Sometimes You Have to Bite Your Tongue

This is Connor's second year participating in the First State Jr. Lego League.  It is one of his favorite clubs to participate in. Grade school age students spend 2 months researching a topic and developing a structure made solely of Legos, reflecting what they have learned.  They must incorporate 1 movable part and one simple machine.  The season culminates in a competition where the students are judged by adults and their peers.  Every team is recognized for something.  I like it because it give the students the opportunity to learn teamwork and problem solving skills.  That is if the adults let them. 

There in lies the problem I keep running into with the kids' activities.  Last year's competition featured structures clearly built by very talented and educated adults.  These pieces, fascinating to behold, lacked the childhood charm of something constructed by 8 and 9 year olds. 

This year's competition was no different.  In fact it seemed worse.  Perhaps becuase we were packed into a smaller space and could not take hardly a step without encountering a  creation, a poster or a child in an official t-shirt.  Most adults were fine and stood back watching the kids put their hard work to the test, answering and asking questions.  Other adults could not resisit the temptation to step in and answer questions, or show how their movable part worked, while the kids watched, their fingers itching for a turn.

At one point the students were asked impromptu to build something in a short period of time that had to do with their project.  Connor's team of boys, not surprisingly built a stack of cookies and a laser gun delivery truck that pretended to shoot said cookies at people.  I marveled at how well they worked together.  They had really bonded as a team.  Then I turned around and found myself confronted by a parent who accused the boys of stealing legos that she needed.  In a huff she ran off to the Lego bin, pulling it aside so that she and her son were the only ones with easy access to it.  She sat, sprawled on the floor in a frantic rage of lunacy.  She began constructing what I can only say looked like the proto type to the Mars Rover.  Her son sat next to her, fingers itching to reach into the box and build whatever was roving around in his imagination but he did not dare move.  He knew Mom was at work and not to interupt.

I thought about recording this mother and posting it on facebook, mocking her lack of boundaries and inablilty to separate her son's success from her own.  Didn't she understand that her son is simply that, her son and not a part of her success at all, that he would be capable of his own success and failure if only she would let him.

 Haven't we all been there? To feel the pain of our kids and want to protect them from it, to want them to be a success becuase we somehow feel validated by it?  This mom had not yet learned that our kids need to sprout their wings, take a chance,  make bad decisions, fail, and feel stupid because failure leads to growth.  She did not understand that if we do everything for them, they grow up not knowing how to do anything and  once they go it alone, failure is their only option.

I decided not to record her. I did feel bad for her though.  Her masterpiece rover was complete and quite an accomplishment but  I wanted  to get a picture of the laser gun delivery truck before it finished shooting cookies and  got turned into something else. 

What does it mean to be six?

A perfect storm of events has left me wondering why children today are subjected to so much sex.  OK, before you call me a prude, classify me as too conservative or decide I can't relate to life in the 21st century, hear me out.

  I had the misfortune of observing one of Elizabeth's 6 year old playmates, ditch her in hopes of being included in a group of teenaged boys the playmate desperately wanted to be a part of.

Later, I read an article about a 14 year old girl who had been sold to a brothel at age 6, and served as a sex slave for 3 years before she was able to escape.

  Finally, I read a blog detailing how a Colorado children's clothing store carries a line of crotchless panties for 6 year old children...the owner claimed people were buying them.

 Now I have a Masteer's Degree in Social Work and I really do think Erik Erickson was onto something with his description of the stages of the psychoscocial human life cycle.  Grade school aged children are at a stage of development where they should be developing self conficence through learning new tasks.  Praise and encouragement from adults will help them achieve a strong sense of  identity, self worth and self confience that prepares them for the turbulent adolescent road ahead .  This is why school is so important and why projecting a sexy self image is not so important.

It's really that simple.  We praise what they learn to do in school and they blossom, looking for more praise when they master the next task.  We reinforce a sexual self image and they become sexy, dependent of feed back that reinforces their sexiness, never navigate propery through this stage of development, and become teens with low self eteem and a low self worth. 

Still not with me?  Who is the greater tax burden, the young adult who keeps getting pregnant, has no skills and lacks the coinfidence to enroll in job training or the young adult who has the confidence to tackle a difficult job market?

Let's face it, when your 6, you don't need skinny jeans and lipstick to have fun at recess.  







 

Goodbye Star Wars?

I read in a book that 8 year old boys go through tremendous changes as they approach 9. They have different wants and needs. Their priorities change and they eat 4 times the amount of food they did a year ago. I was ready for all of this. It was in the book.

But what about the changes in their interests? The interests that define their childhood, build common bonds and occupy hours of play time. The change happens over night, and without warning.

I remember a few years ago Connor decided he was through with Thomas the Tank Engine. I felt relieved. Frankly, I found the talking trains somewhat disturbing and the songs utterly annoying. We kept a few trains for sentimentality and Connor never looked back. He had watched Star Wars: A New Hope, with us and it took him where talking trains could not. Sure Diesel was mean but he was no Darth Vader. Watch Episode III and you realize an ill mannered train has nothing on a light saber wielding, General Grievous.

Now Star Wars is something that I can relate to. I am of the generation that saw the episodes in proper order, starting with 4, not 1. I remember the collective gasp in the movie theater when Darth Vader reveals the truth to the beleaguered Luke and I waited anxiously for the (disappointing) episode 6. I have enjoyed watching Connor relive the saga. We built a common bond, often debating which episode is best (Episode 5) while making up alternate endings for other episodes.

Connor has Star Wars posters, legos, games, action figures, transformers, and books that range from easy readers to the chapter books delving into the lives of Han and Leah (they get married and have children, one of whom goes to the dark side.). Our common love of Star Wars, left me unprepared for this latest growth spurt.

His room is to be painted Yankees blue with a Cowboy's accent wall. In preparation we started going through old decor and toys.

"Do you want this train photo?"

"No."

"This airplane model?"

"No"

"Even though it was the first one you and Dad built?"

Confused look.

"Never mind". The yard sale pile grew and grew.

"What about your Star Wars Action figures?"

"Get rid of them"

Silence.

"Are you sure?"

"yeah."

"How about if I put them up on the shelf in your closet for a while."

"Whatever".

More silence.

I don't know if I am ready for the young man I am raising to make his appearance but I see I have no choice. I put the action figures on his shelf, next to Thomas and Diesel, but I am saving them for me not him. They are a reminder for when I open the door and want to look back. Connor does not need to look back and I can't keep him here in the closet with me. He is moving forward on his own path embracing life and ready to take on it's the next adventure.

The Color Wheel

Elizabeth has a pink room. It is a typical little girls room, pink with a Disney Princess bed spread ensemble. Well most of it is typical. she does have a green glass spider dangling from a spring below a shelf but otherwise completely pink.

A while ago she told me she had outgrown the Disney Princess theme and longed for something different. Dogs perhaps, or spots and maybe some stripes. I thought it odd that at age 5, she'd be through with princesses but we flipped the comforter over so it was solid pink and I suggested she think about it for a while. She thought and thought and soon I forgot but she was still thinking.

Enter older brother, who wants his room painted Yankees and Cowboys Blue. All of which reminds Elizabeth that it is time to stop thinking and announce her decision.

"I have decided on a color."


" What is it?" I cringe as Andy asks her and I repeat to myself "please don't say black, please don't say black."

"Red."

Am I ready for red? I liked pink. Pink was soft and quite, peaceful and passive. Red is full of energy, loud and passionate. Red is angry and dangerous.

I look at Elizabeth and realize my mistake. She is not pink. She is not passive, not quiet and not peaceful and I couldn't be prouder of that. She is loud, passionate, strong, angry and even dangerous (depending on when you cross her path) and I love her for it. She has all of those qualities of a girl who drenches each day with her imagination and who spends the night spinning a web of adventures for her own amusement come sunrise.

So to all the little girls out there who find themselves stuck in pink, grab a paint brush and paint yourself a path that leads to red

Happy Father's Day

This year for Father's Day I am going to step aside. It was not an easy decision to make, in fact I really had no choice. I am just accepting what apparently is a natural part of life.

An 8 year old boy just does not need a Mom the way he used to. Oh he still needs her and always will but for now I just need to step aside an let Dad take over.

It is more cool to play catch with Dad. He throws better and even though I technically know more about baseball, it is more enjoyable to watch a ball game with Dad, not Mom. When I could not cite Major League statistics from the 1950's and failed to memorize Joe DiMaggio's hitting record, I knew I lost creditability. I tried to gain some back by recounting the ball game where Steve Carlton struck out his 3,000th batter. I was there and surely that must count for something. But it didn't.

I don't laugh at toilet jokes, but Dad tells really funny ones. I don't lay on the couch and watch TV, but Dad does. I get upset when my son's feelings are hurt or he is left out among his cousins, but Dad doesn't. He seems to know just what to say and how to move on without being hurt. Dad knows what is cool, how to handle bullies with one quick and witty comeback, he can talk to girls and do Everyday Math. Dad understands that when boys get together they burp and tease and wrestle themselves into a great big pile.

This year for Father's day I am stepping aside to make room for something that is bigger than life itself, the bond between a father and son. I am going to sit back and watch it grow (maybe water it every once in a while and feed it wings and frozen pizza). But most of all I am going to enjoy it.

A Case for Full Day Kindergarten

I recently had the opportunity to attend a Town Hall meeting sponsored by the Oxford Area School District. Potential budget cuts dominated the agenda and most parents attending expressed concern over the possible elimination of full day kindergarten and a return to a half day of kindergarten. After the meeting, I couldn't help but think of the evolution of education in our country and the crisis it currently faces.

Elizabeth began attending full day kindergarten 2 short weeks after her 5th birthday. I felt hesitant sending her to school for such a long period of time. She had rarely been away from me for more than 3 or 4 hours. After 2 months of cranky late afternoons, she adjusted and now, 100 plus days into it, she reads, keeps a journal, and completes simple math equations accurately.

But what has impressed me even more is the school district's approach to science. The kindergarten students leave their classroom and go to a classroom converted into a science lab. I first saw the science lab when I attended an Open House. It was empty of students but impressive. On Back to School Night I saw the science lab for the second time. I was more than impressed. The room, empty of teachers, was filled with kindergarten students eager to show their parents what they learned. I watched over a dozen confident boys and girls independently conduct a science experiment and explain the results. Imagine that, these 5 year old children explained a hypothesis, completed an experiment, evaluated their hypothesis and came to a conclusion. No other 5 year old in my family has had that strong of a foundation in science.

My grand parents emigrated from Italy in the early 20th century. They were uneducated and spoke little English. They worked very hard but did not value education. My Mother has often told me a story where the school principal would come to my grandfather, begging him to send his boys to school so they could play sports. My grand father kept them home so they could work. With support of the school system, my mother and her brothers did complete high school. My husband and I have 3 masters degrees between us. Each generation continues to achieve higher educational goals than the last. Seeing what Elizabeth has been exposed to so far in kindergarten, the possibilities for her seemed endless.

Surely this is what President Bush meant when he spoke about improving standards in the public school system. Giving 5 year old children access to this level science in an enriched environment is a step in the right direction. Connor never had a science lab and as a volunteer, I saw his teacher jam several minutes of science into their 3 hour day along with everything else. The science supplies and experiments were restricted by available space and time constraints.

In President Obama's 2011 state of the Union Address he referred to the need to strengthen our school systems and to provide a firm foundation at a very young age. Surely that is what this school district is working towards achieving and here is the direct result: a science lab full of 5 year olds, boys and girls, English speaking and Spanish speaking with a new found love of science. With continued support from the school district and at home these children could achieve goals their parents could never even imagine. They could literally shoot for the Moon. Certainly these children will be better equipped to handle the challenges currently facing our world.

Hopefully the Oxford Area School District will not have to make any cuts in their budget. If they do I will not support cuts that directly adversely affect their students' curriculum. To eliminate full day kindergarten would be one giant step backwards, back to the days of Elizabeth's great grand parents, back to education during the Great Depression and that is a place where we surely do not need to return.

A Thank You

I attended school conferences for both children last night. No surprises with Connor and I always brace myself for Elizabeth but I am fortunate enough again this year that her teacher allows her spirit to flourish.

School conferences always offer the amazing opportunity to enter the world through your child's eyes. The fact that both kids are writing now makes it all the more interesting. What seem to me everyday occurrences or "adult issues", take on a life of their own when told from a child's perspective.

In one of Connor's stories, he recounts a day when I made him refold all the laundry he and Tasha destroyed while playing fetch in the house. From his perspective it was a memorable moment because it was the first time Tasha, a frightened and timid rescue dog, played with him. A big deal for a boy who lost his dog and best friend earlier this year. He comments that everyone had fun and was laughing except Mom and includes a lovely picture of his stern Mother!

Elizabeth wrote about a series of sad and unfortunate events that happened to a friend of mine who lost her home. It is very matter of fact and written and a way that makes me wonder if she afraid the same thing will happen to us. I never considered the impact this had on Elizabeth.

Both experiences make me grateful for their teachers who encourage their independent thinking and self expression. I still think I know my kids better than anyone but it is good to be reminded that I don't know everything.