The Day the Reading Died

My brother just posted a news article today about a high school in Missouri that is banning a couple books. The request came from a moral standpoint, but the principal has stated they are being banned because they are not "age appropriate." That is interesting, because both my brother and I were assigned one of the books in high school. Maybe our school was just more mature than this one.

I feel bad for the students of that high school, but I feel worse because I feel like this is another symptom of an ever larger problem. And that is.... the death of the book in America. Mom and Pop book stores were consumed by the big box book sellers, and now even they are a dying breed. Rest in peace, Borders, for you have already succumbed. Now, the argument may be made that the e-book is the cause, but I don't think so. I think it may contribute, because I love me my Nook and my ability to have a new book magi-ppear in an instant, but that isn't the problem. The problem is... the readers of the world are getting old and dying, and our children, our younger generations aren't being taught the love of reading.

Children these days (yes, I sound 80 years old) are not reading. They are not being read to. Their parents are blackberrying, Angry Birding (Hello, my name is Lynn and I was an addict until I beat all the levels), and DVRing Cake Boss (Hello, my name is Lynn and I've never seen this, so I am sorry if it really is worth watching). We used to have fewer options for activities than kids do now. We recorded a few things on our plastic VHS tapes, but if we missed Who's the Boss?, we missed it. We couldn't record that, plus Family Ties, Dallas, and Full House so that the second we got home we could park ourselves in front of the boob tube for the rest of the night. We had our Commodore 64 set up to play Pac Man and Avoid the Noid, but we didn't have hand held rectangles where you could instantly download an app any time of day to avoid boredom. We got bored. We had a swimming pool in the backyard, and we still got bored... and speaking for myself, when I was bored, I read.

I see kids all the time, mine included, with an iPod touch permanently glued to her palm and her library book collecting dust, untouched. We are raising a generation that believes, "gtg, ttyl" is good writing, and their imaginations are as unused as a card catalog.... and yet we ban books that speak to people for fear that they aren't age appropriate?

Tabbi read The Hunger Games series, three long books, in a couple weeks because it spoke to her. She put her phone and her iPod down and she read. She talked about it with passion and excitement in a way that she had never spoken about a book before. Now I realize that it isn't being banned, but still... if a random teenage boy could have that reaction to Slaughterhouse Five (like my high school guy friends did), isn't that reason enough to keep it around? It made them turn off the Xbox and discuss literature, and if that isn't a miracle, I don't know what is.

We are raising a generation of cyber humans. Kids who play cyber guitar, not real ones. Kids who would rather use iPod apps than their imaginations, and we as adults aren't helping. We are letting them, and we are stripping away the books that could one day make them actually want to unplug. Right now, I can say that my little boys love reading, but I can also say that we own no Xbox, Wii, or Nintendos (do those exist anymore?). And, we don't, because I fear the future if we did. I fear for the day my boys crawl onto the couch with a controller, instead of up on my lap with Cat in the Hat, and I fear that on that day I will let them play so that I can watch my DVRed Celebrity Rehab in peace. I get why this is happening, but I also get the tragedy it is causing, as well. Books are dying.... and our kids' imaginations and minds will go right along with them. Rest in peace....

The Fairy Tale

I watched the replay of the USA/Brazil World Cup soccer game that was played on Sunday and I was inspired. Obviously, USA won... so that helps, but it was more than that. This was more than a game, or at least it should be. This was magical.

There are sports movies galore that try to capture the spirit of what these women did for real on Sunday. Well, I should say that there are men's sports movies that depict heroes... titans taking the field of battle. There are women's sports movies about... uh... ice skaters. Truly, I can think of maybe two movies (A League of Their Own and Million Dollar Baby) where the women were more than just sparkly... they were heroes. As I watched the game, I realized that I was witnessing an inspirational moment that movies would kill to recreate. The dirty, sweaty, scrappy women that came back after terrible calls and one player down to win against a formidable opponent. They didn't quit. They didn't cry. They fought, they dug deep, they fell and got back up and made plays so beautiful they made dancing look clumsy.

The game is over, and the moment passed... but tomorrow Team USA advances to play France in the world's most respected sport. Watch it. Make your young girls see this for what it is... this is the stuff real fairy tales are made of. No sitting around waiting for a prince... these women made their fairytale ending by themselves... and attention should be paid.

Out of the Guns of Babes

A tragedy happened in my area last week. An 11 year old boy shot and killed his 6 year old brother while they were home alone. Debates are raging as to whether or not this 11 year old should be tried as an adult, and whether he should have been released from custody to attend his brother's funeral yesterday. It is interesting to read the interwebs and look at the discussions people are having, because one thing is eerily absent.... the same thing that was absent the day this young boy died... the parents.

Hold on... let me climb up onto my soap box. Ahhh... that's better.

I consider the questions I posed last paragraph to be easy ones. 1. Absolutely do not charge this child as an adult. While the crime he committed was very mature... he is not. And, I am sickened by the thought of what this child would endure in a male adult prison facility. I've been in them. It's not pretty. 2. The child should have been allowed to attend the funeral, unless it brought great discomfort to the immediate family. This was not a premeditated act of evil (ahem Casey Anthony), it was a child with a loaded weapon acting on impulse. Punish - yes. Punish in accordance with the goal being the best possible future - absolutely. But here's the thing I still fail to comprehend... if our prosecutor is considering charging the child as an adult for Murder 1... what are the parents going to get?

Man, the view is great from up here....

When you are an adult, you can choose to have a gun for safety, sport, serial killing... whatever. Actually, I don't endorse the third one... but wait... I don't endorse any of them! But in any case, it is your choice. When you have a child in your home, though, that choice ought be to rethought and rethought one hundred times over, picturing every possible scenario that leads to a gun being put in an 11 year old boy's hands. Where was the gun safe (oxymoron)? Did the 11 year old know how to open it, therefore defeating the purpose of having one or did the family just think they could stick it in their underwear drawer and hope for the best? Was it locked? Was it loaded? Was this boy ever taught that death is forever and guns aren't toys? Did the parents ever give it one second of thought before they left a deadly weapon within reach of children? Did they ever consider that between target practice and duck hunting, that maybe they should make sure the gun disappeared when not in use? Would they let the kids throw lit matches at gasoline? Did they juggle steak knives? Were they allowed to hold each other underwater until they stopped kicking? Probably not... but by God they'd let that gun be available at any time.

There are a million things in this world that could take our children from us, and the bulk of them are completely out of our control. Tornadoes, drunk drivers, cancer.... they are all out of our hands. But, guns.... you are potentially putting those in the hands of your children every time you bring them into your homes. And I am left wondering, not about trying the boy as an adult or letting him attend the funeral... I am wondering for the parents who lost one boy forever and another is on his way... was it worth it? Was the idea of safety or sport worth the lives of both of your sons? And for all of the opinionated masses sitting at home with guns either un- or under- secured... is it worth the lives of your children? I bet not.

What a Difference 730 Days Make....

Two years ago, my family and I spent the 4th of July weekend in Kansas City with my brother. You may remember reading the post, or hearing my retelling 400 times, but the visit was not without incident. At Deanna Rose Farmstead (a lovely place to visit, to which I will never return), Will fell off the dock into the fishing pond, and scarred me for life. However, I am proud to say that my return this weekend showed me just how much we've both grown.

This 4th of July, we went back to Kansas City and did all the things there is to do in that fantastic town. Science was done in Science City, dinosaurs were built and watched at T-Rex, and despite my frequent panic attacks, my family attended RiverFest.

Now, I realize that a normal person only fears the great unwashed when attending a fest like this one, but I am far from normal (insert joke here). Instead, I am afraid. I am terrified of Will going anywhere near scary water. My definition of scary water is... any dark, murky water with any sort of current that could sweep my son away to a watery death. So, pools... no problem. There isn't a swimming pool around (except maybe the one in Massachusetts where the lady drowned and the water was so cloudy her body bloated on the bottom for three days before anyone found her) that I can't get my boys out of. I am a strong swimmer and am confident that I can rescue them out of a clear pool, but what about a river? An ocean? A lake where they sink to the depths that we can't dive down to? That thought has kept me up nights when things like cruises, or RiverFests are mentioned in my presence. And this fest was no different.

The drive out to the river made me physically sick. I had barely slept the night before for all the images of my boys falling into the swift current and being swept away. I was nauseous, my heart pounding, my mind racing with panic. But, we went. I repeated 100 times to my family that the boys couldn't go near the river and forced the boys to hold someones hand when they walked through the fest even though the riverbank was 40 feet away. But, I went. I can't say I enjoyed the fest, as I was completely consumed with the single thought of "KEEP THEM AWAY" replaying on a constant loop in my brain... but, I went.

As I sit here, back at home today, and reflect on the weekend... I realize that Will and I have both come a long way since that trip to the bottom of the fishing pond at Deanna Rose Farmstead. He can now paddle along in a deep end (with adult supervision) and has turned into quite the water baby. No fear of water developed for him. And I can now walk along a river walk with my boys and even though I am not yet calm, I can be there. I went. A fear that came into being in Kansas City two years ago, was met in Kansas City again this year, and while I am sure it will stay with me forever... it may have gotten just a little bit smaller this weekend. And that, for me, is a bigger feat than even Will's giant, dynamite cannonball jump.

Meet The Kiddos

There are moms out there who see their children through rose colored glasses. Their child can be at the playground kicking another child and the mom will see nothing but spirited play as opposed to bad behavior. I don't do that. I see my kids for what they are. Nothing better, nothing worse. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for other people, even those whose titles would imply unconditional love. But, since their glasses are apparently poo colored, I thought I would take a moment to introduce them to my kids.

First, let me introduce you to Tabbi. She's the oldest, and while she didn't spring forth from my loins (and at times pushes me to declare no association with her whatsoever), she lives in my home and is treated like my daughter. She is a tween going on 18 and her teenage angst leaves little to be desired. She's moody, sullen at times, and difficult. She wants to be a teenager, dress like one and act like one... and when you say no, she isn't always cooperative. But, here's the secret that even I don't realize sometimes... She is also a really good kid. The scope of her misbehavior is so small in comparison to what it could be, that sometimes I sit back and say "did we really just have that fight about skinny jeans and tight tops?" She is a straight A student, has been for two years now, and she tests off the charts on standardized testing. She is bright, creative, and while she would like the world to think that her little brothers make her crazy... when she thinks no one is looking, she holds Will's hand as they walk to the pond outside my parents' house. And when you least expect it, she offers to help you clean the house (and doesn't even ask to be paid). She is fighting her way through the pubescent nightmare that is a 12 year old girl, and while sometimes it seems otherwise... she is coming out the other side a beautiful young woman, inside and out.

Will is the next in line, and though he is the middle child in our small Brady Bunch, he is not to be missed. He is loud and he is active. He wants nothing more than to be the center of attention (unless it is a school music program... then he wants no part of it), and he has never met a stranger in his life. He wants to be BFFs with the world, and play trucks and run around from sun up to sun down. He is lively, active, maybe even a little wild at times... goofy and nutty and sometimes you just wish he would sit down and couch potato it, just for a few minutes. To sum it up, he's exhausting. But, when you walk through the door (be it me, Uncle Mike, Grandma or a friend of mine he hasn't seen in awhile), you will be met with such excitement that even the worst days can be completely turned around. He is the boy who goes out of his way to befriend a child who is left out of play, even when he sees that the other kids aren't giving him or her the time of day. He will run around in circles, and then pause to crawl in your lap and snuggle so deep into you it's like he never wants to stand up... and then its off to the races again. He's smart, he loves books, and the only thing in the world that he wants (besides trucks) is for you to return the love that he will give to you unconditionally.

And lastly, there's Jack. Jack is a tough one, because most of the time I describe him as evil. He is the child that will see you perching on the edge of your seat, and he'll walk up and push you off. He is stubborn and delights in rough housing, the harder the better, and laughs when someone gets hurt. He will walk up to you and scream "hit hit hit" while punching your leg as hard as he can. And then, he will crawl up into your lap and hug you with the same gusto and squeal loud and clear that he loves you. He is almost 3, and all snakes and snails and puppy dog tails, but at the same time he'll get your attention, smile big and say, "YOU!" like you are the light of his entire life. He is a scruffy, scrappy giant of a boy with so much more to say than his speech delay will let him. He's a scary one, because you never know if it is going to be a body slam or a hug when his arms encircle you, but either way you know that it is with the utmost love and affection... even when it's the body slam.

So, these are my three children that some people think are vile. Tabbi can be quiet and moody, most likely pouting while the boys are shouting. The younger ones run in restaurants and you practically have to pry the iPod out of Tabbi's clenched fist. But, they're mine. And, I love them. And, their family (those who matter most) loves them. And, guess what? We do that unconditionally. Like our titles say we should.

Losing Faith

Despite what most people assume when they meet me, I am a person of great faith and hidden optimism. There are rarely situations where I sit back and assume the worst. Be it the person that I didn't support winning an election or a vote going a way that I didn't prefer, I usually just assume that everything will work itself out. I am believer that our politicians do (for the most part) have this country's best interest at heart, and while I support my opinions with gusto... even if I lose, I assume that everything will be alright in the end. But, after a week of political movement in my home state of Indiana, I am faced with the feeling that maybe all my faith and optimism were misguided. Maybe it's not really ever going to be OK.

I don't know if politics are changing or if I am just paying attention for the first time, but I am left confused and for the first time, really nervous about where we are going. First, our town offered a referendum raising property taxes an almost negligible amount in order to fund the community school corporation after the government slashed their budget. Alternatives to the tax money is firing teachers therefore increasing class size, cutting programs decreasing exposure to our children and God knows what else. I supported the tax hike. I support our schools. I support my kids. I support my property values, which increase with the quality of the school district. And I was in the minority. A tiny minority.

Now, I am not naive. I get that the schools could manage money better, and I demand that they do so. But, money management cannot make up the difference alone. And now I sit back and I fear what is to come. I question whether or not Will is going to have art, music and PE and if Tabbi will keep her straight As if she isn't in a class with a teacher and a teacher aide that give her a lot of attention. Will she be swallowed up in a 45 kid classroom with one teacher? What's next for our education system and why oh why is that not one of the most critical concerns of our citizens, local or federal government? Our kids are free falling compared to other countries and yet we've slashed the money and turned our backs hoping that our overworked, underpaid teachers can somehow maintain their standards. How can they? 65% or more of this town just basically told them that it sucks to be them, and good luck with nothing... and yet we say, "but you still better make my kid a genius." Head's up, people... you don't get it both ways.

Then yesterday, my state's governor made national news by slashing funding yet again. This time to Planned Parenthood, an organization whose purpose is to provide health screenings, prenatal care, and birth control options to the disenfranchised. The federal government decided not to make good on their threats, so our local guy decided to step in and take care of the evil beast that is free medical screenings and education. I realize that they also do the A word, but this isn't about that. I can admit that I am not pro-A word, but I can also admit that it isn't my place to decide whether or not you are. But, I can also open my eyes and ears and see that the money Governor Mitch "Hates Women" Daniels just cut doesn't go toward those anyway. So, like them or not, they aren't a part of this conversation.

He cut the money that goes to the 16 year old girl who thinks that she may have an STD and is too afraid to tell her parents or go to her family doctor. But, thanks to Mitch, she can just suffer and spread it. It goes to the 22 year old young woman with a drug problem, whose mother is already raising one grandchild because she knows enough to see that she can't. So the woman's one responsible act is when she goes every month to Planned Parenthood for birth control shots. Thanks to Mitch, she can just get pregnant over and over again. It goes to the 36 year old woman having horrible cramps and no health insurance, and her free pap smear just showed that it's cancer. Thanks to Mitch, it can go undetected and she can die. And, it goes to the teenage couple with the raging hormones, who know all about abstinence but are contemplating having sex, and they need to know their options when it comes to the realities of life... that right or wrong, they probably are not going to wait until they are married and therefore need to be effectively educated on disease and pregnancy prevention. But, thanks to Mitch, they are left without any education, and open to unwanted pregnancy and even worse, HIV or AIDS.

I sit here and no longer feel assured that everything is going to be OK. Our country has real problems, and my state and town are no different. It is going to take real solutions to fix it, not sticking our head in the sand and hoping that schools just somehow find a way to get funded, and underprivileged women miraculously avoid getting diseases. I feel like our heads have been in the sand long enough, and maybe.... just maybe... it's time to face some problems head on and actually find an answer. Maybe it's time to inspire a little faith in our government again. Maybe it really is time for a change...

Keeping Up With the Joneses

I have an admission to make... I don't keep up with the Joneses. I don't keep up with the Smiths or the Farouks either. In fact, I pretty much keep up with no one, and you know what? I think that's OK.

Here's one of my many dirty little secrets. I don't have a smart phone. I have a phone that is red, makes and receives calls and even sends and receives texts. It doesn't do a whole lot more than that. Well, I guess it takes pictures.... but it doesn't send them anywhere, and it sure doesn't take quality shots that make me look like Heidi Klum, so what's the point? And, I have no apps at all. I can't buy movie tickets at the press of a button or GPS my way out of downtown if I get lost. I can only make a phone call. And you know what? That suits me just fine.

Here's another secret... I don't have an iPod either. Not an iPod Touch, Nano or even skittle (or whatever those little ones are called). The closest thing to an iPad that I have is a pad of paper. It's mine, therefore it's my iPad. I don't laptop, I don't gadget and I don't want to. I am typing on my desktop with my actual paper calendar with actual ink on it behind me. And you know what? I manage to survive in my slightly better than Amish lifestyle.

Despite my lack of techy prowess (or desire), I am confronted on a near daily basis about people's fancy stuff. They got the new iPhone Whatchamacallit that actually vacuums floors while doing your taxes. Not only that, they upgraded to a million inch flat screen 3D TV that shows movies while they are being filmed. No more waiting for it to hit the theaters. The picture's so good, you can see the pimples on Julia's face! Huzzah!!! And thanks to the advanced 3D technology, you can reach right out and pop it! They just bought the new quatro hydra minivan that runs on hamster farts and is the hottest thing in automobiles and don't get me started on the house buying, yard keeping nonsense. I grow dandelions. Hundreds of them. Beat that!

It has become ingrained in our culture that not only should we throw all our pennies at any material thing we want, but we must do so in such a way that it is flaunted at all of our neighbors and friends. It is not enough to own the iPhone with the dishwasher app, but we must present it at the next PTO meeting so that all the mothers with dish pan hands may drool over it. Luckily, there's an app to wipe off the drool smears or we might start to question this practice.

So, be aware all you Joneses and Smiths and Farouks out there, and all you owners of techy stuff and bigger and better things than I have..... I am a Lynn. No one has to worry about keeping up with me, and believe me... I've got better things to do than worry about keeping up with you. After all... there's no app in the world that will keep up with these children I've got, and until there is... I'm not buying.