Out of the Mouths of Babes

A week ago we were at the park with Granny & Grandpa and Turtle decided to bring 73 Hot Wheels (yes, he counted) in a bucket to play with. At one point, I am sitting on a bench nursing Fox and he is behind me racing Hot Wheels in the grass. I can vaguely hear the familiar sound effects and exclamations and constant narration that goes along with major Hot Wheels races, but I'm kind of happily tuning it out and focusing on the birds chirping and the nice breeze. But then the back of my brain realizes that I'm hearing the same phrase repeated over and over out of his mouth and I can't help but tune back in. And what do I hear?

"You're so fucken fast! This car is fucken fast! Fucken fast!"

!!! (sound of me clamping lips shut trying not to laugh out loud) !!!

It was pretty "fucken" hilarious, actually. I was far from horrified and quite amused, especially at the pronunciation, which was very much fuck-EN, as opposed to fuck-ING. It was obvious that Turtle had no idea what he was saying at all and had just picked up the phrase phonetically. I did take a moment to admire his proper use of the adverbial form of the word. And a second moment to decide which one of us parents I should blame this on.

Oh sure, when I told Backtire about it later, he took the easy way out and blamed it on "kids at school", but I'm thinking that the context (racing) and the exact phrase "fucken fast" kind of give it away. I mean, who has all the car magazines at our house? Who checks race scores online all the time? Who introduced Turtle to a racing videogame? Who talks about cars and motorcycles and racing incessantly with his friends? Whose blog moniker, an old nickname, refers to doing wheelies? I rest my case.

Next step- do I pretend I didn't hear it and say nothing? Do I jump up and yell at him for using foul language? Something in between? I couldn't do the yell thing because A. that would make me the biggest "fucken" hypocrite in the world and B. because the bigger of a deal I make of it, the more power I give the word which will only lead to him trying to say it more intentionally in order to push buttons and test limits. And C. I'm just not really a yeller. Not my parenting (or teaching) style.

I seriously contemplated just letting it go. It was the first time I've heard him use the F-word and he wasn't saying it TO anyone, just sort of to himself as he played, and he definitely wasn't using it in a rude way, more of in an enthusiastically descriptive way. And, by the way, thank god the grandparents were out of earshot for this whole thing! (Although they may read the blog. Oh well.)

But then I realized, well, what if he's racing cars at school and says "fucken fast". Then he's gonna get an earful from the preschool teacher and I might have to hear about it, too. So, I called him over and said "Uh, that word you are saying is a bad word."

"What word?"

"That word you've been saying." I didn't even want to say it, because then I'd be too tempted to correct the pronunciation and get into the proper use of the word, its origin, meaning, etc. "You shouldn't say that word. It's rude and mean and it's worse than saying poop." Okay, definitely feeling lame at this point, but not sure how far to go with this. Trying to get across the graveness without giving a whole education on other bad words.

"Is it worse than shit?"

Okay. Clearly the boy already knows something about curse words and their relative ranking.

"Yes, it's worse than shit. It's one of the worst words. And if you say it in front of Granny & Grandpa they are going to think you are really mean and rude and if you say it at school, you are going to-"

-I was about to say you'll have to go to the principal's office, but then realized that it's preschool and there is no principal and I really don't know what the worst consequence is?-

"-you'll have to go to Donna's office." She's the director of the preschool. Not sure if she fulfills the same disciplinary role as a principal? Probably not? He's looking at me confused, like, okay...whatever...why does it matter that I'd have to go to Donna's office? "Well, anyway, you could get in a lot of trouble if you say it at school, so why don't you say something better like 'This car is super duper fast! It's amazingly fast!'? Try that!"

He kind of blows me off and goes back to playing cars. I am left not sure whether I've made an impact or not. And, honestly, I don't care that much. It was half-hearted discipline on my part, mostly just to cover my own ass. I don't really feel like having to talk to Donna when she calls to tell me he's been using foul language. And, of course, I want my son to be respectful and not to use foul language inappropriately and all of that good stuff, but I just can't get all hot and bothered about "bad" words. I've just never gotten it, even when I was a kid. They are just words. And they are great, descriptive, useful words.

And part of being a successful grown up is about learning how to behave in different contexts, not mindlessly following black and white rules. And part of being a successful parent (or teacher) is not laying down rules that can't or won't be consistently followed or enforced. If I had told my high school students no cussing ever or else, then how should I have responded to the girl who was helping me by taking down posters from the bulletin board while her classmates finished a quiz, creating a little pile of thumbtacks next to her as she worked, when she slipped, caught herself with her hands, and thereby drove a thumbtack into her palm prompting her to shout "fuck!" as the pain signal reached her brain? By sending her to the proverbial principal's office? I think not.

By the way, there was a recent scientific study that demonstrated that people who crushed their thumb with a hammer or something equally painful experienced less pain if they were allowed to just curse it out than those who had to say "oh gee golly" or "sugar!" So yelling "fuck!" across a quiet classroom, in this case, was medically beneficial.

When I hear students using foul language inappropriately in the classroom setting, I just remind them that we can all talk however we want with our friends on a Friday night, including me, but that we all have to maintain an air of professionalism in the school setting, which is practice for the future work setting. (At least until you cross the fuck barrier with certain colleagues. After that, I've always found the work setting to be more fun and relaxing.)

So, we'll take each case of cursing as it comes and help Turtle learn when it's okay and when it's not to use certain words. And I'm confident he'll pick it up really...fucken fast.

Free Range Challenge #2

You might remember my dilemma a couple months ago when I finally decided to go to the bathroom alone, leaving my 5-year old in the coffee shop by himself while I did so. Well, this week I was faced with the other side of the coin. We were settling in at the public pool and I had just begun nursing Fox. Turtle's lessons were soon to begin when he realized he needed to pee.

Uh... okay... I'm not going to interrupt nursing an infant to have to carry her all the way across the whole pool area back into the locker room so that we can supervise Turtle peeing. "Can you wait?" I asked him. Nope.*

"Hmmm... Well, all right, how do you feel about going to the bathroom alone?"

"I don't know. You need to come with me."

Clearly, both of us were a little nervous at the prospect. I thought it over some more. He knows his way into the locker room and where the bathroom stalls are and back out to me, no problem. He doesn't need any help with the whole process itself. There is access to the main exit out to the street once he's in the locker room, though. And it's all behind closed doors where I can't see or hear him if he needs help. And there's random other people in there.

But, he could just walk in and go directly to the bathroom quickly and come right back out to me and I could keep my eye on the time. I could remind him not to get distracted doing other things. He's motivated to stay with us and to do his lesson which is about to start. He's not a bolter in general either. So, there's no good reason why he would wander off out of the locker room and into the main office/exit area.

And here we are at a nice safe family friendly public pool. Who is really going to bother him or grab him or anything like that? What's the likelihood? Just about nothing. In fact, anyone seeing him walking into the stall will assume his mom is one of the ladies sitting feet away in the locker room. No one has any reason to believe he is all alone or to "prey" on him.

"OK, look, why don't you walk in there, just go straight to pee, don't do anything else, and come right back as fast as you can. I know how long it takes, so if you are taking too long, I am going to get up and come in there to find you because I'll be worried about you. So, please don't get distracted and stay in there long because then I have to stop feeding Fox and come find you."

Then I proceeded to quiz him on what he would do if someone bothered him. He said he would ignore them. I pushed- but what if they keep bothering you or grab you? (Ugh. I can't believe I even said that, but I felt I had to.) He said he would run away and yell. I reminded him he could also ask a worker for help. All the pool workers/lifeguards/teachers wear recognizable red swimsuits and have clipboards.

He agreed to go on his own and so we commenced his first trip to a public restroom where I wasn't standing right outside the door.

I watched him walk all the way around the pool and up to the locker room doors and then stop, clearly in trepidation. He faltered for a few moments, then turned around and walked all the way back to me. Mission aborted.

"What happened?"

"Mom, I am not allowed to go in the women's by myself without a mom and I don't want to go in the men's. I've never been in the men's before and don't know what it's like."

Agreed. "Sweetie, you need to go in the women's, where we always change our clothes and you know where the bathroom is."

"But they don't let boys in there without a mom. What if they say something to me?"

OK, so I'm worried about his safety and he's worried about breaking the rules and getting in trouble. I convinced him no bathroom police were going to say anything to him at all and he should quickly go in the women's. I can see how this is going to become a whole new issue as he gets older, though, and that doesn't fly anymore. I am going to have to trust him going into the men's room on his own when we are out and about. Sigh.

So he returns to the mission. As soon as I see him disappear through the women's locker room door, I am watching the clock and thinking about how long it takes to walk to the stall, open it, get in, lock it, pull down your bathing suit, do the deed, and reverse all of that. I am thinking ahead already to my options if he takes longer than I think he should. Crap- when should I begin to worry? After 3 minutes? 5? At what point do I get up with the baby and head in there if he hasn't emerged?

As I feel the seconds tick by and am already formulating my emergency plan, he pops right back out the door and starts heading back to me exactly on schedule.

Whew! Another milestone for both of us.

*(This is the part where, okay, I'm totally going to admit it, I did consider briefly whether I should just counsel him to pee in the pool. Seemed like a really easy option and a way out of my dilemma. But I realized he's too old for that. He'll end up telling someone that I told him to do it! OMG then I'll be really embarrassed! So, I went the braver (nobler?) route instead.)

Quarters of Conversation

Two of my most favorite pieces of descriptive writing. Oh, that I could learn to write like this!

"Around the watchers, the city still made its everyday noises. Car horns. Garbage trucks. Ferry whistles. The thrum of the subway. The M22 bus pulled in against the sidewalk, braked, sighed down into a pothole. A flying chocolate wrapper touched against a fire hydrant. Taxi doors slammed. Bits of trash sparred in the darkest reaches of the alleyways. Sneakers found their sweetspots. The leather of briefcases rubbed against trouserlegs. A few umbrella tips clinked against the pavement. Revolving doors pushed quarters of conversation out into the street."

-Let The Great World Spin, Clum McCann

"There were many seas. The sea roared like a tiger. The sea whispered in your ear like a friend telling you secrets. The sea clinked like small change in a pocket. The sea thundered like avalanches. The sea hissed like sandpaper working on wood. The sea sounded like someone vomiting. The sea was dead silent."

-Life of Pi, Yann Martel

I think writing like this comes from being able to observe the city or the sea with such focus that these details become apparent and can be recorded. Or can you sit at a desk and just imagine them? And then choosing just the right words- thrum, sighed, touched, sparred, pushed quarters of conversation...whispered, clinked, hissed. I just noticed that these are all verbs, not adjectives. I always thought to be descriptive you had to choose the right adjectives. Hmmm. Does this come naturally to these writers? Or do they have to work at it?

What Should Your X-Year Old Know?

A friend sent this to me and I think it's great. You know all those "What your 5-year old/kindergartener/2nd grader should know" books? Here's the answer to what your kid should know.

Sick of Nesting

(photo credit: http://myheelsarehigherthanyours.blogspot.com/2011_01_01_archive.html)

I can't stand it anymore. My due date is tomorrow and she still isn't here. If she doesn't come by Tuesday morning, I have to have the dreaded appointment where my doctor & I discuss induction.

My first day of maternity leave was April 4, 12 days ago, not that I'm counting. The first couple of days were relaxing and fun and happily productive. Since then I've gone through multiple roller coaster ups & downs of peacefulness, anxiety, restfulness, restlessness, enjoyment of the spring sunshine and moving at a slow pace, extreme boredom, enjoyment of quality family time, impatience, enjoyment of me time, loneliness...

I've written and finished multiple iterations of to do lists, created projects for myself just to have something to do, dredged up stale tasks that have been avoided for years and taken care of them, and generally driven myself nuts. I'm a person who nests even when I'm not pregnant, anytime there's a spare moment to organize or prepare something, so being pregnant and off of work is a really bad combination for me.

Here's a list of what I've done for the past 12 days and I'm sure it's not even completely exhaustive:

1. Went to Michael’s to buy scrapbooking stuff
2. Created 10 scrapbook layouts
3. Returned an item at Michael’s, browsed around for a long time to replace it
4. Organized all the ripped out of magazine recipes into recipe notebook
5. Tried 4 new recipes
6. Baked banana bread, ate 25%, froze 75%
7. Stocked up the freezer
8. Prepared soil in two raised garden beds, stopping every few minutes to catch breath
9. Planted seeds, installed labels, tomato cages & bean poles in garden beds
10. Watered the garden beds each day
11. Rinsed, sorted, and culled all the backyard sand toys, riding toys, trucks & balls, re-organized into bins
12. Re-arranged backyard furniture, playhouse, slide, & basketball hoop
13. Had a service demo and remove old shed, along with some other yard junk
14. Broke down and recycled accumulated cardboard boxes
15. Cleaned & dried the ice chest
16. Hung up wind chimes now that the too windy season is over
17. Installed elbow on outdoor spigot
18. Threw out broken 25’ coiled hose
19. Unwound & rinsed spider webs off of 100’ hose, stopping often to catch breath
20. Installed hose winder to new elbow with new connector hose & seal
21. Wound 100’ hose into hose winder, stopping every few turns to catch breath
22. Realized 100’ hose leaked where connected to winder and is too heavy, annoying to actually practically use on a daily basis
23. *Replaced 100’ hose with new 50’ hose on hose winder
24. Realized really never liked hose winder at all
25. *Purchased basket to wind hose into instead
26. Washed all the remaining unwashed baby clothes
27. *Installed curtain rod and curtain in nursery
28. Sat in nursery in contemplation
29. Washed & changed all the bed linens
30. Stocked up on post-partum supplies
31. Moved alarm clock to Backtire’s side of the bed since I’m not waking up for work anymore
32. Moved alarm clock back to my side to time contractions one night
33. Got excited & nervous after 2 hours of 10 min apart contractions
34. Called doula & brother-in-law to put them on alert
35. Kept timing contractions that went on every 10 min for 8 hours, but then just stopped
36. Texted doula that nothing ended up happening
37. Got really bummed out
38. Organized Turtle’s bookshelves, stopping just short of using the Dewey Decimal system
39. Went through Turtle’s dresser and closet, pulling out outgrown clothes, putting out the next size up
40. Did near daily small loads of laundry to just “stay on top of it”
41. Went through 4 filing cabinet drawers, thinning, re-organizing, re-labeling, and shredding
42. Created a rock & mineral kit with accompanying explanatory book for Turtle’s preschool classroom, delivered it & used it with the kids
43. Checked and kept up with work email daily
44. Filled out work paperwork
45. Renewed my teaching credential
46. Checked and kept up with personal email daily
47. Wiped the hard drive of, found the accessories to, posted on craigslist, & met with buyer to sell old laptop
48. Went through computer accessory box, culled, set aside e-waste
49. Went on near daily walks to Starbucks to drink, eat, read, and kill time
50. Took Turtle to the park for 5 hours
51. Took Turtle out to breakfast twice
52. Met friend from work for lunch date
53. Went on a lunch date with my mom
54. Toured the house for sale on my street
55. Dyed my hair
56. Drove to distant mall to exchange one of Turtle’s birthday gifts
57. Used gift certificate to order two pairs of shoes online
58. Received shoes, tried them on, called for return authorization for one pair
59. Packaged up one pair of shoes, went to UPS store to ship back to shoe store
60. Shipped birthday present to my brother
61. Set up, synced, and started learning how to use my new iPad2
62. Organized a bunch of files on work computer
63. Organized a bunch of files on home computer
64. Wrote & mailed a big pile of thank you notes
65. Supervised & battled with Turtle over writing & mailing one thank you note per day for his birthday gifts
66. Went through both bookshelves, re-organized books, pulled out ones to return or lend to people or give away
67. Found over 5 year old disposable camera and dropped off to be developed
68. Superglued broken toy
69. Read Pink Brain, Blue Brain
70. Read Eat, Pray, Love
71. Read Pope Joan
72. Read Free Range Kids
73. Read every current magazine in the house
74. Organized old National Geographics into piles for each of the last 4 years, started going back and reading the ones I never read
75. Read a bunch of blogs
76. Read chapters and chapters and chapters of The Borrowers, Ralph & The Motorcycle, The Trumpet of the Swan, etc. to Turtle
77. Watched about 20 TED talks
78. Watched Away We Go
79. Watched The Social Network
80. Took in a matinee of The King’s Speech
81. Called my mom
82. Called my sister
83. Called my friends
84. Texted my friends

(*To be fair, Backtire actually did these 3 tasks. But I led the charge.)

What's left? Perhaps I'll have to go gather some twigs, grass, and mud and start building an actual nest.

If you see something like this in my front yard, you'll know I've gone overdue...

(If you want to see more, check out the artist, Patrick Dougherty.)