My Little Dude Can Make Cookies

 Breeder's Corner, Geek Wannabe  Comments Off on My Little Dude Can Make Cookies
Jan 122005
 

A few months ago my youngest sprog was having some trouble in school. The kind where they phone up Mom and ask her to come have a talk with Junior about his behavior. The kind where it takes some time and work to straighten out the problem (and we’re still working on it).

When we were home my little guy started spending all his time alone in his room, which is very unlike him—he’s a little extrovert. But I could catch the vibe easily enough; when all you hear from the people around you is how badly you’re doing, you get to where you don’t want people around you. Believe me, I know exactly how that feels.

One afternoon I went back and knocked on his door. “Hey, can you give me a hand making cookies?”

Yep, he could do that.

Some pundit once observed that the hardest thing in the world is to know how to do something, and watch someone else do it wrong. And in many cases, “wrong” means “not how I would do it.” My little guy wanted to do all the cookie-making steps, with no help, and of course he’d never done them before so he didn’t have the experience to know how to mix the dough perfectly smooth or make each cookie exactly the same size. I was good, I didn’t try to tell him to do it differently, or offer to do it for him. After all, it wasn’t rocket science, it was cookies, and cookies don’t have to be perfect. The whole point of the exercise was to let him do something so he could feel good about himself again.

Most of them turned out quite good. A few of the really small ones were a bit on the dark side of done, but some of us actually prefer them that way. And my little guy stopped hiding out in his room so much. Mission accomplished.

A little later we were planning for Thanksgiving, writing down all the things we wanted to have for our big meal of the day. My little cookie-maker announced that he would make us all cookies to have for dessert. So I made sure we had the ingredients on hand, and he did. This time I didn’t even stay in the kitchen to supervise; he mixed it all up, and whenever he had a pan ready he called me over to put them in the oven.

Last month he noticed we had some lemonade drink mix in the cupboard and asked me if I’d make some for him. I started to head for the kitchen, and then stopped. “You know, if you can make cookies you can certainly make lemonade. That’s way easier than cookies.”

“How do I do it?”

“Just follow the directions on the package.”

And by George, he did. Now he can have lemonade whenever he wants, without having to wait until a parent comes to mix some up for him. Needless to say we always have lemonade now.

And he’s still having some trouble in school, although that’s improving. But at least now he knows his trouble in school doesn’t mean he’s not competent as a person, which is a good thing to know.

 Posted by at 1:37 pm

Wow, Where Did October Go?

 Breeder's Corner, Geek Wannabe  Comments Off on Wow, Where Did October Go?
Nov 012004
 

Seems like just last week I started seeing Halloween candy in the stores, and already it’s November. Happens to me every year; I plan to be ready for Halloween well in advance, and then—surprise!—it’s already past.

The kids, of course, like Halloween even more than I do. At about ten in the morning my youngest asked when we could go trick-or-treating.

“Traditionally people go trick-or-treating at dusk, when it starts to get dark and scary.”

“What’s dusk?”

“That’s when the sun is starting to go down but there’s still some light.”

“What time does that happen?”

“I don’t know.”

He was good; he didn’t nag me or continue asking when we were going to be going out. But he literally paced the floor. He wandered through the house. He looked out the window, checking the light. He wandered back through the house. Checked the window again. After a bit I had pity on the poor kid and looked up twilight times online for him.

“Okay, kid, according to this almanac the sun will start setting at 5:47. How about we start at six?”

“How about 5:47?”

We were the first trick-or-treaters in the neighborhood. Little dude took charge and led the expedition. “Okay, let’s go to that house next. Now let’s go up this street. Don’t cut across their yard.” (We’ve tried to instill that one in them since they were small; I don’t much care if kids wear paths through my yard, but I realize other people do.)

My older son got tired of it well before the youngest. So by the end the younger sprog’s directives were interspersed with his plaintive, “How many more houses are we going to do? Are we very far from home? I guess we have a long way back.”

Still, they both remained cheerful and cooperative, and didn’t argue when I made them eat some dinner before digging into the candy, or when I insisted the candy stay in the kitchen rather than being squirreled away in their rooms. (Dig up fuzzy grey Tootsie Rolls from under the bed just once and you’ll understand this rule.)

Still, it was over too quickly for me. I know I’m always telling myself that next year I’ll be organized ahead of time and have a party or something, but next I really will.

 Posted by at 11:50 am
May 092004
 

I dunno, it seems to me like it’s just another fake holiday tricked up to sell more merchandise. But what the hell, I love my moms—my real one and the one I got via marriage—so I’ll go along with it and get them flowers and/or candy, maybe even a card. And it’s nice when the kids come home from school with their handmade gifts, made just for me.

But when, exactly, did it become part of this little annual tradition that my husband is supposed to get me a Mother’s Day present?

Apparently lots of guys are doing this. I suppose I’m also supposed to be getting him things for Father’s Day. Probably the justification is that he’s expected to show appreciation for the mother of his children, or some similar roundabout crap meant to sell more sparkly geegaws to the masses.

Obviously I’m in a minority here, but I don’t buy it. I’m not his mother, and I think he shows his appreciation every day by slogging through his stressful job so the mother of his children can stay home with them. Maybe this kind of twisted Oedipal thing rocks the boat for the majority of people, but I just can’t get into it. So don’t be trying to guilt my mate because he’s not buying me crap for Mother’s day; the construction-paper flowers my kids made are more than enough for me.

 Posted by at 10:58 am
Bear