I am watching a CNN show on IQ. I shake my head because they just don't get it. They are reporting applications of intelligence that are traditional and apparent. Things like reading at an early age, playing violin at an early age, college at an early age, calulus at age 12....a standardized score on an IQ test. At this point, it is evident that the reporting writers simply don't understand IQ relative to the world's applications...either they don't understand, or the experts aren't explaining it right.

Yes, people that are able to "read chapter books" in kindergarten or lead a nationally-reknown orchestra at age 11 are definitely gifted and probably celebrate a high IQ test score. But that's not what creates or recognizes the genius. I, myself, have a relatively high IQ--but that means nothing. I used to delight in school and good grades and absorbing knowledge--it was wonderful to learn and to grow. I remember missing school for a week at a time, then returning and catching up with all homework by noon. School only became difficult when life interfered and those around me found my curiosity and intelligence to be a problem for them, and that's about the same time my entire life fell apart.

I stopped caring about school, and when I returned to college thirteen years later, I hated all the classes and did the minimum necessary. In those classes where I could write and use my critical thinking skills, in those I excelled. But most of the classes were boring and I thought "dumbed down", and I just didn't even try. Only when a challenge is before me do I succeed, and that is what I think happens with children. Children need to want to exceed expectations, and in those areas where they can exceed, those are the areas that you will find a genius level of work in every child.

I am very, very good at what I do in my job. I am almost totally unupervised, and it is my job to tell my official supervisor what needs to be done when and why and how---she is wonderful and smart and the most intelligent supervisor I've ever had, but she would never interfere with my work as long as I seem to know what I'm doing. While I appreciate it, this is said only as an example--because she would never trust me to do the work of some of the new employees that have to sort mail. That doesn't challenge me, so I would not succeed in that job. But those who do it can do it in seconds--and it would probably take me hours.

In the same way, there are ladies I've talked with who would never dream of looking at their husband's pay check--and they devote almost their entire day to their children and grandchildren. They know how to give a motherly love that I cannot do--while I love my children, I can't seem to balance that love with discipline, so the children I work with never learn the way to do things within the rules of the real world. But these ladies do it effortlessly.

And I would never dream of building a starstep. Tonight I needed to fix my stairs. I was able to pull up the carpet--though tearing it in several places--and recognize that the step was beyond my experience. I looked at it and was trying to figure out exactly what I needed when my son's friends stopped by--took one look, fixed them in about ten minutes (as a temporary fix) and then offered to come back next weekend when I can get some good lumber and rebuild them completely in about a half an hour. I am all for that. I told them what I thought we needed to do--and they agreed that we could do that, but it would probably fail again in a short time. I yield to their intelligence and don't even pretend to know half of what they know.

And, there is another job that I think should be paid more than any other people on earth: waiters and waitresses. I have done waitress work, and I was horrible. Not only are you on your feet all day, but you have to keep track of every little detail, coordinate all serving, know math, deal with different personalities, and a whole lot more--all done in the blink of an eye. Waiters and waitresses have brains that don't stop, and I don't even want to try to catch up with them.

When people talk about IQ, they really should qualify that and say that it is really their EQ--the potential that person has to increase their intelligence standard with education. Until we learn to appreciate abilities that are not quantified with education, only then will we be able to give children the lessons they need to keep their individual minds active and engaged. Only then will all our children find an opportunity to grow in a world that challenges them.

I can hardly move my shoulders. I can turn my head about 10 degrees to the right or left. My shoulders and my neck muscles are in pain, and there are tears in my eyes...I don't feel the headache yet, but I know it's there. I think I've become so used to headaches that I don't feel them any more. I just know I have to do something or I won't be able to move at all in the morning.

I have some muscle relaxers somewhere. I just have to find them. I hope I find them soon.

On another subject, today I read a bit about Alphonse Rodriquez' personal history. He is the man found guilty of sexually assaulting and killing the college student from up north. As a child, he was sexually molested and teased horribly. As an adult, he has a form of multiple personality disorder in which three distint personalities are extremely separate. From what I read in the newspaper, he can be the sweetest, most caring man in the world. Before they released him from prison last time, he told officials that he didn't think they should let him go. And, from what the expert witness says, he has pent up anger that is released with sexual aggression.

That scares me--because it sound very familiar to me. Whenever I get stressed or upset, I have to fight a desire to be sexually promiscous, and it is a dangerous thing to be. I take risks that should not be taken, yet I can't seem to stop it. And it is on the extremely rare occasion that I actually act in anger. I was married for a few years and never once did we argue--but after we divorced and I could not have sex with him any more, well, then, when he wasn't around, THEN I got angry and yelled. There was no one to yell at, and I did it when no one was around, but I more and more realize that I simply don't know how to be angry.

Some people might like it when a person never gets angry, but I am beginning to think it's a very unnatural thing, a situation that is very sad.

My younger son left the house crying. He couldn't sleep and he wasn't telling me anything until I asked him if he had a bad phone call from someone, and then he blurted out that he had broken up with his girlfriend. She didn't break up with him, he said, and he'd take care of it, he said through his tears. He's 17, and this is his first girlfriend, his best friend, and it will be hard on him. He'll make it, but it will take some time.

And my other son called from Sioux Falls. Things there were not all rosy after he got down there after he was told to come down and he'd be paid at least thirty cents a mile. Instead, they sent him to a owner operator that pays twenty five cents a mile and keeps him out for months at a time with no benefits. He's pretty disappointed, but he's not going to take that job. Tomorrow he'll ask if they have something else, and if they don't, he's coming home and he'll work for a company that drives flatbed but pays the thirty cents with benefits. He doesn't want to do the flatbed thing, but he will do that rather than work for the other guy.

In the meantime, the younger son broke a tred on the stairs going upstairs. I rent, so the landlord should be fixing this--but my landlord takes months to fix anything in the best of times, and right now he is fighting a fierce battle against cancer of the kidneys. I don't think he's doing too well, and I know he doesn't have the energy to worry about my stairs. So, this weekend, I will need to find someone to repair these steps. I hope no one breaks their ankle before the weekend.

My sister called me and told me that while my nephew stayed overnight here on Monday night, his sister was home alone because my sister works nights. While my niece, 17, was home alone, she heard someone come in the house through the window and start up the stairs. She locked her bedroom door and called out for my nephew, knowing he wasn't there because she was talking to him on the phone, hoping that whoever it was would think Wayne were home. It must have worked because they left, and they had to call the sheriff out. The person had broken the front door and couldn't get in...so they broke the lock on the window and came in. Now she has to borrow money from me on Friday when I get paid to replace the lock and fix her door. I won't have any money left, but I think she needs to be safe more than I need money. And I think my nephew and maybe my son should stay with my niece every night.

I am going to bed now, and I hope I sleep. I haven't slept for the past couple days, and my body is beginning to tell it. I can no longer swallow anything but soft food. Everything else lodges in my throat. When it happened last spring, they dilated my esophogus, but I think if I can just relax, then things will get better.

Tonight my older son left my home to work in a job that will take him away from me. Like his father, he has elected to be a truck driver, and today he left for orientation and then he will be gone more than he will be here. His girlfriend helped him pack, and he has told me that within two months, they hope to get their own apartment. My baby is growing up and I feel like I cheated him of so much, like I am not the mother he should have had.

And I feel that way even moreso for my younger son, who never had me with him as a toddler like my older son did. I was divorced by the time my younger son was born, and I've had to work ever since. It's been frustrating on my part, and I am angry at the world that I could not give these children all that they deserve.

But I love my son, and I wish him well. I want him to drive safely and to be careful. My grandfather on my mother's side, and his grandfather on his father's side both died as a result of truck driving accidents, and it's not an easy life. Of course, he thinks he will one day own his own truck and then build a fleet of trucks. I only want him to be happy...and safe.

It is this mother's hope and prayer that my boy is held in God's hand.

It is now 3:24 in the morning and I cannot sleep. My stomach is churning and my eyes feel like they are as big as basketballs, and they have no eyelids. That's how they feel, anyway.

Every time I turn around, something new happens. And the more I fight against the bad, the more bad stuff happens. I have no one here that helps me fight all this, just people who tell me to be patient and things will happen. And then they tell me they are too busy with "big projects" and don't have time to help me right now. And so I return to my little ball of pain and frustration as they work on their projects.

I'm assured there is action being taken, but I don't feel anyone wants to help me at all, and I am just stuck trying to make it. I have accepted a second job, though I don't know what that will do to my stress level. I'm literally thinking about selling blood, or more exactly: plasma.

I'm just glad that there is this blog that I can write and get some of this frustration out. Not only does it release some stress, but there are friends out there who read this and make me feel good with their comments. That is a positive spot in my day, when I read the good comments. I know there are people out there pulling for me, and that means a lot.

Sometimes I think that if some of these people that are paid to help me, to collect child support and find me ways to get by, if they could meet me and understand---rather than just be a file case--then maybe they'd do more. But, in the end, all I am is a number and their process and their projects are all prioritized, and each file holds the same hurry up and wait priority.

I know that things have to get better. They can't get much worse. And I am more than ready for those better days.