Parenting | BulgingButtons

November 22, 2013
by BulgingButtons 9 Comments

Bedtime Stories from Hell

I am a child of immigrant parents. German Jews whose own parents took them away to safety before they had any concept of the danger they were in, just by virtue of their birth. They were brought to America, enrolled in school, taught English, and given high expectations for achievement. After all, they were fortunate, they were spared when so many others were not. They were in the land of opportunity, and by gosh they had better take advantage of those opportunities.

When I was small my mother read me bedtime stories every night. There were lots of normal ones, like like The Little Red Hen and If I Ran the Circus, but there were bizarre German ones too. First there were the Brothers Grimm. It has been observed many times before how aptly named they were, as their fairy tales involved the darkest side of human nature, and often involved evil and death. And then there were Max und Moritz and Struwwelpeter. Oh. My. God.

These were really the stuff of nightmares. A stubborn boy starved himself to death. A tailor cut off the thumbs of a boy who sucked them. A girl who played with matches burned to death. Mom? Did you read these? Were you aware of how disturbing these stories are? This is what you put me to bed with! Didn’t you like me?

These are not the stories I shared with my own son. We read The Very Busy Spider and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. He delighted to Jan Brett’s illustrations and Dr. Seuss’s rhymes. The loving families in Patricia Polacco’s books, and the familiarity of Big Red Barn and Good Night Moon sent him off to sleep in a world that was safe and comfortable.

To this day I have many unjustified fears. I think that perhaps my parents’ choice of bedtime literature fostered some of those. I hope that my son lives in a world where he feels safe and secure. A world where a young child can count on stories ending happily ever after, and nobody will cut off your thumbs.

November 21, 2013
by BulgingButtons 5 Comments

Ham and the Art of Parenting

Two days ago in the grocery store, teenage son says, “Oh Mommy, can we get a ham?” Yes, he calls me Mommy. Deal with it. “We have ham in the fridge,” I reply, quite sensibly. “No, not ham, A ham. For the pot luck at school on Friday.”

Oh. A ham. Great. He goes to a school where a lot of the kids are on free and reduced lunch. They will bring items to the potluck, but they won’t bring a ham. I know these kids. They are great kids. I want to feed them, and I have the means to provide a ham. “Fine,” I tell him, “but you have to deal with it.”

I don’t have the first clue about what to do with a ham. I grew up in a semi-kosher household and we never had a ham. I have never purchased a ham. I do buy deli ham, though, and bacon has been in my house on more than one occasion, but a ham? Never.

Now it’s Thursday night, and he reminds me of the ham. “When are we going to cook the ham?” he asks. I’m planning on walking out the door in five minutes to go to a class. My finace, who advised him on the finer points of ham cooking, is out cold feeling ill. Um, we?

So the quandry is, do I go to class (it’s the last meeting, and certainly not for a grade or anything, just for fun) and worry all evening about the ham and the possibility of him burning down the house, or at least drying out the ham, or do I stay home and google ham and it’s preparation? Oh this parenting thing, it just never gets old. Next year I hope he signs up for paper plates.

November 20, 2013
by BulgingButtons 3 Comments

Daily Prompt: Fright Night Take Two

Everything scares me. The television show Fear Factor was beyond my ability to comprehend. I would have been too afraid to do any of the things that those contestants did for the opportunity to win a monetary prize. I cannot imagine the drive for money being greater than the drive for self preservation.

Scary movies send me running for cover, and it’s been years since I’ve read a frightening book. I dislike being afraid. I feel my heart rate increase, my stress level rise, and an inability to think clearly overwhelms me. And people do this for fun? No thank you. In fact, the issue of fear is one that I prefer to avoid all together.

Of all the fears I have, I think the biggest one is that something bad would happen to my son. I am a parent. It’s my responsibility to be afraid for him. Money wouldn’t make me face my fears, but love for my child is a different story. Who knows how any of us will behave in a given situation? People say they know, but I’m not one of those people. I believe that my love for my child would cause me to rise above my fears, but I can’t be certain. Since I can’t be sure, I have to do everything in my power to make sure he is far from danger. Impossible? Yes, but in my opinion a worthy pursuit.

What’s the thing you’re most scared to do? What would it take to get you to do it?