Monday, May 31, 2010

The Nitty-Gritty of New York City

This Memorial Day weekend, we decided to go in a bold, daring (or perhaps just plain crazy--I'll let you be the judge) new direction...NORTH. That is, we joined another family and headed to New York City for a few days on an adventure. Really, all we had to do to get the kids on board was mention the magic phrase "leaving school early" and the Hype Level went through the roof before we even departed our neighborhood. Then there was stopping to pick Dad up at work (which is apparently super-fun), and the Harbor Tunnel in Baltimore, (which they just love, no matter how many times we go there), and the Delaware Memorial Bridge (ooh, look at the...tall cables! whatever, they are so easily impressed!) By the time we actually reached our hotel, you would swear we live in the middle of a cornfield, keep them locked in the basement, and never take them anywhere.  These are actual words from Riley's mouth: "Wow, look at this carpet...and the view from these windows (which was the parking lot, by the way)...and these plants! This hotel ROCKS!"  The party vibe continued as we allowed them to choose dinner from the vending machine, and stay up late to swim in the hotel's indoor/outdoor pool. Hey, they were living it up to the extreme, I tell you!

And did I mention, that was just New Jersey! The next morning we had breakfast at the hotel with our friends (All-You-Can-Eat-Buffet, their 5 favorite words in the entire English language) to strategize, then headed into the city through the Holland Tunnel (waving at the Statue of Liberty, of course). And from then on, it was just a dizzying whirlwind of new experiences to soak in, one after the other...

Beginning with: first ever cab ride for the kids (with a TV to watch in the backseat--probably so you are at least somewhat distracted from the illegal, obnoxious and borderline-sociopathic driving going on all around you--more on that below)
American Museum of Natural History (complete with Planetarium show--extremely cool!)
Second cab ride (featuring white knuckles and frightened gasping from us, and repeated near-grazings of pedestrians and bumpers and even a lovely f*** you from our maniac cabbie...at least he wasn't cursing AT us, but Derek was properly horrified anyway)
Walking around Soho and Chinatown, drinking in the sights and smells (in a good way, in this case!)
Dinner--the most excellent pizza ever at Sofia's in Little Italy
Mouth-wateringly delicious gelato and cannoli at Ferrara
And to top off our evening: a teeth-gritting hour of honking and inching forward and stopping (repeat) to get back out of the city. For the first time I can ever remember, I came SOOO close to calling someone a jack*** in front of my children (well, he was trying to shove his way in between my friends' car and mine--fuhgeddaboutit!). I did manage to swallow those words and just yell, "Bite me!" instead (also a first, and I'm not sure if Derek was more amused or scandalized).

So that was Day 1 of our New York field trip. We were tired, we were dirty, but we were satisfied.
Next: "Sunday in the City" (Also known as: Believe it or not, we went back for more!)

Wednesday, May 26, 2010

A Wrinkle in Time...

The school year is drawing to a close once again (hallelujah!), and for the most part, things have been chugging along pretty smoothly for the boys. Every day they go off on the bus; they presumably learn some useful things for several hours; then they come home ready to eat a wholesome snack while regaling Mom with stories about their day (or maybe I'm just dreaming that last part--in reality they grab a cereal bar, possibly yell "hi Mom", and slam back out the door to sprint around the yard and burn off their pent-up educational energy). Eventually they stumble in, sweaty and tired, to face their daily dose of Reading and Math homework. And herein lies our little scholastic wrinkle:  up to 4th grade, reading material had always been sent home for each week's activities. But this year, for the first time, Derek has the responsibility of choosing an appropriate-level book for himself.

This was all well and good--I thought--until his teacher recently informed him that he ought to be reading more challenging text. As in 6th or 7th-grade level.  Um, really? This poses some definite issues, as you can imagine...a 10-year old boy, whose maturity level encompasses potty humor, sports, and cartoon-video-games, is suddenly supposed to be delving into books written for Middle Schoolers? There are just SO many possibilities for disaster. I mean, there could be kissing! (gag) Or bad language! (although he coolly informed me that he's seen curse words in books before, and it's "no big deal". well, thank goodness for that!) Not to mention in-depth treatment of concepts like morality, interpersonal relationships, death...Oy.

Where to begin on this journey fraught with peril? One recommendation--according to Derek--that Teacher gave him was Sherlock Holmes. This was surprising to me, but I dutifully checked it out of the library  for Parental Perusal.  And here's an excerpt from page 1 of A Scandal in Bohemia: "He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They were admirable things for the observer--excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives and actions.  But for the trained reasoner to admit such intrusions into his own delicate and finely adjusted temperament was to introduce a distracting factor which might throw a doubt upon all his mental results." Yeah, I'll just hand that right over to him for a little light reading before bed.

Maybe there's a comic book version somewhere out there; until then, I think we'll hightail it back to the safe world of Percy Jackson and mythical Greek monsters, thank you very much!

Monday, May 24, 2010

Goodbye, PBS...hello TNT?

I had one of those "the Past is repeating itself" flashbacks recently, while watching TV, of all things. You see, when I was really little --maybe 3 or 4--I used to sit with my dad while he watched Star Trek...the original one, with super-cheesy William "Kirk" Shatner and pointy-eared Leonard Nimoy and perpetually over-acting "I'm giving her all I can, Captain" Scotty, and of course "Dammit, Jim" Dr. Bones. Obviously, it was all WAAAY over my head. So I asked approximately a million questions during the show, which made my father understandably nuts. "Daddy, how did those people disappear? Why are they shooting at those monsters? Where are they going in their spaceship? What's a Klingon?" Mostly what I remember, to tell you the truth, is my dad begging me, through gritted teeth, to "just watch, and you'll find out!" (as if it would all magically make sense to me then!)

Skip forward to present day, where I like to have the television on as background entertainment/distraction while I'm exercising. I happened to be lifting weights after the kids got home from school, and had popped in a DVD of the show Leverage. Both boys had been outside, but suddenly Riley wandered in, sweaty and tired, looking to plop himself down on the couch and rest for a while. His standard line, when he sees me working out in front of the TV is:  "Mom, is that an adult show you're watching?"...(no, no, not that kind of adult show! he means is there any language or violence he shouldn't see.) I did a quick mental Mom Ratings Review (let's see: occasional fist-fight, high-tech criminal activity, mild curse words) then decided to let him watch for a while. (I'm very well-practiced at hitting the Stop button fast when necessary!) Then the questions started:  "Why did she take that man's bag? How are they going to get out of there? Are those the bad guys?" Thank goodness for the technological age in which we live, since I was able to Pause, and say "okay, listen carefully, and I'll explain..." The basic premise is that a group of professional thieves and con artists bands together to achieve justice--albeit through often illegal means--for those who have been wronged in some way. A modern-day Robin Hood saga, if you will. Riley absorbed my brief summary and proclaimed, "Oh, well it's good that they're helping people who've been hurt!" (we'll discuss the Moral Dilemma aspect another time, perhaps...)

Then Derek joined us, and I had to repeat the explanation and recap our story so far. But the two of them sat, transfixed, through one episode...and immediately requested that we start another one. It seems like just last week I was recording episodes of Handy Manny and Curious George for them, and now we're moving on to Caper Crime dramas? Yikes! Although I don't want them to stay little kids forever, sometimes I do wish for a temporary Rewind button back to the good old Disney Days...

Thursday, May 20, 2010

I can see clearly now...

Could someone please tell me--because this is the burning question of the week--do ALL 10-year old boys get hit in the face on a daily basis or is it just my son? It's like he has a juicy red target painted right on his nose, saying "please, please chuck something my way, really hard!" You name it, he's taken it right in the schnoz: elbows, basketballs, our 130-pound neighbor (yes, the whole kid landed on Derek's head; don't ask me how). And what, incidentally, does Derek wear across the middle of his face? That's right: glasses. And what happens when aforementioned rigid body part or flying projectile meets delicate spectacles? Oh, a lovely variety of things. Nosepieces pop off and become lost in the grass. Earpieces get bent outward at funny angles, making it impossible to secure them to the head. Whatever the damage, it results in Mom glaring at Derek, heaving a heavy, long-suffering sigh, and carting him to the Eyeglass Emporium to get them patched up...again. (oh, and in the car he is treated to the "your glasses cost $400 and you need to be careful with them!" speech...again.)

But today was a whole new disaster. When I walked into Derek's 4th-grade classroom to volunteer, his teacher greeted me with a sympathetic look rather than her usual beaming smile.  I knew it was going to be something BAD. I glanced over toward Derek's desk, where he was sitting, flushed pink from recess...with a suspiciously naked face and an exceedingly sad, guilty expression. By way of explanation, his teacher then proceeded to hand me a lens...and an earpiece...and the rest of his mangled pair of glasses. She gently, quietly (unnecessarily) added "we had a little accident." (I realize now that she was using  that soothing, calming tone professionals employ when they're talking someone down from a ledge...or convincing them not to throttle their son in front of his classmates.) "Six...months," I managed to spit out in a strangled voice, "that's how long he's had this pair."*

So now, we will attempt to find a Miracle Worker who can--what? hammer? weld? hot glue?--these pathetic frames back together. I should mention that Derek's face survived the collision just fine, aside from a small scratch, so that's a good thing. And the next set of glasses we buy for him will be made out of Kryptonite, even if I have to buy it from NASA myself...

*and the reason this pair was purchased in the first place? Riley sat on the last pair...aargh!

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

If reading's a crime, then...book him!

By the age of 7, I was already well on my way to becoming my fully-realized Nerd Self.  By that point I was a fluent reader, so I was always parked somewhere with my nose buried deep in a book. In fact, I remember my very exasperated mother used to implore me to "go outside and get some fresh air!" She probably was trying to tell me--in a kindly, maternal way--to"run around a little bit, my chubby, pale, Bookworm of a child!" So I would obediently take myself to the front yard, where I would plop down in the grass...and continue reading whatever story I was engrossed in that day. I'm not quite that bad as an adult, but I still read as much as possible...when I happen to be eating alone, when I'm winding down before bed...and when I'm brushing my teeth (although I don't recall exactly when I started this practice, it was a long long time ago; and let's face it, that 2-minute-oral-hygiene-routine is pretty darn boring, otherwise!)

It's no surprise to me, then, that Derek has become a Bookaholic as well. When we go into his room to roust him in the morning, we often find him in front of his window, using the early sunlight to read while he waits for his wakeup call. He brings a book to breakfast. He carries one in the car if we're going to be driving for more than 10 minutes. He tucks one into his backpack for any "downtime" he might encounter during his school day. He apparently holds conversations with another boy in his class, in which they discuss and critique and recommend things they've each read (4th-grade Book Club!).

And tonight, for the first time ever, I caught him secretly reading under the covers after he'd been officially tucked in for the night! (He was using a lightsaber-keychain-toy that he'd bought in Disney World last summer, which features a pulsating green light...nauseating!) "But it's such an exciting part, Mom!" he weakly protested when I nabbed him in the act. Then, being the forthright kid that he is, he admitted "I do this every night, to get more tired. Then at 9:30 I can fall asleep." Alrighty, then, Honest Abe.

But really, what could I do? He was a) reading a book purely for fun, outside of any school assignment and b) responsible enough to put it down and go to sleep at a reasonable hour. I think I will replace his strobe light with a more traditional clip-on Booklight....which I just happen to have on my nightstand for just such an emergency! Read on, little dude!

Monday, May 10, 2010

How was your day, honey?

Don't get me wrong, most days I'm very grateful for these precious moments in my sons' lives...when they're still young and sweet...and eager to talk to me at mealtimes. Right now we get detailed, lively reports of "who got in trouble in school" or "what the assembly was about" or sometimes "why I hate art class", and we don't even have to threaten their videogame-time to make them spill it! I realize that someday they will probably morph into sullen, unresponsive boys who will hunch over the table shoveling food into their mouths, emitting an occasional grunt or, at best, a monosyllabic response to any Parental Inquiry.

Tonight, though, it might have been better to replace the Youthful Chatterboxes with Silent Teenagers...since this is a sample of what passed for sparkling dinner conversation:

Derek: "We watched a video today about a musician, and the person had a German accent, so when he said 'I'm the greatest pianist in the world', it sounded like the greatest PENIS!" (cue hysterical laughter as he cracks himself up...)

Then later, when he had finished his fishsticks...and pasta salad...and potato salad...and pretzels, I asked him if he would like some nuts (I know, I really should have thought that one through!). He instantly replied, "But I already have some!"  And it must have been an Autopilot Error (you know, the ones that should stay in your head, NOT be said out loud?), because it was hardly out of his mouth before he turned around to face my Mom Glare and blurted, "Sorry!" Then he quickly added, "Well, we were talking about Lance Armstrong in class today!"  (Ooh, nice save, buddy...if there's a respectable way to interject testicles into polite dinnertime dialogue, I guess that would be it...

And as a fitting--not appropriate, mind you, but fitting--conclusion to the meal, Riley excused himself, and as he left the table, he made a strange croaking noise in his throat, giggled, and announced, "Oops, fake burp!"

From now on, I'm eating a nice, quiet, civilized dinner on the back porch...alone!

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

Random Riley Report...

It's been one of those weeks when I repeatedly have found myself staring at Riley, at a loss for words, while inside my head I'm thinking: "Are you 6...or 16?"

It began with the drama of a Brother Spat. (I don't recall the actual issue at stake, but I'm sure it was something extremely critical, like who got to go up the stairs first, or whose imaginary baseball team scored more fake runs, or some such nonsense.) This one quickly escalated into "GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" (Derek), which caused Riley to tearfully declare, "Derek hates me, I'm never playing with him again, this is the worst day ever!" (punctuated by sniffling and stomping, just to make sure we fully got the point.)

That should have been a big Red Flag for the prevailing emotional climate of the week; but on Tuesday, I pushed my luck anyway.  I chose to invoke a little-used Mom Clause, which we'll call Picture Day Prerogative. Now, 364-days of the year, I cover my eyes and let the boys wear whatever they want. But--call me crazy--for their school photos, I actually insisted on...MATCHING (you may feel free to gasp in shock and horror). Well, Riley had an absolute Fashion Meltdown right in front of my eyes. He had exactly 2 shirts that were acceptable, and the way he carried on, you would have thought either one was made of sandpaper, stitched together with roofing nails. There was sobbing.  There was lying on the ground in his underwear, declaring that he couldn't go to school. There was vociferous protest: "that one has a collar, it's soooo uncomfortable! (yes, he finally did go to school...and he was NOT naked! I swear I felt like calling the Press and telling them that Mr. Westman was ready for his closeup...)

Finally, thank goodness, the storm clouds lifted, and we got some vintage Riley by Wednesday. After school, he marched in and announced importantly, "I know the thing in the middle of a worm that helps it lay eggs...the clitellum!" Um...yay!  And I will sooo take your word for it!  Then as I was tucking him into bed, he said (randomly!), "You know, Mom, the Marinara Trench is as low as Mt. Everest is high!" Dude, that's awesome...but do you mean the Mariana Trench?  Much giggling--and a few pasta jokes--ensued.


We're all keeping our fingers crossed for a lot more laughing, and less Family Theater to round out the week. After earthworms and oceanic topography, I can't wait to hear what 1st grade has in store for us tomorrow! Stay tuned...(there may be a quiz : ) 

Monday, May 3, 2010

Vegging Out!

It's been about 2 years since I officially went over to the Veg Side (pause to raise a glass...of carrot juice), and in that time I've had to learn a delicate dance, as I quietly sneak meatless variations of our favorite dishes into our everyday fare, gently convert the previously-bean-phobic, and fearlessly experiment with all kinds of exotic condiments (green curry paste, anyone?). I must say, my house full of male Carnivores have been very patient and open-minded...which is a good thing, since the longer I live as a Vegetarian, the less I want to handle or cook meat at all.

As a matter of fact, since no one usually complains about the lack of dead animals in our diet, I sometimes forget to buy them for a while. Then we go to a social event of some kind, like yesterday, where the hosts have prepared a large hunk of BEEF. You should have seen my boys (big and small) salivating like cavemen when it came off the grill. I'm not exaggerating when I say: they practically wept with joy. I was subjected to a great deal of ribbing (ha ha!) about "not feeding my menfolk the kind of hearty food they need", blah, blah, blah. I just offered my "to each his own" peaceful smile, ate the delicious ziti and delightful salad, and stayed far, far away from the medium-rare-former-cow...

So today, I went to the chiropractor for a tuneup of my creaky, cranky neck. After poking and prodding a bit, he mentioned that there might be some mild pinching of the nerves in there, which could possibly be relieved by a supplement that supports collagen growth (thereby re-cushioning the disks). When I asked what it contained, he said, "manganese and Vitamin C".  Sounded harmless, and didn't cost much, so I agreed to try it for a while...right up until I had the bottle in my hand and got to read the tiny print on the label, where it listed ALL of the ingredients...these include (and I am NOT making this up!): bovine bone, bovine liver, veal bone, bovine kidney, bovine spleen, and ovine spleen, among other things.  Are you KIDDING ME? Why, why, WHY would I want to take a pill full of repulsive cow and sheep parts? I'm going to go out on a limb here, and say that even if I wasn't a Vegetarian, I would find this absolutely disgusting!  About the only way it could be worse, in my opinion, is if they had listed cow BUTT on the label.  Ew, ew, ew!  Needless to say, crunchy neck or not, I won't be popping the Cow Guts supplement. (And yes, I will be having a talk with the good doctor about springing this sort of unpleasant surprise on his patients in the future!)

Maybe my crackly disks and I will make a trip to Whole Foods, where we can safely browse the Vitamin Aisle, without the risk of being ambushed by hidden cows and sheep...wish me luck!