Jack Kneads A Cookie

Screen time is a sticky topic in our house. The 13 year old boy in my home does not like to have limits imposed on his screen time.  And he has a variety of screens to tempt him.  The TV, of course, and the computer and his Nintendo DS and his Wii and his phone and his iTouch...

Of course, he thinks I'm mean because we do not have an XBox 360 Slim and he can't have friends over without it because they will all be bored and have absolutely nothing to do.  If you are not lucky enough to have a teenager in the house you probably think I am making this up or exaggerating but sadly, it is true.

The other day his friends came over and they were all sitting around playing with their phones and not even looking at each other.  "That's enough." I told them.  "Turn those screens off.  You are all smart kids.  Surely you can find something else to do." 

And then, after my little pep talk (or fun-crushing lecture, depending on your perspective) I did something very dumb.  I left the house.  When I returned, the boys were very excited.  They were packing up pitchers of lemonade and plates full of cookies and brownies onto a wagon and heading up the street for their very own Lemonade stand. What entrepreneurs!

Then I went into the house and saw my kitchen. Wow.  Maybe sitting around texting each other wasn't so bad after all.  Dirty bowls, measuring spoons, cookie sheets and brownie pans sit on every counter.  There is a thin layer of sticky lemonade powder everywhere and my feet are sticking to the floor as I walk. 

Mess aside, I was proud of them for thinking of an idea and following through with it.  I head down to the corner to patronize their business and buy a cookie.  "Mom, I had a little trouble with the cookies," Jack tells me.  "I just put all the ingredients in the bowl and then I realized there were steps.  I couldn't figure out how to mix everything up so I ended up using my hands like I was making bread."

Kneading cookie dough--that's one way to solve the problem.  All told, the boys made about $12.00 each and they did come back to clean up the kitchen, sort of.  I think they've cleaned me out of flour and chocolate chips but they had fun and they learned a lot about working together and the importance of following a recipe.   If I'm lucky, years from now they'll remember our house as one where they could be creative, play games and have adventures, instead of the boring old house where there were limits on screen time.   If so, it was worth all the lemonade dust on the floor.

Disclaimer: Credit for the witty pun goes to my friend Dave who said he often "kneads" a cookie.  One reason Dave is so droll and intelligent is that he limits his screen time and reads a lot of books. 

Too Short Summer

Way back in June when summer seemed like a beautifully long stretch of time, I created a few summer goals for myself.  I really wanted to clean out our basement, weed the garden and paint Jack's room.  Well, let's be clear.  Jack wanted me to paint Jack's room.  He's wanted it painted ever since last summer when he and Sissa cleaned it out.  The only problem--no, the first problem--is that we could not agree on a color.  He kept insisting that it was his room and that he could paint every wall a different color.  I kept suggesting that we should compromise on a plan that involved fewer colors and less effort. 

Where was I?  Oh, yes, my summer goals.  I thought I should have plenty of time to relax, read, cook, swim, run and still fit in a few productive projects.  And then I blinked and it is the middle of August.  I feel like Rip Van Winkle waking up and looking at the calendar.  Where did all the time go?  Yes, I read a few books and watched plenty of Olympic gymnastics but shouldn't I have somehow done more?

I did work on the basement.  And I made a little progress on one of the garden beds.  But in Jack's room, we only got as far as removing the outlet covers from all the plugs.  I have one last week at home before we're off to vacation and then I go back to work.  If we are going to paint Jack's room, I can no longer wait for the ideal time.  The time is now.

We finally agreed on a color palette (mostly white with one blue wall and a red desk) and got started.  Have you ever painted a room with a 13 year old boy before?  I highly recommend it as an exercise in patience.  Not for him, for me.  As you might imagine, I had a very organized plan of how to approach the project.  First spackle.  Then sand.  Then tape.  Last paint.  Jack has a different view.  Just start painting.  I think starting at the top and working his way down makes sense.  He really likes sideways.  Ultimately, I have to rethink my goal of the project.  Is it to have a well painted wall or to enjoy a mother-son project together?

He'll have to move that paint can eventually, right?

Can we keep the graffiti?

I've never painted a room from start to finish before.  It's a big project and we're slowly making progress.  We've got one week to finish the job while maintaining my sanity.  Wish us luck!

Grill, Chill and a Pill

Sometimes I am not a very nice person.  Like when Paul came home from church and said he volunteered our house to host a gathering, I was less than amused.

"Grill, Chill and Devote" gives people a chance to share a meal and a devotion together.  Sure, I love the idea of different families hosting dinners throughout the summer.  It's a more casual atmosphere and a chance to meet or get to know people better.  Great idea. Just not at my house!

'Cause let's get real, people.  As casual and low-key as we try to make it, hosting dinner is a lot of work.  Invitations, cleaning, shopping, organizing.  Who do you think will end up doing all of this prep?  And we happen to have a dog who gets anxious around company.  How will he react to 20 strange people descending upon his domain? 

But I grinned through my clenched jaw and said, "Sounds lovely, honey." 

(OK, I didn't say that.  I don't remember what I said.  I probably said something along the lines of, "You did what?" and pouted for a while.   But the clenched jaw part is totally true.  Some teeth gritting as well.  I can be quite the pill.)

There is a verse in The Bible that says, "Who is wise and understanding among you?  Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom."  (James 3:13)  Humility.  Not bitterness.  Not selfishness.   Big sigh.  Deep breath.  Silent prayer.  "God, apparently I am not perfect yet.  Sorry about that and thanks for continuing to love me anyways." 
You know we love the comfort and familiarity of our "Friday Friends"--the kind of friends who don't care if your house is a mess--but our new guests would be "Sunday friends."  I looked around the house and yard with fresh eyes.  The floor could use a mopping.  Weeding and mulching the garden has been on our list for too long.  We got to work.

On Sunday our guests arrived and soon the rooms were filled with conversation and laughter.  I learned that people will talk about topics in your living room on Sunday evenings that don't generally come up in the sanctuary on Sunday mornings. I learned more about some members of our church in one night than I have in the twenty years I've been attending. 
Among other things I learned...
who has a few magic tricks up his sleeve...
who will paint your house...as long as you don't mind midnight hours...
who has a new puppy in the house...
who is sending her youngest son to UVA this fall...
who once served cat food "pate" to guests
 

lots of stories to tell

 The evening wasn't perfect.  I never did mop the floors and Tatum was being his usual self--the best worst dog ever.  But noone seemed to care or notice.  I had fun and maybe, by God's grace, I even got a little wiser.  Added bonus--my garden looks great.  If I had known our Sunday guests would be so motivating, I would have invited our Pastor over for dinner months ago!

"It's A Major Award"

And the award for Best Post Sports Team Season Award Banquet goes to...

The end of another sports season means attending another team awards banquet.  Have you, like me, ever sat through one of these seemingly endless boring events?  The coaches are well-meaning and oh, so heartfelt in their attempts to recognize everyone's achievements but the results can take H-O-U-R-S.  First we sit through the Age Bracket Awards, then the Most Improved, Best Rookie, Most Records Broken, Most Valuable, Special Events, Parent Volunteers, Coaches Choice, Spirit Awards, and don't forget the special recognitions for those Graduating from the lineup.   Meanwhile I sit through the tedious program wishing I had stocked up at the bar before I sat down at one of the banquet tables. 

In his brief amateur sports career, Jack has been quite the prolific trophy earner, racking up 18 trophies so far, not to mention a box full of medals and ribbons.  That's more than most London Olympic athletes will ever see.  I don't know where to put them all...it's an episode of "Storage Wars" waiting to happen.

the latest addition to the collection

That's why I'm presenting my own award to WGCC for Jack's Tennis Awards Banquet:

WGCC, you win a gold star.  Thank you for bucking the trend and providing us with an Award Ceremony that was fun and social.  Instead of sitting in a stuffy banquet room, we loved mingling and playing games like Beat the Pro and Bump.  Even the unskilled tennis playing family members felt welcome and had lots of laughs.  The burgers were scrupt-diddly-uptious too.  Best of all, Jerry has a future career as an auctioneer if he ever retires from his position as Head Pro.  He announced the winners of all those trophies with the skill and speed that would make Sotheby's proud.

I didn't take home any trophies myself.  There weren't any awards for "Best Chauffeur Ever" or "Most Likely To Find A Clean Tennis Shirt In The Laundry Room On Short Notice" but that's OK by me.  I don't need a Major Award.  A couple of hugs from these two will do just fine.

The Hunger Games

"Don't worry mom.  We're not actually going to kill anyone," Katherine calls to me as she skips from the house.   She and her friend like to play a game based on The Hunger Games.  In case you haven't read this bestseller, here's a synopsis: Set in the future, the former United States is now divided into 12 districts.  Each year, two children from each district (24 total) are chosen by lottery to fight each other to the death in a large arena, a televised production called The Hunger Games.  Sounds like a fun competition, doesn't it?


Kids killing other kids?  What kind of book is this?  And why would I let my children read it?  At first I didn't.   As I read it myself, I was disturbed not just by the premise but mostly the graphic details describing the deaths of the children.  I was also concerned about the relationship developing between Katniss and Peeta, the two main characters.  Their romantic bond is initially built on coercion, acting and manipulation.  In one scene, Katniss begins kissing Peeta, not because she loves him, but because she knows what the TV audience wants.  Sure enough, she is subsequently rewarded with a gift from her sponsor.   Ugh.  Not the type of message I want to be sending my own teenage son and daughter.  There are so many well written books in the library.  Surely my children could find something-- anything-- else to read.  Then the book became a popular movie.  "If we read the book, can we see the movie together?" Jack begged.


Eventually, after much consideration, I relented.   The first counter argument came from Jack's friend Josh rationalizing this type of book or movie.   "They are just fantasies and we know that," he explains patiently to me.  "When you were a kid and you saw Star Wars, did it make you want to start killing people with a light saber?"  Well, no, it made me want to put my hair in two side buns like Princess Leia but I get his point.   As a child, I had certainly watched my fair share of violence.  Every Saturday morning that sneaky Road Runner would trick poor Wile E. Coyote over and over.  What would it be this week?  A stick of dynamite tied to his tail?  A two ton anvil dropping on his head?  Still, just because I watched violence as a kid doesn't make it right.  I also tried cigarettes and making illegal left hand turns.  All that got me was bad breath and a dent in my car.

According to the American Psychological Association, there are three potential negative effects of watching violence in the media: children could become less sensitive to others' pain and suffering; children may be more fearful of their surroundings; and children may be more likely to behave in aggressive or hurtful ways toward others.  I wasn't yet convinced.

Then Jack came home from school and announced that during their daily reading time, his teacher had begun a read-aloud: The Hunger Games.  I couldn't believe it!  Here I am trying to make the decisions I feel are best for my family and then he reads the book in school.  I'm not opposed to read-alouds-- It would be different if she had chosen some classic literature like, say, Lord of The Flies....hmmm, wait a minute.   This is when I thought about the impossible goal of my trying to censor the media I expose to my children.   The reality is that they are going to be exposed to it anyway.  It's absurd and unreasonable to shield them 24 hours a day.   If they are going to read about difficult topics, wouldn't it be better if they felt welcome reading the book at home?  Don't I want my kids to feel comfortable enough to ask me questions?  Could I use the book as a catalyst for talking about values during dinner table discussions? 

I let them both read the book and then the series.  We watched the movie together and they both agreed the book is better.  (Yay, reading wins over screen time; one point for mom!)  And in the car on the way home from the theater, they began a spontaneous discussion about the characters: the decisions they made and the consequences of their actions. 

So now Katherine runs around the neighborhood with friends strategizing and hiding from the imaginary Careers.  Is it any more violent than my generation reenacting Star Wars or my mom's generation playing Cowboys and Indians?    Probably not.  And Katniss has a pretty cool hairstyle too.  Just not as cool as Leia's.

Suddenly Summer

Summer, you are finally here!  Huddled under quilts in the frigid winter I dreamed about you.  I imagined I was lounging in a stadium chair, cold beer in my hand, watching a baseball game.  Maybe I'm trading appetizers and laughs with friends at a breezy outdoor concert or planning adventures with friends and family. Mmm, I certainly dreamed of picking those first warm, ripe tomatoes from the garden, staying up late to roast marshmallows, and definitely eating ice cream...lots of ice cream.

When you arrived, however, you were not the gentle summer of my dreams.  You were a harsh, sweltering, violent summer lashing out with unbearable heat and furious storms.  Now your anger has subsided (Isn't this better?) and you've unclenched your fists a little.  See how we welcome you with open arms, gentle summer?

at the baseball game

eating ice cream

bike rides with friends

around Burke Lake Park

at the BNL concert at Wolf Trap

playing golf with family

roasting marshmallows

Summer, this is the only wild beast we need around here.  Stay gentle and stick around for a while.

The Week

The Heat:  It’s Friday and it’s hot.  We’re talking dangerous-104-degree-energy-sucking-record-breaking-heat.  I feel listless and unmotivated.

The Storm:  Friday night the Derecho arrives.  The eerie sound of strong winds awakens me and soon the power goes out. I lie awake watching as the constant lightning creates dancing light patterns on my wall.

The Aftermath:  Saturday morning I begin to realize the enormity of the storm’s damage.  As I walk around the neighborhood, I see tree after tree that succumbed to the wind.  Power lines lay on the street like spaghetti noodles.  

The Reality:  By Saturday afternoon I’m feeling helpless and isolated.  Nothing is open—not the pool, the movie theater, the gas station.  No phone lines.  No cell phone service.  Over one million people are without power-- without AC-- and the heat wave continues.   The food in the refrigerator begins to thaw but there is no ice anywhere.  We grill some of the thawed food and invite neighbors over to sip luke-warm beer and eat in the stifling heat.

The Adventure:   On Sunday the kids set up the tent in our basement where it is cooler.   Nonplussed by the lack of power, they discover their forgotten, rarely-used toys.    Soon they are chatting happily while immersed in Legos, Play Doh, board games, card games and crafts.   I have to admit, it is nice to have a vacation from the normal chores—no way to do laundry or vacuum and no sense grocery shopping!   I’m reading on the couch wearing a T-shirt and flip flops, with air-dried hair and no makeup since it would just sweat off anyway. 

The Lifeline:  Sunday afternoon the generator arrives.  We have a friend named Steve.  Steve has a generator.  When his power came back on, Steve thought we might like to use his generator.  Oh, would we!  Thank you, Steve!  We run a long, orange extension cord up to the kitchen window and now the generator is powering my refrigerator with a happy hum.  The generator is charging the cell phones and, this is very important, I can plug in the coffee pot.  I have the fleeting urge to plug in the vacuum cleaner too, but I resist. 

The Community:  All around me are signs of hope. Crews from around the country have arrived to help with clean up and repairs.   It is Monday now and we hear reports of neighbors nearby (just across Great Falls!) who have lights.  The shopping center near our house reopens and the mall has power too.   I stop by our local coffee shop and the normally quiet line is buzzing with chatter—strangers talking and comparing notes about people sharing, helping and being kind. 

The Long Haul: It is Tuesday, our 5^th day without power, and still we wait.  Tonight 85% of Northern Virginia’s power outages have been repaired and I know the trucks will soon arrive in our neighborhood.  I’m craving a “normal” routine…whatever that is.

The End:  In the end, it is the Canadians who save us.  The crew from Ontario replaced our broken pole this afternoon, Wednesday, July 4.  Today I run the dishwasher and relish my independence from dishpan hands.  Today I tackle laundry and celebrate my independence from the mountain of dirty clothes that accumulated.   Our power is back.  Time to celebrate!

Happy Fourth of July!

The Postscript:  It’s never really the end, is it?  Today is Saturday, July 7 and although our electricity is restored, we are still without our phone, cable and Internet service.    It’s the Internet I miss the most.   Luckily my friend Debbie has graciously opened “Debbie’s Internet Café” in my honor.  Sitting at her dining room table, I check a week’s worth of backlogged email and update my blog.   We survived the heat wave, the storm and the power outages.    What a week.