ReadySetMom

Jingle Bells: what happened to "Batman smells"?

Sadly, I find myself longing for the irreverent "Jingle Bells" lyrics of my youth:

Jingle Bells! Batman smells!
Robin laid an egg.
Batmobile lost a wheel
And the Joker got away!

Given the dark, movie version of Batman that made a bazillion bucks in the box office this year, you'd think Batman would still be it. But no. My daughter came home off the bus laughing and singing with this year's version of Jingle Bells:

Jingle Bells! {Name of friend you want to dis} smells!
Blah, blah got a gun
Something, something up a tree
Blah, blah since 1981!

Obviously, I'm missing most of the words. My brain short-circuited after I heard "gun." Just hilarious. Busting a gut laughing. I hate that it has a gun in it. What could be possibly funny about a gun? Trying not to overreact here, and sway her to my version of the song. Laying an egg is hilarious!! Really! You've seen the neighbor's chickens, right?

I think it's the smelly accusation that's really funny. It's the gun part that offends me. We've also be saying "Dum-dum, give me some gum-gum" lately. Don't like that either. Ha, ha. So it rhymes. Why does someone have to be the dum-dum?

Linguistic crimes: baby talk in older kids

While it's mostly cute or mildly worrisome when preschoolers can't pronounce all their letters or say certain words in funny ways, it's utterly repulsive when an older child attempts baby talk and says something inane like "Me want more mewk, peas." (translation: I would like a supplemental glass of dairy beverage, mother dear."). My almost 7-year-old is a well spoken kid. So when she puts on this baby act, I pretty much want to throttle her. There is nothing CUTE about it. I start looking around, wondering if there's anyone in earshot. Will they think she's developmentally disabled? Or just plain stupid? What in the world brings on this crazed baby talk? Heather and I have noticed our kids often trot off the bus speaking in this affected baby tongue. Is it their way of blowing off steam after a long day at school? Have I aided and abetted this language crime by remarking how CUTE the preschooler's baby pronunciations are, so that the older one is now trying to capitalize on that cuteness and get some of my attention? But more importantly, how do I make it stop??

Struggling with the hard work of learning

I had my second parent help day in my daughter's first grade classroom today. What struck me is how much work is involved in the learning the kids are doing. Some struggle to sound out each letter, and piece together the meanings of the sentences before them. Other kids make it look so easy. Some shed tears when the frustration becomes too great.

As parents, we are so far removed from classroom learning that we forget how hard our kids are working while they are at school. Reading can be so rewarding, yet also a source of deep frustration when it doesn't come so easily. I like the analogy they are using in the classroom: like riding a bike, they need practice to learn. That the hard work will eventually be worth the effort.

Free smiles, get your free smiles

Here's the latest comment from my youngest child that stopped me in my tracks:

"Mommy, how come you don't smile?"

Ouch. That one hurt.

I was a little puzzled at this comment because I don't feel like I'm stingy with my smiles, but it got me thinking. If my daughter, the one person in my life who makes me smiles the most, thinks I'm walking around with a dour expression all the time, then it's time to laugh and grin more. A lot more.

Now nobody wants to see me with a fake smile on my face. If I'm grinning while finishing a mountain of dishes after dinner, folding that third load of laundry or stopping to get gas in the car, my kids would probably alert their dad that something's seriously wrong with mommy. Then I might hear, "Mommy, how come you're smiling?"

Portland is a friendly place, however. Oh, there are exceptions, but mostly the people you meet at the grocery store or even the gas station have genuine smiles on their faces. When these strangers say, "Have a nice day," I should smile back. Apparently, I don't.

So I'm going to practice smiling more. I'll start with facial exercises in the morning ("corners up, corners down"), head to the library for a funny book (any recommendations?) and watch Tina Fey playing Sarah Palin on "Saturday Night Live" (again).

And I'll remember this quote from comedienne Phyllis Diller:

A smile is a curve that sets everything straight.

Excessively clingy behavior in preschoolers?

Do you ever feel like your child is so clingy, that they are approximating stalker behavior? I confess, I sometimes do. My kids will bicker over who gets to sit next to me at every meal. They follow me around the house. My older daughter is entirely normal about these things now, but she was quite a challenge as an infant and toddler. It was so hard to leave her with a sitter that after several attempts, we pretty much didn't. The good news was that she grew out of it. My younger daughter started out the opposite. Happy as a clam to be left from the get-go. Now, her clingy-ness comes in waves. It surprises me since I am the stay-at-home parent. I'm with her for quality time each and every day. Yes, there are times when I'm doing my thing, and she's doing hers. But this really throws me for a loop, since it seems like a regression in behavior, and I sometimes wonder if it's manipulative. Are 4-year-olds even developmentally capable of manipulative behavior? I've talked to other moms who've got similar issues with their kids. I think it would all fall within the realms of normal. But knowing that sure doesn't make it any easier when my little clingy stalker comes out "to play." I can assure you that I've never seriously considered taking out a restraining order.

Letting an older child stay home alone

My 9-year-old has just started staying home by himself for short periods of time.

The decision to allow this didn't come easily. We live in a safe neighborhood and he generally has good judgment. But I still think of him as a small kid and I watch entirely too much scary TV news. Leaving him at home by himself felt irresponsible, even though he is about the age when it is considered appropriate.

Before his first home-alone experience, we had him take a Red Cross class called, "When I'm in Charge." It covers personal safety and first aid issues, how to correctly answer the door and phone, and gun and internet safety. It was a good class that involved a lot of role playing and went over written materials that were easy to follow. The class is designed for kids 8 to 11 years old.

The first opportunity for staying home alone presented itself on an afternoon when my daughter had soccer. My son didn't feel like coming along, and since it was just for an hour and I would be only five minutes away, I agreed he could stay home. But not before we pulled out the Red Cross book, went over key points (know my cell phone number, dad's cell phone number and 911) and agreed on a phone strategy (he could answer when he heard my voice on the answering machine).

Since then, he's been home alone a couple of times. He usually calls me a few times, which is fine, and all in all it's working out. I am a natural worrywart, so we are going to continue on this path with baby steps. But it is definitely a good thing that he's learning responsibility and gaining confidence in his own judgment and abilities.

What is your experience with leaving a child home alone? At what age do you feel it is appropriate? When would you allow your child to carry a house key?

Talk to me, please...

I'm loathe to admit it, but I think all those loud concerts I attended as a young person have permanently damaged my hearing. Or else it was too many hours listening to blaring music on my Walkman as I trudged across campus as a college student. I don't plan to get that hearing aid yet. But Houston, we have a problem. Here's the scenario:

Child 1 is upstairs yelling down from her bedroom to me in the kitchen something like "Mom, I can't find my shoes!"

Child 2 is in the basement yelling at me in the home office going "Is today my preschool day?"

Exasperated hard-of-hearing mom is going: "Your WHAT hurts? No! You can't have candy for breakfast."

We are clearly not communicating. Just making noise. The new rule in the house is you have to be looking at a person's face (namely mine) before you start speaking. If they are yelling from the nether-regions of the house, I am resolved to ignore them until they come find me. I'm quite good at this. I hope to avoid getting the hearing aid as long as possible. Wish me luck.

Easing the nighttime scaries

"Mom, I'm afraid in my room. I can't go to sleep because I keep thinking about monsters and robbers."

We're hearing this more and more around our house, mostly from the almost-seven-year old. When I talk to my daughter about what is scaring her, she mentions Captain Hook, Monsters Inc., and the guys who broke into my brother and sister-in-law's house and stole all their stuff. Ah. All things we parents-of-the-year have exposed our kids to.

So the damage is done, the images are firmly fixed in their brains. Now what? Before bed, we talk about movies and how they aren't real. We talk about the silliness of monsters. We talk about our house and how safe and snug we are within it. One day I asked my daughter to draw a bunch of silly pictures from a silly movie that she loves, and we hung them next to her bed under the night light (which is positioned at eye-level). When she starts feeling scared, she rolls over and looks at the pictures to get her mind off the scary images. It seems to be working, but sometimes not.

I'm sure this is something they will grow out of eventually (though I sometimes get freaked out by rogue noises in the night -- I do keep it to myself, however) but I just feel awful about them feeling scared. And all of us sharing a bed is NOT a solution. Grown-ups need sleep, too. How do you handle scared kids at night? What do you tell them? I wonder if I could do it all over again whether I would cut out those movies and limit them to Dora and Bob the Builder. Any insight, moms?

Road rage: adults making bad decisions (then making up for it with good ones)

I had a rather interesting day Monday. Around noon, I pulled out of my driveway to pick up my 4-year-old from preschool, and ended up right behind a big dump truck that was leaving my neighbor's house (they are doing some major landscaping). We live on one of those twisty and narrow streets that SW Portland is known for. When we got to the first tight turn of our street, the truck stopped, and a Porsche buzzed quickly past the truck on the left. Then seconds later an SUV came from behind the truck on the right. Meanwhile, I'm behind the truck wondering if perhaps I should turn around and drive out of my neighborhood the other way. This kind of thing happens on a regular basis, and I didn't want to be late picking up my daughter from school. Mid-ponder, the truck starts backing up toward me, and with horror I realize I may have stopped exactly in the truck's blind spot. My heart leaped into my throat and all I could think to do as my life flashed before my eyes was to lay on the horn -- if he couldn't see me at least he would hear me! I must have honked the horn several times as the truck backed up. Finally the truck stopped -- without hitting me. I breathed a sigh of relief only to be interrupted by the truck driver sticking his head out the car window and yelling at me: "I'm not going to hit you, STUPID! I can see you, you IDIOT!"

Next thing you know, I am experiencing a rage like I've never felt. I'm looking in the seat next to me to see if there's anything I can throw at this neanderthal -- something substantial, like a brick. Alas, there was nothing. I confess, I found my voice and met his "stupid" with a few of my own. Next I decide I'm going to drive back home, beat my neighbor's door down and give her a piece of my mind. I drive back to her house, but by then, I realize I'd better just calm down and drive to school to pick up my little girl. I turn around, drive back down the street, and of course, get the pleasure of following the dump truck out of my neighborhood.

Back at home, I did calm down and call my neighbor. I considered waiting until my daughter was out of earshot before making the call, but then realized it would be a good teaching moment, as it seems I'm always talking about kids making bad decisions and here was an example of an adult making a bad decision and me having to deal with all sorts of emotions: anger, frustration, hurt feelings, etc. My neighbor was apologetic and said she'd speak to her contractor about it immediately. Their landscape architect visited my home later that evening to personally apologize, and said he was tracking down the individual who yelled at me and said it would never happen again. He also gave me a lovely potted impatiens as a peace offering.

What is it about driving that brings out the road rage in all of us? Should I have been happy that he didn't call me an "asshole" or something worse. What would you have done?

Moving at the speed of mom

It's summer and I so love not having a schedule. Except for martial arts (my son) and gymnastics (my daughter), most days we're meeting up with friends, heading to the pool or just hanging out at home.

Then why is it that I'm still rushing the kids out of the house, losing my cool when they don't buckle up fast enough in the car and pushing them to get dressed or brush teeth or eat breakfast?

It's me, I know. I hate being late or keeping others waiting. Usually we arrive at destinations early, after I've prodded everyone to get going. When I see people who are always in a rush, I think it must be because they're unorganized and chronically late. But I'm quite organized and hardly ever late, and I still seem to be rushing around a lot.

The other day, my daughter looked at me with a furrowed brow and said, "Mommy, why are we in such a rush?"

We were heading to the playground. Why was I in such a rush?

Obviously, it's time to slow down. Before I know it, school will be starting and it'll be time to pick up the pace on a daily basis. So I've decided that, when I feel myself about to utter the word "hurry," I'm going to count to 10 (to myself) and squelch the urge. You've heard of the Slow Food movement? I'm starting the Slow Mom movement. Does anybody care to join me, or are you already moving at the recommended speed limit?