kids

Incompetent Parenting 101

Posted on October 20, 2008 by Debora

Right on schedule, Elizabeth has started having disciplinary problems at school again. In a new twist, so has Luke. I’m pretty sure it’s no coincidence that they’ve both been totally immersed in the Calvin & Hobbes books since I got them out a couple weeks ago. Last Wednesday I got a call from the school: Luke needed to be picked up from the Principal’s office. That same day Elizabeth received a citation for insubordinate behavior in class.

So what’s a mom to do?

I won’t say it’s not tempting to ban the C&H books again. I mean, there is a CLEAR and OBVIOUS correlation between my kids being exposed to Calvin’s naughty influence and then self-destructing at school. But I just really think there’s a bigger issue here than one subversive comic strip. I can put the books away, but I can’t keep Luke and Elizabeth isolated from all the crappy role models of the world forever.

We’re working on expectations and consequences, and leaving the books out for reading. I’ll let you know how that goes.

There was no school Friday, so Thursday night we went to check out the youth group that gets together at our church once a week. Luke had been wanting to go for a while but on a regular school night it’s not really feasible, especially since the church is a fair distance from our place. Anyway, so we checked it out and the kids had fun and Luke wants to go back again which I’m thinking might be wonderful for summer vacation but not so ideal for during the school year. And once again I observed that my kids are going to be mingling with, um, less-than-perfect peers pretty much everywhere they go, so it’s silly to try to shelter them too much.

Friday was gorgeously sunny and warm so we got together with two other moms and six other kids and took a trip down to Oceanside. Luke had never been to the beach before and Elizabeth hadn’t been since she was a toddler, so this was effectively a first for both of them.

I tried to go in the water too, but it was FREEZING! That’s no exaggeration — I was quite the beach aficionado back in my single days, but I’ve never felt the Pacific ocean as frigid as it was Friday. The other two moms come down every week (they homeschool their kids), and they both commented that the water has been unusually cold for this early in the year. Now I keep thinking about the connection between ocean temps and the severity of winters: the colder the ocean the colder the winter. Yikes.

Luke and Elizabeth weren’t deterred by the crust of ice on the waves (okay, possibly a small exaggeration there); in fact Elizabeth had to be dragged in periodically to warm up on the sand or she would have just stayed out there with her borrowed boogie-board till she was too stiff to move.

Around 1:00 Luke, Elizabeth and I walked down the beach to investigate one of the breakwaters that stretch like long thin rocky fingers from the sand into the sea.

About halfway out to the endpoint, the rocks we were walking on were wet from the occasional wave breaking over the side.

Closer to the tip the rocks were wet AND slippery from a permanent layer of slime that coated everything.

So what were we thinking? I dunno. Just about how pretty it all was, I guess. We sure weren’t thinking about what we should have been thinking about.

So we got to the end of the breakwater, and of course Elizabeth ran ahead to the very tipmost rock, because that’s what she does. And I let her because I am an Unfit Mother.

And that’s when an enormous wave crashed head-on into the rocks and very nearly swept my fearless girl off the slippery surface and to practically certain death on the jagged layer of rocks below. The look of terror on her face as she scrambled for a secure hold was something I never want to see again.

And then we left the breakwater and went back to the beach like normal people who have basic self-preservation instincts. If you don’t have ’em, fake ’em, that’s my motto.

The rest of the day was happily non-life-threatening. One of the other girls found a starfish that had lost one of its rays and was just sprouting a new one.

So that was cool. We admired it for a while and then the kids released it back into the sea.

Ironically (or maybe “typically” is the word I’m looking for) it was Luke, not Elizabeth, who came home with the impression that the beach might be a dangerous place. At one point he borrowed a boogie-board from one of the other kids and it carried him a bit farther from shore than he was really comfortable with. So beach=dangerous. Elizabeth? Can’t wait to go back.

Saturday there was a huge rummage sale at the church, and when we’d finally dragged our slothful behinds out of bed (I actually had to go rouse Elizabeth around 8am, which is crazy), we headed over to look for some sweaters and hoodies for the kids. They keep leaving theirs at school, and I can’t afford to keep paying $17 a pop for new ones. At the rummage sale every garment cost 50¢, from the pure wool peacoat I found in my size to the heavyweight hoodies in Luke’s, so that was a big giant score!

Yesterday in church we learned that all the kids in our Sunday school were going to be performing in a Christmas pageant thingie this year, and would begin practicing next week. I LOVE this idea. I just hope Luke and Elizabeth can get their behavior back on track enough to enjoy being a part of the fun.

While we were out at church my sister swung by our house to drop off something for Elizabeth. She was gone by the time we got home, but my phone was ringing before I even got into the house.

It was Steve, demanding to know who had come to my house in a red car.

GAK.

This morning all three of us apparently shut off our alarm clocks when they rang, and went back to sleep. This is the first time this year that all three of us have overslept. By the time I woke up it was just about time to be heading out the door to the bus stop, and the kids were still asleep. I suppose I could have hustled everyone up and driven them to school and they probably only would have been a little bit late, but instead I declared a holiday and we’re all still in our pajamas. I’ve got that Unfit Mother gig DOWN this week!

And I think that’s all the news. Stay tuned for the post where I use Luke for live bait in a cougar-hunting expedition! Good wholesome fun for the whole family!

Categories: Family, Friends, kids, Life | 2 Comments

Sampler Saturday: Holding Pattern

Posted on October 11, 2008 by Debora

Elizabeth has been wrapped up in schoolwork and other projects this week, so she hasn’t been drawing much. I asked her if she had anything for Sampler Saturday and she handed me an odd little story titled “Elizabeth And The Wrath Of The Cheeseburger Men,” which sadly was neither coherent enough nor visually striking enough to post. Except the cover, which was kind of cool:

Anyway, rather than let down her public she immediately sat down and drew this picture as a sort of “Please Stand By” screen:

We’ll return you to your regularly-scheduled comics next week.

Meanwhile, how about this crazy weather we’re having? Is it just here or has winter arrived about two months early this year? I suppose we can at least hope for a white Christmas….

Categories: Animals, Artwork, Dragons, Family, kids, Life, Sampler Saturday | 1 Comment

Choices

Posted on October 9, 2008 by Debora

I loves me some Calvin and Hobbes. I bought the complete box set when it was released a few years ago to replace my incomplete collection of yearly anthologies; Elizabeth was seven at the time, and naturally wanted to investigate this ginormous box of big heavy tomes. I was a little reluctant to let her read them — Calvin isn’t exactly a stellar role model — but in the end I decided that we could work through whatever problems might come up. Elizabeth immediately glommed onto the misadventures of the naughty six-year-old and his wisdom-imparting stuffed tiger, and for weeks she was completely immersed in that world as she worked her way through all three volumes and then revisited her favorite parts over and over.

I’m still trying to decide whether or not I made the right decision. On one hand, the strip had a profound influence on her visual storytelling style. If Elizabeth ever makes her fortune as an animator or graphic artist she’ll have Bill Watterson to thank, no doubt about it. On the other hand, Calvin is SO unapologetically disobedient and self-absorbed, and Elizabeth wasn’t old enough to grasp that it’s the very unacceptability of his behavior that makes the strip so funny. She took his egocentric life-view to heart, and began getting into whole new kinds of trouble at school. And the stories she drew started to take on a rebellious tone. Eventually I put the C&H books away and forbade her to look at them anymore. She was, um, dismayed and resentful about that. A lot. I was the most horrible mother in the entire history of child abuse, to hear her tell it. But gradually her behavior and her attitude got back on track; deprived of Calvin’s subversive influence she eventually reset to being a basically agreeable and cooperative little person. Several months later she explained to me that she had seen the error of her ways, and that Calvin was a lousy role model, and that she would like to be able to read the books again just because they’re funny and this time she wouldn’t be led astray by Calvin’s naughty example.

She’d been doing very well at school, so I agreed to let her get the box set out again.

And within a few weeks history was repeating itself. Trouble at school, a difficult attitude at home, insurrection in her stories. Away went the books again.

But here’s the thing: I don’t like censorship. I never have. This goes back to my own childhood, when my mother used to try to control our very thoughts by insanely strict limiting of the information we received. She never EVER responded to a straight question with a straight answer. Her parenting mantra was “You don’t have to understand, you just have to obey.” Because of that, I stumbled into adulthood knowing precious little of anything useful about being a grownup. I had to UNlearn most of what she’d taught me before I could even begin to get along with my fellow humans in any kind of productive manner. My twenties were spent coming to terms with the profound disfunction of my upbringing; my thirties were spent rebuilding myself into someone I was actually happy being.

So, back to the issue of Elizabeth and Calvin. It rankled me that the only solution I’d been able to find was censorship of the book in question. Because let’s face it, kids are going to be exposed to that stuff their whole lives. Trying to shelter a child from subversive influences, rather than pointing them out and teaching the child to recognize them and understand why they’re ultimately self-destructive, is pointless and counterproductive and doesn’t do the child any favors in the long run.

So over the past year I’ve done a lot of talking to Elizabeth about choices and ethics and consequences and what makes a behavior good or bad and why. And last weekend I pulled out the Calvin and Hobbes books and we started reading them together from the beginning. Time will tell if this is going to cause more problems, but if it does I’m going to find some other way of solving them than hiding the books away again. I did notice that this time both kids were laughing at the sheer outrageousness of Calvin’s actions rather than admiring his audacity. About a quarter of the way through the first volume I handed it over to them and said, “Here you go, enjoy. If you start having trouble in school we’ll talk some more.”

So far so good, but that’s a secondary point. I want to teach my kids not just to rise above bad influences, but to face reality head-on instead of hiding the problematic bits and pretending they don’t exist. Sometimes love means giving a person room to make mistakes and then helping them to learn from the experience.

Happy Love Thursday, everyone. Here’s to learning from our mistakes and making better choices in the future.

Categories: books, Family, kids, Life, Love, Love Thursday | 4 Comments

Washed

Posted on October 6, 2008 by Debora

One of the drawbacks of home worship was that Luke and Elizabeth were never baptized. I myself had a more-or-less Baptist upbringing (with generous helpings of batshit crazy, but that’s another post.) (Or probably not.) so the baptism thing weighed a little on my conscience as the kids grew older.

Actually once, when Elizabeth was three or four, I decided it was time to address the matter. I figured I’d check out the local churches until I found one that I liked and have it done there. Luke was just an infant and Elizabeth wasn’t good at sitting still yet, so I left them home with Steve one Sunday and began my experiment with a nice-looking little Baptist church in our area.

I really enjoyed the sermon. It was about how Christian love was meant to be shared with everyone, not just people who are like us. How we should extend the hand of fellowship and brotherhood to all those around us, and that just because someone has piercings or tattoos or weird hair, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re possessed of a demon or anything, and that we should show them the same kindness and grace that God offers freely to all His children.

It was a message that fit perfectly with my own philosophy, and the minister delivered it with great eloquence and conviction. I felt that here was a man who would understand my request.

So after the service I went over to him and explained that we had been home-worshipping, but that I would like to have my daughter baptized before she started school.

He looked at me with thinly-concealed disapproval and said that he would never even consider baptizing someone who wasn’t a member of his own church.

Alrighty then.

That was the end of my personal experience with organized religion until a few weeks ago when I began attending a local non-denominational church that a friend recommended. I’ve enjoyed the services there, and I’ve made a new friend or two, but this time I didn’t bring up the subject of baptism. I figured if we liked the church well enough to stick around, there was plenty of time to deal with that issue later.

But last week the pastor suddenly announced that on the following Sunday he would have the tub set up, and that he would offer baptisms to anyone who wanted one. I perked right up. One week would give me just enough time to explain to the kids exactly what it was all about, and let them prepare themselves for the deed.

Then the pastor added, “Raise your hand if you would like to be baptized next Sunday.” Seven or eight hands went up in the congregation.

I hesitated, then told the kids to raise their hands. They obliged, with rather baffled expressions.

THEN the pastor said, “Hey, everyone who wants to be baptized come on up here to the front!”

This was truly awkward. I had never really talked about baptism to Luke or Elizabeth, and they had no idea what the pastor was going on about. I thought about dropping the whole idea for now, but it was really something that should have been taken care of long ago. So I whispered to the kids, “Go on up there. I’ll explain everything when we get home.”

Trusting little souls that they are, they got up and joined the others in the front near the pastor. He was talking to each person about why they wanted to be baptized and so on, and when he reached Luke and Elizabeth he said, “So you two want to be baptized?”

“Actually,” Elizabeth leaned forward and enunciated clearly into the mic he held, “Our mom just told us to come up here.”

The congregation ROARED with laughter at her innocent candor and her faintly disgruntled tone. I’m sure I blushed scarlet.

The pastor laughed too, and made a comment about Elizabeth obviously being an intelligent, clear-thinking person. She was pleased by the compliment and beamed a smile at me. I gave her a wry thumbs-up, wishing I’d followed my first instinct and kept my mouth shut.

Then the pastor turned to Luke. “Do you love Jesus?”

“Yes,” Luke said, plainly wondering where this was headed.

“DO you?” The pastor demanded in a tell-the-truth-now voice.

“YES,” Luke insisted, looking mildly affronted.

The pastor turned back to Elizabeth. “Do you love Jesus?”

She nodded warily.

“Okay then! See you next Sunday.”

So I spent the past week explaining the significance of baptism, the physical and spiritual process, and the importance of only having it done if you really mean it, because faking it is worse than not doing it at all.

Luke, who is made of love wrapped in compassion and filled with a desire to be good, was only worried about getting water up his nose and the potential coldness of the water. He said he would like to see other people survive getting baptized before he made a final decision. I told him that was fine.

Elizabeth, who has always led with her intellect rather than her heart, said that she didn’t feel ready to make such a profound commitment at this point, and that she would pass on the baptism this time. It wasn’t really what I’d wanted to hear, but I thanked her for her honesty and appreciated her respect for the significance of the act.

So yesterday at church Elizabeth unselfconsciously told the pastor that she wasn’t ready to be baptized yet, and he smiled and said he’d be there whenever she felt ready. And Luke watched the others undergo the ritual cleansing and offering themselves to God (in a big horse trough full of warm water), and then said that he’d like to be baptized now, please. And it was beautiful and perfectly Luke, right down to when he asked permission to hold his nose for the dunking. I was kicking myself for not bringing my camera.

So. One kid baptized, one to go. And I’m feeling pretty good about our new church, which is a nice feeling.

In other news, we’ve had to fire up our woodstove twice already this week, which is HIGHLY unusual for October in Anza. The weather has turned brisk and breezy and downright cold at night, and while I adore Autumn — It’s absolutely my favorite season — I can’t help wondering how long my store of firewood is going to last if we have another winter like the last one. And I just bought a batch of young chicks to replenish my aging flock of egg-layers, and the last few nights have been a bit too cold for their safety.

And at the same time I can’t seem to get too worried about those things. I’ve felt God’s hand in my life so vividly these past few months, guiding and teaching and providing, that my prevailing mood is one of trust and thankfulness and acceptance and occasionally pure joy. Fear, even seemingly legitimate fears about things like running out of firewood or losing my chicks to a cold snap, don’t seem to get a foothold lately; I just feel like everything will work out for the best. The chicks will be fine, the firewood will last as long as it needs to. Things work out.

AND! This morning someone told me that my little cardboard jail made the front page of one of the local newspapers this week! How cool is that? I’ll have to pick up a copy next time I’m near a store. Gotta love living in a small town. :^)

Categories: Christianity, Family, kids, Life, Love | Tags: baptism | 4 Comments

Sampler Saturday: Where It All Began

Posted on October 4, 2008 by Debora

When Elizabeth was six years old she discovered candy corn. And oh sweet mystery of life, how she loved those little nuggets of corn syrup and food coloring.

Not to eat, mind you. No, they became action figures: new characters in the rich tapestry of her inner world. She wasn’t writing books yet, but for months her drawings were populated with sentient candy corn kernals going about the business of collecting food. This is a Walking Candy Corn:

In her world they were industrious creatures much like ants, who spent all their time stashing food away for the winter, usually to the consternation of whoever they were stealing the food away from.

One day she decided to sit down and create her very first Actual Book. She began with the title: Spots And The Walking Candy Corn. (Spots was one of her Fisher Price toys, a little giraffe.)

Then she got so wrapped up in Spots’ tale of woe that she forgot to actually include any Walking Candy Corns in the story.

This one is by special request: the first complete book Elizabeth ever made, at age six.

It’s an I Can Read Book!

Spots is the tiny creature at the bottom of the page. Parental figures are always towering giants in Elizabeth’s drawings.

Love the wiggly reflection in the water. Click on any image for a larger view.

Yeah, I’m thinking Spots could maybe use some Prozak.

Pull it together, man!

But what’s this…

A carnival! Now we’re talking!

Not sure why there are vicious dinosaurs at the carnival…

This is an erupting volcano. Spots is just having the crappiest day ever.

I love this image. Spots and his enormous mother sleeping snugly in a giant bird nest. It’s so cozy. :^)

And there you have it — Elizabeth’s first book, fresh out of the Wayback Machine. Seems like forever ago that she started writing them, but I guess it’s only been four years.

It’s been a fun journey. I can’t wait to see what she’s writing in another four.

Categories: Artwork, books, Family, kids, Life, Sampler Saturday | 6 Comments