BC (beloved child the elder) – Page 27

Category: BC (beloved child the elder)

next year in jerusalem. or the Y. i care not.

Posted on June 7, 2006 by wrekehavoc

jools’ birthday party was sunday. i don’t which was the greater challenge: handling several three year olds in my home, or handling one 40-something-grouch who wanted to apparently clean the house so well prior to the blessed event that he nearly went apoplectic in the process.

but i’ll stick to the party. for now.

six friends ultimately showed up for joolsfest 2006. the theme: firetrucks. i made a big firetruck poster and BC made little wheels for a “pin the wheels on the firetruck game.” i borrowed a few really terrific firetruck-related books from the library to read to the tots. jools, BC, and i painted giant cardboard boxes so that kids might climb in and out of them. too unsure of my baking skills, i bought a fancy cake at el Gigante – no firetrucks, but plenty of regular Tonka trucks on top of the cake. in short, you’d think i was somewhat prepared, in spite of what my husband believed. but for all that effort, i could have simply sat on my ass and picked my nose, for all the kids cared.

newsflash: three year olds are perfectly happy to run around and play with someone else’s toys.

it does make me wonder about all the parents who are hiring birthday party entertainers for the pre-preschooler set.

anywho, the kids had a good time. i only wish that I took pictures! i was so crazed and involved that i neglected that critical duty. (one more reason I will be in the particular circle of hell reserved for bad moms.) i think its safe to say, though, that jools had a wonderful day. i hope the other kids had fun, too, despite the abandonment of formal party games.

meanwhile, BC is distressed because one of the boys demolished a baby toy of her’s. Mind you, she hasn’t played with that thing in, oh, five years at least; but when she discovered dinosaur heads missing, she wailed for a half hour. (no exaggeration. sadly.) yep. it isn’t a party until something has been broken. i’m not bothered by it, but i’m trying
to frame this episode as a teachable moment for her – “things are replaceable, people aren’t.”

the YMCA is looking real good for next year’s fete.

::phew::

Posted on May 25, 2006 by wrekehavoc

BC is feeling under the weather today and is home from school. my work from home today is punctuated by a slew of doctors’ visits. BC has been joining me for each one. one was a visit to the gynecologist (I’m OKAY!) to check out some pain i am having in my lower abdomen. most likely, these are caused by, you guessed it, muscles loosened by that wonder drug, prednisone. but just to be safe, the gyn is doing a sonogram of my abdomen.

the staff all fawned over BC, which she lurved. she had fun playing with the stirrups while we waited for the doctor (who was 1.25 hours behind schedule, i would add) to arrive. i saw her peeking up on the wall, where there was a poster with female internal organs (shall we say) for all the world to see. i was waiting for the inevitable questions to happen. they didn’t. but in the end, the word “sonogram” stuck in our collective heads.

so we’re driving home and talking about the visit. we’re so late that we also laugh at the fact that we will have to turn right around and go to my physical therapy appointment. “do you have any questions about all of this?” i asked, praying we weren’t going to revisit the poster from the gyn’s wall.

“yes, i do, mama.”

“what?”

“is it a boy or a girl?” she asked.

“WHAT???” i nearly drove off the road. “i mean, what do you mean, honey?” i asked, gulping.

“your next doctor at PT – is it a boy or a girl?” she asked again.

talk about your saving graces.

making scents

Posted on May 2, 2006 by wrekehavoc

last night, while drying off after taking what seemed like a thousand-year shower, BC turned to me and asked, “mama, do i smell bad?” clearly, my delightful little seven and a half year old is ready to embark on those lovely questions which must never be answered truthfully — questions like “does this dress make me look fat?” and “do you love me?”

she smelled divine, like a little blueberry, thanks to the half-gallon of shampoo she poured on her head, her body, and probably on the walls of the shower. “why are you asking me that?” i asked in return.

“adriana told me i smelled bad,” she said with a pout. i know a lot of BC’s little friends. this name was new to me.

“who is adriana?”

“she’s one of the more “fashionable” (she said while putting little quotation marks in the air – has she learned quotation marks yet?) girls in school.”

“well, i don’t know much about her, but you don’t smell bad, and i would tell you if you did, now, wouldn’t i?”

“yes, mama.”

“what a mean thing for someone to say, that you smell bad. is this girl someone you want to be friends with?”

BC sighed. “well, she was nice to me later on this afternoon. she hangs out with a bunch of other girls.”

“well, i don’t need to be around anyone who tells me i smell bad. if she starts being nice to you, that’s one thing. if she tells you that you smell, well, i would just tell her that you aren’t interested in talking to her unless she has something nice to say.”

“mama, do i smell?”

“honey, not today. ”

yep. teen angst. it starts at seven now.

shopping with my seven year old grandmother

Posted on February 4, 2006 by wrekehavoc

tonight is the coveted snowflake ball, a big dress-up-do for brownies and their significant daddies. BS even went out and bought her a corsage for the occasion (one parent informed him that she would be the only one without one if he neglected this, thus suffering shame and disappointing and ending up on an analyst’s couch at 30.) BC is very excited about attending, although she really didn’t have a thing to wear for the blessed event. we went tosyms this afternoon (because an educated consumer is their best customer, but me, i’m just trying to avoid the mall maelstrom) figuring we’d find shoes, tights, and maybe even a dress.

miss thang found two fancy-shmancy bonnie jean spring/summer dresses, two pair of tights, a pair of black patent leather shoes, and a purse to match. (when you’re seven, you see, you are seasonless and can get away with sleeveless thingies in february.) as the dresses were both $19.99 a piece, i figured, aw, what the hell. she has her cousin’s communion later this spring, so she should be able to wear the other then. one dress is a drop waist pink eyelet number with lots of flounces. “mama,” she said, “i love this dress, but it doesn’t t w i r l.” twirling, you see, is a very important criteria for a dress. the other dress has a funky, 1960s vibe, complete with a big kitschy pin in the front. i could never pull that one off, but BC? even strangers in the dressing room were commenting. (that, of course, bit me in the butt later on. at syms, an educated customer has to try on clothes in front of other educated customers, all butt nekkid. despite my neverending stream of no one’s looking at YOU, honeys, i couldn’t shake her entreaties. “but mama, they ARE looking at me!” anyway, this dressed, it t w i r l e d in a big way.

happiness is…

anyway, we decided to troll a little for mommy things. BC picked out a bikini. in my size. in theory. “darling,” i noted, “i haven’t worn a bikini since you were born.” a man walking by laughed so loud that i wanted to crawl into a hole and self-immolate. we then proceeded to check out shirts and sweaters. she found a leopard print sweater that reminded me of the bonnie and bill leopard sweater i have that was my grandmother’s and that is so fahncy that i cannot bear to part with it, even though i don’t think i would ever walk out of the house in that thang. she found every post-xmas sale sparkly sweater. i looked at the ceiling and said a small thank you. it was like shopping with my gram (BC is her namesake.) she touched every single item on the rack.

yep. belle freeman is alive and well and working her way through syms.

sturm and drang in the 1st grade

Posted on December 4, 2005 by wrekehavoc

BC just figured out that one of her little friends, a girl whose birthday is about a week before her own, did not invite her to her birthday party, even after we invited her to BC’s. i had to take the moral high road on this one publicly: “well, honey, maybe she had a very expensive birthday party where she could only invite one or two friends…?” how else can you explain why someone who plays with you every day neglects to invite you to a birthday party? i’m frankly otherwise mystified why this happened unless the little girl secretly loathes BC. i mean, i happen to even know the parent casually, so i’m really surprised at any other reason other than expense.

and yet you can’t be rude and confront the issue.

these are things that make me crazy. see, i’m one of those head-on, straight-on, let me have it, good or bad, so i can move on with my life type of people. i hate game-playing; i am not exactly great at feigning coy politeness. one of my best friends and i to this day have a tough time talking about her dating ideology, as she believes in The Rules, whereas i just can’t imagine anything that isn’t basic and direct. so of course, i want to know why a parent would help to ensure that right now, at this moment, my kid is a sad little tomato. if there were months in between the two parties, then i would understand; i mean, shit happens. kids fall out. whatever. but one mother slipped when talking with me about BC’s party: “wow, it’s the same day as X’s party… oh, but it is a different time, so it should be okay.” i just smiled and bit my tongue

the best part of it: this same child invited another child to BC’s birthday party. essentially.

so i have to keep my mouth shut. get over it. all that. but you know what? first graders aren’t restricted by the same rules of etiquette that bind an old mama like me. i mean, this other child, when inviting another child (who came) to BC’s birthday party, said, “BC will give you an invitation soon.” so when discussing the issue, i said to BC: “hey. you know, you can ask her why you weren’t invited to her birthday party.”

or, from where i come from, turnabout is fair play.

where does the innocence go?

Posted on November 27, 2005 by wrekehavoc

…it really hits home the day your child tells you about school security drills….

BC came home from school the other day and told me that they had practiced tornado drills and security drills. “what do you do for tornado drills, I asked. “oh, we go into our cubbies and smush ourselves in. it’s lots of fun!” she squealed, reminding me for a moment of that wonderful WWII movie Hope and Glory.

“what do you do for security drills, sweetheart?” i asked.

“we run into the classroom, lock the door, and put something over the door window so the bad person can’t see us or get into our classroom.”

we never had to do that growing up.

my child painted a Picasso with his peas. and you?

Posted on November 8, 2005 by wrekehavoc

i am always intrigued when i hear parents wondering what to do about their gifted children. i don’t know a single mom out there who thinks, gee, my kid’s a dumbass, what will i do to keep him from eating his boogers? it’s always the opposite: oh dear, my child has just composed music to accompany the seriocomic play he also wrote. he’s two and a half. what shall i do to keep him stimulated and ready for brain surgery by age 5?

i must confess that i have had moments like this myself. the other day in the car, we were riding to work and school and daycare with the radio blaring. the first 4 notes or so of “a day in the life” came on. before you could say lysergic acid diethylamide, Jools blurted out “The Beatles!” BS and i looked at each other quizzically (until BS realized by doing so, he would not be paying full time and attention to the road.) most adults i know can’t do that. and “a day in the life” is not a song we play in heavy rotation around here. i’m really fired up about what the hell his little synapses are up to these days.

of course, i mentioned this to my dad the other day. “sher,” he said, “you were able to do that too. apple trees don’t have pears.” which is sorta logical, i suppose. if i’m a freak, it stands to reason that i would pass on some freak-like traits to my kids. don’t know if it means they’ll get on game shows and win, too, but what fun to think about it, huh.

i think people who hope and pray for gifted children have never been gifted themselves. roll over, then, and let me tell you a little bit about what it can be like for a gifted kid. i taught myself to read. i actually wrote stories before i entered school. when they tested me in 2nd grade, i had a college reading level. now all of this can of course make a parent wildly proud, like it is some wonderful reflection on their upbringing abilities and genes. maybe it is. maybe it isn’t.

but being gifted isn’t always the biggest blessing in the world. you end up as class librarian because your teacher doesn’t know what the hell to do with you when it’s time for reading groups. you end up very frustrated when your friends are not reading the same sorts of things you are (i still remember book report time in seventh grade when i chose “soul on ice” by eldridge cleaver and none of my friends had a clue what a black panther was outside of a zoo). sometimes, your expectations of your friends’ abilities is so weirdly skewed. i play piano by ear and have perfect pitch. i remember a game when i was young where i would randomly pick a radio station, listen to it, then pick out the song i just heard. then, i would do the same for my friend amy and get annoyed with her when she couldn’t do it. (and my mom gave me hell for that once, too.) and, of course, there was the time when i told amy to resolve her anger by smashing her driveway with a sledgehammer (i had read a psychology book that talked about getting your anger out in such ways) and her father nearly took said sledgehammer to my head when he saw what we had done.

i hope my kids learn to love to learn like i do — that’s the very best part of being gifted, and you don’t even have to be gifted to have that gift. if they are gifted or not, i guess i don’t care so much as long as they like school and feel challenged. in the end, i don’t think it wildly worthwhile to worry a lot about whether Jools or BC are getting enough stimulation. they probably get more stimulation than what’s good for them, i think. what they need is to play outside. often. get dirty. often. yell and holler and sing and make up stories. often.

and i need to calm down about this whole childhood development thing. often.

who's afraid of victoria's secret?

Posted on October 5, 2005 by wrekehavoc

a lot of local parents are up in arms about a skimpy victoria’s secret window. i, on the other hand, am way more offended by violence than i am over a few mannequins dressed up in sexy lingerie.

http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/10/04/AR2005100401413.html

when i mentioned how BC was freaked out when she saw the gun display in a walmart — and that said display pissed me off far more than any sexy window display would, a parent on my favorite list, DCUM, mentioned how the book “Freakonomics” mentions that kids are more in danger of drowning in pools than they are of getting shot. That well may be, but regarding “Freakonomics” – yes, plenty of children drown in pools, and I sometimes wish my children had a little more of a healthy respect for the fact that a pool is a great place to play as long as certain safety precautions are in effect (such as a grownup must be watching you, etc.) But a pool in and of itself isn’t something with a purpose to kill. There are no purposes for a gun other than to shoot at something – you don’t make crafts with them, play with them, make hats, brooches, pteradactyls, etc. Yes, I know there are sports people out there who think that shooting at clay pigeons is a great activity. But, for the most part, anytime someone shoots at something, there is the opportunity there to actually kill or hurt something or someone — certainly one careless miss at the clay pigeon shooting fest and you might bean someone in the eye or butt, perhaps. (And please, for the love of the Diety of your choice, I am NOT trying to incite an argument about whether it is your constitutional right to bear arms. THAT is a windmill I only tilt at in smaller forums 😉

My daughter does not watch television news. We have shielded her, rightly or wrongly, from pretty much everything we think we can up to this point. Hurricane Katrina, which we felt she was old enough to understand, is something we have talked about at length, as we knew she would hear about now that she is at elementary school, and we thought could provide some very teachable and interesting discussions about people and economics and disasters. When my kids see a pool, however dangerous that pool is, they don’t immediately tense up in horror. But when my daughter sees a gun (and I hope to G-d she never sees too many in real life), she knows it is something that can kill her. I’d certainly prefer this attitude than the attitude that unfortunately kills or maims many children each year when they accidentally come upon some unsecured firearm and start to play with it.

So, as you can gather, I am one of those people who is far more concerned about the violence kids see in their games, their TV shows, their lives. That being said, I think it is my job as a parent to moderate my kids’ interactions with these and all other things, as much as I can. As they grow older, I will have fewer and fewer opportunities to monitor/moderate what my kids experience. By that time, I will have hopefully done some serious parenting and talked extensively about sex, drugs, violence, and, of course, rock and roll (for example, in my house, Celine Dion is considered a sign of the coming of the Apocalypse 😉 I don’t believe my opinion should dictate what Victoria’s Secret shows in their window. (I certainly can’t tell WalMart not to sell guns, at least not in this political climate, and those have a greater chance of harming someone than does a thong, however painful the latter can be in practice.) As a consumer, I have the choice to avoid the store and not patronize the company if I don’t like what they’re doing. But hello, they are selling lingerie. There have always been mannequins dressed up in little teeny tiny nothings as long as I can remember (and I remember as a child in the late 1970s seeing the Frederick’s of Hollywood store in the Ocean County Mall with a mannequin in some skimpy boa number. Mostly, it inspired giggles and a conversation with my mom.)

If nothing else, maybe this is a wakeup call for many of us to think carefully about our conversations with our children about sex and sexuality. I am very uncomfortable with some of the comments in newspapers made about the “sluttiness” of these mannequins, as if women shouldn’t feel comfortable expressing their sexuality for fear of being branded as “bad” women. I’d be lying through my teeth if I said I was jumping up and down in anticipation about talking to my daughter about what some consenting adults do in the privacy of their own homes; but if my girl decides to ask me about it, I am going to do my best to put things in context as I think appropriate. Obviously, we all have different ideas about what is appropriate about sex and sexuality and need to convey our ideals to our kids for their thinking pleasure. For my part, I want my daughter to see that the world is a big place full of diversity and wonder. And while I don’t want her baring her middriff in elementary school at the moment, I want her to also know that one day, when she is a grownup, she can make choices about all that she wants to do — and that there may be consequences for her choices, but that she needs to make the best choices for herself, the right choices that let her be true to her feelings, her community, and her world.

Car Seats, Shmar Seats

Posted on August 12, 2005 by wrekehavoc

at the top of his little lungs, my two year old Hellboy likes to let anyone who will listen know: “nobody walks in L.A.!” (that song, among others, is on one of our no-way-in-hell-are-we-listening-to-barney-or-other-crap-while-we-sit-in-dc-traffic mixes.)

if he keeps up the good work, though, he’ll be walking all over DC.

we’re driving down the NJ Turnpike monday, keeping up with traffic ;-), and BC exclaims, “mama, he’s undone his carseat!” sure enough, i look behind me, and he has done the unthinkable — he has unlocked the top part of his 5 point carseat and is smiling with wild abandon. yep, all those weeks of pushing the thing has finally paid off. needless to say, I nearly had heart failure in the left lane. When i finally found a reststop where i could put aforementioned seatbelt back on the dude (and threaten him with removal of his beloved Percy from the Thomas the Tank Engine Crew should he do this again), it occured to me that perhaps there are ways of ensuring this doesn’t happen again. (Sure enough, when we drove into MD, he did it again. Percy was out of there.) yes, I know I have to teach Mr. Toddler that these things just are verboten. Discipline, discipline, yeah yeah yeah. But this is not one of those cases where I want to actually take any chances.

maybe we’ll just stay home until he’s 10.

growin' up

Posted on July 14, 2005 by wrekehavoc

i have to come to grips with the fact that BC wants to listen to ::shudder:: Kelly Clarkson!

one of the counselors at her camp let her listen to her IPod, and BC came home begging me to play some song called “Breakaway” by a Kelly something. i found it on Rhapsody and we listened to it. she already knows most of the words.

why, oh why couldn’t my little girl come home singing Gangsta Rap! but no. we have unadulterated schlock.

today, kelly clarkson. tomorrow, celine dion.

::smacking self in head::