Luck of the Irish

For the past two weeks, Julianna has been talking in an "Irish" accent.

But as LJ put it, "She actually sounds more like a German cowboy."

Julianna's fascination with all things green and Irish stems from a book someone read her at school about St. Patrick's Day.

Most recently, her focus has turned to catching a Leprechaun. Tonight, she spent about an hour turning an old shoe box into a trap (pictured). She baited the trap with a miniature chocolate bar wrapped in gold foil.

I asked her what she will do with a Leprechaun if she catches it, and she told me: "I would never hurt it. I just want to say hello and release it."

According to Julianna, the legend says, "If you harm a Leprechaun, you will never get to see another one."

Julianna also says she "made that legend up."

To be certain the Leprechaun knows she means no harm, she made a sign and place it next to her trap (pictured here).

I've warned Julianna how sneaky and tricky those Leprechauns can be. And LJ -- who has made his own unsuccessful traps in the past -- also knows the difficulties of catching one.

But maybe this year, just this once, Julianna will be able to catch one.

All it takes is a little luck of the Irish.

Or in her case, the luck of a German cowboy.

Thomas Jefferson Ate My Homework

LJ and I spent the better (or worse) part of this morning working on his biography of Thomas Jefferson. The goal? To hand-write a four-paragraph report about Jefferson complete with a colorful cover.

When this report was assigned at least a month ago I swore up, down, and sideways that we would not, under any circumstances, wait until the final week to finish the report.

Now here we are, five days out, just starting it. And I am feeling the pressure.

Yes, me. Not him. Because let's be real here. Given that LJ is only in second grade, ultimately, this is my report -- a reflection of my Mommy skills.

At age 8, kids are essentially still puppets on a string. If he is late to school, it's my fault. If he loses his library book, that's on me. And if his biography on Thomas Jefferson stinks, well ... the blame lies here.

I'm not saying that LJ doesn't share some responsibility in any of this. On the contrary, I think reports like this help teach valuable lessons about planning (procrastinating), research (shortcuts), and taking pride in one's work (getting it done).

This report is particularly trying because it combines LJ's two least favorite things -- handwriting and drawing. If it was a vegetable, it would be Brussels sprouts.

But I know we will get through this together -- me with the cattle prodder and LJ with the eraser. Somehow, some way, before Friday, LJ will write those 412 words about Jefferson. And he will craft a beautiful drawing of our third President to go along with it.

I even have confidence that we will complete the accompanying project due just 10 days later. LJ is actually pretty excited about turning a huge piece of foam board into a $2 bill with Jefferson's likeness. Go figure.

Yes, we'll gt it done. Both the paper and the project.

Now, the Thomas Jefferson costume he needs for the class play? That's a whole other matter. Where is Betsy Ross when you need her?

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Words

Put a boy and a girl in front of a camera and ask them to smile: it's a great study of nature vs. nurture and the inherent differences between males and females.

If the boy is anything like LJ, he will groan, contort his face, and make some sort of awkward hand gesture just to add "character" to the picture. If the girl is anything like Julianna, she will fluff her hair, angle her face to her "best side," and then pose like she's a model.

My good friend Angie Brement is a talented child photographer based in the Charlottesville area. While she was visiting us last weekend, she spent some time taking pictures of LJ and Julianna.

I knew going into the photo session that LJ would be less than pleased because he would have to stand still and follow instructions. I also knew that Julianna would be thrilled because she could wear a dress and be the center of attention.

I warned Angie that it might be a difficult session, but with two daughters of her own, she was unfazed.

To convince LJ to participate, we agreed to let him wear his Tyler Hansbrough and Peyton Manning jerseys ... and bring a basketball and football along as "props."

True to form, when Angie started taking pictures, LJ ran in the opposite direction and insisted he only wanted "action" shots of him playing basketball. He also demanded a series of "in-motion" football and track pictures.

Julianna, on the other hand, did not want to lean against or sit on anything that appeared to be even the slightest bit dirty. She was happy to have her picture taken, but she had her own artistic ideas, including posing in front of a garden full of dead flowers.

About mid-way through the session, Angie asked LJ for a "big favor" ... could he please, just for a moment, hold Julianna's hand a walk slowly through a rose arbor.

It was, without a doubt, one of the most painful moments of LJ's existence.

First, he refused.

Then, I threatened him.

Next, he grabbed Julianna's hand and dragged her through the arbor nearly pulling her down.

Then, I threatened him again.

He obliged, but bent over with his head hanging near the ground as if he was thinking, "If any of my friends see me, I will never live this down."

Then, Angie yelled, "Look, an airplane!"

That got his attention for a just a moment -- and that was all Angie needed.

Given LJ's lack of cooperation, it is testament to Angie's photography skills that she got such an adorable picture ... and it's a good thing you couldn't actually see the expression on his face.


http://angiebrementphotography.com/

Hero to Zero?

When I picked Julianna up from art class today, the first thing she said to me was, "Mom, I told Ms. Erin the bad news." (Erin is her art teacher).

"Really?" I said. "What's the bad news?"

"Michael Phillips used mara-lana." (Translation: Michael Phelps used marijuana).

Not exactly what I expected her to say.

But to give some background ... on the way to school this morning, we were talking about the bad decisions some athletes make. Some of the names that came up were Alex Rodriguez (steroids), Barry Bonds (steroids), and Michael Phelps (pot).

The conversation prompted some pretty big questions, but with my kids, that comes with the territory.

Julianna and LJ asked questions about the what, when, where, why and how of Phelps' lapse in judgment. And we also talked about the three-month suspension handed down by USA Swimming.

I asked the kids if they thought it was a fair penalty.

Julianna: "Yes. Because he didn't think before he did it."

LJ: "No. It's not fair because A-Rod used steroids and didn't get punished at all."

Interesting point.

I didn't want to get into all the details of how, when A-Rod was using steroids, they were illegal in the U.S. but not in baseball. And I didn't want to delve into the finer points of recreational drugs vs. performance enhancers.

But I did tell the kids that this wasn't the first time Phelps had blundered. I told them about how he also "made a mistake" back in 2004 and was arrested for DUI.

That new piece of information changed LJ's perspective on Phelps' most recent offense.

"If you use an excuse more than once, it's not a mistake," said LJ.

That is some serious insight from a a second grader. Falls under the "fool me once" category.

I am hoping that in the near future, I can flip that logic on LJ and throw it right back at him.

In the end, both LJ and Julianna admitted to being "bummed" by Phelps' behavior. While everyone is entitled to make mistakes, it's disappointing when the person is a very public figure who is respected by so many young kids.

Fortunately, I can always count on LJ to put everything in perspective.

To him, Phelps' failures out of the pool don't tarnish a single one of the 14 Olympic gold medals he has earned. In LJ's opinion, Phelps just has a little trouble respecting authority.

"You know, Mom," LJ said. "Michael Phelps may be good at swimming, but he is NOT good at following the law!"

In One Ear and Out the Other

As Julianna was getting ready for her shower a few nights ago, I repeatedly told her that she needed to make sure to wash her hair. But not once did she acknowledge me ... it didn't even seem like she had heard me. Finally, I said: "Julianna, did you hear what I said? Please answer me!"

Without glancing at me, she said: "Yes, I heard you. You said 'blah blah blah.'"

If nothing else, she gets credit for honesty.

It's a frustration all parents share. It often seems that the things we say to our children go in one ear and out the other.

When Julianna said that, I immediately thought about the classic Gary Larson Farside cartoon depicting the dog who only hears her own name ... the rest sounds like "blah blah blah."

As much as it pains me to admit it, this is probably what I sound like most of the time to LJ and Julianna (and perhaps my husband too).

The kids hear words like ice cream ... Pokemon ... and allowance.

Everything else is filtered as "x-rated" content ... particularly phrases like clean up your mess ... time for homework ... and eat your vegetables (at least in Julianna's case).

Incredibly, it seems more often than not that I get that blank stare from LJ and Julianna. The one that says, "the lights are on but nobody's home."

With that in mind, I decided to conduct yet another very, very unscientific experiment.

I began counting the number of times I had to repeat myself to the kids.

Word to the wise: do not try this at home. It is downright depressing.

Between pickup from school yesterday (4:30 p.m.) and bedtime last night (8 p.m.), the following occurred:

• I repeated instructions to Julianna 14 times in 3 1/2 hours.
  
  
• I repeated instructions to LJ 12 times in 2 1/2 hours. (Note: he was in basketball practice for one hour).

That means, on average, I am repeating myself once every 13.8 minutes.

Which translates to approximately 56 times in the 13 hours my kids are awake each day.

Equating to 395 times per week.

Totaling a whopping 20,540 nags in the span of one year.

Taking those staggering numbers into account, perhaps it's not so bad when Julianna claims that all she hears me say is "blah blah blah."

At least I know she is listening.

Mind Your Manners

There was just one letter in the mailbox yesterday, and oddly enough, it was from the National League of Junior Cotillions. If you are not familiar with the organization, it is a group that teaches children how not to behave like mine.

My children aren't exactly heathens. It's just that they don't know a charger from soup bowl, a cha cha from a fox trot, or whether belching in public is rude ... or a compliment to the chef.

The mail we received included invitations for LJ and Julianna to attend cotillion classes -- at a price of $130 per child.

According to the literature, Julianna would "leave the program with the beginnings of confidence and poise that come from knowing the proper things to do."

I assume it would not qualify as "proper" that my daughter likes to say: "Mommy, I just pooted! Did you hear it?"

The invitation also promised to offer LJ instruction "in the areas of introductions, sports manners and basic table manners ... and students will learn dining in a nice restaurant -- complete with reservation, maitre d', menus and tipping."

Seriously? Does my 8-year-old really need to know how to pay the bill and tip the cashier at Chick-fil-a?

It's actually ironic that we just received this invitation, because the very topic of etiquette classes came up just a few weeks ago.

In one of my less-than-stellar parenting moments, I used etiquette classes as a threat. As in, "If you don't start being more polite to me and other adults, you will go to manners camp this summer."

It is another one of those hollow threats that I am not prepared to follow through with, but I'll be damned if it doesn't work. Since I started threatening both LJ and Julianna with manners camp, I have never heard so many pleases, thank yous, and I'm sorrys.

After receiving the invitation today, I decided to see if the National League of Junior Cotillions has a Web site. In fact, I wondered if it is even proper to have a Web site.

Apparently, it is.

Most of the site is filled with information on classes and schedules, but it also includes such juicy tidbits as: "The proper way to introduce a younger person to an older person is to remember that a young person is always introduced to the older person, unless the younger person is more important."

That infers that LJ's method of hiding behind my legs and ignoring the older person is not correct.

It also mentions that: "As a courtesy to your host, never add salt or pepper until you have tasted the food. If you need some, use it sparingly. Make it a rule to never ask for a special sauce to place on the meat."

That also implies that Julianna is exhibiting poor etiquette when she announces at a friend's house: "Can I have something else? I don't like ANY of this food -- it tastes bad."

Although I know that LJ and Julianna could stand some fine tuning in the manners department, I decided -- while browsing the National League of Junior Cotillions Web site -- that their organization was not, in fact, the way to improve my kids' habits.

On the site is a list of "10 Best Mannered People." Among those featured are:

Mark McGwire, baseball player -- alleged steroid abuser
Martha Stewart, entertaining diva -- served five-month prison sentence for lying to the government
Mel Gibson, actor -- arrested on suspicion of drunk driving, and then went on anti-Semitic tirade
Jennifer Capriati, tennis player -- arrested for marijuana possession
Whitney Houston, singer -- arrested for marijuana possession

LJ and Julianna aren't perfect ... especially when it comes to etiquette. But if those are the kinds of role models my kids will learn about with $260 worth of cotillion classes, I think I'm better off spending my money elsewhere ...

Even if they do miss out on learning "the proper way to squeeze a lemon slice and a lemon wedge."