Tag Archives: kids

Say It Ain’t So: TSA for Kids

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A few weeks ago, I threatened to start a series of posts categorized as “Say It Ain’t So,” where the Dude could wax poetically about the ridiculousness of the world we live in. I was half joking, but I continue to be amazed by ridiculous ridiculousness, so I’ve decided to follow through…for at least one more post.

First it was Kidazania, but now The Man is pulling out all the stops with his craftiness.

Fan of TSA? Like being faced with the great choice of walking through copious amounts radiation so dudes in a back room can look at a naked version of you OR being forcibly groped, just so you can sit in a tin can banging elbows with the dude next to you and not being offered free peanuts?!  Seems like a blast, and definitely something free Americans who demonstrate no threat should be forced to endure in order to travel on a plane.

Right, the terrorists. They attacked by taking over planes before; I’m sure they couldn’t come up with another way to attack if they want to. Perhaps attaching bombs to themselves and blowing up public facilities (without TSA) like they do every day in the Middle East?

We’re so reactionary. Uh oh, caught a shoe bomber. Everyone take their shoes off from now on. Dude, they already tried that…and somehow you stumbled into stopping them. My guess is he must have had a big sign that said “I have a bomb in my shoe.” How about you try to stay a step ahead rather than continually trying to build fear in the populace to cover up your inept attempts to keep people safe.

Or maybe that’s the evil plan. Keep people scared and slowly remove their rights in the name of keeping them safe until we lose the ability, and the will, to say no.

Good luck stopping the “bomb implants” they  are now scaring us with (and by “they” I mean The Man, not the terrorists). How far can we take this? Will we all be getting a surgical procedure in order to board a plane?

If the “terrorists,” whatever that actually means, want to hurt people, they can…in a million different ways. The high school dropouts running the TSA checkpoints are not going to save us.

But they sure as shit will steal your stuff and/or make your grandmother remove her Depends to give a full search…of a clearly dangerous 105 pound, 95 year old woman, in a wheelchair.

But I digress…Say it ain’t so. A toy TSA scanner so every child in America can enjoy the fun it is to scan and search other free, unarmed, and non-dangerous children! Awesome!…and only $14.41 on Amazon!

Seriously, please say it ain’t so. Is the world really this crazy? Then again, that little punk in the picture sure does look like he’s having fun getting searched…maybe I’m the crazy one.

The Man sure is crafty. Is Kidzania using these yet?…they must be.

Update: It’s seems like a full-time job reporting on the blunders of the TSA, and I’m not looking for another job, but this news item was well timed, and too juicy to pass by this morning. Less than 12 hours after writing the above post, this morning’s headline reads: “Lawmakers Blast TSA Over 25k Security Breaches.” Yes, that’s 25,000 security breaches from 2001 to 2011. I feel safer already…good thing we’re giving up our liberties.

Let’s Paint

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How rad is this little princess?!

The Dude is a believer that we all have art inside of us. It’s just a matter of figuring out how to get it out. My guess is that art vibe gets buried deeper the longer we wait to bring it out…always there none-the-less.

Never to early to bring out the artist. Plus, kids have that raw connection.

This is four year-old Aelita Andre. She has a solo show opening at New York City’s Agora Gallery on June 4th. It should probably not come as too much of a surprise that a child should be able to produce beautiful, abstract expressionist art on par with the professionals, who are probably tapping their “inner children,” anyway.

The beauty of Aelita is that she has been given the freedom to create. She has been given free reign to express herself, with as much space and materials to explore her creativity as anyone could want. As a result, she displays real talent; working in a thoughtful, methodical way, and making deliberate creative choices.

Amazing to watch such a peanut be so focused and intense.

Say It Ain’t So: Kidzania

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Are we really building “amusement parks” where we are willing to pay for kids to be exposed to mass marketing/consumerism and work in a mini-world as mini-adults?!

It seems like we are. Kidzania hasn’t arrived in the US yet, but it has locations around the world, and could be in your neighborhood soon.

Here’s Wikipedia’s definition:

Every KidZania is themed as a child-sized replica of a real city, including buildings, shops and theaters, as well as vehicles and pedestrians moving along its streets. In this city, children aged 2 through 14, work in branded activities from bottling Coca-Cola, working in a Crest-sponsored dentist office, and working at a McDonalds restaurant. The children earn KidZos currency while performing the tasks, and the money is kept in the KidZania bank for children to spend at the gift shop and on non-free KidZania activities. The blending of marketing has led The Morning News to dub KidZania as “advertainment”, stating “there is little that’s pretend, and the play revolves around following instructions from the adult Zupervisors.”

Sounds like a blast, right? Pay money to be exposed to marketing and work in menial jobs getting bossed around by Zupervisors for low wages that accumulate in fake banks (that probably lose your money on bad investments) so you can pay for more consumerism. Holy shit?! What’s wrong with us?

Really, I’m going to pay you to allow my kids to wash car windows and pump gas, all while you flash your company logos in our faces?

Adults don’t want to act like adults. Why would we make menial labor and purchasing junk seem like it’s fun for our children? How about some imagination, art, music, reading, physical activity, and god-forbid some non-big-business related fun? A beach perhaps?…and it’s free.

I can feel the brainwashing seeping into our domes…and it’s scary that we’re letting it happen.

Princess, Little Dude, please don’t ask; Kidzania is off limits.

Perhaps “Say It Ain’t So” needs to be a new regular installment for the Dude….an area where I wax poetically about the ways of the world. Eh, maybe not.

Week 17: Occupational Hazards

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Occupational Hazards

Occupational Hazards

“Does he smell?” As she holds his ass in the air.

And the Dude’s first reaction is to lean over for  a sniff!?  “Nope.”

Later the same day, as I dozed off on the couch for an afternoon siesta, Mrs. Dude asked if a sleeping Little Dude could lay with me.  Of course the answer was yes.  As she laid him on my chest, we realized the turd had definitely escaped.

But he’s sleeping.  We knew we were safer if we let him sleep.  So The Boy and his dirty diaper dozed with me for a half hour.

Occupational hazards I guess.

Make no mistake about it, parenting is an occupation.  But an occupation unlike any other.  I’m still new at this game; I’m sure Mr. Huxtable could drop some parenting knowledge on me, but from what I gather, there is a lot of hard work and a lot of sacrifice.

Can you think of any other job you would volunteer to be on call 24/7 for zero pay (actually pay them to work…I think the average kid costs like a bazillion dollars these days.)?  And sniff butts and nap with a dirty diaper?  I think not.

Some jobs run the risk of carpal tunnel.  Parenting runs the risk of no sleep and stank butts.

On the flip side, the obvious response is that the rewards of watching your kids grow up are priceless.  No argument there.

But the effort involved is somewhat priceless too.  It’s tough to find the same dedication a parent is willing offer.

Week 17 brought on a battle with the Hands, Foot, and Mouth virus.  7+ days of cranking.

Since Little Dude is already fighting through reflux, we didn’t realize the cranking could be HFM until some hives arrived.  We confirmed it at the doctor the next day.

Reflux and HFM lead to a worn out Little Guy.  He handled it all pretty well, but the true champion is Mrs. Dude.  A worn out kid leads to a worn out parent…someone needs to pick up the slack.

Parenting in general is an occupation full of hazards, but an at-home mom is like pulling double-shifts every day…for years.  No time off, no personal space, 100% attention on someone else’s well-being.

Thanks for all of the hard work Mrs. Dude.  You’re an amazing Mom.

Daily Pixels: Kids are Awesome!

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30 seconds!  Of Spinning!  And I missed 20 seconds before this.

When was the last time you spun yourself in circles for 30 seconds?  Right, not since you were five.

Kids are down with the purest forms of fun. 

PS – Two references to Ratt in less than a week?!  Strange. 

The Dude will freely admit being a fan of some 80’s hair metal.  Motley Crue’s Home Sweet Home?…classic!  However, I can honestly say that I’ve never owned any Ratt albums.  Ok, I did have a Ratt pin for my jean jacket in 3rd grade, but that was only because it was a sweet 80’s guitar, and it provided the perfect compliment for the Def Leppard patch on the back. 

But spinning and Round and Round just seemed to be a natural fit.  Plus all of my loyal readers who double as metal-heads loved their daily dose of hair last week, so why not an encore?

Santa Has Rules

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Rain on the weekend is usually a bummer.  But after a 12 hour shift of manual labor on Saturday, a rainy Sunday is somewhat of a blessing.

I intended to catch-up on some yard work and clean up the work area from Saturday’s project, but just as I started, the rain began to fall.  Being forced inside was a bit frustrating at first, but a relaxing day inside grew on me pretty quickly.

However, for kids, a day inside is the antithesis of relaxing.  I’m not sure if we get lazier as we age, but parents clearly don’t share the same level of energy as kids.  And when they are locked inside with limited options for entertainment the pent up energy begins to build.  By 3PM the built up energy is ready to explode.

Signs of nervous energy begin to grow.  The feet start tapping.  The body starts to move.  Spontaneous dancing.  Lots of spinning in circles.  Attempts are made to turn furniture into trampolines.  Eventually it leads to pestering the parents looking for something to do.

The Princess started her Sunday lock-down with all of the above, which eventually led to following the Dude around the house, primarily hanging off my clothes, but also telling the same jokes over and over.  And I use the word jokes loosely.  It was mainly the Princess hiding where I can see her and then jumping out to scare me.  Clearly we needed some activities.

After listening to “I want that,” following every commercial, it occurred to me to have The Princess create a letter/list for Santa.  Yes, I know it’s only October, and don’t get me started on the concept of  Santa, but from a practical perspective, I see the value in kids using their imagination, this will give her time to think through what she’s asking for, and most importantly, this will easily kill an hour in lock-down.

However, prior to starting this process, the Dude needed to lay down some ground rules.

Dude:  “Santa likes to bring you gifts that help make you a well rounded person.  Like art, music, books, or paints.

The Princess:  “No, he brings toys.”

Dude:  “OK.  He likes to bring toys too.  But he has rules.  1.  Santa needs specifics.  2.  He will not bring the same toys you already have. And 3.  He will not bring multiples of the same toy.”

The Princess:  “Whatever.”

The Dude is easily dismissed, but I’m also the funding behind Santa, so these were necessary rules.

The Princess likes to explain what she wants with vague descriptions like “It’s small, but gets big.  And it’s round.  And you can play with it.”  Any idea what that might be?  I have no clue.  She also likes to ask for the newer versions of toys she already has that are collecting dust in her room.  And lastly, she likes to ask for complete sets of toys.  Like every My Little Pony.  Do you know how many MLP’s there are?  I don’t either, but The Princess does, and she can name each of them.  She wants all of them…even though they all look the same, do the same thing (nothing), and an abundance are collecting dust in her room.

So, Santa needs some rules.

Dear Santa,

I’m The Princess, and I’m super rad!

Hearts & Stars 4-Eva.

Love,
The Princess

  1. Unicorn pillow pet
  2. Barbie & the Mermaid Tail movie
  3. I have plenty of lipstick.
  4. Squeekies

It’s a work in progress, but the process was fun, it gave The Princess a reason to concentrate and think, and it burned some time.  All around winner.

The thought process definitely burned a bit of energy, but not nearly enough.  So, after the Santa exercise, we resorted to the simplest form of rainy day entertainment.  Rain boots, raincoat, and some splashing in the rain.

Singing In the Rain

Singing In the Rain

Week Nine – Chaos

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Big Eyes

Big Eyes

Six kids.  One roof.

8 weeks, 11 weeks, 2, 4, 5, and 6 years.

There is no way to describe week nine other than chaos.  Pure, unadulterated chaos.

We had the pleasure of my sister and the kids visiting from Sunday to Thursday, and included in their luggage is a guaranteed bag o’ chaos.

As a primo example, towards the close of the first full day of the ruckus, both infants had wails and tears pouring out of them while one brother bit the other, eliciting more screams and tears, and the two year old princess proceeded to pee directly on the bathroom floor (Why?  “Because I like to pee on the floor.”  How do you argue with that logic?).  At the same time.  A complete overload.

To offer one more example, my sister felt it would be a good idea to leave Little Dude and my newest nephew alone with the Dude while the rest of the gaggle went around the corner to play.  “Both are sleeping.  Nothing to worry about.”

Really?  How long do you think that slumber will last once all scent of mommy vacates the building?  Right, long enough for them to be out of screaming distance.

The Intimidator

The Intimidator

I wrestled with two screaming infants for 25 minutes, and I use the term “infant” very loosely.  I can handle Little Dude, and he does resemble an infant.  However, The Intimidator, he is a completely different story.

These infants are nineteen days apart, but on the growth chart they are 75 percentage points apart, 25% to 95%!  Can an infant intimidate a grown man?

Simple answer, yes.  I consider myself a strapping young man (sounds like something my grandmother would say), but this kid had my number for 25 minutes.

It was like wrestling a toddler.  I love the swaddle.  I swaddle Little Dude and put him out in minutes.  The Intimidator kicked out of my tightly constructed swaddle before I could pick him up.  And before he commenced his true scream, I think he laughed at me…in my face.  Then he proceeded to scream with the low radio voice of Cassey Cassum.  I swear this 11 week old baby had a deeper voice than me.

In between my prayers and walking from one end of the house to the other, Little Dude would chime in with his own scream fest.  They fed off each other for 25 minutes.

Right. Chaos.

Chaos tends to have a negative connotation, and these tales seem to lend credence to that negative perspective, but chaos isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Chaos theory is an intriguing school of thought that weaves an intricate mosaic of mathematics, physics, economics and philosophy to develop a theory of behavior for dynamic systems that are highly sensitive to seemingly insignificant conditions  I.E. the “butterfly effect,” where the flapping of a butterfly’s wings in Africa is theorized to make a considerable impact in the development of weather conditions across the globe.

This understanding of chaos can hardly be considered negative.  It draws a  complicated network of connections from the irrelevant to the significant.  It brings an intense focus to average events.  It forces us to live in the “now,” and pay attention to the variety of stimulus and activity occurring around us at all times.  The majority of spiritual practices seem to point towards this same focus.  Hardly negative.

Otherwise, if we neglect to appreciate the mundane, minor actions will have much larger, potentially detrimental, effects.

That’s right, I just tied mathematics, physics, economics, philosophy, spirituality, and parenting together under a single theory.  That adds a lot more importance to week nine.

But, it makes sense.  With six kids running around, every action becomes important.  Every decision plays a role in how the next decision will play out.

Technically, this is true for every decision we ever make, but life with six kids is far less forgiving than “normal life.”  Every decision needs to be executed to perfection or you’ll pay the price, which is usually a crying, diaper filled baby that can’t be calmed or an explosion of glitter that covers the floor like Times Square on January 1.  Either one not the end of the world, but definite speed bumps that lead to increased chaos with six rug rats running the show.

“Living in the now,” and “going with the flow” become necessary requirements.  As The Dude wisely bestowed in The Big Lebowski, the Dude abides.

Abiding is the only way to survive in chaos.

Unfortunately, this is easier said than done.

The population at Casa de Dude consisted of six kids, the Dude and the Mrs., my sister, and her au pair.  My brother-in-law stayed home to work (Wink, wink.  You’re welcome for the vacation), so the Dude was the sole hombre of the casa.

This is a tough line to walk.  Dude of the house, fun uncle, and peaceful warrior abiding every minor step of the way.  Is it possible to maintain such a focus?…without an elevated level of stress?

Mrs. Dude thinks I’m a different person when the chaos ensues.  She’s probably right.  Maintaining an increased level of alertness requires a different frame of mind.  But with practice, stress dissipates and relaxation grows.

I tend to handle the chaos of two better than the chaos of six, but the exposure is developing my tolerance.  I watch my sister’s level of calm patience with every minor explosion, and I realize how much she is controlling the chaos.  If she allowed her butterfly wings to flutter aggressively with every tiny issue, the chaos would be pushed down the road of destruction rather than fun very quickly.

This tolerance takes time to develop, but it’s great to feel the calluses of parenting growing on the fabric of the Dude’s daily existence.  This tolerance and attention to detail are great habits to develop.  They will pay dividends as the kids grow…and as we visit with family more and more.

Little Dude embraced this attitude throughout week nine.  He has shown an increased level of peace and tranquility.  He handled six kids without any increased level of stress.

Although, he did get his two month vaccinations on Friday which led to the need for increased comforting for a couple days, but the peace and tranquility seem to be habits that are sticking around.  I guess the Dude has a lot to learn from Little Dude too.

You Can Call Life Whatever You Want

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A general theme is developing around the Dude’s house, and it’s a theme developed by a five year old princess; “You Can Call Life Whatever You Want.”

The original discussion centered around the word “water.”  The Princess pronounces water “wuter;” it could be a southern thing.  The Dude asked her about this, and the Princess explained that water and wuter are the same thing.   The Dude must have appeared perplexed because this was followed by “You can call life whatever you want.”  And the overriding household theme began.

It seems like this phrase is referenced on a daily basis, like when freckles are referred to as nipples (as in “How did you get nipples on your hand?” or “You have a nipple on your face.”) or zucchini is referenced as bikini (As in “I don’t want any bikinis on my plate.”).

However, it has morphed into a justified reason for almost all of the nuances of life, like a tooth fairy debate:  Princess proclaims, “The tooth fairy brings gold coins.”  Dude responds, “I’m not so sure about that.”  Princess follows with “That’s ok, you can call life whatever you want.”