|
recent posts
----------
Impulse Control
Happy Returns
Is It Working Yet?
Teenie Weenie Town
Santa Guilt
It's Not EST, But It Could Be
Not Offensive at All. It's a Trend
Under It
After the Candy
Candy Elegy
archive
----------
March 2005
April 2005
May 2005
June 2005
July 2005
August 2005
September 2005
October 2005
November 2005
December 2005
January 2006
February 2006
March 2006
April 2006
May 2006
June 2006
July 2006
August 2006
September 2006
October 2006
November 2006
December 2006
January 2007
February 2007
March 2007
April 2007
May 2007
June 2007
July 2007
August 2007
September 2007
October 2007
November 2007
December 2007
January 2008
February 2008
March 2008
April 2008
May 2008
June 2008
July 2008
August 2008
September 2008
October 2008
November 2008
December 2008
January 2009
February 2009
March 2009
April 2009
May 2009
June 2009
July 2009
August 2009
September 2009
October 2009
November 2009
December 2009
January 2010
February 2010
|
 |
You've got questions, she's got answers. Be among the first to read Elise Mac Adam's new etiquette guide.
Pre-order from:
- Simon & Schuster
- Amazon
- Barnes & Noble
A friend of mine with older children once commented that it was a pleasurable shock to realize that there could be whole days without crying. This happened when her kids crossed a critical age threshold.
I thought about this because I read something that Michelle Obama said that I found very appealing. My kids don't have larger questions of sadness, and the things that upset them tend to be passing or relatively easily resolved, but I still appreciate what she says, and hope I can remember this in the future when they are beset by bigger problems.
This is from a New York Times article that appeared earlier this week:
"My girls are the first thing I think about when I wake up in the morning and the last thing I think about when I go to bed. When people ask me how I’m doing, I say, 'I'm only as good as my most sad child.' "
And I do think that Michelle Obama is remarkable.
posted by Elise at 5:44 AM
2 Comments
Nights of Tiny Chairs
That is how my husband describes "Parents' Nights" at Felix's school.
Now, these nights are not parent/teacher evaluation sessions where one hears specific details about one's child's progress. Actually, these are mysterious evenings since they offer something of a peek into what Felix does that he can't bring himself to describe except in quick enigmatic comments or snippets of song. (Actually, this year I've been able to unearth huge chunks of the class curriculum based on the songs he sings that shift with the seasons and holidays.)
Of course, what one really wants to do is fling oneself at the teachers and beg for information. Is he happy? Is he charming? Does he show promise? Does he have friends? Is he eating the lunches I throw together at 6:30 in the morning? (How do my lunches compare to the other lunches they see? Are my lunches dull? Am I falling down on the lunch prep section of the Maternal Test?) But this is not to be done. These are evenings full of general information, curriculum details. Occasionally little apples of discord are unintentionally pitched at the parents. A simple recitation of future field trips nearly started a tug-of-war when I almost tried to convince my husband that he would much rather go on the pumpkin patch journey than the firehouse visit where kids get to slide down the pole. (This even after my husband announced: "I want that one.")
Intriguing, as well was the slide show of the children in their activities. Felix has clearly been misinforming me when he tells me that he only plays with the girls at school, but I'll let him think he has me snowed.
Otherwise, it is clear from the piece of artwork each set of parents got to bring home, a "self portrait" folder, which children were encouraged to decorate with their favorite colors, that he is happily fixated, at school as well as at home, on the color pink. The only think missing from this self portrait is that the shirt doesn't have a gigantic logo for the number 2 subway train on it.
Anyway, I'll get the real scuttlebutt in a few weeks, when the parent/teacher conference will deliver the dirt.
posted by Elise at 10:28 AM
0 Comments
Hungry for Change
In the last two or three months, I've had to try to become especially vigilant about collecting stray coins. Sebastian, always the joker, likes to find, say, a quarter, stick it in his mouth, wander up to a responsible adult and spit it out, just to show how subversive he is. On top of that, we moved into our (YES STILL) temporary apartment with a fair amount of collected change.
So to combat my election anxiety and malaise, I packed up my little money nibbler, the terrier and a hefty amount of change, and walked briskly to the bank to cash it in.
That money, which was literally sitting around, like so many choking hazards has gone to:
Mamas for Obama: A really interesting, galvanizing grass roots movement, placing television ads meant to catch the interests and concerns of mothers in swing states
Steal Back Your Vote: Anyone worried about voter suppression should absolutely read this completely upsetting Rolling Stone article or watch Robert F. Kennedy's appearance on the Rachel Maddow show.
and
The World Wildlife Fund: I "adopted" a Wild African Dog for the children.
Do I feel better?
Mildly.
But frankly nothing will really ease this rather singular angst before November 4th.
posted by Elise at 6:44 AM
0 Comments
Ode to the Out of Print
There is something terribly sad about out-of-print kids' books.
Now, of course it is absurd to think that everything could just linger around waiting for you to decide to present it to your kid or kids, but I get so demonized when I find something that turns out to be out of print that I, of course, turn to all of those online used bookstores. (As a writer, I know using these things is questionable, politically, since it potentially takes away from royalties, but once a book is unavailable, and can't be procured in the usual way, I figure it has to be all right to buy the thirty-five cent copies of things.)
Anyway, word to the wise, if there's something you love, don't wait around to get it because things really do vanish. Most of those Tomi Ungerer books I talked about a while ago are no longer around, and one of my own childhood favorite series, "Ant and Bee" (with their friend Kind Dog) is stuck in a strange re-print nightmare (though there is some possible indication they will reemerge in the UK).
So when I encountered the Thingy Things series by Chris Raschka, I scouted around and grabbed them all. Initially, I figured they'd be good for Sebastian who likes another of Raschka's books (Charlie Parker Played Be Bop), but they've been somewhat co-opted by Felix. They're good for kids who want to put off bedtime because you can easily promise to read all eight books (each one is only about 10 pages long with one sentence per page). The writing, is wonderful and while there aren't elaborate stories, Felix has become obsessed with the concept of "reverse psychology" which is demonstrated in the volume Lamby Lamb, in which young Lamby Lamb is instructed firmly not to get dressed and by the end he is all set to go out, top hat in place, umbrella in hoof. Sebastian's favorite appears to be Doggy Dog, a book about identity in which the hero comes to understand that he is not lampshade, not potato, not footstool.
posted by Elise at 9:45 AM
5 Comments
Fingers Down
I remember, when I was little, my father felt quite strongly about the rudeness of pointing. I think this sticks out in my mind because he wasn't prone to long discussions of comportment and doesn't tend to dwell on this sort of thing. But pointing was to be discouraged.
I suspect he is right. Felix has begun pointing and I have started a campaign to discourage it. This is quite difficult I realize since (as Sebastian demonstrates constantly), children learn to communicate by pointing ("Where is your nose? Good!" Where's Daddy? No that's the dog. Where's Daddy?").
But Felix has entered a phase where he does point at everything when he asks about it and in public I worry about how his gestures will be interpreted. My concerns are right, since just the other day he pointed at someone within earshot and said: "That man has a very fat belly." All sorts of corrections had to be made at that point: 1)Apology to the man within earshot. 2) Discussion of why it isn't good to say things like that about people out loud. 3)Discussion of why pointing at people isn't nice.
Finally I told him something that might be completely apocryphal, which is that in the United Nations building, one is never supposed to point, even to illustrate the location of rest rooms. One is instead to use the full hand gesture made familiar to us all by flight attendants. I don't know where I heard that or whether or not it is the case (my casual research hasn't turned up much), but it seems to have sunk in a little bit that in at least one building in town, people have to be so careful about not hurting feelings that pointing isn't permitted. (Has anyone else heard this or have I just internalized someone else's get-your-kid-to-stop-pointing gambit?)
I could just be kidding myself of course, and now I've started wondering about my own pointing habits. Here's hoping I am not the bad example to the Felix because this is one thing I'd like to nip in the bud.
posted by Elise at 8:25 AM
5 Comments
Where Did the Time Go?
Forgive, please, my silence. I don't know what came over me to cause me to fall into the Void. Perhaps it was some deadlines that I missed. Maybe it was the disgusting head cold that set in this week.
But I fear, and I really do fear it because it means my brain will not settle down for several weeks, I am getting paralyzingly distracted by the election. I hadn't put my finger on why my brain was still not behaving as I want it to, until yesterday when I was talking to one of my sisters-in-law and she came out and said it: the election is interfering with her work.
The 2004 election was nothing like this for me. I thought I was desperate then, but now my fret and and ire has reached new heights. Now I study polls. Now I stay up late scrawling postcards and dragging my kids to the post office (which still has enormous allure for them) as I participate in imaginative fund-raising programs. Politics were surely dire then, so I can only assume I am galvanized by two things: the world is so much worse and I have kids, which really does make me ashamed that I haven't been more active in the past.
In November will these days feel like some sort of fever dream? One can only hope because there is a lot of stuff that needs to get done around here. Anyone else experiencing pre-election dissipation?
posted by Elise at 5:56 AM
2 Comments
Parenting Object Lesson
Periodically, Felix says we should throw his brother in the garbage. I suppose I can see where he's coming from because these suggestions tend to come after Sebastian has done something annoying (destroy a Lego tower) or inconvenient (was fed the last piece of previously undesirable fruit). As a rule, I don't ignore or brush over these comments, even though they're amusing, because we are a jokey family. We joke so much that it is possible to lose perspective. Felix has a friend who popped him one when Felix declared it was "opposite day" and refused to answer any question except in the form of its opposite. So it is important to me to know when to invoke the voice of reason. It would not be in my best interests for anyone in my family, myself included, to think that pitching someone else down the garbage chute is an option.
And so it is mystifying to me that people would think that Sarah Palin could be a useful vice-president because she has had five children and knows how to get things done. In the first place, having children is hardly an indicator that anyone is anything other than someone who has had five children. Surely I am not radiating extreme efficiency now that I have two kids running around putting Lego in the dryer. Actually, I'd go much further and say that Palin's recent behavior shows her to be kind of questionable in practical parenting gestures, if we're actually going to do the ridiculous and talk about how having kids makes one good at serving in government. A better politician and parent would have told the nutjob audience member that we don't threaten people's lives when he shouted "Kill him" in a response to her incendiary speech about Barack Obama, that such talk is unhelpful, shameful, diminishing.
posted by Elise at 11:14 AM
0 Comments
........................................................
|
