Parenting

Honestly, It’s A Perfectly Understandable Question

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 6 Comments

On Monday when I picked Zoë up from the babysitter’s, K (the babysitter) told me Zoë had asked all the other 3 kids “why are you white like your mom?”  K told me they talked about how people are different colors and sometimes they are the same as their moms and/or dads and sometimes they aren’t.  They also talked a little about adoption.  I told her thanks.

When we got to the car, I asked Zoë about it.  She then said, “I want to be white.”  We want through this with Noah when he was about that age, but it lasted about a day and we talked about his color is a gift from his Ethiopian mom and that all Ethiopians are brown and it was a way for him to always remember his Ethiopian mom and dad.  We have never shied away from talking about race/skin color and even how my skin color is different from my mom and brother who are more olive and me and my other brother are more pink like my dad.  So, I figured this conversation would go about the same way.

Not with Zoë.  When I asked her why?  She said, “I want to be a grown up and grown ups are white.”  Well shit.  Then I started thinking, all of the adults that are constants in her life are white.  We live in a pretty diverse city and we see African Americans nearly everywhere we go, but on an average day, all the adults she has interactions with are white.  We talked about how your skin color doesn’t change as you get older and those who are born with brown skin stay brown.  We then talked about how her Ethiopian mother was brown and she seemed to understand that, but still wants to be “white when I’m a grown up.”

Oh boy.  I have some work to do.  Advice?

Oh How Parenting Has Changed

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 1 Comment

This weekend we celebrated one of my grandma’s 84th birthday.  We all got together at her house for dinner and desert.  This us to be something we did nearly every week when I was growing up and all of us kids were small.  Now many of us kids have our own kids and busy lives.  Which means we don’t get to see each other very often.  My kids got to play with their cousin (first cousin once removed to be technical) and had a blast.  They played with their great aunt and uncles and laughed.  It was nice to see energy and life in my grams house that hasn’t been there is so long.

We got to telling the stories we remembered from our own parents childhoods.  The ones that get told over and over again by us kids about our parents, aunts and uncles.  Like the time my uncle stuck his tongue to a metal pole and then had it ripped off.  Or the time my other uncle feel down in the sewer.  Or the time my dad and some buddies accidentally started a bulldozer and ran.  Or the time my aunt fell out of a car.  Good stories.  Well, this weekend I was reminded about how much parenting has changed.

My dad told a story that had me laughing hysterically.  He was about 7 and the street was being repaved/tarred and he and his buddies were playing in it and he came home covered in tar.  My grandpa who was a hard man.  He is a bit rough and old world didn’t hit my dad or loose his temper, he simply handed my dad a rag and a can of gasoline, stood him in the backyard and told him to clean up.  “But don’t rub to hard or you’ll set yourself on fire,” he said as he walked away.  My dad said he cried hysterically the whole time he rubbed it off his harms seriously thinking he might actually catch on fire.  We all laughed hysterically.  My dad said he certainly never played in tar again.

I can’t imagine telling something like that to my kids by in the 50’s parenting was very different.  But I’ll never get that image out of my head and every time I think about it I laugh just a little.

Thanks for the laugh gramps.  Miss you.

Dare I Say It? We Are Done With Diapers

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 2 Comments

Except for at night time (even though I can’t remember the last time Noah peed in his pull-up and Zo’s been pretty good too).  It has been about a week now of our little princess using the potty.  We spent the last 4 days in underwear with one minor almost accident.  She went to the sitters today in underwear.  Here’s to hoping she is still wearing them when I pick her up.  I hope…Please don’t let her pee all over the floor.  That would totally suck.  She is excited about being a big girl and must have told everyone she passed at drop-off at Noah’s school that she was wearing underwear.  It is pretty cute and OMG–I’m getting a pedicure with January’s pull-up money.

I have been freaking out about her not being out of diapers and I have once again been reminded that the kids will develop at their own pace and when they are ready they are ready. No need to push.  She has shown an interest in wearing underwear and going on the potty and she just decided it was time I guess.

Hoping I don’t have to come back and eat crow on this one.  Please pull-up fairy!

Totally Can’t Even Fake Curse Anymore! Fudge.

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / 1 Comment

Well Crap.  We parents are so creative.  When I want to use the “F” word, I don’t because I have kids and they hear and repeat everything.  I am always happy when my kids use language in its appropriate context, but there are some who frown upon cursing from the pre-school set.  Admit it–there is nothing cuter and funnier than when someone else’s kid curses.  HILARIOUS.

So we were at the Magic House yesterday.  After we parked I was not fast enough getting out of the car and I hear Noah laughing. I get up an I hear “Lets get out of the frickin car.”

“What did you say?”

“Nothing” says the little boy sheepishly.

“You don’t say that word Noah.”

‘Well you do.”

“Yes and I’m an adult.”  I also wanted to scream I say it because I can’t say what I really want to say. I say it because I don’t want you to learn the other word.  But the problem is that when I hear him say “frickin” I really hear him say the other word–because that is totally what it has come to mean now.  The word we use to replace the word we want to use has now come to mean the same thing as the word we don’t want our kids to use and now I don’t want him to say “frickin.”  This all means I have to find a new word and lord help me I don’t want it to be “fudge.”  That just totally sucks.

So. fess up readers–what are your replacement curse words and have your kids begun to commandeer them?

Yes, I’m That Mom

/ Dawn Kasal-Finley / Leave a comment

I’m the competitive mom. I can admit that. I want my kids to be exceptional. I don’t push my kids or force academic work on them. We pay attention to their interests and encourage their interests and provide them with activities and enrichment to support what they want to explore.

I’m the parent who isn’t afraid to admit that my kids are smart. I tell my kids it’s important to be smart, but I dont hold them to impossible standards. I have to admit that I was doing a happy dance inside when one of his teachers was telling us how smart and awesome he is. He has a good interpersonal intelligence and is very empathetic and kind. He counts higher than he needs to for kindergarten readiness and recognizes and writes all of his letters and numbers. He is starting to read and wants to keep learning how to read. He can spell many of his friends’ names from memory and wants to write often.

I know that my kid isn’t rare-so many young kids excel early on- but it reinforces what so much of the research proves: early childhood education is the most important. My kids already have an advantage by getting high quality early education.

I’m a proud parent. I’ll go ahead and take much of the credit as my kids first and most important teacher.