More Tim

If I had to characterize Tim's attitude to life lately, it's lay low and get by. Today I looked over to see him slumped in his chair, lips roughly on the level with his plate, gently easing the rice over the ridge of the plate and straight into his mouth.

"Tim!" I said. "Sit up and eat with manners."

Since I'd noticed him already, he decided to take the opportunity to ask for more chicken (as Tim lovers know, he's fully capable of eating a whole one by himself). I said, "If you can eat the rest of your rice with perfect manners, you can have another piece of chicken."

Man! The kid is capable! After taking a few elegant bites, he said, "Mom, this is a lot of work."

Apparently he's decided that about prayers, too, because in the last few weeks he's pared down his prayer to a skimpy three thoughts, not one of which uses more than four words to express. Then he repeats. One night before nighttime prayers, I said, "Tim, I'd like you to really think about who you're talking to."

"No, Mom," he immediately replied, "I don't want to. That would make me feel very tiny."

I found a great blog (thanks to some friends) about the fate of kids in the paranoid old US of A. It couldn't express my thoughts more perfectly if I'd done all the research and writing myself. So if you're bugged by the fate of the modern day child who exists almost totally in an adult-mediated world, if you've ever wondered why we think it's safe to give a kid who has never walked across town the keys to the car at age 16, if you've ever sat through a discussion of the dangers of child rapists and kidnappers and wondered to yourself, How common is this stuff? How scared do I REALLY have to be?, head on over to free range kids. Be sure to check out the links farther down on the RH side for some thoughtful statistics.

Had a glorious ski day--last of the season and we had to use our free passes, so we skipped the WASL--on Friday, and I made a GREAT discovery! You don't have to ski to enjoy the trip. I didn't want to ski because a) I had no free pass, b) I had no equipment, and c) I'm a pleasant, slightly deconditioned woman in my forties who can clearly picture starting a response to inevitable questions like this: "Well, it was the last day of the season, and I hadn't skied much..."

So I spent the day on the slopes in my running shoes. It was GREAT!! And news for all you skiers: it's not really two miles from the lodge to the car, the stairs are incredibly shallow, and the bathroom is actually quite conveniently located. I spent part of the morning working in the lodge with two other pleasant, slightly deconditioned women in their forties and part of the morning being driven crazy by a bored Nigel. Then I got smart and put him in ski lessons. Jarad the ski instructor (with a snowboard coat but he skis, Mom) is now Nigel's best friend and Nige loves the "hand lift," where we spent the rest of the day with me lounging in a plastic chair waving to him as he endlessly rode up, skied down, rode up, skied down. Perfect day.