Chess Lessons

Connor recently learned how to play chess and loves it. Because of this, he requests to play it quite a bit. I've always gotten out of playing the game with him because I didn't know how. Now, the reason that I don't know how to play chess is not because no one has offered to show me. It's also not that I couldn't figure it out myself either. What it boils down to is the fact that I generally do not like games of strategy. It took me only a couple of games of checkers with Craig to realize that, any game where I can win if I just think ten steps ahead, I am just no good at and, frankly, I prefer to win now and then.

But because I love my boy that much, I put aside my hangups and let him give me a chess lesson one day while we were at the library. I listened to him introduce me to each chess piece (the one with the T on the top is the king, the little guys are the rooks) and what it's particular moves are while we start a game. Because I'm getting a lesson from a first grader, some of the moves sound a little suspect. 

I go to take one of his pieces after I move a rook forward and he tells me you can only capture a piece with a rook when you move diagonally. But he just said that rooks only move forward. Hmm. Sounds like you're making these rules up as you go, little boy. With a wifi connection at the library, a search on chess piece moves, and a smug "See, I told you" from my son later, the game continued. And continued. And continued. 

I finally realized that this game was going to involve a whole lot of moving the same pieces over and over just to use a turn with no one really winning. I asked Connor what it took for someone to win. After he explained, I looked at my pieces to see if I could take the steps needed to make that happen. Once I saw that wasn't possible, I began aggressively sacrificing pieces. There goes my knight. Oops, you got my queen. My rooks are being captured left and right, though one mysteriously makes it to the other side.Wait. Now I get my queen back because of that? Grrr. I can't even win losing.

Finally, I hear Connor declare "Checkmate" and I know from watching "Searching for Bobby Fisher" that meant the game was over. He was happy both from having won and also from having taught me how to play. 

I think I liked playing chess better when he was three.

(If the video doesn't appear, click here.)

Daddy's Super Hero

Connor and Craig have been watching super hero cartoons together lately. Right now, they're on a Spiderman kick, but prior to that, it was Justice League. A few months ago, Craig started teasing his son by saying that Connor's favorite hero was Green Lantern. (It's not. I mean, whose favorite is actually Green Lantern? C'mon.) It's an exchange that's really funny to be in the audience for and usually results in the boy charging at his father, fists first. And Connor is like a little terrier that doesn't realize that he's not as big as the German shepherd that he's constantly barking at. And like a terrier, his energy level for this type of play is extremely high and he just WILL NOT STOP.

I took my little super hero-loving brawler to Target on a day where I had enough patience to be a competent participant in the "We're Not Buying Anything" game*. Most of the time, I deal with purchase requests by offering to put those items on his wish list and then refer to the closest date where he might be given said item (Easter, Christmas, birthday). So when Connor asked to go to the toy aisle, I happily complied. We had a blast when we got to the super hero section.

He faked extreme excitement and said "Send Dad this picture".

Connor loved looking at all of the toys in this section and playing pretend. And then he came across these Incredible Hulk Smash Fists and was mesmerized. He eagerly read the back of the box (in my mind, he was checking to see if there's a "don't hit your sister" warning). After reading, he said, "Daddy would NOT like it if I got these." He flipped the box around to look at the fists a little closer and added, "Put these on my list."

* For those that haven't played, this is a game where the parental participant has to repeat the phrase "We're not buying anything" over and over to every single request from their child. Each time, the parent must keep their voice at the same volume as when they began the game, regardless of their child's volume, changes in the child's tone (ranging from calm to complete whine-fest), type of request (usually starts out with purchases that require lottery money and then tapers off to gumball machine change requests), or state of movement (the sky's the limit for the kids in this area, as is the floor and the shelves and underneath the clothes racks). Whoever elicits an eye-roll from a passer-by loses.

CDO (Because It Should Be In Alphabetical Order)

The kids and I were heading to a friend's house over the weekend. While getting ready, I voiced my concern to Cara that I was going to forget the can of water chestnuts that I wanted to bring. She suggested that I set it out and I explained that, sometimes, that isn't always a guarantee that I would remember.

And then my darling, brilliant daughter, who knows me so very well, set the can on the counter like this:

I totally remembered to bring the water chestnuts.

Child Labor

Cara is now at an age where, when she requests to participate in certain things or wants to buy something that isn't particularly on the "need" list, she is told that she will need to use her own money. The list of things she has to dip into her own funds for is growing as she gets closer and closer to her teen years.

Now that her cash reserve is dwindling, Cara has been doing research on ways in which she could make money that she might actually enjoy. In her research, she came across a book called "Better Than A Lemonade Stand", which gave her a host of options along with advice on how to run her own small business.

One of the options mentioned in the book was babysitting. And not just having your own group of people you babysit for. Oh no. This was a whole babysitter/pimp suggestion where Cara would start out as the primary babysitter, develop a client list, and then enlist the help of additional babysitters, which she would organize and get a cut from.

I don't know that Cara will get to that point (and if we do, we are open for suggestions on where to buy pimp hats).In the meantime, she's starting into this endeavor much more prepared than I ever was when I babysat. Besides the research she has done, Cara is also taking a class with the Red Cross specifically designed for kids her age who want to babysit.

It's so great to watch her so interested in what she is learning and I'm sure the coursework provides some insight that I might not have thought to give her myself. But it's hard to not take it personal when my daughter suggests that I "should really read some of this. It talks about how to deal with kids without yelling."

Who's There?

Cara has been asking for a while for a cell phone. I know that for some, 12 years old might seem too young. However, if you went by Cara's estimate, she was the only one her age without one. I have to admit, she really never whined about this. Rather, she would present her case calmly every so often and was usually met with unconvinced parent faces.

It's always fun to keep your child's expectations low only to surprise them by granting their wish. Or rather, the Easter Bunny did.

We didn't go all out. It's just a simple "grandma phone" as she lovingly refers to it. But that grandma phone has unlimited talk and text, so she is super happy.

One of the negatives about a simple phone like this is that there's not a lot of options for fun phone cases. In typical Cara fashion, she didn't let that stop her. She made her own case. She designed it and cut out all of the pieces. I then sewed them together and now am seriously considering trading phones with her just so I can use this case.

He's Not Arguing, He's Opposing

Most conversations with Connor involve a delicate game of semantics. Use the right word, and you're home free. Use the wrong word and you're in for a long and winding road that usually leads right back to where you started.

Normally, our advice to outsiders caught in one of these discussions is to "go limp" (our code for just agree with him). Even knowing this, I am the biggest sucker when it comes to getting pulled in to these. Sometimes, I just can't let it go and these things go on and on and on and just when I think I've proven my point, he's found a way to make himself the winner of the argument. (Shut up. It's not like I'm wondering where he gets it.)

Like this one time:

Connor: "This girl at school had a coat just like mine."

Me: "The blue one?"
Connor: "No. Her coat was just like mine."
Me: "Which coat of yours was it like?"
Connor: "The blue one."

Or this other time:
Me: "You have a booger on your nose."
Connor: "No I don't. It's dried snot."
Me: "Snot and boogers are the same thing."
Connor: "No, snot is wet and boogers are dry.

But transcription of the conversation does not truly capture the verbal circles this child can argue in. A virtual dialogue tornado. Lucky for you, I'm a storm chaser when it comes to these and I was actually able to capture one on film.

It should be noted that, immediately after I "cut", Connor tried to get me to smell the cards.

Apple users, you're going to want to upgrade to Android to watch this. Okay, fine. You could click here instead.

Oh, Shift

YouTube videos do not always come with warnings. Anything that has NSFW in the title, I can usually count on to not be something that I want to show to my kids. With Cara getting older, I've gotten a little more lax on what she can and can't view. In fact, I probably push it a little bit into the TMI range for her when I go into details to explain any adult content that she might have encountered. 

Ooh. Just had a flashback to grade school. My friend, Jennifer, and I watched "The Blue Lagoon" at her house, even though my parents had told me that they didn't want me to watch it. I didn't see what the big deal was after watching it (it took me until I was in my 30s to realize how raunchy the movie "Grease" was, so you could say I might have been a bit naive). But my parents, upon finding out and moving past their "disappointed in you" talk, wanted to discuss in detail what I thought about the movie. I believe I talked about the plot and how I loved Brooke Shield's hair and would never want to live on an island like that. Eventually, they had to directly ask about the nudity which I had no clue was an issue until they pointed it out. Yay, parenting!

Back to today...

Connor is at the age where he'll come home from school and tell me about a kid in his class that "said the I word". Idiot, for those that don't speak grade school code. Yeah. Idiot is a curse word at school, which it rightly should be when the intention in using that word is to make someone feel bad. But that actual word and dozens more like it are found in commercials and cartoons and in passing conversations, so it's hard to limit exposure to those sorts of things. Even so, I do try to keep him away from the handful of words that are considered to be curse words both in and out of the elementary school yard. 

Needless to say, we do not like letting Connor watch YouTube videos without supervision. Usually (and by usually I mean when Craig is around to suggest I do so), I will watch the video first and then let him know if he can view it after me. I watched a video the other day that I found funny and I thought Connor would as well. The only problem with it was that at the very end, an adult word was used. Had my phone been working right, I would have successfully stopped the video before that word was spoken. I tried not to draw attention to it, but that boy doesn't miss much. 

"I heard them say 'he's shifting'," he tells me.  Phew. Coast was clear....if I had kept my mouth shut. 

Instead, I pointed out the nudity in the "Blue Lagoon." 

I ask, "What do you think that means?" I fully expected an accurate description of shifting. So, my loud blurt of laughter can be justified as surprise when he said, "It means shooting dung."