How's your filter?

My grandmother has Alzheimer's disease. She's living in a nursing home right now. And while Alzheimer's is a sad disease, it has brought some funny moments. It seems that Grandma's filter is gone now. You know, that filter that stops you from saying things that might be inappropriate or at least better left unsaid.

Last weekend a nurse offered Grandma a chocolate milkshake. She took it, sucked it right down, and declared, "That was better than sex!"

To which the nurse responded, "It would be pretty hard for you to say that, considering you had 13 kids!"

We've laughed and said Grandma has probably been thinking these things her whole life and is only know actually saying them out loud. Whether it's a result of her disease or she figures at 87 years old, she's earned it, only Grandma knows.

Little kids have to be taught to use their filters. I remember once when Annie was about 3 or 4 years old. I was holding a friend's new baby. Annie came over and I said, "Look Annie. Isn't she cute?"

Annie matter-of-factly replied, "Eh. Kind of cute. Kind of ugly" and ran off to play, leaving me mortified and stammering for an appropriate apology.

Has your kid ever asked someone, regardless of gender, when the baby was going to come out of their belly? And the person. was. not. pregnant.

There are days I really wish my filter was broken. When I would like to just let loose whatever sentiment comes to mind, regardless of to whom it is directed and how it might affect them. Facebook seems to be the corner coffee shop of those with broken filters. Like the inability to see the reaction on someone's face somehow absolves the "speaker" from the consequences of what they've just put out there.

Sometimes I think a filter leak is a good thing. It gets people's attention, maybe wakes them up to something they've not been able to see before. But mostly, I trust my filter to keep me in the "treat others as I want to be treated" mode. 

Remember "You've Got Mail?" Joe Fox (Tom Hanks) had no filter and often regretted it. Kathleen Kelly (Meg Ryan) had a broad filter and often felt frustrated by it. I suppose the secret to these filters is, like everything else in life, balance.

So how's your filter? Do you say what you want when you want to? Or do you bite your tongue as a matter of etiquette and good will?

Eating my words

I should know better than to make broad declarations that start with "MY child will NEVER..." Doing so makes eating those words a little tough.

Today, I'm chewing up and digesting the statement "MY child will NEVER get a cell phone until she's in high school." Yep. Despite my outspokenness about how kids don't need cell phones, this afternoon I took Annie to Best Buy and we picked out a red LG Xenon phone just for her.

I'd started to soften my position on kids and cell phones last spring when she started babysitting and I felt like it might be good for us to be able to reach her where ever she was sitting. But, I reasoned that we could just call her on the house phone wherever she was.

Then, this summer, she got dropped off at the wrong swimming pool for a swim meet. But a nice person let Annie use her phone and we got her where she was supposed to be. No harm done.

The clincher happened this morning.

Mike dropped her off at a local high school for swim practice. It turns out the doors were locked and she couldn't get in. Apparently, after unsuccessfully trying to chase her dad down in the parking lot, she freaked for a moment, had a good cry and then sought out other options. She found an open door at an adjacent building, located an office staffer who let her use the phone and called Mike.

Of course, by the time he got back there a few minutes later, the swim coach showed up and everything was ok.

But it was enough for me to toss my declaration out the window and get the girl a phone. Adding her to our family plan will only cost another $10/month. That's money well spent for her safety and my peace of mind, I think. Plus, she's going to work that $10 off in chores or fork over cold, hard cash each month.

And we're not letting her go hog wild. No data plan. She can text (she's already sent 60-some text messages today. Good thing I upped the plan from 200 text messages a month to unlimited texting), but not send or receive pictures or photos. No taking the phone to school. Homework first, phone access second. Hopefully those are enough parameters.

I don't want to make too many "thou shalts" and "thou shalt nots." After all, I'm still trying to swallow the "MY child will NEVER..."