My kids were pretty good at hiding stuff from their mother. Jenny, for example, used to climb out her second-story bedroom window onto the gable roof. She'd just sit there, she says. It was her fort or space or whatever. I was just informed of this a couple of months ago. She started this practice when she was 10; she's now 30. That's 20 years in the dark.
At the age of 12 Andrea hid a can of beer in her backpack on her way to a waterpark. Her friend was bringing the lemon juice to mix with the beer to use as a hair bleach. If her little brother hadn't ratted on her, man, that coulda been an interesting day.
Speaking of little brother. When John was 5, he shimmied up an aluminum street lamp. To the very top! I missed that one, too. The neighbor lady didn't. Well, it wasn't entirely his fault. His older sister, daredevil Jenny, had preceded him up the pole. It simply had been his turn.
Of course these are but a fraction of the things my kids tried to hide from me. Lies of omission. They were good at it, too. I say that with a certain amount of pride because I believe too much transparency between child and parent is unhealthy. My kids lied to protect their mom. They understood, even at such a young age, the aggravation their actions induced. They lived by that motto, "What mom doesn't know won't hurt her." I call that thoughtful. Which is why I may find myself needing to return the favor.
This weekend I am the sole guardian of two of my grandchildren, ages 3 and 5. I am wondering what kind of adventure we could have and how much information about said adventure will need to be kept from the parents.
How does that song from the Lying King go?
Till we find our place
On the path unwinding
In the Circle
The Circle of (crashing drums) Lies
Wednesday, April 29, 2015
Sunday, April 19, 2015
Blind devotion
You know how some days kinda have a theme? For me, today is charisma day.
First this morning Paulie and I entertained the delusional idea that we wanted to check out recreational vehicles. How convenient that just 30 minutes from our house is the regions' biggest and baddest seller of RV's. Big ones that go for a million dollars. Little ones, too, but even they cost more than what we paid for our first house.
Enter Jimmy. Tall and handsome; over-groomed for my personal style. Western attire, shades tucked into his button-up shirt. Make that unbuttoned up and showing a little skin. And lots of cologne. I mean a lot, but a pleasant scent.
Jimmy has charisma. The kind that lulls you into agreeing with everything he says. His office walls are filled with memorabilia from his days in Vegas working with all kinds of fancy people. He even has a picture with Mohammad Ali. That is impressive. Thirty minutes in and he and Paul were speaking the same language, practically answering each other's sentences. Good thing we had a time limit on the visit or we might have caught a horrible case of buyer's remorse. We escaped.
Later in the day I run over to our neighborhood Walgreens to pick up a script. While there, I wander into the cosmetic aisle, and minding my own business, I hear, "How are you doing?" Crap. I know that voice. It belongs to the Walgreen's cosmetic lady who always gets me to buy stuff I don't need or want. How? Charisma. But it's not like you can compare a 70 grand RV to a $15 bottle of foundation. Like she said, I could use the extra SPF and she gave me a coupon for it, too. Man she's good.
Unfortunately today I also had the displeasure of reading in one of the local newspapers, the Dallas Morning News (4.18.2015, front page),about a charismatic leader of a tiny religious cult. The leader, a 49-year-old woman, convinced parents their 2-year-old son was demon possessed and they should not feed him. He starved to death. It's mind blowing.
Charismatic people, by definition, "exercise a compelling charm that inspires devotion in others." This sick leader apparently oozed with compelling charm and used it against a small following.
That leaves me to rethink today's theme. If charisma requires participation from another, maybe a better word theme for today is gullible, as in one who is trusting, naïve, innocent, simple and green. I understand how easy it is to cave in to others, as in buying stuff you don't need. However, I really need to better understand how parents can stand back and watch their child starve to death. Certainly they were trusting and naïve and blindly devoted. And scared and uneducated and likely selfish. The perfect gullible storm.
In this case, the ghastly imperfect gullible storm.
First this morning Paulie and I entertained the delusional idea that we wanted to check out recreational vehicles. How convenient that just 30 minutes from our house is the regions' biggest and baddest seller of RV's. Big ones that go for a million dollars. Little ones, too, but even they cost more than what we paid for our first house.
Enter Jimmy. Tall and handsome; over-groomed for my personal style. Western attire, shades tucked into his button-up shirt. Make that unbuttoned up and showing a little skin. And lots of cologne. I mean a lot, but a pleasant scent.
Jimmy has charisma. The kind that lulls you into agreeing with everything he says. His office walls are filled with memorabilia from his days in Vegas working with all kinds of fancy people. He even has a picture with Mohammad Ali. That is impressive. Thirty minutes in and he and Paul were speaking the same language, practically answering each other's sentences. Good thing we had a time limit on the visit or we might have caught a horrible case of buyer's remorse. We escaped.
Later in the day I run over to our neighborhood Walgreens to pick up a script. While there, I wander into the cosmetic aisle, and minding my own business, I hear, "How are you doing?" Crap. I know that voice. It belongs to the Walgreen's cosmetic lady who always gets me to buy stuff I don't need or want. How? Charisma. But it's not like you can compare a 70 grand RV to a $15 bottle of foundation. Like she said, I could use the extra SPF and she gave me a coupon for it, too. Man she's good.
Unfortunately today I also had the displeasure of reading in one of the local newspapers, the Dallas Morning News (4.18.2015, front page),about a charismatic leader of a tiny religious cult. The leader, a 49-year-old woman, convinced parents their 2-year-old son was demon possessed and they should not feed him. He starved to death. It's mind blowing.
Charismatic people, by definition, "exercise a compelling charm that inspires devotion in others." This sick leader apparently oozed with compelling charm and used it against a small following.
That leaves me to rethink today's theme. If charisma requires participation from another, maybe a better word theme for today is gullible, as in one who is trusting, naïve, innocent, simple and green. I understand how easy it is to cave in to others, as in buying stuff you don't need. However, I really need to better understand how parents can stand back and watch their child starve to death. Certainly they were trusting and naïve and blindly devoted. And scared and uneducated and likely selfish. The perfect gullible storm.
In this case, the ghastly imperfect gullible storm.
Monday, April 13, 2015
Free-range kids vs scheduled kids
Free-range parenting. I hate that name. It just sounds too weird for me. However, the sentiment behind it I like.
Let kids roam outside within boundaries set by parents. Let them come up with their own activities, create their own adventures. As opposed to having their days fully scheduled, one parent or the other hovering and deciding every tiny detail of a child's life. Do this, not that. Go here, not there. I show my bias.
So much has happened in the last 20 to 30 years causing parents to become stalkers of their own children. It was about the time my kids, now in their early 30s, were playing organized sports that the practice of putting kids' names on jerseys was banned. Why? It would give the perverts an advantage.
It also was about the same time cable launched 24/7 news coverage. Local stories became national stories. Fear became the measure of a good story. Scaring parents grew into a cottage industry.
Is the world a more dangerous place than it was 30 years ago? Tough one to call. For sure we have more information than we did 30 years ago. We know what CAN happen to our children because it happened to someone else's child. Even when that child lived thousands of miles away, but also when that child lived close by. The national Amber Alert is based on a nightmare that happened in the city where I raised my kids. Amber was around my kids' age. So maybe fear is a valid reason to reject free-ranging.
Another problem with letting your kids roam is who are they going to roam with? Depends I guess on where you live. In many places and neighborhoods, there just aren't other kids to hook up with. Sure, you can plan play dates for your children. But there you go, taking away any possible way of the child creating their own adventure in the great outdoors.
Texas, by the way, appears to be a free-range parenting state as there's no statute limiting the age for children running loose. Of course if you point that fact out to Child Protective Services after your 3 year old is picked up toddling alone through the neighborhood, they likely will not be impressed. There also is no statute limiting the age of children left home alone. Again, not advisable to leave tiny minors alone to change their own diapers. Texas does have a statute that says you can't leave a child under 7 alone in a car for longer than 5 minutes. Whew.
What's the takeaway? Free-range parenting sounds weird and scary but has good points. Scheduling children's outdoor activity can stunt creativity and problem-solving skills but has good points.
Can we meet in the middle? Let's start play dates for free-ranging!!
Let kids roam outside within boundaries set by parents. Let them come up with their own activities, create their own adventures. As opposed to having their days fully scheduled, one parent or the other hovering and deciding every tiny detail of a child's life. Do this, not that. Go here, not there. I show my bias.
So much has happened in the last 20 to 30 years causing parents to become stalkers of their own children. It was about the time my kids, now in their early 30s, were playing organized sports that the practice of putting kids' names on jerseys was banned. Why? It would give the perverts an advantage.
It also was about the same time cable launched 24/7 news coverage. Local stories became national stories. Fear became the measure of a good story. Scaring parents grew into a cottage industry.
Is the world a more dangerous place than it was 30 years ago? Tough one to call. For sure we have more information than we did 30 years ago. We know what CAN happen to our children because it happened to someone else's child. Even when that child lived thousands of miles away, but also when that child lived close by. The national Amber Alert is based on a nightmare that happened in the city where I raised my kids. Amber was around my kids' age. So maybe fear is a valid reason to reject free-ranging.
Another problem with letting your kids roam is who are they going to roam with? Depends I guess on where you live. In many places and neighborhoods, there just aren't other kids to hook up with. Sure, you can plan play dates for your children. But there you go, taking away any possible way of the child creating their own adventure in the great outdoors.
Texas, by the way, appears to be a free-range parenting state as there's no statute limiting the age for children running loose. Of course if you point that fact out to Child Protective Services after your 3 year old is picked up toddling alone through the neighborhood, they likely will not be impressed. There also is no statute limiting the age of children left home alone. Again, not advisable to leave tiny minors alone to change their own diapers. Texas does have a statute that says you can't leave a child under 7 alone in a car for longer than 5 minutes. Whew.
What's the takeaway? Free-range parenting sounds weird and scary but has good points. Scheduling children's outdoor activity can stunt creativity and problem-solving skills but has good points.
Can we meet in the middle? Let's start play dates for free-ranging!!
Wednesday, April 8, 2015
Coach Andrea Scott: A true role model
My daughter Andrea Scott coaches varsity soccer at the high school level. She's just finished her ninth year. Three times she's been voted Coach of the Year by her colleagues. She is a mentor to many on and off the field. I know this because I have read many letters and emails and texts from current and former students.
Here's what one former student recently said to her in a letter regarding an assignment in a college literature class:
"Our assignment was to write down a true role model and discuss. ... I chose to write about my hometown high school soccer coach. Looking over the criteria used to define a role model, without a doubt, you hit every mark. I feel I needed to write all of my thoughts down because I think it's a rare thing for someone to truly change the course of someone's life. ... In high school, I was a mediocre soccer player at best. Everyone knew this. However, that wasn't the point. In my four years playing for you, I learned more about life than I ever did soccer - which is the point. No one ever goes pro from high school soccer, and I think that's what a lot of people miss. If they would take in the moments and lessons that you give, they will be a better person for it."
I couldn't agree more because my daughter is my role model, too.
Here's what one former student recently said to her in a letter regarding an assignment in a college literature class:
"Our assignment was to write down a true role model and discuss. ... I chose to write about my hometown high school soccer coach. Looking over the criteria used to define a role model, without a doubt, you hit every mark. I feel I needed to write all of my thoughts down because I think it's a rare thing for someone to truly change the course of someone's life. ... In high school, I was a mediocre soccer player at best. Everyone knew this. However, that wasn't the point. In my four years playing for you, I learned more about life than I ever did soccer - which is the point. No one ever goes pro from high school soccer, and I think that's what a lot of people miss. If they would take in the moments and lessons that you give, they will be a better person for it."
I couldn't agree more because my daughter is my role model, too.
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