How to play hookie from school … in Kindergarten

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, February 9, 2010, 08:23 AM

I had another “helicopter mom” moment. This one had nothing to do with bullies, but I think the end result - unfortunately - was my son learning to play hookie from school.

It all began on a wintery morning … My husband was taking Noah out to meet the bus when he realized it was already waiting at the end of the driveway. He took Noah’s hand and quickly headed down the driveway when - splat! - they both hit a patch of black ice and fell smack on their backsides.

My husband hobbled in the door, soaked from the fall. “Noah hit his head,” he informed me.

“How hard?” I asked.

He wasn’t sure since he’d wiped out, too, but Noah had shed a few tears. Still though, my little man got on the bus.

My engine started humming … “What if he has a concussion?”

My chopper blades began whirling, I lifted off the helipad and headed for the phone.

“Noah fell on the driveway. He hit his head and we aren’t sure he’s ok,” I told Sue in the school office.

She made sure Noah’s teacher and the school nurse both knew what had happened - just incase.

An hour later the phone rang. It was the school nurse.

“Noah’s in the clinic. He says he has a headache and feels dizzy.”

Initially, I thought, “Oh-no!”

Then I remembered that my son has a tendency to be a bit … well, dramatic.

Not to mention, if I recall correctly, getting sent to the clinic for an injury is “cool” when you’re six.

Of course, the school did the responsible thing - he may very well have been hurt. And I, after all, had called and asked them to please keep an eye on him.

My husband went to pick him up.

Upon his return home, Noah, promptly dumped his back pack and made way to the couch - not to rest - but to play a video game.

“Uhm, excuse me, I thought you had a headache?” I said.

“I do,” he said pointing to his forehead (mind you, he fell backwards). “But, not all the time.”

I had to laugh.

I’d been duped into a long weekend - by a child who eagerly goes to school - and it was most likely my own doing.

Email this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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What is YOUR snow dance?

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, February 4, 2010, 02:59 PM

When you are just inches from a snow day, you may find yourself doing some pretty strange things.

About 6 inches of snow is expected to fall in the Dayton area between Friday and Saturday, Feb. 5-6, but for kids (and maybe a few teachers) the snow can’t come soon enough.

I just got off the phone with my 8-year-old son and one of the first things he said was, “We have to remember to do the snow dance tonight!”

And that made me wonder how many others out there will be doing the same, and what everybody else’s snow-inducing rituals entailed.

My sons have assembled the following process over the last couple years, having been given tips from other students and teachers:

— Wear pajamas backwards.

— Put ice cubes in the toilet and flush them down.

— Put a spoon under the pillow.

— Do a silly dance. (Some say to dance in a circle 10 times.)

I would say it has a success rate of about 30 percent, although the kids swear it is closer to 80 percent.

It should be noted, however, that it did work last month.

What about you? What do your kids do for a snow dance?

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Success in sports not just about X’s and O’s

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, February 4, 2010, 06:49 AM

This basketball season has been a challenging one for my son and me.

My son is 10 and in his first year with this select league, and I have been helping coach.

Although the experience has had many bright spots, the level of competition and how to handle it at this age has been an education — for us both.

The funny thing is, both he and I are extremely familiar with the often combative world of youth sports. He and his brother have played on multiple teams and have both been in select soccer for years.

But this basketball season has proved to be much more intense; both in time spent and emotions involved.

Basketball has long been the favorite sport of my son and me, and one at which we both excelled.

This season, the fifth-grader, a veteran of the rec center league, begged to be a part of the select program. As a result, he was now just one of many talented players, rather than being among a top few.

From a coaching perspective, it was a windfall: the head coach and I could run plays, teach the kids moves, and actually have them retain and execute what they were taught.

As I told friends at the beginning of the season, “It’s like real basketball!”

For the kids on the team, it meant more to learn, more aspects of the game to address and, most significantly, more pressure to succeed.

To this last aspect, some kids responded well and some did not. My son was among those who initially struggled.

Instead of fueling the added pressure into game-time intensity, he went the other way. And his self-doubt began limiting not only his success, but his enjoyment of the sport.

I could see this was happening, and knew what he needed to do to succeed. In my mind it was easy; just go all-out, be more aggressive and get fired up.

But I couldn’t convey that to my son in a way that was useful to him.

At first I told him: “You just need to try harder.”

But he would tell me: “I am trying hard!”

I honestly believed him. It also reminded me that I didn’t even start playing basketball until I was 13, and likely didn’t get to any great level of intensity until I was 17 or 18. He is still just 10.

So then I tried not saying anything to him about basketball when we weren’t on the court.

That made him think I was mad at him.

It was around then that I also noticed that if he scored a basket, it would spark his intensity.

So I told him to find a way to score early, knowing that would get him going.

I also started telling him just to have fun and not worry so much.

The problem with that tack was he could tell that it was just words. That even though I said that, there still was the same resounding sentiment to do well or get pulled from the game.

Since then, I have put my full support behind the “have fun” approach, although I always include “and work hard.”

I think he is starting to believe it — as are other members of the team.

At halftime of our game the other night, we were behind by about 16 points, and I told the kids on the bench: “You know what, let’s just have fun out there. Play hard, but have a really good time!”

One of the boys smiled and said, “It couldn’t hurt.”

Another one added, “Yeah, we could still learn some things.”

That made me smile as well. And, the team did much better in the second half.

At any rate, I think my son and I have both learned a lot this season — about basketball and ourselves.

Now I think we are both looking forward to more days of working hard, having fun and learning the true meaning of success.

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“Safe” car is taunting this mother

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, February 2, 2010, 02:51 PM

Many items are designed to keep our kids safe at home: gates, toilet seat locks, cabinet locks, doorknob deterrents, cushy bumpers … I could go on.

But, as a parent, I am also concerned about the safety of my car. After all, I’m hauling my most precious cargo.

However, call me paranoid, but I think my “safe” car has been taunting me.

We have a pretty long driveway. In inclement weather (or when we’re being lazy) I drive the boys to or from the bus.

We also have an infant who is forced to make this daily trek in her car seat. While waiting for the bus one afternoon, said infant began wailing, so I hopped into the back seat to console her. Naturally, the bus turned the corner at about that moment.

I attempted to open the back door of the car to go greet my sons. My attempt became frustrated tugging at the door handle.

I couldn’t get out. The car was unlocked, but I was stuck.

I pondered my dilemma and realized the child safety locks were on - so the boys won’t jump out of the car, of course.

I not-so-gracefully climbed into the front seat and scrambled out the door.

But the car wasn’t done with me yet, it sat in the garage … plotting.

This particular morning, our driveway was a sheet of ice, so we hopped into the mom-wagon to go meet the bus.

I turned the key, the dashboard lit up, the radio came on and then, nothing. I turned it again. Still nothing.

The bus was in the cul-de-sac, better hurry.

I began jiggling the key in the ignition, but it still wouldn’t turn. I “jiggled” it a little harder and the break-away key snapped off in my hand.

Noah stared wide-eyed as if waiting for me to explode into a tantrum. “Get out!” I yelled. “Let’s go!”

We began running through the frozen grass to the bus now waiting for us.

My mind reeled with what could possibly be wrong with my car.

After a call to the dealership and arranging for a tow, my husband suggested I check a few things, like if the car was in “park.”

Duh.

I must have bumped the shifter. Hence, the car’s safety feature was engaged. It won’t start nor will the key release if it is in gear.

I think the break-away key was designed specifically for frenzied mothers. Thankfully, it clicks back together.

I’m a little anxious about the next “safety demonstration” the car has in store for us.

Better get busy reading the owner’s manual.

Email this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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Texting can divide generations

By Jill Kelley | Thursday, January 28, 2010, 08:39 AM

I am among the world’s worst texters. It literally takes me 15 minutes to respond to a text with two sentences (responding is all I do, by the way). It takes me even longer if I try to insert a smiley-face.

I only communicate with two people via text. Although they are both around my age, they have one big advantage over me: They are both mothers of teenagers.

It has become common knowledge that, for 21st-century parents, there is a required technology upgrade as your kids get older.

However, unlike my kids, I am in no hurry to improve my software.

It also is well-known that texting (unlike Trix) is not just for kids. I have friends who are in their late 20s, and many of them prefer texting to other modes of communication.

These 20-somethings and even my eldest son (just barely) are reportedly members of Generation Y, among the most text- and tech-savvy people on the planet.

Generation Y comprises those born between 1980 and 2000, according to my handy-dandy, summation-strong copy of “The World Almanac for Kids 2010.”

The almanac describes Gen Y as “the first generation to grow up fluent in — and some say too reliant on — digital technology.”

This group’s unlimited texting and ubiquitous cell phone use are just functions of that fluency. They grew up with that technology, and they are a natural fit.

That is not always the case for Generation X’ers.

Those of us born between 1965 and 1979 can still clearly remember life before texting, and it is a nice memory. For us, typing out our conversations is often seen as unnecessarily cumbersome compared to just speaking into a receiver.

It is just a sign of our times.

It’s kind of like how former president Harry S. Truman never liked using telephones. Reportedly having grown up without one, he preferred to communicate primarily by writing letters — in longhand.

Also noteworthy in the almanac’s description of Gen X is that it is the latest generation not to be defined by its relationship to technology.

The almanac characterizes those of us who are now ages 31 to 44 as well-educated, independent-minded and “obsessed with pop culture.”

Unlike more recent generations, we weren’t exposed to the innumerable options and specialized knowledge of the truly World Wide Web.

Instead, most of us spent our time watching Wile E. Coyote get blown up on Saturday mornings, wearing Underoos under our Geranimals, and deciding whether we were more like Jan or Marcia.

Pop culture was our commonality, just as technology is for teenagers today.

Before us, there were the almanac-defined “idealistic and free-spirited” Baby Boomers. That group made enormous strides in civil rights, more freely got divorced and hoped they died before they got old.

When I mentioned this fact to my 8-year-old, a member of Generation Z or the Internet Generation, he said, “That’s crazy. I hope I get old before I die!”

It will be interesting to see what defines that group, born in 2001 and after — although it most certainly will involve technology.

They are “the first to grow up with a lifelong use of communications technology such as Internet, cell phones and digital cameras,” and likely will develop and utilize things beyond our imaginations today.

Maybe by the time they come out with those, I will be able to text like the wind.

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“Working mom” has change of heart, job

By Darci Jordan | Tuesday, January 26, 2010, 08:19 AM

Just more than a year ago, my husband and I learned our family would be expanding to a grand total of five.

We took into serious consideration how our lives would change, and how our two sons would be affected by this new family addition.

We came to the conclusion that it would be best for baby, and the boys, if Mommy stayed home for a while - and by a “while,” I don’t mean an extended maternity leave.

My new full-time office is my home.

Likewise, my new office wardrobe consists of fashionable knit pants and shirts with matching fuzzy slippers.

I always wanted a family, but never saw myself as a stay-at-home-mom. My priorities shifted with the birth of each child.

Being a mom isn’t exactly a new job for me, but my promotion to a mom of three is a challenging position.

There were a lot of things to adjust to. A new baby and a new routine were only the beginning. It amazes me though just how much I was missing out on.

When my sons were born, I went back to work after a few weeks. Time flew by and they grew so quickly. Some of Noah’s “firsts” were at the babysitter’s house.

With my daughter though, while time is hardly standing still, it seems like she has been here forever. I saw her first smile and remember (unfortunately) when she had her first fever.

The downfall? She’s addicted to Mommy. I have learned to do some amazing things (like make a pb&j sandwich) using just one hand and balancing a 16 lb. baby on my hip.

Try as he might, my husband just can’t make Baby happy for long. She’s a momma’s girl, but I am sure that will quickly change.

Small things have more meaning now, too. The highlight of my week is when I have to leave the house to buy diapers.

“Why don’t you buy two packages?” my husband asks me.

“Because then I won’t have a reason to go anywhere next week!”

OK, that’s a lie, but winter makes me lazy. Right now diaper-errands motivate me.

I have the best of both worlds - mothering and recording it weekly - and am truly blessed.

Maybe one day I’ll return to the daily grind I prepared for in college, but for now being there when Nicholas reaches daily milestones like dressing himself, albeit sometimes like a clown, it is worth the wait.

Email this contributing writer at Motherhoodcolumn@yahoo.com.

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Restaurant Week = Date Night, Part Deux

By LucyB | Friday, January 22, 2010, 01:50 AM

Ahhhhh … just thinking about Date Night lets a cool, refreshing wave of seratonin wash over my stressed-out mommy brain.

But with our tight budget, dining out is definitely a rarity. In fact, we visit restaurants no more than twice a month, if that. (cue the violins)

Flat-broke foodies, rejoice! The twice-a-year Restaurant Week is on the horizon, and it’s the perfect opportunity for a relatively inexpensive Date Night.

Many of the Miami Valley’s best restaurants offer a three-course meal for just $20.10. Even better: $1 from each meal goes to charity, with more than $57,000 being raised to date, according to the Miami Valley Restaurant Association’sWeb site.

Through past RW’s, we’ve enjoyed lovely meals at Meadowlark, Rue Dumaine, Coco’s Bistro, Sweeney’s Seafood, Jay’s and El Meson.

Click here to see tantalizing menus from participating restaurants, and visit Mark Fisher’s Taste blog to see what local diners think or post your own reviews.

But make your reservations now: Restaurant Week specials run Jan. 24-29.

If you want to give a subtle hint to your significant other, send a link to this blog with the subject line: TAKE ME OUT TO DINNER! (it has worked for me)

And if you miss RW this time, be sure to watch DaytonDailyNews.com’s restaurant guide for updates on the summer version of the event. Bon appetite!

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