The Mighty B!

The kids and I have found a new favorite show ---Check it out!

The complex, completely relatable and slightly off-kilter dreams and ambitions of a 9- ("and three-quarters") year-old girl, Bessie Higgenbottom.

Bessie is a bit awkward - especially in the social arena. She's still getting her teeth in, so there's a slight lisp and a watery spray to her high-octive speaking style. She is fearless in a daunting world but also struggles to be good at basic things, like how to fit in, how to get along and be understood.

Bessie channels 135 percent of her energy into her Honeybee troop, where her pursuit of Honeybee badges is legendary. Getting Honeybee badges seems to give her a purpose, and it lets her get closer to her troop mates. She's a bit obsessed with collecting all the badges, so pigtailed Bessie zeros in on each badge challenge with real zeal. Because earning a badge is a little bit like fitting in.

And there's a higher purpose as well. Bessie believes that if she's good enough to collect every possible badge (numbering at least 5,000), she will become a superhero - the Mighty B!
If you're venturing a guess that "The Mighty B!" is partly about growing up and fitting in and the anxiety that can come with that, you're right. It's also about being an individual, about believing in yourself despite adversity, having a zest for life and setting goals. Those are all good traits in kids who are 9 "and three-quarters."

But don’t even think you are getting an episode of Arthur when you tune in to Mighty B. There are lessons, sure, but they are buried in pure silly, mindless entertainment. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, and this show is FUNNY!

Bessie lives in San Francisco, which I easily figured out the first time I saw the show- cable cars, recognizable architecture and a multi-ethnic cast. Her mom rides a motorcycle, sports a tattoo, and I haven’t heard any mention of a father figure yet

Because even though "The Mighty B!" is firmly out of that wonderful no-commercials block of educational children's television, it still has an important message to convey: that transitioning into the "tweener" stage of life can be daunting and formidable, particularly for a girl, but that they are not alone. Did I mention that this show is FUNNY! ?

"The Mighty B!" proves that Bessie has no shortage of self-esteem and that given a shelter dog named Happy and a ragtag group of friends in similar stages of awkward growth, she's going to do just fine.

The Mighty B! Cartoon Network---Check Listings...

Grandma

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Jane Maude Pittaway Eggleton

June 14,1900-September 25, 2008

Soccer Fantasy

Today was one of those amazing fall days full of sunshine and crispness. It was the perfect day to go to my six year old's soccer game and I was able to leave everyone else at home and do just that.
A little while into the game, my son had still not made an appearance on the field and since I have no sports sense, I didn't think much of it. Until the coach (one of the most dedicated-to children-never -loses -their -patience -people I have ever met) came running over to me to tell me what was up.

Turns out my son was "not mentally prepared to play yet" and they were trying to get him on to the field, but he was resisting by making excuses, warming up...
I immediately thought of my conversation with him in the car on the way to the game:

"I'm so glad I get to come to your game today without Will and baby
Clare because I can really watch you play. Make sure you pay attention and
play your best because I will really be watching today."

This conversation was intended to make him feel special and supported, but I think it was a little too much pressure. What was I trying to do to this kid? Yikes.

So eventually the game ended and we were headed home. He filled the air with a recap of all of his shots toward the goal, how the coach tells him what a great job he is doing, how he got the ball from the other team and even how they almost won.

I felt like I was in the twilight zone for a moment--none of those things matched up with the kid I saw playing. When he would actually agree to play, he would run around kind of aimlessly and half heartedly, never really making contact with the ball, never really playing soccer.

My first thought was that he was delusional. Then I thought again. This soccer fantasy is what he wished had happened. It was how he imagined I wanted things to be and therefore how he wished they were.

I think of how often we wish we had done things differently and we know people we care about wish the same thing for us. When other people handle things better than us, or think of smarter ideas or catch on faster. When other kids are the ones who make contact with the ball and even kick it--in the right direction.

So instead of asking him why or correcting him, I just went along. I told him that he has a great team and that I think they are lucky to have him as a player. I wanted him to know that I knew how he felt, that I too had been there before, so I joined him in his soccer fantasy.

It was a good day, we made lots of great shots, and we almost won.

K

Argiope aurantia

We recently had this gorgeous and talented spider hanging near our front porch. We peeked in on her everyday, to see what she was up to and even saw her catch a fly, wrap it up and munch on it a little---good stuff!

We found out that she is a type of writing spider called argiope auratia and the bold zig zag that ran down the middle of her web is a trait of her species. The conspicuous line means fewer birds flying in to destroy the web, but it also tips off insects. These spiders catch 34% fewer insects than most other spiders.

One day, we checked on her and she was gone----Thank you for letting us be part of your interesting life for a few days.

gross things allowed

We are taking our family vacation next week and this time we are taking our babysitter with us. This brought up a conversation this morning about the difference between things that you say and do with just your family versus things that you say and do with people outside of your family. The sub-topics of this conversation included fart sounds (real or not) talking about or showing your private parts and saying really gross things, whether or not they have actually happened in our house.

Frankly, one of the things I was thinking of least when considering the ultimate compatibility of my partner and I as co-parents, was our level of tolerance for grossness and rudeness. Certainly there was the obvious; who will be changing the diapers, and will they retch each and every time they do so? Do either parties sneer at spit up, have difficulty with blood or gag at mucus? We’ve worked it out pretty well over the years, and generally I have less of a problem with grossness in general and when a garbage can needs to be washed, a puke blanket soaked or a diarrhea pillow scraped, I am usually the woman for the job.

Funny then, that I am generally the more uptight of the two of us. So when it comes to belching at the table or making fart noises for fun, I rarely join in.

My partner, as seems the natural order of things, is my polar opposite on such things. While I like a well-decorated home that smells like you just baked apple cinnamon muffins, she has a more realistic and some might say “childlike” attitude when it comes to family living. This is probably because of three basic things: 1. She grew up in a home with few rules about these things. 2. She has three brothers and she is kind of boyish. 3. She has two little boys and a tomboyish girl who all think it’s hysterical. Add these together, mix with a mother who is “the fun one” and wallows in this stuff and sometimes we have a simply disgusting state of chaos at the dinner table.

So, I tried to draw some lines in the sand about our upcoming trip. In the car ride this morning, I went over the nudity rules, the inappropriate sounds, the weird killing threats, the Fergie lyrics, the obsession with boobs, and bodily functions. And this time I told them I thought it was their other mom’s fault just as much as theirs. She was encouraging them, and I’d have to get her to stop if I expected us to have a pleasant and polite vacation.
You should have heard them.

“But that’s what makes her who she is! That’s what makes her so much fun!” they wailed. Faced with three distraught children who thought they were going to be robbed of their partner in crime, I caved, admitted that indeed, that was what made her “ so much fun.” And after all, it would be no fun to have two mothers who were just the same, especially two like me, even if I do get to be “the love one”.

Which leads me to resolve myself to the fact that during a our trip I will probably be asked to judge a belching contest at the dinner table and comment on the size of the boobs on the woman who is running the ride at the amusement park. And I will be smiling.

And so, years from now, when our children bring home prospective mates, and these mates are subjected to a jaw-rattling round of rude noises and doggy-snort imitations in sentimental memory of our experiences together, it’ll be a good proving ground. Let them learn a lesson from us. Get this issue on the table first, or you never know what will be happening at your table twenty years from now.

K

Favorite---Without Us?

I was recently able to close my Business Law text for good and not feel guilty about picking up a “fun” book to read this summer. So, I finished reading what was one of the best books I have read in a while. In The World Without Us, Alan Weisman takes the reader on a journey to the future (which I suppose could happen anytime) when humans are no longer on the planet - and the devastation and growth that happens simultaneously in the fallout.

The World Without Us explores what will happen when we are no longer here to maintain what we have built…and how the animals and fauna will start taking back the planet almost immediately upon our demise. Whether it be from an asteroid, a nuclear war or some pandemic, Weisman talks about the worst case scenario for us, that we disappear immediately. What would be a pretty bad experience for us humans would benefit the planet immensely - after it cleaned up our mess.

Between the nuclear plants melting down, skyscrapers collapsing into the Atlantic Ocean where Manhattan once reigned, subways filling with water, or damns giving way, it is going to be one wild ride once we disappear. It is amazing tale about the world itself as well as an exploration of what we humans have created on this planet, and if it doesn’t make you start thinking about your true place in the world, then you are not paying attention.

Weisman takes turns going back and forth between the future and the present, and along the way talks about various conditions around the world that are causing damage to our planet. For example, he talks about the floating plastic debris field in the middle of the Pacific Ocean called the North Pacific Subtropical Gyre, which is basically a circular graveyard where all of our plastic ends up. That single cup you let float into the ocean ends up here, along with another 18 million tons of plastic. Yes, we have created a virtual island out of plastic in the Pacific Ocean…

The next time you think the earth is in danger, think again, the earth will take care of itself…maybe by getting rid of us and all that we have done to it. This book is an incredible adventure through the aftermath, and The World Without Us is definitely worth a read or two.

Karen

April

Sometimes someone comes along in life at precisely the right time and gives you a little boost when you need it the most. April was that someone for my sister.

My sister is a tough cookie and it takes a lot to bring her down, but about twelve years ago, life was testing her to see just how strong she was. At that time, I was focused on all of the joys of having my first child. She, having faced numerous miscarriages was reminded that she would probably never bear a child. Along with this realization, her husband and major support person was incredibly ill with something seemingly impossible to diagnose. During a long hospitalization, we wondered if he would ever recover from this terrible mystery. His eventual diagnosis of Multiple Sclerosis meant that their lives would change forever.

April arrived in the middle of all of this chaos. A small black soul from the dog pound with history of abuse. She had a contagious happiness, and April brought joy to everyone she met. She was gentle force who was a good listener and aimed to please. My sister trained her to do all the normal dog commands plus a few extras, like "play dead" when she pretended to shoot a gun. We all loved it.

In time, April became a favorite member of the family. She was my brother in law's best friend as he endured numerous tests, medications and more and more diagnosis. My kids loved her funny nature and couldn't wait to take her for walks at all the family events over the years. My mom, a self proclaimed "dog disliker", opened her home willingly to her granddog and gave her special treats for Christmas and Easter. And my dad loved to pet her for hours as they lounged together on the sofa.

April recently passed away and it hit all of us pretty hard. We all knew that we hadn't given April as much as she had given us. But as is usually true with kind souls, they enjoy doing it and never expect anything in return. Goodbye, April, and thank you for being there when you were needed most. We will never forget you.

K

Help Wanted: Shadow Catcher

This morning was one of the first warm and sunny ones of the season. The kids were waiting for the bus to pull up and haul them off to school. I was dragging our over-filled, broken garbage cans down the driveway. The 3 year-old was digging in the dirt and everything seemed right with the world.

My six year-old son discovered his shadow and the shadows of his sister and our neighbors, long and tall in the early morning sun, and he decided to catch them all. He would run really fast, almost fall down and then jump as far as he could on to the shadow he was "catching". Then he would say, "Got it."

I reminded him to grab his backpack from the driveway as the bus arrived. "I'm really good at that mom--at catching shadows!" he told me.

What he said made me think of how we are all always looking for what we are good at in life and hoping that what we are good at and what we end up spending most of our time doing are closely related. Sometimes it's not, and we move on to other things. Sometimes we work and work until we become good at it, or at least good enough at it. Being a friend, a daughter, a role model, an employee, a partner, a neighbor, a shoulder to lean on, a listener----all things I am trying to learn to be good at.

I remember reading a book in my early twenties called "What Color is Your Parachute?" It was a resource for figuring out what career path would be best for you based on some quizzes that analyzed your strengths and skills. It said I should be a primary teacher--something I've been told over and over in my life that I would be good at. I'm not so sure about that.

I believe you have to be passionate about something to really be good at it. You have to really care or it won't work. When my son said he he was good at catching shadows, he meant that he not only could do it, but felt great about himself when he was doing it. He loved it. He was passionate about catching shadows.

Whatever my children choose to do in life will be fine with me as long as it really means something to them and they are living the way that works best for them. They may find their perfect life's work on the first try and stick with it. Or they may test out many different routes before they settle into the one that feels right. And in the meantime, if there are any openings for a shadow catcher, I know a good one.

K

hauberks, and pole arms and flails*--oh my!

My mom used to tell me that when choosing a gift for someone it is best to get them something that you would like to receive. I recently realized that that is darn good advice. I did not follow it and I'm stuck reading Lift a Flap Castles every single night. It was the gift that I would never want to receive, but I gave it--to my 6 year-old son on his birthday.

It looks harmless enough (even a little fun) from the outside. But as the rule goes...don't judge it by it's cover. It doesn't take long to realize that this winner, put out by the good people at Active Minds Publishing, is about as harmless and fun as the Batan Death March. It is wordy and boring and technical and even the small excitement you feel when you "lift the flap" ends immediately when you are faced with more lengthy descriptions of every implement, article of clothing, castle room and weapon used in the Middle Ages.

I'm a little ashamed to say that I've tried to hide Castles and break out If you Give a Moose a Muffin for another read, but to no avail. He loves the thing, and I'm the one who found it, wrapped it and gave it to him.

So I read again how the lord and lady's bedroom is called a solar, how the enemy could dig a hole to undermine the castle and how every tower had enough food to be self sufficient. Again and again until I feel like I'm in some midevil torture chamber--excuse me "oubliette".

As I'm reading and listening to his questions--the same ones he asks every time we read it, I hear the ticking. That sound in my head that I'm glad is there to remind me that these days will not last forever, they are numbered and when they are gone, I will never see them again. The days where a little boy who is fresh from the bathtub hangs on every word I say. His sleepy eyes struggle to stay open for a few more minutes and his huge mind dreams of all that will be.

K

*hauberk--the mesh chain shirt a knight wears
*pole arm--a type of spear that is stuck into the ground
*flail--a weapon with a wooden rod, a chain and a square pointy thing on the end

Some Enchanted Scoreboard

I loved "Enchanted", the new Disney movie where princess Giselle is banished from fairytale land and thrown into present day New York City. It's a funny, musical, look at how someone can adapt and thrive--even under the most unfamiliar circumstances.

It makes me think about all the different times I've been thrown into a strange land--a strange situation and been as clueless and scared as Giselle was when she encountered her first rude NYC cabbie. There was the time a hospital sent me home with a four day old baby. What were they thinking? Or when I started a job that I had embellished my resume a little bit to get. I was kind of familiar with the Excel program, well I had used it before, well...I had heard of it before.

But, most recently I've been thrown from the fairytale land of little kids playing cute sports and no one caring who wins or loses into the expensive, hard to get into, high pressure, competetive world of basketball for 10 year old girls.

There are cut throat girls, grumpy loud coaches, pushy moms and a million rules. Rule #1--you better win, or kill yourself trying.

It was scary at first, but I'm adapting--I have to. One of the most important people in my life thinks it is very important, so I do too.

I'll keep going to all the games, practices, scrimmages (I just found out what that meant) and tournaments and before you know it I'll be just like Giselle singing her way through Central park with a following of kind people and even kinder animals. Soon I will be happier now that I am here then I was before I landed in this strange land.


K