Here at Sassafras House, we celebrated the end of 2007 by putting Mama's new square baking dish to work to make chocolate fudge pudding cake. I wanted a square baking dish pretty much for this cake alone. The recipe is from Cooks' Country and it's a no-fail warm and tasty treat on a cold evening. Guaranteed comfort food (now served in my lovely warm red dish).
1 cup sugar
½ cup Dutch-processed cocoa powder
1 cup all purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ cup milk
4 tablespoons butter, melted (I use salted butter......if you use unsalted, add ¼ teaspoon salt)
1 large egg yolk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
½ cup chocolate chips
1 cup boiling water
Place your oven rack in the middle of the oven and then preheat to 350 degrees. Spray an 8 inch square baking pan with non-stick spray. Whisk ½ cup sugar with ¼ cup cocoa powder in a small bowl.
Whisk flour, remaining ½ cup sugar, remaining ¼ cup cocoa, baking powder, and salt in a large bowl. Whisk milk, butter, egg yolk, and vanilla in a medium bowl until smooth. Stir the milk mixture into flour mixture until just combined. Fold in chocolate chips (the batter will be stiff).
Using a rubber spatula, scrape the batter into the prepared pan and spread into corners. Sprinkle the reserved cocoa mixture evenly over the top of the batter. Gently pour boiling water over the cocoa layer. Do not stir.
Bake for 25 minutes. When the cakes come out of the oven it will look cracked and there will be sauce bubbling. Cool on a rack for about 10 minutes. To serve, scoop the warm cake into individual bowls. Top it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and your little boy will give you a hug.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Set Addiction
Last Christmas, I first learned how to play Set, a card game that I highly recommend.
I've been a junkie ever since, playing the on-line puzzle every day and recording my score when it was particularly awesome. When my score suggests that I am painfully stupid......well a girl has to have a few secrets.
Santa left JT the Set card game in his Christmas stocking, but we all knew what would happen with the game. I've made JT play me every day since Christmas. And, as JT sighed this morning and agreed to play yet another game with his Mama, he announced, "You're addicted to Set."
The first step in getting help is admitting that you have a problem.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Best Laid Plans
The weekend of December 15, when I should have been grading papers, I instead made Christmas and New Year's cards for various friends and family. By the end of the weekend, my cards were ready to place in the mail. To save time and avoid waiting in line, I went on-line and ordered stamps from the U.S. Postal Service. It was December 18 and I figured that the stamps would arrive in time for me to mail off my cards by the 24th at the latest.
Thus commenced my daily anxious checking of the mailbox. As my cards gathered (figurative) dust, the mailbox was empty. Finally, the stamps were delivered.
TODAY.
So the cards were stamped tonight and then JT and I took an evening walk to the mailbox down the block. If you've been waiting for a greeting from Sassafras House, be assured that the cards are on their way to points south, north, and east. And, if the post office is true to form, they should be there in mid-January.
Thus commenced my daily anxious checking of the mailbox. As my cards gathered (figurative) dust, the mailbox was empty. Finally, the stamps were delivered.
TODAY.
So the cards were stamped tonight and then JT and I took an evening walk to the mailbox down the block. If you've been waiting for a greeting from Sassafras House, be assured that the cards are on their way to points south, north, and east. And, if the post office is true to form, they should be there in mid-January.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Big Daddy Revealed
JT has a lovely wooden advent calendar that provides a daily pre-Christmas treat. On Christmas Eve the treat was to open a Christmas package early. It was quite clear to both of us which package would be selected that day......the big daddy, the package sent his way by his California cousins (whom, I believe, had a whole lot of help via JT's Auntie KO).
He was very excited as he prepared to tear into the paper.
It was a Playmobil Roman ship.
Mama put it together straight away.
And they sailed off into the sunset to conquer foreign peoples. Don't worry: the boy is a benevolent ruler.
He was very excited as he prepared to tear into the paper.
It was a Playmobil Roman ship.
Mama put it together straight away.
And they sailed off into the sunset to conquer foreign peoples. Don't worry: the boy is a benevolent ruler.
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Christmas Day 2007
Going to bed on Christmas Eve is a tricky business when you are 7 years old. You want to sleep, of course, because only then will Santa come. But sleeping is counter-intuitive when you are simply quivering with excitement about Christmas morning, which is finally within reach.
In my mind, Christmas morning is the best day of the year to be a parent; watching JT's face as he sees what Santa has left for him is simply a glorious pleasure. For me, playing Santa and selecting the things that I know will most thrill my boy then setting them up to await his morning excitement makes the hard part of parenting worth while. JT's excitement filled the house.
After we opened the presents under the tree, we had a quiet afternoon (Mama even enjoyed a brief nap!) while JT played with his new buddies.
We wrapped the day up with a lovely Christmas supper shared with some very good friends.
It was a good day.
In my mind, Christmas morning is the best day of the year to be a parent; watching JT's face as he sees what Santa has left for him is simply a glorious pleasure. For me, playing Santa and selecting the things that I know will most thrill my boy then setting them up to await his morning excitement makes the hard part of parenting worth while. JT's excitement filled the house.
After we opened the presents under the tree, we had a quiet afternoon (Mama even enjoyed a brief nap!) while JT played with his new buddies.
We wrapped the day up with a lovely Christmas supper shared with some very good friends.
It was a good day.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Santa: Outsourcing
My son is 7 years old and he is in the 2nd grade. It's a nice age because he retains the charm of childhood even as he begins to develop reasoning skills. For this reason, Santa Claus is a complicated figure. JT very much wants to believe and I think that he still does believe. But he asks pointed questions: how is it that Mama promises to wake up if a bad guy comes in the house and yet she sleeps soundly through the night on Christmas Eve? The world is a big, big place: how does Santa get to every house on Christmas Eve?
This year's suspicion centered on just where it is that Santa gets his goodies. In our sometimes cold corner of the world, Santa frequently delivers the gift of fleece. Last year Santa brought a fleece vest. This year Santa left new fleece mittens and a new fleece hat in JT's stocking. Like many of the clothes worn in our house, all of the fleece items came from Lands' End.
"Oh," JT announced as he emptied his stocking, "Santa gets things from Lands End, just like you do. Mama , why don't the elves make these things for Santa?."
Obviously, this query called for a quick response. So I went with the obvious as I explained, "Santa has lots of things to make for people so he asks for help. And the nice people at Lands' End make good warm things like jackets and mittens so Santa must have asked them to make mittens and a hat for you."
He seemed satisfied with this explanation, but I think that I just accused Santa of outsourcing.
This year's suspicion centered on just where it is that Santa gets his goodies. In our sometimes cold corner of the world, Santa frequently delivers the gift of fleece. Last year Santa brought a fleece vest. This year Santa left new fleece mittens and a new fleece hat in JT's stocking. Like many of the clothes worn in our house, all of the fleece items came from Lands' End.
"Oh," JT announced as he emptied his stocking, "Santa gets things from Lands End, just like you do. Mama , why don't the elves make these things for Santa?."
Obviously, this query called for a quick response. So I went with the obvious as I explained, "Santa has lots of things to make for people so he asks for help. And the nice people at Lands' End make good warm things like jackets and mittens so Santa must have asked them to make mittens and a hat for you."
He seemed satisfied with this explanation, but I think that I just accused Santa of outsourcing.
My Christmas Stocking
My ex-partner and I always filled a stocking for one another on Christmas Eve, playing Santa for one another and then playing Santa together for JT. Filling her stocking was one of my greatest Christmas pleasures; I would search high and low for the perfect items for her. As Christmas approached last year, and I was playing Santa alone for the first time, I suddenly realized that there was no one to fill my stocking. And, as excited as he would be on Christmas morning, I realized that JT would notice if Santa didn't leave me a stocking.
So I set about collecting items to fill my own Christmas stocking. It was a sad and lonely business. It brought me little joy.......honestly, I felt pathetic. But JT noticed that Santa had included me, and he looked through the treats in my stocking (sad for me that no toys were involved). I was glad that I had looked after the detail.
This year, I was absolutely determined to enjoy the process of filling my own Christmas stocking. Key to that was acquiring things well in advance of the holiday, tucking them into a secretive corner, and then promptly forgetting about the tiny treats I had bought myself. The Etsy artisan website was key to this process. And I'm pleased to say that it was a great success. When I filled my stocking tonight, I succeeded in making myself actually excited to explore the treats tomorrow morning.
And I wonder if this is an appropriate metaphor for the larger questions in my life. But tomorrow is Christmas, a day for childhood joy and wonder, and so I will leave those questions for another day.
So I set about collecting items to fill my own Christmas stocking. It was a sad and lonely business. It brought me little joy.......honestly, I felt pathetic. But JT noticed that Santa had included me, and he looked through the treats in my stocking (sad for me that no toys were involved). I was glad that I had looked after the detail.
This year, I was absolutely determined to enjoy the process of filling my own Christmas stocking. Key to that was acquiring things well in advance of the holiday, tucking them into a secretive corner, and then promptly forgetting about the tiny treats I had bought myself. The Etsy artisan website was key to this process. And I'm pleased to say that it was a great success. When I filled my stocking tonight, I succeeded in making myself actually excited to explore the treats tomorrow morning.
And I wonder if this is an appropriate metaphor for the larger questions in my life. But tomorrow is Christmas, a day for childhood joy and wonder, and so I will leave those questions for another day.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Creature Comforts
Last year, in the fall, when JT and I both tried to manage the open wound of our freshly broken family, we picked out two kittens to join our family. I thought that caring for other beings would help to heal our hearts. And the kittens – Tiger and his sister Lucy – were a great success.
Though they sometimes try our patience, they have mostly been a wonderful addition to our lives. They make us laugh, they are good for a cuddle on a cold evening. When they join us for stories each night, we cuddle up together in JT's flannel nest. They nap quietly in a cozy sunny spot, and it seems like they have always been here. In so many ways, they help to make our house feel like a home.
They greet us at the door when we come home from school, happy to see us at the end of the day. They sometimes join JT in his playroom, curling up for a nap in the sleeping bag. On the cold winter days, Tiger and Lucy sit on the radiator in the dining room, looking outside the window and keeping me company as I write and grade papers.
Whether curled up on an afghan, or stretched out in a patch of sunlight, they warm our lives in so many ways. When JT is away for the evening and my house feels terribly quiet, they are my comforting creatures.
Though they sometimes try our patience, they have mostly been a wonderful addition to our lives. They make us laugh, they are good for a cuddle on a cold evening. When they join us for stories each night, we cuddle up together in JT's flannel nest. They nap quietly in a cozy sunny spot, and it seems like they have always been here. In so many ways, they help to make our house feel like a home.
They greet us at the door when we come home from school, happy to see us at the end of the day. They sometimes join JT in his playroom, curling up for a nap in the sleeping bag. On the cold winter days, Tiger and Lucy sit on the radiator in the dining room, looking outside the window and keeping me company as I write and grade papers.
Whether curled up on an afghan, or stretched out in a patch of sunlight, they warm our lives in so many ways. When JT is away for the evening and my house feels terribly quiet, they are my comforting creatures.
Friday, December 21, 2007
The Big Daddy, part II
JT's affection for the big daddy package has continued unabated. Everyday, he suggests that we open before Christmas morning. I ignore this request, of course, and then suggest that I actually know what is inside the big daddy box. Naturally, my goal here is to horrify JT. And I am proud to note that I have been quite successful. The suggestions which engender the most boy distaste:
- Barbie dream house
- Dora the Explorer play set
- nothing
- lots and lots of My Little Pony toys (hey, that pony is little)
- Strawberry Shortcake (it got him to sniff the box)
It would seem that Mama still has a little game in her.
- Barbie dream house
- Dora the Explorer play set
- nothing
- lots and lots of My Little Pony toys (hey, that pony is little)
- Strawberry Shortcake (it got him to sniff the box)
It would seem that Mama still has a little game in her.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Christmas Vacation!
The holiday break started yesterday afternoon at 3:05 when school let out. The first thing I did when I got home was turn off the alarm on my alarm clock. No more 5:45 am wake-ups for me (well, at least for two weeks).
Then I had a nap.
Today, the boy and I enjoyed a luxurious 9 am sleep in. And then I played Monopoly Junior with this shiftless ne'er do well.
He beat me twice.
But it's a few minutes after 12 pm and we are both of us still in our pajamas. So you'll hear no complaints from me.
Then I had a nap.
Today, the boy and I enjoyed a luxurious 9 am sleep in. And then I played Monopoly Junior with this shiftless ne'er do well.
He beat me twice.
But it's a few minutes after 12 pm and we are both of us still in our pajamas. So you'll hear no complaints from me.
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
What Santa and George W. Bush Have in Common
It is a reality of life with a 7 year old that, more than most people, we discuss body functions. Just saying the word 'fart" sends a 7 year old into paroxysms of laughter. Saying it repeatedly is even better.
But I was startled to be informed by the boy that neither Santa nor the president farts. He was washing up in the shower, with a head full of suds, when the announcement was made. When I countered that all animals fart, JT denied such a slanderous claim. The subject was not open for debate and so we moved on to a more dubious discussion: how do Santa's reindeer poop when they are flying from the North Pole?
I expect that the resident expert will soon formulate an explanation for this most pressing issue.
But I was startled to be informed by the boy that neither Santa nor the president farts. He was washing up in the shower, with a head full of suds, when the announcement was made. When I countered that all animals fart, JT denied such a slanderous claim. The subject was not open for debate and so we moved on to a more dubious discussion: how do Santa's reindeer poop when they are flying from the North Pole?
I expect that the resident expert will soon formulate an explanation for this most pressing issue.
Monday, December 17, 2007
Fraught
Although there are times when I am no longer sure of anything related to the past I shared with my former partner, I still believe that we did holidays well. I know that I enjoyed all of the holiday traditions that we created and sustained. I loved sharing them with our son. And Christmas was the best of those traditions. From our yearly selection of an ornament for JT's collection to playing Santa on Christmas Eve, Christmas and the traditions we built were always a wonderful experience for me.
As I unpacked the ornaments and the lights, and all the things that make up Christmas in my home, memories flood back to me. I have memories of how we carefully filled the boxes of JT's advent calendar, memories of filling his stocking together, memories of a present I had specially selected for her. At one time, these were treasured memories that I carefully remembered. But now these memories hurt. Things that once brought me great and unmitigated joy are now fraught with a more complicated set of emotions. When I bought her that lovely, detailed elf shoe ornament that I knew she would love, was she even then plotting her removal from our family? When she took JT out of school for a few days in 2005 to bring him with her to visit her family and I was left behind, assured by her that we had a lifetime of holidays to share, was she experimenting with leaving me? When we selected three new Christmas stockings to hang in our new home, was she even then counting the minutes until I would only need two?
I feel like I was living a lie and didn't even know it. So I unpack my holiday traditions and I feel like a fool. Now I understand why holidays like Christmas are so very difficult for some people. Given the choice, I suppose I would retreat and pretend that December wasn't happening.
But I have a young son and he is enraptured by the joys of the holiday. From the sparkly lights outside to his special ornaments on the Christmas tree, he is charmed by the promise of the season. We spent hours together talking about Santa getting ready to journey the world and bring presents to good little girls and boys. He counts the days on his advent calendar and practices the Christmas songs he has learned at school. He admires the packages under the tree. He can hardly wait.
And so I move forward, participating in our old holiday traditions and building some new ones as well. A friend helped JT to make an advent calendar for me. Each day I get a treat from my son ----- a hug, or help clearing the table. It helps to build new traditions. And I also remind myself that I don't really have a choice; I must play cheerful for a little boy who believes in Santa and all things good. And I want to believe there is a little Santa in all of us. So I try.
As I unpacked the ornaments and the lights, and all the things that make up Christmas in my home, memories flood back to me. I have memories of how we carefully filled the boxes of JT's advent calendar, memories of filling his stocking together, memories of a present I had specially selected for her. At one time, these were treasured memories that I carefully remembered. But now these memories hurt. Things that once brought me great and unmitigated joy are now fraught with a more complicated set of emotions. When I bought her that lovely, detailed elf shoe ornament that I knew she would love, was she even then plotting her removal from our family? When she took JT out of school for a few days in 2005 to bring him with her to visit her family and I was left behind, assured by her that we had a lifetime of holidays to share, was she experimenting with leaving me? When we selected three new Christmas stockings to hang in our new home, was she even then counting the minutes until I would only need two?
I feel like I was living a lie and didn't even know it. So I unpack my holiday traditions and I feel like a fool. Now I understand why holidays like Christmas are so very difficult for some people. Given the choice, I suppose I would retreat and pretend that December wasn't happening.
But I have a young son and he is enraptured by the joys of the holiday. From the sparkly lights outside to his special ornaments on the Christmas tree, he is charmed by the promise of the season. We spent hours together talking about Santa getting ready to journey the world and bring presents to good little girls and boys. He counts the days on his advent calendar and practices the Christmas songs he has learned at school. He admires the packages under the tree. He can hardly wait.
And so I move forward, participating in our old holiday traditions and building some new ones as well. A friend helped JT to make an advent calendar for me. Each day I get a treat from my son ----- a hug, or help clearing the table. It helps to build new traditions. And I also remind myself that I don't really have a choice; I must play cheerful for a little boy who believes in Santa and all things good. And I want to believe there is a little Santa in all of us. So I try.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Comfort Food
Saturday, December 15, 2007
Celebration Friday
Yesterday was the 2nd grade holiday show. JT played Super Badger.........an expert on Santa Claus. It was typecasting.
The parents provided finger foods for the after-show celebration and so earlier in the week JT and I cut out and frosted sugar cookies.
He was very proud of his offerings, though I worried that the cookie-to-frosting ratio was 1:1. It's a good thing that I make a thick sugar cookie.
After the show, Santa arrived to visit the children. JT tried to adopt the sophisticated veneer of not giving a darn, but he was pleased and excited to sit on Santa's lap.
It was also the day when I brought cookies to my students. Each class arrived in my room to find a cookie tray. I like to bring an impressive celebration their way, so this year's cookie tray featured:
- crispy oatmeal cookies
- molasses cookies
- peanut butter cookies with chocolate kiss
- chocolate dipped almond shortbread cookies
- rocky road fudge
- chocolate peppermint chip
- sugar cookies
- chocolate-dipped pretzels
Nothing says "it's time to learn" like cookies. Lessons began as everyone munched on a treat.
So yesterday was a day in which the mama and teacher in me were equally satisfied. It was a good day.
The parents provided finger foods for the after-show celebration and so earlier in the week JT and I cut out and frosted sugar cookies.
He was very proud of his offerings, though I worried that the cookie-to-frosting ratio was 1:1. It's a good thing that I make a thick sugar cookie.
After the show, Santa arrived to visit the children. JT tried to adopt the sophisticated veneer of not giving a darn, but he was pleased and excited to sit on Santa's lap.
It was also the day when I brought cookies to my students. Each class arrived in my room to find a cookie tray. I like to bring an impressive celebration their way, so this year's cookie tray featured:
- crispy oatmeal cookies
- molasses cookies
- peanut butter cookies with chocolate kiss
- chocolate dipped almond shortbread cookies
- rocky road fudge
- chocolate peppermint chip
- sugar cookies
- chocolate-dipped pretzels
Nothing says "it's time to learn" like cookies. Lessons began as everyone munched on a treat.
So yesterday was a day in which the mama and teacher in me were equally satisfied. It was a good day.
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Hell of My Own Making
A few days ago, we arrived home to find a large package from California on the front porch. We brought it inside and opened it up to set the presents under the tree. One of the presents is a fetching little silver box. JT was intrigued by what he called the "fancy package."
But the tag says it's for his Mama and I recommended a hands-off policy.
"Who is it from?" he asked.
"It's from Auntie KO," I told him.
He nodded his head knowingly and announced, "she told me what it is."
"Oh yeah?" I said.
"Yes," he confirmed. "In the box are six little buttons and when you open the box, each of them will grow into a little boy just like me. They will be loud and they will jump around."
Then he delivered the piece de resistance. "They will talk all the time," my chatty boy informed me.
"Thanks for telling me," I said. "Now I won't open the box."
'You have to," he said. "For each day you wait, another little boy will appear."
The bad news delivered, JT spent the rest of the evening explaining to me that soon I'll need to make supper for seven little boys and then all seven will need washing. They will all need a bed and clean pajamas. Things are going to get pretty busy around my house.
My sister has some explaining to do.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Big Daddy
There is a large package under the tree, to the left in this picture. It's a present for JT from his California cousins. It's the biggest package under the tree and as soon as JT saw it, he christened it the "big daddy." We talk about the big daddy package nearly every day; it is clearly the most impressive present under the tree.
Today, the cats tipped over the tree. AGAIN.
But the big daddy is unharmed, so all is well.
Tuesday, December 11, 2007
Real Life Conversations with JT: New Hampshire Primary edition
The backstory: Driving home from school today, we listened to a story about New Hampshire voters on NPR. As the Santa in the town square greeted the local children, the reporter talked to different voters about the upcoming primary election. This led to the obvious question........
JT: Mama, is Santa a Democrat or a Republican?
A perfect question for the week when I've been teaching my government students that we receive our first political exposure from our families. I've used examples from my own family, which was a politically engaged atmosphere. JT's great grandma would be so proud.
And another thing is certain: clearly I brought home the right baby from the hospital.
JT: Mama, is Santa a Democrat or a Republican?
A perfect question for the week when I've been teaching my government students that we receive our first political exposure from our families. I've used examples from my own family, which was a politically engaged atmosphere. JT's great grandma would be so proud.
And another thing is certain: clearly I brought home the right baby from the hospital.
Monday, December 10, 2007
Real Life Conversations at Prep School
My 9th graders are working on projects in class and, as they worked, they were talking. Talking about dictionaries.
JM: I'm hard-core; I like a regular old dictionary.
JP: Yeah, I know that dictionary.com is okay, but I really like to look in the dictionary and read the whole entry. Then I can read about other words.
I found this conversation comforting. If the 14 year old digital natives like an old-fashioned paper dictionary, then my preference for one doesn't make me hopelessly old-fashioned. It makes me old-school cool.
Or that's what I'm going to pretend.
JM: I'm hard-core; I like a regular old dictionary.
JP: Yeah, I know that dictionary.com is okay, but I really like to look in the dictionary and read the whole entry. Then I can read about other words.
I found this conversation comforting. If the 14 year old digital natives like an old-fashioned paper dictionary, then my preference for one doesn't make me hopelessly old-fashioned. It makes me old-school cool.
Or that's what I'm going to pretend.
Sunday, December 09, 2007
The Oprah Primary
In the world of politics, time can move at a glacial pace. But in the world of political elections, time moves with amazing speed. This reality was driven home to me this weekend, as Barack Obama stormed the nation with Oprah Winfrey by his side.
Do you remember the Arsenio Hall Show? Hall was the host of an 11:30 pm late night program in the late '80s and early '90s. It aired on the then-fledgling Fox network. Hall was a young African-American man and he represented a distinct challenge to the white late-night hegemon, Johnny Carson, who had by then been hosting his Tonight show for more than a decade. David Letterman had a 12:30 am show that aired after Carson. Jay Leno was the hardest working comedian in America but didn't host his own show. Conan O'Brien wasn't on the air.
So Hall was a distinct break with tradition. His show cultivated a much younger, much hipper, more ethnically diverse audience than the Tonight Show. And in 1992, while the presidential primaries were underway, a Democratic Governor from Arkansas came on Hall's show. He wore dark sunglasses and played his saxophone. He was charming and engaging; he played a creditable sax. Hall welcomed him with open arms and the audience was charmed.
The sax player's name was Bill Clinton and by the end of the year he was the president-elect of the United States.
In the immediate aftermath of Clinton's appearance on the Hall show, the mainstream media and political elite had the equivalent of a political hissy fit. Clinton was mocked for the appearance on the Hall show. It wasn't presidential; it was informal and undignified; what political agenda could he advance by playing the sax and looking cool? What real political issues would he talk about with Hall? It simply wasn't done, this appearance on the Arsenio Hall Show.
The subtext of these criticisms was significantly more troubling: black male power in the form of Hall and his guest, a Washington outsider who was a political unknown from a white trash state, was a challenge not just to Johnny Carson and traditional television programming. It was a challenge to the political hegemony of the day. Clinton used the Arsenio Hall show to present himself as a real person. He was willing to engage with the voting public on all levels. He would discuss the issues, certainly. But he would also discuss himself in terms other Americans could easily understand: as a regular guy who was once a teenager who dreamt of playing in a rock and roll band. The mainstream media didn't understand. Clinton's '92 opponent, incumbent President George H.W. Bush, an elite's elite, certainly didn't understand it. But the voting public, especially young people, did understand. And they responded to Clinton and his new method of seeking America's vote.
Clinton's gambit on the Arsenio Hall Show was a significant paradigm shift in the business of winning the presidency. It changed everything. By 1996, presidential candidates all expected to give an interview on MTV; they went on late-night television and laughed. Al Gore and George W. Bush both spent an hour with Oprah Winfrey in 2000. In 2004, John Edwards announced his candidacy for the presidency on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, a show that is a parody of a political news program.
Much of this info-tainment politicking was devoted to introducing the candidate as a real person. They poked fun at themselves, told us their childhood dreams, and disclosed the contents of their grade-school report cards. On one memorable occasion we learned whether the candidate wore boxers or briefs. By the 2000 election, appearances on late-light television and daytime programs like Regis and Kelly and Oprah went from being wildly outrageous to being de rigeur.
And now things have come full circle: this weekend Barack Obama is campaigning with Oprah Winfrey. Oprah, who once interviewed the candidates and presented them to the nation as real people, has now endorsed a candidate. Her considerable social power has now been leashed to help Obama's campaign in the early contest states of Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina.
It would seem that the Oprah/Obama show is a success. In South Carolina, Obama was originally booked to appear with Oprah in a venue that accommodated 18,000 people. But demand for tickets was so great that Obama's folks found a new venue ------- one that would seat 30,000. Obama, campaigning as a new Democrat, is also changing the ways that candidates campaign.
Whether or not Obama wins the nomination, I suspect that we'll look back on this weekend and realize that he changed the ways that campaigns court voters.
Do you remember the Arsenio Hall Show? Hall was the host of an 11:30 pm late night program in the late '80s and early '90s. It aired on the then-fledgling Fox network. Hall was a young African-American man and he represented a distinct challenge to the white late-night hegemon, Johnny Carson, who had by then been hosting his Tonight show for more than a decade. David Letterman had a 12:30 am show that aired after Carson. Jay Leno was the hardest working comedian in America but didn't host his own show. Conan O'Brien wasn't on the air.
So Hall was a distinct break with tradition. His show cultivated a much younger, much hipper, more ethnically diverse audience than the Tonight Show. And in 1992, while the presidential primaries were underway, a Democratic Governor from Arkansas came on Hall's show. He wore dark sunglasses and played his saxophone. He was charming and engaging; he played a creditable sax. Hall welcomed him with open arms and the audience was charmed.
The sax player's name was Bill Clinton and by the end of the year he was the president-elect of the United States.
In the immediate aftermath of Clinton's appearance on the Hall show, the mainstream media and political elite had the equivalent of a political hissy fit. Clinton was mocked for the appearance on the Hall show. It wasn't presidential; it was informal and undignified; what political agenda could he advance by playing the sax and looking cool? What real political issues would he talk about with Hall? It simply wasn't done, this appearance on the Arsenio Hall Show.
The subtext of these criticisms was significantly more troubling: black male power in the form of Hall and his guest, a Washington outsider who was a political unknown from a white trash state, was a challenge not just to Johnny Carson and traditional television programming. It was a challenge to the political hegemony of the day. Clinton used the Arsenio Hall show to present himself as a real person. He was willing to engage with the voting public on all levels. He would discuss the issues, certainly. But he would also discuss himself in terms other Americans could easily understand: as a regular guy who was once a teenager who dreamt of playing in a rock and roll band. The mainstream media didn't understand. Clinton's '92 opponent, incumbent President George H.W. Bush, an elite's elite, certainly didn't understand it. But the voting public, especially young people, did understand. And they responded to Clinton and his new method of seeking America's vote.
Clinton's gambit on the Arsenio Hall Show was a significant paradigm shift in the business of winning the presidency. It changed everything. By 1996, presidential candidates all expected to give an interview on MTV; they went on late-night television and laughed. Al Gore and George W. Bush both spent an hour with Oprah Winfrey in 2000. In 2004, John Edwards announced his candidacy for the presidency on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart, a show that is a parody of a political news program.
Much of this info-tainment politicking was devoted to introducing the candidate as a real person. They poked fun at themselves, told us their childhood dreams, and disclosed the contents of their grade-school report cards. On one memorable occasion we learned whether the candidate wore boxers or briefs. By the 2000 election, appearances on late-light television and daytime programs like Regis and Kelly and Oprah went from being wildly outrageous to being de rigeur.
And now things have come full circle: this weekend Barack Obama is campaigning with Oprah Winfrey. Oprah, who once interviewed the candidates and presented them to the nation as real people, has now endorsed a candidate. Her considerable social power has now been leashed to help Obama's campaign in the early contest states of Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina.
It would seem that the Oprah/Obama show is a success. In South Carolina, Obama was originally booked to appear with Oprah in a venue that accommodated 18,000 people. But demand for tickets was so great that Obama's folks found a new venue ------- one that would seat 30,000. Obama, campaigning as a new Democrat, is also changing the ways that candidates campaign.
Whether or not Obama wins the nomination, I suspect that we'll look back on this weekend and realize that he changed the ways that campaigns court voters.
Saturday, December 08, 2007
Driving Advice from JT
The other day, JT and I were headed west on Route 22, stuck behind a car that wasn't exactly keeping pace with traffic. I held my tongue because my child was in the car. But then JT took care of things and made the following observation, "I've got one word for you: acceleration."
More and more it's clear that the boy is from Jersey.
More and more it's clear that the boy is from Jersey.
Thursday, December 06, 2007
30 lbs of Stapler Power
Sometimes, when I require a little extra motivation to get out of the flannel sheets in my nest and go to work in the morning, I think of the stapler in my classroom. I feel pretty strongly about it.....it's mine. It has some sort of innovative spring that enables me to have 30 lbs of stapler pressure at just the touch of a finger. I can staple whatever I damn well please.
That kind of power is just intoxicating.
But the other day my stapler went missing. It had been seen in first period but was MIA when I needed it during 2nd period. My two day investigation revealed a few suspects but I wasn't able to apprehend the perp. So a new stapler has been procured..........and liberally identified as belonging to room 211. Let's hope this one sticks around because a cold wind is blowing and I can already hear those flannel sheets calling me to sleep in tomorrow.
Wednesday, December 05, 2007
NaBloPoMo
Last month – November – was NaBloPoMo (National Blog Post-every-day Month) and though I was too lazy to download the icon and proclaim my participation, I posted every day of the month (you can go back and check, but, hey, why not just believe me? because it's true).
If you are a regular reader, you know that I mostly post every day anyway. That's a function of the whole reason for this blog: to motivate me to write and record my thoughts on a frequent (read: daily) basis. It's also because I like the challenge of writing every day. So I thought that NaBloPoMo would be no big deal for me. But November was a busy month and there were days when I was ready to crawl into bed only to realize that I hadn't posted. In the end, I was a tad surprised at how much of a challenge it was.
And I'm not even you, gentle reader, so I didn't have to read the drivel that I wrote every freakin' day.
Thanks for reading.
If you are a regular reader, you know that I mostly post every day anyway. That's a function of the whole reason for this blog: to motivate me to write and record my thoughts on a frequent (read: daily) basis. It's also because I like the challenge of writing every day. So I thought that NaBloPoMo would be no big deal for me. But November was a busy month and there were days when I was ready to crawl into bed only to realize that I hadn't posted. In the end, I was a tad surprised at how much of a challenge it was.
And I'm not even you, gentle reader, so I didn't have to read the drivel that I wrote every freakin' day.
Thanks for reading.
Monday, December 03, 2007
Real Life Announcements by JT
Events in my home tonight were awfully exciting. As the wind howls outside, Tiger has succeeded in biting JT's toes while the boy lies in bed preparing to rest. Tiger is victorious; JT is annoyed and announces, "Two words for you Tiger: Pet Shop."
Sunday, December 02, 2007
First Snow
Though it's early December, I awoke this morning to a blanket of white in my town. It's the first snow of the season. I love the quiet hush of snow and this was a beautiful morning, with thick white flakes gently falling on the trees outside my window as I enjoyed my morning coffee in the quiet.
This evening, after darkness had come, JT and I resumed our winter ritual: a walk through town to admire the snow. He enjoyed a snowy snack and made a few snow angels. JT asked if I went for snowy walks when I was a little girl. So I explained that we didn't have snow in California and then I told him about the time it did snow in the Bay Area when I was in the second grade. My sister and I made a tiny snowman (no more than 12 inches tall) and put him in the freezer to show our dad when he came home from work.
JT can't imagine a life without snowmen in the yard (not to mention the prospect of a snow day at school!). And I am fascinated by the idea that his childhood world is so different from my own.
This evening, after darkness had come, JT and I resumed our winter ritual: a walk through town to admire the snow. He enjoyed a snowy snack and made a few snow angels. JT asked if I went for snowy walks when I was a little girl. So I explained that we didn't have snow in California and then I told him about the time it did snow in the Bay Area when I was in the second grade. My sister and I made a tiny snowman (no more than 12 inches tall) and put him in the freezer to show our dad when he came home from work.
JT can't imagine a life without snowmen in the yard (not to mention the prospect of a snow day at school!). And I am fascinated by the idea that his childhood world is so different from my own.
Saturday, December 01, 2007
December 1
On the first of each month, I've been taking a picture of and recording my thoughts about the tree in my backyard. This month the tree looks bare.
Though we had a leisurely fall, one filled with many warm days, the cold has finally arrived to stay. In the last 10 days, my tree has lost all of its leaves, as have most of the trees in my corner of New Jersey. Suddenly, I can see all the bare branches against the twilight sky. Things feel cold and still.
Winter has arrived.
Friday, November 30, 2007
13 Weeks
Thirteen weeks ago today, as the summer drew to a close, JT broke his leg. Today, the final cast was removed. We both feel lighter tonight.
The drive to JT's doctor's office follows the path of the Raritan River in western New Jersey. When we first went to Dr. T's office, it was a drive through the green woods, thick with foliage. The air outside was still warm; warm enough for the air conditioner in the car. JT carried his leg and its new white cast gingerly, suddenly dependent on me in a way he hadn't been for the last few years. We were both learning to manage the crutches and the immobility of a broken leg. The prospect of weeks and weeks with his leg in a cast hung heavy in the humid air.
Four weeks later, autumn was starting to emerge. The weather had cooled enough to roll down the windows as we drove through the woods. The trees were still heavy with green foliage now preparing to turn. By then, JT was a whiz with his crutches, swinging himself out of the car before I could get to his side. The four-week-old white cast was showing the wear of life with a seven year old; the heel had unraveled and it had a funky smell. The cast was removed for x-rays that afternoon. The bones were healing. That Friday, we left the doctor's office with a new bright red walking cast around his leg. It was solid and heavy to protect his fragile healing bones.
Another four weeks passed and as we drove to the doctor, the trees along the river were vibrantly red, yellow, and orange. The woods were cool now, preparing for the coming cold. We both had on long sleeves and JT had exchanged his shorts for long pants. The heavy red cast had served its purpose and was – literally – ripe. It was removed for yet another set of x-rays. This time, he received an air cast. Now we could see his knee. The removable cast led to greater mobility. And, for the first time in 8 weeks, JT could bathe without the hassle of wrapping his leg in heavy blue plastic. That night, he positively luxuriated in the bathtub, soaking for nearly two hours.
Five weeks later, this afternoon we once again headed through the woods in Flemington. The trees have lost their leaves and we could see the ducks skimming along the river. The air cast has been coming off for bathing and the occasional leg stretch and he confidently removed it to show off his healing leg. The x-ray once again brought good news. The tibia has healed and it takes a careful eye to see where the breaks once were. The air cast has done its service and is no longer necessary. As JT slipped a sneaker on his foot, a foot that hasn't worn a sneaker in 13 weeks, he announced to his healed leg, "you're back in business."
There are some restrictions remaining ----- no jumping, running, or pivoting for another 4 weeks. Dr. T says this might be harder than we think ------ boys like to try out their new bones, she says. But we plan to take it easy until that final x-ray informs us that the healing really is complete.
Thirteen weeks ago, on the second night after he broke his leg, JT and I both cried ourselves to sleep. That night, as JT found the pain unbearable and I tended him alone, I felt unlucky and afraid. I was scared for my boy and frightened for us. In my first year as a single mama, I had come to depend on his independence. The cast altered that. He could no longer dress himself or get up and down the stairs. Bathing was a chore. It took two trips to get things to the car for school. I was overwhelmed. But I should have remembered what a remarkable child my son is. He took it all in stride and demonstrated a resilience and patience that I will admire for the rest of my life. Slowly, but surely, JT regained his independence and his ability to move around. We adjusted to the new demands. We even came to make jokes about the broken leg. Tonight, I realize that like the new bone growth in his leg, we two are stronger than ever.
The drive to JT's doctor's office follows the path of the Raritan River in western New Jersey. When we first went to Dr. T's office, it was a drive through the green woods, thick with foliage. The air outside was still warm; warm enough for the air conditioner in the car. JT carried his leg and its new white cast gingerly, suddenly dependent on me in a way he hadn't been for the last few years. We were both learning to manage the crutches and the immobility of a broken leg. The prospect of weeks and weeks with his leg in a cast hung heavy in the humid air.
Four weeks later, autumn was starting to emerge. The weather had cooled enough to roll down the windows as we drove through the woods. The trees were still heavy with green foliage now preparing to turn. By then, JT was a whiz with his crutches, swinging himself out of the car before I could get to his side. The four-week-old white cast was showing the wear of life with a seven year old; the heel had unraveled and it had a funky smell. The cast was removed for x-rays that afternoon. The bones were healing. That Friday, we left the doctor's office with a new bright red walking cast around his leg. It was solid and heavy to protect his fragile healing bones.
Another four weeks passed and as we drove to the doctor, the trees along the river were vibrantly red, yellow, and orange. The woods were cool now, preparing for the coming cold. We both had on long sleeves and JT had exchanged his shorts for long pants. The heavy red cast had served its purpose and was – literally – ripe. It was removed for yet another set of x-rays. This time, he received an air cast. Now we could see his knee. The removable cast led to greater mobility. And, for the first time in 8 weeks, JT could bathe without the hassle of wrapping his leg in heavy blue plastic. That night, he positively luxuriated in the bathtub, soaking for nearly two hours.
Five weeks later, this afternoon we once again headed through the woods in Flemington. The trees have lost their leaves and we could see the ducks skimming along the river. The air cast has been coming off for bathing and the occasional leg stretch and he confidently removed it to show off his healing leg. The x-ray once again brought good news. The tibia has healed and it takes a careful eye to see where the breaks once were. The air cast has done its service and is no longer necessary. As JT slipped a sneaker on his foot, a foot that hasn't worn a sneaker in 13 weeks, he announced to his healed leg, "you're back in business."
There are some restrictions remaining ----- no jumping, running, or pivoting for another 4 weeks. Dr. T says this might be harder than we think ------ boys like to try out their new bones, she says. But we plan to take it easy until that final x-ray informs us that the healing really is complete.
Thirteen weeks ago, on the second night after he broke his leg, JT and I both cried ourselves to sleep. That night, as JT found the pain unbearable and I tended him alone, I felt unlucky and afraid. I was scared for my boy and frightened for us. In my first year as a single mama, I had come to depend on his independence. The cast altered that. He could no longer dress himself or get up and down the stairs. Bathing was a chore. It took two trips to get things to the car for school. I was overwhelmed. But I should have remembered what a remarkable child my son is. He took it all in stride and demonstrated a resilience and patience that I will admire for the rest of my life. Slowly, but surely, JT regained his independence and his ability to move around. We adjusted to the new demands. We even came to make jokes about the broken leg. Tonight, I realize that like the new bone growth in his leg, we two are stronger than ever.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Did I Win?
Please see the grilled cheese update posted at the original posting.
Did I win?
I didn't just win, I grilled them.
Did I win?
I didn't just win, I grilled them.
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
Real Life Conversations at School: Dining Advice
The backstory: My 6th period class (seniors) is returning from a lunch outing. A student is being teased for having eaten all of the pizza crusts while out to lunch. He defends himself.......
T: Of course I ate the crusts. It's like Native Americans with the buffalo.......you don't waste any of the pizza.
Advice to live by.
T: Of course I ate the crusts. It's like Native Americans with the buffalo.......you don't waste any of the pizza.
Advice to live by.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Grilled Cheese Duke Out
Last week, a student in my 3rd period class suggested that he makes the best grilled cheese sandwiches ever. Never one to shirk the prospect of competition, I took issue with his claim, suggesting that in a grilled cheese contest, I would win.
And thus was born our grilled cheese showdown. Three students and I competed. When I went to work, one student announced that I cook like a mom (good to know). And just the specter of high school boys cooking made my day. Lest you worry, there was a curriculum tie-in: we voted on the best grilled cheese, using a three different ballots, to illustrate the power of choice and the framing of that choice.
But all of that is just so much academic nonsense, as far the class was concerned. Today was about the cheese.
Update: The ballots have not been counted, as I am saving that for an in-class exercise. It will likely be completed tomorrow and I will post the results. No hanging chads or voter fraud issues, just that old enemy of teachers everywhere: not enough time.
Also, seriously, how could you doubt that I would kick some booty? This is truly my sort of contest.
Update II:Update: We used three ballots to choose our grilled cheese winner. Ballot #1 asked voters to select 1 winner from 4 candidates; Ballot #2 asked voters to select 2 winners from the list of 4 candidates; and Ballot #3 asked voters to rank the candidates in order of voter preference.
I'm happy to say that I won all three ballots..........though to be fair, I've been making grilled cheese sandwiches longer than these children have been alive. I'd have no excuse if I had lost.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Real Life Conversations with JT: Lunch Box edition
The backstory: my son, god bless his little brown head, is the world's pickiest eater. Basically, his food preferences boil down to the childhood trifecta: pizza, chicken fingers, and spaghetti. It's a diet bound to cause scurvy but he doesn't care. The situation being what it is, it's hard to pack the child lunch. But I persevere because, well.......there's no one else around to handle this particular task and he and I both feel the need to pretend he eats food and doesn't just live on kitchen fumes.
Lately, his lunch box contains a bottle of water, a piece of fruit (the same piece can be recycled all week long......he'll never eat it), a fruit roll-up, yogurt, homemade boursin cheese with crackers (JT calls it white cheese), and some sort of dessert. The crackers and cheese are usually a hit and, since I make it with cream cheese, I like to believe that this means he is getting some dairy food in his diet. Things are that bad.
Today, the cheese and crackers came home uneaten. I started an investigation.
Mama: Sweetie, why didn't you eat your white cheese and crackers?
JT: The crackers looked different.
Note: The crackers were different than the ones I packed last week..........though they are a brand he has eaten for most all of his life; it's not like I was trying some sort of undercover move to get health food into his belly.
Mama: Did you try the crackers?
JT: Noooooooooooooooooooooo (said in a tone of voice which suggested that the ziploc bag may have contained crackers or might very well have had crushed glass but either way it wasn't going to pass by his lips).
I give up.
Lately, his lunch box contains a bottle of water, a piece of fruit (the same piece can be recycled all week long......he'll never eat it), a fruit roll-up, yogurt, homemade boursin cheese with crackers (JT calls it white cheese), and some sort of dessert. The crackers and cheese are usually a hit and, since I make it with cream cheese, I like to believe that this means he is getting some dairy food in his diet. Things are that bad.
Today, the cheese and crackers came home uneaten. I started an investigation.
Mama: Sweetie, why didn't you eat your white cheese and crackers?
JT: The crackers looked different.
Note: The crackers were different than the ones I packed last week..........though they are a brand he has eaten for most all of his life; it's not like I was trying some sort of undercover move to get health food into his belly.
Mama: Did you try the crackers?
JT: Noooooooooooooooooooooo (said in a tone of voice which suggested that the ziploc bag may have contained crackers or might very well have had crushed glass but either way it wasn't going to pass by his lips).
I give up.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
America in Decline
Microwave popcorn is a frequent after-school snack at Sassafras House. It's quick to make and goes well with a side of second grade homework. The other afternoon, as the popcorn popped, I had a look at the box that it came in.
As you can clearly see, the box reads "Pops up Faster." Has America been languishing for hours in front of the microwave, waiting for its freshly popped corn? Was waiting 4 minutes for microwave popcorn costing us endless hours of national productivity time? How long did America wait for a solution to this pressing national crisis?
Seriously? When we no longer can find the time to wait 4 minutes for a bag of microwave popcorn, we deserve the fate that we get. That's all I'm saying.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Misspent Youth
I spend my days in teenage America, and I enjoy their company. The teens I'm with are an admittedly elite crowd ----- prep school students ----- and I'm always surprised when I see teens misbehaving or otherwise seeming threatening, because that's not really the behavior of the teenagers with whom I'm acquainted.
But many teens do seem threatening, even for those of us who routinely look beyond the whacked out haircuts, skimpy clothes, multiple piercings and such. In fact, I often find myself asking (rhetorically, of course), "where are their parents?" I did not have a misspent youth; mostly I didn't think of mis-spending my youth because my parents had rules and expectations and I didn't want to disappoint them or the other adults in my life. Within limits, they treated me like the adult that I was becoming. Within limits, I behaved myself (we'll just go ahead and forget about those times I ditched class in the 12th grade). I cut up in college, of course, but I generally avoided big trouble. The prompt "misspent youth" from Sunday Scribblings has set me to thinking about how it is that young people successfully transition to adulthood.
Now that I am with teens all the time, I see the need that young people have to be rebellious. How else is a teen to establish a sense of sovereignty but to draw boundaries ---- both stark and small---- between the lives of her parents and her own burgeoning independence? I want to be sure that the young people I know can exercise their independence in a way that gives them freedom without courting danger (or at least not too much danger). I want them to appreciate the adults in their lives, not rebel against them just for the sake of rebelling.
For that reason, I treat my students seriously. Their hopes and dreams must be given succor, not dismissed or laughed at. The adults in my world who took me seriously ensured that I took myself seriously as I made the transition to adulthood. And now I'm doing my part to keep that cycle going, so that the teenagers in my world find that I give them the room to maneuver and express their independence. I want them to safely express their youth, and to take the risks that lead to a happy adulthood.
But many teens do seem threatening, even for those of us who routinely look beyond the whacked out haircuts, skimpy clothes, multiple piercings and such. In fact, I often find myself asking (rhetorically, of course), "where are their parents?" I did not have a misspent youth; mostly I didn't think of mis-spending my youth because my parents had rules and expectations and I didn't want to disappoint them or the other adults in my life. Within limits, they treated me like the adult that I was becoming. Within limits, I behaved myself (we'll just go ahead and forget about those times I ditched class in the 12th grade). I cut up in college, of course, but I generally avoided big trouble. The prompt "misspent youth" from Sunday Scribblings has set me to thinking about how it is that young people successfully transition to adulthood.
Now that I am with teens all the time, I see the need that young people have to be rebellious. How else is a teen to establish a sense of sovereignty but to draw boundaries ---- both stark and small---- between the lives of her parents and her own burgeoning independence? I want to be sure that the young people I know can exercise their independence in a way that gives them freedom without courting danger (or at least not too much danger). I want them to appreciate the adults in their lives, not rebel against them just for the sake of rebelling.
For that reason, I treat my students seriously. Their hopes and dreams must be given succor, not dismissed or laughed at. The adults in my world who took me seriously ensured that I took myself seriously as I made the transition to adulthood. And now I'm doing my part to keep that cycle going, so that the teenagers in my world find that I give them the room to maneuver and express their independence. I want them to safely express their youth, and to take the risks that lead to a happy adulthood.
Friday, November 23, 2007
Thanksgiving Leftovers?
The Thanksgiving holiday signals the eating season, and so I think the day calls for another recipe. This time, it's to help you with all those leftovers in your fridge.
Though my status as a citizen will surely be reviewed once I admit it, I'm not a big fan of turkey. Neither am I a big fan of wasted food. So roasting a big ole' turkey and dealing with the leftovers is just not my idea of Thanksgiving fun. This year, I avoided the whole turkey. I know what you're thinking, but no one at my house went hungry. There was ham, corn muffins and biscuits (homemade!), corn, green bean casserole, cornbread dressing, whipped sweet potatoes (don't get me started on the apostasy that is baked sweet potatoes with marshmallows), fresh cranberry sauce (no cans at my house), macaroni and cheese, cherry pie with vanilla ice cream, and potato soufflé. The soufflé is made with mashed potatoes, which might very well be sitting in the fridge at your house. Don't just heat up those leftover potatoes in the microwave (I'm talking to you, KO). Make something really yummy with them.
Potato Soufflé
(also known as Yummy Potatoes........thanks for the recipe, Mom)
2 cups of hot mashed potatoes
1 package of cream cheese, softened
1 small chopped onion
2 eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons flour
salt & pepper to taste
1 can french fried onions (6 ounce size)
Get out the mixer and whip together everything but the french fried onions. Gently mix those in and then put the whole mess into a greased baking dish. Bake for 35 minutes at 350 degrees.
Happy eating!
Update: I've just received a call from the Sassafras Sister........she's a bit bent out of shape because it would seem that the recipe for the potatoes listed above is sourced to her husband (known around here as Uncle M). So apologies to Uncle M for not giving him the credit that he is due, not just for the potato recipe but also for putting up with the Sassafras Family in the first place. Take a bow, Uncle M. You've earned it.
Though my status as a citizen will surely be reviewed once I admit it, I'm not a big fan of turkey. Neither am I a big fan of wasted food. So roasting a big ole' turkey and dealing with the leftovers is just not my idea of Thanksgiving fun. This year, I avoided the whole turkey. I know what you're thinking, but no one at my house went hungry. There was ham, corn muffins and biscuits (homemade!), corn, green bean casserole, cornbread dressing, whipped sweet potatoes (don't get me started on the apostasy that is baked sweet potatoes with marshmallows), fresh cranberry sauce (no cans at my house), macaroni and cheese, cherry pie with vanilla ice cream, and potato soufflé. The soufflé is made with mashed potatoes, which might very well be sitting in the fridge at your house. Don't just heat up those leftover potatoes in the microwave (I'm talking to you, KO). Make something really yummy with them.
Potato Soufflé
(also known as Yummy Potatoes........thanks for the recipe, Mom)
2 cups of hot mashed potatoes
1 package of cream cheese, softened
1 small chopped onion
2 eggs, beaten
2 tablespoons flour
salt & pepper to taste
1 can french fried onions (6 ounce size)
Get out the mixer and whip together everything but the french fried onions. Gently mix those in and then put the whole mess into a greased baking dish. Bake for 35 minutes at 350 degrees.
Happy eating!
Update: I've just received a call from the Sassafras Sister........she's a bit bent out of shape because it would seem that the recipe for the potatoes listed above is sourced to her husband (known around here as Uncle M). So apologies to Uncle M for not giving him the credit that he is due, not just for the potato recipe but also for putting up with the Sassafras Family in the first place. Take a bow, Uncle M. You've earned it.
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Happy Thanksgiving
In honor of the holiday, I'm posting one of the recipes that makes my family's holiday table a special place. I make two batches of corn muffins for Thanksgiving ---- one for breaking up and turning into cornbread dressing (I make that batch the night before). And the second is for eating with Thanksgiving supper.
Stacy's Corn Muffins
1 ¼ cup flour
¾ cup corn meal ----- I use yellow corn meal, but white is also fine
¼ cup plus 2 tablespoons white sugar
2 tsp baking powder
½ tsp salt
1 cup low fat milk (I use 1%; non-fat also works well)
¼ cup vegetable oil
1 egg, beaten
Heat oven to 400 degrees. Grease a muffin tin (the recipe will make 9 small muffins or 6 large muffins) or an 8 or 9-inch pan if you prefer corn bread. Combine dry ingredients in a bowl. Stir in milk, oil, and egg, mixing just until dry ingredients are moistened. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake 20 to 25 minutes, until the edges of the bread are turning slightly brown and a toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean.
Serve with plenty of butter and honey.
Happy eating and happy Thanksgiving!
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Not Quite Jersey Born, but Clearly Jersey Bred
Note to non-Jersey readers: E-Z Pass is an electronic system to pay tolls on the NJ Turnpike and other toll-roads and bridge crossings up and down the east coast. You can see an E-Z Pass in the window of many cars in New Jersey and I have one in the window of my trusty steed.
Today, JT was playing in his playroom, with his pirate ships lined up to cross under a bridge to the other side of the playroom. But there is a delay he tells me..........it would seem that one of the pirate captains does not have his E-Z Pass on board the ship.
The boy has been in New Jersey too long.
Today, JT was playing in his playroom, with his pirate ships lined up to cross under a bridge to the other side of the playroom. But there is a delay he tells me..........it would seem that one of the pirate captains does not have his E-Z Pass on board the ship.
The boy has been in New Jersey too long.
Tuesday, November 20, 2007
Old School Fun
JT and I got our Thanksgiving holiday off to a good start this evening. We watched the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. The program is just as I remembered it from my own childhood. JT was amused.........recalling that Lucy is an unreliable ball-holder, and laughing at Snoopy the dog in his go-round with the beach chair.
And I was reminded that one of the best things about being a parent is the pleasure of sharing my own childhood pleasures with my son.
And I was reminded that one of the best things about being a parent is the pleasure of sharing my own childhood pleasures with my son.
Monday, November 19, 2007
Land of Dull Buildings
Though there is plenty of beautiful architecture in Washington D.C., it's also true that sometimes the buildings miss the architectural mark and call out with a Soviet-styled elegance. Add to that the fact that some of the buildings are also engaged in some pretty dull-sounding business, and you have the makings for some smart-mouthed commentary.
Whatever goes on in the Frances Perkins Department of Labor building just can't be much fun. From the looks of it, this building has never cut loose on a Friday night. And the Bureau of Labor Statistics? A nice-looking building but .....yawn.
Anyone for the Association of Counties? What kind of Saturday night fun do the counties scare up? Not surprisingly, the National Association of Realtors, has a brand-spanking new building.........I trust they've got a fixed-rate mortgage.
And here is the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building, with JT standing in front. This building looks like the perfect place to press record and monitor the phone conversations spy of your fellow Americans. Anyone care for a heaping serving of denial of habeus corpus? Some waterboarding? This building can make that happen.
Thanks to my colleague sw, who got the ball rolling on this particular game.
Whatever goes on in the Frances Perkins Department of Labor building just can't be much fun. From the looks of it, this building has never cut loose on a Friday night. And the Bureau of Labor Statistics? A nice-looking building but .....yawn.
Anyone for the Association of Counties? What kind of Saturday night fun do the counties scare up? Not surprisingly, the National Association of Realtors, has a brand-spanking new building.........I trust they've got a fixed-rate mortgage.
And here is the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building, with JT standing in front. This building looks like the perfect place to press record and monitor the phone conversations spy of your fellow Americans. Anyone care for a heaping serving of denial of habeus corpus? Some waterboarding? This building can make that happen.
Thanks to my colleague sw, who got the ball rolling on this particular game.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Ten Random Facts About Me
A while back, I was tagged for a meme by my friend s over at http://ecrandori.blogspot.com. The deal here is that I must identify random facts about me. I'm trying for random facts that most people don't know about me and thus it's taken me a while to complete this list. So here goes:
1. I have the straightest hair on the planet (go ahead and insert your own joke here), but when the weather is humid two curls form at the nape of my neck. I've always longed for curly hair and I rather enjoy those curls.
2. Though my home is (compulsively?) neat and tidy, my desk at work is often a hellacious mess. I often try to remedy this situation, but have little success. On the other hand, I can usually locate what I need, so maybe it's no cause for concern.
3. I love corn tortillas, which I consider to the most perfect food. I would happily eat a meal of freshly fried corn tortillas (with salt.....lots of it) and avocado. It gives me no end of happiness that JT also loves corn tortillas.
4. I make excellent homemade corn muffins and biscuits. In fact, I'm prepared to throw down and assert that no one makes biscuits and corn muffins as good as mine.
5. Though I like to go shopping at malls, I mostly prefer to buy my clothes from catalogs on line. I think this is what happens when you've lived in rural Nebraska for 8 years (read: no decent shopping unless you drive 100 miles).
6. I have had a subscription to Newsweek since I was 14 years old and asked my parents to get one for me. I often wonder what my poor parents must have thought when their generally disagreeable teenage daughter announced her desire to read Newsweek. But they ponied up and then read the magazine so that I would have my own little Newsweek reader's group. Thanks mom and dad.
7. I lived in Tennessee for five years and it is the first place that I truly experienced all four seasons. I loved the Volunteer State and, given the opportunity, I'd go back there in a New York minute.
8. I like scarves, mittens, hats, and gloves.......all the accoutrements of cold weather. I'm always in search of just one more toasty item to add to my collection. I think that it's because I grew up in California, with little need for cold weather gear and so I think such things are exotic.
9. I make really tasty homemade popcorn. Hot, salty, and fresh it's just unbeatable. I learned to do it from my father, the only person whose popcorn is better than mine.
10. I almost always include a joke or two on tests, homework assignments and quizzes. It's like a tiny secret treat for my classes. One year, a student saved all the jokes and made them into a picture frame collage for me. It's one of the best teacher gifts I've ever received.
1. I have the straightest hair on the planet (go ahead and insert your own joke here), but when the weather is humid two curls form at the nape of my neck. I've always longed for curly hair and I rather enjoy those curls.
2. Though my home is (compulsively?) neat and tidy, my desk at work is often a hellacious mess. I often try to remedy this situation, but have little success. On the other hand, I can usually locate what I need, so maybe it's no cause for concern.
3. I love corn tortillas, which I consider to the most perfect food. I would happily eat a meal of freshly fried corn tortillas (with salt.....lots of it) and avocado. It gives me no end of happiness that JT also loves corn tortillas.
4. I make excellent homemade corn muffins and biscuits. In fact, I'm prepared to throw down and assert that no one makes biscuits and corn muffins as good as mine.
5. Though I like to go shopping at malls, I mostly prefer to buy my clothes from catalogs on line. I think this is what happens when you've lived in rural Nebraska for 8 years (read: no decent shopping unless you drive 100 miles).
6. I have had a subscription to Newsweek since I was 14 years old and asked my parents to get one for me. I often wonder what my poor parents must have thought when their generally disagreeable teenage daughter announced her desire to read Newsweek. But they ponied up and then read the magazine so that I would have my own little Newsweek reader's group. Thanks mom and dad.
7. I lived in Tennessee for five years and it is the first place that I truly experienced all four seasons. I loved the Volunteer State and, given the opportunity, I'd go back there in a New York minute.
8. I like scarves, mittens, hats, and gloves.......all the accoutrements of cold weather. I'm always in search of just one more toasty item to add to my collection. I think that it's because I grew up in California, with little need for cold weather gear and so I think such things are exotic.
9. I make really tasty homemade popcorn. Hot, salty, and fresh it's just unbeatable. I learned to do it from my father, the only person whose popcorn is better than mine.
10. I almost always include a joke or two on tests, homework assignments and quizzes. It's like a tiny secret treat for my classes. One year, a student saved all the jokes and made them into a picture frame collage for me. It's one of the best teacher gifts I've ever received.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
I Carry
The prompt over at Sunday Scribblings is "I carry." I've been thinking about the prompt for the whole of the day; thinking about how to write about the item that immediately came to mind when I saw the prompt.
For more years than I can remember, I've worn a necklace with a heart-shaped locket. The locket has space for two pictures. When I first began to wear the necklace, I had a picture of the Tennessee woods inside the locket. Ten years ago this fall, I put a picture of my then-partner in the locket. When JT was born, I placed a small picture of him next to her. In that tiny heart were small photos of the two people whom I loved the most. JT liked to open the locket to check for the pictures. When he was small, he would say "baby" and "mommy." It always made me smile.
18 months ago, when my ex left our home for good, I removed her picture from my locket. Though the tiny JT remained, still worn next to my heart, my boy seemed to mourn the now-empty space as much as I did. He would open the locket, look at the empty space, and then quietly snap the little heart shut. One Sunday when she came to pick him up for their weekly visit, he told her that I had taken her picture out of my locket. It was as if he wanted her to understand just what her absence meant. We three were silent for a moment and then I quietly told him, "she knows that her picture is gone from my locket."
JT still snaps open the locket to admire his chubby-cheeked baby self. But that incident last summer was the last time he mentioned that he used to share the locket space with someone else. He speaks less and less of his other mom as a steady presence in his life. Sometimes I wonder if he'll even remember that she was once a daily feature of our life. And so I carry that in my heart as well ---- an enduring sadness for what he lost when she left.
For more years than I can remember, I've worn a necklace with a heart-shaped locket. The locket has space for two pictures. When I first began to wear the necklace, I had a picture of the Tennessee woods inside the locket. Ten years ago this fall, I put a picture of my then-partner in the locket. When JT was born, I placed a small picture of him next to her. In that tiny heart were small photos of the two people whom I loved the most. JT liked to open the locket to check for the pictures. When he was small, he would say "baby" and "mommy." It always made me smile.
18 months ago, when my ex left our home for good, I removed her picture from my locket. Though the tiny JT remained, still worn next to my heart, my boy seemed to mourn the now-empty space as much as I did. He would open the locket, look at the empty space, and then quietly snap the little heart shut. One Sunday when she came to pick him up for their weekly visit, he told her that I had taken her picture out of my locket. It was as if he wanted her to understand just what her absence meant. We three were silent for a moment and then I quietly told him, "she knows that her picture is gone from my locket."
JT still snaps open the locket to admire his chubby-cheeked baby self. But that incident last summer was the last time he mentioned that he used to share the locket space with someone else. He speaks less and less of his other mom as a steady presence in his life. Sometimes I wonder if he'll even remember that she was once a daily feature of our life. And so I carry that in my heart as well ---- an enduring sadness for what he lost when she left.
Friday, November 16, 2007
Caity Spoon Hands
Thursday, November 15, 2007
Live from D.C.
A fellow teacher and I are in the nation's capitol with 31 teenagers and my 7 year old. We're here so the teenagers can compete in a Model Congress competition. We're within walking distance of the actual Congress and tonight the president was speaking at Union Station, just down the road from our hotel. Tomorrow morning, the students gathered here will hear a keynote address by Supreme Court Justice Antonin Scalia. And I have to say that though I'm no political fan of Scalia, I'm pretty excited to hear him speak to the crowd of liberal teenagers.
But back at the hotel, JT has found his new calling: Guitar Hero. Suffice it to say that the video game is instantly alluring to the boy. And all those hours spent listening to Eric Clapton in his mama's car have perfectly prepared him for his future as a rock star.
But back at the hotel, JT has found his new calling: Guitar Hero. Suffice it to say that the video game is instantly alluring to the boy. And all those hours spent listening to Eric Clapton in his mama's car have perfectly prepared him for his future as a rock star.
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Real Life Conversations in Class
Student E: Do you realize that the assignment says to look for the answers in chapter 14? Because you're reading chapter 13.
Student M: Does it matter?
Teacher Sassafras: Not if you don't care what grade you receive.
Sometimes, I just can't help myself.
Student M: Does it matter?
Teacher Sassafras: Not if you don't care what grade you receive.
Sometimes, I just can't help myself.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Nation-Building, Democracy and Pakistan
In 2000, when he was first running for the presidency then-Governor George W. Bush expressed contempt for Democrats and their willingness to intervene in other countries and engage in the business of nation-building. Under his watch, the United States would not be engaged in nation-building he famously announced.
We are reaping the rewards of that line of thinking today. In the aftermath of September 11, the Bush Administration was no longer worried about interfering in the business of other nations. In fact, when it came to the Middle East, we were actively engaged in the management of individual states. From the removal of Saddam Hussein in Iraq to our insistence on free elections in the Palestinian territories, the US has been encouraging the façade of democracy, without any real sense of what that means.
Democracy isn't the problem, of course, it's the single-minded pursuit of the trappings of democracy in places that have yet to build the foundation for such a system. So elections in the Palestinian territory created a morass of political confusion with power now marginally in the hands of the Hamas party, folks about whom we have reservations. In Iraq, elections have handed us a so-called power-sharing government that may exist on paper but does not exist in deed. The political system there is on the verge of collapse.
And in the last two weeks, Pakistan, a nation that passes for an American ally in the region, has slipped from a quasi-democracy ruled by a President who is also the head of the armed forces, into a state with the equivalent of martial law. The opposition has been temporarily shushed; President Musharaff may shut it down entirely.
All of this places the Bush Administration in a tricky position. Pakistan has been a bulwark against Al-Queda in Afghanistan, and when they haven't been as helpful as America would like, at least they haven't shut us out. They oppose the Taliban in Afghanistan and so do we. So while Musharaff has been less than democratic in the last five years, we have been silent. Now that Musharaff is no longer pretending to be democratic, the United States is in a pinch. A destabilized, nuclear Pakistan is not a good thing. Pakistan in the hands of the military is probably better than Pakistan in the hands of militants.
But it all gives lie to now-President Bush's claim that the United States stands up for democracy all over the world. And it points up the hubris of a Bush Administration swollen with foolish ideas about how we can promote democracy without engaging in the business of nation-building. Democracy is a good system, with a proved track record of generating peaceful, prosperous states. But it doesn't just appear and it isn't the effect of willpower and the brash insistence of the American president.
Note to President Bush: Wishing doesn't make it so.
We are reaping the rewards of that line of thinking today. In the aftermath of September 11, the Bush Administration was no longer worried about interfering in the business of other nations. In fact, when it came to the Middle East, we were actively engaged in the management of individual states. From the removal of Saddam Hussein in Iraq to our insistence on free elections in the Palestinian territories, the US has been encouraging the façade of democracy, without any real sense of what that means.
Democracy isn't the problem, of course, it's the single-minded pursuit of the trappings of democracy in places that have yet to build the foundation for such a system. So elections in the Palestinian territory created a morass of political confusion with power now marginally in the hands of the Hamas party, folks about whom we have reservations. In Iraq, elections have handed us a so-called power-sharing government that may exist on paper but does not exist in deed. The political system there is on the verge of collapse.
And in the last two weeks, Pakistan, a nation that passes for an American ally in the region, has slipped from a quasi-democracy ruled by a President who is also the head of the armed forces, into a state with the equivalent of martial law. The opposition has been temporarily shushed; President Musharaff may shut it down entirely.
All of this places the Bush Administration in a tricky position. Pakistan has been a bulwark against Al-Queda in Afghanistan, and when they haven't been as helpful as America would like, at least they haven't shut us out. They oppose the Taliban in Afghanistan and so do we. So while Musharaff has been less than democratic in the last five years, we have been silent. Now that Musharaff is no longer pretending to be democratic, the United States is in a pinch. A destabilized, nuclear Pakistan is not a good thing. Pakistan in the hands of the military is probably better than Pakistan in the hands of militants.
But it all gives lie to now-President Bush's claim that the United States stands up for democracy all over the world. And it points up the hubris of a Bush Administration swollen with foolish ideas about how we can promote democracy without engaging in the business of nation-building. Democracy is a good system, with a proved track record of generating peaceful, prosperous states. But it doesn't just appear and it isn't the effect of willpower and the brash insistence of the American president.
Note to President Bush: Wishing doesn't make it so.
Monday, November 12, 2007
Real Life Conversations Between JT and Tiger
The backstory: I'm running his Sunday night bath while JT strips down in his bedroom. Tiger the cat joins the festivities.
JT: Tiger?
Tiger: Meow.
JT: Tiger, have you ever heard of toothpaste? Because your breath could use some.
JT: Tiger?
Tiger: Meow.
JT: Tiger, have you ever heard of toothpaste? Because your breath could use some.
Sunday, November 11, 2007
Left, Right and In-Between
I teach American Government to high school seniors. At 17 and 18 years of age, they are on the cusp of adulthood, getting ready to attend college, and starting to envision their lives as independent beings. My course is a combination of content (we talk about the three branches of government, Constitutional rights, political behavior and more.....your standard American Government fare). We also spend a good deal of time discussing current events, for which I liberally use Newsweek, NPR, and the New York Times to guide our discussions. If it's in the news, we'll be talking about it in class.
I've been teaching this class at the college and high school level for more than 15 years, and the inclusion of current events makes the course new each year. I grew up in a politically inclined household and I still remember how excited I was to vote for the first time. I felt informed and ready to pull that lever. That's the goal I have for my students: I want them to be well-informed and thoughtful voters, excited to participate in the democratic process. To that end, I treat them that way. I take their opinions and questions seriously, and I make sure that they have the opportunity to fill in the gaps in their knowledge while they are figuring out their ideology.
But I don't train them to think like me. At the beginning of class each year I always joke that if I need to brainwash somebody, JT exists for that purpose (though those of you who are acquainted with the boy know just how unlikely that is). I tell them that my goal is to help them become a better citizen, not a clone of me. In pursuit of that goal, I address the issues like a political scientist, and we explore all sides of a topic . Then, if they ask, I tell them what I believe. Finally I remind them again that their job is to think for themselves, to follow their instincts and decide where they stand. Left, right, or in between, it doesn't matter to me what they think. But it matters very much that they think; that they take up the mantle of citizenship by asking where they stand and what they believe.
As a result, my class is a microcosm of views. There are idealist progressives, independent-minded libertarians, social conservatives and any other view you can think of. For nine months they sit in my classroom and they listen to one another, they listen to me, they ask critical questions of the world. And then they walk out into the world, better informed and ready to take up the mantle of citizenship.
I've been teaching this class at the college and high school level for more than 15 years, and the inclusion of current events makes the course new each year. I grew up in a politically inclined household and I still remember how excited I was to vote for the first time. I felt informed and ready to pull that lever. That's the goal I have for my students: I want them to be well-informed and thoughtful voters, excited to participate in the democratic process. To that end, I treat them that way. I take their opinions and questions seriously, and I make sure that they have the opportunity to fill in the gaps in their knowledge while they are figuring out their ideology.
But I don't train them to think like me. At the beginning of class each year I always joke that if I need to brainwash somebody, JT exists for that purpose (though those of you who are acquainted with the boy know just how unlikely that is). I tell them that my goal is to help them become a better citizen, not a clone of me. In pursuit of that goal, I address the issues like a political scientist, and we explore all sides of a topic . Then, if they ask, I tell them what I believe. Finally I remind them again that their job is to think for themselves, to follow their instincts and decide where they stand. Left, right, or in between, it doesn't matter to me what they think. But it matters very much that they think; that they take up the mantle of citizenship by asking where they stand and what they believe.
As a result, my class is a microcosm of views. There are idealist progressives, independent-minded libertarians, social conservatives and any other view you can think of. For nine months they sit in my classroom and they listen to one another, they listen to me, they ask critical questions of the world. And then they walk out into the world, better informed and ready to take up the mantle of citizenship.
Saturday, November 10, 2007
A Book I Love
My friend E, who is a full-fledged adult, has recently begun to read the Laura Ingalls Wilder Little House series of books for the first time. I envy her that opportunity: to read those stories for the very first time. Those books meant everything to me as a child. I read them over and over again. As an adult, I've re-read the stories. If I had to identify one set of books that influenced my life the most, it might very well be those Little House stories.
They opened up the world of American history to me. Even today, when I teach about the Homestead Act, I make reference to the experiences of the Ingalls and thousands of others who came out west after the Civil War, looking for opportunity. My first winter in Nebraska, I was able to fully appreciate the harsh beauty of the prairie landscape that Laura had written about in her stories. And I never plant my spring garden that I don't recall the stories of the Ingalls enjoying the produce of their garden, with its spring lettuce and fresh tomatoes.
The books inspired me to read as a little girl struggling to master the task; I wanted to know what would happen to Laura and her family. As an adult, I've always appreciated the lessons I first learned from those beautifully written stories. I think that JT and I will pick up The Little House in the Big Woods when we finish our current book. I bet he'll love them as much as I do.
They opened up the world of American history to me. Even today, when I teach about the Homestead Act, I make reference to the experiences of the Ingalls and thousands of others who came out west after the Civil War, looking for opportunity. My first winter in Nebraska, I was able to fully appreciate the harsh beauty of the prairie landscape that Laura had written about in her stories. And I never plant my spring garden that I don't recall the stories of the Ingalls enjoying the produce of their garden, with its spring lettuce and fresh tomatoes.
The books inspired me to read as a little girl struggling to master the task; I wanted to know what would happen to Laura and her family. As an adult, I've always appreciated the lessons I first learned from those beautifully written stories. I think that JT and I will pick up The Little House in the Big Woods when we finish our current book. I bet he'll love them as much as I do.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Real Life Conversations with JT: Elderly Edition
The backstory: Its' the morning after my 40th birthday. JT and I are driving to school and he has some advice for me as I start my 41st year of life.
JT: You're 40 now. You'll probably need a cane and some help walking around.
Mama: Really? You think it's that serious?
JT: Oh yeah. And now that you're elderly, you probably should give up working every day.
Because staying at home with that child of mine would be less taxing than a day spent with teenagers?
JT: You're 40 now. You'll probably need a cane and some help walking around.
Mama: Really? You think it's that serious?
JT: Oh yeah. And now that you're elderly, you probably should give up working every day.
Because staying at home with that child of mine would be less taxing than a day spent with teenagers?
Thursday, November 08, 2007
In the Drink
I don't have photos ------ and I can't tell you how bummed I am about that ----- but earlier tonight Lucy the cat was on the edge of the bathtub, supervising our boy as he washed and created a deadly whirlpool for his old-school bath-time friend Elmo. JT and I discussed whether it was safe for Lucy to be on the edge of the tub, but she didn't care what we advised.
Naturally, she fell right in the bubble-filled tub. There was an exciting moment or two in the tub before she clawed her way out and then went yowling down the stairs, completely indignant at her swim.
Tiger, JT and mama laughed. Lucy is still not amused and won't make eye contact with me.
Naturally, she fell right in the bubble-filled tub. There was an exciting moment or two in the tub before she clawed her way out and then went yowling down the stairs, completely indignant at her swim.
Tiger, JT and mama laughed. Lucy is still not amused and won't make eye contact with me.
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
Vocabulary Lessons with JT
JT has recently discovered that if he uses big words, it will make adults laugh. Always one to exploit such a situation, he uses every opportunity to demonstrate his impressive vocabulary. Often, he has just a little bit of knowledge about the word he's employing; just enough to make its use funny. On other occasions, he amends a word he knows to make it more helpful in the expression of his thoughts.
Thus, the other day he told me today that the fun-sized Butterfinger candy bar I ate after he took a bite and rejected it was "unsanitary."
But that was nothing compared to his characterization of some of the candy in his Halloween bin as "un-useless." Meaning, I believe, that he's planning to consume that candy and I needn't worry about his unsanitary leftovers.
Thus, the other day he told me today that the fun-sized Butterfinger candy bar I ate after he took a bite and rejected it was "unsanitary."
But that was nothing compared to his characterization of some of the candy in his Halloween bin as "un-useless." Meaning, I believe, that he's planning to consume that candy and I needn't worry about his unsanitary leftovers.
Tuesday, November 06, 2007
Gratitude
Today is my 40th birthday. I've generally been the optimistic sort and part of the challenge of the last year and a half of my life has been recovering from the loss of my optimism. I think that things are better. At this point, I'm still hopeful that I can regain my former sense that I lead a charmed life. Charmed or not, I know that I have been blessed. So today, as I turn 40, it seems like a good time to make a list of a few of the things that I am grateful to have in my life. I'll pick four things, one for every decade I've been around.
I am grateful for my son. He makes me laugh and shows me every day what it means to love without caution or reservation. In just 7 years and more often then he can possibly know, he has made me feel strong. His absolute faith in me gives me faith in myself. He has shown me the power of hope and joy. For years, I dreamt about being a parent. Never in my wildest imagination did I understand how wonderful it would be. I feel incredibly lucky to have him.
I have been blessed by wonderful friends and a terrific family (yes, I'm talking to all of you). These are the sort of people who will laugh and cry with me; people who will come to my rescue and remind me to be strong.; people who believe in me even when I've lost faith in myself. When you live miles away from your family, it's a scary thing to wake up as a single parent. But distance has meant nothing to my family, who has rescued me time and time again. And my friends both near and far have pitched in to be a second family for JT and me. It's a support system of enviable power and I am so grateful for it.
I am grateful to have a job that I love in a place that feels like home. My colleagues and my students are an amazing group of people. I feel very lucky to be here with my son in this school (that's 3rd period with the surprise birthday cake they brought to class today).
Finally, I am grateful for my house. It's a lovely house filled with things that I love. I think that it has the vibe of a happy home. From the moment I stood on the front porch, I wanted it to live in this house. It's my home and my center in every sense and from the messy playroom to the heap of laundry in the basement, I love it.
When I look at this list, I feel profoundly lucky. And that's a very happy thing to feel.
I am grateful for my son. He makes me laugh and shows me every day what it means to love without caution or reservation. In just 7 years and more often then he can possibly know, he has made me feel strong. His absolute faith in me gives me faith in myself. He has shown me the power of hope and joy. For years, I dreamt about being a parent. Never in my wildest imagination did I understand how wonderful it would be. I feel incredibly lucky to have him.
I have been blessed by wonderful friends and a terrific family (yes, I'm talking to all of you). These are the sort of people who will laugh and cry with me; people who will come to my rescue and remind me to be strong.; people who believe in me even when I've lost faith in myself. When you live miles away from your family, it's a scary thing to wake up as a single parent. But distance has meant nothing to my family, who has rescued me time and time again. And my friends both near and far have pitched in to be a second family for JT and me. It's a support system of enviable power and I am so grateful for it.
I am grateful to have a job that I love in a place that feels like home. My colleagues and my students are an amazing group of people. I feel very lucky to be here with my son in this school (that's 3rd period with the surprise birthday cake they brought to class today).
Finally, I am grateful for my house. It's a lovely house filled with things that I love. I think that it has the vibe of a happy home. From the moment I stood on the front porch, I wanted it to live in this house. It's my home and my center in every sense and from the messy playroom to the heap of laundry in the basement, I love it.
When I look at this list, I feel profoundly lucky. And that's a very happy thing to feel.
Monday, November 05, 2007
In Which Last Night's Insomnia Proves a Problem
I didn't sleep much last night and generally that's no way to begin the week. Today it proved a particular challenge while I was teaching ancient Chinese history to my freshman in the morning. I was explaining that peasants built earthen dikes around the Huang He River to protect their crops from periodic floods.
And I write dike on the board.
And (you can see this coming, can't you?) yes, I spell it dyke.
Nice.
I quickly fix the spelling error and make my standard joke: I need spellcheck for the chalkboard. The class doesn't seem to notice, though I fear they were just being kind.
Several hours later, I'm still embarrassed.
And I write dike on the board.
And (you can see this coming, can't you?) yes, I spell it dyke.
Nice.
I quickly fix the spelling error and make my standard joke: I need spellcheck for the chalkboard. The class doesn't seem to notice, though I fear they were just being kind.
Several hours later, I'm still embarrassed.
Sunday, November 04, 2007
Real Life Conversations with JT
The backstory: A friend and I are off to the grocery store on Saturday afternoon, JT in tow. JT would prefer to be at home, playing, but that option was rejected. The drive over to Wegmans convinces me that it may be a less than relaxing shopping expedition. So in the parking lot I decide to make my behavioral expectations clear up front.
Mama: I hope that you're going to behave yourself when we're in the store.
JT (in exhausted, sighing tone, as if this is a situation well beyond his control): Me too.
Naturally, the grown ups in the car burst into laughter. And at least I could consider myself warned as we headed into the store.
Mama: I hope that you're going to behave yourself when we're in the store.
JT (in exhausted, sighing tone, as if this is a situation well beyond his control): Me too.
Naturally, the grown ups in the car burst into laughter. And at least I could consider myself warned as we headed into the store.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
"Collecting for Unicyle"
Growing up in California, the idea of the Unicef box for Halloween was an exotic east coast thing, featured in Judy Blume books, but never part of my world. So when I moved to New Jersey and saw the boxes on Halloween, I was delighted.
In the past few years, JT and I have undertaken projects to make him aware of the fact that not all children live in prosperity and plenty. We collect clothes to donate to the school clothing drive, we packed a backpack for kids displaced by Katrina, we donate a new toy to the toys-for-tots drive. I want him to be aware of an obligation to help make the world a better place.
These lessons made this year a perfect opportunity for JT to carry a Unicef box on Halloween. And he was eager participant, glad to help out. He was particularly inspired by the graphics on the box which noted that 6 cents would provide water for a thirsty kid and a $1 would immunize a kid against measles. He wanted to do his part.
Talkative as he usually his, JT has often been a reticent trick-or-treater. He's there for the candy, thank you, and conversation is optional. But when he and his buddy D went out with their Unicef boxes on Halloween, it seemed to unleash his rhetorical and fund-raising talents, and he would work it at the door, raising up the box and saying, "collecting for Unicycle." Happily, people understood what he meant, though it amused T and me, waiting back on the street. We wondered if "Unicycle" was a lesser-known charity for retired or down-on-their luck clowns.
This afternoon, we plan to cash in our Unicef change and submit the donation. I've promised to match what he has earned. And we'll both feel good for having done a little something to make the world a little better for children who aren't as lucky as JT.
Friday, November 02, 2007
Raised Right
There is an old-fashioned southern phrase that I'm fond of, the idea that a child has been "raised right." Being raised right means lots of things ---- a child who is polite has been raised right; a child who does the right thing even when there is no grown up around to make it happen has been raised right. A child who is raised right knows the right thing to say and do.
Most of my decisions as a parent are driven by this goal: ensuring that JT is raised right. In pursuit of that, I have recently made the decision to carefully expose JT to the news.
Yes, that's right, my 7 year old is a news consumer. He listens to NPR with me. Frankly, there are some topics that I'm not quite ready to explain and so I'll turn off those stories. But we listen to the news each day. In my Government classes, I teach all about political socialization. I know that if I want my child to share my values, I must expose him to those values and explain why I believe the things that I believe. Politically active parents, people who encouraged me to express an opinion and join in political discussions, raised me. I'm seeking to recreate that experience for my child.
So he listens and we talk. I've had reason to explain the war in Iraq and why I think it's a bad idea; that George W. Bush isn't evil but he is wrong; that sometimes people hurt their own children; that in some places children are hungry. In short, my son is learning about the world.
Last Tuesday, I reaped my first reward for these lessons. We were listening to the news; to a story about states requiring that registered voters bring a driver's license to the polls. The story was about who is most adversely affected by these Republican-sponsored laws ---- poor, elderly, and minority voters.
When the story ended, before I could say a thing, my son said to me, "That's not fair, Mama. Some people don't have a driver's license and they won't be able to vote. What if they don't know how to drive or are too old to drive? What if they don't have money for a car? That's not fair."
He's right, of course. And he doesn't know the half of it: that voter ID laws such as these are designed to suppress voter turnout. That the voters who are suppressed are often Democrats and that Republicans raise the specter of vote fraud to justify these laws even though no credible study in the nation believes we have a problem with fraud. My 7 year old didn't need to know those facts. He understood enough to see unfairness and call it as he saw it.
I daresay he's being raised right.
Most of my decisions as a parent are driven by this goal: ensuring that JT is raised right. In pursuit of that, I have recently made the decision to carefully expose JT to the news.
Yes, that's right, my 7 year old is a news consumer. He listens to NPR with me. Frankly, there are some topics that I'm not quite ready to explain and so I'll turn off those stories. But we listen to the news each day. In my Government classes, I teach all about political socialization. I know that if I want my child to share my values, I must expose him to those values and explain why I believe the things that I believe. Politically active parents, people who encouraged me to express an opinion and join in political discussions, raised me. I'm seeking to recreate that experience for my child.
So he listens and we talk. I've had reason to explain the war in Iraq and why I think it's a bad idea; that George W. Bush isn't evil but he is wrong; that sometimes people hurt their own children; that in some places children are hungry. In short, my son is learning about the world.
Last Tuesday, I reaped my first reward for these lessons. We were listening to the news; to a story about states requiring that registered voters bring a driver's license to the polls. The story was about who is most adversely affected by these Republican-sponsored laws ---- poor, elderly, and minority voters.
When the story ended, before I could say a thing, my son said to me, "That's not fair, Mama. Some people don't have a driver's license and they won't be able to vote. What if they don't know how to drive or are too old to drive? What if they don't have money for a car? That's not fair."
He's right, of course. And he doesn't know the half of it: that voter ID laws such as these are designed to suppress voter turnout. That the voters who are suppressed are often Democrats and that Republicans raise the specter of vote fraud to justify these laws even though no credible study in the nation believes we have a problem with fraud. My 7 year old didn't need to know those facts. He understood enough to see unfairness and call it as he saw it.
I daresay he's being raised right.