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!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
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 ........
Thursday, December 18, 2008
School Shooting of a sort
This week we have had an introduction to school shootings.
My daughter's elementary school is near a halfway house for mentally ill adults. When she started school we had no idea that the facility was there. In my mind this is testament to how well the house was being run. Residents were accepted into society and were integrated.
The organization has been in operation for almost 40 years and until now there had been no serious incidents.
On Tuesday one of the residents was out and, I am summarizing so bear with me, was stopped by the police. He brandished a knife and threatened the police, who used a tazer; this had minimal effect. Said resident refused to back down and police opened fire, fatally wounding the man.
The school was on temporary lock down and it is doubtful that the children had any idea of what happened. The counselor was available to talk. I know my daughter does not have the slightest inkling. Had the incident taken place 30-45 minutes later in the day when the children were on lunch break I shudder to think......
This is such a sad incident on so many levels and I really don't know what to think or how to feel.
I do know that knife-wielding adults and children don't mix but maybe the reaction was too dramatic.
We want to protect our children at all costs and this is base instinct. Where do we draw the line on mental illness and its acceptable faces?
I was saddened by a recent email to the Principal suggesting closure of the facility and a practical exclusion zone. Yet again we are thinking of removing the so-called cause not symptoms. We live in times when spin and hype lead to a climate of fear. We fear what we do not understand. We live in the shadow of Dunblane and Columbine, amongst others. There is constant uncertainty about who is near our children and what security measures are in place should a situation arise.
Mental illness has many sides, including depression, and is often misunderstood. Would we be so quick to protest if this were a facility for adults with Down’s syndrome? I have heard this described as a mental illness too. This population is often forgotten by the system and neglected or ridiculed by the masses. Gone are the days when people were just seen as simple. Many resort to crime as they have no other choice.
In a previous life I was a case officer for Sexually Violent Predators and Paedophiles- not the nicest group of people- but still ones who needed help and very delicate and orchestrated integration back into society. They were aware of their limitations and the restrictions enforced by parole. It was an emotional tightrope. As I am a parent now I am not sure if I could do the job but at the time I believed I was helping people re-integrate into society. I believe that this organization believed they were helping people too.
Integration into society with mental illness in its various forms is a very difficult subject to broach. On the one hand we see ourselves as a compassionate society which can forgive and ensure that everyone gets a chance. On the other we are primal and will stop at nothing to protect our children, as we should, and all other values are forgotten; it is mob rule when it suits us.
This is an emotive issue with far-reaching ramifications.
I am not advocating that all manner of facilities be near schools but just because our children are safe does not mean that others are not at risk but would like some compassion. Yes we need to protect our children but do we not owe a little to those we could help? These facilities still need to go somewhere but putting them in peripheral locations only seeks to alienate the residents. I am over-simplifying this whole issue.
It is the diversity in society that makes us better understand ourselves and others but to what extent do we feel threatened by this self same diversity?
I am sure I am not addressing all the issues or phrasing this as wonderfully as I could but I wonder if it were my child who needed a facility ……
I am so confused. I just know that this all about balance.
As a note: the facility closed and the remaining residents are currently with their families.
My daughter's elementary school is near a halfway house for mentally ill adults. When she started school we had no idea that the facility was there. In my mind this is testament to how well the house was being run. Residents were accepted into society and were integrated.
The organization has been in operation for almost 40 years and until now there had been no serious incidents.
On Tuesday one of the residents was out and, I am summarizing so bear with me, was stopped by the police. He brandished a knife and threatened the police, who used a tazer; this had minimal effect. Said resident refused to back down and police opened fire, fatally wounding the man.
The school was on temporary lock down and it is doubtful that the children had any idea of what happened. The counselor was available to talk. I know my daughter does not have the slightest inkling. Had the incident taken place 30-45 minutes later in the day when the children were on lunch break I shudder to think......
This is such a sad incident on so many levels and I really don't know what to think or how to feel.
I do know that knife-wielding adults and children don't mix but maybe the reaction was too dramatic.
We want to protect our children at all costs and this is base instinct. Where do we draw the line on mental illness and its acceptable faces?
I was saddened by a recent email to the Principal suggesting closure of the facility and a practical exclusion zone. Yet again we are thinking of removing the so-called cause not symptoms. We live in times when spin and hype lead to a climate of fear. We fear what we do not understand. We live in the shadow of Dunblane and Columbine, amongst others. There is constant uncertainty about who is near our children and what security measures are in place should a situation arise.
Mental illness has many sides, including depression, and is often misunderstood. Would we be so quick to protest if this were a facility for adults with Down’s syndrome? I have heard this described as a mental illness too. This population is often forgotten by the system and neglected or ridiculed by the masses. Gone are the days when people were just seen as simple. Many resort to crime as they have no other choice.
In a previous life I was a case officer for Sexually Violent Predators and Paedophiles- not the nicest group of people- but still ones who needed help and very delicate and orchestrated integration back into society. They were aware of their limitations and the restrictions enforced by parole. It was an emotional tightrope. As I am a parent now I am not sure if I could do the job but at the time I believed I was helping people re-integrate into society. I believe that this organization believed they were helping people too.
Integration into society with mental illness in its various forms is a very difficult subject to broach. On the one hand we see ourselves as a compassionate society which can forgive and ensure that everyone gets a chance. On the other we are primal and will stop at nothing to protect our children, as we should, and all other values are forgotten; it is mob rule when it suits us.
This is an emotive issue with far-reaching ramifications.
I am not advocating that all manner of facilities be near schools but just because our children are safe does not mean that others are not at risk but would like some compassion. Yes we need to protect our children but do we not owe a little to those we could help? These facilities still need to go somewhere but putting them in peripheral locations only seeks to alienate the residents. I am over-simplifying this whole issue.
It is the diversity in society that makes us better understand ourselves and others but to what extent do we feel threatened by this self same diversity?
I am sure I am not addressing all the issues or phrasing this as wonderfully as I could but I wonder if it were my child who needed a facility ……
I am so confused. I just know that this all about balance.
As a note: the facility closed and the remaining residents are currently with their families.
Addendum to Hermit
... I realised that I don't wish to escape from the world, just my children.
Sometimes I don't wish to have another demand made of me; so I hide.
Sometimes I don't wish to have another demand made of me; so I hide.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Having children has brought out the worst in me
.. or 5 personality traits I would prefer to hide. These sides of my nature need to be buried once more and only exhumed when I need to laugh and not exert my will.
1. My Inner Screaming Banshee
.......or not so inner anymore. I have become a fishwife and shout when it really doesn't make any difference but psychologically it helps, or so I believe. I have tried the breathe and count to 10 thing but it doesn't help. There are times when shouting seems like the only option but maybe I need to think more carefully first.
2. My Inner Drama Queen
I have always had a penchant for the dramatic but having children has really shown my acting abilities are still amateurish. I utter such statements/ questions, as:
"I do not understand why people think reproduction is a good idea."
"I have had enough of children."
"I want to be an adult"
This last one is particularly worrying as it so blatantly childish. It is a cry for help. Staying at home with the girls is the most challenging job I have ever had and probably ever likely to hold. I will never get an Oscar for my performances so I best leave acting to talents that warrant the accolade.
3. My Inner Control Freak
"There are 2 ways of doing things", as my paternal Grandmother said, "mine and the wrong." It has happened it my household that I make most of the rules and am a firm believer of limits for children but sometimes I can be draconian in my measures.
"Because I said so" is without doubt the most useless of reasons but still gets used with alarming regularity. I know that with young children you are the voice of authority and lengthy explanations are not necessary as abstract thoughts are still anomalous but I may need to fine-tune my reasons pretty soon.
4. My Inner Fashionista
I have a limited sense of style and this is freely admitted. Black and denim seem to the extent of my knowledge but when my daughter mixes colours, shades and fabrics that make psychedelia look muted why do I not thank her for getting dressed and expressing her own style rather than reacting less positively ? Next time I will embrace her choices and be glad of one less battle.
5.My Inner Hermit
Some would say this was not a bad trait to wish to hide from the world but it runs contrary to being a musician and performing. I think raising children brings these contradictions to the fore.
I know that we change once we have them but can never really quantify how. We just know we are tired and never really get to spend time in ways that was common place before the advent of the little people.
What to do? Laugh, I suppose and ridicule myself. I am human and therefore fallible. I am also in need of coffee.
1. My Inner Screaming Banshee
.......or not so inner anymore. I have become a fishwife and shout when it really doesn't make any difference but psychologically it helps, or so I believe. I have tried the breathe and count to 10 thing but it doesn't help. There are times when shouting seems like the only option but maybe I need to think more carefully first.
2. My Inner Drama Queen
I have always had a penchant for the dramatic but having children has really shown my acting abilities are still amateurish. I utter such statements/ questions, as:
"I do not understand why people think reproduction is a good idea."
"I have had enough of children."
"I want to be an adult"
This last one is particularly worrying as it so blatantly childish. It is a cry for help. Staying at home with the girls is the most challenging job I have ever had and probably ever likely to hold. I will never get an Oscar for my performances so I best leave acting to talents that warrant the accolade.
3. My Inner Control Freak
"There are 2 ways of doing things", as my paternal Grandmother said, "mine and the wrong." It has happened it my household that I make most of the rules and am a firm believer of limits for children but sometimes I can be draconian in my measures.
"Because I said so" is without doubt the most useless of reasons but still gets used with alarming regularity. I know that with young children you are the voice of authority and lengthy explanations are not necessary as abstract thoughts are still anomalous but I may need to fine-tune my reasons pretty soon.
4. My Inner Fashionista
I have a limited sense of style and this is freely admitted. Black and denim seem to the extent of my knowledge but when my daughter mixes colours, shades and fabrics that make psychedelia look muted why do I not thank her for getting dressed and expressing her own style rather than reacting less positively ? Next time I will embrace her choices and be glad of one less battle.
5.My Inner Hermit
Some would say this was not a bad trait to wish to hide from the world but it runs contrary to being a musician and performing. I think raising children brings these contradictions to the fore.
I know that we change once we have them but can never really quantify how. We just know we are tired and never really get to spend time in ways that was common place before the advent of the little people.
What to do? Laugh, I suppose and ridicule myself. I am human and therefore fallible. I am also in need of coffee.
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