Picket Fence Post

The 4-month-old Picket Fence Post family’s puppy, Max, almost made an old adage come true today when he got hold of The Youngest Boy’s saffron yellow reading homework packet for the week that was on the refrigerator held there by a magnetic clip.

Apparently the 10 other dog toys strewn around the kitchen floor — including balls, a rope toy, a squeaky plush dog bone thing, a squeaky faceless guy that squeaks — weren’t enough to keep his interest. He wanted to tackle some reading comprehension exercises.

Luckily, I was able to snag the packet away from Max before any significant damage was done. The corner’s a little mauled though.

Wonder if, when The Youngest Boy hands it in on Friday, I should write a little note explaining that the dog nearly ate the homework. Or maybe that’s too cliche.

It’s been four weeks since the Picket Fence Post kids returned to school, to grades three and five.

During the past week, The Girl missed three days of school and The Eldest Boy missed one due to illness (see earlier blog post about the kids being sick all the time). And they don’t have any school on Monday because it’s Yom Kippur. But none of this has put a substantial dent in the amount of paper that has come home.

The past week’s paper load included: Another glossy, heavy stock copy of the Massachusetts Department of Public Health flu brochure, a word search that The Youngest Boy did in school and a large envelope filled with fliers/glossy brochures for the parent organization’s annual wrapping paper/chocolates/gifts fundraising drive.

Total number of paper brought home this week (not including daily homework assignments to be completed and then sent home): 68.

Total number of pieces of papers brought home to date: 277.

Item #1: Triumphant Working Mom Tale

I’m a huge fan of the talk show Morning Joe on MSNBC (6-9 a.m. weekdays), chiefly because I like the easy rapport and smart, witty banter between the co-hosts Joe Scarborough and Mika Brzezinski. (My three kids now know the hosts by name and have been known to pause while eating their breakfast cereal to ask, “What is Joe TALKING about?”)

Despite having been a regular viewer of this show for a little more than a year, I didn’t know that Brzezinski had been let go by CBS in 2005 when she was 39 (when she learned “coincidentally” that one of the network higher ups didn’t think she was attractive enough, though she says that she doesn’t think that’s why she was fired). The mom of two went into a deep funk, wound up taking a job which paid a fraction of her original salary at CBS and . . . now she’s a successful TV host. Her interview with More Magazine in the October issue – which has the awesome Sela Ward on the cover — is worth reading if only to learn her philosophy about trying to succeed at your job and raise a family at the same time. “I’d rather spend one good hour with my kids a day than eight bad ones,” she said.

Item #2: Hollywood Babies After 40

 In that same issue of More Magazine, there was a feature about 10 celebs who have given birth to their first child after the age of 40, a trend which seems to be gaining traction in Hollywood. “The birthrate for women ages 40 to 44 has more than doubled in the past 25 years, and Hollywood is no exception to the trend,” More reported. Among those on the list: Holly Hunter who had twins at age 47, Mariska Hargitay who had her first son at age 42 and Marcia Cross who also had twins at 45.

Item #3: Welcome Home Daddy

One of the things about which members of the media were excited when a president with young children moved into the White House were photos like the ones taken recently of 8-year-old Sasha Obama, who was so excited that her dad, the president, had arrived home from a business trip that she ran to him and leapt into his arms. The same thing happens in my household when The Spouse gets home and our 8-year-old son launches himself into The Spouse’s arms, thrilled . . . only there’s no White House press corps to document it. Just me.

(more…)

We *knock on wood* seem to be a reasonably healthy family. We eat relatively healthy meals, or at least I offer the kids an array of healthy foods if you go by an entire week’s worth of meals (though they don’t always eat the well rounded fare). The kids have daily vitamins, drink milk and have lots of fresh fruit. They go to their regular well kid and dentist appointments. They’re active and play on sports teams. So why the heck does it seem like the twin 11-year-olds and the 8-year-old are sick all the time?

Within the past week, all three of the Picket Fence Post kids have been home sick from school with some viral/cold thingie. (Throw in two half days that each of the kids’ schools had last week, and I realized that I haven’t been freed from daytime child care responsibilities in over a week. Plus, they don’t have school on Monday. It’s difficult to work from home under such conditions.) The viral/cold thingie, which the nurse at the pediatrician’s office said I should simply allow to run its course, has mildly affected  The Spouse and I, though it didn’t stop us from seeing U2 in concert on Monday night in Foxborough, hip music fans are we, amidst a sea of Baby Boomer and GenXer concert goers out on a school night.

I’ve grown tired of this viral/cold thingie. I want this sick business to end. Pronto.

In other family melodrama . . .

. . . While she’s been recovering from her viral/cold thingie, The Girl gobbled up Twilight, the vampire novel that’s been so popular with the tween- and teenaged populace. (She came home from soccer practice last week and told me she felt left out because “everybody” on the team had already read it, everyone but her. Plus they all have cell phones, she added, to which I snorted with laughter.) It took her one day to plow through Twilight, seeing as though she was home sick from school and did nothing but read. At around lunchtime today, The Girl appeared in the kitchen to inform me that she HAD to have the next book in the series, New Moon. And given that she’s very excited for reading material and I adore that she’s reading, I’m going to oblige her.

Speaking of reading, The Youngest Boy (who’s not a fan of reading and has to be heavily lobbied to crack open a book) told me yesterday that he “loves” (he actually used the word “loves”) reading now that he’s able to read Diary of a Wimpy Kid in school. Said he “can’t put the book down.” I almost shouted with joy.

So when the new installment of the Wimpy Kid books, Diary of a Wimpy Kid Dog Days comes out on October 12, I’m going to make a big deal out of its release in our house, hoping to cultivate and nurture his budding excitement about reading. Can’t hurt.

Image credit: Stephenie Meyer web site.

Things have slowed down a bit with the number of papers brought home from school by the three Picket Fence Post kids after the initial onslaught of repetitive health forms, parental notification forms and lengthy student handbooks which tell students and parents about many things that are and aren’t allowed at their schools, including informing us that joking and playing “war” is verboten.

Seriously, here’s the quote from one of the school’s handbooks, “There can no longer be any pretending to play war, to have weapons, or make jokes about these serious issues.” No word on what happens if you use a deck of cards to play War. Expulsion, or perhaps being asked who they think they are during questioning under hot lights in the principal’s office? Oops, there I go, role modeling bad behavior by joking about a war-like interrogation technique. My bad.

Annnyway . . . during the third week of school, in which all three kids had half days of school (they won’t have a full week of school until next week), the total number of pieces of paper which came home totalled 63. This included a lengthy, glossy brochure  from the Massachusetts Department of Public Health about the flu that The Youngest Boy brought home. That likely means that we’ll be getting two more copies of this brochure for the other two kids — at 28 pages in length (14 pieces of paper).

This brings the grand total for the first three weeks of school to: 209 pieces of paper.

Item #1: Tossing Back the Foul Ball

Ever wondered what would happen if you took the kids to a ballgame and a foul ball headed your way?

A dad of a 3-year-old girl found out this week when a foul ball was hit in their direction during a Phillies-Nationals game. Thrilled that he caught the ball, he triumphantly handed it to his daughter . . . who hurled it back onto the field. Giving the ball back to the rightful owners, she must’ve thought. How sweet. Even sweeter was Dad’s reaction.

(more…)

If you watched the latest episode of Mad Men entitled, “The Fog” (my recap/review can be found here), you saw a dramatization of what it was like to give birth during the 1960s.

And it wasn’t pretty.

As Betty Draper gave birth to her third child, the medical staff — one nurse in particular – patronized her (mocked her for eating pineapple earlier that day), threatened her (when Betty said she was too tired to push the baby any longer the nurse said she’d better push or they’d go in and take the baby out), ignored her pleas for her husband, pinned her down, provided no comfort or encouragement, and drugged her so that she was in what they called “twilight” sleep where she was in and out of lucidity. During the stressful pushing stage, Betty’s mind wandered off to her own kitchen where she envisioned herself speaking with her deceased parents, including her father who died the week before. All in all, it was a miserable experience.

A Mad Men themed blog entitled Basket of Kisses had a great analysis of the way in which Betty was treated at the hospital. Many of the blog’s readers chimed in in the comments section and shared their experiences of giving birth during that period, when the men went to a solarium to drink and smoke, while the pregnant women were infantilized. It was a horrifying portrayal, to say the least.

Image credit: Carin Baer/AMC.

It took some convincing on my older kids’ part to get me to read the entire Harry Potter series. They’d become so enthralled by everything about the world of Potter that I felt as though I’d be missing out on a huge opportunity to bond with them if I didn’t slog through the thousands of pages of J.K. Rowling’s fanciful tale about a humble boy wizard. Surprisingly, I discovered that I adored the books and was very moved by the time I came to the conclusion of the seventh installment. I didn’t want it to end.

Then I read the news this week that injected joy in my heart: Universal Orlando Resort is opening a Harry Potter theme park next spring called, the “Wizarding World of Harry Potter.” 

I am so there, or at least I want to be. This is a rare thing, mind you, as I’m not much of a fan of theme parks. When the entire Picket Fence Post family went to Disney World for a week in January with a set of Picket Fence Post grandparents, it was indeed great fun and I loved making those memories with the kids, but I’m not much of a ride person. But at a Potter theme park, I think I’d have big expectations for my own personal enjoyment of it.

The Universal press release gushed, “Guests will be able to sip Butterbeer, buy Extendable Ears at Zonkos and experience a state-of-the-art attraction that brings the stories of Harry Potter to life in a way never before imagined.”

Not that they’re raising hopes and expectations. Much. Visitors will see Hogsmeade, the Hogwarts Castle, Honeydukes, Hogs Head, Ollivander and even have a ride on a Hippogriff. A video has images of what the “Wizarding World” will look like. The whole idea of it makes me feel like a kid as I try to imagine what it would’ve been like to have one of my favorite childhood fictional worlds – something like Star Wars – be recreated in front of me. (I should note that my favorite part of Disney was the Hollywood Studios portion where we logged some quality time in the Star Wars corner of the park.)

I just love the fact that the Harry Potter phenomenon was initially sparked by good, old fashioned books and that children, young children, are gobbling up the dead tree books and re-reading them compulsively. (I cannot count how many times my twin 11-year-olds have voraciously consumed those books, a couple of which are already falling apart.) Anything that promotes reading and a love of literature, because that’s how I see this, is a wonderful thing.

Below is a video of the map of what will be included in Wizarding World. Is it too early to book a trip . . .

Image credit: Universal Orlando Resort via the LA Times.

The Scene: Saturday morning. It was pouring rain outside. The Spouse and I were about to drop The Girl off for her soccer game and planned on reading the newspapers while we waited in the car with The Eldest Boy and The Youngest Boy until the game started.

“Mom! The oranges! Do you have the oranges? I’m team captain this week,” The Girl blurted as we pulled up next to the curb to drop her off.

A little more than 20 minutes later, I was running out of the grocery store in a torrential downpour clutching a plastic grocery bag containing: A cheap kitchen knife, oranges and a box of Ziploc bags. (No, we didn’t have any oranges at home. Both The Spouse and I had forgotten all about the buying of the oranges thing and we were determined not to screw up on the very first game of the season by being the family that forgot the oranges.)

As The Spouse drove back to the field, I grabbed a small plastic crate that we keep in the car, covered it with the plastic grocery bag to use as a makeshift cutting station, busted open the Ziploc baggie box, pulled out a baggie and then began slicing oranges and dropping them inside.

Pulp and juice got onto everything. The dashboard. The passenger window. The seat belts. The console thingy between the driver’s and passenger’s seats. The Spouse’s eye. (Yes, we quoted the famous, “Pulp can move, baby” line from Seinfeld.) And during all of this, I had to try to ignore my pressing worry that I’d cut my fingers if The Spouse took a corner too quickly while I was slicing.

We arrived back at the field just before the game started. The Spouse pulled over to let me out next to the field and then went to park the vehicle. While under the cover of the umbrella, I darted across the soaking wet field and tossed the Ziploc bag full of oranges next to the girls’ water bottles with a chipper, “Hey, here are the oranges!”

No slackers were we.

Image credit: From this web site.

Three events over the past several days which have been widely publicized and have provided parents with great examples which we can use to teach our kids how NOT to behave when you’re in public, particularly in front of a nationally (or internationally) televised audience.

Here are video snippets of the events, along with the chestnuts of wisdom I passed along to my kids about them:

Even if you don’t think the best person wins some award or honor, it’s best to keep your trap shut, especially when you’re at the event and the winner is about to speak. Don’t ruin that person’s moment. You have a right to your opinion that the person standing at the mike didn’t deserve the honor, certainly, but hijacking an event to express that opinion is plain wrong.

If you believe you were wronged by someone who’s judging you or who has authority over you — a teacher, a coach, a ref, a boss, etc. — it’s not wise to flip out, swear, threaten to shove various solid objects into other’s orifices and throw things, especially if you’re live on television. It’s unlikely that you’re going to get your way by acting that way.

If you’re sitting in the audience at a public venue, it’s rude to shout out to the person who’s speaking, no matter what, but especially if you’re going to shout out something negative. (We’re not talking about if you’re at a sporting event, though, just to be clear.) It’s one thing if you’re in a debate or you’re behind closed doors and you’re heatedly discussing something about which both you and another person are passionate, perhaps then you could challenge the veracity of what that other person is saying by using harsh rhetoric. But that’s only if it’s a debate or if you’re both engaged in an exchange of ideas. Screaming “You lie!” at someone, especially the president, when you’re sitting in an audience? Not cool.