Tag Archives: Children

The Law of Averages

The Law of Averages

It is amazing how many children are talented and gifted these days…or let me put it another way, how many parents believe that their child is talented and gifted.  Many parents not only overstate their child’s abilities but they truly believe they have begotten the next Albert Einstein or Jesus of Nazareth (–is that too much, lol) .  It appears that the law of averages has been forgotten amongst a large portion of parents as 8 out of 10 parents will or would claim that their child is above average and is talented and gifted.  Sorry, it is just not true.  Your kid may read and write well for his age but that doesn’t qualify him as the next John Steinbeck.   Sure he can throw a football, doesn’t mean he is Walter Payton.  My daughter can act, doesn’t mean she is the next Katharine Hepburn – nor do I let her think she will be.  It’s great to encourage our kids and watch them learn and excel  but let’s not fill their head with hot air and over-inflate their abilities.  We keep over inflating their abilities and suddenly we have a population that all thinks they are incredible when in fact they are just average and our nation suddenly comes to a standstill as none of these kids are actually as special as they have been lead to believe and really can’t come up with a creative thought, idea, artwork, performance, invention or analysis.  They are now out into the real world facing the reality that they “aren’t all that” and their world will come crashing down and they will inevitably blame their parents (after all, it was the parents who spoon fed their children fallacies).   So not only are we setting them up for failure, we are setting them up to dislike us.  Let’s tell our children they are good at certain things and not good at other things.  Be honest about their abilities – “yes, you can throw a football but your catching isn’t so great, how about we practice that.  Oh and by the way little Jimmy, you need to do better in math as very few people ever get to the NFL. Your education is just as important as your sports.  Your hard work in school and after-school activities will pay off”.  Teach them to work hard with what they have, practice with them on what they are lacking – because every kid lacks something and most kids are just average.


Your child IS or WILL BE a loser!

Life is about winning.  Everyone wants to win; be it in sports, work, and grades – but in reality we all can’t be winners. So many of the teams my kids have been on give out trophies to every child when the season is done – why? So every kid feels special and feels as if they had a stellar season.  When in reality, as my kids have noticed, sometimes their team sucks. Why are we rewarding the kids and making them feel as if they should receive a trophy when their team really didn’t win at all. I don’t think Major League Baseball gives out trophies to the team that comes in last in each division. Losing is a part of life. Your child will not win every game or even make every team. Jobs, especially today, are competitive. Even if your child is  qualified there will be other people that are just as qualified (and some more qualified) and they will get the job (and let’s not forget sometimes its just who you know & has NOTHING to do with your/their qualifications). Your child will not get into every college that they applied to. Your child will not get an A on every test; in fact your child will probably get a D or an F at some point during their school years. Your child will sometimes even make a simple basic decision that will make them a loser. Isn’t learning how to work through those times of failures part of life’s lessons? For instance, when my daughter was 12 years old she kept insisting she was able to take the subway by herself, fly and navigate through an airport by herself, and could possibly even live in an apartment in a big city by herself.  I respectfully disagreed.  Although, she was more capable than most 12 year olds, and even some adults I knew, I just felt she wasn’t aware enough of her surroundings to be completely solo. Yet, a moment came up when she had the opportunity to fly by herself.  She had to do security alone, find her gate, get her ticket, and board.  Guess what happened? She missed the flight! She went to the wrong gate. She sat there and was not aware of her surroundings. By the time she realized her mistake, she ran to the correct gate, just to watch it pull away. Do you think she felt like a winner at that moment? Hell no! She has said how her stomach just dropped and she knew she had made a huge mistake. Did I tell her she was a loser? Hell no! She was hard enough on herself and knew that she had completely failed. But let me tell you, the next day she got up and did it all again PERFECTLY! The best lessons in life are taught by life! She is now aware of her surroundings; she now can navigate airports and subways. She is not complacent when venturing out on her own and pays attention rather than letting her guard down and just assuming all is good. She failed the first time. It was devastating. Her phone call to me was gut-wrenching. But through that losing moment, she gained far more than I could’ve taught her. Let your kids feel what it is like to fail. Let them know that through those failures and losses come bigger and better things. Stop giving them trophies when their team sucks. Losing is part of life, let them get used to it and learn from it!

Nothing clears out a party like a penis!

So I talk my husband into having an “after-party” after a charity auction with some friends – friends who weren’t great friends, as we had just moved to the area but still they had potential to be great friends so why not have them over.  The charity auction went great, we are at out house, it’s going great.  We have all had a few cocktails & I felt it was going flawlessly, this new town might work (we move a lot due to my husbands work, on average every 2 years).  Then, I opened my mouth to tell this funny story about my son from when he was about 3 years old…and let me just say I still think it’s funny despite my “friends” reactions,(and let me also add that my husband was in the living room with the men and I was in the kitchen with the women during this story, yet he could hear me and as soon as I started to speak, he knew I was in trouble.) The women had started talking about the differences between boys & girls and I think this is a great funny story about Charlie, I’m going to share it.  Here it is, pretty much verbatim:

Oh I have a funny boy story about Charlie. He was about 4 and we were late for Victoria’s soccer game. We rushed to the parking lot and I grabbed him from the car and we started  running to her soccer field – with him riding piggy back on me. When  he suddenly exclaimed “Mom my penis is growing.”  It took me a second to really get what he was saying and that yes, as he rubbed up and down on my back as we ran, his penis grew, and he liked it.  I just about threw him off my back as I was laughing so hard yet somewhat grossed out that he was turned on off my piggy back ride, yet still amazed at his little penis.

Faces fell to the floor, conversation halted, no one laughed, no one even chuckled, the party stopped, done, finished, over.  One woman immediately called for her husband, another asked for their coats, and another looked at her watch and said, “oh my it is late, we need to go too”.  REALLY?!  Really?! Over a penis?  Should I have called it something else? Do they not get hard? Hadn’t their boys figured this out too? Do they not “grow” when rubbed up and down? Don’t all young boys figure this out early?  Had none of these women ever seen what a penis can do?  Didn’t they have kids?!  Did their husbands not have a penis?!  Did their husband’s penis not get hard when rubbed?! I was so confused, it’s a funny story, not a party stopper –  what happened?  The silence and awkwardness were amazing.  I never felt anything like it.  They all left.  Left me there with my husband  – who saw me sliding down the slippery slope of penis topics yet couldn’t stop me from crashing & burning.

Needless to say, we didn’t stay in this town long and I don’t think I ever had any of those women over again.

<i still think it’s a funny story>

What’s my body?

While getting ready for school my son asked “What’s my body?”  I didn’t quite understand so I asked him to explain and he says “What’s my body?  Everyone in class knows what their body is and I didn’t.  Am I Jewish?  What am I?”  I replied, “No, you are not Jewish” and he said “Oh Good, because I don’t like Nazi’s”  I then explain the Nazis were German and the Nazis were mean to the Jewish. Now he is sad that he is not Jewish.  I continue and proceed to break his heart a bit more and tell him that he actually has German in him. Now he is even more sad.  He  claims he doesn’t like Germans, and he no longer likes himself if he is German.

This is something I have tried to avoid as I hate labels, I hate that ‘this person is this” or “that person is that” and I have tried to keep my kids from making assumptions or judgments based on ethnic, religious, or even sexual preference.  But Charlie wants to know and he wants a list so he can show his class what is his body.  So I write out his list of what’s in his “body”, which is English, Irish, Austrian, German, French, Italian, Swedish, and Polish.  Upon reading the list, Charlie’s face lights up with joy when he reads that he is Polish.  His school celebrates a different heritage each month and last month was Polish.  He is ecstatic to learn that he has already learned about his body and proceeds to tell me all about Polish heritage.

Perhaps I need to re-think my thoughts on labels…

Get Thee to a Restaurant (nice restaurant)

Take your children out to dinner!  Why is that so hard for some people to understand…and mind you that does not mean McDonalds, Subway, Buffalo Wild Wings, or even Friendly’s, however, for those of you who have never taken them out (other than a McDonalds with the playground) you may need to start with Buffalo Wild Wings or Friendly’s, someplace with real tables and no playground.   Or save your money and take your child to a mid to upscale restaurant at least twice a year, if not more.  Rather than spending your money on fast, unhealthy food, that teaches your child nothing and just packs on the pounds while putting them at a greater risk for getting diabetes (and I am holding back all else that I want to say about food & saving that for a later rant), save the money to take them to a “real” restaurant, a fine dining experience. The sooner you start this, the faster they learn how to behave when at a finer establishment. In the beginning, you may have a few patrons who stare at your 6 month old who is sitting at the table with you and your friends but as the dinner progresses and they realize your child is behaving, they will be coming to your table to compliment you on such a well-behaved baby (and this will continue as your child grows).  The compliments just add to your child’s self-esteem, because they will notice that there are very few other children in these restaurants and they will feel special and empowered.  At the restaurant, make the child stay in their seat; teach them where to put the napkin, which fork is used first, and how to order for themselves. Children have a voice; teach them how to use it.

<stepping off my soapbox now>

An UGGly moment

Nothing like getting your heart racing like a run to the school on a 7 degree day!  So we are walking out of the BACK of our building, and let me stress BACK one more time, like we do everyday on our walk to school, when I realize my daughter has forgotten my UGG boots which she needs for a persuasive speech today (something I am not all too happy about as it’s 7 degrees and I am smooshed into her extra pair of boots which are not Uggs and not as warm and not my size).  I tell her she doesn’t have them and she turns to walk back & then asks if I can just bring them up.  I say yes, but not until 10 -What time is the class that you need them?  She replies 9:15 and keeps walking toward school.  I stop her and ask how she plans to do her speech when the requirement was either a poster board explaining the product you were being persuasive about or the actual product.  She says she will just tell the teacher she has neither right now.  I lose it.  I tell her to turn around and go get the boots as she has an a+ in that class right now, 100% on everything and how can she be willing to lose that grade & Fail when all she has to do is walk to the front of our building and go get the boots.  She tries to argue and I state, the time we have sat here discussing it, you could have already had the boots.  Now, mind you, we can’t get into our building through the back door, but we always leave out of it because it cuts off the coldest part of our route.  So she runs ahead as her brother and I follow.  We see her go up the elevator & then go wait near the back door for her to return.  We wait, and wait, and wait…she never comes, minutes pass by…I walk to the front and ask our doorman if he has seen Ellie leave holding a pair of boots.  He says yes.  Now I am furious!!!  I run back to the back door, grab my son’s hand and book out.  We race through the snow, ice, people, run a red light risking our lives going into the traffic and hearing my poor son, who has cold, keep repeating, I can’t breathe , I can’t  and I reassure him by  repeating, just keep holding my hand, just keep holding my hand. We make it to school just as she is entering the building.  I scream, my own mother finally came out of me, in the most evil loud obnoxious voice ever VICTORIA” – she keeps walking, although all others turn to look.  I scream it again “VIIIICCCCTTOOORRRRIIIIAA” – she stops (I think I scared myself more than her as I truly could hear my own mother’s voice screaming my name).  I get up to her, in the entrance of the school, with my finger pointing and say “what are you doing?”  She smiles at me.  It takes all I can not to smile back and I have to remind myself to be angry and to be just like my mother right now.  I tell her “Since when do we use the front door.  You knew darn well what you were doing when you walked out. You were angry with me for making you go back so you intentionally opted to use the front door. How would I know where you are? If you were at school?  What about your brother?  If the doorman hadn’t seen you, I would not know where you were, or where you went or how you disappeared…and let me tell you I would’ve walked into your classroom to look for you -(her ultimate fear that I actually show up in front of her friends and they realize she has a mother).  I then finish it, with a “get inside and get to school and your lucky I caught you out here.”

Not sure how to end it and I am out of time as I really do have to be back @ school @ 10 and its now 930….