Contract Law

Next week my daughter, Sprout, and I are going to a orientation meeting for Middle School.

I need a moment to get my head around that.  OK, I am better now.

Like I said, Middle School.  As in, no longer Elementary School.  As in, one of the more traumatic experiences of many pre-teen lives.  My baby is going into the belly of the beast.

Earlier this week we were talking about this big transition, and Mike said something about "soon she'll be leaving home".  At which point, Sprout looked at us with panic in her eyes and said, "But we still have the contract, right?"

Ah, yes.  The contract.

Walk with me down memory lane to about 5 1/2 years ago.   Little Sprout was just turning 5 and in Kindergarten.  And, being the oh-so-funny Mommy that I am, I looked into her big green eyes and said, "Pretty soon you'll have to get a job and your own apartment."  Ha ha ha!  I am FUNNY!

The next day, the Kindergarten teacher reported that Sprout had spent much of their naptime crying.  Something about how she didn't want to have to get a job and move out?

Doh!

Of course I reassured her that I had been TOTALLY KIDDING about the whole job/apartment thing.  Totally!  And that she could always, ALWAYS live with us. 

But a mere verbal contract was not sufficient to re-assure her.  So we drew up an official document showing that she could always live with us.  Signed and everything. 

Not notarized.  We might need that loophole later with this whole contract thing comes back to haunt us.

This official document has now been filed away for all of those years.  But when faced with the impending (like, 8 years from now!) end of life-at-home, Sprout went and dug it out and put it on the counter.  Just so we won't forget that we promised.

We won't forget.  I am in no hurry to get rid of her permanently.

I am assuming that by the time she is able to leave, she'll want to.  She probably will choose a college far far away.  (Sob.)  She'll probably seek her fortune in a big city somewhere. (Sob.)

But I am happy for her to have this piece of mind that if ever the road points her back toward home, there will be room at the inn for her.  Always.

Pumpkins

We still don't have our pumpkins to carve for Halloween. We didn't go to the farm and ride out to the patch. Wanted to. Didn't. Too much other partying and visiting (and staying out of the rain) to do.

We did do a hayride in late September and the kids decorated pumpkins with stick-in face parts that my friend had...but those pumpkins rotted before October even darkened our doorstep.

Rotten pumpkins are gross, so I always want to wait until the last minute so that lighting the Jack-o-Lanterns isn't a matter of sticking my hands into some mold-encrusted cavern of yuck.

Last year I convinced the kids to forgo the carving for something new. Well, Sprout went along with that plan - Tater was a harder sell.

This week we are chock full of extra-curricular activities leaving this afternoon as the one possible opportunity to go out and have the kids pick the pumpkins. And in the name of magical childhood experiences, I guess they should pick them. On a farm. With ice cream and cider.

Or do you think they might just go for this?

Kid Friendly Technology

When Sprout was a wee thing in first grade, she was picked up by the bus for aftercare program two days each week while I was far away working in a real live office. Except for the one day they forgot her.

Well, they didn't forget - some other kid said she wasn't coming on the bus (wrong!) and the bus left without her.

So not cool.

And I had no way to contact her to tell her it was going to be OK and someone was coming to get her. And she had no way to contact me to say "Where the heck is the bus?"

So I decided it would be a good idea for her to have an "emergencies only" cell phone. So that if she was stranded somewhere, she could call for help.

At that time, we got her the Migo - a cute little kid-friendly phone that allowed only 4 numbers (plus 911) to be programmed in, so she could call for help, but couldn't chat up her little friends or prank call them, or whatever it is 6-year-olds might do on the phone.

Then she got older and wanted a "real" cell phone. Although she still doesn't actually call anyone, and I don't really like the idea of her chatting away during the day.

And then I found Kajeet - a cell phone service just for kids - with LOTS of controls for parents. Even a control-freak like myself can find very little to argue with at Kajeet.

We are signed up for a $5 per month basic service and can control the hours that the phone can be used, who she can call, who can call her, etc. There are two payment accounts, so we can foot the bill for calls home, and she can be on the hook for calls to friends. AND if we wanted to, we could activate a GPS chip in the phone and actually know where she (or at least the phone) is during the day.

So cool.

We even got Tater one, because he shouldn't be stranded anywhere either.

Then the next communication frontier - my old friend and master e-mail - reared its head. Sprout wants to e-mail.

Immediately I think of all of the generous offers for Viagra and other interesting and not-kid-appropriate things that I get on a daily basis and think...hmmmm...no.

But then I searched Google for "e-mail for kids" and found Zoobuh. This is the e-mail version of Kajeet. Yay!

I signed both Sprout and Tater up for their own accounts. We have a free 30-day trial and then it is $1 per month for ad-free, kid-safe e-mail.

You set up the contact list for the kids and then control whether they can receive e-mail from people outside of the contact list, or send to them. I have it set to send me a copy of each e-mail that they send or receive (just to make sure nothing inappropriate is going on). As they get older, I could turn that feature off if I want to.

The kid pages are ad-free, the parent pages have some minimal advertising. So far, it seems like just the right thing.

So now the kids are connected...to only the people they should be connected to. They are happily e-mailing their grandparents about camp and newly missing teeth.

And they still don't know anything about Viagra. Whew.

Super Seven!!

Seven. Seriously? Seven?
That can't be right.

He was just a little velvet-headed baby in a basket.
He was just in one of those baby-slings looking at me like I was insane to do that to him.
He was just freaked out by the rocking horse that talked to him.
He was just unwilling to touch the sand on the beach.
He was just telling me that I should cook the green beans in the toaster.
He was just bringing me paper flowers.
He was just convincing his sister that it wasn't so scary to ride the bus.
He was just six...and I was just getting used to the idea...

Work is fun?

I have been working on a PowerPoint presentation for a project I am doing. When the kids came home from school yesterday I was just wrapping up for the day and Sprout looked over my shoulder at one slide I was doing and commented that it didn't seem like I had done very much work.

As if that one slide contained all of the writing I had done.

So I had to show her the whole presentation of over 40 slides just so she wouldn't think I was a slacker.

Although I sort of am. But she doesn't need to know that about me just yet. I am all about maintaining the illusion of competence.

Apparently she was impressed because a few minutes later we were getting ready to go outside and play, and all of a sudden Sprout was gone. I started calling to her and found her in the office starting up the computer.

When I asked what she was doing she said, "I want to make a PowerPoint."

To which I replied, "I thought you wanted to go outside and play."

And so she started to throw a fit because I wanted her to go play outside instead of developing a presentation on the computer.

I mean, what kid does that???

The Last Straw

We just concluded a 24-hour period which included a basketball practice/party, set-up for a school event, a playdate, a dinner out (including ice cream to celebrate the end of basketball), a trip to Dunkin' Donuts, a basketball game, the school event (including lunch, games, new jackets, lots of candy), and a softball practice.

On the way home from the final event, Sprout said the following:

"While we were practicing, I slid on the field and got goose poop on my pants and shoes - so you are going to have to scrape off my shoes and get it off so I don't have to wear poopy shoes."

Um, no - I am not. Last straw. No more. I draw the line somewhere before scraping the goose poop off of their shoes...

Although eventually I probably will wind up being the one who does it. Because as much as I want nothing to do with scraping poopy shoes. I also don't want to be the one who puts the poopy shoes back on the kid.

This seems like some kind of maternal catch-22. To scrape or not to scrape?

But I'm Not Even Irish...

I am not a prankster. Not a big fan of the practical joke.

Oh, I am funny. One of my friends tells me all the time that I should be a stand-up comedian (comedienne?) but I think she just might like the idea of seeing people laughing at me. Possibly throwing things.

I do have a sense of humor. I enjoy a touch of sarcasm here and there...

But, I am not much for the April Fools' joke - the freezing of underwear, the Saran-wrapping of toilets, the swapping of sugar and salt - not my thing.

And I forget every year about the whole Leprechaun myth that has somehow been introduced to my children.

This must be a new thing. I don't remember this from my childhood. April Fools? Yes. Green beer? Sure. (Not as a CHILD...work with me here...) Pink hearts, yellow moons, orange stars, green clovers? Check. Shamrock Shakes? Haven't had the pleasure, but surely I am aware of their existence.

But, mysterious mischievous little critters running around secretly messing things up? Um...nope, doesn't ring a bell.

In pre-school, my kids were introduced to the Leprechaun and his shenanigans. Green footprints all around the classroom. Frequent spottings of glitter left behind here and there. Hidden toys. All kinds of fun stuff.

I was under the impression that the Leprechauns only pulled their pranks in school. And really possibly only at the Kindercare. Never heard of it anywhere else.

And then Tater came home from school on Tuesday and asked if anything "weird" had happened while he was at school. And when I said no, he seemed unconvinced. Was I SURE that there wasn't anything wrecked? Or missing? Or, perhaps, GREEN???

Nope. None of that.

As we walked home from the bus stop he told me that, while his class was at recess, the Leprechaun had come into the classroom and left glitter and stickers on the desks. So apparently, the "wee folk" have made their way into the elementary school! Who knew?

And he was sure that if we looked around the house enough there was sure to be some sign of elfin (fairyish?) foul play.

I quickly debated slipping some green food coloring into the milk. But, not completely on board with the idea of drinking green milk for the rest of the week, I decided against it.

I told him that the "little green men" probably hung around the schools since that's where all of the kids are during the day. And of course they know it is more fun to play tricks when there are kids around to enjoy it.

I think he was disappointed that there were no signs of prankitude around the house. I guess I could consider altering my "no pranks" policy if there is continuing interest next year. Although keeping all of the magical characters hanging out around here straight is getting a little exhausting.

But maybe if I had a big pot of gold for inspiration, I would change my tune!
Maybe just a little one?

Blue Food

I remember at some point making a comment that blue food is just wrong. There are no foods in nature that are really and truly blue.

Then a few weeks ago, Sprout and I were reading The Lighting Thief (an excellent book for kids who liked Harry Potter) and the mother in the story likes to make blue food as a rebellious move. And Sprout loved that idea.

So on the way home from karate today, we were talking about what we were going to have for dinner. And Tater, as always, wanted Macaroni and Cheese (more specifically Easy Mac...and yes, I know it is just barely even real food...but kids can not live on only whole grain healthy things, or at least mine apparently can't). And he thought maybe it should be blue.

So for dinner tonight we had blue mac & cheese. Actually it was sort of neon green since the blue food coloring blended with the neon orange "cheese". The kids found this terribly amusing. It seemed kind of wrong to me, but I am a grown-up and frequently feel guilty about eating "fun" foods anyway.

Mike asked if it counted as our vegetable since it looked vaguely like green beans. No, it did not. We had carrots and cucumbers, too.

The point here is, that it is fairly easy to make dinner more entertaining to your kids. Add a little unexpected color. Even if it seems sort of counterproductive, I am fairly sure a little blue food never hurt anyone.

Brrrrr...

It is cold outside.

Like, I am driving the kids to school because I don't want to stand at the bus stop and freeze (and it also gives me an excuse to go to Dunkin' Donuts for my iced coffee...but that isn't the main reason...really).

Like, I wish I was allowed to put a jacket on the dog.

Like, I am thinking it wasn't such a fantastic idea to cut my hair so my neck is hanging out.

And yet, I am not putting gloves and scarves and things on my children. Bad Mommy, right?

But when I try to put gloves in Tater's pockets (just in case, I say) he refuses them on the basis that if he HAS them, his teacher will make him WEAR them. Bad teacher? Isn't that what they are for??

BUT...he can't jump rope with gloves on. And the boy is a jump roping maniac. He and his friend have been jump roping during every recess since they discovered their mutual interest way back in September - which is like 10 years in kid time. They take their own ropes and everything.

So, I am letting him go to school when it is 30 degrees out, gloveless. And since he isn't being forced to take them, Sprout doesn't want any either. Although she will wear her funky hat.

So far everyone still has their fingers. And there are always pockets, right?

Of course, I don't wear gloves either. Can't text with them on...

So, am I being supportive of their interests? Or irresponsible? Or is it conflict-avoidance?
Not sure.

I just know I will be very happy when things warm up and I can find something else to stress about!