Facebook

Facebook … really what is it. Many call it a social networking site. And I suppose it does meet that need. I know that I have a chance to connect with more people via Facebook than I do in real life. But it serves another, ulterior motive, at least for me. It satisfies that small town need to know everyone’s business. It’s the virtual peer into the medicine cabinet when you are using the guest bathroom. You get to see everyone’s little posts, their pictures, and tiny snapshots into the lives of people that you may see every day, or haven’t seen in years. It’s like the snoopers dream high school reunion. For instance, on my limited friends list, I have members of the elite Trigg County graduating class of 1987. I wasn’t a member of that group, but on Facebook, I am a “friend.” Who knew it would be so easy to be included. Though, let’s not kid ourselves, I still am unable to engage many of those members in chat when we’re both online. But rather than feel rejection, I snort to myself and figure they haven’t the technological savvy to know how to chat. And then create a mental image of said unresponsive person looking all over the place when they hear that annoying bubble popping sound that emerges when someone sends a chat message. What can I say, not everyone is a clicker on the computer. And there’s something gratifying in looking at everyone’s pictures – seeing their homes, their families, how they’ve changed. And it’s entirely possible to do that without any worry of what they think of how you’ve changed – or how they may be judging you. And since the people that I tend to be judging never respond to chat requests….well live and let live I suppose.
I suppose facebook is sort of like participating in your own virtual reality show – the real housewives of facebook or it’s equivalent. And the little blurbs are like the video diaries that everyone must complete. And it’s interesting to see how everyone deals with the status changes. My nephew pops in and puts up random music lyrics. Makes him seem philosophical somehow – which is redeeming because he doesn’t seem philosophical in person. I use mine to send out one liner comments that I hope are humorous … sort of like random thoughts from SNL. And then there are the few who send out cryptic messages about frustration or gossip without committing to the event at all. And of course, I don’t know them well enough to be in the gossip loop…but now I know enough to ask someone who might know.
And then there’s the friend’s list. Those who have added as friends every person they have ever known, some they don’t, or anyone who makes a friend request. I’m not that person. I only add people that I know, have fond memories of, or want to know more about. And in that, it’s symbolic of my entire existence. I have always been a person who would prefer to lean against the wall and watch without participating. And in facebook, I get to stack the party room so to speak and watch who I want to watch. I used to think that I wanted someone to invite me in to the room to be an active participant, but now, I’m not so sure. I don’t do well in social situations with people. I much prefer to sit with a small group and chatter (though if I were in an egotistical mode, I’d say hold court) – and my slowly increasing friends list portrays that aspect of my personality. But others, they are the party people – hooking up 200 friends in 48 hours – and then chatting briefly with a few – the social equivalent of working the room.
Facebook has definitely opened up the whole concept of texting to my generation. We may not understand or appreciate 10 teenagers sitting next to each other – talking to each other while staring at their phones and texting 20 other people at the same time. But facebook lets us know that if it were 25 years ago, we’d be doing the same thing if the technology were available. And with such games as mafia wars, or Farmville, it even addresses the socialization needs of those nerdy boys who were creating their own realms of dungeon and dragons that followed them from class to class in high school. In fact, I was at a friends house the other night and her husband had a 30 minute conversation with his brother, via telephone, about what he needed to get in terms of money laundering and getting rid of competition. If I were a police officer I might have been concerned… And I am no different, checking onto my page every so often to see if someone has left me a message, to see if anyone is one who I’d like to chat with (and damn those people who stay logged on 24/7 without actually doing anything).
So, I won’t say it’s an addiction. I will say it satisfies many needs. The need to keep in contact without actually having to put forth the effort of a visit or a phone call or an email. It satisfies my biannual nostalgia fest when I feel compelled to try to find people that I once knew and cared about. And it gives me an audience for these little mental notes that I make for myself but share with others (Doogie H. of course apparently being my unknown childhood role model).

Summer Vacations

Summer is really a wierd time of year when you're a school teacher. I remember when I worked at Kinko's - and well everywhere else, and summer was just the hot time of the year. But when you teach, and you don't have to work in the summer, then you sort of enter into this wierd zone of space time. Every day feels like a Saturday, in my case a Saturday when Jose has decided to work overtime. I don't have to flip my alarm clock over because i don't care what time it is. The kids sleep late, giving my all this time in the morning to watch shows I've DVR'd during prime cartoon time, and I have time to sit and read and be lazy. There's no bath time schedule, no homework schedule, no schedule at all.
Though, with Jose gone to El Salvador for two weeks, and Franklin with him, there are all the chores that I have pawned off the last few years - carring laundry down and upstairs, taking out the trash, and I have to wash all the dishes, every time. There's no leaving them in the sink to see if someone else will jump to the task. And like a day when Jose's at work, there is a mad scramble to keep the house slightly less like a tornadic explosion to avoid the grumpy complaints about what did you do all day to have the house be such a mess. I would only wish that summers in Kentucky weren't quite so humid and hot -- because seriously who wants to melt when you open the door.
I sometimes wish that I was the crafty mother who would have the kids do some neat projects -- find a way to create a memory that will last a lifetime. But, if you didn't catch the lazy comment earlier, that's a lot more work than I really want to do. And if I start the day slow and lazy, then I want the whole day to be slow and lazy - hands down, no question about it. But, I think for the boys, summer is still a magical time. There are no cool wooded areas to explore and be imaginative -- but there is time to be silly, to laugh, to go and meet new people and maybe do something different. I know for them there's more time or chances to go to mcdonalds - which I have now decided is my least favorite restaurant of all time -- nothing on their menu that i crave or desire at all....or to go see a movie.
I think the magic of summer is time. Time to spend in each other's company, time to lay in the bed and be lazy, time to laugh, time to cry, whine, bicker and time to get over it. Time to take a nap in the afternoon, to laze by the pool, to read a trashy novel, or a good one, time to conquer a new universe or ancient realm. Having the time to choose or not as you desire -- and having no one to tell you what you must accomplish in that time, being led only by whims and desires. And that is why summer rocks.

The Best Movie Going Experience

I have been perfecting this movie going thing for a while. There are a couple of reasons for my intent focus in this area. The primary reason is that I, personally, really love to go to movies, to watch movies. I would be so happy if they'd make a movie theater with lazy boy style chairs -- or better yet, comfy beds and the movie on the ceiling (have that going on in the boys room) -- though the thought of going to a chick flick and having some couple making out next to me is enough to let me know that it's a bad idea for the general public. For those of you who have taken younger children to the movies, you know that the experience is not quite a joyful as it could be. Not all the kids movies are really that good -- I am not, for example, eagerly anticipating seeing G4 about the hamster things -- but I am looking forward to hearing the boys laugh out loud when they find something funny. But even if it's a bad movie, I would like to have an enjoyable movie experience. I don't want to get up and take anyone to the bathroom. I don't want to have to pass food or drinks during the entire movie. I don't want to be bothered at all once the movie begins. If you don't get me during the previews, expect to get me grumpy and pissy.
In order to faciliate this movie experience, I have developed a few techniques that I will share with you here.

1. Always choose a matinee - preferably a middle of the week day. Today we went to see Night at the Museum and we were the only people in the theater. The advantage here is that when you have a little kid who gets bored - he can run around a section of the theater and won't bother anyone.
2. Stop at the dollar tree, dollar store, any cheap store and buy a few different types of snacks for cheap. Kids never eat all of anything and they prefer a little of many different things.
3. Bring a cup for everyone (ones with lids for the little ones)
4. Bring an extra large plastic bowl or a couple of small plastic bowls.
5. Order the family special - large popcorn and large drink (you get one free refill) -- then during that down time when you are waiting for the previews, give everyone a bowl with popcorn, and a cup with drink (little kids can have cups with lids and straws). If it's not enough to share - then go get the refill at the beginning of the movie instead of the end.
6. Establish the snack chair, that is easily accessible to all - and put the already opened snacks in it. Kids come and graze and return items as needed.
7. During the first preview - force all small children to go to the restroom - for that last minute attempt. By then they'll have had a couple drinks of soda and be able to produce a small stream - enough to hold that bladder for another hour and 30 minutes.
8. Enjoy the movie.

Now, you have to be able to ignore wierd looks from people who don't know why you are travelling into the movie theater with a walmart bag full of plastic ware (candy is of course contraband and hidden safely in the purse). But when you make it through a whole movie with nothing more than normal movie chatter, you will be wondering why you didn't do this before.

I would also recommend allowing your children to sit a row away from you - which is easier to do when the theater is particularly empty. They feel all grown up because they are sitting on their own; and you don't hear them be silly and giggle and feel compelled to shush them. Then when you leave the theater, everyone has enjoyed the movie as much as it can be enjoyed (did I mention the hamster movie - no way I'm going to really enjoy that). And on the way out, if you haven't gotten that popcorn refill, you can get the refill and put it in the walmart bag that you have brought with you - tying off the top to prevent spillage. That popcorn you eat at home later, when you're in bed watching a really good movie (like Live Free and Die Hard or Pride and Prejudice).

Let me know if you try it and how it goes.

I Walk the Line

Franklin Serrano – the Double Edged Sword

My son Franklin (though secretly there are days when I say – that is no son of mine – my son would never do something like that!!) is a double edged sword. Though, I’m pretty sure that it is the wrong terminology – still, I think once you’ll see what I mean. With every forward step that Franklin makes – each step that makes Jose and I breathe a little sigh of relief that things will o.k.; he takes 2 steps backward, all the while figuratively slapping us upside the head in our naiveté and innocent belief.
For example, the same day that he finally decided that he was going to Western and going to be a Spanish teacher, was the exact same day we caught him smoking in the house and discovered that he had been smoking for 2 months. When I see him calling to check out his enrollment information for Western and then brag to Jose; Jose rips the carpet out from under me and informs me that he called and reminded Franklin 3 times that he needed to call today – and thus, my joy at his taking initiative was stolen and buried..
And then on graduation day, we were having a small celebratory event with his friends and Jose’s family. One of his friends asked me to transfer pictures from his phone’s memory card to a flash drive and when I did, I found pictures of prom. And not just any pictures of prom, but pictures that Franklin had taken himself from the front seat – and in the backseat, there were 3 Japanese anime looking girls. Now that might not seem like much, but Franklin and Andrew had both assured us that since neither of them have a full license, only the graduated license that only allows one other person in the car, that there would be no other people in the car. And here I was, on arguably the biggest, most important day of Franklin’s life, and I had caught him in a lie. Sure, I figured that he’d probably done that anyway – but I couldn’t prove it – not being able to prove something lets you pretend it doesn’t happen. And so…. I had proof and me, being me, had to find a way to deal with the proof, and decide upon a time. I spent much of the party fuming a bit…again, not at the event, but at the lie, and then at his own stupidity for taking pictures of himself in a lie.
So we had a talk about it, and I cried – because I’m learning from Franklin that parenting is perhaps one of the most painful tasks that we’ll ever undertake. With my own, I’ve not yet stepped over into the realm of fear and anxiety. There is still mostly hope, pride, joy, and dreams. It is little wonder that with such an auspicious start – coupled with our refusal to let go of those things, the nest leaving (both emotionally and physically) is so difficult. It’s like the magic of childhood is bleakly overshadowed with reality. And the mommy brain, that was activated the instant we gave birth and spent the first 3 years looking at every single component of the world and environment seeing potential hazards has to expand itself beyond a 20 foot radius to encompass an entire town, a virtual reality, a thousand other people who have only their own best interests at heart, not my child’s. And the struggle that Franklin has with Jose and I is nothing compared with the struggle that we have within ourselves to let him go and do that – especially when he still has so many important lessons to learn – and who will be there to teach him.
I am currently walking on a fine line. It’s the I’m there if you need me line; and the feel free to take some risks, but don’t cross this line line. I’m officially at the point of my life where the phrase, “as long as you live in this house, you live by my rules” pops unbidden into my head anytime he wants to do something that just isn’t going to happen. But, I coach most of those responses in terms of social contracts. It’s an issue of common courtesy to let us know if you’re going to be late. Perhaps you don’t have a curfew, but my car does; and it must be in the driveway by 11:00 p.m. And then building in baby steps for both of us. Letting him know that he can have more freedom, but he has to establish our trust in him and demonstrate responsibility.
And even though he looks at us, rolls his eyes, and say we treat him like a girl (apparently in El Salvador girls are caged and protected, boys run free and wild) – I’ve decided that I don’t care. He can hate us, mutter under his breath, and come up with such canny phrases as “how will I ever learn, unless you let me try, or I make mistakes.” He can make all the mistakes he wants when I don’t to watch him do it. That’s the part of parenting bliss that no one tells you about. We all strive to return to the era of hope, dreams, pride and good will. And we are quite willing to suspend disbelief and nod and smile when they tell us all the good things they are doing – ignoring the experiential knowledge that they are getting wasted on a floor with cigarette butts and god knows what else scattered about not 4 hours before they came home for a visit. Parents of college age kids actively ignore the mommy brain, brushing it under the faded keep your grades up carpet. Mostly because we equate decent grades with good living. They couldn’t be passing their classes if they are partying ALL the time. And if a problem arises, it’s very difficulty to step back into the mire. Because by then, truly, parents have no control or power and must sit back and watch – our own lesson to be learned.
That is where I am . . . holding firmly to my mommy brain eraser…but not quite using it yet. Hoping, beyond hope, that there is another way . . . to relinquish control but not contact and communication . . . seeking a way to share my experiences and those of others with him so that he can make informed decisions . . . and dreaming that if he makes a mistake that he learns a valuable lesson and decides to share his experience with us instead of hiding it. I’m pretty sure it can be done . . . I’ll let you know one way or the other.