Tonight, as AJ is in his 11th year, we went to dinner. All day he has complained that his stomach hurts and it’s cramping and it “must be a growth spurt, Mama, ’cause I just can’t get full. I eat and eat and eat.” AJ thinks his mama doesn’t understand, but as a mom who went through many of those, her last at 21 years of age, I remember them well. For dinner, I asked him to eat a lot of protein to help fill him up and some fruit. He wrinkled his nose and asked about the free ice cream that McDougals offers. It’s a small 2 oz cup, the size of most sauce containers in sit-down restaurants. Lately, he has not been getting these small treats as I am watching my carbs and I’m not keeping things like that in the house. I grudgingly nodded and said if he ate all of his good food, he could have the small, 2oz cup of ice cream.

As we ate, we watched grown adults overload their cups to 4 times the amount of ice cream allowed, many of them laughing at their cleverness as they walked away. We continued to eat slowly and AJ cut his chicken and grumbled, but he ate it because there was ice cream at the end of this gray rainbow. However, when he was done, he happily jumped up to go to the ice cream machine, pulled out his cup and…nothing. There was no ice cream left. The sign blinked, “Freezing. Freezing. Freezing.”

He turned to me with an unhappy, accusatory glare. Leon and I had already eaten our ice cream because we hadn’t spent our time grumbling about eating healthy food. “Mom, it’s out!” He turned again and managed to get ice cream the size of a quarter out of the machine, but that was it. A group of college students who had just gotten full cups and hadn’t yet received their food, and who would likely be there after the ice cream had frozen, watched him carefully and I noticed a couple averted their eyes. I wondered to myself if all of those adults who had gleefully taken much more than their share would feel as gleeful if they saw AJ’s crestfallen face.

In the past, at times like these, I would have taken him out for ice cream elsewhere, but I can’t shelter him from this stuff. This is a minor disappointment, not a major one. I chose not to fix it. I said, “Bummer. Life isn’t fair.” Leon nodded and asked if we were ready to go. “I ate it in one bite!” AJ said unhappily. “Mom, all those people were filling their cups more than they were allowed and I didn’t get enough.”

AJ, that is just how life works sometime. Life isn’t fair. Sometimes, you eat the ice cream you get and move on. Maybe grumble a little less next time so you can get more. Or be ok with no ice cream this time and some ice cream next time. Life isn’t fair. However, there are plenty of folks that would kill for the life you have on most days. Their life isn’t fair, either. It’s going to be ok.

Next time we go, we still will not do our ice cream first. Belief systems are about hanging firm even when things don’t turn out the way you’d like. It’s a hard lesson. Life isn’t fair.

AJ has always had a tender heart. We have also always included AJ in the Valentine’s celebration. He’s not a fan of giving valentines to everyone, but when it comes to celebrating those he loves? It’s on. This year, we were looking forward to truly spending time together. He’d asked for flowers because, “I’ve never gotten flowers from anyone, Mama.” So, instead of flowers, he got a bamboo plant that he could grow on his own. He looks at it and whispers to it the way I do my daisy plant. I know. It’s odd. But I’m telling you, it’s the only plant I’ve kept alive and that little bit of daily encouragement helps it grow.

He also got a new baseball helmet with his name airbrushed on it. I had no idea this was such a big deal, but my little cousin Lola did it, too! I expected a gift from my husband, but I didn’t expect anything but a hug from my sweet little guy. Or maybe a card. Some years he’s done a card. At 6:07am, on Valentine’s Day (probably lucky he waited that long), I felt a little hand shaking my shoulder and flowers were thrust in my face along with a huge box of chocolates. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mama! I love you!”

I still haven’t stopped smiling. I took pictures of my flowers. We devoured chocolates together as a family. I told everyone I knew that my son thought of me. I found out, later, that he’d spent the money he’d gotten as a gift from his NeeNee to buy my presents. They were ever so much sweeter.

If you want to know how to get to someone’s heart, show pure love and no motivation for anything in return. AJ waits all year long to buy me flowers. Leon said that almost every time they go to the store that AJ asks to get me some. I’m a lucky mom.

I get Valentine’s Day every single minute of every single day that I get to spend with my son.

Late in November, we’d gotten word that AJ had done something that indicated immaturity on his part as well as bad decision-making. We struggled with how to handle the situation and felt overwhelmed as parents. In my line of work, it can be difficult to admit that you struggle with problems too, but the main thing is that it is always easier to be more objective and to help parse through someone else’s issues than your own. After careful reflection and many discussions, it was decided that AJ needed to spend time focusing on growth and development rather than facing punishments that were already proving ineffective for him such as grounding and taking away privileges. Besides those things, we would need to add some things that he disliked doing, beyond chores, that would encourage him to focus on bettering himself as a person and, hopefully, encourage him to focus on being his best self.

As such, for the last 3 weeks, AJ has not been allowed to watch tv, play video games or play with his friends outside of school. I understand that many would oppose the last one because kids don’t get enough time to play at school and they’ve been sitting in school all day. AJ is absolutely allowed to play by himself in our front or backyard as long as he likes. What we have removed is his opportunity to socialize in the hopes that he might spend that time learning about himself or just learn that silence is ok. He has not spent time on this principle in his entire life. He is allowed 30 minutes of computer time a night for homework or to send emails to family or to decompress. If he is too busy with other things to get it, he just misses it. Period.

Beyond removing those things, AJ has added the following things to his routine: increased amounts of reading time, exercising at the gym with his daddy most every day of the week, eating healthfully almost all of the time and going to bed almost an hour earlier than he was. These were not things AJ had ever embraced and his grades were faltering, he was struggling with his focus and he was not an energetic thoughtful child as he’d been most of his life.

When AJ learned of these changes, as most kids would, we became the bad mom and dad and how could we do this to him? He was angry with us. He was angry with himself.

What has happened 3 weeks later has been a wonderful change. Because of his extra reading time, in the last 3 weeks he has increased his AR goal in reading by 300 percent and has achieved scores of 100% on every test. His teachers are floored by this. When he comes home, he does chores without complaint. He likes to go to the library to get new books because reading is really the only thing he CAN do besides spend time with the dogs. He still complains about the gym and eating, but he’s working harder at both of them and starting to see results. And the going to bed early? He’s doing it on his own. He’ll take his shower and then tell us that he’s just going to go to bed early because he’s tired. Sometimes he’ll do this 30 minutes before his new bedtime.

What I have learned from this is that AJ only thinks he misses these changes. He is a more reflective child and the little things that he used to have all of the time mean more to him when he can have them. He is allowed 30 minutes of video games tonight for his achievement in AR. He didn’t demand it immediately as he would have done a month ago. Instead, he went upstairs to read until the television is free. In fact, he may even forget about it today.

I may leave this new policy open ended. When we decided on it, that was the plan. We were going to see how long it took to see maturity taking place or some sign of reflection or better decision making. I don’t expect too much from my 10-year old. I expect proper development, manners and respect. I love him desperately, but I am raising someone who will be a solid man when it comes time for that and I refuse to coddle him when I know he can do better.

And after 3 weeks, he’s showing progress. Extreme progress. And he’s happier for it. So where do I go from here? I think we are content with how things are. Am I still the bad mom? I don’t honestly know. Am I a good parent? I think so. He’s happy. He’s healthy. And he’s growing both mentally and physically. I can’t ask for more than that.

My son, AJ, is 10 years old. He is in the fifth grade.

Ashlynn Conner was 10 years old and in the fifth grade. Ashlynn’s mother reported that, last Thursday, Ashlynn came home from school and asked to be placed in homeschool because other children called her fat, a slut and bullied her constantly. Ashlynn’s mother declined, as most mother’s I know would. Unlike most mothers I know, she did not press the issue further. The following morning, Ashlynn’s sister found her hanging from a scarf in her closet.

I’m about to get judgmental and self-righteously angry. If that kind of behavior bothers you or you want to play the “no blame” game where the lives of children are concerned because the people who knew her are being punished enough right now, you should probably stop reading.

Ashlynn’s mother, Stacy, notes that Ashlynn had come home crying from school two weeks ago because kids were taunting her. She states that she “thought her kids were strong kids” implying that kids that can’t handle bullying are weak and that her own daughter, who committed suicide, wasn’t strong because she couldn’t handle what was coming at her because Stacy’s “guidance” should have been stronger than the constant barrage of nastiness coming at her at school. I want to challenge that statement with perhaps her daughter didn’t feel supported in any environment.

Stacy noted that kids both at school and in their neighborhood bullied Ashlynn and called her ugly and she hopes that Ashlynn’s story will prevent other kids from being bullied. What stopped this mother from preventing her own child from being bullied? What allowed her to step back and let kids in the neighborhood and in her school overtake adult sensibilities and prevent her from protecting her child in her learning environment, at the very least? How does allowing the death of her child to protect others absolve her from how very little she did to protect her child?

I understand Stacy is hurting. Never, in anything she tells the press, did anything she say indicate to me that she took any measure to protect her child. It takes a lot for a child to come to a parent begging to be removed from a school environment. I don’t pretend I know what kind of child Ashlynn Conner was. I don’t know if she was a dramatic child who overemphasized everything, but I highly doubt that there were no signs that this child was struggling, especially considering her mother admitted to them. There are national laws preventing bullying in school systems. Where was this child’s teacher? Where was this child’s school staff? Where was the communication between them and the parent? You can try to justify to me that a teacher has 30 students, but not every teacher in this child’s day had no time to notice what was going on if she was being called “fat,” “ugly,” and a “slut.”

Someone explain this to me, because I don’t understand why no one is being called on the inattention to her cries for help or the inaction by any adult in the life of this 10-year old child. On a personal note, my son left his last school, on the last day of school, with his school tshirt covered in black marker thanks to two bullies in his class. I immediately contacted his principal and informed him that the teacher was notified and she did nothing. I also let him know that she’d been notified that these two children had continued to bully my son throughout the year and she’d promised me that she was “taking care of it.” I was aware of the school bullying policy and the national laws regarding bullying and that he was welcome to call me to discuss it. That teacher was not asked back to teach this year.

This year, my son started school and one of those two children was in his class and immediately started the same issues. I contacted the teacher and stated that I would like a conference with her regarding this. Within 30 minutes of school starting the following morning, both boys were in the guidance office and the issue was fixed. I can’t discuss why the other boy bullies, as it has to do with his own personal issues, but he does not bully my son or the other children at that school anymore. I stepped in when his guardian wouldn’t due to her inattention or unwillingness because I have to protect MY child.

Being an interactive parent is one of the most important parts of parenting. There is no excuse for not being an interactive parent. I have as many irons in the fire as anyone I know, and if you read this blog, you understand why. I am as involved in my son’s life as I can be, even on the days where I don’t get home until it’s time for him to go to bed.

Not every parent has the proper skills for parenting. To me, that is not a get out of jail free card when you fail your children. It does not mean that you use your story as a warning to other parents to absolve yourself. It means you buck up and take the punishment when you fail them so miserably that you’ve caused neglect through inaction or death through negligence. Where were the school counselors? Where was the mental health help here?

Absolutely, use Ashlynn Conner’s death as a warning to other parents, but don’t let this slip into just another story we forget next week. Use it to promote better policies and procedures in school. Force interaction between staff and parents. Use it to promote outreach to parents on protocol when their child is bullied and for the sake of all this is good, parents and teachers, bullying is ZERO TOLERANCE. Don’t toe the line with it. Little bullies grow up to be big bullies.

Edit: Another 10 year old girl, this one from North Carolina, has hanged herself. Jasmine McClain hanged herself on Monday after being bullied badly in school and, apparently, on Facebook (it’s possible that the sheriff just noticed kids coming forward to comment on the abuse on Facebook). She had left her school for a while to escape the bullying, but returned a month ago. Her mother says she was “unaware that Jasmine was so tormented.” Again, in this situation, I have no idea how someone claims to be unaware after removing her child from school and only allowing her back last month. I’ve already backed my opinions up in the comments, though, so please read those if you would like to fricassee me for being upset with the mother in this case. If parents and school administration are not prompted at this point to take a hard stand about bullying TODAY, AT THIS INSTANT, then we as a society need to force the issue. ENOUGH. No one is allowed to claim ignorance about this anymore. No one is allowed to blame others. We must address this and it must happen now.

Also, I saw this while I was reading last night and I thought to myself, “If this is what our special needs kids are dealing with we need to flush out our schools completely and start over.”

Edit: 11/20/11 Excellent information on what a parent whose child is being bullied can do. I found this on Suicide Prevention Lifeline, which is an amazing website. Please go look around on there. They have warning signs, a pledge to stop bullying, and a few other things that are tied to this specific topic. Plus, they are a good site to have on hand with the rate of suicide in our country.

Edit: 12/16/11 Jerome Sattler, considered a founding father where school psychology is considered because he writes the books that are considered the “bibles” for the profession, has done a great public presentation on bullying/cyber bullying that I highly recommend. You can find it here at the psychology page for San Diego State University where he is a Psychology Professor.

Sometimes adults don’t want to be adults and sometimes they don’t want to teach the teachable moments simply because they can be, well, rather exhausting. There comes a moment when the sweet little baby turns into a question machine and it is “Why?” all the time. I thrive on critical thinking, but this isn’t it. This is critical asking and critical response to my answers and when I say critical response I mean it’s often answered with, “Well that’s a stupid reason for something being that way” to which I have no clever response because it often IS a stupid reason for something being that way but I’m put off enough not to agree because I just took the time to explain WHY something is the way it is.

Just typing that caused me to wrinkle my nose and for my head to throb slightly.

So, you can see why there might be times that, when something is and explaining it is going to be a drawn out process, adults might play dead or hide. Or…in some crafty cases, play dumb. You know who you are, oh cleverest of us all. You pretend you don’t know when, in reality, you do know you just keep your mouth shut because you’re smarter than the rest of us. You clever beasties, you.

This brings me to today’s geography homework. Oh woe to me with geography homework. Latitudes and longitudes and meridians, oh my! I don’t know any of this. More correctly, I learned it well enough to take a test in the 4th grade and promptly forgot it to add such things such as America’s Funniest Home Video’s and Full House to my brain.

Today’s homework went like this:

AJ: “What is this?” (he points to Africa)
Me: “That’s Africa.”
AJ: “No, that’s south america.”
Me: (pointing to each) “NO, There’s america, there’s south america, there’s africa.”
AJ: “Why is south america there?”
Me: … (very quietly ignoring it and almost humming and rocking)

See? I could have explained the theory about how everything was joined and the plates moved or any of the various geographical theories, right? Instead, I was vewwy, vewwy quiet. I even looked the other direction intently, as if I had something that must be accomplished right at the front door. AJ, thankfully, ignored me right back and formed his own idea of why South America is south of North America. When I saw he went back to his homework, I let out a loud sigh and went back to what I was doing.

I was clever today. I lost the teachable moment, but saved a lot in sanity. I’m going to give myself this one.

Blaspheme, right? It’s true. Part of being a parent means that I have to do the hard work such as disciplining my child when he misbehaves or chooses to mess around in class as opposed to choosing to learn and distract those around him. This makes my job as a parent difficult and unenjoyable.

Lately, AJ has been testing his independence and his boundaries at school. This week he forgot something necessary at school and, as such, he ended up going to bed early and his dog was not allowed to sleep in his bedroom. In this house, one thing is always true: Wherever my child goes, so goes his dog. There has never been a more loyal dog than that dachshund to her boy.

What I knew was that the separation of the two was going to hurt one person: me. Why is this? Because AJ was going to go to sleep and I was going to be left with the whiny, leaky eyed dog that would look at the gaited stairs and turn eyes on me that were alternately hateful, pitiful and pleading. This is exactly what happened. She would go to the gate at the stairs and stand there for 10 minutes at a time while looking up at the darkened stairs and waiting for him to come down to get her. When it didn’t happen, she would come to me, grunt sadly and run back to the stairs. Her message was clearly “Please let me be with him.”

I had to say no. Over 100 times in the 4 hours I was awake after he went to bed did I say no. Eventually, she wore herself out and curled up on my legs. When I finally went to bed she calmly waited at the gate for me to allow her up. When I didn’t, she whined at me and watched me climb the stairs. I glanced at her sadly and went to bed.

Two hours later, I awoke and, eyes half closed, headed for the bathroom door. I happened to look down the stairs and she sat there, quietly and patiently, waiting for her boy.

In the morning, I cannot imagine what their reunion was like, but my son has been on his best behavior ever since and she has not left his side. He also has not forgotten a single bit of work since. Sometimes, a reminder of the people we let down by our failures can be the most honest motivator in our lives.

And sometimes people aren’t actually people but the vision of a dog that loves you more than anything standing alone in the dark waiting for you to come for her…

I admit it, and not even grudgingly: I am fascinated with conspiracy theories.

I’m not one of those people that has to follow them or go after them or do anything to spur them on. However, from the time I was A.J.’s age (9-ish), I remember being fascinated by things that were of a titillating nature. Do they really exist? Unsolved Mysteries was some serious stuff for me growing up. There were many nights, after watching that show, that I didn’t sleep. It didn’t matter if it was a school night. I was sufficiently freaked out that sleep was out of the picture. My eyes were glued to my window because there were most certainly aliens coming through it to do a probe if I closed my eyes even a little bit.

I was a naive child. My son is much smarter than I am. Even if there were aliens right outside his window, he wouldn’t for one minute presume that they would bother probing him. He’d be more concerned about whether or not they’d touch his stuff, eat the junk food in the house or make enough noise to get him in trouble. He’s a skeptical little guy. He loves shows like Paranormal State.

He’ll curl up on the couch and talk to both me and the television. I’ll be minding my own business and farming my Farmville (don’t you judge me, I love my farm!) and suddenly I will hear, “Ohhhhh, no! Don’t go in there. Mama, he shouldn’t go in there, should he?” After a couple days of this, A.J. looked at me from the backseat of the car. He’d been quiet and this usually tells me that something is coming that I’m not going to be able to explain. The gears were grinding and he finally came out with it. “Mama! I don’t think Paranormal State is real. They keep going into house after house and I still haven’t seen a ghost.”

…

…

“Mama, do you think it’s real?”

There’s the question. What’s real and what’s not?

Here’s the deal, A.J. Perception is a tricky beast. There are things out there that are difficult for me to prove exist, but I know they do. There are things out there that I think may exist that I know don’t. There are things I wish didn’t exist but do. I’ll tell you what I’ve always told you in that you need to make up your own mind.

“Well, mama, I don’t think it’s real, but I like to watch it anyway. It’s a good show.”

Well, alright then.

When I was A.J.’s age, I read everything I could find on aliens, UFOs, ghosts, Loch Ness, Bigfoot, you name it. It then, as I aged, extended to government theories. What I’ve determined is that people need to make up their own minds about things and that curiosity about questions that are on the edge of reality have led to a curiosity in research for my profession that propels me immensely.

This would explain why I’m sitting here watching a television show about the Loch Ness monster and devouring it like a starving woman discovering bacon for the first time.

Sometimes, 9-year olds have the answers that adults don’t have. I subscribe to A.J.’s theory in that I don’t know if it’s real, but I like to watch it anyway. It’s a good show.

AJ and I have a special bond. Even at 9, he longs to spend time with me every day. I’ve been sick recently and can’t go up and down the steps. He’s been sleeping in my bed to make sure I don’t need anything in the middle of the night. As I read my book, due to my insomnia, I notice that he will roll towards me and reach his little hand out so he can hold my hand while he sleeps. When he wakes up and notices that I’m there, he smiles a sleepy smile and says in a surprised voice, “I love you, Mama” and rolls back into that deep eyed slumber that involves him giggling in his sleep and talking to whatever person is entertaining him in dream world.

Dominick Calhoun

Dominick’s family, minus his mother, are working hard to enact Dominick’s Law which would increase the penalties for child abusers. The family has a facebook page that addresses the process of passing the bill and what the bill entails.

So, now we mourn the passing of Dominick and, as a mother, I fear more for my child. The idea that someone I could trust could hurt my child sends fear through me. The one thing I know is that I will die before I knowingly let it happen. Tonight, when he stretches out his hand, I’ll hold it just a little bit tighter.

Let me clarify this. I hate going to the movies unless the movie has been out for at least 8 weeks, everyone else has seen it and there is the remote chance that I could be sitting in the theater room by myself. Then I LOVE going to the movies. And I will enjoy the biggest Coca Cola there is while I’m there. Mmmm.

And the movie will be awesome until my 9-year old inevitably says, “Mom, I’ve gotta pee.”

Now, I’ve been lucky in that, well, he’s a boy. I can’t go into the boy’s bathroom and his daddy generally is a good sport about saying “C’mon I’ll take you” or threatening him to within an inch of his life that he’d “better hold that pee until this movie is over because I offered to take you to pee and you swore on your life you didn’t have to pee.” Every now and then, though, I have to bite the bullet because I’m with him at the theater without a man or because I get THE LOOK.

As I was reading an older Woman’s Day, I think it was from March, something caught my eye. A website called Runpee.com. I love potty humor, so anything that talks about peeing automatically gets my full and complete attention. Runpee.com is a website that will tell you the best times in movies to take “a break” and how long you can “break.”

This is incredibly helpful not just for those little ones, but also for people like me who enjoy the super large keg sized Coca Cola in the dark theater.

So, who is going to a really old movie with me this weekend? If you text during it, I reserve the right to throw your phone across the theater.

From page 3… (my commentary is in parentheses)
Just right (????)
Important (awww)
Legendry (mmmhmmm)
Lovable (my little sweet one)
Inaccessible (what? Does he mean in a “can’t touch this” kind of way?)
Awesome (truly)
Neat (well, we know he doesn’t mean in the vs. messy category)

From page 7….

His favorite time with Mommy
My favorite time with mom is sleeping with my mom because we get to spend time with each other. We get to do it Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. It’s nice to sleep with my mom. (Ok, I swear I’m weaning him off of this. He’s just having trouble adjusting to recent events. I can only imagine what the teacher thought when she saw this paragraph. I literally put my face in my palms when I read it.)

From page 10….

A list of Mommy’s best attributes:
1. Nice
2. Kind
3. Generous
4. Smart
5. Loves me
6. Listens
7. common (WHAT? OH NO HE DIDN’T. COMMON? WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM?)
8. Accuracy
9. Gives advice
10. Comferting

From page 14: If I had a millione dollars I would buy her a golden car. (Exactly what I’d want if he had a million dollars).

Page 19: (Perhaps the one I’m most proud of) When I’m a parent, I will read like my mom.

But the bottom line is that Mother’s Day is about how we feel about each other. AJ says:
My mom is nice.
She does homework.
She likes me.
She looks like me.
She sounds like me.
She smells like perfume.
She always loves me.
My mom is kind.

That’s my boy.

Happy Mother’s Day, y’all.

Last night, as I sat in the rain to watch my 9-year-old play, after my full day of practicum and class, I watched you make a donkey of yourself. You made me really angry, so what I am about to say is probably going to shock you and several other people, but I’ve had a really bad several months and you know what they say about my give a flip…it’s busted.

When you ran over to the umpire to not just chastise him for a call, but yell at that 17-year old kid because of the placement of the glove on the little kid’s chest, it was all I could do not to take my super strength golf umbrella and define “rip him a new one” for you without using google. Do you know what that phrase means? It means that you can push a 17-year-old kid around, but you are modeling behavior for my 9-year-old kid. Not doing the same poor behavior in front of him is the only thing that stopped me from showing you that you cannot bully everyone.

In the South, they call what you did “showing your ass” and sir, you certainly did. For the rest of the game, the parents did not focus on their children. They nervously bit their lips and watched your reactions. You were the free entertainment. Your own child, whichever poor soul he was, was certainly not focused on the game.

I have dealt with people like you before and let me tell you, they get what they deserve. Maybe not on a little league field, but in life. The manager who browbeat her staff got fired hardcore and couldn’t find a job for months. Karma is a very real thing. Last night, we all got a nice little treat of how you act, but the worst part of it was that we saw what your family puts up with on a regular basis and we felt for them.

It might be time to relax, my friend. Strokes and heart attacks are not to be messed with. Deep breathing and some time at the spa might do you, and the rest of us by proxy, some good.

Sincerely,

Me

A month or so ago, I received a book in the mail to review. Since I wasn’t Pregnant, or planning on becoming pregnant, I wondered how much I would have to add to this book to give it a review of any sort. However, I’m a trooper and when I opened the book, the time flew. I have to say that I was surprised by how into this book I really was. As someone who, when she was pregnant, read what felt like every freaking parenting book out there, I was impressed by this little tome of information.

Let’s start with the obvious: this isn’t a large book. It’s not a step-by-step “how to be dad” book. It’s not going to give you the blow-by-blow details of parenthood that “What to Expect” would give you, nor will it scare you half to death like that book will. What it will do is give you a laid back view of fatherhood written by a man who has been a single dad for a long time.

At times, the book has a crunchy, granola-like feel, but overall, the information felt sound. Some of the most important advice in the book is simple: You are not your parents and you aren’t anyone else. Do your best.

The book hits on important topics such as how to hold a baby all the way through how to talk to your kids about important things. There are aspects of parenthood such as the “how to”s and the things you never consider when you are starting as a parent such as the inevitable poop in the bathtub. Yep. Been there, done that.

Overall, I’d say this is a good book for a new dad or for a new stepdad. It is a book to give to a dad who needs to not be overwhelmed with what is happening or about to happen. If you are a dad who is anal or who likes a lot of lists or being told what to do, this book isn’t for you. But if you just need a primer and a little encouragment, I highly recommend, “Pregnant: A Field Guide to Fathering” by Gary Kleiman.

AJ does chores. I know that the idea of this may strike some parents as odd. There really are parents out there that don’t force their kids to do chores of any kind and for those parents I have a great big smack in the pants. For as much as I adore my child, he does plenty in this house. He does have a cell phone, gets to do lots of leisure activities and has all kinds of neat toys. But he does chores.

One of those chores is that he has to empty the trash cans in the house. Now, most people would just upend the smaller trashcan into the larger trash bag, get it done and move on, correct? Not AJ. AJ likes knowing exactly what I’m throwing away.

I wish I were kidding.

He’s just that nosy.

So, he takes the trash out of the trashcan a couple pieces at a time and sticks it into the larger trashbag, looking at each piece to determine whether he might want to keep that piece of trash or not. What this amounts to is him pulling out old paperclips, broken rubberbands, broken cups and pens that have run out of ink. Each of these ends up back on my end table where I cleaned them off in the first place.

When I question him regarding why he does this, he looks at me and replies, “What? We might need that later.”

I’m living with a future television star for the show HOARDERS.

It ignored me and did what phones do. Glad to see someone around here has a work ethic, because this week I want to crawl in bed with a hot man and a bowl of soup and watch The Golden Girls while I lament about how our bodies break down and it’s not fair that mucus comes out of so many orifices of the body at a rate that is unequal to the rate of liquid I’m putting into my body.

I picked up the phone and saw that it was mom, which was good because I’ve been wanting my mommy for days. I answered and was immediately accosted with the accusation that my son was NOT responding to text messages.

Let this sink in for a minute.

My 9-year old…is not responding…to his grandmother’s text messages.

Now I get to explain why this is a huge deal.

AJ has a cell phone. He’s had one for almost 2 years of a 2 year deal. He does extra chores, beyond his regular ones, to help pay for the $10 his contract costs us every month. He takes his phone with him to his friend’s house and it has come in very handy. His phone has music on it and games and it keeps him from getting too bored.

Recently, Leon and I had made the decision to allow him to have text messaging. He is only allowed to text me and Leon and those who are in his address book. Those people include family and close family friends. He may only text them with their permission and ours. This is a strict rule. He is learning sentence structure and proper communication skills as well as spelling and it seems to be helping.

When I told my mother that AJ was getting unlimited text messaging (to avoid any potential charges and because we have it on a family plan), she groaned. My mother has held out on text messaging for years. In fact, when anyone would mention text messaging, she would groan, glare at us and say “Well, don’t you dare text me. That costs money!”

My mother is not an old woman. She is not yet 50. However, she is incredibly frugal and does not buy anything that is not on sale. She gets angry about how Abercrombie has their name on all of their shirts and that my sister and I do not necessarily share her ideas on thriftiness. She has held out on the peer pressure for text messaging from friends and other family members for ages. My sister and I have begged her to get text messaging for years.

Nope. It wasn’t happening.

3 weeks ago, I mentioned that AJ was getting unlimited messaging and that he would be sending her messages.

Say what you want about the woman, but she’s a devoted NeeNee.

She called last night TICKED that she’s been text messaging AJ like crazy and he won’t text her back.

Love. It’s a funny thing.

When Leon or I am sick, he hates to go to school and when he is here, he will bring ice packs, aspirin, wet washcloths and as many hugs, kisses and cuddles as we will take. There are many nights that he went to bed on a Friday night at 7:30 because I was sick with a migraine and laying there. He would lay next to me, patting my hand, and would eventually drift off.

There is a certain sense of guilt that comes with having chronic pain–that burden that you place on the people around you. The feelings that you may have of feeling like less of a person some days often express themselves at the weakest moments and not always in the best of ways. They often present in anger, misery or irritability. AJ is immune to that when someone is sick.

This isn’t to say that he doesn’t have his egocentric “me me me” side, because he certainly does, but it has never been as strong as I expected. And I’m watching him shed it rapidly and sooner than the developmental scales predict and I wonder about the kind of man he’ll become, and how quickly it will happen. Will I ever be ready for it? People keep telling me to have more children. My guess is that they recognize that there is so much love within me for this little guy that it breaks me.

I worry less about it when I see that I haven’t done an awful job and that my health issues haven’t affected him so dramatically. As he was going to bed tonight, he kissed my cheek, hugged me tightly and said, “I hope you feel better tomorrow, mama.” Then, he gave me the dimpled grin that melts my heart and he and his hoppy little weiner dog went to sleep.

Somehow, I think we’re all going to be alright…