Tag Archives: kids

It’s Just a Cough, Right?

Posted on September 26, 2012 | Leave a comment

My son’s friends came home with him after school today to hang out for a while.  As the boys tumbled through the door, divesting themselves of their jackets, backpacks and sneakers (no shoes in the house!!) I noticed that one of them was sporting a pretty nasty cough.

Normally I’m not paranoid about other kids’ coughs, sneezes, or runny noses – kids get sick, including my own –  I offer tissues and insist on hand washing to keep the germs at bay, and that’s usually enough to keep things under control.  But last week we got a notice from the school nurse that a case of whooping cough had been identified in the school, and in my son’s grade to boot.  I knew for sure that my son’s friend wasn’t the affected individual, but as soon as the boys were settled in I grabbed the notice and gave it another read.

I learned that whooping cough (pertussis) is a highly contagious bacterial infection that causes an uncontrollable, violent cough lasting several weeks or even months.  It can begin with cold-like symptoms or a dry cough that can progress to episodes of severe coughing.  It is spread from person to person by direct contact with mucus or droplets from the nose and throat of infected individuals.   At that point a visual of microscopic droplets, pregnant with pertussis, being hacked into the air popped in to my head.   In my vivid imaginings I pictured those droplets landing on the Legos and Nerf guns the kids were playing with, and then making their way into their noses and throats. . .

That’s when I went to the laundry room and grabbed my can of Lysol disinfectant and started spraying.  Everything.  Even those stinky sneakers by the door.  The kids didn’t seem to notice.

I asked my son’s friend how long he’d been coughing and he replied that it’s been a few days now, “but it’s not that whooping cough”, he insisted “I just have a cold.”  I simply smiled and kept on spraying.

After the kids left, my son remarked that his coughing friend had been uncharacteristically cranky today.  I explained to him that he probably wasn’t feeling well, and then I called his mom to let her know that he’d been out of sorts and coughing quite a bit this afternoon.  She thanked me and assured me that it was nothing to worry about.   Was I being a little paranoid?  Perhaps,  but I told my son to wash his hands and face thoroughly and continued to Lysol all the Legos and Nerf guns. . .

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California Roll – The Gateway Sushi

Posted on July 25, 2012 | 4 Comments

Ah, summertime and the living is easy.  In between play dates, lazy afternoons at the pool,  assorted day trips and movies, my son and I ducked into the local Barnes and Noble to escape the summer heat.  Ignoring my gentle suggestions and the selections on his 6th grade reading list, my kid walked out of the book store with James Patterson’s Middle School, Get Me Out of Here! and. . . a sushi making kit.

My son loves sushi.  Okay, technically he loves California rolls, which perhaps for the true sushi aficionado is not really considered sushi; like the fortune cookie, the California roll is an American invention.  Created in the early 1970s by a sushi chef in Los Angeles, it consists of crab, avocado and cucumber wrapped in rice and nori (seaweed) and sprinkled with sesame seeds.  But, I like to think of it as a gateway sushi – if he’s enjoying this now, maybe as he gets older he’ll move onto a tuna roll or some hardcore sashimi.  Anything that expands a kid’s culinary horizons is fine by me, and $10 is a small price to pay for his delighted enthusiasm.

The Sushi Making Kit from Mud Puddle Inc. provides the essentials – recipe book, rolling mat, rice paddle, and two sets of chopsticks.  Most of the  ingredients are readily available at the supermarket in the Asian foods section, and I found the crab sticks at our neighborhood produce market.  The sushi rice is easy to prepare, and once all the ingredients are cut up and the rice has cooled,  you’re (literally) ready to roll.

My son quickly took charge, and following the easy instructions, here’s how it turned out:

The ingredients

Spreading the rice on the nori

Adding the filling

Roooolling along. . .

A little chunky but good!

Ready for slicing; he used a serrated knife

Nice!

Ah, summertime – and the sushi is easy!

All photos courtesy of Mom Meets Blog

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Anatomy of a Playdate

Posted on June 25, 2012 | 6 Comments

I came home today to find my son’s cousins have come over to play for the afternoon. With my son suitably entertained for the time being and my husband on kid patrol, I am comfortably ensconced at my desk with a cup of hazelnut coffee and a croissant slathered in Nutella (what else?) and topped with apricot preserves, door tightly shut (should I lock it?), hoping to get some work done.  My husband is supposed to be keeping the kids from killing each other watching the kids but I can hear that they are just about to begin a sword battle and I know that no good can come of this.  When it’s two 11 year olds against a 7 year old (or is it the other way around?) there’s bound to be bloodshed, or tears at least.

“Ow, that hurts!” I hear one of them cry out, I can’t tell which one.  I don’t hear my husband.  I hear the playing continue.  I hear a little body slamming, some running, jumping, banging, yelping and more sword clanging.  Still no husband.   I wonder if he’s fallen asleep on the couch.  I refuse to get up and check to see what’s going on.  I refuse to let my coffee get cold, and I’ve only eaten half my croissant.

I sit and listen, trying to discern whose voice is whose.  I hear some yelling, but can’t really make out what they’re saying. . . Uh  oh.  Now it’s quiet.  Too quiet.  I start to push back my chair. . .

Now they’re laughing.  Laughing is good, right?  Unless they’ve found something inappropriate on the internet (is that why they were so quiet?) and are now cackling hysterically over something that’s really funny or that they don’t understand – or both.

Good.  The sword clanging has resumed.  “I’m not kidding!  Stop!  Stop it!!” one of them bellows.  Still no reaction from my husband.  Christ, what is he doing????

I am not getting up.  I can hear feet scurrying.  I hear rapid clicking sounds.  I wonder if my husband’s still in the house.

I take a sip of my coffee – still warm.  And then the crying begins.

It’s the 7 year old.  From what I gather about the melee occurring outside my door, he got pelted between the eyes with a Nerf gun bullet and didn’t like it.  When I came home  I noticed at least five Nerf guns out and enough ammo to take out a small (Lego) village, with the younger one sporting multiple weapons, dispatching foam balls and bullets at the hapless two older kids.  Turnabout is fair play, little man.

“All right guys, that’s it!” I hear my husband parenting (finally!)  He tells one of the kids to put down the shield (?) and for everybody to sit down and watch TV.

It’s quiet again.

I polish off my croissant.  The doorbell rings – it’s the boys’ dad come to pick them up.  I can hear them all talking and saying goodbye.  I don’t move.  I finish this post.  And my coffee.

Photos courtesy of Google Images and Mom Meets Blog

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The Birds, the Bees & Bye Bye Birdie

Posted on May 24, 2012 | 9 Comments

Last week we went to see the 7th & 8th grade production of Bye Bye Birdie at my son’s middle school.  I am particularly fond of this piece because, back in the day, I was one of the “screaming girls” in my 8th grade’s production of the musical.  I remember how much fun all my friends and I had singing the songs during rehearsals, and how exciting the performances were.  I felt that my son would also enjoy the play because, although it is set in the late 1950s, the themes still ring true today – bewildered parents, their hormone driven teenagers, and the maniacal worship of teen idols (paging Justin Bieber – or is it One Direction now?  Kids!).  My son absolutely roared with laughter at one point when, during a frustrating encounter with his children, the Harry MacAfee character sputters, “I didn’t know what puberty was until I was almost past it!”  I think he found that funny because there’s been so much puberty talk at school lately (it’s one of the units of study this semester) that he couldn’t imagine anyone actually missing it!

As I was helping my son study for a test on that subject one evening, I could tell by my husband’s bemused expression that, like Harry MacAfee, he didn’t quite know what to make of it all.  Certainly our respective parents never quizzed us on the term for “the spurting out of semen from the penis” or the name of “the entire outside genital area of a female”.  In my experience, “the period talk” consisted of receiving an informative book and a box of pads courtesy of Kimberly-Clark, and where babies came from (and how they got there in the first place) was not a topic parents discussed with their children.  But there I sat, discussing testicles, vaginas, and nocturnal emissions with my son as though we were chatting about what he had for lunch in the cafeteria that afternoon, while my husband busied himself in the kitchen so as not to get involved disturb us.  I knew he felt uncomfortable, but he would have to get over that, and fast.

I will say that talking about puberty and the changes that both boys’ and girls’ bodies undergo in such a matter-of-fact way has so normalized this conversation that I feel it has opened the door for a kind of closeness that I’m sure many of us didn’t experience with our folks when we were growing up.  I want my son to know that he can talk to me about this or anything else that comes his way.  I certainly welcome and feel very comfortable with this new chapter in our relationship.  I remember reading about a Details  magazine article where The Avengers  star Chris Evans revealed that his mom was the first person he told when he lost his virginity.  I wonder if I will be privy to that information.  I mean, the kid just gave me a surprisingly accurate explanation of the process of menstruation and he’s figured out why mommy has a “stomachache” every month, so I guess anything is possible.

While I was making breakfast on the morning of the test, my son asked my husband to quiz him on the material one last time.  I held my breath for a second to see if he was going to lob this one over to me or whether he would bite the bullet and jump on the puberty bandwagon.  Without skipping a beat my husband said “Sure” and they sat down together for a final review.  And with that we all entered a brave new world.

Oh, and the test?  My son came home proudly waving it around yesterday.  He got a 95.  :)

Check out “What’s the Matter with Kids Today” from the 1963 film version of Bye Bye Birdie

Photos courtesy of Wikipedia and Barnes & Noble

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I Was a Cereal Killer – One Mom’s Cautionary Tale

Posted on May 7, 2012 | 7 Comments

What have I done?

I know my 11-year-old son is a capable child.  He likes to help his dad out at the store and recently our neighbors hired him to look after their cats while they are away on vacation.  He does well in school, is a brown belt in karate, loves to play everything from “Bach Minuet in G Major” to “Moves Likes Jagger” on the piano, puts his dirty clothes in the hamper (mostly), keeps his room fairly neat, is always up and dressed for school on time, is helpful, polite, and is never ever sick at sea.

So I was a little thrown this morning when I found him looking at a YouTube video on how to make a bowl of cereal.  Really??  He doesn’t know how to fix a bowl of cereal?  How did this happen?  I looked at the computer screen, fairly surprised that there must be other kids in the same situation judging from the variety of  videos available on this subject.

While I admired his initiative to find an answer to his dilemma (is there anything you can’t learn to do via YouTube?) I wondered why he just didn’t ask me to pour him a bowl of cereal.  The truth is, whenever he says “I’m hungry”, I jump like some Pavlovian dog, ready to fix him a snack or get him a drink or start dinner a little earlier.  It’s well known that hearing your baby cry during the early weeks of life can cause a mother’s breasts to leak milk – his call for food just speaks to my primal instinct as a mom to make sure my baby is fed.

But the fact is, he’s not a baby anymore.  He knows where the kitchen is, but thanks to me I realized that it’s a bit of a mystery to him how the food magically appears on a plate or in a bowl.  It became obvious why he didn’t ask for my help.  His quest to figure out how to fix his own breakfast is an assertion of his increasing self-reliance.  He’s letting me know that he’s now capable of fixing his own breakfast/snack/whatever.  Maybe next he’ll let me know that he’s capable of doing his own laundry.

I watched him silently as he fixed his own cereal, poured his own juice and sat down at the table to eat breakfast.  It’s a kitchen, I reminded myself, it’s not like he has to go out and forage for nuts and berries.  I smiled, happy and a little sad that my baby son is becoming more self-sufficient by the minute, before my very eyes.

You know, this could be a very good thing.  I wonder if he can learn to whip up breakfast in bed in time for Mother’s Day?  I’m sure there must be a YouTube video for that. . .

Images courtesy of YouTube and Google Images

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Boy Meets Italy

Posted on April 24, 2012 | 17 Comments

Dad gets slimed. . .

Last summer my husband, son and I went to Italy.  After two summers of vacationing with Spongebob Squarepants – one year on the Nickelodeon Cruise, and the next year at the Nick Resort in Orlando – I felt the need to plan a vacation that didn’t include cartoon character breakfasts, poolside shaving cream fights, and getting slimed (ok, my husband took the hit for the team and endured the majority of  the slime).  I wanted to stroll along ancient streets, marvel at sights I’d only read about or seen on television, dine on delicious food al fresco, and unwind with an authentic cappuccino and biscotti after a day of shopping in Rome.  In short, I wanted – no, needed – to have a grown up vacation, and prayed that my then- 10 year old might enjoy it too.  After taking him to see the Pompeii exhibit at Discovery Times Square, my son was intrigued enough to have a go at Rome, as long as we planned a day trip to Pompeii.  With the extra assurance that he could indeed get Lego minifigures outside of the United States and watch Spongebob Squarepants on TV (in Italian, of course) I booked the trip and we were on our way.  I’ve assembled a photo journal of our trip through my son’s 10 year old eyes (and sometimes smart mouth):

Rome Cavalieri Hotel

“Well, it’s not the Nick Resort, but this hotel’s okay. . .”

Barcaccia Fountain

“This water tastes awesome. . . and I can drink from any fountain????”

Spanish Steps

“Wait, we have to walk up all these steps???”

Colosseum

“That Colosseum was kind of cool. . .”

“Too much walking and talking at the Vatican. . . “

"Lacoonte" - Vatican Museum

“But that snake biting the guy statue  is pretty cool. . .”

“These bumpy streets are hurting my feet. . .”

Lighting candles. . .

“There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home. . .”

A final resting place. . .

“Wait, somebody’s buried in the floor???  AWESOME!!”

Pompeii

“Ok, I have to admit. . . “

More Pompeii. . .

“Pompeii was REALLY cool. . . “

“Shopping???   NOOOOO!!!!”

Delizioso!

“The food is pretty good too. . .”

“Alright guys, Italy wasn’t so bad, but next year we’re going back to the Nick Resort. . . um, can I have another gelato?”

All photos are the personal property of Mom Meets Blog 

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Welcome to Nike Town!

Posted on April 13, 2012 | 11 Comments

Okay, so my 11-year-old son’s feet grew.  A lot.

He’s been wearing the same pair of sneakers for the last 7 months.  I kept asking him if they felt too tight or if he was uncomfortable, and he kept telling me they felt fine.  I’ve offered several times to buy him a new pair of sneakers, but he’s declined.  Being a creature of habit, he likes to wear the same things over and over again, especially his shoes.  Plus, he hates any kind of shopping.  And with the mild winter we’ve had, there was no need to go out and buy new boots, so I hadn’t had his foot measured since the beginning of the school year.

Until today.  He measured in at a size four.  The sneakers he’s been wearing are a size two.  “Why didn’t you tell me your sneakers felt too small?”  I questioned my son.  He just shrugged his shoulders.  “Don’t worry about it,” the clerk at Modell’s said.  “Their old sneakers stretch as their feet grow, he probably didn’t feel any difference.”

Maybe he didn’t feel any difference, but I felt like the most horrible mom on earth.  Who takes their kid’s word for it that their shoes fit?  Who doesn’t get their kid’s foot measured more regularly?  Why don’t I have a Brannock device at home???

We looked around the store for a new pair of sneakers.  I managed to talk him out of a high-top basketball shoe; he doesn’t play basketball and I could hear the complaints that they were bothering his ankles already.  And for the price, I wasn’t taking a chance that it was something he would decide felt uncomfortable in 3 days’ time.  He didn’t see anything he liked, so we headed on over to Foot Locker, with its clerks dressed in striped ref shirts, questionable rap music blaring over the speakers, and boys drooling over the latest overpriced kicks – a pre-teen boy’s footwear mecca.  No more Skechers.  No more Stride Rite.  Straight into Nike town.

And then the sticker shock set in – $65, $85, $100 and more!  Am I that out of touch?  I’d heard the rumors of boys’ sneakers costing as much as a month’s worth of groceries, but I thought that was an urban legend.  These are sneakers, after all, not Jimmy Choo‘s, which as everyone knows are an investment, or so I’ve read (but how would I fit them into my portfolio?).  These shoes are likely to be outgrown and forgotten in 6 months.  Hoping to cut my losses, I grabbed a pair of $65 Nike Air Max shoes and asked the clerk to bring me a size four.  My son slipped his feet into them and immediately felt the difference (damn you, clerk at Modell’s!) – he said they weren’t tight, and the side of his foot wasn’t hurting anymore (what??).  “Do you like them?” I asked, before he could look at anything else.  “Yeah, they’re cool,” he pronounced.  I threw the old ones in the new sneaker box and headed for the register, happy to be getting out of there for less than a hundred bucks.

At check out the cashier informed me that the total was $99.16.  “What?  No, the price on this shoe is $65, I saw it on the floor,” I exclaimed.  “Yes, that’s for size 3 and under; size four starts at $95,” the cashier explained.  Considering that the sneakers were already on my son’s feet and factoring in his pain and suffering at wearing sneakers two sizes too small for God knows how long, I handed over my credit card.

What was I complaining about?  I was, after all, getting out of there for under $100.

Are you as clueless as I am about pre-teen boy’s sneakers?  Are they really overpriced, or am I just out of touch?  What else do I have to look out for?  Will I ever own a pair of Jimmy Choo’s?  If you have answers to any of these questions, please, let me know!

Some photos courtesy of Google images

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A Well Visit Wake Up

Posted on April 3, 2012 | 12 Comments

courtesy of Google images

I recently took my 11 year old son for his yearly well visit with the pediatrician.  At the end of the appointment, and after being assured all was indeed well, the doctor handed me a nifty little printout detailing the visit.  The first page listed current height and weight, any labs and tests ordered, results from vision and hearing screening, and any follow up appointments that needed scheduling.  How nice to have all that information neatly summarized on one page for easy reference – thank you, electronic medical records.

Then I turned the page.

The next page was captioned “11-14 Year Old Adolescent Visit”.  Adolescent?  My visceral reaction to reading this was “Holy sh*tballs! For reals?  Where did that come from?” I was just getting used to the term tween.  Tween is cute.  Last week he was still 10 years old.  This week he’s 11 and suddenly the word adolescent is being bandied about?  That just has a clinical ring to it I’m not sure I’m ready for.

And “11” is light years away from “14”.  In my inner panic all I could picture was a sullen, monosyllabic sleeping and eating machine who is six inches taller than me, at risk for trigger thumb from too much texting and suddenly interested in commercials for Axe deodorant.  This is a far cry from my sweet little boy who still reaches for my hand whenever we cross a busy street (if no one’s looking, of course).

I don’t know why I was so floored.  From infant to toddler to preschooler to big kid to tween (and technically I think I can still hold on to that one), my son’s new identifier as “11-14 Year Old Adolescent” is just the next step, right?  But there it was in black and white, mocking me as if to say “ready or not, here I come!”

The document went on to list information and guidelines about topics such as school performance, immunizations, testing, nutrition and oral health, physical, social and emotional development, and talking to your newly minted adolsecent about “risk behaviors” – you can just imagine what that’s about.

“Doctor,” I said, “Don’t get me wrong, I think this handout is great, but that ‘11-14 Year Old Adolescent’ thing kind of grabbed me by the throat.”  This man, who has been my son’s pediatrician for 10 years, laughed and said, “Yes, I know it’s a shock, but it’s here.”

And the hormone talk, like spring, must be in the air.  A few days later as I was looking over the curriculum topics to be covered in his class after the spring break, I noticed that “Puberty” was nestled in there between the Latin American Unit, Rocks and Minerals, and Essays and Fiction Writing.

I turned to my son and asked him if he knew what puberty was.  “I don’t know”, he shrugged “something about growing up, I guess”.

I have this tucked away. . .

Like the doctor said, it’s here.

It’s really here.

Have you had “the talk” with your kids yet?  How did you handle it?  What’s in store?  I really want to know!

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Plugging in when your middle-schooler wants to cut the cord

Posted on March 28, 2012 | 8 Comments

I’m always looking for opportunities to stay involved in my son’s educational experience, which has gotten a little trickier since he moved up to middle school.  In elementary school, there were more ways for me to feel plugged in to his experience, as well as to engage with teachers and staff.   Now there are no more apple picking trips, family dance nights or in-class birthday/ Halloween/ Valentine’s Day/Thanksgiving  celebrations (that I’m allowed to attend, anyway).  The elementary school felt like an extension of home – my son would run up to me and give me a hug if he saw me in the hallway while dropping off books for the book fair or volunteering in the cafeteria on pizza Fridays.  Although I have a wonderful relationship with his teacher and staff at the middle school, sometimes I feel like an  interloper; kids I’ve known since they were in kindergarten look at me like an alien life form if they see me anywhere in the vicinity of the middle school.  I feel as though they think that the anti-bacterial dispensers stationed in the hallways should contain parent repellent instead of Purell.  And (sniffle) I’ve seen my son do a double-take if I show up unexpectedly in the hallway, like “uh, what’s she doing here?”

I found some great suggestions for staying actively involved in your child’s school while he or she is trying mightily to pretend that you don’t exist in  10 Tips for Middle School Parents via SchoolFamily.com.  I especially liked the ones about doing behind-the-scenes work and posting a family calendar in a central location where you, along with your child, can add to it.

Middle school can be a confusing time for everyone, so  I’m all in favor of anything that keeps me in the loop in the most unobtrusive way possible.  I know it’s healthy and inevitable for our middle-schoolers to start asserting some independence but, whether they realize it or not, they need us now more than ever, right?  Someone validate me, please (I don’t think my middle-schooler is going to)!

plug in!

How do you check in with your middle-schooler and stay involved in the school scene?  All suggestions are welcome!

 

Photo courtesy of Mom Meets Blog

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Beyond “Stranger Danger”

Posted on March 11, 2012 | 2 Comments

It’s a sensitive subject and one any parent prays they will never have to confront – what if someone tries to hurt my child?  How do I protect and yet inform him or her about the reality that there is evil in this world?  And worse yet, what if that sexual predator turns out to be a beloved teacher, coach or neighbor?  It seems you can’t turn on a news program without hearing about some grossly inappropriate behavior being perpetrated by a trusted member of the community.  My husband and I just recently completed a 30-hour course to become foster parents where this topic was discussed at length, as many of these children have been violated by those who were supposed to protect them the most.

Even though I have discussed this topic with my 11-year-old son, the following article from blogger Cori Linder at ModernMom.com gives practical tips and advice on discussing this subject with your kids that  I will be mindful of the next time I “check in” with my son (and, hopefully soon, with our child in care).

Protecting Kids From Sexual Abuse | ModernMom.com.

Have you had this conversation with your kids yet?  How did you handle it?  How  did they?

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