Juggling Life

Uncontrolled Chaos

There’s a reason I’m a control freak. Every time I experiment with not being one, everything goes straight to hell.

Danger Boy and Social Butterfly were supposed to be on the 6:05 flight home from Denver Sunday night. I could have called or texted to make sure everyone was on schedule, but I didn’t want to give the impression that I didn’t think they could handle things on their own. I didn’t want to be naggy and controlling.

How did that work out you ask?

Not so well, I admit.

It turns out the they thought they were leaving Denver at what was their arrival time in San Diego. So . . . flight missed, standby for the last flight out, no seats on that flight and the prospect of either sleeping at the airport or going back to MVP’s house and hitting the road at 3:30 a.m. to make the early flight.

Thankfully a wonderful young gate agent (thanks, Kate!) took pity on them and confirmed them on a later morning flight for Monday. She talked to MVP on the phone—SB and DB were handling everything themselves because MVP couldn’t go through security—and could not have been nicer. Then she talked to me on the phone and let me gush over her exemplary customer service and general human kindness.

Then I got on the Southwest website and gushed over her on a feedback form.

Now I’m going to plan the rest of my week to the nth degree and wallow in my adult child of alcoholics control freakiness to my heart’s content. If it ain’t broke, why fix it?!

The Way to A High-Schooler’s Heart . . .

Jenn (to Danger Boy and Social Butterfly): Who knows, I could end up subbing for one of your classes. What should I do to be a good sub?

Social Butterfly: Hand out candy and let the kids do what they want. For sure let them listen to their iPods.

Danger Boy: Actually, you can even ask questions about books and stuff—just throw candy to the people that answer.

. . . is candy!

Leaving on a Jet Plane

Since teenagers aren’t much for posing for pictures in public places—like the airport security line—this was the best I could do. Danger Boy and Social Butterfly are off for a snowboarding weekend in Colorado with MVP. Did I ever mention I’d like to be reincarnated as my own child?

Southwest had an awesome 3-day sale a couple of months ago. I scored two round-trip tickets to Denver for $212. That’s practically giving them away, right?

I must say thanks to all the acquaintances that have pointed out to me that three of my children will be together in a car on a snowy mountain road in a state 1,000 miles away. Thanks! I hadn’t thought of that. And those of you that mentioned that I sure was trusting to leave my innocent 15-year old daughter alone in a house with several college boys? Thanks, again! You rock!(Since two of those boys are her very protective older brothers I think it will be okay).

On the upside they will get some serious bonding time in as they risk life and limb without parental supervision in Vail.

On another note . . .

The chest x-ray was negative (for both Tuberculosis and lung cancer) which is all kinds of awesome. However, since a positive TB test indicates inactive TB, the CDC now recommends a 6-9 month course of Isoniazid—which is hard on your liver. So I’m reading up about false-positives and all other manner of TB info. Because honestly, I cannot imagine where I would have been exposed to TB. I mean I don’t even travel to the bad parts of San Diego—let alone developing countries that would put me at risk of contracting TB.

The school nurse that did my test has only had one other person test positive in her career—and school nurses do a boatload of tests. This is very odd to say the least.

At least I’ll have plenty of time to look into this matter this weekend—Mr. Fix-it is away on business, which means I have three whole days at home alone. It’s every mother’s dream! Just think . . . I will return to a house exactly as I left it. I’m a little verklempt just thinking of it.

So besides internet research what will I be up to? Dinner with friends here Friday night, lunch with a friend on Saturday and book group here on Sunday. I don’t think I’ll have a chance to get too lonely!

Talking: Not just THE TALK

The review of the Body Scoop for Girls book generated lots of comments and lots of questions.

My point was that in order to be able to talk to your teens about sex, you have to start the conversation when your kids are little. The big question was how do you talk to your young children about sex.

This was how MommyTime put it:

And what exactly do you say to a 7 year old about sex? I'm serious. My just-turned-six-er just recently asked "how the baby got in there in the first place, and how it gets out," and I gave a kind of vague answer about how the mom and dad have to decide together that they are ready for a baby before a new one will grow. I was in the middle of trying to juggling a crying 3 yr old and the cooking of dinner, so it wasn't really the time for a conversation. But I want to be better prepared for the next question because I'm not exactly sure how much is too much info for a 6 yr old. Input? Books to suggest aimed at the younger set? I'm all about being honest and forthright, but I do think that there are some details that are better saved for maturer heads -- though it's hard to know precisely where to draw the line...

Thanks for getting me thinking about this again.

First off, I’d say thinking about it is extremely important. You want to have an idea of what you want to say before the questions are asked. That way you don’t have to pick your jaw up off the floor and start sweating profusely.

And you won’t do what my friend Holley, who meant to be honest with her kids did, and tell your daughter the baby comes out through the belly button.

For me that meant I always used proper names for body parts so that when they did ask questions they had the terminology to understand the answers. When they did ask I gave a simple, but correct answer.

This is how CalamitySandra answered her four-year old:

When my then 4 year old asked about the baby in my belly, I told him that grown-ups sometimes do something that is called sex. Grown ups do this sex thing because it feels very good to them, but also because it is possible to create a baby that way.

Part of this sex thing is, that the man puts his erect penis into the womans vagina. After some time, something called semen comes out of the penis.
Sometimes one tiny, teeny little semen cell swims all the way deeper into the woman, into a organ called the uterus. There it is possible that it meets something called a egg, but this one is much, much smaller than the eggs you know. When a semen cell and an egg meet, the kind of melt together, and out of them starts to grow the baby. Made from something of their Mommy and Daddy together.

The baby grows in the Mommies belly for about 40 weeks, and when it is ready to be born the muscles in the Mommies belly start to contract, and help the baby out into the world by pushing it out though the vagina.

Depending on  your kid, their eyes might glaze over before paragraph two and they may wander off, but you’ve set the precedent of an honest and complete answer. It’s also your clue to make sure there are books around the house that are at your child’s level.

That response may be too detailed for you, but I tend to think it falls in the category of “they’ll take what they want and leave the rest.”

If you just search Amazon you’re sure to find books that suit your needs—plus, I remember finding many books at the library.

Suburban Correspondent and I are on the same page as far as seizing any and all opportunities to talk about sex and values.

Even listening to the radio (NPR) gives plenty of opportunities to talk about sex and AIDS and moral behavior! I hand the kids a book to get the basics (sorry, I just cannot stand watching them squirm while I tell them); and then I build on it every time something comes up in the paper or on the radio. Tiger Woods, ex-Governor Edwards, any stupid starlet, they are all openers on what is smart behavior and what isn't.

And now that we have such a colorful euphemism as "hiking the Appalachian trail," it's that much more fun to discuss!

I even wrote a post about the importance of the Meatloaf song, Paradise by the Dashboard Lights, in talking to my kids about the dangers of teen sex.

The dinnertime conversation about blow jobs definitely piqued everyone’s interest. I’m sure we’ve had more than one, but the one that stands out came from my attending the parent preview of the health curriculum for the middle school when MVP was in 6th grade.

(There was a mother there who was of the opinion that her 13-year old son had never had one thought about sex until the permission slips for the health class came home.

Hmmm. A 13-year old boy that has never thought about sex? Hahahahahaha.)

That was before the school nurse presented the information on the number of eighth-graders that were actually engaging in oral sex. Shocking. Of course my husband and I talked about it with the kids. At the dinner table. Yes, it meant we had to explain what a blow job was to a 7-year old (our youngest), but I’m convinced it was the right thing to do. (She was suitably disgusted by the explanation).

It was because of all the openness that I had this conversation with my youngest son. You should definitely click. It’s a very funny story.

On the subject of books for adolescent boys, I don’t feel there is as good a selection as there is for girls (though that may have changed in the last few years), but my boys did have a book by my favorite author for anything boy-related, Michael Gurian. It is From Boys to Men: All about Adolescence and You.

I hope this helps—and generates more discussion. I was very lucky that I had a mother that was open and frank with me, and it was really important for me to be that same kind of mother with my own children.

Talk—it does a family good!

Sometimes it Does Rain in Southern California

Thanks for all the well-wishes--I had my x-ray today and as soon as I know something I will share with you.

This was the view from my family room window last week. I was happy to be on the inside. We got as much rain last week as we usually get in a year. Which isn’t much for a lot of you, but is a real change of pace for us weather wimps in San Diego.

This song really brings back the memories. When I was a kid the top 40 stations would play this every hour on rainy days. My mom and sister and I loved to sing along as we cruised along in our Nash Rambler—which may be retro and cool now, but was a downright embarrassment in 1971! The paint job on my mom’s car looked much like this—only in blue. Believe me, when she got a 10-year old Buick in 1976 it felt like to us like we’d gotten a Rolls Royce!

The Post That Inspired a Post (But Not Today)

I loved the comments and questions on yesterday’s book review. So much so that am I going to address them in a separate post. Just not today. The hour is late and I am tired.

I made three separate trips down to or around the 8—which means something if you’re a San Diegan. Suffice it to say I clocked a lot of miles on the speedometer today.

One of the trips was to fill out paperwork to get on the sub list for one of the school districts. Yay! I should be processed shortly.

However, they needed me to take a TB test (even though I had one in August from my primary care physician and it was negative), which was read today. It came back positive. Now I know I don’t have TB and it was a false positive; nonetheless I will be having a chest x-ray tomorrow. (Saying a little thank you for good health insurance and a responsive doctor).

Because I’m nothing if not an optimist, I’ve decided to be excited about my impending chest x-ray. Since I carry with me constantly (but distantly) the fear of having lung cancer (it is what my mother and sister both died from) I’m looking at the chest x-ray as a chance to stop worrying for a little while—I’d say it will be good for about a year of complacency. You can’t reasonably use yearly chest x-rays as a screening tool because all that radiation will certainly cause you to develop some cancer, but once in a while . . .!

In other news, I walked for over an hour with a friend tonight. We couldn’t synchronize schedules to get going until 8 p.m. and yet we persevered.

So . . . good night and if you want to think good thoughts about me having neither tuberculosis or lung cancer that would be great!

Straight Talk About Sex and Other Stuff (A Book Review)

I’ve mentioned before that one of my favorite perks of blogging is getting books to review. Reading is my favorite past-time and sharing my opinion is a close second. Plus, did I mention? Free books.

When I got the invite to review this book, I didn’t hesitate for a second. You know what I think about giving girls accurate information—even when the results are hilarious and embarrassing.

Since I have access to some girls just the right age to weigh in on this book, I availed myself of the opportunity. I turned these two loose with the book with instructions to report back.

As it turns out, Social Butterfly’s friend Peanut, may have a future as a book reviewer herself. I’m just going to quote her and call it a day!

I liked the book for many reasons. I thought the book was very enjoyable to read and very informative. The author wrote it in a way that any girl in my grade, maybe even younger, would understand.

It was funny and cute the way she would put “eh?” and things like that. She wrote it in a teen kind of way and I thought that was a good idea. I also liked how basically every chapter she'd write a short story about something she went through or how her patients tell her things and ask for help. Just the stories give you help and advice. But then there are also the "did you know" sections, true or false, rules, facts and other little boxes that are spread out around the whole book.

There is a section called, “The Wait-Till-Eighteen Club: Why Membership Has Its Privileges” giving her opinion why teenagers should wait. I thought that if someone who was thinking of having sex, this would help them stop themselves.

The book gives information that some people may be too scared or embarrassed to ask anyone. Then there’s a part, where if someone was planning on having sex, it gives you the many choices on how to be safe. Even if the reader wasn’t ready it still shows the options and informs you about them.

Another good thing is its not all about sex. There’s a story where a patient of hers gets a piercing that she regrets, and she helps her take it out. The book also covers healthy foods to eat, information about drinking, smoking and cancer, and many more topics.

Overall the book is really helpful on helping you know your body. If anyone had any questions going in the book I’m pretty positive all of them would be answered by the time you read the whole thing.

I second all of the above. The girls and I agreed that the author, Dr. Jennifer Ashton, writes in a style that makes you feel like your getting information from your favorite aunt—the one that is your mother’s younger, hipper sister.

I’m going to throw in my seasoned mom advice here—the book is fantastic, but the most important thing is that you be having conversations with your kids about sex. The way to be able to accomplish openness and exchanges of accurate information is to start talking to them when they’re very young and never stop. To those people who can’t imagine talking to a seven-year old about sex, I say, “if you can’t talk sex with your seven-year old, you will never be able to talk sex with your 17-year old.”

My strategy has been to use popular media—music, TV, magazines—to get the conversations rolling. The health units in school are also great for this purpose. The bottom line though is that you have to be comfortable enough to talk about anything. We have actually had dinner table conversations about blow jobs. If you only have little kids this may sound crazy, but if you have teens you know this is something that needs to be discussed.

Social Butterfly, Peanut and I all give this book an enthusiastic thumbs-up. If you’ve got a daughter, niece or friend that’s a teenager, this book would make a great addition to her library.

Setting me Straight

Danger Boy, Social Butterfly and were talking about something nice I’d done for someone.

Jenn: And you all think I’m so mean.

Danger Boy: What? We never said you were mean!

Social Butterfly: He’s right, sometimes we say you’re stupid, but we never say you’re mean.

Well, alright then.

Commentating the Decline of the Western Civilization

I believe it was David Sedaris who made the following statement (which I am seriously paraphrasing and possibly attributing incorrectly) about being one of the younger kids in a big family. “By the time my youngest sibling was a teenager my parents’ only rule was, ‘please don’t smoke pot in the living room while we have company.’”

I won’t claim to have sunk to that parenting low, but I have relaxed substantially about some things.

When my kids were much younger I definitely engaged in censorship regarding the media. I was a little stricter than the Motion Picture Association of America as far as age levels for movie viewing. However, anyone with a large family will tell you that it is well-nigh impossible to maintain the same standards for the younger children as you had for the older ones. Mostly because the older ones are not going to watch Blue’s Clues or Escape to Witch Mountain.

In that spirit, I must admit I watch Jersey Shore.  Let me explain why.

First off, there are my kids—four of them, ages 15-24. Then there was winter break where everyone was home. Add to the the TiVo, and suddenly here I am, having seen every episode of Jersey Shore.

This show is a train wreck in the Real World style (a show I’ve never watched more than a few moments of), done as only MTV can do reality. The young adults on this TV show are so lacking in any redeeming qualities that it boggles the mind.

The cast’s stupidity and vapidity are even more startling when contrasted with the fact that they think they are good people. I’m going to bring their looks into this only because they themselves focus so much on them. All I can say is that I don’t share their vision of “hot” at all. Because they all they think they are hot and I would liken them more to trolls.

So, why do I watch? I watch because I know my kids are watching and I want to know what the influences in their lives are.

That, and I can beseech them with requests along the lines of, “Promise you will never, ever dress like Snooki. Seriously, promise me!” and implore that “You realize that limiting your life to GTL (Gym, Tanning and Laundry) like The Situation and Pauly D is pathetic, don’t you?” That and “You are aware that kicking someone’s ass doesn’t make you a man/woman, right?”

My kids have suggested that MTV should show episodes of Jersey Shore w/mom commentary—since they don’t get to watch the show in peace they’re not sure why anyone else should be allowed to either!

CHASE this . . .

What is the point of having a blog if you can’t rant about horrible customer service by giant corporations?!

I’m pretty sure our married life started off with us banking at Home Federal Savings (now defunct, natch) which was taken over by Washington Mutual, affectionately known as WAMU. I’d say we had a good 22 years of, if not delight with our bank, then satisfaction. Which is really all I ask for in a bank.

You may be familiar with a little thing called the economic meltdown of the aughts. WAMU bit the dust and CHASE took over.

Put simply, my thoughts about CHASE are this: YOU SUCK!

I wasn’t happy when a deposit of $800 went missing and it took them a month to “research” the matter before giving us our money.

I wasn’t happy when I got a call telling me the payment on our HELOC was late when I was sure it had been made.

I wasn’t happy that the reason our payment was late was because CHASE changed our HELOC account number, but still let us make a payment to the old account number. So, money debited, but never credited.

To say I was not happy when CHASE researched the matter and in correcting their mistake made yet another mistake by crediting the payment as a “curtailment” would be an understatement of mammoth proportion. I have no idea what the whole “curtailment” thing is about, but it does mean that CHASE still thinks we’re late.

Why yes, I actually do mind going into the branch and spending yet another big chunk of time with the very nice branch manager who is no doubt horribly embarrassed by the mistakes the corporation she works for is making while she arranges for me to get a letter describing this whole fiasco so that I can send it to all the credit reporting agencies. Because guess what, CHASE? I sure as hell don’t trust you to make sure a late payment is not reported.

Even though you apologized and made a promise to correct this I just don’t think I’m up to trusting you. Because, as I may have said earlier, as far as I’m concerned, you really, really suck. And that? Is not what I’m looking for in a bank.