Vegas baby

Earlier this month we went to Vegas for the first time, and it was so much different from what I imagined...

 One-eyed Pete and I were excited to see all that Vegas has to offer.  

Lucky for Jimmy, there's enough to see that one eye will do.

 

Who knew that really crappy limos can serve as taxis?

 Blatant nudity was expected, but to arrive in 20 minutes?  Now that's service!

  

 And some people played softball... 

 

  And Keshia and I did our best to enjoy the $7 pitchers...

                         

When we didn't win, we tested ways to lift team morale...  

All in all, we had a great time.  We're going back, by golly!  If you want in, you're more than welcome to join!

 

Masterpieces for Daddy's birthday

A salmon swimming up stream

Trevor, Ashton, and Joanna, who is Trevor's wife.

"Everybody is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid." ~Albert Einstein

Ashton is incredibly agile.  He speaks very well for his age. He throws like a major league pitcher.  Ashton can run, jump, tumble like a child three times his age.    He has a wonderful heart and an easy sense of humor.  I swear, swear, swear he is a good kid. 

However, I am continually faced with the challenge of letting him be himself, spirited and boisterous, but well assimilated.  

We were at a park playdate on Thursday night and I was that mother.  While Ashton was on the play equipment, a man walked up pointing to Ashton and addressing all within earshot, "Is this anyone's child?"  What I wanted to do is say, "Hell no!" because I knew he wasn't going to praise Ashton's daring leap down the tallest slide.  But of course I answered softly, "Yes, he's my son..."

"Well, you need to watch him because he just hit my son, grabbed his face and pushed him down the slide. He's hitting and kicking and jumping in front of all the other kids in line"

"Oh my gosh!  I'm so sorry... ASHTON!!  GET OVER HERE RIGHT NOW!  THREE... TWO... IF I GET TO ONE, WE'RE GOING HOME!" Followed by a swift, choking grab of his shirt as he bolted away.  

I wanted to cry and probably would have if Jimmy were there (it's just safer when Mr. Macho is there to protect me).  I was mortified, but beyond that, I felt so sorry for Ashton.

If he grows and continues to be the bully, kids will start avoiding him.  I can already see it happening.  On several occasions kids have announced, "I don't want to play with the mean kid," or "RUN! The rude kid is coming!"  Even though he is young, at some point it is certain to damage his self esteem.   

I remember this happening to my brother. 

Trevor is a genius, but was misunderstood growing up. Kids can be cruel and somehow he was unable to crack the playground code.  He was just not like the mainstream kids.  The scars left by those formative playground moments ran deep and effected his self confidence for many years. Luckily, as Trevor grew to adulthood he learned how to harness his talents and gain self confidence, and finally everyone around him sees what I have always seen: the coolest guy on the planet. That said, it was a long and lonely process for all of us, especially Trevor; something I do not wish on anyone.  

At this juncture, I am lost as to why Ashton is so physical. Almost half the time we are with other children, he is attacking someone at one point or another.  

I've researched kids' aggression and reasons it might occur: dominance, verbal inadequacy, or ADHD.  

When I've talked about this with friends, I keep hearing the "well, he's two and a half," and "embrace what makes him different."  I get that he's two and a half.  I love what makes him unique.  But there has got to be a way to reign in his inappropriate violence.

No matter his personality type, he shouldn't kick two kids' asses in one trip to the park (Especially since kid #2 after face-grab dude was like 8 years old-- and this time it included biting).  

Is discipline the answer? I feel like all I do is discipline...  Can there be a greater issue rearing its ugly head?  

Cultural divide

I know I'm more laid back than most; in fact, that's one of my favorite personality traits.  Typically, I don't identify with more rigid parenting, and have recently encountered another cultural divide over the prevention, treatment, and socialization of sick children.

I think Devon Corneal hits the nail on the head: people are obsessed with keeping their kids from getting sick and I think their kids suffer because of it.

Let me explain: I don't necessarily want to be up all night with a whiny, feverish child, but I tend to think that comes with the territory.  I don't necessarily want my child to be uncomfortable or hospitalized (God forbid), but I also don't want to keep the doors locked, windows shut, parkas on, with the hand sanitizer at my hip. I'm old school and believe that our immune system needs some exercise.  Plus, life is too short to be worried about what lurks on door handles and ball pits at McDonalds (pretty sure those are illegal now, but I remember hearing ridiculous warnings about razors and poop...).

What I find most amusing about germaphobes is the lack of understanding of what actually gets people sick (Let children out of the house; the weather doesn't get you sick). Like with the flu, we are actually contagious before we are symptomatic, so your kid's likely to get the crap even before I have the chance to put my kid's snot under the microscope to determine if it is a cold or just allergies.  So then what?  Should I apologize and grovel until your kid sick-bombs my kid?

I've had mothers call me and tell me about their kid's rapid onset of swine flu after a play date.  That's kind. I'm glad you called and sincerely appreciate the forewarning as it gives me the chance to stock up on creamer and children's ibuprofen.  But please don't apologize.  I don't hate you for living outside of a plastic bubble.  It's life, man.

There is a point where I draw the line: don't bring your whiny, feverish, uncomfortable child over to my house.  And why would that be?  They're super annoying.

Calm reached in the chaos of traffic.

I visited my former workplace last week and met with coworkers for lunch.

Jimmy told me not to go, and I was pretty sure he was right, but I was invited to lunch and am too nice to say no.

Jimmy was trying to protect my heart because he worried that I would become emotional.  He's not that off base...  He worried that if I found out the the organization was flourishing, I would feel like a failure because my replacement is better than me, therefore, I'm a loser.  If I were to hear that organization was failing, I'd regret leaving and worry that the children the organization fights for were suffering in my absence.

I was nervous to meet the girls.  Will I feel like a fool when I talk about playdates and poop schedules?  Will my heart break as they romanticize about their successes in my absence?  

It didn't play out the way I thought.  As I drove towards Capitol Hill (at 10:30 a.m., mind you), I hit traffic.  I became frustrated.  I started driving like an ass. And then all of the sudden amidst all the chaos and exhaust, I relaxed.

I became very thankful for the traffic. The stop. The go. The orange cones. The honks. The traffic lights. The jerks.

The traffic made me reflect on how much this drive, that organization, and working for a paycheck affected my family.

Only moments after having painful butterflies, my stomach was as calm as if I were on a trip to the post office.  I held my head high, confident in the choice we made as a family, and eager to show them my kids' latest tricks and the happiness in my soul, thanks to my job as a mom.

And you know what?  I truly enjoyed lunch... especially their success stories.

Reagan is hilarious.