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It's been raining here all week and (partly because of that, partly because family troubles have left me exhausted), I've been letting the kids watch some TV-- normally, I have a No Screen Time policy. Even when allowed to watch TV, some of the kids preferred

and jumping on the mini-trampoline I just bought.

I hate that slack-jawed, glazed, drugged look small children get when they watch TV. Normally, when it rains, we make things or play cards or dress-up
or cook or if there are enough kids over, play hide and seek or sardines or make things with Sculpy or play boardgames .....(another time I will post about these activities: back to the point).

But this week, we watched TV. And maybe because of Meghan's post, maybe because I'm dieting (and you know what THAT makes you think about!), I noticed what the kids on the shows and in the ads were eating. With the exception of the shakes Ricky serves on Hannah Montanna, it was always fast food -- and one episode of I Carly was about her brother making "spaghetti tacos." Another show's plot revolved around kids pretending to be on a ping pong team so they could spend the club money going out to a fancy restaurant -- and what food was dwelt on and lovingly photographed? The cake they had for dessert--one kid was so stuffed he couldn't eat it, so a friend held his mouth open and massaged his jaws so he would chew. The show also showed them grunting with pleasure while they stuffed themselves.

Is it just this week? Was I super-aware of it because of Meghan's post and my diet? Or is this happening all the time? Maybe the BEST way to help kids lose weight would be to show the cool teenagers eating vegetables.

Some of the kids I babysit eat a lot of junk food, none are overweight--but they lead pretty idyllic lives. Some live on a street with other kids their age; they all play outside together after school, every day. Others spend most of the day playing outside on estates like this:

For Adam's birthday, he has a party and all that but he and I always have our own celebration, too, and we always do the same thing. We go to the beach -- always, East Beach on Watch Hill (picture to come). The waves are huge and we swim. Then, we have dinner -- always, at the same restaurant. Dinner always ends with icecream, and then (it is his birthday after all) we walk to The Candy Shack, a store that sells nothing but, as Adam put it when he was six, "pure candy."

Adam begins Middle School at the end of August, and is looking forward to "more freedom." At his current school, "the teachers watch us every second."
"What if you have to go to the bathroom?"
"Someone stands in the hallway and watches us."

He also complained about reading. They "make us" read, and "don't let us" choose the books -- instead, they assign them. He said he was glad that they hadn't had to finish the book that was assigned at the end of May (because school ended). I asked him what he had read this year, and he said,
"I can't remember. I hated all of it. I only remember books I like."
Pressed, he said that there was a lot of fantasy. He "hates" fantasy.

I asked if he had ever read a book he enjoyed, and he said he was reading one now, a "non-fiction" book called ELEVEN. It's about a boy who lives with his grandfather and (while he's looking for presents) finds a newspaper article that someone with his name was kidnapped when he was three. So the boy thinks maybe the person he THINKS is his grandfather kidnapped him, and (helped by a girl in his class) decides to find out.
"This really happened?"
"WEll -- no, but it could have happened."

I said something like "That's fiction -- it's called realistic fiction," and he said that was the kind of book he liked.

I'm not claiming this is a trend or anything -- Adam is unusual in many ways; but lots of times I think all kids now want to read is YA or fantasy, and it's enormously reassuring to me that there are children who like books about things that could have happened -- and that those events are so real to them that they count as non-fiction.

And at the risk of ruining the punchline: if any teachers are reading this, is is true that teachers assign only ONE book? And if it is, couldn't there be a list, with books from different genres on it?

This is doll's food: the sandwiches are broken up chips, the salad is cabbage with the threadlike tops from a bulb of fennel, and the cake is a slice of banana with toothpaste squirted on for frosting. The four-year old brother thought of that one; his sister was I think a little distressed when he straightened out the doll's candy canes for candles.

Maybe you can see it better here:



The refreshments were in preparation for the ball - Fiona (one of the children I babysit) had plotted it all out before I arrived. It was not going to be much fun for Cissette (blond below) since her daughter Alice (lying on floor above) was going to eat all the food and do other naughty things. Before the ball, Alice was well-behaved, because she wanted a new dress. We made Cissette's outfit first: Fiona designed it and I spent most of the afternoon sewing it while the dolls talked:

Fiona loved it and I have to admit, I was rather proud of it, too. It even has two buttons on the back.

There is something about these afternoons that's inspiring. Fiona and Ethan are both really creative, and just hearing what they say and getting in touch with that side of myself is really fun. And I think (do you agree?) that having ANY kind of fun is inspiring. It puts you in a playful state of mind, and when I've really had fun, I'm willing to work/write. When ALL I do is work/write, I don't want to do it. But sometimes the inspiration is more specific: when I told them an incident from my new novel, Fiona smiled and said,
"That sounds like something Alice would do."

The almost-three year old I babysit for used to be a cautious, gentle child. Lately he's taken to games that always involve a bad guy (usually a leaf) getting stomped on by Batman and Catwoman (two dolls that feature the duo at around 8). The other morning, when he was the most boisterous I'd ever seen him, I said, surprised,
"What's gotten into you?"
"ENERGY to play and hit!" he shouted.

I have to admit that there is a part of me that loves this kind of energy (am I a Bad Influence?), though I don't allow hitting. I bet most children's book authors tap into it -- who knows, maybe that's why we write for the age groups we do.

Jake's new favorite book is DON'T LET THE PIGEON DRIVE THE BUS! -- for those who haven't read this, at the beginning of the book the bus-driver asks the young reader to do him a favor: "Don't let the pigeon drive the bus." When he's gone, the pigeon asks (at first)



wheedles, pleads, bargains--and, eventually, has a total temper tantrum, represented by screaming capital letters, flying feathers, and popping eyes. Reviews say that children love to shout NO! YOU CAN'T DRIVE THE BUS! to each request. Jake's eyes light up at the question. At first, when the pigeon asks, Jake is tempted, but doubtful:
"Maybe."
When the pigeon really starts pleading, he says,
"Okay."
And finally -- more and more confidently as the book goes on:
"Yes, you can drive the bus."

We've read most of the sequels now, too, and Jake enjoys quoting all of them, even when he doesn't quite understand the words:
"I've got dreams, you know."
"For Pete's sake!" (he loves that expression)
"I'M NOT SLEEPY!" (this is from DON'T LET THE PIGEON STAY UP LATE -- and Jake at nap time always insists that he's not tired until a few seconds before he falls asleep, just like the pigeon.)

Jake's mother says he's going through a "testosterone surge." She'd read about them; her friends had warned her they would come. But she never believed that her own gentle child who didn't like anything rough and sang the song in FREE TO BE YOU AND ME -- especially the line "It's okay to cry" so often that his father finally said,
"Yes, but it's not required!" and cried when other people were hurt would turn into this high-energy, strong-willed, rock-throwing (not at people, only into the water at the beach -- over and over -- heaving huge boulders) BOY.

I bet girls go through this too -- I'm pretty sure that at almost-three I also would have loved the pigeon and wanted him to drive the bus. But now, although I know that the pigeon absolutely should not be driving the bus, and when I am in charge I don't let Jake do what he shouldn't, there is a part of me that loves the energy that wants to try, so brilliantly captured by this book.

This is from an old diary....I think it makes sense without any explanations, but maybe not. Let me know! That's one of my reasons for posting: how much explanation things need is a big question, always, for me when I write.

February 14
Tonight the kids and I had a Valentine’s Party. We spent all afternoon — or rather, they did — making cards and decorations. I baked a chocolate cake with chocolate icing, and, at their request, decorated it with a “V” (for Valentine’s Day). They said I couldn’t come into the upstairs living-room, where we were to eat on a card table they’d dragged up from downstairs, until they said they were ready. When I went in, they were all wearing their best clothes: the boys had on grey pants, ties, and navy-blue blazers; Rebecca was wearing her new long dress.
Then we went to my closet to choose what I should put on. They all vetoed my first choice — Steven said:
“No, you wore that every day last summer and I’m sick of it.”
Finally Rebecca picked a long white evening dress. When I tried it on, everyone approved:
“Twirl around again, Libby.”
Nathaniel ran downstairs to get me an apron (his idea) so I could finish cooking. Rebecca said,
“Do you feel shy in your dress?”
I nodded, and she said,
“I did too at first but now I don’t.”
They finished “getting set up” while I finished cooking; I heard Benjamin saying,
“Oh, I’m so excited!”
Finally, they were ready and so was the dinner. When I brought it in, all the lights were turned out, candles lit, a fire made; STAR WARS (DA da, dadada DA da) played, over and over. The table had been lovingly set, with little cards and name tags and small piles of candy (I’d given each of them 8 cents to buy it with) by each place. Balloons covered the floor (Benjamin and Steven’s idea — that you shouldn’t be able to take one step without kicking a balloon).
I suggested that we have a toast. Solemnly, everyone filled their glasses and I said:
“Happy Valentine’s Day!”
Everyone clinked glasses all together, carefully, in the middle of the table, very seriously. Then they looked at each other, gave delighted smiles, and said:
“Let’s do it again!”
This time, everyone said, at the same time,
“HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY!”
Their demeanor and conversation were an odd mixture of the formal (imitative of their parents’ Sunday dinners?) and childlike. Clearly, this was a special occasion to them, a time for Party Behavior. Everyone ate very politely. I told them I’d made up a song, which I would sing when I brought in the cake. This, too, was a ceremony: they wanted to be told when it was coming so they could be “ready.” When I said I was coming, they all blew whistle pops simultaneously and shrilly. Then Steven shushed them and I sang the song again.
They liked the song. They all wanted a piece of the “V” on their cake. They commented very politely that the cake was good, only the icing (bittersweet chocolate) “a little too sour.” After the cake, we opened the cards we’d made — Nathaniel had written riddles on all of his, with the answer concealed by a small heart (taped on) that you lifted up.
Then we took the Dixie cups by each plate and threw their contents — confetti they had made by cutting colored paper into tiny pieces — into the air.
I felt like a privileged spy from the adult world, witnessing their fantasy of what a party is. They’d prepared it all so lovingly — the little piles of cards and decorations and confetti (it must have taken them a long time to cut up all that paper) by each plate, the balloons, all the candles, the fire, the music, the very best clothes. It was really one of the nicest parties I’ve ever been to.

(from me now) Happy Valentine's Day to all, especially Benjamin, Nathaniel, Steven and Becca!

I've never been much of a TV watcher -- for me, even as a child, it was a social thing. For long chunks in my childhood, our TV was broken or we just didn't have one and even when we did, I usually watched only with other kids. Our conversation and fooling around was more fun than what we were watching. But now, I watch with Adam and lately, with Anya upstairs, too. She has bought a trainer for my bike, so we can bike inside together. It's really fun -- we ride, we talk, we watch TV. I think we were both somewhat embarrassed by our TV preferences; but after she confessed to hers (it's not for me to out others here!), I told her about Adam's favorite show -- which I also really enjoy.

At first, SUITE LIFE appalled me. In case you haven't seen it: ten-year old twins Zack and Cody live in a hotel owned by London Tilton. Zack and Cody (boys) have long blonde hair and hip clothes -- even their pajamas are cool. Zack is dumb, and always coming on to beautiful teenage/twenty-something girls with cheesy lines, winks, gestures ...this I still find baffling and kind of weird. Does anyone (especially, the kids watching) believe that there is a chance that one of these girls will actually accept Zack's invitations -- invitations to his bedroom once he's in bed (and believe me, he's not asking them to read him a story)? Or is it supposed to be yet another humorous sign of what an idiot Zack is? That's how Cody takes it: he rolls his eyes and makes comments.

Their mother does, too -- in the last episode I saw, Zack and Cody were at a party London was giving (in their LA pajamas and bathrobes) when their mother stormed in and made them go to bed. Zack (typically) invited one of the girls (a teenager--I've never seen a girl their age on the show) to come with him and, as she followed, the mother shoved her back and said angrily:
"Not you!"

Adam watches it all intently. On THIS AMERICAN LIFE, a commentator said HIS son watches as though he was taking notes. I don't know what Adam thinks -- his comments while we watch TV are ususally limited to explaining the characters and situations and backstory to me. I can't tell from his expression, either; but he doesn't laugh at these parts. He does laugh a lot at London ("the only thing she's good at it buying stuff") and at the scenes in which Zack and Cody succeed in tricking their mother.

Adam doesn't even LIKE girls (as you might guess from the dialog with Morgan) has firmly told his father that it's not okay to have a girlfriend until you're twelve (it used to be ten, but now that he's eight himself, he's upped the age limit). If his father tries to talk to him about girls, or even comments on women's looks, Adam says, firmly,
"Daddy! Not until I'm twelve."
I've never seen a girl Zack and Cody's age on the show -- but maybe I've just missed those episodes? I'm not attached enough to the show to pay for the Disney channel!

I'd really like to know what other adults think of Zack and girls! Anya (24) also thinks it's weird and that I should talk to Adam about it, in case he thinks this is how you're supposed to do it.
"I've never heard Misha [her brother whom Adam worships] talk to girls that way."