The ward talent show was tonight, and well, see for yourself. They brought the house down.
Wednesday, December 30, 2015
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Bad parenting
There are moments in this life when I have watched what I assumed was a mother or father and seen some heinous act done to a child or in the name of the child. For example, at a Target, I once saw a mother encourage, in fact practically thrust a store item in the fist of her infant and then hide it under the baby's blanket in the infant carrier. I've seen my share of yelling, shaking, slapping, pushing of parents to their children outside schools, playgrounds, streets, and in and out of grocery stores. And my motto is: if you're yelling at and grabbing and shoving your children in front of God and everybody, what are you doing to them at home, where the rest of us who were raised in a shame-based home are just yelling at our kids?
I've had conversations through the years with my friends: what if it was required to get a license to be a parent?
We need a license to drive a MiniCooper - the teeny weeny car that practically drives itself and even has a little camera when you pull into reverse and beeps when you get close to hitting another car... And we only operate cars on average like 2 hours a day. And that is just to prevent you from hurting yourself and anyone who is foolish enough to choose to spend time with you!! We need a license to do many of the professional jobs we do. But anybody with fertile loins can be a parent.
I'm not saying that even when I was all jigged up on this idea that people who failed this parenting license had to abort or give up their babies upon birth. They would just have to retake the licensing exam over and over until they passed, taking (many) parenting classes after class to learn about parenting (and think of the money the state would rake in by charging these inept parents!! The parenting classes would pay for themselves!) Parenting classes about safety, health, nutrition, positive parenting style over negative discipline, early childhood education, a class to memorize all the needless statistics that I personally can't stop thinking about -- anecdotes about things like how they should be coddled just enough but not too much, the cautions doctors have too many siblings, the cautions about not enough siblings, throw out cute baby bumpers in case it might contribute to SIDS.... Oh, and we can't forget about all the ways to prevent your child from being kidnapped, an overall familiarity with crime statistics in your neighborhood (please memorize the addresses of all the sex offenders in your general area for the final), the recent ratings of the nearby schools. Then there's the statistics about reading to children: how reading to them every night increases SAT scores, but then if you do then it gets them in the habit of needing to read to fall asleep so they stay up reading far after you've fallen asleep. Oh, and are they learning to read too late in life, or but are they reading too early? Might they have Asperger's? There must be a unit on "Bad Influence Friends: But Careful About Being Too Judgy". Basically I picture a survey course that encapsulates all these thoughts (and more!) that roll around in my head and keep me up at night -- I'll call this class: "Worry 101: If You Worry Enough, These Disastrous Things Won't Happen." Because if I have to think about all these things every day, then EVERY parent should have to think about these things. This licensing process would be renewed once a year or once every two years or maybe every time you wanted another kid. Or whatever. I hadn't really planned it out.
Yes, I was a big advocate of licensing parents until I realized I wasn't such a banner parent myself. I haven't taught my children to shoplift, but I have taught them to fill their pockets with candy from home before going to the movies (because I have principles -- I want to teach my kids not to pay $7 for junior mints). But of course, what would the Ethics portion of the parenting license test say about that?. As my kids grow into tweens and teens I lecture loudly (yes, that's the ticket) more and cuddle less, because I'm petrified they will make a mistake-- I have made many, an adolescent and as a young mom. I will not list every horrible thing I've done (although the up and running blog is most likely a vehicle for just that), but here's a doozy that the Licensing Committee would most likely revoke at least some of my parental rights for. Watch the following video labelled Donkey Song. My Char: the one in the white dress with the polka dots wanted so badly to participate in this concert that against my better judgment I let her go. Then the next day I took her to the doctor (after, in my defense having taken her to the doctor twice). She really wanted to sing the donkey song. So I let her:
Donkey song
She had pneumonia.
Maybe we're all just feeling our way through the dark.
I've had conversations through the years with my friends: what if it was required to get a license to be a parent?
We need a license to drive a MiniCooper - the teeny weeny car that practically drives itself and even has a little camera when you pull into reverse and beeps when you get close to hitting another car... And we only operate cars on average like 2 hours a day. And that is just to prevent you from hurting yourself and anyone who is foolish enough to choose to spend time with you!! We need a license to do many of the professional jobs we do. But anybody with fertile loins can be a parent.
I'm not saying that even when I was all jigged up on this idea that people who failed this parenting license had to abort or give up their babies upon birth. They would just have to retake the licensing exam over and over until they passed, taking (many) parenting classes after class to learn about parenting (and think of the money the state would rake in by charging these inept parents!! The parenting classes would pay for themselves!) Parenting classes about safety, health, nutrition, positive parenting style over negative discipline, early childhood education, a class to memorize all the needless statistics that I personally can't stop thinking about -- anecdotes about things like how they should be coddled just enough but not too much, the cautions doctors have too many siblings, the cautions about not enough siblings, throw out cute baby bumpers in case it might contribute to SIDS.... Oh, and we can't forget about all the ways to prevent your child from being kidnapped, an overall familiarity with crime statistics in your neighborhood (please memorize the addresses of all the sex offenders in your general area for the final), the recent ratings of the nearby schools. Then there's the statistics about reading to children: how reading to them every night increases SAT scores, but then if you do then it gets them in the habit of needing to read to fall asleep so they stay up reading far after you've fallen asleep. Oh, and are they learning to read too late in life, or but are they reading too early? Might they have Asperger's? There must be a unit on "Bad Influence Friends: But Careful About Being Too Judgy". Basically I picture a survey course that encapsulates all these thoughts (and more!) that roll around in my head and keep me up at night -- I'll call this class: "Worry 101: If You Worry Enough, These Disastrous Things Won't Happen." Because if I have to think about all these things every day, then EVERY parent should have to think about these things. This licensing process would be renewed once a year or once every two years or maybe every time you wanted another kid. Or whatever. I hadn't really planned it out.
Yes, I was a big advocate of licensing parents until I realized I wasn't such a banner parent myself. I haven't taught my children to shoplift, but I have taught them to fill their pockets with candy from home before going to the movies (because I have principles -- I want to teach my kids not to pay $7 for junior mints). But of course, what would the Ethics portion of the parenting license test say about that?. As my kids grow into tweens and teens I lecture loudly (yes, that's the ticket) more and cuddle less, because I'm petrified they will make a mistake-- I have made many, an adolescent and as a young mom. I will not list every horrible thing I've done (although the up and running blog is most likely a vehicle for just that), but here's a doozy that the Licensing Committee would most likely revoke at least some of my parental rights for. Watch the following video labelled Donkey Song. My Char: the one in the white dress with the polka dots wanted so badly to participate in this concert that against my better judgment I let her go. Then the next day I took her to the doctor (after, in my defense having taken her to the doctor twice). She really wanted to sing the donkey song. So I let her:
Donkey song
Monday, February 16, 2015
Shake it Off
I'm preferring to just start this blog as if I never left. So what that three years have gone by? More? Ok, four years. My kids have gotten older. We no longer pine for the North East. ok, fixing typos on my phone is such a hassle, you all will just have to work on your ocd tendencies and back the heck off. Obviously we moved to the Northeast, Boston area. And while it was a good move in many ways, I've had a bit of a mental and physical breakdown that I am presently trying to climb out of (imagine Miley's "It's The Climb" being played in the backgroun in a very soft, musac, inspirational way) So we're back. We've been back in Boston for 1 1/2 years. I have some time to make up for, some fences to mend, and I have to get myself getting on the right path again. This may be a little late in the game, but...and I don't know how long it will last
but Here I go!
These are the faces that matter most to me.
but Here I go!
These are the faces that matter most to me.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Elliot's Vagrants
This is something I wrote this summer and it was published in Times and Seasons.
“Hey lady! Do you have a dollar? Just a dollar! Please lady! Just a dollar! Please, ma’am!”
“Hey lady! Do you have a dollar? Just a dollar! Please lady! Just a dollar! Please, ma’am!”
“Sorry, sir!” I look down at my 4-year-old and 7-year-old sons, and we’re rushing to catch a subway home to Cambridge, MA from a long day in downtown Boston. We find seats together – what joy! I sigh, exhausted from the day. My 4 year old, Elliot, reaches into my purse, I think to grab a piece of gum. Instead, he pulls out a crumpled dollar. He looks at me with crushed, disappointed eyes. “You told that man you didn’t have a dollar.” I rub my forehead, trying to figure out how to explain. “Honey, we pay our tithing to take care of people like that man. The Church has it all set up.” Disgusted, he puts the dollar back in my purse, zips it up and peers at other sad souls in the train car. I, however, keep explaining. “We had to catch our train or we would have been late getting home to baby sister and daddy…” My voice trails off, weak, and sounding as hollow as the subway tunnel we’re chugging through.
Years ago, as my husband was getting though his grueling seven-year M.I.T. PhD, I knew we had to scrimp and save. It’s the only way we would make it. We had these two sons and a new baby daughter at the time. We felt it was in everybody’s best interest if we held onto every little penny, except for the exact ten percent we absolutely had to give, except for the exact amount of fast offering we weren’t eating once a month. Oh, it pains me to think of how selfish I was, so self-involved! I was sure we would ‘get philanthropic’ the minute when we had some room to breathe. I obsessed about every line on our budget, even every line of our grocery bill. A couple of months after the subway incident, I couldn’t understand why our ‘granola bar budget’ had skyrocketed. I soon figured out why.
I kept a Costco box of granola bars in the backseat, in case anyone got hungry on the rides to or from school. On the way to my 4 year old’s pre-school commute, we would inevitably get held up in traffic, on the corner of Memorial Drive and JFK St, right near Harvard University. I would usually distract myself with the radio to avoid road rage, but for some reason that day I looked in the rear view mirror. My little blonde-haired, hazel-eyed precious boy had rolled down his window just wide enough to hand out granola bars to the vagrants holding up signs in the street that said things like “Homeless Veteran: Will Work 4 Food.” At first, I cried, "Elliot!" and started rolling up his window, in fear of all things mom worry about. He looked at me compassionately with those eyes that pleaded, Mom, don’t take this away, too. Then I took in the scene. I realized he was in complete control of the situation. There was a little crowd around the window, like they’d been waiting for him all morning. They nodded in gratitude and backed away after he handed them their food. It almost looked like they were receiving blessings, as if he was their little Christ child, handing them the sacrament. My tears started flowing. It felt like I was beholding the scene in Luke 2 – Jesus as a boy, sitting at the temple, preaching to the people who ought to know better. And I, like Jesus’ parents, was “astonished at his understanding and answers.” When I had to drive away because the traffic had cleared, I realized an honest-to-God miracle had just taken place. And I had no idea how many times it had taken place prior to this day, because I had been busy jamming to WBMX-FM in the driver’s seat.
My little boy changed me that day. He taught me that no matter how little I think I have, there’s someone with less. I’ve been less tight with my fists since that day. I’ve realized that while I tithe, maybe my dollars don’t go straight to the starving like I’d hoped. Instead of disappointing my children, I’m going to take their example and hand my free crumpled up dollars to the ones who ask for them. We returned to that corner every school day after that, and Elliot's vagrants were always waiting for us. And he always had granola bars for them.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
Monday, March 12, 2012
Ethan nailed it at the talent show!
So Ethan was brave and tried out for the school talent show... even though his school is grades 6-12, and the talent show was mostly full of high school students. But he was thrilled beyond belief he made the cut and got to perform yesterday. However, then he ended up missing a week of school two weeks ago due to pneumonia and we were all scared he'd have to back out altogether because he could barely talk let alone sing. But he worked really hard and we think he did a great job (ok, as you can painfully obviously hear all too well in the tape I was a little too exuberant with my pride).
And here's the judgment at the end:
And here's the judgment at the end:
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Monday, September 12, 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Friday, July 22, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
Sunday, May 8, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
my favorite Mother's Day gift
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Friday, April 15, 2011
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