Reflections–teaching kids about rape

I’ve been amazed and impressed this week with the discussion about the Steubenville rape case.

Yes, there is all the judgment of how the media has handled this story. I’m not talking about that.

I read 2 articles this week that spoke about going “all the way back” to the source. How do we stop this kind of event, how do we teach kids to stick up for another person, how should we function as members in society.

The first I read was Henry Rollins post. I like, and appreciate, how he calls attention to the two convicted boys being Offenders. That is what they are, they aren’t victims, they are Offenders that are being tried and prosecuted as our society sees fit. Sure, some wanted more time, some wanted a hand slap. Me? I’m super glad they have to register as sex offenders. Still – those boys, ALL of them, need to come to grips with the reality behind them and what to do next. I can only hope (and pray) that they learned why what they did was so wrong. On EVERY level. Every action they took – the rape, the pictures, the social, the joking and condemnation of the girl – was a horrible, reprehensible, sad display of common sense and humanity.

The second was a post by a mom of boys. The post is named – I am so fucking sick of teaching our daughters not to get raped. I think it’s right on. As a mother of a girl, I will have to tell her all those warning signs and tips to keep herself safe. It’s a necessity. I honestly don’t remember my mom ever having that conversation with me. I do remember watching people in high school and learning a lot on my own. I like that this mom talks about how respect and No Means No needs to be ingrained in every person. And another person calling out that those boys are responsible and accountable for their actions. They don’t deserve our pity. They deserve our sense of injustice and anger that it happened. They need to learn why what this did was so wrong. So horribly and disgustingly wrong. So sad….

I’ve seen a handful of others posted by friends on Facebook. There is so much discussion. I’m glad there is so much discussion.

Then yesterday, one that’s so close to home….

I’m on an alert list for any sex offenders moving into a certain radius of our neighborhood. It’s a frightening aspect of parenthood that I would rather plug my ears and scream LaLalaLaLA!!!!!

But that isn’t reality.

The reality is there are NINE registered sex offenders within a TWO MILE radius of my house. NINE!!!!! Within a TWO MILE radius!!!

On a normal day, that makes me incredibly sick to my stomach.

Yesterday, I received an alert of a newly registered sex offender. I hate that I get new alerts. I hate clicking on these links to see a picture of their face. I hate reading what they were committed of, thinking about what did they actually DO in the first place?! (think about that one, does it occur to you that maybe the actual act was worse than the conviction? I do….and some law enforcement officials will tell you to think about that too)

I was shocked. So shocked. So sickened, to click the link and see a young boy’s face staring back at me. Seriously – a boy. A now 13 year old boy. Convicted of “Rape of a child in the first degree”. Do you know what that means exactly? I do now:

RCW 9A.44.073

Rape of a child in the first degree.

(1) A person is guilty of rape of a child in the first degree when the person has sexual intercourse with another who is less than twelve years old and not married to the perpetrator and the perpetrator is at least twenty-four months older than the victim.
(2) Rape of a child in the first degree is a class A felony.

Oh my fucking GOD! This (now) 13 year old had sex with another child who at the time was LESS THAN 12!!  And 24 months younger than this boy!! (those are all ANDs, not ORs) So let’s say he was 12 when the rape happened. This other child was 10. TEN!!!!  Even if he was 13 at the time, this other child is still ONLY 11.

Now – granted – it is not lost on me that this boy and the other child may have had what they considered consensual sex. They might have. It is just as likely that it wasn’t consensual.

I applaud the parents of the other child. To go through and press charges against this (now) 13 year old. I can only imagine how hard it would be for them – how that might impact their own child, admitting it happened in their family, backlash from the community, etc. etc. etc.

I think it is a timely and perfect example of telling society, this is NOT ok! I will NOT stand for this!

Now this 13 year old boy has to live with the consequences. Forever.

We should stand up and demand the change to make it better, change to stop us from having the conversation and debate in the first place…. It’s not extreme, it is what is required!

How We Treat Others

Last month, A’s school sponsored an assembly called Rachel’s Challenge. There were two session types, the K-4 grades had a discussion about kindness, how you should treat others, and how they can start their own chain reaction. The 5th & 6th graders saw a more graphic (if that is the right word) presentation that also talked about Columbine.

There was also a parent’s presentation that explained more about what our kids saw that day, and how we can support them to do the right thing. My understanding is what we saw was alike to the 5th/6th graders. I can see why it is tailored to grade levels. They showed video footage. We heard first-hand accounts of what happened that day, how now adults, then teenagers, were personally impacted, fearful and shocked by what happened in their community.

The story was much more about how Rachel lived her life before Columbine. How she cared and reached out to all people around her. You know the one, that kid that always invited the new student to their table at lunch. The kid that stuck up for everyone regardless of why they were being bullied, teased and picked on. The kid that was so sunshiny positive, my cynical pessimistic would fake gagging on the floor.

I was obviously not the Rachel in my high school.

Well, not sunshiny positive. There were times I stuck up for others. When I was a Senior (was it Senior year? I can’t honestly remember) David Toma came and talked to us about the danger of drugs. How that one decision could lead to a life of failure and despair. His stories were horrifying. The one that sticks in my mind were the new parents so high and paranoid, they literally put their baby in the microwave and turned it on. I can still remember where I was on the bleachers and the disturbingly graphic account he gave showing up on the scene as a police officer. Those kinds of stories don’t leave so easily.

Anyway – the school had counselors and all sorts of support options around the rest of the week. I remember being on the bus home and some kids started picking on this one particular boy. Because this boy went and talked to a counselor. They were poking fun at him and asking what was so important to talk to a counselor. I yelled at them, something along the lines You have no idea why he went, and it’s none of your business. You have no idea what is going on in his life that he needs to talk to someone. And you should leave him alone. This kid, we weren’t friends. We were friendly, but definitely didn’t travel in the same circles. The boys shut up, more mumbling under their breath probably saying things about me. But who cares.

Somewhere between 6th and 9th grade I grew a really thick skin. When I was in 6th grade I went into a brace for scoliosis. Just like Joan Cusack in 16 Candles.

I kid you not – I wore a Milwaukee brace and I kinda sorta related to Joan’s character in the movie. Except the part of hooking up with the exchange student. I had no hooking up when I wore the brace. I don’t think boys noticed me.

But the Mean Girls did.

There was one crowd of girls, I think 3 of them, maybe 2. I remember the Leader that would get up in my face. Super close. Uncomfortably close. She would say really awful things to me. About how ugly I was, how my brace made me a freak, how I would lose all my friends and no boy would ever want to date me. I would go home and cry. Every day. It was horrible.

After a few weeks, my parents found out. We had a family meeting and I remember my Dad being so angry. He wanted to call the principal. Get this girl, and her parents, into a room and Tell Her What’s Right and make her see what a horrible person she was and make her apologize. That made me cry even harder. I begged him to not call. I told him it would only get worse. I promised him it would only get worse. I don’t remember what else, if I said I would stay in during lunch or hang out with my friends somewhere else. I really don’t remember. The bullying continued. It even got worse. And then the school year was over.

So why am I going on this ugly trip down memory lane?

I recently finished reading Thirteen Reasons Why. The book was haunting. From the back cover:

Clay Jensen returns home from school to find a mysterious box with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers thirteen cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker, his classmate and crush who committed suicide two weeks earlier.

I could barely put this book down which says something, I’m such a slow reader. To hear the voice of a teen contemplating, and following through on suicide was too close to home. Not the suicide part, not at all. The torment and psychological drama. Too close to my own childhood dealing with Mean Girls, too close to what I see my 9-yr old, my 4th grader, dealing with already.

I kept thinking back to what I saw in the Rachel’s Challenge presentation. How those words can hit a teenager so hard. How that simple act of kindness, that to some doesn’t even feel like kindness, but how they live their life. To find the best in everyone. To see the positive intent. and believe the world could be a better place by creating a chain reaction.

My teen years are way behind me. To revisit them is only a lesson in how I survived and became stronger for any adversity I faced.

My kid is another story.

What sort of lesson I can teach her now, as a 9-yr old. Dealing with Mean Girls. In the 4th Grade. So much earlier than I ever dreamed of dealing with when I was in 6th, 7th or 8th grade. Junior High is the worst. I want her to have enough thick skin that this Mean Girl thing can blow over. That she can find her true friends that will stand by her, and stick up for her.

It is truly frightening to be a parent when there is so little we can actually control, or protect.

The best I can do now is prepare her for what lies ahead. To lead by example. Talk to her every day about how she is feeling and what she struggles with socially. To instill belief and faith that I’ll be there for her to listen and help her through the rough times. And celebrate the resulting success and happiness.

My super, wonderful, caring-beyond-words Kidlet

My life the last few weeks has been consumed by Auction talk/planning/execution. It had taken over vast amounts of time and stress. My family has been very patient with me. Particularly A.

I pretty much tell her on a daily basis that I know it’s hard, that my stress has nothing to do with her, that I’m doing the best I can. I’ve gotten everything from “I know Mom” to “I HATE the auction!!” or “It is almost over… Finally!”

Earlier this week she had Norman slip a note under my pillow that I wasn’t supposed to read until the morning. He is in London for a 5-day trip and returning home tomorrow. He’s been traveling a lot lately and that is putting a different strain on A.

If anything, that kid has been the most mature “adult” in the house.

And here is her note:

Hi Mom. Please don’t think about the auction it will make you unhappy so have a good day. Think about work, dad (Norman) cupcakes, going out to dinner maybe and me. I love you so much.

Love, A

OK – how freaking cute is it that she put Norman in parentheses?! Like I don’t know who dad is (cutie girl)

But seriously – how perceptive is my kid? She hit on all the major points, particularly the cupcakes. She is a care-taker type more than her mother or father will ever be. I suppose every family needs one – who ever thought it would be the youngest family member.

I love my awesome kidlet!

Be Kind to Yourself

The best session I went to this week at the Women’s Conference was entitled “Commit, Create, Catalyze” led by Nan Crawford. A few things she spoke about stuck with me, probably the most profound was “Be Kind to Yourself”. She told a story of how close she is with her parents. How every time she talks to her dad on the phone or sees him, instead of saying good-bye, he says to her “Be kind to yourself”. It seems so simple, and yet is so hard.

Like many other motivational-type speakers, she remarked on how hard we are on ourselves. Seriously, what I tell myself in my head, if I ever spoke those words to another human being, I would have no friends. No second guessing that at all. Still, here I am saying those things to myself.

I was saying to Norman this morning that I need to adopt that in my life. I think I’ll make little notes to put places like my mirror, wallet, maybe the back ground on my phone? If I see it enough, maybe I’ll start acting that way.  More importantly, I think it’s something I should say to my kid every day. She already is such a perfectionist, so much like her mom and dad. If I can start that tape in her head now at 8? By the time she hits 40 it would be a whole different mindset. I hope.

So, here I go.

Be Kind to Yourself.

Mom “secrets”

I was at the gym this morning when I saw an up-coming Today story – What’s your deepest, darkest secret? Moms confess…  Today.com and Parenting.com surveyed 26,000 moms.  Mental note – go look that up online later…

So I read the article.

Uh…..nothing surprising. Really – any mom out there look at that and feel surprised by anything they said? Shocked at how many admitted to certain actions like medicating a child or using them as an excuse to get out of stuff?  Haven’t done the former, have done the latter. So what? I’ve sent a sick kid to daycare and I often want to be left alone. Are you judging me now? How about that I ponder the “Do Over” question?

So why am I writing about this? Besides shaking my head at the honest reality of it all?  Yes! It is so freeing to be able to say these kinds of things to my closest girlfriends (and I guess now the internets).  Blogs like dooce or All & Sundry have helped in laughing, crying or figuring out tips of my own in the whole parenting scheme. Or the ah yes I remember that moment…  Like at my 2-week post partum sobbing to my doctor that I didn’t want to be a mommy that day.

But those blogs didn’t exist when I was considering pregnancy – OK, they might have, but I wasn’t reading them. There was not a Loud Voice out there of Mommy Bloggers talking about the challenges and joys of parenthood. No one being totally honest and raw about what it meant to be a parent.

I remember coming back from maternity leave, Fall of 2003 and running into a pregnant co-worker in the cafeteria. She was in the happy pregnancy stage, no morning sickness, not physically uncomfortable, she was just joyous and bubbly. I was operating on about 4 hours of sleep.  She asked me how wonderful it was to be a parent and how excited I was to have a daughter. I looked at her straight in the eye and say “No one tells you how hard it is”, she smiles, “No really, there are not words to describe how HARD it is!” She gave a nervous laugh and walked away.  Months later after her maternity leave, she walks up to me with that wild-eyed new parent look, takes my hand and says something to the effect of, “You were SO right and I had no idea…there truly aren’t words…”

If you aren’t a parent – that may not have made sense to you.

I love my child. She is sharp, creative, caring, pretty and cunning. She is a force to be reckoned with now and will be until she leaves the nest for her own place. I love that she takes care of me when I’m ill, brings me art for my office, eager to share a dessert, read a book together and wants to cuddle from time to time. But sometimes….

sometimes….

sometimes….

….sometimes….

I just wish I could do it over.

No, it’s MINE!

I really should be working on a test plan right now.  My brain is so tired.  It needs a rest.  For like… a week.  But since that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m taking 20 minutes now.  On that tired thing – yesterday afternoon I had to give myself an attitude adjustment.  Yesterday morning I had reached critical mass and was super crabby in two meetings and not very professional.  I don’t like that.  I want to act better than that.  And yes, I’m human and all blah blah blah.  Still, I feel bad I was bitchy and unreasonable for – oh – about 3 hours yesterday morning.

Wow! Am I hard on myself or what?!

The other night I was tucking A into bed.  She has a foot injury from last weekend and we’ve been on her to keep her foot elevated.  There was a pillow under the sheets to raise it up while she slept.  All the sheets were tangled up, books piled up, stuffies falling off the edge.  So I took hold of the sheet to straighten it out.  The pillow underneath – it is one of my 2 favorite pillows in the house.  That I keep on my bed.  It has a nice satin, paisley print on one side and brushed velvet on the other.  It’s cozy.  Pretty.  It’s mine.

So I took it and said something like “you know this is mommy’s right?”  Boy did that kid throw a fit (which, by the way, is a very common occurrence in our house lately)  She was screaming and crying at me, saying it’s not fair and you don’t share with me and it’s so TEAR-ible of me.  Blah blah blah.  Tucked her in and took my pillow with me!

I brought the pillow back into my room and threw it on the bed. 

I paused.

A wave of Horrible Mommy washed over me.  How selfish I was.  Shouldn’t I teach her to share by sharing myself?  Guilt – OH the (recovering) catholic guilt! 

I paused again.

Then I got really pissed.  So pissed that if I didn’t love that pillow so much I would have bashed it against the wall until it ripped open. 

WHY should I have to share with my kid just because I’m the Mommy?  Shouldn’t I also teach her that some things are sacred?  And no – I don’t have to provide you a reason why!  I’m the Mommy and I said so and you just need to deal with it (flashback moment). 

Now I don’t feel guilty at all that I took the pillow back.  It’s my pillow after all and I don’t want to share. 

I’m also going to take my crayons and go home while I’m at it. 

So there!!

Television and (my) Kids

Recently someone at work on a parenting list posted this article done by Canadian researchers that Toddler TV Linked to Low Math Scores.  There was a variety of responses from the parents.  Mostly along the lines of – OMG is this really news?!  As I’ve often said before on the more inane “scientific” research reports that are announced.  Granted, this is Microsoft so many parents often have a sense of superiority and snobbery to the rest of the planet of parents.  What?!  It’s true – so don’t you dare flame me! (and I didn’t say ALL parents)

One of the parents did an informal poll asking – how old are your kids, how much time do they watch TV, what shows do they watch.  OK – I’ll bite, I responded.  In case you all are curious – mine is 7, 1-2 hours a day.  I replied that she watches – Cyberchase, Fetch with/ Ruff Ruffman, Phineas & Ferb, Bindi the Jungle Girl, Fraggle Rock, How It’s Made, Food Network.  This doesn’t account for the time she watches movies (mostly on the weekend) and any iTouch/computer screen time.

I got the results this morning.

I had the oldest kids of the respondents.  People actually said their kids watches 10 minutes a day.  Or that they never watch shows, but the TV is on in the background all the time (um…that counts!)  I guess what surprises me is how defensive people are.  How quickly parents flip into this I Do The Right Thing Mode and truth or not, tell the answer they think people want to hear.  How the world will be SO much better for their kid because of how much and what they watch.

I don’t really have the same outlook.  Yes, I monitor how much A watches.  Yes, I have say in what she watches.  I don’t think TV is rotting her brain.  One of her top faves right now is Cyberchase.  She got a Cyberchase computer game for her birthday (which she loves).  If you don’t know Cyberchase – it’s a very logic/math based mystery solving show.  On the other side of television, once in a while she will watch The Fairly Odd Parents which I don’t think has much value at all.  Sure, it has a veiled message of values – but never my first choice.  I’d rather she watch Phineas & Ferb – those boys come up with the craziest creative ideas of “what to do today”, it’s funny and I enjoy watching it with her.

Guess what people!  My kid LOVES math! She excels at math! It’s easy for her (yes, tooting my own math-degreed horn)

I think about the shows my brother and I watched.  Sure, we had a lot of exposure to PBS and Nickelodeon.  Then there were the Smurfs, Care Bears, Speed Racer, Krofft Brothers, Animaniacs, etc etc etc!  We also were plastered in front of the TV every Saturday watching 3 hours of Bug Bunny.  If anything is going to rot your brain, it’s Bugs Bunny.  Apply today’s logic and the two of us should be insane, cross-dressing, carrot chomping, hot head deviants pushing people off of cliffs and carrying guns around shooting at anything that moves.

I turned out OK.

We cannot blame how our kids turn out based on television, xBox, iPad, computer time they have.  As parents, I feel we have a duty to monitor, make choices, and (probably most important) set boundaries on anything our kids are exposed to as they grow up.  Actually, most important is to engage with them and talk about “smart” viewing choices.  Explain why I won’t let her watch Hannah Montana because I don’t think Miley Cyrus is a good role model or the Little Mermaid because she gives up who she is for a man.  Sometimes I get that confused look, but A doesn’t push back on me.

I’m not even going to talk about the days the TV isn’t on at all, that’s another story for another time.  This one is about taking control of the television, engage with the kid, and remember that we turned out OK. 

Make smart choices, that’s all I ask.

April Quote

“the time has come” the walrus said,

“to talk of many things:

of shoes – and ships –

and sealing way –

of cabbages – and kings –

and why the sea is boiling hot

and whether pigs have wings”

– lewis carroll

Did you see Alice in Wonderland?  I am a HUGE Tim Burton fan.  I remember sitting in the Moorestown Mall Cinema back in high school waiting for Edward Scissorhands to start.  My friend leaned across to me and said something along the lines of – Tim Burton is a GENIUS!  That was before I really knew who Tim Burton was.  Now – I agree he is a creative genius.     Huh.     Perhaps I work with too many technical engineers.

A asked to see the movie in the theater – instead we let her watch a version from the 70s via streaming Netflix.  Wow.  Think Mr. Burton’s was trippy?  Try watching a movie from the 70s with those kinds of special effects and that kind of acting.  If today’s Alice is a journey into an altered imagination when sober – the one from the 70s would require a glass of wine (or 5) to get through it.

I digress.

Lately I have been enjoying young adult literature – for more reasons than it’s a quick read for a busy mom.  It’s exciting to think that very soon A will read the books I read as a kid – or some I haven’t.  (note – the some I haven’t is the ONLY reason I’ll read the Twilight series, if she asks me to)  I’ve started to reread Madeleine L’Engle, John D. Fitzgerald and Judy Blume. It’s kinda exciting to revisit books I read as a kid and haven’t picked up since then.  Those that had such an influence on me. 

We started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone to her a few weeks ago.  She is in love with this book.  She tells us she can’t wait to begin reading all the others as soon as possible.  Uh, in due time my child…  Last week on a family vacation to Florida, she spent nearly every ride in the backseat with Grandma conducting Witch Class.  They came up with some pretty good spells.  My favorite being the Freezing Spell.  You need to do that magic thing and say “Froze!!!”  If the witch ever decides to relief that poor frozen person, the witch needs to shout “UF!”  The adults cracked up every time, I think Grandma was afraid of rearranging those letters, as were the parents.

And the fun continues.

Little Annoyances. Maybe some not so little.

I was paging back through my posts from last January.  Today is the 25th of Jan 2010.  I didn’t write on Jan 25, 2009 last year.  The book ends on either side was an OCD post about children’s messy rooms and losing my mind.  um, memory.  Today I feel like I’m losing my mind.

I told someone recently that I want to let go of a few things in the house and not be all OCD.  I used the kitchen sink as an example.  Seeing dirty dishes, clean to be put away, or recycling – it makes me twitch. 

Yeah……  on second thought, that isn’t going to be the one. 

I’m really doing my best to let A have her room her way.  I’m really trying people, I really am.  She’s back to sleeping in her “tent” on the floor.  Her perfectly good twin bed is piled with clothes (clean and dirty), books and random papers.  It looks like her closet threw up all over the floor.  I am not kidding – the door is open and toys are spilling out onto the carpet.  She constantly loses one of a pair, the connector of whatever toys, 2 pieces of a puzzle.  She sometimes gets really upset about it, to which I respond if you put that thing away like I asked it wouldn’t be lost right now.  Oh – and the multiple glasses of water – OMG the water!  (by the way – I am aware I wrote about this before, it persists)

Part of my current anguish stems from New Year’s.  I went in her room about 9am.  Norman came by around 11:30 to ask what I was doing and now the whole agenda of the day had changed.  And you know what, I was barely through half of the cleaning I wanted to do!  I was able to trash a bunch of stuff that just needed to go.  A joined me at some point and was doing a good job of putting things where I directed her.  We were also able to select a nice sized bag of toys for charity.  She did poke around inquiring about missing stuff.  The only thing I dug out of the trash were a bazillion folded up mini post-it notes.  She went into explaining their purpose in her round-about 6 2/3 year old way.  Cannot tell you what it was, I stopped listening at some point.

I never got back into the room that day to complete my task.

Every time I enter the room now I resist with all my might to start putting things away.  Lost library books should not be my problem to fix.  Misplaced reading lights are not my responsibility.  Scratched CDs floating about the room is not my deal when they start skipping.  Water spills on dolls, blankets and paper with marker drawings are hers to clean up.

How am I doing?  Is this step big enough?  How long until someone is knocking at my door telling me it’s time to let go of another OCD “problem”?

 

p.s. – if anyone out there knows how to get an original drawing done with a Sharpie off of a wood dresser, please let me know.

things my daughter says

It’s fun to watch as your kidlet develops more of their personality and sense of humor.  Living with two, sarcastic, (former) East Coast parents is setting quite the stage for A.  Here are some gems…

Stage:  School lunch.  Parent helper in the classroom.  We had pieces of vanilla/chocolate chip cake in the freezer to pop into her lunch box from time to time, when we’re feeling generous…
Helper – wow A, that sure looks like a good treat!  What is that?
A – My daddy calls it cake.

Stage:  Woodland Park Zoo, somewhere along a path.  Black crow on the fence.  Norman has affectionately named two crows that hang out by our house Fred & Ethel.  We like to joke that they follow us around.
Me – Hey A, look, Fred came with us to the zoo today!
A – (exasperated) No Mommmmm….that’s Ethel.  Jeez!

A – Why do you even say Maybe?!  Maybe always means No!!
Me – (no response)

Stage: Dinner time. Norman and I are having our “adult” conversation after A has already been excused.  She has been playing around with a loose tooth for a few days.  A comes running downstairs mumble-screaming…
A – People!!  Hello people!  People look at this!!
A is holding a small bloody tooth in her hand, slobbering, with a big-ass cheesy grin

Stage: Picking up A from the YMCA talking about the new year, 2010.
A – How do you say the year?  Like, is it 2-0-1-0?  Or something else.
Me – Typically people would say either twenty-ten or two-thousand ten.
A – Wow.  So, what happens when it’s two-zero-nine-nine?  What’s the next year?
Me – That would be 21-hundred, or two-thousand-one-hundred.  But people will more likely say 21-hundred
A – Will I be alive then?
Me – You could be, you would be pretty old, but you could be.  Not me and Daddy though, we won’t be around then.
A – So then, what happens at two-nine-nine-nine?  What’s the next year?
Me – That would be the year three-thousand.
A – NO WAY!  That’s like – infinity!  It just keeps going?
Me – Yes, the years keep ticking by, at some point, the year will have 5 numbers in it instead of 4.
A – So will I be alive in the year 3000?
Me – I don’t think so.  You would be almost a thousand years old.  Unless there is some crazy science-technology thing sometime soon, you won’t be alive then.
A – Good!

I should write these down more often.