Bring It

I went to the mall today (I know, I'm a sadist). My sister-in-law and I took the kiddos (Rain and her two cousins, ages 2 and 3) to play in the mini park inside. Anyway, I've read enough parenting magazines to know the kind of drama that happens at playgrounds (bullies, accidents, and--gasp--children running around without sunscreen), but we decided to go anyway.

We get there, and Rain is excited. She takes off her shoes (following the rules) and runs off like mad. I'm feeling pretty good, because the place is enclosed, air-conditioned, and all the parents are sitting right there.

Strangely enough, it's that last item that actually makes the playground scene uncomfortable. Because parents are sitting in full view of their kids, this makes for some weirdness. When kids start shoving each other, for instance, you expect a parent to intervene, and when one doesn't, it's like, "Wha??" Then the other observant parents are sitting there staring at each other like, "What are we gonna do about this nonsense?" or "Did you notice that kid's not wearing any sunscreen?" Or if a kid freaks out at the top of the slide and blocks the line from moving, where's the mom to get things started again? There are all kinds of mediocre issues like these that demand attention, you know?

So. For quite a while, I was pretty impressed that Rain and her cousins played politely with all the other children. It's not that our band is a sinful little bunch, but when you work daily to mold and discipline kids, it's easy to forget that the hard work eventually brings results. Trust me, after Rain throws a fit at home, I find myself delving out punishments thinking, "Am I going to be on TV some day explaining to the public, 'I did the best I could with her?'" I digress. Anyway, it didn't take me long to notice that there was a little boy running around the playground pushing by others, yelling, and fighting with his equally evil siblings (a boy and another girl far too old to be swinging around in a playground). Though Rain and Celeste (Rain's cousin, who is only a month older than her) happened to play far away from this boy, I sensed there would be trouble eventually. After half an hour, though, I let my guard down and began perusing a magazine (of course, I did the sporadic mom thing: read one paragraph, check on kids, read another paragraph, check on kids ...).

At one point, I hear the girls chanting. I look up, and Rain & Celeste are sitting on a nearby bench side by side. Together they shout, "____, no!" I can not make out exactly what they're saying, but they're passionately chanting it in unison. At first, I think, "How cute--they're singing ... I think." Then I notice they're leaning forward, brows furrowed. Puzzled, I move to the side and realize that a piece of playground equipment has hidden from me the focus of their ire.

The little boy who had been trolling the grounds for trouble had finally engaged them. He looked to be 2 or 3 years older than Rain, though he carried a stuffed horse (what gives?). He screamed, and to his obvious surprise, the girls screamed back. In a move of a solidarity, they decided that instead of running from this brat, they were going to provoke him to put his horsey where his mouth was. He shouted again, and they chanted at him with a tone that amounted to, "Bring it!" The boy stepped closer and screamed again. Already my leg was twitching as I debated, "Should I let them handle it? Is this going to amount to character building or a cock fight?"

The girls chanted again, and the boy came closer. He was furious that they would not run. He stepped within two paces of them and raised his hand. That did it. My sister-in-law could take no more. She rushed over there, but the boy only swung his toy in anger. Once he saw that a mom was on duty, he scurried away. The girls were like, "Yeah, and don't come back!"

The boy's mom, of course, never once paused in her conversation with a friend to correct her son. So, what did I do? I sat back and picked up my magazine. Maybe it was smug, but I felt a bit sunnier knowing when it came down to it, the girls weren't going to be punked out by some bully. And if the kid runs around in public with a stuffed toy at his age, you know his mom doesn't make him wear sunscreen, either.

"Kids Today ..."

Since Rain has turned two, I find myself thinking more and more like my parents. Phrases like, "Do you want me to give you a reason to cry about?" and "Fine! But don't come crying to me about it when you fall off!" seem to come around more and more in circulation. Today I went out into the mall for the first time in forever, and I found myself thinking a lot of "Kids today this" and "Kids today that." The one that went more than a few times around the block was, "Kids today--what are they wearing??" For your convenience, I've broken down the main categories of fashion sense (hair included) available at the mall, for those who like to mentally prepare:

1. HOMELESS
This kid gives new meaning to the words "holey moley." Everything he wears is a combination of (1) ratty, (2) black, or (3) ratty black. Never mind he has the newest iPod and a seemingly Marinara Trench-deep account for hair dye, the boy walks about like he's about to ask me for a buck. Which he may do.

2. FAN HAPPY
Fan Happy haircuts often go hand-in-hand with Homeless guys, but not necessarily. If you've seen this cut, you know I'm not exaggerating when I say that it looks like there's a fan blowing on this guy's hair from the side all the time. The bangs go across they face (over the eyes) unreasonably low to create this permanent swipe of hair that doesn't occur in the natural world. Not even fledgling reporters in a tornado-force gust of wind have this look, so what's the deal? I pity these guys and girls--I do. They get little sleep at night because all day they're building this crick in their necks from tilting their heads to the side to keep the look.

3. SCARY SKINNY
Ok, please for the love of all that's good: young men, please stop wearing skinny jeans. Seriously, please. Maybe I'm old school, but who wants a man who is so scrawny he can share share jeans with you? Man up! I say again, man up!

4. BABY MAMA
Skank, I know, is a perennial favorite in fashion, so this doesn't qualify as new. What is continuously shocking to me is how much younger these girls are who are running around like they're 21. I'm so not morally judging them, because I for one think it's totally cool for a 10-year-old to look 21 ... as long as she plays the part all the way. Like move out of mom and dad's. Get a job. Pay rent. Buy your own food. Take care of your baby. Did I mention get out of mom and dad's?

Ok, gotta go--there's a kid over here looking for a buck.

Upendow

Rain's favorite word is "octagon." Whenever she sees a stop sign or a tiny, angular MasterCard logo on TV, she shouts, "Octagon!" Tim's original reaction to her saying this word several weeks ago was so impressive (he said, "Wow!" which for Tim, is pretty emotional), that Rain will say this word whether it's necessary or not (*points to light fixture* "Mommy--octagon!").

Her language is developing along nicely, which is a relief since four months ago I had her tested for verbal issues (another case of "parent"noia). The problem now is she still very much has her baby accent. This wouldn't be a big deal, but now she knows she's saying real words. When I don't understand her, she gets frustrated. Example:

Rain: (points to the toy iPod in her hand) "Mom, upendow."
Tim: "What, Rainbow?"
Rain: "Upendow."
Me: "Hmm. Do you mean 'octagon'?"
Rain: (*sighs*) "MOM, upendow."
Tim: (whispers) "What's she saying?"
Me: "I don't know, but she's saying it the same way each time."
Rain: (slowly) "Mom, uup-enn-dowww.
Tim: "Did she just say it--"
Me: "Slow like we're stupid? Yeah."
Rain: (more sighing, pointing again to iPod): "UPENDOW!"
Me: "Sorry, honey, but mommy doesn't understand."
Rain: (looking frustrated, hurt): "Upendow."

The next day, Rain was playing with her toy iPod again (plays like 6 songs or something), and she keeps singing one of the songs again and again. I stop and listen. Then I get it. She's singing "The Wheels on the Bus."

Rain: "Wheels on bus go upendow, upendow, upendow ..."
Me: "Oh! You mean, 'The people on the bus go up and down, up and down!"
Rain: (pointing happily to her iPod) "Upendow!"

I try to be patient during this process of learning vocab, but there are just times I say, "Sorry, kiddo, but until you stop speaking baby, I'm not going to be able to guess what you're trying to say."

What's maddening is she says other things perfectly clear.

Me: (dumb smile on my face, pom-poms at the ready) "Rain, ready to try going to the potty? Huh, huh?"
Rain: "Nope."

Me: (frantically preparing dinner while keeping Rain and her cousins from dangling off the stove--no hands to spare) "Guys, please give me just a second to finish!"
Rain: "Mom! Juice! Cookie!"

Then, when you least expect it:
Me: "Love you, Rain."
Rain: "Yuv you, too."

Guess it's a fair deal after all.