I am not quite sure I remember the last time I bounded out of bed ready to face the challenges of a new day.
Now it is more of a (expletive of choice to be supplied) moment as I realise that I need to dash out of bed and do all the things that need to done before the girls surface and the battles of the new day begin.
As an aside my girls like to start the day fighting and bickering.
What happened to those mornings of feeling invincible and alive and not needing to be caffeinated? Am I remembering incorrectly? I just wonder if I was having someone else's memory and being nostalgic for something I have not experienced. I am reading some mind-expanding stuff and am married to a Sci-Fi addict so these thought appear at intervals.
Did age make me its slave? Are the lines and wrinkles the character and reward for living the way I do? Not that exciting but busy, should you be interested. Was I ever that energised?
I could take a more holistic approach to being tired and change my diet, exercise more (it is shamefully lacking at present due to (excuse of choice)), drink less caffeine and read less at night. Where is the fun in that, I ask?
Being tired is a state of mind. I mind being tired so I am off to make a cup of tea to wake up then read my book.
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
cough cough splutter
.. always good when you are about to board a plane and head to a wedding. If I don't get quarantined or at least sat on by a burly member of security.
It is a chesty cough that makes my laugh sound like Mutley.
I have to play at said wedding so hope not to hurl. It is a short piece and is gorgeous so hope I do it justice. Lyrics were a bit dodgy in places but I shan't elaborate.
Have a fab dress, a daughter who is flower-girl and a new book for the plane- cool.
Speak when I get back. Don't miss me too much.....;)
It is a chesty cough that makes my laugh sound like Mutley.
I have to play at said wedding so hope not to hurl. It is a short piece and is gorgeous so hope I do it justice. Lyrics were a bit dodgy in places but I shan't elaborate.
Have a fab dress, a daughter who is flower-girl and a new book for the plane- cool.
Speak when I get back. Don't miss me too much.....;)
Friday, September 4, 2009
Musical ADD addendum
I have been thinking long and hard about my iPod reference and have come up with a product that would solve all my musical woes and improve my attention span.
I call it the iPod Touchy- it can feel the vibrations through my hands and knows what mood I am in and can make a musical judgment based on its reading.
If I am feeling pre-menstrual then it will mix Metallica, ambient noises and sappy lyrics with more Metallica or Pendulum and hand over the chocolate.
Happy and bouncy- dance music.
Maudlin- it will decide as I am not short of less than cheery music. Placebo always makes me feel better.
Just a thought.
I call it the iPod Touchy- it can feel the vibrations through my hands and knows what mood I am in and can make a musical judgment based on its reading.
If I am feeling pre-menstrual then it will mix Metallica, ambient noises and sappy lyrics with more Metallica or Pendulum and hand over the chocolate.
Happy and bouncy- dance music.
Maudlin- it will decide as I am not short of less than cheery music. Placebo always makes me feel better.
Just a thought.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Musical ADD
I think I am suffering from musical ADD and I am blaming the iPod.
Gone are the days when I listened to a whole album. Now I am lucky if I hear an entire track; the skip button gets used far too often.
My attention span is shot and tracks I used to like are lucky if they get past 2 minutes. I notice this most when I am in the car and the iPod setting is random but each track that comes up seems to be not what I am looking for (cue U2).
I am not sure if I am the only one who seems incapable of concentrating. We are so used to immediate gratification that we seek it at every opportunity.
I also made a few compilation CDs for a friend who wanted her music tastes to be brought into the 21st century. Was I able to listen to the fruit of my labours? No. I skipped through most of the tracks again.
What to do? Maybe I just need to sit down and make a concerted effort to listen to a whole CD. I could add a reward, such as chocolate.
Maybe I just need some new music that makes my pulse race and doesn't want me to skip tracks at the first opportunity.
Gone are the days when I listened to a whole album. Now I am lucky if I hear an entire track; the skip button gets used far too often.
My attention span is shot and tracks I used to like are lucky if they get past 2 minutes. I notice this most when I am in the car and the iPod setting is random but each track that comes up seems to be not what I am looking for (cue U2).
I am not sure if I am the only one who seems incapable of concentrating. We are so used to immediate gratification that we seek it at every opportunity.
I also made a few compilation CDs for a friend who wanted her music tastes to be brought into the 21st century. Was I able to listen to the fruit of my labours? No. I skipped through most of the tracks again.
What to do? Maybe I just need to sit down and make a concerted effort to listen to a whole CD. I could add a reward, such as chocolate.
Maybe I just need some new music that makes my pulse race and doesn't want me to skip tracks at the first opportunity.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Christmas cake
I baked my Christmas cake today and that in itself should be the entry but it's not. What did you expect?
Several phone calls were made to the folks,whilst baking, to check that I had the trusted family recipe and had mixed it as I should. It was kind of a blindfold cooking lesson.
For me Christmas cake evokes so many memories of the festive season being spent with my folks in England, hoping for the white Christmas we hardly ever had. The Queen's speech was over and a crappy film about to be begin but it was grand.
The washing up could wait as my brother and I would fight over who washed and who dried and more importantly what the music would be.
I didn't eat the stuff [Christmas cake] for a long time as it contained dried fruit. It still does but I believe my taste buds have changed and now have a nostalgia region.
Mum used to make the cake and pudding way in advance. The pudding elicited a more exciting reaction as it contained either Guinness or Mackeson stout. Mum hardly ever drank so the results were amusing to say the least. My grandmother helped and she also loved the velvety liquid that rewarded the hard work.
I remember my mother's biceps bulging as mixtures were stirred. A sweaty brow was mopped and a dark liquid was quaffed. The liquid always made Mum laugh and it was a while before I worked out why or experienced the sensations myself. Nan got to be quite giggly too.
I haven't had Christmas with the folks for 6 years and I miss it. I am not saying it is the most amazing time, just that it is home and takes me back to my childhood and I like that.
I suppose I make my Christmas cake because I am a transplant here and do not want my country's traditions to be forgotten. I am a traditionalist in many ways and a Brit through and through.
My younger daughter and I made it together and maybe that is what it is all about- sharing an experience that will hopefully be fondly remembered. The older one won't touch the stuff for the reasons I wouldn't but the younger one will be raring to go.
The cake will be liberally laced with brandy up until a few days before Christmas to add marzipan and icing. To most Americans this is the most disgusting dessert imaginable but we see this export as a test of courage- are you man/woman enough?
The icing 2 years ago was a staid affair. The older daughter and I plonked snowmen and a golden Santa atop the royal icing- homemade naturally. Mr Claus did look like he was hitting a Liberace period.
I can't say I came up with the best icing story but I have copied it and it is with this that I leave you.
Picture a iced cake surface that is smooth as glass yet evoking fluffy snow. A snowman looks out from his central position. His gaze is far away almost ethereal. This is the sole decoration apart from a splash of orange juice at the base of the snowman and little fingerprints that hint at a canine's hasty departure after his relief.
Several phone calls were made to the folks,whilst baking, to check that I had the trusted family recipe and had mixed it as I should. It was kind of a blindfold cooking lesson.
For me Christmas cake evokes so many memories of the festive season being spent with my folks in England, hoping for the white Christmas we hardly ever had. The Queen's speech was over and a crappy film about to be begin but it was grand.
The washing up could wait as my brother and I would fight over who washed and who dried and more importantly what the music would be.
I didn't eat the stuff [Christmas cake] for a long time as it contained dried fruit. It still does but I believe my taste buds have changed and now have a nostalgia region.
Mum used to make the cake and pudding way in advance. The pudding elicited a more exciting reaction as it contained either Guinness or Mackeson stout. Mum hardly ever drank so the results were amusing to say the least. My grandmother helped and she also loved the velvety liquid that rewarded the hard work.
I remember my mother's biceps bulging as mixtures were stirred. A sweaty brow was mopped and a dark liquid was quaffed. The liquid always made Mum laugh and it was a while before I worked out why or experienced the sensations myself. Nan got to be quite giggly too.
I haven't had Christmas with the folks for 6 years and I miss it. I am not saying it is the most amazing time, just that it is home and takes me back to my childhood and I like that.
I suppose I make my Christmas cake because I am a transplant here and do not want my country's traditions to be forgotten. I am a traditionalist in many ways and a Brit through and through.
My younger daughter and I made it together and maybe that is what it is all about- sharing an experience that will hopefully be fondly remembered. The older one won't touch the stuff for the reasons I wouldn't but the younger one will be raring to go.
The cake will be liberally laced with brandy up until a few days before Christmas to add marzipan and icing. To most Americans this is the most disgusting dessert imaginable but we see this export as a test of courage- are you man/woman enough?
The icing 2 years ago was a staid affair. The older daughter and I plonked snowmen and a golden Santa atop the royal icing- homemade naturally. Mr Claus did look like he was hitting a Liberace period.
I can't say I came up with the best icing story but I have copied it and it is with this that I leave you.
Picture a iced cake surface that is smooth as glass yet evoking fluffy snow. A snowman looks out from his central position. His gaze is far away almost ethereal. This is the sole decoration apart from a splash of orange juice at the base of the snowman and little fingerprints that hint at a canine's hasty departure after his relief.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Saturday night
Gone are the days when the hallowed words of "Saturday night" would send me into a frenzy.
We would work out where we were going to go, where to have drinkies unless drinkies was the plan for the evening, where to eat, which friends we could see and or whether we could slide in a movie as well.
There would be a brief rustle of fabric as everything goes with jeans and a helmet as I rode pillion for years and then we were off....
I actually remember some of those nights too including one where I got ridiculously drunk and ended up serving topless in a bar!
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
I am eying the clock and wondering when it is bedtime and I don't mean bedtime with the Barry White accompaniment either.
Time to sleep and dream, per chance.
My book is calling in muted tones. One murder has happened and we have met the ball-busting female Lieutenant and her equally ballsy female Detective. A fast-paced read with minimal brain engagement.
In case you ask, the Cullens have gone hunting and won't be back for a few days. They left a lovely note.
I don't drink now either. I lost a taste for it whilst incubating my elder daughter. I had hoped that the taste would return and I had a gin smuggled into the hospital after the birth but the smell was so bad (to me) that I thought I would hurl. Never got the taste back.
Movies- all hail netflix and friends who babysit.I have a rough idea what is happening in the movie world as a checker at my local store informs me. He thinks I should have seen Transfomers but as I remember my brother having the Optimus Prime toy back in the 80s and said toy bouncing off my head having been launched at me, I thought better of it.
Riding pillion? Not for a while either. The Vespa was so comfortable and other bikes on which I have been on the back were great too. My husband's Suzuki does feel like you are dislocating your hips though especially at speed. The best was this Kawasaki 750 that easily hit 110 with me on the back. My face hurt through laughing after that one.
Do I miss those nights? Yes. Would I change what I have? Sometimes but on the whole I have no regrets.
Life moves on and the oven has pre-heated so slam in the cookies and fire up the computer (media is consumed so differently now) as it is movie watching time.I have no idea yet what it will be but as I am so forgetful you could have told me and I would have forgotten. At least now we don't disturb anyone else when we get up for a pee.
Whatever you are doing- do it well, have fun and sleep well.
We would work out where we were going to go, where to have drinkies unless drinkies was the plan for the evening, where to eat, which friends we could see and or whether we could slide in a movie as well.
There would be a brief rustle of fabric as everything goes with jeans and a helmet as I rode pillion for years and then we were off....
I actually remember some of those nights too including one where I got ridiculously drunk and ended up serving topless in a bar!
Oh how the mighty have fallen.
I am eying the clock and wondering when it is bedtime and I don't mean bedtime with the Barry White accompaniment either.
Time to sleep and dream, per chance.
My book is calling in muted tones. One murder has happened and we have met the ball-busting female Lieutenant and her equally ballsy female Detective. A fast-paced read with minimal brain engagement.
In case you ask, the Cullens have gone hunting and won't be back for a few days. They left a lovely note.
I don't drink now either. I lost a taste for it whilst incubating my elder daughter. I had hoped that the taste would return and I had a gin smuggled into the hospital after the birth but the smell was so bad (to me) that I thought I would hurl. Never got the taste back.
Movies- all hail netflix and friends who babysit.I have a rough idea what is happening in the movie world as a checker at my local store informs me. He thinks I should have seen Transfomers but as I remember my brother having the Optimus Prime toy back in the 80s and said toy bouncing off my head having been launched at me, I thought better of it.
Riding pillion? Not for a while either. The Vespa was so comfortable and other bikes on which I have been on the back were great too. My husband's Suzuki does feel like you are dislocating your hips though especially at speed. The best was this Kawasaki 750 that easily hit 110 with me on the back. My face hurt through laughing after that one.
Do I miss those nights? Yes. Would I change what I have? Sometimes but on the whole I have no regrets.
Life moves on and the oven has pre-heated so slam in the cookies and fire up the computer (media is consumed so differently now) as it is movie watching time.I have no idea yet what it will be but as I am so forgetful you could have told me and I would have forgotten. At least now we don't disturb anyone else when we get up for a pee.
Whatever you are doing- do it well, have fun and sleep well.
Friday, August 28, 2009
New regime
I feel like a bit of a drill sergeant at the moment. I like the idea of a uniform but many years of wearing a school uniform will either warm you to the idea or make you rebel. I am currently looking for a rebellious uniform.
Things will be done in the way in which I suggest or no TV. You miss TV, ladies,
"Oh dear. How sad. Never mind."
Kids will misbehave but, in my humble opinion, it is to test the rules. Now we have the rules and thumb screws let's see how this unfolds.
Back to business. I have devised sticker charts for the ladies- 2 each- to be filled in each day. Talk of admin and over-kill but this is what they requested in order to improve behaviour.
The stickers are not gold stars but if forced into it I will get them. I have to make sure that there are equal numbers of each stickers so the fighting doesn't start before it needs to.
The completion of each daily chart means TV. Gaps in said charts means staring at the blank wall and imagining the images you are missing or the low-tech option of, shock horror, reading a book.
On the charts are the old favourites such as:
no whining
no fighting
no being rude
listen
stop when told
eat nicely
I am not expecting too much just to instill a few ground rules. You cannot batter your sister because, "she started it!"
"I wanted to" is also not a reason for not listening or throwing things around a room. Drawing on the walls also does not warrant this response.
I would like my ladies to be ladies and not little horrors. No one wants yucky kids around as:
(1) it is unpleasant for all around
(2) it just makes those without children even more thankful for their decision
(3) superior Mummy sneers may make me break the no fighting rule even if she started it and I really wanted to.
Things will be done in the way in which I suggest or no TV. You miss TV, ladies,
"Oh dear. How sad. Never mind."
Kids will misbehave but, in my humble opinion, it is to test the rules. Now we have the rules and thumb screws let's see how this unfolds.
Back to business. I have devised sticker charts for the ladies- 2 each- to be filled in each day. Talk of admin and over-kill but this is what they requested in order to improve behaviour.
The stickers are not gold stars but if forced into it I will get them. I have to make sure that there are equal numbers of each stickers so the fighting doesn't start before it needs to.
The completion of each daily chart means TV. Gaps in said charts means staring at the blank wall and imagining the images you are missing or the low-tech option of, shock horror, reading a book.
On the charts are the old favourites such as:
no whining
no fighting
no being rude
listen
stop when told
eat nicely
I am not expecting too much just to instill a few ground rules. You cannot batter your sister because, "she started it!"
"I wanted to" is also not a reason for not listening or throwing things around a room. Drawing on the walls also does not warrant this response.
I would like my ladies to be ladies and not little horrors. No one wants yucky kids around as:
(1) it is unpleasant for all around
(2) it just makes those without children even more thankful for their decision
(3) superior Mummy sneers may make me break the no fighting rule even if she started it and I really wanted to.
Feedback
Firstly, I was impressed to see that someone was reading this waffle. JB pointed out my incorrect use of the superlative and I thank him.
My language is suffering and I put this down to a child-like enthusiasm for writing without a care for the results. Perhaps I am around children too much and do not really used my brain. My report to myself- must try harder and get over it as we are human.
I have no idea why a discussion on the finer point of the English language is so satisfying. I suppose I must apply those 4 famous words I ask my mother to use, "must get out more" or accept the fact that language is glorious and its working a guilty pleasure.
So, I had the initial teacher-parent conference regarding my older daughter (I have but 2 yet it feels more so comparative and not superlative).
I was brutally honest- she is capable, easily distracted, chatty, unable to sit still, has problems listening, needs challenging and a firm foot behind her to guide her in the right direction.
I am not quite sure that teachers are used to such bluntness. I am sure that some are utterly blinded by their offspring and could never speak ill of them but I am a realist.
I do not believe that children are angels and can do no wrong. I find most small children to be quite cruel and evil to one another in the most hurtful of ways. Why would I deny this side of their personalities?
It will be interesting to see how she is placed and whether she can do what is required without the tantrums or a feeling that school is tough and she is hard done by. I must make her read and we are not talking War and Peace as light bed-time reading but something with teeth should that make sense. I think bribery will play a role but luckily there is ice cream in the fridge.
I have no idea where this is going but I promised myself that once the older of the girls went back to school I would set myself a little homework and write a little each day. I am finding it therapeutic.
I would love to digress about politics and social concerns but there is not much to report.
Breakfast with friends which was punctuated by a fire alarm that sounded like crickets on speed not once but thrice! Errands- yawn.
Blogging is a form of escapism and I like it. Yes I have been sucked into the whole Twilight thing but have read other books too- promise. I finished Donna Tartt's The Secret History and Jill Dawson's The Great Lover. These were amazing reads with great plots, good character development and language that was so beautiful it almost made you cry.
As a digression- see there is no point to this whatsoever- The Great Lover is a fictional life of the poet Rupert Brooke and is set in Edwardian England. There is use of actual poems and letters from his life but used in a fictional setting. The poems are glorious. Rupert Brooke was a WWI poet. His most famous lines are,
"IF I should die, think only this of me;
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England....."
But you know what? NO vampires and no moody Robert Pattinson so I came crawling back to the Twilight saga. I may have to hide these books. It is almost an addiction.
Bollocks- just looked at the time- gotta dash.
Just remember- 3 or more superlative- 2 comparative.
All mistakes are my own!
So I will go and see what mischief my younger daughter has wreaked and maybe sneak in a little visit with the Cullens.
My language is suffering and I put this down to a child-like enthusiasm for writing without a care for the results. Perhaps I am around children too much and do not really used my brain. My report to myself- must try harder and get over it as we are human.
I have no idea why a discussion on the finer point of the English language is so satisfying. I suppose I must apply those 4 famous words I ask my mother to use, "must get out more" or accept the fact that language is glorious and its working a guilty pleasure.
So, I had the initial teacher-parent conference regarding my older daughter (I have but 2 yet it feels more so comparative and not superlative).
I was brutally honest- she is capable, easily distracted, chatty, unable to sit still, has problems listening, needs challenging and a firm foot behind her to guide her in the right direction.
I am not quite sure that teachers are used to such bluntness. I am sure that some are utterly blinded by their offspring and could never speak ill of them but I am a realist.
I do not believe that children are angels and can do no wrong. I find most small children to be quite cruel and evil to one another in the most hurtful of ways. Why would I deny this side of their personalities?
It will be interesting to see how she is placed and whether she can do what is required without the tantrums or a feeling that school is tough and she is hard done by. I must make her read and we are not talking War and Peace as light bed-time reading but something with teeth should that make sense. I think bribery will play a role but luckily there is ice cream in the fridge.
I have no idea where this is going but I promised myself that once the older of the girls went back to school I would set myself a little homework and write a little each day. I am finding it therapeutic.
I would love to digress about politics and social concerns but there is not much to report.
Breakfast with friends which was punctuated by a fire alarm that sounded like crickets on speed not once but thrice! Errands- yawn.
Blogging is a form of escapism and I like it. Yes I have been sucked into the whole Twilight thing but have read other books too- promise. I finished Donna Tartt's The Secret History and Jill Dawson's The Great Lover. These were amazing reads with great plots, good character development and language that was so beautiful it almost made you cry.
As a digression- see there is no point to this whatsoever- The Great Lover is a fictional life of the poet Rupert Brooke and is set in Edwardian England. There is use of actual poems and letters from his life but used in a fictional setting. The poems are glorious. Rupert Brooke was a WWI poet. His most famous lines are,
"IF I should die, think only this of me;
That there's some corner of a foreign field
That is for ever England....."
But you know what? NO vampires and no moody Robert Pattinson so I came crawling back to the Twilight saga. I may have to hide these books. It is almost an addiction.
Bollocks- just looked at the time- gotta dash.
Just remember- 3 or more superlative- 2 comparative.
All mistakes are my own!
So I will go and see what mischief my younger daughter has wreaked and maybe sneak in a little visit with the Cullens.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
standards or snobbery?
I am not sure if I am a snob or have high standards. Some would say that these are inclusive terms.
My oldest daughter received some books in the mail from my parents today. They were for kids her age in the English school system. I was curious to see what her English peers were up to and how it compared to our system here.
Needless to say I was horrified. The English system - or the examples provided- were so far ahead of the paltry offerings from our schools.
After an initial whine about doing some work my daughter soon enjoyed the challenges and felt better about solving the problems. This was an exercise where children had to match patterns for particular sounds,in this case "ie, y, igh, i/e" for the long "I" sound and then provide another example using the same pattern.
It quickly became apparent that the language held many more spelling anomalies than anticipated but any problem could be resolved. There was a discussion that followed about language and how and why it functions as it does. Best of all the hard work was rewarded with the ever-powerful gold star.
If a gold star is all it takes to elevate the level at which our children perform I am out to buy a boat load.
I shall position my soap box and edit the rant.
We live in a state where we want the best of everything and are particular about every detail no matter how small. We order ridiculous drinks (guilty- Peet's extra bold with an extra shot, cocoa and no whip) and could almost name the bloody cow the milk comes from BUT we overlook the academic development of our children.
We are prepared to settle for 48th out of 50 states for our standards in education but woe betide the poor barista who may accidentally use 2%. Not good enough.
Why are we demanding so little from our children? Yes they need to socialise but they also need a fundamental grounding in education that will prepare them for all of their academic endeavours not some hand-holding colour page.
Children need to aim as high as they can and be given material that will challenge and stimulate curiosity. It is never to early to start.
Every child is an individual and mandated testing does not allow for that, I know. I also appreciate that this issue is way more complicated than my simplistic rant but I care too much and know that we can get our kids, no matter their ability, to strive for more and succeed. All it takes is gold stars and a fun approach.
California needs to buck up its ideas and stop pandering to children and do-gooders who believe they know best and start educating properly.
I am looking for a job in education so stay tuned.
My oldest daughter received some books in the mail from my parents today. They were for kids her age in the English school system. I was curious to see what her English peers were up to and how it compared to our system here.
Needless to say I was horrified. The English system - or the examples provided- were so far ahead of the paltry offerings from our schools.
After an initial whine about doing some work my daughter soon enjoyed the challenges and felt better about solving the problems. This was an exercise where children had to match patterns for particular sounds,in this case "ie, y, igh, i/e" for the long "I" sound and then provide another example using the same pattern.
It quickly became apparent that the language held many more spelling anomalies than anticipated but any problem could be resolved. There was a discussion that followed about language and how and why it functions as it does. Best of all the hard work was rewarded with the ever-powerful gold star.
If a gold star is all it takes to elevate the level at which our children perform I am out to buy a boat load.
I shall position my soap box and edit the rant.
We live in a state where we want the best of everything and are particular about every detail no matter how small. We order ridiculous drinks (guilty- Peet's extra bold with an extra shot, cocoa and no whip) and could almost name the bloody cow the milk comes from BUT we overlook the academic development of our children.
We are prepared to settle for 48th out of 50 states for our standards in education but woe betide the poor barista who may accidentally use 2%. Not good enough.
Why are we demanding so little from our children? Yes they need to socialise but they also need a fundamental grounding in education that will prepare them for all of their academic endeavours not some hand-holding colour page.
Children need to aim as high as they can and be given material that will challenge and stimulate curiosity. It is never to early to start.
Every child is an individual and mandated testing does not allow for that, I know. I also appreciate that this issue is way more complicated than my simplistic rant but I care too much and know that we can get our kids, no matter their ability, to strive for more and succeed. All it takes is gold stars and a fun approach.
California needs to buck up its ideas and stop pandering to children and do-gooders who believe they know best and start educating properly.
I am looking for a job in education so stay tuned.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Today's directive from the school
Honestly I wonder how stupid schools think parents are.
Today was a missive informing us that 37% of all children in Marin are obese and so we need to send in healthy snacks. I would like to thank the administration for pointing out the obvious. The colossal waste of trees is not appreciated.
Surely we know what is good for our kids and what is not or maybe I am assuming way too much.
Marin is obsessed with image so anyone with a slightly elevated BMI is seen as coming from another area.
(Brief pause as I had to separate a fight- I think that my girls burn quite a few calories in their pursuit of pugilism and the discovery of interesting ways of inflicting pain on the other).
There was a gloriously patronising list of what constitutes an acceptable snack- carrot cake without frosting (the best bit), zucchini bread, grapes.... and how if we encourage children to help us prepare the food then they will eat the good stuff.
There is only one English word that works at this moment- BOLLOCKS! My daughters know when they are being duped and however you attempt to disguise it a grape is still a grape and something from the bowels of Satan in their opinion.
It is an uphill battle to get the little darlings to eat fruit and veg and the tricks and bribery that have been employed to make them unknowingly and unwittingly consume them and frankly I do not take kindly to a blanket letter than points out the obvious.
If there were a cash incentive I wonder how that would work....
Knowing my luck the prize for an increase in consumption of all things healthy would probably be a week's supply of broccoli.
I don't know how to get kids to eat things that are better for them but as far as I know telling them that what they are eating is good for them will not work. There is a rebellious streak in most children so starting a revolution by not eating veg is a good start.
Maybe we just need change the plan of attack and hide the good stuff better!
Today was a missive informing us that 37% of all children in Marin are obese and so we need to send in healthy snacks. I would like to thank the administration for pointing out the obvious. The colossal waste of trees is not appreciated.
Surely we know what is good for our kids and what is not or maybe I am assuming way too much.
Marin is obsessed with image so anyone with a slightly elevated BMI is seen as coming from another area.
(Brief pause as I had to separate a fight- I think that my girls burn quite a few calories in their pursuit of pugilism and the discovery of interesting ways of inflicting pain on the other).
There was a gloriously patronising list of what constitutes an acceptable snack- carrot cake without frosting (the best bit), zucchini bread, grapes.... and how if we encourage children to help us prepare the food then they will eat the good stuff.
There is only one English word that works at this moment- BOLLOCKS! My daughters know when they are being duped and however you attempt to disguise it a grape is still a grape and something from the bowels of Satan in their opinion.
It is an uphill battle to get the little darlings to eat fruit and veg and the tricks and bribery that have been employed to make them unknowingly and unwittingly consume them and frankly I do not take kindly to a blanket letter than points out the obvious.
If there were a cash incentive I wonder how that would work....
Knowing my luck the prize for an increase in consumption of all things healthy would probably be a week's supply of broccoli.
I don't know how to get kids to eat things that are better for them but as far as I know telling them that what they are eating is good for them will not work. There is a rebellious streak in most children so starting a revolution by not eating veg is a good start.
Maybe we just need change the plan of attack and hide the good stuff better!
Monday, August 24, 2009
First grader
It has taken me a while to write something. Alas it was not through having done too much rather lamenting that I had done too little.
So I have a first grader- the cuteness of Kindergarten has subsided. The days of being the youngest have passed. There is an air of superiority toward those who are entering the school system;the badge of honour of having survived Kindergarten is proudly worn.
When asked how school was, I received a curt reply. I was informed that there was no longer a play kitchen and that is what made first grade more grown up. Maybe she has realised that education takes some play away but I also hope that learning can still be fun.
OK, so this could be shock talking. The summer holiday was long, filled with fun and devoid of the demands of school. Concentration will have to be re-learnt; the frustration will follow along with the battles over homework. I will plant the flag of victory as homework will be completed in ample time as I take no prisoners!
It is odd to think that the tests will start and the streaming will follow. Over the next 2 weeks the children will have their reading assessed to see if they are early or late readers.
If they are more proficient with their reading they will start one hour later and stay one hour later at the end of the day, if not they start earlier and finish earlier. My oldest has decided that if staying in bed is the stake then she will read everything she can get her hands on! Motivation is everything.
Let's see how it goes.
So I have a first grader- the cuteness of Kindergarten has subsided. The days of being the youngest have passed. There is an air of superiority toward those who are entering the school system;the badge of honour of having survived Kindergarten is proudly worn.
When asked how school was, I received a curt reply. I was informed that there was no longer a play kitchen and that is what made first grade more grown up. Maybe she has realised that education takes some play away but I also hope that learning can still be fun.
OK, so this could be shock talking. The summer holiday was long, filled with fun and devoid of the demands of school. Concentration will have to be re-learnt; the frustration will follow along with the battles over homework. I will plant the flag of victory as homework will be completed in ample time as I take no prisoners!
It is odd to think that the tests will start and the streaming will follow. Over the next 2 weeks the children will have their reading assessed to see if they are early or late readers.
If they are more proficient with their reading they will start one hour later and stay one hour later at the end of the day, if not they start earlier and finish earlier. My oldest has decided that if staying in bed is the stake then she will read everything she can get her hands on! Motivation is everything.
Let's see how it goes.
Monday, March 16, 2009
The Ultimate Playdate Faux-pas
..this gentle reader is worse than flashing a father of one of the children or starting a cat fight with one of the mothers who really deserves it.
This is tantamount to playdate suicide. I speak of the unspeakable crime of baking when you have little darlings over.
I am guilty and hang my head in shame. I only baked 2 dozen sumptuous lemon and almond madelines. I should have realised I was playing with the big kids but no I thought I could get away with it! All criminals think that but it's a fair cop guv'nor. Slap on the cuffs and just let me know how long I'll be inside.
Baking smacks of an age of domesticity that is no longer a part of society. I am an educated woman and I vote but I also bake. I should thank my brother for my introduction to Nigella Lawson and her tantalising treats but I digress.
Why is it so wrong I wonder? I suppose that in such a ready-made age baking is almost an ancient craft that has anecdotes attached. I remember my own grandmother baking Viennese whirls and they were great. I have yet to reproduce their beautiful simplicity and fantastic taste and I am a relatively accomplished baker.
Why is it that we don't bake but can relish a bought cake? I have always baked for my girls and think that it is something I should do for them. OK a home-baked cake never looks as wonderful as a bought one unless you are my friend, Kate.
So anyway, let me return to the point, I thought I'd whip up some cakes for the girls whilst they were all here playing; they loved them . The realisation hit me that I was baking but had now set a precedent for future playdates here and had given mothers additional pressure. I was now the mother that baked and little girls now asked their mothers why they didn't. We all have our talents. Why on earth am I putting so much emphasis on this?
It is simple, a friend of ours is always amazed when I cook something and he asks, "from scratch?", "naturally" I reply. His idea is if we can buy why go to the effort of making? I like a challenge and also find baking therapeutic. How have we become so reliant of everything being done for us? Convenience starts with "con" remember. We will pay a price one way or another.
In a time when we have also lost the art of writing letters what next? Communication has to be immediate but I love writing letters and receiving them. I actually have consciously decided to write to certain people as I could not think of using email or text. Are we so desperate not to be associated with previous generations and so deny ourselves these skills? Are love letters to be delivered over SMS now?
I am still not sure how I am tying any of this together. The joy of waffling and no one reading I suppose means I am at liberty to do so.
I shall be proud to bake and will hand myself over willingly to the authorities but will offer them a little something first.
This is tantamount to playdate suicide. I speak of the unspeakable crime of baking when you have little darlings over.
I am guilty and hang my head in shame. I only baked 2 dozen sumptuous lemon and almond madelines. I should have realised I was playing with the big kids but no I thought I could get away with it! All criminals think that but it's a fair cop guv'nor. Slap on the cuffs and just let me know how long I'll be inside.
Baking smacks of an age of domesticity that is no longer a part of society. I am an educated woman and I vote but I also bake. I should thank my brother for my introduction to Nigella Lawson and her tantalising treats but I digress.
Why is it so wrong I wonder? I suppose that in such a ready-made age baking is almost an ancient craft that has anecdotes attached. I remember my own grandmother baking Viennese whirls and they were great. I have yet to reproduce their beautiful simplicity and fantastic taste and I am a relatively accomplished baker.
Why is it that we don't bake but can relish a bought cake? I have always baked for my girls and think that it is something I should do for them. OK a home-baked cake never looks as wonderful as a bought one unless you are my friend, Kate.
So anyway, let me return to the point, I thought I'd whip up some cakes for the girls whilst they were all here playing; they loved them . The realisation hit me that I was baking but had now set a precedent for future playdates here and had given mothers additional pressure. I was now the mother that baked and little girls now asked their mothers why they didn't. We all have our talents. Why on earth am I putting so much emphasis on this?
It is simple, a friend of ours is always amazed when I cook something and he asks, "from scratch?", "naturally" I reply. His idea is if we can buy why go to the effort of making? I like a challenge and also find baking therapeutic. How have we become so reliant of everything being done for us? Convenience starts with "con" remember. We will pay a price one way or another.
In a time when we have also lost the art of writing letters what next? Communication has to be immediate but I love writing letters and receiving them. I actually have consciously decided to write to certain people as I could not think of using email or text. Are we so desperate not to be associated with previous generations and so deny ourselves these skills? Are love letters to be delivered over SMS now?
I am still not sure how I am tying any of this together. The joy of waffling and no one reading I suppose means I am at liberty to do so.
I shall be proud to bake and will hand myself over willingly to the authorities but will offer them a little something first.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Just sometimes
Just sometimes I need to post a blog entry to let people know I am still here and have a thought or two.
Just sometimes I need to step outside my comfort zone to test how I function and prove I can accept new challenges.
Just sometimes I have to do what I would least like to. I have a list of such things but if I really love someone else I have to compromise and be more mature... and it hurts.
Just sometimes I have to love as if I had just invented it. Throw caution to the wind, be in the moment, and let nothing distract me from physical and emotional pleasure.
Just sometimes I need to think and be alone.
Just sometimes I have to pretend I am not just a stay at home Mum. I am a writer, musician and teacher but this side can be denied or just ignored.
Just sometimes I need to dance around the living room with my daughters and embrace the simplicity and purity of this act as I watch the enjoyment spread across their faces.
Just sometimes I need to accept that there is only so much I can do.
Just sometimes I need to bake and eat a large chocolate cake.
Just sometimes I need to lose myself in a book to the exclusion of the outside world.
Just sometimes I need to get more involved with external events and try to make the world a better place.
Just sometimes I need to relax.
Just sometimes ........
Just sometimes I need to step outside my comfort zone to test how I function and prove I can accept new challenges.
Just sometimes I have to do what I would least like to. I have a list of such things but if I really love someone else I have to compromise and be more mature... and it hurts.
Just sometimes I have to love as if I had just invented it. Throw caution to the wind, be in the moment, and let nothing distract me from physical and emotional pleasure.
Just sometimes I need to think and be alone.
Just sometimes I have to pretend I am not just a stay at home Mum. I am a writer, musician and teacher but this side can be denied or just ignored.
Just sometimes I need to dance around the living room with my daughters and embrace the simplicity and purity of this act as I watch the enjoyment spread across their faces.
Just sometimes I need to accept that there is only so much I can do.
Just sometimes I need to bake and eat a large chocolate cake.
Just sometimes I need to lose myself in a book to the exclusion of the outside world.
Just sometimes I need to get more involved with external events and try to make the world a better place.
Just sometimes I need to relax.
Just sometimes ........
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