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My Son Has His Own Sense of Fashion (gasp!)

I knew that the Munchkin needed some new board shorts.   It just so happened that a fairly well-known surf brand was having a sale, so I did a little reconnaissance.

Sure enough, they had a bunch of styles, all at a pretty good price.

I was by myself, and I was tempted to get him the style that I normally buy for him, which tends to be colorful and include some sort of Hawaiian-related floral element. Children Fashion

Because, duh, I’m a girl.

But then I thought to myself that perhaps a nine year old boy would not appreciate flowers on his shorts, and tried to remember that he is definitely at the age where his clothing is being judged, especially by his peers.  Not that there is anything wrong with flowers on board shorts, in my opinion, but they just aren’t really in style in my area of the country right now.

I wound up choosing instead a green-gray  plaid, which also had a very subtle camo element going through the fabric. Normally I despise camo on “civilian” clothing, but ever since my husband took him here, my son has been very pro-military. Which, fine, I’m technically pro-military myself.

He loved them.

He then told me that he was very relieved that I didn’t get him any with flowers, as one of his older friends had been making fun of his other board shorts.  You know, the ones with flowers on them.  And while I am very aware that it was just teasing, and truly kids will tease other kids about pretty much anything, I was glad that for that one moment, I wasn’t THAT MOM.

You know, the one who buys their nine year old boy shorts with flowers on them.

CDF 2.0

Clash of the clan Stewart!

VERSUS

Things I Hate: Football

There, I said it.

Some sort of blasphemy here in the United States, I’m sure.

I’m not a fan of either college or professional football, and never have been.  I grew up in an area that did not in any way revolve around football the way many towns do, so perhaps geography plays a large part.

I don’t care so much about adult football players, they are of course adults, and can choose to do what they wish.  It’s all the young football players out there, getting repetitive brain injuries that really get my goat.

I cannot understand for the life of me why parents willingly sign their children up for this violent sport.  And the banners around town can say “touch” football all they want, everybody knows they still tackle each other.  Indeed, are encouraged to tackle each other.

I will never forget in kindergarten when a classmate of my son’s was absent for almost a week.  When he came back to school, I asked his mom if he was OK.  She told me a harrowing tale of how he sustained a neck injury in football practice (he was 5!) that could have led to him being paralyzed if he hadn’t received immediate medical attention.  And yet, he still was back to playing as soon as the doctor signed him off!

I understand that in any sport, there are physical risks that come with the territory.  But in football, it just seems like you are asking to be injured, and it’s abnormal if you have never been.

My husband played football all through high school, and he has absolutely forbidden our son to play football until he is at least of high school age.  Which pretty much means he won’t ever be on a football team, because most people don’t just walk onto the football field without ever playing and make the team.

I’m totally fine with that.

Things I Hate: “Final Score” License Plate Frames

It’s totally irrational, I freely admit it.

But it annoys me to no end to see a family dynamic that is fairly uncontrollable (unless possibly adopting a particular sex) played out as competition.

The one up in the picture I can sort of live with, but I saw one today that caused me a fair amount of rage.

Instead of a simple boys vs. girls, it had “Boys 2, Princess 1.”

Ugh.

Let’s not show any favoritism here or anything.  Nothing like letting everyone in the Southern California region know that you think your daughter is a cute, adorable princess and your boys are just, well, boys.  Whatever.

Now if it had said “Princes 2, Princess 1″ I would have been totally fine with it.

Perhaps I have a certain sensitivity when it comes to girl favoritism when it comes to my in-laws, who definitely fawn over the granddaughters much more than the grandsons.  And of course, they have almost twice as many grandsons.

Fine, fine.  It’s totally a personal problem.  I’ll just go away and sulk in a corner by myself.

Monday Teeny Poll

So 43% of you are just fine with the Unbaby.me app that removes all bubbeh pics from your Facebook feed.  26% are like, whatever, 17% say if you dislike babies that much, just unfriend the person already, and 13% of you are not even on Facebook.

Today’s question is regarding the recent change in policy to male infant circumcision.  It seems that a peer-reviewed study has shown that the benefits of circumcision outweigh the risks, and the AAP is stopping just short of recommending routine infant circumcision.

Home Alone?

I take my daughter to speech therapy twice a week for an hour.  The office is less than five minutes from my house, and because of the whole homeschooling thing, I have to bring my soon-to-be 10 year old along with us every time.

Which, you know, on the grand scale of things, is not really that big of a deal.  They have an observation room that we sit in, and we either read books or play games on the Kindle.  Well, usually it is me reading a book and him playing the games.

For almost all of my upper elementary years into high school, I was a stereotypical latch-key kid.  I would take the bus to my grandmother’s house, go into the backyard and over into the garage, where the house key would be waiting for me, tucked into a compartment in the water heater cabinet.  I would let myself in, watch television, maybe get a drink, and my grandmother or grandfather would be home from work in two hours or so.  My grandparents were very young, and didn’t hit retirement age until I was almost in high school.

I never had any issues or problems during those latch-key years.  No person trying to rob the house or salesmen knocking on the door.  Or, if there was someone purporting to be a salesman, I simply didn’t answer the door at all.

Even though he will be 10 in less than a month, my son has a fairly good head on his shoulders.  I know he is definitely not the type to light something on fire just for the hell of it, or make prank phone calls.  He just doesn’t have that type of temperament, and never has.

I was toying with the idea of possibly leaving him here for the hour that I am away at speech therapy, what with being so close and it admittedly being quite boring for him during the sessions.

My state has no age limit as to when a child can legally be left at home alone.  It’s more of a “you can make the decision yourself, but there will be hell to pay if you make the wrong one” type of thing.

At what age, if ever, did your parents leave you home alone?

The Mess Maker

My son recently spent some time with some relatives and slept over for a few days.

Over the course of those few days, I couldn’t help but notice how clean my kitchen was.

You see, I don’t make my son most of his meals or snacks during the day, I want him to learn how to make his own meals.  Most of the time he will just boil some pasta and have some spaghetti, or will make himself a sandwich, or oatmeal, or something of that nature.  Nine year olds are not usually known for their demand for culinary artistry.

Besides, I figure he will thank me when he is living on his own and not having to subsist solely on Cup o’Noodle.

But a fact that has always hovered in the back of my mind came to light when I realized that my kitchen counter could indeed make it through the day without being littered with bread crumbs or spilled tomato sauce or smudged butter.  Not to mention the floor immediately below the main preparation area.  Practically sparkling! Not a spilled oat in sight!

He came back today and even though I missed him, I did not miss the time I spend cleaning up after his, ah, kitchen adventures.   I mean, I have to call it an adventure, because mere cooking does not somehow propel pasta in a five foot radius from the counter.

But I suppose that is the price I have to pay if I want him to take over all of the dinner-making one day.

CDF 2.0

The hunky Chris Hemsworth beat out the only slightly less hunky Cristiano Ronaldo to win last week.

Now I’m bringing a professional basketball player into the ring.

VERSUS

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