Today was the last day of classes for students in Metro Nashville Public Schools. I, for one, am happy to have about 11 weeks of not having to make sure my daughter has clean SSA (standard school attire) to wear the next day and hopefully some lazier mornings instead of rushing to get ready to catch the bus.

But the summer looms ahead of me like a blank canvas and my children are of the opinion that I was put on this earth to entertain them endlessly! (They’re wrong, of course, but not easily convinced otherwise.) So what I need is a plan. And it needs to local and cheap, better yet, free!

So, this summer, I want to take in some of the sights and attractions that Music City and its surrounding cities and counties have to offer.  It’s a self-serving venture designed to give an answer to the inevitable question of, “What are we doing today?” Would you like to join us? Please e-mail me at malia dot carden at gmail dot com. I’ll put together an e-mail list and send out announcements of when and where bloggers with school aged children will be hanging out. It’ll help me, it’ll help you. And if you have any suggestions for cheap or free outings, include that in your e-mail and I’ll put it on the list!

Doug gets a beatdown by his wife Cathy when he asks for child #6.

When you go to his page, you will see his vasectomy fund. It might be best to donate for his health and survival.

Heh.

Rhino Legs has a whopping good time on her anniversary.

Where would you most like to spend your first wedding anniversary?

a.) In a bungalow on the beach in Mexico.
b.) At a chateau in Provence.
c.) In a cabin in the Great Smokies.
d.) At a B&B in New Orleans.
e.) In the hospital where your husband has landed for an emergency appendectomy.

If you picked E, you are CORRECT!

Our own Newscoma has a story about a woman who lives in Arkansas and is expecting her 18th child. Michelle Dugger, 41, is due on New Year’s Day. The children range in age from 20 to 6 months. I have no understanding of what her life is like. That’s got to be like $30 a week in milk alone…

Full story. And, the family has a web site.

Edit: They also have a TV show on the Discovery Health Channel, it seems. You can even play “Name that Duggar!”

Blabbermouse has a revelation about family, community service and gardening.

That’s when I realized that community service is all about recognizing and playing to your strengths. Larry was digging holes. Gus was doing the watering. Patrick was eating another donut (to keep his strength up! Otherwise, how can he continue to serve?)  Perhaps my place is not in the garden.

Read the rest.

I found this site, Free Range kids, and the post, through Brittney’s blog. The premise is pretty simple: give your nine-year-old kid a subway map, a MetroCard, a $20, some quarters for a phone call, drop him off at Bloomingdales and see if he makes it home. They’re giving them the same freedom kids of my generation (and maybe yours) had. My mom never had a clue where we were and I’m (somewhat) civilized despite that.

We become so bent out of shape over something as simple as letting your children out of sight on the playground that it starts seeming on par with letting them play on the railroad tracks at night. In the rain. In dark non-reflective coats. …

Meantime, my son wants his next trip to be from Queens. In my day, I doubt that would have struck anyone as particularly brave. Now it seems like hitchhiking through Yemen.

Some of the commenters have expresed the feeling that child protective services ought to be called. What’s your take on this - is it independence training or criminal negligence, parents?

Community Health Systems in Franklin, the parent company of a hospital in Illinois is being sued over an accidental baby swap.

The mixup occurred when the IDs were apparently taken off and put back on incorrectly when the babies were taken away for circumcision. Both mothers claimed to have felt unsure of their babies identities, but one went home with the baby she was given anyway. But within a few hours, the hospital recognized the mistake (it’s not clear if the recognition was a direct effect of one of the mothers’ complaints) and arranged for the babies to be reunited with their real parents.

Certainly, I understand that the hospital needs to be held accountable for the issue and that an investigation into the causes should occur and steps put into place to prevent it from happening again, but I don’t understand why the mothers think they should receive over $50,000 each as compensation for the error. A few months, a few years…yes, then I think they’d have a claim. But a few hours? I don’t think so. Heck, when I was born, my mom was the last person to see me. She and I were both asleep for quite a while–probably as long as it took for the hospital in this case to recognize the error.

Our litigious society…and some of us wonder why health care is so expensive…

OK, so I never understood the term “little pitchers” in the phrase, “Little pitchers have big ears” but I do understand it’s implication. Children are sponges and they absorb everything, especially everything they hear. I don’t have a sailor’s mouth but I do struggle with “coarse language” from time to time. My favorite is, “crap”. I say that way too much. And during my Battlestar Galactica marathons, “frak” seems to easily roll of my tongue. I really try to make sure I’m not saying these things around the kids. For me, it’s bad enough that my three old regularly says, “What the…?” Sure he’s left off the “hell” (for some it would be the “f*ck”) because the person he’s heard it from leaves off the “hell” when she says it. (Guilty, as charged.)

That being said, I commiserate and sympathize with this scene from Chez Béziat:

they’re playfully jabbering away at a comfortable noise level and all is well. But… it suddenly occurs to me that there’s a word I hear that should not be coming from their little mouths. I perk up to make sure I’m hearing what I think I’m hearing. “Dammit.” Back and forth, they are repeating it to each other in the sweetest of voices. Crap. Time to get back to parenting.

Me: Hey! Kids…

Kids: What?

Me: Do not ever say that word. Where did you hear it?

Joshua: Nowhere.

Me: Um. No sir. You heard it somewhere. Otherwise you wouldn’t know that word. Where?

Joshua: I heard it in my Ninja Turtles movie.

OK, I have no idea if this is possible. Did they utter that word in one of the Ninja Turtle movies? I just go back to a lecture about how they are not to say that word. Then his little sister pipes in.

Ari: I heard it on Dora.

Dora!?!? I just knew Nickelodeon was evil! It is, afterall, owned by MTV! (Kidding!) Go see how it really went down.
Guess maybe I need to wash my mouth out with soap. But I think I’ll use the kids’ Foaming Bubble Berry as opposed to regular old Dial!

A creative way to get your kids into the bath when they protest:

Most every evening we get a little push back around bath time…”Daddy, I’m not dirty…” “Daddy…we just took a shower last night…” “Daddy…I don’t want to…”

And the dance goes on for a moment. With the requisite fussing and the disdain and the disinterest in cleanliness. And a rising level of frustration among all parties.

But one night The Beautiful Bride had the most amazing thought…

After we give the call to tub, and begin to hear the girls give their typical chorus of “the top reasons I do not need to clean myself tonight” our new quick and easy reply is…

We currently don’t have bathtime resistance at our house but I’ll tuck this one away for future reference. I think it may come in handy one day.

Here in Middle Tennessee, at the beginning of every school year, there are dozens of forms to fill out that are kept on file at the schools. In particular there is a form which indicates how a student should be transported home in the event that school closes early due to inclement weather. Normally my child rides the bus to and from school, but I indicated on the form that in the event of an early closing, I would come to school and get her. This decision was mainly fueled by the “big snow” Nashville got back in 2003. I remember hearing stories on the news and from friends and acquaintances of children being stuck on buses for hours and hours and not arriving home until much later in the day. I figured that if we got stuck, at least we’d be stuck together and I wouldn’t be worrying about her safety (at least her safety in the hands of another person who is also overseeing the safety of 30 or more other children.) But here in Middle Tennessee, that’s about as “horrific” as it gets when planning for the worst.

But if you head East on I-40 a few hours from here you’ll get to the Oak Ridge community where there is a nuclear power plant. I wonder if the parents in Oak Ridge have the same experience at the beginning of each school year as the parents in Brattleboro, VT?

My daughter will be entering high school next year, and I am filling out the usual forms. “Evacuation Permission” falls under the usual form category here in Brattleboro, Vt., because we live eight miles from a nuclear power plant.

On the form, I need to indicate if: 1) She may leave in the car she drives to school; 2) She may leave as a passenger with another student; or 3) She must be transferred by bus to the “reception center.”

My daughter and her friends are not driving yet. Ice runs through my veins when I think of her jammed inside a yellow bus riding 20 miles north on the interstate to a “reception center” with twice as many parents in panicked pursuit.

I call my friend Ruby, who teaches in the high school. “Can I write in your name and tell my daughter to go directly to you?” but before she even replies, the pieces of the picture start falling into place. Ruby and her colleagues will be in charge of 1,500 teenagers. “You have to get all those kids in the buses and ride to the reception center, don’t you?”

This is not the first time I’ve played out a version of this disaster in my mind. Not so recently, I went to a meeting to recruit volunteers for the American Red Cross. When the recruiter laid out responsibilities such as setting up cots at the reception center after an “accident,” I began to squirm.

Read the rest of the article here.

It reminds me of the scene in Deep Impact where everyone is trying to “get out of Dodge” and the Interstate is crammed with cars and eventually comes to a standstill. Still, I think the author makes a very good point. We’ll never really be completely prepared for the worst and we can only try to keep our humor about us when preparing for it.

h/t: The Squirrel Queen

Good Friday has always been a sad day to me.  At church, we always read the passion and I hate reading during Mass the crowd line, “Crucify him!”  With that sense of melancholy already settling into my psyche, I just saw Nathan’s post about losing his nephew almost a year ago to a drug overdose.  He also remembers his grandmothers in the post,

The last time I talked to one Grandma was when I was in a hurry to get off the phone. I feel badly because if I’d known it was the last time, I would have said so much more. Then another Grandma, I sat with her at a restaurant, keeping my eye on the watch. Dad offered to let me ride back with them to the nursing home, but I declined. Would it really have bothered me so much to just haul my butt in the car and ride back with them? I can still see her tracking slowly to the car with her cane that night. If I’d only known it would be the last time I saw her.

I can’t remember my last conversation with our dear friend Lindell because we had plenty of discussions in the 20 years I knew him.  My husband told me this week that he still thinks of his friend who he loved like a brother every single day.  It was hard those first few weeks, and when we learned several months later that he died of natural causes we were comforted.  I think I missed him the most when I went with my hubs and children to the U2:3D concert at Opry Mills.  The movie was fantastic and I knew Lindell would’ve loved it - that made me sad. 

I will look forward to Easter so I can release this sadness and rejoice in meeting my 2-month old great-nephew for the first time.  New life!

I know this isn’t about real estate or neighborhoods, but Nathan’s post really did touch me and I wanted to share it.

A recent post from Sarcastro regarding an incident at his son’s school brought out the differences between how a father parents and how mother parents.

Apparently, an eighth grade girl had a “hit list” of people she didn’t like. Pandemonium then proceeded to erupt.

…

Never mind the media adding to the pants shitting hysteria of neurotic parents. But go ahead and read the lede from Channel 4.

A local school system is dealing with hit lists, and they believe they are coming from an eighth-grade student.

Oh. Now it is multiple lists? Not multiple lists! Oh, the humanity!

Mrs. Sarcastro went into full panic mode over this stupid damn thing. She started railing about whatever it is that Security Moms get worked up about.

I foolishly tried to extinguish this blaze of outrage.

“What’s the big deal? This kid made a list. So what?”

“What if one of our kids was on that list?”

“So what? It’s just a list.”

“It was a KILL list!”

“So kids are getting expelled from school for making lists?”

“She brought a gun to school!”

“No. She might or might not have brought a gun to school, and if she did, then she should be expelled and charged. If she really brought a gun to school, don’t you think that would be the story instead of this stupid list bullshit?”

“If 13 was on that list, I would have him in private school so fast…”

“Like that is a solution. Nothing bad happens in private schools. Just ask those Amish girls.”

Even in the comments, a line was drawn distinguishing the maternal instinct from the paternal one.

Sending our children out into the world is indeed very gut wrenching and scary. Of course we don’t want anything to happen to them. But how does a parent reconcile this without keeping their kids under lock and key 24/7? And if we did, we’d look like abusers or crazies or both. What’s the answer? Private school? Homeschooling? Police on campus? Zero tolerance? Metal detectors?

But this was just a list. And as Sarcastro says:

It just seems un-American somehow to cultivate the idea in children that putting their thoughts onto paper is a crime. We aren’t making our kids safer, we’re just making them better sheep.

Now that is a very scary thought.

When I was twelve, I had to change schools in the town I lived in. I had been at one school for six years and then because of financial circumstances, I went to a different school when I entered 7th grade. When I was thirteen, my family moved from Abilene, Texas to Centreville, Virginia. So, I went to eighth grade at another school. Then between eighth and ninth grade, we bought a house in the next county, so I started High School at a completely different school, again. Three school changes in three years. And it was tough. Really, tough. That’s such a hard age already with puberty hitting. Then add the turmoil of moving, leaving friends, trying to make new friends, starting “Junior High”, starting High School and it’s a wonder I don’t have enormous therapy bills! Those were not easy years for me which is why I was surprised and encouraged to read how the daughter of the blogger at Busy Mom’s Journal made the decision to change schools all on her own!

My daughter is entering high school next year. She’s been at the same school since kindergarten…9 years. It’s a wonderful school, and we have had an incredible experience here. … She decided last fall that she wanted to take a look at another well respected school here in town, an all-girl’s school. She’s very intrigued by the single sex aspect of the school. She toured and visited classes last fall with a couple of the high school students and fell in love with it. So we applied…

And she got in! But it was harder to make the decision that they expected it to be. But what she says here about the experience would make any parent proud.

Will things change? Sure they will. They will change whether she stays at the old school or not. I am so proud of her for making this decision. For taking a leap of faith to something she’s not familiar with. For taking a chance. If no one ever took chances, where would they be? There might be regrets. But for sure, there will be new experiences, new opportunities, and if she doesn’t try them she’ll never know what’s out there.

I certainly wasn’t mature enough at fourteen to look at my circumstances as new experiences and new opportunities. I just wanted my old friends and my old school back. This young lady is already on her way to being a well-adjusted adult who can make good, sound decisions.

Daddy, I love you more than a million bushes in the dirt.

More at Chez Bez. 

Cap & Gown
Pomp & Circumstance
Valedictorians
College Acceptance Letters
Loan Application Forms

Yes, it’s that time of year again. Our high school seniors are finishing up their course work, gearing up for graduation and itching to get their hands on some newfound college freedom. But before your budding young entrepreneur or up & coming lawyer or undiscovered Einstein leaves your nest, how about some pictures to commemorate the event?

Steven Bush is a local photographer (with a blog, natch) who has a different twist on traditional portraiture. Don’t settle for the boring cap & gown photo that the your Senior had taken for the yearbook! Capture their personal flair with a Steven Bush original. If anything, it’ll make Grandma cry when she gets her framed 8×10 copy! Go here to see his original work.

I read (via Volunteer Voters) that Rep. Stacey Campfield had posted some of the “evidence” supporting his legislation to keep Kindergarten (and up through 2nd grade) teachers from instructing children about alternative human couplings (or any human couplings, actually).

It appears the message that various non-heterosexual phenomena are normal is already being covered (or encouraged) for K-2nd teachers . . . so it looks like any bogeyman-mongering accusations are inaccurate.

But I noticed that the PFLAG materials are couched in terms of “making our schools safe” (my words, not theirs). Sorry, but I don’t think it is necessary for public employees to undermine millennia of Western social values to “make schools safe.” Refusing to coddle aggressive or assaultive or intimidating behavior is what will make schools safe. That’s some morality we can all agree on . . . .

Unless the public schools (esp. K-2) are going to allow the teaching of the Judeo-Christian view of sexuality or morality, they shouldn’t be teaching any.

Rats, I just noticed that Comcast–my cable provider, is funding this PFLAG program.

First we saw the trilogy of videos by Jimmy Kimmel, Sarah Silverman, and Seth Rogen (salty, salty!).  Now we bring you more bittersweet news … again Jimmy Kimmel is involved.

John probably won’t get to cash in on his VIP seats for the JK Live show.  That’s the bitter part.  The sweetness is because his family is moving back East from Californ-I-ay so he’ll get to see his brother, sis-in-law, and niece and nephew more often. I’d make the trade, too, John.  Glad to hear your family will be closer!

Now go outside and enjoy the day.

~Emilie Buchwald~

Something I take entirely for granted is my ability to read. Reading and books have been apart of my life for as long as I can remember. For me, passing on the love of reading to my children has been very natural. There was no, “will I read to my children?” or “if I read to my children”. I just read to them everyday. Sometimes it’s because they’ve requested that I read to them. And there’s always reading time before bed time. I love hearing of other parents who taking reading to their kids seriously, as well.

From Lit(erature) On Fire:

We read to our son every night before bed.

Most nights we finish reading with the book I Love You Goodnight.

Often, I feel compelled to ask my son this one nerdy question before we read I Love You Goodnight. Tonight as we finished reading one of his favorite science books (he wants to be a mad scientist when he grows up), I opened I Love You Goodnight and asked him, “Do you know what this is?” He looked up at me with half a smile and half annoyance and said “Do I have to?”. I shook my head vigorously and he said with little enthusiasm, “A true story…” Yep.

I’m compelled to remind our Music City Bloggers readers about the Governor’s Books From Birth Foundation that supplies children in Tennessee a free, hardcover book each month. Any child age five and under, in Tennessee, is eligible for this program. Go here to find your county’s Imagination Library and the contact for information for signing up for the program.

Also, Nashville Public Library’s website offers a wonderful “kids section“. Children can even get their own library cards. Contact your local branch for details.

He that loves a book will never want a faithful friend,
a wholesome counselor, a cheerful companion, an effectual comforter.
By study, by reading, by thinking, one may innocently
divert and pleasantly entertain himself,
as in all weathers, as in all fortunes.
~ Barrow ~

When I look back, I am so impressed again
with the life-giving power of literature.
If I were a young person today, trying to gain a sense of
myself in the world, I would do that again by reading,
just as I did when I was young.
~ Maya Angelou ~

If you can read this, thank a teacher.
~ Anonymous Teacher ~

Big Orange Michael takes a break from blogging about UT sports today to wish his niece a very happy birthday and observe how quickly kids grow-up:

In the past year, we’ve gone from my reading book to her at bedtime, to her wanting to read to me–and her being able to do it. I had a lot of fun this year, travelling down memory lane as I picked out a couple of “big girl” books as party of her birthday present. …I bought her two of my favorites that I read when I was her age–the first two Ramona books.

Ah, the Ramona books! I loved those. I should introduce those to my own daughter soon.

Unless of course, you want this to happen…

Now maybe your kids will listen to you when you warn them about swallowing chewing gum!

(h/t: my friend Lisa in VA)

Aunt B. has been blogging from her parent’s house lately (she’s home now). She was up there because her father recently had surgery and she helped with the whole nurse him back to health routine. And in true Aunt B. style she has recorded some really funny moments and conversations that occurred during her visit.

“Do you want me to throw cheese at you?”

“No.”

“You’re no fun. My real mom would let me throw cheese at her.”

“And she did… Until you were about four.”

Regarding Cheerleading as a Double Jeopardy category:

“What kind of category is that?! A smart young lady like her shouldn’t have to waste her time studying up on who was a cheerleader when. What a stupid idea. But you know, someone put that category in there just for her because they thought it was a girlie thing she would know and the two boys wouldn’t. But you notice she didn’t respond to any of the answers. I say good for her. It’s demeaning to women to assume that they can’t like the Three Stooges and that they give two shits about cheerleading. I mean, my god, they’re not even talking about the sporty kind of cheerleading. I’m about ready to turn the channel.”

Of course, he didn’t. It is Jeopardy, after all. But to even hear him threaten to turn the channel tickled me.

He gets his stitches out today. He’s very excited, and desperate for it to be done. He tried to talk me into doing it earlier and I promised that I would if the nurse isn’t here by 3.

If it comes to that, I hope he lets me liveblog it.

Nobody in my family’s going to church! Mom is practically giggling like a school girl and is going to change into something more comfortable “darn it”.

Be careful what you wish for:

And I wish my dad was closer, in case he needs me.

Thanks B., for sharing your family’s life with us while you were “gone”. I do hope your dad continues to improve!

Knucklehead’s daughter had a birthday the other day. And he knew exactly how to play it:

I got nothing for you. So here’s what I’m going to do. On the way to pick you up at school today, I’m going to stop in a WalMart or Target or some other crappy, soulless corporate big box store and grab a bunch of crap made in China and throw some gift bags and tissue paper in the cart and pay for it and put it all together in the parking lot. The whole process is going to take less than 10 minutes.

It’s not that I’m not thoughtful, it’s that you’re seven. It doesn’t matter what I get, it’s going to end up at the bottom of your closet in two days.

Oh, the truth that is so painful! High School Musical digital camera that my daughter was so very excited about at Christmas? Hasn’t been used in weeks. Train set that my son got for his birthday? Track pieces get scattered around the house and used as makeshift swords not as the foundation for a intricate railway system. (Or course, he’s three, what did I really expect there?)

And really, do you remember what you got when turned seven? I mean unless it was a pony or a backyard swimming pool chances are you don’t remember the specifics of that birthday. But what we all remember is whether or not we were loved. Sometimes showing love happens in the form of plastic toys from China, but Lil Knuck will one day be able to look back and know that her Dad loved and cared for her and taught her the really important stuff life like:

golf course etiquette and a love of football and an appreciation for sarcasm and the proper timing of a punch line

See, it’s all good!

It’s been a year since Liz’s father left. A year of coming to terms with what that means, what it looks like in her family’s structure, what really happened and what she’s learned from it. I’m amazed and encouraged by the maturity that she shows a year later as she finally writes about what happened that night; the answers she’s able to give herself to the questions she asked a year ago. We all know, we’ve all heard the reports on studies done about parents splitting up and what it does to the kids but we don’t always hear from the kids themselves. I’m so glad that Liz shared her story with us.

I stayed on that couch, if I didn’t move, I didn’t have to face it. I could pretend. That was the only way to cope, those first few weeks, all you could do was pretend. Pretend dad was on a trip like they sent him on, pretend nothing is wrong, maybe you’ll trick your brain into believing that crock. The first month or two it was not uncommon to burst into tears. Dad moved his stuff out one day in March. I couldn’t bear to be home to see that, so the first time I ever drove alone was that day, up the street to sit in the vacant church parking lot until he left the house. I didn’t see him for at least another month. My brother moved in, my sister dropped out of nursing school, my mom became depressed, I don’t know what I did. I probably sat on that couch some more.

Nobody tells you how to react to your father leaving a seemingly stable, happy, marriage of twenty-five years.

All of it is very well written. It’s poignant but not sappy, truthful but not hurtful. The conclusions she comes to at the end of the post show insight and wisdom well beyond her years.

So I just got a very nice and unexpected email from a seemingly very nice man who in passing sent me the link to his sister-in-law’s website, That Mama (sure can cook).  She’s Mississippi based  - not quite local - but her site is so refreshingly wonderful that i had to pass it on.  The first line of her ‘About‘ page begins:

“Good cooking and good food have always brought our family and friends together.”

And from there on her ‘Listen to Mama’ page she states:

The need to cook for our families is not something that will go away if we ignore it or procrastinate through our days thinking a meal will magically fall together. It is a need…not a luxury for those who have time or who are more deftly skilled with a whisk and a wooden spoon. Whether you think you can cook or not, your family eats three times a day…somehow…someway. It is something we need to prepare for everyday. This was a hard fact for me to accept as the children began to join us at the table.  I could not wait until the last minute anymore and eat dinner at 7:30 or 8:00. I have never been one to prepare two meals…a kids meal then the “adult meal”. It is a waste of time and money while teaching our children the wrong things. One meal in our house…some days it may be your favorite and some days it will be your sister’s favorite. As my husband often says, “It is what Mama has prepared and let’s be thankful and respect her for her time and effort by not complaining.”

But by far the purely nicest thing I’ve seen in awhile is her 17 minute home movie where she cooks dinner while weaving her family’s daily life throughout the process.  And sure… she’s beautiful, has 3 great home schooled kids, a successful architect husband and an adorable puppy - all surrounded by the perfect garden AND to top it off, it’s set to Nickel Creek music… it could be enough to make you think… c’mon now… or not.  All I can say is that I had a smile on my face the whole time I was surfing through her site.

Bottom line the dinner is superb and it’s ALL GOOD.

Amy at Milk Breath and Margaritas (love that blog title!) gives a big shout out to the Room Mothers:

I want to say thank you to all the Room Mothers.

Thank you for organizing the class parties and offering to drive for the field trips. Thank you for all that you do to help the teacher throughout the year.

Amy works full-time and can’t be a school room mother but she willingly helps out in ways that she can. And that’s the way it should be. The stay-at-home mothers shouldn’t be expected to do all the work and the work-away-from-home mothers should be able to contribute as they can without anyone passing judgment. I’m a stay-at-home mother but I’m not the room mother for my daughter’s class. I’m her Brownie troop leader and I have a three-year old son at home with me. I know my limits and how many commitments can be too much for me. There are so many times that I wish that I could be in her school room more often but since I can’t be, I do what I can.