She's a Real Mother

Mutha's got eyes in the back of her head.

Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Scout THIS!

My younger son wants to be a Cub Scout.

You would think any parent would be excited and proud. But no -- pinkos that we are, my husband and I were immediately unsure and then came the actual first "pack" meeting. That was when the concerns really began to flow.

It makes me wonder what Cub Scout Leaders think when a parent asks if his child has to march with the war veterans in the town Memorial Day parade. Couldn't the kids be separate from the soldiers? Well sir, this is the Scouts. I also wonder what it feels like to wear a neckerchief in your 40's.

I wonder what my son thought when I asked him if he felt like doing the oath each meeting. When he shrugged, I pointed out that, for instance, there was a bit about God. "That's cool," he told me. "I believe in God." I do too -- and again, most parents would smile warmly at their little angel. I crinkled my brow and worried that the whole "Law of the Pack" thing sounded too much like the Hitler Youth.

But who are we to put a cramp in his little scout-heart? Off he goes to cook-outs, go-cart derbies, sleep-overs, and Christmas toy drives. God bless him and God bless America. He can learn a sense of social questioning and healthy cynicism right here in the bosom of his family. No uniform required.

This is post is dedicated to my sweet Sheila, who got out of the Tower six years ago today.

Thursday, September 06, 2007

The Terrible Twos Conspiracy

In my opinion two-year-olds get a bad rap. Two-year-olds are trippy little strange beings that can be fun to watch. They play with things like pretzels and barrettes. They like to be naked. They have no problem dancing in a supermarket aisle. They make up words and say them with conviction, giving you the dick-face when you don't understand what they are saying. They insist on being called names other than their own. Their heads are too big for their bodies.
So why the rep? I believe that Terrible Twos thing was started by a three-year-old to cover up the real truth -- that Threes are the ones to look out for.
Three year olds tend to be in a bad mood most of the time. They do not want to be treated like babies -- but they are not yet a "kid." They want to run with the big cats, but they may still have trouble making it to the toilet in time. They want to engage in the rough and touble fast paced life of the kindergartener -- and yet they may still have a blanky that must be produced imidiately with the day goes sour.
I was recently staying with family and had the great good fortune to get well-acquainted with a three-year-old I am related to by blood. He is a funny guy, smart, curious, and not in the mood to hear anything even close to "no" -- ever. In fact, when I did tell him to stop doing something, he looked at me with one of the most pissed off expressions I have ever seen on a human face. He turned on his heel, began to exit, but then decided to turn to me again and yelled, "I'M GONNA TELL MY MOMMY AND YOU'RE GONNA BE IN BIG TROUBLE!!!"
When his mother told him that I was his auntie and must be obeyed, he refused to come out and talk to me again. For the rest of the day, he would side-ways glance at me and then give me the cold shoulder. Such is the life of a three-year-old. It is hell.
But don't get me wrong. I found him beyond adorable. I wanted to eat up his feistiness with a spoon. Three or not -- I love the feisty ones. And that, my friends, explains a lot.