We know as parents that there will be late nights, worried phone calls, extensive and often stressful “discussions” as a family and lots of lessons to impart. The truth is, these “lessons” or “Come To Jesus” meetings in my house (forgive me) are often the breeding grounds for fantastic conversations. We all know that conversations around the dinner table and camp fire often become the stepping stones to learning more about the lives our children lead….but how often do we really give credit for the lesson they teach us?

My daughter is patient, wise and only 7. Her busy life often involves a lot of emotions, a lot of personalities (hello girls! We all travel in packs, right?) – and, let’s not forget,  a lot of heart to hearts. Sometimes I watch as the girls take turns quite literally turning on each other. Whoever is “in” at this moment may very well be on the receiving end of the self-manipulated tough love session the next. It is brutal and sometimes cut throat but watching how our wee ones react and challenge themselves and their friendships is often very telling.

Resist The Urge

Sometimes, when we see these interactions we want and almost have an uncontrollable urge to get in the mix too. This is a mistake, though, admittedly, one that I have a hard time with too. Watching our girls stalk off with tears when we saw –  flat out SAW –  someone they loved be cruel or biting or just plain mean is hard. Watching our girls (or boys, face it, their social structures are easily just as complicated, maybe more so) go through that is brutal. But, if we sit back, we may see something we can learn from. Grace, humility, love – maybe anger, frustration, hurt – maybe all of the above – but how these mini-me’s choose to handle these emotions and actions is telling. Do they turn on a weaker child and take out these feeling on them, perpetuating the cycle? Do they lash out at their aggressors? Do they quietly wait till the sea of emotions ebbs? How would YOU deal with them? How did you when you were smaller? How do you now? All these things are introverted lessons that we must intrinsically understand and develop ways to grow from. Even when we are old (or older) Mommy’s who really just want everything to be as pleasant as possible. These real life nitty gritty events are the stuff that makes us who we are, and how we deal with them will be a little glimpse into whom we are becoming.

The Bigger Picture

There is a bigger picture at play than just whatever Elementary school or neighborhood playgroup social dynamics we find our children in. Understanding the route to kindness and willingness to exert kindness towards others is the bigger picture we strive for.

Reciprocity

Last but not least, the recurring theme of the day: Reciprocity. Understanding thet friendship – real friendship – is a give and take and should, in the best circumstances, leave both parties feeling good and wanting to return. If, over and over, you are hurt, sad, let down or just plain frustrated every time you get together with someone, maybe it is time for a civil break or retreat. The hamsters on the spinning wheel that keep you running all day have enough stress – don’t make them deal with that too! J Evaluate the time you spend, you have limited amounts of it, and stop throwing your children (or yourself) into the lion’s den for the sake of a playdate. Cultivate relationships that work! Your example will help you AND your children live better!

Parenthood is a long ride but sometimes the short stops take your breath away. You remember how we HATED it when our parents said stupid stuff like, “Wow, just yesterday you were a baby, now look at you! You are growing so FAST!” and all we could think was not fast enough…suddenly when you ARE a parent, these moments stop you short and make you wonder how the space time continuum works. I mean honestly, one minute you are holding a baby in your arms, the next blink they are off to Kindergarten and within a second they ask you if the Tooth Fairy is real. Wow.

My son, who is now 9, is a bit of a dreamer. He can make up elaborate fantastic stories and will work with us on what I call “the game”. The Game is the parental involvement in things spectacular and high end fantasy. Santa, the Tooth Fairy, the Easter Bunny – these are in this realm. Patrick loves it, listens intently even still and even when a friend in our ‘hood flat out told him Santa wasn’t real, he defended the big man in red’s honor. He likes The Game.

My daughter, now 6 (almost 7!), on the other hand is way more pragmatic. When asked if her dolls enjoyed the positions she would leave them in before bed, strewn about the room, she said, “Mom, they are just dolls! They don’t feel anything – they are not real.” Our son, Patrick, would cry if they went in the dryer for cleaning, worried they were sad or scared. Our daughter, Rileyanne, lives on the opposite end of the reality spectrum.  Meh. She took in on the chin. I knew The Game would be a hard sell…I did not think she would test it or flat out ask on the first night of the Tooth Fairy, but that is what she did.

Yesterday she lost her very first tooth. It actually was a tough day, for the first time she was too tall to go in a play room at the Science Museum she has always loved. Then her tooth fell out and she wrote a note to the tooth fairy to ask to keep it, as it was, after all, her FAVORITE tooth. When we returned, in my most regal print, resplendent with lots of swirls and such, a script I reserve for the T.F., Santa and the Easter Bunny, I wrote that the T.F. would not take a tooth without permission, but would not leave a prize until she was given the tooth for her palace.  Dear old T.F. said she would return today and see if the tooth was ready for her to take. Rileyanne woke up in tears, and after some crying, knowing she could not keep her “favorite” tooth and still get a prize from the tooth fairy she flat out asked.

In her little girl accent, accentuated by the now missing tooth up front, she popped me with a question as I walked in the kitchen making breakfast and school lunches.

“Mom, is the Toof Fairy really real or is it you and Daddy just trying to keep a story going. I want to know. Give it to me straight.”

Wow. I think I cried a little when I turned and wondered what to say without shattering her make believe (which admittedly, since she was asking is already a done deal, I am holding on a little longer – selfish but whatever I hadn’t even had a coffee yet! Tearing down the walls of fantasy was not part of my morning plans!). I wiped up my almost falling tears, gave her a little hug remarking silently that this was my last with a still believing little girl and took a breath.

“I will not lie to you. Magic is a special thing. Sometimes it needs help from us to keep it alive. Part of the deal to keep a game going or to play in the land of make believe is that you have to choose to believe. Once you choose not to, well then that magic, whatever it is, is over for you. You can still see it, sometimes, in other people’s games, but yours is over and a new one starts.” I know I know it was a passive aggressive way around the whole truth but my husband and I hadn’t discussed how we would tell her because, well, I thought we had a little while longer! Classically unprepared, she sorta shrugged. I knew I let her down, she wanted a big reveal.

Our son went into a long story about how he flat out KNOWS that the T.F. is real as his friends have launched a major investigation. They have discovered that sometimes these magic guys, as he calls them, require parents help, but it is a volunteer position within their corporations and we are only temporary hires. Love that boy. Riley was not at all convinced by his heartfelt rationalization and sorta rolled her eyes and went in for the kill as her father, brother and I sat with her trying to help her through this new truth investigation.

“Mommy, did you just sit in the corner of my room and write the note yourself?” Well..no, actually I sat in my bed and wrote it…having promised not to lie I said that I had not sat in her room to write the note. Then she got a little excited…”You mean, I got the QUEEN of the tooth fairies? She said she needed my tooth for HER palace! Oh man, score!” But we knew – we both knew – her game was ending and fast. She has already started making elaborate plans for her grown up life, which she plans to live in Paris as a fashion designer eating croissants every morning and speaking only French every day.  She is VERY clear that this life will happen without any parents living nearby (though she will Skype every day) and will require a daily trip to the Louvre and perhaps a trip to her Appaloosa horse stable in the morning for a ride. Yes, her princess dreams, her fairy tales, her suspension of reality is ending fast,; though even I must admit her real life fantasy is pretty spectacular – no small dreams for her, even if they are reality based.

We raise them to become these people. We raise them to learn to ask for truth, to seek it and live in it….but when that day comes, which for me it has this morning, when your youngest child reads between the lines and sees behind the curtain….on that day it hits you a little harder than usual and requires a few extra little tears while you proudly realize that your wee one is a truth seeker. This is an admirable trait. And just like that….breath will leave your chest and you will sing Puff The Magic Dragon a few extra times and tears you did not know you needed to shed will fall. Get some extra coffee…this is a long morning. At least, for me, the sun is out…which if you truly need to ask, I believe is a small miracle present from my own make believe days. Like a light turned on. Once it reaches the corners, nothing hides. I still hope, a little, that she leaves that tooth. Somehow, my little $1 gift hardly seems enough.

I must be doing something right. No really. While talking with a friend, she noticed that my son was very attentively listening while she was talking. I explained it was her thick Irish accent. “Mommy talks like a leprechaun when she gets tired, or hungry or did not have her coffee” he explained while I rolled my eyes. Tis true, but no need to advertise. But it made her curious. She asked what he meant and I told her. We laughed so hard I thought it might translate here too, so here goes.

Women….according to my son. “Mommy, there is really no mystery to women,” my now 9 year old will tell me often. “Here’s the deal: 1. Never go to a girls house without flowers. 2. Always say she looks pretty and smells nice, even if she smells like coffee, because it will make her smile. 3. If she is in a bad mood, give her coffee or chocolate or both. 4. Always play with the girls because they are usually smarter than you anyway. 5. Never be afraid to talk to a girl, they usually have lots to say, even if you don’t.”

Wisdom…from a 9 year old…and there you have it. If I have a frown on, my son will ask, “Mommy, have you had your coffee yet?” and if I say no, I kid you not, since we have a special single server coffee contraption thingy, he will make it for me! Seriously! My husband doesn’t even do that. I overheard him one morning talking with his 6 year old sister in the kitchen….”Riley, here’s the deal, when Mom sees the living room is messy, she won’t like it. Here’s what you do, make her a cup of this stinky stuff because she likes it and then go clean up and you are covered. Don’t worry, I have this wired”

Oh…my…God…I would be mad if it were not absolutely true! He DOES have me wired…and now so does she…and I am a happy, caffeinated mommy! J If you think these mini-me’s we are raising don’t know the real deal score of things, be not confused…they absolutely do!

When asked if he likes girls though he gets all crinkly like any 9 year old worth his salt and says, “Mommy, you know I have many friends who are girls, but I don’t like that kissy stuff. Its gross, and scary and makes you feel icky. Why is this a big deal anyway? Smiles are better and no one has to feel weird.” Amen, little dude, amen.

Take The Long Way Home

 Start singing with me… “Take the long way home…oooh yeah…take the long way home…” (Supertramp Rocks)

When I was a child, in the days that the dinosaurs roamed (ok not really) I walked to and from school every day. I started at Kindergarten and the walk seemed to take forever then. Somewhere in my memory I remember singing that song from the 70’s genius called Supertramp and I swear I think I sung it every time I walked.  Things as a latch key kid in the inner city were not always the pristine suburb I live in now with my own children. I was alone and scared. I disliked being alone and often got into trouble because of it. Which is why, it may surprise you as you read this, to know that today I did something very scary to me and am proud I did it. Controversy be damned, I let my 9 year old walk to school…gasp…alone.

He has been asking for some time to allow him this privilege. A few friends do this and we live less than ½ a mile from the school. I imagine my 9 year old felt very big this morning as he ventured off and did this alone. It may not seem monumental to everyone, but to me it was a white knuckle experience and I am proud of us both.

This morning, the sun was peeking in through the clouds, and my son asked for the millionth time if he could walk alone. This is a big deal as he has been the unfortunate recipient of some school bullying (pushing, bloody nose, name calling) that resulted in his hiding in the library for a while to avoid playground time. We have worked through that, he is now self-aware enough to no longer hide and talks about his day every day, so it was a step I was reluctant to take but one he wanted desperately – to be respected enough and trusted enough to walk to school alone. I was not far behind him, and in fact checked on him in his classroom afterwards to give him a high five and tell him I was proud. He beamed and I realized it was a good thing.

Some parents cry over these big steps, I am celebrating. My son, aware of his surroundings, wanted to be trusted and responsible and learn what it felt like to be capable. I am not raising a boy, I am raising a man, and so, releasing him I felt ready for that. Some will disagree, and I get that, I do, but to me, this was an inevitable collision of his boyhood baby days and his new found intellectual and physical capabilities – he is, like it or not, growing into a responsible man and capable to walk ½ a mile unescorted. Wow.

We discussed yesterday the fact that he will be going on a field trip this week and as he has been a bullied child, what does that look like. How would he like me to engage his teacher? Would he like me to ask her to watch him or be sure not to place him with his friend who likes to sometimes be less than kind? The discussion was simple, do we or don’t we, but the response was a surprise of maturity that humbled me. “Mom, I have to simply be aware of my own surroundings and capable to see what is happening for myself. You can’t always be there. I am ready for this.” Whoa. We have been talking a lot about fear and how if we allow it to motivate us our decisions will not be as clear headed as they would if we operated from a state of awareness. It seems to be paying off!

Will this be a normal practice? I dont know but not likely. I rather cherish these times with my kids and frankly would rather he walk in a group – but knowing he CAN and HAS accomplished this? It’s a pretty huge deal around here. Not just because popular opinion dictates that this independant stuff is a tad taboo, but also because the act itself was just a huge deal. We took a kid scared to play on the playground a month ago to a kid empowered to walk by himself and trust his abilities! Whoa.

Several of my son’s friends were surprised he was allowed to go by himself. He stood tall and said, not knowing I heard it, “My Mom trusts me. I know I can trust me too”. I did almost cry at that. I don’t cry over the growing up, I miss the younger child some days, but the adults these children we have watched all their lives seem likely to be magnificent people I will enjoy knowing! So where did I get this new attitude? Element 5 Fitness in Kirkland, Wa. (yep, here’s the plug – that’s how strongly I believe in the people here!)

http://element5fitness.com/

At this amazing no frills gym, there are two men (and many other very admirable trainers and committed athletes alike) named Belton and Romel. Belton Lubas is my son’s Brazilian Ju Jitsu teacher. I went to him after my son started getting pushed down, hit and stress induced (and once a fist induced) nose bleed that all culminated in his inevitable hiding out in the library. Belton was starting a child friendly ju jitsu class and offered to take my children in. They have been going for a while now and Patrick, in that time, has stopped hiding, has used phrases like, “I must trust myself and believe I can” as opposed to wondering about his abilities. A revolution of sorts, these classes have become much more than self-defense driven exercises, they have become physical tests of mental awareness and coordination. They have become enriching and empowering and revolutions of new thought. I am forever thankful.

I get, because I myself am afforded the ability to be a pacifist that Ju Jitsu may not be other people’s first choice, and that is cool – but for us, it has been a real life saver. One must know who one is and who they are not – my son must realize he is capable, empowered and trusted by actually being those things. If that can be accomplished in a ½ mile walk to school in an admittedly reasonably safe neighborhood, well, then that is what you do. Get the coffee pot ready because I am gonna need a cup as he walks out that door and trods off alone so small…but not helpless.  

The thing about life is, there are always new ways to test yourself. If you spend the days clinging to the past, to the misconception that you can protect every loved one from everything they may experience that is negative, and delude yourself into thinking that there is no way to face fear, well you have already lost. Today, my son showed me that he can rise above fear and look it in the eye and walk anyway. If that is not a ringing endorsement for a program that has turned a revolutionary door in my son’s personal perception of himself, I don’t know what is. He misses the librarian, she is a lovely lady, but he no longer shrinks away from experiences and is engaging actively in positive self-talk.

If you are on the Eastside, I cannot recommend Element 5 fitness and Belton’s Ju Jitsu classes enough. I knew Belton and Rommel Acda from my own struggles with strength training, so I knew they could help us. What they actually did was give us a gift. All of us. A lot was riding on that long walk today – I think I may just be listening to Supertramp again, only not feeling as alone as I once did. What a wonderful book end! Thank you, Element 5 Fitness and Belton Lubas!

Science Skills

Excited children around the country are entering a phase known to parents as Science Night Mania. From Maine to California and everywhere in between, soda pop experiments, rocket launches, and mold experiments are occurring in and around households as frazzled moms try to keep it as clean and safe as possible. If you are like me, and your school contemplated cancelling Science Fair Night, and you ran to save it and are now neck deep in experiments, questions from anxious parents and teachers who don’t understand the parameters of a tri-fold poster format, welcome to my world! It’s fun here at least – and my children, thanks to giving up Soda for lent, have kept me very entertained with their experiments thus far!

Where Do You Go To Find Ideas?

Many students and parents have an idea and run with it. My son, for example, being 9 was solely concerned with blowing things up. Forget the hypothesis; he wanted to see stuff explode. Usually I let him explore more heady topics, but I have to admit, the inner child in me could not WAIT for the Mentos and Soda experiment to be underway – rain coats and candy and soda AND explosions?!?!?! All right! But where do you go if you have no Earthly idea where to get an idea, you are under the gun and your kid is just not interested in the fact that cheese will grow mold if it is allowed to. I know, gross, but there are lots of those.

One site I have been directing many families to is this one: http://chemistry.about.com/od/sciencefairprojects/a/sciproelem.htm It has a fairly easy to follow data base and lists a lot of ideas. Another I recommend is this: http://www.science-ideas.com/elementary-projects.htm as it lists ideas in grade level appropriate and sophistication levels. But I urge you, never be afraid of the kid who asks to test their hypothesis about blood splatter and gravity. Sure, it’s a little weird…but awesome! (yes, I had a mom come and ask me if that would fly – as long as the blood is dry, yep, but as it turns out they will be using fake blood…what did no one wanted to volunteer for donating to this brilliant “Dexter-esque” kids’ cause?!?!?! LOL)

The main thing is testing a hypothesis, understanding the while “will something explode” is a good start, and ure, it’s cool and all, but it is not scientific on its own. That said, I cant wait to see how many explosive options we get submitted…what is it about explosions that is so wicked cool?

Why I May Freak People Out

OK I admit it. I am a geek. I am a freak flag flying geeky mom who is about to enjoy the heck out of the Science Fair. Sure, my internal monologue will run crazy asking insane questions and giggling at some answers, but outwardly I will be the whacky “Oh My God” Mom in the glow stick necklace giving out certificates and thanking the students for participating. Don’t get me wrong, there will be plenty of opportunity to get giggly with all the submissions, but the main thing is….how shall I say this…on my gut level I am 12. OK, maybe 10. I like the goo, the glow, the explosions and the questions – I want these kids to be able to articulate why they asked what they asked and how they were proven right or wrong and what they would do differently if they had to do it over…and I want to see something explode. There I admitted it. Explosions are cool, dude. Seriously.

The Importance Of Date Night

Ok I said it. It is important. We all know why too – the kids – love them as much as we do, they do find a way of zapping every romantic chromosome right out of your body, right? Is it just me, or does somehow being tethered to a little one just make me feel UBER un-sexy? I can’t really be the only one, right?

Still…with camps coming hard and fast, sports, religious commitments, school, friends, pets, bills, and everything else it is a wonder we have time to eat together at the family table much less hire a sitter. But, hire we must or else we become THAT couple. You’ve seen that couple, the one that can finish each other’s (and their children’s) sentences and are uber efficient but look more like a competitive wrestling team from some Eastern European country ready to take on whatever next challenge like in parenthood throws at them. Not really lovey dovey or even affectionate, they are efficient, motivated and capable, but they seem disconnected.

When Did A Movie Date Cost A Car Payment?

Life before kids – remember that? When you could spend all day at a movie theatre, even hop from theatre to theatre to see all the new releases in a day if you wanted to, filling up on popcorn and soda and holding hands till your eyes glossed over. I do. I remember walking casually to a theatre after a lovely morning of fresh bagels and then strolling along the beach and kicking sand or swimming and kissing, longingly, for hours, because there was no rush to get home. Now it is like a blood sport! Hire the sitter, book the table at the dinner place (if you are so bold as to squeeze both in) and get the tickets – one movie could cost more than $120 before you are done and by the time you get home, and the kids are hopefully asleep, if you had even one drink, you are so tired there is NO WAY you are getting close to anything but the snooze button. Forget the walks on the beach, the lazy afternoons and the bagels – you must race to get it in under the $150 line!

How do we make time? How do we show our spouse or partner that they are THE BOMB and we would love to play hookie all the time if we could together? How do we make the nookie more than just the pacifier that your baby uses and return to the sultry happy blissful days of closeness?

Rose Colored Glasses Are For Rookies

First – put it in perspective. If you have the resources to get a sitter for longer, do, otherwise, find a friend to swap sleep over dates or dinner nights once a month and capitalize on a good thing. If the kids are gone, rent a movie and make dinner at home or order in! Whatever you do, remember to connect. It is so easy to lose yourself in the shuffle and kerfuffle of the daily grind!

Personal side note: Sometimes, life in the fast lane of family life takes me through the ringer. I KNOW that if my personal gas tank falls below the ¼ fill line, if any stress hits my radar, I will blow a gasket and there is nothing else to do but watch out. There, I said it; I can be downright volatile when I am running on empty. Who can’t? But one thing I KNOW saves me is when I hold my husband’s hand. It sounds trite and silly, but it is necessary – even if it is on the couch zoned out to whatever the TV has to offer once the kids go to bed and we are zonkered out on the ramblings of the week – date night needn’t be a full on blood sport – sometimes holding hands on the couch is all you got – so make it count! Reconnect, and soon you will find new ways to make it work…with or without the sitter!

While I was raised in the San Fernando Valley and Los Angeles, CA. I have moved to a Seattle suburb with my brilliant husband to raise a family. I knew, because I married a brilliantly smart and quick witted man (that was no accident, hey we all have a type!) that our children would be smart. I did not realize that they would out smart even me by the time they were exiting toddlerhood (Patrick) or First Grade (Rileyanne) but they have done just that. Admittedly, my son, he blew past me at age three when he petitioned on his own, to have his preschool start counting at zero instead of the number one. He did this  because, as he said, “Without zero, you can’t have nebative numbers”…nebative was how he said the word negative. I remember that moment well. I was washing dishes and had to stop and remember to breathe and not be intimidated that my three year old just whomped my butt – I don’t think I understood the number line till I was 13 for heaven sake! It got better…or worse…as time went on, but I have remained proud, if slightly intimidated.

SCIENCE DAY!!

Today, on our drive to school through the rain swept residential streets, my daughter piped up in the back seat, “Oh YES! Today is THURSDAY!!! I just remembered we get to do something awesome and fun today! Rock on!”  She said this; I kid you not; while making an air guitar in her car seat while I smiled in the rear view mirror. She is 6 years old. I asked what that something “fun” was, assuming she was talking about the spirit day they are having tomorrow in which they wear pajamas all day and bring in their favorite bedtime book, or a birthday, or recess, or some other “fun” thing I remember from 1^st grade. “Mom, today is Thursday right? That means its Science Day! We get to even have a test and everything! A REAL test! IN SCIENCE! Can you believe it? This is gonna so rock!” And there I was again, only now I am driving and I can’t just stop and breathe or science day will not be as fun. My wee girl, all excited for a test!

Perspective

When we were kids, do you remember anyone who was excited about a test? I sure don’t. Tests were scary, intimidating and nerve wracking. Who wanted one? In fact, I remember some of my hippie friends (who I still love by the way) saying that tests were a way of manipulating us to feel badly about ourselves and they abstained from them on moral ground. It only worked once, usually, but the argument always stuck with me. Yet, here is my wee 6 year old, super excited to see how much she knows and challenge herself in her favorite subject so far, Science. I often talk about how attitude and perception is everything – if you think about it – her attitude toward taking a test in Science is so on the money! Why see it as a way of showing you that you are less then, why not look at it to see how much you know and be excited to learn that about yourself? Whoa. Heavy stuff. If we, as teens, had that attitude, how much farther would we have gotten? How many days thinking negatively about ourselves could we have avoided? I need to put a pin in this morning and remind her every day that she has this inner light, because it is radiant and wonderful and well, just so rocking right on!

Reality Hip Check

Still on my “Mommy High” I challenge you to ask your children what it is that they avoid at school and why and see if there is a way to turn it into a challenge to look forward to. If we all do this, think how much more productive our days would be….and how much we would reduce that inner negative chatter we love to hit ourselves in the head with…Happy Positive Spin Day to you!

Lord Of The Flies

 The hype – oh the hype! Last year it was Twilight, which, thanks to having a 5 year old girl at the time, I managed to avoid in the catalogues of parenting debates. But this year, The Hunger Games has hit fast, hard and brutally. My son, age 9, was ALL in. Why? Well, first, many of his friends (and a few cousins) had already read it and were all excited to talk about it and he felt left out. Second, in an unsolicited and brilliant move on his part, he asked, “Mom, reading is important, and shouldn’t all books be given a chance before you nix them?” Huh… well I still reserve the right to avoid reading you explicit stories but why this one I ask, when he goes in for the kill, and his last (and effectively brilliant) line of defense, “Mom, you say it is written for preteens, well I AM a pre – which means before – teen, that’s me now, and shouldn’t I have a say in what is or is not too much for me? Let’s read it together and that way you will see I can handle it.” Wow. Effective. Succinct. Brilliant. In a word, he won.

So, opening weekend was last week. I am not stupid…stop laughing….I can hear you from here! Stop. We did NOT go last weekend, we read instead. Seriously, and thoughtfully and snuggled on a couch, my lad and I read it together. I know this will be among my favorite memories with him, even if, when my friends suggested the book I turned them down flat because it sounded too barbaric to contemplate. His now 6 year old sister was not allowed in the room, she read her beloved Charlotte’s Web with her father, upstairs, behind a closed door…cause you know, death was too much for her….not that there is any death or adult messages in Charlotte’s Web, right? The full weight of his last argument hit me kinda hard. As much as I wish I could influence him to abhor violence, he is his own beast. He does not like violence, but in our discussions, I learned he lives in it every day regardless of my best intentions or efforts.

Every day he is faced with bullies (one in particular has been especially hard on him lately) and every day he sees the news. On Sunday’s he reads the paper with me too, this is new, ever since he saw an article about a scientist who found and studied rock from another planet – now he loves Sunday paper mornings and brings bits of it throughout the week with us as we go from this or that and he has reading time – he sits and reads the paper! He is 9! Whoa. When you least expect it, they grow up into real people on you. I remember when watching The Grinch was too much for him, and now, he is examining (and I might add brilliantly commentating) on very real socio and political aspects to a fiction novel and a Times newspaper with skill and thoughtfulness that I did not know he had. I am learning too.

After we finished the book, it was time to read the reviews of the movie which now has a PG-13 rating. In Brittan, there is a controversy over the violent nature of the film that the US is jumping in on as well. On the website http://www.kidsinmind.com/ the movie is broken down into minutia that will make your head spin. But I diligently looked at all that and wondered, “Is anyone bringing their kids to this?” I was sure that many in my own ‘hood were, but when I posted on Facebook, asking my friends from school, college, parenthood and beyond years if they were doing this some of the responses surprised me. Was I crazy to be contemplating bringing my now 9 year old to see a movie he knows the story to since we read it? The responses varied from “You are BAT SHIT CRAZY!” to, “meh, no big deal, I took my little one and they did not explode” and everything between. SO I asked my husband, who admittedly has a far cooler head than I do in most cases, at the dinner table where my son could hear us discuss this. Why? Because the decision involved him and he already proved that his maturity level was well above what I had thought.

Family Decisions – tricky times at the dinner table!

“Ratings are not to deny passage to anyone but to warn parents that there is something to be considered – have you considered the adverse quality of this film?” My brilliant husband offered as we politely ate our dinner (which he also prepared – I am one lucky mama!). My answer, of course, was yes – I have been reading blogs, I have looked up the rating system, I have been reading the opinions of child experts in movie reviews and I offered up a “hey, have you seen it yet?” to friends I respected. Yes, I am still investigating, but the rating did what he just explained it should – it made me consider before buying the ticket – if this was appropriate for my son. As a family, we were now discussing it.

“Mom, remember Collin and I read it at the same time so we could go over break!” Patrick interjected, worried he was losing the battle – which he wasn’t really, but he was right to know that there was a possibility. “We don’t do things just because our friends do, right?” I asked. He slumped. Sure he was losing, and then, again, brilliance… “But Mom, all those reviews, all the ratings, everything you are talking about, they were written by other people….shouldn’t my mind and yours be made by us?” My wee 9 year old lad responded. Oh Dear God, he has my number – I had better switch my game or he will own my butt this time next week!

Point taken. Once, the book Lord Of The Flies was considered too controversial for children, yet now is considered among literature and classroom texts as a standard in classical reading. (for a review try this one: http://classiclit.about.com/od/lordoftheflieswg ) Similar in the adults not present and children run amuck, I read it when I was 13 years old myself. Would I be averse to his reading it? Nope. What about Tom Sawyer or Watership Down books I DID read when I was his age…would I deny him that? Keep in mind, my Mom is an actor, and as such, the arts have always been open to me – naked, brutal honesty, wart, farts and all. Was that wrong? Didn’t I agree that censorship was evil? Why was I contributing to it? My head was now, officially, spinning.

I had to admit – somewhere between being raised inner city in LA and becoming a stay at home mom in the suburbs of Seattle, I started to worry that “protecting” my son meant denying him some of the things I worried would corrupt him. Interesting. Am I a book burner? Nope. So why and I so worried about this book? We read it, was he scarred for life? Nope. In fact, there were aspects he handled even better than I did – but wasn’t the movie much more intrusive and up close? I mean reading about gore and violence is different than seeing it, right?

What To Do

Faced with controversy, we parents, live in a world where we make decisions every day that will be unpopular to someone. Sometimes it is unpopular with our children, “No, we can’t have chocolate for breakfast, or buy a pony and keep it in the garage, or fly to Disneyland on a whim”. Sometimes it is with our neighbors, our friends, our colleagues or even our own parents. It is safe to say, on any given day, we all make decisions that negatively impact someone, but make them we must, and this was no different. So…what to do? Again, my boy, brilliant and savvy, had a great idea, “Mom, remember how, even though I read Harry Potter, you were not sure I should see the movie? Then, you and Dad saw it, you talked to me about it, and we went together, and it wasn’t that bad at all? What if you do that again? You and Dad see it first and decide. But really, how will you KNOW it is too much until you SEE it yourself?” And so it was. My husband and I, having a date night planned, will see it first. Harry, brilliant as his son (gee, I wonder where the boy gets it?) even piped in with, “Hey that’s a great idea! That way, I can watch the younger ones while the kids who have read it can go see the movie!” How can I deny that logic?

Independent Thinking Rules

Thus, I have a date night. I have a brilliant and independent thinking, articulate and seriously talented negotiating son who is proving every day that he is growing up whether I like it or not. I have a family who sits at a dinner table and decides its plan thoughtfully together. Like it or not, this Hunger Games stuff really showed me that I have, under my very own roof, all that I have ever hoped for. When my friends said I should read the book, I thought they were mad. I don’t like violence, I don’t like children in danger and I don’t like apocalyptic thrillers….turns out they were right to suggest it but for reasons I had no idea were about to become relevant to me. Oh…and as it also turns out…I DO like some apocalyptic thrillers and while I still dislike violence, I DO like a tale about an independent, thoughtful, kick butt hero who, in the end, stands up for the right reasons…it has been quite a week. Now…on for date night? You bet!

Good idea. Right? No brainer, right? There we were, my husband and I, after working for months on the swim spa located inside our back deck, having spent a lot (but less than replacing the beast) to fix it after a two year broken spell, hearing a steady “WHOMF!” every two minutes. At first, we thought it was the TV. He had been playing Xbox and now we were watching some action packed something so the steady pound seemed like it went. Till it didn’t.  “Whomf!” What the?

See, the swim spa is sorta a thing. We bought this house, this exact house, because of this pool. Well I did anyway. I wanted a Jack & Jill bathroom, I wanted street lights and a sewer system. I wanted a soaking tub and a big kitchen.  It was this pool that convinced me that a giant cabin in the woods, without any of those things, on a septic system where bears and cougars live, was rustic and exciting and livable. This pool was just big enough to swim in, but not an entire pool – a combo if you will from the pools I remember from my previous life in Southern California and the traditional hot tub of the Pac NW. It somehow made our giant cabin in the woods less Grisly Adams and more 90210. I loved it. Harry loved making me happy but honestly did not care at all for the pool. The kids loved it. Harry loved making the kids happy, but still did not care about the pool. Fantastic. He gave in, because he LOVED the house – he loved that it had none of the things I liked (not because he did not like them too, but because the rustic feel made him happy) and the pool made it easier for me to give him his rustic cabin in the woods. Then, it broke. The pipes burst one winter, we were told to scrap the whole thing, buy a new pool and have this beast literally ripped from the house. This expense was astronomical,  more than a new car, and we couldn’t see scrapping a whole pool for what really amounted to, as far as we could see, was nothing more than a new system of  PVC pipes. We hired someone, got the pipes fixed, but it still was broken. Too long inoperable meant new stuff for the heater. OK. Every time we turned around it was something, it was an “and” or a “but”  or a “Oh we forgot”…more and more…two years of struggle…heck by now we were on a mission – it was a moral imperative to beat this albatross!  You know what I mean? “Well its fixed!” someone would tell us, as we wrote a check. Yay!  Only to find there was something yet to do, something they forgot to check, something new to order – this or that, and so one, and so on; it seemed endless. Two years of endless. Till yesterday.

Yesterday, the pool was filling, the heater was humming, the snow was melting, the birds were singing! Hooray! I got in the pool and even though it was cool, not cold, not hot, just cool, I started the arduous task of vacuuming it out. As I grappled with the hose and the new vacuum bag and watched as debris was picked up – it was cathartic – it was like I was really contributing to ending this long piece of our history in the woods. I was back baby! So what if the water coming out of the hose attached to my leg as I swept was cold, ice cold in fact, I would suck it up because in a day I would have my beautiful beast back! Whoo hoo! The kids were helping me skim, my husband worked on the lids, I swept, this was cold but it was fun. We added all the chemicals and put the kids to bed with hopes that we may actually get a small swim in before school the next day! Exciting stuff!

Then, reclined with our tea and a TV show about something or other that blows up or runs or does something that would excuse the first set of WHOMF’s goes along. Then, like the pool is flicking us in the ear, we realize it is, in fact, (say it breathless with me…like an exasperated end of the rope breathless word)The Beast. Apparently she has not yet had enough attention. WHOMF. Harry goes out and looks and sure enough I hear a “Holy crap!” from outside just as another WHOMF goes and I know. I know there is yet something else we have yet to fix.

We are not short of phone numbers by now. Call the guy that worked on it? Check. Tell him we live in a giant wooden cabin in the woods and have fire balls escaping the pool house attached to the deck, just under the kids’ rooms? Check. Now I would laugh but frankly I am a little carried away. Who wants to be thinking about fire balls when it is 11 PM and you only got one in water experience and even then it was way too cold to really enjoy? WHOMF. Ok, ok I hear you fates. Damn. I am suddenly thankful the wood on the deck is saturatedly wet thanks in part to yesterday’s snow and today’s small rain. Wet wood is harder to set a blaze right? Oh yeah, I am sleeping tonight, you bet.

Now we wait for the guy to order a possible part. While on the phone with my husband he says…unabashedly I might point out… “Oh, I forgot to check the starter.” What???? That seems ridiculous, and yet, after two years, isn’t everything ridiculous? We turn it off. All of it. Off. No more WHOMF’s no more fire balls and no more pool. At least for now. In a week the part will be here and I wonder what The Beast will do for our attention then?

Still, the advice is sound. Don’t let the kids sleep near balls of fire. Check.  We are now officially a lot less 90210 and a lot more Grisly Adams.  I hope I have enough flannel for the months ahead.  And I drift off to sleep remembering that my husband never cared for the dang pool anyway. Sometimes, life in a marriage is like that.

Too often we give children answers to remember rather than problems to solve.  ~Roger Lewin

Have you noticed yet, as your children run off to school, that very often their work is memorization? Sure, somethings must be memorized, multiplication tables, periodic tables, when your lunch period is, locker combinations, snack time and of course the exact location of the nearest bathroom. Yes, somethings must be memorized. I ask this though….should education really be in the memorization business?

I think not. As a society, we have developed some of the most innovative and astonishing advancements – launching our civilization into incredible technological and academic advances…I postulate that not one of these things were the result of memorizing anything. They were collaborative, they were thinking outside the box, they were even sometimes by accident, but they were always a challenge.

Memorization is safe, it is duplicable, it is testable and it is quantifiable. It is, face it, boring. Who wants to be bored? Do you? Are you REALLY surprised that your children are not likely to WANT to sit still and memorize? OK, they are happy to recite when lunch is, but that is another point entirely.

In the workplace of our children’s future (and our reality) we rarely are in a mine, or a factory, or driving a car – those are all perfectly fine options, but not a likely outcome for many children today. Many will work in an office, where…again…face it, collaborative and critical thinking will be necessary traits – but where are they in schools? Where are they challenged to think in new, constructive, maybe unconventional ways? If not in school…why not at home?

Where is collaborative thinking? What is this concept to busy, overwhelmed parents today?

Collaborative methods are processes, behaviors and conversations that relate to collaboration between individuals.[1] These methods specifically aim to increase the success of teams as they engage in collaborative problem solving. Forms, rubrics, charts and graphs are useful in these situations to objectively document personal traits with the goal improving performance in current and future projects. (Wikipedia)

In our current school system, where do children collaboratively learn? In your classroom, does it happen? You may be surprised to know that it does more often than you think in little ways you may not have expected, but it happens far less than should be required. Of course, let the groan come on hot and heavy – Math. Math of course does charts, cross thinking, graphs, etc. Where are the conversations though? Is the classroom a forum where ideas are shared, celebrated and tested? If not, have you asked why? Are they in your house?

Sure, we parents like to point the fingers at the classroom – what they are NOT doing to prepare our children is like a sport – a blood sport – and we rarely take prisoners (or have a snack bar….maybe I should eat something before I write!) But in truth, we are just as responsible. Do we sit, and discuss hypothesis with our children? Do we investigate how their ideas are practical in real life? Do we make charts to see how these ideas develop past the dinner table? Do we revisit them later to see if we would choose, as a family, a different approach? Do we ever challenge another family with a similar question and get together at the weekend BBQ and see how differently we attacked the problem? If not, why not?

Critical Thinking – It’s whats for dinner! At the Dinner Table that is….right?!?!?

Critical thinking is the process of thinking that questions assumptions. It is a way of deciding whether a claim is true, false; sometimes true, or partly true. The origins of critical thinking can be traced in Western thought to the Socratic method of Ancient Greece and in the East, to the Buddhist kalama sutta and Abhidharma. Critical thinking is an important component of most professions. It is a part of the education process and is increasingly significant as students progress through university to graduate education, although there is debate among educators about its precise meaning and scope.[1] (Wikipedia)

Of course we, as humans, utilize this skill every day. We question our reality, we question the actions of ourselves and others, we question our coffee order when we hear the person in line ahead of us order a daring mix of cinnamon and caramel together…bold…there I go again. But seriously, do we allow time in classrooms to ponder heavy questions and ask honestly of each other our thoughts providing a forum for thought, progress and development? Or are we dealing with a sage on the stage?

Again, if you are reading this “parenting” blog, you are likely not in a classroom. But while we, again, point fingers at the educators and their methods, do we stop and ask how we complete these needs at home? Do we offer a forum? Do we listen to the answers our children provide, or do we provide them with our answers and ask them to, yet again, memorize?

Here Comes Summer! Our Time To SHINE!

OK, ok ok. I am known a little for my summer plans. Where I send people, how I compile data and plans and offer them here on my blog and in my upcoming eBook and past summer camps– hey families in Seattle and on the Eastside – prepare to get VERY busy VERY soon! But yesterday I was asked by an exacerbated mommy friend about a child who, while not malicious, just could not help from taking things apart. This got me thinking – maybe we should all spend less time driving to “events” and more time allowing some backyard and garage style gorilla style critical and collaborative thinking lessons! Why not? What’s stopping us? Even working parents, busier now than ever, can take a day a week and have a very cool end of summer unveil to a project – get the whole playgroup in on the action, and have a block party to show off what you made, how you came up with it and where you did well (and where you needed to regroup – that is important too!)…and a new idea sparked.

At her wits end, she asked me for advice. Not only am I happy to help her, not entirely sure where this journey will lead either of us (or our wee sprites) but sure that the ride itself will be fun….I said to let him. Let him take stuff apart. Find a way to increase his ability and take the burden off your house – get him his space and let him practice – make it a fun project for everyone (collaborating with your siblings can be an effective way to understand the dynamics of your children’s social structure – you may learn things about them you did not previously see). I know I know, we moms like things neat, but no inventor I can think of  likely kept a spotless workplace. I encouraged her (and decided to go along too, sure that this would help my own children) to set aside a work place for her inquisitive son and get him to tinkering. I suggested we start getting carburetors, old bikes, and toilets, whatever from the junk yard and let them take them apart…and see if they could piece them back together. What would they do? What if we let them do it? What would we lose?

Where in your world is your critical or collaborative thinking?

If it is just at work, or in your efforts dealing with the politics of the PTSA or the neighborhood social systems, you are missing your children’s valuable input. Seriously. They don’t have the limitations you do – your experience may tell you some idea is impossible, but to them, nothing is….yet. Sure, Mr. Fork and Mr. Electrical Socket should never be allowed to have “play dates” but asking your children how something works, letting them take it apart, ball bearings and all, and getting them to work together on a project or an idea or just a thought process…well these are priceless times, my friend. Schools have a lot to do, educating the future and all – so, how are you contributing to this? If your job as a parent has lately mostly been, and be honest, a glorified chauffeur from sport practice to music recital…change it. One of my dear friend’s recently said, “If the activity takes less time than the driving to and from, it is not worth it” BRILLIANT!

Stop Driving!

Seriously – it is a dead end. Pick an event or an activity and keep it that way – set aside time and places to tinker with more than just Legos (but don’t forget the Lego’s – that is important too). Don’t be afraid of a grease spot on the garage floor. Don’t be afraid to let that child who likes to tear stuff apart to do so. You never know – the lessons you learn from your children may even help you stop setting limits on yourself! The lessons you give your children, may inspire them to invent the next big advancement in our times…or they may just

Rocking The Home Depot Projects

make a rockin’ cool go cart – either way, that is a road you won’t regret travelling on. I guarantee that the travels will be worth it…and besides….soap is cheaper than gas!