Archive for the Category »Kids «

Nov

“Mom, I need to cook you guys something.” 13-year-old announced to me out of the blue.

“That sounds good…..but why?” me.

“My Life Skills teacher told us that for extra credit, we can cook something for our families over Thanksgiving break.” 13-year-old.

“Great. You can cook the turkey.” me.

“No!” the kid laughed, “I have to cook one of the recipes we got from class.”

After reviewing all our options, we decided on garlic bread.

“All you have to do is to wait to be served, eat, and grade me on the grading paper my Life Skills teacher gave me.” 13-year-old.

Extra credit cooking grading sheet

But before I got back down to the couch, I was handed a piece of paper, with a short list of ingredients, and was immediately dispatched to the grocery story to fetch a sourdough bread, Parmesan cheese, and garlic salt.

Oh well, it is for extra credit, and we are suckers for extra credit. I went off to this unexpected shopping trip thinking happy thoughts.

When I returned, my 13-year-old took the ingredients, and ordered me out of the kitchen. Apparently, this extra credit was strictly against parental interference. I watched my young teen dropped the sourdough bread on the cutting board, and hacked at the sourdough bread, sending little pieces of bread crumbs flying in all directions.

Next, she took the butter out of our refrigerator. The butter was ice cold and unspreadable. So, the butter was butchered into ugly lumpy pieces, and roughly laid on the bread.

Then, she sprinkled garlic salt and Parmesan cheese to the bread, and put it in the oven to broil until it turned brown.

When the oven dinged, the entire kitchen and family room were filled with the delicious smell of garlic and hot butter.

The butter and the cheese had melted beautifully, leaving no evidence that they had previously looked hideous.

The garlic bread was served with a deliberate big smile, and presented with the kind of sophistication atypical with garlic bread.

The Garlic Bread presentation

As the rest of the family admired the unusual presentation, and savored the taste, the 13-year-old scrubbed the entire kitchen clean!

Kid scrubbing the kitchen clean, down to the sink!

Mrs S., THANK YOU for this brilliant idea!

All this took about 30 – 45 minutes and the kid was exhausted. That’s when I decided to read the grading sheet. At the top, I noticed something extremely depressing.

EXTRA CREDIT RECIPE
Each recipe worth 2 extra credit points

Two Points?!!

…All that work, for two extra credit points!! This poor child is still wanting to make two other recipes. Somebody need to teach this kid a thing or two about “bang for your buck.”

Category: Kids Leave a Comment

Nov

Lunch is not for profit

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“Do you have lunch money today?” I asked casually as I drove my 13-year-old to school this morning.

“…Give me a twenty.” the kid held out an open hand.

“Do you still have lunch money left?” me.

“You said that you will give me $20 a week.” 13-year-old.

Fishy….the kid is not answering my question.

“I could give you $20, but I noticed that you are eating very cheaply these days.” me.

“I still want my $20 a week!” the young teen demanded.

“Yesterday you had flatbread and some grapes…is that like a dollar fifty?” me.

“$2.25!! But that was more than what I usually spend.” kid. My 13-year-old is rather honest.

“Just look into your bag, and tell me how much money you have?” me.

Kid reached into her school bag, and counted her money.

“Thirteen dollars.” kid.

“Ha, ha, ha, that’s plenty money to buy yourself lunch for the rest of the week. Come to me when you run out of lunch money.” me.

“No! I purposely eat cheap to save my lunch money. So I can buy stuff.” 13-year-old stuck out her open hand further into my face.

School lunch tray

I pushed her hand aside.

“The lunch money is meant for you to eat a healthy and balanced lunch. You can not make money from your lunch money. Your lunch is a non-profit!” I lay down this necessary new rule.

“Oh.” kid.

Many hours later…

After school I asked her, “So what did you eat for lunch today?”

“Pizza, fries, cookie, beef jerky, apple, water, yogurt.” kid.

Previous related posts: Debt vs. Wealth
Teaching Green
Money Well Spent?

Category: Humor, Kids 2 Comments

Oct

When You Do Business with Kids…

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“Mom! Can you buy one hundred items this year?” the baby asked with an unusual amount of excitement and anticipation.

Eying the familiar Christmas catalog, I shoot back, “Don’t be crazy! I can’t use 100 rolls of Christmas wrapping paper.”

Every year around this time, my kids come home from school with their holiday shopping catalogs, and approach me as if I am an ATM for their schools’ fall fund-raising events.

I do participate in these events every year, but I just buy a few items. This year was different. The baby had an all purposeful self-imposed goal of selling 100 items.

“Look!” the baby pointed to the award sheet, “If I can sell 100 items, I will win a portable refrigerator!!”

Fundraising catalog featuring SUPER prizes

“Cool.” 13-year-old, “We WANT a portable refrigerator!!”

The kids have long fantasized about owning a portable refrigerator. They think if they have their own refrigerator, they will be able to declare their independence on me.

“I will take your catalog to my school, and sell it to all my friends.” 13-year-old.

Good riddance! I am tired of buying Christmas wrapping paper and Christmas cookies from their catalog every year. I am happy that they are planning to find new customers.

A week went by, the 13-year-old sold a whopping 6 items. I refused the baby’s request to buy 94 more items.

Since our PTA required one check payment for all the items sold, I wrote the check for the total payment due, and told my 13 year-old to turn in all the cash payments to me.

I was dismayed to receive all the cash in the form of a messy stack of wrinkly one dollar bills, and a plastic bag of heavy quarters. (They also short changed me a dollar and fifty. I wasn’t disappointed. I feared worse.)

Dollar bills and coins payment

When you do business with kids, you get paid with piggy bank money.

The baby won 6 fake mustaches for selling 6 items.

Previous related post: The Editor and the Shoe Cleaner

Category: Humor, Kids 2 Comments

Oct

A New Experience

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I was really mad with a bottle of ice tea!

For the past two days, I attacked at it like a frantic baboon…it refused to open.

I first took it to a local park with me to watch my kids’ volleyball practice. But instead of sipping tea and enjoying the games, I kept twisting at it with all my might, until my fingers were raw and pink. The cursed cap won’t budge. I grew ever more pissed off (and thirsty) during the volleyball practice.

Last night, just when I opened the fridge to start making dinner, I saw that bottle of ice tea sitting there, and wanted to drink it.

Stubborn fool!! (The bottle, not me.) My fingers turned raw and pink again. I shook my hand to ease the pain.

Then I remembered that I have this special lid opener tool.

Lid Opener

My husband had brought it for me about a year ago to compensate for my weak arms. At the time, I had chided him when he presented it to me. “I don’t need this! I know how to open bottles!” I had said defensively to him.

Well, last evening, I searched desperately for it, opening this and that drawer. I found it.

I strapped the belt on the cap, pulled to tighten it, and twisted the handle. Epic fail.

The cap is too small for the tool. The belt couldn’t fit around the cap tight enough to do the job.

Aaahhh… I stomped my foot and punched the air around my kitchen.

My unsympathetic 10-year-old giggled from the family room, and said, “You still can’t open it, huh.”

Then my 13-year-old just walked into the kitchen to raid the fridge. She took note of the two of us, and said, “What’s happening?”

“She still can’t open that bottle! It has been two days.” 10-year-old laughing.

The 13-year-old closed the fridge door, took the bottle, twisted it OPEN, put it down, said, “Here you go.”

10-year-old exploded into an obnoxious laughter. But I wasn’t laughing. I was in a state of shock.

Opened!

How did this happen? I was the one who always twisted the bottles open for them.

Previous related post: Crazy for Bubble Pop

Category: Kids, Parents One Comment

Sep

Give Me My “A” Back!!!

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A couple of weeks ago, my 10-year-old came home from school visibility upset. The baby got a “B” on a math test.

Since she was already feeling the punch of the “B”, there was no need for me to scream bloody murder and raise more hell. I laid low.

Despite my calmness, my baby suffered a long time under all that gloom. She sheepishly told me that she didn’t deserve this “B”.

I examined the test paper, and said, “It looks like a B to me.”

Last Thursday, my husband and I attended our school’s Back To School night. After the classroom presentation, we went to introduce ourselves to the baby’s teacher. Mrs. D is new to our school this year.

“Oh, so you are the parents. Let me tell you something that just happened yesterday.” Mrs. D said cheerfully.

“Your daughter seemed awfully quiet.” Mrs. D started.

Yes, my 10-year-old is a child of a few words. Unlike my 13-year-old, who can blabber until I grew a headache, my 10-year-old is not doing her fair share of talking. I often worry about the baby being too silent.

Mrs. D continued, “Yesterday, at the end of the school. I noticed her lingering, and she waited until all the kids left the room, then approached my desk.”

I listened intently, nodding and smiling.

“She stood in front of me, with a piece of paper in her hands. So, we looked at each other, then I asked her, ‘do you need something?’” Mrs. D.

“She said, ‘Yes. I got a “B” on this math test. But I got a “A” on the REAL test. I want my “A” back.’” Mrs. D.

Mrs. D broke into a laughter, “So, I asked her, ‘how do you know that you got an “A” on that test?’”

“And she said, ‘because you went over all the answers on that test, then you recycled them.’” Mrs. D.

A couple of weeks ago, the class took a math test. Mrs. D quickly discovered that the kids did very poorly on this test. Out of the kindness of her heart, Mrs. D went over the test answers, offered the kids a new make-up test, and tossed the REAL tests into the recycle bin.

Except not all the kids needed that make-up test. My baby had aced the REAL test.

I was incredibly happy walking out of the school that evening. I sometimes worried about my 10-year-old. If she is too quiet and unable to fend for herself. That night, I felt a sense of relief, that when it comes to things that mattered to her, when push comes to shove, she will shove the “B” back, and demand the “A”.

P.S. Mrs. D and the baby made some kind of deal together with that math test.

Category: Kids Leave a Comment

Sep

Fear No More!

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Everybody suffers from irrational fear, right? I have two of them.

I am deathly afraid of falling off of a blackened rocky cliff, and into a boiling river of hot lava. Seriously. I think I was traumatized by one of the Indiana Jones movies when I was a teen.

I attribute my other irrational fear to a totally random and insignificant chat I had with a co-worker just after college. We had lunch one day, and I discovered that she does not eat chicken.

I felt bad for her, since everything is known to taste like chicken.

She then proceeded to volunteer to me that she and a brother were raised by their single mother. One day, her brother came home from school and declared that he will no longer eat red meat. Since she never ate chicken, their poor mother can only cook fish. She grew so sick of fish!

I could no longer remember her name or what she looked like, but the conversation stuck. Over the years, I grew this deep fear that one or both of my children will return home from school one day a vegetarian! Worse, they will become one of those self righteous vegetarians, who will sit on imaginary high horses, looking down on other people whose diet include animal meat. My head allowed this fear to advance until I will no longer be allowed to eat meat. FREAKING NIGHTMARE! Right?!

I think I could put one of my fears to rest. Last Sunday, we went out to dinner. And this is what my 13-year-old drew on the kids menu:

I love you Future Bacon

Category: Humor, Kids, Parents Leave a Comment

Sep

Attack of the Polka Dots

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“Baby. Your room makes my dizzy.” I remarked to my 10-year-old casually as I laid in bed with her as part of our nightly bedtime ritual.

The baby giggled triumphantly.

Two weeks ago, I had given in, and allowed my 10-year-old to move forward with her plans to assault her own bedroom walls.

In the past few years, my two children had shared one bedroom. Back then, the kids had tremendous love for one and another, craved constant closeness, and demanded to be in the same room.

This all changed suddenly just a few months ago, when the then 12-year-old decided to christen her sail into the turbulent teenage waters by kicking the little one out of her room.

The baby did not take this well. Every time this subject came up, the baby would turn into a pitiful mess, with pouting lips and teary eyes.

Hubby suggested to painting the room as a way to coax the baby back into her own room. It wasn’t my favorite idea, but it did bring an approving smile onto the baby’s face.

As the weeks went by, our newly minted 13-year-old was getting increasing anxious to get this unwelcome occupier out of her room.

“Alright! Paint the other room.” I said to my husband.

Paint supplies

Hubby took our 10-year-old to Lowe’s, and they came back with green and purple paint. At least they didn’t come back with the cringe worthy orange, I comforted myself.

Then I witnessed my husband painstakingly making the most perfect circles out of cardboards.

“What are you doing?” I asked gently.

“We are making polka dot walls.” hubby.

“Oh. How many walls?” me.

“We’ll see.” hubby, still concentrating on his circle.

“One wall! You can have ONE polka dotted wall. The other three will just have solid colors.” me, issued my orders that clearly meant to be followed.

Polka Dots everywhere!

Arrh….

As I laid in the darken room with the baby, the hallway lighting gave the polka dots all around me a slight fluorescent glow.

Fluorescent glowing polka dots

Despite these mocking walls, I treasure these moments to pet my baby to sleep every night. I knew now that in a couple more years, the baby too will tower into adolescent stinkiness, put up a “Do Not Disturb” sign on her door, and turn me away.

When that time comes, I plan to paint our own master bedroom really happy. I will have rainbows and unicorns.

Category: Kids, Parents Leave a Comment

Aug

The Great Impala Poop Adventure

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Tomorrow is my kids first day of school. I woke this morning and suddenly grew worried that my kids had too much fun this summer, and had done nothing in any shape or form to keep their brains sharpened for their fast approaching academic life.

“When was the last time you wrote a paper?” I asked my middle schooler.

“I don’t remember.” kid.

“Write me something today.” I ordered.

“WHAT?!” kid.

“I am giving you a writing assignment. It is a good way to prepare your brain for school tomorrow. So, write me something, anything.” me.

And below is what was turned in just before dinner time today:

The Great Impala Poop Adventure

Impala

The day started out innocent enough. We went on our morning game drive at the Londolozi Game Reserve and saw many animals, like zebras, giraffes, elephants. In the afternoon drive things got even better, because our ranger found this really cool porcupine quill and I, Queen Bean, got to keep it. I wanted more to give to my friends, too. It was shortly after that that my troubles began.

Bush Picnic

We had just stopped for our food break when our ranger pointed to a pile of impala poop and said, “There is a childrens game where you put a pellet of impala poop in your mouth and spit it as far as you can past lines drawn on the ground. More point for farther spitting.”

“Nope.” My sister and I didn’t even give it a second thought

“If you do it, I’ll get you more porcupine quills, queenbean,” he told me.

Porcupine quill

BLACKMAIL! I ended up standing about ten feet from a line drawn in the sand with a handful of poop. I was to take a running start and stop at the line, then spit the poop as far as I could to make either 100, 200, 300, or 400 points.

I reluctantly put the poo in my mouth. euuuuuuugh. Took a running start, stopped at the line and SPITTED IT THE HELL OUT. It landed at my feet.

However, being the extremely determined queen I am, I continued to spit the poop until I had a hundred points. Oh sweet victory.

The next day I was presented with another porcupine quill. But GET THIS. My sister also received two porcupine quills, and SHE didn’t have to put poop in her mouth for it. I had a very bad day.

~Queen Beannn.

This is a true story from one of our many game drives in South Africa. This silly child who is the pickiest eater I know, had popped dried up impala poops into her mouth one after another to play this African bush game to earn points for porcupine quills. Too bad, all the pictures from the impala poop game came out terribly blurry because I was laughing so hard.

Obviously she is still alive.

Category: Family Travel Blogs, Humor, Kids Leave a Comment

Jul

Dream and Nightmare

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“Mom! I had this dream last night!”

I turned from my coffee machine, and saw my 12-year-old quickly approaching in her pajamas.

“What did you dream about?” me, re-directing my attention back to making my first cup of coffee.

“I dreamed that we were the family in that wife swap show!!” 12-year-old.

I chuckled. Wife Swap is one of our family’s few guilty pleasures. It is a reality TV show, where two polar opposite, dramatically different families swap the wife/mom for two weeks, and experience living with new rules and lifestyles.

“What happened in your dream?” me.

“Our new mom’s rule is no homework!! We can not do any homework for the week!!!!” 12-year-old all wide eyed.

“Ha, ha, ha, that’s quite a dream.” me.

“So, I went to school and told all my teachers about my new mom’s rule. But no body believed me!!” 12-year-old.

“Ha, ha, ha, ha!!!” I laughed even more, “so, is this a DREAM or a nightmare for you?”

“hum….I can’t decide….”12-year-old, thinking to herself rather thoughtfully, “But it is definitely a nightmare for you.”

“Why me?!” me, still chuckling.

“Because! It means your new kids never EVER do their homework, and you are going to make them do homework for a week!” 12-year-old.

Category: Humor, Kids, Parents Leave a Comment

Jun

The Time Has Come…

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Sigh…we tried really hard to avoid this stage of child raring, but it has come for us.

Volleyball game

“Only 3 kids showed up on Thee’s team.” I casually mentioned to hubby, as he was busy himself with filming our 9 year-old’s volleyball game that just got underway.

“What?!” hubby looked over his camera and peering over at our 12 year-old’s volleyball court.

“I can go fill in for them. I will go play.” hubby turned off his camera, and was about to get up from his chair.

“No, you WON’T” I said firmly and put my hand on his arm.

“Why not? They need at least four players to play the games. This volleyball league is so lay-back, they won’t care if I fill in for the kids.” hubby.

“True. But Thee will care. She will be embarrassed if you go play on her team.” I stated dryly.

“WHAT?! No. Are you serious?” hubby looking at me.

“Yes. You will embarrass her. She won’t want you there. Sit Down.” me.

Hubby reluctantly sat back down, while casting doubtful looks on me.

He might be blissfully ignorant in this matter. But I have become keenly aware of the changes in my 12-year-old in just the recent months.

Yes, the sweet child that we have so carefully raised has emerged into an adolescent. An challenging age that came with annoying behavior, further amplified by inherent deep flaws in character.

I have observed my 12-year-old morph in and out between her old self and this new creature possessed by an alien.

This new creature can be surprisingly mean to her little sister, unschooled in gratefulness, and particularly self-absorbed.

I have shouted at this creature on a few occasions and demanded my old sweet child back.

I have questioned my own parenting style, and wondered if I had done it all wrong.

I have given this a lot of thought.

Lucky for me, I have this unyielding confidence in my parenting approach.

We have always been responsive to our children’s emotional needs, set firm boundaries, and clear expectations.

This isn’t anyone’s fault. Our child needs to grow up, and is struggling to do so trying to give up her old familiar childish ways, reaching for new independence, while balancing the demands from school, extra activities, old and new friends, and us, the parents.

I came to the realization that I can’t go on and treat her as a young child anymore. I will have to learn to let her grow up, give her space, and respect her boundary.

I practiced my newly establishing parenting guideline on my husband when I forbid him from playing on my pre-teen’s volleyball game.

Later that day, we gathered around our kitchen island, as hubby was making the kids’ favorite virgin pina colada smoothie.

“How come you only had three players today.” hubby asked our 12-year-old.

“It is our coach’s wife birthday today, so he and his two boys didn’t come. Then a couple more kids just didn’t show up.” 12-year-old.

“I was going to come and play on your team for you.” hubby.

“WHAT?!” the new creature surfaced with arms crossed over her chest, face registered with horror.

“But mom stopped me. She said that I would embarrass you.” hubby, then added, “Would I embarrass you?”

“Of course! You would!” creature.

This was one of the few time where I was sad to be right.

“We have become embarrassing parents.” I declared to hubby in an official manner.

Hubby smiled while shaking his head and pouring out the drinks into cups.

“Remember when you were little, and we warned you about not letting us becoming embarrassing parents.” me, still a bit dreamy about the past.

“Yeah. I am not going to be embarrassed by you as long as you don’t do embarrassing things to me.” 12-year-old, all smiles and charm.

“You mean..like, standing next to you?” me.

“YES!! Just don’t stand next to me.” 12-year-old.

Category: Kids, Parents One Comment

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