Category: BC (beloved child the elder)

the inner light

Posted on May 13, 2008 by wrekehavoc

there’s a strange yoga/martial arts session taking place in my house as i type. BC is teaching jools to stand with his hands together (though when i looked at him and said namaste, master BC told master jools not to say that.)

BC, fed up with jools’ (typical for a nearly-five year old boy’s) behavior, has decided to create a reward system. (never mind any of the disciplinary systems i’ve set up over the past two or three years.) SHE gets to decide whether he’s behaving. SHE gets to make the rules of this little world, including warnings and stickers. for my part, apparently, i get to contribute $1 to a fund for a reward for the dude if he does what he’s told. by HER.

oh dear.

i understand her frustration. raising a boy is infinitely different from raising a girl. where BC was an amazing listener and a child who behaved in a seemingly perfect way from a very young age, jools is an active little dude who doesn’t have a ton of patience for sitting and listening to anyone for a long period of time. he’s quick to whack her, punch to her judy, and make things physical fast.

but he’s also infinitely easier in other ways. the boy laughs when he gets shots, unlike the girl who needs to be physically restrained when anything needs to pierce her skin. the boy is incredibly merry and light hearted, unlike my tween girl, who is perched, cautiously looking over into the hormonal abyss.

she can’t grasp that he’s different from her. and i bet she’ll be a mystery to him as soon as he becomes more aware of her. but i’ve got both of their numbers. still, i let them explore each other’s personalities, their inner light. in between the never-ending fights, they have these crazy moments where they start to meet each other as people. its delightful as long as it lasts.

so i’ll let girlfriend set up this new “disciplinary” system, peaceable as she wants to make it. he seems willing at first blush, to submit, if only because he loves the time he has his sister’s undivided attention. forgive me if i’m a skeptic. it’s not like i haven’t tried this before. but as long as no yogis are harmed in the process, i’m cool.

they’ve laid out my exercise mat and she is instructing him to do some move that involves a soccer ball but which looks like some funky calisthenics. it won’t last. after all, he’s looking longingly at his bright green Star Wars light saber.

this is a stretch, but i’m guessing that darth vader probably doesn’t have a mantra.

remedy

Posted on May 8, 2008 by wrekehavoc

our house is stress central.

one child had to get two immunizations yesterday. a child who has a limited pain threshold. i won’t mention names, but it’s a girl child. a girl child who was star of the week one minute but then not necessarily star of the pediatrician’s office the next. her hand started hurting her, along with the shot sites. tylenol was not helping. my brother-the-doctor indicated that perhaps a nerve was hit, but not a biggie. still, not a pretty afternoon.

one spouse had to work. he had to work a lot. he had to work a lot again. he called at 4:45 pm to share that we needed to go downtown to pick up one other child at school. school ends at 6 p.m. this is the height of DC rush hour, coming AND going. am i happy yet?

no. not hardly.

downtown we drove in a rush, the unhappy and now-in-pain immunized person and i. we made it in record time. my parking pass was confiscated, as i need a new 2008 one. it is now may. but nice security people let me park anyway, as the worst security threat we pose is one girl reenacting the exorcist. (i’ll let you wonder which one. the answer is not as simple as it might seem.)

we make it to one hellboy’s school. a hellboy who apparently as of late has made a career of knocking around some of the toddlers in the morning. (just cause.) someone is acting out. someone who might be a pissed-off palooka. but knocking babies around like inflatable punching bags is unacceptable behavior around here.

fortunately, today was not a punching-other-children sort of day. it was merely a spending-time-holding-hands-with-my-main-girlfriend sort of day. yes. the boy is in love. and he’s in love with a girl named condoleezza.

not this one (though i suspect she may be named for her. but i don’t know for certain.) ah. only in DC.

but he listened. and he behaved.

am i happy yet?

not quite. but a little better.

we three rush home, rushing in a rush hour way. which means not exactly speeding down constitution avenue. it doesn’t help that the woman driving in front of me is driving like hunter s. thompson is her co-pilot. wouldn’t it be funny if we got home and daddy’s car was in the driveway? BC joked.

don’t push me, little girl.

of course, BS wasn’t home when we got home. and i had not even cooked dinner. when it’s after 6 and dinner isn’t even started, and people are climbing the walls in search of something edible, it is time to visit mr. freezer to see what magic he holds. lucky for me, there was a wegmans veggie lasagna languishing, ever since i bought it and BS said: ew. no one is going to eat THAT. tough times call for tough measures. (and i say that in this house, if you’re not home, you don’t get to pick dinner.) that sucker was going in the microwave.

miraculously, the kids loved it. we’re talking BC, aka miss picky-picky of the western world, asked for seconds. the only criticism i got about it was that there were carrots in it, according to jools. (i don’t have the heart to tell them that there was also spinach and mushrooms. jools loves them, but BC hates both of those.)

am i happy yet? getting closer.

i get kids bathed; i read some chapters of some inscrutable Bionicle book we found at the elementary school fair last weekend. i medicate a certain older child with the zillion different things she requires thanks to her magical lungs… and immunizations. in case i have forgotten, she is IN PAIN. she CAN’T MOVE HER ARMS.

do all moms have days like this?

i start hellboy into bed. it’s 8:00. BS comes home.

DADDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

well, so much for that mission accomplished. at this point, BS is speaking in monosyllabic grunts. he has had a long day. he has had a long, not-so-good day. he has had a long, not-so-good, and apparently hungry day. did you eat yet? i believe he grunted in the negative. enjoy the lasagna!

i get the boy into bed. i get the girl into bed. she’s in pain, so i get her something from the freezer to help at least one of her arms. in vain, of course.

BS says goodnight to the girl. BS says goodnight to the boy. after a few minutes of decomposing, as we call it in this house, BS announces he’s going to bed.

fabulous.

meanwhile, there’s one little girl who can’t sleep. in the morning, she’ll let me know that she was UP. ALL. NIGHT. but i waited, and i waited until she fell asleep before i went up to bed. so i know she was at least asleep for 30 seconds of the night.

on the bright side, little man went to sleep like a champ.

lately, i am so exhausted. i feel completely wrung out. tomorrow, i go for some more IVIG, and hopefully that will help me keep from getting sick. see, when i get wrung out, i get sick. no one around here gets that. moms are supposed to just keep going and going and going. but i have to just stop sometimes. if i don’t stop some times, i will stop. for good.

fortunately, this morning, i awoke and thought about a little boy in this house who likes to sing a certain song. how BS found out about this group, i don’t know. but jools is completely hooked on the hook of this song, called Nth Degree.

i found it on youtube. and everyone gathered around. even BS.

and suddenly, there was the remedy. it was just a few minutes, but we actually were all smiling. we were all happy.

even me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_vhMhm9euT8&hl=en

and that dang bird is still trying to get into our house.

baby i'm a star

Posted on May 7, 2008 by wrekehavoc

this week, miss thang is the classroom star of the week.

the kids listened with rapt attention about how girlfriend has been in the washington post (twice!), likes to play softball, has an annoying little brother (who, contrary to what one child thought, is not wearing a skirt in the picture on the board), has pet a snake at busch gardens (in tampa, not williamsburg), has walked the plank on a pirate ship off grand cayman (where’s the plank? the boys wanted to know), has a bunny named ba-ba (because that’s how she pronounced it back then, even though he’s really Pat The Bunny), has a poem that took second prize at the county fair, and knows that there’s a place called hell. in grand cayman.

(her teacher promised to direct all parent inquiries about BC’s use of a bad word to me.)

she also showed a picture of herself at club med in florida. and, of course, we showed the video of her dancing with X. the resident beatles fan in the class came up to me afterwards. that’s hard rock! he annouced authoritatively.

and of course, i am a music snob to the end, even with a nine year old. no, sweetie, it’s punk. hard rock leans more toward metal.

he looked at me slightly puzzled. i know what he was thinking: uh, yeah BC’s mom. whatever.

anyway, madam did a great job answering questions and taking comments. of course, every day, she’s a star around here. along with hellboy, of course.

not a bad life, eh?

chocolate cake

Posted on May 2, 2008 by wrekehavoc

mamabird has inspired me to share a cake picture, just as she did earlier this week.

there’s a cake baking contest at BC’s school, part of the elementary school fair cakewalk program. the kids play a sort of musical chairs, and the winner of each round gets to pick a cake from the voluminous bunch of cakes. there’s also an award for best cake in each grade.

BC and i were looking through our latest Family Fun magazine and were inspired by a little food craft. we decided to make it into a cake.

presenting: our sushi cake!

pity someone probably won’t appreciate it. but it sure was fun to make!

and today, we’ll be making another cake, as the class with the most cakes contributed wins an ice cream party.

can you say: sugar, sugar, SUGAR!

my girl

Posted on April 30, 2008 by wrekehavoc

of course, resolution is necessary after a post like that, is it not?

i picked someone up from school today. who? oh, i dunno. some blustery nine year old girl. and before i could open my mouth, the apologies spilled out, along with a little bouquet of buttercups she had collected and taped together. for me.

mom, i’m so very, very sorry. i cried as i tried to walk the second mile because you weren’t there. i was the only one who didn’t finish three miles.

of course, the human is not easily separated from the mother. the human was furious at being treated like crap. the mother was feeling terrible because she made her girl cry, and she never, ever likes to do that. but she is the mother, not the friend. and she has to buck up at times, as it is her job to teach.

i took a deep breath. and i put my arm around her.

i’m sorry you were upset. i was upset, too. you really hurt my feelings when you dismissed me.

those big eyes, the same ones her dad has, glanced upward at me, slowly and sadly. mama, you misunderstood. i thought you wouldn’t want to do the stretches, so i was telling you to go away over to the other side so you wouldn’t have to do stretches.

another deep breath. pull the other one, little girl. i need to stretch just as much as anyone else, honey. you know, BC, i hate running. i came here because you asked me. and then, when you told me to stand on the other side, i was very angry. i don’t need to do these things; i do them because you ask me to. if you don’t want me there, don’t ask me. i have plenty of other things to do.

girlfriend is not a teary-deary like her mom. it was her turn to take a breath. i know, i know. i’m really, really sorry.

okay honey. i was about to tear up. that’s my job. i love you, even when i’m upset with you or mad at you. you’re my girl, and i love you no matter what.

we smiled at each other. and we proceeded on with the rest of our afternoon. we were together, and we were happy. i was happy. i needed to be happy, and sometimes, the way into unhappiness for me is also my way out: my children.

sometimes, i like to milk an apology for all it’s worth by adding something random for which my child ought to be thankful. is it a jewish mother thing? no. a me thing? probably. i’m so evil.

so tonight was no different. i pulled up youtube, as madame was in a dancing mood and we love to dance around here.

i pulled up some pink floyd. a n c i e n t pink floyd. the floyd BS doesn’t like, thanks to the inclusion of one syd barrett, a guy i adore not just because he would probably be secret boyfriend material for me (if he were: 1) about 40 years younger; 2) not mentally fried; and 3) not dead) because he truly is one crazy diamond. and i started in.

now see, if you didn’t already have a cousin named emily, you might have been named emily, all because of this song.

BC pricked up her ears and listened to the weird psychedelia. EWWWWW! she squealed. did she hate it? were the roaming piano lines, the groovy organ runs, the sudden percussive loudness too much for her? was i going to squeeze out another you’re the best mom in the world; thank you for not naming me after a crazy, drugged-out syd barrett song?

nope. girlfriend proceeded to do a floaty, 1960s swim move. and she beamed her thousand watt smile my way.

that’s my girl.

about last night

Posted on April 30, 2008 by wrekehavoc

about last night: i wrote an absolutely out-and-out scathing post, a post about how angry i am. it was so screamingly angry that i deleted it.

days upon days upon days of little sleep are adding up to one major wiped-out woman on the verge of something. i couldn’t even sleep last night, even though the kids were in bed. i am just so wound up. so many people in this house are not sleeping for one reason or another. and when you’re the mom, you end up being the catcher of all this sleep deprivation, by default. even the best dads might sleep through things, but moms never do, unless they have been drugged or killed.

so there i was on the computer, and i was bombarded with messages about mother’s day: buy mom flowers. send mom a card. get mom jewelry. take mom out for a nice meal. now, i have no quarrel with getting my mother or my mother in law some token of appreciation for the day, and i certainly appreciate the cards and sometimes unidentifiable objets d’arte that my children make for me.

but there are times like today, yesterday, the day before, all last week… times when i just feel like everyone is sucking the lifeblood out of me. i work for my family. i work for the house. i work for the fucking WORLD. 24/7, whether it’s doing the dishes, or dealing with illness, or handling my exploding home, or helping my kids navigate through some crisis or another. i don’t get paid for it. i don’t get thanked for it. i sometimes don’t even think people realize what i do. but it’s all down to me. i am in charge of directing my family’s life.

and no one works for me.

in short, i don’t want mother’s day. i don’t need jewelry. i don’t need to go to the International Fucking House Of Putrid Food. and i don’t want any flowers.

what i want is mother’s life.

i don’t want to be appreciated on one day. i want to be appreciated every single day. i want people to notice that i never get a day off, much less a weekend. and i’m glad to do it, even though it wasn’t necessarily my first career choice. i am grateful i get to do it, too, all right? but i wonder sometimes whether it was the right choice for me.

the other day, we were talking about clothing, and BC said oh mama, you don’t need to ever wear suits. you are just not the suit kind. this child has no recollection of a time when i worked outside the home and wore something beyond sweats or jeans. this child thinks i live and breathe for her. and, through the choices i have made, helped along by my health predicament, i guess i do. or have done.and of course, i will continue to do so.

but i often wonder what sort of example i am setting for her. yes, dear: study hard, get a masters degree, and you, too, can become the floor upon which your family walks.

and of course, if i complain, i am ungrateful. ungrateful that there is a roof over my head, food on my table, and IVIG in my veins. what a shallow bitch, one might say. do you know that Susie or Sally have it SO. MUCH. WORSE. THAN. YOU. (yes. i know. thanks.)

but is self-preservation an unworthy goal?

i have just come from BC’s school. their big 5k training run is this morning; and while BS is running with BC on race day, BC asked me if i would run with her this morning. parents are not required this morning, but she wanted me to run with her. let me point out for the record: i hate running. but, i got suited up, rushed my kishkes around, and drove her there at 7:50 in the ayem. we get there — there must be about 50 girls there plus some parents. and there’s a huge circle being formed. girlfriend runs over to one of her friends as they make the circle. i walk over to stand beside her. no, mom, she says. you stand over there, and she points to siberia on the other side of this tremendous circle. no other moms or dads are being banished. they are all standing next to their respective daughters.something inside me just snapped.

nope, i replied. i’ll see you later then. good bye! and i walked away. and i left.

so yes, add that to the collection of why i am a bad mother.i’m not going to be treated like shit by any nine year old. i am not going to be treated like shit by any 40-something year olds, either. in short, i am no longer taking shit from anyone out there, related or not.

i am tired, tired and extremely angry. and appreciating me one day in may, a day where i will have woken up all cranky and cold because i will have slept overnight in a cabin devoid of electricity and indoor plumbing, courtesy of my little Girl Scout, will probably be too little too late. i appreciate every single person around me; at least, i appreciate the ones i’m related to — and certainly quite a few to whom i am not.
appreciate me now.

the letter

Posted on April 28, 2008 by wrekehavoc

Dear Fairfax Hospital Administrator:

Today, my child went to INOVA FFX Hospital for Children. She had both a CT scan and an upper GI. We arrived a little early just because as my child could neither eat nor drink, I thought it best that we just get to the hospital. The people in the CT department were stellar: they got my child in and out right away, including her paperwork for the upper GI, which had to be done through pediatric radiology.

We arrived at about 9:15 in pediatric radiology. We checked in, and my daughter had the pleasure of overhearing the initial woman who greeted us complain to her coworkers about how much she didn’t like working there. That woman left for parts unknown, and another lady took her place, a lady who apparently didn’t get the message that we were there. We sat. We sat. At 10:30, after watching several people get taken before us, I went up to the desk. The woman had no earthly idea we had been there and were waiting. She called the GI folks and explained what I had told her, although she provided misinformation — making it sound like we had just arrived when we had been there for a long time already — and I had to continue to explain to her that we HAD BEEN THERE for NEARLY 90 MINUTES, waiting. Once the GI tech came out, the tech apologized profusely, stating that they HAD BEEN WAITING FOR US FOR A LONG TIME. They had no idea we were waiting.

I think the best part about the experience was how the receptionist broke out a big tub of spaghetti at about 10:15, which was just near the jar of candy in front her her window. My daughter, who had not eaten since 9 pm last night, nearly burst into tears, she was so hungry. In a room where several children may not eat or drink before their tests, how on earth does that demonstrate any sort of empathy for the children in the waiting room?

I actually chose to bring my daughter to Fairfax Hospital for tests, as I was under the impression that FFX specifically knows how to treat children with respect. It actually costs me more to do so. My child — at AGE 9 — has now asked me: HOW COULD YOU TAKE ME THERE? I NEVER WANT TO GO TO FAIRFAX HOSPITAL AGAIN! This is a child who has been to Arlington Hospital as well as other medical facilities. She is quite upset with me and with the entire experience. Frankly, I cannot blame her.

The doctors and the techs we encountered were professional and kind to my child. Pity your administrative staff cannot act accordingly.

Yours,

Wreke

hanging on the telephone

Posted on April 25, 2008 by wrekehavoc

dear fairfax inova hospital,

press 1 if you want this in english –>

press 2 if you’re annoyed, press 3 if you’re upset, press 4 if you feel like you want to hurt someone –>

to be sure, it is not your fault that i am having a week from hell. i don’t blame you for my flooded basement, for the response time of the remediation people, or even for my allergies, which seem to have taken on a life of their own.

but i do wonder whether anyone is actually at work there.

my child has some testing to do on monday at your facility. it is difficult enough to face the fact that she is not exactly the happiest person when dealing with any medical procedures whatsoever. (i personally can’t wait ’til i tell her she can’t eat until lunchtime on monday.) in fact, i am specifically taking her to your facility precisely because you deal so well with children during such endeavors. your reputation precedes you.

on wednesday afternoon, someone left a message to preregister my child prior to the procedures. for reasons i do not understand, they left this message on my husband’s voicemail at work. fortunately, my husband, always a guy on-the-job, informed me of this early thursday morning. i called the number and hit someone’s voicemail; only, too bad for me. the voicemail doesn’t identify itself as debra from inova fairfax or even debra, period. it’s just a robo-voicemail-bot. the first three digits of this telephone number don’t even match the numbers of most of the numbers i have since dialed. i could be calling someone at molestors-r-us for all i know with my baby’s info. i think not.

press 5 if you want to leave a helpful, though basic, tip to people who are part of a large corporate entity->

[if it’s a business phone, you ought to leave your name and business info, at the very least, on your voicemail.]

so i went to your website. it should be easy to get a phone number from there, right?

wrong.

basically, i was left with the main hospital number.

press 6 if you are on the verge of volunteering to redesign a corporate entity’s website ->

literally all thursday afternoon, after giving up on hearing from debra, i spent my time bouncing from place to place in your phone system. (though i should say that geraldine, the main operator, is very nice.) so much fun to be had, including being given erroneous information, such as that there’s no way possible my child can be having a procedure, as there’s no pediatric endoscopist available that day. (did anyone HEAR ME? the girl is not getting scoped! she’s getting SCREENED. ARRRRGH.)

lucky for me, of course, i spent the better part of yesterday WAITING FOR THE REMEDIATION GUY, so i had NOTHING BETTER TO DO THAN SIT AND PLAY PHONE TAG!

so this morning, because i really love to hear on-hold muzak, i thought i’d try again. (that plus the fact that i have no earthly idea where the hell we are supposed to go.) i tried my new old friend geraldine, who sent me to the wrong place again, only this time, the person on the line gave me a few numbers to try, including a supervisor. amazingly, though, no one is around (only the supervisor gives her name and business on the voicemail, btw). i called the lady back and politely asked her whether anyone besides herself was at work that morning. after our giggles, i got off the phone and wondered what the hell i was going to do.

lightbulb moment: i found the initial scheduling number (thank Dog), and tried there. they don’t preregister there, but maybe, just maybe, they can at least tell me where to show up? of course, there’s more on-hold time:

[we are sorry for the delay. please continue to hold until our next available staff member can be with you.]

press 7 if you are sick of our on-hold muzak->

then finally, after enough time has elapsed for me to clean out the receipts in my wallet and cook a turkey breast, a live human. a live human whom i cannot HEAR. i am not deaf; she just is speaking rather softly.

press 8 if you are on the edge->

so i sit. perfectly still. and i strain to listen to her, best as i can. yes, there’s a record of your daughter’s tests…no, you are already registered; we did that when you set up the appointment. why did that person call you? did they need to verify your insurance?

press nine if you feel your blood about to shoot out the top of your head->

i don’t actually know why the person called. the first three digits of the telephone number are very different from yours.

silence.

uhm. well, let’s hope it was to verify insurance. but here’s where you go on monday…

so administrators at fairfax, i realize there are plenty of insane people out there, and you’re probably reticent to share phone numbers with the public. but people, we need numbers. at least main ones. most businesses have a minimum level of transparency for their customers: you know, so we can actually call you with our business?

and the hours i spent on the phone? i’ll share my hourly rate. you just take that off my bill and we’ll call it even, k?

yours,

wreke

centerfield

Posted on April 19, 2008 by wrekehavoc

this may come as a huge surprise to you folks out there, but i’m a terrible human being. seriously.

and it’s all because of softball.

i grew up with two older brothers; thus, it stands to reason that i had no choice but to learn how to play baseball. if i wanted to go out and play with them, that’s what they were doing. i learned to catch and throw and bat early on, and i wasn’t half bad. sadly, they didn’t let girls in little league back then, so my career was confined to the camp softball team, where i was the only girl who made first string and played on the traveling team.

i managed the boys baseball team in intermediate school, which taught me the fine art of baseball scoring. it also taught me that 13 year old boys like to put their cups over your face and yell air raid!!! thank G-d i had no idea where the cup went back then — how did i not know is a wonder unto itself, considering the aforementioned brothers. but it’s a blessing that i did not know where that plastic thingy had been or else i would have had a few projectile vomiting episodes.

when high school rolled around, i was set to be on the team when i ended up with my thumb in a cast, thanks to an overzealous gym teacher who set me in on a game of kill the guy with the ball. as the only girl, with the JV football captain, the JV basketball captain, and other athletic boys playing, i knew i had to be twice as tough; and i had the ball — i really, r e a l l y had it. i was woman, hear me ROAR! but then, too bad for me: it was pulled out of my death grip, leaving me with a thumb that actually was bent in a position that G-d had never meant it to be.

(i’ll never forget the gym teacher yelling at me: c’mon wreke, take it like a man! i thought, uhm, hello? i’m a GIRL. a girl with a thumb hanging off? fortunately, one of the boys told the teacher that i should probably see the nurse.)

a cast made pitching difficult, and after awhile, i realized i was not ready or willing to make the time commitment to softball. besides, they ran a zillion laps, and while i was a decent sprinter in my day, i was never a long-distance runner. check, please!

so fast forward to today. i have not played any softball in a long while. (i used to play with a team on the mall that played around the washington monument, but 9-11 put a major cramp on all of that anyway.) i have to live somewhat vicariously through my own children, poor things.

BC has been playing for a few years, playing being an interesting choice of words. if she’s covering third, she’ll greet you as you run to the bag and probably offer some hors d’oeuvres. she may even start drawing in the dirt with her free hand if it gets too dull out there, which it does, as few girls seem to be hitting very much yet. i cheer her on, in between bouts of hysteria as i watch jools, who could be running onto the highway, climbing onto the school rooftop, or dousing himself at the water fountain with the older boys.

but it’s hard.

i watch all the girls as they stand and wait for the ball. somehow, i think they all expect it to magically make a path precisely to their person and then leap up into their gloves. run up to the ball and get it? i think not! pay attention to the game? if i feel like it and i’m not busy looking at the dandelions.

i can see now how i had a clear advantage in this department: i had brothers, brothers who taught me that i had no choice but to either go after the damn ball or else get the hell out of the way. additionally, some of the boys on the camp team didn’t like me just because i was a girl. but i was there to play, not make friends. and i played, and sometimes, i would even get a little grudging respect, which felt very, very sweet.

as i am a woman who attended a womens college, this is going to sound odd: but i wonder sometimes whether we do ourselves a disservice through gender segregation? if i had stuck only with my girl friends, i would never have gotten tougher, and not just in sports, either. i’m not discounting at all the contributions of girl friends — lord knows, i adore mine. but at a young age, there was something of value spending time with boys.

back in my day, they segregated the school playground: boys on one side, girls on the other. in one of the very few times i ever got in trouble in my entire scholastic career, i was banished for a week from the playground because of a terrible, awful thing i did: i played with the boys on the boys’ side. i am glad that this is no longer a practice at BC’s school. i suspect she is not playing with the boys at her age, if only because she hasn’t grown up with older boys. that’s ok. as long as she has the opportunity, i can live with that.

oh, and my punishment? well, they wanted me to sit on the pavement every single day for a week. in one of the great deus ex mama moments ever, my mother, a teacher at that school, suggested to the principal that my sentence be commuted to the library, where i could at least sit and read for the week. which mercifully, i did. (she thought it was a stupid rule, too, i guess.)

i love that BC is active and playing and having fun. and the girls on her team are so sweet! but there is a part of me that wonders whether the girls are so passive on the field precisely because they are just playing with other girls.

please, G-d, tell me i’m wrong or that a change is a’comin’. i don’t think i can take another season of daisy chains.

bungle in the jungle

Posted on April 3, 2008 by wrekehavoc

BS has returned! the bat is gone! all’s right with our little world! alert the media! and yet here i am, still focusing on wildlife. go figure.

we have been steve irwin fans since i-dunno-when. BS and i called him dingo boy; and we loved to watch him chase animals all over the place. i especially remember whenever his wife terri entered the picture. when i was pregnant with BC back in 1998, she was pregnant with bindi. we used to hoot and howl whenever clueless steve would put terri’s life in danger, asking her to do things tough for a normal person, let alone a person in the family way: c’mon ter, let’s scale this cliff and make our way down into the [insert scary, dangerous animal type here]-infested area! yep. the only scale i was near was the OBGYN’s at that point; and the only danger i would consider putting myself into was fighting someone at the supermarket for the last pint of chubby hubby.

i loved the fact that the irwin’s two kids were the same ages as mine. and i was wildly astonished by the poise with which bindi spoke at her dad’s funeral. she is an articulate young lady with an apparent passion for animals, though there are times on her kid’s show that she seems like she might be turning into some sort of hyper-energetic, disney-fied being. i love this family, and i really want to root for them.

that’s why i am so sad to read about bob irwin, steve’s dad, leaving the australia zoo. bob, as you might know, is the actual founder of the australia zoo. he not only has lost his son, steve, but i believe he has also lost his first wife. terri denies any sort of family feud, but you have to wonder what exactly would make a man walk away from something he built up from nothing, especially in a time when terri is being sued. there are reports that terri is trying to make the zoo a disney-like destination, with hotels and spas. while several media outlets were willing to pay him for an exclusive interview, bob chose to give his one and only interview, for free, to the aussie ABC. it’s all so strange and somewhat suspicious.

another thing i wonder about: there’s an awful lot of attention on bindi. the girl is clearly being groomed to follow in her father’s footsteps. you have to wonder whether she is missing out on a regular childhood, complete with opportunities to explore other interests. who knows: she could be the next best painter, brain surgeon, poet. i’m sure there’s a certain internal pressure at work here — the good and obedient child wants to do whatever she can do to honor her father’s legacy. but at what cost to herself?

oh, and what about bob? you know, the little four-year-old dude? with all the attention paid to his sister, what does that mean for him? does he absolutely hate his sister? is he jealous?

i hate to watch families implode. especially this one.