During those weeks – when we had two kids home sick (each were home from school one day) and they all missed a day of school due to a family situation – a total of 115 pieces of paper were dumped onto the kitchen counter.

Among the items in the array of papers were: 18 pages (worksheets, info sheets, etc.) on rocks and minerals, several flyers about a school read-a-thon, two red flyers about a school fundraising event, the agenda for an upcoming school committee meeting, a short story written by The Eldest Boy entitled “A Man in Black” (about a teacher leading a double life) and a dozen pieces of paper which served as study guides about the colonial era.

The grand total of the pieces of paper sent home from school since the beginning of the school year: 1,260.

The promo for next week’s Valentine’s Day themed episode features Claire and Phil, married parents of three,  doing a little risque role playing to spice things up . . . with unexpected consequences. Enjoy.

What if, just for kicks, we stopped referring to the on-going harassment and humiliation of children — which interferes with their ability to function in school — as “bullying,” and, instead, started calling it what it really is, which is “harassment?”

After I read several pieces in today’s Boston Herald about children being subjected to physical and emotional harassment in school which left them feeling unsafe and unable to concentrate – along with school officials, by and large, not doing much to stop the behavior – I kept  wondering why it’s not simply called “harassment.” The word “bullying” seems insufficient. As does the word “teasing,” which I’ve also heard invoked to refer to this subject.

One Herald article, entitled “Bullied kids ‘helpless’ against attacks” started thusly:

“Hundreds of angry parents, worried teachers and even terrorized kids are reporting ugly episodes of brutal bullying at schools across Massachusetts as the heartwrenching case of Phoebe Prince continues to expose a painful nerve.

The abuse — detailed in e-mails and phone calls to the Herald – is emotionally jarring, often physical and spreading like a merciless virus in cyberspace.

Kids tell of being forced to drink toilet water, getting pummeled on the bus and seeing themselves ridiculed for all to see on Facebook.

. . . A Boston Latin High School parent said the bullying was so bad her son had to leave the elite school. A teacher on the South Shore said she’s sick over special-needs girls being photographed in the bathroom — only to learn it was all posted on Facebook.”

An accompanying Herald column, “Parents’ pleas fall on deaf ears,” painted a picture of parents feeling likewise helpless when it comes to putting an end to the harassment of their kids at the hands of their classmates:

“‘We told the school and the school did nothing.’

That’s the common refrain I’ve heard over and over since news broke of the apparent suicide of 15-year-old Phoebe Prince of South Hadley, who was relentlessly hounded by high school bullies.

Incredibly, her tormentors remain in class, protected by the school. Yet in conversations with parents and in more than 100 voice mails and e-mails, I learned that protecting bullies, not the bullied, is hardly unique to South Hadley. It’s now the rule in our schools.”

If the student victims were instead adult employees at a company being harassed by a peer, their supervisor would have to step in and stop the harasser from creating a hostile work environment or face a possible lawsuit. If one adult wouldn’t leave another one alone, a criminal restraining order could filed against the harasser. So why can’t the schools do more, like workplaces have done?

Item #2: ‘The Middle’s’ Mom Worries About Her Yelling

Yeah, yeah, yeah, we all know that the parenting “experts” love to tell us that we shouldn’t yell at our kids, that we’re supposed to have abundant patience, that we’re supposed to “talk” through things with our kids, to try in earnest to reason with irrational people.

Then there’s real life.

In the most recent episode of ABC’s The Middle, the mom (Patricia Heaton) decided that she yelled and nagged at her three children (two teens and a tween) too often. She decided she needed to reform her ways. No more yelling. No more nagging. She was going to trust her children to do what is right, to be responsible enough to complete their research papers on their own, to make arrangements for their own babysitting gigs and to figure out what they’re doing to do for Crazy Hat Day at school. Then reality intervened and the fictional kids proved that, as much as they claimed to hate her reminding them to get their stuff done on time, they actually needed their mom to do it. 

As for my kids, I’d let them feel the heat for forgetting their stuff — like the teen who didn’t get his research paper cover — and maybe they’d learn a lesson.

Item #3: Testing for Kindergarten

If you’re looking to be truly horrified, check out the cover story of this week’s New York Magazine, called, “The Myth of the Gifted Child: If a four-year-old aces an intelligence test, she is often set for life. Trouble is, that test is worthless.” It’s about people prepping — sometimes at great cost — their 4-year-olds in order to take tests on which entrance to kindergarten hinges.

An excerpt:

“. . .[I]n New York, it turns out that awful lot is still determined by a child’s 5th birthday. Nearly every selective elementary school in the city, whether it’s public or private, requires standardized exams for kindergarten admission, some giving them so much weight they won’t even consider applicants who score below the top 3 percent. If a child scores below this threshold, it hardly spells doom. But if a child manages to vault over it, and in turn gets into one of these selective schools, it can set him or her on a successful glide path for life.”

A test, when a kid’s still into Elmo, determining his or her lot in life? Seriously?

Things have been a bit chaotic over the past few days, what with some family drama (don’t ask), the never-ending slog of kids’ activities slowly sucking the life out of me, and trying to shoehorn actual work into the mix, never mind attending to volunteer efforts both The Spouse and I for some reason foolishly offered to do. Plus there was this fifth grade bread baking project we were supposed to complete over the weekend. The Girl actually completed the project on her own — with no help from her parents – but The Eldest Boy did not because, honestly, there was too much crap going on.

In the meantime, to make up for the lack of bloggy stuff, here are a few newsy items I’ve missed in the past few days:

– I had the pleasure of co-hosting the Manic Mommies podcast with Erin Kane last week. We talked about mid-season TV (Big Love, Lost, a bit of ranting about the current state of Grey’s Anatomy) and about our crazy kids’ activities (this was before family drama hit the Picket Fence Post household). You can download the podcast for free on iTunes, including where I called Erin by her co-host’s name, Kristin. Smooth move.

– It was with a heavy heart that I read the recent news stories about a teenage girl living in Massachusetts who committed suicide reportedly in the wake of cyberbullying. Adding to that was the fact that a local school district had an anti-bullying forum led by a Vermont father whose own 13-year-old son (two years younger than my twins) killed himself several years ago after he’d been bullied, and I’ve been wondering when the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is going to legally define bullying behavior with an anti-bullying law and when schools are going to start taking harassment seriously and not as a form of “conflict.” If sexual harassment in the workplace and acts which create a hostile workplace can be outlawed, certainly bullying/intimidating/humiliating harassment and acts which create a hostile learning environment should be as well.

– In a similar vein, the web site Parent Dish had a provocative post about parents who bully and name-call other parents online. Blogger Amy Hatch asked, “How can we teach our children be kind to one another when we can’t model that behavior in our own lives?”

– Completely changing subjects here . . . If you were among those who were once fond of watching Hope and Michael Steadman, Nancy and Elliot Weston, Ellyn Warren, Gary, Melissa and the crew from thirtysomething, you’ll be pleased to learn that season two of the 1980s/90s drama is now out on DVD. My Pop Culture column this week is about why, even though decades have passed since these episodes first aired, “. . . I can find no current TV dramas which capture the gloriously messy and stressful, day-to-day slog of child-rearing, work and marriage as deftly and incisively as this 21-year-old series did.” (As you can tell, “slog” was my preferred word of the week. . .)

Image credit: Dyna Moe/Nobody’s Sweetheart.

And wouldn’t you know that today happened to be the day when The Youngest Boy stayed home from school complaining of a constellation of vague symptoms. However because The Spouse was working from home, it wasn’t solely my duty to serve at the kid’s beck and call, fetching him beverages, snacks, lunch, blankets, etc.

Photo 1: The first image was taken when The Spouse (otherwise known as “Casty,” for the cast on his broken wrist) prepared to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for The Eldest Boy who was, per usual, running late for school and hadn’t packed a lunch yet.

Photo 2: Max, our 8-month-old puppy, sat at the door and watched The Girl go to the bus stop. (The Eldest Boy had to be driven to school earlier — by The Spouse — because he had before-school band practice.)

Photo 3: After the two eldest kids had gone to school, I commenced with my regular routine of reading the morning papers while listening to talk radio and enjoying a couple cups of coffee in the kitchen. On this particular morning, The Youngest Boy joined me at the table, still in his PJs, and drew pictures. (The Spouse took the photo.)

Photo 4: The Youngest Boy was sacked out on the living room sofa for the morning watching “educational” programming, otherwise known as the Cartoon Network.

Photo 5: I drove to my sister-in-law’s house nearby to drop off her birthday present. (The Spouse was home with the “sick” kid). It had just started snowing, but the roads weren’t bad. Yet.

Photo 6: The Girl — dressed for basketball practice — helped me prepare “breakfast for dinner:” pancakes, a tomato and egg omelet, bacon and home fries. She and The Spouse, her hoop coach, were able to join us for dinner before heading out to the gym.

Photo 7: I was left with this sink filled with delightfulness. At least the boys did feed Max and let him out, wiped down the kitchen table and helped me put the clean dishes in the dishwasher away.

As I was writing this blog item, the boys were playing in The Youngest Boy’s room with Max and (shockingly) not fighting, The Girl was cleaning herself up after her practice and The Spouse was out at a meeting.

That was my day. What’d you do with your day?

Yeah, yeah, I know . . . the Boston TV station which came up with this project designated January 25 as the official day to take and post “Day in the Life” Massachusetts photos, but I’ve decided to it’d be fun to take photos tomorrow and post a few snapshots on this blog from throughout the day that reflect an average day.

Image credit: Julia Spitz/Metrowest Daily News.

Take this week’s subject: The two grade-school aged girls — whose favorite pastime is mocking their mom’s lack of expertise in the domestic arena – have been forced to pick up the slack when it came to the laundry and preparing dinner, since their single (widowed) mom’s busy working and their grandmother, who had helped out around the house, is on an extended trip. The girls are finally going to get a taste of what it’s like to tackle the mundane and unglorified tasks of running a household. (I’ll bet the tuna surprise they’ve been making in the last two comic strips, with marshmallows and chocolate malted milk balls, will certainly surprise them when they dig into it. My hope is that, if they ruin the laundry and the dinner, that they’ll have a bit more respect for what their mom does for them. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

In the Picket Fence Post household, I’ve been trying to get the three kids (8, 11, 11) to be more comfortable with making meals as a way to help out. They prepare their own breakfasts on many school days — The Girl is confident enough to make pancakes and egg dishes — and they’re able to put together school lunches, though The Eldest Boy’s usually too slow moving in the mornings to prepare his lunch. The Spouse has also been trying to get them accustomed to doing the laundry and folding it.

Unfortunately, none of this has prevented The Ungratefuls from routinely kvetching about the dinners I make them. (Actually, that’s not fair. The Eldest Boy doesn’t usually complain and is a very good eater. One out of three ain’t bad I suppose.) However The Youngest Boy will drop to the kitchen floor and roll around in a fury, I’d estimate, roughly, 80 percent of the time when I inform him what I’m making for dinner. The Girl’s technique is to sit at the dinner table and eat nothing, fighting furiously with us if we try to coax her into taking just a bite out of dinner. (Last night, we had words when I tried to convince her to take a bite of the barbecued chicken, long grain rice and the baked butternut squash with pecans and brown sugar I’d prepared. You’d think I was trying to get her to eat beets or chicken livers.)

As of late, I’ve been declining to answer the question, “What’s for dinner?” I leave them on their own to deduce what I’m making, commence with their requisite griping and prepare for a bowl full of cereal for dinner.

Maybe it’ll work out better for the mom in Stone Soup.

Do your kids help out with laundry, making meals or other household chores?

Image credit: Stone Soup via Go Comics.

Included among the papers were: Four (count ‘em four) copies of the same solicitation for donations to Haiti earthquake relief, two invitations to a Noodle Night fundraiser, two solicitations for a notepad fundraiser, a newsletter from one of the school principals, a classroom newsletter from one of the teachers, 10 pages of worksheets and information about electric currents and circuits, copies of two Robert Frost poems (A Late Walk and Good Hours) that the fifth graders had to read aloud to me 12 times a piece for fluency homework and a notice about an event which is a “non-event” where families are encouraged to “unschedule” themselves and enjoy family time. . . that’s once they’ve unearthed themselves from the piles of paperwork.

The total number of papers brought home by the three kiddos (grades 3, 5 and 5) since The Paper Project began at the beginning of the school year: 1,145. (For background on The Paper Project, go here.)

Some folks who call themselves “The Gorgeous Geeks” have created a cartoonish video extolling the virtues of Sawyer, the fast-talking, nickname-giving con man with the shaggy mane of blonde hair:

Want to see a family-styled spoof? An Italian family from Long Island reenacted scenes from Lost’s previous seasons in someone’s house, mostly in the living room. The kids, the grandparents, everyone got involved . . . to amusing ends, with a little interruption from a Jets game. As I watched it, I thought that my kids would have a blast doing something like this: