It's All Good Until You Burn Dinner

Archive for October, 2011

There’s something unsettling to me about opening the front door on Halloween to a pack of trick or treaters that tower a good 9 inches above my head. And of course, these giants are all expecting me to gleefully heap a pound or two of Snickers Bars and Reeses Peanut Butter Cups into their pillowcases. Past experience has told me that I’d better do it too, lest they “trick” me. With the younger kids I can be kind of stingy and just toss couple of pieces in their bag…they’ll never know the difference. The teenagers, however, will measure the type, quantity, and quality of what is being inserted in their bag. If it’s not up to their snacking criteria, there may be repercussions.

I recall a few years back when my husband and I spent Halloween evening at the home of some friends, Russ and Sherri. Each time the doorbell rang our buddy, Russ, would dutifully go to the front entry and throw a few “fun size” pieces of candy into the little kids’ bag. But as the night wore on the kids got older – and bigger – and surprisingly, this clearly irked Russ even more than it bothered me.

The last doorbell ring of the night brought three very large teenage boys and Russ, thinking he was being clever, chucked a few handfuls of Science Diet dog food into each of kid’s bags.  Let’s just say it was a  rather chilly drive home that night after my husband Ron and I walked out of Russ and Sherri’s house and were greeted in the driveway by our truck — now sporting two freshly shattered windows (probably accomplished by vandals wielding pillow cases filled with kibble).

Noah is probably pretty close to the ages of the Dog Food boys. I’m really hoping that the novelty of trick-or-treating has worn off and that he’ll be satisfied with the sensational goody bag I’ve prepared for him consisting of candy, potato chips, and other snacks from the fat and grease section of the food pyramid.

I think it’s tough for some kids when they finally realize they’ve crossed the line from little kidhood to teenagedome. I guess that’s why over the years I try to make sure that even though my kids have gotten older, holidays such as these are still sort of fun for them. Different, but fun.

I suppose for other kids, getting beyond the little kid years is exciting. But as a parent it makes me kind of sad and part of me would like to see Noah dress up in a darling little zombie costume and go out trick-or-treating one last time (despite the fact he’s the size of the average adult Neanderthal). Perhaps parent sentimentality is the reason that the Dog Food Boys were out trick or treating that fateful night…

A few suggestions for teenage Halloween mirth and frivolity (that may keep them out of trouble, too):

• A bonfire, complete with music, scary stories, and s’mores. Don’t break the bank. Ask the kids to bring a snack or soft drinks to share. And hello? They’re teenagers so keep an eye on them.
• Take a few kids to a movie.  Watch the rating. If they plan to see an R-rated movie, they will need to be 17 to buy a movie ticket.  See if you can talk them into a Disney tale, instead (and good luck with that).
• Load the kids into the car and  bring them to a haunted house or hayride.  Don’t get stuck with all of the driving. Share that responsibility with another parent, if possible.
• Force your kid to hand out candy.

Got some ideas you’d like to share?

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I recently discovered that my teenage son, Noah, had started a new collection.  It wasn’t baseball cards or coins, nor was it bobble heads or even girls’ phone numbers (okay, he may also have that one…I just haven’t discovered it yet).  His shiny new collection consisted of a lofty stack of unfinished math assignments that had been tucked deep into the bowels of his backpack –nearly a three weeks worth, untouched except for a few scribbles and doodles he’d scratched randomly across some of the pages. I think he’d poked a pencil hole into a few of the assignments, too.

I don’t think I’d ever have made this discovery on my own. It was after his math teacher, Mr. Nagel, alerted me via email that I was prompted to don my biohazard suit and canvass my son’s backpack for the missing work.  Nevertheless, amongst candy wrappers and a wrinkled apple, I uncovered them and  immediately set up a conference with the teacher to discuss Noah’s less than stellar homework habits.

I guess what burned me is that my kid is smart – his standardized test scores are all high, he’s been placed in advanced classes, and he’s even won an honor or two. But the bottom line is that he hates homework and doesn’t understand how it applies to his life. And in a way, he’s kinda right. Where does algebra fit in for a kid whose life revolves around Call of Duty, Cheetos, LOL and OMG?

My husband I have tried all kinds of ploys to motivate him to do his homework– and hand it in before he loses it — including hiding his game controllers, confiscating his cell phone (unfortunately, I took it away from him, then I lost it somewhere around here), and snagging the power cord to his computer. We even tried bribing him with “sick” new clothes and cash prizes but to no avail.

But when we sat down with Mr. Nagel and Noah was presented with the idea that he might need to take 8^th grade over if he doesn’t pull it together, he was actually struck with a bit of terror. Especially after I said, “Hey Noah…just think about it. If you take 8^th grade over next year you could be the only kid in middle school old enough to drive.”

Mr. Nagel put Noah on a schedule and gave him a deadline to complete the assignments. We were approaching the weekend and it was pretty clear how Noah would be spending those days off. Instead of sleeping until noon, he’d be awakened at sunup to the sweet sounds me playing Reveille on my bugle (I don’t really have a bugle but if I did, I would have done it). And it also meant my weekend was down the crapper since I knew that I’d be standing behind him, cracking my whip to ensure that he was adding, subtracting, and multiplying.

But he persevered. With some prodding from us and a bit of tutoring (courtesy of his college-age sister, Stella) he did it. All the assignments were completed by Mr. Nagel’s deadline and Noah went from a pitiful “F” to a snazzy “B” in the class. His teacher later told me that in the 40 years he’s been teaching he’s had many meetings with parents and kids, just like the one he’d had with Noah and I, and rarely (if ever) did kids turn it around like he did. And he thanked me profusely, which kind of blew me out of the water. But honestly, I don’t think I could have been more proud of my son.

Isn’t it a parent’s job to help their kids put their best foot forward? To guide them in the right direction by figuring out what does and doesn’t work for their kid to ensure success at a level equal to their personal abilities? To be their parent, and not their buddy?

Life within a family certainly has its challenges and I honestly don’t recall signing up for a single one. And while some things work for me and my household (like when we had ice cream for dinner one night when I didn’t feel like cooking) it may not work for another.

Are there odd things that have worked for your kids that others may find weird? Are there times you’ve made sacrifices for your kids to help them succeed at a particular task?

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