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Posts Tagged ‘Parenting’

Eddie and his friend Eggy are in outdoor clean-up mode in preparation for Brokeback Weekend. The kids were driving me batty inside, so Sophia (Eggy’s wife) and I decided to take Ava, their daughter, and Dominic and Gideon on an adventure: We went with the McKinnons and their two kids to the water park in Statesboro.

Splash in the Boro. Oh my. Where do I begin?

There’s clearly no shortage of food within a 50-mile radius. Or tattoo ink. Or Lycra. The kids had a lovely time in the splash pool while I dodged pale lady flanks. The boys and I did enjoy the “lazy river,” even though I felt like a Cheerio in a crowded cereal bowl.

We went early, but there were still WAY too many people in one place. The good thing is that if I had any body image issues, they’re all gone now. Next time, I’m wearing a bikini too!

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The summer me is so different from the fall, winter and spring me. I wear hats. I don’t wear shoes. I wear T-shirts. I don’t wear makeup. I have plenty of things to do. I don’t have motivation. I didn’t take a shower yesterday until 10 p.m. because I spent most of the day in my bathing suit.

My house is a wreck and I have people coming over tonight. I’m finding it hard to care about cleanliness. Eddie and I have a list of 20 things that have to get done before we have about 40 people at our house next weekend for what we have dubbed “Brokeback Weekend.” It is a reunion of the facilities crew.

There will be tents in my backyard. Tents!

Eddie claims that most of the guys will be sleeping in one large eight-person tent. The ones who stink or snore will be booted to two smaller tents.

He also begged me to buy a small trampoline to insert danger into the act of jumping in the lake. His words: “This will increase the chance of medical attention by at least 50 percent.” Fantastic.

Gideon tests out the Injury Express

While the guys are out threatening each other, wrestling, farting and whatever else a guy herd does, the ladies will be inside wrangling children and enjoying the air conditioning.

And not noticing the layer of dust, I hope. (Cleaning, I do know how to quit you.)

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As you probably noticed, I was on a blog hiatus. Eddie and I took the kids to New York, and it was too hectic to blog. I did Tweet occasionally, but that’s about it.

Here’s the reason we went:

T. Rex and the gang

The American Museum of Natural History was a big hit with the boys, and I got to see some relatives.

Mi gente

We may have spent more time in the gift shop, though, explaining to Dominic why we couldn’t buy him a $78 puppet.

And why Eddie couldn’t have a ridiculous piece of headwear. (Seriously, who buys this stuff?)

We also enjoyed the (free) Staten Island Ferry where the kids got a look at a famous landmark. They both called it the “Statue of Liverty,” which made me laugh every time.

And Times Square, of course.

We also enjoyed gazing at some interesting fashion choices on display, such as this Patternpalooza.

My eyes!

And, the clothing and hairstyle selections of a man we saw on the subway. I give you the front and side views:

But no trip with me can ever be complete without me pointing out sign mistakes.

"Neighborlines" or "neighborliness" -- which is it?

That's a creative spelling of "souvenirs."

If you combine "Belgian" and "Belgium," you have a fancy new word (No. 9).

And finally, above Eddie and Dominic, you’ll see a sign featuring another one of my pet peeves.

Seems to me that the plural of "person" is "people."

I’d give the trip a B+. A few whine outbreaks and near tantrums (not mine, believe it or not) kept the trip from being Grade A.

Now back to the regularly scheduled blogging …

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No means no

My children’s school held an art show Friday night. We all got dressed up and went to see their work, and that of their peers.

They both like creating art. They already have more drawing talent than I do.

Gideon poses with his self-portrait. His teacher calls that his "spirit hair." I guess he thinks of himself as a rock star.

Dominic poses with "Big Giant Fish."

It was hilarious to watch them interact with their friends.

Dominic and Carson look like they are hanging out at a bar, waiting for their dates.

And here, in what I am afraid is a harbinger of problems to come, Autumn tries her best to kiss Gideon.

I think I’m in trouble.

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I know there are some professors who see attending graduation as a chore. I like it, though, because it is exciting to commemorate years of hard work. There are so many success stories — stories of people overcoming great challenges to earn a degree.

Take James Graham, for example. It took this man about 15 years to earn a Bachelor of Fine Arts degree in film and television.

James earns his B.F.A.

He works full time for SCAD and could only take classes here and there. Every so often, he’d have to reapply because it was taking so long. And that would mean he would have to take different classes because he was now bound by a new course catalog.

And I felt such pride to see so many of “my” writing students walk across the stage: Andrea, Rachel, Daniel, Tiffany, Elizabeth, Elyse, Holly, Jacque, Sarah, Maggie, Ashley, Victoria and Travis.  (Note to them: Now we can be Facebook friends!)

After the ceremony, we held a surprise graduation party for James at Patrick’s house, where Uncle Eggy tried to light everyone on fire. See Uncle Alex guard the children.

Pyromaniac

Fortunately, there was a hose handy.

James enjoys the show

Except for minor smoke inhalation, there was no damage.

It was a good day. Congratulations to all graduates!

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Once upon a time

Deanne, who is a student taking two of the four classes I teach this quarter (lucky her), tweeted a link to this video of an adorable French girl with a vivid imagination.

Not to be outdone, of course, here is my equally adorable Dominic “reading” to his brother.

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I may need to stop reading the paper. It’s not good for my blood pressure.

This time it is not because of a Savannah Morning News error, but rather an article that is printed on page 12A. It was a small piece, but it had a large effect on me.

Warning: If you are Catholic, or a pope supporter in general, you might want to stop reading now. I’m about to write some not-so-nice things about the pontiff.

According to the SMN article (The New York Times has a larger, better overview), Pope Benedict XVI told Catholic social workers, health providers and some others assembled for a Mass in Fatima, Portugal, that abortion and same-sex marriage were two of the most “insidious and dangerous” threats facing the world today.

Really? Happy gay people are a threat to the world?

Not child abuse? Really?

Ben, let’s talk. I know you are in a world of hurt trying to pretend that you don’t need to deal with your big, fat scandal, but you cannot throw us off the scent.

I know you don’t have kids, so you might not get it, but children are sponges. They soak up all the good and bad that they see, hear and feel. So if a bishop is letting his little bishop run free all over 10-year-old hide, there is a problem. And that is going to affect that child forever.

If you believe that killing children (even still as a fetus) is wrong, then how could you not see abuse as one of the biggest threats to the world? There are thousands and thousands of children who have been abused by priests and others in the Catholic Church and likely will suffer psychological, emotional and physical effects. According to the American Psychological Association, children who have been abused have an increased risk for:

  • Depression
  • Post-traumatic stress disorder
  • Dissociative and anxiety disorders
  • Eating disorders
  • Poor self-esteem
  • Somatization (the expression of distress in physical symptoms)
  • Chronic pain
  • Behavioral problems including sexualized behavior, school/learning problems, substance abuse, destructive behavior, sexual dysfunction in adulthood, criminality in adulthood
  • Suicide

Barbara E. Bogorad, Psy.D., founder and former director of the Sexual Abuse Recovery Program Unit of South Oaks Hospital in New York wrote:

Abused children are 53% more likely to be arrested as juveniles, and 38% more likely to be arrested for a violent crime. During preschool years, abused children are more likely to get angry, refuse direction from teachers, and lack enthusiasm. By the time they reach grade school, they are more prone to being easily distracted, lacking in self-control, and not well-liked by peers.

But it is same-sex marriage you choose to target as the problem?

Yes, there is a problem. And he is wearing a pointy hat.

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I need a vacation. I’m perpetually wearing a pinched look and I never have time to do what’s on my “to do” list. The hamster on the wheel in my mind wants a potty break.

Two more weeks until the end of the quarter. Dozens of papers and projects to grade. Thesis projects to evaluate. And so much more. Then I can breathe again, and enjoy a day of reading some trashy novel on the beach.

Until that time, I will remember that this too shall pass. Today, I made myself stop and savor the smell of the jasmine growing across the street from Arnold Hall, and thought how sad it was that I had to force myself to take note of the natural world. It took 30 seconds, but I felt better for hours.

I will take a cue from Dominic, who notices everything. “Mama,” he said.”The chickens are starting to have tails.” I hadn’t noticed.

Now I will.

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The day of the mom

I feel about Mother’s Day the way I feel about Valentine’s Day: It is kind of a silly holiday. People should appreciate moms every day of the year, not just one magical day. But I’m not going to turn down a little extra love.

It is kind of cool when you have little kids, because you get the special craft projects. Dominic drew a card that featured two of his favorite things: Jupiter and a Euoplocephalus.

And how could I not love this plaque from Gideon?

Maybe Mother’s Day isn’t so silly after all.

(And her heart grew three sizes that day.)

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The chickens hate me. Or they are completely terrified of me. Or both.

It makes me sad, because Trish loved me. And I’ve done all the same things with them that I did with her, like talking and petting.

There’s nothing worse than ungrateful poultry. It’s foul fowl behavior.

But I guess I should expect it. Shelly and Jeanne are in that ugly teenager phase. All gangly with feathers sticking up all over. They probably have acne. And don’t all teenagers hate their parents at that age?

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