A Mom's World

— musings on motherhood, writing, and pretty much everything else, by Jennifer Clark Estes

Today, Tim Thomas, you are no hero

It finally happened.

Ice hockey has become a Thing in my house.

I guess I should have seen it coming. We live in Massachusetts, after all, and kids around here seem pop out at birth wearing skates and cheering for the B’s. But I am not from here. I haven’t skated since I was a kid — neither has Ray, who grew up in New York. We’ve never gone to a rink as a family, though Mitzi has gone a few times with friends. As far as watching sports on TV, hockey is about as popular in our house as cricket.

So far it’s just Cooper who’s been growing increasingly interested over the past couple of years, mostly because a few of his friends play (I applaud their parents — aside from the expense of equipment and ice time, those early morning practices are enough to earn you sainthood). Last year he mentioned once that he wanted to give it a try, then never brought it up again. I sighed in relief. Hockey Mom was not my destiny.

This year, though, with the mild winter and new playmates, Cooper, a natural athlete (which is honestly just the truth, not bragging) has had a lot of opportunities to play street hockey. He asked for a net and stick for his birthday, and his generous grandfather complied. It’s now hulking in the basement, and we upstairs are constantly bombarded with the wap, wap, wap as he slapsticks puck after puck. So far, he’s managed to avoid any windows.

Also for his birthday, he’s asked for hockey trading cards to add to his collections of baseball and Pokemon cards so carefully catalogued in three-ring binders. And he wants a jersey of some Bruins player. I know he told me the name, but it wasn’t one of the two I know. I haven’t really remembered a hockey player since I had a teenage crush on Ray Bourque (who was very cute) even though I don’t think I ever actually watched him play a game. He must have been featured in 16 Magazine or Tiger Beat.

All hockey, all the time — all of a sudden.  

So in his emerging hockey obsession, last night Cooper sat through the evening news, refusing to come to dinner, because he wanted to find out why Tim Thomas did not go to the White House to meet the president. I wouldn’t let him miss dinner, so we had to DVR the broadcast.

We still haven’t watched it, but now I have to figure out how to explain to my almost-nine-year-old son that this newfound sports hero was having a moment of selfish brattiness. That the only American citizen on the team couldn’t move beyond his politics and  let his country congratulate him and his teammates on a wonderful accomplishment. That this athlete’s behavior diminished what should have been a singular moment of celebration for the championship players — instead of applauding the men, everyone is now focusing on Thomas’s all-about-me petulance.

Yesterday, Thomas missed the save, the opportunity to show young fans everywhere how to express his personal views to the leader of our country without tantrum or negativity. He missed the chance to show kids democracy in action, as well as showing them that talented and respected athletes, the heroes they worship to passionately, can use their fame and skills to make a difference.

It’s a shame. Cooper loves sports and he loves heroes.

Luckily, Tim Thomas, there are plenty of choices for my son. Today, you’re not one of them.

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Boycott of Girl Scout cookies? Only if you support intolerance…

When she was in first grade, I signed up Mitzi for Girl Scouts. She was interested and had friends in the program; I had nice memories of my (short) time as a Girl Scout and knew it was a fun experience. I also volunteered to be a troop leader, knowing that few parents do, and I wanted to make sure all girls who wanted to participate would be able to do so.

This is our third year, and while it’s not the easiest volunteering gig in the world, the girls seem to be having a fun time with it. Whatever my frustrations might be with the overall structure of the actual program (currently in a transition that aims to have a sharper focus on skills rather than badges), I do believe in the basic ideology and goals of the program: to help develop girls to be strong leaders, have self-confidence, and become interested in contributing in a positive way to our world and the people in it.

So when I saw this video last night, I was horrified:

This girl (identified as Taylor, from California) has put together a nicely edited, well-articulated presentation calling for a boycott of Girl Scout cookies, the sales of which are going on now all around the country. Why? Because, last fall, a Colorado Girl Scout council allowed a 7-year-old transgendered child to enroll in a local troop.

Apparently, Taylor (and others, including three troops in Louisiana that disbanded in protest last December) believes that inclusion of transgendered youth presents a real and present danger to all Girl Scouts.

What?

I’m happy that GSUSA has taken the right stand on this issue: Spokespeople for both the Colorado council and the national council have said that as long as a child lives as a girl, presents herself as a girl, and identifies as a girl, she can be a Scout.

What bothers me the most about this video is Taylor’s teenaged demanor, so calm and rational and mature —  completely, awfully at odds with the hatred and intolerance and bigotry that is behind the words she so sweetly utters.

Ironically, she also seems to have learned well from her time as a Girl Scout — she clearly has self-confidence, and sees herself as a both leader and as someone with a mission to effect change in the world. It’s just too bad the change she wants is one of bias and exclusion. Where her beliefs came from, I can’t say for sure, though I suspect it comes from the people who helped raise her to the girl she is now.

Taylor uses the three goals of Girl Scout goals to present her case: Discover, Connect and Take Action. Discover = identify a problem or need. Connect = to yourself and others. Take Action = finding/implementing a solution. All this is supposed to add up to leadership.

Except, for Taylor, it doesn’t. It adds up to a point of view I would be ashamed to discover in my own daughter.

As a Girl Scout leader, I feel okay about using the GSUSA program goals here, as I reflect on this astounding situation: 

Discover = Hey! Living and breathing in our Girl Scout community, are people of hate, bigotry, intolerance and exclusion.

Connect = Makes my skin crawl.

Take Action = Write this blog post. Encourage others to speak out, too.

And boycott the boycott —  buy as many Girl Scout cookies as you can.

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10 Things Parents Should Stop Doing

In the spirit of a new year, and inspired by this post for writers (which in turn was inspired by this post, and both posts are awesome, by the way), I have created a new list for you parents. It’s not a list of resolutions, of what you’d like to do this year, but rather a list of all the things you need to stop doing. Now.

Full disclosure: I often find myself doing some or all of these things. And none of them make me a better or happier parent. Perhaps you feel the same. If that’s true, join me in giving yourself total permission to stop messing with your own head this year.

Print it out and tape it to your mirror or car dashboard or inside the freezer next to the ice cream.

Say this list like a mantra; repeat it like the serenity prayer; lotus up and murmur it like om.

Say it often and say it loud!

1.  Stop feeling guilty.

Over everything. Over how much time you don’t spend with your kids, and what you don’t do when you are with them. Over what you said or did or didn’t say or do. Over giving your kids Cheerios for dinner and letting them stay up to watch SpongeBob, over ignoring the mess, over not using an iron like your mom did, over not really liking to cook as much as you eat. Just stop. You’re not perfect. No one expects you to be. You’re doing the best you can, and parenting is hard. If sometimes dinner comes from a soup can or the kids skip their nightly bath, who the heck cares? Guilt is a useless emotion if harbored over time (although a little guilt is handy in immediate situations, like if you rob a bank and feel guilty and turn yourself into the police, or if you throw away your daughter’s favorite Barbie shoes that were wrapped in a used tissue). If you’ve erred and made restitution, be done with it. But the kind of guilt I’m talking about will do nothing but give you an ulcer. Let it go.

2.  Stop copying other parents.

It’s hard sometimes not to look at other parents and feel like they’re doing everything better, with less stress, than you are. Remember, though, you’re often seeing their out-in-public personas. Mommy McPerfect may be the most whacked-out, disorganized mess in the privacy of her home office, no matter how deftly she negotiates schedules her family’s lives on her pink smart phone while in the midst of volunteering for every school event that her neatly-pressed children participate in. Everyone has a different parenting style. Embrace yours.

3.  Stop multitasking.

This does not mean that you should not throw a load of laundry into the washing machine while you are making dinner. That is not really multitasking — that’s just getting stuff done. Multitasking is trying to write a blog post while also singing along with your kindergartener’s 95th chorus of “Pop Goes the Weasel”. Multitasking is catching up on twitter on the sidelines of your kid’s basketball practice and pretending you’re watching. Multitasking is an awful concept and should be forever stricken from our public consciousness. Why? Because if you are multitasking, in its truest form, you are not present in the moment. All the things you think you’re getting done are getting less attention than they deserve. If you’re at your daughter’s basketball practice, be there. Not on twitter. If you’re blogging, blog. If you’re singing, sing. Life speeds by. Do you really want to miss it?

4.  Stop overscheduling.

Tired of hauling kids from one activity to the next all afternoon, only to come home to face dinner-making, homework-cajoling, and that towering pile of laundry? You only have yourself to blame. No one says you have to sign your kid up for everything he wants to do. We have a rule — one sport per season. It’s non-negotiable. One nonsport, low participation activity. Non-negotiable. The kids have to pick what they want most to do.  It’s hard to say no — who wants to limit a child’s potential and experience? But there’s something to be said for free time, down time, and the creativity and other benefits that come with it.  Kids need that today, perhaps more than ever. Their parents do, too.

5.  Stop whining.

Yes, I said that out loud. An occasional phone call to a good friend/sister/your mom to complain about how tough everything is is A-OK.  A periodic public post on something that just happened is fine. But if you find yourself endlessly tweeting or Facebooking about how crappy everything is, you might want to pause. Everyone needs to vent, but constantly? To what end? Eventually you need to step back, assess the situation, and see what you can fix — because most problems have solutions. While you figure them out, a little rant now and then is just fine. But if whining is all you do….well, how do you feel when that’s all your kids do? There you go.

6.  Stop social media bragging.

On the flip side of whining: the nonstop exclamations about how awesome and talented and cute your kids are. If we are Facebook friends, I already know your kids are awesome and talented and cute. In fact, all of your Facebook friends do. We also know that you are smart and funny and have loads of interests outside of your kids. So while I appreciate the updates and the photos and the videos, if *all* you share are these things, you’re going to start irritating people. Every once in a while throw in a comment about politics, a movie you just saw, a book you just read, or a link to an old Calvin and Hobbes cartoon. For the love of Pete.

7.  Stop obssessing over your mistakes.

Coulda, shoulda, woulda. Everyone screws up. I have in the past forgotten to pick up a child at a friend’s house when I was supposed to (and I was really late); made a negative flip remark to a parent about the way a sports organization was run, only to find out that parent was actually in charge of running the program; forgotten about something I was in charge of until 10 minutes before; was late to meet the kindergarten bus, so child rode it for 2 route laps until the distruntled driver returned to school, from whose office I received a terse “Please come get your child” phone call.   Plus loads of other stuff too embarrassing to mention. Dwelling on them doesn’t change anything. No one was traumatized, no one was scarred for life.  And I guarantee you this: everyone else has mostly forgotten about the screw-ups by now. Move on.

8.  Stop trying to control things that are out of your control.

You learned this one early on — try as you might, you could never force your kids to eat, use the toilet, or fall asleep when you wanted them to. Apply this experience to just about everything else around you and you will be much happier. ‘Nuff said.

9.  Stop putting yourself last.

This is one plagues parents the most, perhaps. I struggle with it all the timse. It started pretty much from day one. When Mitzi was born, Ray was working full-time and going to law school at night. Although I did return to teaching when she was a few months old, Cooper was born the next year, Ray was still in law school, and I was pretty busy, even when I had to give up the whole job thing. Fast-forward a couple of years, a couple more kids, and things just got crazier. So putting myself last became the norm, the way it was, and it’s been hard to change. But change is necessary. Happy parents make happy kids, and happy parents need to regularly do things just for themselves. Find the time. Make it happen.

10.  Stop feeling like you ought to be doing more than you are.

It’s worth repeating — you are not perfect. No one expects you to be. Stop trying to be Superparent! It’s okay to have certain goals — I really need to spend more time reading out loud to my kids or I’d like to volunteer for more activities or I want to start training for the Boston Marathon. Awesome! Go for it! But if the fact that you’re not doing these things makes you feel like lesser of a parent, well, honestly, shame on you. Instead of moaning over what you think you should be doing, try thinking about all you are doing and know this — other people are looking at you and wondering how the heck you do it all so fabulously.

So, what do you think? What negative parenting behaviors should we all stop this year?

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Happy Birthday, Baby!

Come on. You know I couldn’t let the day end without posting a happy birthday shout-out to my oldest child, who turned 10 today!

*thud*

How is it possible that I have a ten year old?

Come to think of it, how is it possible that I have four kids? Sometimes when I think hard about this, I laugh uproariously, because oftentimes I consider myself too clueless to bear the weight of responsibly raising another human being.  See? You’re laughing too.

The fact that I have wonderful kids seems more to do with them, rather than me, no matter what anyone says. Because in true parent form, like so many others, I tend to dwell on my failures, rather than on my successes. My kids are thriving in spite of, not because of me, much like the way my generation survived our childhood without the benefits of outlet covers and stairway gating.

Today, though, I will enjoy the success, because look at my kid! Beautiful, smart, resilient, creative, on and on….not unflawed, not by any stretch, but overall pretty darned amazing.

Sometimes I look at her in awe. (But because she is preteen I do NOT let her see me looking at her like this. Well, maybe only a little.)

I think it was a fun day for her, and I hope she felt special. Even though it was a ton of work in a very short period of time (yes, another Mom would’ve done this all days ago), Mitzi and her siblings had a great half hour on her present treasure hunt after school. In short: she got an initial scroll with a rhymed clue that lead her to present number one, and another clue scroll, which lead her to present number two, and so on). The first time I did this she was five, and the “clues” were things like “look in the room where the big couch is, then look under it.”  This year I used very tricky language, metaphor, and vague references. Next year, algebra.

Gotta keep them on their toes.

But the best was dessert. Last year was her first as a diabetic. Then, she was on a strict regimen of carbs throughout the day — because of the way we administered insulin, she could only have so many per meal or snack. Therefore, her birthday treat had to be at bedtime, her final snack of the day. But it could only be so many carbs. Instead of frosting on cupcakes, we used Cool Whip. It was delicious and no one cared. Well, I was still grieving, and cared a little.

But this year was almost decadent. Because she is using the insulin pump, she can eat whatever she wants, whenever she wants (well, as long as her parents say it’s okay. I mean, we’re not talking about a revolving door kitchen here!). So we had cupcakes with full-out sugared Betty Crocker frosting, diabetes be damned! I have no idea if she even remembered last year or noted the difference, but it was just meant everything to me.

And now, the day is over, my baby is gone to bed to read for as long as she can get away with. Ten years old. Holy cow.

Happy birthday, baby.

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