Accelerated Reader

Do your kids have to do this?  Blaine does.  Basically AR is a program that assigns reading levels and point values to books.  Kids in the school system here, and elsewhere, are compelled to read so many books, or for so many points.  Every time they read a book, they take a quiz. If they pass the quiz with a perfect score, they get the total amount of points assigned for that book (anywhere from .5 up to ??  I have no idea what the top end of the scale is, but I have seen books worth 40+ points).  If they pass with less than a perfect score, they get a percentage of the points assigned to each book.

Last year, in third grade, Blaine had to read a certain number of chapter books and picture books and pass the tests each 9 week grading period.  This year his teacher is doing it differently.  This year he has to accumulate 10 points each grading period.  This is not a problem for him because he reads all the time.  But he wanted to try to scam the system, and only test on a few books each 9 weeks to make his 10 point goal and then wait to test on other books he had read the next 9 weeks.  His teacher and I discussed this and it was made clear that the points are cumulative, i.e., Blaine has to reach a total of 40 points by the end of the year.  It doesn't matter if he does them all in the first and second grading period. 

So, this led to a discussion about books and testing between Blaine and I.  And what we ended up with was a challenge.  I challenged him to test on everything that he reads that is an AR book (not all books are AR rated).  If he does that, he should easily reach over 100 points by the end of the year.  I told him that if he reached 100 points, I would give him 100 dollars.  His response?  "Oh it's on like Donkey Kong".

I am not a fan of AR.  I think it sucks the fun out of reading for many, many kids.  Kids who come into the library who don't care what the book is about, they only care if it is short and worth a lot of points because they have some arbitrary goal to reach or they will get a bad grade.  Kids who have to read a science fiction book or a realistic fiction book for it to count.  What if they don't like those genres?  And what about the teacher who doesn't let a fantasy book (like Harry Potter) count as science fiction?  It's all so regulated and I would HATE to have someone regulate what I'm allowed to read or how much I have to read. 

But, as it's a necessary evil here, I decided to make it a challenge for my kid.  Because 40 points for him isn't a challenge.  He hasn't even really been trying this 9 weeks and he's already over 16 points.  Blaine has decided he wants to chronicle his "quest" as he calls it, so I helped him set up a blog of his own.  If you (or your kids) are interested, it's here.

I'll be saving my money, because I have a feeling I'm going to be shelling out 100 bucks at the end of the year.

Living with an old soul

I live with an 80 year old man masquerading as a 9 year old boy named Blaine.

Yes, sometimes he is juvenile - but as my grandmother used to always say "once a man, twice a child".  Which, in a nutshell, means that old men act like 9 year old boys.  Or at least my 9 year old boy.

Blaine is different.  He is a dreamer.  Lost in his own head quite often, able to focus with such intensity on something - a book, a video game, a tv show, that all else is lost to him.  Loves Hot Wheels cars, Wimpy Kid books, and tossing a football around in the backyard.  On the surface, he seems like other boys his age. 

But then you talk to him.  Hang around him for a day or so.  And you will know how different he really is. 

Blaine makes pronouncements that baffle me - in  a good way.  I always stop and wonder how he comes up with the stuff that he says.  What kind of thought process is going through his head when he thinks these things up.  I've mentioned before some of the things he has said.  God's Beard.  Mother's Day. Race Relations.  His heroes are not sports stars.  His heroes are Abraham Lincoln and Martin Luther King, Jr.  He despises litter and picks up trash all the time even as I cringe and tell him to put that nasty thing back on the ground for God's sake!  He just looks at me and tells me that he has to care for the earth. (Now, if only I could get him to care for his room like he cares for Mother Nature, but one doesn't seem to translate into the other).

He woke up the other morning at 4:30am.  Came into my room and woke me and told me that he couldn't sleep because he swore he heard footsteps in the house.  I told him there was nothing to worry about and sent him back to bed.  He went, but he didn't sleep.  When I woke at 6, I hopped in the shower and then headed downstairs to find that Blaine was dressed and ready for school.  He had even made his own breakfast.  Then he said he wanted to show me something.  He took me by the hand and led me in the dining room and on the table was breakfast for me.  He made me a bagel with cream cheese while he was making his own because, he said, that he knows I spend school mornings getting him and his sister fed, lunches packed, permission slips etc signed and that I often skip my own breakfast.  So, he wanted to take care of me since I do such a great job of taking care of him and Kyra.  He even made sure to toast an onion bagel for me instead of the plain kind that he and his sister like.

Stunned doesn't even begin to cover my reaction to this.  Even though this is not an unusual occurrence and it shouldn't be so surprising.

Same day I picked him up from school and he tells me that while the "extended day" kids (of which he is one) were outside playing a woman came by with a baby in a stroller to take a walk around the school track.  Blaine loves babies.  He loves to coo at them and pat their heads and tell them how cute they are.  He tells me that before he walked away from the mom and baby - and I have no idea how old this baby was, but from Blaine's description I'm guessing somewhere in the 6-9 month range - he leaned down into the stroller and told the baby "Kid, let your own feet be your guide into the world and be true to yourself.  Be a leader, not a follower and never let anyone bully you". 

Again with the stunned reaction.  Because, really, what 9 year old boy says these things?

My 9 year old boy.

His name is Blaine and he has an old soul.  I'm blessed to know him and I can't wait to see where his feet lead him.

Smartypants

Hello Blogworld!  I did not forget, I have just been, well, lazy.  Slacking.  Or, as I like to try to justify it, I've been too busy with "REAL LIFE" to post anything.  Yeah, that sounds good.

So what's new?  I now have a Kindergartener.  Kyra is a bus-riding, backpack carrying, lunch-packing student.  And she loves it.  This kid loves school.  Loves to learn.  She is impatient when it comes to figuring new things out.  She wants to read so badly that she gets mad at me if I help her figure out words.  She wants to be able to do everything that her brother does, and she wants to do it better than he does.

The week before school started, Kyra asked me if they would teach her how to tell time because she wants to be able to do that.  I told her they would and then, while helping Blaine do some online math skills that he was assigned for the summer, I saw that the website he was logged into also had math skills for pre-K and Kindy.  I looked through the topics and saw that in the Kindy skill sets there were units on telling time.  I asked Kyra if she would like to try them.  She flew to the computer and said "YES!".  I explained the long arm and short arm of the clock and what they stood for and started the lesson.  She aced it.  Less than 5 minutes of explanation and she just had it.  No problem.

Kyra learned to tie her shoes the first time she was shown how.  She taught herself to double-knot her shoestrings because she didn't like them coming undone.  She learned times tables because Blaine was learning them and she just hung around and listened.  She taught herself simple addition one day when bored in the back of the car.  It was surprising, to say the least, to have her call out "Hey mom, did you know that 2 plus 2 equals 4? and 4 plus 4 equals 8?"  I complimented her teachers at preschool the next day on advancing math skills so quickly and their response was "Um, we thought you were doing flashcards with her at home...we didn't teach her that".

My brother was like this.  He could grasp new concepts and ideas quickly, with a minimum of explanation.  Now, I'm no dummy, but I have to study and work hard to learn new things.  I was a good student, when I put the effort in.  My brother was a horrible student because learning didn't require effort on his part and he got bored.  I don't want Kyra to get bored.  I ask her everyday when I pick her up how her day was.  She is loving it, but she also says things like "We reviewed the alphabet and the letter sounds but I already know them" and "We are doing numbers but I already know my numbers".  She wants something NEW.  Something she hasn't already learned.  She wants to be challenged.  But because she has the ability to grasp new concepts with one try she is always ready to move onto the next thing, impatient to learn and master as much as she can as quickly as she can.

It's going to be fun.  And exhausting.  And amazing. Pray for me. 

Summer Reading

In the past 2 weeks I have been able to read and read and read.  Oh, and watch seasons 5 and 6 of The Office, but that's beside the point.  Since I am not inspired to write about much right now, I figured I would make a few suggestions of books that are awesome.  Keep in mind I work in Youth Services, so many of my book recommendations are heavy on the Juvenile/YA spectrum.  Bite me if you don't like it.

1. Bumped  - Loved, loved, loved this YA book.  It is set in the future and like the Hunger Games, it is a dystopian society.  Unlike the Hunger Games, it is not filled with blood and gore.  The premise is that all females become infertile at the age of 18 and so it is not uncommon for girls to "go pro" and enter into contracts with families to conceive and give birth to babies in return for college tuition.  There's a lot more to it than that, but I could not put it down.  Luckily, it is the first in what looks to be a series.

2. Horton Halfpott: or The Fiendish Mystery of Smugwick Manor; or, The Loosening or M'Lady Luggertuck's Corset - How can you not want to read this book just based on the title?  The author, Tom Angleberger, is also the author of The Strange Case of Origami Yoda which was one of the best books my son read last year (or so he says).  Fun, silly book for kids.  (And their parents).

3. The Mysterious Benedict Society - Fun, complicated mystery story for the juvenile fiction crowd.  Blaine is reading this, so I decided to read it at the same time so we can discuss it.  I liked it so much I finished reading it before he got to chapter 3.  Whoops.  I plan on picking up the second book (yay!  it's a series!) tomorrow at work.

4. Lucy Sullivan is Getting Married - OK, I admit, this one was a re-read.  This is one of my favorite chick-lit books of all time.  It's chick-lit with a little bit more, in my opinion.

5. Smokin' Seventeen - I keep reading these Janet Evanovich novels even though they really are just the same book over and over again. They usually make me laugh and this was no exception.  It took me about 4 hours to read.

6. Wither -  another YA dystopian novel.  As vampire novels were crazy popular a few years ago thanks to the Twilight books, dystopian novels are popular now thanks to the Hunger Games.  I haven't finished this one yet but so far it's pretty gut-wrenchingly good.

This is just a sample of what I have read in the last 2 weeks.  I have a few other books I'm in the middle of along with Wither.  I always seem to have one fun fiction book, one literary book, one juvenile or YA book and one non-fiction book in different spots around the house and which book I read depends on the mood I'm in...and if there are any episodes of The Office I haven't yet watched.

Happy Birthday to Blaine

I have a 9 year old.

I'm not really sure how that happened.  I mean, I know the mechanics of it all, but how did 9 years go so fast?

He's 9.  And he will be in 4th grade.  And he has an iPhone that he loves to text on.  And he's brilliant and compassionate and wise way beyond his years.  I learn something new from him every day, even if what I am learning is the limits of my patience.

He is my first born.  Wished for, hoped for, prayed for.  Years of trying with no luck and then one day two pink lines showed up and 9 months later (well, to be exact, 9.5 months, thankyouverymuchstubbornbaby) I held him in my arms.  He was 10 pounds of perfect joy.  Blue eyes that never changed.  Tiny little hands that grabbed my heart and my soul and never let go.  I read somewhere, and I don't remember where and I am sure I will get the exact quote wrong, that having a child is like taking your heart out of your chest and letting it walk around on two legs. At the age of 10 months Blaine was my walking heart.  Or in his case, my running, falling, tumbling, oh my God he's scraped his face/knees/elbows again heart.

I remember looking at him in the hospital when I was trying to get his flailing legs and arms in his cream and blue baby outfit and thinking "well, what the hell do I do now?!?" and the hospital photographer, who was waiting for me to get him ready for the standard cone-head, red squinty-faced newborn shot offered to help.  "I have three kids, it's gets easier" she said as she deftly tucked him into his outfit without breaking a sweat.  I had a college education and getting him into that outfit was like quantum physics to me so I marveled at the ease with which she managed it and wondered if I was capable.  A part of me was astonished when I was discharged from the hospital.  They were letting me take this child home?  I can't even get him dressed and they expect me to be responsible for him for the rest of his life? Are they nuts?

So I did what mothers since time began have done.  I called my mother.  And she came.  And she cared for us.  She still cares for us.  She and Blaine get to enjoy and annoy each other on a regular basis and I'm so glad they do.

I remember years without sleep.  Blaine was always a light sleeper and did not sleep alone in his bed through the night until he was 3 and I was pregnant with his sister.  I was tired of having the bed hogged by someone so tiny, but then I missed him when he got the hang of it and no longer crawled in bed at 3 am and stole my pillow.  He still crawls in bed with me some mornings when he wakes before I do, but not as frequently and not for as long.  He's getting too old for that.  Soon he will want me to drop him off a block from school and he will be embarrassed by me.  I know that.  I know all kids do that at some point.  But I hope it isn't anytime soon because my heart still catches and skips a beat when he runs up to me when I pick him up from school and hugs me tight.  I cherish each hug, each kiss, each "I love you" and I'm storing them up for the day the hormone monster steals my sweet, lovable boy and changes him into a surly teenager.

Blaine is the best big brother in the world.  He eagerly anticipated the birth of his sister, bragging to everyone about the car seat, crib, outfits and toys we bought for Kyra before she was born.  Though I worried that he would be jealous and would resent no longer being my only, he loved her with a fierceness from the beginning.  He would get anxious when she would cry and would, on more than one memorable occasion, cry out "MOM!  Kyra is crying!  She is hungry!  She needs to eat your boobie!"  Ah, breastfeeding and an inquisitive 3 year old.  What a fun and embarrassing combination.  He can't wait for Kyra to start Kindergarten next year so that she can ride the bus with him and he can show her the ropes.  He is, as all older brothers are, a schmuck to his sister sometimes, but he is also her protector, her teacher, her best friend and her lovey.

All in all, I'm the luckiest mom in the world.  And I have been for 9 years.  That is awesomeness.

Text Me!

Blaine got an iPhone.  If you were in my contacts list on my old (his new) iPhone you probably got a text from him before I transferred them.  It probably was something along the lines of "my mom got a new iPhone and she gave me her old one and we can text each other all the time now isn't that great!" but with worse punctuation and spelling.  And you may have been one of the people who texted back something like "Great!  Who is this?"  since the number had already been changed.

Sigh.  I know, I know.  An iPhone?  For a 4th grader?  In my defense, he is about to travel with his sister to a country far, far away.  So far, in fact, that I don't think my apron strings will stretch the whole way.  I was at the end of my cell phone contract and was upgrading my phone and I got the brilliant idea of giving Blaine my old phone.  He wanted an iPod or iTouch for his birthday - well, he really wanted an iPad, but keep dreaming kiddo - and this way he gets a phone, a pod, and the iTouch games.  The benefits of him having the phone is he will have access to email without having to ask to use a computer, the ability to text me when he wants or needs to and he and his sister can use it for entertainment on the long journey there and back.

It also gives me something else to take away from him when he acts like a butthead!  WIN!

But the downside of Blaine and the iPhone is the text messaging.  The constant text messaging.  Thank God text messaging is free on our plan because holy crap, if I had to pay by the message, I would be looking for a second job or selling crack to cover the phone bill.

Blaine will text good morning to me even if I am in the same room.  He will go through the pictures on his phone and text them to me one by one.  He recently texted me a picture from the day we made donuts with the caption "ah, memrys!".

He texts and texts and texts me.  He loves texting.  Last Friday he texted me "MOM!  Why arnt you texting back! I have texted you 4 times now!!!!" and I turned from the counter where I was packing his lunch and said "I'm busy, that's why".  His answer was to text me again with his answer "I can wait".

Maybe the shine will wear off soon and he won't text me as much and maybe...oh wait, my phone is buzzing...I bet I have a text.

The Secret Life of Queen Bees

I am raising a Queen Bee and it flummoxes me. 

By my definition, a Queen Bee is a person who doesn't have a conversation with you, she makes pronouncements.  She dislikes when you dare disagree with her, but she won't argue with you, instead she will shun you.  She leads, not by example, but by fear.  Fear of losing her favor, fear of losing her connections.  Fear of not having someone to chat with while your kids do whatever extracurricular activity (or in a Queen Bee's case it would be more like activities) you have the precious offspring enrolled in.

There is a Queen Bee that I see a few times a week at one of my progeny's activities. She comes in wearing her mom jeans, hair and makeup looking like she just rolled out of 1989.  She is the worst kind of Queen Bee because she doesn't look like what you would normally assume someone who wields such mom-power would.  She looks like a dumpy, middle-aged house frau.  But then you hear her buzz.  It's louder and more assertive than the buzzing from the moms who flock to her.  She has firm opinions on everything from where to get the best fruit (no grocery stores for her!  You must - MUST - drive to this little farm about 30 miles outside of town.  Oh, and tell them that you heard about it from her!) to how to get stains out of Jr. Bee's uniform (NO CLOROX!  OMG!).  I sit, a few chairs down from where she holds court, and I listen.  I have no desire to join the gaggle of moms who swarm around her.  I prefer to snicker quietly to myself when she makes one of her declarations while reading my book or, shockingly, actually watching my child participate in class!

I have strong opinions on certain things - but I also strongly believe that there are many different ways to buy fruit, get stains out, parent your children, make a ham sandwich, etc.  You like Miracle Whip?  I think that shit is vile, but I don't have to eat your sandwich.  You formula fed?  I breast fed and I believe that it was the right choice for my kids, but your kid doesn't look like he is going to be picking up a banjo and starring in a remake of Deliverance because he sucked down Similac.  You like Clorox?  Fine.  It might yellow your whites, but I don't have to wear them!  You want my opinion, I will share it with you if you ask, but I won't demand that you agree that I am right. I won't dislike you if you do it differently.

And then there is Kyra.  At 5, she is already buzzing like a Queen Bee.  She doesn't walk into preschool.   She makes an entrance.  She doesn't join in the games that the other kids are playing when we arrive, she announces that they will play a new game and she will decide what that game is.  She will tell the assembled group, who swarm around her, that "you will be the daddy, you will be the baby and I'm the mommy, so I'm in charge".  She even tries to Queen Bee me.  She sighs and rolls her eyes when I don't comply with her demands. "Pick that up mommy" she demanded tonight after she deliberately dropped her jacket on the floor, then she sulks and shuns me when I laugh at her ridiculousness.  I like that she is fierce and independent but she needs to learn to be kinder.  To ask, not demand.  To accept that not everything can be her way.  That it's not fair that she believes everything must be shared with her, but that she has to share nothing.

Sometimes I wonder where this child came from.  How a worker bee like me (though with some admitted diva qualities that I try to keep under control) gave birth to such Queen Bee.  At this point, I just try to keep her buzzing to a minimum and to keep her from stinging anyone.  But if she is like this at five, I can't imagine what she will be like at 15.  I hope the hive is ready because it is going to be a wild ride.

Mother of the Year awards accepted here

Parenting fails.  I has them.

In honor of Mother's Day (yes, I know it was a week ago.  Remember, this blog is Random Tales not timely tales) I thought I would list a few of my more spectacular parenting fails - you know, to keep myself humble.  Now, don't get me wrong, I don't fail as a parent in the horrible ways.  I don't beat my children, or duct tape them to their beds.  I make sure they are fed, albeit it's not always a balanced organic meal, but I do my best.  They are always dressed in clean clothes - or at least in Blaine's case, they are clean when he gets on the bus in the morning.  They are always dressed appropriately for the weather - though in Kyra's case her spectacular dress sense is an eye opening experience.  My fails are more of a head-slapping "duh" with the thumb and forefinger in the L shape on the forehead.  So, without further ado, here are two of my recent favorite idiot mom stories!  Enjoy!

I recently purchased a new car.  I love my new car, it's sporty and clean and new new new (it only had 11 miles on it when I bought it.  NEW!)  One of the perks of the new car is that it came with satellite radio.  Now, I've never had satellite radio before and I am loving it.  I especially love the station 1st Wave, which is 80s alternative music.  I think I must have known, at least subconsciously, that it is uncensored radio as they have a Howard Stern station or two.  But for some reason I just didn't think about it.  Until I was driving to preschool with Kyra the other morning and she and I were rocking out - I'm talking sound cranked, singing along, Kyra dancing in her car seat rocking out - to the Violent Femmes.  To be specific, we were jamming to "Add it Up" by the Femmes.  It's a sweet little ditty that starts out with "Why can't I get just one kiss" and works it way up to "Why can't I get just one fuck".  It was at that moment, in that nanosecond before "FUCK" came blaring out of my speakers that I realized that this may not be censored so I started frantically trying to find the button to turn off the radio.  Of course, too little to late.  New car means new button positions and that plus total panic equals my daughter squealing in horror in the back seat "THAT MAN SAID A BAD WORD MOMMY!"  Whoops.  Parenting fail.

On Mother's Day this year the kids and I went to church together, a happy little family.  Our church is a fabulous community and we have time during service where we can share life's milestones - joys, concerns and sorrows.  If anyone has something to share, you go forward, light a candle from a communal flame, and share with the congregation.  Our town was recently hit by a devastating tornado and many in our congregation were affected.  During the Mother's Day service many of our congregation were getting up to share information about volunteering, to give thanks for help received, and to ask for more help.  As we are sitting there listening, Blaine, who was sitting behind me, stands up to go get in line to light a candle.  I turn to him and through gritted teeth tell him to "SIT DOWN".  You see, I assumed that he was going to go up and tell everyone about his mom's new car and I just didn't think it was the time or place.  Some people had just lost their homes and they didn't need an 8 year old sharing the joy of mom's new car with the speakers that light up.  Blaine looked at me and said "Mom, I really have something I need to share".  I glared at him over my shoulder and again told him to sit down.  He again told me he needed to go up and share - he just had to!  We went back and forth like this until I realized that we were making a little mini-scene in church.  At that point I just grimaced and  gritted out "FINE.  JUST FINE. GO."  Then I crossed my arms and prepared myself to be embarrassed by my son.

Blaine's turn comes and I am just hoping that he is done quickly so that I don't have much to apologize for at the end of service.  He approaches the flame, lights his candle and says "My name is Blaine and I have a joy to share with everyone".  Great.  Here it comes.  I'm cringing inside.  Then "Today is one of my favorite days of the year, because it's Mother's Day and I have the best, most caring and loving and wonderful mother in the world and I'm glad I have this day to celebrate that".  Everyone applauds him and I am so overwhelmed with emotion that I am crying.  Crying not just because I love my son but because I realize that I need to have the faith in him that he has in me.  Parenting fail times one million.

I'm sure there will be more parenting fails in my future.  But my kids love me in spite of my failings.  Lucky me.

The War over War

I'm stupid.

Well, at least according to Blaine's 9 year old friend...a boy I shall call Turdface.

Why am I stupid?  Because I won't let Blaine play Call of Duty.

We have entered the phase of life where Blaine is trying to push boundaries (see my previous post regarding Facebook and online chatting) and I knew this would be coming.  I hear the kids talking about the "cool" games they play.

But for fuck's sake.  Call of Duty?  When you are 9?

I have always told Blaine that you shouldn't judge people.  That other people may make decisions that we don't agree with, but that the decision and the consequences of the decision is theirs to bear.  Regardless of what we thought of their decision, it didn't make it right or wrong, it just made it theirs.  Or, to put it as my beloved grandmother used to say "it's their little red wagon, they can push it or pull it, we don't have to ride in it".

But, I came clean with Blaine the other day and told him that I am a big, fat hypocrite.  Because I fully judge those parents.  Judgey judgey judge judge judge.  I have heard the excuses.  "Oh, his older brother plays so he's seeing it anyway" or "his dad is a big kid and loves that game and they play together!"

If your husband surfed porn on the net would you be ok with your 8 or 9 year old son sitting next to him saying "check out the hooters on that one!"  No?  Then why is ok to let that child shoot, garrote, and otherwise maim or kill people on a video screen?  Why is violence ok but nudity is not?  How do you draw that line?

I explained to Blaine, when he informed me that Turdface said I was stupid, that the day I take parenting tips from an 8 year old is the day I hang up my parenting cape for good.  That earned me a withering stare and the snarky comment of "Turdface isn't 8, he is niiiiiiiiine".  Like that makes ALL the difference in the world.  Yeah.  No.

I explained my views on war to Blaine and how killing, in my mind, should never, ever be a game or something you do for fun.  I explained how I feel that playing games like that can desensitize you to the reality of war and death.  How taking someone's life, whether in war or in self-defense is something that will stay on your soul forever and is a heavy burden to bear.  He didn't really get it.  Or care.  I was just the "mean mom"  or, in his 9 year old friend's opinion the "stupid mom".

A few days after our debate about which was more stupid - playing war games or not allowing your son to play war games - a funny thing happened.  Blaine, Kyra and I were getting ready for our regular Sunday night TV time - we love watching The Amazing Race together.  I ran upstairs to grab a load of laundry and Blaine went to turn on the TV and find the right station.  When I came down, Blaine was sitting on the couch, totally sucked into a TV program.  It seems that the CBS schedule was running behind, probably due to some sports thing (basketball?  I don't know as I am both stupid and non-sporty) and he was watching 60 minutes.  The story he was watching was about The Global Medical Relief Fund and their work with a little boy in Iraq who was severely injured by an IED.  He lost a leg, an eye and an arm and was severely scarred.  The story was heartbreaking and uplifting and infuriating and, at the end, joyous.  By the time it was over I was crying (yes, I am a bleeding heart liberal) and Blaine wanted to know why.

I did my best to explain that what he just saw is a consequence of war. That it is not only the bad guys who get hurt.  Sometimes little boys, girls, moms, dads - innocents - all get hurt because of war.  I told him that I was crying with that little boy's mother who was overcome with emotion after her boy was pieced back together.  Because I'm a mother.  And I have a little boy.  And I would feel the same way if it happened to him.  And I told him that this is why I don't want him to play war games for fun.  War is not fun.  Killing should never be a game.  Blaine thought about it for minute and then said, very gravely, "I think I have just learned a very valuable lesson".

I guess the first battle in the war over war goes to me.  But I have a feeling that there are more to come.

Like Running My Fingers Through God's Beard

I have found that one of the best things about having kids is the way they make you stop and think with the things they say.  I have also found that one of the worst things about having kids is the way they embarrass you with the things they say.

Kids tend not to filter their thoughts...or maybe it's just my kids that don't filter their thoughts.  Blaine, by virtue of being older and more verbose is particularly touching with his comments as well as particularly mortifying. If he thinks of something, he is going to say it.  If I try to explain something in detail, he is going to continue dissecting it and discussing it.  Kyra is following in her brother's footsteps and is randomly inspiring/horrifying me at turns as well.

You want to know how much money I make?  Blaine could probably tell you.

You want to know what we had for breakfast?  Kyra could probably tell you.

You want to know the color of my underwear?   Kyra.

You want to know details of my personal life - even if you are a complete stranger?  Blaine.

But I'm trying to focus on the positive, and since I'm complete crap at scrapbooking (I've tried.  I still have all the stuff.  Blaine's birth still hasn't been duly matted, embellished, and preserved for all eternity.  Don't even get me started on Kyra's photos...most of which are still on memory cards, external hard drives and the like.  Prints? HA!) and I am also complete crap at updating baby books past the first few weeks of their precious lives,  I am going to take this space to note some of the better things that have come out of Blaine and Kyra's  brains recently.

In no particular order:

1. Driving home from my parent's house one evening, we had the windows down and the sunroof open.  When we got home Blaine told me that when he was sure no other car was coming, he would stick his arm straight out the window.  He told me that the wind pushing on his arm made him feel like he was running his fingers through God's beard. Kyra then responded "You don't know that.  You don't know God.  God might not have a beard.  God might be a girl!"


2. Kyra stayed at my parent's house last week.  While "helping" her Grandma clean out the front garden so they can plow and get ready for Spring planting, she saw the bamboo poles that my parents use for the beans.  Kyra looked at my mom and demanded to know "Hey!  Why do you have panda food in your garden?"  When my mom explained it to her, Kyra scoffed "they aren't real bamboo.  You don't have pandas".

3.  Another Kyra one - she has learned to spell her last name.  It's a long name and Blaine didn't really master it until about 1st grade.  Kyra is bored by just spelling her last name.  So the other day she spelled it backwards for me.  She has her Kindergarten pre-screen tomorrow.  I can't wait to see her do her times tables (Blaine taught her the zero and one times tables) or to see their faces when they ask her if she can spell her name and she does it backwards for kicks.  She's deliciously evil like that.

4. At church one Sunday a member of the congregation was talking to all of the kids - ranging in age from 3 to 13 - during the service about race.   She asked them what race meant to them.  One girl, about 12 years old piped up and answered that she thought of race as black or white.  A younger girl thought race was about actual racing and winning.  Blaine raised his hand and said "To me race is the human race.  All the people everywhere are a part of the human race".  It stunned me and the congregation and everyone burst into spontaneous applause. I'll never forget that moment.  I remember thinking that Blaine is the person I want to be like when I grow up.  I wish I could be that simple and that complex and that genuine all at the same time.

It all balances out. Kyra might tell you that I have on pink underwear, but then she'll amaze you with her skeptical intellect.  Blaine might tell you that his mom makes 80 billion dollars** a year but then he will stun you with his compassionate insights.  I am willing to put up with the embarrassing because part of the excitement of having kids are those moments when they say something that makes you laugh, reflect, or think.  It's so worth it.



**Actual dollar figure inflated for dramatic purposes.  Also, don't I wish.

I am old. Send Metamucil and Life Alert necklace please.

Blaine.

Blaine.

Oh, how I love thee Blaine.  BUT.  Really?

The other day my incredible son comes to me holding his coin jar.  The coin jar is our random reward/punishment system.  My kid doesn't get an allowance, he gets random change or dollars for being caught doing good.  He also gets money removed when he's a shmuck.  The randomness of it all works for us, because it eliminates the pretending to be good to earn an allowance.  He's allowed to spend the money on anything he wants  (within reason, I draw the line at hookers and blow).  We love the coin jar.

So, he walks into the living room with the coin jar and I'm expecting him to tell me that he's got enough money for a new DS game or some other thing he likes (Bakugan?  WTF is Bakugan and why didn't I come up with this money-making bullshit?).  Instead, Blaine tells me that he would like to know how much money he needs to start his own bank account!  Be still my heart!  My 8 year old boy is fiscally responsible!  I am awesome mom!  I have taught my 3rd grader the power of money and savings and planning and...no.

Blaine then explains to me that he wants to get his own bank account so that he can get his own credit card so that he can buy his own membership on National Geographic's Animal Jam because I refuse to do that for him.

Stupid f'ing Animal Jam.  I've had to make up rules about Animal Jam.  Like "no talking about Animal Jam while we are in the car" and "no talking about Animal Jam while we are in the house"  and "no talking about Animal Jam while we are in a restaurant".   Basically, no talking about Animal Jam at all.  Ever.   I HATE Animal Jam. HATE HATE HATE.  Did you know that alligators and bears can get married on Animal Jam?  Did you know that you can shop at the store if you collect enough crap on Animal Jam?  Did you know you can "chat" with your friends on Animal Jam?  I DON'T CARE ABOUT ANIMAL JAM.  ANIMAL JAM IS THE DEBIL!

He's 8.  And he wants a credit card to chat with friends on the computer.  Oh, and he wants a Facebook page so he can post status updates.  What would he have to update?  "finished homework.  Am going to pick nose now"  or "Farted and blamed it on Kyra.  She hit me".  A friend of mine told me this weekend that his son, who is in 4th grade, has a Facebook page.  The friend logged on to his son's page to check it out and died laughing when he saw that his son was "in a relationship" and then changed it to "it's complicated".  What's complicated about a relationship in 4th grade?  Did the recess bell ring before you got a chance to punch her in the arm and give her cooties?

I have decided that I am just old.  OLD.  Fuddy.Duddy.  But I'm still the mom.  So there will be no 8 year old with a credit card in my house.  Or Facebook pages for Elementary schoolers.  I will be crapping in my Depends adult diapers before my 3rd grader can be "an alligator in a complicated relationship with a bear on Facebook Jam."

I am invincible. Sometimes.

In the past 18 months:

1. I learned that I can connect wirey/wireless/electrical things like internets and TVs and Wiis and they work!  Reading directions (and when all else fails, calling tech support) really pays off!  All of those things I never thought I could do?  I did.
2. I rebuilt an entertainment center that had been completely dismantled and shipped from my home in Oman.  I did not have the directions and bolts had gone missing during the packing/shipping process so I went to the hardware store and bought replacements ALL BY MYSELF.
3. I taught myself how to refinish furniture and did a dresser and a bed for my daughter's room.
4. I bought a tent and went camping.  Twice.  Once just with Blaine and the second time with Blaine and Kyra (the deepwoods diva!).  It went well enough that I think we can keep doing it.  (Damn you Cub Scouts!)  My idea of roughing it is staying at a Holiday Inn.  I hope my kids appreciate my sacrifice.

I also kill and dispose of bugs, fish hairbrushes out of toilets, take out garbage, check the air pressure in my tires, get my oil changed on a regular basis and a thousand other small, seemingly insignificant tasks.  All things that I never cared to do and never really had to do because there was always someone else to do it for me.  But now I do these things for myself and for my kids and I have found that I really don't mind.  Sure sometimes it's a real drag (really kids how did the hairbrush end up in the toilet???) and sometimes it is frustrating, but overall what I end up with each time I attempt something new is a sense of pride and accomplishment.  Each time something works (Hello wireless internet!  I never knew how you worked before!)  I gain a little confidence.

However, there are some things that I will not do.  For example, taxes.  Taxes are the reason God invented accountants.  I also cannot figure out how to build a pinewood derby car (again, damn you Cub Scouts!).  How am I supposed to turn a block of wood into a race car?  Power tools?  What?  Wheels and axles and graphite and weight ratios and calibration...whoops, my head just exploded.

I'm now thinking about buying or possibly building a home.  My mom is a realist and keeps informing me of all the negatives/realities of home ownership.  Like stuff breaking.  Water leaking.  Lawn mowers.  But I really feel like I can  handle it.  Sure, it's nice to be able to make a call and have maintenance come out and fix stuff for free, but the trade off is not feeling like this place is mine and if I want to paint the walls red and tear out the carpet and put down tile I can.  I want that.  I want the ownership. I want to be able to say "This is mine.  I made this happen.  Me." 

Blaine just wants me to buy a house so he can have a dog.  Hey, we all have our priorities.

NOW READ THIS!

I work at a library in what is now called the Youth Services department, a department formerly known as the kid's section or the children's department. It is also occasionally known as the "hey, where are the game computers/bathrooms/elevators?" department. 

I love books.  I love putting the right book in the right hands and having a kid come back to me and say "That was AWESOME!  Can you help me find another one?!?!"  I love having a parent come in and tell me that the book I recommended was perfect and his or her child who hated to read now wants to read more! longer! better!

I love books of all shapes and sizes.  All genres (well, not a huge sci-fi fan, but will read on occasion).  I spend more than my fair share of time reading picture books, juvenile fiction and non-fiction, YA, folk tales, poetry.  On good days I even read books for grown-ups (currently reading In the Woods by Tana French.  Very, very good.)  I try to stay as current as I can with not just what is popular with the wee whippersnappers, but also with great books that they may overlook.  The book I will have to put in their hands while holding their gaze steady with my serious eyes and promising them "you will love it - I swear!"  The book I will have to booktalk like crazy because even though the book is full of awesomeness, the cover is crapolicious (and my goodness there are some doozies out there).

So, on occasion I might venture from stories about my kids to stories about stories.  I must admit here that I have a stronger catalog of books to recommend for the 2nd-4th grade boy crowd because I have a boy in that age range.  I am also pretty good on all books princess/fairy/mermaid/pink because I have a 5 year old girly girl.

I will be adding links to websites that I like that are full of good book choices.  My current fave for boys is Guys Read.  I love Jon Scieszka.  I love Mac Barnett.  Well, not them, per se.  But their books.  Their writing.  Their unabashed boyness.  I recently had the opportunity to go see Jeff Kinney speak and he said that after writing the Wimpy Kid books he kept hearing from parents, teachers and librarians about how his books were great for reluctant readers and that he eventually figured out that reluctant reader was just code for BOY.  The Guys Read initiative and the authors that contribute to the website and the books (one currently out and more to come!) are doing their best to change that.  If you have a boy and you have ever despaired of him reading more than the x-box instructions, then you should check it out.  And if you do, all I have to say is "38!".

Happy Birthday to Kyra

Tonight at 8:37pm EST, my little girl turned 5.

Holy cow, my baby is 5.

5 years of awesomness.  5 years of the sweetest, most beautiful, most exasperating, most challenging child.  Totally different from her older brother.  She has made me learn completely different parenting skills because what worked with Blaine does not work with her.  I've tried dissecting their differences before, but suffice it to say, they are night and day, chalk and cheese, black and white. Yet he is still her best friend, her lovey, her defender.  She is also his biggest defender.  She will jump up in front of me if she thinks I'm being mean to Blaine (i.e., telling him he has to do his homework before playing on the Wii) and will put her hands on her hips, jut out her obstinate chin and look me dead in the eye and say "You don't talk to my brother like that!  NOT NICE!"

I'm not afraid to admit that she is smarter than I am.  She outsmarts me on a regular basis and it keeps me on my toes.  We've been having issues with veggie eating.  She doesn't want to and  I try to convince her that vegetables are not going to poison her.   Recently, while driving to pick her brother up from school we had the following debate, in which I had my ass handed to me:

Me: Kyra, you know you have to eat vegetables.  Barbie eats vegetables and look how smart and pretty and healthy she is.
Kyra: Barbie doesn't eat vegetables
Me: Yes she does!  Barbie loves vegetables!
Kyra:  Mom...Barbie isn't real.  She is pretend and so is her food!
Me:  Uh, ok.  Well, the people who invented Barbie and make Barbies - they got so smart because they eat their vegetables.
Kyra: You don't know that
Me: Of course I do!  Vegetables make you smart and the Barbie inventors are smart!
Kyra: No, you don't know that they eat their vegetables because you don't know them!  You don't know what they eat!

At this point I realized I was losing an argument to a 4 year old.  So I decided to just end the conversation.  And again, I was outsmarted:

Me: You know what, let's not argue about it anymore.  You just ride along in the backseat and I will ride along in the front and we will go get your brother and everyone will be happy!
Kyra: I'm not in the backseat
Me: Yes you are.  I'm in the front, you are in the back
Kyra: No, you are in the front.  My bike is in the back.  I am in the MIDDLE seat.

Again she was right.  And she knows it.  And she gloats.  And I wouldn't have her any other way because she is awesomeness.

Speaking of awesomeness, here is a small sampling of her fashion sense.  Her clothing choices are hysterical, but they work because she is fearless when it comes to fashion.  I love her more than I could ever describe.  There are no words to sufficiently tell the story of how blessed and lucky I feel every single day of my life.  She was an unexpected pregnancy after I thought I could not have more children and she remains my daily unexpected joy in ways big and small.  Happy birthday Kyra.

18ish months.  She started dressing herself at a young age.

See? Awesomeness.

You know you wish you could pull off this look as well as she does

Cheese face

With her hero and big brother, Blaine

Hot Fresh Now

My patio table, under about an inch of ice

If you have watched the news in the last few days you might have heard something about a snow/ice storm that hit and paralyzed the South.  Yes, make all the jokes you want but Southerners do NOT know how to drive on snow and it is for our own safety that a state of emergency is declared (no shit, they really did!) and school is canceled and the library where I work is shut down and YAY SNOW DAY.

Except there really was no snow for us.  Just ice.  Lots and lots of ice.  Yucky ice.

Blaine, "tasting" the snow/ice

 So, the dreams of building a snowman and having a snowball fight in the 4 to 6 inches we were supposed to get went out the window.  Monday morning, with no school and no work and no snow to play in, the kids and I were pretty much trapped at home.  And then Blaine said "hey, you know what would be great on a cold, cold day like today?  A Krispy Kreme Hot Fresh Now Donut!  Can we go get some?"  After explaining to Blaine that driving on the inch or so of ice would undoubtedly land us in the ER, I fired up the computer and a few Google hits later, had a Krispy Kreme taste-alike recipe.  Instead of going out and braving the roads for a Hot Fresh Now, we just made them ourselves.  And they were pretty damn awesome.

Sous Chefs

Blaine is an awesome donut roller

Cutting them out

The first few were huge, so we downsized our cutter

Lots of glazing and tasting going on here

Woks - not just for stir fry!

Sugar Rush

He declared them delicious

Parkity Park Park Park

Subtitle: God I love the Hipstamatic for iPhone app.

Today was a beautiful, clear and a wee bit cold day.  The kids and I decided to get out of the house (well, since I'm the one with the car keys and the ability to reach the gas pedal, I guess I decided and they agreed).  We ran a few errands and then stopped at the park to run around and play for a bit.  Our Christmas break is coming to an end.  I go back to work and Kyra returns to school tomorrow.  Blaine is out of school until Thursday and will spend tomorrow with my parents on the farm.

Since it was our last day just hanging out, I took a ton of photos at the park to mark the end of our great staycation.

My favorite random photos from today are below.  If you have an iPhone and don't have Hipstamatic, my only question to you is WHY??  It's awesome.  Some lens/filter combinations are better than others, but overall?  I love it.

And my kids wonder why I call them monkeys

Best friends

Goofballs

OMG, a natural smile for a change!

Don't hate the hairbow.  Hairbows are AWESOMENESS!

Kyra caged

Equal Time

Here's the thing about having two kids...what you do for one, you have to do for the other.  So, since I started with a post featuring Kyra, I figured I should follow-up (and quickly!) with a post featuring my son, Blaine.

Rock on, Wimpy Kid!

Awesomeness.  Back in my day, this type of photo would have been taken by a rock band's tour bus.  My poor kid.  Being raised by a wanna-be librarian has warped him and he is geeking out over a book tour bus.  I made sure we listened to the Ramones on the trip home just so everything evens out.  Hey, ho, let's go!

Random Tales and Nonsense

It starts with a picture.

This picture:

AHHHHH SQUIDS ARE GOING TO GET ME!

This is Kyra.  Why is she wearing her brother's sparring gear and screaming?  Well, because we were going through a carwash.  And the squids were out to get her.  Naturally.