The Child: A Divorce's Weapon of Choice

06.30.2010

Divorce. It’s usually nasty and painful, and if there are kids involved it can get that much more nasty and painful.

My mom divorced my sister’s dad and, oddly, I don’t feel the actual divorce hurt me much. His short stay with us was the damaging part. My mom made it a point to not speak badly of my sister’s dad to her but, unfortunately, I was the ear to all of her opinions and troubles with him that, of course, helped shape my (negative) view of men.

Despite that, though, my mom’s attitude towards my sister’s dad and the divorce isn’t nearly as bad as I’ve seen with some families. I hate to keep bringing up my teaching, but, I witnessed so many things while teaching both in English school at Lithuanian Saturday school. One thing I consistently saw was parents using their kids as leverage against the other parent. This always devastated me.

I had a 6^th grader once who came back from x-mas vacation bragging about how his dad got him the latest video game system and that once his mom found out about it, she ran out and bought the competitor’s system, which was more expensive I think. Everything was a competition while the kid's grades sank into a deep oblivion. The parents desperately tried to outdo each other forgetting that their kid’s future was the most important issue at hand and not their damn pride.

Another parent (from Lithuanian school) argued with me that I had no right to give homework and that I shouldn’t be giving grades. He claimed that Lithuanian school was “social hour” and if his daughter had a question about something or wanted to know more about something she could look it up on her own time. I knew he was doing this because his hot little ex-wife was flirting her way through the Lithuanian American bachelors and the daughter didn’t want to do any work, and so he wanted to come out as the hero.

I can’t speak from experience on this because I’ve never been divorced myself, thank God. But, as a (former) educator and society participant, I wish that parents would be more aware of how their actions are affecting their children. I understand that sometimes it’s better that 2 people don’t stay together but to use the kids as bullets against a spouse is cruel and lifelong damaging. In almost 10 years of teaching, I have only seen one set of divorced parents try their best to be civil to each other for the sake of their kids.

Two people may split up and the journey together as a couple comes to an end. But responsibility toward your child doesn’t.

Advice on Social Networking

06.29.2010

Ahhh…I’m glad some child receives this advice early on…Enjoy![1]

---

[1] Los Angeles Times, Parade Magazine, Sunday, June 27, 2010, p. 18.

"My Life is Better Than Yours"

06.28.2010

People come and go in our lives…we all know that. As we grow and experience the world through one set of eyes others are witnessing it through a different set. Sometimes the two are compatible for a long time and sometimes not.

I’ve had my share of painful “break-ups” with friends; four in fact. Three of them were by my choice and if I had to do it all over again, including the “break up,” I would. The fourth that fell apart still slightly remains a mystery to me; however, if push came to shove, I’d probably be able to cough up what happened and, after 15 years, I can very much admit to what I did wrong. In fact, this person and I have seen each other a few times over the years but it wasn't until just recently, after a thoroughly pleasant conversation, a great calm came over me. I feel I (we) had closure even though we didn't talk about what happened.

Anyway, back to the point of today's posting.

What is difficult to go through, I think, is when you see someone close to you change, almost overnight, because she had a child. I had to endure friendships where my girlfriend(s) held it over my head that I was the single one and who would remind me that I just couldn’t understand what it was like (to be in a relationship). I kind of always found that to be funny because it was as if I was a demanding friend but, if anything, I was the one who actually withdrew because I didn’t want to bother them and their time with their guy. And now, over the years, some "friends" have held it over my head that I’m not part of the special “baby club.”

I abhor this.

I know that my set of responsibilities is different from parents. I know that my daily routine is different from parents. I know that my concerns are different from parents. But I’m still me and…I thought the friend was still, well, a friend.

I once had to go through this with someone with whom I was a friend since childhood. Granted, our friendship was…an "interesting" one and one that warranted a few therapy sessions over the years. In fact, my relationship with her was very similar to the kind of relationship I had (have?) with my mom. So the baby thing was just one added layer to an ocean-filled list of issues between us.

So now as I get older and more people are having children, I hear more of this exclusivity going around; a kind of “I’m-better-than-you” attitude. To me, this is a way of using children for the sake of some makeshift competition between (insecure) adults. For some, as a toddler, it’s all about who’s got the coolest toys in the sandbox. For some, as a young child, it’s all about who’s got the coolest toys in the backpack. For some, as a teen, it’s about who’s listening to the coolest music (or who has the latest gadgets/video games, etc.). Then that transfers to the coolest college or job or car. I guess the next logical step is that it becomes about who’s got the coolest life with the 2-car garage, 2.35 kids, dog and white picket fence.

I may have once been all about the coolest gadgets, toys and music, but I have no interest in playing the “coolest life” game because, well, those rules seem too boring. I’d like to play a game where people get to be themselves without any pretenses, maybe sing a song or two and, at the end of the day, be happy that they got to see yet another sunset. We only get one shot in this lifetime…why waste it on pretending to be something you're not?

Reality Shows Violate Child Labor Laws

06.27.2010

In today’s paper, there’s an article about children in reality TV shows and whether or not production companies are violating child labor laws by taping them. Apparently CA and NY have the strictest standards (boy, I wonder why) but most reality shows are not shot outside of these states (hmmm…coincidence?) and the federal government leaves it to the States to monitor any child labor.

The producers are arguing that they don’t need to apply for any child labor permits because there’s no monetary exchange occurring. The filming is strictly documentary style; a means of observation.

Baloney.

The two reasons reality shows took off is because 1) we, the audience, are lazy and will pretty much watch anything that’s in front of us, and 2) producers can exploit a group of people and reap all the financial benefits. Yes, technically there may not be a monetary exchange occurring – in the beginning – BUT, these shows are scripted. This has been a fact since the first “Real World” came out on MTV and participants came out to complain that they were being portrayed wrong or that scenarios were taken out of context (all of which occurs in editing and at the producers’ discretion). Once a producer scripts a scene or “gently encourages” a situation to head in a particular direction…you are employing the person and certain laws must take effect. But because so many people are voraciously hungry for fame, they’ll pimp themselves out and their family members in order to be recognized at the local coffee shop.

I think my favorite, Kate Gosselin, is the prima donna of that. Except now she’s recognizable all over the place and continues to pimp herself out and her family because she won’t give up the fame. As a matter of fact, TLC has just applied for child permits for the upcoming season and, if I were a lawyer, I’d demand backpay for these kids. I believe that both Jon and Kate, individually, we’re receiving about $25K per episode. PER EPISODE! Soooo….how the hell does that not equate an employee-employer relationship?

I desperately wish that reality TV would go away even though I love Cake Boss. But I could live without it. We should leave the human observation to the trained anthropologists who spend years studying a culture. We viewers watch this trash on TV in order for us to feel better about our lives. It’s fun to watch people make asses out of themselves and then talk about them the next day around the water cooler. Hey, I’m not immune to that but I’ll also be the first to say that it’s stupid. I also do try to watch as little of the reality shows as possible. I think because of the cheap way in which it’s done, it destroys lives with a false promise of riches and I wish so much that we were a society that didn’t exist for the sole reason to get fame, fortune and riches.

What Do You Mean Santa Isn't...?

06.26.2010

Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, leprechauns…remember when you believed they all existed? Do you also remember the day you found out they actually didn’t exist? I think to a kid finding that info out – mostly about Santa – is like adults remembering where they were and what they were doing when JFK got shot. I was in 3^rd grade when a boy told me that Santa doesn’t exist. In true form, I began to debate him and he entered into evidence the fact that he found his gifts in the hall closet wrapped and tagged “from Santa” and we were still weeks away from the actual holiday. Suddenly, at age 8, my world came crashing down on me. I prayed and hoped so much that it wasn’t true but then I saw signs in my own family that proved this boy was correct. If you want to know the truth, 27 years later, every x-mas, there’s still a part of me that thinks…”What if?”

But after all is said and done, would you go through all of it again despite the sadness that you go through when the truth is revealed? I know that some parents are vehemently against telling their kids about Santa or any of the other “silly” cultural lies and, as much as I understand that side, I’m not totally convinced it’s better to not participate in it.

Some argue that it’s a cruel conspiracy in which to include a child and this “plotting” against them is just unnecessary. But I kinda think that’s going a bit overboard. I don’t see how this has become a “conspiracy” or how it has evolved into a “plot” against children in some way. If anything, it’s a plot against parents to suck their bank accounts dry.

I think if I had a child now and he/she found out the truth, it would warrant a discussion about it and to talk through any feelings of sadness. I remember that first x-mas when I knew and as sad as I was, I was hell bent on making sure that my sister, who was 1 ½ at the time would have a kick-ass x-mas. And I made sure of that for every year thereafter until she found out herself. It became a game for me and, if anything, a sort of “initiation” into the world of adulthood: I knew something that other adults knew and the “children” didn’t. Contrary to what some might say, I don’t see the harm but I welcome a different point of view.

p.s. I know it might seem weird that I’m writing about x-mas stuff in the middle of the summer but my brain operates within its own kind of linear progression.

If...Then Why?

06.25.2010

1) If it’s all about having kids, then why do we tell children to “dream big” instead of “dream of being a good mom/dad?”

2) If it’s all about having kids, then why do we set up systems that fail them?

3) If it’s all about having kids, then why go to school?

4) If it’s all about having kids, then why do so many parents feel like they having nothing to live for anymore once the kids move out of the house?

5) If it’s all about having kids, then why is there depression?

6) If it’s all about having kids, then why do parents forget about their individuality?

7) If it’s all about having kids, then why do people forget about their spouse?

8) If it’s all about having kids, then why don’t we stop abuse?

9) If it’s all about having kids, then why do so many parents refuse responsibility?

10) If it’s all about having kids, then why do we forget that it’s all about the kids?

Firstborns

06.24.2010

I often contemplate birth order and have, in the past, read about it in psychology books and stuff. For the most part, I agree with what doctors and researchers say, such as the firstborns tend to be more methodical, careful, and thoughtful (I’m a first born, though I was a single child for 7 years). Sometimes I wonder how much of these characteristics are innate and how much of it is because that’s how (a) parent(s) treat the firstborn.

For example, all parents that I’ve talked to say they completely freak out with every single boo-boo, fall, stumble, cough, odd poop, cry, etc. with the firstborn. By the time the second one rolls around, as long as the child isn’t bleeding, he/she can do anything. The firstborns lay the track and test out the parents’ skills in order for any child born into the family afterwards to have it easy breezy.

How unfair is this? My whole life I thought it’s been unfair, but then…I’m biased.

I was talking to someone today about this very thing and I was told that it is for this reason (the fact that 2^nd and 3^rd, etc. children that are born) tend to be find more success in their life than the firstborn. Because the older child will constantly err on the side of caution, it is the other siblings that learn from an early age to take risks because the parents let them. That's not to say firstborns can't find success - if you ask me, it is the firstborns that can be hellbent on success by working harder and longer because we're determined to prove ourselves.

But...in order to achieve success, a certain amount of risk does need to be taken. Rob and I are both firstborns and both have difficulty in taking risks. We both have trouble experiencing new things and we think everything through until the issue has no life in it anymore. This is actually quite a downside in our relationship. It poses a huge risk for things to remain stagnant.

So really….how much is it innate and how much is it because our parent(s) treated us in a certain kind of way? This is one more reason why I'm scared to have kids. Will I find myself treating my child differently because he/she is the firstborn and I will expect more out of him/her because he/she is “older?” And will I treat the younger child(ren) differently because, well, they’re the “baby” and need more help? Whatever the case may be, I think each child is different with a different set of strengths and weaknesses and that’s what should dictate whether or not a child can or can’t do something.

My Skin's Color Doesn't Equal Hate

06.23.2010

I’m going to slightly stray from the topic of children today although it meshes with previous themes of prejudice, hatred, judgment, etc. I wouldn’t use such strong words to describe what happened to me but, nonetheless, it’s in that general direction.

I was invited to attend a clothing sale and, wanting to support entrepreneurs, I worked in my schedule to attend the sale. It was taking place in a very tiny place near downtown Los Angeles (I will refrain from saying exactly where) and I was very excited to go.

I greeted the woman who invited me and we had a very warm exchange. She showed me around and as I got started more people started piling in. Suddenly, I realized that I stuck out like a sore thumb but that didn’t bother me because that often happens to me and, plus, I live in Los Angeles, so whatever.

But what started to make me feel uncomfortable is the behavior towards me by some of the patrons. I understand that I’m not one of them and that I don’t speak their language, but what really bothered me is the reverse discrimination, the blatant assumption that because I’m white, I automatically dislike them.

I was standing looking at some dresses when a woman came and stood directly in front of me forcing me to take a ½ step to the side and continue looking at the dresses at an angle. Now, you may think, “Why didn’t you say something?” Well, yes, that would be easy, but I’m horrible at defending myself and, already feeling out of place and outnumbered, I resorted to staying silent.

A few minutes later, I noticed these cute pants this woman was trying on and, looking right at her (and she looking at me) I pointed to the pants and said, “Those pants are really cute.” She ignored me. It’s one thing to not understand English, but I was pointing to the damn pants with a smile on my face. I think you can put 2 and 2 together. My family used to host foreign students of all English proficiency levels for 20 years; I know how to deal with non-English speakers. This woman wanted nothing to do with me and just turned her back to me to talk to her friend.

In addition, I was also the “biggest” girl in the place. Once I picked out a few things to try on, I realized that there was only one place to try them – a communal fitting room. “Ok,” I said to myself. “I’ve changed in a communal room with guys, I can handle this.” But the problem? The only full-length mirror was outside…where all the patrons were.

Let me reiterate: I was the “biggest” girl there. You know how clothes look one way on the hangar and then completely different once they’re on? (Like barfingly gross when actually on your body? I have this happen all the time. That is why I hate shopping.)

So now I’m trying to catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror in front of everyone (and not liking what I see) and it can only be a glimpse because the women who have been using the mirror for a long time wouldn’t move. And about those who were standing around (looking at me), I can only imagine what they were saying because I might not be able to understand word-for-word what they were saying, but I know when I’m being talked about.

I survived for about 45 minutes, bought a few things and quickly left.

I don’t ever expect the red carpet treatment but I was brought up to be decent to any person I meet regardless of race, religion, or looks, etc. The ethnocentric behavior that multiple cultures have only contributes to increasing tensions between groups.

I understand that each cultural group wants to “stick together.” I grew up in a Lithuanian community; I get it. But there’s a difference between taking pride in who you are and where you came from and treating that as better than everyone else. And this “holier than thou” mentality gets passed down from generation to generation and I can only hope that, one day, there will be more people who are around who look beyond the surface.

Sometimes I feel like we have to have kids in order to bring more people like that into our world.

Perfecting the Perfect (Illusions)

06.22.2010

My sister sent me this video the other day and I want to post it up because I think its message is incredibly important – especially for girls and women.

I consider one of my best friends and me to be some of the worst offenders in the self-hate department. We’ve been friends since high school and I can’t tell you how many conversations we’ve had while growing up about how much we hated ourselves and how much we wished we looked like the models and actresses we saw. It’s disheartening to have to look in the mirror and see a reflection of flaws when you see nothing of the sort in movies, TV or magazines. It’s only when you’re older and more mature that you start to realize how that business works and, hopefully, it becomes easier to remind yourself that it’s not real. But I can’t say that I don’t have my moments…

I hope that mothers who have daughters especially take note of the message of this video because, at the end of the day, it’s your voice and support of who they are that is going to be needed desperately as a weapon to fight against the conflicting images and messages that are blasted across the pages and screens. (This, of course, goes for boys too with an emphasis on the father’s voice.)[1]

---

[1] http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYhCn0jf46U

Can't We Have A Conditional Relationship?

06.21.2010

A screening of Iron Man 2 was playing at Rob’s work tonight and so he took me to go see it knowing that it was one of my anticipated movies of the summer. I thoroughly enjoyed myself and a lady’s eyes can never get tired of looking at good ol’ Mr. Robert Downey, Jr.

Next to us sat a co-worker of Rob’s who had brought her adorable little boy. He was about 5 years-old, maybe even 4 (I’m horrible at judging kids’ ages) and I figured the movie must’ve been such a treat for him to see. Rob often tells me that superheroes and comic books are greatly important to little boys.

I found myself wishing that it were normal to have a kid conditionally. I know that totally defeats the purpose of parenting and bonding, etc., etc. But, it would be nice to enjoy the child when I wanted to and then he/she could just, you know, “go back.” Uh, “Where?” you ask? I don’t know. I haven’t figured that part out yet.

The thing is, I really do like and enjoy kids. And, oddly, most kids take to me. I find a kinship with them. I feel like my true silly of a personality can come out with them and no one passes judgment on me. I can play with imaginary friends, build castles out of couch cushions, and become a knight with a shield and a sword fighting off dragons. I LOVE this kind of stuff. I just don’t want the responsibility of having to give up so much of my time to do all the “extras” that involve kids (dealing with tantrums, negotiations, toys everywhere, food issues…I could keep going…)

I know you gotta take the good with the bad. I understand that logically. But I like coming and going as I please. I like having to only worry about myself, my husband, and the cats. I like being able to sleep in if I want to. I like not having to worry about meltdowns at a supermarket and watching everyone stare at me like I’m the worst mother in the world.

But I also understand that in 10 years from now, there’s a strong chance I’ll reflect on my 30s with great regrets like I do when I reflect on my 20s. I never thought I’d get married and I never wanted a family of my own. I was always career oriented though I did absolutely nothing to take any steps to reach my career goals (though I'm doing that now). What I did instead was meet an amazing man who wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. That threw a wrench into my whole vision of how I saw my future but I wouldn’t trade any decisions that led me to him for anything in the world.

Couldn’t a child affect in the same way?

"Tears for a Good Father" Article

06.20.2010

I was reading the paper this morning and came across this really touching story that I wanted to share especially because it’s quite a propos of my entry from a few days ago.

Tears for a Good Father / by Harlan Coben[1]

This may seem like a sad story, but it’s not.

“I found this upstairs.” My 16-year-old daughter Charlotte, the oldest of my four kids, enters the kitchen and hands me the 40-year-old photograph. “Is that you?”

“Yep,” I say. “I had hair once.”

It is a picture of my father and me standing on the front lawn at our house in Livingston, N.J. I look at my father in this photograph. My mom used to say that he was a dead ringer for Victor Mature, Dean Martin (“If only your father would get his teeth fixed”), and, mostly, Jerry Orbach. He was a big man, and in this photograph, with his smile wide, he looks strong and confident. I don’t remember the picture being taken. I wish I did, because I look pretty darned happy snuggled against him.

Then, without warning—still holding the old photograph, Charlotte by my shoulder—I burst into tears. I don’t mean well up or sniffle or feel tears running down my face or even cry. I mean head-down, body-wracking sobs. My daughter backs away for a moment, probably scared. I don’t think she has seen me cry before. Come to think of it, I don’t think I ever saw my father cry either.

I flash to the little things about him. The polyester double-knit shorts that were always too snug, like he was competing at Wimbledon in 1978. The too-big sunglasses that looked like he might have stolen them from Sophia Loren. I remember when he tried a fanny pack (that was a big no), the smell of his Old Spice, the way he steered the car with his wrists and whistled off-key, the AM news station playing in the steamed bathroom when he shaved, the white tube socks pulled up too high, the CB radio he loved for maybe four months. I remember how bad he was with tools and how that still didn’t stop him from taking on home projects best left to professionals or how every Sunday he would walk to Livingston Bagel or take me to Seymour’s Luncheonette for a milkshake and a pack of baseball cards. And I remember the way his cheek felt when I kissed him hello or goodbye, as I always did, no matter who was around, because that’s what we did.

I look at the 40-year-old photograph and see him so young, but of course he would never have a chance to grow old. I remember buying him an oversize Father’s Day card in 1988. For some odd reason, I bought it early. It was sitting near me when my mother called to tell me that my father had just called from his hotel room in Florida. He was there on business, and he felt chest pains. When I get him on the line, he puts on a brave front and tells me not to worry, he is fine.

That would be the last time I ever talked to him.

So what lessons did I learn when he died of a heart attack at 59? Unfortunately, the great insights are often the great clichés: Life goes by fast, don’t waste a moment, tell the ones you love how you feel, show affection every chance you get—because I would give anything to kiss that cheek just one more time.

I am still gripping the photograph and sobbing. I should make myself stop, but this feels, if not good, right. It’s been too long. My daughter, not sure what to do, tentatively approaches. She puts her arms around my shoulders and tries to quiet me.

“I know you miss him,” she says to me.

And I do. Still. Every day.

Wait. Didn’t I say this wasn’t a sad story?

So here’s the uplifting part: It’s okay to feel this pain. In fact, when you’ve been as lucky as I was in the father department, it would be an outrage not to cry. You can’t have an up without a down, a right without a left, a back without a front—or a happy without a sad. This is the price you pay for having a great father. You get the wonder, the joy, the tender moments—and you get the tears at the end, too.

My father, Carl Gerald Coben, is worth the tears. I hope that one day, to my children, I’ll be worth them, too. And if your father is worth them, let him know.

As the old proverb says, “When a father gives to his son, they both laugh. When a son gives to his father, they both cry.”

Happy Father’s Day, everyone.

---

[1] http://www.parade.com/news/backpage/harlan-coben/100620-tears-for-a-good-father.html

Kids Say the Darndest Things

06.19.2010

I’m sure we can all agree kids say the darndest things. One of the things that I absolutely love about kids is their raw humor. They may not know they’re being funny or they may not mean to be funny but they often have a way of saying the right (funny) thing at the right time.

Rob took me on a summer solstice hike this evening because I’ve been whining that we don’t do enough outdoor activities. There were a few kids on the hike and at one point, a little girl of about 5 says to her dad, “It feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere.” And without skipping a beat, her brother, of about 7, says in a beautifully sarcastic tone, “If we’re in the middle of nowhere, then why can you see telephone poles?”

Rob and I got a good chuckle out of this because, well, it is logical, right? But, as Rob pointed out, it’s also such a sibling thing to say and do. Ahh…the joys of siblings.

So, in the spirit of kids saying the darndest things, I’m including some anecdotes that came to me via e-mail about kids and their answers to questions. You may have seen them already yourself. In full disclosure, I have NO idea about the validity of these answers (except for the very last one because a student wrote something similar about me once when I was teaching). Enjoy!

TEACHER: Donald, what is the chemical formula for water?

DONALD: H I J K L M N O.

TEACHER: What are you talking about?

DONALD: Yesterday you said it's H to O.

TEACHER: Millie, give me a sentence starting with ' I. '

MILLIE: I is...

TEACHER: No, Millie..... Always say, 'I am.'

MILLIE: All right... 'I am the ninth letter of the alphabet.'

TEACHER: Now, Simon, tell me frankly, do you say prayers before eating?

SIMON: No sir, I don't have to, my Mom is a good cook.

TEACHER: Clyde, your composition on 'My Dog' is exactly the same as your brother's. Did you copy his?

CLYDE: No, sir. It's the same dog.

TEACHER: Harold, what do you call a person who keeps on talking when people are no longer interested?

HAROLD: A teacher.

Life Magazine's Iconic Photo

06.18.2010

We’ve all seen this picture; it’s iconic.[1] I wrote about it in a paper for a class about images and how transformative they can be and this photograph was as equally transformative as the images from JFK’s assassination or the first footprint on the moon. The miracle of birth truly is a miracle when you think about it. When you break it all down, the fact that there is only 1 day out of an entire month that a woman can conceive, it’s amazing that anyone actually does conceive. And, despite the little issue of that one window of opportunity, there are all these other factors that have to be in place in order for it to occur.

I wanted to write about this photograph so as to be reminded of the fragility of who we are and from where we came. And not only the fragility but of the mystery too. Yes, science can explain the how and the why (in terms of what sequence of events need to occur for conception), but there is still quite a bit of the unknown behind it all.

When a family decides to have a baby, I would like to think that it is for all the right reasons, but, as I’ve explored before, I don’t necessarily think that’s often the case. This picture reminds me how our fragility (emotional or physical) can be traced from the very beginning and by bringing a child into the world we should welcome this fragility and cherish it. We all put affronts that we’re one way or another way or we push our loved ones away because we’re afraid to be dependent or vulnerable, and we teach this (often nonverbally) to our children…but our dependence on each other starts at the moment of conception and never truly goes away. Yes, we should teach children to be self-sufficient and functioning adults (because you won’t be there to wipe up every boo-boo), but our fragility stays with us. And our responsibility to care for someone (or something) never goes away either which is why I wish more people would consider looking at this photograph and ask themselves: Am I truly ready for this?

---

[1] I found the image by going to Google/Images and typing in “life magazine baby photo.”

Has "Girl Power" Gone Too Far?

06.17.2010

In the middle of grad school, I decided to take an adolescent psychology class to complete some pre-reqs for a secondary credential thinking that I’d give teaching one last try. It wasn’t until 1½ year later after many meltdowns I turned to my then fiancée and said, “I can’t do this. I don’t know what I’m going to do, but it’s not this.” Of all the education classes that I had taken up to that point, the two most beneficial were a technology-based course and the adolescent psychology course.

One of the books I read was Real Boys: Rescuing Our Sons from the Myths of Boyhood by William Pollack (1998). Event though the book can be labeled as pop psychology, I found it to be incredibly beneficial and it really opened up my eyes to the world of boys. I grew up without a father and very little male influence in my life so the world of testosterone is both a fascinating one and one that often scares me. I’ve gotten better over the past 9 years, thanks to my husband’s patience, but, nonetheless, it’s a relatively foreign territory for me.

I grew up in a world that emphasized “girl power” and while attending an all girls high school this was definitely a mantra. But what this book helped me realize is that in the process of society focusing on “girl power,” the boys got left behind. “Recent studies…show that not only is boys’ self-esteem more fragile than that of girls and that boys’ confidence as learners is impaired but also that boys are substantially more likely to endure disciplinary problems, be suspended from classes, or actually drop out from school entirely.” It continues, “…statistics now tell us that boys are up to three times more likely than girls to be the victim of a violent crime (other than sexual assault) and between four to six times more likely to commit suicide.”[1]

How many times have you seen in person or on TV/in movies, adults telling little boys to stop crying because it makes them look like a “sissy?” What this book points out is that just because a boy is a boy, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t have fears or concerns. And starting at an early age, society labels boys a particular way and they are “trained” to grow up and be a certain way: the providers, the strong-ones, to have emotional-containment, etc. I’ve seen many times that when a man has more emotion than “normal,” he’s immediately labeled as “gay.” Why? Why is a boy/man not allowed to cry and to feel?

There is a difference between teaching a boy that his fears and concerns are valid and letting him cry over “spilled milk.” I wouldn’t allow my little girl to cry for no reason or not reprimand her for throwing a tantrum to get her way. These are educational moments; moments to help the child become a better person and to learn that sometimes things just are the way that they are and crying over them isn’t going to change the situation. But, e.g., if a boy wakes up from a scary dream, why do some parents tell the boy to “man up?” To any little kid, a scary dream is just that: scary. Hell, I get nightmares all the time and it scares the crap out of me when I wake up in the middle of the night and I’m sweating.

I think it’s important to remember that each gender has strengths and weaknesses but most importantly each person has strengths and weaknesses and that’s what should be focused on and worked on. Look at the high percentage of Asian men killing themselves because they can’t keep up with the demands on them that society has brought about. These “demands” and images of perfection are destroying the essence of who we are: being human.

---

[1] Pollack, William, Real Boys, p. xxiii.

Sex and The City 2 and the Neighbors

06.16.2010

There are moments in life where the spirit moves you. Literally.

Back to Sex and the City 2 for a moment and an issue that really hit home that, for whatever reason (probably wanting to hide from myself), I didn’t want to admit bugged me as much as it did. If you read my “Unexpected Detours” entry, you know that I don’t do well with emotions.

The characters of Carrie and Big don’t want children. They remind each other throughout the movie that it’s just the two of them and, at the beginning of the movie, they tell a couple at a wedding about how, despite loving children, having them just isn’t who they are as a couple.

There’s definitely a part of me that gets that. And scarily so. But as the movie progressed and showed their daily schedule of ordering in or going out to their favorite restaurants, or Big settling on the couch for the evening and she settling in next to him…it got me thinking. Their home had amazing décor that will never have drawings in crayon on them. And that’s OK. They have the luxury of going out whenever and for however long they want. And that’s fine too (and something I thoroughly enjoy doing with my husband). But, I got a sense from these scenes that there was very much something missing.

During the scene where Carrie gives Big an engraved watch for their anniversary, I felt a sadness come over me. The engraving was about how it was just going to be the two of them for the rest of their lives. And as happy as that seemed to make them I suddenly realized that if one of them died, that’s it. The memories they’ve created together would continuously remain in her or his memory bank. Alone.

Well, being the great emotional pusher-asider that I am, I pushed those thoughts out of my mind. Until today.

I have lived in the same building for 27 years. If I’m still here in 3 years, I can celebrate 30 years; not a milestone I really want to achieve. (Perhaps I’ll blog about the reasons someday.) As you can imagine, living in a place for this long, you get to know your neighbors. Many people with whom I grew up still live in the building including the neighbors with whom we share a patio fence.

These particular neighbors and my family were never close but they are very much a part of my childhood. They would keep to themselves and even their kids were recluses and the mother kind of scared me. I think there was a lot of pain behind her eyes and her gruff behavior but, as a kid, you just know what scares you.

I noticed a few months ago that it had been at least a year ½ that I last saw the mother and I got confirmation today that she passed away about a year ago. The first thought that came to my mind was the anniversary watch scene from Sex and the City 2. Even though my neighbors aren’t necessarily the friendliest and kept to themselves, they were a family of 4 with their own rituals, traditions, and memories.

I have noticed that the son comes over at least 2-3 times a week to be with his dad who, I have to say, hasn’t been looking well himself lately. But…what he has is a son (and daughter) and shared memories to help with the pain of having lost his partner.

The idea of having a/n (adult) child to hold on to in times of trouble, in times of loneliness if, God forbid, you lose your partner…it’s the common bond that ties you. And, strangely, in this context, having a child doesn’t scare me as much as living a life alone without the love of my life were I to ever lose him.

Didn't I Just Wake Up?

06.15.2010

Today was one of those days where I woke up and the next thing I know it was 3 pm. Why is it as we get older, time slips by faster than when you’re younger? It’s not fair.

It was also one of those days where I found it difficult to get motivated. I’ve been having a lot of those days and, I suspect, it mainly has to do with the fact that I’ve been eating like crap lately. You truly are what you eat and it affects your mood, your brain function, sleep patters, etc.

It’s definitely during these moments, these kinds of days and weeks, I feel like a child would be getting mixed messages from me which would, of course, mess them up. I talk about how important health is to me but I’ve completely fallen off the wagon of a consistent exercise schedule or planning my meals which is one of the key ingredients to losing weight (something that hasn’t happened for me in months).

I guess I should remind myself that though the mixed messages might be doing some damage, the larger picture is teaching the child that fluctuations in schedule occur constantly and the best that you can is the best that you can do. I try to exercise when I can…so I guess that’s a lesson in itself. I might be out of balance on some things…but I’m working on it. And that’s what a kid needs to learn: To not stop trying.

Sex and the City 2

06.14.2010

Sometimes we find a connection to things in the least expected places and at the least expected times. For reasons I won’t go into, my sister and I had the luck of having the afternoon free so we decided to grab the bull by the horns and finally go see the movie Sex and the City 2.

Now, I never watched the show when it was on TV. In fact, I loathed hearing about it and the only reason I saw the first movie is because my mother-in-law invited me and since we occasionally are movie buddies, I figured I didn’t want to turn down an opportunity to go see a movie with her. Plus, I saw it while my sister was in Korea for a year and I decided that in honor of her, a devout follower of the show, I would go see it. I ended up really liking the movie and since then will catch an episode here and there on cable and I begrudgingly have to admit that it’s a fun show.

Anyway, there’s a part in Sex and the City 2 where the characters Miranda and Charlotte are sitting at a bar and talking mom to mom. Miranda tells Charlotte to open up about motherhood and Charlotte, staying true to form, wouldn’t admit that anything was wrong. Then Miranda uttered words I never thought I would ever hear another woman say (other than maybe me):

“I love Bradley [her son]. Don’t get me wrong, I love him. But I miss my job. Being a mom is not enough.”

I actually started to well up at this part because for the first time, I didn’t feel alone.

Biology vs. Ideology

06.13.2010

I saw a friend’s posting recently of her and her kids and their family. The photos included your typical family vacation, family outings, family with friends, etc. But there was one particular photo that caught my attention. It was, like I said, your typical picture of mom with her kids and a friend with the her own kid, but they were all hanging out on the carpet of someone’s house. As the kids crawled around and the mom’s looked at the camera, I got such a sense of contentment from the photo. Not contentment on my side but just that the people in the photo looked really happy to be where they were doing what they were doing.

I found myself jealous. I found myself jealous because they seemed so happy with their decision…so happy to have friends and family with children around them. I have so many memories like that growing up and, when our time comes to end our journey in this lifetime, it’s not the days we had at our jobs that we’ll remember or how much money’s in our bank account. Not that I speak from experience, cause I haven’t knocked on death’s door, but I’m imagining that one would remember the moments that are more meaningful than remembering the sum total of your bank account. But what do I know? My point is, I found myself wishing that I had those meaningful memories to be able to pass on down to my own children and, almost instantaneously, a heaviness came over me. I can’t reconcile what is obviously innate with my ideological thoughts. And I’m just continuing to meditate on these thoughts because I am desperate for a sign to point me in the right direction. People say, “You’ll know one day. You’ll wake up and you’ll know.” But no one EVER told me that I would have this fierce internal struggle between what is biological and what is ideological. Figures this would happen to me.

Unhealthy Toxins in Your Home

06.12.2010

I have wanted to write about this topic for a while but I had to do a bit of research to compile my data. I found out about something called “VOC” some years back and I feel this is a good forum to write about it.

VOC stands for “volatile organic compound” and it “refers to organic chemical compounds which have significant vapor pressures and which can affect the environment and human health. VOCs are numerous, varied and ubiquitous. Although VOCs include both man-made and naturally occurring chemical compounds, it is the anthropogenic VOCs that are regulated, especially for indoors where concentrations can be highest. VOCs are typically not acutely toxic but have chronic affects.”[1]

I discovered that paint has an enormous amount of toxins and the affects of inhaling these toxins are horrendous. The air inside our homes is more polluted that the outdoor air (according to the EPA) and is considered to be one of the top 5 hazards to human health.[2]

One of the biggest toxic agents in paint is “ethylene glycol.” This is “a solvent used in latex paints [and] is listed as a hazardous substance and a toxic air contaminant under many federal and state regulations. A clear, colorless, odorless liquid, ethylene glycol and its vapor can be toxic to humans. Exposure may cause irritation to the skin, eyes, nose, throat and lungs, and allergic reactions are possible. Overexposure could lead to nausea, vomiting, drowsiness, coma, and respiratory failure. Repeated overexposure can permanently damage the kidneys. Among major latex paint brand, the full line of Dunn-Edwards paints is ethylene glycol-free.”[3]

See my second footnote to link to a site that includes a list of alternative paint companies that you can buy from that have low VOCs in their product or none at all. Last year, I bought paint made by The Fresh Air Choice (no VOCs) at Home Depot and am very pleased with the product. The only downside is that it is more expensive and you can only purchase the paint in gallons (at least as of spring ’09). I was a bit peeved at this cause I only needed a little bit of paint for my kitchen but the desire to try out the paint AND have low-VOCs in an area where I’m constantly cooking ended up overshadowing the price. And I’ve gotten several comments on the color (it’s a pale yellow) and how it looks.

I know the higher price is a deterrent for most people but take into consideration the long-term affects of inhaling toxins. You can spend a little more money now but know that you’re limiting the toxins you bring into your home or you can spend that money later when you’re older on medical care. I think especially where little kids are concerned (and if you’re getting a nursery ready, take heed!) you’d want to start them right as much as possible.

---

[1] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Volatile_organic_compound

[2] http://www.eartheasy.com/live_nontoxic_paints.htm

[3] http://www.eartheasy.com/live_nontoxic_paints.htm

Do You Have $222,360?

06.11.2010

So if I needed any more ammunition to add to my worry about having a child, I open up my yahoo page to be faced with the following article: (Sigh….)

Cost of Raising a Child Ticks Up

by Sue Shellenbarger / Friday, June 11, 2010

Provided by the Wall Street Journal

A child born in 2009 will cost nearly a quarter of a million dollars, or about $222,360, to raise to maturity, up a little less than 1% from 2008, the Agriculture Department said Wednesday in its annual report on the average cost of raising a child. (The department runs the survey to help courts and state governments set child-support guidelines.) Expenses for child care, education and health care rose the most compared with 2008, while the cost of transportation for a child actually fell, the department said. Annual child-rearing expenses for the average middle-income, two-parent family range from $11,650 to $13,530, depending on the age of the child, the department says.

Child care accounts for 17% of the total spending, and education for 16% of the total. The cost of housing makes up nearly one-third of the total; this is gauged by the average cost of an additional bedroom. But the tally excludes any spending on kids over age 17, so it doesn't include one of the biggest and fastest-growing single financial outlays many parents make: the cost of sending your child through college. Higher-education costs aren't included, the department says.

Families in the Northeast have the highest costs, followed by cities in the West, then cities in the Midwest. Families in rural areas and in Southern cities have the lowest child-rearing costs.

For families with many kids, however, there is some good news: The more children you have, the less it costs to raise each one. These economics of scale deliver 22% savings per child for families with three or more children. That is because kids can share a bedroom, hand down clothing and toys to each other, and consume food purchased in bulk quantities, reducing costs. Also, private schools and child-care centers may offer sibling discounts. The data is compiled based on spending by 11,800 two-parent families and 3,350 single parents with at least one child under 18 living at home.

Based on previous reports by the department, the overall cost of raising a child rose 15% in inflation-adjusted dollars between 1960 and 2008. The increase has been driven largely by sharp increases in health-care, child-care and education costs, the department says. Interestingly, clothing and food costs have fallen, perhaps because of more efficient mass production of food and reduced costs of manufacturing clothing.

Readers, yesterday, the discussion turned to whether or not it's possible to raise a family on one salary. Does a report like this help in making that kind of decision or in planning your savings?[1]

---

[1] http://finance.yahoo.com/family-home/article/109765/cost-of-raising-a-child-ticks-up?mod=family-kids_parents

Leaving Children in a Car

06.10.2010

While waiting for my sister at the doctor’s office the other day, I sat staring at the magazine choices and debated whether to read about the new “100 NEW ways to orgasm” on the latest Cosmo magazine (I swear they recycle their headlines) or pick up a Parenting magazine (June 2010). Since I’m not blogging about orgasms (though that would probably get me noticed), I decided that it was probably best to pick up the Parenting magazine so as to have a blog topic.

I read an article about a phenomenon that’s occurring at a rapid rate of parents accidentally leaving their children in their cars and, as a result, killing them.

I, like most I’m sure, immediately jumped to conclusions making all kinds of judgments about the parent (usually a mom) and how unfit she was. But the more I read about the circumstances under which such devastating situations occur, a real fear began to grow within me. A fear stemming from the fact that I recognized the stress that a mother was under and the fact that I could so easily see myself falling into the same trap.

The journalist in the article wrote about how most of these children’s deaths occurred because the parent in charge at the time had a random change in routine at the last minute and, as a result, had no visual cues in the car to help her recognize that her child was in the car. Even scarier, is that the article discussed the very real difference between our brains’ short-term memory and long-term memory. In each situation that the journalist looked at, the mother was under enormous stress and the sudden change in routine created an imbalance in the memory department even creating a false memory of the normal routine took place.

For example, one mother, normally took both of her children to day care together never taking them separately – even if one child was sick in which case both children stayed home. But one morning, she and her husband decided that he would be the one to stay home from work and that she would take the healthy child to day care. Stressed about her work and the amount of time she had to take off of work because of the other child’s illness coupled with the fact that her child in the car fell asleep and so she had no audio cues that he was in the car, she completely forgot to take her child to day care. She went through a day’s work and, at the end of the day, drove to the day care center to pick up her child upon where she was told that he was never brought in. At this point she realized he was in the car the entire day and ran to her car only to find his limp body.

Apparently it only takes 15 minutes for a child’s temperature to reach deadly degrees and kill him/her. Children have died when it’s only in the 50s outside. The fact is, the car heats up faster and hotter than outside. And cracking a window open does little to help. Bottom line: it’s just not safe to leave a child in the car.

And this could totally happen to me. My mind is constantly all over the place and if I’m going down a street on my way to Place B but it’s a route I usually take to Place A, I have found myself headed toward Place A while meaning to go to Place B. It’s habit and my body works on auto-pilot. And reading such a story as in Parenting magazine scares me because it’s a very real situation that could happen to me.

One of the solutions that I found helpful is to keep a stuffed doll/animal, etc. in the child’s seat and place it in the front seat with you whenever the child is in the car. This would serve as a visual reminder that your kid is in the car with you. Another suggestion is to always put your things (purse, briefcase, etc.) in the backseat so that regardless of where you’re going you always have to open the back door to get your stuff. A third suggestion I really liked was to put the child’s seat behind the passenger seat so you can see it in your rear-view mirror. You can also buy bell-like equipment that go off when you leave your kid in the car, but they’re kinda expensive. I like the previous suggestions better.