Tag Archives: children
Entering The Teenage Zone…
15 May
Yep, entering the Teenage Zone, once again. Worse than the Twilight Zone. I’ve been terrified of this since she was born, and now here we are.
It was a wake-up call for me.
We were driving to her softball game, and heard a rap song from the past that was a favorite. (Yes, you heard right – Rap. I still crank it up quite a bit. Even to hip hop – yep, it gets you going).
Anyway, we cranked it up. But it wasn’t that ear-splitting, bass thumping loud. Just normal loud. I thought nothing of it. I’ve always played my music loud .
We finally got to her game, and dropped her at the curb in the parking lot. “Good luck, sweetie. I love you,” I told her.
“Thanks, I love you too,” she said. Quickly followed by, “Could you turn the radio down please?” She waited for the turn of the volume knob, and then she opened the door.
As we went to find a parking space, I asked my husband, “Did you hear her? That was cute.”
“What’s so cute about her being embarrassed we had the radio too loud?” he wanted to know.
Lightbulb moment!!
“Oh,” I answered. “I thought she was worried about me not being able to hear her say ‘I love you’.”
Nope.
I know. Naïve.
And we have now entered The Teenage Zone.
FUNNY KID STUFF…..(I think)…
10 May
It’s scary when a four-year-old attempts tricks that are usually featured in a place like the Guinness record books. And sometimes funny. But always surprising.
My grandson ran up to his mother, giggling, anxious to show her the trick he’d just come up with. He put both index fingers into his nostrils (at least he wasn’t doing it with chop sticks for a walrus impression). He said, “Look what I can do,” and then he blew. And laughed some more.
My daughter thought it odd, and said, “Are you blowing air out of your ears?” Not really expecting an affirmative answer.
“No, Mom,” he laughed. “Out of my eyes! It tickles!”
OH–MY–GOD!!!
“What?” my daughter asked. “Let me see.”
And sure enough, air came through his eye sockets, and was tickling his eyeballs.
You might ask if he’d seen the man on TV who could drink milk, and make it shoot from his eyes. And the answer would be “yes”.
I know – I have a very talented family. Scary to think what his next trick will be.
Military Camo – Disguising Child Neglect?
17 Apr
Military Camo – Disguising Child Neglect?
This week I visited my son and his family – they just had a new baby boy whom we wanted to meet. My son is in the military, and lives in off-base military housing. I’d seen a picture of their house, which was beautiful. They live across from the pool, down the street from a playground, and within walking distance to the elementary school. Perfect, right?
We drove into their subdivision, and it was beautiful – large two-story townhomes, spacious and well maintained. The streets and yards were clean; it was a gorgeous neighborhood. I still didn’t understand why it wasn’t the neighborhood my son and his wife wanted their kids growing up in.
And then we heard the stories.
Every house in their neighborhood has kids (a “families only” subdivision). And at least three out of four of those families let their kids run wild. My daughter has been their surrogate mother on many occasions.
Are the fathers deployed and overseas? I don’t know. But what I do know is that many of the mothers in that community don’t work – they’re stay-at-home moms. But what are they doing? They’re not taking care of their kids, but leaving that task to parents who just can’t stand to see child neglect.
Examples:
It seems as if the neighborhood is inhabited by only children. Rarely are there ever any parents in sight.
At least twice, kids were “dumped at the door” after being picked up from school; their rides driving away before they even found out no one was home. Once, after being told that their kids COULD NOT spend the night, the kids were dropped off at one parent’s house anyway, with the parents driving away and being MIA until the next day.
My daughter has had kids surrounding her kitchen table after school – all of them needing help with homework that they say they don’t get at home. All of them wanting food – they’re hungry.
My daughter has walked other people’s kids to school with her own. She’s been called before school by the kids, saying they can’t wake their mothers up to help them get ready for school. Could she please wait while they get ready and run to catch up?
Once there was a little five year old who was walking by himself to school, crying. My daughter asked him what was wrong, and he said he was hungry. His mother didn’t feed him, and he had no money to buy school food, and had used his freebie the day before.
The playground is a notorious place to visit. The older kids are cursing bullies who take your toys, or who try to hurt and intimidate the smaller kids. Again, no parents .
And what about the angry elementary school child on the playground, getting a butcher knife and an ax from home, then chasing the other kids, and threatening to cut them? The police were called but they couldn’t locate his mother. MIA. Again.
My son and daughter have been warned that they haven’t even experienced the real test with the parentless kids in the neighborhood. Summer. The pool won’t let anyone under sixteen in without a parent. So the children swarm the area, begging any adult they see heading for the pool if they can go in with them. Like the hungry child beggars in Mexico swarming tourists. But these kids are begging for attention, not money.
Where are their mothers?
My smaller kids were playing with some neighborhood children during our visit, and were appalled to find out they’d never jumped rope, or thrown a Frisbee. Normal kid-things to do, but no one had taught them.
So the great revelation during my visit to the beautiful military housing neighborhood where my son and daughter live: Once again, looks can always be deceiving. Military camouflage can cover military child neglect (just like it’s disguised in the non-military world.)
Maybe the military should create another special ops team – Child Protective Forces. Sounds like they need it.
What Better Way to End 2010 Than With a Bribe??….
1 Jan
What better way to begin the New Year than with a bribe? Or maybe I was just trying to end the old year with one? I’m not sure, and I guess it really doesn’t matter.
Every year we usually do the same thing to celebrate New Year’s Eve – we go out to eat, with between 2 and 5 of our own kids, and up to 7 of theirs. Then we go home, and try very hard to stay up until midnight to ring in the New Year. I give the kids fake champagne in fancy glasses, and we all go out on the front porch (under the car port to avoid any falling bullets) where the kids bang on pots and pans, and yell “Happy New Year” as loud as they can. Then we go to bed.
At least we parents do. What can I say? I’m old and boring (at least late-night on New Year’s Eve). But last year I promised my little boy that next year we would consider going to the New Year’s Eve celebration downtown and watch the fireworks.
How did “next year” get here so fast? I didn’t even remember my “promise to consider”. But you know that he did.
So we told him we’d try to go, after we went to a late dinner.
But even after our late dinner, we still had 2.5 hours to midnight, and we didn’t want to stand around in the cold for that long. We decided to go to a friend’s house to pass some time, and on the way, we looked at Christmas lights (another of our procrastinations).
But we old folks still couldn’t see how standing out in the cold for hours was a cooler thing to do than snuggling in our warm bed and reading a book/watching TV. But this year, even my thirteen-year-old girl wasn’t interested in going – she said she was tired; she was falling asleep. Go figure. (But at least it wasn’t just we “old people” this year).
Then an idea of brilliance hit me. I’d helped my little boy online-shop for Gears of War action figures earlier in the day, and he was only able to afford one instead of two (they are expensive and hard to find). What if I gave him the choice of either going to the celebration, or getting that second action figure he couldn’t afford? (One good thing about being older – you usually have more cash). Of course, just a consolation prize so he wouldn’t feel too bad about missing the fireworks. NOT A BRIBE! A CONSOLATION PRIZE!
I felt sure he’d go for it. After all, he’d even had me Tweet Cliff Bleszinski, the designer for Epic Games who created Gears of War, his favorite X-Box game, to see if he could discuss characters and plot with him (of course, to no avail: therealcliffyb probably doesn’t have time for brilliant nine-year-olds). But I truly thought this would be a win-win for all of us!
I was shocked that he didn’t jump at the chance. Not only did he not jump, he was just very saddened at the fact that the rest of us really didn’t want to go. Then he just gave in, because he didn’t want to make his family do something they didn’t want to do on New Year’s Eve. He didn’t seem to care about the action figure at all.
CRAP! I didn’t have the heart to stand him up.
So we drove into the mass of cars parked downtown, and made our way into the area that housed the stage, and music, and massive digital screens which decorated the buildings (a Times Square wanna-be). We were actually squished in the middle of about two-gazillion twenty-something-year-olds, with beers in their hands. My little boy was so short, he could barely see anything, and there wasn’t even room to try to hold him up.
But we listened to music, and watched the fireworks go off at midnight (the fireworks dancing to the music – very cool), and wished each other Happy New Year. And we actually made it out of the crowded mass without being flattened or trampled. (The only casualty of the evening was my teen-aged daughter’s coat which got sprayed with champagne, and now “smelled like beer”, to her great dismay).
And I had to admit, I’m glad we went. It was kind of a cool way to say goodbye to 2010, and welcome 2011. My older kids celebrated at home this year – imagine that. I was crazier than they were. Maybe I’ll even do something else this year that is out of character for an old person.
Thanks little boy!!
Happy New Year everyone!
An Inspiration – A Lesson in Giving…
11 Nov
I always try to find some way for my young kids (ages 8 and 11) to get involved in helping others. And this year, I have extra incentive – their Church confirmation class requires it. (I think this is a great requirement, by the way. Kids need to learn how to give themselves to others – it should feel natural to them). A project through work, the United Way, and the Women’s Leadership Council caught my eye, and before I knew it, the three of us were signed up.
Last night, we went to downtown Dallas to the United Way Offices, with about 75 other women, and made Thanksgiving posters to decorate the doors of the patient rooms at Children’s Medical Center, for kids who would be there for Thanksgiving. We each made five, and painted and stamped and cut and glued our little hearts out. The kids did a great job, and experienced the happiness of bringing joy to someone else.
But the highlight of my evening, and one of the highlights of my motherhood, was reading what was written on one of the posters made by my 11-year-old girl. She’d put a Thanksgiving picture in the middle, but around it wrote,
“You Inspire Me”
And that was all I needed to know. At least for one night, I’d done my job. My kids learned the lesson of giving to others who might need some help, and the truly amazing lesson that usually the giver is also the receiver in so many ways
Try your hardest to be an inspiration for others, and it’s almost guaranteed that you’ll be inspired in return.
Snapshots: Impressions From Births & Birthdays…
5 Nov
Impressions From a Stillbirth:
There is no crying upon entry to the world. There is no sound at all, and it is the most horrible silence you could imagine.
There is nothing to look forward to after suffering the pain of childbirth; the pain is a punishment, instead of the required payment for a wonderful gift.
A total, hollow absence of joy; a vacuum of grief.
A motionless swaddled bundle whose time with you is very brief.
No eyes looking into yours to see the love that will always be there.
A paper autumn leaf taped to the hospital door to let others know that inside lingers the cold and bitter touch of winter, and not the lighthearted joy of spring.
A hospital basinet with ice under the blankets where the small mattress should have been.
Nana will always be there to hold you, whether you are living or not.
Impressions From a Premature Birth:
The wonderful wailing sound of life upon entry to the world.
The scale that tells the world you’re so much smaller than you should be.
The tubes and patches and wires that are a part of your new body after transfer to the NICU.
Eyes looking into mine, seeing the relief that you’re alive.
The rocking chair by each special incubated basinet; the nesting place for the new mothers who have to visit just to be near their own babies.
The tininess of the little bodies in that room; the fear of the parents there.
The beeps and hums of the machinery making sure you’ll live past your birthday.
The thankfulness that, as of this minute, you’re OK.
The lullaby I sing to you so you’ll always know the sound of my voice.
The visits so very structured by times, numbers, ages, and sterile scrub-downs.
The sheer relief and happiness when they finally decide you can go home.
Being so very sure that as long as we have life instead of death, we can deal with it.
Nana will always be there to hold you.
Impressions From a One-Year-Old:
The almost-toothless grin that you give us every other minute, telling us you’re happy.
Your two little bottom teeth that can so expertly gnaw through cookies.
The giggles that we’ve come to love and need so much.
The little glittery jeweled earrings that your mother insisted on getting her first girl.
The way you hold onto my finger for dear life when you try to stand.
Your sheer happiness at just observing life going on around you.
Your refusal to crawl.
Watching your tongue and lips try to form the word Nana, when so far it’s only been DaDa and MaMa.
Being so very thankful that you’re here and happy and healthy; knowing that’s the only thing that really matters.
Nana will always be there to hold you.
Happy Birthday, our little blessing! We love you!
On Having Grown Children… MYOB…
10 Sep
It’s great to have gotten through the terrible two’s, the know-it-all teen years, and most of the angst your kids suffered while they were growing up. You now have grown children whom you’re proud of – they have their own problems to deal with, but they’re THEIR problems. Not ours.
And that’s one thing we parents have to learn when dealing with grown children:
MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!!
Or, in simpler terms:
M Y O B!!!!
(Unless of course they need help, and then they’re usually more than willing, even happy and enthusiastic, to accept handouts and help out of their jams).
Hey – if any of my kids are reading this – DON’T WORRY: it’s not YOU! (It’s the “OTHER” one).
(Note to parents: Kind of like telling each of your kids on the sly that they’re your favorite, but to keep it a secret!).
Kids – gotta love ‘em!!
Let’s Be Thankful That We Have Our Children…
27 AugTwo recent horrible incidents again remind me to be thankful that my kids and grandkids are safe and healthy and still here and able to bug us to pieces.
On Tuesday, a two-year-old boy drowned not too far from our house in a neighbor’s swimming pool. He’d been having fun, and laughing, and showing his family how well he could swim. And then I guess he’d decided to try it by himself in a neighbor’s pool when no one was looking, and he drowned. One minute he was there playing and laughing, and then he was gone. Just like that.
Several weeks ago, a local three-year-old girl almost choked to death on a grape. She had turned blue, and the heimlich maneuver wouldn’t work. Then the firefighters tried a special suction tool that extracted the grape and cleared her airway. Althought eight long minutes without oxygen had passed, the girl is miraculously doing fine.
So let’s just remind ourselves each and every day that we are so lucky to have our children with us, even if we’re pulling our hair out because they’re fighting over who will get to watch what TV show, or crying because you made them mad, or pestering you to play a game with them or to let them cook, or to help you do your exercises. If you’re frustrated with them, just cry your tears and have your meltdown, and then be so glad that those kids are there to get you through each and every day.
Be safe!
10-Year-Old Spontaneous Crying…
3 JanBeing compulsive about my blog as I am, I check the blog stats regularly to see who/what sites have been accessing my blog. I came across an apparent accidental access by someone who was trying to search the web for “10-year-old spontaneous crying”. If that person visits my site again, I would just like to comment on this issue.
Our Family
I have five kids, three of which are girls. One of my girls just turned 11, and I would just like to reassure you – she had bouts of spontaneous crying as well. I think most of it is just the hormonal blitz that girls this age experience. If this is the only “symptom”, it’s probably just a phase she’s going through.
However, I also have a girl who suffers from a mental disorder, and her symptoms began to surface when she was ten. She had trouble getting along with others, especially authority figures (such as in school). She was extremely rebellious when she felt she was being treated unfairly. In addition, she was such a good fabricator that you would swear she thought she was telling the truth. (We came to find out this was one of the hallmarks of her disorder – manufacturing facts to fit her feelings. So she did, in fact, think she was telling the truth). But we have gotten through the worst of it, and her life has gotten progressively better. I think we have “overcome.”
There Is Hope
I’m not a medical professional – I can only tell you what I’ve experienced as a parent. If your child’s spontaneous crying is the only issue, it will probably pass. But if there are other issues he/she is suffering through, you might want to get her evaluated by a mental health professional. My husband and I came to decide that early intervention was so much better than waiting around for things to change on their own. So if my 11-year-old ever begins to show the same signs as her sister, we will be proactive and try to get treatment earlier than we did the first time around.
But remember – things can, and do, get better. There is hope. You will get through it, and maybe become even stronger people, and a closer family, than when you started out.
