The big day was yesterday. But a day like that doesn't just happen. Before the General headed out for a sleepover last weekend, he left me my marching orders. My assignment: pull together the Field Day supplies. Failure was not an option. His parting words to me on Saturday morning weren't words at all. He just tapped the Field Day list and gave me a meaningful look. I knew what to do.
Tuesday, June 02, 2009
Field General
MacArthur had the Philippines, Eisenhower had D-Day. JT has Field Day. The boy prepares for Field Day with the precision of a Field General preparing for a full-scale invasion. He looks forward to it for the entirety of the school year. In many ways, he's only willing to attend school for the other 9 months because of the promise of Field Day.
The big day was yesterday. But a day like that doesn't just happen. Before the General headed out for a sleepover last weekend, he left me my marching orders. My assignment: pull together the Field Day supplies. Failure was not an option. His parting words to me on Saturday morning weren't words at all. He just tapped the Field Day list and gave me a meaningful look. I knew what to do.
I secured the Field Day supplies and the General headed off for the day filled with excitement and pride about his impressive supply line.
I walked over to the field at mid-day to see how things were going. There were laughing, busy kids. That's what you want in your Field Day.
And he came back in the afternoon sufficiently sweaty and full of stories about the day.
At bedtime, freshly washed and in clean pajamas, he snuggled under the blanket and announced, "I'm pooped." That's what you call a Field Day success.
The big day was yesterday. But a day like that doesn't just happen. Before the General headed out for a sleepover last weekend, he left me my marching orders. My assignment: pull together the Field Day supplies. Failure was not an option. His parting words to me on Saturday morning weren't words at all. He just tapped the Field Day list and gave me a meaningful look. I knew what to do.
Monday, June 01, 2009
Hostas
On June 4th, JT will be out of school for the summer. And this backyard will become the place where we idle away hours of our time. I'm looking forward to the relaxation and rest.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Identity Politics
At first I was amused but now I've grown downright annoyed at the attention paid to Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor's comment about being a Latina. Specifically, in a speech delivered in 2001 at U.C. Berkeley, she said, “I would hope that a wise Latina woman with the richness of her experiences would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a white male who hasn’t lived that life.”
Immediately, the chattering classes began to debate what this meant. Though I'll admit that her comment was inelegant and imprecise, something that happens to regular people when they speak, I suspect that what she meant is that her identity and her experiences inform her life and her viewpoint; her way of understanding the world.
Well, of course it does.
My life is shaped by my identity. In things big and small, the way I understand the world is shaped by the identities in which I find meaning. The list is long and it changes. I'm a woman, a mother, a teacher, I'm a 41 year old, I grew up in California but live in New Jersey now, I've lived in the Midwest and the South, I'm a political scientist and an historian, I'm a white protestant; I'm gay, I'm a single parent. I'm a cook, a gardener and a reader.
And now I will stop because that's a long list and nowhere close to complete. The political scientist in me remembers a phrase used to understand bureaucracies and the ways in which institutions shape our world view. That phrase is "where you sit is where you stand." In short, it means that the identities you have shape your view. I explain it to my students by noting that if they came to class one day as a teacher instead of a student, they would act as the teacher (or how they believe the teacher would act). And that behavior would be shaped by the teachers they know, especially those who have influenced them the most.
In so many ways, as my identity has grown and changed, I have become a different person. I was a teacher before I was a mother, and that transition made me see things from a whole other viewpoint. I'm a better teacher for becoming a mama. Does that mean that teachers who aren't parents aren't as understanding and as capable? Of course not. That means what it means: being a parent changed my identity and consequently changed my world view. I think it's made me a better teacher. I know it's made me a different teacher.
At the founding of our nation, James Madison recommended that our government officials have "an intimate sympathy" with the people whom they represented and governed. Thoughtful people, and that includes Judge Sotomayor, understand that the ways in which we view the world are a function of our experiences and the ways in which we have come to understand those experiences. That doesn't make her biased. It makes her human. And in my estimation, thinking humans with a diversity of experiences are exactly what we need on the Supreme Court.
Immediately, the chattering classes began to debate what this meant. Though I'll admit that her comment was inelegant and imprecise, something that happens to regular people when they speak, I suspect that what she meant is that her identity and her experiences inform her life and her viewpoint; her way of understanding the world.
Well, of course it does.
My life is shaped by my identity. In things big and small, the way I understand the world is shaped by the identities in which I find meaning. The list is long and it changes. I'm a woman, a mother, a teacher, I'm a 41 year old, I grew up in California but live in New Jersey now, I've lived in the Midwest and the South, I'm a political scientist and an historian, I'm a white protestant; I'm gay, I'm a single parent. I'm a cook, a gardener and a reader.
And now I will stop because that's a long list and nowhere close to complete. The political scientist in me remembers a phrase used to understand bureaucracies and the ways in which institutions shape our world view. That phrase is "where you sit is where you stand." In short, it means that the identities you have shape your view. I explain it to my students by noting that if they came to class one day as a teacher instead of a student, they would act as the teacher (or how they believe the teacher would act). And that behavior would be shaped by the teachers they know, especially those who have influenced them the most.
In so many ways, as my identity has grown and changed, I have become a different person. I was a teacher before I was a mother, and that transition made me see things from a whole other viewpoint. I'm a better teacher for becoming a mama. Does that mean that teachers who aren't parents aren't as understanding and as capable? Of course not. That means what it means: being a parent changed my identity and consequently changed my world view. I think it's made me a better teacher. I know it's made me a different teacher.
At the founding of our nation, James Madison recommended that our government officials have "an intimate sympathy" with the people whom they represented and governed. Thoughtful people, and that includes Judge Sotomayor, understand that the ways in which we view the world are a function of our experiences and the ways in which we have come to understand those experiences. That doesn't make her biased. It makes her human. And in my estimation, thinking humans with a diversity of experiences are exactly what we need on the Supreme Court.
Saturday, May 30, 2009
Saturday, May 30: This Week in Supper
Yesterday was the end of classes for me and so this past week was plenty busy. But I still managed to do some cooking.
Monday was Memorial Day and that can only mean one thing: cook-out. A friend came over and I grilled veggies and Halloumi (more on that soon) and made cream-cheese bacon-wrapped jalopeno poppers from this recipe. Yummy.

On Tuesday, I tried out a panini sandwich I dreamed up: sharp cheddar, deli ham, and grilled red onion. I served it with a green salad and sliced strawberries and bananas. Winning combination, that. It will be making another appearance soon.
On Thursday, I made some guacamole (there had been complaints from the inmate who felt deprived of guacamole). JT enjoyed guacamole tacos while I ate a tostada with refried beans and saffron rice.
On Friday, I fell for that well-known boy plot: take me to Subway, please, Mama. Judge me if you must, but I'd had a long week.
Monday was Memorial Day and that can only mean one thing: cook-out. A friend came over and I grilled veggies and Halloumi (more on that soon) and made cream-cheese bacon-wrapped jalopeno poppers from this recipe. Yummy.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Caterwauling
The weather has been mostly lovely lately and we've slept with the windows open for the last two weeks. I like the sound of chirping birds when I get up each morning. But on Sunday morning, at 5:30 AM I awoke to a loud thunk and the unearthly sound of a cat yelling and crying. I found my glasses and headed downstairs to check things out, convinced that one of the cats had endured a mortal wound. My heart was pounding with fear.
I came downstairs to find Lucy screaming her tiny cat head off at another cat on the back deck of the house. It was not the Tiger Imposter (also known as Fat Tiger), but a black and white cat I didn't recognize. As he quietly walked the length of the back deck and peered in the window, Lucy screeched at him. Tiger stood nearby, calmly supervising the security crisis, confident that Lucy had things under control. The Cat Invader finally turned tail and left and we all returned to our beds, secure in the knowledge that Lucy is watching over the joint.
I came downstairs to find Lucy screaming her tiny cat head off at another cat on the back deck of the house. It was not the Tiger Imposter (also known as Fat Tiger), but a black and white cat I didn't recognize. As he quietly walked the length of the back deck and peered in the window, Lucy screeched at him. Tiger stood nearby, calmly supervising the security crisis, confident that Lucy had things under control. The Cat Invader finally turned tail and left and we all returned to our beds, secure in the knowledge that Lucy is watching over the joint.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Real Life Conversations with JT: Second Opinion edition
On more than one occasion, I have conversations with JT whereby I urge him to incorporate more fruits and vegetables in the list of food that he will consent to eat. He treats this as the advice of a mad woman. The other day, I was yet again preaching the virtue of veggies we had the following conversation.
Mama: Veggies are good for you and they taste good. How about you try one?
JT: I'll eat a potato chip. That's made of potatoes.
Mama: Well (hemming and hawing to escape the logic conundrum)....potato chips don't really count as a vegetable.
JT: Why?
Mama: Because there's not much potato in them and they are fried.
JT: But they are still made of potatoes. That's a vegetable. I want a second opinion.
Clearly, my expertise is suspect.
Mama: Veggies are good for you and they taste good. How about you try one?
JT: I'll eat a potato chip. That's made of potatoes.
Mama: Well (hemming and hawing to escape the logic conundrum)....potato chips don't really count as a vegetable.
JT: Why?
Mama: Because there's not much potato in them and they are fried.
JT: But they are still made of potatoes. That's a vegetable. I want a second opinion.
Clearly, my expertise is suspect.
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Lucille
Nearly three years ago, JT and I adopted our cats Tiger and Lucy. It was the sound recommendation of my friend E that we get two cats. So on the day we went to the animal shelter we selected two litter-mate kittens to move into Sassafras House. In JT's mind, the boy kitten was his and so he named him: Tiger. I am a girl and the girl cat was my responsibility and so I named Lucy.
Tiger is a boy. He's big and sort of pushy when he wants something. If he needs a space on your lap, he shoves on in. If the food bowl runs short, he insistently follows you around the house until you get the hint. He doesn't truck with nonsense and when he needs something, he lets you know.
Lucy is a girl. She wants to talk about her feelings. Endlessly. If Lucy is unhappy the entire household is made to know about it as she meows her dissatisfaction chorus. And Lucy is very particular girl. Lately, she has decided that she would like to be petted while I'm in the downstairs bathroom combing my hair. She rolls around on the lid of the toilet and if that fails to capture my attention, she stands in the sink and meows at me endlessly while she shakes her tail at me. It is not a gentle meow. It's an insistent "pet me now or else" meow that can be heard throughout the house.

I must say I admire Lucy's commitment to getting her way, though on some mornings I am sorely tempted to turn on the tap and see how she likes it. Not much, I expect. And then I would certainly hear about it.
Tiger is a boy. He's big and sort of pushy when he wants something. If he needs a space on your lap, he shoves on in. If the food bowl runs short, he insistently follows you around the house until you get the hint. He doesn't truck with nonsense and when he needs something, he lets you know.
Lucy is a girl. She wants to talk about her feelings. Endlessly. If Lucy is unhappy the entire household is made to know about it as she meows her dissatisfaction chorus. And Lucy is very particular girl. Lately, she has decided that she would like to be petted while I'm in the downstairs bathroom combing my hair. She rolls around on the lid of the toilet and if that fails to capture my attention, she stands in the sink and meows at me endlessly while she shakes her tail at me. It is not a gentle meow. It's an insistent "pet me now or else" meow that can be heard throughout the house.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Season Opener
For many of us, Memorial Day marks the start of summer. That's well and good for the adults, but if you are a boy the summer season is officially opened when your Mama consents to a run in the sprinkler. Conveniently, these two days coincided yesterday. After I cut the grass in the backyard (this time I took action before it resembled a pasture!), I set up the backyard sprinkler and turned the boy loose to face its wrath.
The sprinkler game involves a practice lacrosse stick, drafted into temporary use as a sword.
Our hero valiantly faces down the exploding water.
He emerges unscathed on the other side of the sprinkler. But can he return alive?
How dare you doubt our hero! The sprinkler put up a valiant battle, but JT was finally able to declare victory.
Monday, May 25, 2009
Western Civilization
In case you can't read things in reverse, the title of this textbook is Western Civilization: The Continuing Experiment, volume B: 1300-1815.I don't know about you, but I found this to be all sorts of amusing. Continuing Experiment? As in, the jury's still out on whether or not Western Civilization is a good idea? On how we should hard wire this thing we call civilization? On whether or not we can call western civilization a success? Warning: it could still go either way people, so now's the time to straighten up and fly right.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
This Week in Supper
I've decided that my occasional This Week in Supper posts are only useful if they have a link to a new recipe or to a new kind of food. And as excuses to cook and post pictures of food that I have cooked goes, I think it's a pretty sound one. Between Little League games JT played in and a baseball game we went to watch, the week was busy and some suppers were not homemade or not worthy of being shared (hangs her head in shame). But those I did make were quite tasty.
On Monday, I made zucchini pancakes and served them with a green salad with blue cheese dressing (homemade, of course), a sour dough roll, and fresh strawberries and bananas.
Later in the week, I turned to my old favorite, cranberry-feta-pecan salad and enjoyed it with bread cheese, and another sour dough roll (my new favorite discovery at Wegmans).
Bread cheese is a cheese with a high melting point (so high, that it basically won't melt). It's dry and on the salty side; really quite yummy. I warm it in a pan and then serve it with a bit of creamed honey or raspberry preserves on top. I get mine from Wegmans; the brand I buy is made by a Wisconsin cheese producer called the Carr cheese company. You can also cook this cheese on an outdoor grill. It's fast, easy, and delicious. And who doesn't love a supper like that?
Update: Nichole points out the obvious weakness of these posts about suppers: JT eats a slim subset of the food I put on the table. The bread, mostly. This Week in Supper, JT-style would feature a parade of chicken, hot dogs, and pasta punctuated by the occasional serving of pizza and sneering looks at veggies and fruits.
I am in denial about this.
On Monday, I made zucchini pancakes and served them with a green salad with blue cheese dressing (homemade, of course), a sour dough roll, and fresh strawberries and bananas.
Update: Nichole points out the obvious weakness of these posts about suppers: JT eats a slim subset of the food I put on the table. The bread, mostly. This Week in Supper, JT-style would feature a parade of chicken, hot dogs, and pasta punctuated by the occasional serving of pizza and sneering looks at veggies and fruits.
I am in denial about this.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)