Jelly bean bangle bungle

In the category of "I can't believe they did that," I saw an item on the news wire that caught my attention. It was touting a craft project to do with kids to make edible bracelets. Their bright idea was to string up jelly beans with elastic so little girls could snack on the beans while wearing the bracelet. Do you see a problem with this? Maybe I'm being a little too critical, but have you ever held jelly beans in your hands for any length of time? You wind up with a rainbow of colors in your palm as the coating melts away. Plus, consider how attractive that bracelet will look with little bite marks or half eaten beads. Why not string up real beads for a lasting bracelet and serve the beans on the side?
-Liz

"Timeout" at the jail

I just can't wait to hear what Faith told the teacher about her day off Monday. Because my husband's co-worker was out sick, he dropped her off at the newspaper as it was too early to make other arrangements. Faith watched a movie on her DVD player while I made my beat checks. I knew I had to cover a brief memorial for a slain deputy at the law enforcement center, but she had her crayons and could color quietly. The event gave me the opportunity to talk to her about sacrificing oneself for the sake of others. She's a mature kid and I knew she could handle the brief tribute to commemorate the death of Joseph Whitehead who was killed in a drug raid two years ago. His youngest son was a little younger than Faith when he lost his dad. I think that gave her a greater appreciation for the solemnity of the occasion. But by the time it was over, she was ready to go. I had a few more shots to get and some interviews to do. I noticed a chair next to the podium and I told her to sit there and I'd be finished soon. The sheriff noticed her sitting (facing the wall) and thought she was in timeout. He bent over and turned her chair around to be sitting behind him as he talked with reporters. He thought he had emancipated the girl who was wrongly imprisoned in his jail! She said she couldn't wait to tell her teacher about "going to jail." I just hope she remembers the larger lesson of service and sacrifice.
- Liz

the best gift ever

I've always been one for making my own gifts - especially for parents and grandparents. I think the switch was hit after a third-grade project in which we all wrote the sotries of our lives as Christmas presents for our parents. IT was the first time I saw my mom cry over a gift.
So years later, I'd still rather give a scrapbook or photo album than the latest gadget. And finally, someone has caught up with me.
Blurb.com lets enterprising writers, bloggers, journal-ers publish their writings in a bound format, perfect for giving (or keeping). And Creationsbyyou.com has a more basic book creation kit that lets you insert photos, scan in and publish scrapbook pages, kids' artwork, school papers and certificates, then write a little about them. The books arrive either hard or softbound, in a few weeks. I discovered them during one of Daniel's school fundraisers and thought they'd be a great gift for grandparents who don't get to see the work that comes home from school.
Sure 'nuff, made 'em cry.
-Misty

What's the point?

The worst thing my mom could do to me as a tenneger was ground me OUT of my room. I would spend hours in there, reading and listening to the radio. "Come out, be social, spend time with your family," she'd say. I can't imagine what it would have been like if I'd had my own phone or TV in there!

But these days, it's typical to see a television in every room of a house - even the bedrooms. And kids are getting in-room television privileges younger and younger.

Daniel is occasionally allowed to take his DVD player into his room, but I don't think that's the same as a tv - where I might not know what he's watching or for how long.

And there's no way he's getting his own computer in there - at least until he's in college and will likely have his own laptop. In college, I guess I'll be pretty limited in saying "now, don't go meeting any crazy people online, dear." At that point, he's either taught or can't be taught.

For me, it's not just a matter of knowing what he's watching and what he's doing on the computer. It's that there are so many OTHER things I want him to do. Play ball, race cars, play board games or read. Go outside and dig in the dirt or ride his bike or his scooter, play with the dog, kick a soccer ball. There's so much more going on in this world that doesn't tie us to a computer - if I let him get hooked on video games and television and the Internet now, how will I show him those things?

Plus, there's the exercise factor. Kids who spend all their time in front to the TV or computer aren't running, jumping, sweating and getting dirty. Hey, I have a boy - at some point in my future I'll be able to say "the lawn needs mowing" and a teenage boy will slouch his way out the front door and do the job for me! (No, I'm not under the delusion that he'll do it willingly, but hey, I'm the mom.) At some point, when there's major yard work to be done Chris and I will have another pair of hands to help us dig the garden, pull down vines and weeds, chop up and haul off small trees and underbrush. Daniel likes to "help" now, but in the grand scheme of things - well, let's just say most of the branches outweigh him. But as I watch him puttering around out there with us, I'm glad he's not in front of the television.

--Misty

Hail to the chef

Faith wanted to know why daddy's scrambled eggs tasted different than mommy's. So recently I showed her step-by-step how to crack, beat and cook the eggs to fluffy tenderness. She was a quick learner and was ready to put her new-found knowledge into practice. The next school day, she told her father that she would be making the eggs. Aside from the butter burning in the pan and nearly setting off the smoke alarm, she made the eggs and more importantly she ATE them. I realize a 7-year-old can not cook unsupervised, but I believe it's healthy for her to know her way around the kitchen. One day, I hope her husband and children will thank me. But more lessons are needed as we had what the airlines might call a "near-miss." The scary part is, no one realized the pending disaster that was looming in the kitchen. Faith decided on a recent Saturday that it was "massage day" which meant she would treat her parents to her version of a massage before we even got out of bed. When I heard her in the kitchen, I told her not to worry about breakfast as I sensed she was getting ready to pour cereal for "breakfast in bed" in addition to our spa treatment. Not long before our massage session was about to come to an end, I thought I smelled natural gas. I did! On really cold days in our older house, my husband puts a huge pot of water simmering on the stove for auxiliary heating and humidification. Turns out Faith decided to add water to the pot (the noises I heard in the kitchen) had spilled some water that put out the gas flame. We turned off the burner and began the continuing lecture about cooking safety. While I want her to enjoy cooking, I don't want her to have a blast!
-Liz

Online kids

I've had a couple of wakeup calls this week. First, when I went to pick Daniel up from the after-school program on Monday, my child was the only one not online in the computer lab. "He'd rather watch 'Arthur,'" said the teacher. But all the other kids were happily playing games or surfing the 'net.
This morning, I spoke to a middle-school class about blogging and other online writing careers. When I asked how many had a MySpace or Facebook page, almost every hand went up. Wow. Wasn't expecting that.
I guess because I grew up without video games in the house, and before the Internet (it wasn't THAT long ago!), I don't see the need to have my kindergartener wired. He can play board games, or cars and trains, or paint outside on the front porch. He can use his hands for more than steering a mouse, and the more active I keep his little body, the easier he goes to sleep at night (in theory).
He has one computer game that I let him play about once a week. In time, we'll expand that repetoire, and I'm kind of attracted to the new Wii - hello, golf? boxing? tennis? I'm awful at those sports in reality, but maybe I can do better in a virtual world. And I remember playing "Oregon Trail" and "Where in the World is Carmen SanDiego" in my own middle school years.
But I'm not sure I want my kid online and hooked in to the Internet just yet. My discussion turned from careers to "beware" pretty quickly. It seems some of the kids had already gotten into trouble for what they'd posted on their MySpace and Facebook pages. Yikes!
So what do we do about it, moms? And how much computer time do you let your kids have? Next time: computers and tvs in their rooms: yea or nay?
--Misty

full force response

I was sitting at my dining room table doing paperwork Saturday when I noticed a police officer in my back yard. "Interesting," I thought. So I called the dog and Daniel in and asked him to play in his room before going outside myself.
As I walked out front, I saw a police officer climbing the fence to my neighbor's yard. As I watched, he walked all the way around their pool - a popular place with myself and Daniel in the summer. As he was looking for a place to climb back out of the yard, I called to him that the gate was unlocked. "Thanks," he replied. And around the corner came the dad.
"Have you seen a little girl?" he asked. My heart skipped a beat.
"Blond hair, about this long, blue eyes, named..." and I had to reply that I hadn't seen her, but that there were a bunch of kids playing at the house on the hill behind me all day. So off he went, in the middle of a parent's nightmare.
The point is, he had backup. Lots of it. I continued to watch and I saw no fewer than eight police cars canvassing the neighborhood over the next half-hour. And I guess they found her, because then they all left.
So Daniel and I had a talk about why it's so important that, if he's playing outside, he stay in our yard. Longtime readers will remember when he ran away with the three-year-old next door, and the only reason it was funny to me then is because I found him before I even started looking. But, oh, was he in trouble! And he doesn't even remember it now.
So as the weather gets nicer and the kids spend more time outside, maybe it's time to have a little chat about boundaries and wandering off.
Either that or get a subcutaneous GPS. It'll come in handy when they're teenagers, too. (That's a joke, y'all)
--Misty

Getting together for a good cause

As more kids enroll in college, I'm hoping every college is planning for more scholarships. Tomorrow, a group of home-business consultants will open up shop on the campus of Fort Valley State University to benefit the scholarship fund there.
You are familliar with the companies - Mary Kay cosmetics, Cookie Lee jewelry, PartyLite candles, Tastefully Simple foods, Pampered Chef kitchen products, Creative Memories scrapbooking supplies, and Weekenders clothing. You've probably even met some of the consultants who will be there. But this time, instead of working for a paycheck, the consultants will be taking home the hostess credit usually given away at home parties and giving their profits to the school. How cool is that?
So if you've the opportunity, stop by the C.W. Pettigrew Center on the campus of Fort Valley State University tomorrow between 10 a.m. and 4 p.m. Your purchase helps a kid (maybe yours) go to school.
Directions: IF TRAVELING NORTH: Take Interstate 75 north and exit at Perry/Fort Valley (Exit 136). Turn left at the end of the ramp and proceed about ten miles to Fort Valley on Route 341. Pass the Industrial Park and turn left on University Boulevard. Travel to the first stop sign, which will be State University Drive. Turn right onto State University Drive. The campus is on the right. The Pettigrew Center is the second building on the right. Enter through the first gate in the brick fence. Parking is in two lots behind the building (unless otherwise instructed by Campus Security).
IF TRAVELING SOUTH FROM MACON: Take Interstate 75 south, bypass Macon on I-475S, and exit at Byron/Fort Valley (Exit 149). Turn right at the end of the ramp and proceed eleven miles to Fort Valley on Route 49. Pass the Blue Bird Body Company and continue straight through the downtown area on Route 49/Camellia. Cross the railroad tracks and turn left on State University Drive. The campus is on the left less than one mile away. The Pettigrew Center is at the south end of the campus. Enter through the gate at the end of the brick fence. Parking is in two lots behind the building (unless otherwise instructed by Campus Security).

a boy's "firsts"

I'll spare you the pictures, but we had a male milestone in our house Monday. Daniel got his first stitches.
Now, I know you mothers of girls out there are simply appalled, or laughing and thanking God you have little ladies. But mothers of boys are asking "how old is he? You made it that long?"
Because moms of boys and girls have different milestones to mark sometimes. I won't be waiting for the first time my daughter "becomes a lady" and I won't have to demonstrate feminine hygine products. But I will get to discuss how many broken bones, stitches, ER visits, etc. my son has had. I will go through first car agony in a different way, as well, I suspect. Because Daniel's first car is likely to be up on blocks getting rebuilt for a couple of years before he actually gets his driver's license. (Not all moms of boys go through that, but moms of boys and wives of old-car fanatics get SPECIAL treats.)
So, he ran into a tree (on foot - longtime readers will remember this isn't his first headlong pelt into a tree) and the school called for me to pick him up. Three hours in the MedStop waiting room (I've avoided the flu this long but I'm pretty sure I'm doomed by that one visit) and three stitches later, we have new bragging rights.
Ahh, the joys of boys.
--Misty

To shield or not to shield

We had a very close call with Faith's beloved kitty, Xiang. Seems he was run over by a neighbor's car but managed to miss all four tires, tumbled a bit on the road before running off. As I searched for him for about 20 minutes, I agonized over how I would tell my daughter if he were dead. Thankfully, he was under a bush in our backyard with a stunned look on his face. Aside from not meowing for about a day, he only had a slight limp that quickly disappeared. Another neighbor up the street recently lost a cat that didn't fare as well with a vehicle encounter. Seeing the cat's body on the side of the road, I stopped and pulled him off onto the shoulder. I later stopped to ask the homeowner across the street if it was their cat. It was. They told their little girl who is about Faith's age that the cat ran away. They wanted to spare her the grief. People may think we're morbid, but we actually took Faith to her first funeral before she turned 3. A dear friend and surrogate grandmother died after battling cancer. During the later stages of her illness, Faith would crawl up into her hospital bed when we would visit. We were honest with her that she was dying. We were also open with her about my mother's illness and she took her death in stride. She probably handled it better than all of us. I'm not sure what the experts will say, but honesty has worked in our case.
- Liz

Homework "help"

Daniel has already discovered that he can wheedle his way into getting me to help with his homework.
"I don't know how to do this, momma," he whimpers with those big blue eyes focused on me. "Will you help me?"
I usually just go over the directions and make sure he does the first one correctly before continuing with dinner prep. But then comes time to check the paper.
"Look at this one, this one and this one," I'll say.
He gets busy with the eraser and then works his wiles again. "How do I do this one?"
Usually, they are careless mistakes, so I get all stern and "you can do it" on him. But I know parents who hit their limit at about this point, and walk their child the rest of the way through to correct answers.
I'm still tough, though - if Daniel misses more than half of the problems on his first time around, I make an extra bit of practice up for him. (He hates it when I do that, but it's just the teacher in me.)
Here's my question: Is it more important to you to have your child turn in perfect homework - even if you have to provide some of the answers, or is it just important for them to have the practice and get MOST of it right on their own?
--Misty

Consignment alert

A friend in the newsroom just asked about upcoming consignment sales and I do have dates from two of my favorite sales in Macon. Kidz Replay, which is located in the Riverstreet Corners shopping center next to Lipson's Fabrics, runs Wednesday and Thursday, March 5th and 6th from 9 a.m. until 7 p.m., Friday March 7th from 9 a.m. until 1 p.m. and Saturday March 8th from 8 a.m. until noon when many of the items are half price. The following week, the Martha Bowman United Methodist Church will hold their Mothers of Preschoolers sale at Hephzibah Children's Home on Zebulon Road across from Lake Wildwood. It is open to the public Friday March 14th from 9 a.m. until 7 p.m. and Saturday March 15th from 8 a.m. until 1 p.m. which is also a half price day for most items. If you can't wait until then, my friend advised she got some really good deals this week at the Children's Friend Outlet Store at Tanger on I-75 North. Many of their winter items are reduced to just a few dollars or less. The consignment sales offer spring and summer clothing for boys and girls. Happy shopping and Happy saving!
- Liz

how do you handle it?

I was listening to Family Life Radio this week and a woman came on talking about a division between herself and the rest of her family because she's a Christian and the rest of them aren't. Her situation was pretty destructive.
There's a division in my family: it started when I married someone my parents didn't (and still don't) approve of. The hostilities have waxed and waned over the years, but they're still there - like an elephant in the parlor. Everyone's convinced he or she is right, and there have been periods of estrangement over it.
Here's my plea for advice: How do I fix it? How do I live with it? How do I share my son with grandparents who act like they hate his father? How do I ask my husband to share his son with people who seem as though they can't stand him? I know some of you have faced similar situations - maybe with an ex's parents. How did you handle it? I literally have nightmares about this part of my life.
And yes, the parties I'm talking about do read this blog. So it's not like we haven't all recognized there's an elephant in the parlor - holding a bazooka.
--Misty

Things to make and do

Houston County parents are staring another week of school vacation in the face. Pick up a Family Fun magazine for a whole slew of things to keep the kiddies busy while they're off.
For example: It's not too early to get the garden ready for planting. They can dig around in the mud, clearing leaves and twigs and making rows for summer veggies. Or, just pick up some plastic pots and they can spend part of one day painting them, the next day filling them with dirt and seeds for window pots.
Spring cleaning anyone? I get the bug to rearrange furniture kind of often, so this weekend we'll be reformatting the living room. BUt Daniel's room has devolved into such a mess that I haven't even run the vaccuum in there for a couple of weeks. So come time off from school, guess which room we'll be tackling together? You can spend most of a day playing "try this on to see if it fits" and making a list of new summer clothes needed. And don't forget the teachable moment: too-small clothes and toys that haven't been played with in oh, a year, go to the charity box for kids who don't have good clothes or toys. Just don't turn that toy donation into a battle - if they insist they must keep it, insist they must play with it. Bang, another activity that'll keep 'em busy while you pay bills or organize your closet.
--Misty

Mom's mortal, too

It shouldn't take a brush with death to make us consider what would happen to our families if were were no longer there to take care of them. But as I experienced a severe allergic reaction and waited to see if I would be able to take my next breath yesterday, I kept thinking "Wait - they're not properly trained yet!"
Because that's what I've been doing. Training my son to live on his own, take care of himself, keep his own house. And, of course, at 5, he's not ready. But I'm not done training his dad, either. Dishes don't have to wait until you've exhausted every clean utensil, you shouldn't be out of clothes before you do laundry, and women need wooing - not just to get one, but to keep her. Of course, his heroics in the Taking Care of Me department yesterday earned him a lot of bonus points - metaphorically speaking.
But here's another question I am left with - do I have enough life insurance? And have I told the people around me about my wishes for final arrangements? Morbid, yeah, but also just being prepared.
The biggest question of course is: Have I told them how much I love them? And there can never be too much of that.
--Misty

Josiah's gone to see Jesus

He was barely one pound. Baby Josiah lived for about 15 minutes but his story will never die in the lives he's touched. Since word first broke of the disturbing sonogram, the family, their friends and their friends have been praying for God to heal him. They rejoiced when someone discovered "Josiah," the name the mom had picked even before she knew the sex is translated - "Whom Jehovah heals." But Josiah died. "It wasn't quite like we wanted it to be, but he's healed now," the father told the pastor's wife, who happens to be a retired obstetrician. If she had been the doctor in this case - once the mother lost her mucus plug, started having contractions and labor pains, she would have prescribed a steroid shot to try to help Josiah's lungs form quicker in case of early delivery. Monday, doctors performed an emergency c-section once all the amniotic fluid had leaked out which left Josiah and his mom vulnerable to infection. But once outside the womb there wasn't a breathing tube small enough for his tiny throat. He got out one little cry before he died. But he has already spoken volumes for the faith of his family's church. For weeks, they have been praying and declaring Josiah would be born whole, healthy and of sound mind. Doctors have been telling the parents to abort. The mother fought back tears over the weekend as she retold the advice she'd gotten. This woman, after hearing the sonogram showed fused hands and feet and Spina Bifida, told her doctor she wasn't going to refuse God's gift just because it wasn't perfect. When a woman at the specialist's office said the second opinion was not covered, she asked wouldn't the mother be better off if she just terminated? It wasn't long after that she was fighting back labor and trying not to lose any more water. Even if doctors and their nurses had given up, the family and the friends did not. Some unbelievers might scoff at a God who chooses not to heal a baby or of people who pray for the impossible. But little Josiah's hands, feet and face were normal. So either the doctors were wrong about the formation of his extremities or God healed him. The parents know they did all they could do. Josiah did not die in vain, some good will come out of this, they said.
- Liz

Mom at home and school

How does being a teacher affect your kids?
RESA and others are holding teacher job fairs in the coming days and weeks and I thought: what if you work where your kid goes to school?
When I was in 9th grade, I went to school with two great friends whose mother taught social studies at our school. They were the top students in their classes. How much of it was the fact that mom was just a hall away? I don't know, because they both went on to excel in the medical field. But I imagine the emphasis on education must have been very high in their home.
So teachers - got kids? How do you separate school and home? OR do you?
Inquiring minds want to know.
--Misty

When 1+1 doesn't equal 2

My newest parenting challenge is finding patience when helping my daughter with school work. Last week she brought home a math paper with more red X's than a needlepoint sampler. More subtraction problems were wrong than right. She's been taught to use a number line to add and subtract but I have to wonder whether she's using it incorrectly as most of the wrong answers were one digit off. It's been so frustrating because I know she has a good memory yet these math equations and her spelling words aren't sinking in. How do you learn those things without memorizing them? I once met a little Indian girl at a wedding who wanted me to remember her mother's cell phone number so we could arrange a play date. "Put it into your mind," she told me. If only it were as easy as that. It appears some things go in Faith's mind and right back out. She has a hard time concentrating on which problem we're working on let alone finding the correct answer. The teacher has advised us to use flash cards for 10 minutes each day. When flashing certain equations, Faith just says, "That's so hard." I remember having to write out long tables of 1+1 and 1+2 and memorizing my multiplication tables. I don't know how else to help her memorize these numbers. Does anyone have an advice for helping a youngster concentrate and learn?
- Liz

Looking to the future

High school seniors are deep into college application territory. So here's my question: what do you look for, as a parent, when your kids are looking at schools? Is cost the major factor? Are the programs offered your main concern? What about size of the school?
Drop me a comment, start a discussion. I know Middle Georgia parents are super aware of the importance of their kids' educations!
--Misty

All better

It's amazing what a note to the teacher can do.
I wrote her about Daniel's concerns about bing called "stupid" and that he was coming up with excuses to not go to school. She had a chat with him that day.
"While I couldn't get Daniel to name the student who was calling him 'stupid,' I did tell him he is one of the smartest in my class," she wrote back.
And sure enough, he was all smiles when I picked him up that afternoon. "I'm smart, mama!" he crowed.
Yes, dear, I've been telling you that. But apparently, some things take on more meaning coming from a teacher.
God bless our teachers.
--Misty