Uncle! The Definitive Guide for Becoming the World's Greatest Aunt or Uncle

Provocative Techniques with Kids

2011-06-23T14:44:00.000-07:00

By Duff McDuffee

Original Post at Real People Press

http://realpeoplepress.com/blog/provocative-parenting

After recently watching some videos of Nick Kemp’s unusual and entertaining Provocative Change Works, I decided to try out this style of communicating with the teenager in our household, my partner’s son.

Recently I was driving myself, my lady, and her son somewhere when he mentioned something about peer pressure. In an exaggerated and playful tone of voice, I said how important it is to always do whatever anybody wants you to, especially if it is harmful and destructive and you don’t really want to do it!

From the tone of my voice and the smile on my face it was clear I was joking, and he obviously understood this. He started to argue playfully with me, saying “That’s not what you should do.” I continued to push the joke further and said things like, “If your friends give you some poison to drink, you have to drink it, otherwise they’ll make fun of you! ‘Come on, don’t be a loser, drink this poison already. You only live once!’ ” He said things like, “No way, I’m not drinking poison! I’m doing what I want to do.” Only afterwards did I realize how elegant this method is for teaching a teenager about peer pressure.

Most teenagers are naturally a bit rebellious, even if they are good kids like my lady’s son. They resent being lectured to about things like peer pressure and drug use, and saying “Don’t do drugs” is more likely to elicit eye rolls, if not outright use of drugs as a form of rebellion, rather than abstention and standing up to peer pressure. By arguing that the teenager should take poison or something else harmful that they don’t want, it utilizes that teenage rebelliousness for a life-enhancing outcome. By using “poison” as the example, it implicitly emphasizes the harm of drug use, but without actually saying it. Most kids are aware of the potential danger, but don’t see it when peers emphasize how “cool” it is.

By using a provocative approach, the kid argues against a hypothetical peer while also getting to feel rebellious towards the parent. I think this may have been particularly effective because I am in a step-parenting role and thus don’t have any real authority to set limits or lecture about things anyhow, so a more direct way of speaking would have been more likely to elicit resistance.

And by arguing against me playfully pressuring him to drink poison, he was in that moment practicing behavioral skills for resisting peer pressure. We were also having fun together, which is very different than most people’s childhood experiences of being lectured about drugs by their parents!

Ultimately kids will make their own choices of course, but it helps to be able to give them some skills, and sometimes these little tricks can make a big difference in communicating those skills to kids.

How do you pronounce “aunt?”

2011-06-22T14:01:00.000-07:00

How do you pronounce “aunt?”

Let’s take a survey. Comment on this posting about how you pronounce the word and let’s see what we get.

Uncle is easy. There just isn’t a lot of wiggle room in pronouncing the word “uncle.” Even in French, “oncle” sounds pretty close to “uncle.”

“Aunt” is another matter.

Most all words that have an A-U combination would want to make you say it as “ont.”

August = awhgust, not aaagust.

Autumn. Nobody says “atom” unless they are talking about physics.

Audit. Nobody says “adit” unless they are talking about a vertical mine tunnel.

Auberage = obberage. Nobody says “aaaberage”. Okay, nobody says auberage either anymore. It means something like a hostel.

Blaug. Oh, sorry, that was already blog.

Cause does not equal caz.

Plausible does not sound out to be plazzible.

Taught isn’t tat.

Exhausted is exosted.

And anything with auto- in it has that crazy soft O dipthong.

Ottomobile.

Awtomatic Teller Machine (in some parts of the

U.S.

Ottoresponder.

Nobody says “attamatick transmission.” Not even on Car Talk.

I can’t think of any au sound that people pronounce as a short A.

So why do a lot of people pronounce A…U…N…T as “ant?” I do. Am I wrong?

Does it depend on the name of the aunt? Ant Betty v. Aunt Betty? Antie Em v. Auntie Em? Ant Alice? Ant Xylophone? Ant Eater? No difference.

One thing we know for sure. The chemical symbol for gold is AU. And the origin of aunt comes from the French (once again) amare meaning beloved.

So, to insert some math:

Beloved + Golden = Aunt.

However you say it, that sounds right to me.

Disgust As A Weapon

2011-06-19T06:49:00.000-07:00

By Ellis

June 19, 2011

In my run-up to Harry Potter Finale, I am re-reading the books and watching the films (while attired in my tiara and waving both my wands), AND -- hang in there...I'll make the connection in just three, two, ....... I find myself constantly amazed at J.K.'s ability to work boogers into every book.

Yes, if it's not one of the Weasley brothers talking about them...hmmm......a family of five brothers and one little sister...are we surprised? Mais no! ...yes, if it's not Weasleys, it's booger-flavored beans on the candy trolley or some such nonsense. Clearly, kids are fascinated by boogers. As a child who had horrible allergies and sinus infections, who slept like the elephant man (sitting up) most of her first twenty-some-odd years of life and who has blown her nose into more tissues and hankies than Imelda had shoes, boogers were just about the last thing I wanted anything to do with.

On the other hand -- when I was about 10, I fell on the floor furnace and gouged out a large part of my knee. It should have had stitches (we know this now), but I was the child of a farm daughter. You didn't stitch stuff unless it was a knife wound -- a really, really BIG knife wound -- like maybe a pitchfork through your leg.

So for weeks and weeks (perhaps months and months), I went about with this massive hole in various stages of healing, and, as kids are wont to do, periodically ripped off the developing scab with the very large band-aid I would be using to cover it on any given day. At some point, it began to smell -- bad.

Not "badly," mind you, but "bad" as in "smellbad" -- a whole new level of odiforous.

So what did we little girls (sugar and spice and ever’thing nice) do? We used it to our advantage. Yes, I distinctly remember that for a period of about 2-3 weeks, anytime the boys would chase us, take away our jump-ropes, etc., we would pick out one boy, chase him down, hold him down (the other boys NEVER helped him, of course) and -- make him smell my knee.

Now I was never a promiscuous girl growing up. If you went back to my high school and asked, "Anyone here ever sleep with Ellis?" you won't get a single yes (if they're truthful). Much to my chagrin, however, several DOZEN business and civic leaders of Memphis today can truthfully say -- some forty-odd years ago, they smelled my knee -- and once was enough.

Green is the New Black

2011-06-18T19:08:00.000-07:00

by Jenn Archuleta

“It’s green.”

“Green?”

“Green. But it looks really good!”

“It’s green.”

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I can fix it.”

This is not the conversation you want to have with a girlfriend who has tasked you with coloring her hair. Unless, of course, she wanted green. Which was not the case.

In any regular friendship, this is where the dyee cries and curses the dyer for ruining her hair. Lucky for me, the dyee in question was my fifteen year old cousin, I’ll call her Stella. There were no tears or curses, just a pondering in the mirror and an eventual “Mom’s going to kill us,” to which I replied, “That’s okay, I have power of attorney over you until Sunday.”

Last week I had the pleasure of having Stella visit for four days. She lives in Colorado Springs where she moved with her mother and brother when she was nine. From that time on she and I have been great friends. We both love to read, play string instruments and have the same sense of humor. I like her because she gets me.

Family is very important to me and all the more because my extended family seems to be shrinking over time as people have their own families and move away or as they get older and cannot do what they once could. I grew up with cousins all around me, even living with a cousin in college. When Stella’s mom moved back to Colorado Springs with her family it was like a gift to me. Her mom had been like a sister to me growing up and when she came back, she came with two great kids. Two more cousins for me!

When I told people my young cousin was coming to visit they asked me, “What are you going to do with a fifteen year old girl?” The notion of spending four days with a teenager was lost on some of my friends. But I was excited to share with her some aspects of my life here. I don’t get to see her enough and often we are relegated to comments on Facebook and catching up at holidays. Dying her hair green was unexpected but gave us a good laugh. Though we fixed it the next day, I know it will be something I remember for a long time.

There is a translation of Cicero over the doors to the University of Colorado library. It says “Who knows only his own generation remains always a child”. I was told the intention of this statement is to remind us that we must be aware of our past so that we don’t make the same mistake in our future. I prefer to think of this in a more spherical way. I think it is important to try and know all the generations, past present and future. I recommend befriending a teenaged person in general, and one who is related to you specifically. You gain perspective on the direction the world is going in, you get to laugh, you get to have those teaching moments that are so rare and you might actually learn something. But most importantly, you get to establish the foundation of a lifelong friendship with someone who has to like you. Because you’re related to them. And you can tell their mother if they don’t.

Disgusting and Technical Terms

2011-06-14T10:59:00.000-07:00

Your sibilings’s kids at a certain age are fascinated by gross things. They all at once express disgust and intense interest at gooey, smelly, sticky, nasty liquids, semi-liquids and semi-solids. What do you do to capture their highly refined sense of disgust?

This all-consuming focus on disgusting things must be a deep-seated, perhaps even archaic-deep-in-the-brain-stem survival mechanism. You can imagine stone-age nieces and nephews roaming out and about the savannah, looking for stuff to eat and watching out for stuff that could kill them, such as crocodiles, snakes, lions, leopards, hyenas, rhinos, hippos, buffaloes and yes even ostriches. This intrepid little band of nieces and nephews errantly wanders into a liquefying mass of bones, hide, tissue and squirming fly larvae. The conversation might go like this:

“Eeeeeewwww, aaaaackkk whooooo yaaah sheesh aaaaayeee!”

“Oya oya oya, aye yae yae, whoyah.”

“Naaa naaa naaa, onnooo noo, waaaahhh.”

Let me translate:

“Eeeeeewwww, aaaaackkk whooooo yaaah sheesh aaaaayeee!” (“What the…? You have to be kidding me.”)

“Oya oya oya, aye yae yae, whoyah.” (“What is that smell? Should we eat it?)

“Naaa naaa naaa, onnooo noo, waaaahhh.” (“You first. I’m going to puke. Let’s get the hell out of here… wait, what are those wiggly things squirming around in there? Get a stick and poke it.”)

As they encounter a seeping puddle of something green and slimy, your nieces and nephews can rely on their intense interest to keep them in full observation mode, but their sense of smell and taste (if they get that far) will keep them from ingesting at least huge quantities of suppurating masses.

Kids have a deep-seated interested in all things gross and disgusting. And they have names for these items, but they aren’t their real names.

You can add a touch higher learning and yes elegance by teaching your nieces and nephews the proper names for those things that simultaneously attract and repel them. Here are some substances that draw the rapt attention of your nieces and nephews, and which real names they will forever appreciate learning. (The child’s translation is in parentheses).

Nasal crust (boogers).

Flatulence (farts).

Mucus or nasal discharge (snot).

Maggots or fly larvae (Eeeeww, what ARE those things?)

Feces, scat, or spoor (poop and, well, let’s leave it a that).

Humus. (icky rotting plant stuff).

Carrion. (icky rotting animal stuff).

Mold. (mold).

Fungus. (toadstools).

Cerumen. (ear wax).

Saliva (spit, drool).

Lachrymal fluid. (tears).

Pus (pus).

Vomitus (puke).

And Floaters. If you introduce floaters, be prepared for stunned silence. Those floaty things in your field of vision tend to increase as you get older, so young kids may have no earthly idea what you are talking about.

So the next time you and your intrepid little band of nieces and nephews encounter something disgusting, you can cheerily produce all the proper names they need to call out all that they observe.

“That pile of carrion harbors a dandy collection of immature blowfly larvae and the whole thing smells like spoor and flatulence and humus. It makes my eyes fill with lachrymal fluid and my nose with mucus. I may have to vomit so hard that it will discharge cerumen from my head. Let’s look for a minute. Who wants to taste it? Me neither. Glad I didn’t step in it.

Hey, who wants ice cream?”

Body parts, too, have both technical colloquial names. That’s for another day.

Voices of Angels

2011-05-18T17:01:00.000-07:00

The psychiatrist asked the patient, “Do you hear voices in your head?” “Yes, I do,” replied the patient. The psychiatrist thought to himself, with his own voice in his head, “Aha, he hears voices!”

Recently I was doing a little training session with a youth triathlon club. We were working on mental toughness, specifically how to deal with unhelpful internal chatter. You may have unhelpful voices saying unhelpful things to you, such as “You never were any good,” or “What makes you think you can do this?” or any number of nasty little messages. Well, so do seven-year-olds, believe it or not. And when you are training or racing in triathlon, those unhelpful voices can give you trouble. So this youth triathlon team and I were working on how to deal with that unhelpful self-talk.

One way to deal with these voices is to make them funny. So, during the experiment (I wanted to call it an “exercise” but the kids didn’t like that word, so we called it an “experiment.” Evidently, exercise is work, and experiments are fun.)

Anyway…

I wanted to lighten up that unhelpful internal chatter. Try this now: think of an unhelpful internal voice and what it says to you. Now…have that voice say the same thing it always says, but instead, have it inhale a huge lungful of helium, and then say its phrase in that weird Minnie Mouse helium voice. I’ll bet you are giggling. That funny voice takes the sting out of that unhelpful voice and makes it no big deal anymore.

Anyway…

I had all the kids recall an unhelpful voice, then asked them to dress up the speaker of that voice as a clown, with orange and green hair and giant shoes and big, puffy pants, then say the phrase. They all giggled. The unhelpful voice became not so vexing anymore. Then I had them try it on another unhelpful message, with the clown suit and with the helium voice. They giggled again.

Then I had them think about a time in the future when they are likely to run into that voice, and practice making it funny looking and funny sounding. That way, next time they run into a situation, they already know what to do.

They laughed even more.

Sometimes these unhelpful internal voices have an important message, and using these lightening techniques helps us all hear the message better. And sometimes these voices are full of nonsense and tell us things that just aren’t true. We don’t suck. We aren’t useless. We aren’t no good.

To break it down:

Ask your niece if she has any unhelpful voices in her head, either hers or someone else’s. She doesn’t need to tell you what that voice says.
Tell her that this voice is going to say what it always says, but before it does, she gets to dress it up really funny, then have it inhale a big, giant lungful of helium.
Tell her to let the voice say what it wants to, all clownish and helium.
Ask her if that voice bothers her anymore.

Teach your nieces and nephews how to lighten up that voice. It’s fun and it really helps them not to have to listen to all that nonsense. Imagine what your life would have been like if you had learned this technique when you were seven.

A Toddler's Lesson in Determination

2011-05-13T11:56:00.000-07:00

Last week I raced an Ironman triathlon in St George, Utah. The swim portion was 2.4 miles, the bike leg stretched 112 miles and the run part was a full marathon, 26.2 miles. The course is really hilly and the temperature was over 90 degrees with hard wind gusts. I finished in 12 hours 58 minutes, number 18 of the 60 guys in my age group. The weekend before I raced a half-Ironman distance race in California, and got seventh of 50 or more in my age group.

At the end of the race in St George, I was recovering and eating a few things, and saw a little kid, about 18 months old. His father had just finished the race, and this toddler was hanging around with his family while his father tried to pull himself together.

I was feeling as though I had pretty good mental discipline and stick-to-it-iveness. I had done two hard, lengthy races in a week’s time. Ironman St. George was especially challenging, given the big hills and 140.6 miles of racecourse. And it was really hot (did I mention that already?) and the wind gusts felt like a blast furnace.

I thought I had reason to be a little self-congratulatory for racing with determination for nearly 13 hours.

Then I see this little guy, this toddler, this 1.5-year-old, at the race finish.

I watched this little kid trying to walk around on the lawn. He’d take a step or two, fall to the grass, and then get up. He’d take another step, and fall again. Get up, fall down. Get up, try to walk, fall down, and then get back up.

I watched him for five minutes. He must have fallen and stood back up 100 times.

He never seemed to get discouraged, or irritated, or frustrated, or anything even remotely like that. He just kept getting up and trying to walk, and falling down, and getting up again. He was just so—matter of fact about it.

Whoops, down. No problem, just pop back up and start walking. Down again. Okay, well, better get back up. Down. Up again. Down. Up again.

What determination. It didn’t seem like he was battling. He was just getting back up and up and up and up.

Imagine what we all could do if we had that kind of determination.

He might have fallen down 100 times, but he got up 101 times.

When your nieces and nephews get a little discouraged, gently remind them of what it took them to learn to walk. 1000 falls, 1001 recoveries.

You could ask your niece, “What’s the alternative? Lay there until the vultures come?”

We all know how to persevere. It’s how we learned to walk.

Thanks to that little boy, whose father had just raced 140.6 miles in infernal heat and wind, and persevered.

That little boy persevered more.

Essential Skills Videos

2011-05-10T09:35:00.000-07:00

Here are two new videos illustrating key skills to teach nieces and nephews.

The proper way to peel a banana

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1aspBJHi-HA

And How to kick a rock off a trail.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7CfPejTXLYw

Summertime Is Reading Time

2011-05-06T18:04:00.000-07:00

Every year at this time I think about compiling a summer reading list. I was trained to do this and now it’s a habit.

My older brother, Ed, just before summer vacation began, would walk me up the hill to the public library. There he would help me choose a handful of books to read over the summer. I was seven or eight back then when this annual ritual started.

Ed was then and still is a great reader. He reads a lot and a lot of variety. Because he also has a great memory, Ed is really well informed.

Even back then, Ed had a gift for selecting books that I would enjoy and learn something from, too.

The Sunset District library did not have the world's largest collection, but it had plenty for Ed to rifle through and pick some winners.

“Ray Bradbury would be great for you,” he said. “Let’s try Martian Chronicles. If you like that one, Dandelion Wine would be fantastic.”

Ray Bradbury was great. Dandelion Wine remains one of favorite novels.

Ed also introduced me to short stories. “Have you ever read any Saki?” he asked. I had not. “Here, listen to this one.” Ed read me “The Open Window.” I was hooked again.

Ed helped me assemble a stack of books to lug home. He’d ask me how I liked them as I made my way through each volume, and give me a bit of background on the author and how these works came to be.

I tried to read some poetry, and struggled with the meanings of some of the verse. When I asked Ed what it meant—what the author meant—he cleared it all up for me.

He said, “What did the author mean? Who cares? What does it mean to you?” Ah, so that’s how this works.

I tried reading hard stuff. Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison worked me. Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee crushed me. And the Russian novels—cold, cold, cold; potatoes, potatoes, potatoes.

I don’t remember everything I read, but I do remember that Ed steered me to great books that I loved to read, and turned me into a reader.

A while ago, at a dinner at friends’ house, the host complained that my wife and I don’t ever just sit still. I argued the contrary. “I read 300 books last year.” And when I went back and counted them up, I had.

Even now, decades later, around the middle of May, I get a funny feeling that I should be heading to the library.

Take your niece to the library. Pick out a few volumes that you like and that you think she will like.

Start a habit.

Magic Paper Bag

2011-05-06T17:55:00.000-07:00

In this video the nieces team up to demonstrate a technique from the book Uncle! The Definitive Guide for Becoming the World's Greatest Aunt or Uncle.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kmzx05z0mJ0

Creating Future Experience

2011-05-02T20:46:00.000-07:00

We know from experience that nobody ever learns anything from experience.

How can you turn this truism upside down for your nieces and nephews?

Babies come into the world lacking much real-world experience. They just haven’t had a lot of time to accumulate much seasoning. They have to learn things for themselves, and sometimes those learnings are painful. You hope and guard against lessons that are debilitating or fatal.

How do you help your nieces and nephews learn from experience but not have to risk all the downside of the hot stove?

It’s called rehearsal.

Your nephew is going to his first dance. His first dance is fraught with peril. He is thinking, if not asking you directly, “What if nobody will dance with me? What if I ask somebody to dance and she turns me down? What if she says yes but I dance funny?”

You could respond with a line from Willy Wonka:

“What if my beard were made of green spinach?” cried Mr Wonka. “Bunkum and tommyrot! You’ll never get anywhere if you go about what-iffing like that. Would Columbus have discovered America if he’d said ‘What if I sink on the way over? What if I meet pirates? What if I never come back?’ He wouldn’t even have started. We want no what-iffers around here.”

Instead, what you might do to actually be helpful is easier. You don’t have to remember all that Roald Dahl stuff, for one thing.

Experience is what you get when you didn’t get what you wanted.

When your nephew gets handed a life lesson, you can help him incorporate that learning into his future.

Ask him this: “What did you learn from that experience?”

Listen to hear that he at least considered there was a lesson there.

Then emplant that learning into his future.

Ask your nephew, “When is the next time you will be in this same kind of situation? “ Once your nephew picks out an upcoming time when he could use his new experience, ask him to make a movie in his head about how he would like the next event to go, exactly as he wishes.

Tell him, “You are the director of your own movie, so make it exactly as you wish it would go, just perfect. Use your newfound experience to help you.”

That’s all.

Now your nephew has had a rehearsal to incorporate his new experience, and has placed it in an appropriate future situation, so it will be there exactly when he needs it.

Volunteering and Food

2011-04-27T18:05:00.001-07:00

Volunteering is a big part of the culture of this nation. Barn raisings, when the neighbors would get together to build a barn that takes a crowd to build—that’s volunteering. Bringing meals to the family down the street when a member of that family has taken ill—that’s volunteering. Beach cleanups and tree planting days—volunteerism again.

Bringing your siblings’ kids to volunteer projects has terrific benefits for the kids and their parents and you. First, the projects are a blast. You are working together with those kids to make the world a better place in some way. You are accomplishing tasks together, working side by side and GSD—Getting Stuff Done. You are mixing with other people doing the same thing, giving their time and talents toward making real progress.

Your nieces and nephews will sop up the ether of the moment. It’s good ether. When people get together to work together to make things better, it’s the best version of those people coming together. Your nieces and nephews will somehow apprehend the special sauce of the moment. They will get it, and they will relish it.

They will revere you for bringing them into this moment. Doing work—fun. Completing tasks—fun. Working with a group toward a common purpose—fun. Working toward a common purpose larger then ourselves—what could be better?

Select your volunteer projects wisely. Choose projects that are well organized and meaningful, so that your time and the kids’ time is well spent and you get something done.

Make sure that somehow food is part of the experience. Kids appreciate an immediate, tangible and relevant reward for their efforts. If the volunteer project doesn’t center around a celebratory meal at the end or offer a great lunch, don’t pick that project. If you have to take your nieces and nephews for a bite after the project, then do that. Just make sure that the kids get fed with something they really like, and that they connect that great meal with their volunteer project.

Do good work, hang out with fun people who have big hearts, and eat. That’s the formula.

Yes, Even Pulling Weeds

2011-04-26T12:08:00.000-07:00

This week I saw a master uncle in action pulling weeds with his niece, and having fun with it.

First, Peter’s not the real uncle, but a neighbor, so the other weed-puller fun-haver, Nina, isn’t his niece. No matter.

Peter was over at the house with a bunch of other people who came to help out. Nina’s father has fallen ill, and his colleague organized a barn raising. A dozen co-workers and friends descended on Nina’s house to work on the plumbing, clean up the yard, fix the irrigation system and even, yes, pull weeds.

While all the flurry of action was happening all around them, Nina and Peter quietly carved out their own corner of the back yard and worked on the weeds. Peter somehow made an expedition out of the project.

Peter would say, “This one has really long roots,” as he extracted a cheeseweed. “You need to get the roots, otherwise it just grows back,” he explained to Nina. Nina was paying attention.

Nina grasped her own cheeseweed, pinched firmly, and pulled sincerly. Up came the cheeseweed, roots intact, from the moist ground. She seemed quite satisfied with the result, gauging by the smile she radiated.

“I got all the roots, Peter,” she said, waving the cheeseweed gently in the air.

“Nice work. I like it when the whole thing comes up like that,” Peter said.

"I like it, too," Nina agreed.

Then they continued to hunt for more cheeseweed, chatting and pulling and giggling.

Peter led Nina to a huge cheeseweed. She grabbed and pulled. Not without a struggle, the cheeseweed yielded. The roots were enormous, six inches long at least, on this one-inch-tall plant.

Nina and Peter gave each other fist bumps in celebration.

When the weeds were all gone, they went into the kitchen to warm up from the chilly, cloudy time outside. Nina went to tell Mom all about it: cheeseweeds and roots and how you have to get the roots and the giant cheeseweed with the giant roots.

Mom gave Peter one glance, as if to say, “This is your doing, isn’t it?” Peter pretended not to notice, but grinned just a little.

“Now what are we going to do?” asked Nina.

Peter replied, “We’ll find something.”

Go Fast and Have Fun

2011-04-24T08:02:00.000-07:00

Professional triathlete Jasmine Oeinck is the real deal. She has earned amazing credentials. She was two years in a row the top

U.S.

triathlete in the under 23-years-old class, and in 2009 came in first place in the U.S. National Triathlon competition.

Jasmine also co-founded Bulumu Granola, a company based on the values of sustainability and passion for life. Bulumu is a word that Jasmine and her mom invented to sign off their emails, as Jasmine was jetting around the globe racing triathlons as a 19-year-old professional. It stands for Buckle Up, Love You, Miss You—Bu Lu Mu. And Jasmine’s granola is fuel for people to pursue their passion.

Last month Jasmine had a chance to talk with athletes in the Flagstaff Academy Youth Triathlon Club. These are kids from pre-school to 8^th grade who are doing swim-bike-run training and racing. She talked to them about training for races and other elements of triathlon.

Then she summed up her advice:

“If I had one bit of advice to give young triathletes, it would be this,” said Jasmine.

“Go as fast as you can.

“Swim as fast as you can, and bike as fast as you can and run as fast as you can.

“And have fun.”

Those are words to live by, like fuel for your passion.

Aunt v. Coach: Four Roles in Common

2011-04-20T20:55:00.000-07:00

Compare and contrast: aunt versus coach.

Oh, let’s just compare.

Both aunts and coaches need to do four things. This comes from a book by Robert Dilts called From Coach to Awakener. It’s a great book.

First and foremost, both aunt and coach have to make sure that the kids in their care remain safe and healthy. The parents aren’t around, so it’s up to you. Their kids—for now, at least—are your kids. That means you cannot let them eat broken glass, walk tightropes six stories up or play with blowtorches. You have to bring them back to the parents in the same functioning state in which you received them. Except giddier. Remember, they are supposed to have fun with you, not use molten metal for crème rinse.

Second, aunt and coach need to teach kids how to play the game. Whatever game that is, from Bananagrams to soccer, there are rules that make the game playable (hence fun) and kids need to know the rules. It’s up to you to teach them. Go Fish has rules. Jump rope has rules. Hopscotch has rules. Games you make up with your nieces have rules. Help them learn the rules.

Third, aunt and coach need to teach skills. In soccer, kids need to know how to get into position, how to kick with both feet (kick the soccer ball, I mean), stop the ball without using their hands, and challenge the ball. In hopscotch, kids need to learn the skills of …wait, I forget what hopscotch is.

Anyhow,

Fourth, both aunts and coaches take an interest in the personal development of the kids in their care. Call it sportsmanship, sense of accomplishment, exceeding self-imposed limits, teamwork, fairness or any other wonderful human quality that kids learn through sports and group activities, this is the fourth dimension.

Pablo Picasso said, "I am always doing things I can’t do, that is how I get to do them.” Kids need to come up against their physical limits sometimes, so that they can exceed them. That's a character builder—doing more than you thought was possible, in a safe environment (level one).

Perhaps you can best appreciate this by recalling times when you've seen it go wrong. A coach loses his head, gets wrapped up in the game, and forgets about the personal development of the kids. If you think that the most important thing in a soccer game of seven-year-olds is winning, you can stop reading right here and move along to someplace else. Or maybe, you are exactly the one who should keep reading.

Carry on.

These four levels of care and development are hierarchal, so that each higher level contains all the functions of the lower levels. Even when you are teaching rules, or skills, or stick-to-itiveness, you still need to ensure that your kids refrain from drinking bleach. At least until you chuck them back over the wall to their parents.

Above all, the activities in these four levels need to be fun.

Wait, fun and rules, you ask? Sure. Make up a game to explain the rules. Switch roles to make the kids the referees. Use a little creativity.

Above all above all, bring 'em back alive. Level one. Ensure their personal well being and physical safety. If you get a chance, help them learn the rules of the game. And if you have more opportunity, teach some skills. And if the chance pops up, instill some personal development, some character-building, such as sportsmanship or teamwork.

But remember, aunt or coach, bring 'em back alive.

More at www.auntsandunclesguide.com

If you can’t say something nice, don't say anything at all.

2011-04-17T05:43:00.000-07:00

If you can’t say something nice, don't say anything at all.

Maybe you have heard this phrase, long ago being spoken by someone older and wiser than you.

"If you cannot say something nice about someone, don't say anything at all."

It is great advice.

Remember the last time that you were saying something unkind about someone. Even if it were true, the things you pointed out, the way you phrased them and your tone were unflattering, at best.

Then pops up that person, the object of your description, out of nowhere, having heard your whole speech, or at least enough to get the point.

Your eyes dart around for a hole to crawl into. You rifle your brain for some excuse, but frantically realize that you are caught, apprehended, trapped. You blush and stammer and panic, then give up and get ready to take your medicine.

Your sheepish smile doesn't make anything better, but you can't help smiling it.

And in the back of your head, ever so faintly, you hear that voice of wisdom echoing around in the panicked emptiness of your skull: "If you can't say something nice about someone, don't say anything at all."

"When oh when am I going to learn to live by this?" you ask yourself. "How many times am I going make this mistake before I remember to live by these words?"

You smack your forehead with the flat of your hand, and mutter and shake your head.

When your nephew starts to run somebody down, as soon as he starts, just stop him. Do not brook this behavior. Just say, "Oh, we don't do this around here. If you can't say something nice about somebody, don't say anything at all."

Give that a moment to sink in, then...

"Would you say that if the person were here and could hear you? No? You wouldn't?

"Then let's not do it behind his back.

"Because some day, if you say bad things about others, that person will hear you. What do you think that will feel like?

“Everybody in life is in a bit of an uphill struggle. We should be kind to them.”

Maybe your nephew will pick up this wisdom and live by it. We can hope.

What are you going to do to finally, once and for all, live by these words?

Try this:

Make a little movie in your mind's eye of the next time you get a chance to say something bad about somebody (else). Now right before you start in, in your own movie, have yourself say, "I wouldn't say this to the person's face, so I won't say it now." And make another short movie in your mind's eye of another time when you have the opportunity to live the magic phrase, "If you can't say anything nice..." and have the movie go just as you wish it to.

And then picture your nephew, who reveres you, and think of how shocked, shocked he would be to discover if you didn't live by your own advice.

Live by the words. Set an example. Be one of those people who never get caught saying unkind things about others--never caught because you never say them. Picturing your nephew and being the stand-up person he thinks you are--that will be your ally.

www.auntsandunclesguide.com

Tracing Paper

2011-04-15T13:11:00.000-07:00

Do you remember tracing paper?

Uncle Aunt Niece Nephew Uncle book auntsanduncles guide.com

Your nephew doesn’t remember tracing paper, because he’s never seen it.

Tracing paper is really fun stuff.

If you don’t have any tracing paper lying around, go to the place where you keep your jumbles of wrapping paper. There’s possibly some tissue wrapping in that heap, and it will work fine for the purpose.

Okay, I agree—this is probably for younger kids. But tracing is a blast. Find a printed image that your nephew really likes, or at least is intrigued by, gather up some pencils or pens (colored pencils are great) and trace away. When you take up the tracing paper from the original—bang! It’s a masterpiece.

www.auntsandunclesguide.com

Listen, Really Listen

2011-04-14T09:21:00.000-07:00

A big part of listening is shutting up so that your niece has a chance to talk.

But it’s hard to do.

She mentions something, which triggers a related image in your mind and then you want to talk about what just popped up in your head.

It’s normal behavior, but it doesn’t help your niece open up and keep talking.

To give her all the room she needs to keep the conversation going, try the 3:1 rule.

Your niece gets to say three things before you get to say one, then she gets three more.

Your one thing might be a question or follow on to what she just said, to give her the opportunity to expand and expound.

The 3:1 listening ratio takes a bit of practice, but it’s worth it.

So rarely does anybody ever really listen. Many (most) conversations aren’t really all that productive. In turn, each listener is waiting for the speaker to finish so he can start talking.

With kids, this style is deadly. One or two rounds of that and they get it that you really aren’t listening, but instead just awaiting to talk. So they clam up and wander off.

Who wouldn’t?

Try the 3:1 listening ratio and see if you don’t become a hero, just for really listening.

Are You Going to Become a Scholar?

2011-04-13T13:55:00.000-07:00

Our next door neighbor way back when was John Z. Soso. He was a remarkable fellow. He was an elementary school principal in San Francisco, and was perhaps the first one to have his school painted red, white and blue, back in 1976. He also served in the U.S. Army infantry in

Italy

in World War II, although he never talked about that. And he had a deep influence on the kids in the neighborhood.

But in a subtle way.

One day he spied me out in front of the house. I was about five or six then. He asked me, “Are you going to become a scholar?”

“What’s a scholar?”

Mr. Soso answered, “A scholar is someone who learns about a lot of things and really loves it.”

“I want to be a scholar,” I replied.

Okay, how long did this exchange take? Ten seconds?

What six-year old wouldn’t have said “yes,” especially when the revered Mr. Soso asked?

And now, fully 50 years later, I really love to learn.

On another occasion, Mr. Soso spied me again out front. He offered, “You know, you are going to spend about one-third of your life working, so you might as well work at something really worthwhile that you will enjoy. Okay, gotta go.” And off he went.

From that instant, I never considered having a job. I decided to have a career. Not that I didn’t have jobs along the way, washing and gassing cars to get through college and working at a pharmacy while in school. But I never considered not having a career that provided excitement and fulfillment and learning.

There are two of the briefest of exchanges between Mr. Soso and me that shaped my life.

Finally, one day he asked, “Will, are you publishing anything?”

I was in high school by now. With my face scrunched up as a 15-year-old boy can do, I asked, “Publishing? Publishing what?”

Mr. Soso said, “You should think about publishing an article here and there, about things you are interested in and know something about.”

End of discussion.

Start of this blog.

Your Own Video Festival

2011-04-11T06:55:00.000-07:00

It's a holiday, and the cousins are assembled around a couple of computers. They have their own video festival going on.

“Okay, okay, look at this one,” says Audrey and she opens up a two-minute YouTube video of a cat dancing around.

Her cousin Irish counters with an internet video she knows about a happy penguin running around the rookery.

Gales of laughter as big as the gales of Antarctica ensue.

I boot up an old TV commercial showing cowboys herding cats across the prairie. It goes over pretty well.

Cousin Jill tosses in her nomination, clicking on a video about a budding Jedi doing the Star Wars light saber dance.

Britney has a short video to show, too: Marcel the Shell.

And on it goes. Two computers, good internet connection, and some ideas about goofy, fun videos to watch. The cousins taking turns offering their favorite short clips.

Their own video festival.

McGuckin Factor

2011-04-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

In our town we have a great hardware store called McGuckin Hardware. I like them because they have everything and they have floor staff who know where to find everything, and they have enough floor staff that you can find them.

They have something more.

The floor staff know not only where in the store all the stuff is, but also they know what questions to ask.

You might bring your nephew or niece to the store with you while in the middle of a plumbing repair project at home. You bring to McGuckin some weird contortion of copper tubing and brass fittings and rubber gaskets, and ask the employee in the plumbing department the essential question: “Do you have one of these?”

Then the magic.

The McGuckin person asks a return question: “What are you trying to do?” Instead of just saying, “We don’t carry that,” or “I think we are out of stock,” or even “I think it’s on Aisle 3,” she will want to know what on earth you are trying to fix. Once she gets a good idea of the nature and scope of your project, she can help you solve your problem.

You don’t come to McGuckin for a part, you come for a solution. The staff there want you to go home and succeed. So they ask a really great question. They ask, “What are you trying to fix?” Then they can suggest the right configuration of plumbing parts or whatever. And give you advice about how tightly (or not) to turn the wrench on the faucet washer, or whether or not to use plumbing tape on the threads.

They are focused on providing solutions, not selling stuff.

With your siblings’ kids, resist the temptation to give quick, even obvious answers, to their situations, dilemmas and questions. Ask another question—“What are you trying to do?” Gather some more information. Ask a few follow-up questions.

Many times, your niece will figure out her own answer if you ask her enough questions.

This really happened to me. At work, a colleague from another department came into my office, closed the door behind her, sat down, and said she needed advice. She then told a quick story about being wronged by her supervisor, and wondered what she should do about it. Her story hit me in a soft spot, and I choked up to the point where I couldn’t speak. Being embarrassed by my tears welling up and focusing on tying to maintain some composure, and being all grabbed at the throat, I couldn’t utter a sound.

After a few seconds of my silence to her question, she went on a bit about what alternatives she was considering, and asked what I thought.

Still, I’m locked up and can’t even croak.

Then she does some thinking-out-loud analysis of the alternatives, and settles on one. “What do you think about that idea?” she says.

I’m still speechless, grappling with my emotions and still all choked up.

“Well, that seems like a great idea. I think it will make things a lot better. I’m going to do that. Thanks. You really helped me. That’s a great idea,” she said, then got up and trotted off, problem solved.

I never in this whole exchange, uttered a single syllable. Not one. It was my finest work.

With your nieces or nephews, when they come to you for help, first, ask another question. “What are you trying to do?” A problem well stated is half solved. Get to the bottom of the problem.

Then find out what they have already considered as possible solutions.

And maybe let them talk it out. The solution they find—on their own—

will teach them more and work better than the one you jump to offer.

Sometime when you are in Boulder, go visit McGuckin Hardware. And bring your niece. She’ll like it. They have everything. Especially great questions.

Early Experiences Form Lifetimes

2011-04-02T09:34:00.000-07:00

“I think I must have learned to climb before I could walk; Father Simard, who lived upstairs in a house we were renting, encouraged me to crawl up the stairs where I was rewarded with a spoonful of honey. When I was about six, my brother, Gerald, took me out fishing and sneaked a ten-inch pickerel onto the end of the line and made believe I caught it. I’ve been hooked on fishing ever since.” Yvon Chouinard, Let My People Go Surfing, p 8.

Kids form their passions early in life. And some say that a child’s core values are pretty well installed by age 6. Age 6.

If that’s true, then what experience, what passions, what values do you want your young nieces and nephews to have?

You can be deliberate about selecting their passions and values.

Imagine that. One experience with fishing, and bam! Yvon Chouinard is a lifelong fisherman.

If these early experiences are so powerful, so life-shaping, let’s use that to our advantage. Explore life-shaping experiences with your young nieces and nephews. Go find a bird’s nest. Hike in the woods. Swim. Take them fishing. Let them clamber over rocks. Take them to an art museum.

The main thing is to have them have fun, and to see you having fun with that same fun thing. They take their cues about what’s good or bad by watching you, to see how you sum it up. Go to an art museum, yawn, look at your watch every seven minutes, roll your eyes in your head, and make some choice comments about how boring this is, (“Hell, anybody could paint that thing.) and you have put an indelible pall over art and museums.

On the other hand…

Show interest. Demonstrate curiosity. “I wonder why the painter put this little ray of light coming through this window?” you ask your niece. “Why do you think he did that?”

Once, while hiking in Yosemite Valley with a group of high school students, I spied an uplifted clod of leaf litter, about the size of a pie plate on a two-inch pedestal on the forest floor. I stopped, pointed and said, “Hey, wait a minute. What’s this?” and asked a student to lift up that round chunk of forest floor. Underneath is a giant, red-capped mushroom. After that, everybody in the group is forever searching for more of these big, beautiful mushrooms. Not to eat, of course, but just to find and look at. Like an Easter egg hunt.

On purpose, with great deliberation, you can help shape very positive passions and values in your siblings’ kids.

Do fun things and demonstrably have fun doing them. And do worthwhile things, too. Back to young Yvon Chouinard: “Somewhere along Route 66 we stopped at an Indian Hogan, and my mother took out the preserved corn she had put up for the trip and gave it all to a Hopi woman and her hungry children. That incident was probably my first lesson in philanthropy.” Let My People Go Surfing, p 8.

Now young Yvon, early in life, is a climber, fisherman and philanthropist.

While this is especially true that young kids are shaped early, reinforcement of valuable values in later years is also important.

“When I was seventeen, I saw Glenn Exum teaching his son, Eddie, how to fly cast over by the climbing school shack (in the Grand Teton mountains of Wyoming). Glenn was a mountain guide and a climbing legend in the valley. He was also and elegant caster and a superb dry fly fisherman. When he saw me watching he yelled, “Come on over here, son!” and proceeded to teach me to cast with a fly. I put away my spinning rod and superduper lures and have fished exclusively with flies ever since.” Let My People Go Surfing, p 13.

The kindness of a stranger, one simple act, changed Yvon’s life in a positive way.

Yvon Chouinard is founder and Owner of Patagonia, one of the most innovative and forward-looking companies in the world. Makers of climbing and outdoor equipment and clothing, Patagonia is based on a strong set of enviable core principles around fair dealing, elegance of design, functionality and sustainability. They have a 100-year business plan. Yvon co-founded 1% for the Planet, an association of more than 400 business donating 1% of profits to environmental sustainability.

Chouinard is a climber, fisherman, and philanthropist. All started at an early age, but a few seminal imprints.

Do you have the chance to help nurture another Yvon Chouinard with your nieces and nephews?

Catch them doing things right

2011-04-01T20:11:00.000-07:00

April 1, 2011

There are two ways to make an impression on a kid about her actions and performance. One—point out everything she is doing wrong. Two—catch her doing things right.

Which one do you want a kid to remember, to have imprinted on her young, indelible mind? What she is doing wrong, or what she is doing right?

I’ll give you a minute to think about your answer.

While you are thinking, remember some advice that George H.W. Bush received when he was president: “You can’t veto your way to greatness.”

Okay, time’s up.

Kids remember—and act upon—those things that make the biggest imprint in their minds. If you’d rather your nieces and nephews remember and focus on things that they are doing right and well, catch them in the act and comment on it.

At soccer practice, when you see your niece hustle into position as the ball changes possession, tell her so. “You really have a feel for the field. I really like the way you got into position at that last turn.”

Okay, I know what you are thinking: “But what do I say when she is doing something wrong?”

Simple. Tell her what is the right thing to do, then compliment her as soon as she does it.

Back to soccer.

Your niece is statute miles out of position, and the opponent is roaring the ball down the field. You could call out, “Position, Ellie, position! Get back and help the goalie.” When Ellie finds her spot on the field, you could say, “That’s what we are looking for. Great position! More of that!”

If Ellie is doing something dangerous, go ahead and intervene. Then explain the right thing to do in that situation, and move along. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. “Oh, we just don’t do that around here.” That kind of thing.

Watch your siblings’ kids to see what they are doing well and right. Catch them in the act. And compliment them.

Listen to Their Sports Stories

2011-03-31T07:41:00.000-07:00

You have all kinds of stories from your youth that you could tell your nieces and nephews.

Save them for another time.

When your siblings’ kids want to tell you about their present-day sports endeavors, just listen.

You could, of course, counter their stories about your days as a competitive swimmer, or regale them about your championship soccer game, or even show then your operation scars on your football knee.

But don’t.

Let your niece tell her whole story about the swim meet last weekend. How cold the water was. How she anchored the 200 x 4 freestyle relay, and caught the swimmer ahead to nab second place. And what a hero that made her with her relay teammates.

Ask for more.

“How did you know how far behind you were?”

“Did you think you could catch her?”

“What was it like to hit the wall in time and realize that you pulled it out?”

It’s her moment. Let her revel in it.

Most conversations are really two people talking right past each other. One waits more or less patiently for the other to finish talking so that he can get his turn to talk. What he says may have some relevance to the previous speaker’s words—or not. At any rate, it’s just ping-pong, sentences pinging and ponging back and forth. Each person can hardly wait for the other one to shut up so he can talk. And, he’s not really listening anyway. He’s thinking about what he’s going to say next.

You can do better.

Ask, don’t tell.

When your nephew opens up about soccer practice, ask for more. Listen to what he just said, and ask a follow-on question about that very same thing. Give him plenty of space to expound.

And sometimes, just let the silence hang.

“Coach made us do 10 sprints at the end of practice. And if any of us didn’t make it in 18 seconds, we all had to run two more. It was hard.” Your nephew hangs his head a bit and talks into his chest.

“It sounds hard,” you reply.

“It was,” he says.

Now, you might be tempted to say, “You know, when I played football in college we had to do 1000 sprints at the end of practice, while carrying 500 pounds of lead ingots, up the stadium stairs and to the top of the Empire State Building, hopping on one leg on broken glass. Now that was hard.”

But don’t.

When your nephew says, “It was,” make a little nod to let him know you heard him. Then keep silent. Give him time to transition to the next thing he wants to say. Ten seconds of dead air feels like an eternity, but it’s not. It’s giving him the chance to keep talking.

It’s just love.

Uncle has an IPad

2011-03-19T09:20:00.000-07:00

IPad is uncle's new best friend.

Neva has a brand new little brother. And she just loves him. Oren is less than two weeks old, no longer as wrinkled as a raisin, but not yet as smooth as an ironed shirt, either. Neva thinks that Oren is terrific. She rocks his little car seat cradle thingy when he fusses and squirms. She calls for mom when she thinks Oren needs a snack. She announces to everyone, in clear, forceful tones, when Oren is pooping. "Hey everyone! Oren is pooping!"

One evening, when all the uncles and aunts show up with dinner, to spot mom and dad bit, Neva has more to do. After she shows off Oren and rocks him a bit, Neva is ready to be entertained. Uncle Jeremy is the favorite, hands down. Neva just calls him J. And Neva, all four years old of her, is ready to mix it up with J.

Neva and J kid around a bit, then get to it, when, magically, an IPad appears. J pulls up the piano keyboard app, and Neva bangs the virtual ivories with spirit, if not innate talent. Of course, J shows her how to slide the volume up to full blast. Now everyone can hear Neva pounding the keyboard. Not just everyone in the house, but everyone in the neighborhood.

"What else does it do?" Neva asks J as she hands him the IPad, flat as a tray waiting to be loaded with goodies. J provides the goodies.

"Look, it has a clinometer," says J as he buttons to that app. Neva cranks the IPad like the steering wheel on a bus to see the needle stay plumb and watch the numbers run up and down the scale. J says, "Now lay it flat." The bubble level pops onto the screen like a liquid emerald. Neva gives J The Look: "What does it mean?" she asks with that silent glance. "So, now we know that the kitchen table is not really level," J calls out in the general direction of Neva's father, who mutters something about having to add leveling the table to the to-do list.

Neva wants to know what else it does. This time she surrounds the IPad with her twiggy little arms. She's not giving it up, not to J, and that means not to anybody.

J reaches taps into the page dappled with a pallet of app icons. He points through each one and explains what it does. He saves the chalkboard app for last, then says, "Watch this." J invokes the chalkboard, and Neva is on it like a cat on a yarn ball. She figures out pretty quickly to select different colors of chalk, and scrawls around like a doodlebug. When Neva discovers that she can use all her fingers at once to make ten chalk lines in parallel, she becomes hard at work.

J shows her how to use the eraser, getting Neva to clear a little space, then the whole screen. Then he writes Neva, big and legible, in pink chalk, right in the geographic centers the screen. He hands the IPad to Neva and says, "Now you write, right over the letters that I wrote.”

Suddenly, Neva can spell and write her own name. Her parents take notice. Neva and J take turns writing over each other's words, spelling out the names of everyone present. Neva is decidedly and deservedly proud of herself. She can write and spell everyone's names. This is all going so well. Her parents have a mixed look of wonder and pride, but J? He has a different look, the seed of a smile underneath sprouting devil horns. J is about to show Neva another feature on the chalkboard. The one everyone dreads about a real chalkboard, which, by the way, young Neva has never seen. But whoever wrote this app has. Because he or she has programmed in—you got it—a little icon that looks just like...fingernails. Complete with sound effects. Neva beams as she rakes her fingernails down the chalkboard, and everybody squirms.

Young Neva trots the IPad over to show it to even younger Oren. He smiles as only a two-week-old can do.

I love this, Will. This could be a best-seller.

2007-02-26T11:12:00.000-08:00

If you want comments or ideas, here's mine.----Some of my favorite memories with my N&Ns are from making presents for their parents. That way, they get to "surprise" the parents. From tree ornaments to movies, aprons to art, we make a huge mess and have a great time. ----One of my favorite activities is making plaster casts of the children's faces and hands. They loved casting funny faces and contorted hand positions. It works for a wide variety of ages over about 5 and even adults have fun taking part. Basically, you cut plastered gauze into short pieces and set them aside. (That is the same stuff you make an arm or leg cast out of and comes from a medical supply store -- which is pretty darn cool to the kids in and of itself!) You then tie their hair back and completely smear the face with Vaseline, carefully avoiding eyes, nostrils and lips. Dip the pieces of plaster gauze in water, shake off the excess, and begin sticking them on the face, again carefully avoiding eyes, nostrils, lips and hair. Get a few layers on and keep shaping it to the face. Don't worry about rough edges. The child must sit perfectly still and quiet until it dries. (I might have fibbed a little about how long that plaster took to dry, but the break does give you a chance to clean up before the white blobs become permanent on your furniture.) Then gently pull the mask off and let it completely dry while they scrub the Vaseline and plaster dust off their faces. From there, you can paint, trim with scissors, make more, have fun. Use it as a mask at Halloween or display it as a piece of art. You can do the same with hands, but remember to cover only the top half so the cast can be lifted off. Older children can cast a top half and then a bottom half and put them together. You can put a rubber glove on them and scare your friends at Halloween! ---We take our N&Ns rafting when we decide they are big enough and mature enough. More important than the actual boat and water is the right of passage that we have created. We get to look forward to it for a long time and then we get to remember it and talk about it for even longer. ---My mother always kept a drawer of stuff for kids to play with, mostly to keep the kids occupied while the adults did whatever needed to be done. When Mama died, I gathered her stuff into a big basket, adding some of her old colorful scarves and trinkets that I pick up at conventions. Now when young N&Ns come over, we dress up, build "forts" with sofa cushions, and play with puzzles and games. As we play, I soak up my mother's energy, recreating the best of my childhood.

Lynn Sadler

The Definitive Guide to Being an Aunt or Uncle

2007-01-31T15:53:00.000-08:00

Close your eyes for a second and picture your favorite aunt or uncle. I’ll bet you are smiling right now. Aunts and uncles are special people in our society. They fill the role of adults who kids can talk with and look up to. Aunts and uncles make a big contribution by helping their siblings’ kids grow up with solid role models and with additional learning that their parents and grandparents can’t provide. Everybody has a favorite aunt or uncle, or both, whether a blood relative or an unrelated person so fondly considered that the family just naturally calls him “uncle.”

Everybody's got a favorite story about their favorite aunt or uncle. We are collecting such stories and want to hear yours.