Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Unfocused

There's that commercial that says 'Life comes at you fast." I'm kinda feeling that this week. Got multiple deadlines looming for work, a close friend lost his father, very suddenly, yesterday morning, we're struggling through the conclusion of the "honeymoon period" with Daisy, the Bug's birthday party is Saturday. I have a "to do" list as long as my arm. Literally.

So what am I doing? Sitting here. Blogging. Because I can't figure out where to focus first. Zoiks.

I wonder if I can condense 90 minutes of Hatha yoga into 15 seconds, so I can breathe again?


Photo: DHD Multimedia Image Gallery

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Remedial Parenting

One of my favorite new blog reads is The Momma Rocks, a continuing saga of motherhood written by a local rebbetzin. She's just a couple miles from me at work, and I swear I'm going to take her to lunch one of these days.

She is one of the most "hands-off-make-your-kids-accountable" parents I know and I admire her approach. Today's rant is about getting local school teachers and administrators to understand that her kids need to suffer natural consequences at school for not having their act together.

And I am envious of her success with her approach to parenting, mostly because I'm not sure I will ever be able to take it. I have struggled for awhile with The Bug, who has had some behavioral and neurological difficulties from birth that make it devilishly hard for her to self-organize. She has made great strides, to be certain, but I'm probably a lot more hands on with her than I want to be -- or would be otherwise.

And now, we have an additional struggle with Daisy Mae. Without going into detail, she's arrived in the house, at the age of 14, without ever really having been taught accountability. This is a bit counter-intuitive, given how much she had to -- literally -- survive on her own for awhile. But as under-parented children often do, she has become a pro at deflecting blame and responsibility. She does not think her actions through and then she steadfastly refuses to see her role in any failure. As you might expect, this set of habits and behaviors has run head-long against her desire to be more independent (which I heartily support).

So I'm left with this dilemma: How much do we manage her, and help her manage herself? She is desperate for us to have a "hand-off" approach to her right now, but she truly lacks the skills to keep herself organized and on-track. I am tempted to let her fall on her nose a couple of times so we can use those times as teachable moments, and yet, the ramifications of allowing her to suffer the natural consequences of her deficits in this regard can be catastrophic for her at this point. I need to figure out how far we can let her fall before we catch her, and still ensure that she learns real lessons and real natural consequences.

I need to spend some time consulting with some of my friends who teach high school. They're stuck in the same position I am -- they have to take students and prepare them to go out into the world, without the benefit of having been involved in their early training.

But I'll toss it out there to some of you. Those of you who've parented or taught "special needs" teens: how do you go back and teach some of these kids (the ones who are missing fundamentals) accountability and self-reliance without letting them fall on their faces TOO hard?
Image courtesy of the Fail Blog

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Ew.

OK, so sometimes I check my stats, because, well, I want to know who stopped by. I mostly see the 3 or so of you who actually read this thing, but I also get a lot of "one-hit wonders", who end up here because of some search term combination.

I generally get a giggle out of the search terms that bring some people here. Some of you will remember the spate of "bifurcated uvula" fans, for instance. Lately, it's been a lot of Betty Boop picture fans.

This morning, however, I checked my stat counter and had not one, but three separate Google hits on "tween boys in bras and panties", who hit on my post awhile back about buying my daughter's first training bras.

And I wonder what the heck triggered three different fans of underage cross-dressers to search on that yesterday. And also I feel an urge to send each of them a note that says, "What the frack?? That's seriously effed up."

Don't get me wrong; I have nothing against cross-dressers. Or those who find them attractive. I think it's that whole gender-bending-kiddie-pron combo that's kinda giving me the oogies inside.

So my word for today is, "Ew."

Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Ooh that rackin' frackin'..

I was all set to fire off a post about how absolutely steaming angry I am at the muddle-headed parents out there who have checked their sanity at the door and pulled their kids out of school rather than have them listen to a speech from our president about the importance of education.

Luckily, you all are spared my Yosemite Sam impression, and instead you can read this post by Lisse over at @ Home in the World, who says what I would have said, but better and without quite so much gnashing of teeth.

But I'm still amazed, confused and offended that there are Americans in this country with their minds clamped so securely shut.


photo credit: someecards.com

Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Tales from the back seat of my car...

One of our new experiences with having two children now is back seat conversations. The Bug has always been one to sing and chatter while she was in the car, but now we have a new dynamic as Bug and Daisy share space behind my head.

Daisy: Bug, why are you sitting on my cheese again???
Bug: Why is your cheese under my butt again??

--

Daisy: Starbucks! Mom, can we stop at Starbuck's for coffee?
Bug (not looking up from her book): Starbucks is full of greedy capitalist pigs...why don't you top it off with a trip to Wal-Mart?
Daisy: What? Good gravy, Bug, can't you speak English for a change??
Bug (still not looking up from her book): Keep yellin', there, Miss Anti-Fair-Trade.
Daisy: Arrrrgh! You're not a nine-year-old! You're an alien!

--

Bug: Mom, can you make me an Arwen costume for Halloween?
Daisy: Mom, can you make me a queen costume, so I can make Bug one of my peasants?
(pause)
Bug: Don't make me Earth-bend you. Again.