A "Murder On the Grill"

If you are looking for a fun way to spend an evening with friends this summer, I recommend having a potluck dinner and playing a Murder On the Grill, from Amazon.com.  I think you’ll find yourself with a cheap night at home that has you laughing long after the night ends.  My friends and I did just that on the last night of school for our kids.  Everyone took their assigned roles and rolls seriously.

Set in the ‘50s, the game called for people to arrive dressed as greasers, pink ladies, used car salesmen, actors and rocket scientists.  I wore my bridesmaid’s dress from my sister’s wedding, along with a sash and a tiara as Miss Kansas City.  Though the game identified 8 characters, I created partner roles like Ronnie the Pink Lady for Johnny Angel, Svetlana the wife of Ivan the rocket scientist, Rockin Sue - groupie of Chubby Cheddar the rock star.  The food was simple – anything appropriate for a barbecue – salad, bbq chicken, steak, corn on the cob and pie.  That coupled with Happy Days playing in the background and some games like a hula hoop contest and best character award finished off the evening.  It far surpassed an evening at a nice restaurant, and it incorporated our kids as well (my son won the hula hoop contest).   Any entertainment that takes us back to the “good old days” sure beats an evening of new technology in my book!

The girls....

The boys...

Who's the "bad guy?"

"Go Andrew!"

Thank you David, for challending my son in the hula hoop contest.  Sorry you lost!

The Great Sports Debate

I received two notes yesterday and was struck by the paradox of their messages.  The first was the monthly mailing from my son’s school.  On the front page was a message from the headmaster which is usually a good read.  The theme – Don’t Overdo It – applied to over-parenting.  He wrote:  “Over-parenting, in our immediate environment, can take many forms.  For younger students, examples can include:  6 a.m. or 9 p.m. weekday ice skating practices for various town/select teams or even private power-skating lessons.”  There were a few other examples listed, like intense tutoring sessions.  When I read this, I breathed a sigh of relief.  My husband and I grew up in the Midwest.  The sports we played at a young age were through churches and country clubs.  We didn’t grow up in an area where kids were playing travel sports in first grade, practicing daily on sport courts and ice rinks in their backyard, or working with private coaches on a weekly basis to improve their skills at warp speed.  Some of the best athletes at my high school emerged at an older age.  Some had never played a sport until middle school, and then became the star wrestler, runner and basketball player.  But that was before the publication of books like Malcolm Gladwell’s Outliers and Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mom.

The second was an email from the Athletic Coordinator of an organization where my first-grade son and third-grade daughter play hockey.  We chose this program for my children’s introductory year to the sport because it was part of an organization whose mission is to, “enable all young people, especially those who need us most, to reach their full potential as productive, caring responsible citizens.” 

The coordinator’s email read, “Parents, We have made a few changes that will affect the next few weekends.  1st change is that all of next weekend Feb. 5, games have been canceled and instead of the games the coaches have chosen 2 All Star teams to showcase the players hard work and dedication to success thus far this season.  The All Star game will take place this Sunday Feb. 5th  at 3:15PM.  The All-Star Rosters are attached and will be posted on the bulletin board in the rink.”

When I read this, it struck me as ironic that the headmaster of an all-boys private school would dissuade over-parenting with private coaches and intense practice schedules at a young age, while the local sports club would not only encourage it, but would penalize the kids who don’t have that opportunity by canceling their games last minute and denying them access to their ice time.

This irony represents the great sports debate that my husband and I are currently facing.  Do we succumb to what is going on in the sports leagues around us to give our children every opportunity to excel at sports they enjoy at an early age?  This means less time together as a family since we’d be traveling in different directions on the weekends and less vacations to foot the steep bills for private coaching and multiple sports leagues.  It also means our kids could be exhausted at school due to 9:30 p.m. bedtimes and 5:30 a.m. risings. 

Or do we draw the line and let them face the consequences of being less skilled than their teammates, having games canceled last minute, being called out by their coaches for not “working hard enough,” because they aren't on a second travel team, etc.  I realize we could let them choose by taking them to the All-Star games this weekend and sharing with them the Athletic Coordinator’s message, but at ages 6 and 8, I don’t know that they can fully comprehend the true costs to our family or what the possible rewards would be.  Could they end up with a hockey scholarship to college or a big bonus as an NHL player someday if they give all of themselves to the sport now?  Could they end up with a serious injury from being checked in a high school game?  Even I, the parent who should know better, can’t answer these questions.

Personally, I have appreciated the sports I played growing up for their life lessons such as how to work on a team, how to win, how to lose, how to strategize, how to be a leader, how to be a follower, and how to have fun while accomplishing a goal.  Am I under-parenting by identifying such simple goals for my children?  Will simple goals prevent my kids from being able to play sports in their elementary school years?  I guess it depends whose point of view I consider.

Family Induced ADD

F.I.A.D.D. is a big problem in my house.  Before I had children, I’d heard about baby brain (when your brain turns to mush after childbirth).  Whether it’s a real condition or whether I lost some brain cells due to the lack of sleep, I definitely became more forgetful after having children.  I've misplaced keys, library books, grocery items that I know I put in my cart, invitations to events, and school flyers sent home in my kids' backpacks.  Furthermore, I am easily distracted and seem to have difficulty completing tasks that require my full attention. 

A few months ago, one of my friends suggested that she suffered from Mom ADD.  When I Googled the subject online, it came up with a bunch of articles geared toward moms who had been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder when they were younger.  This is not the kind of ADD that my friend and I have.  We did not experience these symptoms before age 7, we developed them after age 27.  Our ADD is specific to our situation – being a mom to multiple children.  It’s what I call Family Induced Attention Deficit Disorder (F.I.A.D.D.).  Take tonight for example, as I was baking Costco pizzas and chopping fruit for dinner my daughter and her friend came running into the kitchen squealing with delight that they’d just finished filming their latest movie – Adventures in Atlantis – and launched into a long summary of the movie (which took about as long as the 15 minute movie is).  As this was going on, my son came in saying, “Mom, watch me!  Mom, time me!” as he tried for his personal best handstand which took 23 attempts.  The commotion caused my 2-year old who’d just drifted off to sleep in the family room to wake up crying.  She cried through dinner.  The pizzas cooked longer than I would’ve liked.  The dry cleaning delivery man arrived in the middle of all of the activity and I forgot to put the clothes away, which didn’t make my husband happy.  My friend called with a change in plans for the weekend, but I can’t remember what the new plans are because I didn’t enter them into my calendar right away.  I was too busy timing my son’s handstands, which is why the timer didn’t go off when the pizzas were done.  And the cordless phone is missing.  I think it might be buried under the pile of chiffon prom dresses on my family room floor.  Oh well.  What can I do?  I have F.I.A.D.D. 

I don't know what the cure for F.I.A.D.D. is, but if it involves the elimination of the chaos that comes from being mom to three exuberant children, I'm not interested.  The people around me are just going to have to deal with my forgetfulness. 

My daughter, wearing my junior prom dress, and her friend summarizing their

film as my son does handstands in the background.

My 2 year old expressing her discontent at being woken up from her nap, all through dinner

Accident Prevention

It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged.  With three small children, two new schools and a new house, time has gotten the best of me.  However, recent events have encouraged me to add to my blog because I cannot make sense of them.

On Christmas day 2011, a horrific tragedy occurred less than 15 minutes from where I live.  A house fire took the lives of three small children and their heroic grandparents who never left their sides during the fire – I’m sure a small comfort to their living parents.  As a mom, there is nothing worse I can imagine.  To lose all of my children on one day is inconceivable.  It has my community in an uproar.

I remember a number of years ago, seeing the cover of a PEOPLE magazine in an airport with the headline, “EVERY PARENT’S WORST NIGHTMARE.”  As a parent, I promptly bought the magazine to read about what my worst nightmare could be.  I learned that it couldn’t be my worst nightmare, because it couldn’t happen on my watch.  Parents had left their 3 year old daughter, Maddy (who was the same age as my oldest daughter), and one and a half year old twins alone in their room unsupervised while they went out to dinner at their resort in Portugal.  They came home to find their 3 year old missing.  Tragic, yes.  Irresponsible, yes.  I was only slightly relieved that it couldn’t happen to me because I would never leave my young children at home without myself or a trusted sitter.  I felt terrible for the family and the missing girl.

Fast forward to the news on Christmas day this year.  A mother celebrating Christmas with her boyfriend and her three daughters and two parents loses five of them due to a tragic fire.  Every parent’s worst nightmare, right?  Yet, hers was highly preventable on several counts.  First, she didn’t have working smoke or heat alarms in her house and knowing this, lit a fire in the fireplace.  Second, she hired her boyfriend to renovate the house, who wasn’t licensed in the state of Connecticut to do so, so things were not done correctly.  Third, the boyfriend was given the task to dispose of the ashes in the fireplace on Christmas Eve and he, a builder, disposed of them against a main wall of the house that his team had recently constructed, which quickly ignited into flames.  Fourth, her family likely didn’t have a fire safety plan (how to exit the house and where to meet in the case of a fire).  Apparently, she and her boyfriend fled the house and he tried to go back into save her daughters.  According to early news reports, he had two of her daughters with him but lost them in the fire.  I cannot imagine how that is possible.  Two scared six year olds able to overpower a very large 40+ year old man and run away from him so that he had nothing to do but save himself.  I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I don't know if I could accept the fact that someone I loved either abandoned my children in a fire he started or made up the story that he had gone back to save them if he didn’t.  It certainly makes one of the latest PEOPLE magazine stories I’ve read seem more important – Mark Anthony trying to prevent Jennifer Lopez from allowing her children to spend time with her new boyfriend.  This may cause a new clause in divorce cases where anyone who spends time with an exes’ children because of a new relationship, must sign a responsibility agreement for your children or be forbidden to spend time with them.  I bet that the ex-husband who lost his three daughters to the fire caused by his ex-wife’s boyfriend would’ve done anything to prevent the tragedy, including such a clause.

I read that the family is starting a foundation for their daughters – a beautiful thing to do.  I hope that the foundation helps to promote accident prevention (such as fire safety awareness).  I’d love to see legislation changes that require things like working fire alarms and carbon monoxide detectors in any inhabitable building and proper disposal of ashes, etc.  Here is some information about ash disposal to help prevent such a tragedy in the future:

According to the National Fire Protection Association, many house fires are caused by improper removal and disposal of ashes and embers from a fireplace or wood-burning insert or stove. Ashes should be removed with an ash shovel and placed in a metal ash container with a bottom edge that keeps the base of the container off of the floor. The container should be covered. then taken outside. Ashes should be placed on the ground or on a concrete structure where no combustible materials such as leaves or twigs are near. The ashes should be thoroughly wetted with a hose or take a container of water along with the ashes, pour water over them, then cover the ashes with dirt. Ash containers are available at specialty hearth stores or online.  Ashes can smolder for days.