Parental mortification.
It comes when your child does something that you’re so embarrassed about, you debate moving to another state. Okay, he didn’t kill anyone, but ….
Yesterday Isaiah pulled down a little girl’s pants at day camp. I was horrified. All I could think of was this little girl being scared, embarrassed, crying. My husband and I talked to him both together and separately. He wrote a note to the girl that says, “Isaiah M. is sorry. To Emma” It’s a little backwards, but gets the point across. Oh, and did I mention that Emma is not a tom boy – she’s a shy, adorable, tiny little girl. You’d think he could at least pick on someone his own size!?
This morning I march him into day camp and go to the head instructor, and Isaiah apologizes to her. Then I ask for Emma and her parents, and her mom is CONVENIENTLY sitting there in the hallway. I’m ready to defend my little guy and explain that he’s not a malicious perv in training. Her mom was accepting of Isaiah’s apology, Isaiah gave Emma his note, and Emma’s mom had her give Isaiah a hug. We chatted for a bit, and I tried to explain that we obviously don’t condone such behavior. Then she tells me that their biggest problem with it was that Emma thought it was funny. She said that she has a 2 year old boy and for all she knows, it’ll be him doing it next week.
Sometimes I forget how understanding most parents are. Raising kids is kind of a universal experience, we’ve all seen and tackled the same issues. No one wants to be too rigid, only to be the one apologizing next time.
I’m just glad he didn’t end up on the pre-k offender registry.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Oh, My Balls!
While giving Belly a bath last night, he started repeating lines he's heard from movies, TV and Youtube. One of them had the word "testicles" in it. So I asked him if he knew what testicles are, and he said no.
Now, Belly's quite big enough to wash himself these days, my Mom duty is only to wash his hair and face so he doesn't blind himself. So I explained that his testicles are below his penis. Of course he got out of the water and yanked it up and said, "You mean these?"
"Yes, dear, I mean those."
He then asks for a run down of penis neighborhood parts and functions. Ever try to explain a urethra to a five year old? Do try, because it's great just to hear them repeat the word.
The he says that there's one more thing down there, but he doesn't know what it is. I ask what, and he says,
"Balls."
with such innocence and openness.
He was delighted to find out that balls are testicles, and to finally get what all the jokes mean when someone gets hit "in the balls."
(You may be asking WHY on earth my five year old would hear those jokes. Two words - Mike Meyers)
So at this point he's out of the bath and getting dried off and I'm trying in vain to get him to stop saying BALLS. So I told him it's not something to joke about, they're private parts. He retorts that private parts aren't BAD. Touche. So I said that it's not a word for kids to say.
Then the light bulb goes off over his mischievous little cherub head and he says, "I won't say it at school, and I won't say it in front of Daddy. I'll just tell you!"
Then he had one last request. "Can I say one more thing?", he asks.
"Sure," I say.
He crouches in classic ball-shot position and yells, "Oh, my balls!"
Oh, the many joys of raising male children!
Now, Belly's quite big enough to wash himself these days, my Mom duty is only to wash his hair and face so he doesn't blind himself. So I explained that his testicles are below his penis. Of course he got out of the water and yanked it up and said, "You mean these?"
"Yes, dear, I mean those."
He then asks for a run down of penis neighborhood parts and functions. Ever try to explain a urethra to a five year old? Do try, because it's great just to hear them repeat the word.
The he says that there's one more thing down there, but he doesn't know what it is. I ask what, and he says,
"Balls."
with such innocence and openness.
He was delighted to find out that balls are testicles, and to finally get what all the jokes mean when someone gets hit "in the balls."
(You may be asking WHY on earth my five year old would hear those jokes. Two words - Mike Meyers)
So at this point he's out of the bath and getting dried off and I'm trying in vain to get him to stop saying BALLS. So I told him it's not something to joke about, they're private parts. He retorts that private parts aren't BAD. Touche. So I said that it's not a word for kids to say.
Then the light bulb goes off over his mischievous little cherub head and he says, "I won't say it at school, and I won't say it in front of Daddy. I'll just tell you!"
Then he had one last request. "Can I say one more thing?", he asks.
"Sure," I say.
He crouches in classic ball-shot position and yells, "Oh, my balls!"
Oh, the many joys of raising male children!
Sunday, June 7, 2009
Where's the Rum?!
Spent Friday having fancy scans done on my eyes, because I'm having some sight issues. Yah, sight, that thing you need to drive, work, etc. They didn't find anything that points to VKH (the rare condition I'd been diagnosed with in 2006) Now there are just no answers about why my eyes are acting all wonky. All I know is my vision is changing, and not in a good way.
I've decided, if I go blind, I'll have to give up my plan to become a teacher. Instead, I'll be a pirate. And I'll wear 2 eye patches. And because I can't see, I'll sail in circles.
My name will be Shipwreck. And I'll hang out with Johnny Depp, of course. Ah, I love a pirate who appreciates a good red wine.
I've decided, if I go blind, I'll have to give up my plan to become a teacher. Instead, I'll be a pirate. And I'll wear 2 eye patches. And because I can't see, I'll sail in circles.
My name will be Shipwreck. And I'll hang out with Johnny Depp, of course. Ah, I love a pirate who appreciates a good red wine.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Playing Favorites
Last week, Hubs accused me of blatantly favoring our older son. And at the time, I probably was. You see, some days he's just so much... easier. He wants to please. He wants to be The Good One. He's very agreeable. Helpful. Empathetic.
And the Belly, well... he's the Belly. Some days he's an absolute joy to be with. Other days he's argumentative, stubborn, selfish, willfully defiant.
(And all this time I'd thought he took after Hubs - I may be wrong here)
How do you balance that, especially when the kids are 5 years apart?
Had a really rough day today. Wanted nothing more than to watch a Korean horror movie with an extra large glass of red wine by my side. But my mom came knocking, she'd had a bad day and needed someone to unload on. And so I listened and commiserated. She finally left, but then I found out the dog peed a river on the floor, so instead of relaxing, I started floor cleaning. 15 minutes later I *finally* drop down on the couch, then Belly walks in and says, "I can't sleep. Please come and sit with me?"
I wanted to be mad and scold him, I did. But I couldn't. I took his tiny hand and led him back to bed, where I kissed his head and held him until he fell asleep.
Maybe in the end, this whole favoring thing all evens out.
Oh, and then there's Rob Pattinson....
And the Belly, well... he's the Belly. Some days he's an absolute joy to be with. Other days he's argumentative, stubborn, selfish, willfully defiant.
(And all this time I'd thought he took after Hubs - I may be wrong here)
How do you balance that, especially when the kids are 5 years apart?
Had a really rough day today. Wanted nothing more than to watch a Korean horror movie with an extra large glass of red wine by my side. But my mom came knocking, she'd had a bad day and needed someone to unload on. And so I listened and commiserated. She finally left, but then I found out the dog peed a river on the floor, so instead of relaxing, I started floor cleaning. 15 minutes later I *finally* drop down on the couch, then Belly walks in and says, "I can't sleep. Please come and sit with me?"
I wanted to be mad and scold him, I did. But I couldn't. I took his tiny hand and led him back to bed, where I kissed his head and held him until he fell asleep.
Maybe in the end, this whole favoring thing all evens out.
Oh, and then there's Rob Pattinson....
Friday, May 22, 2009
Defending My Honor
Dear readers,
Maybe you’ve noticed, I like to write. Every English class or creative writing class I’ve taken, I’ve sailed through. Writing is one of my strong points. Far more than speaking, math, art, etc. In my letters about Safe Haven, I can be passionate or persuasive. I can be informative or funny. I can get you fired up or make you cry. I. Can. Write.
However, the Illinois Certification Testing System says that I cannot.
You see, my test results were released today. Got a near perfect score on reading comprehension, but received the minimum passing score on the writing portion. I ask you, how can this be? Even math, the subject that I struggle with, I scored pretty well. But WRITING?! Who the hell scored this? Shakespeare?? Whose standard did I not live up to??!! I must know!
Maybe you’ve noticed, I like to write. Every English class or creative writing class I’ve taken, I’ve sailed through. Writing is one of my strong points. Far more than speaking, math, art, etc. In my letters about Safe Haven, I can be passionate or persuasive. I can be informative or funny. I can get you fired up or make you cry. I. Can. Write.
However, the Illinois Certification Testing System says that I cannot.
You see, my test results were released today. Got a near perfect score on reading comprehension, but received the minimum passing score on the writing portion. I ask you, how can this be? Even math, the subject that I struggle with, I scored pretty well. But WRITING?! Who the hell scored this? Shakespeare?? Whose standard did I not live up to??!! I must know!
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Things I've Screwed Up This Week
My bank account
My friend's birthday
Forgetting awards ceremony
AND forgetting the kids' spring concert.
I'm really on a roll now! Wednesday was the Spring Concert at the kids' school. Have I mentioned how much I love the school?? Anyway - FIVE minutes before we're set to leave, Daimean tells me he's supposed to dress like a hobo. So I whip up a hobo costume in five minutes. Then he tells me he can't find his shoes (while I'm desperately trying to find something approprate to wear in the 90 degree heat) but he's SURE they're in the car. Fine, I say, just put them on when you get in the car, and he proceeds to walk out in his socks.
Halfway to school I ask him if he's got his shoes on, and he says no, they must be at school.
After threatening to send him to a boarding school in Malaysia, we park and he walks into the school WITH NO SHOES ON. I have never been so embarassed in all my life.
My friend's birthday
Forgetting awards ceremony
AND forgetting the kids' spring concert.
I'm really on a roll now! Wednesday was the Spring Concert at the kids' school. Have I mentioned how much I love the school?? Anyway - FIVE minutes before we're set to leave, Daimean tells me he's supposed to dress like a hobo. So I whip up a hobo costume in five minutes. Then he tells me he can't find his shoes (while I'm desperately trying to find something approprate to wear in the 90 degree heat) but he's SURE they're in the car. Fine, I say, just put them on when you get in the car, and he proceeds to walk out in his socks.
Halfway to school I ask him if he's got his shoes on, and he says no, they must be at school.
After threatening to send him to a boarding school in Malaysia, we park and he walks into the school WITH NO SHOES ON. I have never been so embarassed in all my life.
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