saw myself as a beautiful black jaguar. I won a second-place ribbon running against all the sixth graders in my school.

      I never wondered as a child where I had learned this technique, but once I had taken some Shaman workshops, I knew what  I had done.  I had journeyed.  I often wondered if my unconscious mind or cells had remembered a previous life because I am 16th Cherokee Indian.

     “There’s a cop two hundred feet away, slow down!”  Alan commanded.  My eyes followed his pointed finger, and I recognized a black and white car parked on the dirt medium, separating the freeways.

      I don’t know why I was so confident, “Don’t worry.  We’re okay.  He’s not going to see us.” 

We passed the police car smoothly while going 85 mph in a 60 mph zone.

      “God d_ _ _!  How did you do that?”(Alan rarely cusses.)

      “Stop condemning God.”

       “I mean, darn.” He looked at me, surprised, “I don’t get it. I always get tickets when I speed.”

        Smiling, I still maintained focus while the winds whispered through my wings.

    Years later I learned in a Shaman workshop that people who do this technique need to be very careful as they make their car invisible to everyone so a nearby vehicle could drive into your lane thereby hitting you. That scared me a bit.

81 If we would have forced Kyle to go to a full drug treatment program, would it have changed anything?

    
   After Kyle was off heroin for about a year, he walked into our bedroom while I was folding laundry, leaned down and petted our Westie, then nonchalantly said, "I need help." The statement sounded as if he needed assistance with his homework, but I knew that's not what he meant. He placed his foot on our Victorian stuffed chair and showed me the needle holes between his big toe and the next one. I  waited for an avalanche to catch my breath, but I guess my body finally accepted that he was on his own path and there wasn't much I could do about it. I looked into those disappointed blue eyes.
   "Mom, I'm sorry. I know I can kick this."
    "I know you can too." He gave me a warm, tight hug. Was he hopeful that his strong arms around me would defuse any disappointment?  But I wasn't upset. Maybe too many things had happened these last two years, which taught me that I can't can't totally protect my children.  My son held his own keys to his future and the only thing I, as a parent, could do was be there for him for support and encourage him to heal.
   I told Alan what Kyle had said. The days of trying to hide all the chaos such as Kyle's car accidents and drinking to protect him from his dad's wrath were over.
  "Tina, I'm scared that he doesn't have the will power to fight this demon. I'm scared we're going to lose him." Alan had a catch in his voice, he was struggling not to cry. I often wondered if he cried alone in his car while driving to a job. How could he hold in so much pain? "We have to make him go to full drug rehab. He needs to be sent out of California away from his drug buddies. We have the money."
    I agreed but wondered if  Kyle would agree.  

    After Kyle had a session with his psychiatrist, I was called into his office. I have an architect husband, so I know what an organized office looks like, but even Alan had a pile of active files on his desk. Every book the ceiling to floor bookcase was lined up in perfect order, even the two pens obeyed and laid parallel, two inches from the desk pad. And one file sat on the pad, I assumed Kyle's. 
  The doctor crossed his legs. "Kyle admitted that he slipped and used again."
   I was proud of Kyle for telling his psychiatrist the truth. Last two or three years, the truth was something Kyle had learned to stretch as if making taffy. I told the psychiatrist that Alan and I want to place our son into a full care rehab facility out of state.
   "Mom, I know I can do this," he said quietly but intensely.
   The doctor glanced at Kyle and said, “He’s 21, neither you or I can force him to go if he doesn't want to.”
   Belligerently I spat out, “Well, we could kick him out on the street if he doesn’t go to a full care facility." Alan and I had already agreed that this was an option. We felt that maybe this would wake our spoiled son up and teach him to be responsible.
   But the good doctor pulled his squarish black rimmed glasses off and then shared that because Kyle was mentally ill, he calmly suggested, that we didn’t do that.
 I asked the doctor since Kyle was mentally ill if I could fill out paperwork so we could make mental health decisions. He said we could do that, but Kyle had come a long way on the new medication. He was right, the schizophrenia and bipolar symptoms were pretty much under control. His scratching, hallucinations and talking to himself about cops following him around had disappeared entirely. "You need to trust him," the good doctor had suggested.
   After Kyle's breakdown, he tried to jump into taking a full load of classes at college, but his medicine hadn't taken hold yet, so we encouraged him to take a break for a while so could give himself time to heal. The following year he was ready; we suggested that he start with one class.  This time he wasn't struggling like he had the semester before.
   He knew that he had placed stress on Alan and I’s relationship. He knew Alan, and I needed a break from it all when we decided to celebrate our 30th anniversary. We wanted to do something special, so we had planned a trip to Vancouver. I was very apprehensive about leaving him alone, and Kyle could feel it.
   “Mom, I’m going to be okay. Stop worrying.” He reminded me that since he had no keys to his car because of his last D.U.I.(we hid them), he could only get around by friends driving him and he had stopped going to parties over a year ago and after finding wet towels in my cupboard, a tip of a knife broken in my cutting board and a filled hole in the ways in the laundry room, I had had it. (Often times I didn't tell his dad.) I told Kyle if he had any more huge parties that I personally would kick him out.
   I asked one of my students that had graduated a few years earlier if he’d take Kyle to his psychiatrist and group drug counseling appointments. I was tempted to ask Travis to stay the five days at our home and pay him so Kyle would have someone around. But Alan argued that I needed to trust Kyle.  I was very apprehensive about leaving him.


   Kyle overdosed and passed away while we were in Vancouver.
   Would anything have changed if we wouldn’t have gone to Canada?   Nope. Friends came out of the woodwork after Kyle died, telling us of the plethora of times their parents or wife made them go to rehab and how they finally realized enough was enough and they kicked themselves into rehab. and became clean because they wanted to, not because someone was forcing them.
   We learned later that Kyle wasn’t going to his group drug meetings, and sometimes would slip out the backdoor when I dropped him off or after his session, he would have a drug buddy pick him up, and they would go shoot up. In plain English.....he wasn’t ready to stay clean. 

82 - Talk to your children about S-E-X before they get to 6th grade

   

        I had started 'sharing time' whenever I could fit it into my art class because I had a couple of students who were hardcore gang members at my school that year. No one was talking much. Once I had started Share Day, it opened them up, maybe too much.

       I opened my mouth to say something but immediately clamped it shut. One of my 8th graders shared proudly that he was a father already. He had talked his sixth-grade girlfriend into ditching with him. Of course, they started doing what high school students do, not what middle schoolers used to do when I was growing up. In the thick of things, Jimmy realized he didn't have a condom, so he grabbed a plastic bag in his room.

     Some of the 7th and 8th graders asked Jimmy, who was now in 9th, how he felt about being a dad. (Our school hadn't switched to a middle school yet.) He told them that he loved his son but was too young to be a father. Suddenly his macho voice disappeared, and a soft sheepish voice snuck out, "But most of all, I feel stupid because I thought a plastic sandwich bag would work as a condom. I should have had a condom on me because I knew I was gonna have, you know..." His voice trailed off.

      My students laughed, making him turn even redder. I tensed, worried that Jimmy would get pissed, but it looked like he felt comfortable with the class for the first time. I was proud of him for sharing his most embarrassing moment. I know the students listened to him more than they would have to me if I had given a lecture on being responsible when you have sex. But this talk made me aware that I needed to be a vigilant parent, talking to my kids about the responsibility of having sex and having the maturity to have it. Because I knew I couldn't shrink to travel in their pocket to ensure they behaved. Thank God I didn't have to worry about it as Kyle was 7 and Nicole was 3. But I wondered when was the appropriate time to start a conversation.

       I don't know how your parents told you about the birds and the bees, but I think my dad was worried because it was 1971, and the sexual revolution already had been in full swing since the late 1960s. My twin brother and I were in high school when our dad handed my twin a book about sex and told us to read it; if we had any questions, we could ask him. Joseph was biting back a grin, and I was holding in a giggle. I tell you, it was so hard not to burst out laughing. Since my dad hadn't signed the papers for us to watch the movie about the birds and the bees in 6th grade (my mother did), he didn't know we had already learned about all that scary but embarrassing stuff. Our brother, Alex, who was a year younger, received a more straightforward book. The three of us cracked up that our father gave us these childlike books. When he asked if we had any questions after reading them, the three of us said no and waited till he walked off to have a good laugh. HIgh school was too late then, and now junior high is too late to talk to your kids about the birds and the bees.

      I totally forgot about talking to my children in 5th or 6th grade. Still, around 8th grade, I was the one who spoke to Kyle about waiting to be sexually active until he was at least college age because he would be more mature and responsible. (8th grade is too late.) Then when we moved Kyle out of the house for a semester because he had totaled his second car and I felt he needed to continue his education at Santa Monica College, I bought him a box of condoms and told him I was not ready to be a grandmother yet. "Sex is something you do with someone you care about," I had said.  

      I still wasn't sure what to say, but he gave me this sheepish grin and said, "Thanks, mom." He probably was already active, but I was too chicken to ask.

     As for Nicole, too much chaos was happening in the house. It totally slipped my mind to talk to her, but maybe it was because she rarely went out, so I didn't worry. When Nicole was in 10th grade, at school, the nurse handed out condoms as long as parents signed an authorization paper. But instead of signing the paperwork, I told Nicole, "I hope that you will talk to me before you become sexually active, and I'll gladly take you to get birth control pills." I remember this strange smile she gave me. Now I realize how many kids will come up to their parents and say, "Hey, mom, I really like Mark, and we'd like to screw around. Can I get on some birth control pills?" I don't think I ever talked to her about the responsibility of having sex, but maybe because she always seemed more mature than I ever was at her age, I didn't feel like I had to give her a lecture.  

     Don't be naive like we were. Start talking to your kids early and continue talking to them every single school year. Roffman wrote "Talk To Me First: Everything You Need to Know to Become Your Kids' "Go-To" Person About Sex" that children who grow up in a family where sexuality is openly discussed postpone risky behaviors, which include sexual activity.

   Kids today live in an era where media exposes them to a deluge of sexual subjects. Many T.V. shows and movies exhibit sex without intimacy or do not show the critical process of deciding even to have the experience. 

      "The average age to have their first intercourse in the United States is currently 17 years old, with only 16 percent of teens having sex before they turn 15. The percentage of high schoolers who say they've had sex has been dropping for 20 years and now stands under 50 percent. The number who describe their first sexual activity as "unwanted" has dropped by a third in less than a decade and now stands at well under 10 percent. "https://rewire.news/article/2014/03/25/golden-age-teen-sexual-responsibilty/   Many had stated they had had sex with a girlfriend or a boyfriend and had used protection, a big difference from when I was a teen.

      6% of middle schoolers are having sex which has led some schools to offer free condoms.

     How should you approach "the talk?" It cannot just be one talk and you're done. You have to be ready to talk about the subject on an ongoing basis.

Some do's and don't s to help you teach your child about this critical subject:

     Husband and wife need to sit down and discuss their feelings about age-appropriate and consensual sex before talking to your child. I'll never forget when y younger brother, Alex told us he had sex. My two brothers and I were shocked, and then I asked him, "What did you do?"  

      "We held hands." He replied. We teased him and verified that he definitely was innocent. He was in 6th grade.

Talking to your teen about sex is too late.

   Don't assume school covers the material. Start this discussion when they're young and with age-appropriate material. And explain how their body is going to change. Yes, they'll get some of this info from school and maybe from their peers, but there will be holes, and you don't want any misinformation or missed information. (Get online and buy age-appropriate books. A little girl I babysit, who is 4 years old, pulled out a book, and that shocked me. It was honest, straightforward, and visual. I guess I'm a curmudgeon. )

Make yourself available to talk, and if you're busy, sit down or set up a time.

     When young people are engaging in behaviors that are beyond their developmental capacity, it's almost always due to a lack of adult supervision. Kids want to be able to speak to their parents, so you have to be approachable. No judgments; keep an open mind if they're asking you questions.

   It's essential to make your child feel comfortable and for you to feel at ease talking about whatever issue is brought up. Yes, you're not going to be perfect at this, but your child will know that you're not the expert on Sex Education. If you don't know the answer, admit it and look it up together. Or promise you'll find the solution and get back to him/her later.   

   Finally, don't get hung up on having a parent talk to a child, Homme says. The goal is to create a caring environment where a "trusted adult," be it a grandparent or caregiver, can provide guidance. 

 Don't use pet names for private parts.

    No matter how tempted you might be to show how creative you are, do not make names for private parts. You need an open, honest environment. Plus, when you use the actual name, 'vagina,' you're saying to your child, there's no shame when you say the correct word.

Be aware of the correct setting for your conversations.

    Berman suggests that a car might be the perfect place to begin the conversation. Just think, your audience can't escape, and due to the seating, there's little eye contact which might make you feel a bit more comfortable. But don't do this every time, or your kid will shut down. Another ideal time to broach the subject might be when you go for a walk. "Boys especially respond better if you are engaged in some kind of activity together, like throwing a ball or washing the dishes," Berman says.

Don't give too much info.

    Don't give so much info that your child feels overloaded and tunes out. Just answer their questions. If a 7-year-old asks where babies come from, don't describe everything in graphic detail. Just tell your child that a baby grows in their mommy's tummy. If your child is 10 or 12, the response will naturally be more involved and age-appropriate.

    Use your child's questions as an opportunity to understand where he's getting his information about sex. Ask them a lot of questions.

Explain their rights, responsibilities, and what's at stake.

     Even though many kids now look physically older than their age, they still have tons of growing up to experience. The brain's prefrontal cortex, which is associated with rational decision-making, does not fully develop until age 21. (Unless they use drugs, that brain section will develop a few years later.) Just think of the mistakes you made when you were 18 to 21. Those raging hormones made us feel immortal, incapable of making mistakes or doing anything wrong.

    It's just not the consequences of intercourse, but another risk when being involved in other types of sexual activity, contracting sexual diseases. Explain what their responsibility is when having sex and what the consequences could be if they are pregnant. (One year, we had about eight pregnancies in our high school, ranging from 9th to 12th grade. Of course, many of us teachers thought it was because of that T.V. series  about the lives of real pregnant teens.)

   Explain that they shouldn't let anyone push them into it. If I had to do it again, I'd practice with my children how to say 'no,' so they're not pushed into doing something they don't want. (This is setting boundaries.)  You have to tell them that it's their body and they have to make the final decision, but that you hope they will think of the consequences and make a wise choice and hope the experience is with someone they love. Having sex can change one's life, and that's not something to play around with.
 

Helpful books:

    Berman, Laura. Talking to Your Kids about Sex: Turning "The Talk" Into a Conversation for Life.

    Elliot, Sinikka.  Not My Kid: What Parents Believe about the Sex Lives of Their Teenagers.

80 - Don't push your child or grandchild into your profession or a profession

    Don't try to push your child into a profession that you wished you had chosen or one that you are in.  Yes, it’s okay to say, “I wish I would have gone to school to be a teacher, but that isn’t what I want you to be unless that’s what interest you. I’ll be proud of you in any profession that you choose.”

     My dad mentioned quite a few times about wanting to be a high school teacher, so my twin, Joseph,  felt that our dad expected him to be one. Therefore, that’s what he became because he thought our dad would be proud of him if he chose this profession.  However, in Joseph’s heart, he really wanted to be a professional singer, and he easily could have because he has a voice that would blow you away. And an old French exchange student of ours still has a father who pesters him to go to school to become a doctor like him and his ex-wife, but that is not what Paul wants to do. We're not sure what Paul wants, but now he's happy working various jobs and living off the land in New Zealand.

    I wonder why especially men try to talk their kids into following in their footsteps or the footsteps they wish they would have taken.  Is there a familiarity with the profession, so the parent thinks he could help the child in some way? Or maybe he thinks it’s a secure profession with benefits; therefore, he won’t have to worry about his child. 

    We didn’t really talk about a profession with our children until high school. I know I discussed with Nicole following a Musical Theatre career because she was such a natural at it and because she didn’t have any idea what she wanted to do professionally. Or was I guiding her into the profession because I had really wanted to be on stage, but I was too insecure to do it.  Now I realize  she didn’t want to share what she wanted to be because she knew her father would be freaked. She became a mortician. When Alan found out, he did get grossed out. I, however, told him that it took a very very special person to go into that field. I'm very very proud of her.  Alan has finally gotten used to the idea. He felt that she was so intelligent that she could have done anything.
   It takes an intelligent individual to go into that field because the courses are challenging. Her choice fit her personality. She liked the arts which had a tinge of darkness. Also, she was excellent in science and math and unlike me, she didn't have any problems with memorizing. Some of the courses required are:  psychology,  interpersonal communication and grief counseling, a class I'm sure which helped her process her grief after she lost her brother to a heroin overdose.

   You, as a parent, guardian, relative, Au pair person, babysitter or grandparent have to be open and accepting. It’s their life. They are going to be the ones that have to like their job, not you.

   Yes, parents or care giver should discuss your teen’s interest and stress the importance of making a decent living so bills can be paid. If they're in their teens, get online and look up the education needed, and yearly income together. Have your teen do the math. Share with your teen how much it takes to live monthly: rent, utilities, food, insurance, car, etc. (I did this with my English students.) This will really open their eyes. My students were always shocked when we did this as a mini assignment in regards to a reality check.  I think they appreciated their parents even more. That does not mean a parent should stress going to a 4-year university. There are plenty of jobs out there that have a two-year program. Some professions will train them while they are working on the job. 

         Kyle was so confused about what career to choose. I kept telling him he’s 19, just relax and enjoy going to school.  But now even community colleges make you chose a career. He decided upon   rchitecture. Math wasn’t his strongest subject, so I was worried. I told him, “Kyle you don’t have to choose architecture because your dad is doing it.”

      “Mom, I’m not, I just don’t know what else to do. And I like buildings." He found the math too difficult and decided to switch to history as his major and P.E. and teach high school He had talked about being a teeacher when he was in high school because he had had some excellent teachers. But Ithink he thought his dad would be more proud of him if he went into architecture.

    In Europe, a few countries allow teens in their last two years of high school to work or train with professionals in the afternoon to see if they’d like to work in that field. Then they can experience what it’s like to be a plumber, nurse, electrician and then decide if it's right for them. Some actually start learning a trade.

     In Germany they encourage the high school graduates to work at a few jobs they're interested in before taking classes at the university, so they have some experience behind them and have grown up a bit, so they’re more focused.  I wish that were more of a philosophy in the U.S. Maybe there would be less drinking and better grades the first year of college or trade school.

     The best advice I can give is to talk to your children  but leave your own agenda behind. Ask them what they’re interested in doing at an early age. It will change probably at least 50 times before graduating.  Don’t become anxious if your son decides he wants to be a dog catcher, just go with it. You can talk about the pros and cons of each job. Don’t talk about income until maybe middle school.

  You can highlight this site, copy and paste onto search section at top of page.    The sites change often, so I only listed one. But I'm sure you can find a couple of useful ones all by yourself.

 https://www.thebalancecareers.com/helping-your-children-make-career-choices-525407  

79 Dead son Lecturing me about why he chose to be Bi-polar in this Life Time

 
                                   JOURNAL ENTRY           November   2011 

   After having a daughter run away from all the chaos in our home and then losing a son to deadly heroin, I was bombarded with guilt. There were so many dark thoughts: if I would have done this or if I could have done that and not been a chicken shit, everything would have been different.   I would still have a daughter who was talking to us instead of shutting us out of her life, and we’d even have a son who was alive.
   I drove to school struggling to blink away the wall of tears; I could barely see the road.  My mind would not be quiet. My brain kept replaying all my mistakes. I pulled into the school parking lot, unsure if I could even crawl out of my car. The car mirror told me I looked like shit. My eyes were red and puffy. 
   “I wish I could have guided you better,” a sigh of disappointment slipped from my lips.   
   “Mom, it wouldn’t have mattered, even if I didn’t get involved with drugs, I still would have died.” My dead son explained.  “Would you feel any better if I would’ve been killed in a car crash?”
   “No, but maybe you wouldn’t have suffered so much while growing up. And we wouldn’t have become so confused and upset with your behavior. The whole family morphed into other people.”
   “Mom, I’m sorry but what happened, was supposed to happen. I made that choice before I was born and you made your choice to have me as a son. These conflicts had to occur for all of us, including Nicky for our souls to advance.” 
   “But why would you choose to be bi-polar? You were up and down like a yo-yo.”
   “’Cuz it made me learn some lessons quicker. My soul needed to learn specific lessons faster because my soul knew my physical life on earth would be short.”
   “What the hell lessons did you learn?”
   “To accept myself, I learned I didn’t need my friends for approval. Also, I learned to work harder to get what I want. Determination definitely wasn’t something I was born with, remember? I always wanted to give up anytime something was hard.” I smiled and shook my head in remembrance. “Most of all, I finally accepted Dad and knew he loved me even though he lost his temper with some of the stupid decisions I made and the dangerous things I did.”
   “You know, this sucks to the trillionth degree, don’t you?"
   “I know, mom. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt any of you. I wish I could have listened and learned from my mistakes.” He paused a second.  “You know, it’s not like I left you. You’re still stuck with me.”
    I released a long sigh.  “I just miss your physical self and your life experiences." I could feel that he had smiled.  No, I don’t mean the car crashes and the drugs. I miss you talking about your friends, your dates, school and your future. Also, I've missed experiencing that with Nicole too, and that majorly hurts." My eyes well up with tears again. How in the heck am I going to teach today?
   “Sometimes you and I talk more than we did when I was alive the last few years. As for Nicole, you’ll have that relationship with her like you had with me. Just be patient. I say that a lot to you, don’t I? Be patient. Maybe that’s another life lesson you have to learn, huh?”
   I chuckle, “Yea, I’m not very good with that word, but I’ve come a long way with it." I sniffle and blow my nose on an antique handkerchief, something Nicole got me into instead of using Kleenex. "Love you. Have a super day.”
    “You too, mom.” 
   I grabbed my computer and briefcase, looked in the mirror again. Well, my eyes look a little better. Oh, well, my students are used to this look. I slammed the car door.  One of my students was already at my classroom door.
    Ana asked, “Can I help you?”
    “No, I’m okay.”  I tried not to look at her, or she’d notice I was crying.
   “We walked into the room, and I set my stuff down.  Ana followed me to my desk.
    “Ms. B., may I hug you? It sounds like you're having a Kyle day."
     I shook my head, yes, fighting to keep my emotions at bay. I’m always amazed how loving and sensitive the students, faculty, and administration has been at Canoga High School since Kyle passed away. I felt her strong healing arms squeeze me. They seemed to give me strength.
   “Have a good day, okay?” She chirped.
    I nodded, smiled at her and thanked her and swallowed hard. I knew I would.
   I knew my personal counselor would not be there for me every second I dipped into depression, but right now he was the one who’s been helping me keep it together, him and my therapist. Yes, I knew I’d have to give him a lot more freedom. And I knew I was selfish, but I couldn't help it. I understood in my heart that he has his own life up in the heavens, but I wasn't quite strong enough to let him go. Not yet.