Taking Candy from Your Baby

Posted on November 5, 2009 by 40andover

So, here I am at 7:25pm on Thursday after Halloween and I am eating candy that my son gathered on his trick-or-treating extravaganza. I am feeling guilty, but only a little. My son is 7 years old so it isn’t exactly like taking candy from a baby (she writes defiantly).

Halloween was its usual hell-ish experience. As I have written before, I don’t like the holiday because of, among other things, the ghoulish costumes and behaviors, and I didn’t know what to do with the carved pumpkin except put it in the refrigerator where one would normally put ripened or cut fruit. Leave it out for the bugs and the vermin? Now, that’s not a plan for an urban dweller who likes to keep both nature’s jungle and the urban jungle at bay.

A major issue was my son’s costume. He did not want to dress up and wanted a general pass on the occasion (that’s my son!!). POB (partner of blogger) had long ago convinced me that Halloween was important (as were scooters and other toys of potential death and dismemberment) because we should stress social inclusion (but not assimilation or group think).

As you can tell POB is the intellectual in the family because I am still trying to apply these principles to daily life and parenting. Realizing that I was still struggling, she recently restated her position in words I can understand: having two moms will be tough enough when he is a teenager, do you want to add the deficit of Halloween? Because we are two women, our son’s societal acceptance depends on celebrating Halloween. Ok, I get that thinking. Sort of. My straight parents were dismissive of some societal norms and my college friends thought I was a Soviet spy. It was lovingly meant as weird and kooky, I think.

So, Halloween it is. It took some cajoling for our son to agree to a costume: “why can’t I be ME?” he asked. As part of the inclusion model, I did not say that a transitive verb takes a subjective pronoun and the question is “why can’t I be I?” which, while non-sensical, is grammatically correct. But I digress.

He loves the Natural History Museum which was founded by early 20th century President Teddy Roosevelt. So, he decided that he would be Teddy Roosevelt in the age of the Rough Riders. We got a rough rider hat, bandana, round spectacles and I taught him to say, “bully, bully!!” just like Roosevelt. But it was a little — how shall I say — cerebral for a 7 year-old.

Mindful of inclusion model, I tried to get him to think more commercially — work with me on the inclusion part here — and I asked, wouldn’t you like to be a Power Ranger or an X-Man? Nah, not so much. Teddy Roosevelt it was.

My parents would have beamed with pride and joy if I wanted to dress up as Eleanor Roosevelt for Halloween. One generation later, I am begging my son to be an X-Man. There is a PhD thesis in here somewhere but not now.

Needless to say, in No-Where-istan, there is no Halloween.

Soldiers and civilians will die whatever the Afghanistan strategy

Posted on October 11, 2009 by 40andover

G-d bless the men and women in our armed services. They put their lives on the line in Somalia, on the DMZ between the Koreas, in Afghanistan, in Pakistan and in many other places known and unknown. They are heroes. (Ok, there are some gross exceptions to the rule — Abu Gh’raib for example.)

I hate the war in Iraq and I know I am blessed to have others fight those dangerous battles. Regardless of how you feel about the war, the veterans deserve all that a grateful nation should give them — honor, respect, the best medical care in the world, the best jobs, the best education for them, their spouses and children, economic security in old age and even throw in a country club membership. And still, there is no way to repay the dedication and honor of these brave souls who have seen and done the unspeakable.

Afghanistan seems to be a quagmire. We are damned if we pull out, we are damned if we keep the status quo and there are no assurances of success if we commit further troops there. In short, soldiers and civilians will die no matter what decision is made.

I will not allow my son to fight unless there is an imminent threat to our country. And, in that case, I will go to war with him to protect this nation. So, I can’t say that other people’s children should go.

For everyone involved in the decision-making process, I hope they have children in the line of fire. Then, I’ll believe it is the best decision and not a political one.

School days

Posted on October 6, 2009 by 40andover

Today was our parent-teacher conference. Our son is blossoming at his new school. The feedback is that, although he has some areas that require work, he is smart, well-liked and presents as a kind, warm-hearted kid. (Note to self: confirm we are really talking about the same child.) That is great news.

After the conference, we wait because he wants to come out and greet us. He runs into our arms and then runs away because he is in the middle of something he finds fun. (Note to self: wait until later to cry over how independent he is.)

After last year’s terrible experience in a large public school, my son who needs some extra attention, is finding his place in his new school. And we, his moms, are slowly shedding the stress of last year and enjoying the re-kindled love of school and learning. (Note to self: approach networks about a made-for-TV movie.)

It is true that a parent is only as happy as his/her saddest child. Today, my son is happy. And if my son is happy, then the economy can stink (but not for much longer). Life is good today.

Tainted Beef, Still a Problem after 100 years

Posted on October 5, 2009 by 40andover

I read this weekend about a young girl paralyzed by eating a hamburger tainted with bacteria.

In the 1900s, reporters and journalists — among them Upton Sinclair, Lincoln Steffens and Ida Tarbell — wrote articles and books detailing, among other things, the unclean practices in meat-packing factories.

One hundred years later, we still read about tainted meat. Not in a third world country. Right here in the USA.

It seems that most of the strides made in sanitary food preparation have been lost in the era of de-regulation.

We need more and better inspectors and real, catastrophic economic sanctions against operators of packaging companies that produce tainted food. In some of the most egregious cases, the unsanitary conditions are obvious to the untrained eye. We need to make it too costly to produce unhealthy products.

How many more children must die or be crippled by E Coli or other dangerous bacteria festering in our food production plants?

David Letterman, Senator Ensign, Roman Polanski

Posted on October 4, 2009 by 40andover

There are no parallels among these men.

David Letterman did get out in front of the “scandal”. That was smart media. As long as the women with whom he was intimate were consenting adults — that means without fear for their jobs or career advancement — then it is just another philandering person. What makes it news is that he is a TV star. What is sad is that sexual harassment happens everyday and there is no famous star to blackmail to make it stop. David Letterman has a lot of heartache ahead of him. But he doesn’t need to apologize to me.

Conversely, Senator Ensign needs to apologize to his voters because he is a fraud — he is not the “family values” candidate that his constituency elected and he broke the public trust in the cover-up. His extra-marital affair was not criminal or actionable — consenting adults without any specter (so far) of harassment in the workplace.

Roman Polanski is, based on the information available, a scoundrel and a sexual predator. A thirteen year-old is a child and is not capable of consent in sexual circumstances. Justice delayed is justice denied. Lock him up and throw away the key.

Let’s not lump these men and their actions together. None is a shining star, but in only one case was there a sexual criminal. In another, it was the cover-up that is criminal. The third, well, unless we hear more, is just disappointing and ooky.

There is one guy, whose handle is TheFlaCracker on Twitter, who refers to all Libiots (liberal idiots) as defending Roman Polanski. That’s unfair. I am a G-d damn Democrat and liberal and a Hillary-lover. I am proud of it. But, child abuse is not a liberal or conservative issue. It is solely about our expectations and demands for the safety of society’s and our children.

The true measure of our society is how we treat the children others have “cast off”and those who abuse them.

Home Sick

Posted on October 2, 2009 by 40andover

My son complained of a sore throat and running nose this morning, enough so that my partner (POB — partner of blogger), who usually takes no prisoners, relented and let him stay home. She had meetings and I could telecommute, so I am staying home with him.

He wanted to watch cartoons, especially a particular one that combines his favorites — dinosaurs and trains. I told him no because being home sick is different than a vacation day. Now, he is feeling better and is bored and misses his friends at school. My child is whining, angry and saying hurtful things out of frustration. (I am not really sure he was sick in the first place.)

The usual child sturm und drang, right? No, not for our child.

This is a breakthrough for him to feel included, to say he misses his friends, to prefer to leave his toys behind and engage in a group activity, ALL at school. This is a great, great day in our lives.

The rest of Rosh HaShanah

Posted on September 21, 2009 by 40andover

Saturday the family came over for our traditional New Year’s lunch. It was pleasant and generally uneventful. Which is why I thought aliens had taken over my family. My sister did not go as far as to say that she agreed with my assessment, but she did note the absence of the usual guaranteed bloggable moments. The rest of the day was a blur except that I chugged Pepto Bismol.

Sunday, POB (partner of blogger) roused everyone to go to synagogue on the second day of the holiday. We went Friday night, we went Saturday morning (and dashed home to prepare for the luncheon). And now we are going to shul for the third day running? Did I go to sleep a Reform Jew and wake up Conservative? Is this my beautiful house, Is this my beautiful wife? How did I get here? WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Theological arguments were a non-starter. So, schlepped we did. Our son was fraying through this. After all, up to this point he was lovely and gentle and sweet-looking in his oh-so-cute bowtie. And he is a boy. And boys need to run around. A LOT. But, he was in services, I was chugging Pepto-Bismol, and he was acting out.

We went to a luncheon at our dear friends’ house that afternoon. Those present at the luncheon played connect the riffs of the rabbi’s talk on Saturday, to see who could string them all together into one message. People did brilliant jobs and came up with different conclusions. (After Friday night, I just played it safe at the children’s services.)

Bottom-line: Two days of RH are too much for me.

It is a beautiful morning in a house of mirth

Posted on September 18, 2009 by 40andover

Mornings are always hectic in our house. But not for me (note to self: be grateful; gloating could get you in trouble).

My partner (POB) is an early riser. My son has to be, too, since he needs to get to school on time. I hear the noise, confusion and (mostly) gentle prodding of our son to get ready. I am still lying in bed with a pillow over my head. Then in barrels our son, ready for some rough-housing in the morning (which he quaintly calls cuddling — even when we play two crashing trains). I rise to the occasion and then fall back in my bed when he scampers off to school. Off they go to school via bus or subway — more than I could ever manage.

For the first week of school, POB was away on business and our son was anxious about his new school. The cajoling and prodding took a long time. Plus, POB told me that we had to be there a whole 15 minutes earlier than necessary — a lifetime in the morning. Hmmmmm. She now feigns innocence as if I conjured this up out of the air. Obviously, since I was barely compos mentis at these early hours, we took cabs to school.

The minute POB returned from her trip, our son gave me up but said helpfully, “We were running late.” Thanks for the cover, bud. I appreciate your sticking by me as you rat me out. Note to self: have his aunt, “the vault”, teach him some pointers about secrets.

So, POB is strong, fearless and awake enough to take public transportation. Our family fisc thanks her.

The good news is that she is adaptive to any situation.

This morning I get an email from POB that recognizes and affirms me in all my frailties and is also practical:

“[Our son] had to use the bathroom on the way to school [NOTE: he never wants to go before he leaves so we get into this problem] so we ducked into McDonalds which took FOREVER so I channeled my inner [me, the blogger] and we took a cab. We made it just in time – and [our son] was truly apologetic so we vowed to launch the Morning Team to better figure this out.” [Note to self: keep your head down and don’t make eye contact, lest you are picked for the team.]

An episode in the morning of a house of mirth.

An excellent day

Posted on September 13, 2009 by 40andover

Every morning POB (partner of blogger) brings a mug of coffee for me and puts it on my bedside table, so I have coffee as I am waking up. I am a lucky person.

I am especially lucky this morning because the coffee is delicious and warm and my body is stiff and sore from my run yesterday and our son bounds into our bed and lunges over me to get the remote control lest we miss one moment of the senseless cartoons available to numb our children’s minds. Warm coffee (as opposed to piping hot) spills all over my jammies. Even if it were piping hot, I may not have been able to move. POB is already dressed and going out to get some groceries. No wonder I am tired. POB’s schedule is enough to exhaust TWO people.

I speak to my cousin who is recovering from major surgery and he says some chicken soup would do him good. What does POB do? Starts making chicken soup. I need a nap now and it isn’t even 10am.

By 10:45am, I am able to limp into the shower. Then we dash off to our son’s schoolmate’s birthday party. New school, new friends, new challenges. Our son is a little scared. We go to the amusement park and we meet up with the group and all is good. Except amusement parks remind me of horror flicks, sad clowns and freaky sideshows. There is an odd, clown-like man working at this place and I am as fascinated by him as I am ooked out.

Then pizza and cake and chaotic running around. The kids are so friendly and I can see that our son feels right at home. He has a crush on one girl whom he has known for many years — more than a crush really, because even though he is 7, he asked her to marry him and she said yes. But he is talking up another girl, too. Bad form, dude. It is your first week, so be circumspect with the girls. The other girl’s mom says that her daughter and my son may be competing for the affections of the same girl. I think, wow, this place is too groovy and hip for words. But I can tell already that there are back stories. I’ll ease into those. For now, I am happy because my son is happy.

POB and I are so happy that we do not want to ruin the moment by discussing wedding plans. As founding members of the Bridezombies, we have to set a standard for detail avoidance. We set a high standard. We are proud.

Family dinner tonight, but my sister and brother-in-law bag out. My sister cannot seem to follow doctor’s orders (even though she is a doctor) and her foot is not healing. She over-exerted and now can’t move. Let’s work through this problem together.

Let’s say you are a competent doctor (as in you didn’t get your medical degree from the internet) and another doctor whom you respect (as in it is ok for the doctor to examine you but not cut into you) tells you to use a cane and stay off your feet as much as possible. Then let’s say you have a conference where if you were really healthy you would stand all day and present an interesting case (work with me here; I know we are talking about diseases). So, even though you aren’t healthy, you stand all day and don’t use a cane.

Ok, so maybe my sister did get her medical degree from the internet.

Bottom line, Sis and the Man cannot come to Sunday night dinner. I call them afterward to tell them about the fun and the food they missed so they feel really bad. It is, in fact, the least I could do. My brother-in-law sends a grovelling email. A little more grovelling ought to do the trick.

A young cousin comes over. My son wants to know why he didn’t become a professional hockey player since he played in college. I want to know, too, because he is depriving the extended family of an element necessary to the true American family. We need a sports star. We already have doctors, lawyers, artists, entrepreneurs, felons (ok, only one), mixed marriages, gays and lesbians (ok, only one), etc. What a crowning achievement for a Jewish family to have a member who suits up in armor and carries a club to do battle on ice and someone keeps score. But, he is taking the easy way out and going to school, going into debt, to become a professional. So old school. Still, he is a lovely guy and it will be great to see more of him.

I am so happy to have (some of) my family together around my table. I think wistfully of a bigger gathering, one that includes my sick cousin, my dear cousin who is his niece, all together. I know my cousins who are uncle and niece need to work out their issues, but I love them both and family is so precious.

The first day of school

Posted on September 8, 2009 by 40andover

Tomorrow is my son’s first day at a new school. This is our dream school. It is small and the teachers and administrators really understand my son, his talents and his needs. He was so happy when we visited and he even enjoyed the day-long evaluation and interview process. When he was accepted to the school, I felt like we won the lottery. (Then we realized we needed to win the lottery to pay the tuition, but we pulled it together.)

Now, he is scared. He doesn’t want to go to school. My partner left for a business trip (bad timing) and all he wants to do is go to the airport and take a plane and find her and bring her home. I get it. I want to do that, too. I also get that he doesn’t want to start a new school, or go back to any school for that matter. But my heart is breaking because my little baby is sad and scared. He’ll be fine. I will be a wreck.

Just part of being a parent, I guess.

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Aging and living in urban US

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