It's hard to get little kids to wash their hands. But who better to model hand hygiene for a toddler than the toddler herself?
Clever use of photos to inspire sustained behavior change via the dad of Grace's friend & classmate, Mia. A neat illustration of an intervention intended to provoke a certain change in health behavior through a visual reminder not only of the task but of task-specific self-efficacy.
Christian parents: Do you raise your children to believe in Santa Claus? Is that not the same as lying to them? I understand that it was a great part of your childhood believing in the "magic" of Christmas but eventually you learned the truth. Wouldn't you rather your children grow up with the knowledge that Jesus is the reason to celebrate?
I really believe that Christmas is a huge part of why Americans are so materialistic. We are conditioned from a very early age to look forward to two days a year when we get presents.
I'm posting this because I genuinely want to know why you think it's ok to let your kids believe in Santa. Even if you don't comment here, e-mail me (warner.dylan@gmail.com) or send me a DM or reply on Twitter.
Edit: I don't have children so if you want to write this off as ignorance then so be it. However, these are genuine concerns that I have so if you feel the desire to respond, please do so.
Aikido: a martial art performed by blending with the motion of the attacker and redirecting the force of the attack rather than opposing it head-on.I have given birth to a strong-willed child.
I am. I am really tired. She is wonderful and she is determined, beguiling and tenacious. If we can make sure to harness her powers for Good (oh, please!), she will be a force to be reckoned with someday.
In the meantime, I'm simply trying to pick my battles and conserve my energy. Lately, there have been cries of "I WANT THIS!" in every store, over anything with glitter or ribbons or ponies or how-much-junk-have-they-plastered-HelloKitty-on-just-stop-already-Japan-come-on!
It isn't always possible to avoid taking her along on shopping trips, though I am tempted to order everything--even groceries--for delivery through the mail until she is eighteen. Because, how great would that be?
After a tug-of-war over yet another Dora the Explorer notepad in the grocery store ("Mommmmy! I NEED it!"), I had enough. I remembered the iPhone in my purse that Aaron had given to me as a hand-me-down. I whipped it out and made her hold the notebook up high.
She happily returned the notebook to the shelf and skipped on down the aisle. It worked. My diabolical plan worked. And it has been working for the last two months since that first Santa picture. No more fights. No more shopping drama. Just an iPhone memory card full of pics like the ones below.
I don't know what to do with these pics, or what Santa will eventually bring. The peace has been nice. I don't cringe at the thought of taking her to a store anymore. I just cringe at wondering how long I can keep this going without some kind of new plan. I really don't want to think about it.
CB Radio Setup
I have to admit that, while coming of age and being a man in the 1970s, I engaged in some rather unsavory behavior. I wrecked a lot of women. I slept with a lot of sports cars. I ate a lot of meat. I talked on the C.B. radio.
Father became enamored the the C.B. radio when he discovered that, relatively cheaply, he could put a C.B. radio inside of the cab of each of the riot control vehicles we were selling and turn, through the miracle of communications, six vehicles into a coordinated, powerful, crowd-flattening juggernaut.
That meant that all of us boys, and my sister Diedre, had to learn how to properly enter a C.B. radio network, use the appropriate 10-whatever codes, and properly leave the network by signing off. For example, for me to call up Father and tell him that the transmission was out on one of our R-362 Crowd Sweeper vehicles, I would have to ask for permission to enter the net. I would have to say something like,
10-41 [radio test], this is Sugar Foot, over (Sugar Foot was my “handle”).
Father would reply,
10-4, Sugar Foot, this is Tater Tot (Father’s “handle”). 10-67(prepare to copy message), 10-8 (stand by).
An hour or so would go by. I’d do a 10-41 again, and then Father would wake up and holler at me in the clear.
These lengthy harangues in the clear, abandoning all pretense of using 10 signals, would inevitably end up being recorded by HAM radio operators all over the Northeastern United States. For years, during the 1980s, Father’s lengthy diatribes were handed around at trade shows and exchanged via mailing lists. He is widely credited with inventing the words “Fuck Stick” and “Pigeon Fucking Toad.”
I can certainly see how this exact same thing could have happened to former Alaska Governor Sarah Palin:
[…] a few years later the young Sarah became enamored of Todd Palin, a quiet boy who’d moved to town to play basketball at the high school. He drove Sarah to practice. He owned both a car and a truck. He was polite. Her family approved. All was great.
But with four teenagers in the Heath household, calls to members of the opposite sex on their single phone line were banned. Sarah and Todd found a way around this when they discovered that if they stood on their respective back porches they could talk to each other on the VHF radios he used on his fishing boat in the summer.
They talked that way for months – until they discovered that the commercial trucks barreling through towns could hear them.
Instead of love, I experienced nothing but abuse on the C.B. radio. And, just like poor Miss Palin, the haters were listening and recording my conversations. Somewhere, those love notes over the open frequencies were recorded by horny truckers, and put on cassette tapes, and filed away. For her sake, I hope they don’t pop up at the next Republican National Convention.
I have a blog, and God, I love my blog. I love it MORE than my children, sir. As God as my witness, yes, yes I do...
It¹s Thanksgiving week, which means you¹ll probably be in the car with your
kids at some point. It¹s rarely a peaceful journey door-to-door. Try playing
Car Bingo.
http://www.momsminivan.com/printables.html
When surrounded by family and friends, it's easy to forget that others are
less fortunate. Teach your kids responsibility to their community by sharing
the wealth. Volunteer at a soup kitchen while your turkey is baking. Or
have each child donate one toy each to a shelter. Before you donate the
gifts, have the kid write a note about why this toy is special and they hope
the new owner will enjoy it.
Are you a helicopter parent? A fixer? A control freak? Here are useful tips
on when to step in and when to butt out .....
http://www.parenting.com/article/Child/Development/6-Kid-Problems-That-Need-
Moms-Help
Business week compiled their list of best place to raise kids in the United
Sates in 2010. The list was took into consideration population, medium
income of towns and then looked at affordability, schools and safety. Have
you ever heard of Tonawanda, New York? Some of the winners are:
Anchorage, Alaska
Honolulu, Hawaii
West Haven, Connecticut
Wilmington, Delaware
Salina, Kansas
Ames, Iowa
Portland, Maine
