Outlawed toys

An episode of Nancy Grace explained why there were no toys on the FLDS Texas compound. It seems Warren Jeffs outlawed toys a few years ago. As a parent, I know how toys play such an essential part in a child’s development.

I can’t help but wonder how the children are faring in foster care. I know the state is making an effort to ease the children’s separation from the only home they’ve ever known, which includes making adjustments in the children’s diet. I imagine it would be a shock on their systems to shift from all natural and organic foods to processed.

But, are the children being exposed to toys? If so, are the youngsters avoiding them, or exporing?

Where are the toys?

I am watching Larry King’s special, featuring the tour of the Texas compound, by one of the Fundamentalist LDS women. The lack of toys is striking. The place seems so neat and tidy, yet almost sterile. The woman, who is showing the camera around, keeps remarking how the children are gone, making reference to the quiet.

As she takes the camera through the bedrooms used by the children and mothers, you would expect to see abandoned toys, perhaps a doll sitting alone in the corner, or some wagons or trucks. She shows the camera her daughter’s baby book, and says how her daughter looks at it all the time. Yes, I imagine she would, as there doesn’t seem to be much in the way of books and toys on the premises.

As a mother I try to feel sorry for the women, yet I will confess, I find it difficult to connect with the women on the screen. They are from another world, and I imagine to them, we appear to be from another word.

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Plural Mothers

On the news tonight it is all about the Texas raid of the fundamentalist Latter Day Saint polygamist sect. It does make me wonder about the family situations of the thousands of plural marriages reportedly in this country. I understand not all polygamists are like those we are currently seeing on the news.

Yet, whenever I hear someone from a polygamist family (be it the Warren Jeff or Big Love version) talk about how the children have “mothers”, I wonder about those relationships.

In mainstream America, a child might have two mothers, a birth mom and a step mom. Yet, I would imagine the dynamics between a non-biological polygamist mom and child is far different than that of a step-mother and a child. For one thing, a wife and ex-wife would never be experiencing the same competion for the child’s father, as does two women who are still in a marriage with the man. And add to that additional mothers.

And so, how do the women relate to the children of their sister wives? Is there ever a true mother’s love?

Girl Toys, Boy Toys

I graduated from high school the summer of 1972. One of my best friends gave birth to a baby girl, less than nine months later. Another one of our friends and I went together to purchase a baby gift. We were barely eighteen, and growing up in the midst of the women’s movement.

My friend (who later became an attorney) insisted we not buy a girly baby gift. No dolls. No stereotypical gender baby gift for our mutual friend’s newborn.

Nine years later I gave birth to my baby girl. At the time I had a three year old son. Until then, I had never given Scott a doll. He had plenty of stuffed animals, but no baby dolls. It is funny, when there is just a boy in the house, a parent doesn’t necessarily think about buying toys aimed at girls. Yet, it was not uncommon to buy “boy” toys for a little girl. It was all part of the somewhat convoluted logic of those struggling with their own definition of gender equality.

Before I brought our new baby girl home, I decided to buy Scott his first doll. My primary reason, it would allow him to have his own “baby”. I imagined he might pretend to bathe his doll, as Mommy bathed her newborn.

Well, Scott looked at the doll, taking hold of it by the foot, and shrugged, then tossed it aside, and raced to play with something else. He wasn’t even remotely interested.

I love dolls, something I failed to share with my high school friend, who wouldn’t let us purchase one. And so, while our son wasn’t interested, Elizabeth loved dolls. She came by it naturally. Not necessarily because she is a girl, but I loved dolls, my mother loved dolls, and my grandmother loved dolls.

As our two children grew up, they had equal access to their sibling’s toys. And although we would we would occasionally purchase one a toy that might be considered more appropriate for their sibling’s gender, they each seem to favor those toys that might be consider appropriate for theirs, by the “old” standards.

We never told them a particular toy was a “boy toy” or “girl toy”. All toys were created equal in the playroom. Yet, Elizabeth would always prefer her dolls, be it a baby doll or Barbie, and Scott chose his trucks and blocks. Some might assume this is simply an echo from another era, as opposed to the natural order of things.

Yet I, as a mother of a boy and girl, now believe that there is an innate difference between boys and girls. I am not saying that one is better than the other, or that all girls are going to like the same things, nor will all boys.

Frankly, I rather like the idea that boys and girls are different. And this, from a supporter of the woman’s movement.

Things kids say

Last night I was reading my mom yesterday’s blog entry, when she reminded me of something our daughter once said. Being a grandma and all, she wanted to make sure her grandchildren had equal billing.

Her story took place when Elizabeth was a very little thing, in pre-school. She was always a picky eater, yet one day my father decided to take her and Scott out for fast food hamburgers.

When Elizabeth’s burger arrived, she very carefully, and meticulously, picked off each item, commenting on each removal.

“I hate tomatoes,” she said, as she gingerly removed the offending vegetable.

“I hate lettuce,” she said, then picked off the leaves of lettuce.

“I hate onions,”she said, as she wrinkled her nose and plucked off the stinky onion.

And then with a serious pause, she looked at her grandfather and announced, “I don’t like anything I hate.”

The truth about Roy Rogers

When our son was two, my parents opened the Road’s End Restaurant, which had a spectacular view of Lake Havasu. I doubt Scott has any personal memory of the opening, but he was the first customer. This first grandson, sitting in his high chair, was served up the first hamburger.

As the years progressed, whenever we visited his grandparents, he’d often sit in a bar stool, visiting with his Grandpa Walt, as dad bartended. Dad would make his number one grandson those familiar childhood cocktails; Shirley Temples and Roy Rogers.

A year after the Road’s End opened, Don, Scott, our new baby daughter, and I, moved to the mountain community of Wrightwood, California.

When Scott was in elementary school, construction started on a lot directly across the street from us. We soon learned the contractor was Dusty Rogers, the son of the legend, Roy Rogers.

As children, Don and I would have been very excited to meet the famous Roy Rogers. One afternoon Don called Scott to his side, and pointed to the house being built across the street.

“Scott, guess who is building that house?” Don asked his young son, sure the child would be impressed. “Roy Roger’s son”.

Scott gave his father one of those expressions that a child gives his parent, when they suddenly realize that parent is clueless.

“Dad,” Scott replied “Roy Rogers is a drink, not a person.”

Deciding to be a parent

I remember once, a long time ago, when I was in high school, sitting with two of my girlfriends and discussing our future. It is one of those memories that, for whatever reason, sticks with you clearly. We were sitting on the gym bleacher, engaged in a verbal make believe of our future.

I’ll call one of the friends Ann, and the other Sue (although that’s not their real names). Ann and I were talking about the wonderful things we were going to do with our lives, and we didn’t include children.

Sue, on the other hand, was emphatic about wanting children. Ann and I teased that we too would have kids, but we would let Sue take care of them for us, while we were out doing exciting things.

Years later, I heard that Ann had experienced fertility problems, and went to extreme measures to eventually have her children, which she definitely did not send off to Sue.

When I was newly married, I had a malignant tumor removed from my olfactory nerve, and underwent radiation treatment for about six weeks. Facing cancer has a way of forcing us to acknowledge our mortality and puts into perceptive our priorities. It was then I realized how much I did want children.

I don’t believe everyone should have children, not everyone is suited for parenthood. I also don’t believe that children should be the only thing we live for, yet I do believe that for some of us, our children are an essential element in making our lives complete.

One of the poems in Motherhood addresses these feelings:

When there is no longer time to spend,
I shan’t recite the words I’ve penned,
for Saint Peter who shall demand,
that I recount deeds of my hand.

Nor shall I tell of corporate gains,
or of my ride on success’ train.
For those goals which possess us all,
will ultimately measure small.

Instead I’ll tell of all the time,
I spent reciting a nursery rhyme,
and when I rocked my babe till dawn,
or rolled and laughed upon the lawn.

Those acts performed by
father or mother,
will measure far
beyond all others.

Missing them...

It’s really warming up where we live. Summer has arrived. With summer means outdoor living, something I usually enjoy. But, I’ll admit, I am a little blue these days, wishing my kids live closer.
I would enjoy our beautiful back yard, and this amazing weather much more, if I could ask my kids over for a Saturday barbeque, or Sunday dinner.

But they each live miles away. And while I am happy for them both, and appreciate that they deserve their independent lives, it doesn’t make it any easier.

After all, I am still a mom.

Character Counts

My sister is a teacher, and recently she took a seminar called “Character Counts”. She told me of one of the questions the speaker asked the group; how many in the class had one of those detectors in their cars, the ones that tell you when a cop was nearby?

A few raised their hands. He then asked about the message they were sending their kids. It is okay if you speed, if you don’t get caught.

It reminded me of a fundamental truth of parenting. Our examples (good or bad) will have far more impact on our children’s development, than any words we might say.

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Should mom be the teacher?

I no longer live in California, but news last month that they were attempting to ban homeschooling caught my attention. We homeschooled our children for about three years. It was done by necessity (we were living in a very remote location), not some social statement. But, if I had it to do over, I would have homeschooled my son earlier.

It bothers me that the public school system (which has its own issues) would be forced on citizens by the government, especially when statistics often report homeschooled children achieve greater academic success.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not blaming teachers. It is the system they are forced to operate in, which stifles creativity and is bloated in bureaucracy. That is what many homeschool parents are trying to escape. (And I won’t even discuss the safety and discipline issues in the public school system!)

On the flip side, there is the recent news story on the raids of the polygamy sect in Texas, where they have rounded up hundreds of children. Stories like these give those anti-homeschoolers credibility.

But, the fact remains, there are compromises that can be made, which would allow for homeschooling, while assuring our youth is educated. When we homeschooled in Arizona, we registered with the state, and our children were tested on a regular basis, to make sure they were on tract. I didn’t resent this requirement, it made sense.

Insisting all parents who homeschool must hold a teacher’s credential is absurd. For one thing, there are many teachers in public schools who do not hold a valid teacher’s credential. Case in point, my husband was offered a job in a public school district in Southern California as a special education teacher. He has a degree in Economics, and he (as did I) passed his CBEST, but he does not have a teacher’s credential. He does have long-term substitute teaching experience in Arizona.

Years ago I held a long term sub position at an elementary school in California. I have my Bachelors, but not a teacher’s credential. The students did not speak English, they spoke Vietnamese. In the school district’s infinite wisdom they hired ME, a young and unqualified college graduate, with no knowledge of Vietnamese, to teach this elementary class for about a month. School districts are still making goofy decisions like that, often influenced by budget and not what is in the best interest of the student.

So what is the motivation behind the initial California ruling? It can’t be concern that abuse cases might be getting overlooked (as very well may have been happening in Texas), considering the number of teacher-student molestation stories hitting the newsroom. It can’t be a concern over academics, since homeschooled children often test higher. Can’t be concern over socialization, considering the stories of violence on busses, playground brawls caught on YouTube, and assorted sordid tales, which do not make a convincing argument about the positive attributes of socialization in public schools.

Money…ahhh…must be about the money, and those tax dollars the schools are missing out on when a student is being taught at home, and not in public school.

What makes a mother happy...

Yesterday was Mom’s 80th birthday. All along Mom warned us she did not want a surprise party. She didn’t want anything. I believed the part about not wanting a surprise party. Mom isn’t much for parties where she is the guest of honor.

But, I couldn’t believe she wanted us to simply ignore the day. I called my sister, and asked if there was anyway she could make it down for Mom’s birthday. (My sister lives about 7 hours away). But she was ahead of me, and was already making plans to come out with her husband.

So on Friday night we surprised mom, with a visit from my sister. The grandkids weren’t able to make the trip, but Mom seemed delighted having just her own two children, for the entire weekend. We spent a quiet weekend visiting, having a BBQ, and didn’t invite anyone over. Just my husband and I, and my sister and her husband, along with the birthday girl.

Mom said it was the best birthday ever. Sometimes all it takes to make a mother happy, is to have all of her children by her side.

(Photo: Mom with my sister and I.)