Saturday, November 30, 2013

It's the Little Things...

The kids and I attended a church service this evening in which the primary message was, appropriately, "gratitude". Of course the Thanksgiving weekend, leading right into the upcoming whirlwind holiday season, places this worthy topic in the front-and-center of people's minds. We've all been thinking about our blessings and making a conscious effort to fully appreciate them. But the pastor's point actually centered around cultivating a spirit of thankfulness at all times...completely independent of what you have...or lack...in your life, and regardless of what the world may throw your way in terms of obstacles, heartache, setbacks, or the like. It was powerful stuff, and it got me thinking of how to apply this principle to everyday circumstances...maybe to "reframe" some of the petty annoyances that crop up in the course of the Daily Grind.

Just in the past week, for example, I experienced...oh, let's call it what it was: a Mommy Meltdown...when faced with One. More. Stinkin'. Load. Of. Laundry. I grumped and groused about all the stupid socks and the blasted towels and the...darn...sweatshirts. But wait a minute...how grateful am I that my kids have clothes to wear? (Not rhetorical, actually...the answer is: too much to even express...) Okay, I can see how this may work. Let's try another one...hmm...ooohhh, I know! I looooaaathe grocery shopping. First the menu-planning and list-making...then the slalom course through crowded aisles, dodging other carts and bargain-hunters...and finally the label-reading, price-scanning, and (gulp) paying for a week's supply of rations for a family of four. However, this is an easy one to turn around; the fact that we have enough money to buy food--so that our kids never have to go to bed hungry--and also to donate meals and supplies to local organizations that serve those less fortunate...that's absolutely priceless to me.

I'm on a roll, now, what other irritating stuff can I look at differently? Here's a common complaint: traffic around here SUCKS. Yet when I happen to be navigating it while commuting to my job-- which I enjoy and know I'm lucky to have--it suddenly seems like a whole lot less of a hardship. (Mostly...I'm not saying there won't be any yelling in my car...but I am trying, here...) Next, something I gripe about a LOT: It's cold outside. Thank goodness, then, that I have a roof over my head, a working furnace that produces enough heat to warm me and my family...and hot tea. Alright, we're doing pretty well, so let's try a challenging one: the boys have tracked in enough mud and leaves and...other...gritty junk (again) to make a whole pen full of pigs comfortable and happy. Right...of course it goes without saying that I'm thankful for my sons. Um, and that they have...shoes...and...yeah, I just can't find it in myself to get all giddy and appreciative about dirt, sorry.

So anyway, I realize the sermon was meant to offer comfort and wisdom to people during some of the more catastrophic events that can occur in one's life journey. But I think that everyone (me me ME) can use the advice to nurture a "universal attitude of gratitude". And like all valuable lessons, practice is required to truly master the technique. I don't see any reason not to start small, so that eventually it might blossom into a bonafide, automatic glass-half-full perspective. Wouldn't that be nice? Maybe then I'll even be able to see the beauty in..."household grime"...

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

Hip to be Square?

Mothers have so many precious opportunities to bond with their children in a myriad of ways, on a daily basis and over the years as they grow up. Of course there are the small-yet-special moments that bring you together--things like hugs, mealtime conversations, and shared experiences. Then you have the "biggies": family vacations enjoyed, holiday traditions honored, life milestones marked. And I'd say as my sons have gotten older, I've had a pretty good run in terms of being able to appreciate and talk about..."stuff" that boys these days consider "cool". We've always had baseball, for example, as a topic of avid interest that we can spend time dissecting and discussing. (Some might even say "ad nauseum"...but clearly they just don't understand how to savor the finer points of America's pastime...in all its 3-hours-per-game, Steroid Era glory...or what have you...) We've even listened to (some of) the same music, mainly on the local Urban Pop station. (I can't resist pointing out that in this particular area I come out far-and-away the victor over Husband, who admits to having no earthly idea who Robin Thicke is...and at one point actually asked, "What the heck's a...Ke$ha?" Hee hee...score one for Mom...)

However...there comes a point in every parent's life when your...let's call it Hipness Quotient...inevitably begins to decline...and there's simply not a whole lot you can do about it. (Sigh...) I suppose for me the sad spiral into...Parental Exile from Popular Land...began when Derek became fascinated by Rap music. After a nice, long interlude in the save haven of Maroon 5/Imagine Dragons/Gym Class Heroes, he suddenly started requesting permission to download songs by Nelly...and Jay Z...and some character called...2 Chainz. (Actually, in some cases he was kidding, as he knows better than to even bother asking if there's not a "clean" version...which seriously limits his options...) So during the American Music Awards the other night, we were able to laugh hysterically/cringe in horror at the train wreck that is Miley Cyrus...singing with a creepy, disturbing, altogether WRONG...CGI cat...lip syncing behind her. But when it came time to present Kendrick Lamar performing his hit song Swimming Pools...I suddenly found myself in the category of: "utterly clueless". That's okay, though, because in my opinion we had more fun mocking the hairstyles of those teen dreams known as One Direction. (Seriously, guys, who told you to do that goofy swoopy-thing? Fire them. Immediately. And by the way, you're bazillionaires--invest in a couple of combs...) Oh, and let's not forget the collective joy of groaning every time Taylor Swift got summoned to the stage. (A.LOT.)

But it took a turn for the much, much worse when we were watching a college basketball game the other night--honestly, I don't even remember the opponents, but our favorite guy was: (totally not making this up, are you ready for it?) Shabazz Napier. How. Freakin'. Awesome. is that name? (FYI: I just Googled, and he's Puerto-Rican-American...which would not have been my first...or second guess, so show's you what I know, right? But I digress...) Anyway, he's an impressive player, and at one point he drained an absolutely gorgeous 3-point shot from loooonnng distance, after which they of course put up a graphic with his stats. Here's what ensued:

Me (reading his totals, thinking I'm making insightful, intelligent commentary) "Oh, he has 20 points...and is 4-for-5 from the 3-point arc!"
Derek (mouth agape, in a tone of voice that is equal parts...horrified...and chastising) "Moooommm, no one says that!" Then he shifted to an ironically snooty, professorial voice to add, "The 3-point arc?" Switching back to a regular tone, he firmly concluded, "It's called...DOWNTOWN!"
Me (in my head) "Oh, do forgive me, my darling son, for channeling my inner SportsCenter anchor, rather than being as....street...as you" (Yeah, my 100% Child of Suburbia)!

Ohhh-kaaaay...so it seems that my credibility with the Millenials--at least those in my household--has plummeted of late. Oh well, it had to happen sooner or later. No one escapes the dreaded Generation Gap forever, right? At least Husband and I have done what we consider to be our solemn duty in exposing our kids to Classic Rock and getting them to like it, so that they can't make too much fun of us one day for continuing to sing along to Journey, Led Zeppelin, Boston, and the like. By that time we'll be too hard-of-hearing to mind the bleeped-out rappers our sons might still be listening to...and we'll be sitting reeeeealllly close to the big-screen TV...to be able to discern when a player nails a stunning long-range shot...from DOWNTOWN!

Saturday, November 23, 2013

The Future of SportsCenter?

I've been interested in the wide world of sports for pretty much as long as I can remember. Not in a "paint your face, don a foam hat proclaiming love for your team, start tailgating at 8 a.m. and mourn each loss as if a beloved pet had died" kind of way...but more along the lines of  "read the Sunday section front-to-back, check scores online, patronize Os games, yell at the TV when 'my guys' aren't performing up to par". (Because that totally works, if you put enough authority behind it, yeah?) As such, I consider myself to be reasonably up on the current news and at least some of the major players involved. (Although I freely admit that when teams start moving around and changing names, I tend to get confused--for example, can someone tell me when the Pelicans came into being...and why?) However, I must also state with all honesty that there's a limit to my attention and level of involvement in the day-to-day business of what essentially amounts to "grown men playing games and getting paid for it". It's becoming increasingly apparent that this is NOT true for my teenage son...

Case in point: today he and Husband will be attending their very first University of Maryland collegiate football contest, having been invited by a soccer-family-friend. When I approached Derek to ask if he wanted to accept, he instantly responded, "Yeah, I'm in!" Then after a moment's pause he added wryly, "I'll go watch us get killed..." Now, I don't necessarily follow the Terps all that closely, but I didn't think they were that bad, so I encouragingly replied, "They're playing Boston College, so maybe it'll be okay." (Meanwhile, I'm thinking "Yay, me, for having a relevant, at least semi-accurate comment to offer the conversation!" Oh, silly, silly mom...) He stared at me with an astounded expression before sputtering vehemently, "One of their running backs rushed for 400 yards last week!"

Now it was my turn to gape at him incredulously--while at the same time several emotions were warring for supremacy...am I more perturbed at this ridiculously useless fact taking up valuable space in his adolescent brain (which clearly needs all the available resources it can muster, to handle such everyday tasks as, say, homework...remembering to put away his clean laundry...keeping track of his phone...etc...) Or am I primarily amazed at his ability to store and recall stats on demand? (Even for teams we have no relationship with, whatsoever? Please don't hold your breath for an answer; I suspect the jury's gonna be out on this one for quite a while...) Fortunately, I'm somewhat mollified by the realization that he doesn't just memorize stuff. During the recent baseball season, we were able to have lengthy, detailed discussions about who should be awarded the AL MVP, based on such criteria as batting averages, RBI totals, fielding prowess, and overall contribution to the success of their organization. And just last night he provided a thoughtful, logical analysis to my question of whether Texas A&M's QB, Johnny Manziel, should or should not declare himself eligible for the upcoming NFL draft.

Back to our original exchange, when I had recovered enough to speak again, I asked, "How do you come up with this stuff?" He glanced down his nose at me in an infuriatingly superior fashion and scoffed, "Moooommm, I know things!" Well, that much is abundantly obvious....and leaves no room for rebuttal. So I suppose in the new hierarchy (of Team WestEnders) I shall bow to my... ESPN junkie...for all burning sports-related topics. I trust that if he doesn't already know it, he'll look it up...because after all, he wouldn't want to tarnish his newly-anointed position as the one who "knows things", right?!

Tuesday, November 19, 2013

A Ghost of Childhood Past...

Did you ever have one of those moments when someone you've known for years, who you think you understand pretty darn well...suddenly does something totally surprising and completely mystifies you? Yeah, of course it happens...but it's just a little disconcerting when the unfamiliar behavior in question is exhibited by your child.

This week's Tales of the Unexpected comes courtesy of Riley. Last Saturday, when he was wrestling with his older sibling (no, that's not the unusual part) he got bonked in the face by Derek's hard head (nope, not yet...very commonplace events, so far). I'm not sure whether it was directly related to the occurrence--or just a coincidence that he noticed it for the first time when checking his mouth for injuries afterwards--but he immediately reported to me that he had a loose tooth. Okay, he still has several of his baby set to replace yet, so this was not worrisome. However, he became a bit obsessive about it, trying everything in his power to wiggle the thing free--twisting with his fingers, chomping down extra-hard on apple slices, banging it against his brother. (Just kidding about that last one, he had luckily already learned his lesson regarding the pain Derek's bony body parts can cause...)

But on Sunday night, out of the blue he asked me, "Do you think the Tooth Fairy will come?" I'm sorry, the who, now? Let me first explain that not once, in all the 13 years I've been a mother, has that particular creature EVER visited our house. It's not that I believe there's anything wrong with the mythology...of a sprite who collects...bits of hardened calcium...that fall from youngsters' mouths. I've just never promoted the story, or participated in the secret program of exchanging-coinage-for-castoff-chompers. I mean really, what's up with this legend, anyway? What brilliant soul came up with the idea that parents should pay their kids for used baby teeth that are going to fall out anyway, through absolutely no heroic effort or special actions on their part? And by the way, what does this chick DO with the little nuggets, anyway? Ewww...on second thought, I'm starting to get creeped out...and I'm kind of glad we never supported this sketchy collaboration between a...shady tooth-hoarding lady and...the money-grubbing masses...of tots.

Anyway, my point is, this particular subject had never even popped up before, and I was flabbergasted at having to deal with it after all this time. And Riley seemed completely earnest, too, like he was honestly expecting some...magical nocturnal trade...to happen while he slumbered. Sigh. Then he came home from school on Monday with a tiny container he'd gotten from the Health Room--you guessed it--which held the tooth that had finally shaken itself out at lunchtime. He excitedly planned exactly what he'd do that night, "Should I leave it under my pillow? How will the Tooth Fairy know to come?" Before I even thought about it for a second, I automatically invoked the sacred power of...um..."Allowable Parental Fibbing" and blithely replied, "Oh, she gets memos about this stuff. But maybe you should leave it on your desk, instead, so she doesn't have to root around and disturb you to find it." What the WHAT? Where did that come from? In the next instant, when my brain caught up with my mouth, I had to stifle the hysterical giggles that threatened to bubble up and expose me for a despicable...Fraud Mom. Fortunately Riley swallowed this fishy story with nary a suspicion...and I got away with it. (Mwah hah hah!)

So, after he'd been tucked snugly under his blankets and ushered off to dreamland, it was time to execute the next phase of the...Great Dental Deception. Practically his last words before I kissed him goodnight had been a wistful, "I hope I get a quarter...that's all I want." Aww, how cute...but then again, this sweetly-innocent wish required that I instigate a house-wide search for a 25-cent-piece to bestow upon my child...lest I tragically shatter one of the last remaining parts of his rapidly-retreating childhood...or something. I located the required payment in the stash that Husband collects to use in the vending-machine at work. ("Sorry, dear, it's for a good cause...or blame your youngest son, whichever works better for you...") When a few hours had passed and I was reasonably certain Riley would be fast asleep, I snuck into his room to make the switch. Wouldn't you know--when I opened the door, he sat right up and swiveled his head around, blinking against the light from the hallway as though trying to figure out what was happening. Knowing that he wasn't truly awake and most likely wouldn't remember any of this, I just completed my mission and skedaddled as quickly as possible.

The next morning when I went in once more to roust him for school, these were his very first words, delivered in that soft, sleepy voice of one who's not quite fully conscious yet: "The Tooth Fairy came!" Ay yi yi--I mean, "Oh, that's wonderful, sweetie!" Later in the day, he mused, "I wonder where my tooth is now?" Ha! That's an easy one--it's in my desk drawer, buried underneath a bunch of stuff so you'll never see it! (Yeah, that was obviously the response in my head...) I quickly formulated some suitably noncommittal reply and changed the subject. I suppose, for whatever reason, we're going to continue this little game until the rest of his original teeth come out...or he gets wise to the scam, whichever comes first. Memo to me: start a stockpile of quarters for emergency situations...and next time, go in Tooth Fairy Commando style, with the lights off!

Sunday, November 17, 2013

So long to Soccer (for now....)

We've reached the end of yet another soccer campaign--just one in an extended string of them for my boys--and as usual it's bittersweet. For one thing, this season represents the second-to-last one that Derek will be eligible to play for our local rec-league, as it only includes teams through 8th grade. So although there's the prominent feeling of "whew, say goodbye to those twice-a-week, 2-hour practices (both brothers back-to-back) and Saturday games (one for each)", there's also the beginning stirrings of nostalgia already, as we can see the end...still distant as yet, but just peeking over the horizon. (Also, once we're all rested up and settled back into a less-crazy routine, we have a moment to ponder the fact that it's also a very looooong Winter ahead of us before the next season gets underway...which is a bit of a bummer...)

This Fall, Riley competed in the U12 Division--which covers 5th and 6th grades--for the first time. At each level, some technical aspects of the game change, presenting new challenges to the players. In this case, the field size and the length of the games both increase. This tends to result in somewhat of a "learning curve" as the younger kids adjust; the older ones therefore often dominate the standings throughout the weeks of competition. As parents, we've become familiar with this system, and tolerant of the potential ups and downs from one season to the next. (Or perhaps it's just that after hundreds of soccer matches, we've cultivated a very Zen approach that allows us to...I don't know..."become one with the energy of the open field"...or on second thought, it's probably just the pregame coffee talking...) Anyway, with all this being said, Riley's gang was really pleasantly competitive this year...winning a few, losing a few, and since this is "the beautiful game" we're talking about, even finishing in a tie, once. And as they say, a good time was had by all.

Derek's squad, on the other hand, had moved up to the top of their U14 division, age-wise. Last year, as 7th-graders, they performed the unenviable role of...let's just call it "those getting their...tushies...kicked all over the place" as the bigger, stronger students pretty much rolled all over them (sometimes literally--trust me, it was a lot of things, but it wasn't pretty...) But in this scenario, what goes around does, in fact, come around, and it was their turn to run rampant...which they did, with copious amounts of enthusiasm. Without going into the details, let's just say they scored buckets of goals while giving up very few...and leave it at that. Unfortunately, their stellar season ended in the worst possible way, as they lost a hard-fought, nailbiting (rather, that was the parents on the sidelines) Championship game...in #%*& penalty kicks. (Sigh....haven't we been here before? Yep, and guess what, still SUCKS...)

All of this was well behind us, however, as we headed into the very important...Postseason Parties. In time-honored tradition, Coach had booked a session on a local indoor turf field, for an all-out, no-mercy...okay, okay, "friendly match" between the kids and whatever parents were feeling stupid--I mean "feisty"--enough to take them on. Our fearless leader also very wisely mixed the teams, so 10-year olds, parents, and a few older brothers all mingled on either side of the ball....lessening the chances of anyone getting pummeled too harshly. He did an excellent job balancing the contest, too, as the score ended up 1-1...and there were no injuries. Then...it was time (cue ominous music, foretelling impending doom) for the teenagers to storm the pitch. Last year at this time, Derek was neither taller nor heavier than me, aaannnd this year he's both. Somehow, these boys keep stretching, while I just get...older and slower. How is that fair? So for me, personally, as long as I came out of this without breaking or tearing anything, I'd be happy. (Oh, who am I kidding--I have a competitive streak that's tough to shut down, and I had much loftier aims...you know, "not looking like a doofus" being high on the list. Also "not allowing the superior soccer players to run circles around me, unchecked"...Yeah, stuff like that...)

And I've gotta say, it was loads of fun...pretending like I know what the HECK I'm doing on a soccer field. Whatever--I didn't hurt anything, and (bonus) I don't think I made too much of a fool out of myself, I'm gonna call it a big old "W". Oh, except one little problem: my precious son Derek, exasperated after the other team scored, had the sheer gall to (are you ready for this?)...criticize my defense! ("Mom, what are you doing? That was yours! Go play forward, I'm taking over!") Um, excuse me? Killer instinct, much? (Oh, wait a minute...yeah, partially my fault...never mind.) What I meant to say was, "Instead of taking the time to waltz back here and give me grief, why don't you and that mouth of yours trot on up the field and score a goal to even it out? Oh, and you're grounded, so there!" (Maybe I need to work on my trash-talk, ya think?) Other than that, it was a hoot...a sweaty, sprinting, sucking wind...barrel of laughs. In the end, the scoreboard showed another tie, so we took that to mean "everyone's a winner". And it really doesn't matter one way or the other, since we all get pizza and doughnuts for our effort. Yay, team(s)! Now thank goodness I have plenty of opportunity to rest up until the Spring go-around...

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

More Hijinks, of an Elementary Nature

My younger son continues on his recent spate of...well, I'm not exactly sure what to call it, so let's just christen it "Riley-ness" and leave it at that. Here's the latest: I'm used to the older brother only sharing stories of "what happened at school today" if he considers it something truly exceptional (some examples of what he deems conversationally relevant would be "friends getting yelled at in class", "SportsCenter-quality plays in PE", or "amazingly idiotic behavior that I observed in the cafeteria"). In contrast, Riley tends to burst in the door after school and immediately commence spouting off about every little detail of his apparently 4:00 News-worthy stint in the halls of academia. I get a full reckoning of people's words and actions, the subsequent consequences, if any, and (as a bonus) Riley's commentary on the entire situation, complete with insightful analysis into classmates' reasons for making their choices, and how they could have possibly improved their results.

Sooo, anyway, he arrived home one day and announced matter-of-factly, "I had a great idea for lunch today." I was about to ask a leading question when he (naturally--no need to pull information out of this one) continued, "I'm gonna be rebellious!" Oh dear, this is suddenly beginning to sound less "creative" and more..."potential phone call from the principal"...but he explained, "Usually, lunch tables are set up with two for boys and two for girls." (I assumed he meant that boys and girls arranged themselves separately on purpose....which seems perfectly reasonable to ME!) "Yesterday I sat at the girls' table, (uh-oh, here we go...) and then some girls sat at the boys' table and some boys sat at the girls' table. So today, I'm gonna try to get two boys, then two girls, then two boys, two girls..." Huh. That's my wild child, leading the...Lunchroom Desegregation of the Sexes Movement. I didn't even inquire as to what his ultimate goal was...stimulating livelier topics of discussion? Simply mixing and mingling with interesting students in a social context? Ahem...scoring a spot next to a cute chick? (On second thought, never mind..."ignorance is bliss", and all that...)

Next, I unearthed a permission slip in his backpack, which he wanted me to sign so that he could participate in the school Chorus. I was pleased--after all, I myself L-O-V-E singing, and hoped Riley could feel the same joy that producing music gives you, blah blah blah. Besides, Derek had utterly, flatly refused to have anything whatsoever to do with Chorus, claiming it was "dumb". So, not only would this be a second chance for us to applaud our child in a concert situation, but also the group gets to perform in the Pageant of Peace on the National Mall in December, which just seems like a super-cool opportunity to me. I happily returned his sheet, without asking him any further probing questions about why he'd elected to join. I just assumed he'd inherited a teensy bit of...vocal...enthusiasm? from his mother. (Ha! Silly me!) However, at dinnertime, Husband was chatting with the boys when the subject came up again. When his father wanted to know why Riley had chosen the singing option, he nonchalantly replied, "Well, it was either that, or stay in the classroom for a grammar lesson..." I'm sorry, WHAT was that, my beloved son? Perhaps you momentarily forgot that your mother is a proud, badge-carrying member of the Grammar Police Force...those individuals for whom proper syntax is not just a hobby, but a way of life? (Okay, there may not actually be an insignia on my shirt, or anything...but it's totally understood!) He must have sensed me behind him, gaping in horror, because he quickly turned around and added, "Oh, and, um, I like singing, too!" Mmm-hmm...

So that's the most current update on the rabble-rousing...lyrical...activities of the household's 5th-grader. I can only hope that the 10-year old females he's attempting to infiltrate turn out to be a good influence on him. And that both his grammar and his glee club experiences turn out to be rewarding. Oh, and let's not forget: I pray that there's absolutely, positively NO need for the administration to get in touch with me (fingers crossed...)!

Friday, November 8, 2013

It could be a loooong Winter...

I don't know if it's the time change, or the cooler weather...or just the fact that he's a 10-year old boy...but this week has been loaded with examples of prime Riley gooberheadedness. Well, I suppose in all fairness I probably should blame the first incident at least partially on the return of The Dark Months (as they shall be called...at least by me...) You see, since we now lose all semblance of daylight by 5:30, the boys don't have as many hours to romp outside after school as they'd like. They saunter in when they can no longer see whatever ball they were throwing or kicking around, they shower...and then they gape at the clock in utter disbelief and distress, astounded that it's only 6:00 or so, and they have HOURS ahead of them with NOTHING to do. I swear, it seems like my children have suddenly forgotten how to exist when confined inside of four walls. (And all I can think of is: they would have lasted approximately one day in, say, the Little House on the Prairie era, I tell ya.) As it is, they wander through the house, quietly moping--until they burst into a vocal lament about how bored they are and how long it is until bedtime. Sheesh. I'm about to teach these boys...I don't know, macrame, or something, because they sure do need a hobby all of a sudden, and badly. (To clarify: not that I know macrame...or knitting...or any other crafty type of activity, as a matter of fact. On second thought, perhaps I'm not the best role model for this...and also, we ALL ought to learn a new pastime...)

Anyway, when faced with this scenario a few nights ago, I offered to play a card game with Riley, to while away a few minutes before he needed to turn in for the night. We settled on Uno, which he'd not yet experienced in his young life. Well. Let's just say the, ahem, "competitive gene" is strong in this one. (From which parent? I'm not saying...) There was excessive taunting. ("Ooh, draw two, how do ya like that?") There was obnoxious gloating. ("I'm winning! Whoo hoo!") And there was even an elaborate, unrestrained...victory dance when he managed to ditch of all his cards first. Also, he immediately began keeping track of everyone's Win/Loss record...and he asked to play again the following evening. Sigh. I fear we've created an Uno Monster...

However, that might just be preferable to the alternative we encountered on a different night. Riley had brought home a permission slip to participate in the Chorus at his school. This led to some discussion about singing in general (which by the way both of my sons claim to despise as a rule). But then...some crazy karaoke (um...without the machine...) broke out as Riley--with no provocation whatsoever--began belting out the lyrics to...Miley Cyrus' Wrecking Ball ("I came in like a wrecking ball, I never hit so hard in love, All I wanted was to break your walls, all you ever did was wre-e-eck meeeee"). As if this weren't horrifying enough, with the rest of his family staring at him in stunned incomprehension, he immediately changed gears and began wailing the song Slow Down...by Selena Gomez. ("Breathe me in, breathe me out...") Oh. Dear...my pre-adolescent has morphed into...a teenybopper overnight!

At this point Riley was giggling maniacally and prancing about the bedroom while his older brother and parents exchanged half-hysterical, half-perturbed glances behind his back and wondered what to make of this display. Riley seized control of the confused silence and yelled enthusiastically, "Okay, now I'll take requests!" Figuring we might as well go along with it, we started suggesting artists in rapid succession: AC/DC ("You...shook me all night long!"); Justin Timberlake ("And baby, it's amazing I'm in this maze with you, I just can't crack the code, one day you're screaming you love me loud, the next day you're so cold"); Florida Georgia Line ("Baby you're a song, you make me wanna roll my windows down and cruuuuuise"); Lady Gaga ("I live for the applause, applause, applause, I live for the applause (plause), live for the applause (plause), live for the way that you cheer and scream for me..."); Maroon 5 ("I really wanna love somebody, I really wanna dance the night away"); Taylor Swift ("I knew you were trouble when you walked in"); the Doors ("Riders on the storm, like a dog without a bone"); Scorpions ("Here I am, rock you like a hurricane"); Rihanna ("We found Dove in a soapless place"...oh wait, that was a parody version made up by one of Derek's clever-but-silly friends...never mind...). Holy radio replay, Batman, it was downright SCARY! No matter what we threw out, he knew the correct words...and this is the child who--I thought--never listened to his iPod or even paid attention to the radio. Yet, somehow his brain is just a...musical funhouse, nonetheless.

After 20 minutes or so of this vaudeville act, Husband and I had one of those parental moments when we silently agreed to pull a strategic "Oh, would you just look at the time" ploy and send the children off to prepare for bed. (You know, now that they were all riled up from the stimulating episode of Riley's Big Variety Show...) Clearly, we've got to come up with some nice, wholesome...CALM leisure options for the cold season ahead. Either that, or I start dosing their chocolate milk with a sedative at dinner time and we all have an early lights-out...heeeyyyyyy...

Sunday, November 3, 2013

How're We Doing?

With one marking period of the school year completed, (pause for a moment: YAAAYYY! And...gulp! That was...quick...) Report Cards will be issued soon. So in the spirit of self-evaluation and improvement, I thought I'd deliver a Summary of Family Progress as well. (Because yes, I am JUST that much of a nerd...who's surprised? I suspected as much...) So here's the status thus far:

English: You'd think this one would be, well, a no-brainer, as it happens to be our Mother Tongue (and stuff). However, the Middle Schooler has been receiving unusually low grades (for him) on writing assignments from his 8th grade teacher. Husband and I have dutifully checked each one before its due date and helped Derek to edit them...yet somehow we're not pleasing his instructor. (Even with our extraordinary combined efforts...and just imagine how guilt-inducing this is for his parents, to not be doing well...in Junior High English!) This course will have to be considered an "ongoing concern", as I believe I'll need to make an appointment to chat about how to better meet the expectations of the class.

Social Studies: This quarter we've focused--by necessity--on Economics as a topic of study. There has been an ongoing unit on Consumer Affairs...as Riley continues to spend most of his allowance each month, while Derek plans to stash his away until he has accrued enough for a new iPod. Then we've had opportunities to discuss rudimentary Banking, as in "even if it costs the same as our current house, we not going to buy a mansion with a saltwater pool on a 12-acre lot  in North Carolina." (Yes, this actually came up in conversation while I was perusing Real Estate websites...) And finally, we've been forced to address some Personal Finance Matters...which is what happens when your 13-year old gains 7 inches of height in 12 months, thereby outgrowing his glasses and requiring them to be replaced...even though insurance only pays for a pair every two years and his lenses are super-ridiculously-expensive due to their unusual prescription. (Sigh...)

Science: In the carefully controlled laboratory setting--I mean "kitchen"--we continue to observe and analyze the complex relationship between fuel (in this case that would also be known as "food") and A) energy, in the short term; and B) "expansion" over time. Simply put, Husband and I watch with amazement--and no small amount of consternation--the number of calories the boys consume, the amount of running around they do, and the steady rate at which they seem to be sprouting these days. This allows for a nice cross-discipline application, of course, as it relates to Budgeting at the Grocery Store (see "Social Studies") and Maintaining Fitness (see "Physical Education").

Math: We often find ourselves attacking real-life word problems these days. Example: Two brothers are playing football in the back yard. What is the minimum number of times (t) the bigger one (D) can tackle his younger sibling (R) before R storms off and quits the game? Extra credit: What is the maximum number of occurrences (O) that Mom (M) will allow before handing down punishments (P), and how many will each offender receive? Here's another one: Suppose a student has set a goal to walk to the bus stop every day this school year (instead of being driven, as in the past). The bus typically arrives between 8:55 and 9:00. The walk generally takes just over 3 minutes. At what time (t) should the child (C) and parent (P) leave the house to ensure that they don't miss the bus? What is the optimum pace (p) for their jaunt? Extra credit: Really, what's the absolute last possible minute (m) they can bolt out the door, if P needs, say, to brew a K-cup for the hike, or is putting the finishing touches on her makeup for work, or...can't decide what shoes to wear? And then, how much must they increase their...almost-jog (j)...to make up for lost time?

Physical Education: Lots of "unofficial activity" in this category, but in terms of organized sports, the boys are playing soccer, as usual. This year Riley moved up a league, (placing him in the younger half of the grouping again) which usually results in a season of adjustments--to bigger fields, longer halves, and more experienced kids. Riley's team is holding their own, though, and showing marked improvement over where they started in September. Next week they'll play for the 3rd place slot in their last match of the year. (Go, Riptide!) Then there's Derek's squad...who went through the same situation last year in their league...but this year have therefore become the biggest, oldest kids in their bracket. In 7th grade, they pretty much got their butts kicked (ha! sorry...) each week...aannnnd, this time around, they're doing the pummeling (I mean, not literally, just in a scoreboard-kind-of-way). So it's no spoiler to announce that in their final game, they'll be vying for the championship. (Go...Fresh Wiz! Don't. Ask. Me. They're teenage boys, that's all I can say...)

Study Skills: I'm beyond delighted to report that the 5th-grader--who right up until the end of the previous school year wanted supervision during homework time, and checking of absolutely each item of his agenda--has completely taken over his own academic responsibilities. In fact, he's been soooo quietly efficient that it took me until, oh, about a week ago, to realize he hadn't asked me to look at anything at all yet. (And on the one hand I'm thrilled to be relieved of this duty...but on the other hand it's just one more way he's not so much my baby anymore...sniffle...) And even the 8th grader has figured out that when he needs supplies for a project, he must ask well enough ahead of time to schedule a trip to the appropriate store to obtain them. Also, he has realized that when he has a Spanish test, reviewing with me beforehand nets him a higher grade. And when Mom or Dad proofread your English assignments...oh right, still working on that one, never mind...

All-in-all, I'd have to say we've had a pretty successful start to the academic term. Hopefully we can maintain our momentum as the days get shorter and darker and the potential distractions multiply. (Hello, Thanksgiving break...Holiday parties...Christmas shopping...) I don't want to have to send us all to Detention...better go look over everyone's work one more time, just to be sure!