Procrastination is Hereditary

Brian Regan is one of my favorite comedians. He can make any situation funny with his unique spin. And he does it without any foul language.

One of his best bits is called "Cup of Dirt." If you're familiar with Regan, if you're a big fan, you know this bit verbatim. You see, this comedian is among the ranks of those who have such fanatical...well...fans that they can recite his bits with him like any good 10th grader reciting "Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears..."

In case you're not familiar with Brian Regan, um, first, become familiar. Well worth an hour or more of your time. And two, Cup of Dirt references his childhood experience with the always popular Science Project. You know, the one that gets assigned early in the school year and should be worked on as the year progresses, ultimately due to be displayed for everyone's ridicule at the always popular Science Fair. Snort. Except Brian Regan--much like myself--did nothing on his project, and on the morning of the Fair, his head popped off the pillow with an "Oh no. That's due today. I had all year to work on it and I did nothing."

I won't spoil the way this turns out because it's Brian Regan at his finest and absolutely hysterical. Especially when you lived this same nightmare, as I did. My procrastinating ways originated at this time in my life, I'm sure of it. I figure if I pretended the Science Project wasn't actually assigned, maybe it ultimately wouldn't be. Wrong.

And a procrastinating nature has followed me ever since. Although I did enjoy learning from college professors that creative people are typically procrastinators. That's the way to put a positive spin on a negative trait. I like it.

Last night, my 6th grader had an Oh No moment. Not a Science Project, thank goodness, because I think I'll have to be committed if I have to relive that disaster again, even in the parent role. But on Sunday night at 9:00 at night, 30 minutes before bedtime, from the backseat of my car as we were driving his friend home, my son says: "Oh no. I have a language arts project to do. It's due tomorrow."

My response: "That's not even funny, Chase." I was sure he and his pal were yanking my chain. "I mean it, Mom," he insisted. "I really have a project to do and it's got to be turned in tomorrow."

"Ha, ha, Chase. Very funny. Because if you weren't kidding, I would be very upset," I said in my most threatening, knock-off-the-jokes voice. Unfortunately, he wasn't kidding. 1 language arts project assigned two weeks ago. 0 language arts projects completed a mere 12 hours before one was due to be turned in.

Ugh. I nearly exploded and believe me, I have more parental patience than most. But when he told me the project involved video-taping a scene from a book the class read (including the use of props, various "actors" to play multiple roles, and pyrotechnics) and then burning the whole she-bang to a DVD, my patience disappeared faster than a batch of cake frosting after a bad date in my younger years.

And then I thought: while this is a learning opportunity for Chase--who I ask daily if he has homework, what it is and if it's done (and he missed a good 14 opportunities to mention this little project to me)--can I really get too upset after realizing that procrastination is clearly hereditary?

Mother, May I?

I may have just turned another year older but I'm pretty sure it's my son who will age me more than that in the coming months. My 11 year old (12 in Feb) has his first real girlfriend. By real, I mean, he likes her and she likes him back. No more than that but up to now, there's just been a whole lot of he liked someone who did not like him back and even more she liked him but he didn't care so much.

But apparently, he's "dating" this one particular girl now. They're "going out." Little miss thing has adored my son since the start of the school year (they didn't know each other prior to this year--middle school brought three elementary schools together so there were lots of new friends to be had) and he has recently decided he likes her too. And in the span of a couple weeks, they've fallen deeply and hopelessly in love. They never knew rainbows were so pretty or the sky so blue, the flowers so fresh or...blah! Um, really? You're 11. You aren't "dating" or "going out" with anyone because that implies you have mode of transportation without a "Mom's Taxi" sign on top of it.

I get lots of eye-rolling these days. Why must I rain on their pre-teen love parade? Cause it makes me feel old, that's why. And replaced. I told Chase last night: never forget, you love ME most. Girls will come and go but you only have one mom. He just smiled. I was serious.

I stumbled onto an instant message conversation between them that was on my laptop the other day--he hadn't closed it out afterwards apparently so I got a keen eye view into the state of their relationship . It went on for three pages but there was a theme: a lot of "I love you"s and "No, I love you more"s, "I'm thinking of u" and "I can't wait to see you again"s. With tons of extra letters, like this: I looooooooooveeeeee youuuuuuuuu. Because it means more like that.

Last night, I finally caved and allowed him something I've been refusing for months: set up a Facebook page. He's begged to do this, saying that all his friends have them. And while they're all definitely ensconced in the electronic age of staying in touch (texting, IM'ing, Xbox Live), I thought Facebook was taking it too far. But I've been giving it some thought, wondering what potential harm could come from it. And realizing that while I want to keep him young and more interested in SpongeBob than in socializing, I couldn't stop his growing up from happening.

So at last I decided to let him set up a Facebook page, provided I knew the password to the account, could access everything he was doing/seeing on there and he only accepted folks as friends that he knew. He got set up and sure enough, there must have been a hundred middle school students he knew on there--friends and friends of friends. He spent the first hour chatting with five friends simultaneously ("This is hard, mom!"). I think that's the main reason they have Facebook pages at that age--he didn't have a clue what a wall was or how to post photos. But the boy could sure do some chatting!

Girlfriends, now Facebook...the teen years loom closer and closer and already the socializing and drama of teen interaction has begun. I've always heard your kids grow up fast but it seemed he just took five giant steps forward overnight and he never even asked Mother, May I?

Birthdays in the Electronic Age

Birthdays have really evolved since the take over of computers, the almighty internet, texting and the subsequent reduction of everyone's social lives to communication via Facebook and Twitter. By 9 this morning, I'd received birthday wishes from folks around the country via text (while I do appreciate the wishes, setting my phone to jangling an hour before my alarm is set to go off in the morning ain't exactly the happiest wishes a non-morning person could receive...I'm just sayin'). I've even been text messaged by my child's friends (cause I'm a cool mom). I've gotten lots of notes posted to my Wall on Facebook, which are usually entertaining because people know others get to see exactly what their wishes are and "Happy Birthday" seems so bland when you can say things like "Another year older, Geezer? Are parts falling off yet??" Heck, I've even been bombarded by well wishes from machines--auto generated from companies I'm pretty sure don't even know my name: my savings account company (ING), Webshots (who cleverly allows me to post pics here occasionally), a Market Study company I've helped out, the Squirrel Board and more. It brings a tear to my eye that they all remembered too.

Yes, birthdays in the electronic age are like no other. Now if only people could send sweets via email--I'd be set! :-)

Thanks to all for the Birthday wishes...