PDAs in School

My son gave me a hug today. It’s not that we don’t hug – we do. We’re a hugging family. But it was unexpected because it – the hug – occurred at M-ito’s school.

These days when I drop him off at school, which is only one day a week as the norm, he presents me with the top of his head, tenses his shoulders as if it will be painful, then let’s me kiss him goodbye in the hall to the common room where his schoolmates await him.I places his hand up in front of me like a crossing guard to say, “Here no further.” It’s written all over him. Here no further, please.

But today I worked from the Starbucks near his school so I could take him in and Mom-ita could work out of the house (as a mom she’s always working in the house). I came back after two hours for the first day of Hannaka celebration. M-ito was supposed to light one of the candles of the minora along with a group of his Jewish classmates at their weekly assembly. I was so proud of him. He saw me in the audience and waved a small wave along with a smile. Then after it was all over and the rest of the kids had gone except for his grade, he ran over to me to give me a gave me a big hug.

I’m still smiling.

Follow-up to Poop, Pee, and Destruction

I told M-ito he couldn’t sing the Barney song anymore. We went to lay badmitton at the park and were resting in the sun after an hour of swatting birdies at each other, most of the time missing and laughing. No more stabbing, or cutting off heads, or crushing the purple dinosaur in song. He took it with a nod of his head. Okay.

Mom-ita added on the banning of the Monkey song – which went something like this: I had to pee. I couldn’t find a tree. So I peed on a monkey and the monkey cursed me. She said this in the car a few hours later. He argued it a little but gave in quickly. Mom-ita’s word is law.

My idea of just letting the two boys get this out of their systems in the first five minutes of the car ride just didn’t feel right. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. But not in execution. You got to trust your gut. Some of their wordplay I do find funny (a problem in and of itself). I’m a sucker for toilet humor and slapstick. Still it doesn’t feel right to hear it come for 7 and 8 year olds. So much of a 7 year old’s world is about these kinds of things. Violent slapstick can be funny. Toilet humor always big for belly laughs. But when is it okay for them to repeat it or make it up themselves? My gut told me to stop it. Mom-ita took action way before I’d taken mine. That moment in the car brought me up to speed. No more monkey song. Now the decision is easy. In order to stay in line with what Mom-ita has decreed (No toilet humor or violence) I’ll just say no. I can’t wait to try this out this week when I drive M-ito to school. Gulp. Oh the trials of fatherhood.

Rush Hour

It came in like a spring wind. A small black playing board with plastic cars, trucks and busses on it – and an ice cream truck – for whom the whole purpose of the game was to get it unstuck from a traffic jam. The game was called Rush Hour and it had been months since M-ito brought it out of his room to play. What I liked about the game – a traffic jam puzzle - was that it was portable (ie: fit in my bag of tricks backpack), that I could play too (the expert level games where indeed challenging), and that, well, the game looked cool. For one week last year it was all M-ito played, everywhere we went. Then he’d had enough and moved on to another game. Rush Hour became obsolete. 

Yesterday I pulled it out, because M-ito had mentioned it while talking about iphone games and he reminded us how much he liked the Rush Hour game. Excited, I brought it to coffee this morning, on the last day of school, and two of M-ito’s friends enjoyed playing it while they waited with the adults for their party to start. I started giving them hints and then had to stop myself because they were enjoying themselves without me. After the festivities were over and we were again home, I asked M-ito if he wanted to play. 

“No,” was all he said.

“But,” I began.

“No, Dad-dito, I don’t like that game anymore.”

My mouth hung open and I caught some flies for a few moments. 

But I’m not done with the game yet, I said to myself. I still want to play.

The problem is I like games, a great quality for a Dad-dito to have. It means when Candyland comes out, I play. The same goes for Star Wars Monopoly, Operation, Zooreka, and Zooloretto. And I like all kinds of games, including card games and board games. I don’t mind losing to M-ito most of the time (I have to win every once in a while just to keep him honest), reading the instructions to new games, explaining the rules to him, and looking for new games he might (and I might) like. And M-ito likes games too – he loves them, but he usually loves a game for anywhere from one day to a few months. Then the love affair is over. And I’m left with a hankering to play a game without a partner. 

But I’m not done yet.

So it goes.

Walk the Walk

Maybe you’ve seen this too. A parent, usually a father walking in front of his child sometimes a few feet, sometimes ten feet or more, and the child is walking behind. The man doesn’t look back to check on the child (I’ve seen it with boys and girls). The child rushes to catch up then falls behind because his legs are too short and he can’t keep up.

Yesterday I saw it twice. Once on a main street and once on a side street. On the main street it was a small boy, maybe five, who was huffing and puffing, running then walking, then running then walking, trying to catch his father. The father didn’t look down or back even once. Not even to yell, “Come on!” He just walked, crossed streets, shouldered his way through crowds, and the child tagged along behind. I guess he had things on his mind.

The second one I saw was an older girl, maybe 8, in school dress running to catch up to her father then stopping for a moment to look at flowers then running to catch up and walk beside him. He also did not look down or check on her. He was lost in his own world and seemed to have forgotten her. The look on her face was heartbreaking as she looked up at him when she was next to him, tried to get his attention, then gave up.

I walk too fast for my son sometimes but I have to turn and stop when he’s out of my peripheral vision and say, “Come on, keep up, we’re late. Gotta keep going. Hurry!” I’ve got a collection of sayings I use to try and spur him forward. Sometimes I just say, “Let’s race!” And it never ceases to amaze me how fast he can run when he wants to. But usually I try and tell myself to slow down. Even if he’s walking one step away from slow motion. Stay at his pace, I tell myself. It’ll be better for both of us – even if I’m late to a meeting or appointment. Even if I’m late. I never let him out of my sight, I mean never. Okay, maybe four or five times in my life with M-ito I have lost track of him either at the park or once in Disney Land (I hate those crowds). At the park kids or parents blocked my view and I had to rush over to find M-ito because he moved over ten feet in those few moments to play with some other kids. Four or five times and each one practically gave me a heart attack. Walking ahead of my son and not even looking at him? Not knowing where he is? I can see being so angry at him that I’d want to do that – say, “If you don’t hurry up I’m going to leave you  here.” Then try to walk ten steps to see if he follows. But I could never go any further. I don’t want to. The whole time I’d ask myself, “What are you doing? This is s-t-o-o-p-i-d.” I’d just be doing it as another attempt to get him to move – a little, perhaps faster, perhaps just out the door. Oh the games we play with our children.

But, to walk and not look back. To not even seem to care?

Know Your Pokeman

When Star Wars was in (which it was for the last six months) M-ito knew all of the character’s names, each of the episodes story lines from beginning to end (each that we allowed him to watch) which is what comes from watching them 1 or 2 dozen times each, and had memorized all the key lines for major and minor characters. He also loves Legos and his knowledge of each of the models he built added to his reference base. He carried the Legos characters into school each day so they could play with them together. He had, amongst his peers, a mastery of the subject and so, on the playground during recess, he was in with the boys.

The shift to playing more with boys occurred with the rise of Star Wars when school started back in September. Then about a week or two ago – we’re not sure exactly how long but it’s about that long – a change occurred. Pokeman took over and M-ito’s knowledge base of Pokeman is very very low.

The girls are, “playing games I don’t want to play,” he told us when we asked.

The boys – some of whom have older brothers who were weened on Pokeman – had mastery. They didn’t allow M-ito to play with them. “You don’t know them (the characters) well enough so you can’t play,” they said to him. My son is smart and is a leader in his class. For the first time with this group he found himself outside of the social circle. He’s been playing by himself all week during what used to be his favorite subject – recess. We could tell, he was crushed.

Mom-ita, of course figured this out quickly and came up with a solution. She brought him to ToyRus today and they bought some Pokeman action figures. They came home and M-ito showed me Chatot and Palkia and I could see his face light up. The three of us looked on the internet for Pokeman resources and Mom-ita found a site with descriptions of each of the characters he had bought. In case you didn’t know there is a collectible card game a collectible figure game, and over ten years of gaming history to wade through. It was not easy to find, but Mom-ita persisted.

M-ito now knows each of his character’s type, and special powers, size, weight, and height. Mom-ita also made sure our son bought one character that he knew no other boy had. He will go into school tomorrow with knowledge, and power, and a backpack full of Pokeman action figures. My guess is the water dragon Palkia will be in the mix.  The boys who played with him when they were all into Star Wars must now let him in to the land of Pokeman. The look on my sons face is heartbreaking.

I never would have figured out how to help him. I was stuck unable to see why anyone would not want to play with my son. I just couldn’t get past that. My wife is amazing. To her it’s not rocket science. It’s simply knowing our son.

Dinos in a Galaxy Far Far Away

“Dadidito, I don’t like dinosaurs so much anymore.” It was an innocent comment made while we were walking to school one morning in the freezing cold. “I like Star Wars more.” We’d been going through three months plus of Star Wars movies and Legos models and books and questions like, “Is Star Wars real? Are Jedi’s real? Is there such a thing as the force?”

My answers, in order, “Could be. Could be. And I like to think so.” All followed up with, “Remember. It’s in a galaxy far, far away.” 

M-ito usually nods at that as if it explained everything. For once I don’t elaborate. Mom-ita watches me sometimes when M-ito asks me questions like this and just laughs when I go into a big big explanation when all M-ito wants is a simple answer. It reminds me of an old joke. A young boy goes up to his father and asks, “Where did I come from?” And the father sighs and says to himself, “I knew this was coming.” So he gets out a thick health text book with and flip charts of the human body with anatomically correct parts and starts to describe the whole process of reproduction. Half an hour later, when he’s finished, he looks at his son and asks, “Did I answer your question?” And his son says, “I thought I was born in Brooklyn.”

So hearing my son say he didn’t like dinosaurs (getting back to the dinos) my heart sank into the floor. I had seen this coming since the summer and fall as he’d switched gears from claw and tooth to light saber  and the the force – my son was moving on. I nodded while we walked in the cold, our cheeks red and our noses frozen. And so the dinosaurs became extinct. Or so I thought. 

Two weeks later we’re at the doctors – M-to’s, not ours – for his annual check-up. The doctor asks him, “Do you still like dinosaurs?” And he tells her without hesitation, “I still want to be a paleontologist.” 

She smiles at him and says, “Oh, good. I’m glad you still like them.”

M-ito looks at me and Mom-ita, both of us slightly surprised, a little confused, and quite possible a little relieved.

Who knows. There are probably dinosaurs in a galaxy far far away.

Dad-dito Job Description…

Things that Dads do that are not on the job description:

• Get into a sweltering car first, put on the air conditioner while Mom-ita and M-ito wait for the car to cool off before they enter.
• Test the shower water/bath water first to make sure it’s just the right temperature for your child.
• Go out into the rain to get the car, without the only umbrella so Mom-ita and M-ito can use it.
• Give your son your favorite hat (the one on your head) to wear when it’s cold outside and it’s too far to go back to get another one. 
• Take the stairs up five flights to your apartment carrying your own bag, your son’s bag, your son’s art project, his coat and scarf, the hat you gave him earlier in the day, and the mail, just because your son says, “Let’s take the stairs?”
• Let your son use your shirt, pants leg, and or coat sleeve, for boogers, wet hands, runny nose, food covered mouth, or got milk smile.
• Let your son throw-up into your favorite hat because there’s nothing else available.

Do Unto Otters

Do unto Otters: A book About Manners, by Laurie Keller has been our guide this month in behavior change. It’s a variation on the golden rule “Do unto Otters as you would have Otters do unto you.” So says owl when Rabbit asks him about his new neighbors, the Otters, and his concerns about how they will get along.

The first week of school is always stressful but this year has been even more so. And M-ito’s behavior at home has not been up to par. M-ito has told us that he always follows rules of good manners in school, but not when we’re home. This made us pause and think. Why would this be? We’ve always said he has to have good manners with everybody. Bad manners in this case seemed to go along with starting school – the same thing happened last year. We think it’s because he tries so hard to “be good” in school that when he comes home he lets loose. This means grumpy, sullen, dismissive, quiet, yelling. Perhaps this is all school age kids when they are finished with school.

Now we know all kids are tired after school – it’s a long day – but yelling, tantrums, attitude, and non-responsiveness in tidal wave proportions is a bit much. So we had another sit-down with M-ito after a huge fight about not wanting to take a shower – ever. We’re down to two days a week at this point but that’s as low as we’ll go. Stinky-boy can not rule all the time. So these are the rules and regulations we came up with, together, after a morning of fighting, a day of Mom-ita and me feeling terrible because of the fight we had, and en evening of calm:

• listen to each other (no hands covering ears, no turning away when someones talking to him)
• no flicking fingers or dismissive waves of the hand
• say please, excuse me, and thank you (loud enough so the other person hears it, and it only counts if it sounds like it’s meant!)
• take a shower without complaints or delays when asked to (consequence of not doing so is taking a bath!)
• put dishes away after each meal
• help set the table for meals
• put toys away after playing with them
• no hitting (already in place but good to have on the list as a reminder!)

We’ve had three days of peace since posting the list. M-ito seems to have found his bearings and our stomachs are all feeling more settled, school-wise and home-wise.

Recess Stress – 1st Grade

Two kids left the playground needing ice-packs. One had a nose bleed. Another child was bonked on the head – all within a week at the playground at school. M-ito’s reasons for not wanting to go to school have gotten more complicated. Mom-ita talked to the other mothers and found out at least four others didn’t want to go to school either. They all had stomach aches. It seems the 2nd graders were playing a bit too rough and the 1st graders were lost in the chaos. I believe the game that put my son and his friends off was called Jail. Why are children allowed to play so rough at school? Why aren’t teachers doing something about this? Does is seem normal to have these kinds of injuries? Or to have children not want to go to school because they are afraid of getting hurt?

Mom-ita took charge of things while I was traveling in Pennsylvania and Reno. She organized the other mothers and talked to the teacher about the stress and the fear of recess. Several talks later, meetings with the lower school head and the headmaster of the school and the teachers seem to have taken care of this. The 1st grade has recess now with the kindergarten and the 2nd grade has been spoken to. M-ito and his friends no longer have stomach aches.

The power of a coordinated group of parents (read mothers) is a wonderful thing to behold. All these little fires to attend to this year and we’re only three weeks in so far. Mom-ita says it’s good, though, because M-ito’s teacher is very responsive and I’m glad. The homework seems to have gotten toned down too.

Whew.

Parenting Lessons

There’s a lot we can learn from Gerbils as parents:

• When a toddler goes exploring too far from home simply track her down, pick her up in your mouth, and carry her back to the nest.
• If you take the padding away from an exit tube your children, even with their eyes closed, will sense the drop, turn around and go back to their nest.
• Some children are daredevils and take the drop anyway. These you have to chase down, pick up in your mouth, and carry back home.
• If all else fails simply block the entrance/exit to the nest with your body and don’t let any of your nine children leave.
• Take turns watching the kids so each parent gets a break.
• Sleep together in a family bed – it’s warmer that way but you can wake up with a paw in your face.
• Breastfeed while you sleep.
• Eat a lot of sunflower seeds.