Feel Good Song of the Day (Blast from the Past Edition)

One of my college friends posted this song to Facebook yesterday. Oh, the memories! I think she and I must have listened to this song thousands of times.

I just watched the video and it made me feel like I'm actually sitting outside Heavilon Hall on a cool autumn morning, Shakespeare notebook in hand, listening to cassette tapes on my Walkman! (And it's such a good song that I don't even feel as OLD as I should feel actually admitting I listened to cassette tapes on my Walkman!)

Here it is, "The Whole of the Moon" by The Waterboys:



It's such a great song about living passionately, with a vision for the future. Here's a few of my favorite lines (all of the lyrics are on the Youtube page):

I was grounded
While you filled the skies
I was dumbfounded by truths
You cut through lies
I saw the rain-dirty valley
You saw Brigadoon
I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon!

I spoke about wings
You just flew
I wondered, I guessed, and I tried
You just knew
I sighed
But you swooned
I saw the crescent
You saw the whole of the moon!
The whole of the moon!

This post is dedicated with love and laughter and lots of fond memories to Sheila!

More from Ayn Rand about Childhood

Last month, I wrote a tome of a post about one of the most common Ayn Rand/Objectivist myths that crops up from time to time: the idea that Ayn Rand was hostile toward or discouraged people from having children and enjoying a healthy family life. Believe it or not, I find I have more to say on the subject! Long-winded, that's me.

Actually I don't have as much to say about it so much as I'd like to share with you some quotations from Ayn Rand on the subject. I have generally found that when people misunderstand the things she wrote, it's because they're either missing some relevant context or are simply passing along (sometimes unknowingly) a piece of misinformation they acquired secondhand. When I'm asked a question about what Objectivists or Ayn Rand might say on a certain topic, I think it's best to let Ayn Rand speak for herself.

So today I'll quote a little more from Atlas Shrugged. SPOILER ALERT--no major spoilers ahead, but just so you know, it's possible I might give something away. And hey, if you haven't read it yet, hie thee hither to yon local bookshop and get thee a copy, quick! For extra Atlas Shrugged goodness, don't miss Diana's Explore Atlas Shrugged series on Rationally Selfish Radio. I've listened to the first episode, and some of the second episode, and it's really well-done. Kid-willing, I hope to get caught up this weekend.

One of my favorite details in the novel is her description of the childhood experiences of Francisco d'Anconia, Dagny Taggart, and Eddie Willers. Francisco stayed with the Taggarts for one month every summer, and they all had amazing adventures together. Talk about Free Range Kids! (All quotations from the 35th Anniversary Edition paperback):

"I don't know what sort of motto the d'Anconias have on their family crest," Mrs. Taggart said once, "but I'm sure that Francisco will change it to 'What for?' " It was the first question he asked about any activity proposed to him--and nothing would make him act, if he found no valid answer. He flew through the days of his summer month like a rocket, but if one stopped him in mid-flight, he could always name the purpose of his every random movement. Two things were impossible to him: to stand still or to move aimlessly.

"Let's find out" was the motive he gave to Dagny and Eddie for anything he undertook, or "Let's make it." These were his only forms of enjoyment.

. . .

The three of them set out every morning on adventures of their own kind. Once, an elderly professor of literature, Mrs. Taggart's friend, saw them on top of a pile in a junk yard, dismantling the carcass of an automobile. He stopped, shook his head and said to Francisco, "A young man of your position ought to spend his time in libraries, absorbing the culture of the world." "What do you think I'm doing?" asked Francisco.

There were no factories in the neighborhood, but Francisco taught Dagny and Eddie to steal rides on Taggart trains to distant towns, where they climbed fences into mill yards or hung on window sills, watching machinery as other children watched movies.

. . .

Railroad conductors caught them, once in a while. Then a station-master a hundred miles away would telephone Mrs. Taggart: "We've got three young tramps here who say that they are--" "Yes," Mrs. Taggart would sigh, "they are. Please send them back." (pp. 94-95)

This brief glimpse into the early years of three of the novel's protagonists depicts a childhood of freedom and autonomy. These kids were trusted, loved, motivated by their own desire to explore the world, and free to do so.

As a parent, there's almost no sound more thrilling to me than when one of my kids says "Let's do it!" or "I've got an idea!" or "No thanks, Mom, I want to do this myself. I'm trying to figure something out." When they proudly show off their accomplishments--a drawing or a construction project or a new physical skill--the look of pure joy and pride on their faces is exciting.

And now here's something from the What Not To Do file. In this scene (I'll try not to give too much away), one character meets a tragic end, and Hank Rearden, another of the novel's main protagonists, considers the primary cause of the young man's fate:

[Rearden] felt an anger too intense to identify except as a pressure within him: it was a desire to kill.

The desire was not directed at the unknown thug who had sent a bullet through the boy's body, or at the looting bureaucrats who had hired the thug to do it, but at the boy's teachers who had delivered him, disarmed, to the thug's gun--at the soft, safe assassins of college classrooms who, incompetent to answer the queries of a quest for reason, took pleasure in crippling the young minds entrusted to their care.

Somewhere, he thought, there was this boy's mother, who had trembled with protective concern over his groping steps, while teaching him to walk, who had measured his baby formulas with a jeweler's caution, who had obeyed with a zealot's fervor the latest words of science on his diet and hygiene, protecting his unhardened body from germs--then had sent him to be turned into a tortured neurotic by the men who taught him that he had no mind and must never attempt to think. Had she fed him tainted refuse, he thought, had she mixed poison into his food, it would have been more kind and less fatal.

He thought of all the living species that train their young in the art of survival, the cats who teach their kittens to hunt, the birds who spend such strident effort on teaching their fledglings to fly--yet man, whose tool of survival is the mind, does not merely fail to teach a child to think, but devotes the child's education to the purpose of destroying his brain, of convincing him that thought is futile and evil, before he has started to think.

From the first catch-phrases flung at a child to the last, it is like a series of shocks to freeze his motor, to undercut the power of his consciousness. "Don't ask so many questions, children should be seen and not heard!" -- "Who are you to think? It's so, because I say so!" -- "Don't argue, obey!" -- "Don't try to understand, believe!" -- "Don't rebel, adjust!" -- "Don't stand out, belong!" -- "Don't struggle, compromise!" -- "Your heart is more important than your mind!" -- "Who are you to know? Your parents know best!" -- "Who are you to know? Society knows best!" -- "Who are you to know? The bureaucrats know best!" -- "Who are you to object? All values are relative!" -- "Who are you to want to escape a thug's bullet? That's only a personal prejudice!"

Men would shudder, he thought, if they saw a mother bird plucking the feathers from the wings of her young, then pushing him out of the nest to struggle for survival--yet that was what they did to their children. (pp. 922-923)

Again I ask, are these really the words of someone who was hostile toward children, who was uninterested in how they should be properly raised? She certainly understood how crushing the words "Because I said so!" are to a child, both in spirit and mind. I think that phrase should have no place in the home of children being raised to value their own rationality.

So there you go! More words straight from Ayn Rand that contradict the notion that she viewed families and children as necessarily "soul-killing," an endeavor not worthy of effort. I'm sure I'll find more that I'll need to get out of my system at some point.

Yaron Brook at Georgia Tech!

I'm excited to be going to Yaron Brook's talk at Georgia Tech next week! If you aren't familiar with Dr. Brook, he's the President and Executive Director of the Ayn Rand Institute. He also has been featured on Pajamas TV, ARC TV, and Fox News, among other venues.

The talk happens to fall on our regular babysitting night, so I don't even need to scramble to find a sitter. :o) YAY!

Here's the relevant information (via Diana Hsieh, and thanks for suggesting I blog this!):

Dr. Yaron Brook will be speaking in Atlanta on Tuesday, November 3rd at 7:00pm. The title of the talk is "Capitalism Without Guilt: The Moral Case for Freedom". In this talk Dr. Brook will argue that today’s crisis is a failure of the un-free market, and explain why the free market has taken the blame for a crisis caused by government intervention.

The event is hosted by the Georgia Tech Students of Objectivism. The talk is located on Georgia Tech's campus in the Instructional Center, Room 105.

There is no RSVP required. Please contact dhthomps@gatech.edu with any questions.

Thanks to the Georgia Tech Students of Objectivism group for hosting this event! I plan to do a short write up of the event here on the blog.

Fears

My kids have been experiencing a resurgence of fears lately. It's a challenge for a parent to help their kids manage their fears in a rational way, and I'm learning that this becomes more challenging (for me) as the kids get older.

Sean is currently in the throes of developmentally age-appropriate separation/stranger anxiety. This happens because he has finally understood that he and I are separate people and his memory has developed to the extent that he can remember me when I'm absent. And since Mommy is the Source of All Goodness in the Universe, it means he freaks when he can't see me. This is difficult for both of us, but I also know it's a normal stage for appropriately attached toddlers to go through. Each child has experienced it differently in terms of intensity and duration, but the symptoms are generally the same: there is a toddler up my butt at all times.

I'm encouraged though--the symptoms seem to be easing just a bit. I'm often able to be in a different room from him for up to 3 minutes before the freak. He is fine with the babysitter (after the initial shock of course). He hung out with Kelly for a good 45 minutes at the farm the other day and did just fine. She said he kept looking for me, but didn't get sad. It helps that he knows her so well, but even a few weeks ago, this might not have been such a pleasant experience for either of them!

Morgan's fears are more sophisticated and imaginative. For her, it boils down to one thing: demons. Yes, we're very clear with her about the fact that demons are pretend. But really, it doesn't matter--even though she knows they aren't real, she fears the idea of them all the same.

It's interesting that she can handle other things that you might imagine would scare a child of 4.5. We've recently seen the firstand thirdIndiana Jones movies. None of the face melting or crumbling into dust seemed to bother her in the least. I was about 10 when I saw the face melting and was thoroughly traumatized. And just so nobody is worried--we watched these movies with the kids slowly over the course of several days, taking breaks when things became worrisome, and talking with them about what happened. We tend to do that when they want to see something that we think might be hard for them to handle intellectually or emotionally. (We also don't initiate such things--I'm not in a big hurry to have them watch Indiana Jones, especially. This was a request of hers that we decided to honor, in a way in which we could observe her and support her if necessary.)

The way we handle fears of imagination is generally to provide lots of comfort during the upset times, remind them occasionally how pretend the thing is, and we also fight fantasy with fantasy. I think one key component to getting over any kind of fear is feeling somewhat in control of the situation. Sometimes, it's enough to have control over avoiding your fear. Sometimes, you need to be more proactive.

Hence, Demon Spray. Before Morgan goes to bed, if she expresses concerns about the demons in her room, we give her a small spray bottle with water in it. We told her, "Well, you know demons are just pretend, right? But you're still scared and I understand. Why don't we pretend this bottle is filled with Demon Spray? Demons hate getting wet and they hate Demon Spray most of all! So you just spray this around your room and those demons will stay out!" This makes her feel better, it really does.

By the way, demons also hate flowers, My Little Pony, Hello Kitty, pink walls, purple polka dots, purple curtains, stuffed dogs of any size or color, and butterflies. Isn't it nice that her room is so thoughtfully set up so as to discourage demon activity? We even gave her one of our little gargoyles to guard her room. He sits in her window, just triple-dog-daring any demons to get in there.

Ryan went through a similar thing with pirates at her age. Pirate Spray and room decor did the trick. I know this phase will pass for her . . . eventually.

Ryan's fears are more sophisticated still. He's always been a cautious sort, a worrier, and he's always had a hard time with separations. It was weeks before he'd walk into chess class confidently and without a pep talk/limit setting by me.

Now he's really beginning to get caught up in Real Life Fears. He freaked out at the fact I send in our homeschool paperwork once a month. Why do I need to do this? What do they need to know this stuff for? Why do they make silly laws? What will happen if I don't send in the papers? How can we get them to change that law? Can we do that NOW?

Don't get him started on Obama or taxes. He hears us talking, and hears our opinions about such things. We no longer have satellite television, and only rarely listen to news on the radio. Which is good, because we'd certainly have to give those things up now. As it is, Brendan and I need to be more guarded about how we talk about political issues.

I think it's fine for us to give him information and tell him our opinion about them. But we need to try to be more matter-of-fact in how we talk about politics and I think we need to try to do it less frequently. He just doesn't have the full context or maturity to understand what we're talking about, yet he's bright enough and imaginative enough to be able to draw amazingly accurate conclusions. Which he then worries about. And yet, I don't want to censor myself completely, or shelter him completely, but there's a fine line here that I'm still trying to locate.

And last week, our car got broken into. :o( What happened was that some person(s) went down our street early in the morning, testing car doors. Many of our neighbors had stuff swiped out of their cars. I had forgotten to lock the van door the night before, due to a late-night grocery store run, and our GPS was stolen. Brendan's car was locked, which was a good thing, since his computer was in it!

This event could not have happened at a worse time for Ryan developmentally. I was irritated about the loss of our GPS, but other than the fact that it had all of our addresses programmed into it, I'm not terribly upset. And we're really more careful about locking our doors, of course. But the fact is, it's just a thing. Things are replaceable, or do-without-able. It is also upsetting to think that someone was in our van, touching our things, especially because we live in a safe neighborhood in a safe suburb. I suspect that it was probably just stupid teenagers. (Brendan is not so sure.)

Ryan is very worried though. I've been letting him lock the cars at night, again, to give him some measure of control over the situation. We often have him help lock up the house at night, too. But Bad Guys have always been an issue with him, and this incident certainly didn't help.

By the way, don't ever ever EVER cross this kid. He is actively calling for EXECUTION as the ideal way to deal with the thugs who took our GPS system. Reminds me of that Star Trek: The Next Generation episode where they visited a crime-free planet. It was crime-free because the penalty for any crime was instant death. Poor Wesley Crusher stepped on some plants and that was bad news. This is pretty much Ryan's dream legal system.

The other issue with his fears--and this is very much a Ryan Thing--is that he needs to TALK about them. He worries aloud and fears aloud and dreams up retribution aloud and questions aloud and makes plans and strategies and tactics. Aloud. Until you've gone completely insane.

I talk back (it's very much a Jenn Thing) and usually try to turn the focus around to Things Within Our Control. I often just let him vent, but he tends to get stuck in Worry Cycles (wow is he ever MY child!), and works himself up into tears with his worries. I know that as I've figured out how to better manage my own tendency to worry and imagine the worst-case scenario for any given problem (no matter how small), I personally feel better when I remember to focus on the things in my control. So that's my tactic--but I'm looking for more ideas!!!!!

We've altered how we do things around here because of his lengthy, vicious Worry Cycles. We used to have to prepare Ryan waaaaaaay in advance for any changes--leaving to go somewhere, a class, a babysitter, even a visitor. He needed time to prepare himself, to imagine what might happen, to ask questions and get answers, and to talk and talk and talk and talk about it as he processed the anticipated change.

Now, because of this new phase he's in, we do the complete opposite. We now give him very little time to adjust to a change. Babysitter coming tonight? Tell him 5 minutes before she shows, or maybe when she knocks at the door. If he asks, we answer him honestly, but we don't dwell on the subject. Going to the park, let's go NOW! Leaving the park--time to GO! Chess class coming up? Don't mention it until we're loading up into the car to go to class. Taekwondo sparring night? Time to get dressed and GO!

This has been a difficult change to make because I'm so used to providing him with a lot of lead time. But when I remember to do it, it's made our transitions much easier on all of us. In fact, I just asked him about this, and he agrees that he'd rather know about things right when they're about to happen instead of having lots of time to think about it. When asked why, he said "Because I'm good at guessing things. But sometimes I guess things that make me worry." Yup. And that's pretty good self-awareness for a 7.5 year old, isn't it?

I know that eventually, his brain will mature and he will be better able to handle his fears. I think the best thing to do is help him find strategies for coping with his fears and to try to reassure him that he is safe and that we will keep him safe.

More ideas?

By the way, for a great discussion on a related topic--death--check out the OGrownups list! Diana shared what she wrote on that thread here. You don't have to be an Objectivist to lurk on the group (although you do if you'd like to post). I've enjoyed the discussions on this list--very thought-provoking!

Look on my Works, Ye Mighty, and Despair!

No, I am not exactly Ozymandias, but I am a Mommy Blogger, and I have POWER over you, dear Reader.

At least, that's what the FTC thinks. And they have now set things up so as to save innocent blog readers from falling under the mysterious spell of bloggers who write about . . . wait for it . . . products they use!

(These guidelines have been in the works for a while, and the news about their adoption broke while I was out of town or between trips, and so I didn't have a chance to comment about the topic then. But that's okay. This issue is NOT going away, and so one more slightly belated voice raised in protest can only help our cause.)

If I fail to disclose any relationship I have with a company when writing about a product or service, to protect you, O Reader, from any false sort of persuasion due to my ABSOLUTE AND COMPLETE POWER OVER YOU, I can be fined up to $16,000. AND the company can be fined. And I can be fined if I forget to properly disclose my relationship in the future. If the company or I make false claims about the product, we're in big trouble. If a company makes a false claim and I am not aware of it and review the product, then I am in trouble. If I make something up and falsely review the product, then THEY are in trouble.

I think. I'm not exactly sure what I might be responsible for, even though I have spent some time perusing the guidelines. The problem is, the rules are so unclear that even the FTC Commissioner doesn't ezackly know how they will be applied. From Voices for Reason:

So let’s review. Bloggers must now obey guidelines which are so “complex” that even the FTC doesn’t know exactly what they mean, and will have to decide on a “case-by-case basis.”

But not to worry: the FTC will inevitably “clarify” their rules with a never-ending series of elaborations, definitions, arcane legal distinctions, and arbitrary exceptions, which you will be expected to wade through if you should be so recalcitrant as to discuss books and products online.

The ironic thing is that I have received a free product I'd like to review, and I'm going to very soon so as to dupe you into buying it for yourself tell you what I think about it, but I thought I ought to write this post first. Just so you know how I feel about being so POWERFUL.

You may refer to me as Sauron if you like. One Blog to Rule them All . . . . Well, I suppose that would be Heather Armstrong, the most famous powerful Mommy Blogger of all time. Or maybe I'm more like Dr. Horrible: "The world is a mess, and I just need to rule it." (I wonder how the FTC rules will affect his blog?)

But really, I am POWERFUL, and I really need a (sarcastic) way to express it. Oh, here's an idea! My friend's little boy once came up with the amusingly brilliant (and accurate) portmanteau: Momnisicient. I hereby declare my MOMNIPOTENCE! You may tremble now. Go on. You know you want to.

However, in the interest of full and complete and absolute disclosure, and just so we're all on the same page here, allow me to tell you about a little policy I have on my blog called "Make Up Your Own Mind." Here is generally how things work around Rational Jenn (and indeed, in my 3D life, too):

I think for myself and decide things for myself. Sometimes I get opinions from Brendan or my friends. Sometimes I agree with those opinions; sometimes I do not. I do quite a lot of research when there's a particular topic I'm yearning to learn about. I believe some of the things I read--and don't believe other things.

I think that honesty is a virtue and practice it every day. Here on the blog, and in real life. It's no fun to deliberately deceive people, you see, because that creates stress and mistrust and unhealthy relationships. I value the healthy relationships I have in real life, and I value having healthy e-relationships (we need a new word for this) with those of you who read my blog and take the time to comment or link to me. I'd be shooting myself in the foot if I made a habit of deceitful behavior in my life. I really have no good reason to be dishonest here, or in real life. (There's some rational self-interest for you.)

I use my independent mind and decide what I think about things. And I am honest in my dealings with others. In fact, I highly recommend this as a generally good way to live life. In fact, I feel so strongly about this, that I also have expectations of the people in my life--in 3D life, and yes, here on the blog.

Here's what I expect, dear Reader--that you use your independent mind to decide things for yourself. Oh yes, and be honest, too. I'm sure everyone reading this can agree to that, right? Great.

In the words of a more modern poet, perhaps not quite as illustrious as Shelley:

Do what you want to do
And go where you're going to
Think for yourself
'Cause I won't be there with you.

Or else I'll use my Momnipotence. And trust me, it won't be pretty!

Thanks for reading. And because I just can't stop being sarcastic about these silly guidelines:

This post, and all of my posts, represents my true, honest, independent thinking and has not been unduly or insidiously influenced by anyone else. Also, furthermore, and without further ado, I hereby declare that I expect anyone who stops by this here blog to do his own thinking. THIS MEANS EVERYONE. So, you get to believe me or not, laud or disparage anything you see here as you deem necessary (but I hope that if you need to disparage, you're kind--or at least funny--about it.) Also also wik: I suspect that I'll be linking to this post often, and with great sarcasm, when and if I am in a position to expose the source of my TRULY MOMNIPOTENT POWER over my Readers, in the event I am providing my true and honest and independent opinion about some kind of product or service. So you might see this disclaimer again. Many times.

That is all. I'm sorry this was necessary at all, but don't blame me. Talk to someone at the FTC.

Halloween!

Halloween is upon us, and this year we're doing things a bit differently. We have yet to do any decorating, which is good and bad. Good, because I know I would quickly grow tired of trying to keep the toddler from going Godzilla all over Spooky Town (as appropriate as that might be to the season). Bad, because, well, I really really LIKE Spooky Town and our decorations.

Our annual Halloween Hoopla is still a go and we'll put up some spooky decor and pumpkins in honor of that occasion. I bought some treats for the goodie bags a month ago at Target, and that was just a stroke of brilliance and excellent planning on my part. Because now I don't have to rush around at the last minute to prep for the party. Remind me to do this every year.

It will be a fun party, and allow me to take a minute to thank our guests in advance for being willing to help their little ones keep the unsafe candy to eat at home. And thank you to anyone out there who is thinking about the kids with food allergies and is taking the time to find a way for them to participate in the Halloween festivities.

Halloween is a Big Exception to our usual rules. Every other day of the year, we keep Ryan AWAY from peanuts. On Halloween, we actually send him out of the house, looking for treats that are more likely than not to contain his deadly allergen.

We can do this because he and his siblings and friends follow the food rules at our Halloween party. No eating the trick-or-treat candy while you're out in the neighborhood. Eat only the treats we have available in our house. For my kids, they give up most of their candy in exchange for peanut-safe treats. For our guests, they leave the candy they collected in Mom's car and have to wait until later to eat any of it. And they get the unsafe candy my kids collected as sort of a consolation prize for being such good sports.

Why do we even go through the stress (and it is a bit stressful, I admit)? Because Halloween is fun! It's a fun tradition I've always loved. Dressing up in costumes, getting a little spooky, walking around with the other kids in the neighborhood, collecting candy and spider rings. It was a big event in my childhood, and it's a big event for my children.

I think we have found a way to allow Ryan to participate in this fun event while managing the risks involved in a reasonable way. Hosting the party gives us a certain measure of control over the food which helps us enjoy the event more. Setting reasonable limits that the parents and kids agree to follow as well as making the whole thing as fun as possible means that everyone can be safe and everyone can have a great time.

Yes, this is risky for him. But there are risks in life. I'd rather teach him how to have fun in a safe way than live his life afraid of risking anything. Halloween should be a little bit spooky, but not frightening in that sense.

And in case you're wondering what the kids are going to be this year: Ryan will be a Red Clone Trooper from Star Wars, Morgan is going to be Minnie Mouse, and Yoda Sean will be, hmmmmm. I haven't even thought about a costume for me, so I don't know if I'll be dressing up. I'll have to see if I can figure something out. I can always be Professor Sprout minus the mandrake, I guess!

A Response from Disney

This afternoon, I had a message on my answering machine from Walt Disney World's Guest Services, regarding my email about the Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party.

They did not disappoint. :o)

After expressing her regret about our experience, the representative then informed me of the fact that they did indeed offer non-food trick-or-treat bags, in City Hall at the entrance to the Magic Kingdom. They also offered trick-or-treat bags with allergy-friendly candy, too.

It is disappointing that none of the WDW Peopleguys we spoke to that night were aware of this fact! I personally spoke with four people, and I think Brendan spoke with a couple people, too. But! Now we know--WDW continues in their very food-allergy-aware tradition, and didn't leave us out (although there needs to be some improved communication among employees, of course).

In addition to telling me about the food allergy trick-or-treating options, the representative offered us a free day at the Magic Kingdom, to make up for our disappointment, and for our kids not getting to trick-or-treat! Talk about great customer service. :o)

We're tentatively planning another trip next fall with friends, and to take Sean when he's 2.5 (which is, so far in my WDW experience with kids, the absolute cutest age to take them). So we'll put that ticket to good use!

So anyway--get the word out! Go to City Hall at the front of Magic Kingdom for your food-allergy-friendly / non-candy treat bags (because many parents of kids without food allergies might prefer that option, too!).

YAY WDW!!!!

A Carnival, A Pet Peeve & and A Few Good Things

Yes, this is a mish-mash of topics all in one blog post. :o)

Carnival

The 119th edition of the Objectivist Round Up is over at The Rule of Reason! Do not miss it!


Pet Peeve

I tweeted this yesterday, but need to expand. I spend quite a bit of time in waiting rooms with Sean while the older kids are in activities. Sometimes I'm waiting with just Sean, sometimes one of the older kids is also with me. Many times, other people with younger kids will leave them in the waiting room and disappear, either watching their older child or stepping out of the building to take a phone call. This really irritates me, because as the lone grownup, I end up arbitrating disputes among other people's kids. Often these kids will interrupt me and want to talk or ask me questions, which is just as irritating as being interrupted by my own kids!

I don't want to sound like a big old meanie, but I hate this! I don't mind interacting with other people's kids--I usually enjoy it. But they should not be my responsibility and I think it's the height of rudeness to assume that I am willing to be in charge of your kids while you get to sit in the gym and watch Taekwondo class. (I would LOVE to sit in there and watch TKD class!) Or possibly it comes from the fact that you are ignorant of the fact that your 5 year old might need some adult assistance when interacting with other kids for 45 minutes. Do you leave them at home all alone for 45 minutes with their older siblings?

I spent a lot of time last night--in addition to chasing my toddler and dealing with interruptions from my 4.5 year old--helping a 5 year old girl deal with two older girls who were teasing her. This child is very tall for her age, and once I explained to the older girls that she was really quite a bit younger and that she didn't understand their game, things got better, but then this child would not leave me or Morgan alone. She's a nice girl, but one who has no concept of personal space and would. not. leave. Morgan. alone. I get that other kids don't understand kids who have big personal bubbles--but this is where her mother could have really helped out. I was unable to speak to this mom last night, but I will do this when I can. If her 5 year old is too immature to sit through class in the gym, then her mom needs to be with her in the waiting room.

Thank you. That is all of the complaining I'm going to do!


Good Things (Last Three Days Edition)

• Since I've been talking a lot about hugging around here, Sean has learned the concept and the word. He looks at me and says huggahhhhhh and then gives me a hug. Love.

• Morgan told us last night that she DIDN'T want to go to bed--not even if she had another Indiana Jones dream! :o) I think she likes Harrison Ford (and who could blame her?). She told us that she handed Indy another pistol in her dream and he told her thanks!

• Things are better with Ryan, and thanks to my friend Kelly, I have many other ideas to consider when dealing with this current phase of difficulties.
  

• We're going to be doing more history this afternoon. And that is something we all enjoy!
  

• We received several toy catalogs in the mail today, and the Big Kids are happily circling pictures and dreaming out loud. I used to LOVE doing that!
  

• The weather is lovely--just the kind of October I expect here in Georgia. And the cabin is renting nicely these days, too. :o)

Amy is restarting up her Good Things list, too! It's definitely a useful exercise. I highly recommend trying it, even if you don't feel the need to write about it on a blog.

Hugs Update: Moderate Success

So anyway, Ryan and I have been struggling for the last few days. There's really too much to write about, and most of the details are unimportant, but I'll just say he's been really mean and uncooperative and belligerent lately. I'm tired. He's even acting out physically--we had to literally carry/drag/hold him away from an outing last weekend while he hit and kicked at us. On one hand, it's so irritating that he is doing this stuff at 7.5. On the other, he has self-control and really didn't hit hard--it was clearly a Test, Only a Test.

I have to wonder if some of this is a way of releasing stress from our recent travels and the disruption to our morning routine because of Brendan's new job. I think it's safe to say that these two things are definitely factors. Because Morgan has been really out of sorts lately, too, with not one but three full-blown tantrums yesterday alone. Now that she's 4.5, her tantrums don't last quite as long and are not quite as intense (and she's never really been a huge one for tantrums in general). I suppose that's the upside to having this behavior happen when they're older--they do have and exhibit more self-control than they did at 2 or 3. (Hey, I'm doing anything to find an upside lately!)

So yesterday, Ryan and I had another problem. I think I handled it well, and I even incorporated the Hugs PD Tool Card, although it wasn't in a tantrum situation. Bear with me; it's long!

Every other Wednesday, we have Cleaning Peopleguys come and do the vacuuming and other light cleaning. We've done this for years, mostly because although my allergies are much better after five years of allergy shots, I'm still pretty allergic to dust mites and vacuuming (even with a HEPA filter) is bad news. Also, to be honest, it's kind of a treat for me!

Since every other Wednesdays are cleaning days, every other Tuesdays are picking up days. So we pick up all of the toys and papers and other crap off of the floors and put them away so the vacuuming can be done (and so I feel like I have a clean house at least once every two weeks). The older children help me with this task, especially in their bedrooms.

Our deal is that you can keep your room any way you like, but at least once every two weeks, everything needs to be picked up so the vacuuming can happen. Morgan's room is rarely messy, since she does all of her playing down here (well, apart from painting with pink latex wall paint). Ryan's room goes through ups and downs with messes, but with my help (and I'm generally willing to provide it), it takes less than 10 minutes to pick everything up.

Yesterday, he was so mean to me and argumentative and uncooperative and mean (yes I'll say it again), that when it came time for our Tuesday pick up, I was all out of patience and didn't want to help him clean up and told him he was on his own. He rudely demanded my help. I told him that after being offered unkindness from him (in the form of rude words and non-cooperation) so many times today that I didn't want to offer him kindness (in the form of help with room-cleaning) in return.

He angrily shouted: "You HAVE to help me pick up my room!"

And I calmly said: "No I don't. I might have considered helping you even now, had you asked me in a kind way. But I do not have to help and I do not WANT to help. It's up to you to get this done."

By the way--I was all kinds of proud myself for remaining so calm throughout the entire incident!

So of course he refused to do it at all, which didn't surprise me in the least. I reminded him of our longstanding agreement and that I expected him to honor it, that the floors needing vacuuming. He then told me with a smug Checkmate kind of look on his face "Well, I'm not going to do it, so I guess you'll have to help me after all!"

ARG. AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH. And still I did not lose it.

I thought for a moment and then told him that yes, I was willing to pick up the toys off of his floor because I needed the vacuuming to get done. But that didn't mean I'd put them away in his toy bins. Because I was worried he'd just take them out again and mess up his room (because somewhere during this argument--which I'm condensing because both Ryan and I were involved--he'd threatened to do just that).

So I gave him a choice to make: "I'm going to fold some laundry and take a shower. You have until I'm all finished with those things to clean your floor. If the floors aren't clean, then I will clean them up myself and put the toys somewhere out of your room, so that I can feel confident that those toys will not go right back on your floor."

More arguing ensued--a day later, it's all kind of jumbled in my memory, but the main themes were:

• "I need you to help me!!!!" My response was always something along the lines of "I already told you I'm not helping this time. You haven't been trading me kindness today and I really don't want to help you."

• "It's MY room! These are MY things!" My response: "Yes, those are your things and this is your room. But this room is in my house, the house Daddy and I pay for. The carpets belong to me, and I need them vacuumed every so often to keep them clean and for my allergies." I don't think he quite understands the idea of a lease yet, or I would have compared this to an apartment rental (not that he pays rent, of course).

• "It's not fair! I'm just going to mess this up again anyway!!!! You can't make me!" Etc. My response: "This is fair. Our agreement was that you would do this every two weeks. Normally I help you, but not today. You have a chance to show me that you will honor our agreement by handling this. What you choose to do now will show me how much you value your toys because you'll get to keep them in your room, or not. The carpets will be vacuumed. The toys will be picked up. It's up to you--your choice--where your toys will go until the carpets are vacuumed. If you value having them in your room, you know which decision to make."

And after several rounds of that, I finally broke free and got my shower and laundry done. Let me tell you--he was ENRAGED. And I was pretty mad, too--but staying calm. Which was really quite remarkable, since I was wrangling the other two kids at the same time, and one of them likes to dangle over the top of the staircase because evidently he's completely forgotten about his tumble.

And Ryan didn't pick up his toys, but you knew that, didn't you? :o)

When I walked into his room, I didn't say anything and just started putting toys into his big toy box. And he actually had the nerve to say "Oh hey! I guess you're helping me pick up after all!" Arg. After I filled up that box, I walked out of the room with it, and then he flipped his cookies, grabbing it and pulling it. I put the box into Sean's bedroom and went for more. I removed three boxes of toys and got his carpet clean, all the while listening to screaming outrage and fending off the occasional half-hearted kick and attempts to pry things out of my hands. No. Really.

He said some really ugly things to me which I won't repeat here. He threatened to get his toys and go dump them back in his room. I explained that the bedroom door was locked (it's the push-and-turn kind, that you can open with a long skinny key--or shish kebab skewer, in our case). He wanted to know how long I'd keep his toys and I told him that I needed to keep them until his carpets were vacuumed.

And then I went downstairs. It felt like we'd been doing this for days (it was probably 90 minutes). After a while, I went back upstairs and said that I wasn't feeling quite so mad, and that I needed a hug. He refused. So I told him where he could find me and left. A long time later, he came down and said he wanted to talk. I just held out my arms. He stared at me for a while and then leaned against me, with his hands in his pockets. I hugged him but he didn't hug me back. I told him I loved him and that I knew we'd figure this stuff out. He leaned into me some more, and then suddenly broke away, crying. He ran upstairs, crying, "That hug made me cry! I DON'T want to talk any more!!!!"

But then after a little while longer, he did come back down and behaved nicely and more calmly than he had for days. Not perfectly, mind you, but a drastic improvement. And later on during some silly time, he gave me a long hug, which just about melted me. He did take out more of his toys and cluttered up his carpets before bedtime, but when I suggested that his picking them back up might be a good way to show me that he was willing to honor our agreement, he actually did.

And so now that the carpet is vacuumed, he can have them back. And we'll see what happens in two weeks! Or maybe even in two minutes, since I can never tell when something might turn into a Thing worth battling to the death over.

Things I am Happy about:

• Me, being calm, is a REALLY Good Thing. If I had lost it, injecting more emotion into that emotional chaos, it would have been more awful than it already was. Being calm models good behavior for him (and his spectator siblings) and is really conducive to actual problem-solving.

• I stood my ground in a non-punishy way. I got the thing I needed (I fulfilled my rational self-interest) which was clean carpets. I did NOT help him because of the way he'd been treating me, even though I was tempted to many times. But I just couldn't give in on this one, because it seemed like it would give him the idea that being an emotional bully is a good way to get what you want. Or that Mommy is a Chump. Or something like that.

• When I did pick up his toys, I was doing it for ME--not to help him. And so I wasn't in a bad mood about it.

• I think telling him that I needed a hug was a wonderful way to reconnect with him after our emotional battles. Because I really DID need a hug. I've been feeling so angry with him and that makes me feel distant from him. I wanted to remember all of the great things about him that make him such a neat kid, and I wanted to FEEL my love for him. Hugging him, even when he didn't hug me back, allowed me to feel love toward him again, instead of just anger. And when he reciprocated much later, and made obvious overtures toward reconnecting with me, it was so heartening. I know he is a nice boy, that the little tyrant isn't all there is to him. And it was so amazingly wonderful to see that side of him with my own eyes.

Oh, there's more I could write about why I don't think a traditional punishment would have improved matters and about kids and property rights, but I'm also sure you want me to end this, so I'll get to those other topics another time. Bye!

PD Tool Card: Hugs

I'm picking the Hugs card this week because we have had quite a few difficult days recently. Quite frankly, I need a hug!

Some of my frustration is simply due to the fact that I have more than one kid (which is our own doing of course, but can't be helped now).

All kids go through phases--ups and downs, easy times and challenging times. The issue when you have more than one kid is that sometimes these phases sync up--which is hard because then you are dealing with two or more really irritating challenging people at the same time.

And the other issue is that sometimes these phases DON'T sync up--which is hard because just as one kid is becoming more reasonable, another one is flipping out because suddenly she can't find the arm holes on her dress and by the way she has forgotten how to both remove and put on clothing and so tramps downstairs screaming, one arm in an arm hole in the front, her head halfway through the head hole, the empty arm hole a-flappin' in the breeze behind her.

Or something like that. :o)

I honestly don't know which is harder. When the phases sync up, it's super-dee-dooper crazy insane during the unreasonable times. But then it's simply AWESOME during the reasonable period. Perhaps too awesome, because then I forget about the hard parts.

But when they are out of sync, I feel like I never get a break. We had an AWFUL weekend with Ryan. There were good parts--fortunately mostly during the parts we were with our friends. But he was just . . . awful. As in I'm trembling for my future self during his teen years awful.

And Morgan is going through something, too, evidently (we're skipping art class this morning because it just wasn't going to be possible--a mutual decision, not a punishment or anything). But this morning, Ryan is super great and awesome! Sigh. And I don't get to enjoy it because she is crazy. Which isn't exactly true--I can still enjoy Ryan's niceness. Just not fully.

Okay then! I didn't intend this to be such a gripey post!

Right. Hugs.

This is a technique I have never actually tried before, unlike most of the other PD Tool Cards I've written about. So I'm excited to give it a go. I'll let you know! And thanks for listening!

Pictures!!!

I really had a semi-productive weekend (and lots of fun, too). More about that later, but for now, enjoy our Disney and a few wedding pictures on the FamBlog!

In Which I'm An Activist

I had an opportunity last night to help provide a little intellectual ammunition to three acquaintances. It was fun!

Ryan had sparring at TKD last night (which is going much better, btw). I got to while away an hour in the waiting room with Morgan and the Force of Destruction otherwise known as Sean (I've taken to referring to him in my head as "The Sean-ster Monster" but shhh . . . don't tell the Big Kids!). Three other parents starting talking about healthcare reform, and what a shambles everything is.

One of the moms, who is a nurse, made a comment about how the idea of healthcare as a right is completely unfair to her as a healthcare professional. The other parents generally agreed with her, and attempted to articulate the idea a couple of times and hit near the mark, but didn't quite get all the way to the principle.

So I chimed in with, "That's right! A service which has to be provided by someone else can never be a right, because that effectively enslaves the provider simply because they have the knowledge and skills." And I illustrated the point by turning to the woman who is a nurse and claiming to be injured, demanding that she take her kids out of Taekwondo class right away so that she could treat me--since I have a "right" to it!

Everyone laughed at the obvious ridiculousness, and the other woman in the conversation brightened up with a big smile on her face and said, "That's the best way I've ever heard anyone say it! Thanks. I'm going to use that in further conversation!"

Wow. What a compliment. I was all proud of myself for being so clear. :o) And I was even wearing my Taggart Transcontinental shirt, too (although Ayn Rand didn't come up specifically).

I suspect these kinds of conversations are happening all over the place, all the time. This is how ideas are spread. Exciting!

A Mini-Rant

It's been way too long since I've had a good old-fashioned rant, hasn't it? I have missed out on so many opportunities, too. So many rants; so little time.

Since this is still bothering me a little bit this morning, I'll write about it and maybe I'll feel better. Yesterday afternoon, I went to the Post Office to mail some tax forms (no, that's not even the rant!). Of course I had The People with me, and as you can imagine, waiting in a long line at the Post Office is not something they particularly enjoy.

I held the baby and the Big Kids ran around the small area. I had to ask them a couple of times not to dart in and out of the unsuspecting innocent people waiting in line (that's the term I used), but to find one spot and do their wiggling there. They did, and were shortly joined by a little girl, about 2.5 years old I'd say, who was just a happy little shrieky thing.

The kids got kind of loud. My bad. I know that I have a different threshold for "loud" than non-parents, but I really do think I pay attention to how loud they are in public and tend to err on the side of shushing. Their voices were raised, but they were NOT extremely loud or even out of control. In fact, I was thinking that it was nice of my kids to play with this other little girl.

One of the Post Office workers got the attention of someone in line, who turned to the other mom and said, "He [pointing] wants to talk to you." The mom looked up and the Post Office worker said in a loud, snotty voice, "You need to keep those kids quiet. We're trying to TALK back here!" So she and I shushed our kids.

Not two minutes later, the dull roar of grownup conversation began to increase. There were probably 20 people in line. The adults got loud--yes, louder than the kids, but Mr. I'm Trying To Talk Here said nothing about that.

I struggled very hard not to say something about my "right" to Post Office services and since I have a government-given right to Return Receipt, then it by-god shouldn't matter how me or my children behaved in this government-sanctified place of business. That they could strip naked and climb the walls and I would STILL HAVE A RIGHT TO POST OFFICE SERVICES.

I wanted to say that of course they don't care how snotty they are to their "customers" with kids because they have the force of government to back up their "services" in the "market." That if he had a real job he could actually get fired from, he might think of a nicer way to ask us to quiet the kids down and/or hold the adults to the same standard and/or make their office kid-friendly. Because companies who have to EARN their customers' business in order to make money do those things.

Oh sure, I could have gone to the UPS Store as I normally do--and they even have a nice little play area for children!--but it was too late in the day and this needed to go out. Again. My bad. Won't happen again.

I do feel better. :o)

Sixteen Months

In just a few more days, Sean will be officially 16 months old. This is one of those ages that seems to stick out in my mind, and yet each time it comes around, I discover that I'm woefully unprepared.

With Ryan, I was (and continue to be) unprepared just because he's the first one. With Morgan, I knew 16 Months was a Thing, but I was unprepared because A.) I had Mommy Amnesia and B.) I didn't think every child necessarily hits 16 Months and so was caught off-guard by the timing. (I still don't think every kid hits 16 Months right at 16 Months--but I strongly suspect they hit 16 Months at some point.)

And so it appears that Sean is going to follow the same plan as his older siblings. Right on time and all of a sudden, he's hitting this stage. I'm once again afflicted with Mommy Amnesia, and this time we're experiencing 16 Months in a house full of LEGO and art projects and homeschool supplies. And I knew it was coming! A few months ago, I remember thinking, "Ooh! 16 Months is coming up and I'll be busy." But I couldn't quite remember why 16 Months was such a busy time.

Allow me to paint a picture of what life with a such a creature is like:

• Mommy never, ever, ever sits down, not for one second.

Hmmm . . . I thought there'd be more to that, but that about sums it up right there. I'm pretty much chasing after this little booger dear all the live long day.

It's as if every little skill he's been acquiring since the minute he was born has suddenly been honed all at once. Those days and weeks of learning to control his head, arms, legs, hands, mouth, feet are now behind him. He no longer needs to concentrate on walking or grasping. He's got those things down cold. He can eat without choking and gagging, and has become an expert at picking up teeny tiny things and poking them into forbidden crevices (so far, none on his own body, fingers crossed and all that).

Now that he doesn't need to expend any mental energy on the basics--walking and talking and holding things--he turns that mental focus outward, and seems hell-bent determined to Interact with his Environment (dum-dum-DUMMMMMM!). Much to the dismay of the Environment and the other people who inhabit it.

He is a one-manchild force of destruction. Buttons are pushed, over and over again, resetting servers and starting/stopping the dishwasher. There is cat food everywhere. There are crackers everywhere. No piece of paper goes unmolested--books, tax forms, art projects, unused reams of printer paper alike are drooled on, crumpled, sat upon, chewed upon, and generally destroyed. Stairs and furniture and concrete steps are scaled without fear or regard for personal well-being. Toy after toy has been sent down the basement stairs through the cat door, a present for Daddy next time he dares go down there without turning on the lights.

And there is no distracting this persistent child. Now his memory is up and going, see, and waving something shiny in his face Isn't. Going. To. Cut. It. Because he now has a sense of his own power and desires to destroy create, he gets really freaking cranky when thwarted. On the airplane, I must have removed his hand from the flight attendant call button a hundred times (he was sitting/standing on my lap). "Not for touching. Not for touching," she says. Is he deterred at all? I think not. He's the type who views these things as a challenge. My in-laws were treated to a Keep Baby Away from the Fireplace Tools show. He couldn't have been more pleased with himself. :o)

16 Months is exhausting--for the parents. It's also exasperating for the older siblings, who are discovering that their adored baby brother is transforming from plaything to nemesis right before their very eyes.

And yet, he's really quite adorable, when he pauses in his work long enough to smile angelically before continuing his path of destruction.

So consider this a wake-up call or friendly reminder, those of you who have 16 Months ahead of you (whether soonish or waaaaay in the future). Do your sitting down NOW, because you will miss not being able to do it. Trust me.

Very Briefly

Well, our exciting life continues! Brendan's first day of work went very well, but he got stuck there late when the battery on his car died. No worries; he got a jump, picked up a new battery, and then met us in Marietta for Greek food! His second day is going nicely, too.

This morning, Ryan had his final chess class of the session and got the Blitz Chess trophy. And he was finally the recipient of the Sportsmanship Trophy, a goal he's had for a year now. I like his coaches quite a bit. When deciding who will receive the Sportsmanship Trophy, they do tend to look for kids who win and lose graciously, help set up the boards, and follow the class rules rather than simply someone who is kissing their butts. And they are such a nice group of kids that I have rarely seen butt-kissing. So Ryan was happy and proud--he's been trying to be extra helpful for so long, and many of my readers will appreciate the personal struggle involved for him in this area. :o)

Morgan had Show & Tell this morning in her class. She was very proud to bring in the Paint Your Own Umbrella given to her by Brendan's sister, which she decorated while we were up in Wisconsin. It was very cute, and I'm sure her presentation was full of cuteness, too. They talked about Fire Safety in her class, and I think I have some homework to do--we're going to have fire drills around here! Not a bad idea, really.

I took a peek at the website for the Taekwondo School and learned that Ryan did indeed earn his Purple Belt, so there will be a presentation tonight after class. He keeps saying he's having a "lucky" day because of the trophies and his new TKD belt. I keep reminding him that he is having a "great day because he's earned it." No Luck Necessary.

Oh, and I completely forgot to share with you our new favorite saying for cold weather, which Brendan taught the kids while we were up north. You wanna hear it? Well, okay then!

It's cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey!

Even more amusing than the phrase itself (which doesn't ezackly mean what you might think) is hearing Morgan or Ryan say it often and with vigor, particularly to people who aren't used to us or our ways (Brendan's relatives, for example).

Use it in your conversation today! I guarantee smiles! :o)

Home Sweet Home

I don't think I've ever been happier to be here in this house with my kids than I am today. :o)

We had a really wonderful trip up to the frigid tundra of Wisconsin (okay, a slight exaggeration, but it was cold for this time of year even by their standards--there was snow!). My mother-in-law was a beautiful bride; the kids were thrilled to participate in the wedding (even though Ryan has come out strongly against dancing of any type whatsoever); we thoroughly enjoyed visiting with everyone and catching up.

As usual, I think the kids were somewhat amazed that they have so many relations. At one point during the brunch on Sunday, Ryan remarked after being helped by one of these relations, "Aunt Terry helped me. Or Aunt Mary. Or one of these aunts we've got around here."

We all survived the airport ordeal, and I only had to remind Ryan one time not to mention his guns. We were in line at Security in Atlanta at the time, but fortunately, nobody heard (or cared) our conversation.

It occurred to me that from Sean's point of view, traveling via air might not be all that much different from Disney World or EPCOT. Imagine:

• You're stuck in the stroller looking at the legs of grownups

• There are moving sidewalks and trains and shuttle buses that are fun to ride
  

• There's lots of random music playing everywhere

• There's all kinds of little kiosks of food where Mom and Dad buy you snacks you wouldn't normally get to eat because they are desperate

• That same guy seems to make announcements in all of the airports and WDW

• There's quite a lot of waiting around only to hurry up and get onto something big for an exciting ride

• And then once you're on the Big Ride, there's lots of buttons to push (like the Call Button!) and seat belts to fiddle with and the inevitable complaining about who is sitting where and for how long.

Since both of our recent trips involved seeing quite a few people that seem to be related, I'm quite sure that if he could have a memory of each, they'd be all jumbled up together.

And now we are back to Real Life, and hopefully a semi-normal routine of some sort. Brendan began his brand new job today, which is exciting and different (in all of the good and bad ways). The holiday season is upon us, and I'm BEYOND HAPPY to be staying in Atlanta for both Thanksgiving AND Christmas. I think this will only be the first or second year we've done that since we've had children.

We have some short-term (and local!) excitement coming up, so all will not be boring, oh no. On Sunday, an Objectivist e-friend is coming to town and I'm excited to meet him in person. And of course there's Halloween to plan for, too. If I can just get the house cleaned up a bit, we'll put out our decorations over the next few days.

For now, I have so much unpacking and laundry and History at our House and reading aloud and mail sorting and grocery shopping and writing projects and catching up with people I need to get going on (which is why I'm blogging, naturally). But I have all the time in the world in which to get these things done, since we have no trips looming upon us. And somehow, that knowledge makes me feel very eager to be super-productive and knock those things off of the list.

And if I get really enterprising, I might even get the next PD Tool Card post up here on the old blog. If I don't, you may assume that I have been swallowed by laundry and/or souvenirs.

My Letter to the Disney Peopleguys

In case you're interested, here is a copy of the note I sent to Walt Disney World about our experience trick-or-treating at the Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party. I wanted to come across as polite, intelligent, knowledgeable of their business practices, and of course I played the We Love Disney World and Go There All the Time card. :o)

We visited WDW last week (from 9/27 - 10/2). The occasion was my parents' 40th wedding anniversary, and in addition to my parents, my sister, her husband, my brother, and my family (my husband and me, plus our three children, ages 7, 4, and 1) all attended. All in all, we had a wonderful trip. Disney World is one of our favorite vacation destinations. My husband and I honeymooned at WDW and so did my sister and her husband.

We attended the Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party on Tuesday, September 29, which brings me to the reason for writing. My oldest son has a life-threatening peanut allergy and we avoid major allergens for our youngest as well, on advice of our pediatrician and allergist.

I was more than a little disappointed that there were no non-candy treats available at the trick-or-treating stations. We knew that participation in the trick-or-treating would require more vigilance for our family, but I was also anticipating that there would be stickers, temporary tattoos, and other small non-candy prizes, too. (Upon looking at the website when I got home, I noticed that it does indicate "candy"--my parents bought us the tickets and I did not read the website before we went.)

My kids were pretty sad about not being able to trick-or-treat very much. We allowed them to visit a station or two, with the promise that my husband and I would inspect the candy for allergens when we returned to our resort. We ended up giving away about 4/5 of the candy they collected.

I know that there are many other food allergy families who love Disney World--and we are among them! We love feeling so well-understood when we visit WDW, and are always impressed with how well-trained and knowledgeable your staff is about food allergies. It's one of the reasons we head down every couple of years.

I'm writing to ask you to consider including non-candy items in the future, so that my kids--and other kids with food allergies--can enjoy the trick-or-treating experience without the fear of a deadly (in my son's case) allergen. That is something to really be scared about!

I'd be happy to discuss this with you further if you'd care to contact me via email or phone. I even have some ideas about how this might be implemented! I understand that it can be difficult to accommodate many different issues and/or disabilities, but my previous experiences with Walt Disney World have shown me that you always go the extra mile to ensure that every guest, no matter what issues they may face, can have a wonderful time at your parks.

Thank you for considering our concern, and I hope to hear back from you very soon.

I received the automatic email stating they received my note and I should hear back from them in about ten days. I'll let you know what they say!

Tool Card Update: Letting Go

I’m a little behind in my update for the Letting Go card, and with the traveling behind me and traveling ahead of me, this update will have to suffice as my parenting post for the week. Back to semi-regular PD Tool Card posts beginning next week!

I tried to step off the Mommy Hovercraft over the last week or two, and I think I was mostly successful in doing that. For me, “Letting Go” means leaving the kids alone to do certain tasks AND leaving them alone to handle their own affairs. I generally tried to be mindful of IF my assistance was truly needed and desired and then sat on my hands calmly remained in the background until I was called upon.

This Letting Go is something that I am usually pretty conscious of, because if I didn’t keep this issue in the forefront of my mind, I really could turn into one of those helicopter mommies. And when I sit back and let the kids interact with reality without my help or interpretation, they usually surprise the heck out of me with the range of their capabilities and the amount of their resilience.

This turned out to be an excellent week for this exercise, since we spent an unusual amount of time working on household projects, doing things that don’t normally come up in our every day lives. Brendan has been cleaning out the basement, which desperately needed it, and also cleaned out the garage. This is in preparation for his moving out of his office since he’s going to be on-site with his new job. We need a place to keep all of his crap stuff. And since his job isn’t going to start for another few weeks, this was the week to do this work.

Here’s an important way in which I Let Go of Ryan and Morgan—they spent much time downstairs with Brendan, working, and I really have no idea what it was they were doing. Morgan certainly did less actual work than Ryan, but both were in the basement sweeping and scraping off the concrete walls and hauling things to the dumpster and wiping things down and I don’t even know just what else. See? The Me Not Knowing is important here, because usually I’m so nosy I need to know everything.

Of course I knew they were just fine with Brendan and he was keeping an eye on them, but Brendan and I sometimes don’t see eye-to-eye about which tools the kids ought to be using, for example. If it had been solely up to me, they’d never use the pruning shears, because I would have just shot that idea down immediately. Brendan, who has less trouble Letting Go than I do, was the one who realized that this was a tool they could handle with proper training and supervision. And I’m glad he did—even though, yes, I tried to talk him out of it initially—because it allowed me to see for myself what the kids are capable of.

(This is a good time to briefly mention a topic I’ve been meaning to bring up for a while—that of differences in parenting styles. Brendan doesn’t always do and say the exact things I would. I know, right? And that’s okay. I think each parent needs to establish his/her own independent relationship with the kids, and differences in styles are not only inevitable, they are enriching. Of course it’s easier if both parents share the same general parenting principles, and if that’s true, then differences in application shouldn’t matter in the long run.)

I was able to Let Go in other ways, too. In addition to all manner of house project activities which they participated in but of which I have little knowledge:

• Morgan and Ryan played on a playground for hours with dozens of other kids and we mommies didn’t watch them every second. We all sat by the one entrance to bounce any wanderers back into the gated play area, but what they did exactly at the playground wasn’t closely supervised by any of us. We gave them general guidelines (“Stay in the gated area. We’ll be over here.”) and then they were off.
• Morgan and Ryan also played outside our house for hours—until it was past dark--with neighborhood kids, and only occasionally checked in with us.
• Ryan is beginning to want to play by himself in his room—I wonder if this is a new age/stage for him. He did who-knows-what up there off and on all week. :o)
• Sean climbed and bounced those ottomans all week long without serious injury, or indeed, even a fall.
• Sean used a broom to “sweep” and generally wandered around the garage work area, getting dirty, and into real tools. I removed a chisel from him, mostly because I didn’t want him to continue gouging the walls of the garage, but in general, he was allowed to play with almost anything. Of course I watched him like a hawk, but I didn’t interfere until it was necessary.
• Sean is growing more capable and skillful each day, as he’s figuring things out, so I allowed him to be the Door Master most of the week, and he thinks that’s super fun (front door, refrigerator door, dishwasher door, etc.).

All in all, a good week. As I said, this is something I am constantly working on, because I believe that too much interference by mom is actually detrimental to the child. The trick is figuring out where the line falls, when a situation goes from wait-and-see to jump-on-in.

Carpe Disney!

We're home! Such a great time in Orlando with family, the little ones, and Mickey. I'm certain I'll post pictures of our adventures at some point, but it's going to be a while to be perfectly honest. I do have some pictures over on TwitPic, though.

A few highlights, to help me remember for posterity:

I have a very, very patient baby. :o) He rode in his stroller without too much protest. We tried to let him out occasionally, which he loved, and he really didn't complain too much when we made him go back in. A real trooper.

Ryan thoroughly enjoyed the Hall of Presidents and the Riverboat ride and Hollywood Studios (it used to be called MGM). He enjoyed the shows about how they do Indiana Jones stunts and he liked seeing real props from the movie Prince Caspian. With the exception of the Star Wars ride, which he rode four times, he didn't really care for any of the classic ride experiences and opted out of several. In some ways, he's older than he is, you know? (And I don't mean that in a critical way--it's just an observation.) Oh yes, and he REALLY liked the LEGO store and the Build-Your-Own-Lightsaber place at Downtown Disney. Really.

Morgan enjoyed her Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique experience for the most part. I got a lot of it on video, and some regular pictures, too. She chose to be Ariel as a bride, and so got to wear an aquamarine dress, which is nice because aquamarine is her birthstone. I think she did that on purpose. She didn't like getting her hair done, which wasn't a huge surprise for me, really. But she bore it stoically--and then cried later, telling us how it hurt! She never said a word, poor thing. We used that as an opportunity to remind her to speak up, that she's the boss of her own body, and that fun things should be fun and not ouchy. While it was going on, I wasn't sure how she was enjoying it--but she tends to be serious in such situations, so I put it down to that. :( Anyway, I was able to loosen her hair a bit and she was fine for the rest of the day! And she LOVED getting makeup and used it all up at lunch, as you can see on the TwitPic page.

Ryan got a safari expeditioner outfit at the Animal Kingdom, and wore it to the Magic Kingdom the same day Morgan was Ariel. We went to the park in the afternoon, and then stayed for the Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party. It was fun, but expensive, because you have to buy extra tickets in order to stay. The parade was spooky and fascinating and Morgan waved enthusiastically at every scary and not-so-scary character that walked by!

I was pretty disappointed though, to discover that the only treats the kids could get were candy treats. I had been hoping for non-candy treats, such as stickers, temporary tattoos, little toys. It was one of those really hard food allergy situations. Part of the fun of this event is to get gobs (and I mean GOBS) of treats. I checked into it, and discovered that some of the candy was safe for us, and some was not. We allowed the kids to t-or-t at a couple of places on the condition that the candy would be inspected by us and they could eat it the next day. We ended up giving away about 4/5 of what they collected, which in a way is just fine. They really didn't need TONS of candy--which is why I was hoping for non-candy items, too! So they had a reasonable amount of candy, but during the party, trying to figure out what to do--that was not fun. I'm going to write to Disney to suggest they offer non-candy items as well as candy, because I'm sure many parents would go for that option, not just us food allergy parents.

Morgan met lots of Disney characters and was pretty damn cute about it, if I do say so myself! Ryan abstained--he just doesn't get into that kind of thing, never has (with the exception of The British Invasion, the Beatles cover band at EPCOT). Ryan enjoyed riding the "Peoplemover" train in Tomorrowland, which takes you under and next to the Space Mountain roller coaster. Except, Space Mountain is closed for refurbishment--to Ryan's fascination and delight! He got quite a kick out of seeing Disney Peopleguys working hard on some Space Mountain maintenance! :o)

For us grownups, we just enjoyed watching the kids get excited about different things, and of course, slogging through WDW with mounds of Stuff. (kidding) The first few days were super-hot, but then the weather was really nice for the rest of the week. We took turns with each kid, so we could experience each child's unique brand of Cute. The kids reconnected with my parents, my sister and her husband, and my brother. That was fun to see.

We spent most mornings at the pool of our resort (bliss!), and it was there that Sean learned one of his two new words: bubble ("bah-bo"). The other was balloon ("boo": not to be confused with the singular of booze). We got lots of sun and made lots of Vitamin D. :o) There weren't too many conflicts, which are inevitable with such a large group of opinionated people, and there were some funnies, too. I'll leave you with some of the Funny.

In the bathrooms at the parks, there was usually a low sink for kids. I LOVE it when places have those! While washing up one time, Ryan asked, "Why do they have these low sinks?" Me: "For kids, so they can reach." Ryan: "Well, I think it's for dwarves." Err? "No, really. They're for kids." "MOM, it's dwarves. I know it!" He got some LEGO castle stuff with Dwarves (like Gimli) and has become obsessed.

Upon seeing some bathroom graffiti (the downside to literacy, sigh), Ryan, interested in the unusual shapes of the letters, wondered aloud if it was French writing.

The Dumbo Ride Peopleguy reminded us all to fasten our seatbelts for our own safety. Morgan, who I didn't think was paying any attention at all, piped up with uncharacteristic volume: "Yes, that's because if you're way up high and you fall down low, then you will DIE!" Seeing the look on the face of the little boy next to us, I said "Oh, but that's not going to happen!" To which she replied cheerfully, "Well, it might!" ACK!

And that's all the time I have for a Disney wrap-up. Back to Real Life for a few more days, and then we will brave the friendly skies with our very verbal children on Thursday.