Amy's Blog : Parenthood

Glorious Fall

Amy Unger — Wed, 11 Nov 2009 17:55:00 GMT

Just a tip: if you ask to see a picture of Steven, the Most Photographed Kid in the World, I will oblige. I'm a mom, after all. This one is for forum member Daddy Dee, who so innocently asked to see the full version of the picture in my masthead.

Taken one year ago last week, it's hard to believe how much he's changed from then -- academically and physically. Just last night, he was playing "teacher," having me sit in the "classroom" and recite my numbers, 1 to 100. When I inadvertently slowed down, he picked up the counting with me for a bit, followed by, "Good, keep going, you're doing great." When I got to 70 or so, he chimed in with, "This is the challenging part; don't give up." And he couldn't have been more serious.

Little kids are awesome. It makes the new, ultra-whiney version of the word "NO" he's picked up lately a teeny bit more tolerable.

The Re-creation

Amy Unger — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 18:07:00 GMT

My brother and I, Halloween 1974. Our offspring, Yesterday 2009.

The only thing I have to say about the recent picture is -- do you have any idea how hard it is to find a pumpkin one week after Halloween?

You've Gotta Get One Of These

Amy Unger — Mon, 12 Oct 2009 19:16:00 GMT

Saturday was a beautiful fall day in Central Indiana, and we spent every minute of it outside at my stepdad's wooded lake property just south of Rockville, Indiana. The famous Covered Bridge Festival was going on at the same time, but we didn't get that far ...we were having way too much fun riding in grandpa's ARGO:

Not only does it go over virtually any terrain at a sometimes alarming speed, it also turns into a boat with no effort at all. Steven was in heaven, evidenced by the perma-smile. But what would you expect from being able to ride in such style to sites like this:

To do things like this:

Along paths like this:

Although the views were spectacular, I will always remember the day like this:

The Speed of Fun

Amy Unger — Fri, 25 Sep 2009 18:20:00 GMT

Everyone should have a Monster Trike.

39 Years of Monday Night Football ... and me

Amy Unger — Mon, 21 Sep 2009 15:00:00 GMT

39 years ago tonight, Monday Night Football was born, weaving itself into the fabric of Americana like no other weekly sports broadcast before or since. The Browns defeated the Jets back then, clinching the victory by intercepting Broadway Joe in the 4th quarter for a touchdown. It must have been quite a game.

My mom remembers that date clearly - not because it was a great game, but rather because she was in labor with me most of the day. They didn't let fathers into the delivery room back then, so dad had the luxury of watching that first broadcast in the waiting room of Methodist Hospital. He must have whispered to me earlier how important the game was, considering he was a rabid Cleveland fan, because I was courteous enough not to make my appearance until the very moment the game ended, around 11:30 that night.

And what do you think my dad said to my mom when rushing into the delivery room to meet his first and only daughter....the first girl, in fact, to be born in his family since his own mother during World War I?

"The Browns won, THE BROWNS WON!!!"

My dad. Quite the sentimentalist. But I always loved hearing that story. And hear about it, I have.

So this year my birthday once again falls on Monday Night Football. The Colts play the Fins tonight, which is appropriate since my dad had long shifted loyalty to our local team. I will tune in tonight, and I will root for our Colts just as he would have.

And if some life changing event happens to occur as the final seconds tick away, I'll do my best to remember what is truly important.

Thanks Mom and Dad, for bringing me into the world. There just aren't any better parents.

Plenty of Time to Practice with Scissors

Amy Unger — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 17:21:00 GMT

Steven has made 5 trips around the sun today. That long, long (long) day half a decade ago seems like a distant dream and yesterday all at once.

You may remember that Steven was denied entry to the public school due to some kind of scissor-scandal, but, as someone wise always says, things will work out for the best. And they have. He adores his new Montessori school, where everyone is treated like the individual they are.

Today the birthday-boy got to walk around a small, round candle while holding a globe, with the other children sitting around his "orbit" singing about Steven's 5 trips around the sun. He was a litte embarrassed, but loved being the center of attention.

Instead of treats, the school encourages the birthday-kid to bring a book for the teacher read, which is then donated to the school. We chose Library Lion, and although a bit long, the kids managed to pay close attention until the end. This speaks highly of the book itself (not to mention the school), and I recommend it to anyone with young children.

Of course, parents were invited to the festivities. I only took a couple hundred pictures in the span of 15 minutes.

Happy Birthday, Kiddo!

Spokesmodel

Amy Unger — Thu, 30 Jul 2009 18:15:00 GMT

Impromptu cell phone pic taken at the local McDonald's. I can almost recall when ice cream gave me so much joy. I think it was last week.

Scissors and August Birthdays

Amy Unger — Fri, 24 Jul 2009 17:40:00 GMT

My latest parenting quandary, as the mom of a summer baby, has been the age-old "to kindergarten...or not to kindergarten." Back in April I made a command decision, with help from daycare providers, grandparents and teacher-friends, that Steven was ready. He won't turn 5 until August 31, but what the hey - I didn't turn 5 until September of my kindergarten year. I realize the trend is to "red-shirt" our youth, giving them a leg up socially, academically, and athletically, but at nearly 4 feet tall, "Lurch" already towers over most first graders. He is also starting to read, does simple addition, and makes friends easier than I do at age 38.

So I confidently took him to his early enrollment interview, which is necessary in our school district when kids don't meet the July cut-off. I was not privy to the interview, which lasted about an hour. When the teacher brought him out, she flippantly said "We'll let you know," with no feedback at all as to how he did. So I asked, "How did he do?" The answer amazed me: "He needs to practice more with scissors."

Really? Scissors? Ok, but how did he do? I never got an answer.

He was denied via canned letter this past week, again with no explanation, and I felt like he had been rejected by Harvard. Or NASA. I wonder if he just sat there and picked his nose for the entire hour of the interview.

Of course he has no idea what is going on, and I don't plan on explaining it to him. Instead, I have chosen to send him to what promises to be an excellent kindergarten program at local Montessori school. When I drive by the public school now, I simply stick out my tongue. I'm such a good role model.

It will remain to be seen if he is accepted as a first grader next year at the public school, but if he must repeat kindergarten, I can accept that. He'll probably go on to be class president and the star of the football team. But the summer after his junior year, when he is whining about having to go to school for one more year, I will be certain to let him know he would have graduated by now IF HE HAD ONLY PRACTICED MORE WITH SCISSORS.

Still a Little Young for In-Ear Headphones

Amy Unger — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 02:39:00 GMT

Since I'm on vacation this week, you're stuck with photos from home. This is one of Steven singing loudly along with the "Hot Dog" song from Mickey Mouse Club. And no, I did not set this up. He manages these weird poses all by himself.

Overcoming Fear

Amy Unger — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 18:28:00 GMT

If you have traveled through Hamilton Co. Indiana this month, you have likely seen a big orange and yellow mass in the sky. This semi-permanent fixture (through Halloween, anyway) is the latest attraction at one of my favorite places - Conner Prairie Settlement. Every time we drive by the circa 1859 hot air balloon, which is often, Steven shrieks about how much he wants to go up in it. Because he has become rather cautious in his old age, I could only figure that he wanted to take this risk because either (A) it is yellow, (B) he has no idea how high it goes, or (C) we just saw the movie "Up" and he thinks the experience will be like a Pixar movie.

But regardless of why, I was certain he wouldn't actually do it. So the weekend before last I called his bluff. He marched into the park with me, walked up to the balloon-ride ticket booth, gazed up at the enormous contraption, and with no fanfare or ruckus quickly turned around and said "I changed my mind, mommy."

No worries, we're Prairie geeks members, so I wasn't out any cash. I thought maybe we'd try again later. Sure enough, last Sunday he announced he was going to "really do it this time." We marched right back into the park, walked up to that ticket booth, and this time made it all the way into an odd, donut-looking metal balloon basket. I was trying to be nonchalant to keep from spooking him, even though frankly - being a balloon first-timer - I was a bit scared as well.

As soon as the balloonist latched the gate and announced it was time, I realized Steven was no longer at my side. I turned to find him swiftly marching right back to the exit door without one word to me. I managed to persuade him back, then sat him down on the floor so he couldn't see out (the basket wall was a solid three feet up before you could see over the edge through netting). The balloonist announced that it was going to be a bit bumpy for a few seconds, then I heard a loud, yet little, voice coming up from the floor saying, "I don't want to go up!!", which drew several uncomfortable chuckles from the other passengers. So I sat next to him and told him it would be fine.

Once we got over the first few bumps, it was a smooth and fast ride up 400 feet. You can see Steven's furrowed and worried brow during our ascent:

At full height, we finally convinced him to stand up and look around. And let me tell you, he was a changed little boy after he saw how everything looked like a miniture version of itself. It was a wonderous land of matchbox cars! He gleefully exclaimed he could see our house, and "grandma's house!," and "grandma's car!" - which of course we couldn't, but it was fun for him anyway.

It wasn't long before he was poking his head through the basket of the balloon. I'd say his fear had subsided.

When we finally touched down, the first thing he said as we walked away was "I wanna do that again!"

Sometimes all it takes is for someone to sit next to you and tell you everything will be all right. Along with no other choice.

The Ultimate Water Cooler

Amy Unger — Mon, 18 May 2009 23:40:00 GMT

Today was a freakishly busy day...so much so that I just realized I didn't post my daily photo. And it's almost 8 pm. As my brother would've said years ago, "Smooth move, ex-lax!" So here I am at home, having just finished mowing my yard into bales of hay, determined to post something before days end. So you must settle with something I have on my home computer. Which 99 out of 100 are going to be, yes, the most photographed kid in the universe.

Last Friday evening, we made a pit stop on the way home to a nearby artesian well at Flowing Well Park, Carmel, Indiana - my hometown. I remember going to the same well with my dad back when I was about Steven's age, and the town was a mere a speck on the map. The outing was always a big to-do...gathering up as many empty milk jugs as we could find and filling them all one by one in the strange spicket that came out of run-down concrete wall.

They did quite a bit of remodling in the early 80s, transforming it into a cute little park complete with picnic area and walking trails. People come from all over to get their share of the continuously flowing delicious water. I even saw a woman there recently with a Flat Stanley taking some landmark photos with the cartoon cutout, which I find endlessly amusing.

Steven loves stopping by there, much like I used to. We encountered his first snake while walking the paths - a treat for him, but certainly something I could've done without - threw some rocks in the creek, and got bit by a few skeeters. Just another little detour off the rush hour highway.

Open Your Eyes

Amy Unger — Mon, 11 May 2009 15:38:00 GMT

Yesterday we were lucky enough to spot what I later discovered to be a circumhorizontal arc, which lasted for all of 5 minutes. It felt like a gift from Mother Nature herself on a day just for mothers. This is not my photo (can you believe I was without my camera for one second), but close to what we saw:

As we stood watching it from the parking lot of the park, people were coming and going in all directions around us - unaware of what was going on in front of them. I wanted to shout, "Hey, obliviots! Stop moving and look up for crying out loud!" But I refrained.

Maybe I should have yelled. Maybe some people need to be snapped out of their tunnel vision haze in this age of technology. I've literally seen people on their laptops with Bluetooth in their ear and web cams affixed to their monitors while their kids are learning sports on Saturdays. It makes me very curious to know what is so important that they can't leave home without being "hooked up" when they probably haven't seen their kids all week. Are they cracking a terrorist plot on Twitter? Are they on the verge of the cure for swine-flu on WebMD? Are they rescuing orphans in Somalia via their Facebook page? I'm so tempted to loom over their shoulders to see what it could possibly be.

Technology is supposed to make our lives easier, but more and more it seems to get in the way.

And it's not that I'm a helicopter parent, hovering over Steven to make sure all his needs are met. That is equally annoying. But I do take time to show him the world around us, whether it's a couple hundred ants building a nest, a twig floating downstream, or strange colors in the wispy clouds. Things that just aren't the same on YouTube.

3D

Amy Unger — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 19:32:00 GMT

It isn't very often I see a movie on opening weekend, but with the early spring snow putting a damper on outdoor activities yesterday, we decided to check out the only kid-friendly movie playing - Monsters vs. Aliens.

The ticket price was an alarming $11 a pop (unless you count Steven saving me a whopping 50 cents for his "child" status, which I don't), but I have to admit the experience was worth it. I was amazed by the 3D effects, keeping in mind it was 26 years ago when I saw my first and only 3D movie - Jaws 3. The shark crashing through the glass suddenly seemed way more lame, and the new plastic Buddy Holly 3D glasses are a vast improvement over the flimsy paper predecessor. The movie itself was very entertaining as well, especially Stephen Colbert's work as the President and Keifer Sutherland revisiting his A Few Good Men persona as General W.R. Monger.

But the best part was watching Steven try to figure out what the whole glasses-thing was all about. He couldn't understand why he had to wear them all the time to see a movie. After doing some on/off comparisons, he finally caught on. Unfortunately, I think he expected the rest of life to look as cool through the glasses. But how do you explain to a 4 year old that the world is already in 3D?

What was your first Heritage experience?

Amy Unger — Fri, 23 Jan 2009 18:05:00 GMT

I'm home today with a sick kid, and although he's doing much better, I can't really say the same for myself. Nothing like spending the entire night cleaning up after an hourly "cookie-toss." And I mean hourly. From 10pm to 7am. I didn't realize someone so little could have so much in them available for disposal.

Anyway, enough grossness. I was looking through my home computer files to see what I could post for my daily photo, and came across this shot, taken during Pilgrimage '05. It's safe to say this is Steven's first Heritage experience, with hopefully many more to come.

See how happy he looks? His mouth is wide open in awe. That's what I'll be telling him, anyway.

Cold Snap Hysteria

Amy Unger — Thu, 15 Jan 2009 15:44:00 GMT

It's currently -6 degrees outside my window, having dropped almost 30 degrees since last night. I can't complain though -- I'm snug as a bug, and obviously very lucky in the grand scheme. But I will complain later when I'm making the trek to my car with the sound of ridiculously dry snow crunching under my footsteps.

I don't know what the correlation is between getting older and worrying about the weather. When I was a kid, my brother and I never stayed inside due to the weather, unless there was a tornado in our backyard. And sometimes not even then. Mom just shooed us out, and we gladly went, oblivious of the elements. Do we get softer with age, or have we become an over-protective culture of coddling caregivers in general? Probably a bit of both.

I snapped out of my weather-worry last night when I considered stopping at the store for bread and milk with the other crazies. I realized how ridiculous that was, went straight home, bundled Steven up until he looked like the kid brother from Christmas Story, and sent him outside to shovel the front porch with a dust pan. And he loved every minute of it.

I will keep him in tonight, though, since we're looking at a low of -9. But I still refuse to make a special trip for milk and bread.