dark side of the moon

Today is my last day with Internet at the apartment. This week will be all about packing and getting up on out of here. I should be back up and running in about 2 weeks. I don't think that it has really hit me that we are leaving....

Happy 4th !

Aging well starts in womb, as mom's choices affect whole life

No pressure or anything....

And thanks to those biological signals, the choices that Williams makes today — by getting good prenatal care, eating nutrient-packed vegetables and avoiding alcohol, tobacco and caffeine — may help her baby long after birth, Hanson says. Research into the "developmental origins of adult disease" suggests that Williams' healthy living may help her child avoid problems such as cancer, heart disease, depression and diabetes not just in childhood, but 50 years from now.

R

I went and saw "The Taking of Phelm 1 2 3" today. It was a great movie. Well, compared to the other crap out there it was a great movie. I would recommend it. It was rated R and I went to the 6:45 showing.

Everything was going along just swimmingly until about 1 minute before the movie started. That is when the family showed up. With their children... young children. The little girl looked about 8 or 9 and the little boy was about 4 or 5.

I was dumbstruck. I have been to a bunch of PG-13 movies where people bring their 10 year old's. But I have never seen anyone walk a preschooler into an R movie. I felt so sad as I watched the movie.... knowing that this little precious boy was watching all the violence on the screen. It almost seemed like a form of child abuse.

I think since we have already have a whole pile of laws that tell me what I can and can't do as a parent (in the name of protecting my kid) I think we should pass one more. If you are under the age of 16 you are not allowed into an R rated movie PERIOD!!! A child should not be subjected to such images just because their parents don't give a shit. And if the movie ends up being so super-ly awesome and amazing that for some odd reason or another the child MUST see the movie... the parent still has the option of renting it and bringing it home with them.

Enough is enough. Since the government already has its hand in my cradle - why not just one more finger?

Mary Poppins

Braden and I watch Mary Poppins today. I had literally not seen that movie since I was a child. It is such an interesting experience when that happens. Your memory of the movie usually is quite different than what is really on the screen. The child's mind sees things differently.

It turns out that I remembered the movie quite well. I remembered the plot pretty well. I think as a kid most of the underlying themes went right over my head. The songs were pretty well filled with big, English and quite old fashion words. I couldn't remember if I had understood the lyrics as a kid and I was not sure that Braden understood any of it either.

At the beginning of the movie Mrs. Banks has just come home from a suffragette meeting/rally.... and she sings these words about the cause

"Our daughters daughters will adore us. And they'll sing in grateful chorus. Well done, sister suffragette"

Those words stuck with me. I kept wondering... are we grateful? Do we really understand what they sacrificed.... can we even imagine the world that they lived in?

Although Mrs. Banks is a fictional character... I felt bad while I watched her. Realizing that the situation between generations is a bit like the relationship between parents and their children. It is impossible to fully appreciate the gifts from one to the other. All we can do is learn not to squander what we have been given.

In the end the movie proved a bit long for Braden, but he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless. And like always my favorite part was the penguins in the chalk drawing.... even after all these years.

remember remember remember

From the Mother's Almanac:

...remember the more a person is told what to do, the more recalcitrant they grow. Dignity becomes so precious that your child will stall every request and say no to every order, even as they comply.

Ghost-B-Gone

About a week ago as I was tucking Braden in for the night he told me that he wanted the light on because he was afraid of the monsters and the ghosts.

Number 1: he can't have ANY sort of light in his room or he just stays up playing... even if it is a tiny night light. There were many a night I found him asleep, surrounded by toys curled up on the floor by the wall socket.

Number 2: Although he has said this in the past to stall and find a way to keep me in his room, that particular night he seemed to be serious.

It was kinda late, and I was rather tired. But out of the corner of my cluttered mind a line from one of my favorite books The Mother's Almanac. This book was the subject of one of my very first posts back in January of 2007. And it has probably been that long since I have read it. But in that moment I remembered some of its advice. That it is impossible to rationally argue with children that ghosts and monsters under their bed don't exist. You have to find some way of making them go away. I think they suggested doing the "monster B gone dance" - clap three times and jump in a circle - something like that.

I knew Braden wasn't going to buy that. So I told him I would go get the Monster and Ghost repellent. I explained it worked like mosquito repellent (which he is schooled in). As I walked from his room to go retrieve the spray it dawned on me that I had to think of something pretty quick. I couldn't use any bottle he would recognize or then the jig would be up. No glass cleaner or bug spray or perfume or Fabreez...etc etc.

Halfway down the hall I remembered I had a medium sized glass bottle of fancy room and sheet spray my friend Melanie gave me years ago... I had been saving it for special occasions... well, three years later the bottle was still full...

It had a plain label with hardly any writing. It was under the bathroom sink.

It worked light a charm. I was/am the hero. Every night now after prayers and song I spray the Monster and Ghost repellent. Under, over and to the sides of the bed. Under the dresser and bookcase, one squirt behind the reading chair and FOUR in the closet... because that is their source.

The Caped Crusader, Hand brakes, and Dumpster Diving

Today Braden turns 6. Technically we still have about 2 hours until that happens...

We celebrated earlier today.

Last night in the sweltering heat, waiting for the AC repair guy to show up we decorated. This was the first year that I got any mileage out of my gift bags. Since I made them last year for Braden's 5th birthday I have used them a handful of times for random occasions... my dad's birthday, Mason's birthday, Father's Day etc etc.

I also re-hung my Chinese lanterns that I use as balloons... 3rd birthday to do that...

But I did buy a Hot wheel paper table cloth at the party store... I couldn't really find my way out of that.

Braden woke up at the crack of dawn. I tried to get him to lay next to me quietly - to no avail....

Pancakes (with some bacon on the side) then the presents. Braden learned quickly that the ones wrapped in paper were from Grandma and Grandpa... and exceedingly better than the ones from mom.

Even though it was a Hotwheel birthday - it was a Batman birthday too! He loved the costume we got him and the deploy-able wings courtesy of G& G. He got a Batman action figure and the batmobile and all that junk. He got some books, a Guess Who game some Leapster video games.... and the bike.

We saved the bike until last. We waited well into the morning before we Skyped G&G for the big reveal. We made him close his eyes, we wheeled it in from the back porch... the whole bit. Without skipping a beat and with zero inflection or excitement in his voice he states "oh, it's a bike." It was downhill from there.

There were a few things that I had not taken into account beforehand. First being that the bike was bigger and HEAVIER than his last. Trying to push it while walking along side the thing proved to be frustrating. The bikes seat was a billion times longer than the last, so every time he tried to get off he would stumble on one leg and fall off. He kept trying to pedal while clutching the handbrake... and he did not put his whole weight on his feet to pedal... and so they kept slipping off.

After some tears and some fussing we called it a day and packed ourselves into the car to go pick up the cake.... which he had picked out earlier in the week.

I thought it looked hideous.... but he loved it.

For lunch we went to Red Robin... for burgers and fries... requested by B. The minute we sat down Braden announced to the waitress that it was his birthday. So at the end of the meal we got the clapping and the singing and a free sundae. To which Braden again announced that he had always seen the clapping and singing and never had it done to him.... he was beaming!

Back home. We light candles, we sing, everyone is too full to eat the cake. So, while Nana puts T down for a nap we head out the door to go see Night at the Museum. It was between that or UP... and I thought he would find the former funnier.... remembering how much he seemed to like the (few, brief moments) of the original.

I had low expectations for the movie but really ended up liking it. No peeing jokes was a step up. Braden seemed to tolerate it, but didn't seem to love it either. Mason's favorite part was the air conditioning.... so what does that tell you.

We picked up pizza on the way home. And tried practicing again with the new bike, with our sneakers... which seamed to help a bit. Back inside Braden takes to the floor to play with all his new toys.

"Hey mama? I think there are supposed to be things that shoot of of the gun." Braden says to me across the room. I was hoping that he wouldn't notice. Earlier when I had taken the toy out of its box I noticed two skinny little long red things. Thinking that they would just get lost in the first day or so, or the move I didn't even bother taking them out of the packaging. By the time Braden noticed they were missing Mason had already taken the trash to the dumpster.

So guess where I ended my day to day. YUP... precariously balancing in and on the huge dumpster down the way from the apartment. I am happy to report that the little red skinny plastic sticks were recovered and the birthday was saved!!!

Guess what Tristan Likes to Watch...

I wasn't going to write about it....

But I guess I am now.

Last night as we watched the news about Michael Jackson, I was transfixed. It wasn't until this morning that I understood why.

I like Michael Jackson's music. A lot. The early stuff with his brothers, the stuff everyone loves from Off the Wall to Thriller. The stuff some people like - such as Bad and Dangerous (it ain't too much to Jam!) and I even liked a few of his songs from that last album... Invincible.

I love his message. We are the World - Make it a better place..... Man in the Mirror.... Black and White etc etc etc... you all know the drill.

But this morning (after downloading and burning a disc of a whole bunch of his music) I felt uncomfortable listening to it.

At first it was great... bobbing my head to Rockin' Robin.... and jammin' to Dancin' Machine... but then something started coming over me.

Sadness. Sadness for him, for his childhood of enduring his abusive father and an exploited music industry. Then I felt sad for the children he hurt.

He was a man that turned into a caricature of a character he played on the stage. And his delusion and sickness forced the spiral down further.

Just looking at his pictures.... to witness the self-mutilation from plastic surgery. To see him with "his" children looking panicked and neurotic.

Those images are burned into me. How can I enjoy the music when the man who created it is filled with sickness and sadness.

This afternoon I have been cleaning the house. I turned on MTV U (whatever that means) and for the past few hours they have been playing MJ music videos. All of them, uncut. Did you know the video for BAD was directed by Martin Scorsese?

I recognized all the songs. All of them. I watched the vintage news footage from the past 40 years. I have to add exploitation from the public to the list. I realize that it wasn't just 1 thing that turned MJ a bit nuts... it was a lot of things. Least of all the crazy nut job fans and (I am sure) the 'yes-men' he had surrounded himself with for years. Money does make the world go round.

So as I dust and vacuum I listen to the music, and the tributes and (yes) the bad acting before the videos get into full swing and I feel conflicted, And in the end I am not sure where I will fall on the LOVE/HATE MK debate. If I like him, than am I excusing his behavior, if I hate him then I am losing out on the music....

what NOT to do

Don't watch hours of the news reports of Michael Jackson's death right before you go to bed. It is not really the most pleasant thing to occupy your dreams at night - all night long.

Expectations - by Melody Beattie

Most of us have expectations. We entertain certain notions, on some level of consciousness about how we hope things will turn out or how we want people to behave. But it is better to relinquish expectations, so we can detach. It is better to refrain from forcing our expectations on others or refrain from trying to control the outcome of events since doing so causes problems and is usually impossible anyway. So where do we go with our expectations?

Some people strive to relinquish all expectations and live moment to moment. That is admirable. But I think the important idea here is to take responsibility for our expectations, Get them out into the light Examine them. Talk about them. If they involve other people talk to the people involved.Find out if they have similar expectations. See if they are realistic. For example. expecting healthily behaviour from unhealthy people is futile; expecting different results from the same behaviors is insane. Let go. See how things turn out. Let things happen - without forcing. If we are constantly disappointed, we may have a problem to solve - either with ourselves, another person or a situation.

Expectations are only expectations and they belong to us, and we are not always the boss. We can make sure our expectations are realistic and appropriate and not let them interfere with reality or let them spoil a good time.