That creepy picture of JesusJayZombie is freaking me out so I needed a post to bump it down.
I should be reading some papers for school but I’m not. They are BOR-ING. Why is academic writing so boring? I can read some long-haired stuff but, man, this crap puts me to sleep. 
I’m in the process of starting yet another blog. But, it’s not very bloggy just yet. I am constructing a web site for kids (middle readers) about monsters and spooky stuff. Read the rest of this entry »
The skeptical movement is blossoming. This is good and bad. It used to be sort of easy to keep up with things. Now, there are so many new blogs and interesting forums to follow, one can’t possibly participate in all of them. I can just about keep up on all the podcasts!
Read the rest of this entry »
Many of today’s kids, at least my kid, seems to think it’s perfectly OK to have fun believing in ghosts, unicorns, witchcraft, demons, UFOs, vampires, and the like. They appear to understand that much of this is by choice and strictly for entertainment purposes only. It seems fair to think that childish things will eventually be discarded.
But, I’m concerned.
During a dinnertime discussion I pressed the issue about the lucky numbers that appeared in our Chinese fortune cookies. The concept of lucky numbers is silly. I got mad that my husband wanted to bait my rising irritation by saying how the restaurant lady must have been guided by destiny to pick our individual fortunes and lucky numbers in a mass produced, poorly tasting “cookie”. My older daughter (11) thinks of me as the party pooper on these topics by suggesting alternate ways of simply thinking about the issue that end up being the less mysterious interpretations.
Today, she said my skepticism “gets old”. Why don’t I just be open-minded and let people believe in unicorns if they want to? What’s the harm?
Well, she did need some schoolin’ on this point. Not being preachy but I did give her some less warm and fuzzy examples — the recent cases of children who died because their parents prayed and trusted their God to heal the sickness instead of doctors; how people still kill so-called witches in third-world countries; that people lose their life savings by giving it to psychics and astrologers instead of sound financial advisors; and of families torn apart by false memories of abuse implanted by therapists. Finally, I told her how mainstream parents are falling prey to the nonsense of the antivax promoters whose tactics allow for the resurgence of long-supressed childhood illnesses.
Would she rather believe in the truth or an interesting story? What about when it really counts?
This was the first that she made the connection between critical thinking and life-changing or life-ending situations. At least, I hope she did.
I liked this article today from NY Times.
This is our parenting style. We don’t sign the kids up for endless activities, we don’t buy them tons of toys or spoil them with expensive things. They use their own money for the ice cream man and things they want in the story. They entertain themselves when they are bored. I let them play outside in the neighborhood. My older daughter sometimes walks to school (It’s several blocks – how dare I risk it!) I don’t believe she’ll be abducted since that is ridiculously rare. I don’t hover, I don’t micromanage – I expect them to pack their own school bags and do their homework. We certainly encourage and help and we have set limits and rules. They must learn to live in reasonable guidelines, just like those that exist in the real world. I give them independence and freedom to explore different things (I expect one day I’ll repeat to myself , “Hair grows back, piercings close up.”). They ask to join clubs, I might make suggestions but don’t push. They WILL NOT get cars when they are 16 unless they save their birthday money.
We weren’t overprotected when when we were kids. We knew the value of money and managed a lot on our own. Now, we are both self-sufficient, well-adjusted adults that didn’t make dumb mistakes buying homes and status symbols we couldn’t afford. That’s the point. You don’t get coddled in life. You can be supported, encouraged and loved but to coddle – well, that’s just going to hurt you in the long term. Uncoddling (with benefits) is the new parenting.
Recommended reading: Raising Freethinkers by Dale McGowan.
Jamie Lynn Spears’ pregnancy provides parents of girls between 7 and 14 with a golden opportunity to talk about birth control. Just do it. It’s easy. It’s absolutely necessary.
Abstinence isn’t going to cut it. That’s actually been proven. Let’s face it – kids that are too young still have sex. If you are a wise and caring parent, you encourage them to be smart about relationships but you also teach them about birth control so they don’t derail their lives with a child before its time. The young girls in poor neighborhoods don’t have the resources that the Spears’ have to care for a child (though I would question celebrity parental skills). A 16 year girl living in relative poverty may not be able to graduate and establish her independence with a child in tow. It’s very sad. She may become a burden to society instead of an asset.
Just to add, I’ll highlight the complete disregard that the fundamentalist religionists have for the life of these young women. Nothing is so telling about the health and prosperity of a society than the status of its women. If it were left up to the fundamentalists (of all religions) women would be relegated solely to the role of broodmares, subservient to their husbands. Their religious texts support this view. I deeply resent that. Ask your Presidential candidates ‘what is the role of a woman in society?’. Their answers may be very telling.
My daughter, (age 9) likes Green Day and Dave Grohl (Foo Fighters). She doesn’t share my affection for My Chemical Romance but I figure it might grow on her. Note that all three bands swear on occasion and have the Parental Warnings on their products.
For Xmas two years ago (when she was 7), she wanted the “Bullet in a Bible” DVD – the Green Day concert film. I thoroughly enjoyed it myself. She spent a weekend up at my folks around that time. I told her she’d better not bring the DVD. Grandma and Grandpa wouldn’t necessarily approve of the F-bomb dropped a few times. (Not to mention they would not appreciate the tunes.)
When I told a colleague (who is my age and has a taste for Alice in Chains and porn videos) that she thought Green Day was dreamy, he looked at me cross-eyed. “They swear a lot in their songs. You let her listen to that?” Friggin’ hypocrite…
Of all things, if the kids hears some slang words from Dave, Billie Joe or Gerard, I’m pretty sure they won’t be warped for life. In fact, she may not know what “fuck” literally means but she knows it’s not a word to be used in conversation. It’s a word that has a strong emotional tag that is useful for artists and writers. It isn’t derogatory towards a person; it’s become rather neutral.
[Aside: Remember when they weren’t allowed to say “bitch” or “ass” on TV? I remember when that most excellent waste of TV time “Dynasty” would throw “Bitch” around and everyone would gasp. How times have changed. I was, like, 10 and wasn’t allowed to watch it much.]
I would rather she understand that there are different styles of language to be used in different situations when appropriate. I don’t accept that MTV bleeps out the words “murder” or “shit” or any reference to drugs. That’s sort of dumb since they exhibit little restraint in showing videos with disgusting hot-pantsed women shaking their asses for pimps. I guess they think glorifying women as sex objects and showcasing the hedonistic excesses in life is fine.
I would rather she learn lessons about art and freedom of speech. If that means she hears the F-bomb used as an expletive (not a verb), I’m OK with that. So, I let her know that people DO judge you on what you wear, how you act and what you say. It’s up to you to chose how to express yourself but there may be consequences.
There are days when I wish I could cuss away at the world but it’s not my purpose to express anger to the masses and rile them up. When I do use the F-bomb on occasion, those around me know I’m really pissed off. Thus, it retains its power.
How’s your holiday season going so far? Gee, it’s only the first week in December. Since I noticed decorations on display at the craft store when I was looking for Halloween paraphernalia, it feels like December 25 should be, like, next week. But it’s the next FOUR weeks, actually.
I’m not a big fan of Christmas. First, my family does not celebrate any religious aspect of this time of year (or any time of year). So, I don’t warm up to people preaching “Jesus is the Reason for the Season”. Nice rhyme but the tilt of the earth’s axis is the reason for the seasons. Too bad that doesn’t sound as catchy. Just because you don’t like it doesn’t make it any less true.
Holiday time is frequently a trigger for bad memories: people miss lost loved ones, they remember disappointments or tragedies, or they sadly realize that they can’t share any joy with someone because they are alone. It’s highly insensitive to push a happy, joyful message to these folks and call them Scrooges or Grinches when they fail to join the festivities.
Xmas time for me is full of anxiety. With divorced parents on my side and various relatives spread out in the state, I worry about getting in the required visitations. I have to cart along two small children and a dog. They don’t. I have to work pretty hard to figure out appropriate gifts for those who have what they need. They don’t. When in doubt, they just hand out cash. They can send out cards and greetings. I don’t have time.
This year, I’m quite the “Grinch”. I don’t have any enthusiasm for putting up the tree. I don’t feel motivated to light up the house or festoon the interior. I might make cookies this year because the kids like that and they make thoughtful gifts. But, generally, I do not embrace the consumer excess and overexertion that goes with the holiday preparation.
I heard that among the common toy requests in children’s letters to Santa are the wishes for parents to come home from Iraq or Afghanistan, for everyone to get along (at home and in the world), and for snow to fall. How simple are those wishes. I wish the same. I want all those soldiers home from a senseless war. I want us to stop fighting abroad and at home about faith and what it means to be a good person. I wouldn’t mind a dusting of snow to make everything clean, quiet and a pretty background for the twinkling lights.
Sigh…
There seems to be nothing exciting going on these days in the paranormal world. Oh, sure there is the current UFO flap that peaked with the O’Hare report and the Black Triangles. But, honestly, I’ve not been keeping up because UFOs don’t grab me (at least one hasn’t grabbed me yet).
All the air has gone out of Cryptomundo for me lately. Are things really so blah or is it just me?
It is Spring (so says the calendar) which may account for the lack of fun stories meant to break up the winter blues. Since a real Spring has yet to appear in the northeastern U.S., many of us are incubating viruses and passing them on. (ah-CHOO!) My daffodils, with their heads hung low, look miserable. Much like how I feel.
As frequently happens to me, I go through phases of interest. Sometimes I go on a writing jag, sometimes I devour books. I’m not in the mood to do either. I’ve been listening to music, been feeling I should pick up the gee-tar again, checking out new tunes in my favorite pop-punk category and adding to my LaLa want list.
Thanks to my current infatuation with My Chemical Romance: The Black Parade, I’ve painted my nails black, texturized my hair and threw out all my wool blazers and turtlenecks. My 3-year old is bopping along in the back seat to Dead! and Famous Last Words
Why do people sing about death? Dress like vampires? Like to watch horror movies? I can’t imagine it so I’d like to know. I’ve always been fascinated by gothic and vampire themes. But, take note: just because it’s really fun to get into these things does not mean that there is any validity to them. Plus, they’re probably unhealthy for your psyche too.
I end this rambling thought-spillage with a parental moment: What will my children use on me to rebel? They can’t get me with the occult/paranormal, heavy metal, punk, goth (“Dye your hair purple? Cool, let’s go!”) Been there, done that. So, perhaps I’ll rue the day my girls become born again Christians who like country music. Then, I’ll know I failed as a parent.
