Monday, April 19, 2010

Nit - Pickah!!

I have never fully appreciated the term "nitpicking". That is, never until today. Now that I have actually picked a nit. I get it.

It is tedious. It is disgusting. And it seems futile. It requires meticulous, unwavering attention. Commitment. Determination. And obsession to the point of mania. And disgust. Minute and unjustified (so says Webster).

Did I mention disgust?

You guessed it. One among us has been infested (INFESTED. This is the terminology used the world over, apparently.) by none other than Pediculus humanus capitis. You may know these pests as the ever elusive, head lice.

Disgust.

Infestation.

But all the literature warns not to freak out. I wonder if ever the writer of such advice had stared into his (presumably,because after all the majority of scientific fact and literature was penned by men, right?) child's scalp to see things scurrying around. Reproducing willy nilly all over the child.

Disgust.


But I did it. Not only did I stare. I sectioned and lathered and rinsed and sectioned and lather and rinsed. And picked. And picked. And picked.

I spent the better part of 4 hours. 4 HOURS. combing through Sedona's long, tangled, long, blond, LONG, hair to remove what are affectionately called nits/lice. We laughed. We cried. We picked. Minute and unjustified. They had no business being there. But I did it. My child, my love, my dearest, is now nit free once more. All is right with the world. (Well, except for the fact that her stuffed animals are staring sadly out of plastic bags, awaiting the demise of their likely passengers). But nevertheless, our home has been restored to justice and order.

And I'm looking for my super hero name. Some preliminary ideas:

Ghost Face NitKillah
Ghost Face NitPickah
Stone Cold Steve NitBeGone
Super Bada** Lice Nixin Momma
Lice Ends to Kill
Chuck Norris


So it's a work in progress. (shrug)

What can you come up with?

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Okay fine. Here's something cute.



Even at age 4 when labeling tends to be a BIG hit (for a certain little girl I know anyway*), Jordan never labeled anything. Is this what 11 is all about? Territory? Staking your claim? Colon health? Or is it just that the boy REALLY likes Raisin Bran?
The world may never know.


* Did I ever tell you about the labeling? Scribbles on bedroom door "Saaaaays . . . Sedona's Room, Mom. What? It IS my room." Draws on hallway wall "But its our FAMILY, Mom!" Draws stick people next to her dresser, just out of sight, "They are my REAL friends, Mom".

Obsession (not the perfume, no near nude photos)

So I've become obsessed with this notion of performance. Funny I should question it here for all to read. . . but it was inspired in part by facebook. The amount of ink already spilled on this subject is immense but I thought I'd throw my two cents in anyway.

Disclaimer: Asking questions. Not espousing truth or claiming to have figured it all out. Asking questions only. Don't get all bunched up.

Are we deluding ourselves if we think that our presence and participation on social media sites isn't changing the way that we live?

How can the immediate audience of hundreds or even (gasp) thousands not change the way that we interact with the flesh and bloods beside us?

Does our writing of our realities change with the incessant request for feedback from our audience? Do I understand my hair in the wind differently today because it might make an interesting post? Someone might like it. Someone might see me. Have I lost the simple beauty of my experience because I am always evaluating how it will play to my fb audience? Or does it somehow become more beautiful when shared with so many others?

How do different personalities negotiate this performance differently? Consciously or unconsciously?

None of this is to suggest that facebook or other social media sites cannot or are not useful tools and great opportunities for connection and relationship. I believe they can be. I also believe though that we may be naive if we do not acknowledge the power that they have in altering our relationships with those in our actual lives.

Do we live a separate, virtual life? To what extent do we write ourselves as characters, claiming authenticity and genuine concern for others when really we seek attention and approval?

Do we invest emotional energy in so many others that we have less for those in immediate contact physical with us? Are we able to escape, even if unintentionally and momentarily, from our everyday interactions because we can access hundreds of other, more interesting moments with the touch of a button? Can the buzz of a phone indicating that someone else, or dozens of someone else's are vying for our attention, pull us away from whatever eye contact and conversation we may have had? With what effect?

Maybe it is the things that we choose not to post to fb that tell our stories. Maybe it is only my own insecurities and fears that drive this suspicion and questioning. Maybe I would have condemned the first television, saying that it would lead to the demise of the family. And maybe, I wouldn't have been as crazy I seemed. We create powerful tools and then deny their immense power in our lives.

Disclaimer negated. I ended up on a soapbox anyway. Questioned myself clear into an opinion. (For today anyway).

This is obviously a departure from the kinds of things I usually post here. And maybe that is a perfect example of how I create the version of me, of my family, that I want you all to see. When my kids are blowing up a Peep (Easter marshmallow)in the microwave - I miss it because I'm trying to take a picture to put on the blog. My presence here infects my interactions out there in the real world.

I don't usually write anything here that requires commitment on my part - I keep my opinions and platforms to myself. Which, arguably, makes for a friendlier blog. But in my fear of not being adored, I don't share all of me or, maybe, even the real me. I play to my perceived audience. I keep it light and quirky. I may be the perfect example of what I suspect exists elsewhere. Either that or I am so riddled with self-doubt and a desire for approval that I've created a narrative here that exists only in me, one that could only be shared by those who care what other people think.

But would you dare suggest that that isn't the vast majority of us humans?

Bear with me. Recognize the absurdity of playing this out in front of all of you (aka my psychosis).

I'll be in the bomb shelter waiting for the Cold War to end if you need me.

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

A little bird poo never hurt anyone

Sedona played outside for hours yesterday and it wasn't until a friend asked what was in her hair that we discovered the poo. She continued playing, planning to deal with it after dark, squeezing every last drop of sunlight out of the day.

And so the sun went down, and dinner needed to go on the table. Sedona asked to help and I replied, "No, you need to go get in the shower. You have bird poo in your hair."

She filed obediently out of the kitchen, presumably to get in the shower.

She returned just a moment later wearing a hat and simply stated that "now no poo will fall in the food. Can I help?"



How could I say no?

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Old Spice: Long Time Rep turns Sponsor

While there is no doubt that Old Spice has long since been the official, spray on, masculinity product it isn't until this afternoon that I learn just how far the Ol' Spice has come.

They are now sponsoring puberty, not just manhood. And they are doing it by way of the "Always Changing: A Boy's Guide" which Jordan just so happened to receive during his human growth and development class today.

Puberty: Brought to you by Old Spice.


Are you kidding me?! It is printed on EVERY page. And if that wasn't enough . . . it reads like an infomercial.

"To stay looking and feeling your best, take a bath or a shower at least once a day. Any time you get sweaty, you should bathe more often. For 8-hour odor protection, us Old Spice Red Zone Body Wash. Then grab some clean clothes (body odor stays on clothes) and apply Old Spice Red Zone Deodorant to help keep body odor away. If you are concerned about underarm wetness, try a Deodorant/Anti-perspirant like Old Spice Red Zone High Performance Solid that fights not only odor but wetness too."

I did not make that up. Straight outta the book, featured prominently on page 15 alongside a near-infant who presumably is now struggling with body odor.

This consumer driven curriculum is only more surprising when the Old Spice pamphlet is taken in conjunction with the other materials that Jordan received today. "Growing Up and Liking It: Greg's Story", the groundbreaking work first introduced in 1972 and last updated in, oh um, 1992. Only today, they are copies of a copy of a copy quality photo copied, crooked stapled booklets. Little hard to read. But really, what does it matter? We've got the Old Spice version, after all. Why invest in quality educational materials when we've got the very real opportunity to boost sales and increase local families toiletry bill by 25% (have you SEEN the way an 11 yr old applies products - all or nothing, baby. I either will not wash myself or I will use the whole damn bottle of body wash in a single shower.)

Is anyone else at all surprised by this?

Now don't get me wrong - the physiological changes that adolescents encounter have not changed all that drastically in the last 30 years. But hasn't the way that we talk to our children? Hasn't the way that we talk in general?! You should see the vernacular used in this here handy dandy booklet. Not to mention the fashion sense demonstrated in the photos. Wait. Nevermind. The copies are so blurred and blackened you can hardly see that striped sweater vest being worn by one very popular, very responsible young man.

Thanks, Old Spice. The scent of men (and now boys) for 73 proud years.

I couldn't not do a little bit of research before (okay, midway through) ranting about Old Spice and I cannot do justice to the marketing materials I just found. You'll have to go look at them yourselves. Oh man.

Rant complete.


But SERIOUSLY?!!

Thursday, April 08, 2010

Landscape of a 5th grade romance

"You shouldn't even be asking me these questions. Dude, I'm going out with Maddie. I like Maddie. You have no business even asking me who I like more you or Tori or who I would want to go out with. I've made my choice so just stop. There is no way for me to answer that."

A proud mother overhears 11 yr old boy wrestle with pushy girl-friends on the phone who aren't pleased that he is now 'taken'. Should this kind of thing be an issue for 11 yr olds? Probably not. They should probably be playing Legos and dolls, but the sad reality is that they aren't.

And I thought that it was a sign of the declining times. Something in the milk. Societal decay. And then I saw the red and white ruler that still stands in the pencil jar on our desk. Link Elementary School, Elk Grove Village, IL. and on the back "I LOVE Matt Naase".

I was in second grade.

And I remember so clearly the infatuation with this silly red headed, freckle faced boy. By third grade he was "going out" with someone else. I suppose the end of fifth grade is every bit as appropriate for infatuation as the second grade was.

So it seems that "going out" consists of an occasional hug and once, just once, a kiss on the cheek. They share secrets and try to be even nicer to each other than they are to other people. (This, straight from the source)

Have these kids got it figured out? Take a look at the relationships all around us. . . what if we were just nicer to the people we were somehow bound to? What if we exchanged secret kisses on the cheek?

And so I reflect on the sweetness of puppy love. And while I would rather he not have discovered such a fascination with girls until a little while later .. . .he is having this conversation right next to me. He told me about the hug (and the kiss). And I can't ask for more than that kind of honesty. I can't ask for more than a kid who tries so hard to be true to the girl he likes, who won't give in to the squirrely little girl tricks. Maybe his character/honesty will carry us through the tougher years ahead.

Maybe.