Thursday, January 28, 2010

Say Yes to Nukes! (but only the kitchen kind)

I feel compelled to just go ahead and admit this right up front:  I am a Spoiled Modern Woman (in caps, because really, it should be a proud title, or an elite club--Ladies: can't survive without today's time-and-work-saving inventions?  You're one of us!)  I would never have succeeded in Colonial Times, with the cooking over a fire, and the beating clothes in a washtub, and the--ugh--outdoor "plumbing" (Hey, throw in a tent, and it sounds a lot like camping...which explains why I refuse to do that!)

You'll see, then, why Wednesday night's events were so...unsettling to me.  Our story begins innocently enough, with me puttering around the kitchen, preparing an exquisite meal for my family (Alright, it was frozen fish sticks and french fries. At least it was alliterative! Do I get points for that?)  I needed to steam some vegetables--in the microwave, naturally--so I put them in, closed the door, pushed the button...and instead of the familiar whir of power, there was a soft "pop!" And then, eerie silence. Apparently, that was the sound of a small appliance passing over to the Electronic Afterlife (where I hope mine spends some time in Purgatory--it had no business dying after less than 2 years!)

I stood in front of it, staring, hoping for some sign of revival.  But the interior lights were out, the display was dark, and no amount of repeated punching of the keypad, or plugging and unplugging, or even hauling it over to another outlet (on the off-chance it maybe wanted a different kind of electricity--what do I know, I was desperate!) would make it restart.  But there was no time for mourning; I had hungry boys to feed!  I retrieved the bowl of icy green beans from inside the microwave and...stood there, helpless, honestly wondering what I should do with them. (Completely random thought as my blithering brain was trying to come up with options:  I have to think like the Amish!  How to they thaw food?  Well, duh, they don't, since they don't have freezers...sigh... back to our Dinner Dilemma...)

Finally I realized I'd have to--gasp--boil water!  Oh, the inconvenience!  The waiting! The mess I made, scooping the beans (french-cut, therefore skinny) out of the hot water with a slotted spoon!  It was practically Dinner Theatre, it was so dramatic (or perhaps that was just my performance, wiping my brow and playing for sympathy from the crowd.  Didn't work; no tips.)

Fortunately, this is not Little House on the Prairie, where I would have to hitch the horses to the wagon, and ride half a day into town to purchase cooking supplies. So today--less than 24 hours after the Demise of the Microwave--I rushed to Target to replace it. Maybe that seems a little crazy to you, but it's wintertime, it's cold, and I may want tea later.  And I am NOT boiling a pot of water again! (So there!)

Monday, January 25, 2010

I want a 10-second Mom-Delay built into my next radio!

This morning, as the boys and I were headed out for our thrilling, rewarding morning of errands, Derek asked "Can we listen to Hot 99.5 in the car?" It's one of my preset stations and I frequently choose it myself, so I readily agreed. (They play sort of a hip Top-40 mix, stuff like Rihanna, Black Eyed Peas, Kings of Leon, Lady Gaga, with the occasional Taylor Swift thrown in for that sugary-mainstream-pop touch.) When I turned on the radio, a song we all liked was finishing up on another station, so we let it play out.  Then, in a classic, monumental case of bad timing, I switched to 99.5 while we were pulling into a parking space at the library...and just in the nick of time to hear Sarah the DJ laughingly, incredulously say, "How could she not know she was making love with her husband?"

I could have easily broken my index finger, I jabbed at that radio with such force.  I didn't care which button I hit, as long as Sarah's voice disappeared immediately.  (Better yet, 5 seconds ago.) And to think, if I'd only been speeding through the 30-mph zone, rather than driving like a cautious, responsible citizen, we could have avoided this entire unfortunate incident. So now my only hope was that the comment had gone right over my sons' heads. But of course Derek instantly giggled and said "Whaaaat?"  I desperately hoped that was a "what did she say" and not a "what does that mean, Mom?"  Of course Riley quickly, clearly, helpfully repeated "She said 'making love with her husband'...I think."  (Gee, thanks so much for that, buddy.)

And, luckily, it was time to get out of the car.  Right. This. Instant. Thank goodness no one pursued the issue; my scrambled brain, which was already frantically composing yet another vague, G-rated explanation that would both satisfy them and squelch further questions, was able to relax.  However, later in the day Derek requested that I program the radio in his room to Hot 99.5 so he could listen to it. Oh, HECK no, honey (yes, that was the inside-my-head response). I explained that at certain times during the day (the morning show, for instance, when he would be potentially tuning in before school) the DJs use some inappropriate language, and talk about--um--adult topics.  So for now we'll stick to listening to it with supervision, like in the car.  He nodded, accepting this without argument. Then, looking and sounding wise beyond his almost-10 years, he added "sometimes Riley's in my room, and we wouldn't want him to hear that stuff."

No, we certainly do not...now go turn on that nice, wholesome Glee soundtrack (but please, please, PLEASE don't listen too closely to the lyrics for "Bust a Move.")

Friday, January 22, 2010

"Does this Book Have Kissing? 'Cuz I Hate Kissing..."

I am sorry--but also just a wee bit demonically amused (or should that be "de-mom-ically"?  okay, sorry for that...) to report on my 9-year old's newest inner-turmoil. It seems that suddenly his Reading Comprehension Level hit a sharp bump in the road, and dumped him headlfirst into deep, dangerous waters. Oh, was that a little melodramatic?  Let me explain...

Derek has always been a voracious, and (fortunately!) competent, reader.  In the early days he stuck to little I Can Read books with very tame subject matter (P.J.Funnybunny Camps Out--extremely G-rated!).  Then he moved onto short Chapter Books with sports themes (The Dog that Pitched a No-Hitter--baseball AND pets, can't go wrong). Eventually, of course, he craved more of a challenge, and began tackling material like Harry Potter (yes: One. Through. Seven.) and Percy Jackson and the Olympians.  Now, these are written for young people, so there's generally mild bloodshed,  non-vulgar language, and very, VERY chaste romance, if any.  (You see where this is going, right?)

However, Derek can now handle--from a vocabulary and plot-understanding perspective, anyway--more advanced material.  So what happens is: his desire to read more sophisticated books pushes him right up to Preteen Novels, where his 4th-grade Maturity Level kicks into gear, causing what I have dubbed "The "EWWW Response."  He breezed right over the mild love-triangles, emotional teenage angst, and tiny bit of kissing in Harry Potter. He handled the verbal sparring, subtly-expressed affection, and brief hand-holding in Percy Jackson. But now we've moved onto the Artemis Fowl series (which is actually shelved in the Young Adult section at our library...should have been my first clue!).  On the surface, it's still light in the Love Department; but whether it's the way the author describes it, or the fact that Derek is becoming more aware, I'm seeing more wrinkled-nose expressions, pained looks, and barely-concealed chagrin as he reads these books.

Annnnd...he's starting to pose probing questions like:  "When did you first have a boyfriend?" So when he asked, I happily launched into reminiscing for a minute or two, until I peeked over and saw his tortured face, at which point I took pity on him and wrapped it up.  His succinct assessment when I finished?  "Okay, that's gross."  From now on, I have to remember, this is very important:  snicker on the INSIDE, sympathy on the OUTSIDE...otherwise this impending puberty thing is going to be even harder than it needs to be!

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

In this case, "D" is for Delightful!

I realize I talk (okay--whine, moan, complain...) a lot about how Winter isn't exactly my favorite time of the year.  In fact, on my (imaginary) list of Things That Bring Me Joy, it would appear somewhere below "shaving my legs" (which I loathe) and "scooping the litter box" (which I utterly refuse to do...good thing Husband is willing!)  However, this is not going to be about how much Winter sucks!  Aren't you relieved?  (I know I am!)

So anyway, this Winter has been colder--make that MUCH colder--than the last few we've had in Maryland. Normally when the temperature starts heading downward, in the late Fall, my mood follows suit.  These are known as the Dark Days (literally and figuratively...curse those 5 p.m. sunsets!)  I get increasingly cold, which makes me cranky, which makes me want to wrap myself in a fleecy blanket and snooze. But unfortunately I have to get up sometime,which makes me cold...and it becomes a vicious cycle.

I promised you this wasn't going to be an anti-Winter rant, so are you waiting for the big BUT?  Here it comes: things are different this year! Even though it's been frigid, and snowy, and windy, I'm managing it better.  Physically, I'm not quite as icy-cold all the time.  Emotionally, I've been feeling more even-keeled, more positive.  And what has brought about this fabulous improvement, you ask?  Three simple words: Vitamin...D...GUMMIES!  That's right, the Sunshine Vitamin, in tasty, chewy, fruit-flavored bites. I've been reading tons of research lately in my "natural, healthy magazines" about how our indoor-based, SPF-50-wearing society doesn't get enough mood-and-immune-regulating Vitamin D from the actual Sun these days. And it finally sunk in: "hey, we're talking to you!"  So I figured it was worth a try, as an FDA-regulated, relatively inexpensive potential solution to my Winter Disease.  Now I happily pop my D-candy every morning, and you can just call me a Believer.  But don't call me Sunny...I'm not so chipper that I wouldn't smack you!

Thursday, January 14, 2010

Emergency Preparedness...in a Bucket?!

Do you ever have a task on your to-do list that you continually put off...and put off...either because it's something you know will be difficult, or you're not quite sure how to accomplish it, or you just can't seem to get started?  OF COURSE you do!  For me, this chore was:  assembling an Emergency Kit for our house. (And you wonder why this landed somewhere in importance below other jobs such as "grocery shopping", "corralling the dust bunnies", or even "flossing the cat"...just kidding about that last one, by the way).  I felt committed to the fact that we should have one, but day-to-day life kept getting in the way (pesky family: always needing to be clothed, and fed, and nurtured...blah blah blah).  Maybe I was also lulled into a false sense of security, since it seems that Natural Disasters occur all around us--hurricanes, earthquakes, H1N1 outbreaks--yet the Mid Atlantic region tends to escape relatively unscathed.  But it finally hit me that it takes only one Mother Nature Tantrum to throw everything into chaos; and living in a smallish town, as we do, it's easy to imagine being isolated by a Catastrophic Event of one kind or another.

So I had been collecting brochures and lists in a file for quite some time, such as the ones published by Pepco (our local power company), Good Housekeeping magazine, and the Montgomery County Department of Public Health, to name a few.  However, even though I was armed with all the information I needed to construct a kick-butt Disaster Preparedness kit, I dragged my feet...and stalled some more...and, well, you get the idea.  Why, you ask?  Because the idea of bringing this looong list to, say, Target, and painstakingly searching for the items, and piling them up in the cart, and checking them off, fell somewhere between "daunting" and "Fifth Circle of Hell" in my mind.  (The MontCo booklet is 6 pages, for crying out loud!  And the Pepco list has 21 items on it, and some of them are categories, not individual things!)

But then I had an amazing brainstorm; as is so often the answer these days...I Googled it. (Memo to Self: should be the FIRST THOUGHT when faced with any dilemma.  Duh!)  Of course, there is a plethora of sites where you can buy ready-made kits, for your house, for your car, for travel (backpack version), even for your pet! (I am not making this up--one specifically for cats, one for dogs.  No comment...except that I did not purchase one.)  I ended up choosing the Deluxe 4-person, 3-day Survival Kit.  It includes "energy food bars, water boxes with straws, water purification tablets, NASA-designed emergency blankets, ponchos, tent, duct tape, can opener, plastic sheeting, solar/hand crank powered charger, lightsticks, candles, matches, first-aid supplies, whistle, dust masks, gloves, Swiss army knife, utility cord, sanitation bags, toilet chemicals, tissues"...all contained in a 5-gallon bucket...that can act as your "latrine" (trying to be delicate...and REALLY trying not to think about using a bucket...although I did pay extra for the "snap-on seat" to make it more comfortable...eww)

How fabulous is that?  With a few clicks, I bought (at least a little) peace of mind, delivered to my doorstep, without having to do the drudge work of hunting down the components myself.  And really, I wouldn't have thought of HALF that stuff, or known where to find the other half.  (NASA blankets? Yeah, right. Do they sell those at CVS?)  God willing, we'll never have to rely on our Deluxe 4-person, 3-day Survival Kit to get us through an emergency situation; but it will be here, in the basement, if we do.  Until then, let's hear a rousing cheer for the previously underappreciated Miracle of Indoor Plumbing!



Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Educating Mom...(again!)

As a parent--although of course I'd prefer my children to continue believing that I know it all, for as long as possible--I do realize that my education is an ongoing process.  As such, I'm currently studying 1st grade (for the second time, in case I missed anything a few years ago) and 4th grade (to catch up on what I might have missed since I was in elementary school...in the 70's...yikes!)  The great news is: the alphabet and numbers we use are PRECISELY the same as when I was a kid!  The bad news is: you guessed it, absolutely everything else seems to have changed.  Here's just a small sample of Education in the New Millennium: there's no "borrowing" or "carrying" digits in math problems; it's "regrouping" (and honestly, it makes perfect sense when you learn it this way...along with your 6-year old).  Derek recently finished a science unit that involved identifying distinguishing features of fingerprints (that'll reveal who made off with your favorite pencil, right?), and Riley regaled us tonight with the information that "cotton and polyester are not waterproof, but wool and nylon are!" (I hope they were using fabric swatches, and not each others' clothing to test this!)

Okay, that covers math and science, which I suppose we should expect to have evolved, with updated research, new technology, etc. But I thought I could count on good old reading and writing. Those are familiar, constant subjects, unchanged by time...aren't they?  Well, I sauntered into 4th grade to volunteer one day, holding onto exactly that comfortable assumption.  I sat and listened attentively (being a good role model, you know) while Derek's teacher reviewed a short story with the class.  She was about to dismiss them to go do their written assignment, when she held up a finger for one last reminder:  "Remember when analyzing the story, be sure to use "Swibus"!  she said brightly.  Wait, I'm sorry, WHAT?  I don't think I have a Swibus.  Am I supposed to?  Actually it sounds kind of painful...aargh, they're going to throw me out of 4th grade! (fortunately, all this was Internal Parental Meltdown.) And I had been doing so well up until then!

Since I was supposed to be assisting these 9-year olds, guiding them in the writing process, shaping their young minds, as it were...I hastily cornered Mrs. W and hissed out of the corner of my mouth, hopefully too quietly to be heard by the students, "Um, what the heck is a "Swibus?" She grinned reassuringly and explained: "It's a way to retell the most important details of a story.  S.W.B.S.  Somebody (the main character) Wants (their motivation) But (the major problem confronting them) So (what they do to resolve the issue)."  (I guess since 4th graders are just so darn cool, they made an abbreviation to remember it; you know, "Hey, have you finished your SWBS, dude"!)  Oh, well when you put it that way, it's not so so daunting--who's afraid of the big, bad Swibus?

I was relieved that I wasn't suddenly losing my hearing--or my mind--in the middle of the 4th grade...and I was even more pleased when Riley brought his homework home on Monday and I saw the instructions: "read your story, then  write about Somebody Wants But So."  Oh, sure, Swibus!  We're all over it!

Thursday, January 7, 2010

Name-calling, lifted to a whole new level!

Everyone who knows me is aware that I LOVE to read.  Well, that's actually not nearly strong enough, let's say I devour books. I always have a stack from the library on my nightstand, and as soon as I finish one, I move on to the next. I read while brushing my teeth (always have, for as long as I can remember, and I can't imagine how people can just...stand there...for 2 boring minutes without a book to pass the time.)  When I was a (shy, chubby, clumsy) kid, and my exasperated mother ordered me to "go outside and get some fresh air", I would grab a book and head to the front yard, where I would then plop myself down to read in the sunshine. Anyway, you get the picture.

So it's no surprise at all that my kids are already avid readers themselves.  Derek recently said to me, "Mom, I want to go to Barnes & Noble and buy some books." I pointed out that we have a perfectly good public library less than a mile away, where they let you walk out with as many FREE books as you can carry.  "Yes," he patiently responded, "but I want to have books to keep, so I can read them over and over." How could I argue with that?  I myself have a bookcase in the basement full of favorites that I've acquired over the years, special volumes that I return to time and again, because I enjoy them with each and every re-read. (Jeez, he IS becoming a mini-me...)

Fortunately, he has also developed my  predilection toward fantasy stories...boy wizards, Greek gods come to life, elves and sprites: the more fantastical, the better!  Thus we recently purchased and bulldozed our way through the entire Percy Jackson & the Olympians series (5 stars, and 2 thumbs up--well, really 8 thumbs, since we all loved it).  Now I've introduced Derek to a boy genius/criminal mastermind called Artemis Fowl, whom I discovered several years ago and am revisiting right along with him. The stories are set in Ireland, and chronicle Artemis' various adventures with the "Lower Elements", or in other words: the Fairy World.  The books are suspenseful, funny, and clever, and lead to some lively discussions around the dinner table (since Husband has also gotten sucked into reading them along with us...all part of my Dastardly Plan...to, um,wait, I've got it...form our own Book Club!?  Nevermind, I'm clearly no good with evil plots.)

However, the introduction of this new Supernatural Realm has had other unexpected repercussions as well. For example, Riley and Derek were bantering playfully back and forth yesterday, until Riley effectively terminated the argument by calling Derek a "Punk Fairy."  So for those of you keeping score, it was:
Derek--speechless; Riley--Winner! (Mom--convulsed with laughter, trying desperately not to spit out her coffee.)  Just a classic example of what useful-life-information you can glean from quality children's literature!

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

The REAL answer is: not until you're 25!

Today Derek sauntered into the room where I was working, cheeks red from playing outside, and without any preamable whatsoever casually asked "Do you mind if I date someone?" I had been staring at the computer screen until his sudden appearance, so it took a few seconds for me to formulate any kind of response other than what was galloping through my head, which was something along the order of: "NO NO NO--NOT A CHANCE--FORGET ABOUT IT--DUDE, YOU'RE 9!"  I was further confused by his tone...so nonchalant, as if he was merely asking "can I have some grapes before dinner?"  There was no warning, no "Mommy, I have a serious question to ask you", no red banner waving in front of my face to get my attention before this inquiry.

When I (somewhat) had my wits about me once more, I responded, "well, who do you want to date?" (like that's the issue, here, right?  because as long as you have the right girl, honey, go for it!)  I hoped my own voice was as calm and reasonable as his had been, and that he wasn't wise to my internal Mommy Freak-Out.  But his next statement put my mind at ease:  "Psh, no one," he scoffed, "I just wanted to know if it was okay." (Wait: here comes the kicker...) "Ellen (not her real name, the little neighborhood troublemaker) said if you told me no, I should just do it anyway."  Oh, REALLY? Well, let Ellen get her own (8 year old, by the way) patootie in trouble all she wants, but you keep right on checking with me first!  I also learned during this very informative little chat that another neighbor, a 6th-grade boy, advised Derek that "4th grade is a great time to get a girlfriend." (I suppose he does know everything, since he now lives in the mystical land of Middle School. But I wonder what made him tag 4th grade as the Time to Date? Can you imagine the courtship banter?  "Hey, baby, wanna ride my scooter? I can see PG movies now!  Can I get you a juice box?")

Following that train of thought (hoping not to careen right off the tracks in a fiery crash), I commented "You had a girlfriend last year at school, right?" "Yeah," Derek griped, "but every time she walked into my classroom, J (his best friend, incidentally) said, ooh, there's Derek's girlfriend!"  I can see how a boy might find this mortifying (and kudos to Derek for not smacking his best buddy--at least while his teacher was looking.) So I believe (fingers and toes crossed) we're still safe for now.  Girls might not have cooties anymore, but I don't think they're all that appealing to Derek in "that way" yet.  Knowing Derek, he's probably just trying to figure out what the fuss is about, so he will know what's going on when the time comes...in about another decade or so!