And To the Right You Will Find the Orgy Room

I had one of those rough playground moments recently with another parent. The dad I was talking to mentioned that he’d caved and was purchasing a Wii for his son for his 7^th birthday. They’d planned to wait until he was eight, but decided they just couldn’t because this boy was the last in his circle of friends to get a Wii. Apparently all the play dates with his friends were disintegrating into brawls because his son wasn’t familiar with the games and so the other boys would snatch the controls from his hands out of frustration. So, now he will have his Wii and everything will be fine, or so this dad thinks. He didn’t seem to notice the color draining from my face. I mean, I have a 7-year old boy, and we don’t have a Wii. Since how I feel, as my husband puts it, “can blow with the wind,” I couldn’t think of anything to say. I just thought to myself, “my God, should we get a Wii?” I moved across the playground and found a good friend who does not blow with the wind like I do and recounted the conversation. She, very astutely, stated that that could happen with anything, even a game of Monopoly. Not every kid will have the same games, so that’s what’s nice about playing at someone else’s house, you get to play with different things. And my friend made another good point that if these play dates are deteriorating so badly, why aren’t the parents stepping in to say that if they can’t take turns, help their friends learn and play fairly that the Wii will get taken away? Good points I thought. Whew, I felt better.

I’ve heard other parents tell stories about how they started buying all kinds of video games, bigger TVs, etc. because otherwise no kids would come to their house to play. It all makes sense, sort of. But although I want lots of kids to feel welcome in my house, I don’t want a bunch of kids sitting around staring at a video screen, I just don’t. We live in a mild climate and can go outside almost year-round. Our town is filled with parks. The kids sit in school all day. After school, as far as I’m concerned, is time for running around in the fresh air until it’s time to go home and do homework, eat dinner and read before bed. I put in a video for the kids sometimes while I make dinner. I don’t have anything against video watching, really, we just don’t have much time allotted to do it. When the kids have friends over to play that is decidedly NOT a video-watching time because, well, they have friends to play with! And they do play, I’m always impressed by the creativity. So, I think, why spoil it?

And, I think, do I want my friends coming to my house because they like my STUFF or because they like ME? I choose my friends carefully over time, so, generally when someone comes over we’re pretty happy sitting down with tea or wine and having a chat. But what if I went to the same lengths some parents seem willing to go to with their kids to attract friends? What would I do to make my house “cool” so people would accept me and want to come over? Would people like me more if I greeted them at the door and said, “we have an open bar, please help yourself, we have nothing but top shelf liquor. In this room you’ll find a theater with the latest movies playing and down the hall is our indoor pool and hot tub.” What if these measures didn’t work? What if that wasn’t enough? What lengths would I go to to make people want to come over? “Oh yes, please come in! To the left you’ll find the sushi bar and to the right you will find the orgy room. You can have sex with whomever you wish.”

I have nothing against Wiis (and I think an indoor pool would be great). But they are expensive, and money like that spent on entertainment is an investment in my household. Our kids so far have not seemed interested in having one, but I’d hate to think that their chances for friendship and social acceptance in the community are compromised because we don’t have the right “stuff.” I don’t admire a keeping up with the Joneses mind-set, and in fact have never cared much for what the Joneses are doing. However, when cast in the light of possibly having one’s child ostracized, my foundation of values starts to feel a little crumbly (remember I blow in the wind)?

For now, failing play dates seems to be a problem for the son of the man on the playground, not mine. And whether or not the Wii will fix things, I don’t know, but I will guess that before too long the kids will grow tired of the Wii and all those parents will need to run out and get the next, better entertainment system. And I guess they will. Maybe my kids will stick with the “fresh air and lego kids” or maybe they will pester us mercilessly one day for some kind of trendy and expensive toy and we will decide to get them one because it seems like the right solution at the time. But I do dread that day if it comes.

I’m Done With Happy

A popular refrain we hear often is, “I just want my kids to be happy.” This sentiment is so commonplace most of us don’t question it anymore. We have all heard more than enough about how parenting these days is too focused on pumping up our kids’ self-esteem so they feel so great about themselves all the time that they never know any emotion other than happy. And so our children are flooded with meaningless awards and praise. They grow up to the steady mantra of “good job,” or “nice work,” or “gosh, you’re smart!” It seems that all kids have to do is show up for an activity and they are handed a medal. My observations are not on par with scientific study, but I don’t think my kids are one bit happier having acquired those trinkets than they would have been without them. My 7-year old has been aware of how devoid they are of meaning for some time, “oh, everyone gets one of those.” Imagine how Oscar night would seem if everyone went home with the coveted statue?

I think, that on the whole, I would consider myself happy. But, at any given moment on any given day I may feel: frustrated, tired, content, stressed, irritable, silly, extremely happy, sad, calm, worried, blessed, and I’m sure there are a few other emotions I’m missing in there. The emotions are often a response to what’s happening such as discovering a leaking roof, spending time with great friends, hearing sad news about friends or family, looking at old photos, finishing a project, running late to pick up a kid from school, being handed a home-made card, and the list goes on and on and on. And I think, that’s normal, right? A RANGE of emotions is a normal part of the human experience. Whether or not one can say they’re happy at the end of the day is a result of how they respond to and deal with any of the infinite things that come up in daily life. Once basic needs are met I think some fundamentals of happiness are having the ability to form and maintain healthy relationships, an ability to bounce back from disappointments and solve problems, an ability to find joy in small things, an ability to make good decisions, and setting and meeting goals. I don’t actually think a drawer full of medals and a lifetime of hearing false praise will contribute to happiness.

And so, I’m done with happy. I really, really hope my kids will grow into content, positive people who will be very familiar with the happy emotion during their lives. But I don’t think shielding them from negative experiences and flooding them with praise will help. After all, picnics do get rained out. And what I really want are polite, resilient kids who understand the importance of kindness. I hope they develop healthy ways to handle disappointments, and I do hope things often go their way. But what I really need is for them to pitch in and do chores, and I don’t much care if that makes them “happy” or not. On a day-to-day basis they need to know that some things have to happen before you can do the thing you want to do. Some days are exciting and fun, but some are dull. You get some things you want, but don’t get others. Some people are nice, and some are mean. The world is, at many times and places, a very bad place. Bad and unexpected things happen, and injustice is everywhere. It can be beautiful too, but we have to take the whole package.

One of the truly happiest moments I had recently was when we had a gorgeous break in our cold, rainy, spring weather. It was sunny and warm and the Dogwoods and Azaleas were in full bloom everywhere. Bunnies were hopping around (really). I had a break and went for a run. It felt so good to be out running on such an incredibly beautiful day. My heart truly felt light and the air smelled great. It was a wonderful moment. I realized that that moment could have been enjoyed by anyone who had the good fortune to go out just then, as long as they were willing to focus on the here and now for just a few minutes. That’s what a I want for my kids—that no matter what happens during their lives, no matter what kinds of ups and downs and successes and failures they experience, that they can find peaceful moments of true elation and well-being that have nothing to do with external praise.

Spring, and New Beginnings

The crocus are all open in our neighborhood, and there are tiny green leaves on all the Willow trees. I love this time of year. Winter here isn’t really that long or harsh, but it’s gray, and such a dull palette really gets to you after a while. Snow would help, because a blanket of fresh white can make an otherwise drab winter day look dazzling, but we don’t have that very often. By March, we are ready for green. And we gladly take the yellow, purple and magenta that come with the crocus and forsythia, with the promise of more colors to come.

Spring arriving this year feels like last spring, but, as happens every season, I notice how much the kids have changed since the same time last year. We celebrated the very first warm weekend day with a bike ride, and no one was in a bike trailer! With everyone able to power themselves along the trail, we noticed how all our family outings have changed slowly over time and will continue to change. We no longer carry diaper bags or time excursions around naps. We no longer hike with a 30-pound child in a backpack. And now, with everyone capable of pedaling their own bicycles, there is a tremendous sense of freedom and hope for more ambitious adventures to come.

Last weekend we also made a new joyous discovery. Along with the green peeking out on the landscape and the lovely bike trip, we have found that are boys are now big enough to be a source of labor! Who knew? Jim and I went through piles of old books last weekend and found many that we don’t want anymore. We piled the out-of-date guidebooks next to the novels we never liked and left several large stacks on the top of the third floor landing. Then we ignored the pile because neither of us could find the time to transfer all the books downstairs where we could figure out what to do with them.

The books caused me stress every time I walked by them and wondered how long they would be there. Then Jim had an epiphany. “Hey boys,” he said. “We’ll give you two dollars each if you carry all these books downstairs.” They were thrilled! They made about eight trips each, lugging book after book down two flights of stairs. They were ecstatic about their hard-earned money. The next day Jim handed the boys shovels and they very willingly went to dig holes in the yard and help plant raspberry and blackberry bushes. What was truly remarkable about these two events was that the boys were actually helpful. The work they did really contributed something. It was also remarkable that they didn’t complain, although I imagine the novelty of realizing they could be helpful will wear off and they won’t always be such eager beavers.

I miss having babies now that I don’t have one anymore. I risk throwing my back out every time I lift Hugo. But, as sure as the seasons come and go, kids grow up and change. With the prospect of spring and new beginnings upon us, I am embracing this new phase of parenthood, with two boys that are truly family participants now. 

And They Are Who They Are

Before I had kids I would have told people that I’d have no problem with any kind of child I had: outgoing or shy, athletic or artistic, straight or gay. I enjoy all kinds of people and always have, as long as they mean well and are kind. I felt that I could accept any kid I got, and then help instill the values that my husband and I find important: being kind and honest, open-minded, hard working, and generous, etc. I figured that the reason some parents struggled with they way their child is was because they had rigid hopes for the child that didn’t necessarily fit with the child’s interests, for example, they would only be happy with a child who wanted to become a doctor or lawyer and captain of a varsity sports team. You get the idea. And I knew that would never be me.

And it isn’t me…not really. My kids are very different from one another and I truly am amused, amazed, and delighted by them just for being who they are. But, I worry more about Jasper probably more than I ever will about Hugo, because I realize that his experience being a person that is a little different might be harder for him. I thoroughly appreciate him, that’s not it. What other child, upon hearing I brought home a DVD on the history of government, squeals with glee and wants to leave the dinner table to watch it right now? I love that about him. He just can’t get enough knowledge, and now I pretty much have to google every question he asks me because I don’t know the answers. But, although his lofty intellect far exceeds his years, his social skills do not. I cringe on the playground when he walks around by himself and doesn’t approach other kids. He does have friends, but he does much better with them one-on-one. If there is a group, he doesn’t know what to do. If a friend he usually plays with plays with someone else, he won’t go over to them. He just doesn’t know how. I see how painful this can be for him and my heart aches, and I find myself secretly wishing he were just a little different. Why can’t he be more outgoing? Why can’t he be more comfortable around other people or in groups?

I get angry at myself for having those thoughts. But I do see what a much easier time his little brother has. He’s not shy. If he wants something, let’s say a snack or a chance to try out a skateboard, he will march over to boys five or six years older and a foot taller than he is and ask them. His interests overlap with other boys’: ball sports, roughhousing and race cars, so it’s easy for him to find someone to play with. Fitting in, for him, is just never a problem. I remind myself that it’s my job to parent the kids I have, and that they do not enter the world fully formed. Everyone has challenges, and my task is to help my children navigate their way in the world and to give them tools to face their challenges.

As I walked my son to school this morning and he talked about his difficulty on the playground, I told him that lots of people feel shy. We talked about ways to start conversations, and how it’s just nice to say hello. After school we stayed to play at the playground to take advantage of the beautiful weather.  I saw Jasper wander around alone for a while. He didn’t go near any other kids and my heart just sank. An unfortunate mother on the playground got an earful from me as I unburdened my soul to her about how I worry about him. But then, Jasper found his friend, Hannah, and they played off to the side together. Then I noticed another shy boy see them and run across the field to hide behind a tree to watch them. In this moment I saw another painfully shy kid with no idea how to approach two other children he knew he liked to play with. I thought, here is a teaching moment! I need to tell Jasper to invite that boy to play. But, before I ever made a move I saw Jasper go over to him, and before long they were all playing together and soon after that a couple more kids joined in. Needless to say, I was overjoyed.

On the walk home Jasper told me that at the playground he saw someone behind the tree and he went to see who it was. He said that when he saw the other boy he said, “Hi Rowan, do you want to play with us?” And, sure enough, Rowan did. Jasper was so proud of himself, and so pleased with the positive result. I surged with pride then, just so happy that he tried out this new skill and that it worked. So tonight, I can rest a little easier knowing that we have made some progress on this hurdle, even though I know there are many more to come. 

Got Control?

It’s been a disappointing couple of weeks. First, there is just that winter gloom that appears in February in Maryland: weather with a tendency towards the raw and bitter, without a hint of the snowy winter-wonderland that can redeem the darkest months of the year. The gloom around here has been compounded by Jasper’s pneumonia, which finally released its grip two days ago and Jasper went back to school and felt well for the first time after 11 days. My image of the last few days of near-quarantine are of Jasper diligently carrying around a box of tissues, of which he has become a connoisseur (he prefers Kleenex; Puffs are too “creamy” and the generics too rough), and a plastic bag to deposit the contaminated ones in to keep them off the floor. His nose and cheeks were bright red from all the wiping and nose blowing, and are just starting to heal.

I find sickness so hard to deal with. Of course I feel so sad for my sick child. But I have selfish concerns too. If my child is sick, I don’t get to see anyone either. I have to put aside my plans and projects because suddenly any free time I thought I would have dries up. It’s hard playing nursemaid for days on end. And canceling all the plans is distressing. At age 7, Jasper knows just what he’s missing. The play dates get canceled, he missed the Valentine’s Day party at school and the 100^th day of school celebration. He missed his art class, and a play we were planning to go with friends. And we all missed a ski trip. The kids had been watching snowboarding, skiing, and “extreme jumping” videos on the web in preparation and couldn’t wait to try to slide down some little hills at our local ski slopes. No matter how much medicine and soup I fed Jasper, no matter how many times I took his temperature and had him nap, I just couldn’t make him get better. Perhaps the most disappointing aspect to the missed people and plans is the fact that dear friends of ours are leaving for Zambia on Monday and won’t return until the end of May. I couldn’t see them or help them at all with packing or childcare, and the kids couldn’t play together. We did finally get to see them today for a little while to say goodbye, but since I couldn’t be part of the process of seeing them off, it’s a little surreal to know now that I won’t have another opportunity to see them until we welcome them home in three months.

I can maturely and rationally realize that with all the grief and horror in the world, a sick child who will get better is nothing to complain about. But it’s not just the missed events that frustrate me. My job is to keep the family on a schedule and I essentially plan our lives. I make the doctors appointments, schedule the teacher conferences and play dates and dinners with friends. I make sure there’s enough time for homework and food shopping and meal preparation. I plan the date nights and visits with grandma and grandpa. I get the kids to and from school on time, make sure they have enough time to play outside in the fresh air and make sure we get to the library. And when I’m not doing that I have my own projects: volunteer and freelance work, and projects around the house. And when one of the kids gets sick, it all stops. I can’t do my job, or more precisely, my entire job description turns on a dime. I cancel everything that was planned and make new arrangements for trips to the doctor and pharmacy. I become aware that in this phase, my entire life is dictated by illness, and that any control I think I have over what happens is largely an illusion.

The reality of parenting is how little control we have so much of the time. We can’t control what our children like or want to do or how they feel. We can’t control our own schedules because so often a tired or sick child will force us to change our plans. In my case I realize that at times, I just feel helpless.

I remember hearing about a study of Centenarians. The researcher wanted to discover what traits these long-lived people might share. One trait that seemed to appear in person after person was an ability to manage stress and roll with the punches. I don’t think of myself as particularly controlling and still love doing things spontaneously. But as I find myself having less control in my life, I find myself wanting more. For now I am grateful that Jasper is healthy and that life is back to a more predictable pattern. I appreciate that now, at least for a little while, I can once again feel that I have some control. 

Imagination

The other night we had friends to our house for dinner. They brought their two daughters, one of whom had just broken her leg a few days before while skiing. She was sporting an impressive cast on her leg, and was already developing some interesting new ways to get around such as pulling herself upstairs backward. Jasper and Hugo were impressed, and drew pictures and their names on her cast. After dinner, the kids disappeared upstairs and played and let us grown-ups eat in peace. The next morning I went into the upstairs play room to tidy up and noticed that each and every stuffed animal in the boys’ collection had a “cast” on it. The casts were made out of toilet paper and some extra chair stuffing I had lying around, and were secured on the animals with tape. Some of the animals were lying on cushions that had been pulled off the couch that were serving as hospitals beds. Arms and legs were splinted; one polar bear even had his nose wrapped! I just had to laugh.

I love the raw, powerful imaginations that kids have.  I love how those four children could immerse themselves in the same imaginary world and rescue all those poor, ailing animals. I’m sure child psychologists could comment on the compassion and empathy that the children were acting out in that scene.  I think I appreciated that moment even more because in this day and age, so many people are lamenting that children no longer have enough free time to play, and that when they do have free time they just want to watch TV or play video games. I am thrilled to know that in my little corner of the world anyway, the child’s imagination is alive and well!

And We’re Competitive About Cupcakes?

I recently received one of my alumni magazines (about which I’ve written before) and read the following article: http://www.colby.edu/colby.mag/issues/current/features.php?issueid=48&articleid=906

To be honest, I wasn’t really sure what the point was. I think, though, that it was about how these incredibly high-powered women who sound like they chew nails for breakfast wish their husbands would help pack lunches and make kids’ doctors appointments, and then they would have perfect balance in their lives. However, their ideas of parenting (I am paraphrasing here) include taking turns relieving the nanny and taking the 4-year old to school once a month (I’m serious). How can they think they will ever find balance? And they are sad that they will never be able to compete with moms who bake gourmet cupcakes and attend their kids’ sporting events. Whatever. And why do I feel like I will be viewed anti-women because I wrote this? I think of myself as a feminist and think men and women are equal in their abilities. I do think the women mentioned in the article are crazy though. 

I included my response below: 

I was confused by the article “Double Duty” in the winter 2009 issue. Was the point to say that these women would be having an easier time if their husbands took on more domestic responsibilities, or was it a celebration of what these women are achieving in business? I found it depressing. Every educated, two-career couple must make hard decisions when they bring a child in to the world. That child arrives with a 24-hour a day need for care. Two parents with two full-time jobs suddenly have three full-time jobs, one of which comes with strong emotional needs. Every family must decide what will work for all of them as individuals and as a unit and usually both parents need to make sacrifices and compromises.

The careers these high-powered women have chosen typically do not allow time for family, a condition that was at one time reserved for men. If both members of a couple choose these types of careers, then there will never be enough family time, whether the husband does his fair share of laundry and appointment-making or not. I’m not saying the women should not pursue these careers, but I believe that families find more balance when one or both members of the couple put the brakes on their careers for a while when they have kids at home. In choosing to push the careers forward full-throttle at a time when kids need you the most is not taking their needs into consideration. It is a selfish decision, and an imbalance is an inevitable result.

The fact that these women feel they are competing with moms who bake gourmet cupcakes, volunteer at school and attend sporting events is sad. What child cares about gourmet cupcakes? Where people spend their limited time is a reflection of their values, whether it’s at work, the gym, volunteering at the homeless shelter or at the tanning salon. And parents, mothers and fathers, who volunteer at school and attend sporting events, are there because they want to be—they value time with their children. No trophies are handed out, but the families that spend time together benefit by having a strong bond, shared memories, and a connection to their community. Relationships reflect the amount of effort that are put in to them and this is true with colleagues, a spouse, friends and kids, and we all have the difficult decision of deciding where we will put that energy.

I know many women (and men) who are proud to strong models for their children by bucking society’s obsession with status, money and egocentrism, and performing one of the most undervalued jobs in our country: raising our kids. 

Sibling Relations

One of my favorite things about my kids getting older is watching their relationship develop. Jasper was really excited when I was pregnant with Hugo, anxiously awaiting his new sibling. Unfortunately, for unknown reasons, he was positive that he was getting a little sister, and he was disappointed at first with a little brother. He soon came around though once the baby was born and generally adored the new addition to the family. That is, of course, until Hugo became mobile. Once the baby could get into Jasper’s toys and projects, knock down Lego towers and scribble on his drawings, Jasper wasn’t so thrilled about a little brother any more. I remember saying at one point a couple years back, “if they’re together, they’re fighting.”

Fast-forward two years and I would genuinely say that my boys are best friends.  At ages 4 and 7 they can spend hours playing. They still fight of course, but there are long stretches of time when they can visit imaginary lands together, build forts, and truly enjoy each other’s company.

Hugo has long admired Jasper, but recently his worship of his older brother has grown almost comical, with his desire to imitate Jasper’s facial expressions, clothing, and jokes. I will ask the boys what they want for breakfast and Hugo will stare silently out of the corner of his eyes at Jasper until his big brother responds, “I’ll have a waffle.” Hugo will look at me right after that and say, “I’ll have a waffle.” The copying has become so blatant that Jasper, Jim and I will often say, “Hugo, you are your own person. You can choose whatever breakfast/activity/color crayon you want.” This does not seem to be helping. Even when it comes to a discussion about their activities we might propose, “boys, you have time to watch a video or draw before dinner.” Hugo will stand there, not knowing what to do, until Jasper answers, “let’s watch Prehistoric Park,” immediately followed by Hugo happily yelling with conviction, “yeah, Prehistoric Park!”  

At times I worry that Hugo will end up not being the person he is destined to be because he is so influenced by Jasper. He has certainly adopted many of Jasper’s interests I think, purely because they’re Jasper’s. He can identify obscure dinosaurs and birds because of time spent with his big brother. However, in this regard, I see more balance. Jasper has been very much influenced by his little brother too. As a really little kid Jasper showed no interest in roughhousing with other boys, ball sports, race cars, and other “typical” boy behavior. But, he got a tough little brother, and I love watching them fight over who has the better, faster race car and then laugh gleefully as they play-smash the cars in a demolition derby. Jasper had no choice but to learn to wrestle with a little brother that was constantly flying through the air and landing on his back. These new skills have served him well and I now see him playfully tussling with his classmates after school and feels proud when he can “take down a fourth grader.” As much as Jasper introduces Hugo to the wonders of how mushrooms reproduce and the fascinating shapes of various crystals, Hugo has made his brother current on the cool factor of Star Wars, Speed Racer and monster trucks.

I just hope, as their mother, that they can always find common ground and appreciate each other. We foster this relationship by pointing out that having a brother is like having a best friend for your whole life.  Whether they always feel like best friends is yet to be seen, but for now I loved seeing them give each other a huge hug this evening and in the spirit of their much-loved book, “Guess How Much I Love You,” hear Hugo tell his big brother “I love you outside the universe and back,” and hear Jasper respond, “I love you outside the universe and back too.”

 

 

 

Helicopter Parenting

It recently occurred to me that despite how horrified I am by the phenomenon of helicopter parenting, in this day and age parents have no choice but to hover around their children. I cringe when I hear about parents complaining to college professors about a grade their child received and about parents negotiating the salaries of their college-graduate children. Parents have clearly, to me, become completely over-involved in their kids’ lives for these types of things to be happening. But I also think about how kids are not free to play outside on their own anymore. It’s not “safe.” Even if a parent believes in the free-range philosophy, there are no other free-range kids around to play with. And frankly, even if free-range is an appealing concept, one look at a web page of sexual predators in your neighborhood will change your mind.

So, that leaves parents with few options. Enroll your children in everything to fill their days, sit them in front of a video game or tv, or cart them to the park so they can run as though they are free range, even though you are there chatting with other parents and trying to half-ignore the kids. But they’re not really ignored, so when they wander too far or make someone cry or start picking the flowers in someone else’s garden, you yell at them to stop.

Now I volunteer in Jasper’s 1^st-grade class in school. I stuff folders and get to watch the dynamics, which I enjoy. For the past eight weeks or so, after saying I’d “help” with a math enrichment club, I have also found myself struggling to make a group of 14 or so 1^st-graders play math games and take quizzes. This I do not enjoy. I am there with three other mothers and none of the kids, as far as I can tell, want to be there.

Hugo, who is four, is home with me except for the three mornings a week when he attends preK. We grocery shop and do projects together. We have his friends to our house or meet with other kids and moms at the open gym or a park. I am with my kids all the time and I do feel like a helicopter.

The plus side is huge. I like being home with my kids and am happy that I can be. I went from being someone who never spent any time with kids at all to being someone who has seen almost every different way a child can experience ages 0-7 and all the behaviors, personality differences and developmental stages that come along with it. I do believe this has helped me be a much better parent, because I am constantly learning from people who I think are amazing parents and I also get to figure out, through observation, what I don’t think works in parenting. Through observing my kids in different environments I have also been able to address needs and issues that I might have missed otherwise.

The down side of this “helicopter” life though, is that maybe I see too much. I get to share in all of my kids’ successes and happy moments, but I also observe all of their frustrations and struggles. Whenever I see a problem (whether real or perceived) I jump into action.  As a result we’ve had impromptu tutorials on self-defense, snappy comebacks and conversation openers, discussions about feelings and motivations, book-searches on new subjects of interest, and the list goes on. It’s great, but it’s also exhausting. And I could be doing more. For instance, I haven’t volunteered once in Hugo’s preK this year (I pay good money for the seven hours a week he’s there) and do need a break, after all. And I wonder, is it all too much?

Back when kids went outside to play, knocked on doors to find playmates and returned home at the sound of a dinner bell, they had to rely on themselves much more. They fought more of their own battles, but they also suffered more silently too. I don’t know if it was better, but I do know that everyone I knew accepted the grades they earned in college and suffered the consequences of negotiating their first salary badly.

I wonder when, with all these hovering parents, at what point kids do become self-reliant? Jasper mentioned three fifth-grade boys with admiration today, “mom, they walked home from school without parents!” We are talking about three 10-year old boys walking three blocks without adult supervision. I was out playing on my own all the time when I was five!

One thing is sure, I want my kids to go off to college and then to whatever awaits them after that with an ability to look after themselves. I guess today’s parents’ job is to teach kids these skills while standing right next to them. 

Kittens, recap

 

Lava and Lavender in their new home.

I sent my last post as an email to the Executive Director at Animal Control. To make a long story short, we were allowed to bring the kittens home, on one condition, that we swear to never let them outside. I still disagree with how strict they are and think that a chance at a life with nice, responsible people who will love them is infinitely better than being stuck in a cage and then euthanized.

 

We are very happy to have them and they are great: affectionate, playful, and not at all intimidated by all the love little kids and all their friends can give them. I’ve included a photo. You can tell them apart by their eyes: Lava’s are normal and Lavender has one cloudy eye. We would have like to call her “Cyclops” but the kids didn’t like it and didn’t get it, so Lavender she is.