Life Lesson: Mom, Every Person is Important

It all started with a book.

Book cover of Americana
It’s a book about the USA, written about men, by a men, for men!

The other night, we read the book, “Americana Advenure” by Michael Garland. It’s an interesting book, and it held MaM’s attention for several read throughs. There are things to find, illustrations to ponder and quotations galore.

After reading it, MaM asked why I reading over the back page, which listed all of the quotations in the book.

“I’m looking through the quotations to see if there are any by women.”

“Mom, there won’t be any, there aren’t any women presidents.”

“I know, but not all the quotations are by presidents. Oh look, ‘Independence is happiness, by Susan B. Anthony.”

“She was a president?”

“No, but she worked really hard so that women could vote.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, when Great Grandma was a little girl, women weren’t allowed to vote. Men didn’t think their votes were important.”

She got a look on her face, and said earnestly, as only a seven year old can, “Mom, every person is important. Why didn’t the men think the women were important?”

“Well, that’s just how things were. So Susan and her friends started protesting, and holding up signs, and working hard to get the government to understand that the women should be voting too.”

“Well I don’t know why the men were being mean the the women. I think those boys need to be taught a lesson.”

MaM and my grandma, circa 2010

My grandmother was exactly the age my daughter is now when her mother was granted the right to vote. Nearly 100 years later, the book Americana features exactly one quote by a woman.

I find it hard to accept that this is the world we live in. I mean, really.

Here’s my hope: in ninety years, when her great grandchildren are reading books about America, I hope the women are better represented. It’s not that they’re not accomplishing things, it’s that they’re not being recognized. My hope is that my daughter’s generation will change that. After all, and I quote, “Mom, every person is important.”  

An Ode to Summer 2012

This summer MaM has been obessed with the theme song from Phineas and Ferb. Perhaps you are familiar.

“There’s a hundred and four days of summer vacation, and school comes along just to end it. So the the annual problem of our generation is finding a good way to spend it…”

We didn’t build a rocket ship or find a mummy, but we did do some pretty great things.

It all started on the last day of school. We checked out Hot Wheels for Real at the Children’s Museum of Indianapolis, and we really haven’t sat still since.

We had a full week of Sky VBS at the beginning of June. For the record, the CD is still playing in the car.

We got to play in Lucas Oil Stadium with friends, and we even made the JumboTron.

We enjoyed a picnic and Indians Game at Victory Field.

We road tripped to Atlanta to be with friends, and had a splendid time.  We bought our National Parks Passport, and got our first stamp at the National Historic Site, the Birthplace of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

On the way home, we visited Rock City (and yes, I got a mini birdhouse).

Randomly, MaM and I had the opportunity to see Quidam by Cirque De Soliel when they rolled through town.

We watched the big Fourth of July Fireworks in downtown Indy with friends on the top of one of the taller buildings.

We’ve cooled off at Conner Prairie’s RIver Crossing on numerous occasions.

We managed to pick the perfect day for a picnic at 100 Acres (at the IMA).

 

We had a fun visti with cousins, and the Fox REALLY liked our visit to Sahm Aquatic Center with them.

This is the first summer that the kids actually earned all 600 points in the library reading program.

We celebrated MaM’s 7th birthday at the Waterpark at the Monon Center.

We did a $2 Tuesday at the Indiana State Fair, and I have to say, it was awesome.

Any time we weren’t out and about, you could find us at the pool down the street. Because let’s face it, this summer was HOT. This is the summer that the Fox found his sea legs and absolutely LOVED the pool.

Summer of 2012: The Summer We Did Stuff.

And I’d do it all again in a heartbeat. I have no idea how much my children will remember this summer, but I think I always will. THANK YOU, my girl and boy, for making this one of my greatest summers ever!

And Now He is Four

It’s been a whirlwind week at the Kahuna house- last weekend we made it as far north as Milwaukee. This morning I’m writing this from Atlanta.

In between all of the travel, the Fox turned FOUR. FOUR I say!

One of his favorite things at the Children’s Museum, the Rube Goldberg machine.

He’s all about good guys and bad guys, fast cars and high flying planes. He climbs. He jumps in to the pool. Anything MaM can do? He attempts to do.

He’s our family early bird, and every day, when he realizes he’s the first one awake, he wakes me up and says, “I’m the early bird, Mom!” to let me know.

He’s been planning his birthday for a long time, and at some point, I told him we’d spend this birthday in Atlanta, at a hotel, with a pool, and we’d get a cake for him (I mean, you have to have birthday cake, right?).

As the June calendar filled up, it turns out, we celebrated with Grandma and Grandpa last Saturday, with cake.

Then the babysitter had a party for him on Wednesday, with cake.

Then at home, on Wednesday, we celebrated with cupcakes and presents.

Thursday, as we were driving south he asked, “Is my cake at the hotel?”

Really kid, you feel like you need more cake? (We went to a birthday party last Friday and had cake, had cake for him Saturday, and had cupcakes Sunday at my niece’s baptism)

Thursday we checked in, met up with friends and the kids got in the pool. We ordered in pizza, and by 8pm, he’d falled fast asleep on the couch, with no mention of cake. I thought we were officially done with his birthday. 

Heh.

Friday morning, right after exclaiming he was the early bird, he asked, “Am I getting my cake today?”

Huh. Um, buddy, I don’t know.

Driving in the car to The King Center, he asked, “Is my cake in Downtown Atlanta?”

Driving to dinner last night, “Is my cake at this restaurant?”

Thankfully, Gigi’s cupcakes was three doors down from the restaurant. I verified that a cupcake would count, and that this, indeed, would be his LAST birthday cake until he was five.

He concurred.

And really enjoyed that long-awaited birthday cake in Atlanta.

Happy, Happy Birthday, my sweet, sweet boy. May you always be so relentless in getting what you have your mindset to!