Dreams

One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite songs is "I dreamed about Ray Charles last night. He could see just fine."

I didn't dream about Ray Charles last night.

I dreamed we had two new people at our next youth group meeting (which was, as dreams are sometimes, wonky in several aspects unimportant to the actual dream). That's a bonus, A-plus thing. I was excited. The new kids were a boy and a girl, the girl sitting at the table and the boy playing catch across the room. Because there are just two boys who regularly attend the meetings usually, I was even more excited to see the guy, but I sat down to talk to the girl.

Then I noticed the baby carrier at her feet.

Yeah. We didn't just gain two new youth group members, we gained three: mom, dad, and baby. I asked her if they were from around here. She said they were both students the main local high school (and married)--which explains why the other kids were ... "elsewhere" in the room watching to see my reaction before they committed to this scenario.

And I woke up.

I woke with thoughts tumbling all around: Would I do the right thing? Would the girl and the rest of the group notice my unsureness, my shock (notice that I assumed the boy wouldn't?)? Were the other leader group leader and Beast going to freak? Where did these kids come from? Why did they just suddenly turn up at youth group--not so much because of "the situation," more what was the context of two unknown people appearing? Underlying it all was the sense of "Well, here's a new challenge, God. Always looking out for those, aren't You? Thanks!"

The worst part of this is that as I'm writing this, I'm already missing these kids, these people I don't even know. I'm worrying about them, and weeping.

{thump} Head meets wall

Mood: amused
Hair: braided
Eyes: dry and itchy
Listening to: silence (and guinea pig squeaks)(and the fridge humming)

So.

Sparky had homework over his break from school. Nothing major, just a little research, finding some resources for a paper to be done at a later date. He did the research on the Saturday between the holidays, and created his bibliography for the teacher and saved it.

This morning, as part of the launch sequence, I asked him if he had the printout. "Oh, I never printed it. Thanks for reminding me!" {eyeroll} He accessed the document and tried to print it and then shut the laptop. I didn't hear the printer start so I asked fairly innocuously, "All set?"

"No. I forgot; Dad hasn't set up this computer to print so it won't go."

And that's it. We have three other computers that ARE ready to print. WTF! "You could email it to yourself on one of the others and print it from there," says I, fairly calmly. "Are you seriously just going to quit trying without even asking for help?"

I logged off the laptop I was using and went to get ready to leave while he took care of this. He came upstairs 10 minutes later to tell me it didn't work because the settings aren't set up to access email on the new computer. Huh? He accesses his email all the time from that one! Turns out, he was in the word processor trying to send the document. I assumed he knew I meant to go into Gmail and attach the document to an email to himself. Sigh.

On the good-ish side, he found his thumb drive and saved it there. Did he print it from another computer then?

No. (of course not!)

"I'll do it at school, from one of the computers there."

OK, yeah. He'd just got through telling me that he couldn't take both his band instruments today because he wouldn't have enough time to drop them in the bandroom before classes began. Which would have been no problem if he would have accepted my freely given offer of a ride to school at the very beginning of the morning's conversation. I'll be headed there anyway to volunteer for a couple of hours, so it's not like it would have been a big deal.

He doesn't have a study hall, so I really don't know when he'll have time to do this printing. Especially since the doc isn't a Word doc, and that's what the school uses.

Plan ahead much, kid?

What a DORK.

---

No word today. I'm too stunned by the stupid.

Breastfeeding

So, there's this insane controversy on Facebook that has erupted into the mainstream media. It seems that Facebook has yanked photos that were posted on profiles because those photos show women breastfeeding babies. This somehow violates their policies about ... uh? ... nudity or something. Or it is upsetting to ... someone. I thought it was just crazy, uneducated, sexually frustrated individuals who--in this relatively new millenia--were freaked out by public breastfeeding and photos of it, but I've just read a blog post by someone whom I respect which completely floored me.

I started a lengthy ocmment on his--note pronoun for irony purposes--website, but it got very soapboxish. So I'm posting the comment here instead. The comment I did leave was brief, courteous, and (I hope) non-inflammatory. For contextual purposes, one of the arguments he makes is quoted below, because I refer to it in my response:

It doesn’t have to be a matter of being a prude; imagine the woman who has lost a baby, or the woman who has suffered breast cancer. While I can’t imagine being in either position, I can imagine that seeing the image of a newborn breastfeeding might be a little torturous for any woman who has gone through either situation.

My heated reply:

For me, I think the issue is that you can see plenty of breasts on Fb, but the only ones being banned are the ones doing what they are made to do. So, Fb will let a photo of a woman or girl in a VERY low-cut top stay (unless someone reports it), but a photo that shows less breast but has a baby feeding is pulled. Yeah. That's perfectly sensible.

Perhaps if people (ahem, men) saw breasts doing what they are designed for they'd stop being so freakin' wound up about seeing breasts exhibited as artwork.

Have you seen any of the photos these women posted? I don't think there are any that are even remotely sexual in nature, not that I've looked at them all. Nor have I seen any in which what you call "the whole breast" is visible. And frankly, I can randomly pull up several Fb profiles with WAY more revealing photos than these. Do I care? No, because I don't look at, much less 'friend', people who post those sorts of pictures. That way I don't have to look at their retardo exhibitionism.

However, I have a friend who has an amazing photo of herself feeding her baby: it's a candid and one of the best pictures of her I've seen. I don't think she's on Fb, but I'm sure no one could be offended by it.

Women have been fighting this uphill battle for more than 'just' this year. I was called all sorts of names on the occasions when I nursed my son when he was a baby 16 years ago. My sisters, ditto, 20-30 years ago. We weren't flaunting, we had blankets over our shoulders, and yet people (ahem, men mostly) were horribly rude about it. Had we parading through the room wearing a low-cut blouse, I doubt they'd have complained at all, though.

I do have a relative who recently gave birth to a stillborn baby. The merest sight of babies is painful. Yes, seeing a photo of a breastfeeding baby is painful, but so is seeing happy parents playing with their newborn. This particular argument is straight-up bizarre. Seeing older men sometimes upsets me because my father is dead; should photos of old men be banned from Fb? Come on.

As for those people (not just women) suffering from, or recovering from, breast cancer...do you really think this is any more painful than seeing ads for Victoria's Secret? Really? Should those be banned? (well, actually...I'd be OK with that...)

Speaking as a mom, and a feminist, I will tell you that babies get hungry on their own schedule. To a degree you can plan ahead, but sometimes they will start fussing when you are in a public place. I would much prefer finding a quiet corner and a comfortable chair over sitting on a toilet or the floor in a public restroom. If someone took a photo of me that was a good picture, I'd cherish it.

I do think that perhaps you're being very disingenous. To the best of my knowledge you've never had a baby in your life full-time much less had the opportunity to breastfeed. For that I'm very sorry. I think you're viewpoint might change were you a little closer to the situation in your own life.

In other words, you know not whereof you speak, so perhaps you ought to take it down a notch.

OK, yeah, I'm cranky. Blame David Caruso and today's CSI:Miami marathon.

Link

Show-and-Tell

Hey, folks, I have a real question for all you actual and would-be Reference librarians.

What is another way of saying "Show and Tell", the kind that kids do at school? No snarky commentary on what we adults have done to the concept since second grade.

The Library of Congress does not use this as a "legal" subject heading (except in s.h. for children). So what the heck are we supposed to use instead? I can't think of anything except "school presentations" but that's not really right (and it's not legal anyway).

This is so basic that I know I'm not the first cataloger to wonder how to handle this. However, no one I've asked can come up with anything really useful, and then we got into the corruption of the word "sharing" in this context....

[And now those of you who wonder what I do all day know the truth about just how BORING my job can be sometimes. Not to mention PICKY!]

Things teenagers say

Mood: tired and verging on cranky, but not quite there...yet
Hair: I think it looks good, but I haven't checked since this morning, 12 hours ago. The front is pulled up in a barrette at the crown.
Eyes: tired
Listening to: commercials (we're waiting for Survivor to start)

[FYI: if you don't use Facebook, much of the first paragraph will sound rather bizarre...hang in there.]
So, I was at church yesterday doing the usual homework thing with the youth group. I finished what I was doing on the Mac there and decided to check Facebook for any updates. I was visiting a friend's page and leaving a note on his wall, right next to his profile picture. A couple of the kids happened to glance over just then and the following discussion took place:

"Whoooo's THAT!?" says Ika. Braids chimes in, "Yeah, who's he??" They both hop off their chairs and walk over behind me.

"He's a guy who used to work at the library [very part time, as a consultant]," I reply, looking at his photo a little more closely than I had up to that point.

"Ohhhh, so he's OLD?" Braids says, and Ika starts to move back to the table.

"He's...uh, birthday is...." I realize that he was born at the end of my junior year of high school. Holy crap! "I could be his mom! Never realized that till now!"

"Wow!!! OOOOLLLDDDDD!!" Ika says, as she turns back to her calculus book. Braids just crosses the room, nodding.

He's 11 or 12 years older than they are. And I always had him in the Very Young category of people I know.

I guess it totally depends on perspective.

[Yes, I shared this story with him. Hey, it's a compliment, even if it was followed by 100% smackdown. And they are pretty discriminating girls in the Boys + Looks area.]

Otherwise, today = deadly boring.

---

WordSpy Word:

adorkable : adj.Delightful and charming in a socially awkward way. [Blend of adorable and dork.]

I have adorkable friends.

Oh, for REAL?!

This may be the nadir of the internet, and the reason bloggers sometimes get a lot of flak.

Also, kids skateboarding on the roof of our library?

And gang signs in our street? I just came in from talking to the cop who came and took photos, but I think the reason for the grafitti is more of a 'vote' for Ghostface Killah, than a gang sign. However: hot red/pink spray paint?


Really??

Important Message

Last week was an exciting week for Sparky. This is from the School District from their online posting. We also received it, in slightly different form, as a paper note home from school:

Important Message for [high school] Families and Students
Th!s m0rn!ng at ab0ut 10:30 a.m., we d!sc0vered the f0ll0w!ng message 0n the wall 0f the f!rst fl00r b0y’s restr00m: “B0mb 0ff 0n Fr!day”. The p0l!ce were called and !mmed!ately began an !ndepth !nvest!gat!0n and a th0r0ugh search 0f the bu!ld!ng.

We are tak!ng th!s threat very ser!0usly and are w0rk!ng cl0sely w!th the [C!ty] P0l!ce Department t0 !nvest!gate the c!rcumstances and s0urce 0f the message. Wh!le threats 0f th!s nature are bec0m!ng m0re and m0re c0mm0n !n area h!gh sch00ls, we n0ne-the-less want t0 take all necessary measures t0 assure a safe and secure env!r0nment. T0 that end, there w!ll be a full p0l!ce presence at the sch00l b0th t0m0rr0w and Fr!day. Please welc0me them as they are there f0r every0ne’s benef!t.

After careful d!scuss!0ns w!th the p0l!ce, the dec!s!0n has been made that [the school] w!ll f0ll0w a n0rmal schedule f0r classes and act!v!t!es 0n b0th Thursday and Fr!day. We w!ll use th!s webs!te and 0ur aut0mated ph0ne call!ng system t0 keep y0u !nf0rmed 0f any further devel0pments.

Thank y0u f0r y0ur understand!ng and c00perat!0n.

[C.T.], Pr!nc!pal

The classes on Friday were at less than 75% capacity. Nothing happened, except for having lots of cops in the halls. A senior was arrested on Thursday. He's 18, and as such will be tried as an adult. Mentally, he seems to be 2--and no, he wasn't going to set off a bomb: he's apparently got a history of doing asshatted things like this, he was PO'd about something to do with Prom, or so runs the scuttlebutt.

And so far this week, the middle schools have had to go to "alert" because the same thing has happened there. This is nuts. I'm all for reinstating stocks and rotten vegetables in the center of town. Beast prefers the concept of a toothbrush and giant dirty tile floor.

Kudos

Today has been such a godawful day that I need to redeem some of it by remembering that it's only been two days since a really awesome experience.

I received this by email on Sunday afternoon:

[Cat], [Beast] & [Redneck Guy],

WOW!!!!

What a wonderful job the kids did today leading worship.

Thanks—to a great group of young people, and to you three for providing the leadership that assists in creating such meaningful experiences.

Please pass on to the kids my appreciation and thanks.

[Vel.] [D.]

It was immediately followed by this:

Dear [Youth Group] Leaders and Members:

Your service today was incredibly moving. Thank you for the beautiful, disturbing, shocking, in our face messages. After 35 years of working to try to improve the lives of children and families, I have been despairing of late because the State and other government agencies that fund my agency and agencies like ours have been decreasing support for children's services --- to the point where I wonder sometimes if we can keep [the agency] open for business without some miracle. I pray every night and throughout every day that God will send us the resources we need to continue operating and that He will give me the strength and wisdom to know what to do to see that we can be there for children and young people like yourselves.

Your skit and your service made me hopeful – hopeful because you in [the group] appear to be on the safe track to adulthood and hopeful that your message to "Get involved/Stay involved" was heard by the members of our congregation loud and clear. It truly does take a village to raise a child and all of us need to do whatever we can to make the path to adulthood safe for our children. As you know from your research, FAR too many children in our own country lose their way and ALTOGETHER too many children in the world are in the same trouble PLUS there are children who are starving, disease ridden, threatened by war and violence, slavery and abuse all over the world. It seems like a big challenge to make a difference, but how can any of us not try?

Thank you again for this powerful message. I think you could and should take this show on the road!

With Love in Christ,
[S.] [K.]

Today, this arrived from the pastor as a tag on an email about something completely unrelated and which also went to our Presbytery's Clerk:

P.S. [Cat], the youth service Sunday was outstanding! I have heard more buzz about it than any youth service I have experienced. WELL DONE!!! [Pastor P.]

Finally, from another individual:

Dear [Youth Group]

I am writing to congratulate you and to thank you for such an awesome Youth Sunday! The skit you presented was very meaningful and, in fact, moved me to tears.

Your acting was VERY professional—you remained in character at all times and obviously put your hearts into it.

The information you presented at the end was very effective in reinforcing the message of the skit and I know it hit home with a lot of people.

Thank you so much for your hard work; this was definitely a Five Star presentation.

Sincerely,

[B.] [E.]

Mind you, all of these people have sat through decades of Youth Sundays that were moving in different ways. I will probably--at least temporarily--post a link to the video once we get it online. I just couldn't wait to post the kudos though. I couldn't be prouder of these kids, and I'm so grateful that the whole congregation got a chance to see how blessed we are to have them in our midst.

Poetry Month

The Tale of Custard the Dragon
by Ogden Nash

Belinda lived in a little white house,
With a little black kitten and a little gray mouse,
And a little yellow dog and a little red wagon,
And a realio, trulio, little pet dragon.

Now the name of the little black kitten was Ink,
And the little gray mouse, she called hum Blink,
And the little yellow dog was sharp as Mustard,
But the dragon was a coward, and she called him Custard.

Custard the dragon had big sharp teeth,
And spikes on top of him and scales underneath,
Mouth like a fireplace, chimney for a nose,
And realio, trulio daggers on his toes.

Belinda was as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chased lions down the stairs,
Mustard was as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard cried for a nice safe cage.

Belinda tickled him, she tickled him unmerciful,
Ink, Blink and Mustard, they rudely called him Percival,
They all sat laughing in the little red wagon
At the realio, trulio, cowardly dragon.

Belinda giggled till she shook the house,
and Blink said Weeck! which is giggling for a mouse,
Ink and Mustard rudely asked his age,
When Custard cried for a nice safe cage.

Suddenly, suddenly they heard a nasty sound,
And Mustard growled, and they all looked around.
Meowch! cried Ink, and Ooh! cried Belinda,
For there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.

Pistol in his left hand, pistol in his right,
And he held in his teeth a cutlass bright,
His beard was black, one leg was wood;
It was clear that the pirate meant no good.

Belinda paled, and she cried Help! Help!
But Mustard fled with a terrified yelp,
Ink trickled down to the bottom of the household,
And little mouse Blink strategically mouseholed.

But up jumped Custard snorting like an engine,
Clashed his tail like irons in a dungeon,
With a clatter and a clank and a jangling squirm,
He went at the pirate like a robin at a worm.

The pirate gaped at Belinda's dragon,
And gulped some grog from his pocket flagon,
He fired two bullets, but they didn't hit,
And Custard gobbled him, every bit.

Belinda embraced him, Mustard licked him,
No one mourned for his pirate victim.
Ink and Blink in glee did gyrate
Around the dragon that ate the pirate.

But presently up spoke little dog Mustard,
I'd been twice as brave if I hadn't been flustered.
And up spoke Ink and up spoke Blink,
We'd have been three times as brave, we think,
And Custard said, I quite agree
That everybody is braver than me.

Belinda still lives in her little white house,
With her little black kitten and her little gray mouse,
And her little yellow dog and her little red wagon,
And her realio, trulio little pet dragon.

Belinda is as brave as a barrel full of bears,
And Ink and Blink chase lions down the stairs,
Mustard is as brave as a tiger in a rage,
But Custard keeps crying for a nice safe cage.

Custard is the ur-Opus? I love him regardless. At least some fo the reason is that I can always hear my dad's voice reciting this.

OMGROFLBBQ

Been there:

Putting the "pub" in "public"

Mood: Good, but tired beyond belief
Hair: Braided, inwards
Eyes: Fabu
Listening to: Some commercial or another

Today was one of those truly bizarre days that everyone who has dealt with public service has experienced, but only public librarians will 'get' in all it's hallucinogenic permutations.

As I've told a couple of people, it was all about kids (relatives of staff), dogs, perverts, drunks...and crack(s). I got to hold a toddler, talk seriously with a 4-year-old, coo over a baby, pet a dog--our regular visitor--interpret a patron's poor English well enough to try to find the other dood looking and 'nude women' on the computer, stare down a crack that reveled the Grand Canyon (eeewwww....shudder), and listen to Crazy Cat Lady and Schedule Nazi ramble on and on and on. LOTS of email, much of it bizarre. A tempest in a teacup (because it's not a Friday without some stupid thing involving CT!). Realization that I have a Cataloging meeting next week and no agenda. Two funny ADHD kids who managed to crack me up while proving that I may have ADD tendencies of my own.

So I came home to a large glass of wine, spaghetti, and the creation of the following list for this weekend:

• Talk to Sparky about grades
• Meet with mentee
• Call James and Alan & Katherine
• Tidy kitchen
• Run Roomba
• Clean all bathrooms
• Dust
• Figure out cost/kid for mission trip
• Watch Sarah Connor Chronicles and Survivor
• Go to Sam's Club
• Pick up Sparky's new glasses
• Vacuum stairs
• Talk about Rx changes (insurance)
• Work on car(s) (Beast)
• Look over Sparky's homework and help as necessary
• Write letters to Mr. K's sister-in-law and Dean
• Draft letter for church seniors
• Draft job description for youth leaders
• Clean up and email Session minutes
• Put together April newsletter article
• Update next week's calendar to include meetings
• Call Ryan
• Clean up spare room
• Talk to Beast about Kyle's letter
• Laundry
[updated 3/9, 8 a.m.]

I got a letter today from a relative of my growing-up next-door neighbor with whom I've exchanged Christmas cards, along with his wife until she died a few years ago. OK, that's a nightmare of a sentence. Anyway, Mr. K died last August after a fall and a broken hip. They are sending out letters to everyone who has written him since his death, and are just getting through the Christmas cards, apparently. He was in his mid-90s, I think, and one of the nicest men I ever knew. Sigh.

OK, I'm off to be bored.

For clarity's sake

An extract, for your reading pleasure, from the Usborne website dedicated to "A Surprise for Princess Ellie" (that damnable PINK one pictured in my previous post). My comments are in block parens:

CHAPTER ONE

"Good girl," [oh, goodie, the horse is female too] said Princess Ellie, as she cantered Moonbeam [eyeroll] towards the last jump. The palomino pony eyed the wooden poles warily and tried to swerve away. But Ellie was ready for her. She [the horse?] kept a firm hold on the reins [oh, "she" in this sentence is not "her" in the previous sentence...] and pushed the pony on with her legs. Moonbeam did as she was told. She leaped forward and cleared the jump easily. Ellie galloped between the finishing posts and pulled her pony to a halt. Then she turned round to see how the others were getting on. She was just in time to watch her best friend soar over the wooden poles on Rainbow [FUCK me!]. Kate's jumping had improved enormously since she came to live with her gran, the palace cook [cooks are good jumpers? hmmm]. Perhaps that was because of all the practice she had on Ellie's ponies [oh, well, better than riding her Gran around anyway]. Prince John was further back, riding Sundance [forehead smack]. The chestnut pony jumped over a fallen tree trunk and cantered down the hill towards the last obstacle. Then he pricked his ears forward, lifted his front legs [lifting the back legs would be wholly different] and bounded over it. Prince John grinned broadly. It was hard to tell which of them was enjoying themselves most, as they galloped through the finishing line. "That was brilliant," said John, as they rode slowly back towards the stables. "I'm going to ask my father to build a cross-country course in the grounds of our palace – but I'm sure mine will be longer." "Of course it will," sighed Ellie. She really liked John. He was the only royal person she knew who shared her love of ponies. But he did have an annoying habit of insisting everything was bigger and better at his home in Andirovia. Kate leaned forward and patted Rainbow's grey neck ["Rainbow" is...grey? OMG]. "I'm not surprised you want one," she said. "Cross-country's much more exciting than jumping in the paddock."

"But even that's not as exciting as a real adventure," [Horse-jumping as adventure? Uh, really?] said John. "Do you remember how we went hunting for ghosts last time I came to stay?" "I was really scared," [chicken!] said Ellie. "So was I," agreed Kate. [henceforth to be known as The Agreeable Friend] "But it was still fun," [translation: "scaring girls is fun, and they enjoy it anyway"] laughed John. "What are we going to look for this time?" The girls stared at him blankly [...as girls do most of the time, y'know]. "Well, aren't there any mysterious legends about your palace? What about tales of hidden treasure?"

"I've never heard any," said Ellie.

"Dragon's eggs?" asked John.

"Now you're being silly," giggled Kate. [The Agreeable, Giggly Friend]

"How about a secret passage, then?" suggested John. "All the best palaces have one of those. Our one at home is brilliant." [It has an IQ of 183!]

"But that's not secret," Ellie declared with delight. "It can't be if you know about it." [Well, she's not as dumb as all that] At that moment, they reached the lane that led to the palace stables. A bay pony whinnied loudly and cantered across the nearby field to meet them. She was larger than the ponies they were riding, and the long hair that nearly hid her hooves made her look like a miniature carthorse. She skidded to a halt beside the fence and put her head over the top rail.

"This is Starlight," [it seems obvious that all these horses were named by 4-year-olds] explained Ellie, as Moonbeam sniffed noses with the bay pony. "Do you like her?" [We've got the sun, moon, stars and rainbows covered...all's we need is rain and lightning...and something like midnight or night-time...]

"She's [no male ponies allowed!!] lovely," said John. It was the first time he had come to stay since Starlight arrived, so he hadn't met her before. "She looks much better than she did in that photo you e-mailed to me." Ellie smiled proudly. [uh...is she proud of her mad emailing skilz or the fact that she can't take a decent photo, or maybe because the horse hasn't died yet?] "I'd only just found her then. She'd been living wild for so long that she looked really neglected." [And I'm sure you are the Angel of Mercy who has been nursing her back to health every day] "She doesn't any more," said John. He twisted a finger thoughtfully in Sundance's chestnut mane and added, "She's quite fat now." [words every girl, including a girl horse, loves to hear]

"No, she's not," said Ellie, indignantly. “She's just well built. [big-boned] Ponies like her have big bones." [yup, I told ya] She turned Moonbeam firmly away from the fence and led the way towards the stables. "You don't have to be thin to be beautiful." [...but it helps, girls, it helps. Don't forget: boys notice this stuff!]

There was a long, awkward pause. Then Kate [The Agreeable, Giggly Peacemaker] broke the silence by saying, "Wasn't Ellie clever to catch Starlight?" [Oh, yeah, it's clearly a sign that she should join Mensa] She looked wistful for a moment and added, "I wish I could find a pony." "So do I," [uh, what's wrong with the one you are SITTING ON?!] said John. "I'd like a palomino, like Moonbeam." [OK, everyone in the bus--we're headed to the Lost Pony Store, where you can all pick your favorite color Lost Pony! Pending availability....]

"Copycat!" cried Ellie.

"No, I'm not," said John. "My palomino would be bigger than yours." [Boys are, after all, ONLY about size!]

"Then it wouldn't be like Moonbeam, would it," [see, different sizes mean different breeds...] Ellie declared. "Anyway, you don't need another pony. You've got two already." She'd seen plenty of pictures of the beautiful, chestnut mares he'd left behind in Andirovia. "Why shouldn't I have three?" argued John. "You already had Sundance, Moonbeam, Rainbow and Shadow [yup, had to know it was coming] when you got Starlight. That's five." He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. "Anyway, there's no point arguing about it. My father already thinks I spend too much time riding. [not manly enough] There's no way he'd buy me another pony." "My dad won't get me a pony at all," added Kate, very quietly. ["The last pony, Mom cut up and made into stew. It was delicious, but I missed riding the pony."] The sadness in her voice made Ellie feel guilty. It was mean of her to argue with John about how many ponies they had, when Kate didn't even have one. Ellie was happy to share her ponies with her best friend, but she knew that wasn't the same. Kate desperately wanted a pony of her own. If only there was something Ellie could do to help. [Something tells me there IS something she can do! Quick, go get the book and read Chapter Two]

Next week, I'll take the first few pages of Eragon and deal with them, just to be fair.

......sigh........

Some people can't be trusted. I wish I could remember this. I am, however, slowly learning that I can and should say no when people ask me to add more to my activities. Especially when the people asking assure me they'll help out, and they are people who have abused my trust in the past.

But enough about that.

Sparky is going on a date tomorrow. Technically, he's going to a movie with a friend who is a girl, but he wants it to be a date, so...does that make it a date? She says it's not a date, and he says it's not a date, but he doesn't sound convinced (and he's going to, uh, 'Hairspray' so that pushes it DIRECTLY into "date movie" territory as far as I can tell).

He had a simply wonderful time at Homecoming last night.
He
even
DANCED.
Slow and fast.

I'm loving watching him gain confidence. When he spins into a fan blade, it's going to suck, but right now it's all good.

Tonight was three hours' worth of youth group. Beast and I are tired. I spent a LOT of time at church today, some of it quite fraught. But these kids do tend to bring out good feelings in me. I also got more physical exercise tonight than I have in probably 3 months. I ran, if you can believe it! My legs are guaranteed to hurt tomorrow.

Beast is feeling "ill" tonight, the beginnings of a terrible case of 16-hour flu. I think he's hoping the tortilla chips he's noshing on with cure what ails him. Hah.

The Pack is stomping on the collective face of the Bears. Life is pretty good right now. As long as I don't really engage my brain and think about any specific individuals.... So I think I'll just take a bath and go to bed.

Newspapers

There is (yet another) local kid story in the news all week. This time it's not our own community but a nearby, larger city. It also happens to be the city in which the local daily paper is published, and that means it's getting lots of play in the news.

Here's the short version of what has been pieced together and told to the media. Earlier this week a mom who has been in a custody battle for some period of time with the dad of her school-age daughter (...do you see where this is going...?) apparently suffocated her child and then killed herself. The suicide method is a particularly chickenshit method (IMNSHO) that essentially involves getting someone else to do the actual killing for her. When the police went to the mom's house to let her family know of her death--which was quite public--her father had just arrived home from work. When he and the police went to check on his granddaughter, she was in bed, ostensibly asleep.

I just found in this morning's RSS feed that she frequented a restaurant in which I'm sure I've seen her: mother and child were there nearly every day for an extended period of time. I don't go there that often--their bread is VERY good, but pricey--but the last couple of times I've noticed a cute blonde girl coloring or reading while her mom looked at the papers.

This is why I don't read the newspapers. What's worse about the online articles is that people are free to comment on stories. Most of the comments are a) stupid, b) ridiculously 20/20 hindsight-y, and/or c) downright mean-spirited.

And in the back of my mind, I'm wondering if this little girl had been black or Hispanic, would her death have been getting front page coverage all week....

Oh, so cynical. And so sad.

Teenagers are funny

I'm driving home from work today, past the Catholic church/school around the corner from the library, and talking on the phone. Cuz I suck. But that's another post.

There's a teenage boy, maybe 15-ish, standing in the other lane of traffic (coming-toward-me lane). When he sees me about a block away, he walks futher toward the middle of the road...

...and as I narrow the distance between us, he raises his hand in the classic "Traffic Cop Stop" pose. I slow down, and start making incomprehensible noise into the phone (which is ok, because I just woke Beast up and he's incomprehensible too). I roll to a stop. What's going on?

The kid looks toward the doorway of the school. I follow his eyes toward the doorway, and see more kids in the shadows there. Suddenly one of the shadows breaks free, turning into a kid on a skateboard who flies out of the clump of his friends, past the kid in the street, and into the grass on the verge on my side of the street.

I look back at the traffic cop. He looks seriously at his friend for a minute--checking his overall well-being, then catches my eye...and beckons me to go on.

I flip the phone closed, let out the clutch and ease forward, and start laughing.

Awesome!

Parenting

I've just done a meme elsewhere on parenting. After writing a long post-meme comment on my original post, and then reading other things other people have written in response to the meme questions, I'm beginning to wonder what the hell is going on here.

On the other hand, I'm extraordinarily grateful for several things:

1) Great parenting mentors.

2) I'm not old enough (yet) that I'm saying "Kids these days..." or "Back when I was a kid, things were different, by God!" Or, rather, if I do say those things, I am usually saying things like "We were pure hellions, and kids nowadays are just the same as ever."

3) Sparky is/was an easy-to-raise child most of the time. He wasn't ADHD, LD, ED, BD, sickly, mental, emotional, or name-your-problem.

4) My friends, parents or non-parents, rock. Thank you for your support, those of you who are online, and a general prayer of thanks to the ones offline has been issued to the Universe at Large.

Trust me: my parents were strict. Our friends' parents were strict. We respected our elders on penalty of pain and humiliation. Apparently, I'm the only person who remembers things like this from my family's storybook :

1) [I mention this in my meme] My sister being tied to a pole as punishment for walking to grandma's house without telling anyone. The plan was for a full day; Mom untied her at lunchtime. My sister was three. THIS IS GOOD PARENTING, from the olden days??

2) Another sister went through the garbage one day, found several pill bottles that had been thrown away with pills still inside, and proceeded to dose the neighborhood kids with the outdated drugs.

3) My brother tried to burn down our neighbors' house. Or maybe our house. Anyway, he was caught by our neighbor trying to start a fire between the two houses. The same neighbor who gave all the girls in our family expensive Christmas presents while ignoring him. Because they didn't like boys. That's why they never had kids of their own: they might (gasp!) end up with a son.

4) Every kid in 6th grade in my town lived in terror at the end of the school year--for DECADES--of being scrubbed by the 7th graders. Hazing much? And, after at least two decades, couldn't someone in the school administration have attended to this? My sister was in 6th grade in 1954; I was in 6th grade in 1975. We share this memory.

5) Playing Frisbee across our street was a favored game for my brother and his friends. They consistently tried to scoot the Frisbee under, off of, and THROUGH cars driving by.

And kids today are so horrible? Kids today have no discipline?

Do you know how many times I had comments made to me while shopping because my son was either crying (usually a result of my unwillingness to buy him junk), or because he had stepped in front of someone, or because he was laughing loudly?? If I had left the store immediately on each occasion--and there were times when I did leave the store, abandoning a full cart at least once--we would have never had groceries. Or clothes. Or...well, anything.

Kids, young kids especially, cry. They are noisy. They are impatient, self-centered, emotional little bundles of energy. They somehow manage to move at the speed of light and yet stand perfectly still at inopportune moments. They get hurt, they get annoyed, they are frustrated. And guess what?

Nevermind, you'll never guess what.

WE ALL USED TO BE KIDS!! Yep, even those of you who achieved sainthood as adults, you used to be kids. And I'll bet your angelic mother and wonderful father wanted to murder you (or themselves) at least a couple of times a month. Get over your perfection and get over the neat, tidy little shell you've built around your life.

Kids are messy (unlike we tidy adults), and don't always follow directions (unlike us conscientious adults), sometimes they are just frickin' ANNOYING (also unlike us perfect-in-every-way adults). Get-the-fuck-over-it.

Without kids, we die as a species. There's no other way around it. Kids are the chaos theory of the universe. They are also a joy to be around, beautifully open to anything happening, aware of the amazing things all around them in a way adults have forgotten, and just COOL.

Yes, it's no fun to be around screaming, out-of-control kids, I'll grant you that. Can ya'll perfect people just spare a half-second to be grateful you don't have to go home with those demons everyday, and/or feel a little empathy with the exhausted people who DO have to go home with them, whether they want to or not? In ten minutes, your perfect controlled environment will be back to normal and you can pretend the noise and mess never happened, since you're already living in some sort of weird fantasy that you know best about a subject you are apparently unable to actually tackle yourself. Kinda like George Bush and the military....

/rant

Grandchildren

Sparky was asked recently--by someone else, not me--about growing up, getting married, and having kids of his own. With each subject, his enthusiasm waned. Noticeably. The "kids" question barely raised a response at all. I haven't been spending hours dwelling on this, believe me. He's fourteen and seemingly terrified at the thought of dating at this point.

This morning, however, in the midst of a long IM session with someone--on topics that ranged nowhere near this particular one--it suddenly dawned on me what part of the problem might be with him and having his own kids.

Beast and I need to talk to him about Nathanael. It would also be really helpful if someone else close to us (i.e., him) were to become pregnant and deliver a healthy child in a relatively normal fashion. Someone we could visit in the hospital so he could see mom and baby (and dad) doing fine and looking sweet and adorable. The hospital part is key.

The follow-up to that idea is that I can literally think of NO ONE of childbearing age that he knows who a) should be getting pregnant (please, no one in his class at school!), or b) wants to have kids in- or outside of marriage.

Bummer. Just really: bum-mer

Home

...as in, "We are home."

We are also beyond tired. Five straight nights of post-midnight bedtimes (hah!) and pre-7 a.m. wake-up calls, over 50 teenagers, and some amazingly incompetent youth leaders, no air-conditioning in our sleeping quarters, and a lot of tears (mostly good ones).... It's good to be home ready to sleep the sleep of the just in our own beds (knowing first-hand how extraordinarily lucky we all are).

Synopsis (please wander through the sites I've linked to; they are wonderful organizations doing worthwhile, amazing, creative, and necessary work):

My group worked at Mary's Place. The picture of the playroom showed where most of our work took place, but we also played outside on the playground, and in the Children's Center and Teen Center. The sister on the right in the photo on that page, Sister Nesta, is the Mother of the house, and she is absolutely amazing. So, of course, are all the children: Lana, Lakisha, Tanisha, Tanea, Josh, Craig, Jaderea, Briantia, Arielle, Trevor (whom we think has diabetes, thought his parents are clueless), Kailani, Lily, Asiyah, Adam, Colin....

Beast's group worked all over the city. They were at Salvation Army, The Fallout, and Catholic Charities over the course of the week. While my group spent the days playing with kids and giving out hugs, these guys spent the week actually WORKING and loved almost every minute of it (the downer was a disorganized coordinator at one site that kept them away from working for too long).

Both of our groups went in with open hearts and minds and did they ever get filled up again and again. We told all the kids repeatedly that we could see them "getting it" more every day. We are both really proud of them. We were, as far as I'm concerned, with the Cool Kids, the ones who were there for the right reasons, and rarely (if ever) had to be 'corrected.'

Yesterday we shopped at Mall of America (I'm not linking). It was fun, but exhausting and very wrenching after the previous four days.

However, I'm looking forward to a long night of sleep tonight, in a bed...in MY bed! With a/c blowing on me. And NO WAKE-UP CALL! :-)

Props to the kids

This was in this morning's paper, about Sparky's class:

The 8th grade class at [N] Middle School could have just whined and moaned when they found that their trip to the [city water park & pool] was canceled because of poor weather, but instead they used the opportunity to help people in need.

They decided to give their money for the pool outing to victims of the apartment fire in [town] May 29 that left 36 people homeless. Giving the money to charity wasn’t their only option. They also had the choice of using the money for a pizza party.

"The students overwhelming thought it was a great idea," said [Sparky's math teacher, Mr. C]... who suggested the idea. "There was next to no debate about it."

[A classmate of Sparky's] ... said he was impressed about how passionate his peers were about the idea.

"Everyone was really enthusiastic, which surprised me because I thought everyone would be bummed about not being able to go to the pool," [he] said. "They made the best out of a not so great situation."

[Mr. C] said that once the students decided to give the money to the ... fire victims, they discussed how fires have affected their lives and loved ones. The topic especially is close to [Mr. C's] heart because he lost his grandfather in a house fire.

The money that the students already gave for the field trip, combined with extra money the students and school staff members pitched in, came to a total of about $520, [Mr. C] said.

"Certainly money will never replace life or memories, but it can provide some of the necessities like clothing and food," [Mr. C] said.

Ironically, the eighth-grade class in [the school] usually does some type of charity work every year, but the class was unable to do such a project this year because of time constraints.

"I guess it was just meant to be," [Mr. C] said.

Omitting my commentary of my own, I'll only add that this is a stellar thing to do. Yeah, Mr. C for suggesting it! And hurrah for (most of) the kids for agreeing.

Bad math = bad future

Q: When do 18 and 15 add up to a permanent criminal record?

A: When those two ages have sex.

It's also not good to be caught in mid-act by a member of the library staff, who then asks for ID.

I'm just sayin'....

Talk about a cold shower.