You can't go home again... but if you do, at least put on some make-up.

On weekends I often go down to my parents' house, which is on a farm in a small town less than two hours from the city. I love it there. Not only because I get to spend time with two of my favorite people on the planet, but also because it's the perfect antidote to living in a big city. There's lots of space and grass and - of course - trees.

I don't often socialize in town when I'm visiting - in fact, I haven't seen most of the people I went to school with since I lived there... And unless I'm planning on going to church, I don't bring much more than a pair of jeans and a t-shirt - which was what I packed this weekend...

But this weekend my father was giving the commencement speech at the local college. I hadn't planned on attending, but at the last minute my mom asked me to go with her. So with a five-minute-to-departure warning I rummaged through the closet in my sister's old bedroom and pulled out a dress. I couldn't find any shoes though, so I borrowed a pair of my mom's. They were two sizes too big, but I was able to walk in them fairly easily.

As we pulled up to the building I commented to my mother that I hoped I wouldn't see anyone I knew. No one goes to graduations unless they're actually graduating, right? Wrong...

Now, if I were to plan for a reunion with people I hadn't seen in years I wouldn't show up in an ill-fitting dress and gigantic shoes. I probably would even have spent some time putting on make-up and taming my hair... But I didn't get to plan it. It turns out I got to see everyone exactly as I was... The universe has a funny sense of humor that way.

And maybe that's not a bad thing. Sometimes it's easier to give up being attached to how you appear to everyone else when you don't have a whole lot of control over it.

uncommon gifts

Jemma loves to give presents.

Sometimes when she goes out to pick up bagels with her dad she comes back with a surprise for me. Recently she returned with a bunch of blue daisies... Jemma knew I would appreciate them because, as she pointed out, "They're your favorite color." (In my very first blog post I indicated a rather low opinion of blue daisies - but my feeling about them has changed since then, if only because my daughter loves them so much.)

And although she enjoys giving candy and flowers she's not just a traditional gift-giver. The gift can be anything - a pebble, or even a scrap of paper... She seems to think sticks and leaves are especially appropriate... (And I guess they are, because of my near-obsessive attachment to trees...) The other day she found a twig on her way home from school, telling her babysitter, "This is perfect - Mommy will just love this!"

You can see they joy on her face when she's making an offering, but sometimes there's a sort of solemnity to the act as well. As if she understands that giving is much bigger than the gift itself...

Once, when presenting me with an ivy leaf, she placed her little hand over her heart and said, "Mommy, thank you for doing everything... And for doing everything with me."

New Normal

Feeling balanced is an obsession of mine. It’s easier to adjust my own behavior than deal with an imbalanced situation or relationship. Not the worst quality, but not the best either. And it’s tough being like this especially since I am attracted to strong personalities. Now that I say that, I’m thinking it’s more exhausting than tough.

Last year when my husband and I separated after eighteen years I was curious (and a little hesitant) to see who would emerge from behind my curtain. Never really spending time alone but always finding myself in a relationship of some form was my version of normal. I had no idea who I was alone.

So a year ago I stepped into this new space with an open heart and a lot of (required) empathy. Judging myself comes way too naturally, always has. The question that runs on a loop in my brain is, ”What took you so long to see that??” As unnatural as this felt I decided not judge myself and attempt to appreciate who emerged. Seriously scary stuff. I had a feeling it would be something like standing in front of the mirror completely naked and be forced to really look at myself (and not with one eye closed and one eye half open).

A year later I’m still learning who I am alone, but one thing has become clear…I like who I am in spite of all my multitudes of imperfections. Here’s why (and I am sure most people already know this, I just took a while to figure it out…there I go again judging myself): I discovered each and every one of my imperfections (and are there tons of those) are perfectly designed to teach me exactly what it is I so desperately need to learn. It is within my imperfections that I am perfectly defined. So now I am slowly learning to cut myself some slack and allow all those imperfections help my new normal emerge.

Remembrance of things past

Lemole Pharmacy (photo from video footage that was taken around 1940.)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uZck0B-p2rY

This past weekend we went out to Staten Island to visit the place where my grandfather's pharmacy used to be...

It was recently turned into a restaurant, and when my cousin Lauren suggested we check it out I was a little hesitant. Let's just say that accepting change isn't one of my greatest strengths...

I felt a little emotional walking in, because it seemed like I should be going into the pharmacy - the door is set at an angle, and has a very specific and unique quality to it... But once we were inside there was very little to remind me of the place I used to know. The windows were in the same place, obviously - and for the decor they had used a patterned ceiling reminiscent of the gorgeous tin that was one of my favorite features of the drug store. But apart from that - nothing... They had re-configured the space entirely, so that it was completely transformed.

I was able to enjoy my meal without dissolving into a blubbering mess... without even coming close. It was just lunch in a new place. We had a nice time, and the food was good. And we brought cannoli back for my dad.

In a way it feels as though we went to the wrong place. And somehow the memory of Lemole Pharmacy is untouched... I know it's not there anymore. But part of me secretly feels like it is...

morning ritual

Maybe it's because I ate almost the entire pan of strawberry-rhubarb pie yesterday... but I decided to run home from dropping Jemma off at school today instead of taking the subway or the bus. (That way I'd be sure to get some exercise instead of leaving it to chance to see if I end up at the gym at some point- which, if I wait until afternoon, usually doesn't happen...)

I don't like running. But I couldn't ask for a prettier route. The section of Riverside Park between where we live and Jemma's school is one of my favorite parts of the city. It runs along the Hudson River, and is shaded by enormous old trees... This morning was especially beautiful - and just cool enough that I knew I'd be grateful that I wasn't wearing a jacket once I started running. (Of course, with me it's really more of a jog, interspersed with periods of power-walking...)

Once I hit the park I found I was actually enjoying myself... And I wondered why I don't do this more often.

Then up ahead I noticed a man practicing a martial-arts routine. His movements were fluid, yet precise. And I remembered that I had seen him many times before as we passed by in the bus on the way to school. There is beauty in the way he performs his morning ritual with such commitment and grace that you can't help but recognize.

As I approached him he finished his routine, and the final move was a deep bow. I ran past... but as I did I felt my spirit pause and bow back to him.

Pinwheel of Death

My daughter’s computer went into “pinwheel of death" mode. Anyone with a Mac knows what that means. I’m pretty sure anyone with a computer has experienced that particular phenomenon (freezing up thing).

To say it was frustrating is putting it mildly. Especially since it happened at 7:10 am and we were supposed to leave the house at 7:15 am, or if not my oldest daughter would miss her bus, and then we would be thrown into panic mode to figure out a way to get everyone to school on time. And of course the paper my daughter wrote last night had to be turned in that day (the one she supposedly emailed me to print last night, which of course never made it to my inbox, and was currently stuck in pinwheel hell).

I decided I should remain calm since I was the adult in the room. Panic set in as I watched my daughter freak out. I was feeling helpless but somehow managed to remain calm.

In my efforts to stay calm a whole conversation was flying through my brain, “Okay…we have 5 minutes. 5 minutes to make that seriously irritating pinwheel go away, open up the file, email it to my computer, get the printer warmed up and hope nothing gets lost in the transition from my computer to the printer. Oh, and do we have paper? What about the internet, is it working right now?”

Talking my daughter through the panic I started to sound like a flight attendant…”Remain calm…only the engines shut down….we can fly, oh, for a good 2 miles without any engines working”. But what about after that when the plane drops out of the sky? Are we dead?

As we attempted to “shut down” the culprit software that was fueling the pinwheel I saw tears well up in my daughter’s eyes. Halfway to our finish line my daughter brightened up and announced, ”Hey, I have the file on my USB! We can print it from there!”

I love it. My daughter is better at problem solving than me. I remember my own version of problem solving back in the dark ages from my childhood when our biggest challenge was negotiating who would get up to change the channel on our TV (remote controls weren’t invented yet). Times a changing, and thankfully all before 7:15 a.m.

The Dr. Oz Show

Great show. Great fun. Great (and powerful) Oz...

Directionally Impaired

I can’t decide what to call this. Is it an issue, or a problem, or an opportunity (I like that one), or a challenge. Whatever it is doesn’t really matter or change the net result. I get lost, all the time. In fact, my kids are more used me driving in u-turns than straight. Pretty sad I think. Thank goodness it doesn’t look like my girls inherited this particular gene (I’m calling it a gene because I don’t want to have to take responsibility for it).

The day my life changed the most, excluding the days my girls were born, was the day I was lucky enough to get a navigation system in my car. For some people this can be considered a nice convenience, but for my family it really is a matter of survival. I actually have found that when I think I should turn one direction, 99% of the time it is the opposite direction that is correct. And sadly, the more I think about it and try to guess, the worse that statistic gets (as if it could get worse).

So I am a car-navigation addict, and my kids are the better for it. We all are. So happy I am not lost in LA somewhere, at least until something happens to my navigator. Oh God forbid.

strawberry-rhubarb crumble

Here's a great recipe for strawberry-rhubarb crumble... It's tart and sweet and utterly delicious. And it's sooooo easy to make. (Perfect cooking project to do with kids.)

P.s. This version doesn't have as much sugar as a lot of recipes out there. (Which in my book is a plus - it's better for you, and actually ends up tasting better too!)

Mix these together:
3 cups of strawberries (cut)
3 cups of rhubarb (diced)
3/4 cup of sugar
3 TBSP flour

Put the mixture into a buttered baking pan...

In a separate bowl, mix:
1 1/2 cups flour
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup rolled oats
1 cup butter

Crumble this over the top of the mixture in the baking pan.

Bake at 375 for about 45 minutes or until the 'crust' is golden brown.

You can eat it warm, but I've found it's just as good eaten cold out of the fridge for a midnight snack...

Tick-Tock

I like to be on time to things. Really, I do. Sadly that desire doesn’t always translate into reality.

I’ve spent a little time analyzing all the possible reasons this seems to be so and have come up with a few possibilities (disclaimer: any and all of these reasons could be true in my case).

1. I have too much going on (or, more likely, I plan too much because I don’t like to say no.).
2. I’m OCD (thus, I get stuck doing something, somewhere, anywhere).
3. I’m lazy (I’m 100% sure this is not my case because I think I have the opposite problem and can’t slow down).
4. My clocks / watches are slow (I wish).
5. My spiritual teacher, Eliyahu Jian, once told me being late is a sign of disrespect towards another person’s time. I have to agree with him. Not that I intentionally try to be disrespectful, but I think it is more that I might not be thinking about the other person enough.
6. Starting location: if coming directly from my home I’m late (Funny thing though, I am pretty much guaranteed to be on time if coming from anywhere other than my home). Something about leaving this particular location is hard. There is always something else I need to do…a sweater to pick up, a dog or fish or frog to feed, an email or BBM to send, on and on.

Although there is one exception to #6, and even that only occurs under a very specific circumstance. Five days a week, barring any school holidays, my girls and I are required to leave (rather burst) out of the house at 7:15 a.m. to catch my daughter’s school bus (I just got where that term, “catch the bus” comes from. I don’t like how much it resonates with me). This particular bus doesn’t wait for anyone, and the only reason we leave on time is because we have no choice. If we leave more than 1 minute late Taylor (my oldest daughter) will miss her bus, which is a huge problem and one none of us want to deal with. The thought of chasing a bus down Beverly Blvd isn’t a pleasant one.

Since getting out the door on time is of paramount importance I discovered a new and unexpected consequence to this whole pressure-cooker experience: it is actually possible to leave my home on time. And I can do it, if absolutely necessary although highly undesirably, without my morning dose of coffee. The fear of missing the bus puts that extra pep to my step and proves miracles do happen. I won’t ever again underestimate the power of a big yellow bus.

t.v. friends

After watching 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind' (which stars Jim Carrey) I commented to my husband that I was kind of sad that Jim Carrey and Jenny McCarthy (his celebrity girlfriend of a couple of years) broke up. They seemed like a nice couple...

He remarked, "It's hard to know with t.v. friends - given that you never talk to them and don't really know them."

True...

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

How happy is the blameless Vestal's lot!
The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd.

-Alexander Pope

This weekend I re-watched "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind", which is one of my favorite films. I loved it the first time I saw it- in spite of the fact that it was kind of confusing - because the emotional content comes through so clearly. It's Charlie Kaufman (the writer) and Michel Gondry (the director) at their best.

The story is so engaging and the interactions so genuine, that seeing the movie again - and knowing what will happen throughout - doesn't diminish its impact. I was also able to appreciate how well crafted the film is this time around, observing small details that at first I didn't notice, but that contribute to the work's complexity and tight-knit structure. I don't think there's a thing I'd change about it... (which I can't say about too many films.)

If you want to see the trailer you can find it at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1GiLxkDK8sI

And here's a review of the movie:

http://filmfreakcentral.net/screenreviews/eternalsunshine.htm

The sweetest thing

This morning I got up with Jemma at five... Scott took over around 8:30, and I went back to bed.

On weekends they like to venture out together and bring back breakfast. So when I woke up (for the second time) bagels and hot tea were waiting for me. This is always one of my favorite parts of sleeping in... not just being served breakfast, but seeing how much those two enjoy spending time together.

When I went into the kitchen the clock above the stove read 11:11. (I know, sleeping that late officially makes me a lazy rat...) I don't remember where I ever heard it, but supposedly when the clock displays all the same numbers you're supposed to make a wish...

But I couldn't think of anything to wish for. Not a single thing. Instead I said a little prayer of gratitude.

World according to my girl

“You know what happens when you swear and you don't live it up? You get a needle poked in your eye.”

That was a direct quote from m 9 year old daughter (I promise that idea did not come from me!).

BBM me please

Living with technology is like being addicted to crack, it’s just a matter of time before you crash (or it crashes), and you burn. My Blackberry stays permanently attached to my fingers. I like to pretend I have this issue because I have three girls and (of course!) I have to be accessible at all times, even in the middle of the night. Although the fact that my girls can simply walk to my bed in the middle of the night is irrelevant. I like to verbally decimate anyone that dares give me a hard time about my addiction. Really, who could argue with this kind of excuse.

My Blackberry (BB) has a special place as it fits ever so perfectly in my hand. It is effortless to hold, and of course I love feeling the soft plastic case hug itself in the nook of my hand (this is weirdly starting to sound like a lover). I feel complete with BB by my side, and lost when it is not with me. When I find the time to get a much needed manicure, I hate the time BB is untouchable. I am willing to risk a manicure disaster (messing up the nail polish before it dries), in order to grab my latest message.

I’m thinking the only other time I don’t have it in sight is when I take a shower. Although this is not completely true because it sits on the counter in front of my shower, 100% visible through my glass shower door.

I also have to credit BB for inspiring me to develop my new shorthand language…like TY which means thank you, and lv for love. Tons more, and ones I am sure are not unique to my own special BB language.

When I moved into my new home last year I discovered BB service (AT&T) didn’t work at my house, so of course I had to switch it to Verizon. God forbid I am not able to use BB at home.

The longest period of time I have not had use of BB was probably when I hiked the Grand Canon last October. It was a total of 10 hours, so to say this was a record amount of time untouched is putting it mildly. Hasn’t happened since.

I am thinking that once my girls are grown up my “little” problem will have subsided, and I will be hands free at all times. Yeah, that will happen…that is until my girls have kids, then I will have to be available for those adorable little grandkids, right?

My top 5 feng shui tips for the bedroom

Although I'm not a feng shui expert, I've found it to be a useful tool in decorating.

For those of you that aren't familiar with feng shui, it's an ancient Chinese system of aesthetics believed to help one improve life by increasing positive qi. There are lots of books on the subject (I found Terah Kathryn Collins' book "The Western Guide to Feng Shui: Creating Balance, Harmony, and Prosperity in your Environment" to be helpful and interesting).

Your bedroom is one of the most important rooms in your home. It should be a place where you feel comfortable and relaxed, and where romance can blossom...

Not to sound too kooky (fine, I'm a little kooky) but... If you're not in a relationship, and want to be in one - or if you want to improve the relationship you're in (by adding balance or increasing passion) there are several things you can do when decorating your bedroom to 'attract' these things.

Here are my top 5 tips for decorating your bedroom:

1) Get rid of the t.v. (or at least hide it.) Having a television in the bedroom is like having another person in there - it's adding a lot of energy (usually negative energy) that isn't appropriate in that particular room.

2) Pick the right color. You need to find a balance that works for you. This is where you rest (so it can't be overly stimulating) - but it's also the place that you want to encourage passion. Warm hues are recommended for bedroom walls - (any shade of skin tone is ideal). Cold colors (like blue, green or silver) can "cool" romantic relationships. If you can't stand the thought of not having a blue bedroom, consider red, orange, or pink accents to add warmth to the color palette (and passion to your love life.) Flowers also contribute 'living' energy, and are a nice way to add color. But careful not to do the entire room in red or orange, as this is thought to create too much 'fire' or passion - and may encourage cheating...

3) Artwork. Make sure the artwork in your bedroom is appropriate for the space. Subject matter should be romantic or neutral, (a picture of a solitary tree, for example, wouldn't be a great choice for the bedroom, as it might give the impression of loneliness), and decorative items should be in pairs, i.e. if you want to use two candlesticks don't put them on opposite sides of the dresser, instead, place them next to one another. Also, this is not the room for photos of family and friends (you don't want them with you in the bedroom...)

4) Placement of the bed. You want your room arranged so that you can see the door when you're lying in bed. (So you don't want the bed on the same wall as the door, for example. If this is unavoidable, you can 'fix' the problem by hanging a mirror so that you can see the door from the bed.) This lets you be more relaxed (even if it's only in a small or even subconscious way) because you won't feel that you might be startled by someone coming in.

5) A red ribbon. A recommendation I was given a long time ago was to place a red ribbon underneath the mattress, running across the bed at chest level. (This symbolizes the connection between your and your loved one's hearts.)

Works for me...

Doing School

Occasionally my daughter’s school will offer lectures on parenting. Raising kids anywhere is hard, and living in LA gives no exception.

Denise Pope, the author of Doing School came to give a lecture. She currently works at Stanford University, and aside from being a mother of 3 children (which in my opinion qualifies her for being an expert in the field), she also works on The Stanford Success Project. The seriously oversimplified summary of their mission is (and, to put it bluntly): TOO MUCH STRESS!! Our kids are under a ton of pressure to succeed and are completely stressed out about it, so their mission is to figure out ways to help our kids deal with it in a healthy and productive way.

What struck me the most were the statistics that had come out of their study (These are only my cliff notes from Denise’s lecture so please grab her book. It’s worth every second you have to read it).

Questions surveyed…Define Success:

Parents: be HAPPY, achieving goals, handling failures and roadblocks in a healthy way, emotional intelligence, being HAPPY…oh yeah, that one came up more than a few times.

Kids (180 public and private schools surveyed): Winning. (Ouch. Talk about a disconnect. Parents are thinking success comes from an internal place, or so we like to profess, and kids are focused on external. Not a good place to start.)

Average amount of homework per day:

Middle School: 2.57 hours, High School: 3.11 hours

(also note only 20-30% of students thought homework was useful)

Extra-curricular activities during the week days (weekend not included):

Middle School: 7.23 hours per week, High School: 10.3 hours per week

(Another big ouch. When are our kids getting to just be kids?)

Recommended sleep each night that a growing kid needs is 9.5 hours. Here’s what on average kids actually get..

Middle School: 8.03 hours, High School: 6.81 hours

It is a known fact that lack of sleep can lead to the following…lack of resilience, anxiety, depression, drug use, compromised immune system, bullying at school….the list goes on.

Did you know that regarding teenage drivers insurance companies are more concerned about sleep deprivation than drunk driving? I didn’t know.

Percentage of kids that DON’T cheat:

7-8^th graders: 5%, 11-12^th graders: 10%

Kids view cheating as a means to survival. They feel they have to do it to get to the right school…blablabla…

Which leads to the last (and my favorite) part of the lecture. Denise spoke a lot about Ivy League schools and the misperception that attending them was the only ticket to true success (she did note that on the graduate school level Ivy League schools were more relevant to success). Everyone in the audience got quiet. I could tell most parents didn’t want to hear this because it went against every fiber of their being. Their kid was going to attend one of those schools, darn it. And really? Harvard wasn’t critical to my kids success?

Immediately after Q & A started. The first question out of a parent’s mouth was, get ready for this…“So how are you connected to the admissions process at Stanford?” Really???

Set in Stone

Detail from The Rape of Proserpina, By Gian Lorenzo Bernini (1621-22)



This photo of Bernini's sculpture was posted on Alex Belth's blog... (http://www.bronxbanterblog.com)

Yeah, I know, I've posted things from his blog before (sorry to be such a copy-cat, Alex)... but this was too magnificent to pass up.

Singin' the Blues

I'm willing to listening to Tom Waits and the Beastie Boys with my husband, or The Wiggles and Raffi with Jem. But that's not really my kind of music... (I'll go into what my kind of music is another day.)

In our house the one kind of music that we can all agree on is the blues. (Even Jemma. She especially likes Bo Diddley.) It makes us... happy. Which is a funny thing to say, since the blues are mostly, well - blue.

A friend of ours, Charles Montague, founded an organization, SOOTS (Sustaining Roots Music) to foster an appreciation for traditional Southern music. And, while we don't live near enough to go to the functions he's organized in the past, we were able to see one of the artists associated with SOOTS - John Dee Holeman - in an outdoor concert here in New York last year.

I don't recall the exact circumstances, but there was some confusion figuring out where we were going, and we were running a bit late. By the time we got there everyone was cranky - At least the grownups were. Scott and I weren't speaking, but Jemma was oblivious to our sulking, having made a new friend who had balloons.

Then we started listening. And the atmosphere changed... Completely. I simply forgot about whatever bee was in my bonnet (or was able to recognize its insignificance.) Apparently Scott did too... Because as evening settled in and the musicians played, he took my hand. And we ended up having one of the best times I can remember.

Charles is raising money for this year's concert. You can vote for Pepsi to donate $5,000 to his project by going to:

http://www.refresheverything.com/soots

Here's a video of him with one of the musicians

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n8fXmHRB
8EM

India.Arie

If you haven’t already listened to India.Arie’s music, I highly recommend doing it. Her R&B/HipHop/Soul songs are nothing less than powerful. She has the perfect combination of a beautiful voice, gentle beat, and compelling lyrics that always make me smile and stop to think. Really beautiful.

My favorite lyric so far (although there are so many more than this), is from her song Video…“Every freckle on my face is where it’s supposed to be”.

Here are a few other songs I really like…Ready for love…Therapy…He Heals Me...Beautiful Flower (I love to let my 3 girls listen to this one. It really sends the message of what I wish we could all do, which is to love ourselves.)

Daddy's girl

Last week Jemma turned four. And people always say "it goes so fast" - but cliches are cliches for a reason... It feels like only moments ago that I was wondering when she would start sleeping through the night... Although, that's sometimes still a tough one, since my daughter has inherited her father's sleep issues. (I'm still trying to figure out whether I married a vampire or an alley cat... Probably an alley cat, since he hasn't bitten anyone yet, and he's usually just prowling around for food...)

She's inherited a lot of things from him, actually... Her independent spirit and generous nature, her resistance to having someone else call the shots, and the desire to climb every tree she sees, no matter how high the branches are ("you can just lift me up there, mommy.") Oh, and her appearance.

Although my grandmother on my father's side was Irish, (she had the same vibrant locks as my daughter) everyone always attributes the red hair to my husband's side of the family - since both of his sisters are redheads... And she does resemble Scott more than me... Okay, she probably resembles a lot of people more than me... I'm often told she doesn't even look like she's my kid. (But I was there when she came out - and she's mine for sure.)

I love that she's like her dad. And I love the very specific and beautiful individual she is (and is becoming). But I always feel a little surge of pleasure when I notice something of me in her - even if it's small or insignificant, like an expression. Or the fact that she hates sleeves that don't come down far enough. Or that she has curls like I did when I was little... The curls are definitely from me.

Rock and roll

When Jemma and I were in a music store she pointed to a wall of acoustic guitars and said, "Mommy, look! Those are like our guitars!" (And they did look pretty similar to her 'kiddie' instrument and my classical one.)

Then she turned to me and said, "But I want a cool one... The kind with a plug."

How does she know what makes a guitar 'cool'?

ff's

It’s tricky figuring out the best way to talk to my girls about weight and healthy living. I grew up in a little town in Georgia, plus it was a solid 4 decades ago (okay, more than that, but I like to round down, not up). The self-image issues my girls face are pretty different than what I was faced with. I don’t need to point out all the differences between mine and my girl's because it's obvious. Also in Georgia, “healthy eating” was considered a can of Le Sueur Peas.

I came up with an idea for meal time when my girls were little. It's an eating game, sort of. The goal of the game is to see if they can eat the food on their plate in a circle. That way the highly desired carbs are consumed at the same rate the vegis and protein are. Carbs have always been our weak spot. I’m thinking my girls got a lot of that from me. I admit my favorite food to eat are french fries. In fact, I rate restaurants by how good their ff’s are, and restaurants that don’t serve them are automatically off my list. I just don’t even bother going there, unless of course I have already had my daily intake of ff’s. Only then am I’m okay with it. I need ff rehab.

Nerd

I found the the following posted on (John Lavitt's) facebook:

Dr. Seuss coined the word "Nerd". The term originated in the 1950 book "If I Ran the Zoo."

From the book:
"And then, just to show them, I'll sail to Ka-Troo. And bring back and IT-KUTCH, PREEP and a PROO, a NERKLE, a NERD, and a SEERSUCKER, too!"




I thought it was interesting...
Especially when compared to what we would call a 'nerd' today...

Simple Sweet Pleasures

This Sunday was the annual fair at my daughter’s elementary school. Usually it is a huge event with ferris wheels and roller coaster rides, but this year it was different. The school is in the middle of a construction project which made all those big rides impossible to bring on campus. So instead we had relay races, go-fish games, and other whack-a-mole-like games to play. There was a little grumbling from the kids when they realized all those big crazy rides wouldn’t be back this year, but decided to give it a shot and check it out anyway.

Every year the parents are required to volunteer time for more than a few hours. For the last 5 years I have volunteered for the same job…selling tickets. There are 2 reasons I love this particular job. One is my kids always know where I am. Life in Los Angeles isn’t exactly the kind of place you just let your kids run around free of supervision, In fact, it’s downright rare. The school fair provides the perfect place to do just that. I can actually relax and not worry about where they are (okay, I will be honest and admit I am not totally letting go of control…I only give them enough tickets requiring they come back for more ever so often. It’s the perfect mandatory “check-in”). Which leads to the second reason I love this job: I get to check-in with all the friends I haven’t seen all year. Life goes pretty fast and the unintended consequence is loosing touch with friends. I think on this particular day I get more hugs than all the other days of the year combined. I love it.

By the end of the day we all pretty much hit the wall and simultaneously prayed for the 4 p.m. hour to come to pass (it’s closing time for the fair). With a chair strategically placed under my tush and staring off into space, I had serious doubts about how I would muster the energy to make my way back home again.

Doing a head count of my girls I saw a familiar glazed-over look in their eyes. I did a mental inventory of sugar items that passed through the booth that day…there were the pixie sticks, then the hot dogs, then the cotton candy, then the dip-n-dots, then the ring pops, and let’s not forget the basketball size lolly-pop Allie won. I really dropped the ball on this one and can’t imagine what all that sugar in their stomach must have felt like. To say I’m feeling guilty is an understatement. I’m trying to think of something, anything, that didn’t qualify as junk. But nothing, not even a carrot comes to mind.

I got lucky this year and my daughter Brooke helped me sell tickets. Turns out Allie’s favorite game at the fair was “the hammer thingie”. It took me a while to figure out exactly what the “hammer thingie” was, especially since using my brain at this point of the day was decidedly painful. I used to love that game too. You know, the one that you hit the target as hard as you can with a hammer, sending the ball up in the air hopefully hitting the bell at the top? I remember how satisfying it was when the bell actually rang. It always took more than a few turns to make that happen, but with each try I would become more determined, thankfully translating into a satisfying “Ding!” at the end.

The next “Ding!” we heard was at 6:30 a.m. the next morning. Our wake-up alarm was a little more painful than usual since we all had a sugar hangover. Allie complained about her legs hurting on the way to school convinced it was because of the “hammer thingie”. I’m thinking it’s from something else, like the result of actually stretching her legs out to run free all day at the fair. In my opinion that qualifies as a good kind of pain. In fact, we need more of that particular pain.

Another late night... this time as a groupie

Last night my cousin Beth and I went to see an old friend play with a band he used to be in back in the early 90s. It was a great show - and hearing the songs I used to listen to on a cassette tape (that I still have somewhere...) was nostalgic in the best way. Fun, without a trace of melancholy. Well... maybe just a drop. Sometimes these things make you feel like a bit of an old bat. And I guess that was true of last night... But I felt like a happy old bat, so it didn't take away from my enjoyment of the whole experience.

Beth and I got to catch up, which was a treat. We rarely see one another these days -we both have families of our own now - but when we were kids we used to play together every day. And we got to visit with David (the drummer) whom neither of us had seen in a long time.

The band that we were watching doesn't exist anymore, but the lead singer (Sam Bisbee) has a couple of albums out, and is still performing... His music's worth checking out.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xmLZ6I2iQc&feature=related

Reading

Last night I stayed up late finishing 'The Language of Secrets' by Dianne Dixon. The book was well written and engaging - a 'good read'. And I found, as I often do with novels, that I was rushing to get to the end. I do it partly because the story is entertaining... but I also do it because when I read novels, I'm a little unfocused. When I'm in the middle of a book my head gets stuck in a strange, disconnected place - like I'm trying to straddle two lives: my own, and the life of the character.

On the one hand, it means I'm enjoying the story (which I'm sure is the author's intent) but on the other hand, I always have the unsettling feeling of not being fully present in my interactions with the people around me... And characters in novels usually aren't living very happy lives, so when I'm reading I can also tend to be a little melancholy. (As my husband says, "People in fiction aren't happy - if they were they'd be boring... If someone wrote about us it would be a boring-ass book.")

I suppose I can't really blame my state on reading... Being in the moment takes work no matter how you slice it. Not work really - attention. And that - sometimes - is pretty hard work...

what girls learn from their dads

On weekends my husband likes to get up with Jemma and let me sleep in... Usually they read together, or go out and get bagels for breakfast.

This morning, I woke up to find them playing. They were obviously having a wonderful time - there were "oooh"s and laughs of pure joy coming from the next room. And what they were playing was... poker.

Of course, it was a simplified version (they would each draw a card, and whoever had the highest would win what was in the pot.)

Scott says that all the professional poker players who are women talk about learning the game from their fathers...

So my daughter, who turns 4 tomorrow, now understands what a 'face card' is, and how to bet, and what it means to 'go all in'...

She loves stacking the chips, and she adores winning. But, like me, she may not be comfortable with having the other guy lose... When she had won all of her dad's chips, she said, "Papa, we can share them, okay?"

Welcome

Many of you are newcomers to the everything(sort of) blog...

There's been a lot more traffic in the past couple of days thanks to my brother-in-law's tweet about it... He's the great and powerful Oz. Dr. Oz, that is (and he really is great, by the way...)

If you're here because he recommended it, thanks for checking out my posts - and the posts of my friend, Ellen Sassa. Hopefully you'll find something interesting or entertaining in our musings...