Gender Issues

Three separate things occurred all in one week. I saw a link between them, and they all individually and as a whole made me laugh.

First One
I should start this one with a bit of background. My dear mother swore like a sailor. She never censored herself in front of us kids. In turn, she allowed us to swear occasionally under the premise that it would always be at home or under our breath and never in the company of others. And although I cannot hold a candle to my mother in terms of swearing, I have maintained the same swearing protocol with Julia. I think it can be empowering for a kid to use a curse word once in a while when they want to express a strong emotion or during a well timed joke for shock value. All that said, Julia and I were walking the dogs this week. Julia was re-capping an event that had happened a few days prior that really got her ire up. She was furious at a man and says to me, "Mom, I wanted to say to him, 'Listen, Bitch!'" I explained to her that bitch is usually used to describe females.

Second One
She and Isaac play this rough WWF style wrestling game that they've named, Randy Johnson (Randy, for short). We were in a department store recently, and they started up. I walked away like I didn't know them. A few minutes later, Julia sought me out. She looks at me with a sheepish grin and says, "Isaac and I were doing Randy and he accidentally [her voice drops three octaves and her grin widens] kicked me in the balls." I had to explain to her that although she has heard Isaac use this term, it is not a generic term for privates. I told her in no uncertain terms that she does not have balls.

Last One
We were in Costco at the check out. We only had a few items so we did not grab a cart. A worker was handing the paid for items to the kids to hold. At first, he handed Julia a large box that contained two drums of oatmeal (heavy but within her ability to hold). Then something lighter came down the conveyer belt, AA batteries, I think. The man says, "You know what, let's give this heavy thing to him [he hands it to Isaac] and you take this. It's easier." We walked away from the counter. Julia looked at me and says, "That's so sexist!"

On second thought, maybe she does have balls.

Guilt and Shame

Yesterday at mass, the homily focused on the difference between guilt and shame. It was really insightful. And afterward if asked, I would have told you that I was listening and would put what I learned into active practice.

Today Julia was trying out a drop in knitting class. We have two charming yarn/knitting shops in our community, The Wool and the Floss and The Knotted Needle. One is much closer to our south end of town than the other. A friend told me about this drop in class for kids at The Knotted Needle (north end). Although in my head I am clear on the distinction, all day I had been thinking it was at the shop close to home. I allowed enough time for Julia to get there pick out her yarn and needles and get acquainted with the instructor. So I pull up at The Wool and the Floss, and they are locked up tight. The lightening bolt strikes and I realize that we need to hot-foot it to the other shop. As I am making the u-turn I say, "I can't believe I did that. That was so dumb of me."

Julia says, "Mom don't shame yourself. Remember what Father Tom said yesterday about guilt and shame. Guilt is when you feel badly about something that has happened. And that's okay. Shame is when you blame yourself and call yourself names. Don't do that. It's not a big deal. We'll get there in time."

That's for real. Discipleship in action. But who is discipling whom?

Grand Ole Opry

This afternoon Julia and I attended the Nutcracker Ballet at the Detroit Opera House along with Deanna and Isabel. It was a perfect first entrance into that culture. The Detroit Opera House is so grand and opulent. Along with the majesty of the venue there was much else to take in such as a caroling choir and photo opts with Santa and a life size nutcracker. When we finally arrived at our seats, we were getting ready to take off our coats and settle in for the performance. Julia had a water bottle in her had that she needed to set down in order to get out of the sleeve of her coat. I watched her look to the left of the arm rest and then to the right. She looked to me and in clenched teeth through the side of her mouth (as if it would be in bad taste to say it outright) whispered, "I can't believe this place doesn't have cup holders."

The Daily News

Julia has started a career in journalism. It all began with a small independent piece she wrote titled, "Dogs Go to Vet for Free." In it she chronicles a trip Oscar and Felix took to our vet's office to have their anal (or ananal as she wrote) expressed. Not the most delicate subject for her debut, but a good solid piece of writing nonetheless.

Inspired by her own greatness, she has decided to take on the challenge of publishing a weekly newspaper. The "working title" was The Daily News. She spent a few days talking about the various columns. There was to be a front page, of course, and a fashion column, but my favorite was an advice column titled, Miss Know-it-All. She solicited me to write an advice seeking letter to Miss Know-it-all. I told her that I'd be delighted. I penned a quick note from A Frustrated Mom begging Miss Know-it-All's advice on what to pack for lunch for an 8 year old fussy eater.

All of this talk and planning, and yet I had seen little pencil to paper. On a car ride with her dad and I, I asked if she had actually started writing the paper. Her self imposed deadline of Friday was fast approaching. "Don't worry, mom," she chided, "I'm just trying to figure out what my front page story will be." Eager to help, her dad offered, "Hey Julia, I might have just the story for your front page. Remember when I told you the Prime Minister of Italy will be visiting Chrysler?  Well because he is the head of his country special security guards called the Secret Service came to the department to interview me." She politely listened and even asked some follow up questions (signs of a good reporter), but she was clearly unimpressed. At this point, we are pulling in the driveway and watch a few squirrels scurry across the lawn. Bobby then remembers and retells the story of a squirrel with a full-sized doughnut being chased across our front lawn by another squirrel (who presumably wanted the doughnut). We all three laughed pretty hard at that one.

At bedtime that night I asked her if she were putting the story of the Secret Service on the front page. "Naw," she replied, "No offense to dad but that story isn't that exciting. Now the one with the squirrels and the doughnut, that's going on the front page."

And so the news came out on time. She's got a modest circulation of 4 households.

She did change the name. She thought of one she liked better. And so the Kado Chronicle is born.

Let's Party!

We are fortunate to have such a close relationship with Mark and Deanna. Julia is an unusual only child. She has the luxury of two cousins who are almost constantly around. At the same time, she gets plenty of spotlight time in between from her dad and I. Sometimes on a long day when I know we are not getting together with the Grayton Kados, I wonder if she'll find enough to fill her day. Today is one of those such days. Shortly after breakfast, she disappeared upstairs. When she returned about thirty minutes later, she handed me a small piece of notebook paper. It read:

Dear Michelle and Rob [the name Bobby goes by at work], 
Please come to my party. It will be a dancing scavenger hunt. Please reply back on this paper and send it to me! It's in an hour or half an hour.

I read it and passed it to Bobby. We both replied immediately with a resounding, "Yes!" Incidentally, Felix and Oscar received a similar invite with a request for a reply. Right then, she taped triangular shaped badges to our shirts  that read: "Let's Party!"

Once she had the party together, we met in the living room. There she had a table of snacks such as goldfish, popcorn, and candies. She explained that the first part of the party involved the scavenger hunt. One at a time each one of us had an opportunity to hide four items around the house. Using a list, the remaining two people were to then look to find the items. Once this was completed, a similar game was played where-in three bags were filled with "gifts," each person was responsible for hiding one bag. Afterwards,  we were to find one bag and open it to find our party favor present. If you must know, I won a set of markers and Bobby won an Iron Man glove. Next was the dancing portion where were all able to showcase our very best moves. The party ended quietly with snacks and a family game of Trouble.

I can't think of a single better way to spend one of the last hours of this summer vacation.

Kado Triathlon 2014

Back in February when I was organizing the school Spelling Bee, I found a trophy shop that had the most adorable Spelling Bee trophy. In fact, they had lots of trophies. I thought it'd be fun in the summer to allow my kids to devise some sort of competition and award the winner a real trophy. As soon as summer started I mentioned the idea, and the kids were game.

I introduced the idea of the traditional triathlon. They were down with the swimming and biking, but not so much with the running. Much discourse occurred regarding the third and final category. The idea of using an app and creating some sort of movie was a serious possibility for a few days. When I pointed out that this really wasn't in the spirit of athletic competition, they rolled their eyes. They decided each "athlete" should have one dominant category. Swimming was selected for Julia; biking for Isabel; and basketball for Isaac. They devised a typed three page document outlining the rules and scoring. They each signed. In short, the two less dominant contestants in a category would face off. The winner of that match would then play the category's dominant player. Scoring was a 3-2-1 deal. Total score at the end of all three events won the trophy. I was named judge of everything.

We started. Each child won their category.  Isabel surprised everyone with some serious basketball agility. No one doubted that Isaac would win basketball but I thought Julia would beat Isabel and play Isaac. Fast Isabel easily won the bike race. On the way down to the park to complete the swimming portion, Julia began to pout a bit. I reminded her of the contract she signed which clearly stated, "No Pouting." Swimming was based on form not speed and she won.

After totals were tallied, Isaac won first, Isabel second, and Julia third place.

As we were packing up at the park, I said that everyone did a nice job. I went on further to compliment Isabel on her basketball skills. I said, "You surprised me. You've got some basketball skills. To be honest, I thought Julia would beat you in basketball." Julia tossed her towel over her shoulder and said (and she meant this with all sincerity), "Yeah, to be honest, I thought I'd win the whole thing."

That's the spirit in her that I never want to break.

Isaac now has his engraved trophy and the girls each have a ribbon. Julia was a bit down afterward. I told her if she ends up in third for three years in a row and doesn't pout I will give her a "Lifetime Achievement" special trophy.

Eastern Influences

Last week, Isabel and Julia cleaned and reorganized all of her Barbie Dolls. I would say that this made Julia fall in love with her Barbies again. However, prior to that, she seldom looked at,  much less played with them. Girls playing with Barbies is such a polarizing issue better left for another time. I am pretty ambivalent toward Barbie. Suffice to say, we inherited a huge lot of them, and we put them out there in the playroom. The world around her is so over abundant with things that will warp her self image it's hardly likely that Barbie will be the linchpin.

That said, last night she committed to a full Barbie fashion show. This involved many of the dolls, all of the clothes and shoes, and a spotlight (i.e a mini flashlight). I was two rooms away polishing my nails and listening in. One doll was trying to talk another into walking the runway in a Mandarin style dress. The persuading doll says to the reluctant one, "Look, it's Chinese style. You love Chinese food, and all of your toys are made in China. It's the perfect dress for you." Apparently, that was all the reluctant doll needed. She wore it to great cheers and fanfare.