Okay, so I write about ABC’s Modern Family so much that people might wonder if I’m getting some kind of payment for mentioning it this often. And I do, with laughs.
The promo for next week’s Valentine’s Day themed episode features Claire and Phil, married parents of three, doing a little risque role playing to spice things up . . . with unexpected consequences. Enjoy.
Item #1: Call it ‘Harassment’ Not ‘Bullying’
What if, just for kicks, we stopped referring to the on-going harassment and humiliation of children — which interferes with their ability to function in school — as “bullying,” and, instead, started calling it what it really is, which is “harassment?”
After I read several pieces in today’s Boston Herald about children being subjected to physical and emotional harassment in school which left them feeling unsafe and unable to concentrate – along with school officials, by and large, not doing much to stop the behavior – I kept wondering why it’s not simply called “harassment.” The word “bullying” seems insufficient. As does the word “teasing,” which I’ve also heard invoked to refer to this subject.
One Herald article, entitled “Bullied kids ‘helpless’ against attacks” started thusly:
“Hundreds of angry parents, worried teachers and even terrorized kids are reporting ugly episodes of brutal bullying at schools across Massachusetts as the heartwrenching case of Phoebe Prince continues to expose a painful nerve.
The abuse — detailed in e-mails and phone calls to the Herald – is emotionally jarring, often physical and spreading like a merciless virus in cyberspace.
Kids tell of being forced to drink toilet water, getting pummeled on the bus and seeing themselves ridiculed for all to see on Facebook.
. . . A Boston Latin High School parent said the bullying was so bad her son had to leave the elite school. A teacher on the South Shore said she’s sick over special-needs girls being photographed in the bathroom — only to learn it was all posted on Facebook.”
An accompanying Herald column, “Parents’ pleas fall on deaf ears,” painted a picture of parents feeling likewise helpless when it comes to putting an end to the harassment of their kids at the hands of their classmates:
“‘We told the school and the school did nothing.’
That’s the common refrain I’ve heard over and over since news broke of the apparent suicide of 15-year-old Phoebe Prince of South Hadley, who was relentlessly hounded by high school bullies.
Incredibly, her tormentors remain in class, protected by the school. Yet in conversations with parents and in more than 100 voice mails and e-mails, I learned that protecting bullies, not the bullied, is hardly unique to South Hadley. It’s now the rule in our schools.”
If the student victims were instead adult employees at a company being harassed by a peer, their supervisor would have to step in and stop the harasser from creating a hostile work environment or face a possible lawsuit. If one adult wouldn’t leave another one alone, a criminal restraining order could filed against the harasser. So why can’t the schools do more, like workplaces have done?
Things have been a bit chaotic over the past few days, what with some family drama (don’t ask), the never-ending slog of kids’ activities slowly sucking the life out of me, and trying to shoehorn actual work into the mix, never mind attending to volunteer efforts both The Spouse and I for some reason foolishly offered to do. Plus there was this fifth grade bread baking project we were supposed to complete over the weekend. The Girl actually completed the project on her own — with no help from her parents – but The Eldest Boy did not because, honestly, there was too much crap going on.
In the meantime, to make up for the lack of bloggy stuff, here are a few newsy items I’ve missed in the past few days:
– I had the pleasure of co-hosting the Manic Mommies podcast with Erin Kane last week. We talked about mid-season TV (Big Love, Lost, a bit of ranting about the current state of Grey’s Anatomy) and about our crazy kids’ activities (this was before family drama hit the Picket Fence Post household). You can download the podcast for free on iTunes, including where I called Erin by her co-host’s name, Kristin. Smooth move.
– It was with a heavy heart that I read the recent news stories about a teenage girl living in Massachusetts who committed suicide reportedly in the wake of cyberbullying. Adding to that was the fact that a local school district had an anti-bullying forum led by a Vermont father whose own 13-year-old son (two years younger than my twins) killed himself several years ago after he’d been bullied, and I’ve been wondering when the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is going to legally define bullying behavior with an anti-bullying law and when schools are going to start taking harassment seriously and not as a form of “conflict.” If sexual harassment in the workplace and acts which create a hostile workplace can be outlawed, certainly bullying/intimidating/humiliating harassment and acts which create a hostile learning environment should be as well.
– In a similar vein, the web site Parent Dish had a provocative post about parents who bully and name-call other parents online. Blogger Amy Hatch asked, “How can we teach our children be kind to one another when we can’t model that behavior in our own lives?”
– Completely changing subjects here . . . If you were among those who were once fond of watching Hope and Michael Steadman, Nancy and Elliot Weston, Ellyn Warren, Gary, Melissa and the crew from thirtysomething, you’ll be pleased to learn that season two of the 1980s/90s drama is now out on DVD. My Pop Culture column this week is about why, even though decades have passed since these episodes first aired, “. . . I can find no current TV dramas which capture the gloriously messy and stressful, day-to-day slog of child-rearing, work and marriage as deftly and incisively as this 21-year-old series did.” (As you can tell, “slog” was my preferred word of the week. . .)
Image credit: Dyna Moe/Nobody’s Sweetheart.
As I mentioned yesterday, I decided to take the lead of some New England media folk and chronicle a day in the life of a Massachusetts suburban work-from-home mom of three by snapping photos throughout the day. That mom, of course, was me.
And wouldn’t you know that today happened to be the day when The Youngest Boy stayed home from school complaining of a constellation of vague symptoms. However because The Spouse was working from home, it wasn’t solely my duty to serve at the kid’s beck and call, fetching him beverages, snacks, lunch, blankets, etc.
After reading Metrowest Daily News columnist Julia Spitz’s piece yesterday photographically chronicling a day in her life as a Massachusetts resident – as part of a bigger project sponsored by a Boston TV station — I thought it was a great idea. One day in the life of an average New Englander. Which led to this thought . . . one day in the life of an average suburban mom.
Yeah, yeah, I know . . . the Boston TV station which came up with this project designated January 25 as the official day to take and post “Day in the Life” Massachusetts photos, but I’ve decided to it’d be fun to take photos tomorrow and post a few snapshots on this blog from throughout the day that reflect an average day.
Image credit: Julia Spitz/Metrowest Daily News.
Jan Eliot’s Stone Soup comic has a tendency to strangely reflect some aspect of what’s going on in my house at any given moment. It’s really starting to freak me out a little.
Take this week’s subject: The two grade-school aged girls — whose favorite pastime is mocking their mom’s lack of expertise in the domestic arena – have been forced to pick up the slack when it came to the laundry and preparing dinner, since their single (widowed) mom’s busy working and their grandmother, who had helped out around the house, is on an extended trip. The girls are finally going to get a taste of what it’s like to tackle the mundane and unglorified tasks of running a household. (I’ll bet the tuna surprise they’ve been making in the last two comic strips, with marshmallows and chocolate malted milk balls, will certainly surprise them when they dig into it. My hope is that, if they ruin the laundry and the dinner, that they’ll have a bit more respect for what their mom does for them. But maybe that’s just wishful thinking.
In the Picket Fence Post household, I’ve been trying to get the three kids (8, 11, 11) to be more comfortable with making meals as a way to help out. They prepare their own breakfasts on many school days — The Girl is confident enough to make pancakes and egg dishes — and they’re able to put together school lunches, though The Eldest Boy’s usually too slow moving in the mornings to prepare his lunch. The Spouse has also been trying to get them accustomed to doing the laundry and folding it.
Unfortunately, none of this has prevented The Ungratefuls from routinely kvetching about the dinners I make them. (Actually, that’s not fair. The Eldest Boy doesn’t usually complain and is a very good eater. One out of three ain’t bad I suppose.) However The Youngest Boy will drop to the kitchen floor and roll around in a fury, I’d estimate, roughly, 80 percent of the time when I inform him what I’m making for dinner. The Girl’s technique is to sit at the dinner table and eat nothing, fighting furiously with us if we try to coax her into taking just a bite out of dinner. (Last night, we had words when I tried to convince her to take a bite of the barbecued chicken, long grain rice and the baked butternut squash with pecans and brown sugar I’d prepared. You’d think I was trying to get her to eat beets or chicken livers.)
As of late, I’ve been declining to answer the question, “What’s for dinner?” I leave them on their own to deduce what I’m making, commence with their requisite griping and prepare for a bowl full of cereal for dinner.
Maybe it’ll work out better for the mom in Stone Soup.
Do your kids help out with laundry, making meals or other household chores?
Image credit: Stone Soup via Go Comics.
Just saw the trailer for a new documentary (not yet released) called Babies which follows four babies in four different continents (one was in San Francisco) during their first year of life. Looks fascinating, though the folks who think all babies should be encased in bubble wrap will likely be appalled by the trailer.
Papers, we’ve got papers . . . In the past two weeks — which included a four-day MLK Day weekend — the three Picket Fence Post kids have brought home from school a total of 78 pieces of paper.
Included among the papers were: Four (count ‘em four) copies of the same solicitation for donations to Haiti earthquake relief, two invitations to a Noodle Night fundraiser, two solicitations for a notepad fundraiser, a newsletter from one of the school principals, a classroom newsletter from one of the teachers, 10 pages of worksheets and information about electric currents and circuits, copies of two Robert Frost poems (A Late Walk and Good Hours) that the fifth graders had to read aloud to me 12 times a piece for fluency homework and a notice about an event which is a “non-event” where families are encouraged to “unschedule” themselves and enjoy family time. . . that’s once they’ve unearthed themselves from the piles of paperwork.
The total number of papers brought home by the three kiddos (grades 3, 5 and 5) since The Paper Project began at the beginning of the school year: 1,145. (For background on The Paper Project, go here.)
Any fans of Lost in the house? As the start of the final season draws closer (it’s on Feb. 2), fans are gearing up to say goodbye to the complicated series. And they’re doing so in a variety of ways, including by making parody videos.
Some folks who call themselves “The Gorgeous Geeks” have created a cartoonish video extolling the virtues of Sawyer, the fast-talking, nickname-giving con man with the shaggy mane of blonde hair:
Want to see a family-styled spoof? An Italian family from Long Island reenacted scenes from Lost’s previous seasons in someone’s house, mostly in the living room. The kids, the grandparents, everyone got involved . . . to amusing ends, with a little interruption from a Jets game. As I watched it, I thought that my kids would have a blast doing something like this:
Item #1: Snacks All the Time
It was something that annoyed me to no end when my children were but wee little toddlers. Everywhere we went – playdates, the park, pre-school – it seemed as though nearly all of my peers were handing their children snacks every two hours or so. If you went against the grain and didn’t provide your offspring with some sustenance at regular, two-hour intervals, your kids would throw a tantrum because the other kids were eating Pirate’s Booty while they were wasting away to nothing as you just sat there impassively, witnessing the horror of their deprivation without batting an eyelash.
It has continued, even worsened, during their grade school years, this obsession with snacking. I chaperoned a school field trip for my 8-year-old this past fall and was stunned that the students were instructed to eat their snacks (that parents were told to send in) on the bus on the way to our destination, less than an hour after the students had arrived to school. (Hadn’t they just eaten breakfast?) Some kids even brought in multiple snacks, one for the bus ride there, one for the bus ride home, and a lunch in between the snacks.
This constant feeding of children — despite all the news stories about rampant childhood obesity — has even infiltrated the sidelines of youth soccer games and the benches during baseball games. Here we are, bringing our kids to participate in an athletic activity and we give them food either during or after the games (or both) because, what, they can’t make it for an hour or two without food? They can’t just wait until they get home?
What the heck is up with all this food? Why are we, as a society, encouraging this, creating this habit that, once the kids become our age, will catch up with them and their waistlines? I have no problem with giving kids an afterschool snack, or with giving them an occasional dessert after dinner (I did blog about making cupcakes the other day) but why do we feel compelled to institutionalize this snacking throughout the day in addition to their three meals (which, oftentimes, they won’t eat — even though I’ve worked hard to make well-rounded, homemade fare – because of all of these damned snacks)?
An article in the New York Times Dining section this week entitled, “Snack Time Never Ends” made me feel vindicated. I am NOT the only parent who rolls her eyes when she sees someone pull out a box of powdered doughnuts on the sidelines soccer games or when a kid brings a series of snacks, plus a lunch when he’s only going to be away from home between 8:30 and 4. Here’s an excerpt of the story about the all-snacks-all-the-time mentality:
“. . . [W]hen it comes to American boys and girls, snacks seem both mandatory and constant. Apparently, we have collectively decided as a culture that it is impossible for children to take part in any activity without simultaneously shoving something into their pie holes.
‘Children used to come home, change into play clothes and go outside and play with other children,’ said Joanne Ikeda, a nutritionist emeritus at the University of California, Berkeley. ‘There were not snack machines, and the gas station only sold gas. Now there are just so many more opportunities to snack and so many activities after school to have snacks.”
Do you think we’ve become a society obsessed with snacks?
Item #2: 11-Year-Old Skater
Here’s what my 11-year-old daughter does during any given week: Goes to school, plays basketball or four-square at recess, does her homework, reads tons of books, listens to music, draws/sketches, plays on a basketball team and goes to her games and practices, attends church, watches TV, plays Wii and plays with friends, her brothers and our dog. All in all, it’s a pretty nice, well-rounded tween life. Just the way it should be.
So when I read a profile in the New York Times this week about another 11-year-old girl who’s gunning for Olympic gold in figure skating, I couldn’t help but think of my own child and how different her life would be if she were in that girl’s skates. The ice skating girl had skates slapped onto her feet at age 2, started “formal lessons” at 4 and now is “out of bed at 5 on most school days, on the ice six days a week” and “finished an encouraging sixth on Tuesday in the novice ladies division at the United States championships,” the Times reported.
The article quoted her coach and her mother saying that, at age 4, it was decided that, as far as her career and future in figure skating went, they were going to “commit everything to it.” While I respect that every family has its own set of values and priorities — there are folks who think I’m crazy for limiting our children to one sport per season per kid and, most of the time, do not permit playing the same sport in back-to-back seasons — I felt very sad for this child when I read this passage:
“On winter and spring breaks, her classmates can sleep in while she must spend much of her time at the rink.
‘I do want a break sometimes,’ [she] said. ‘I’d like to go to a birthday party.’
Asked if she skated for herself or because others wanted her to, she replied, ‘I guess it’s half and half; sometimes I want to and sometimes I don’t.’”
When the Times asked the child’s mother if she’d permit her daughter to drop out of figure skating if the 11-year-old didn’t want to do it anymore, the mom told the paper, “Probably not. I see her potential. For sure I would like that she continue and do her job. I think she can do it.”
Item #3: ‘Squeakquel’ Gripes
Okay, I know that I have no business griping about that Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel. It’s a Chipmunks movie, so what the heck should I have expected, literary allusions and insightful observations on the human (or mammalian) condition? Of course not.
When I took my 11-year-old twins to see this screechy sequel this week (the 8-year-old saw it with friends during Christmas break), I didn’t give much thought to the film’s premise: The trio of famous singing boy chipmunks goes to high school while a trio of as-yet undiscovered singing girl chipmunks enrolls in the same school in an attempt to become international rock stars a la the original Chipmunks boy band.
The problem — other than the fact that I didn’t bring ear plugs – was watching the female chipmunks perform. I was really disappointed that their ”performances” were all about hip swaying and pelvis grinding, along with substantial booty shaking. Offstage the “Chippettes” were as innocent and sweet as the boy chipmunks, but on stage, it was an entirely different story. On stage, they turned into Beyonce.
This annoyed me, probably more than it should have. Why couldn’t the Chippettes just have been portrayed as really good singers who rocked the house with their talent and coolness? Why did they have to send the message to the girls that to be successful, gals should capitalize on sex appeal and go the rump-shaking route? After all, the boy chipmunks weren’t pulling a Justin Timberlake when he does his booty shaking thing. *shaking my head*
Image credit: Pirate’s Booty web site.
Author and columnist Meredith O'Brien gives you a peek behind the picket fences of modern day life and parenting in the 'burbs. With humor and candor, it's her take on real parenting in the real world.
Notes from the Asylum (Watercooler Musings On Pop Culture & Politics) Mommy Tracked Pop Culture Columns Follow me on TwitterPowered by WordPress
