Picking Flowers For Mom

What turns people into criminals? In the longstanding debate over nature vs. nurture, new research published in the journal Criminology suggests that genes play a key role in determining who leads a life of crime and who stays on the straight and narrow.

The research, conducted by University of Texas at Dallas criminologist J.C. Barnes and colleagues, analyzed the genetic and environmental influences on criminal traits of 4,000 people. The researchers discovered a strong link between genes and criminality.

"If we're showing that genes have an overwhelming influence on who gets put onto the life-course persistent pathway, then that would suggest we need to know which genes are involved and, at the same time, how they're interacting with the environment, so we can tailor interventions," Dr. Barnes said.

One of my teenagers needed me yesterday afternoon, knowing he was unable to complete the school day, he had a teacher call me and avert a problem. He desperately needed Mommy Time, at least that's what we call it. He sat at the kitchen table and poured out his deep, inner thoughts to me. Yeah, a teenage boy. I sat and listened, he ended it later by crying over Grandpa, a "Why did he have to leave us?"

This son is part of a sibling group that has had many brushes with the law. This article caught my eye regarding genes and criminal behavior, and I'd been thinking about it all day long as I went about my business.

This particular son has greatly improved over the years, he participates in therapy, sees both a psychologist and a psychiatrist, he's been very challenging to raise, but has a completely likeable inner core. He's very popular everywhere he goes.

I've always known my life choice, my calling, in raising older sibling groups wouldn't be easy. I'm a work horse, I can do this...until there's family safety that has been totally and dangerously compromised. This kid would never hurt me, this I know, even in his darkest, angriest moments, and there've been plenty.

One of his older brothers made me uneasy, we had many nights when even the butter knives, hammers, and screw drivers would be taken out of the house by me and hid in the woods. Another older brother of his was easy to raise, one sister was a mess, the other wasn't so.

"So our sibling group was normal but just kinda messed up? he questioned me yesterday, knowing there weren't serious mental health issues, behavior concerns out the wazoo certainly, but, hey, that's fixable, right? "Were any other groups like us? He then verbally named every older kid and questioned their overall back story.

I absolutely totally understand their trauma, we discussed this for about an hour yesterday, he knows I get it. He knows I love him. Since he realized it wasn't me he should be angry about, he switched gears and started questioning me about my own mortality. "Do you still go see your doctor? Will your heart hold out? If I lost you, I'd die," he wailed, thinking about Grandpa.

Irony again, as he often used to blame me for a great deal of unrelated issues.

Again, I get it. I know he's confused. If I struggle emotionally with the unfairness of life, how much so for the kids?

I'd spent the morning hauling in groceries, there's no other appropriate word for the amount consumed around here each day. It is a haul. Blasting praise and worship music through my headphones, scrubbing out my brain from negative emotions and fears and stressors, I planted 8 flats of 72 cells each containing four varieties of tomatoes, four of bell peppers, jalapenos, acongaguas, and Italian eggplants (Blanca Rosa), all heirlooms, one flat of lavender, and I barely even made a dent in the amount of seeds I have sorted by planting date in drawers.

"By date?" JoJo hollered in disbelief yesterday evening after school. "You're such a nerd. Who even keeps planting dates in their head?"

He walked away chuckling, headed to the X Box 360 that Travis had blessed us with that has served to greatly calm his emotions surprisingly, only to come back and tell me that the world is completely and neatly divided up by nerds like me, athletes like his own sibling group, and then the artistic, musical folks like Lily. "Man, can that girl sing, or what?" he asked in admiration, having been Lily's classmate since Pre-K, her brother for 11 years of their lives. They are both 14 years old now, both in ninth grade at the high school.

Back then JoJo hadn't lived here that long, Lily was born here, and her self-confidence made JoJo cling to her emotionally. Grandpa used to be the one who'd drive to Pre-K and pick them up each afternoon as I still worked in the school system back then. The Pre-K photographer had even photographed them sweetly together, likely knowing it'd capture my heart and make me wanna buy it. Well, duh.

It's time to sow cole crops outside, Hazel yanked daffodils up out of her acreage and brought them in to Sarah, informing her with utmost importance, "Lily does this for Bita! I want to pick flowers for my mom too." When Sarah was Hazel's age we used to tell each other, "Let's go watch the garden grow," an activity in which we'd stare in admiration at the garden beds and anticipate the harvest. An intentional, thoughtful, mindful activity practiced throughout her childhood that I know has had a profound, very positive affect on her. How could it not?

Now an educated Foodie, a nerd, an accountant for Pete's Sake thus making her an A+ nerdite according to JoJo's assessment, which reminds me that Monday is the time to sign up for Spring soccer already.