I feel like such a lousy, neglectful blogger this week. It's just been really busy, at work and at home, and I should just change the name of my blog to the upbeat sounding "There Are Never Enough Hours in the Day." Yeah, that will bring in the readers, whoo hoo!
I finally posted a little review of You Don't Mess with the Zohan and Semi Pro on my Scribblerchick site - http://deescribbler.typepad.com/flick_pages/. It occurred to me I should fashion an elegant paragraph about how during these horrible economic times, we all need to relax and get silly more often, but I don't have time to compose it. Isn't it obvious, though? I don't watch movies to be reminded of the mortgage crisis or the $4 a gallon I pay for gas. Nope, I want to laugh. The 1930's had The Marx Brothers, and we have Adam Sandler and Will Ferrell.
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I was reading an interesting article in Newsweek while I ate my lunch, called Helicopter Moms v. Free Range Kids. http://www.newsweek.com/id/133103/page/1 - sorry, I don't know why this page won't look right, but maybe you can cut and past and see that article. A female writer in New York let her 9 year old son ride public transportation alone, and she was horribly criticized for it. I can see both sides of the debate.
My kids walk to the pool almost every day by themselves. The pool is about 1/4 of a mile from the house. It's a members only place, and the folks who hang out there are pretty decent middle class types. Is it totally safe? Probably not. However, it gets the kids outside and they get some exercise, and it gives my mother a break so she can take a nap. I don't see it as too risky. If we lived in a more urban area, I might not let them go, but this is a pretty decent area, with lots of middle class houses and businesses close by. It's such a struggle not to be overprotective, though.
I am pondering getting Alesia some sort of little cell phone, one with no internet or camera, or texting - just a phone, no frills, with only a limited number of prepaid minutes a month. I understand a lot of parents get Trac Fones. I looked at their website and it looks like a pretty decent deal. I won't get it until she goes back to school, though. I will just feel better if we have a way to get in contact with her.
Alesia asked me last night if she could go "hang out" with her friend Farida, a little girl she knows from school who is Russian. I asked her to find out a lot more information for me, and I would consider letting her visit the child. I reminded her I have rules about meeting the parents, seeing where they live, finding out as much as possible about their values. I suspect these folks, not being American, will think I am a complete nutcase. Alesia may or may not ever go over there. She looked amused by my reiteration of how cautious I am, and how reluctant I am to just let her "hang out" anywhere.
Of course, my friends with teenagers who aren't adopted like to tell me I am overprotective and unreasonable. They don't understand how incredibly naive Alesia is, and how that scares me. An American child is usually raised with parents who caution them, who talk about safety, who make it clear how to spot people who are unsavory. Alesia didn't have that. Her brithmom left her alone for hours when she was less than 6 years old. The orphanage staff let her wander all over the countryside unsupervised, not caring where she was or when she returned. She told us recently that one reason she liked to take long walks in the country was to steal food out of people's gardens, because she was always so hungry.
My son is always cautious about being in public. He grew up on the streets, living hand to mouth, and remembers how it feels to be brutally beaten by a gang. Maybe that's why he doesn't much like to be alone.
I want my children to understand that I put rules around them like fences, to keep away predators. I enclose them with rules and chores and long talks about values because they desperately need structure. They need to know I am a fanatic about safety. They need to understand and appreciate the difference between me - a caring, committed mother - and their birthmoms. I know intuitively they do understand it, but I think it's good to underscore that sometimes. After all, their birthmoms let them be taken away forever. I've told my kids I will fight to the death before I will let anyone take them from me. Nobody will ever love them as much as I do, and until they can defend themselves, I am Warrior Mama.
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My friend Hallie has a beautiful post on Wonderful World of Wieners, about the donation of a heart to her father a few years ago. I have tried to explain organ donation to Alesia and she has had a hard time with the idea. If I get killed in an accident, though, I want everything donated [well, except my thighs, yikes]. Hallie explains so beautifully the experience of being a family member of a recipient. I urge you to read it.
