Holden: 13 Years (Bar Mitzvah!)

For this year's Holden Birthday Newsletter, we are following his bar mitzvah Earth Day theme and recycling the speech we read to him during the service.

(D)

Holden: Last month, Cantor Stacey called me out of the blue for no other reason than to gush about you. She was impressed by how “engaged” you were with your studies, and said you were both “interested” and “interesting.” While she’s certainly not the first of your teachers to stop me in my tracks to tell me how much they enjoy teaching you, this felt especially great. We have watched you work so hard over the years, and especially this past year, on becoming a bar mitzvah. The way you have taken on more than is expected and dedicated yourself, and your time, to studying makes us so proud.

(K)

Being proud of you is not an unusual feeling. As we’ve watched you grow, we are continually amazed by so many things about you. You’ve always worked so hard in school, earning a spot on the Honor Roll every semester in middle school. You’ve fostered fantastic friendships as evidenced by all of your friends here today. You’ve discovered a love for the outdoors with hiking, camping, rock climbing, biking and skiing. You are a trusted teammate, whether it’s in the classroom or on the soccer field. You’ve got an incredible love for your brother. You work hard to include him and to teach him important life lessons. And you’ve got determination. You’ve realized that things don’t always go your way and while you may get down for a little bit, you bounce right back trying harder than ever.

(D)

You are funny in both the goofy boy way, but also in a more grown-up, sarcastic and, occasionally, inappropriate way that we enjoy probably more than we should.You care a whole lot about your friends and your family, and you understand the importance of community connection. You are giving of your time and dedicated to helping others, as we’ve seen in your involvement with the Associated Student Body at school and willingness to volunteer at Temple. You are kind and compassionate, as shown through your Mitzvah Project helping animals at the spcaLA shelter.

(K)

It’s amazing how we held a newborn baby in our arms for the first time and it was like looking at a blank first page in a thick book of many unwritten chapters. Of course, we had our hopes and dreams for you. We looked at you and wondered: Will he be kind? Will he be smart? Will he be handsome like his father? And we worked hard every day from there trying to make you healthy, successful and happy. It’s a difficult and frustrating job, but we see now, looking at you standing here as a man, that it is possible.

(D)

You’ve come so far from that screaming baby who never wanted to be put down. All our wishes for you so far have come to be. But there is so much more ahead. So many unknowns. So many temptations. So many opportunities to veer off course from your studies or your connections to Judaism or your community. We have many more wishes for you, Holden.

 (K)

We wish for you to be bold and brave.

(D)

We wish for you to be full of love, joy and kindness.

(K)

We wish for you to discover your dreams, and follow them.

(D)

We wish for you to carry with you always the perseverance and the spirit of the generations that came before you.

(K)

We wish for you to never, ever forget that, no matter what life throws at you, we are there with you always.

(D)

We wish for you to always know how proud we are of you and how much we love you.

Questions

I've been doing this parenting thing for a dozen years now and, but I still have questions I haven't been able to answer yet. Many of these might be boy-related, but not sure:

1. At what age do kids finally stop interrupting you?

2. At what age do kids learn table manners?

3. At what age are kids when their parents are guaranteed to sleep through the night?

4. At what age do they put their stuff away without being ordered to?

5. At what age will they eat without there being crumbs all over the table and floor?

6. At what age do they clip their own nails?

7. At what age do they care whether or not their nails are clipped?

8. At what age do they care about what they look like?

9. At what age do they stop using their shirts as napkins?

10. At what age do they brush their teeth enough?

11. At what age do they learn to take their clothes off without turning them inside out?

12. At what age do they check their pockets before putting their clothes in the hamper?

13. At what age do they actually put all their dirty clothes in the hamper and not on the floor near the hamper?

14. At what age do they hang up their shirts properly?

15. At what age will they reliably wash their hands after using the restroom?

16. At what age will they stop leaving dirty socks in the living room?

17. At what age will they stop dumping dirt, grass and turf rubber on the floor when they take off their shoes?

18. At what age will they stop touching car windows with their fingers?

19. At what age will "clearing the table" mean more than the plate, fork and cup they used?

20. At what age will they consistently get everything in the toilet?

21. At what age does getting a task done involve getting the entire task done?

22. At what age do we stop fighting over food - especially food that was once loved, but now on the "hate" list?

23. At what age will wrestling stop being fun?

24. At what age will they reliably brush their teeth, and not lie about doing so?

25. At what age will the default reply to "who did this?" Stop being "not me."?

Dear The Boy Scouts of America,

Boy Scouts of America

1325 Walnut Hill Lane

P.O. Box 152079

Irving, Texas 75015-2079

Wayne Perry

National President

Boy Scouts of America

CEO Shotgun Creek Investments

P.O. Box 998
Bellevue, WA 98009

Los Angeles Area Council

2333 Scout Way

Los Angeles, CA 90026

Aug. 23, 2012

Dear Mr. Perry,

When we explained to our 8-year-old son, Holden, a Cub Scout of two years, that the Boy Scouts of America would not allow gay scouts or parent volunteers to participate, he looked really confused. “That’s not very Scout-like,” he said.

Indeed. In Cub Scouts, Holden learned a lot about giving back to the community and being a good citizen. He loves the Scouts, especially his friends and leaders in Den 6, Pack 788 in Redondo Beach.

So, last night, when, after weeks of reflection and discussions, we finally decided that the Scouts is not an organization that’s right for our family, Holden was understandably sad. His younger brother, Riley, who has looked forward to his chance to be a Cub Scout this year after two years of being on the sidelines, cried upon learning he’d never wear the coveted blue uniform and scarf.

Telling your children they can’t do an activity that they love is heartbreaking. But we know this decision is right when we think about all the other boys and their parents who are being told, or will be told, by BSA that they don’t belong. We stand by those boys and their families by saying we don’t belong, either.

We recognize that the BSA, as a private organization, has the right to make its own membership rules. As we explained to our boys, we have the right to decide if an organization with exclusionary, intolerant and bigoted policies is the right place for us. We’ve grappled if it would be better for us to leave in a show of support of the LGBT families in our community and across the nation, or to stay and work toward change from within. In the end, we decided our message to our children and our community would be stronger if we removed ourselves.

We appreciate the willingness of our local Den and Pack leaders to discuss the policy. We believe all of them disagree with the rule, but understand their decision to carry on, so as to not jeopardize the involvement of the other families in our Pack. There are many reasons to stay in the Scouts, and we respect other families’ decisions to do so. We just could not align ourselves with an organization that does not treat everyone equally, as they should be.

Best,

Denise Nix                 Kevin Nix

Conversations From the Heart

After yet another particularly bad day at school for Riley:

Riley: "Mama, you're the best."

Mama: "I'm not so sure, Riley."

Riley: "Why?"

Mama: "Because, I have to think, if I were really 'the best' Mama, you wouldn't be having so many problems at school."

Riley's eyes well up with tears and his bottom lip comes out.

Riley: "Don't say that! That makes me sad!"

Mama: "Why does it make you sad?"

Riley: "Because you are the best and you make me sad when you say that."

Mama realizes what Riley means is that he feels bad that his behavior causes so much worry and stress, and that, in his own way, he is saying I shouldn't blame myself.

Mama hugs Riley big.

Mama: "You're right, Riley. I shouldn't have said that. I am sorry. I don't want you to be sad. You are a good, sweet and loving boy. I just get frustrated that you have such a hard time controlling that little bit of you that causes trouble."

Riley hugs Mama big.

Riley, "Mama, you're the best."

Making Kitsch Hip

We have a lot of very, very talented friends who make the most magical, fun and whimsical baked goods you've ever seen (I'm talking to you Jami, Jenn and Nanette.) They are part of burgeoning movement to make food interesting. I so admire them, and people like them, who bring design and creativity into the kitchen.

I am not, however, one of those people.

Not that I completely lack creativity. I can write with flair sometimes. I feel I have a pretty good eye for photography. It's just that, in the kitchen, I'm lucky if I haven't completely messed up the recipe and used all the ingredients correctly. But when it comes to food appearance, I've never had the patience nor the talent to get the "wow" that my friends and so many others get with their creations. And there are so many people out there making food look amazing. I know, because they all post pictures of their masterpieces all over the Internet, leaving people like me wondering if I'm the only one who can't swirl frosting or work with fondant.

But, despite the bazillions posting all over Twitter, Facebook and, now, Pinterest ... I have to believe I am actually in the majority. There must be many more people like me quietly keeping their kids' birthday cake photos to themselves, lest they be shamed by comparison on the Internets. So, here's what I'm thinking: we all start posting photos of our truly-homemade-like-our moms-used-to-make cakes and cupcakes and start our own trend. Kitsch becomes trendy, in an ironic hipster sort of way!

I'll go first. Here's the rock climbing cake I made for Holden's 8th birthday party. I used candy rocks and licorice to mimic the climbing wall theme of his party. I knew I couldn't possibly use icing to get the letters to look good, so I went ahead and bought the pre-made candied ones. It's covered with (gasp!) store-bought frosting. There, I've admitted it.

Who's with me?

I'll Let You Fall, But I Will Be There to Help You Back Up

As a parent, you often embark on "family fun" outings knowing full well that the likelihood of actual family fun is slim to none. The kids aren't excited about the adventure. They whine all the way there. You set your expectations way, way low.

That was us, earlier today, when we announced we would be going ice skating. We bought a Groupon to the Toyota Center (where the Kings practice) a while ago, and wanted to use it. We figured, if we at least got them on the ice before the melt downs started, we'd call that a "win."

Then, it became one of those days where your expectations were far exceeded. Not only did the kids have fun, but they did well! They started out clinging to us but, by the end, they were skating on their own ... and still smiling despite lots of falls. Holden got the hang of it pretty quick, and continues to awe me with his athletic abilities. After a short time, we were merely just there to lend a hand to help him up, brush off the ice and send him back on his way. Riley stayed close to the boards, but liked skating on his own to us.

As we went round and round with the crowd of pink-cheeked kids and their families, pop music blaring, I kept thinking about how ice skating is a lot like parenting: I'll let you fall, but I will be there to help you back up.

Catching Up With the Nixes

Hi! Yeah, I know. Sorry. What can we say?

Life is pretty busy, but it's time to play catch up with a quick update on what's happening with The Nixes so far in 2011.

We've been missing our friend Anthony, who came home with us a couple nights a week while his parents fought traffic. They're moving to Florida pretty soon and his mom his home now. We loved having him around and he was like a part of the family. He played great with the boys and was especially sweet to Riley.

The boys have Hands on Art at school, and Kevin and I have been lucky enough to occasionally volunteer. Here's Holden doing water color, along with his teacher, Mrs. Laster, and his frenemy, Tora:

The Pinewood Derby race was in January and Holden's car was the fastest of all the Tiger Scouts. He'll be going on to another competition.

On a beautiful January day, Kevin took the boys for a hike in Rancho Palos Verdes, near the Terrenea Resort. A highlight, of course, was throwing rocks into the ocean:


The boys were invited to the Build-a-Bear Workshop in Downtown Disney for their friend Hunter's 4th birthday. Riley and Hunter are in school together, as are Holden and Hunter's big brother, Spencer. They are also in Boy Scouts and played on the same soccer team in the fall.

Riley and the Birthday Boy with their new buddies:

My Book Club keeps multiplying! We threw a shower for Julie a couple weeks ago, who is expecting a girl. So glad that, even though none of us really has time for books these days, we still have time for each other:

As most of you know, I started a new job at First 5 LA about six months ago. Part of my duties is to write entries for the blog on our parenting website Ready. Set. Grow! The idea over there is to be educational and informative, so I've been spinning some of our tales over there as "Double Duty Mama." You can check out some recent ones here:

Taking Your Kid to the Dentist? Set Your Expectations Low

Oral Health Care for Young Children: What Dentists Don't Tell You

Is Your Kid a Jerk? You're Not Alone

One Step Forward, Two Steps Back

Here's how Day Two of the Happy Face M&M Behavior Modification Program went:

Kind of a mixed bag, huh? Yay! Riley didn't hit! Shit! He almost bit!

Then, things continued downhill. Sitting in court this morning, I looked down at my quietly vibrating phone to see those dreaded words: "Washington CDC."

I ran out to the hallway. "Hi, Mrs. Nix? It's Gary Winning. I have Riley in my office ..." You know how the rest of that goes.

A police officer friend I know offered this advice: sign him up for a martial arts type class so he could better learn to channel his aggression. Yeah, I'm sure that will help. I'm sure it will only help him learn how to hit better, and who needs that?

No Don't Stop

Been home about an hour now. Here's tonight's tally, so far:

Number of times we've said "No" --> 57
Number of times we've said "Don't" --> 35
Number of times we've said "Stop" --> 22

Seriously? Seriously.

Because we are such conscientious parents who read all the parenting advice and listen to the parenting gurus and discuss parenting topics with all those parenting experts, we decided to try a new approach to tackling one of our most serious discipline problems. Riley? Yeah, he hits. Everybody. Everyday. Of course, we're totally glad he doesn't bite. Cause that would suck. Phew. But the hitting has got to stop.

I can't even describe for you the dread that shoots through every nerve in my body when my cell phone rings during the day and I see the words "Washington CDC." I swear out loud, then I answer the phone in the most trepidatious of voices. "Hello?" Yesterday, it was one of those calls.

"Mrs. Nix? This is Gary Winning, the director at Washington CDC? I'm calling about Riley."

Of course he is.

The school wanted me to come get Riley and take him home for hitting one friend and two teachers. It was 9 a.m. on his second day of school after nearly two weeks off. I sighed. "I understand," I said. "But I think that Riley would be thrilled to spend the day at home with mom, and can we figure out a way to not reward him for bad behavior?"

I went to the school and spoke sternly to the wiggly boy who knows all the rules forwards and backwards, but can't follow them. He didn't cry. I, of course, did. Which isn't embarrassing at all. Spent the next 45 minutes brainstorming (read: whining) with his teachers as he happily played with the little boy he smacked in the face over a coveted orange dinosaur only minutes before.

We decided to try a bribery, er, reward system. I brought happy face stickers and a special "R for Riley" notepad to school this morning. The deal is: No hitting = happy face sticker on a note from his teacher = M&Ms!! Wow! What a great idea! This will TOTALLY work.

It totally didn't.

Not only did Riley hit a friend, he lied about it, too. He seemed sad that he wouldn't get the M&Ms we so temptingly placed out in the open in a glass jar. But when Holden got his M&Ms for the night, Riley barely batted an eye. Not even a pouty lower lip. It didn't seem to hurt at all.

Epic. Fail.

New Kids on the Block

It seems like about once a year, it rains babies. In the last couple months, there's been this one, and this one and then this one. We are very very lucky in that that first one, Sidney, lives about 15 steps from our front door. And her parents are kind enough to let me come over pretty often to take in her sweet baby smell and kiss her soft head. We eye each other's kids with a bit of envy. Linda has admitted that she sees Holden and Riley and all they do and can't help but wish Sidney were a bit older – out of that newborn fog, laughing and running. Meanwhile, I look at her baby and think back on some moments I'll always remember, but will never relive again: Napping with Riley for three hours in the morning on the couch, watching them kick kick kick with glee at the water in their sink baths or the little coos they make when nursing in the still of the night.

Now, everything is so big-kid oriented. We even gave Grant our Pack 'n Play, marking the final finale of our crib days. I can't remember the last time I changed a diaper. Our sippy cups sit unused, taking up space in the cupboard.

Riley informed me a couple weeks ago that I'm to no longer give a “boop” on his nose with the toothbrush after brushing his teeth. “I'm three now,” he said. After a boopless tooth brushing, he runs to his room where he takes his clothes off by himself and puts on his pajamas mostly without help (shirts are hard!).

Holden, who plays soccer with that concentrated determination I remember seeing in the boys I grew up with, gets completely dressed and undressed by himself. Yesterday, he came inside after school and realized he forgot his backpack in the car. Gone are the days where I'd sigh and retreat back to the garage to fetch it for him. What did I do? I handed him the car keys. I. Handed. Him. The. Car. Keys. And without an ounce of hesitation or whines of “I caaaaan't,” he went into the garage, unlocked the car, got his backpack, LOCKED the car, and came back up. Whaaa?

We still struggle with our expectations of each other. We still expect them to not yell, run, roll around on the floor and jump off the furniture during a quick errand to the mall. They still expect us to drop everything and anything to respond to their needs RIGHT NOW.

While I still catch myself thinking wistfully of the future and how great it will be when they're more independent and reasonable, I look back at all these newborns and see how far we've come. Those babies are damn cute. But I still find the cute in my long-limbed boys, scooting around on the floor with their fire trucks, planes and race cars while making up elaborate stories about flying to outer space. It makes me smile when they play so nicely and creatively together, for remarkably long periods of time. They may not always need me anymore, but I'll always need them.

Kindergarten: The Beginning of the Beginning

I feel like there should be something really profound to express here about Holden's first day of kindergarten. But I've got nothing. I'm all the usual things a mom should be on such a landmark day for her kid - happy, proud, a bit nervous. Aside from that, the day felt suspiciously like many others in its past.

Holden started two days ago at the Washington Elementary School Child Development Center, where he will go before and after his afternoon kindergarten class. Riley started there several weeks ago in the pre-school, and we've thus far been satisfied with out experience. So dropping Holden off on his first day of kindergarten was not how I always pictured it would be, or how I remembered mine oh so many years ago. For us, there were no tears, leg clinging, pictures by his cubby and lingering waves and blowing kisses. It was our usual "see ya later alligator," and I barely got a kiss good-bye as the kids were eager to run off and play cars together.

So, while the day itself didn't seem very momentous, I can't help but think about all this means for all of us in the long run. The long run being the next 17 years or so. It's been nearly 15 years since I graduated college, and left things like homework, scheduled vacations and emergency contact forms behind. Now, all I see is a life defined by these things - multiplied when you factor in all the responsibilities and activities that come with this time of life: PTA, soccer, religious school, scouting and whatever other sports or extra-curricular activities likely to come our way. It's overwhelming, honestly.


But, for the first time in nearly 15 years, I'm also experiencing what it's like to have life defined by child, family and community. Sure, we'll be a slave to the still non-existent weekend AYSO schedule for the next few months and we'll have to think hard about taking off for three-day weekends in the middle of April ... but we are looking forward to watching the kids learn, play and have fun with what we hope will be a whole new batch of friends. We've already started feeling the community a bit in our new townhome complex, where we are surrounded by kids who are starting to get to know each other, and we get to know the adults.

This must be what it means to plant roots. The last few months has felt like soil tilling. Today, a little seedling got plopped into the fresh dirt. It's going to be a thrill to watch it grow and blossom.

On Blogs, Wienermobiles, Carousels and New Friends

The Internet is kinda weird. Never before have people who would otherwise not have any way of knowing each other wind up friends, correspondents, lovers, fans, supporters, co-workers or enemies. While I guess, with this blog, I could be categorized as one of the "Mommy Bloggers," I know I don't hold a candle to the mom's and dad's who are really OUT THERE with their lives. Some have turned their musings into an industry, while others have found unexpected communities of generosity, kindness and support.

About a year ago, I was bored at work one afternoon and reading a blog kept up by Nanette, a friend of the Messingers. She is one of the first people I know in real life who was regularly writing a blog that had followers who were not just people she really knew. She had amassed a whole new group of friends with similar interests based on her writings about such things like baking and pop culture. Figuring I liked the things she wrote about, I'd see who else she was reading and started clicking down her blogroll.

Somewhere down the list, I stopped. For a very, very long time. I had found one titled Matt, Liz and Madeline. Despite having no idea who these people were, I was suddenly sucked into the most heartbreaking tale. Long story short, I quickly figured out that Matt Logelin was sharing publicly his daily ins-and-outs in a world that brought him his daughter, Maddie, one day - only to take the love of his life, his wife Liz, the next. Through my tears that afternoon, I kept reading. And since then, I check back every few weeks to see what Matt and Maddie are up to.

Weird, right? I know. But I found myself reading his posts as I would from a friend who had sent a letter or an e-mail. I cared. I was concerned. I cheered his joys and teared for his sorrows. All the while, I watched as the most beautiful and photogenic little girl grew from squirmy baby to nearly walking 15-month-old. Matt also takes lots of great pictures, often with an edgy urban feel I admire (have to admit, been using dutch angles in my work more because of his inspriation!).

At one point, he and I corresponded briefly. I felt compelled to share his sharing and the reporter in me itched to do a story about him. But, because he is what we call "OTA" (Outta the Area) and way off my court beat anyway, I had to get special permission to do it for our sister paper in the Valley. Matt wanted to participate, but had just given an interview to a national magazine and promised he wouldn't do anymore until that article came out. Between then and the publication of that People article, the editor who gave me the green light got fired and the publicity storm around Matt swelled. He's since been on Oprah and God knows where else.

Part of that recognition came because, late last year, Matt announced on his blog the formation of the Liz Logelin Foundation. As more and more people found him and began to follow their lives, more and more people sent presents for him and Maddie. Wanting to share the wealth and honor his late wife's memory, the Foundation benefits single parents who don't have the resources they need. To further raise awareness for the organization, he holds little gatherings (he lives in the L.A. area but travels a lot) for people to come and meet him and Maddie and support the Foundation.

When I saw last week that they, and the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile, would be having a meet-up Sunday at Griffith Park AND that we had no plans on Sunday, I knew I wanted to go. I packed a picnic lunch and the boys to go and meet some complete strangers friends in the park.

The Oscar Mayer people sold raffle tickets for a ride in the Wienermobile, as well as a hotdog-shaped pedal car and a remote control hot dog car. Furthering our weekend of sourpuss ungratefulness, Holden's mood turned drastically when our tickets weren't picked. There's been a lot of complaining lately about things that are not worthy of complaint ... things that are fun, little boy-oriented and planned specifically with their interests in mind. We had had a nice time, and I remained as patient as I could running solo with them all day, but we needed some perspective.

I reminded Holden of all the fun things he got to do - play in the park, ride the carousel and eat ice cream. Then, thinking of Matt and Maddie, I launched into some speech about appreciating all you have and being grateful for other people's generosity, which I'm sure he didn't hear. But after meeting all the people that came out to support the Liz Logelin Foundation, I attacked with a new sense of vigor and purpose, knowing there is lots and lots of good people out there.


Here is Maddie, by far the most popular girl in the park that day. I looked forward to photographing her and glad she was a willing subject. When I first arrived, I held her for a while. But she wanted nothing to do with me and kept reaching out for my adorable companion, Holden. He, unfortunately, wasn't so cooperative and responded by taking a step back and hitting me on the head as I tried to chat.

Both kids were keen to ride the carousel. Despite the enthusiasm, Riley balked when it came time to, uh, pony up. Just before the spin started, he mounted and was fine.


Here is Maddie with dad Matt. She is on the verge of walking and it was fun to watch them interact. Matt was very gracious when I realized, kind of embarassingly, that my being there was like being a groupie. He disspelled that notion quickly and said he didn't see it that way.

As we said good-bye, I told Matt, "Thanks for sharing." Looking back, that kinda sounds lame-o and I don't think it even came close to conveying the gratitude I wanted to express. I wanted to thank him for sharing his words, photos, thoughts, emotions, adventures and life with me and the anoymous Internet. His story, and the people who have come out to support Maddie and Matt, and then their cause, can really renew one's faith in humanity. And I wanted to thank him for letting us be a part of that life, even for just one day.