Shandi Gets A New Job

Shandi doesn't get much blog time, and mostly that's a good thing since the only post dedicated wholly to her has "black eye" in the title.

Shandi is a good kid.  She is a good kid of average intelligence, and although she graduated from high school with honors, she's a complete dingbat.  I love her dearly, but if you know me even the littlest bit, you know I'm not one of those puffed-chest parents that constantly tries to make everyone think her children are perfect.

I'm not perfect.  And neither are my children.  All of them have struggled at one point or another in their lives, and I'm not afraid to share that with other people in hopes that they may either be able to relate to the struggle themselves, or maybe to glean some advice from them or to them on how to handle whatever the current forehead-wrinkling moment might be.  I also hesitate to share any good news about her with people because it seems that as soon as I open my mouth, she kicks the chair out from underneath me.  I take it day by day with Shandi... she can be trucking right along doing great things and I've told people how she's turned it around and WHAM, she totals my beautiful pink limited edition Mustang because she's not paying attention when she's driving.  True story.  And that was her fourth car accident, just for the record.

Shandi attempted college right after high school, and I absolutely 100% knew that she was NOT READY and that it would end in tragedy.  It did.  So I sent her to work.  She found her first job at a local shoe store, and worked hard there for a year.  She struggled, just like someone who flunked out of their first semester of college should, and eventually regretted it just like she should.

Shandi is incredibly independent.   She doesn't have a lot of friends (her own choice), and I attribute that to growing up in a military family and moving every three years as a child.  Our move when she was 9 had such a traumatic impact on her that she receded into a shell and from that point forward wouldn't allow herself to get too attached to anyone for fear of moving again.  She also doesn't like loud noises or gatherings with a lot of people.   Well, if you know us, you know we are loud.  Our house is loud, our boys are loud, and The Coach is REALLY LOUD.  And of course I'm loud, because I'm constantly yelling at the rest of them to stop being so loud.

When she turned 19, she was ready to move out.  She was desperate for space of her own, and was tired of relying on us to support her.  She was NOT READY to move out.  I knew this, but I let her do it anyway because the only way Shandi learns anything is by doing it and learning from it.  I also knew that she needed to put some serious effort into this moving out experience or she'd be right back home in no time.  So I kicked the move-back-in crutch right out from underneath her by turning her bedroom into my new awesome craft room.  Now don't think we wouldn't let her move right back in anytime she wanted, of course we would.  But this sent a message to her that she was an adult on her own, and she needed that.

Things went well until they cut her hours at work from 60 to less than 14 per week.  You can't pay rent on that.  She lives in a tragic little apartment in the ghetto, and her landlord was willing to work with her on her rent until she could find another job.  That doesn't happen very often, and I'm thankful he worked with her.  To her credit, she absolutely REFUSED to allow us to help her pay her rent.  That's good, because I wouldn't have paid it anyhow.  We help her in plenty of other ways, but I told her from the beginning that I would not ever help her pay her rent when she could live at home for free.  It is what it is.

She looked for a typical teenage girl job for a few months (restaurant, clothing stores, etc.) and came up empty handed.  With her rent bill slowly mounting, she turned outside her comfort zone to look for a job.  And she found one, very quickly.

She found a job with a mobile cement-slab pouring company that travels from place to place pouring things like highway barriers, etc. as they are needed for big construction jobs.  Yes yes, Shandi is pouring concrete.  12 hours a day, 5 days a week.  She started the week of the big heat wave and almost died.  Turns out working at a shoe store is a little easier than pouring concrete in the 114 degree heat.  But the pay was good and her back was up against the wall.  Either suck it up, take the job and pour the concrete or move back in with The Loud Family.

She stopped by in the evening on her second day of work and was in miserable shape.  She was shaking and clammy from heat exhaustion, nauseous and crabby.  And tearful.  And miserable.  She refused to let me take her picture.

Finally I got a picture, because she was too tired to fight me any longer.

I waited to write this post because I wasn't sure she would make it through the first few days of the job, but she really and truly surprised me.  She dug deep and worked though the heat exhaustion, sunburn blistered lips, and the men on the job site that didn't think she could do it, and she is now in her third week.  Is she enjoying her job?  Heck no.  But she isn't miserable.  She has told me that she enjoys this job much more than the shoe store.  But it is absolutely teaching her valuable life lessons and making her realize how important a college education is.  She will have her debt paid from her first college tragedy paid off next year, and then she will I hope go back to school.  She says she will, but like I mentioned before, I won't hang my hat on it until I see the diploma.

 I told her about my first job in the Navy hoping that it would bolster her confidence a little, and I also told her a job like this gives her all the playing power she needs when her own kids complain about having to get a job when they are her age... The old Bill Cosby "You think you have it bad, when I was your age..."

I am VERY proud of her for taking this job and for working so hard.  I love this child so much, and I hate to see her struggle.  But at the same time, I know that this struggle is turning her into a strong and self-reliant woman.  And she thrives when her back is up against the wall.  There aren't many 19 years old out there that live on their own these days, and I'm very proud of her for what she is doing!