The Katie Chronicles: SpongeBob Exorcism, Part 3 Edition

I've become convinced that SpongeBob SquarePants is an evil demon capable of possessing children, or at least one of my children.  A year or so ago, we cautiously started to let Katie watch a little SpongeBob after she begged and begged and begged.  She had outgrown most of the programming for younger kids and Ethan had watched some of it with no negative outcomes, so we thought we'd give it a try.  After a few weeks, we noticed that Katie's behavior had declined.  We wondered about causes and thought, "Surely SpongeBob couldn't be causing this....right?" We tried banishing SpongeBob and, sure enough, Katie's behavior improved.   We let several months go by, tried SpongeBob again...and behavior went back down the drain.  (Keep in mind that nothing else had changed.  This is apparently the effect of one cartoon.)  Fast forward about six months.  Katie seemed to mature a lot over the summer and was getting in trouble less.  Two weeks ago, she even got "student of the week" for her grade for having very good behavior the first three weeks of school.  She got her picture put up with the other students of the week and everything.  Of course, we had a big celebration and, at her urging, we invited Mr. SquarePants back for a visit, thinking her newfound maturity would prevail.  And by now you can guess what's been happening the two weeks since she got all the acclaim and Voldesponge returned.  So we've performed another Spongedevil exorcism....and I think this time he may be going on a more permanent vacation.  

The Ethan Update: Birds and Bees Edition

When Ethan was three, I was pregnant with Katie.  One day while we were setting the table for dinner, he looked at me thoughtfully and then asked me, "How will the baby get out, T?" This was out of the blue so I had an "uhhh..." moment but Jerome jumped right in.  "Mommies have a special place where the baby comes out."  Ethan seemed content with that and life went on. Fast forward 7 years and it's time for the advanced course.  Ethan will soon be attending a program through his school on puberty and reproduction. For some reason, this program is offered out of Fernbank, the natural history museum in Atlanta.  (We have NO idea why they're the ones doing this.  Baby-making *is* natural and it's the reason why we have a history, I guess?  Jerome and I, in our infinite maturity, wondered if they somehow incorporate the huge T Rex skeleton and dinosaur exhibits that Fernbank is known for.  "And when daddy T Rex finds out mommy T Rex finally doesn't have a headache, he lights some candles, puts on some Barry White-asaurus and...").  Jerome thought he should prepare E Money for "the big day," so he explained the usual terms and processes.  Ethan listened incredulously and asked several questions. When he'd learned the whole story about what goes where, Ethan declared it "disgusting."  Then it came time for his good night call to his mom. She asked about his day and Ethan said his daddy told him about making babies. Then came another of his thoughtful pauses...and he asked her, "Do you and Bryan [his stepdad] HAVE to do THAT?"  Another pause ensued -- this one more aghast than thoughtful -- while Jerome gave himself a hernia stifling his guffaws.  Ethan's mom recovered gracefully.  "That's a private thing, Ethan."  Jerome texted her later: "You are welcome."  Her response: "Oy vey."  Oy vey, indeed.

The Katie Chronicles: Bad Guys Edition

One of the most difficult parts of parenting is helping kids understand that there are people in the world who hurt others intentionally. It's challenging to help those sweet, trusting little souls understand enough to make them reasonably cautious but not so much that they become anxious and paranoid.  Last night, Katie got up teary and unable to sleep because of hearing a dinner time discussion of one of Ethan's upcoming assignments about slavery.  So I did what we all do:  I took her back to bed and snuggled with her, talking through her fears and how we'd handle certain "bad guy" scenarios. I reassured her that she was safe in her home and that her daddy and I look out for her all the time. Then I went back in the living room and prayed: Please God...please let that always be true.