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A Lesson in A-S-S

5 Oct

She asked and I told her – over and over and over again. It felt like I said the word ass more during that ten minutes talking to Nia in the car than I’ve said in the past seven years.

It all began when she asked to listen to Pink’s song “Get the Party Started.” Her dancing class plays and she wanted to continue rocking out to it after class. The difference is, the version her dance class uses is probably G-Rated. The version I played had the lyrics: “I’ll be burnin’ rubber, you’ll be kissin’ my ass.”

Nia: What does that word mean, momma?
Me: Um, well, it can mean a few things. Some say it as another word for donkey to mean silly or stupid. They say jackass instead of donkey. Like, that person is a jackass. But that’s not nice and we shouldn’t say it. It’s also used as a not nice way to say bottom or butt. (Clear my throat.) Ass. We also shouldn’t say that.
Nia: How do you spell it?
Me: Why?
Nia: Just ’cause I wanna know.
Me: Well, you spell it a-s-s but you don’t need to spell it or write it or say it. Ok?
Nia: Ok, but can I tell my friends I know what it means?
Me: No! I mean, no, because they might not know what it means and their moms and dads won’t want them to know yet. You let their moms and dads tell them like I told you. You shouldn’t say the word because it’s not nice and you’ll get in big trouble if you say it. Your school will probably call mommy and daddy at work and you wouldn’t want that, right? I’m telling you what it means because I’m teaching you so you know and know not to say it. Ok?
Nia: Ok. How do you spell it again?
Me: Nope. I think we should be all finished talking about it because I said it way to many times just now and we should just be finished.

And deep breath. Did I do the right thing? I have no idea. I suppose I could have just said, “You don’t need to worry about it or say it and that’s all you need to know” but I want to be able to talk with the kids and not hide things from them. I also really appreciate that they come to us with questions and I hope it stays that way – pain in the ass or not.

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Mommy Mysteries

30 Sep

How did you do it, lady? How did you manage to stay so mom-like and proper around me as I grew up? I can’t help but wonder (and, heads up, some of these are TMI) how you managed to:

  • Watch what you wanted on tv even if it had adult tones to it? I remember the CBS Soaps and Hill Street Blues in the background. I’m lucky if I get to watch Top 20 Video Countdown on Saturday mornings.
  • Deal with how grown-up I played Barbies? Or is that why you never played Barbies with me? I understand. I don’t really love playing Barbies with Bean but I don’t know how to tell her no without making her feel bad. You never made me feel bad. I bet my storylines stressed you out. I know they would me if I heard Nia throwing Ken off a balcony because he cheated on her with her sister. (Maybe those Soaps sunk into my head?)
  • Hold your gas around me? Yes, I mean toots. I don’t ever remember you letting one rip when I was a little kid. I hope my kids can forget their mommy’s noisemakers. They usually cutely yell at me, “Mommy!” What?
  • (This one is TMI you can never unread.) Change your lady products without young me barging into the bathroom mid-change? Sure, locking the door seems so simple. Even if they don’t see the act in progress, they still see the product which prompts questions.”Why do you have a diaper, mommy?” Yes, I answered it without really answering it. “It’s not a diaper. It’s not for pee, it’s for something elsethatI’lltellyouaboutlater.”

I guess I have created at least one mystery. Just on another level.

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Scary Pants

27 Sep

The dark. Monsters under the bed, in the closet or waiting to grab your ankles as you walk up/down the open basement steps. Fire. Strangers. The vacuum cleaner. All are common fears we suffer through and torment ourselves with during childhood. Maybe yours, though, is not so common. Tonight, I discovered Nate’s unique dread. Sweatpants.

My word. The boy lost his stuff when I wanted him to try them on. These are a few of his protests through tears: “But I don’t like them!” “They’re too big for my body!””They’re just, they’re just, no!” “I want to wear my fast pants!”

I know he’s not really afraid of the sweatpants but his reaction sure made it seem that way. Maybe he’s just taking a stance against certain sports wear? Next time, I will attempt to introduce the sweatpants into the wardrobe a little more subtly. Say, in the dark? While telling him the sweatpants monsters will come out of the closet if he doesn’t wear them?

Never! Sometimes, I just need a little demented humor to help me deal with the parenting things I don’t know how to deal with. I mean, I’m pretty much the opposite of Nate. I like sweatpants so much, it’s scary.

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Too Much Skin for Sesame Street?

23 Sep

image

Whoa, I guess Katy Perry isn’t welcome in the PBS neighborhood. It seems “Sesame Street” has decided against airing the scantily clad Katy – or maybe it was her singing? – on PBS after getting complaints about it. I find this whole hoopla over what she was (not) wearing during her song and dance with the furry, red monster a riot.

Our kids see references to relationships and sex all around them every day. In their cartoons, male characters whistle and pant when a female character walks by. Often, those female characters are dressed very womanly – don’t tell me Princess Fiona’s dress didn’t accentuate her curves and cut a little low to reveal some ‘vege. Or, what about the Disney girls? Where was your problem with that? A crab telling a voiceless hottie how to “kiss the boy.” Why is Katy Perry in a skin-showing frock any worse during her two and a half minutes of screen time?

Sometimes, I think the reaction we have to things makes them a bigger deal than they actually are. My word. How much of any of it do you think your preschooler picks up on anyway? I’m sure that’s why my thoughts above never bothered you – those scenes are so subtle, right? Let’s say the kids don’t pick up on it – I’m sure many of us have something questionable from our childhood that we encountered and didn’t realize it how sexual or terrible it was. I watched Grease over and over again and sang along – not having any idea I was singing “pussy wagon” or the “chicks will cream.” Also, what was happening in the backseat of that car?

I find it hypocritical and confusing that, as a society, we have become accepting of so much around us that it just doesn’t make sense to me when we try to say, “Oh, hold up! That’s just wrong! But that over there – that lingerie ad, that music video, billboard, commercial, magazine cover, tv show – those are all ok.” Why? Because they aren’t aimed at the children? Well, unless you have them only watching “Sesame Street” (except for when Katy Perry was going to be on) and walking around with plugs in their ears and covering their eyes – they’ve certainly been around it. Try checking out with a child at the grocery store. While you unload your cart, their eyes are on the candy and the eye-candy on the covers of the mags. Nia actually moves the censor-shields out of the way to ask me why they’re covered.

Now, there’s an idea – talking to a child about why something was a certain way and why you think it should be different or not. Whatever. Watch Katy Perry and if they seem to mimic a behavior you don’t like, discuss it with them. Educate them. Help them grow into responsible, considerate adults who maybe won’t want to put the sexy dressed star of their time on a children’s show. Or maybe they will and it will just fine because – in the future – it will be sunny days and everything will be a-ok.

By the way, in case you’re wondering, I’m actually not a fan of her (lack of) attire on the appearance. I’m also disappointed in Elmo for not offering her a jacket. I thought that monster had manners. He could have taught Katy about dressing for the occasion.

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But He Loves Me

16 Sep

He is Caleb. He’s been her buddy since Kindergarten. He seems like a nice, young man. He makes her laugh. He asks her if she’s ok when she cries. Caleb.

I never would’ve found out that Nia and Caleb had moved from like to love (that’s what she tells me – that she loves him and he loves her) if it wasn’t for her trying to quickly get the “I love Nia” note from her backpack. She didn’t want to show me at first because she thought I was going to be concerned. When I told her it was ok, she allowed me into her love life and handed me the note, grinning. I told her it was sweet and that it was cute that he gave her a note. I also told her that I hoped they would still be friends even when he doesn’t write her notes anymore. She said, “But he will, momma. He loves me.”

Sweet girl, I’m sure he does. I’m sure he does.

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Homework Helper Needs Help

11 Sep

If I had to grade myself on how well I help Nia with her homework, I would give myself a C.

It’s funny because I never really minded homework as a student. I followed the directions, showed my work, wrote complete sentences and studied. I did OK+ in school. My parents could’ve had one of those honor roll bumper stickers that some people love to hate. I graduated in the top 20 of my high school class and magna cum laude at college. None of that matters though when you’re book smart. Everything I learned, I learned for the test. After the test, my brain couldn’t retrieve the info that helped me get smiley faces and A’s. It’s like it all got pushed out of my head to make way for useless movie and music knowledge.

Because I managed to wing it and get laughed at for being flighty, I was never really concerned about the missing parts of my mind. It wasn’t until I had to start helping Nia with her homework that I realized it was going to be an issue.

I’m so lucky she has a super smart brain in her pretty, Second Grade head. As I’m trying to help her, she usually tells me how to figure it out or explains the directions to me. What’s even worse is when her homework – that I helped with – comes back with the teacher’s red pen marks on it. I feel like I failed or let her down. When I quiz her on spelling words, she gets impatient waiting for me and starts writing the words off her memory. One recent homework hurdle goes something like this:

Me: The next word is where, I mean were, I mean we’re, I mean…
Nia: Momma! It’s where!
Me: Well, you have the word were on here too.
Nia: I know but where comes next. Which one do you want me to spell?
Me: What do you have written so far?
Nia: W.

Oh, Sweets, we have a long homework history to battle through ahead of us. I’m sure you will be teaching me a thing or hundred. I’m also very grateful for the genius brain I married. Andrew always knows the answer and jokingly advises Nia after hearing me try to explain something, “Yeah. Um. Nia, maybe we shouldn’t ask mommy questions about science.”

Fail.

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A Jug Tavern Festival is Just Right for Kids

11 Sep

It just sounds so wrong though. How could it be ok to take a seven and four-year-old to an event bearing such a name? Well, consider it one of those don’t judge a book lessons. Apparently, the name has nothing to do with alcohol or slang for female parts.

Fest Flying


Even so, I didn’t really care. It was a community shindig and we dig those. This one offered all the usuals – some bouncy things, pony rides, balloon animals (that popped before Nate got his to the car), shaved ice (that made a sticky mess when it spilled in the car), funnel cake, live music, overpriced but “awesome” kid entertainment (the kids loved flying high in the air), arts and crafts and tasty BBQ. That BBQ is what makes this festival a little different than those usuals though.

People from all over have set up fort here for a National BBQ Cook-Off. They’ve parked their suped-up RVs on the grounds, complete with satellite dishes sticking out of five-gallon buckets. The scenes surrounding the RVs were impressive. Some had TVs displaying a football game and others had tables and portable kitchens where older men prepped their pride and joy for the competition. All of them had massive smokers, pits and grills filled with various meat soaking in a secret sauce or dry rub. The smell of deliciousness hovered over the festival, making stomachs growl, mouths water and Nia and Nate worry about all the smoke. “Mommy! That smoke cloud is coming right to us!”

Seems kid-friendly enough for me.

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Surf, Sting, Sleepover and Some Other Super Stuff

6 Sep

Surf

Our recent trip to the beach showed us our children view the whole surf and sand experience very differently. We couldn’t get Nia out of the water and it took forever for Nate to finally get into the water. (Or even close to it.) Nate didn’t even want the “mud” on him.  (That’s what he called wet sand.)

Instead, for a large chunk of three days, he worked up the nerve to run lightning quick in the shallowest of water, cried some, chased and fed birds, built a few castles, played his video game and then, eventually – toward the end of our time – tackled and conquered his fear of the water.

Beach Beauty

Beached Boy

Cool Wave Rider

Brave, Unbeached Boy

Sting

As the pictures above show, our beach beauty couldn’t get enough of the waves. Even a nasty jellyfish sting didn’t keep her sidelined for long. A lifeguard saw Andrew carrying her as though something was wrong and gave us some “Jellyfish Squish” spray. The sting beached her for a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels and that’s about it. She went right back in the water and acted like we were making too big of a fuss out of it.

Sweets Gets Stung

Chocolate Makes It All Better

Sleepover

This adventure marked the first time Nia and Nate shared a room. It featured two twin beds and a television that was almost as big of a deal as the beach. (They don’t have tv’s in their rooms.) The first night was a bit of a challenge for all of us. We let them watch some tv but then after that we heard quite a bit of commotion and then Nate came crying out of the room. When all the drama was calm, he informed us he had been building a “bridge” from his bed to Nia’s bed when he slipped and hurt himself on the bed. It’s all fun and games until …

Nate's Bed Bridge

Some Other Super Stuff

This beach trip also offered some great quality time with friends and a first for Nate.

We had such a wonderful time visiting with the Heidel family, who sacrificed their college’s opening weekend football game to spend Saturday at the beach with us. (Did I mention they are great friends?)

Snacks are better with buds at the beach.

After a day at the beach, we enjoyed dinner, drinks and caught a few innings of the Savannah Sand Gnats’ game. This is where Nate’s first comes in. He’s never seen a professional fireworks show before. This weekend though, he experienced two of them. One after the Gnats’ game and the other while sitting on the beach in celebration of the Labor Day weekend.

Enjoying the Fireworks

Nia also got a very special treat. One of her bestest buds ever, Miss Avery, visited us. Nia and Avery were basically born to be friends. Exactly a month apart, they were side by side crib mates at daycare and became inseparable until we moved away. The time and miles apart have not hurt their friendship at all. They picked up right where they left off and immediately began playing pretend “iCarly” while hitting the waves.

Reunited Friends

Our mini-vacation to the beach was so nice and memorable, Andrew was already, seriously, asking when we could go back. Nate, on the other hand, was ready to head home. Nia was just fine whatever we decided (as long as she’s getting a souvenir or two). Me? Well, I’m happy just making memories with them – even if one of them involves a jellyfish.

Happy Beach Fam

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Better Than Turbo Jets

29 Aug

What happens when you take 100% polyester shorts and put them on an incredibly intense four-year-old? You get speed you would not expect to come from such a small body. (Go to about :30 in to see him take off.)

Nate dubs them his “fast pants” because he believes they help him run faster. He wants to wear them everywhere. We’ve even planned for it – buying one pair for almost every day of the week –

Assortment of Fast Pants

I tell him his shorts aren’t what makes him fast but he won’t hear it. Probably because he doesn’t stand still long enough for me to explain it to him.

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Sick Days

28 Aug

Nate recently had a run-in with some germs. The germs were unwelcome but the sick days together were not. I cherish the time we got to spend together and the memories that were made.

  • I learned that while many kids say boy and boat starts with the letter B, Nate prefers to use baseball teams to learn his sounds and letters. “Braves and Brewers start with B!”
  • Nate is perfectly content watching baseball highlights on “Quick Pitch” over and over again – even if it’s repeats. I actually think he likes it more because he feels proud knowing what’s going to happen.
  • Even when he’s sick, he tries to act out baseball. I told him he wasn’t allowed to run so he walked. Then, I noticed he wasn’t in the living room and that his bedroom door was closed. When I opened it, I found him with his Braves hat and glove on, lying on his belly with his gloved arm stretched out like he just dove to catch a ball. He looked so guilty and hilarious.
  • The boy can play the board game “Memory” continually. He is awesome at it. A champion. (And I am trying to win.)
  • He is such a comforting cuddler.

Sicky, Sleepy Boy

I’m glad Na-Nate is feeling better and hated he was sick but I also can’t help be a little thankful for the precious time we spent together.

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