By Andrew Kensley






Monday, February 28, 2011

Kids and Pets

Ella got 2 pets last week: Todd and Chellsey (her spelling). Hermit crabs. Yup, the first pet buy. We caved. The pet store has a 2 week guarantee on these little creatures' lives, but I'm hoping we'll outlast it. Ella's been entrusted with feeding, dechlorinating the water and spraying these little creatures to keep them alive. Five days, and so far so good.

Wish us luck.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Swimsuit Issue

Irina Shayk Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue
Irina Shayk on the offending SI cover.



Got my Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue last week. Of course, on the cover was a buxom brunette giving a look that would stop traffic. Not really what I'd consider appropriate material for my nearly-5-year-old, but she got to it first. She thought it was Tanya's (all you women's rights activists out there, please notice how many "women's" magazines have women in bikinis on the cover, just like my magazine which some consider soft porn) and insisted on looking at it. It became a lesson for both of us: me figuring out how much shelter I can give my impressionable young daughter when it comes to sexism and the issue of exploitation of women, and her learning about the unrealistic expectations for women in society today.

In any case, it prompted my Wee Wisdom column, which I'll post below. Got some interesting responses from women who thought my parenting skills leave something to be desired when it comes to teaching my daughters.

Everyone's an expert.

Model behavior is sometimes unrealistic

Sophia and I picked up the mail Tuesday and my Sports Illustrated had arrived. The annual swimsuit edition.

"Look, Dad," my 4-year-old said, "Mom's magazine is here."

"No, that's mine," I said, already starting to feel anxious.

Sophia laughed. "Then why does it have a girl on the front?"

Uh-oh.

My curious child insisted on looking at my magazine before I could. She flipped through the entire issue silently, apparently unaffected by anything she saw. I was prepared to answer all possible questions. Why, then, did I feel so guilty? Should I have brazenly stolen the magazine back from my child's hands so she wouldn't be corrupted?

I wouldn't choose to have my children peruse pictures of unrealistically built women wearing unreasonably scant swimsuits on a regular basis. Some of the featured bathing suits are little more than leftover fabric, and I'm still searching for the connection with sports. But Sophia got to it first, and I wasn't about to rip it from her hands just because I could. Remember, this magazine sits clearly visible on newsstands everywhere. Too late for shelter.

I waited for Sophia to ask something about the suggestive poses or the size (or lack thereof) of some of the bathing suits. Instead, she got excited about an advertisement for DirecTV, where two women in bikinis were holding remote controls.

"Dad," she said. "Look at this. That girl has the same remote as us."

I breathed a little easier, but my tension remained.

Sensationalistic and fear-based media have helped create a reactionary society, especially in matters concerning sexuality and body image. But as a parent, I've learned that being impetuous does not contribute to problem-solving. So I planned on turning this into a learning experience.

Once Ella got home from school, my wife, Tanya, and I made a point to explain to our daughters that the models in the magazine were people first and should not be judged on their appearance but their personalities. Their job was to sell bathing suits because they were pretty, but they had the same problems as everyone else. I patted myself on the back, but I still couldn't completely shake the discomfort.

I didn't know if my emotional state was born out of my own tendency toward guilt or genuine concern for my child's emotional health. On one hand, I was confident that 10 minutes of looking at photos of bikini-clad women on a beach would not affect my child more negatively than the typical beer commercial. On the other, I don't want my kids to become desensitized to our culture's penchant for over-sexualization. It's a tough call, for sure.

Later that night, I asked Sophia to point out her favorite picture. With a laugh, she turned to the back cover, another ad: a round chocolate candy wearing high heels and dangling a green M&M bathing suit in her hand.

My anxiety had finally disappeared.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Childhood Obesity

If a child is obese, it's the parent's fault. Period.

Parents are responsible for what their young children eat most of the time. Breakfast, dinner, sack lunches, snacks, vacations...like it or not, we are in charge.

I found a great website that informs and educates on nutrition and general health. (Full disclosure: my sister is a contributor. But it's still great). www.donediet.org. Check it out.

Here's this week's column.


Poor Nutrition is Scary Stuff, Even for Kids

Ella, my second-grader, has been learning about nutrition at school. She likes to make her own meals so we’ve been reading ingredients and nutrition facts on food labels. Anything high in sugar and fat, we’ve concluded, should generally be avoided.
Last week over breakfast, Sophia, my 4-year-old, said, “Some people eat sugar all the time for all their meals.”
“Do you know what happens to them?” I asked.
Ella responded, “They die.”
It’s no mystery that if one maintains unhealthy dietary habits, they will most likely die sooner than someone who makes healthier choices. We often use fear as a tactic to dissuade our children from trying drugs. But is it alarmist to compare cocaine and Coke, meth with M&M’s?
Food is a unique beast. We need it on a regular basis to sustain us, and our choices are endless. The variety of options in our prosperous nation leaves the uneducated and the unmotivated at a disadvantage.
According to the CDC, obesity in kids ages 6-11 in 2008 was nearly 20 percent, up from 6.5 percent from 1980. For adolescents (12-19 years old) it increased from 5 to 18 percent. In a population-based sample of 5- to 17-year-olds, 70 percent of obese youth had at least one risk factor for cardiovascular disease. Something must be done.
Since the best way to cure a disease is to prevent it, education is key. Part of that is understanding what happens to your body if you choose to eat junk food and watch TV all day.
Obesity greatly increases the risk of developing type II diabetes, heart disease, hypertension and some forms of cancer. Add to that a high rate of depression, lethargy and joint pains and suddenly preventing this condition warrants more than suggestions.
According to the website www.donediet.org, the most important things our kids can do are: never skip breakfast, limit sodas and juices and partake in regular physical activity. Its advice on junk food? As little as possible.
A little junk food every now and then won’t kill us, and it probably won’t upend our metabolism. But consistent overeating and inactivity can have gradual but serious health effects that often are ignored. It’s an addiction like any other. Addictions by definition are difficult to conquer.
The fear of obesity should be real for children. They need to know their choices now will impact their health in the future. Junk food is not heroin or painkillers, and its effects may not be as shocking. Over the long run, though, it can kill. We’d be doing our children a disservice if we didn’t educate them on this fact.
While the margin for error is greater with food than with drugs, the parallel is there. Fear may not always be the best motivation for children, but when it comes to their health, a small scare won’t kill them.

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Not Excuse Me

Originally published in the Coloradoan on September 27, 2009


"No more candy," I said. In the gym locker room after a swim, Sophia pursed her lips and glared at her evil Daddy. Then with uncanny comic timing she, uh, passed gas. With her eyes barely visible under the shadow of furrowed eyebrows, she said in her best angry voice: "NOT excuse me!"

"You're not, not excused," I responded and got dressed.

I was proud. Sophia had articulated an honest refrain in a world rife with euphemisms.

In the name of shameless self-preservation, we adults consistently display unsavory behaviors like passive-aggression ("I'm fine") or unreasonable retorts ("It's all your fault anyway"). I often have trouble conveying genuine emotions, even to people I love and trust, for fear of feeling guilty.

While adults are jaded by experience and often depend on others to boost their self-esteem, 3-year-olds have egos the size of swimming pools and don't care about what others think. All people and events revolve around them, and as such, they make their feelings quite clear. Nothing is more important than what they feel now.

Says Dr. Angele Fauchier, a child psychologist at the University of New Hampshire, "Three-year-olds can't manipulate emotions because they don't understand what others do and do not know, and therefore can't adjust their statements to deceive others."

If only grown-ups were so transparent.

I tried to retract my developing smile quickly enough that Sophia wouldn't see my reaction. But the laughter that had been waiting inside my belly, compressed by a fatherly instinct to not embarrass my child, escaped. I looked around the locker room. No one else had witnessed my daughter's moment of honest indignation. I was forced to savor the moment alone.

Her chin lifted slightly as she too allowed herself to enjoy the levity, until she realized that she needed to feign anger just a little longer. "I'm see-wee-us," she said.

"You were so mad at me, you farted," I said in mock surprise and pinched my nose. "Pee-yew!"

She laughed and I had my window. "No sweets before dinner. That's our rule," I said.

Sophia was angry at my decision. And after I made light of a common bodily function, she forgot her frustration and heeded the rules. Our duel was over, never to be spoken of again.

Ask any parent and they'll tell you that petulance is not a favorite emotion, but is at least rooted in honesty. When Ella, my 6-year-old, or Sophia tell me I'm not their friend, I know where I stand. The tantrums and ear-shattering screams are, of not pleasant, genuine. I can deal with the noise because it's always short lived. I don't worry about my daughters holding a grudge or telling my peers to ignore me or...

As you can see, I already fear pre-adolescence.

I learned a lesson from my preschooler, who goes about her life with a clarity I envy. The next time I'm tempted to take shelter behind my pride and manipulate others with emotional trickery, I'll first consider not excusing myself.