Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell: Not Really for the Military

A couple of years ago, the military ended its “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell” policy. Not an insignificant accomplishment considering how many military leaders stood up to disagree with abolishing it, but a huge victory for those in favor of its demise. Now, it’s generally said that the end of the policy did not cause any big problems among the men and women already serving, and those caught in its teeth can live openly while serving their country.

But there’s another use for “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell.” Do you have a college student? You might know what I mean.

In the late ‘90s I sent my older daughter off to college. The economy was different then, and I firmly believed that sending someone away for that part of their education, if financially feasible, was a good idea. She went to a school in upstate New York that I could get to within a few hours from my home in northern New Jersey, and learned to live on her own, handle her own work, and in general, figure out how to get along with a much more diverse population than she knew where she had grown up. To this day, I believe it’s a good idea for a student to go away if the costs can be handled.

But her living far away also made me realize some things. The phone rings at 2 a.m. My first thought is that someone is hurt—or even dead. But no, it’s a boy issue. Do I really want to know? Not really. She has to figure out her social life. Did I even ask? Well, yes, the next afternoon, when I had both eyes open. If she wakes me up for that, I have a right to ask more questions. Notice, I didn’t ask in the first place.  I wanted her to have a good social life, although not at the expense of her grades, but I wasn’t going to ask about it. And I really didn’t want her to tell me too much unless she was heading for trouble.

My children know that I’ve always been there to listen to both the good and the bad. And that I have the right to offer an opinion even if one is not requested. But if I don’t ask about something, and you don’t want to tell me about it, then there’s no harm. At least not for the small stuff. Obviously, if you’re hurt, or sick, you should tell, but I still try not to ask too many questions unless I detect something in the conversation that is bothering one of them. Then, I might poke—or shove—at it a bit. I like to think I know when to back off.

So, I think “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” might have two audiences. I’m all in favor of the military accepting the homosexual population into its ranks. Knowing every little nuance of my daughers’, or anyone else’s, life, is not necessary. If I don’t ask, think carefully before telling me.

And the new rule is: if it’s after midnight, someone really needs to be dead, or very sick, before you call me. Otherwise, the answer you get probably won’t make a lot of sense--or could be something you weren't expecting.

A Grandchild Is Coming!
A Grandchild Is Coming!

Finally, it’s coming. We’re going to be grandparents in just a few weeks. My mother will be a great-grandmother. My sister will become a great-aunt, which I suspect she’s more into than she was when she first got nieces. All of our friends are anticipating this event. For us, we’re almost the first in our circles to hit this milestone.

Speaking of my mother, she’s ecstatic. I think she thought it might never happen – her late best friend was up to five of them, but now there is no way to, as they say, “kvell” about it there. But every day I am asked, “What’s the word from Denver? How big is the baby now? I’m telling everyone I know.” I’m with her; I want to talk about it too—to everyone.

Have you seen how many tests the mother-to-be now has to go through? In my day, there was a little blood work, and if there was any concern, maybe an ultrasound. Even amniocentesis didn’t happen too often, and it was usually done only in select hospitals. Now they have whole panels of tests for very specific areas. Ultrasounds are commonplace, with pictures sent home with you. The only one that really bothers me is the digital one, which can show the face of the baby. And there are also prebirth tests to make sure the delivery can’t transfer germs to the baby. Who knew about this stuff years ago? And yet the kids usually arrived just fine.

How do I feel about this? I think I’m ready for the next generation to arrive. I like the idea of another member of the family, although this time I don’t have to be the primary caregiver and will be there for play dates. I’m with the group that believes grandparents are there to provide support—especially mentally and emotionally—but also to play with the kids, wear them out, and then return them to the parents and let them calm the kids down. I’m not sure I’ll overwhelm a kid with sweets though. This time around, it’s just payback.

I haven’t had the heart to tell my daughter and son-in-law that while they’ll always be special people, the grandchild has moved to the top of that ladder.  And what can be more special than that?  It’s the main rule of grandparenthood. Now I make sure to check out baby clothes in every relevant store I pass. Don’t know what we’re getting yet but I’ll be prepared.

Time to get to the big event.

Why Blog?

Why does anyone blog? They either have an expertise in an area that appeals to others—or offer free advice that readers appreciate and can apply to themselves. Or, they have life experiences that they feel will help their readers and are applicable to others. This blog probably falls somewhere in between, with more of an emphasis on the second type of blog.

Who am I? I am a mother of two grown children, the wife of a financial business executive, an editor with experience in general topics including medical/pharmacological areas (feel free to get in touch if you need editorial help; I have reasonable rates). I have some friends—not a lot—with whom I’m close; and a lot of acquaintances. I’m also a really good speller. I read a lot of my daughters’ papers throughout their college years, still sometimes review my husband’s memos for typos and general comprehension, and will even provide instant advice on grammar and wording when asked nicely.

This blog is here because my friends like to talk, and they tell me I’m a good listener. Some of my friends, and even acquaintances, sometimes think of me as their therapist.  I am a very good listener, who will offer an opinion if asked, but doesn’t get crazy if you don’t do what I say—but I will come back and say I told you so if you go off on a path that then causes you more problems because you ignored me. I also don’t always talk a lot, so I’m the speck on the wall who’s just taking it all in and thinking about how what I hear applies to other things in life.

Of course, that also means that I internalize a lot of other people’s stress, which isn’t good. I’m hoping that this blog, which will be a combination of my observations of what others do and my thinking about those actions, might help alleviate that stress. And it also might strike a chord out there with others who, like me, have reached a new point in their lives and need to figure out which road they want to go down next.