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That's Entertainment
The New York Times just wrote about the apparent explosion in the commercialization of kiddie beauty products. Small children, it seems, are having "makeover slumber parties" and other beauty parties. I have to say, this wasn't my thing as a child and then I grew up and it still wasn't my thing. How much fun could it really be to go to a party and have everyone else get together, decide on the ways in which your looks are wanting and then go about trying to improve you.
Of course, Felix has had his fingernails (such as they are) painted by one of his friends several times, though the general effect is less glamorous than it is "just came from art class."
The article suggests that these parties are turning children into little consumers, too young to realize how a whole handful of industries are acting upon them and their protean self-esteem. I just can't get around the fact that this just seems like no fun at all.
Sure, all of this is part of the growing-up-too-fast miasma that is indeed nightmarish, but who is generating the interest in these parties? Are the kids asking for them? When do parties become single-sex events? Is this an actual issue or just something unappealing that crops up from time to time?
I will say this, though, there are a number of large nail salons that I pass quite regularly and almost constantly I see young girls (8-12 years-old, I figure) getting pedicures (mostly). And frankly, that seems a bit more unpleasant than kids painting their own toes.
But there's no accounting for taste at all, on the other side of things, it seems that a museum was asked to return an Austrian tank to its owner, Arnold Schwarzenegger because he wants to use it for fun, according to the Associated Press, he will give rides in the tank to "inner inner-city children in the Los Angeles area as a reward for staying in school, avoiding drugs and working hard."
Perhaps again I'm missing the point. Maybe I'm just not familiar with the contemporary concept of fun. Maybe a trip in a tank is better than a roller-coaster. More fun thank a pedicure too, possibly.
posted by Elise at 7:41 PM
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Because You Aren't Crazy Enough
The New York Times Magazine has a piece today about something that caused a bit of outrage to percolate in my mind a few months ago. A friend (who was doing some research on other matters) mentioned the LENA system of baby language development analysis.
At the time, even the web site looked beyond humorous. LENA is a system that requires one purchase a recording device (to record all of the noises- conversational sounding or not- your baby emits) and special clothing to contain the device your baby will wear to contain the recording device. The web site is full of the sorts of scare tactics that make me prickle: DO this or you won't know your child is autistic! Do this so you can make sure your child is "on target"!
I'm as angsty as the next parent and I like outside confirmation that I'm OK, my kids are OK, everything is OK, but really. Really. Are people such shut-ins that they never get any external confirmation that their babies are chugging along appropriately? How much reassurance are you going to get from figuring out how to use a device, forcing the kid to wear it and fussing over it until it coughs up the message that you're safely in a "normal" range?
Pardon me if this just seems like a cynical way to get $400 out of people who could better spend that cash on a little bit of fun.
posted by Elise at 6:54 AM
1 Comments
What's Been On My Mind...
Here it is.
I am sure I looked quite odd snapping photographs of the wedding wall at the closest bookstore yesterday. That is my book, there, neatly aligned beside the Groom's Instruction Manual.
Don't let anyone ever convince you that a book can just appear out of nowhere. I suppose I didn't make things any easier for myself by starting this project when I had a nine month-old scuttling around, but fear of drowning in the maternal sublime (and the lurking dread developing a trench-like work rut) kicked me into gear. By the time it hit shelves, the baby was three years-old and his brother had his ten month anniversary.
Oddly, now that Something New is out in the world, there is as much work to do for it and take care of it than there was putting it together. (This shouldn't surprise me since everyone told me it would be the case and yet, I'm overwhelmed.) So this is yet another way in which producing a book bears some resemblance to producing a baby. The book, though, won't require that I send it to nursery school.
posted by Elise at 7:03 AM
7 Comments
Entropy
My new view shows me that some person or people in a neighboring apartment have yet to dismantle their Christmas tree or even take down the twinkling lights. (Why yes, I do get to see these lights sparkling before dawn on a regular basis. No, I'm not talking to my pediatrician about my bad sleep training skills.)
My husband, thinking practically, believes that no one actually resides in the apartment, that the unit's owners are actually in Aruba or Belize (he always suggests tropical residences for these strangers). My thoughts are more sympathetic. Maybe they don't have time to take the thing down and can't face such a task and are instead hoping that it will magically take care of itself. I have had these moments lately. I was willing to live with a telephone that fought relentlessly with the internet service, because I just couldn't face the scheduling.
And somehow this sense of being overwhelmed reminds me of a conversation I had recently with a relatively new mother who is trying to juggle some part time work. She was going to be freelancing for a company that's entire reason for being is connected to all things "mother" and one would have thought they would be sensitive to questions of schedule and time. Sadly this was quite the contrary and she asked if I thought she wasn't ready to start in with working in this way and I said I thought that this wasn't her problem. It is so typical yet so odd that even people whose work is all about being sympathetic to the difficulties of parenting find it hard to accommodate a new parent's schedule (requiring one to find childcare on the fly, for instance). I fear in both cases, the company and the individual have a hard time facing the fundamental issue that many new mothers need a little extra time when it comes to scheduling work, because it means a little extra problem solving.
But maybe this is misplaced optimism on my part. I hope not, but I am the person, remember, who just wants to plow through. I plow through work, and ignore the things I can't quickly figure out. And I would happily live with a Christmas tree (though we have never actually gotten one and given the way things go around here with the savage children and terrier, it might not be wise for a few years) well into February, because trying to assign at time to dismantle it and decide what to do with it would be overwhelming to me.
And that is the latest side-effect of becoming a mother. I can complain about entropy now that my hair has started to grow back.
posted by Elise at 9:54 AM
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Seasonal
New York has a lot of seasons, many more than the traditional four, or two, as is the case in those places that have "monsoon" and "the rest of the year."
February alone has several, including one of my favorites, which is Dog Show Season, which commences tomorrow, I suppose (though things were revving up as early as yesterday. What am I talking about? The Westminster Dog Show is here and this year the thrill is that there are four new breeds competing, including some charmingly devilish looking herder called the Swedish Valhund.
When the children are a little older, I'll see about taking them to the dog show, even if it does mean braving Madison Square Garden. There is a lot of interest back stage in the form of many friendly dogs and people who have dedicated their lives to understanding them. Plus, there's really nothing quite like watching 10 dachshunds run around in a small circle. You can tune in this week, of course. I'll be cheering on the terriers
In other news, children (and adults for that matter) are prone to lying.
posted by Elise at 11:12 AM
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Growth
I don't have that black thumb people complain about. I have a whole pile of begonias that have survived all kinds of neglect and a jasmine plant that I got in a symbolic gesture to myself after September 11th, which recently had a Lazarus-esque resurrection after it had been abandoned on top of the refrigerator in an unfortunate, post-baby moment.
But still, plants aren't working for me. I have this inexplicable mission to grow something with Felix. He loves plants and is completely interested in them, and yet all of my pedagogical efforts are disasters.
I have been trying to sprout avocado seeds. We get very excited every time I put one in water or plant one or make one of the other coaxing gestures that should encourage sprouting and weeks later there is a stubborn pit staring back at us. (No one in this house even likes avocados so it is a testament to my will to make this work that I beg my family to hand off their avocado seeds and I ferry them home to my un-garden in plastic bags.)
And then there's the Eggling. It is great. Exquisite. The design is so attractive and the visions of a tiny patch of flowers sprouting out of a ceramic eggshell are so appealing. So why the Hell won't it grow for me? Who knows. I've even followed the instructions with more alacrity than I usually muster. Poor Felix keeps staring at the barren little shell and somehow maintains excitement.
And now, a gorgeous orchid has come into my life, an anniversary present from my in-laws. I love it but fear it because I don't want to be responsible for its untimely demise. So far it has managed for more than a week and my hopes have been raised... but I know they're delicate and fickle and I fret.
Someone told me to boil eggs, cool the water and use the water to nurture the orchid.
I am trying to figure out how far I'm willing to go.
posted by Elise at 6:41 AM
4 Comments
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