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Taking On The Spooky Things

Sierra — Tue, 31 Jan 2012 18:13:41 +0000

For the past several months (basically since she started preschool), Serena has been grappling with The Spooky Things. They live inside the scary thoughts in her head. They come out when she’s alone, and especially when she is in the bathroom.

Before I go further, about the bathroom fears: A commenter at Strollerderby suggested the possibility that Something Happened to make Serena afraid of going to the bathroom. I don’t think so.

I was afraid of bathrooms at night when I was a kid, too. I think they’re just kind of scary places. When asked why she needs company in the bathroom, Serena says that at her school, kids are allowed to go to the potty in pairs and she just got used to having someone with her. Her teacher confirms that the kids are allowed privacy or a potty buddy, and that Serena always chooses to go with a friend. I don’t think there’s anything Actually Scary going on here. She just likes having company while she pees, and has fixated on some Scary Thoughts.

This means that I have to go with her to the bathroom every single time she wants to pee. It is not my favorite thing, both because it means my little girl is suffering from some anxiety I don’t fully understand and because it means I have to drop what I’m doing several times a day to run to the potty with her. I am ready for the Spooky Things to be vanquished.

I’ve been trying to plant the idea that she might be able to deal with the Scary Thoughts herself, using tools she herself controls. Happy Thoughts. A special stuffed kitty. The sure knowledge that vampires do not exist. Anything.

This morning she came to the breakfast table with a solution.

“Mommy, I want to do a thing in the summer,” she said. “That thing is KARATE.”

“She means that for real,” Rio piped up. “A real class, with a real teacher at a real karate school.”

“OK!” I said. I love the idea of martial arts education for kids, and am eager to get mine into it. Rio has always refused. If Serena wants to take karate lessons I will sign her up tomorrow.

“I am going to use KARATE to beat the Spooky Things,” Serena said.

“You…what? OK! Yes!”

“She is going to use karate on the scary thoughts in her head,” Rio said, as if explaining gravity to someone who has just fallen. “I noticed she was doing lots of fake karate moves, so I told her that karate would work on Scary Thoughts.”

Serena nods sagely. “KARATE.”

Then she carefully explained that she would be doing karate only with the upper part of her body, while her lower half is occupied with potty business. She really has this all worked out.

For some reason, she wants to wait till summer to take these classes. But when she gets home from school in an hour, I’m going to try her out on some YouTube instructional videos. I have no idea how good those are, but I bet they can help her become tough enough to challenge her Spooky Things.

Sloths

Sierra — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 20:39:43 +0000

Rio’s interest in reproduction continues unabated. Now her questions have moved on to the animal kingdom. She recently learned about sloths somewhere (maybe at school?), and tried out with her dad and her sister making sloth motions at bedtime.

This cleverly dragged out bedtime to record levels, and gave both girls an object lesson in just how slowly one can move. Win.

A few days later, she turns to her dad and says, “You know when animals want to make more animals, and they put their bodies together to do it?”

Dad, cautiously, “yessss?”

“When two sloths want to make more sloths, how long does that take?”

Strangers with Candy

Sierra — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 06:29:49 +0000

I posted about this elsewhere, but it’s annoying me enough that I want to talk about it here. This safety alert went out from the principal of our neighborhood school:

A message from Benjamin G. Brown School Principal Kathleen Seward I am writing to alert you to an incident that was reported after school yesterday. After dismissal yesterday, January 24th, a fifth grade student was approached on the community bike path going into Davis Square by a man walking his dog. The man allegedly asked the student if he/she wanted candy. When the student responded no, the man asked if the student was sure/ The student said yes, and then the man continued walking his dog along the bike bath away from the square. There were no other words exchanged and no physical contact. When the student arrived home, the parent/guardian was alerted and a police report was filed. The police have been working with the family and with me to follow up on the report. In the coming days, there will be an increased police presence along the bike path during the time of dismissal. As a school, we will be reviewing stranger danger guidelines with all students. If you see or hear anything related or similar to this incident, please do just as this family did and alert the police as well as me. As always, do not hesitate to call me with questions or for further clarification. Best, Kathleen Seward

I responded on the list this went out on, saying:

This is very frustrating to me. Is it now a crime to offer a child a piece of candy? I live in this neighborhood. I want my kids to have a sense of community, and to know their neighbors. Not to have their interactions with friendly adults literally policed. I see this kind of paranoid reaction to normal behavior as a much more present danger to my children than the very low risk that they might encounter a stranger who wishes to harm them.

I cited some statistics, probably familiar to most of you here: Strangers giving out poisoned candy is an urban myth; there’s never been a documented case of it. ’Stranger Danger’ is incredibly rare. Only about 115 children are kidnapped by strangers in the U.S. each year. That’s about 115 too many, as even one would be too many. But it is a very, very small number.

The vast majority of child disappearances are runaways or family kidnappings, a child being taken by a non-custodial parent or grandparent. Just as with adults, the vast majority of crimes are committed by perpetrators known to the victim.

Do I think it’s great boundaries to offer a 10-yr-old walking alone a piece of candy? No. I probably wouldn’t do it. If my kid came home and said a man had offered her candy and she felt afraid or creeped out during their interaction, I’d strongly praise her intuition. It’s possible this guy was a creepy jerk. Even if he was just friendly and clueless, the kid did the right thing to say no and get on his way. Yay kid!

From there, though, we depart the realm of sanity. Why did the parents file a police report? Why are my city and school resources being wasted on extra police details and a school-wide review of “stranger danger”? This stranger probably wasn’t dangerous, and the kid knew how to react anyway.

I hate the fact that just talking to a child is being treated like a crime. I really do see this as a more present and insidious danger to my children than the distant specter of a stranger wanting to kidnap them. This kind of overblown reaction to a simple event leads to broken trust in a community. The goal seems to be to teach my children to see everyone they encounter as a serious threat, someone who potentially wants to kidnap or kill them. That’s not the case, and it’s a scary, broken view of the world.

OK. I’ll get off my soapbox now. More cute kid stories, coming soon. In the meantime, if you see my girls out playing, feel free to offer them a friendly word. Go easy on the candy though, they’re still working through their Halloween stash.

What Marriage Means To Me

Sierra — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 23:22:56 +0000

One of my commenters on the last post asked me what marriage means to me. She had a long interesting story around her question; I recommend reading hers and all the comments on that post.

It’s tempting to be glib and say marriage doesn’t mean much to me: I got married as an expedient way to ensure legal and financial protections for my family. We eloped together; there was no wedding, no vows, no photos. I’d cheerfully vote for the abolition of legal marriage; would love to see the state sever the link between state-sanctioned domestic partnerships and the personal decision to marry.

All of that is true. But I’ve been married for most of my adult life. Over time, our marriage has taken on meaning that wasn’t apparent to me when we began this journey together. Here’s an excerpt from my post about marriage after my husband’s parents’ 50th wedding anniversary:

Marriage is a vessel, he said, and of necessity an imperfect one. It becomes what we make it. It’s the container that holds the love and work and play of a family. A place to pour in our love, but also (though he didn’t say so on stage last night) our fears, our hopes, our small mean edges and our wild, generous hearts. A vessel for all the love and passion and struggle and Stuff we bring into our family, our home, our relationships.

That’s what marriage is to me: the container in which we do the work and play of life. It’s what holds us through the big life decisions and little disputes and moments of wonder.

What does this have to do with being poly? Not a lot. I’m not married to anyone other than Martin, and I don’t imagine I ever will be. I have important relationships with friends and lovers, but no one else shares this specific bond. I’ve seen people expand their marriages to include more than two partners, and seen that thrive. But for us, for the life we have now, the vessel of my marriage is a space I share with Martin alone. It’s a container strong and flexible enough to support the rich lives we share with our varied interests, beloved partners, wonderful family and many friends.

Talking About Open Marriage

Sierra — Mon, 23 Jan 2012 05:06:46 +0000

Hello Salon readers!

If you came here from there, you already know I’m on Salon talking about my open marriage.

If you’re a regular reader of this blog (hi, Mom!), you can go there for the juicy details about my romantic life, and then come back here for some regularly scheduled programming. Or you can choose to skip this chapter entirely – it’s not that relevant to the main theme of this blog. Mom, fair warning, there are details about sex in that Salon piece. You might prefer to keep reading here.

Now, since I’ve broached this topic, I’ll do something I’m often not eager to do and answer questions about it. Leave ‘em in the comments if you got ‘em. I’ll make another post in a day or two with answers about whatever: jealousy, schedules, STIs, anything you want to ask. If the questions are rude I’ll cheerfully ignore them, but anything asked in good faith I’ll try to answer.

The Boots

Sierra — Sat, 21 Jan 2012 19:36:53 +0000

Rio’s school has these Parent Teacher Learning Groups. They’re like little conciousness raising groups on various topics, and are one of the big things I love about her school. You can form a group about anything: knitting, diversity, stress management.

This year I’m in a group focused on activism. Our big activity for the year: a clothing swap. Any long time reader of this blog knows I love me some clothing swaps. So.

We had our clothing swap last week and it was a TRIUMPH. People brought mountains of clothes. They took clothes away. They nodded appreciatively when I explained why this was a swap and not a fundraiser (because we believe everyone has something to give, and everyone has a need, and this is a good way to express both).

I scored a few items, including a skirt I’ve worn twice since the swap. But this isn’t about me. It’s about The Boots.

The Boots appeared in one of the boxes of shoes Rio was unpacking while she helped do set up the night before the swap. They are knee high black leather, with straps and pockets and lots of sassy detail. They are well made and in great condition. They are a little big for her, but not so big that she can’t wear them comfortably.

She fell in love with these boots. Of course she did.

I would not let her have them.

I told her we were setting up, and it wouldn’t be fair to the other kids to let her have first pick of everything, and that the boots were not mine to give until the swap opened at 8 a.m. the next day. I was very fair, and not necessarily right.

To help her out, I signed up for the early shift at the swap, so that I’d be there half an hour before the event started. I figured I could grab them for her if no one else got to them first.

Guess who was up and dressed at 6:30 a.m., ready to go to school and help out some more if it meant getting first crack at those shoes?

All of us, because her enthusiasm was infectious.

When we got to the school, though, we found that the boots had been moved. Rio’s teacher, who we think is the Platonic Ideal of elementary school teachers, had scooped them up and saved them for her, as a reward for all her hard work.

Which is better than me bending the rules on her behalf, and better than just getting lucky. It is the best. You’d think those fancy boots had wings; Rio flew through the day as soon as she put them on. She’s been floating ever since.

Today, she and her dad got a shoe polish kit and lovingly polished them, which made sense since these boots were built to last. They are the first really high quality shoes she has had, and I have no doubt that 20 years from now, she’ll remember these boots and the teacher who gave them to her.

Thanks, Maggie!

Happy (Belated) New Year!

Sierra — Fri, 13 Jan 2012 04:35:41 +0000

Hello, beloved readers, and welcome to 2012! This blog was hacked by ~~some nefarious douchebag~~ a bored kid around New Year’s, and I’ve just now gotten it back online, thanks to the efforts of my amazing girlfriend.

So here we are, new year, new blank page, new blog. I’d resolved to blog every day for 2012, like you do, and today is the first day I even can. What to make of that?

Whatevs. In an effort to get back to what I love about blogging I’m determined to worry less about the audience and more about the words. We’ll see how it goes. Here are three things I’ve loved so far about the new year:

Discovering Girl Genius.
Getting back to writing at Strollerderby.
Playing with Spotify.

What have you been up to?

Happy 7.5 Birthday, Rio!

Sierra — Thu, 24 Nov 2011 18:09:40 +0000

While the rest of us prepare for a day full of traditional foods and connecting with family, Rio has noticed that she is exactly 7.5 years old today, and wishes to celebrate that. So, without further ado:

Happy Half Birthday, Rio!

May you continue to be brave, kind, wild, clever and unafraid of asking for every odd thing you desire.

We are baking her a lemon meringue pie, which was what she asked for and also the pie my great-grandmother made for me every time I visited her when I was a kid, and on every special occasion.

Enjoy the day, however you celebrate it.

Sloths

Sierra — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 19:30:13 +0000

A few days later, at bedtime, Rio comes up with a question.

“Daddy? You know how animals get together to make more animals?”

“yes?”

“Well, when two sloths do that…how long does that take?”

The Spooky Things

Sierra — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 17:42:43 +0000

Since she started school, Serena has developed this fear of being alone. She wants someone with her at all times: while she’s eating her snack, going up and down stairs, and especially when she goes to the bathroom.

She says she’s afraid of “spooky things”.

The other morning, I was standing in the bathroom watching her pee and she said, “Mama! I don’t need you to be in the bathroom with me right now. The spooky things that I am afraid of can’t wake up when it’s this bright out. Even if they do wake up, they can’t come out. They can’t be in this bright.”

Great.

And then I thought, ‘wait, the spooky things come from somewhere?’ This is the first I have heard of that, and it’s exciting. If she knows where the spooky things live, maybe I can help her get rid of them for good. I’m imagining they’re in the bathroom cabinet, and that opening it up and cleaning it together might do the trick.

“Where do the spooky things come from?” I ask.

“From the scary thoughts inside my head.”

Oh.

Oh, those spooky things. We have all met them, the frightening thoughts that bubble up when we’re alone in the dark. Sorry, kid. No cure for that one. At least for now you can have Mama hold your hand while you pee.

I don’t know what I’ll tell her in 20 years when the spooky things are about bills and relationships and global warming.