It's no secret.

A friend of mine recently posted something on Facebook which got me going emotionally, about how increasingly impossible it is to keep the media (and the entertainment industry) from "sexing up" the minds of our children at an increasingly younger age.

My thoughts turned to our very recent family trip to Hamilton Place Mall; specifically, an incident which involved a pass by the local Victoria's Secret shop, whose "halls" were "decked" with what I can only describe as a disturbing mix of pink puppy cuteness and virtual pornography, two stories high. My kids started asking questions. I decided I needed to say something, whether my words will ever be considered by executives or no. My email follows:


I felt compelled to inform you that after years of enjoying your products, I have made the decision not to patronize Victoria's Secret anymore. My choice was largely influenced by the declining quality of product. Bras and panties I have purchased from your company have come unraveled after several washes, and I am disappointed in your methods of assembly, which obviously involve more glue than stitching. I have had to throw out several bras made by Victoria's Secret because they actually hurt to wear them; the adhesive used to put them together is considerably abrasive to skin. Lingerie I have purchased elsewhere (at MUCH more reasonable prices) has lasted me twice as long as your product. My second motivation for terminating my patronage is more personal and involves a recent conversation I was forced to have with my three-year-old after a trip to see Santa at our local mall incorporated a pass by a giant VS display. First drawn in by pink polka-dotted puppy dogs, she quickly noticed the cinema-screen sized displays of oiled-up models in jingle-bell thongs and garter belts. I understand that your primary objective is to sell lingerie, which is, by its nature, sexy. However, using TOYS as advertising material is little more than a thinly veiled ploy to lure younger and younger patrons. I am not surprised to see girls as young as twelve sporting pants at school with "PINK" printed across the buttocks. I cannot raise my daughter to accept that this is ok, so I will begin by attempting to be a better example to her. I will no longer patronize your company. I would encourage you to consider alternate forms of advertising as well as higher standards of manufacture.

Sincerely,
Amanda Medlin

Spiders.

Connor's journal entries

I've had multiple family requests for Connor's "blog" (his illustrated journal) to be posted here. So here you go, two fresh entries! The latter, on volcanoes, was composed just today.





We learned about two kinds of lava, one called "Pahoehoe" and another called "aa." Connor cracked up. He's been saying "aa" all day. He was fairly amused that the Romans had separate gods for everything. I think he found the concept rather excessive. I happened to have a miniature statue of Vulcan from the Birmingham attraction. Connor laughed at his bare butt. Apparently, volcanoes and Roman gods are hilarious. They really are.

Homeschool cool

Some good stuff about Connor:

• "Pre-homeschool" is going great. We have signed up with an online program called time4learning.com, which offers a fantastic curriculum of basic subjects (math, science, language arts, and something they refer to as "language arts extension," which is basically everything else, with loose connections to reading and grammar.). Connor spends literally hours on it if I allow him to. I've even had to cut him off and tell him no when he asks to do it on Sat. and Sun. I love how organized the whole thing is; it tracks his lessons, logs the time he spends on each subject, records his quiz scores, and even takes attendance. He's pretty much self-propelled on the whole thing, although I require that he check with me before he moves on to a new lesson, and he's not allowed to take a quiz without me there. He has access to three levels, essentially. His determined grade level (right now it's 2nd grade), the one below and the one above. I can "promote" him whenever I feel he's ready. I'd like to move him up in Language Arts, but I'm not going to do that until he's more confident with his math.

• The past few days (really since we started the online curriculum) have yielded fewer tantrums, fewer wetting accidents, and better concentration at school. I won't say we're a perfect score. I won't even say it's a permanent improvement. I will say that he's trying. We had a long chat last week after a particularly hard day and he revealed to me how frustrated he was with school. He's basically been enduring the same curriculum (with minor adjustments at each level) for the past three years. He's had it. "Mom, I want to be learning about volcanoes and amphibians and weather and stuff," he said. Knowing he'd probably develop this opinion was my main objection to having him repeat pre-k. So we went in search of a happy compromise. It looks like we may have found it. I am seeing improvements in his concentration (he's been dutifully working away at a complex paint-by-numbers project I gave him over the weekend) and task-completion efforts (preschool take-home papers have all come home finished so far this week! And today at home he wrote his first "essay" on tornadoes!).

We have a long journey ahead of us still. I'm aware of that. But I am encouraged. Further testing is scheduled, and maybe that'll give us an even deeper understanding. More to come.

Now I need to get busy blogging about Miss Mimi the Magnificent! What's she up to these days? Among other things, she's my model for my "line" of boutique hairbows. I'm going to see if these things sell, and maybe I'll start a second blog, just for boutique nonsense! Oh now I'm just getting crazy.

B is for Badditude

It's been a trying day in the Medlin household. Our oldest lives for show-and-tell day. His class is working its way thru the alphabet one week at a time and this week it's "B." Bring something to class on Thursday that starts with the letter B. Connor informed me on Thursday of LAST WEEK that he was going to bring Boba Fett from his Star Wars collection. I mean he was excited. Last night I made sure Mr. Fett was sitting on our kitchen table, waiting for his ride to preschool stardom. This morning, he wasn't there. I don't know what happened in the hours between, but I'm pretty sure the story involves a young man who was so bloomin' excited to bring Boba Fett on B day, he couldn't help but carry him around a little more before bedtime. At this point, we were more than a little late for school; I offered him several alternatives which only made him wail a little louder each time. We went to school empty-handed. A very sad day.

Apparently, frustration continued to follow my child after I dropped him off, because upon my return I was informed that he'd refused to participate in show-and-tell at all. Fine. Kinda saw that coming. Then at clean-up time, he'd thrown a pair of scissors and narrowly missed a classmate. Whoa. He'd been angry because he was told it was time to clean up. If this had been the first time he's exhibited behavior like this, I'd have been irritated but consolable. It's not, though. This isn't even the first time this week he's exhibited behavior like this. It's not the second time this week. In fact, this is the third tantrum that's been reported to me by a teacher of his since Sunday. Yesterday he threw a chair instead of scissors.

Just two weeks ago, as the school year began, I worried. I worried as I dropped him off in his preschool classroom, that I was doing him a terrible disservice by retaining him in pre-k while the rest of his peers of comparable age go off to Kindergarten. Academically, he is functioning several grades ahead of where he should be. Why would I want to widen that gap even further by waiting another year to put him in elementary school? Steve and I had a very meaningful and detailed meeting last winter with his teachers to discuss the best plan for him in the coming school year, and at the time, we decided he'd best benefit from another year of maturation before "big kid school" began. We opted to place him back in preschool, knowing we'd meet with a certain level of controversy from some well-meaning friends and family members. We heard "Well, it's obvious he's just bored in school. He's not being challenged enough; there's the boy's problem!" Some of what I saw reflected that, granted, but was it the only problem? And entire summer has passed. he's since had a birthday. Steve and I saw a bit of improvement, fewer tantrums, better cooperation at bedtimes...baby steps, but improvement. Then school started back. Suddenly we found ourselves back at Square One. He's back to the same antics of lashing out when he's angry, digging his heels in at bedtime, and screaming at us. All summer long, he picked out his own clothes and dressed himself in the mornings and at night. Now I pretty much have to sit on him to get him to do it. He can't even remember to stay seated and finish a meal. The words "attention deficit" have flashed in my mind, but I refuse to entertain that. Not at this point.

Still, a five-year-old should have a better hold on his impulses than he does. He only participates in class activities when he's in the mood, he hardly ever completes an assignment, and he has a terrible time transitioning from one activity to the next...There's such a gap between his intellectual acuity and his emotional maturity, it's hindering his ability to function, both at home and at school, and even at church. He's now the oldest in his class and yet he remains the most immature. Two weeks later, my worry swings in the opposite direction: will a year be enough to cultivate self-discipline in him?

Kick me in the pants

Geez.

I am not worthy to call myself a blogger. What has happened to my drive to write drivel? By now my readers must be starved for a bit of my wit and wisdom. How torturous. I can only imagine.

Ok, really.


Let's start simply. My babies are growing up. I don't like it. Case in point:

2007

2010

I will never again photo both my dumplings on this wall. It's their last year at preschool together. Kindergarten next fall or bust. I mean that. Yipes.

I submit Item Two for your consideration:

BEFORE:

AFTER:

The nerve of my baby. For the first time since beginning our parenting journey in May 2005, there are no cribs in use at the Medlin house. Mia's now lies in forlorn pieces, ready to be stored in the garage. Connor's now belongs to this guy:



Who is that guy? He's Teagan, the new Medlin grandbaby. Shame on him for being so cuddly and warm and small and adorable. But don't try and pull anything over on him. He may be the new guy, but he wasn't born yesterday. He was born the day before that.

Disney vacation memories

Disney vacation vids completed! Six chapters for your utter enjoyment. Feast on!