Procrastination: 1, Parenting Lesson: 0

Teddy's "wax museum" display went really well today. He wrote up his notes this morning, put on his costume, and decided to try the accent (drawl) that DH coached him on for George W. Bush. DH was drafted to record some of the students on our digital camera, and as soon as I can figure out how, I'll post a link. That might take a while, though.

Anyway, compared to the other children participating, Teddy was loud (takes after his Mom, heh), clear, a little funny, and had a good speech ready. His teacher printed out a facsimile of the Presidential seal, which they taped to a music stand. Teddy made a "Mission Accomplished" sign and hung it behind him.

Given an audience, we should have known that Teddy would shine. And we are really happy for him. Even his principal, who is not his biggest fan (due to Teddy's frequent referrals for shenanigans at the wrong time) commented that his was the best one she'd seen. Teddy's teacher wants to use the video clip of Teddy as an example of "how this project should be done."

So, it is nice to see him do a good job, nice to see him enjoy the attention, and great to see this interesting project come to life in the cafeteria.

But there is a little parenting voice in our heads, that says Teddy has just learned how successful you can be even if you leave things to the last minute. And drop bombshells on your parents over dinner about needing a suit, tie, podium, and speech about the WRONG President George, the night before a project is due.

We did not go through extraordinary lengths to help him--he is a bright child who can absorb information quickly. He was able to get the concept and the speech fast, and the project was under his ideal circumstances. Not shy, our Teddy.

But we do worry about what he just learned from this. Hopefully our irritation and lectures last night had some impact and he will plan better next time. Hope springs eternal...

My favorite use for a Wii remote

I live in a house full of video game players. I think they consider themselves "Gamers", and they range in age from 7 to 40-something. When I am feeling grumpy about all the screens blaring around the house, however, the word "addicted" crosses my mind, and sometimes my lips.

Now, I know not all video games rot your brain out. There is some research that indicates that some gameplaying time, spent in the more challenging, multi-layered problem-solving types of games do actually develop some critical thinking and reasoning skills. But I suspect the amount of video-gaming that goes on in this house is more than is required to gain those benefits.

As much as I was concerned about the entrance of the Wii in the house, I would support the arrival of Wii fitness, as there is potential to get us moving. The few occasions when I have been persuaded to play Wii Tennis or Bowling have been fun. And sweaty. Sweaty fun--I like that.

As a woman of many interests, though, I have lots (and lots and lots) of hobbies. They mostly include fabric or fiber, but also some electronics as I write and explore other blogs and even venture into social networking. There are so many other things I have to do, and so much that I want to do, that I can always come up with 10 better things to do than play a video game. Give me a choice between video games and reading a good book, and I will tell you--the book wins.

Which brings me to my favorite use for a Wii remote. With the silicon jacket on (the one that minimizes brain damage if you whack your neighbor while playing Wii tennis), the Wii remote is the perfect size and weight to hold my paperback book open while I am reading and knitting. Now, THAT's handy!

Confessions of a total chicken

OK, we went to a local theme park yesterday to fully celebrate the wonder of SPRING BREAK! Oh to be a kid again, when vacations just didn't come often enough, but sure came more often than when you join the working world.

DH and I both took Thursday off from work, and brought the boys to the local theme park for a day of junk food and rides. We were on a mission to convert Barley into a roller-coaster lover by the end of the day, because it would make our lives easier. Our friends' kids like coasters, and when we have a family day or group day at the Park, all the other thrill-seekers head off in a quest for blood-pumping excitement. Barley and I, well, we just hang out in the kids' area. The little kids area. Where the 3-5 year olds are hanging out. Umm, Barley is 7.

We decided to start the day off with one of the milder coasters in the park. This link takes you to a page listing the rides there. They are rated 1 to 5, and Psycho Mouse was a 4, which surprised me, as I understood it to be a decent "starter" coaster for kids ready to get off the kiddie rides. We saw that some of the kids on line were younger than Barley, so we figured he would be able to handle it. Teddy had already ridden this last summer, and was eager to hit the more challenging coasters, but he agreed to stick with us so we could ride as a family.

Now, I am not a big coaster fan. I've ridden a few, but I don't like the extreme ones, and if I have a choice between riding a coaster and waiting at the bottom and knitting, I'll pick the knitting. More relaxing. But, in the spirit of selling Barley on the wonders of coasters, and knowing he does not like to try new things, we were all going to ride together. So, I was resigned to going on--besides, it couldn't be that bad with all these little kids riding, right?

Boy, have I turned chicken in my middle age. As we were heading up the first big hill, part of my brain was freaking out so bad that I had to focus on my breathing (ohmyGod what am I doing here, why did I agree to this, oh sh!t, HEEEELLLLLPPPP!). Luckily, Barley was sitting in front of me and could not see my panicky reaction. My hands were completely sweaty, and I had a death grip on the rail in front of me.

There was a flattish zig-zag part to the ride at the top, which did not look bad from the ground. Teddy warned us it was scarier up there than it looked--and he was SOOOO right! You ride along and can't see the track under you, so it appears you are driving off a VERY HIGH cliff...then CLUNK, the car suddenly jolts you in the other direction. A primitive survival instinct kicked in, and I was glad that my 7-year old and 10-year old were in the seat in front of me. If this car went off the rails and we plummeted to our death, the boys would go first...how comforting.

I was actually a tiny bit relieved when we started to go straight down instead of the off-the cliff part of the ride...then we went up, which was definitely better than down, then DOWN again, when I really thought I might die of fright, then up again, then DOWN again, and merciful God, the ride was finally over. My chest hurt. And I was NOT going to ride again.

DH bought a picture of the boys on the ride, and unlike the first kiddie coaster, Teddy is not patting his little brother telling him it's going to be OK. Teddy is the only one in the picture completely grinning, but Barley is not grimacing this time. Our plan to ride all together worked--Barley was so excited and enjoyed it so much, he and Teddy raced each other to get back on line. Hanging back, I estimated the ages of some of the other kids also running to get back on line. I think I saw some 5-year olds. When they are that young, they have NO sense of mortality--that is such an advantage!

Me, I am resigned to the fact that I'm a big chicken. Where's my knitting?

Why we live in California

Having lived in primarily white areas, I always felt very conscious of my race. Once we moved to CA, the significance of my being Asian just melted away. The San Francisco Bay Area is basically all different shades of brown, and almost everyone is from somewhere else. You hear many different languages and people don't complain about that--we celebrate it. (Most of us, anyway. There are rednecks even here)

So, it was concerning when Barley came home with a tale of another child doing the old slant-eyed routine at school. The chant went something like, "My daddy is Chinese" (pulling one eye up) and my mommy is Korean (pull other eye down), look what they did to my eyes (kid is now pulling eyes in opposite directions) DH was really very upset. Totally understandable. I wasn't thrilled about this either. (Although we did both have to smile that Barley started the discussion by asking DH if he was Chinese. DH's white skin comes from his German ancestry.)

But with 2 kids in school for 10+ years of preschool and public elementary school, for this to be the FIRST time that our kids have been confronted with racist teasing...I'm not that concerned. When most of Barley's class is Asian, Indian, Hispanic, middle-Eastern, etc., I don't think we have to worry about him being singled out for his race.

This is a far cry from my experience growing up. I was teased DAILY. There were 3 families of color whose children attended my entire school. And while I have obviously survived the playground ordeal, and am well and thriving in my adult life, there is NO doubt that the early childhood trauma of being racially harrassed every day has affected me. Some of the effect has been to my benefit: I am bold, brassy, and will not take crap from anyone. I learned early to stand up for myself, and when I didn't feel strong enough to fight back, I at least learned not to run away.

But I also learned how painful it is to be an outsider--I grew up thinking I was ugly, because I was different. There are areas where my lack of confidence has held me back, and opportunities I missed because I was too embarrassed or ashamed to try something. I like to think I've grown past all of that, but I know there are still times when old habits kick in.

So, this pleasant little jaunt down memory lane reminds me why we moved to California in the first place. The teacher took the issue seriously when I brought it to her attention, rather than just telling me "kids will be kids", like my mom got from my teachers and principal.

And I am very grateful that my boys will never feel "other" like I did. I love that Barley felt righteously indignant about this child's behavior, and that he did not just shrug and say he got teased again today. I hope he will always be appalled by racism.