Dreams...what do they mean?

This is an odd post....events at work last night brought back a random memory of a dream I had a long time ago...how long ago?  I'm not sure, but it was from my bachelor days.  Anyways in my dream I'm driving around down by the beach.  I'm cruising.  Checking out all the girls.  And they are all waving to me!  They all are smiling and I'm smiling back and somehow I realize that I'm driving the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile. 

I'm sure there is some insightful Freudian interpretation to this dream, but I just like it because it is funny.

I had a great one for halloween last year, but I'm not going to write about it because it is already on the web.  Here is a link if you are curious.  http://serialmommy.blogspot.com/2009/11/jasons-halloween-dream.html
It involves zombies and brain eating and retail service, if that makes any sense. 

In general I do not remember my dreams, if I have them, although I'm pretty sure I do.  I've had scary dreams but in general I do not remember them very well. I had one dream in which I lived an entire lifetime in a single night. I only had it once and do not remember any details about it.  I had a dream that convinced me my father was dead.  I woke up crying and I think it took me 5 minutes to realize that it wasn't real. 

I guess I'm curious as to why these particular dreams had such an impact on my concious thought that I remember them at least in part, when I am perfectly capable of going years without having a memerable subconcious thought.  My wife Jamie has particularly vivid dreams and can remember alot of what happened after she wakes up.  I would like to have more insight into my own thoughts, but they seem locked inside. 

Back to School?

Hello Cyberland. 

For those of you just getting to know me, as this is my first blog post and all, I'm a 33 year old dad taking care of a household consisting of my wife, 5 children, and myself.  There used to be some cats but they ran away.  That was actually probably pretty smart.  My wife wants a dog, I'm not convinced yet.  But I digress...
it is back to school season, which means absolutely nothing to this household since we're home scholars. 

schol·ar

 /ˈskɒlər/ Show Spelled[skol-er]

–noun

1.

a learned or erudite person, esp. one who has profound knowledge of a particular subject.

2.

a student; pupil.

3.

a student who has been awarded a scholarship.

 

The reason we home school started with our oldest son James.  James has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome.

 

  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Asperger_syndrome  

 

James is hyper-sensitive to certain stimulus, and has difficulty understanding emotions and nonverbal communication.  He has difficulty making transitions and tends to fixate on certain interests to the exclusion of all else.  We did the school IEPs and tried working with the counselors for several years.  We tried changing school districts.  We tried getting him into a specialized school  (he is too high functioning and needs to be "mainstreamed").  His behavior progressively grew worse.  He would run away from both home and school.  He would throw tantrums that would last 3 or more hours.  He would physically lash out at teachers, students, and siblings. 

Now James is a home scholar.  At first I had difficulty with understanding why my wife wanted to do this.  I knew James was difficult to work with.  I believed she liked the break she got when he was at school.  The more we talked about it the more I saw her side.  She couldn't relax while James was at school because the school was constantly calling her.  "Your son is having a tantrum and we can't stop it.  Your son struck another child.  Your son attempted to run away.  We need to suspend your son."  She was so worried about what he was doing when she wasn't there to intercede that there was no sense of relief or respite.

This wasn't an easy decision to make.  One of us had to quit our job.  I didn't want to quit my job.  I needed the break in the day away from our family to interact with other people.  My wife has more tolerance for the difficult behavior.  I would have been the stay-at-home parent if I honestly thought I could have done a better job, but I know that I cannot.  My wife has an incredible amount of patience.  Me not so much. 

The good thing is, it's working for him!  James isn't under nearly as much stress.  We are able to observe his behavior at all times of the day, and get his prescriptions adjusted before they lose their effectiveness.  Academically he is doing great.  He is improving his ability to sustain friendships and interact in a more positive manner.  He is 11 years old now, and it has been a long road to get to this point, but we're by no means out of the woods. 

The point, or one of the points I'm trying to make, anyways, is this:  Home schooling is not something we initially wanted to do.  We didn't choose to home school because of some religious beliefs, we aren't members of some strange cult or militia.  We are simply trying to provide for our children the best way we can.  What came next surprised me.  I went to some of the home school play date get-together events my wife got involved in through her on-line community.  The children were well-behaved, but not anti-social at all.  The mothers were great people.  Here were the children that I wished my kids would make friends with at school.  Only they weren't ever at school for them to meet.

I don't understand where we as a society decided it was better for other people to raise our children for us.  We're supposed to let go and let them become who they are.  That's a bunch of crap.  When you display a lack of interest in your children they will feel a lack of self-importance.  They need your help and guidance.  As a parent you are their primary role model in life.  You will fall short, just like every other parent ever has.  But you have to do your best.  Your best, not some teacher or guidance councilor or whomever.  Because they can never be what you are, their parent. 

So here I am, in up over my head, but it's okay...it's okay because I know I will do better than someone who doesn't care, because I know I do.