Your opinion: Bullying and where do you stand on discipling other people’s kids?

The media and blogosphere are abuzz in the wake of the suicide of Rutgers college freshman Tyler Clementi after his roommate secretly broadcast his encounter with another man.

This is an extreme and tragic example of cyberbullying and it makes me wonder 1) Do the two students who committed the crime have a history of bullying and if so, when did it begin? 2) What is our role as parents as it pertains to bullying and/or disciplining other people’s children?

My children are still young–ages 4 and 6. These issues are surfacing and I have been torn as to how to react. Does stepping in overstep our bounds when the boundaries are different with each person? Two recent examples:

A few weeks ago, my son Bode had his second soccer game. His team played another that looked like they had been playing together from birth. Not only were their skills beyond their age but they were almost a full head taller. Undaunted, Bode’s team members played their little hearts out despite being pushed, shoved and kicked the entire game. One red-headed boy in particular on the opposing team was the instigator for much of it.

Following the game, they had a friendly kick-off so all the kids who had not scored during the game would finally have their chance. They stood in line to wait their turn and at one point I looked up to see Bode crying. And noticed the red-headed boy kicking the crap out of his calves and punching him in the back.

I didn’t think. Instinctively I tore out to the field like a mama bear protecting her young. I yanked Bode away, bent down the kid’s level and very slowly, deliberately said, “You. Do. NOT. Touch. My Son.” His reaction? He sneered at me.

His mother, not seeing his trespasses but witnessing the aftermath raced out to the field as well. “What’s going on?” she asked not accusingly. I informed her, upon which she asked her son to give Bode an apology. After refusing, she took him off the field.

The drama unfolded in less than a minute but its echoes still resonate with me. Was I in the wrong to so deliberately confront her son? Though she reacted quickly, shouldn’t she have forced an apology? Where is the line when disciplining other people’s kids?

I have mulled these questions over in my mind to ascertain my line. Mine is I would never strike or even touch another person’s child. However, if they are causing bodily harm to mine, that is when I step in. There are some parents who react beyond that and some who do not react at all to their bullies musing, “kids will be kids.” The problem with everyone’s “lines” is they are all different.

And now for a bit of tasteless humor brought to you from The Motherland

My wonderful friends send me pretty much every pumpkin-related joke, picture or recipe they can find.

But this one from my friend Stacey takes the cake.

Or rather, the pie.

The caption: How pumpkin pies are made.

Don’t kill the messenger.

Puerto Rico

(Originally published at Mile High Mamas).

Last summer, my daughter Hadley and I went on a mother-daughter trip to the San Juan Marriott Resort and Stellaris Casino in Puerto Rico.

Three months later, she is still raving about it.

And what’s not to love? For a parent, the great thing about Puerto Rico is it feels like an exotic international adventure with all the conveniences of home that make traveling with kids a cinch.

As an unincorporated territory of the United States, Puerto Rico uses U.S. currency, locals speak English and Spanish, there are no roaming charges for most cell phone providers and Americans don’t need a passport.

They’re pretty swell to Canucks, too.

Puerto Rico is also resplendent with local culture. Latin music fills Old San Juan’s cobblestone streets, culinary delights ooze with flavor, El Yunque’s lush mountain rain forest begs to be explored and the white-sand beaches host families and sun worshipers from all over the world.

The Fun

Hadley and I spent an afternoon discovering Old San Juan’s quaint shops as we eavesdropped on a medley of foreign tongues. The area’s flat-roofed brick and stone buildings date back to the 16th and 17th century when Puerto Rico was a Spanish possession.

Old forts still stand sentry over the city but none is more impressive than Fort San Felipe del Morro. Perched on a bluff overlooking the ocean, “El Morro” is touted as the oldest Spanish fort in the new world and was built in 1539 to control entry to the harbor and protect San Juan from attacks. The charge is $3 per adult over 16.

Even though six-year-old Hadley was not interested in the details of this National Historic Site, she was enraptured by the 360-degree views on the top floor that encapsulated San Juan. A wide swath of ocean-blue spanned so far that you’d swear you could see the curvature of the earth.

Those were my words.

Hers: “Wow!”

A popular family activity is kite flying on El Morro’s vast lawn. A kaleidoscope of kites danced to the wind as we laughed, tugged and raced against a backdrop so surreal you’d swear you had been dropped in a postcard.

Tip: Be sure to cool down with Piraguas (icees) located at a nearby kiosk.

Water

On our first day, San Juan was wrapped in a seamless blanket of moisture. On the second day, it was hot and humid.

This woosy Canuck will take the rain any day.

I was admittedly a bit worried to go to the pool first. A few years ago, my family went to Mexico and my kids never wanted to venture out to the beach because of the pool. Sure enough, Hadley immediately fell in love with the Marriott’s waterslide in the Main Pool and the fountains in the Kids Pool (with water depths ranging from 1 1/4-3′).

I fell in love with the Pina Colada Smoothies at the swim-up bar.

We all have our priorities.

I struck up a conversation with a mom who grew up in Puerto Rico and now lives in Florida. She brings her kids back every summer but always stays at the Marriott even before going to see their grandparents because the kids love the pool and activities.

You know it’s good when Grandma plays second-fiddle.

The activities to which she referred are housed in the towel hut by the pool. Guests can check out fun games that include a Giant Connect Four, Frisbee, Giant Tick Tack Toe, Giant Dominoes, Bowling for Kids, Beach Volleyball and numerous board games. There is also a different activity schedule posted poolside each day for adults and kids that include Arts and Crafts on Saturday & Sundays, Cookie decorating, Bingo, Yoga lessons, Zumba, Beach volleyball, Limbo for the Kids, face painting and more.

Beach

Much to my delight, Hadley loved Codondo Beach as well. Protected by a natural rock barrier, the beach is modest and under-crowded.

Haddie and I built lumps of sand we passed off as sand castles, drank a gallon of salt water as we catapulted over the swells and munched on crunchy coconut ice cream intermixed with sand, sunshine and happiness.

The Glorious, Glorious Food

I fell in love with Puerto Rican food. These tropical masterpieces’ roots are infused in cooking traditions from Spain, Africa, Amerindian Taínos and heaven.

Trust me on that latter locale.

A couple of our favorite restaurants:

Raices

I have been obsessed with plantains since I discovered them on my honeymoon and Raices restaurant in Old San Juan offered satiation at its best. The lively atmosphere is a bit touristy but they do a great job incorporating local customs with the colorful decor and staff uniforms.

Our appetizer plate, Boricula Festival, gave a great sampling of indulges that include cassava and cheese fritters, fried corn stick, fried cassava stick and plantains.

Mofongo is Puerto Rico’s signature dish and is a must-try for first-time visitors. Served on a bed of mashed plantains you have a choice of succulent beef, chicken or seafood. Raices’ version was the best I ever had.

OK, it was the only one I’ve ever had.

But I just can’t imagine how it could get much better.

Jam

Another must-visit restaurant is Jam. When my daughter and I walked into this ultra-cool and modern eatery, I immediately identified everything she could destroy in the room. It’s tough to say who was more delighted to discover the kid room tucked away at the back of the restaurant with toys and movies.

The extensive children’s menu included a number of drink selections (“Kid Tails”) dedicated to the younger set. Haddie sipped a Chocotini (chocolate and white milk with spiraled syrup in a martini glass) and dined on grilled churrasco strips with crispy tostones (fried plantains).

I sampled a number of different dishes, my favorite being a veritable cup of heaven: white bean soup with truffle oil. Pineapple Buanelos rolled in sweet coconut with Puerto Rican rum sauce topped off the gastronome evening.

Ristorante Tuscany

Ristorante Tuscany is the San Juan Marriott’s formal dining enclave and boasts a specially designed menu of Northern Italian cuisine fused with Latino culture. It was a perfect send-off for my final dinner. The Marriott does not offer on-site kids clubs except during the holidays so attentive, nurturing and fun Nanny on Call PR was brought in to throw the kids a Pizza Party in an adjacent room.

While the kids played games, watched movies and had their hair French braided, I dined on dishes such as Pear and Gorgonzola Salad with Fiocchi Pasta, Fettucine Michelangelo and Grilled Filet Mignon with Barolo sauce.

Julian, the San Juan Marriott’s Director of Marketing, delighted me with tales of the Marriott dynasty and his Australian upbringing. He divulged that as a young child, his mother often served him raw strips of beef for snacks.

Good thing Puerto Rico is much more civilized.

Revealed: A Picky Eater’s Innermost Thoughts

An important General Conference tradition (in addition to listening to our church leaders via sattelite) is the food that accompanies it.

At least that was the case until Jamie’s parents moved to Utah and our Sunday-morning breakfast tradition of blueberry muffins, sausage and eggs was dead.

That is why I was thrilled when my friend Eva asked if her family of eight could watch at our place. In return for offering up our TV, she brought fruit, cinnamon buns, sausage, bacon and juice.

Can you say no-brainer?

I threw in some homemade caramel applesauce, an apple tart, eggs and pumpkin oatmeal chocolate chip cookies so we had quite the feast.

Jamie, the kids and I snacked all day. By dinnertime, I desperately wanted something light and healthy so opted to serve yogurt parfaits. I made granola for the first time, chopped strawberries and blueberries and let the children build their parfaits with their favorite yogurt.

They both loved it and couldn’t believe *this* was dinner.

As Hadley was polishing off her final bites, she exclaimed:

“Huh.”
“What, Hadley?” I queried.
“I just thought it was your job to make dinner I don’t like.”

Sad thing is she meant it as a compliment.

An Attitude of Gratitude

On Monday, I had one of those days. All of life’s stresses caught up with me and I was just plain tired. Tired of always getting volunteered and no one else stepping up. Frustrated at being forced to say “no” just to keep my head above water. Exhausted at feeling like I’m juggling so many things that I cannot possibly give them my all. Tired of my knee that has grown progressively worse and is on the cusp of rendering me incapable of doing the activities I love. Tired of Jamie’s 15-hour work days, of clients who don’t pay on time and feeling financially strapped again and again. For feeling like we are constantly working and yet never getting ahead.

It was the culmination of several months of spinning so furiously on an axis you could almost feel the whirl of the universe. And I just wanted it to stop.

I purposefully have nothing on my calendar this week. I went to lunch in Golden with some of my besties: Lisa, Eva and Jennefer. We grabbed sandwiches and sat overlooking Clear Creek. We talked about nothing and yet it meant everything. We strolled the path watching the remnants of summer slip into autumn’s free-spirited, golden-tinged magnificence.

That afternoon, I played with Bode–Candy Land, then Sorry. I marveled at his generosity to offer me his turn when I was losing, to always bolster me up when I was down. When Hadley came home from school she selflessly divulged all the details of her day. We read her new library books and for the first time, she did not resist doing her homework. We grilled burgers and ate outside. During dinner, I announced we were going to talk about gratitude for Family Home Evening.

Last weekend was our church’s semi-annual General Conference where our leaders gather to impart wisdom and inspiration to people all over the world. President Thomas S. Monson’s talk about gratitude struck a chord with me.

We can lift ourselves, and others as well, when we refuse to remain in the realm of negative thought and cultivate within our hearts an attitude of gratitude…If ingratitude is be numbered among the serious sins, then gratitude takes its place among the noblest of virtues. Someone has said that gratitude is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all others.

I asked everyone to go around the table and say two things for which they are grateful. In a sweet, fleeting moment (and without prompting), we all separately expressed our gratitude for our family, health and God’s beautiful creations–a reminder of what truly matters.

We played soccer with the kids as we watched the coral sun slip behind the cerulean mountains. The children grew stronger with each kick, their enthusiasm and laughter echoing into the night air. Soon, all that was above us was the deepness and vastness of an ebony sky.

That night as we snuggled in bed, we read about Mrs. Frizzle’s whimsical adventures in the Magic School Bus and Lehi’s dream about sharing the fruit from the Tree of Life with his family. Bode and Hadley marveled at every word. I felt charmed and blessed. President Monson:

My brothers and sisters, to express gratitude is gracious and honorable; to enact gratitude is generous and noble; but to live with gratitude ever in our hearts is to touch heaven.

That night, I finally felt it: the still in the spinning.

And heaven seemed just a little bit closer.

The party, the trip and the pumpkin (in that order)

The Party
October has kicked off in typical Canuck fashion: chaos. On Wednesday, I hosted a Mile High Mamas party at the Denver Museum of Nature & Science to showcase their new Amazon exhibit.

The Trip
Thursday and Friday, I flew to California courtesy of Nintendo for a focus group with some of their other ambassadors. While there, we got to preview Wii Party, a board-game-esque with over 80 hilarious mini-games. It’s such a hoot that I’ve resolved to buy two extra Wii remotes so our entire family can play it. I’m sure Bode will be first in line.

Well, except it doesn’t involve his beloved Mario.
(The ladies in attendance: Amber from Nintendo, Gwen Bell, me, Janet, Marsha, Sizzle, Denise, Julie, Tracey Clark, Justine, Nintendo staff.)

The Pumpkin
I arrived home around midnight on Friday and Saturday was the weigh-off for pumpkin #2. As much fun as it was to hang out in the hot sun for four hours last weekend, I told Jamie to call us when his pumpkin was close to being weighed. He did just that 45 minute prior so I loaded up the troops and headed way up north.

I underestimated the amount of time it would take to get there and that Jamie would actually have gas in his car (he had borrowed my SUV to haul the pumpkin).

Here’s the thing about my dearly beloved: the man enjoys driving with only 1/4 of a tank of gas. It literally drives me nuts whenever I borrow his car because I have to waste time to get gas.

Only this time, there was no time.

Jamie called when we were an hour into our drive and close to nowhere.

“Where are you? My pumpkin is about to be weighed”
“Stall them. We’re not close and I have to stop for gas.”
“If you stop for gas, you’ll miss the whole thing.”

Then panic set in. I was driving unfamiliar roads and Jamie had to talk me through the process. I had already showed the children my below-empty gauge and told them to say a little prayer so we wouldn’t run out of gas.

If it worked for the loaves and fishes, it could work for multiplying the properties of petroleum.

Bode started freaking out, chanting “GAS STATION GAS STATION” over and over.

We arrived (barely running on gas fumes) just as Jamie’s pumpkin was being loaded up. We raced out of the car, all the while muttering about the nightmare it was to get there. Who on earth would live in this forsaken place?

Amy of Crunchy Domestic Goddess, that’s who.

She lives just down the road, saw the sign for the giant pumpkin weigh-off and figured I would probably be there.

Sad but very true.

In the end, Jamie’s second pumpkin weighed in at a respectable 868 pounds and his buddy Pete set a new Colorado state record: 1,306 lbs.


Both impressive but not nearly as exciting as the build-up to get there.