I love Jack's comfort and confidence. I know it will likely diminish as he starts being more aware of his peers and their judgement of him. The desire to avoid ridicule and embarrassment will create inhibitions. I can see it starting already.
But for now he will run straight into his classroom and start telling elephant jokes. He'll freely walk up to kids he doesn't know and ask them to play with him. He tries new things and is eager to learn.
This really struck me tonight. When I arrived home Jack and Ryker announced that tonight we would be having a dance party. Jack was preparing some ropes, although I still have no idea what purpose they served. Ryker had a damp washcloth and was cleaning the surfaces of Jack's room in preparation. Finally it was time - Jack turned off the light and turned on the music. We've had a number of these parties already, and I know my place. He doesn't want ME to actually dance. He prefers I sit on his bed and watch HIM dance. This time I added some value by putting on a light show with his flashlight. I can't tell you how great it is to watch him in these parties. He literally closes his eyes and just moves to the music. It's fantastic. He looks totally peaceful. I LOVE it. I want him to always feel that freedom.
Ryker, for his part, has a healthy ego and self-confidence as well. I went into his room to say goodnight tonight, post-dance party and post-bedtime stories with Dad. I patted his head and rubbed his back. I told him I loved him. Then Tugboat came in. Ryker said "Tuhboh come in here. Tuhboh yuv me. Evybody yuv me." True.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Basketball Rules of Engagement
There is a certain order and rhythm to street ball. Most gyms and playgrounds have similar rules, and everyone follows them. When people are waiting to play, they automatically get in the next game. If there are more than the necessary amount of players waiting for the next game, everyone shoots and the first players to make it earn the right to play. If your team loses, you're off the court. If there is a dispute, you shoot for it. You call your own fouls, and you don't call many of them.
There's also a certain amount of respect. At the end of most pick-up games, everyone congratulates each other and high-fives or fist-bumps or whatever. Even if you're bad.
It's comforting, knowing the rules and how to operate within them.
But there is something that is also consistently found, and flies in the face of the usual respectfulness of the basketball rules of engagement. Sexism. I've dealt with it my whole life, and yet it still unnerves me. I step into a gym and, unless I know all the guys, there is a fair amount of staring. When it's time for the next game, and I make my shot to get in the game, there is almost always someone who goes "I'm on YOUR team?" and looks like someone just stole their puppy. If it's time for people to pick who they'll defend, I'm ALWAYS the last one chosen. No one wants to guard me - they think they can't be physical or it won't be a challenge.
Last week I stood waiting for a game and there were enough of us that we could run 5s (play 5 on 5) so the guys who were also waiting were trying to decide if we should do that. One guy was standing right next to me, and he goes "yeah, but then someone would have to pick up the girl" and he motions at me. I just stared at him, and he didn't make any attempt to back track, or even acknowledge me.
In another game, one of the guys that was on my team refused to pass me the ball the entire first game we played together. He wouldn't inbound it to me, wouldn't pass to me in the half court, wouldn't let me bring the ball up the court. Nothing. I was laughing out loud, and considered walking off the court. But I WANTED to play. So I stayed, and decided to kill him with kindness. If someone else passed me the ball and I didn't have a shot, I passed to him EVERY SINGLE TIME. I was cracking myself up. Our team kept winning, and I guess I played well enough to earn his respect. By the end he had made up affectionate nicknames for me and was screaming at me to shoot every time I touched the ball.
It's SO annoying to have to prove myself like that, for no other reason than my gender. At some point I will have played with all of the guys that play at my gym, and then I won't have to go through that every time, I guess. Or at least I hope so. And some of the guys are now sticking up for me when they hear someone else bad-mouthing "the girl." Good for them.
There's also a certain amount of respect. At the end of most pick-up games, everyone congratulates each other and high-fives or fist-bumps or whatever. Even if you're bad.
It's comforting, knowing the rules and how to operate within them.
But there is something that is also consistently found, and flies in the face of the usual respectfulness of the basketball rules of engagement. Sexism. I've dealt with it my whole life, and yet it still unnerves me. I step into a gym and, unless I know all the guys, there is a fair amount of staring. When it's time for the next game, and I make my shot to get in the game, there is almost always someone who goes "I'm on YOUR team?" and looks like someone just stole their puppy. If it's time for people to pick who they'll defend, I'm ALWAYS the last one chosen. No one wants to guard me - they think they can't be physical or it won't be a challenge.
Last week I stood waiting for a game and there were enough of us that we could run 5s (play 5 on 5) so the guys who were also waiting were trying to decide if we should do that. One guy was standing right next to me, and he goes "yeah, but then someone would have to pick up the girl" and he motions at me. I just stared at him, and he didn't make any attempt to back track, or even acknowledge me.
In another game, one of the guys that was on my team refused to pass me the ball the entire first game we played together. He wouldn't inbound it to me, wouldn't pass to me in the half court, wouldn't let me bring the ball up the court. Nothing. I was laughing out loud, and considered walking off the court. But I WANTED to play. So I stayed, and decided to kill him with kindness. If someone else passed me the ball and I didn't have a shot, I passed to him EVERY SINGLE TIME. I was cracking myself up. Our team kept winning, and I guess I played well enough to earn his respect. By the end he had made up affectionate nicknames for me and was screaming at me to shoot every time I touched the ball.
It's SO annoying to have to prove myself like that, for no other reason than my gender. At some point I will have played with all of the guys that play at my gym, and then I won't have to go through that every time, I guess. Or at least I hope so. And some of the guys are now sticking up for me when they hear someone else bad-mouthing "the girl." Good for them.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Talking to Kids about MLK
Every year I find myself blogging about this, but every year I continue to be fascinated by it. I'm dragging you all along for the ride.
We talk about social justice a lot in our house. It's a topic I'm very passionate about and if I impart nothing else to my children, I want them to have a clear understanding of what is right and wrong.
Sunday night Jack and I watched the "I have a dream" speech. He sat for 16 minutes staring at the screen and sucking his thumb. I tried my best to paraphrase during periods of extended applause, but it's a lot to explain.
Last night as we drove home from school, I asked Jack how he liked the speech. "Good," he said. Then I asked if he understood it. "Not really."
I went into a long rant, one of about 145 that he has had to endure over his five years. It went something like this:
Me: "....See, Dr. King believed that everyone should be treated equally, regardless of what color their skin was."
Jack: "Why were people not treated the same?"
M: "Because the history in our country had been to treat people with brown skin differently, and like they weren't as good as people with peach skin."
J: "Why?"
M: "Well, that goes back a long way. Back to way early-on in our country's history. We had lots of hard work to do on our farms, so we brought people over from Africa and made them do the work."
J: "And we paid them?"
M: "No, we didn't pay them. And we were REALLY mean to them. But then Abraham Lincoln came along and decided that we were being really mean to those people, so he set the slaves free. That's the good thing we remember him for." (admittedly watered down)
J: "So why weren't they equal then?"
M: "Well, because we had laws that said that even though there weren't slaves anymore, African Americans weren't equal to white people."
Ryker: "We go to neighbors' house?"
M: "No Ryker, we're not going to the neighbors' house. They are all sick. Anyway Jack, that is why Martin Luther King had to work so hard. He believed those laws should go away, that we should have new laws that said that everyone would be treated the same. He worked very hard for that."
J: "Harder than Abraham Lincoln?"
M: "Ummm, good question. No, I wouldn't say he worked harder than Abe Lincoln. They each accomplished a lot."
R: "We eat dinnuh?"
M: "Yes Ryk, we'll eat dinner."
J: "Well why did they shoot him?"
M: "Because .... yes, Ryker, we'll eat dinner, I promise .... because they were afraid of ...."
R: interrupting "BUS!!!!!!!!! BIG BUS!!!!!!!! MOMMA YOOKIT! BIG BUS!!!!!!!!!!!!"
M: "...yes Ryker, that's a big bus. I see it! Anyway Jack, because that man was afraid of what Dr. King was doing, and thought that if he killed him, all black people would lose the hope that Dr. King was giving them all, and that they would stop fighting for their rights....yes Ryker, I did see the bus. It was nice."
R: "Hope? Why?"
M: not sure what the question was, but pleased that Ryk was entering our grown-up conversation "He helped people believe that things would get better for them. He gave them HOPE."
R: "Oh. Okay."
J: "I wish I had been there. I would have put up a big metal thing to stop the bullet. Or I would have crawled REALLY QUIETLY up and taken the gun from him. But I wouldn't have shot him."
Then the conversation was over and he had moved on to whining about why he HAD to eat SPAGHETTI instead of waffles. The brain of a five year old.
We talk about social justice a lot in our house. It's a topic I'm very passionate about and if I impart nothing else to my children, I want them to have a clear understanding of what is right and wrong.
Sunday night Jack and I watched the "I have a dream" speech. He sat for 16 minutes staring at the screen and sucking his thumb. I tried my best to paraphrase during periods of extended applause, but it's a lot to explain.
Last night as we drove home from school, I asked Jack how he liked the speech. "Good," he said. Then I asked if he understood it. "Not really."
I went into a long rant, one of about 145 that he has had to endure over his five years. It went something like this:
Me: "....See, Dr. King believed that everyone should be treated equally, regardless of what color their skin was."
Jack: "Why were people not treated the same?"
M: "Because the history in our country had been to treat people with brown skin differently, and like they weren't as good as people with peach skin."
J: "Why?"
M: "Well, that goes back a long way. Back to way early-on in our country's history. We had lots of hard work to do on our farms, so we brought people over from Africa and made them do the work."
J: "And we paid them?"
M: "No, we didn't pay them. And we were REALLY mean to them. But then Abraham Lincoln came along and decided that we were being really mean to those people, so he set the slaves free. That's the good thing we remember him for." (admittedly watered down)
J: "So why weren't they equal then?"
M: "Well, because we had laws that said that even though there weren't slaves anymore, African Americans weren't equal to white people."
Ryker: "We go to neighbors' house?"
M: "No Ryker, we're not going to the neighbors' house. They are all sick. Anyway Jack, that is why Martin Luther King had to work so hard. He believed those laws should go away, that we should have new laws that said that everyone would be treated the same. He worked very hard for that."
J: "Harder than Abraham Lincoln?"
M: "Ummm, good question. No, I wouldn't say he worked harder than Abe Lincoln. They each accomplished a lot."
R: "We eat dinnuh?"
M: "Yes Ryk, we'll eat dinner."
J: "Well why did they shoot him?"
M: "Because .... yes, Ryker, we'll eat dinner, I promise .... because they were afraid of ...."
R: interrupting "BUS!!!!!!!!! BIG BUS!!!!!!!! MOMMA YOOKIT! BIG BUS!!!!!!!!!!!!"
M: "...yes Ryker, that's a big bus. I see it! Anyway Jack, because that man was afraid of what Dr. King was doing, and thought that if he killed him, all black people would lose the hope that Dr. King was giving them all, and that they would stop fighting for their rights....yes Ryker, I did see the bus. It was nice."
R: "Hope? Why?"
M: not sure what the question was, but pleased that Ryk was entering our grown-up conversation "He helped people believe that things would get better for them. He gave them HOPE."
R: "Oh. Okay."
J: "I wish I had been there. I would have put up a big metal thing to stop the bullet. Or I would have crawled REALLY QUIETLY up and taken the gun from him. But I wouldn't have shot him."
Then the conversation was over and he had moved on to whining about why he HAD to eat SPAGHETTI instead of waffles. The brain of a five year old.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Addition and Subtraction
The whole "every action has an equal and opposite reaction" thing apparently applies to my theory on cleaning. We had to bring many things INTO the house after the holidays, so I have spent two weekends furiously purging us of other things to make room. It's not a bad way to run things, actually.
The biggest addition was a bunkbed for Jack. It's mine from high school (yes, I had a bunk bed in high school). We brought it back from StL and set it up today. Here's my tiny boy in his new big boy bed.
His room is SO cluttered around it, but in time we'll be able to move some of his stuff to Ryker's room. Jack swears Ryk is moving in with him after he's done with his crib ("when he's weddy"), so maybe we'll end up with an open room. And he's ecstatic about it. They both are, actually. The addition of the bunkbed also brought with it the addition of 18 new gray hairs on my head as I cycle through images of children toppling off the top bunk. (Knock on wood.)
We had a ton of toys come into our possession as well. And THAT is why I started purging. My accomplice last weekend (my mom) took the kids to lunch and out shopping (for groceries, not more stuff) and I sprinted around the house throwing broken toys away. I will donate the good ones that just aren't used anymore. And here's the best part - the ones we're keeping are now in the basement! God Bless basements! The kids' rec room is shaping up nicely, and now has a Wii with Mario Kart, which happens to be a BLAST to play with Jack. I also cleaned the entire fridge - every shelf came out, got Cloroxed, and went back in. That was all last weekend.
This weekend was no less tidy. I removed all of the Christmas decorations, cleaned the entire kitchen and entryway, reorganized our entry closet, and cleaned the work station upstairs. That last one about killed Chuck and me last night. Took me two glasses of wine and Chuck about three beers to keep motivated. Stacks and stacks of paper. I found the new insurance cards though, so that's a plus.
Anyway, I'm exhausted. But as I tended to the stacks of paper and piles of hats, two mountains of laundry sprang from the armchair. Time to get moving again.
The biggest addition was a bunkbed for Jack. It's mine from high school (yes, I had a bunk bed in high school). We brought it back from StL and set it up today. Here's my tiny boy in his new big boy bed.
His room is SO cluttered around it, but in time we'll be able to move some of his stuff to Ryker's room. Jack swears Ryk is moving in with him after he's done with his crib ("when he's weddy"), so maybe we'll end up with an open room. And he's ecstatic about it. They both are, actually. The addition of the bunkbed also brought with it the addition of 18 new gray hairs on my head as I cycle through images of children toppling off the top bunk. (Knock on wood.)
We had a ton of toys come into our possession as well. And THAT is why I started purging. My accomplice last weekend (my mom) took the kids to lunch and out shopping (for groceries, not more stuff) and I sprinted around the house throwing broken toys away. I will donate the good ones that just aren't used anymore. And here's the best part - the ones we're keeping are now in the basement! God Bless basements! The kids' rec room is shaping up nicely, and now has a Wii with Mario Kart, which happens to be a BLAST to play with Jack. I also cleaned the entire fridge - every shelf came out, got Cloroxed, and went back in. That was all last weekend.
This weekend was no less tidy. I removed all of the Christmas decorations, cleaned the entire kitchen and entryway, reorganized our entry closet, and cleaned the work station upstairs. That last one about killed Chuck and me last night. Took me two glasses of wine and Chuck about three beers to keep motivated. Stacks and stacks of paper. I found the new insurance cards though, so that's a plus.
Anyway, I'm exhausted. But as I tended to the stacks of paper and piles of hats, two mountains of laundry sprang from the armchair. Time to get moving again.
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Vacation
What a fantastic thing a vacation can be. I needed this one. It's been a stressful few months, and the coming months will be tough at work. But for now, I feel totally happy and relaxed and ready to get into my routine again.
Much of my calm right now has come via the warmth I've felt in the last two weeks as I've been surrounded by friends and family. I already blogged about being around my family. The absolute best.
In StL I also got to see my 6th grade teacher again. Actually, she was my Gifted teacher prior to that (I was one of the kids that quietly crept out of my classroom to go where nerds feel comfortable being smart, and get to do projects that kept us challenged.). She taught one year in a regular classroom - and I was one of the lucky ones to get to have her as my teacher. "Lucky" isn't really the right word. My mom actually went up there when she heard that she was going to be a homeroom teacher and said "I have not asked for ANYTHING, but I really want Jamie in her room." Her name is Michelle Jones, but back then she was Mrs. Goldman to me, and I have a hard time not calling her that still. She was the teacher that really truly influenced me. I've had some really great teachers, but none quite like Mrs. Goldman. We've kept in touch ever since. (She reads this blog too - wave hi to the nice folks Mrs. Goldman! And nice folks, wave hi to Mrs. Goldman and thank her for all she's done for me. WIthout her, my ramblings would be even less coherent and contain many more errors.) Anyway, I got to introduce her to Chuck and the boys, and visit with her and her husband. It was fantastic.
I was only in StL for three days and we were with family almost the whole time. Aside from Mrs. Goldman, the only other non-family member I saw was Taylor. (She also reads this blog. Say hi, Taylor!) I played high school basketball and soccer with Taylor and spent many a night eating brownie mix and hanging out with her. Here's how cool Taylor is - the only time we could really get together was Monday night, but we needed to get the bunk bed out of my mom's storage unit and pack our car. So Taylor, who normally falls asleep around 7pm =), came over at 9 and helped us get the bed, repacked Mom's storage, and packed our car. Such a good friend.
When we got home Chuck and I got to have a date night - just the two of us. It was SO nice. Shopping, dinner, movie. Ahhh.
We also went down to Carleton for our annual Alumni Game. It's like going home - walking into West Gym. Nothing quite like it. And seeing my girls again - I see some of them routinely, but some I don't see all year. Some of them I didn't even play with at Carleton because they came in after I graduated. But there is an understanding and a familiarity that comes from being a part of that program - that family. Big hugs, lots of laughs. Our bball tendencies haven't changed a bit, except we're all slower. Well, *I'm* slower for sure. And here was the really fun part - Tammy coached us! She was my basketball AND soccer coach my freshman year, my bball coach my sophomore year, and then let me assistant coach after injuries forced me into early retirement. We've spent A LOT of time together! Tammy retired after last season, so she came and coached the alumni. SO MUCH FUN! I accidentally swore when she tried to put me back in the game. Oops. But she forgave me. And none of us got hurt, I didn't trip (I've done that in at least two other alumni games), I didn't airball (I don't think?) and I even hit a 3 off of the shot clock. Haha!
Then last night we got to go out with friends for New Year's Eve. Went to a bar at 4, then to a friend's house. We laughed and had a great time, but we all left for home after watching the ball drop in New York. We got home at 11:30 but saw that Nicki's mom and dad were still over there, so we ran across the snowy path and hung out with them until 2am.
And props to my mom, who made most of the antics above possible by watching the boys! Yay! Say hi, mom!
Much of my calm right now has come via the warmth I've felt in the last two weeks as I've been surrounded by friends and family. I already blogged about being around my family. The absolute best.
In StL I also got to see my 6th grade teacher again. Actually, she was my Gifted teacher prior to that (I was one of the kids that quietly crept out of my classroom to go where nerds feel comfortable being smart, and get to do projects that kept us challenged.). She taught one year in a regular classroom - and I was one of the lucky ones to get to have her as my teacher. "Lucky" isn't really the right word. My mom actually went up there when she heard that she was going to be a homeroom teacher and said "I have not asked for ANYTHING, but I really want Jamie in her room." Her name is Michelle Jones, but back then she was Mrs. Goldman to me, and I have a hard time not calling her that still. She was the teacher that really truly influenced me. I've had some really great teachers, but none quite like Mrs. Goldman. We've kept in touch ever since. (She reads this blog too - wave hi to the nice folks Mrs. Goldman! And nice folks, wave hi to Mrs. Goldman and thank her for all she's done for me. WIthout her, my ramblings would be even less coherent and contain many more errors.) Anyway, I got to introduce her to Chuck and the boys, and visit with her and her husband. It was fantastic.
I was only in StL for three days and we were with family almost the whole time. Aside from Mrs. Goldman, the only other non-family member I saw was Taylor. (She also reads this blog. Say hi, Taylor!) I played high school basketball and soccer with Taylor and spent many a night eating brownie mix and hanging out with her. Here's how cool Taylor is - the only time we could really get together was Monday night, but we needed to get the bunk bed out of my mom's storage unit and pack our car. So Taylor, who normally falls asleep around 7pm =), came over at 9 and helped us get the bed, repacked Mom's storage, and packed our car. Such a good friend.
When we got home Chuck and I got to have a date night - just the two of us. It was SO nice. Shopping, dinner, movie. Ahhh.
We also went down to Carleton for our annual Alumni Game. It's like going home - walking into West Gym. Nothing quite like it. And seeing my girls again - I see some of them routinely, but some I don't see all year. Some of them I didn't even play with at Carleton because they came in after I graduated. But there is an understanding and a familiarity that comes from being a part of that program - that family. Big hugs, lots of laughs. Our bball tendencies haven't changed a bit, except we're all slower. Well, *I'm* slower for sure. And here was the really fun part - Tammy coached us! She was my basketball AND soccer coach my freshman year, my bball coach my sophomore year, and then let me assistant coach after injuries forced me into early retirement. We've spent A LOT of time together! Tammy retired after last season, so she came and coached the alumni. SO MUCH FUN! I accidentally swore when she tried to put me back in the game. Oops. But she forgave me. And none of us got hurt, I didn't trip (I've done that in at least two other alumni games), I didn't airball (I don't think?) and I even hit a 3 off of the shot clock. Haha!
Then last night we got to go out with friends for New Year's Eve. Went to a bar at 4, then to a friend's house. We laughed and had a great time, but we all left for home after watching the ball drop in New York. We got home at 11:30 but saw that Nicki's mom and dad were still over there, so we ran across the snowy path and hung out with them until 2am.
And props to my mom, who made most of the antics above possible by watching the boys! Yay! Say hi, mom!
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