At What Age Should Children Get iPhones?

 

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This is what our kitchen phone looked like.

When I was young, we had a party line. It was a black telephone attached to the kitchen wall in our tiny house on Emerson Street in Snohomish, Washington. When you picked up the receiver to make a call, someone might be on the phone in another house, so you’d have to wait for the line to be clear before you could dial out.

Sometimes you could hear someone breathing lightly while you were talking. There were some nosy neighbors who listened in on calls, which was really bad manners. Trust me, my mom never did that and wouldn’t allow us to eavesdrop, either.

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This is a view from outside my hometown.

Long distance was a big deal. I’d hear my mom say, “You’re calling long distance?” when a family member or friend would call from across the state. Those calls would be super short. You wouldn’t waste a minute of that expensive time.

The idea of a cell phone that was a personal computer, camera, game center and internet was unthinkable back then. Oh, that’s right. We didn’t know what personal computers were. There was no internet. No digital cameras, either.

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An early car phone.

My kids didn’t grow up with cell phones and I’m glad. They missed out on the era of smartphones owned by young kids by just a few years. Their first phones were given to them before they went to Swim Camp at USC. They must have been 11 and 14 at the time and they were so excited to get their little pre-paid flip phones. We were at a meet at FAST the day we took them to camp and gave them the phones. My son used up his minutes texting to all his friends who owned phones before him. The silly thing is that he was texting to kids who were at the meet! And of course, the phone was meant to be used in case of emergency to reach mom and dad.

That’s what bugs me about phones. Kids would rather text each other than talk face to face. I’ve watched kids sitting under the tent at meets, looking down at their phones and not playing cards or games together. They are communicating with each other but through their devices. It’s just weird, don’t you think?

I wonder what impact it will have on the kids who are growing up with smartphones as young as first and second grades? Will it impede their ability to communicate in person? Is it changing how their brains work? I can’t wait for the studies to come out years from now about the generation raised with their phones attached like an extra appendage.

It reminds me of a Dean Koontz novel I read years ago where people were physically melding into their computers. Their fingers would melt into the keyboard and become permanently attached and cords would hook up to their bodies. I think the novel was called MIDNIGHT.

 

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My kids and teammates hanging out together at a meet–before iPhones.

There are a few good reasons to give your young children smartphones. But, I think there are more reasons against kids under 13 or 14 getting one. I heard a physician in Colorado has proposed a law banning children from having smartphones under age 13. But, how would you enforce that? I think it should be a parent’s decision and not up to the government.

 

Here are a few links to articles that discuss the pros and cons of kids and smartphones:

From the New York Times July 20, 2016:

“Common Sense Media polled 1,240 parents and children and found 50 percent of the children admitted that they were addicted to their smartphones. It also found that 66 percent of parents felt their children used mobile devices too much, and 52 percent of children agreed. About 36 percent of parents said they argued with their children daily about device use.”

10 Reasons Why You Shouldn’t Hand a Smartphone to Your Children

When Should You Get Your Kid A Phone
When did you give your children a smartphone? What are your thoughts about children and phones?

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What Matters Most: Times Together

18920581_10213697294890444_4649514921325596156_nThis past weekend, I was in mom heaven. My daughter was at a swim meet an hour away from where my son now lives. We didn’t do anything that special, we got to hang out together. It was one of my favorite weekends in recent memory.

At first, I was worried about how my daughter was going to do at the meet. She had already told us that due to other things going on in her life, her last few weeks of practice were not consistent at all.

I told her, “You can still get a best time and swim well.” 

She thought I was delirious. She was very realistic about what she could do at that point in time. I have to admit that after her first race, I got it. I relaxed about the times and understood that this meet was about being together as a family. It was a small slice of time where we could hang out and enjoy each other’s company. If I had been focused on her times and upset that she wasn’t at her peak fitness, I’d have been so disappointed. Instead, I reflected on being the mom of two almost grown kids that I’m so proud of. And, the fact that they enjoy being with me and each other.18920513_10213697294250428_7072346138704993087_n

While we were driving around town, the kids were in the back seat pretending to be little kids elbowing each other. I turned around from the front passenger seat and said, “Children, there’s an imaginary line going down the middle of the car. You can’t cross that line!”

My daughter immediately yelled out, “Mom, Robert crossed the line!”

Later, after fits of laughter, we hung out together in a park, lying on the grass and staring at the green leaves and blue sky.18835878_10213697294490434_3338216834463049598_n

We shared books, ideas and meals. My son’s vocabulary had us looking up new words and trying to memorize and pronounce them, like “primogeniture.” One of my kids favorite things to do was to copy our faces. My son does an imitation of me, while Kat has perfected her dad’s scowl. It always ended in a burst of laughter and fits of giggles.

The swim meet was exciting with a who’s who in the swimming world in the final heats. I witnessed amazing races and the international flavor was so hopeful and invigorating with countries in attendance including Argentina, Mexico, Japan and China.

It may be the last time we’ll be staying in a hotel with our daughter at a meet. Ever. Her final college season is ahead this fall and she’ll be with her team, not us. I was a little teary-eyed when the weekend flew by and it was time for me to return again to my empty nest.IMG_7880

What Have I Done Now? Or, Why Did I Sign Up for Masters Nationals?

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US Masters Meet in January at our Palm Springs pool.

 

In a little less than two weeks, I’ll be swimming in another meet. This one will be my second meet in my two-year swim career. I attended a meet a few months ago, but right before it was my turn on the blocks, the pool was closed. The transformer was hit during an accident and the power to the pool went out. I haven’t decided whether that was a good thing or not that I didn’t have to dive off the blocks and swim.

This time is a little more frightening because of the name of the meet: US Masters Nationals. Yes, I said NATIONALS! Six swimmers from our Piranha Masters have signed up and I get nervous when I think about it. There are more than 2,000 attending.

My coach says not to think about it, but just show up and swim.

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My daughter at a swim meet with her best friend and coach.

 

I made the mistake of looking at the psych sheets and names like RYAN LOCHTE and NATHAN ADRIAN popped out at me! Who do I think I am to be signed up for this meet? I’m seeded dead last in my events by a lot—in my age group. However, there are swimmers ages 18 to 95, so maybe I should focus on picking off the swimmers 90 and above.

Swimming at this meet does make me more than anxious, so I have to remember what I would tell my kids and other swim parents:

ONE
Don’t worry about other people’s times. That’s right. I cannot control the fact that my friend Bonnie is 20 seconds faster than me in the 50 free. Yes, 20 SECONDS!

TWO
Relax and have fun. Yes, I’ll have so much fun with all my friends and watch great swimmers. I don’t want to freeze or panic in the middle of my 50 free and have to be dragged out of the pool. That would not be fun.

THREE
Try your best. I’ve put in the hard work. I’ve made it to practice for more than a year since my first meet. I can flip turn and dive off the blocks without hitting the bottom of the pool. I can do this. 

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My son (front) with swim buddies at a meet having fun.

P.S. My daughter, who’s a swimmer in college, will be home that weekend. She told me she plans on driving me to the meet, will stand at the blocks holding my towel, and will make sure I talk to our head coach Jeff Conwell before and after each event! Somehow, I think she’s looking forward to this more than I am!

 

Farewell Old Car, Your Time Has Come

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Memories of days filled with laughter.

The final straw was a couple weeks ago when I woke up in the morning to a flat tire. I called Triple A and had them put on the spare. I was driving the puppy to a vet appointment and then to the gas station to get my flat tire fixed, when the tire fell off the car and flew across the road, dodging two oncoming cars and landing in an unsuspecting yard.

I freaked out to a grinding and dramatic crashing noise. I was stranded on the side of the road with a three-month-old pug. I shook as I assessed my predicament and wondered what to do first. Waffles the pug snored in his carrier, oblivious to the freak accident and my stress.

That was the final straw. There have been a few others, like my husband being stuck on the 91 freeway, right before the 241 toll road, when the car broke down. Triple A had a tough time sending out a tow truck, because drivers refused due to the recent death of a tow truck driver in the same spot.

In the later years of owning a car, sometimes it’s tough to make the call when enough is enough. Car buying is almost as painful as anything and expensive, so it’s easy to put it off for a few years.

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Laguna Beach with kids and dog.

Especially with this car. There were so many memories with the beastly Sequoia. Hauling pop-up tents and kids to meets stand out the most. We could put six kids comfortably in our car and often did.  Summer vacation with the car packed to the hilt, complete with 108-pound Angus, our faithful yellow lab (RIP), camping trips, driving a carful to the Getty for a Latin field trip—the list goes on and on.

We have no need for an eight seater. We aren’t hauling pop up tents or children to meets. We’re now in the phase of life where a two-door would be fine. But it’s like closing the door on one part of our lives. When we finally say goodbye to this old car, it’s like we’re saying goodbye to days filled with so much fun and laughter.

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Carpinteria camping trip with Angus.

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This old car is filled with memories.

It’s a puppy thing

 

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Waffles, our 12-week old pug.

I think we bit off more than we can chew! We thought it would be nice for our daughter to have a companion in the form of an animal. She’s out of state in college and busy with academics plus D1 swimming, and for some hair-brained reason, we thought a puppy would bring a lot of joy and fun into her daily life.

She asked permission of her landlord, and even though her lease says “no pets,” he agreed to a small dog. We decided the puppy would be a present for Christmas.

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Waffles turns into a pancake when I try to walk him.

 

 

Our daughter wanted a pug and thinks they are so cute. They are. I’ll agree to that. We looked into suitable breeds, and besides the two negatives of snoring and shedding, pugs appear to be an easy going breed requiring very little care.

But the puppy thing. I’m on day five and I think puppy is winning the battle. It’s like having an infant again. I have to watch him constantly. He doesn’t sleep through the night, and when he’s crawling on his belly through the yard, I never know what is going to end up in his mouth. I knew we were in for trouble when we drove Waffles home for an hour and a half drive. He was squirming all the way, nipping and licking my neck and fingers. Finally, as we drove into town he fell asleep. That’s what my son would do in his car seat during long drives.

I’m crate training, potty training and my daily life suddenly got very busy and tiring. Why we think our daughter can handle this is beyond me. Of course, she does have youth on her side. And Waffles is so darn cute!

 

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Olive the cat is not sure about any of this. What did we do???

 

Is it worth it to DIY? Or, how I almost burned the house down…

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A burst of creativity.

A friend told me the other day, “You could do that yourself.”

I was asking her if she knew anyone who could refinish my butcher block countertops. I hadn’t thought about doing it myself for more than a fleeting moment. Could I? I watched a youtube and called her back.

“I think I could do it myself, but I don’t have the power sanders. I’d have to buy them and all the other stuff—and if I did that, I might as well hire someone else to do it.”

“I have sanders and I’ll loan them to you,” she replied.

That settled it. I decided to go for the first of about 20 trips to our local hardware store and start the process assembling things to begin stripping, sanding, staining and lacquering my kitchen counters. We have a small kitchen, so the project didn’t look too overwhelming–when I began.

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All finished!

It was more work than I expected, I admit. Many trips to the hardware store—“where everyone knows my name…” Yes, they were calling me by my first and last name after a few days and it reminded me of this song from Cheers:

“Where everybody knows your name
and they’re always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see,
the troubles are all the same.
you wanna be where everybody knows your name…”

The problem started when I asked my husband for help. I nagged him into adding a second coat of stain one night after he came home from work. Bad idea. 

The next morning we woke up to a gooey mess. The first coat of stain apparently didn’t dry all the way, and the second coat didn’t soak in–and he didn’t know that you ‘brush it on against the grain and wipe it off with the grain.’

Thank goodness for Google. I found numerous youtubes and sites on how to fix it—or basically start over. I needed to find something called “mineral spirits” to wipe off the mess and then re-sand. My buddies at the hardware store informed me that mineral spirits are illegal in our area and they sold me some paint thinner.

In the garage, I had been practicing each step on an old nightstand of my husband’s grandmother. 

Here’s the biggest mistake I made in the process:

I tossed a pile of rags soaked with paint thinner on the old nightstand.

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The next day, I could smell a faint burning odor like a distant fire. I was done with my counters and I began to put away my supplies. I thought, I need to throw away those old rags. Lo and behold there were no rags! Instead was a pile of charcoal that reminded me of the “snakes” we’d get for 4th of July when I was a kid. Also, there was a long metal object on top, which I finally recognized as a large flathead screwdriver without a trace of its hard plastic handle. I had used it to open the can of stain. After I removed the black charcoal smoldering rags I poured water on the smoldering nightstand, which was by the way, directly under the dry rough wood of the garage.

I almost burnt the house down—by doing a simple DIY project. Who knew that rags soaked in paint thinner could combust? Not me.

My next project, after the kitchen counters, was to salvage the nightstand. After all, it had belonged to Granny. Except for a little lingering smell of charcoal, I think it’s a keeper.

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He’s Going to Be Okay

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Sunset in Berkeley during our weekend visit.

 

My son officially finished his undergrad degree in August. It was a long haul and never as easy as I had imagined for him. I looked at college as some of the best years of my life. I imagined my son would love college, too. But it wasn’t all great. In fact, some of it was downright ugly. But, the good news is he made it. He officially has his undergrad degree.

Now what? We visited him in his new home in Norcal and I can say, although I think he’s way too far from home, it was a perfect weekend. The weather, the food, the girlfriend, the apartment—everything was perfect. I say that with pride and relief. After this weekend, I know my son is going to make it as an adult. As a mom, I’ve done my job. I’m proud and happy.

Is my job done? I’m not sure. Is a parent’s job ever done?

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When my son rode the “Snow White Pony” Thursday nights at Street Fair.

My son’s degree and career choices have been hotly debated between my husband and me. I have total confidence that my son will find his way, and I agree with my husband that he hasn’t made all the exact choices that we would have in his place. In the end, It’s his life and it’s up to him to live it—not us.

We can’t tell him what to do, what jobs or careers to follow. We can encourage and express our pride in what a great person he’s become. I am truly proud of my son.

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Father and son at Crissy Field during our perfect weekend.