Surviving School Vacation Week - 2/18/09

All right, who's sick of school vacation? Quick show of hands...

If you're reading this, then you have successfully reached "hump day", the middle of February vacation week. If you're not reading this, then you are among the lucky that are frolicking with dolphins in a warmer climate or perhaps ditching an afternoon ski lesson for a leisurely massage or facial.

As for the rest of us...Hang on. You're almost home free.

February vacation must be a New England invention. In my native New Jersey, we had Christmas vacation and Easter vacation (back before the words Christmas and Easter were banned from school, now it's Winter and Spring Break). President’s Day was commemorated with just one single day. We Jersey-ites lump our founding fathers in with Columbus and MLK and everything else that warrants a mere three-day weekend. What prompted this region to stretch it to an entire week?

One friend explained that February vacation was born in order to save fuel costs for the schools. Hmmm, let's see. Winter. New England. Cold. Did they not plan for this? Another friend told me it was because so many families were pulling their kids out of school to go skiing for the week. Poor little Billy and Sally; We can't expect them to learn arithmetic and spelling while their friends are off skiing moguls and enjoying hot cocoa après ski, can we? We'll just go ahead and shut down the entire school instead.

Whatever the reason, February vacation is here to stay. So if you're not off at some exotic locale, you're just going to have to muddle through the next few days.

February vacation has both its good and its not-so-good points. It's good not waking up early for the bus. It’s not so good bribing or threatening your kids in order to make it through an entire spin class. It's good not packing school lunches. It's not so good answering the question, "Mom, what do we have to eat?" sixteen times a day. It's good to spend quality time with your children. It's so very, very not good taking them grocery shopping.

Play dates can be your best friend (when they are at someone else's house) or your worst enemy (when they are at yours). A sleepover can either be a godsend or a nightmare (see above). The local movie theater can also be your savior, but be prepared for everyone else in town to have the same brilliant idea. Purchase your tickets online, or prepare yourself to be fitted with a neck brace after sitting in the front row of "Hotel for Dogs".

I find that it’s all about balance. I’ll use some of this free time to take my children to the Institute of Contemporary Art and expose them to a little culture. And then another day we’ll stay home in our pajamas and have a "Lord of the Rings" movie marathon.

Call me clairvoyant: I predict that by the end of this week my house will be a shambles, the pantry will be bare, laundry will be piled higher than my husband and there will be a nearly empty wine bottle in my fridge.

Whatever gets you through the week.

The End Of Snuggling 2/11/09

It is time to ban snuggles from my house.

I don't mean the fabric softener with that creepy little bear on the label, and I don't mean that strange blanket with arms that's over-saturating the infomercial circuit these days. I'm talking about the practice of lying down next to my child at bedtime in order to help him relax and fall asleep.

I realize that my husband and I are completely to blame for falling into this routine. We "Ferberized" both our kids when they were little, allowing them to cry themselves to sleep for a few nights in order to learn how to comfort themselves and sleep peacefully on their own. Of course this was a much easier endeavor when the kids were too small to climb out of their cribs and come looking for us. Once they were in "big boy" beds it became all too easy for them to wander out of bed mere minutes after being tucked in, complaining that they couldn't sleep. My husband and I really tried to follow all the parenting books by "...calmly but firmly telling the child to return to his bed." But calm quickly turns to annoyance and then yelling after repeating, "Go to bed!" six or eight times. At this point you'll do anything to get that child to sleep.

Hence the snuggle was born. My youngest in particular seems to crave the comfort that comes from having one of his parents lie down next to him until he falls asleep. I can't fault him. As an infant he was nursed in our bed each night, something many families practice. He now equates security with having his parent's dragon breath wash over him as he sleeps.

Though the process of "snuggling" seems like a harmless enough thing, the practice takes its toll on our household when it's repeated night after night after night. Why? Because inevitably I fall asleep too. And there goes the rest of my evening.

I know other couples that spend those few precious hours catching up on each other's day, paying bills, watching television or reading a good book. When asked to "snuggle", I typically fall asleep myself, only to wake after an hour or more completely disoriented with a crick in my neck from contorting myself on a twin-sized bed. At this point, I have two choices: Shake off my sleepy haze and try to be productive, or just crawl into my own gloriously grown-up bed and go back to sleep. Usually, I choose the latter.
This wreaks havoc on my household. Clutter abounds on every surface, bills remain unpaid, and movies from the library accrue late fees.

And most recently, the final straw. One night, after snuggling with my child, I woke hours later in an exhausted haze. Clearly I was in no shape to be productive, so I stumbled into the bathroom to brush my teeth before bed. In the hazy darkness of the bathroom, I noticed that someone had left the toothpaste on the counter by the sink. I flipped off the cap, squeezed some on my toothbrush and began to brush. At this point, I became fully awake when I realized that what was on my toothbrush was most definitely NOT toothpaste. Spitting like a crazed llama I flipped on the light only to discover that I had begun brushing my teeth with antifungal cream.

Now, like most parents, I've had my rare instances of calling poison control for something my children have stuck in their mouths. However, I had not yet experienced the humiliation of calling them at eleven p.m. to confess that I'd brushed my teeth with antifungal cream. Luckily, the person working the hotline contained her giggles while assuring me that the toxicity level was quite low and that I probably wouldn't even suffer an upset stomach from what I had ingested. When I railed at my husband about the incident, his response was, "Be thankful it wasn't Preparation H!"

Farewell snuggles. You've served your purpose, but it is time to reclaim my life. My house will be clean, my bills will be paid and my teeth will be brushed with toothpaste every night.

Sick of Winter - 2/4/09

I am sick of winter.

There. I said it. I have absolutely no right to feel this way. It's February. I live in New England. It’s what’s to be expected this time of year. But dang! This is bordering on ridiculous. I have not seen my lawn since before Christmas. My shrubs are twisted and misshapen from the weight of all the snow. Have we been transported to Narnia, where it's winter all the time? Here comes the white witch with a box of Turkish Delight, her evil dwarf sidekick cackling with glee.

Personally, I blame Al Gore. He and his global warming have lulled us into a false sense of security. Sure, we've had snow these past few winters, but we've also had more than our share of freakishly warm days in the dead of winter, to the point where robins returned to my yard and hopeful crocus buds poked their heads out of the soil only to shriek in horror and return to their winter beds.

I'm not alone in this. While waiting at the pick-up line for my second grader, one mother commented "I hear we're supposed to get more snow next week," to which a group of us simultaneously groaned and rolled our eyes. We should be counting our blessings. With all the storms, our school has had only one delayed opening and one snow day. Still... I'd really like to re-fill my bird feeders without donning snow pants and sinking up to my knees in frozen concrete (or so it feels).

Let's not forget how much fun it is navigating our shopping carts through layers of slush and slop. That's a workout in itself. And hey, who doesn't love the lack of parking spaces at places like the YMCA or the mall or Shaws? Those adorable mountains of grey snow/sand/ice will be in the parking lot till April. Whoopee!

The Boston Globe ran a special feature in their lifestyle section all last week entitled, 'Why We Love Boston In Winter". Obviously, even the Globe knows their readers are sick of all the snow and ice if they need to be reminded that winter in Boston is a good thing. You might have a tough time convincing those folks whose cars have been towed during a snow emergency. Or buried completely by the plow. Not to mention all those people in Southie and East Boston who shovel out and have to mark their territory with lawn chairs and traffic cones and shopping carts. "Why We Love Boston in Winter?" Guess what. We don't!

Animals have it right. Hibernation is the way to go. Stuff yourself until you're loaded with fat, then take a nice long sleep, happily oblivious to the swirling snow and ice outside your den. Wake up just in time to see bluebirds twittering in the trees and bunnies frolicking through the fields.

As of this writing, I have no idea whether or not that lovable rodent Punxsutawney Phil will see his shadow or not, thereby "predicting" an end to or an extension of winter. I just know that I'm starting to feel like Bill Murray from that film 'Groundhog Day." Wake up. Get out of bed. Look out window. See snow falling. Groan in misery. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.
I'm going back to sleep. Wake me when the temperature gets above fifty degrees.

On "Slumdog" and "Mall Cop" 1/28/09

I am a movie person. Amongst my circle of friends, Maria is the music person, Julianne is the book person and I am the movie person. People frequently ask my opinion on films I've seen and look for recommendations on films that they should see. My love affair with the movies began when I was just a child, my dad carting my sisters and me to anything and everything. (Though I question some of those choices. He took us to see "2001: A Space Odyssey" twice and I still didn't get it.) Not limited to the theater, I watched whatever I could on our home television, enjoying Godzilla movies with the same enthusiasm as old Fred Astaire films. Attending a communications college in Boston allowed me to expand my film-going horizons with foreign films, animation festivals and the like.

It's this extensive film background which allowed me to appreciate the irony of seeing "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Paul Blart: Mall Cop" on the same weekend.

"Slumdog Millionaire" is a small-budget film that tells the story of Jamal, an orphan from Mumbai, India who has made it to the twenty million-rupee question on India's version of "Who Wants to Be A Millionaire". The film chronicles how Jamal makes it to the final question and his motivation for going on the program.

On the opposite end of the film spectrum, "Paul Blart: Mall Cop", is the tale of an overweight, sad sack of a security guard played by comic Kevin James. Paul dreams of becoming a State Trooper but a medical condition keeps him in store security. He spends his days patrolling the mall on his Segway, mooning over Amy, the owner of the new hair extension kiosk "UnbeWeavable". Paul's unsatisfying life is interrupted when thieves take over his mall with credit theft on their minds.

At this point it would be easy to resort to film snobbery and praise Oscar-nominated "Slumdog" to the heavens while trashing the mass-market "Paul Blart". But I'm an equal opportunity filmgoer. I appreciate both "It Happened One Night and "Night of the Living Dead". Most films I've seen have some redeeming value (I loved “City Slickers”, but "City Slickers 2"? What were they thinking?). On reflection, I discovered several parallels between "Slumdog" and "Paul Blart".

Both Jamal and Paul are presented with seemingly insurmountable challenges. Both characters are underestimated in their ability to meet these challenges. And finally, both characters rise to these challenges in order to save the woman they love.

Of course there are differences too. "Slumdog" is likely to take home quite a few Oscars next month, and while it's a finely crafted film, it's definitely not for kids. "Paul Blart" won't win any awards (okay, maybe a Kid's Choice Award) but the sight of Kevin James flying over the handles of his Segway into a mini-van is sure to make your children laugh. Regardless of your preference, both films will have you leaving the theater feeling uplifted. And with the way things are today, that’s a good thing.

But there can be too much of a good thing, so please… No “Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2”.

Spend Less, Save More 1/23/08

The word on everyone’s mind right now is “recession” and we are all feeling the pinch. Stocks are down, home prices are down and I don’t dare open the quarterly statements for my 401(k) investments. Our lives have suddenly taken on the lyrics from that old Kinks song “Low Budget”: “Times are hard but we’ll all survive…I’ve just got to learn to economize”.

It seems like wherever you turn there are articles and lists about how to cut back and live more thriftily. That being said, do I really need to come up with my own list of suggestions? Heck yes!

Are you ready? Here it is: Spend less. Save more.

What? You were expecting something radically different? Suze Orman I am not. Though I have culled some tips from friends and family (and a few of my own) that might make things just a little bit easier.

Financial experts will tell you that you should first establish a budget and stick to it. My husband and I try to do this each year (unsuccessfully). We go through our finances line item by line item until I am ready to poke him with a pencil. Then comes the dawning realization that we spend more than we make. At this point we shut off the computer, run upstairs and hide beneath the covers. It sounds strange, but it works for us.

A friend of mine loves to buy books. She reads at least one new book a week, and purchases most of them. Here’s a tip: There’s this big building in the center of our town. It’s called the Library. The people there are extremely nice and will let you borrow that same book for free. They also have the latest DVDs, CDs and some locations have video games (for the Wii!) And because we’re part of a network, if our library doesn’t have something, chances another library will. Before you look for something on amazon.com, look for it first at ocln.org.

Another tip? Dunkin’ Donuts coffee is cheaper than Starbucks, but do you know what’s even cheaper than Dunkin’ Donuts? The coffee you make at home. We still haven’t gotten on board with the Keurig system (though I covet every friend of mine who has one!) but even Keurig is less expensive than buying your coffee each day. Now if only we could recycle those little pods.

Belong to a gym? Pack a bag and shower after your daily workout. It takes a little extra prep time in the morning, but your membership fee already includes heat and hot water, so why pay for it twice by showering at home? You can stand under that hot spray for as long as you like without feeling guilty, but invest in a pair of shower shoes (there are some things you just don’t want to share with your fellow athletes and foot fungus is one of them).

Get creative with your cooking. Google the words “budget cooking” and you’ll find a whole slew of websites with wallet-friendly recipes. When all else fails, bring back creamed chip beef on toast. My mother used to serve that to us at the end of the month while waiting for my dad’s next paycheck, and my sister enjoys it to this day. Another Anderson family recipe: Spam and bean pie. My mom would layer slices of Spam in a pie plate, add a can of baked beans, sprinkle the whole thing with cheese and then bake until hot. I passed this recipe along to a friend thinking it would gross her out, but she actually thought her kids might like it.

Become a savvy shopper. Read store circulars and compare prices. Be a ghoul and prey on stores that are going out of business (hint: Hanover’s Office Depot and Kay Bee Toys are both closing. Load up on copier paper and birthday presents now.) Beware the warehouse. A friend of mine just joined Costco in order to save money. In addition to the $50 membership fee, she spent $350 on her first visit. Then still had to go to the grocery store two more times that day for other items. And did I mention Costco is in Avon?

Finally, don’t forget that misery loves company, so use the recession as a way to connect with friends in new ways. Start a dinner club with a few couples, alternating at each person’s home instead of going out to eat. Make friends with people who own vacation homes. It’s the next best thing to owning one yourself. Take your kids to the Harvard Museum of Natural History on a Sunday morning or the ICA on Thursday nights when they’re free. You can save money without missing out on a good time.

Ray Davies said it best: I’m not cheap, you understand, I’m just a cut-price person in a low budget land.

Wii are Family! - 1/14/09

Whee! We have the Wii!
My husband and I have long resisted owning a video game system. Both our children are “vidiots”, entering a coma-like trance whenever the television is on. If a friend is playing a Gameboy, you can be sure that my kids will be hovering behind, watching the action over the poor kid’s shoulder. Ditto the computer. So you can understand why we would hold off for as long as possible.

After years of begging, we reluctantly allowed our children to own The Leapster. This handheld, electronic system plays only educational games. Our kids were mollified, learning math and phonics that were cleverly woven into Batman and Madagascar games. Then everyone around them owned the Nintendo DS Lite, so again we reluctantly allowed them to upgrade (bye-bye educational games, hello Lego Star Wars.)

Then suddenly, everyone we knew had Playstation, Game Cube, Xbox or the Wii. My husband is not one to give in to peer pressure, but my mommy guilt couldn’t live with the idea that my kids would be the only ones in Hanover without a game system. It’s hard enough that we’ve never been to Disney (my husband and I being the only two adults in the continental US who have never been to Florida). So when I spotted the Nintendo Wii at Wal-Mart this fall, I quickly dialed my husband at work and asked his thoughts.

Predictably, he felt it was a bad idea. Our kids were pretty good about regulating their handheld game use, but he felt that purchasing the Wii was just tempting fate. They would be glued to the television all day, every day. Plus, it really just wasn’t in our budget this year.

Sadly, I hung up the phone and promptly bought the Wii.

My rationale: A video game system was inevitable. I grew up without a real Barbie (my parents used to buy the knockoff dolls that were either too big or too small for Barbie’s clothes) and to this day I still feel that something’s missing in my life. The Wii seemed like a good choice in that I could control the types of games we purchased, steering away from the shooting games and focusing more on ones that required my kids to get up and move.

Needless to say, the Wii was a big hit with the kids. I love the fact that my 7-year old will come home from school and go for a 10-minute “run” before doing his homework. My 10 year old is the hula-hoop champ of the house. My husband and I spent New Year’s Day playing endless rounds of golf (yes, the Wii won him over.) A good friend and I went in search of the WiiFit because, in her words, “We fat!” And though I was a bit miffed that the WiiFit tallied my fitness age at 61, I console myself with the fact that I’m better at the downhill slalom than I ever was on real skis (and no frostbite!)

My family and I laughed ourselves silly when we created our “Miis”, computer versions of ourselves that look frighteningly real. But the best part of all is that we’re using the Wii together. The family that plays together stays together.

So do we love our Wii?
Oui!

Time Flies 1/7/09

While web surfing on New Year’s Day I came across an interesting video entitled “One Year in 40 Seconds”. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it’s a video of time lapse photography showing a wooded area changing through a year’s worth of seasons in just forty seconds. Finding this video on New Year’s Day struck me as ironic because just the night before, as my family and I sat glued to the New Year’s Eve Twilight Zone marathon, I thought to myself, “Wasn’t it just yesterday we celebrated New Year’s Eve 2007?”

As a child, time seemed to crawl along at a snail’s pace. Waiting for my mother at the fabric store seemed like forever. Church was an eternity. It seemed like my next birthday or Christmas or summer vacation would never arrive. When would I finally be tall enough to ride the Zipper? Old enough to get my driver’s license? Mature enough to be considered an adult? (Okay, I’m still waiting for that last one.)

Then suddenly time sped up. Four years of college passed in a flash. My first real job was just a blink of an eye, followed quickly by my second and third. Before I knew it, I was thirty with a steady boyfriend and an eye towards marriage. When my children were born, other mothers warned me to enjoy every moment of their babyhood and not to wish away that time. Struggling with the everyday challenges of being a stay-at-home mother, I couldn’t help but wish for my children to grow up just a little bit faster, be a little more independent, a little less needy.

And now the “babies” are seven and ten. And while I’m thankfully finished with strollers, diaper bags and pack-n-plays, I’m starting to worry about braces and learner’s permits and college tuition. My “milestone” 40th birthday was five years ago, and the next milestone will be here long before I’m ready (okay, I’ll never really be ready.)

I think time is moving faster now because there’s less of it ahead of me. Yes, that sounds morbid, but facts are facts. As a child, a teenager and even a young adult, it was easy to be impatient for everything that lay ahead because there was so much more time stretching ahead of me. When I was younger, I was less likely to appreciate the “here and now”, focusing more on the “what’s next?” Perhaps you have to be older to understand that the cliché “Every day is a gift” really isn’t a cliché at all. I’ll try to impress this upon my children but it may take another few decades before they can fully understand this concept.

That’s all right. I can wait.