When You Grow Up

The other day, my 5-year-old was playing on the playground.  All of a sudden, he came to me and said, “When I grow up, I’m going to be a teacher, just like Daddy.”  I asked him what kind of teacher he wanted to be.  He said, “A science teacher.”  We’ve been joking with him that he’s going to be an electrical engineer because he’s so fascinated with how things work, in particular anything having to do with power or electricity.  But this was the first time he actually had an idea himself about his future.

A couple of nights later, he couldn’t sleep and his dad was at a late meeting.  So my son and I put on “Dancing with the Stars.”  I thought he’d be kind of bored (the idea was to bore him to sleep).  But since he himself is a dancer, he was actually interested.  I asked if he thought he’d like to do those dances someday.  He said, “Yes.  When I grow up, I’m going to be an electrical engineer and a science teacher and a dancer.”  I’m glad that for him, the sky is still the limit.

Is There Something Wrong with This?

I took my kids to a field trip this morning.  Afterward, they wanted to stay and play on the playground with the other kids.  So I hung out with the other parents, sneaking periodic peaks at my kids to make sure they were okay.

At some point, a couple of women somewhat older than our group showed up with their grandkids.  Everything seemed fine, until one of the women came storming over saying that one of the “big boys” had thrown a plastic chair and it nearly hit her grandson.  It wouldn’t have been hard to deal with it, except that she came over and accused the entire group of not properly supervising our children.  She claimed that she had “repeatedly” spoken to the kids and asked them to play in a less “rough” way, but that it was finally “out of control” and we needed to do something.

I asked the woman why she ahdn’t come to tell us that there was a problem sooner, and she said that it didn’t matter, we should have been watching the kids.  From where we were (about 10 feet away from the kids), we didn’t see anything inappropriate going on.  It seemed to come from nowhere that we were put on the defensive.

My question is this:  Why do perfect strangers feel that they have any business telling my kids (or anyone else’s but their own) what constitutes appropriate behavior (aside from outright aggression)?  I certainly approve of someone telling my kids to stop if they’re hitting/kicking/biting or otherwise displaying intentionally mean behavior.  Otherwise, I prefer that people let ME know that my kids are doing something they don’t like.

I guess the reason this gets my dander up is that I think people have very strange views these days about what is or is not age-appropriate behavior, and they feel free to tell people they don’t know how to parent their children.  Sorry, but I don’t need that kind of help.  When I want advice from a complete stranger, I’ll ask for it.

As a result of today’s experience, I have now instructed my kids to let me know if an adult they don’t know has told them what to do or not do.  It’s a completely different story if they know the other adult–my kids are instructed to listen to their friend’s parents or other trusted adults.  I have no problem with other adults giving behavioral correction to my kids; I just expect strangers to alert me, not directly speak to my children.

Clove Apples: A Very Bad Idea

This being Apple Week at our homeschooling house, we have done several fun activities.  We picked apples, we made apple pie, we even had a special lunch.  This included turning broccoli into apple trees using M&Ms for apples.  It’s been lots of fun.

The one activity that didn’t go so well was the clove apples.  For the record, I don’t recommend anyone try this craft a) outside a Girl Scout meeting or b) with kids under age 7.

First of all, it requires enough whole cloves to choke a chipmunk.  I had no idea that cloves were so expensive.  We opted to make one very small apple together so that I could still afford to send my kids to college.

Second, it’s really boring.  After putting in one clove, both my kids were off doing other things.  I couldn’t blame them.  The excitement of doing something new wears off once you realize that you have to keep doing the same repetitive task.  The kids would periodically check back in with me, stick in another clove or two, and say, “Are you still making a clove apple, Mama?”  It took about 45 minutes to complete the project.

I don’t feel too bad, though.  After all, how will I ever find the good stuff if I don’t take a few risks?

Time to go read with the kids, maybe some apple books from the library.

Parenting an Alien

Our church just started a new series, “The Creature from Another Planet.”  It’s all about parenting.  In honor ofthe new sereies, I’m starting a new blog.  Just to illustrate the point of kids being like alien life forms, I will now transcribe a recent conversation I had at dinner with my 3-year-old:

3-year-old (pointing to my plate): Is that your snake?

Me: My what?

3yo (pointing): Your snake.

Me: My snake?

3yo (giggling): No, snake.

Me: Snake?

3yo (a little frustrated): Snake! Snake!

Me: Snake?

5-year-old (translating for his sister, clearly exasperated): She meant is that your steak.

Me: Steak?

3yo: Yes!  Your snake!

I’m usually pretty good at speaking preschooler.  For some reason, the way she was speaking was just unintellgible.  Fortunately, when I get in a real bind, my son can easily translate for my daughter.   It helps to have an interpreter when landing on Planet Kid.