Whoop! There It Is! Summer.

After the Golden Age: A Book Pick

Yes, I am doing a book pick, something I've abandoned, but feel is fitting with summer upon us!  First of all, After the Golden Age is not particularly deep or richly thematic...nothing too profound, but it is the perfect summer brain candy.  (I stole this line from a fellow book clubber.)  After the Golden Age takes place in today's times, in Commerce City.  The twist, it is a super hero fiction.  I never pick up these types of reads, but I do enjoy a good summer superhero flick, so why not a superhero read.  I have been pleasantly delighted at each turn.  I love how normal it is to talk about how the superheros are either in their street clothes or their skins. (Oh and I'm reading this on a Nook which I always thought I'd hate, but can now see the draw too...sorry Sherman Alexi.) 

I'm writing this plug before finishing the book.  I have about 50 pages left to go and as soon as I clean up the kitchen I fully intend to sit the boys in front of  the TV and finish my light adventure.  The book fit the perfect plot triangle, very textbook.  But isn't that what you want for a summer read and a travel companion to beach or mountain?

My only unknown is:  what is Celia's superpower.  I still think she's got one...even though she's sure she's a genetic dud...born of two superhero parents.  Right?  Well, I'll let you know once I get to the end.

Frist Grade Facebook?!

My son turned to me during our evening tuck-in, "Well, at school today "blank" said that "blank's" butt was on Facebook."  He did a little uncomfortable giggle and looked into my eyes for a reaction.  (My son is in first grade and has never clicked on any FB links in his life.)

I, of course, was angry...angry that there was obviously bullying and a child getting picked on.  BUT, don't worry, I did not show this.  Note:  to get information, to process with kids, and to make the most out of teaching moments, remaining calm is key.

"Honey, do you know what Facebook is?"  I truly was curious.

"Yeah, that thing with all the pictures."  Yep, he knew.  He's looked over my shoulder while I've been navigating my own FB account.  I've showed him pictures of his cousins and other friends' kids that I know he finds interesting.

B did reveal the name of the person who made this announcement, but he was reluctant to tell me the child who was being made fun of.  He didn't want to share.  Its like he knew that someone was being targeted, someone who maybe isn't as socially acceptable as the other kids in the class.  We all can remember this.  I remember making fun of a new girl that wasn't as good-looking as the rest of the girls in the class.  This was not one of my better moments as a child.  My comments kept her ostracized for two years...until I moved schools.  In fact when I went to a birthday party with some of my old friends, a full year after I transferred schools, one of my "cool" friends said, "You know, Abby is really nice."  I swallowed a huge ball of guilt after hearing that comment.  (Should I crucify myself even more and confess that I went from attending a public school to a private school, a private Christian school?  Oh dear.)

Finally B confessed.  My suspicions were confirmed.  The typical child was being targeted.  He giggled again and then buried his head under his covers.

"Oh honey, don't you think that made him feel bad?"

B shrugged his shoulders.  "What if that was being spread around the school about you and when you were walking down the halls a 3rd grader came up to you and said, 'Hey, I heard your butt was on Facebook.'  How would that make you feel?"

B looked a bit saddened, "Embarrassed."  I then went on to say that the rumor was not true, I knew it wasn't.  No butt was on FB, and then I proceeded to give a very helpful tip, "Never put body parts on the internet."  I went into my classic conversation about such things, about how our private parts are special and are to be saved one day for our future wife as a gift.  I added that once something is on the internet, you can never take it back.

Then this morning I read in the newspaper how FB is trying to open accounts for children, oh dear...please no.  Do I really have to type it out, why I'm not a fan of this possible move?  (Yes I realize many children have accounts by simply lying about their ages.)

Bullying has always happened, but the internet does seem to take it all to a much more damaging level.  Parents are always commiserating on when to have the "sex" talk with their kids etc., but I really hope that parents are also thinking about the "internet" talk.  And I hope that parents realize these are continuous conversations that appear organically in our relationships with our kids and continue to grow and evolve as our children and our world's change faster than we anticipate.

Friday Photo: Nutria Battle

Our hero!  He did battle with a nasty, huge nutria and won!  The beast is dead.  However, he ended up with an infection, some surgery, and this lovely accessory. 

Technology Void

I could claim some higher-ground here in my parenting.  I could call it intentional.  But if I'm really honest, money is more of the motivator than a deep belief against gaming systems.  However, I will admit that I'm glad that money is a factor and has prevented us from purchasing any of these devices for our boys.

Yesterday when B got off the bus he was mad, at me.  "Wow, what's with the face?  What did I do?"

"I want a DS."  Part of me wants one for them too, really...when I see how it makes them feel a bit inferior to their friends.  They've taken full assessment of their situation, done the research while they are at friends' houses.  They know we have a technology void.  This weekend I even caught B in a little-white-lie with his cousin, "Yeah, I have an ipod."  His cousin responded, "Well we have three, but we have to share them as a family."  Actually, B does not have an ipod.  His father has one that he lets the boys have full access to.  B keeps the speaker and ipod right by his bed, so I guess it feels like it is his, but it is not.

Often when I go pick the boys up from playing at friends' houses the mom will say, "Wow, they like to play video games, don't they."  I don't know how many times I've gone to pick C up from a playdate, and I have to search the home to find him hidden in the corner with a handheld system in his hands.  I feel like that health mom who doesn't allow their kids to have refined sugars and turns their children in to ravenous beasts around candy.  (One of these children was in my 6th grade class and stole the Ding Dong out of my lunch for months.  Oh and my husband did not have a TV growing up, which only meant he figured out what time shows were on and made sure he was at a friends house when the shows aired...much to the annoyance of his friend who was bored of those shows.)

Now before you think I'm a horrible mother, the boys do play video games.  They can access many of the same games that their friends play on our computer.  They love it.  It is a passion for them.  I've had other moms tell me that maybe I should just get my boys a Wii, "Then maybe they'll get it out of their systems."  Um, I doubt that.  I remember when my oldest was two and I was basically clueless in my mom role and actually told a friend, "Yeah, we really have been pro-active in our screen time and B just isn't in to it."  Um, B was two, that was it.  Developmentally he was just not at that zone stage...now he is.

Sometimes I take our computer and hide it, so the boys will not ask to use it.

The other night I did this and it forced them to play and create.  And I didn't have to deal with the begging.   I  went upstairs and watched B play with his Legos.  He was having fun creating worlds and vehicles for those worlds.  There were sound effects and general ingenuity.  I thought to myself, "Well, maybe when they get out into life they will be the innovators and creative-thinkers of their generation.  Maybe when they are the next Steve Jobs they will say in a speech, 'I thank my mom for my brain.  She denied us access to technology growing up.  Even though I didn't like it at the time, I appreciate it now.  Unlike our peers, our brains were left to grow and develop, forced to create and solve our own bouts of boredom'."

Oh, who am I kidding, I know it is only a matter of time before we finally save up, give in, and buy a gaming system.

Update: Anticipate

Over the New Year I decided to embrace a word for the year instead of making goals or resolutions.  I felt like God handed me, lovingly, the word anticipate.  I felt like I was moving away from old commitments and into new ones, just wasn't sure what the new ones were yet.  I love being aware of the movements of God in my life and living in trust as my life takes new turns.  I learned long ago not to force change, but to anticipate, hope, plan, and trust change.

So, guess what!?  I am embracing a new teaching challenge: preschool.  Never would I have predicted this career choice.  I started out in secondary education, loved my stint at the college level, but now I'm actually very excited and eager to begin this new venue for my passion of teaching.

I'm finding myself taking on some new volunteer work also.  I'm trying to get some planning and movement in the way of long-range plans for my sons' school playground.

But don't worry, I'm passing off many of my old commitments: church women's retreat, mom's Circus Teabreak's group, standing back a bit more from Sunday school leadership (although still taking my turn at teaching), found a new mom to take on the school newsletter, dropping Site Council for next year...probably not coaching my son's soccer team (Daddy says he wants too.).  So, don't worry, I actually think I'm striking a more healthy balance and focusing on fewer things and doing those few things well:  teacher, mother, wife, daughter, and friend. 

But, this transition period has been busy, and that is why there has been less writing lately on my blog.  Just thought my faithful readers would like to know.

Perfect Jeans

I have never been that lucky girl; never had that perfect pair of jeans…until now.  I love this denim like no other.  My passion is unequaled.  And this chance encounter was all quite by accident.  It was a harried decision, a choice I almost didn’t make, a choice thrown on at the end of a time-sensitive –shopping-endeavor.  My childhood friend and I had indulged our stay-at-home-mom fantasies and hired a babysitter while we allowed ourselves to shop, in a mall!  Still our time was limited and was encroached upon by the knowledge that there was a 5 to 1 ratio at her house.  So even though we appeared to be free women, we still shopped like two rushed, frenzied mothers: there was a time constraint.  Luckily I did have my best friend with me who obviously knows a good pair of jeans and recognized they were a hit on my legs, thighs and buns.  “Well, should I get them?  What do you think?”

“Definitely.”  I was unsure because the hems dragged a bit.  She promised that she could alter them if I needed it.  This scene is almost three years old, but is clear in my mind…one of those fateful, frozen events.  By this one simple purchase I was changing the course of history, at least as far as my wardrobe goes.

For three years I would wake and gaze into my closet.  I had choices.  There were other jeans.  But whenever, out of obligation, I chose another pair I always regretted it.  My heart was another’s.  My true love lay in my drawers waiting for me to realize my mistake and return to him and his threads only.

Days with Mr. Perfect were just better.  My confidence oozed:  the right color, with the right fade; the right softness that didn’t sag by the end of the day; so dependable.  I could dress these jeans up or down.  They were good enough for casual grocery shopping, picking up the kids, or going on dates with my husband.  They were morphing into my body, becoming a second skin.  We had lit the wedding unity candle and had become one.

That is why my heart broke recently when I discovered a thin stream of light protruding through the back, left pocket.  Maybe it was my imagination.  Maybe if I stood straight, did not squat, no one else would notice.  I tested this out on my husband.  “Well, maybe if I wear blue underwear?”

“Maybe it is time to get a new pair of jeans.”

Sorrow.  I knew that fates would only give goodness to me once.  You only have one first love.  I tried to find the exact same brand, but it had been three years and the fashions had morphed slightly.  (I guess I’m like that woman who still insists on a beehive at the beauty salon.)  I compromised.  I found something I could live with, not necessarily live without.

I brought this new pair of jeans home and placed them in the drawer next to my worn-out-lover.  I was sad.  I knew that when I woke up and put them on, it would not be the same…and it was not.  I still have my perfect-pair-of-jeans.  I will not throw him out yet.  And I still wear Mr. Right on days when I know I am safe from public scrutiny.  I now understand the powerful connection between a woman and her jeans.  Some things in life you can only learn through experience.  Jeans are one of those things.