Ford MyKey
I have one teenager who’s THIS close to getting his license, and another that’s already nagging for her learner’s permit, despite the fact I made her brother wait longer than his friends before getting his. So clearly, driving is a regular topic of conversation around these parts. And it’s terrifying. I mean, I’ve ridden in the passenger seat with my son behind the wheel for the past year, and it’s TERRIFYING. I’m a little bit of a control freak (stop laughing) and it’s hard for me to give that tendency up and make sure the Boy is relaxed and paying attention and doing what he needs to do: learning.
But we’ve survived so far – in a beat up old 95 jeep, that he was sweet enough to buy from me yesterday so that I could get a 93 jeep that’s in much better condition to haul his siblings around. Yes, I sold my son the crappy car that he’ll tear up anyway, to get myself a better one. Sue me. Point is, he’s ready and raring to go – the minute the roads are clear, he’s road test and independent driving bound…
Heaven help us all.
Or maybe, just Ford. Have you heard about MyKey? It’s a pretty nifty little device that Ford’s about to launch in the newest 2010 Ford Focus and other models. What it does is allow the parent to set some limits on their teen driver. It warns them when they’re low on fuel, when they’ve forgotten their seatbelt. It also can be programed to have a “top speed” that your teen can drive, with warning chimes at certain levels. It can even limit the volume of the radio.
Check it out:
If you have more questions, Ford will be having a question and answer forum Tuesday, Feb 24th, at noon EST. You can join in and ask your questions here: Talk to the Experts.
Would I actually use something like this with my kids? I’m not sure. I’m on the fence on it – but since I’m not in the position of getting him a brand new car anyway, I can postpone such a decision. Whether you choose to use MyKey for your kids or not, as with every subject here, I encourage you to TALK to your kids first. They won’t rail against the limitations as much if they know they’re there, why they are there, and understand where your coming from with the installation. Sure, they might not like it, and I expect that some smarty pants kid hacker will find a way around it sooner rather then later, but still. Talk to your kids.
Then tell them to turn that noise down, already! Srsly! Kids these days. They call THAT music? Why, back in my day…
Respecting our Elders.
When I was growing up, we had an elderly preacher live with us for 11 years. The story goes, Mama decided to pray for patience once, and God delivered by giving her an old man who’d try the patience of a saint. And he did, daily.
Grandpa S was, well, he was something. He was set in his ways, and ornery and determined, and annoying and amusing, smart and all things that older folks usually are. He would sit in his room for hours, typing on his VERY noisy old typewriter, writing devotions to submit to various publications he had been involved with since attending Seminary at Grace College waaaaaaaay back in the day. We’d dutifully proof read, and then make sure it got sent off to the right place, and back he’d go again to typetypetype on the keys.
While it wasn’t always the perfect arrangement, it did each me a tolerance for the elderly, even when they were driving me up the wall. He always had interesting stories, and as much as we swore it wouldn’t be so – we kinda missed him when he moved out. We even missed his tendency to wander out into the yard, pick dandelions, toss the yellow flower, wash the rest in the sink (And I use the term “wash” loosely. VERY loosely.) then throw them in a bowl with some Italian dressing and add it to his lunch or dinner.
I was reminded of those Dandelion Greens salads when a video came through my feed reader this morning, featuring Clara, a 93 year old grandmother, who’s grandson films her as she cooks meals she and her family used to get by in the depression. Potatoes, eggs, and other cheaper items stretched to feed a lot of people, in order to get by – valuable lessons to learn at any age, and especially now with folks recession obsessed. She tells stories as she cooks, and her grandson often focuses on her hands as she measures and stirs and hows us how to stretch our dollar – we see the slight tremble, the age spots, and remember that folks before us have survived worse – we can survive too.
So I encourage you to check out Great Depression Cooking with Clara! Who knows, you might find a recipe that you like – and that your kids will eat. We’ve done something similar to her grandson’s favorite ‘poorman’s meal’ for years at my house! Check it out:
🙂
And have the teenagers watch it too – they might learn something, even if it’s just a simple meal they can wow their future girlfriends/boyfriends with while cooking in a single pot while at college. Who doesn’t need to know something like that, right? Exactly.
Babies having babies.
Mama always said that she was a ‘baby that had a baby’ when she got pregnant with me a mere WEEK after her wedding to Papa. She and I still look like sisters (I’m the YOUNGER one, dammit!), and we often joke that we grew up together, because, well, we did. Ok – so SHE grew up, and the jury is still out on me, but close enough. And for the record, Mama was 20 when she had me, and I was still a ‘baby’ when I had The Boy at 22.
So tell me, what in the blue blazes of all things unholy is a TWELVE year old doing sleeping with a FIFTEEN year old in her parent’s house, and fathering a child at THIRTEEN?
I’m sure all of you have heard about Alfie by now, but in case you haven’t – it goes like this. That baby-faced boy who’s voice hasn’t even changed is the father of that baby. And it gets worse, as now two other boys (ages 14 and 16) have stepped up claim possible paternity of the 15 year old Chantelle’s baby Maisie. As bad as that is, it’s not what chaps my considerable behind about it all – no, what does that is this: Chantelle’s mother, apparently, told her to keep quiet about the other boys in order to ensure they got paid for the story.
Well then! That’s the way to exploit the kids! While the whole story is disturbing, it’s the actions of the parents in question that is really awful. What mother in their right mind allows their 15 year old to have multiple sleep overs in her room, let alone with multiple boys? And Alfie’s parents are probably summed up best in this quote by Alphie’s Dad:
“When I spoke to Alfie, he started crying,” said Patten. “He said it was the first time he’d had sex, that he didn’t know what he was doing and the complications that could come. I will talk to him again and it will be the birds and the bees talk. Some may say it’s too late, but he needs to understand so there is not another baby.”
The NEXT conversation will include the birds and the bees? Pardon me while I bang my head on my desk. Daddy’s no angel, either, as he’s got multiple kids from many different women, and apparently a 13 year old girl who gave birth a couple years ago as well. And don’t even get me started on his wearing a Halloween mask and putting a sign on his car with info where to call his publicist while he’s at the hospital visiting his new granddaughter! Father of the year material, right up there with Chantelle’s mother who’s money grubbing for the rights to the story.
You know, in my town? Chantelle would be in jail for statutory rape because of the age difference. The child, CHILD, was TWELVE!
TWELVE.
I’m speechless.
(mostly!)
I understand that kids have sex. I’ve preached safe sex to my kids (all still virgins, thank you very much!) since they showed the first hint of hormone hell. I understand that it’s not an easy topic to bring up, and it can be embarrassing for both the parents and the teens.
But answer me this – wouldn’t you rather talk about Condom Man and Lucy Lubricant, than explain to your 12 year old that his in the dark fumbling mean he’s now responsible for another life for the rest of his life?
Yeah. Me too.
Planet Ahead – Get it?
So, in my many many hours that I spent bopping around the internets, I come across some pretty interesting sites sometimes, and this one is no different. I don’t even remember how I got there, but in one of my random link-clicking sprees, I happened upon PlanetAhead.ca, which caused me to instantly ask the question “is that a CONDOM he’s using for a CAPE?” And then I giggled. Because I am 12.
Anyway! It’s actually a pretty cool site, and yes, that is a condom he’s wearing as a cape, because the super heroes in that banner are named Condom Man and Lucy Lubricant. (Admit it – you’re giggling now, too!) The site is designed as a safe place for kids, teens and tweens, to ask and get answers to the questions hey might not feel comfortable talking to mom and dad about – everything from puberty to STDs, to the physical, and emotional risk of becoming sexually active. The answers are honest, and often include encouragement to talk to a trusted adult and/or a physician. The team at Planet Ahead -Condomania is a diverse group, including members of different ethnic, national backgrounds, and sexuality. This gives them a broad range of ‘experts’ to help give kids the kind of answers they are hoping for – honest ones.
Sure, it may make some parents uncomfortable, but knowledge almost never backfires. After all, we KNOW kids will eventually have sex – don’t we owe it to them to give them the correct tools to process their feelings and desires into healthy relationships? So check out the site today, and maybe sneak it onto your kids favorites list, or point it out in a more obvious “READ THIS” way, depending on how open you are with your kids and your own comfort level. There’s a LOT of good info there, and it’ll open doors to open and frank discussion with your kids.
Just don’t forget those all important four words that I start every sex talk with in my house… “I WILL KILL YOU!” followed by “…but if you must, know this…”
Because, you know, I’m cool like that.
Housekeeping!
I’m not the best housekeeper, much to my mama‘s dismay. (Have you entered her contest yet? Hurry!) Things pile up, we sift through piles, we rearrange them, we sometimes (rarely) toss them, its.. well. Let’s just say I’m a packrat that married a packrat, and we both possessed the “bah, who cares” gene which we, of course, passed down to our children.
But sometimes, enough is enough, and I find myself willing to do ANYTHING to get their rooms cleaned. Anything.
About a year after my husband died, the Boy decided that he wanted to move out into the “Manspace” and claim it as his room. The Manspace is 10×12 glorified shed that we built so the hubby and his friends could hang out and drink beer without driving me insane with their antics in the living room. It gave us space to call our own, and probably was the smartest thing I’d ever agreed too in our 15 years together. I wasn’t surprised the boy wanted to make it his own – nor was I shocked that the girls were WAY excited about it, as they’d then end up with their own room for the first time since the pup was born.
So he moved into the Manspace. And quickly it looked like a bomb went off inside, as OMG. What a mess! Remember the bravest girl, ever? Yeah, that was the last time it was really clean.
But all that is about to change. You see, he texted me (I AM SUCH A COOL MOM!) to ask a question, and I laid some pretty serious rules down on him before I’d say yes. The Manspace had to be cleaned and kept clean. He had to remember to make sure his door was closed, he had to take care of things ON HIS OWN. This would be his responsibility – NOT MINE – he was to handle ALL THINGS NEEDED in order to make it a success.
He agreed.
Wholeheartedly.
Meet our newest family member:
Understandably, I’ve mixed feelings – from “aw, cute” to “i do NOT wanna have to take care of it!” – but like I said, sometimes you’ll do ANYTHING to get them to clean their room. Sigh.
PS. He’s still without name – suggestions?
