Lunch Box Love Notes

When Will started Kindergarten and Soph first, I decided to put little notes in their lunches occasionally. Originally my goal was once a week, and I maintained for a while, using nap time to create fun little paper pictures to surprise them with.  It didn't take too long to taper off to once a month.

This was my first. A fox for Sophie.

His tail swishes so you can read the message

Now I make them for all three kids.  Sometimes, they are super complex and meaningful and other times they are just a paper heart with a note.  

Will's First day at Magellan School

A super quick and easy one (read: last minute)

I have even been known, (after discrete hinting and permission from the artist) to use one of the kids' drawings to create notes.

This is Ruby's.  She made the witch, I added the message.

I have made a bunch of these, and the kids always enjoy them.  I expected them to be ruined, stained with food, manhandled by friends or even tossed out.  But they always come home.  I've been saving them for years now, I have a big box that is completely full.  Every once in a while, the girls will thumb through them.

We've moved twice in the past 6 months and it occurred to me that I should go back and photograph them all, just in case.  So they are all here now, not in the right order, I couldn't ever remember that.

Books and More

My dear friend called me today to discuss the latest issue of playboy, which is now available at 5 year old eye level in a Barnes & Noble near you.

She has an eleven year old son who notices and analyses everything he sees and hears.  This naturally leads to LOTS of uncomfortable conversations between them and even more uncomfortable retellings to unsuspecting family members by him.  If your kids' Grandma needs to know what "that swallows!" means, he's your guy.

I love every conversation we have, she is a fantastic source of calm, rational, thoughtful advice which I frequently seek out. I am pretty sure her boy has exercised those brain muscles for her extensively from the moment he was able to talk. And she is not at all timid about asking for advice or even just confirmation of her sanity.

She called today with this conundrum: She was at Barnes and Noble to get get a book for her niece. While waiting to check out she noticed that B&N has recently changed it's placement of Playboy magazine to the racks in front of the cashiers.  This policy change is, of course, tied to Playboy no longer featuring nudes.

However.

This month's cover she found to be not something she would like to have to explain to her 11 year old son, who would, 100 per cent for sure ask about.  It's at his eye level.

She called to ask me if she was crazy to feel this way about it. So I pulled up the cover image.

Playboy. A Magazine for Men, March 2016

HOLY CRAP.

So clearly, she's clothed.  But she can't be 2 days over 18. She could certainly pass for 14.  She is posing so that photo appears to be a selfie (she'd have to have gorilla arms AND a selfie stick for that to be the case, but that detailed observation probably takes more brain power than those who purchase this mag are using) and the text banner across the lower third implies that this a selfie she has texted to someone.

So my issue isn't the bra and panties, it's the implication that this is what girls do for boys.  That boys can expect girls to take and text sexualized photos of themselves.

I'm neither a prude nor naive, I know girls do this.  I also know they don't need to see this cover image to get the idea. Long ago, at the beginning of digital time, I did it. I don't think girls should be shamed or punished for it, but that's a different post altogether.

However.

I find the idea that my daughter might see this graphic and draw the conclusion that boys are expecting, or worse, deserve photos like this sliding across their screens.

Seeing this at such a vanilla establishment as B&N makes it seem as though sexting photos of herself to her latest crush is just a basic level of communication needed to hold his attention.

How about my son?

I would never ever want him to feel as though he has a right to see a classmate's personal photos like this.  This is completely acceptable in a committed relationship, but never will he deserve or have a right to it.

I don't want to fall into the rabbit hole here, but this expectation of access to women's bodies is the tiny seed of school and workplace sexual harassment.

It strikes me that individual Barnes and Noble shouldn't be forced into displaying it at my kids' eye level.  Yes, Yes. They (currently) are. Corporate has decided to let Playboy pay for premium placement, the same way sugary cereals pay to placed on the shelf where your kid will see them. And individual stores have no say.  Or at least that's what the manager told my friend when she voiced her concern.

Treat Thursday!

Seven years ago, when my oldest started Kindergarten, (and I was stupid and idealistic) she made it all of 3 days before she began begging for cookies in her lunch, "like the other kids have."

I was not going to put cookies in her no-waste, farm-to-table, meticulously planned bento box lunch. Good mothers just don't do such things.

But here's the rub, I love her.  And I get it, everyone else around you has something you think is wonderful and you feel deprived... And I love treats, no surprise.

So, after several weeks of being pestered, I made her a deal.  Once a week, I will put a treat in your lunchbox.  What day do you want it?

"Thursdays"

She answered with no hesitation, "Thursdays are the worst day of the week."

And so, every Thursday since then, the kids have gotten a treat in their lunch boxes.

Interestingly, several years later, I was relaying this story of why, once a week, Ruby was getting a treat in her lunch to her kindergarten teacher, and Jane very quickly confirmed that Thursday is, in fact, the worst day of the week for most kids.  Past the novelty of a new week, but not actually the end.

Flotsam and Jetsam

Can we talk about birthday party goodie bags for a moment?  

 Here are the bullet points of today's rant/lecture:

• Every adult hates them

The host adult has carefully and thoughtfully designing a parting gift that stayed true to the "theme" of the party, spending time and money planning, creating, and assembling that she would, frankly, rather spend hanging out with her kids or upgrading her Netflix and watching tv. 

Or she freaked out at the last minute, raced to the party supply store, nearly mowed down an elderly lady coming out of Bed, Bath and Beyond with a cart full of scented candles, and spent a ton of money on junk the "kids" are just going to throw away.

The recipient adult (who is probably someone you know and like) now has a bag of trash, candy, and non-working flotsam to secret away from her child, who could not possibly part with that novelty eraser that only smears every pencil mark it comes into contact with.  Thank you for giving my kid one more thing to talk to her therapist about.

• They create a culture of consumerism and entitlement

Kids don't need it, they basically just had the equivalent of a kegger with a giant costumed mouse presiding, that they contributed nothing NOTHING to. They should be giving YOU a gift! Oh, wait. They did give your kid gifts.

But they expect it now. And it better be good.  I have actually heard 2nd graders comparing notes over past party bags. I have heard kids complain about the gift they were just given for coming to a friends party. Stop paying off my kid.

You know what my kid needs to get for coming to your kid's party? A high five and a thank you note.  They are a huge waste of resources

• They are a huge waste of resources

No one wants to spend their time and money on something that will go unnoticed, unused and unloved.  Spend it on wine and an HBOGo subscription.

We collectively are filling our world with trash. Please stop.  Stop buying it and companies will stop making it.

• They highlight 'have vs. have not' 

Not all parents can afford to do this.  Just like santa can't seem to afford to leave my kid an ipad, 'Beats' headphones, and a guitar.  (Side note: I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop doing that, Santa)

My kid once received a parting "goodie bag" with the exact same craft kit that we had given to the birthday girl. (for the record, I have a $15 rule, unless you are related by blood or the one and only BFF, for whom I bump it to $25)  So. Um. That's embarrassing. For both of us. My kid was MORTIFIED. She was 5.  That's right, even a 5 year old gets it.

Now, for the record, I have been, in the past guilty of getting caught up in this.  Here are some of the things we've given as party favors in the past: 

• Rainbow Fairy and Magic Treehouse Books
• Lego mini-figs
• Pool noodles
• Helium balloons (in a fit of panic when I realized I left the glow sticks at home) 
• Mini-pumpkins the kids had painted 
• Copies of Leonardo and the Terrible Monster by Mo Willems

However, for the past several birthdays, we have skipped it. And do you know what? I was thanked. 

By multiple parents.  

Car Talk

On the way home from school Ruby (4 years old) pipes up from the back seat, "Mama, I know how to tell if a dog is a girl or a boy."

Me, "Yup, boy dogs have a pe..."

Ruby, interrupting, "No, Mama. not the boy dogs. GIRL dogs have a scar on their tummies from where the doctor cut them and made it so they can't have babies."

A very brief pause

An audible gasp, "MAMA. Could someone do that to ME?"
     (as if some random stranger is going to sneak up behind her)

Me, "Well, yes, if you decide you don't want to have any babies you can choose to have an operation that will keep you from ever getting pregnant."

Ruby, "But mama, what if I do want to have babies later, but I'm sexing with a boy and I don't want to have babies now?"

Me, "Oh. There's a medicine you can take to keep from getting pregnant.  It doesn't keep you from getting pregnant forever, but will work so long as you keep taking it.  There's other ways, too, but the pill is the easiest and most effective."

Ruby, "Huh. Okay."

It's good to have a plan.

They want to eat. Again.

While feeding the people who live in my house isn't my ONLY task in life, it is definitely one of the most stressful for me.

First of all, I have to do it at least three times a day, every day.

Second of all, they want variety, "But we had that last weeeeeeeek," is not an uncommon thing to hear come out of a short person's mouth around here.

Third of all, they hate variety (uh huh, contradiction, I know), "I only want turkey and cheese sandwiches in my lunch FOR. EV. ER!"

Fourth of all, the outside world has pressured me into being healthy and if there is one thing we can all rally behind (even if it's secretly, inside my head) we all hate kale. And chia seeds. But not quinoa, I love that shit.  The kids, however; they hate it.

But I will continue to foist it on them in the name of good health and expanding your palate even while they refuse to do more than take 20 micro no thank you bites (equivalent to 2 normal bites) because I want you, world, to think I am a good mother.

But really. Honestly, I'd rather just eat cereal over the sink and call it a night.

Things I forced my kids to try last week:

Super yummy cheesy quinoa I loved it. They hated it.
Shepherd's pie None of us really liked it, but I ate it because I'm a grown up.
Crazy delicious cheesy spinach I loved it. Ruby loved it. The others were pissed that there was a vegetable in their cheese.
Soft pretzels Everyone loved these. What kind of monster wouldn't like these?

Home made soft pretzels

It's time to make pretzels again!  I have a hard time keeping these in the house for more than a day or two, they are so very yummy. 

It's a four stage process: mix the dough,  (invisible step: let it rise) shape the dough, blanch the pretzels in a baking soda bath and then bake them.  Lengthy, but SO very worth it.  

Here's the recipe I have been using 

So I mixed my dough with the recipe I normally use and as I was putting the mixer away, (in this ridiculous rental kitchen there isn't space to keep the mixer on the counter) I remembered Helena Bonham Starter in the fridge!  GAAA!! 

Helena is the Sourdough starter I took home from the baking class I took with Judith in the city.  The baker told us we should name our starter and introduce her to everyone with whom we share a fridge to prevent an unfortunate mishap come trash day.  Everyone loves her. 

Now I am having a bake off: me, making the old recipe in one corner and in the other: Me, making a new sourdough pretzel recipe. 

I found a sourdough pretzel recipe over at JoyTheBaker's site.

Which pretzel will be the best?  Interesting chemistry note here, the recipes are very similar, but my regular one calls for bathing the pretzels in a pot of boiling baking soda- water before baking them (the dough feels kind of crusty when you pull it out of the bath, so I assume this is to achieve the wonderful chewy brown exterior) and the new sourdough recipe skips this step.  

I decided I would a tray of the new sourdough first, boil half and leave the other half plain.  This way I can finish off the batch in the best way possible. 

Here they are in the baking soda bath, the photo is a little steamy.     

The top one hasn't been boiled

The bottom one has. See how the color is different, it looks a little crusty and it's puffed up?  

Here's how they lined up on the tray:

Here's how they came out:

Looks pretty obvious that boiling in the baking soda bath is what makes pretzels more than just bread. This fact did not keep the kids from eating both kinds.  There was one kid (of 4) who said she preferred the unboiled kind.  I prefer the boiled ones, turns out, here, looks aren't deceiving at all, the unboiled really just taste and feel like bread.

But the original experiment was old recipe vs. sourdough recipe! How'd it turn out? Who won?

Here are the final products. 

They are both chewy on the outside and soft on the inside.  The size difference is due to my not weighing the dough pieces to be certain they were he same size. They were both bathed and washed with beaten egg (for shine) and topped with salt.  

The taste testing kids were split evenly for their favorite.  But I will tell you the truth.  They taste exactly the same.  And they are delicious.  Both recipes are the same amount of work, the original recipe produces more dough, but it's really not much more.  So if you have sourdough starter kicking around in the fridge, make them that way, it's a great way to use it.  If not, make them with the old recipe.  Either way, they aren't going to last long.

We're all a bit crafty here

I am working on something crafty for the kids' easter baskets.  Ruby got an animal pompom kit for christmas that I am riffing off of.  So far I've made three bunnies, two ducklings and a blue bird chick.  

I put them on the top shelf of the book case in my office, thinking the kids would never notice them there (I have actually put gifts FOR THEM in the cart at Target and they haven't noticed-generally, they are not observant little people). But Soph spied them and it was love at first sight. She came into the living room after the other kids had fallen asleep to discuss naming them.  I admitted that I am planning on putting them in easter baskets (no flinch from her), she then requested that the big bunny, Humphrey, she's calling him, be hers.

Yesterday she was secretly inspecting the bluebird, trying to mentally reverse engineer how I made it, when she tugged a bit too hard and the knot holding his head and body together slipped loose.  She came into the kitchen and sorrowfully admitted the mishap.  No biggie, I can stitch them back together, just leave it on my desk. Oops. Ruby spied him sitting there, waiting to be mended. The jig is up. I am still going to put them, in baskets, hopefully this won't lead to the demise of Santa. (Although I'd probably be okay with that pesky shelf elf taking a hike.)

Homework Help

How do you get your kids to let you help them with the mechanics of homework and studying?

I have a million ideas for getting them organized: folders, dividers, highlighters, post its! This is the crap I live for.  Office supply stores are one of my favorite places to go.  So much promise.

Most of these aren't my own, original ideas.  In the eighth grade we were required to take a semester of "study skills."  The teacher gave us binders and dividers, showed us how to set them up with our subjects in the order we had them and then added pockets with "to do" and "to turn it" on either side.  She showed us different ways to organize each class with internal tabs of "notes" "homework," "class work." She taught us note taking strategies for lectures, watching movies, reading articles and textbooks. Not to mention all the silly test taking strategies, remember "if it's multiple choice and you aren't certain, chose 'C'?  Her class stuck with me, it got me through high school and college.

Now if I could just convince my kids that I have real, tested, solid ideas.

In Hindsight #1

Last October my father-in-law called and asked us to seriously consider flying out to California (from the east coast) for the christmas holidays, even though it was an "off year" for us traveling.

 "I know you came out last christmas and just a few months ago, but your mom isn't at her best, and I'm really not sure how much longer she'll be fun for." 

My mother-in-law is a lovely lady; super smart, family lawyer, world traveler, interested in politics and life, worked with BigBrothers/ BigSisters for years as BigSister. But she is in the early stages of dementia. She has coped pretty well for a few years now, but its pretty obvious things are getting worse.

So we came.

I'll admit to being pretty bummed and a bit resentful. We have some very fun traditions for our "at home" years: we have a big tree trimming party with as many friends as we can cram into the house, people from all of our various circles, I bake and bake and bake and there's the shelf elf craziness and gingerbread house building... and we are going to miss it all, again.  Just not having a christmas tree in the house is a huge disappointment.  As it is, I only get to unpack our family's ornaments once every two years. Without a tree in the house, December is just sad.   Coming out to California means skipping all of that, plus the aggravating logistics of buying gifts and traveling and staying in a space that is not our own (my in-laws are wonderfully hospitable, but it's hard to keep three kids occupied for three weeks in a house that isn't their own).  Then there's the difficulty of getting everything back across the country.  These are the years I demand all the kids' gifts have to be smaller than a shoe box and weigh less than 2 pounds. Which never works, by the way. We've shipped giant wooden trucks and carefully wrapped and packed completed lego builds, we've crammed giant stuffed animals and double boxed cases of wine glasses (those were not the kids').

My Father-in-law was right, she was worse, just since the summer.

To the point that my husband asked me about a seemingly pie-in-the-sky idea, that we pack up and move across the country.  He wasn't happy with his job, the school itself was falling into financial mess and things were not looking good for any employee.  His dad could clearly use more family around and Steve wanted to be a support for him. 

"Yes"

I said yes.  How could I say anything else?

First Day Jitters

Today is the first day of school for the kids after an exceptionally long, hard, adventurous summer. 

Sophie started middle school this morning.

It's been a fairly gentle start, there was a morning of sixth grade orientation last Friday, there were school photos (Before the school year even starts! crazy) and there was shopping for PE uniforms. We walked and rode her route to and from school several times, making observations and timing each leg. The first day is a wacky schedule so while she was getting ready, I wrote the number of her fist classroom on the back of her hand (She has a color-coded schedule in her binder, this is not passing as organization, I promise) so she'd know where to go after locking up her bike.

She's insanely confident.

Her cousin backed out of riding bikes to school today, but Soph was happy to ride alone. "Want me to ride with you?" I asked her.

 "No, I've got this, mom." 

Off she went. She should be home in about 10 minutes, provided she isn't hanging out in the paring lot chatting with her new friends.

 I guess my jitters could just be the coffee.

Disorganization 101

Let me start by saying that I am frequently told, "you're the most organized person I know." Not true. In reality I am a fabulous actress.

I am a naturally disorganized person. I assume this is why I love office supplies so much, there's so much hope in office max: post-its and file folders, color-coded labels and pens, note pads and index cards, mmmmm. I love it. I like to day dream about a hyper-organized craft/sewing/office space. The thing is, no matter how hard I try, or what great solutions Ikea can provide, my craft room will always need to have doors to hide the mess. My brain just isn't wired that way. Sometimes I hit my clutter/chaos threshold and I get all jiggly inside and I absolutely must at that instant clean it up!! But mostly, I just don't mind.

There are tons of good reasons to be organized and I have heard and live with them all. Having three kids demands a certain level of order, while I have no qualms about eating a bowl of cereal for dinner every night, I won't give that to them. (this is one of things I am looking forward to about them going off to college in 15 years) I hate planning ahead. My therapist told me that I can't plan ahead because my mom had cancer and progressed quickly. So I am unable to plan more than two weeks ahead, forever working on the premise that you never know what lies ahead. I think it's the ADD, but to each their own.

So now I might be looking down the barrel of therapy and tutoring for Sophie, combined with dance and music lessons for her and Will. Cereal for dinner is looking pretty good.

I am not organized enough to have a kids with any special needs, I have too many of my own. I also don't have enough time, neither in each day nor in her childhood. But I'll do my best.

I'm not as normal as you

Over the past 5 weeks or so, I've been working my way through the beginnings of psycho-educational testing for Sophie. She's 7, she's easily distracted (like me), she's bright (no really, the numbers bear it out), she's clever. She sometimes has a hard time getting her thoughts out in a timely and logical manner. She has a hard time making to the end of a multi-step project (like me, see my craft table for proof) forget cleaning up, piles are the order of the day (I know no one like that).

My biggest issue is that she seems to be having a hard time learning to read. At the end of her kindergarten year, after seeing the reading specialist for several months didn't improve things much, I started looking more closely at her behavior when reading. Fidgety, too hot, too cold, my neck itches, moving the book around, touching her eyes, one eye closed...and then her actual reading, skipping over things, going backwards, sounding a word out and then forgetting it 3 seconds later. So I took her to a pediatric opthomologist who specializes in eye tracking (movement) problems. She doesn't have any problems with tracking, BUT she's far-sighted. She was straining to see the letters and exhausting herself. Now she wears glasses for reading and school work.

Here we are, about 9 months later, and her reading has improved, markedly, but still she's not reading on a first grade level and it is a lot of work for her. So we've had the first round of evaluations done and the results (according to psychologist A) show that she has Dyslexia and ADD. Now, dyslexia just refers to general reading learning difficulties and ADD is technically no longer a diagnosis, it's been removed from the DSM IV. She has "non-active ADHD". Again, according to the first psychologist. Her advice for helping Sophie was essentially to stay the course. Not really all that helpful.

Psychologist A has been at this for 30 years, she a great tester. But, as psychologist B pointed out: the tests are the tests and the numbers are the numbers, it's all about how you read them. So I am seeing psychologist B (NEWER! YOUNGER! FRESHER!) tomorrow for a second opinion reading. I think the first reading was really pretty spot on, but I am hoping the she'll be able to point us toward more testing to really get at exactly what Sophie's reading problem is. And follow that with a more specific plan for helping her.

Primers

Sophie and Will are both learning to read right now. Sophie is working very hard and gets frustrated easily. It seems to be coming easily to Will, which I am concerned, may add to Sophie's frustration.

I remember my best friend, when I was 5, Titus. He was 4. I have no idea how far apart in age we really were, now that I am a parent of 2 kids 14 months apart I know there are substantial differences. But Titus was my height and he was not starting kindergarten and I was. I was SO upset that he could read. His mom taught him at home because he was interested in learning. When I pushed, my mom told me I would learn to read at school. And I did. On Dick and Jane primers, in the first grade.

I was so excited about reading. I couldn't be stopped. I devoured everything I could get my hands on. I won the "Coke & Popsicle" contest every month, for most books read. I earned many a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut's "Book It!" promotion.

I remember my first chapter book, The Babysitter's Club #1, hand picked by me, bought for a car trip from Pa to NC. I was finished with it before we arrived.

In the fourth grade I read Stephen King's Firestarter. All through Jr high and high school it was not uncommon to find a pile of novels in my room that I was reading simultaneously. The pile was always a mix of genres, Nancy Drew, SuperFudge, A Wrinkle in Time, The Chronicles of Narnia. I was never really interested in non-fiction, though.

I worry about Sophie and her reading. She's been getting some extra help at school with the reading specialist and since she's started with Kathleen she's been more willing to try. Although not without my prompting. She definitely prefers math over reading and creative pursuits over math.

I know she will learn to read, I just want her to enjoy it like I do.