Monday, April 30, 2012

They're scary when they organize...

You know those "critical life skills" parents are always trying to beat their children over the head with--I mean instill in their kids in a systematic, sustained manner? I'm talking about the wisdom that will help them make good decisions and become successful when they grow up. Such as, just for a completely hypothetical example, when you start early, teaching your children to respect the value of money, manage it carefully, and deliberate thoroughly before spending it? Well, I'm here to tell you that sometimes those lessons, meant to enlighten and empower your children for the future...rebound back on you in the present...and bite you in the...tushie.

A quick background summary: for Christmas in 2009, Husband and I decided to bite the bullet and purchase a Wii for the (previously 100% video-game-free) family. Meanwhile, Derek saved his own allowance to buy himself a DSi, then saved again when he craved an iTouch (the latter bought under a special financing plan with the Bank of Mom, the terms of which involved Derek supplying half of the cost, and Parents providing matching funds to complete the deal, as his Christmas present.) Riley obtained his DS by cleverly informing the grandparents, his aunt, and his uncle that it was the only present he wanted for his birthday one year. Voila, group gift! That brings us to the current situation: Derek is the sole person in the house who ever even touches the Wii, or chooses games at birthday and holiday time to add to its library. He downloads (mostly free) apps to his iTouch fairly often. Riley almost exclusively plays with his DS.

Soooo, this morning, they suddenly hit me with a modest proposal: now they'd like to trade the Wii...for a PS3. Yes, an entirely different platform, starting over with new games. What the? I think Derek mistook my initial stunned silence for disapproval, as he hastened to add, "Because, you know, we only need ONE system, not TWO!" (Yeah, because that's the concept I was struggling with...I suppose I should count my blessings that he has the sense to set reasonable limits for himself, right? Fortunately, I already had in hand an extra-large mug of coffee on this Sunday morning, so I could begin to process his request...because believe me, this was only the introduction to a rational, well-orchestrated presentation that eventually included FLOWCHARTS, and sequenced steps for achieving the goal, and specific monetary figures for how it would be accomplished. Aaaargh! Who's responsible for creating these nerdlings? Oh...yeah...sigh...)

Derek "The Mastermind" explained his vision thusly (pay attention, it's somewhat complicated): We would sell the Wii on Craigslist (yes, they're familiar with this process...also my fault) and Mom would get the money, then Derek would pass on his (newer, fancier) DSi to Riley. Riley would then be able to sell his own DS and pocket those proceeds. Later, whenever the DSi was sold, Derek would receive that cash. In the meantime, Derek would pool his recent birthday giftcards and cash allotment to put toward the new game console. When I mentioned that we might be able to do another half-and-half arrangement, Derek advised (and I am not making this up), "You just focus on saving for my college education, Mom--I'll take care of the video games." (I don't know whether to be proud, touched, or horrified? A little of each?) Oh, and lest I forget, Riley has his own goal: to sock away his allowance until his birthday, add whatever gift money he might get, and buy...a PS Vita (a handheld portable system...to replace the DSi...of course).

Then, just in case I was still a bit confused on any of the finer points, Derek drew it all out on paper, with color-coding, bold labels, and helpful arrows to clarify the process as he sees it. I figure I got off easy--at least he didn't ask to make a Power Point Slideshow! Still, this whole scenario seems more complicated than buying our last car was...but I'm sure with the guidance of the WestEnders Tech Department (yeah, that would be our sons) we'll make it through somehow. Maybe I should file away those visuals, just to be certain...

Thursday, April 26, 2012

Lessons of the Day...

Some parents lament the fact that when their beloved offspring trudge home at the end of a long, grueling (at least to hear them tell it) day of academic rigor, they only manage a brief response to the inevitable parental query, "How was school, honey?" Mom or Dad wait with interest and attention, ready to hear and discuss the minutest details of their child's surely fascinating learning experience. And to their disappointment, instead of colorful stories and charming anecdotes, they get tired grunts or a monosyllabic summary: "It was fine." I sympathize with these parents, starved for information...and just to demonstrate my support and understanding, I offer to lend them my own two sons: Descriptive Derek and Rambling Riley.

Yes, my boys often seek me out the second they crash their way in through the kitchen door, after dropping their backpacks to the floor with a house-shaking thud. In case I somehow missed these initial warning noises (such as...if I were in a coma...or several states away), they then thunder up the stairs (sounding as though there are at least a dozen of them, like an invading after-school army...of one) and burst into my room to recount the events of the day...And just let me be clear: I truly mean: All. The. News.

For instance, Derek might begin with P.E. (1st period) and tell me about his football team. He will be certain to include the names of each player, what position they held, how many points were scored, and the manner in which each pass was thrown, caught, or intercepted. If he had a test in any class, I get a report on how difficult or easy it was, and what grade he predicts that he earned. Any moments from Lunch that made him laugh (and at a table full of 12-year old boys, these tend to be numerous) and aren't deemed "too offensive or inappropriate for Mom's taste" (this cuts down on the potential narratives quite a bit, as you can imagine) will be duly related. Any of his friends that I personally know, who did something ridiculous or embarrassing during class, are sure to merit a mention. (And can I tell you how much I L-O-V-E relaying these special moments to the other kids' moms...at soccer games on the weekends? Hey, if their child is coming home with "Derek Tales", I want them to feed me the exclusive scoop as well! What's that famous saying? It takes a village...to spy on your children! Right?)


Finally, if he happens to be involved in a particularly enlightening or entertaining project, I might be treated to an update on his progress. This happened yesterday, when he told me about an Economics lesson that had occurred in Social Studies, related to personal budgeting and finances. The way he summarized it: students drew a random "job description" and then had to figure out how to manage their living expenses based on their income. Derek ended up with...McDonald's. He indignantly laid out the cold, hard facts: "I earned $1,200 a month. I couldn't even afford a 2-bedroom apartment! I narrowly avoided having to live in my mom and dad's basement!" Then he added, "Sadly...for me AND for you guys!" He continued, "I had to take public transportation because I couldn't afford even a used car. I had to buy discount clothes. ("Eh, he should be used to this anyway", I thought...) I had to bring brown bag lunches...and eat leftovers on weekends! (Um, yeah...this is also familiar territory...and remember, it's sensible behavior, not punishment, sweetie!) He shook his head--I can only suppose at the injustice of it all--and I thought it a prudent time for the Parental Plug: "That's why you go to college, dear...and study very hard!"

A scant hour after Derek has wrapped up his Special Edition Show, Riley comes barreling in for his turn in the spotlight. Then it's time for the 3rd-grade happenings,which often feature a segment we'll call "Silly Things My Friends Did or Said". Featuring 8-year old boys with a very high nonsense-quotient, this part can go on for a while. Next we generally move on to "How I Spent Recess"--who Riley played with, what game occupied their time, the outcome of the contest. If something out-of-the-ordinary transpired, like an assembly or a fire drill, this is given a passing note. If there was something especially fun in Reading, or challenging in Math, he dutifully fills me in. Then he conscientiously shows me any newfangled techniques he's using in class to solve arithmetic problems, so I'll be fully up-to-speed when supervising his homework. Finally he also concludes with an in-depth recap of any big assignments he's working on or finishing up.

For example, one recent group project examined whether or not a (fictional) community should build a mall. Riley was placed on the panel of Environmentalists, to debate the topic with the other groups: local Parents, Small Business Owners, and representatives of the Mall-Development Committee. According to my little tree-hugger, a lively conversation ensued, in which his team focused on the increases in pollution, traffic, and noise that a mall would bring, as well as the environmental impact of removing trees and relocating animals to make room for the large structure. (Jeez, you'd think his mother was some kind of crunchy granola "every day is Earth Day" type, right? Oh, wait...) Additional concerns were voiced by the Small Business Owners, who naturally worried about being forced out by the competition, and the Parents, who wondered if having a mall in their neighborhood would lead to more crime and (this is funny) more whining by their children to go shopping and spend money. (!) Partial solutions proposed included inviting the Small Business Owners to remain in place until the construction was completed, then relocate into the new Shopping Center, and then using the space formerly occupied by those stores to create a new park for the entire neighborhood to enjoy. Holy Municipal Planning Commission, Batman, these kids are practicing to run the world! (And much sooner than we think, by the sound of it, yes?)

So, what I took away from this is that we needn't fret about our kids' futures...they're apparently absorbing valuable lessons about how to become money-managing moguls...while simultaneously saving the world. I just might go ahead and retire right now!

Monday, April 23, 2012

Second...but still special!

I grew up in a family with two siblings...well, sort of. What I mean is: I was a solo child for seven years, until my little sister came along. By that point, I was already in second grade, off doing my own thing, and viewed the baby as somewhat of a novelty (like a very realistic doll...or possibly an alien visitor) rather than an actual, you know, person. (This is all entirely conjecture, as I don't clearly recall my childhood feelings on the subject.) Until the time I left for college, of course, I was always the "oldest kid", thoroughly enjoying the perks and privileges commensurate with that position. Because of the age difference, my sister and I didn't really develop a friendship to speak of (changing diapers and babysitting don't allow for much of this) until she was older and we could interact with one another as adults. Also noteworthy as background to our topic of the day (which I promise to reward your patience by arriving at very shortly): Husband is an Only Child, so had no other kids around to compete/share/bond with in his household. Why do I mention this? (Besides the obvious allure of talking about myself to a spellbound audience...ha!) Because what we're experiencing right now at Team WestEnders is completely unfamiliar territory...a case of Second Child Syndrome.

Now, there's only about a 3-year age gap between Derek and Riley, meaning that they do have a close connection with each other. But every once in a while that span of 40 months seems to stretch into a wide chasm separating older from younger brother. For example, Riley was born near the end of the Summer, and just two weeks later, Derek skipped off to Preschool for the first time. He also already belonged to a tightly-knit Playgroup of friends he'd "met" when he was only 5 months old. As the solo child for those first 3 years, he benefited from being Mommy's Explore-the-World Buddy. He attended Mom's Club field trips, took kiddie classes for fun and enrichment, and commandeered my full attention for his brief-but-stimulating "Only Child Period".

On the other hand, there's poor Riley. As an infant, he naturally got dragged around to all these exciting activities--even though he doesn't remember, and didn't get anything out of it. He got included in Playgroup adventures--as did all the younger siblings--but didn't form the same close relationship with the other Second Kids that the older ones shared. By the time Derek sprinted off to full-day Kindergarten, I'd kind of grown weary of the Mom's Club agenda. Consequently, Riley didn't get treated to the full slate of educational and entertaining events that his brother had...because Mommy had already "been there, done that". (Sooooorry, sweetie!) I'm not saying I put him in a playpen and ignored him all day, or that we just sat inside the house and stared at each other...but Riley got subjected to a lot more of the "Mom's gotta get this done, so strap in for the ride" type of stuff. (And anyway, who says Target or Giant Food can't be a load of laughs?) Then there was the inevitable "Hand-Me-Down" phenomenon. While Derek got all of the new clothes and toys, Riley wore whatever his big brother didn't damage or dirty beyond saving...and played with things his older sibling had outgrown or tossed aside in boredom.

And you know what? Most of the time, Riley doesn't seem to either notice--or care--about the drawbacks to being born second. He adores his big brother, wants to spend time with him, tries to be just like him (although he honestly is probably not even aware of this, and would vehemently deny it if confronted with the evidence). It doesn't bother him to receive already-worn clothing or broken-in toys--sometimes he even gets a kick out of recognizing "this used to be Derek's, and now it's mine"--as though it's a precious gift from his sibling, and not just something that was passed on to get more use out of it. (Shh! Don't tell him I said that!) He never minded (or again, maybe didn't register) not going on his own special excursions, because frankly, he'd rather include Derek anyway and go somewhere together.

But every once in a while, a smidge of Second Child jealousy rears its head. Like when Derek carefully socks away his allowance over several months until he accumulates enough to buy a cool new electronic gadget...that Riley then envies. (But doesn't have the patience or perseverance to scrimp and save for, himself!) Or the times his older, more socially-savvy brother, who already has an established group of school friends he's been palling around with since elementary school, quickly and easily arranges his own playdates, sleepovers, what have you. This leaves Riley wondering plaintively, "Mom, when can I invite a friend over?" And here's a True Parent Confession: I'm just not as good about setting up after-school or weekend things for Riley. With Derek, I am personally acquainted with most of his friends AND their parents, so it's no big deal. But Riley's peer group is largely unknown to me, so it feels a little more...awkward...even a little scary...to send him off to some stranger's house. (Even though I'm sure they're very nice people, don't get me wrong!)

But the clearest clue provided by Riley--that he sometimes wants a little more of the spotlight--came during a family discussion one evening. I forget the circumstances, but we were reminiscing about vacations we'd taken, and mentioned that Derek and I have actually gone on several trips together, by ourselves (Rochester, Milwaukee, and Florida--Riley might forgive us that last one, since he did technically accompany us...in utero!) Riley affected a slight pout (his standard warning sign that he's about to pull the "I'm so cute you must give in to my demands" card) and asked, "Can we go somewhere, just you and me?" I replied, "Suuuuure, honey, where do you want to go?" I'm thinking: "Costco? Toys 'R Us?" How ambitious could my 8-1/2 year old be with this request? He thought for a moment or two, then decisively answered, "Atlanta!" Whoa! Dude, that's a...plane ride...and everything! I stalled by projecting a reaction filled with surprise and reluctance--but in my head I had instantly begun plotting...let's see, there's a baseball stadium there, and lots of other fun stuff to do...and I know two families that live in the area who might be willing to loan us some guest bedroom space...this might be do-able! Plus erase some of my Mom Guilt while we're at it: Win/Win! So, to my peeps in the Peach State, you're officially on notice: we might be headed your way...sometime...I'll keep you posted! (In the meantime, to reinforce to Riley that he's not always Number 2, maybe I can get away with a nice local outing one day...just you and me at Home Depot, baby, it'll be a blast!)

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Boys, unfiltered...

Today I present the most recent collection of "My Sons' Goofy Behavior". (To be honest, silliness is kind of the standard around here, but these are just the latest incidents that stand out. I'm not sure what that says about our family...except that as the only female in the house, I get away with ascribing most nonsense to the y-chromosome. This actually gets me off the hook for quite a lot--gross references, impolite bodily functions, vulgar expressions--NONE of this is ever my fault! Ah, it's good to be the Queen...

Anyway, our first event occurred, as these things so often do in our house, over dinner one day. Everyone was chatting, preparing to dig into their food, when Husband asked if anyone hadn't yet gotten a drink to go with their meal. "Yeah, does anyone need to wet their whistle?" I cheerfully inquired. (Do not ask me where I had that stored away, or why such an outdated expression suddenly popped out of my mouth. Sometimes these things just happen...) There was silence for a few seconds. Then Riley, a quizzical and confused expression on his face, blurted out, "Wet your...weasel?" Clearly he'd taken a beat to try to figure out the puzzling statement in his head before requesting clarification. But the rest of us were utterly useless, as we had dissolved into hysterical giggles already. When Derek recovered enough to both breathe and talk, he still didn't help, as he immediately launched into a discussion of how, even if it was a good idea to moisten a weasel, they probably wouldn't appreciate having chocolate milk dumped all over them. (Yeah, 'cuz that's the real issue here. Thanks, Big Brother. But the serious explanation wasn't half as interesting, so it seemed a good idea to just let it go...)

Next, we have one of those myriad "don't blame me" moments. (Which also, it should be noted, I wasn't even present for--but evidently it caused such amusement that it required reporting...for what purpose, I couldn't speculate...unless it was to earn a coveted Mom Glare?) Derek was at soccer practice, kicking a ball around, warming up with his teammates. Coach was ready to gather the troops and run some drills, so he called out for all the players to "grab their balls and meet me in front of the goal". Can you just picture what Derek did, in response to this? Yes, that's right, he went the literal route...earning him a big snort of laughter from one of the other Dads helping out. (Great, reward him for his obnoxiousness...this will only encourage him to continue!) When the story was relayed to me by Husband later that evening, Derek's only (completely unabashed, unrepentant) comment was, "What? I'm a guy!" (I have an apprehensive feeling I'll be hearing that excuse more and more in the coming years...sigh.)

Finally, as proof that Derek has not yet reached the pinnacle of his potential goofball-ness...we have last night's after-dinner scene. Having cleaned his plate (per usual), he wanted to know, "What's for dessert...my homey?" Even funnier--it didn't even faze me the slightest bit to hear this emanate from my 12-year old son's mouth. I simply replied, "I. Am. NOT. Your. Homey." He readily concurred, "Yeah, right...you're my Mommy." He allowed the slightest of pauses before adding, "But 'what's for dessert, my Mommy' doesn't have the same ring to it...I might lose my Street Cred!" Okay, that did it: now, I was incredulous. "I'm sorry, your WHAT?" I sputtered, as he just stood there grinning hugely at me with an unmistakable twinkle in his eye. Um, I hate to break it to you, my little rebel, but if you take a long, hard look around, you'll notice that your 'mean streets'...are the sidewalks of suburbia! So good luck with that Street Cred...in the Middle School jungle. Now finish your ice cream sandwich and go do your homework! (Because Mommy needs some quality testosterone-free time!)

Monday, April 16, 2012

Ch-ch-changes

Today, in honor of my older son's 12th birthday, I'm thought I'd play a little game I like to call Then and Now. Here are some of the ways Derek has changed since he made his debut--3 weeks ahead of schedule, I might point out--on April 16th, 2000:

Then: He was a scrawny peanut of a boy, at just under 6 pounds, and 18-1/2 inches long. When he was a newborn and for most of his first year, his pediatrician voiced ongoing concerns about keeping his weight gain moving forward, since he struggled to remain in the 25th percentile or so.
Now: He reaches my forehead (5 foot 1-ish?), and weighs in at a solid 88 pounds. This means he has packed on about 24 pounds in the last 2 years. Suffice it to say, his pediatrician is no longer worried. (Any angst now rests firmly with his mother, as she trots to the grocery store every few days to purchase enough food to satisfy our "growing boy".)

Then: On a related note, Derek suffered from reflux during his first 18 months, causing him to spit up frequently and be an understandably (but nevertheless frustratingly) fussy eater.
Now: Anyone who sits down to a meal with Derek has learned to guard their own plate and not turn their eyes away for even a second! Derek loves food, all kinds, and the more there is, the more thrilled he'll be.

Then: a cautious-but-curious baby, Derek spent a great deal of time standing up, holding onto furniture, taking in his surroundings. We believe this is why he never crawled--he had absolutely no interest in looking at the ground or being down that low. As soon as he learned to walk by holding onto mine and Husband's fingers, that's all he wanted to do...for five, looooong months until he at long last worked up the nerve to do it on his own. A mini-perfectionist, he put off the attempt until he felt completely ready...but once he finally let go, he cruised around with complete confidence, never seeming to stumble or fall down.
Now: I wouldn't call him reckless, exactly, but he's game to try just about anything. He climbs trees, practices skateboarding tricks, conquers ziplining courses, scales rocks, and leaps fearlessly over deep crevices while hiking. The careful toddler has stretched into quite an adventurous pre-teen.

Then:  And speaking of adventures, as a munchkin, Derek enjoyed taking rides in the stroller. To Starbucks, to CVS, around the neighborhood--he was content to relax in his little chariot while Mom did all the exercising.
Now: Derek hasn't met a workout he doesn't like...although to him, it's more "fun" than "something I must do to stay in shape". During his school's monthly timed Fun Runs, his fastest mile is 7 minutes, 11 seconds. (I can state with a great deal of certainty that I have NEVER covered a mile that fast in my entire life.) He joined Husband for a jog one day, and they completed over 4 miles, with Derek breathing just as easily at the end as when he began. Last night, he rode his bike with me for more than an hour. And 5-mile Appalacian Trail or State Park hikes add up to "Family Weekend Strolls". (This gives his parents all the incentive we need to maintain our own fitness...gotta keep up with the whippersnappers!)

Then: Always interested in music, Derek loved listening to hip kiddie classics by such notables as the Laurie Berkner Band (bless her, she made boppable tunes that even I would sing along to in the car, without wanting to cover my ears or tear my hair out). Then, very early on, he picked up the words to some Clash songs. (He once sang Lost in the Supermarket...you guessed it: in the supermarket! And proceeded to earn a few startled looks by spontaneously breaking into Bank Robber--"Daddy was, a bank robber, but he never hurt nobody".) His other favorite was some guy named Jimmy Buffett. (This prompted him to request Cheeseburger in Paradise from our favorite family-friendly-outdoor-playing-cover-band, on more than one occasion.)
Now: With a full-sized drum set and an iPod, he can be heard (from two floors away, mind you) banging along to the likes of AC/DC, Black Sabbath, and the Scorpions. It's like...experiencing OzzFest...in our basement (but fortunately, without the TicketMaster service charges...or raucous fans...or inevitable Police presence!)

Then: Derek had simple tastes in entertainment: give him an episode of Elmo's World, the Wiggles, or Go, Diego, Go and he was satisfied. Read Horton Hears a Who to him every night before bed (maybe mixing in a little If You Give a Mouse a Cookie for parental sanity) and he'd blissfully drift off to sleep. And when he got his own Leapster, the educational handheld toy that acts as a very first video game, he was positively giddy. (Match upper and lower case letters! Uncover facts about animals! Add and subtract! Learning can be HOURS of fun, I tell ya!)
Now: Derek is likely to be found hunched over his iTouch, completing super-secret missions in one of his action/strategy games. Or in front of the TV playing a virtual game of soccer or baseball with the Wii. His viewing tastes tend to lean toward European Soccer matches, Food Network (as long as it's a competitive show, with Winners and Losers...you know, like a...sporting event...with stuff to eat) or Discovery Channel documentaries (penguins and polar bears, sharks and whales, lions and tigers, chimps and gorillas: we're total suckers for the entire Animal Kingdom). And when it's time to curl up with a good book, he's likely these days to tackle the Lord of the Rings or Hunger Games trilogies--and you'd better be prepared to analyze and discuss them when he's done, so be sure to do your homework before Family Book Club Meeting!

Yes, it's true he's grown quite a bit--both literally and figuratively--over the past dozen years. But even when he's officially taller than me (which I am resigned to admit will almost certainly occur by his next birthday), he'll still be my baby...and be required to obey his Mom!

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Oh, boy(s)

So often, as parents, you see yourself reflected in your children. This can be readily apparent, of course--such as Derek being built tall and thin like his father, or both boys inheriting exactly the same shade of blue eyes that I have. Or it may show up in more subtle ways...Derek's easygoing personality (from Husband, obviously) or Riley's stubborn streak (from...um, gosh, I have no idea! And the sarcasm? They earned that from both parties, so we're doomed...) But it sometimes happens that your beloved offspring, the ones you lovingly carried for nine months and joyfully brought into this world...suddenly behave like bizarre creatures you don't even recognize...leaving you scratching your head in bewilderment, wondering if they'd been switched overnight with some changelings...or just dropped on their heads during school hours.

Can you tell, this was one of those nights? I suppose it all started when the brothers decided to have a good old-fashioned Nerf War (kinda like a Turf War--except it's inside...and uses attack-items that are more...spongy, than deadly). You see, they've slowly been acquiring foam weaponry over the last several months, culminating in Derek receiving a hatchet for Easter (and yes, I realize how absolutely ridiculous that sounds...but Jesus was a young boy, once, so he might understand?) and a sword for his birthday. Well, then, there's really nothing to do but whale on your sibling for some wholesome afternoon fun! I made sure to stay well out of range, but could hear the whooping and giggling through the closed bedroom door as they battled fiercely. (Although for what reward, precisely, I couldn't tell you. The honorable claim to Derek's laundry pile? The privilege of lying on his bed? Because trust me, there were no fair maidens to impress, in the vicinity of Chez Derek.) But suddenly there came a cry of pain, followed by an abrupt halt in the skirmish. Then Derek stalked into my room and announced quite huffily, "Riley hit me with the hatchet...in the balls!" He fairly bubbled over with righteous indignation, but my response was a decidedly unsympathetic, "Yeah? And?" As in: what did you expect to happen in this close-quarters, no-mercy duel situation? And what the heck do you think I should do about it? Issue a Royal Disqualification of Knight Riley? Oh, and by the way, it's a SQUISHY TOY, how much could it hurt? (Says the only person in the house without...male parts. The message was clear: "Eh, shake it off, dude!" Am I a jaded Mother of Boys? Why yes, yes I am!) So, not having achieved the satisfactory response he sought, he turned and slunk back to his room...but I noticed that a cease-and-desist was called. (Meanwhile, Riley brought me a neatly-written list...of Nerf playthings he wishes to add to his "armory". Should my 8-1/2 year old even know that word, much less how to use it properly? Even worse, these most-wanted tools-of-destruction include: something called a Vendetta Double Sword...and a Battlemaster Mace Ax. Oh. Dear. I sense many more head-to-head clashes in our immediate future. No one's ever gone to the Emergency Room with a grave...styrofoam injury...though, right?)

Then, later in the evening--when it was almost bedtime, as a matter of fact--Riley went completely off the deep end. From the top of the stairs, I caught a random comment about--I'm not making this up--smelling someone's armpit. Why, oh why, can't I just pretend to miss these things? I could play the "selective hearing" card and just fail to acknowledge it! But nooooo, that never happens. Instead, I instantly yelled up to him, "There will be no smelling of armpits!" (Really? Like that even needs to be stated? Oh well, too late now...) Evidently Riley, in his giddy pre-wind-down state of hysteria, thought it would be an excellent plan to systematically sniff each of his family members. Like some kind of...B.O.-detecting dog, or some such nonsense. I really couldn't tell you what his ultimate goal was...training his nose to discriminate odors? Clearing his sinuses?) Since I had just showered, he reported the scent of: soap. (Whew! I guess I passed.) On Derek, he announced, he got a whiff of: shirt. Then he stuck his nose right up next to Husband's...underarm area...and proclaimed that his nose found "shirt...with a hint of armpit." (As if judging the aroma of fine cuisine--I swear he's cut off from watching any more Food Network shows from now on!) As we all laughed at his silliness (and wondered if he'd secretly gotten into some Dr. Pepper after dinner, because honestly he was a wee bit manic at this point) he did an about-face and squeaked, "Oh no, don't look at me, I don't want to draw attention to myself!" He punctuated this absurd sentence by covering his eyes, racing over to Derek, and cowering behind his brother's back. (Derek, it should be noted, was fairly useless by now, laughing so hard he was having difficulty remaining upright on the kitchen stool.) I can only fervently hope that Riley--now safely and quietly in bed--sleeps it off and wakes up...somewhere approaching "normal".

Nights like these, I just scratch my head in disbelief and confusion. I don't know where these monkey-boys came from or what possesses them to act this way. When all else fails, though, I fall back on the tried-and-true explanation: it must be something genetic...from Husband's side!

Saturday, April 7, 2012

News and Notes

We here at Station RJDR like to keep you fully up-to-date on all the latest happenings...or at least those that occur at the end of our quiet cul-de-sac, that is. We'll start with the Weather, which has been delightfully Spring-y in this first part of April. Sunshine, breezes, moderate temperatures...and astronomically high levels of pollen. Yes, the forecast for the immediate future calls for serial sneezing, rampant nose-blowing, and itchy eyes. (I know this for an absolute fact, since I have pollen.com bookmarked on my computer...'cuz that's just the kind of dork I am...) On to the Sports Report! Due to the increased hours of sunshine, our young resident athletes have been using their time to practice extensively. Backyard soccer shootouts, driveway basketball tournaments, bullpen pitching sessions, (No, we don't really have our own bullpen--I just had to continue the theme) not to mention the "cross-training" opportunities provided by biking up and down the street...and helping Husband spread mulch.

Now we'll take a break from the hard news to share an amusing anecdote. Riley came into my room this morning while I was playing a game on my iTouch. Noting that I was industriously trying to hurl incensed avians at smirking porkers, he said, "Hey, Mom, you should check to see if they have any other Angry Birds games...like Angry Squirrels, or something!" Without thinking, without considering the foolhardiness of my actions or the potential consequences, I absentmindedly asked, "Why would squirrels be angry?" (Yeah, because I should totally encourage this line of questioning! I. Should. Know. Better...) Riley answered with utter innocence, no ulterior motive whatsoever: "Maybe because someone stole their nuts?" And from right next to me came a sly snicker, reminiscent of those cultural icons, Beavis and Butthead, as Derek repeated, "Hee hee...nuts!" I didn't even bother to glare at him, just dropped my head in my hands and shook it in defeat. To which he defended himself (showing a complete lack of remorse, by the way), "What? I'm a GUY!" (I can't argue with that. Sigh.)

Finally, in the world of Local Entertainment, I am thrilled to report that after years of outgrowing one mini-drum-set after another, Derek has received his first full-sized kit. Furthermore...it makes a whole lotta noise. He's been practicing with it quite a bit since we brought it home (yesterday) and by the way he walks around with a big rock-star grin on his face, I'd have to assume he's pleased. The brothers have resumed their songwriting collaboration, and have been heard rehearsing their creations with Riley on vocals. They even have a band name: The Banshees (I'd guess that refers to Riley's...wailing...into the microphone, with no irony intended. However, given their proclivity to change their minds, I wouldn't go ordering any tee-shirts or bumper stickers just yet.) So far, no concert dates have been released, but stay tuned for upcoming appearances in your area. Oh, and the band members would also like you to know that if you book them for a gig, they will happily play for food.

So, that's it for this edition of our Spring Break Update. Next up: a Special Easter Segment, with a Video Tutorial on how to safely and enjoyably microwave Peeps; a Survey about chocolate bunnies (Eat the ears or tail first? Hollow or solid? Milk chocolate or white? The results are fascinating, we assure you); and Recipes to help you consume all those dyed hardboiled eggs. Don't miss it!



Derek's first drum
Starter set
"Intermediate Set"
Real drums, real microphone...real ear-splitting!

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Not your Everyday "Games"

In our family of bibliophiles, we're surrounded by reading material all the time. Stacks of borrowed library books on bedside tables, shelves full of old and new favorites that we've purchased--you can pretty much walk into any room in our house and encounter an array of books waiting to be picked up and enjoyed. Now that Derek has reached a young-adult-ish reading level, and has gravitated toward the fantasy realm in terms of his preferred genre, we often find ourselves appreciating the same novels and passing them back and forth. So, for instance, Husband, Derek and I all got totally sucked into the Hunger Games trilogy, trading off whichever volume each one of us needed and discussing them along the way in our own little Family Book Club. We dissected crucial plot points, analyzed our favorite (and not so well-regarded) characters, and explored both the grim (fight-to-the-death competition, raw survival instinct, primitive animalistic behavior overriding the nobler trait of compassion...etc.) and the uplifting (perseverance of the human spirit, empathy for one's fellow man, cooperation and mutual support in the face of overwhelming odds, overcoming differences and accepting one another, fighting for a better future...and so forth. Yeah, our "meetings" tended to be not-so-very-light-and-fluffy. We're pretty hardcore...geeks.)

Anyway, we eagerly anticipated the movie adaptation, excited to commune with Katniss, Peeta, Gale, and the rest of Panem's citizens. Derek and I actually made it to the theater a few day after the film opened, and suffice it to say, we deemed it to be quite the thrill ride. Afterwards we had even more topics of conversation--airing our opinions on such matters as: the actors chosen for key roles (generally favorable, in some cases downright inspired), to the technological tricks used onscreen (super cool), to the costumes (wildly imaginative and entertaining), to the actual camera work (purposefully-jittery, and therefore nausea-inducing). I think it's safe to conclude that this little set of novels has become an instant family classic, earning prime shelf space next to some renowned Hobbits, beloved Narnians, and famous young Wizards.

Little did I suspect, however, just how much of an impression the beleaguered Tributes and the 74th Annual Hunger Games had left on my son. It seems that when he (and Riley) went over to a friend's house to play yesterday, the group of boys initiated their own backyard version of the contest. According to Derek, they first set up the Cornucopia--the central stockpile to which Tributes swarm at the beginning of the Games, in order to snatch essential supplies. In this case, choice items included: an arsenal of Nerf weapons, and a pantry-full of tasty snack foods. Derek and his 6th-grade buddy--let's call him "Jake"--designated themselves as the entrants from District 2 (one of the few privileged areas in Panem, which typically produces skilled warriors). Riley and his classmate--"Joey"--adopted District 11, a crumbling region lacking in food and other basic resources, which gives them little leverage in the Games...and few victors.

Derek reported that in the first dash to the Cornucopia, everyone immediately grabbed their preferred weapon (Riley: Nerf daggers; Derek: Nerf ax). Then they made off with as much foodstuff as they could handle...in the form of nourishing wilderness rations such as Chips Ahoy, brownies, Lay's potato chips, crackers, and garlic-flavored pretzels. Once outfitted, each team established their Base and took turns guarding it while also attempting to lure the enemy closer and engage them in hand-to-hand fighting. But was it a free-for-all battle situation? Oh, no. There were clearly defined Rules governing the behavior of each little soldier. For example, when "killed", you must return to your Base and count to 30, after which you could revive and rejoin the action. (Apparently, if "injured" your timeout depended on the severity of the fake wound, but I never really got that regulation fully explained to me.) If you and your partner were both taken out within the same 30-second period, the other team would be declared Champions.

Oh. My. Goodness. I honestly wavered between being overwhelmingly proud of my creative little bookworm-nerdlings...and utterly horrified at their adept merging of Literary Appreciation...with Mortal Combat tendencies. I suppose I should just count my blessings: both of my Tributes survived, they received a plethora of fresh air and sunshine and exercise, (Hey, sprinting away from your pretending-to-be-bloodthirsty brother counts as a workout for sure!) and they evidently noshed on some quality junk-food offerings to boot. To paraphrase Caesar Flickerman, it seems "The Odds [were] ever in their Favor!" (And sometimes I dearly miss good old Dr. Seuss...)

Sunday, April 1, 2012

A dozen (years) for Derek...

It's April 1st, which means (all kidding aside) Derek's birthday is fast approaching and we need to figure out how we're celebrating this year. In our house, we don't do your typical "parties" per se. I've never been big on the whole idea of inviting a screaming mob of savages--I mean "my children's beloved playmates"--over to get sugared-up and run amok while I attempt to keep them under control and entertained. It's just not my forte, and my kids know and accept this. We also don't go in for the expensive off-site theme parties: bowling or laser tag or rock-climbing for 20 of your best buds. Instead, our family tradition has evolved into honoring the birthday person with a series of more low-key but equally-festive events. First, the Celebrity gets to choose a restaurant where we will go to eat the Birthday Dinner (this applies to all four of us). Next, (for the kiddos) we host a small Family Party with the local grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and godparents--this includes the very important "Cookout and Cake" portion of our program. Finally, the Birthday Boy invites one special friend over for a Special Outing (generally a kid-friendly movie...with snacks, of course) and a Sleepover. So you see, we manage to pack lots of food and fun into our annual activities (while avoiding an overdose of Party Mayhem).

Aware of Derek's impending birthday, I began brainstorming ideas for presents. I expected him to drop hints about updating his drum set, or maybe a Wii game or two...but when we got around to the actual conversation, here's how it went:
D: "Hmm, almost a month 'til my birthday, what will I get?"
Me: "What do you want?"
D: (immediately, no pause whatsoever) "Money! Power! Prestige!" (emphatically...but with a huge, goofy grin)
Me: (speechless, gaping at him incredulously)
D: (calmly) "Oh, and a laptop, that would be nice."
Me: (recovering) "Yeah, NONE of those is likely to happen..."

Unfortunately, gone are those simple childhood days when I could just pick up some Legos, or a new toy truck, or some nice educational cartridges for his Leapster game and be done. Now he'd most likely be happiest with an Amazon giftcard...or just the cold, hard cash in his hand! (Although on second thought, that may be even easier!)

To further complicate matters, each time I tried to nail him down as to what specifically he'd like to do for his Celebration of Derek, he hemmed and hawed in that (exasperating) pre-teen-male noncommittal kind of way. It finally got to the point where I forced him to decide: "I know (and very much appreciate...most of the time) that you're flexible and laid-back, but we need a plan! Now tell me what you want!" When pressed, he agreed that having the usual Family Get-Together would be nice. But he quickly, firmly added, "Only if you make the cake! With buttercream icing! I hate store-bought cakes!" Awww, how cute--I've trained my childrens' tastebuds to reject artificial, chemical-laden faux-icing! (In the interest of complete honesty, however, it should be noted that this is partially due to the fact that I've always been too cheap--I mean "frugal"--to purchase high-quality cakes from an actual bakery...hey, if they like the organic boxed-mix and homemade frosting, that's perfectly okay with me...)

So I believe we're just about set for the commemoration of Derek-turning-12. Chocolate cake and gift certificates it is!