Is that Dr. King?

It comes as no surprise, with the observance of Martin Luther King, Jr. day fast approaching, that my children are learning about him and his legacy.  Last week Stinker - my kindergardener - had a school project about dreams.  As a family we were to talk about our dreams for our family, for our community and for the world.  Stinker's project coincided with one of Sweetie's cub scouts projects, in which he was to make a poster about what it means to be a good citizen.  I feel like I know my kids pretty well, but these kinds of projects always reveal delightful little facts about my kids.

Stinker's dream for our family is that his Gigi - my mother - wouldn't be old anymore.  I know he's close to her, that he loves her, and that he knows she's old, but it never occurred to me that he might have some understanding about what it means to be old.  I'm not sure if he does or not because I didn't press him for details, but the comment resonated with me.  Stinker's dream for our community is that everyone has a warm place to sleep.  This is pretty deep stuff for a 5 year old and I was so proud to discover such compassion.  (He IS a stinker, after all.)  And then he blew my mind: His dream for the world is No War.  I don't talk about war very often, and as far as I know The Ex does not either, but it's apparent that whatever discussions have occurred around him have sunk in a little bit.  I must confess that I have told them - Sweetie especially - that ever since they have been on this earth we have been at war with countries far away.

Sweetie has similar compassionate sensibilities.  His dream for our family is that his mother will live a long and happy life.  (Are you saying "AAAAwwww" yet?).  Seriously.  Isn't that the sweetest thing you've ever heard?  (Now you see why I have dubbed him Sweetie in this blog!)  His dream for our community is that everyone has enough to eat.  (I've started a non-profit that will provide weekend food bags for food insecure kids at his school so we talk about hunger quite a bit in our home.)  His dream for the world is peace.  I'm verklempt.

For his cub scout poster, we talked a lot about what it means to be a good citizen and his compassion came out again.  He said things like "be nice to the planet" "follow the Golden Rule" "Honor my country".  The poster ended up including an earth in the center, and then it was surrounded by symbols of things he thinks are important: recycling, a police badge (obey all laws), an American flag, seeds (to grow his own food), trees (to save the ones we have and plant more of them), and a "True American Hero" badge because "that's what I want to be when I'm a grown up."  I was very proud of the ideals he chose, in part because they align (at least a little) with the ideals that I and their father believe in, but also because these are very mature thoughts for an 8 year old boy obsessed with Legos and video games to have.     

So this morning, Stinker and I were snuggling in bed before it was time for me to get up and I had the news on the television (as I do every morning).  The station was showing clips from President Obama's speech yesterday at the memorial service in Tucson.  When he talked about wanting to live up to Christina Green's expectations and to live in the world she imagined, he emphasized with his arm and the crowd applauded.  Stinker looked at me and said, "Mom, is that Dr. King?"  Wow.  What a great reminder that little kids are sponges!

It's a "No Pants" Day

I was catching up on my reading of my bloggy friend Boys Mom's page, and I realized I'm not paying close enough attention to the silly things my kids do.  Boy Mom is so good about sharing the little things her 8 boys (that's right, I said it - 8 boys, God help her!) do, good, bad and hysterical.  If you're interested in a day in the life, you should follow her.

So after I read some of her posts, I sat pondering.  What have my boys done lately?  They make me laugh almost daily, so surely I must have some great examples.  Let's see.  Well, they were playing with my couch cushions again over the weekend - a BIG no no - and they tore one of the cushions.  Oh wait, that's not silly; that's a reason NOT to have children.  I know what I'll share today ...

Stinker has decided - out of nowhere as far as I can tell - they should have "no pants" days.  We have pajama days, so maybe that's where he got the idea.  Anyway, it's not unusual for me to walk out into the living room where they are watching TV and see them without pants.  I usually tell them to put their pants back on, though I'm happy to let them put on pajama bottoms or some other lounging-friendly pants.  It's winter, it's cold, put some pants on for God's sake! 

Last week Stinker comes into my office area without pants.  I asked him where his pants were, and he responded - in all seriousness - "Mom, it's a no pants day."  When pressed for details about why it's a no pants day and what that means, he said, "Mom, boys don't like to wear pants.  You make us wear pants, but we don't want to wear pants.  We're just on the couch, so we're not wearing pants.  It's a No Pants day."  And then he scooted out of the room.  I followed him out to the living room and Sweetie wasn't wearing pants, either.

I fear for their future wives.

How Come You're So Lame?

Have you seen those commercials?  You know, the ones with the blonde-haired little boy, about 7 years old, who is talking about some cool new car.  There is a series of them, but each one ends the same: he is sitting in the backseat with his seat belt on, he looks at the camera and says "Just because you're a parent doesn't mean you have to be lame."  I lauged.  I laughed until it became clear that Stinker has seen those commercials, too, and he uses the word against me.

I've mentioned this before; these kids are sponges and they absorb everything.  I often hear myself being parroted back to me - in tone and content - and I unfortunately hear their father as well.  (There are a few choice phrases they have picked up from him that are almost enough to make me slap their faces ... but I digress.)  Every now and then Sweetie will use a word or phrase I am certain he has heard at school, but Stinker is still young enough that he gets everything from either his parents or the television.  He's been claiming things are "lame" for about two weeks now. 

I play an online game that keeps track of each player's respective position on the leader board.  I play with the same group of people, and I am often in first place, but not for long.  One player in particular unseats me from my first-place throne regularly.  Stinker likes to watch me play and tell me when I should ask for a "hint" and when to use the bonus moves available.  He was watching me the other day and he noticed my avatar was in second place, not first.  Him: "Mom, are you in second place?"  Me: "Yes.  [So-and-so's Mom] is ahead of me again."  Him:  "How come you're so lame?"

Guess what?  I didn't have an answer for him.  I truly and honestly do not know why I am so lame.  Worse, I don't know exactly what to do about it. 

Kids.  You gotta love when they speak their truth without any inhibitions, reservations or filters.

Bird Parties

As I'm sure you know, certain types of birds tend to cluster together, particularly when the weather is getting chilly but not cold. Where we live - where we don't really get that cold compared to most parts of the country - the birds tend to cluster in the mornings, in the winter. When Sweetie was just a little guy, we would actively look for clusters of birds on telephone wires, electrical poles, rooftops, etc. while we were driving to daycare/preschool in the morning. He got such a kick out of seeing a bunch of birds all huddled together. One day, after we had been to a birthday party over the weekend, he saw a cluster of birds and said, "Look, Mommy, those birds are having a party." Even now - at the ripe old age of seven - anytime we see a cluster of birds he points out the "bird party."

Stinker picked up on this dialogue when he was very young. At 2, when he was just learning to put multiple words together, he would point to a cluster of birds and shriek "Bird party, bird party, mommy, yook, bird party."

Stinker just turned 5. Recently, after I had picked both children up from their respective daycares and we were driving to a fast food restaurant for dinner before heading over to their father's house, Stinker noticed a "V" shape of birds, flying and circling around a gas station. He leaned out the window of the car and shouted, "hey you, birds, you need to land. Let's get this party started."

I was a little shocked, having no idea where he heard that phrase, but just assuming it was something he heard from kids at preschool. And then Sweetie starts singing "I'm coming out, so we'd better get this party started" by Pink. THAT one is definitely from me.

Anyone who doesn't believe that children are sponges has not spent any time around my kids. I swear, these two boys remember EVERYTHING they have ever heard or seen.

No More Eye Jousting!

Sweetie is a scaredy-cat. Despite the fact that he is approaching his 8th birthday, this kid is afraid of everything. He's getting better, but seriously, everything freaks him out. Knowing this about him, I was hesitant to take him to Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland, but he begged. He "promised" he wouldn't get scared as long as we didn't go to the 3-D version. Ha. Famous last words.

If you're familiar with Tim Burton's work, you know that he is "dark" and, some would say, a bit twisted in his vision. Though I am generally a sunny person and prefer the bright and happy things in life, I like Tim Burton's work for the genius of it. He definitely has his own vision and he puts it in everything he does. I love that about his films. His vision shows again in Alice in Wonderland. He takes the famous story and adjusts it. It begins with Alice as a young girl having a recurring nightmare, where she goes to this strange place called Wonderland that has all of these strange characters. She explains to her father that she thinks she's going crazy because she sees a purple disappearing cat, a blue caterpillar, a mad hatter, and various other odd creatures. Her father - a visionary who has been called nuts more than once in his life - assures her it is only a dream, and if she gets scared, she need merely pinch herself and she will wake up.

Fast forward 13 years; Alice's father has died and her mother is attempting to marry her off to a nobleman. After the young man proposes, Alice needs a moment, and she runs away to think. She follows this little white rabbit she keeps seeing running in the bushes of the garden. She is peeking down a hole and she falls ... all the way down to Underland. Things have changed over the years, but the same characters are there and they've been waiting for her. According to an ancient scroll, she will slay the Red Queen's champion on a particular day (which is coming soon). They've been looking for the "right" Alice so she can come and do the deed.

The movie is full of trials and tribulations for Alice as she tries to figure out what to do. Not surprisingly, there are chases and battles. In one of the chases early in the movie, the famous doormouse pokes a needle in the eye of a beast, pulls it out, and saves it as a trophy. Though blood did not squirt all over the place, the gouging was pretty obvious. Sweetie flipped out!! "Mom, did you see that? That mouse jousted out his eye. Oooooh, let's go, I don't want to see anymore eye jousting." That was it for him. I refused to leave - he insisted on seeing the movie and we just got there - so he wrapped his arms around my upper arm and buried his head. "Tell me when the eye jousting is over." Despite my many promises that the eye "gouging" was finished, he hid his face for quite awhile.

As the movie progressed, some "creepy" things happen. In one scene, Alice must hop on the severed heads - left over the from the Red Queen's "off with his head" declarations - in order to cross a river. Sweetie flipped again. It took awhile until he finally settled again, though he leaned over and said, "Mom, I really want to go. I know there's going to be more eye jousting." Steadfast in my purported lesson of "finish what you start" I did not budge.

As the movie was building to the denoument, the final battle erupted; the red knight (a brilliant surprise by Crispin Glover) and all of the red cards were fighting with the odd characters of Alice's tea party. And wouldn't you know it, someone gouged out another eye! Sweetie sat up, looked at me with wide eyes and said "you said there wouldn't be anymore eye jousting, but they just did it again. I'll wait for you in the hall!" and I'll be darned if that kid did not get up from his seat and beat feet out of the theater! We were so close to the end I tried to coax him to hold on just a few more minutes but he remained committed. He said, "really, Mom, I'll just sit right outside the door. No more eye jousting!"

So I stood at the top of the aisle, with him outside the door, and I watched the last five minutes of the film. When I walked out to meet him, I chuckled and said he was just being silly, that it wasn't that bad and the rest of the movie was fine and he stood right in front of me, looked me straight in the eyes (pun intended) and said, "Mom, I have a new rule for movies. No shooting, no blood, no hurting animals, and now no more eye jousting!"

Well. So there it is.

I'm not ready to meet Kevin yet!

I grew up in a non-religious home; my parents were forced to go to church as children and hated it, so they never made my sister and me go. I remember going to various churches with friends growing up, but we did not have a family church and I do not recall ever attending church with either of my parents. I am not a religious person, though I have been on a personal spiritual journey for the past few years. The Ex claims to be an atheist, so I'm sure it's no surprise that our children do not attend church and have not had any formal religious training.

Sweetie is a thinker, and he has lots of questions about everything. I've mentioned his spirituality before; he's very new age-y, especially for a child at the ripe old age of 7. When he asks questions about death, God, love, etc. I try to answer them honestly. I tell him that nobody knows the answers for sure, and lots of people believe different things. He knows I believe in God and his dad does not.

Stinker has never asked any questions about God. So imagine my surprise when the following conversation took place:

Stinker: [after explaining the safety rules at school] So I make sure I don't run on the sidewalk, or let go of one hand on the monkey bars, or any of that other stuff so I don't fall and crack my head open.
Me: That's good, honey. I'm glad you keep yourself safe when you're playing at school. You definitely don't want to fall and hurt yourself.
Stinker: Yeah, because I'm not ready to meet Kevin yet.
Me: Kevin? Whose Kevin?
Stinker: You know, Kevin. The man in the sky who meets you after you die.
Me: There's a man in the sky named Kevin?
Stinker: Yeah. He lives in the clouds and sits in a big chair. He has a place up there.
Me: Are you talking about God? In Heaven?
Stinker: No, his name is Kevin.
Me: Sweetheart, I've never heard of anybody in the sky named Kevin. But I believe there is a man named God who some people think lives in the clouds. And he lives in a place called Heaven.
Stinker: Nope, not that guy. I'm talking about Kevin.

Oh. My. Gosh. I could not stop laughing. It took me awhile, but I think I figured out what happened. One of his little friends in pre-school lost his father last Thanksgiving, and he was telling people that his daddy died and was now in Heaven. I think Stinker mis-heard, and thinks he heard "Kevin." His 4-year-old little brain translated that information into a guy named Kevin who lives in the sky, and that's who you meet when you die.

There's no arguing with a 4-year-old once he has figured something out. At least I should be glad he isn't ready to meet Kevin yet.

Are we going to cook Gigi?

Sweetie is a really spiritual and thoughtful kid. He believes in karma, reincarnation (though he doesn't know that's what it's called), and magic. He believes in God. He believes in the Golden Rule. He loves animals. Over the years I've learned that when someone tells him something or something happens, he ruminates for a couple of days, sometimes weeks. If he has questions, they will pop up randomly some time after the fact, usually while we are riding in the car.

A couple of years ago, Mama G and I had our estate plans done. I needed to get mine done because I am a single mother with young children and needed to make sure they are cared for should their father predecease me, and I wanted to designate someone to handle their inheritance until they reach a certain age. Mama G was most interested in granting a financial power of attorney to someone (not me) and a healthcare directive to control what would happen to her should she become sick or injured and incompetent to make her own medical decisions. As part of this discussion, she told me very clearly that she wants to be cremated.

Sweetie must have heard us. About two weeks later, while we were driving in the car, Sweetie said, "Mommy, what's cremated mean?" He was about 4 years old. I am one of those parents who tries to be honest with my children even when it's uncomfortable, so I told him the truth in as simple terms as I could manage. I said that when some people die they want their body to be buried and other people want it to be cremated, which means that it is burned. Unsatisfied, he asked me how the body is burned, so I told him there are special places that do it and they have really big ovens that they use. (Gasp!) That seemed to satisfy him. About a week later, again in the car and again out of nowhere, Sweetie asked "Mommy, are we going to cook Gigi?"

I think he understands the concept of cremation.

What My Children Think of Me

I stole this off of my Facebook page. I just thought it was so cute.

I asked my children a series of questions and wrote down their answers. Sweetie is 6 years old and Stinker just turned 4. I asked the questions separately so they were not influenced by their brother's answer.

1. What is something mom always says to you?
Stinker: "I love you." Sweetie: "I love you."
[Hmmmm ... can't get much better than that!!]

2. What makes mom happy?
Stinker: "When I play nicely." Sweetie: "When I laugh."
[Both true.]

3. What makes mom sad?
Stinker: "When I hurt your feelings." Sweetie: "When I feel like you don't like me."
[Again, both true.]

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
Stinker: "Tickle." Sweetie: "By doing funny things." [Like what?] "For example, telling me funny jokes that I never heard."
[Sweetie's answer is a little surprising ... I don't tell that many jokes, just the same ones over and over.]

5. What was your mom like as a child?
Stinker: "I don't know." Sweetie: "I don't know."
[Apparently, we need to have more conversations about my childhood. And they need to speak to my mother!]

6. How old is your mom?
Stinker: "40." Sweetie: "I can't remember."
[hee hee - Stinker is close]

7. How tall is your mom?
Stinker: "I don't know." Sweetie: "I think you are ten feet."
[hee hee]

8. What is Mom's favorite thing to do?
Stinker: "Play with me." Sweetie: "Hear us laugh."
[Both true.]

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
Stinker: "Clean up." Sweetie: "Usually work."
[Again, both true.]

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
Stinker: "I don't know." Sweetie: "Money." [How would money make me famous?] "Because you want to be rich."
[hee hee. Actually, HE wants to be rich. I would just like to be comfortable!]

11. What is your mom really good at?
Stinker: "Exercising at the gym." Sweetie: "Loving us."
[Sweetie's answer made me verklempt.]

12. What is your mom not very good at?
Stinker: "Listening to me when I tell you to come and look at stuff." Sweetie: "Fixing stuff."
[Both true. In my defense, Stinker whines all the time, and his "come and look" voice is the same as his whining voice!]

13. What does your mom do for a job?
Stinker: "I don't know." Sweetie: "Your job is to work with people." [What do I do with people?] "Go on the computer and work, writing notes and sending messages."
[Both good answers as I am currently unemployed and spend a lot of time on the computer searching, emailing, applying, etc.]

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
Stinker: "Blueberries." Sweetie: "Candy."
[Both good answers!]

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
Stinker: "Doing something pretty." Sweetie: "When you're nice."
[hee hee. Stinker picked up on my feeble Martha Stewart tendencies, and Sweetie picked up on my "service" activities going on since I've been unemployed.]

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
Stinker: "Squidward [from Spongebob Squarepants] because you have lines on your head just like he does." Sweetie: "Scooby Dooby Doo because he's the best."
[Stinker's answer - OUCH! Apparently I need some Botox]

17. What do you and your mom do together?
Stinker: "Work." [what kind of work?] "Wash the car." Sweetie: "We play together."
[hee hee - Stinker had helped me wash the car precisely one time. Though he "cleans" everything right now.]

18. How are you and your mom the same?
Stinker: "We have the same eyebrows." Sweetie: "We're both humans."
[Both answers make me laugh.]

19. How are you and your mom different?
Stinker: "Hair color." Sweetie: "You have long hair and I have short hair."

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
Stinker: "You say it." Sweetie: "I just do."

21. What does your mom like most about your dad?
Stinker: "We used to be a family." Sweetie: "He's cute."
[Stinker's answer is a little heartbreaking.]

22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
Stinker: "Disneyland." Sweetie: "Home."

Out of the Mouth of My Babe

Okay, I'm not even sure I should share this. I'm hoping some other parents out there have experienced a similar horror and can relate.

I was sitting at the table with Sweetie, keeping him company while he did his homework. He was busy cutting and gluing when out of his mouth, out of the blue, fly the following words: "Mom, did you know white people are better than black people?" WHAT?? I just sat there for a second, with my mouth literally hanging open. I knew I had to say something, but I needed a bit of time to get a grasp of what he just said.

As background, The Ex and I are about as WASPy as you can get these days. He is a blue-eyed blonde from a judeo-christian family; his mother is first generation American citizen by birth (her parents were born in Italy) but his father's family has been here for a long time. I am a fair skinned brunette with ancestors who arrived on the Mayflower. We are pretty much lovers of everybody (except each other [wink]). We live in a diverse neighborhood and Sweetie has always been in multi-cultural schools and classrooms. In fact, he was the only "whitey" in his kindergarten class; it was a beautiful blend of children with all different skin colors, and he is one of only two "whiteys" in first grade. To my knowledge, neither The Ex nor I have ever talked about anyone in terms of skin color in front of our kids; it just doesn't come up in conversations, with each other or with others.

After I got over the initial shock, I cross-examined Sweetie about where he would get such an idea. Turns out, in his study of Abraham Lincoln as we approached Lincoln's birthday, he learned a little bit about slavery. To my horror, he learned that all the rich and powerful white guys had black slaves, and that was because whites are better than blacks. He did NOT learn, however, that slavery was so wrong that our country fought a war over it!! He did NOT learn, however, that those rich and powerful white guys were wrong!! Oh. My. God. So, I took a deep breath and explained, in as age-appropriate terms as I could, what was so wrong with slavery. I was encouraged when he said "I feel really bad that I said that, Mom. Slavery was mean."