Again, a late-night quick recap - but at least I'm sticking to week 1 of the resolution. Longer post tomorrow, I promise.
What I loved about my son today: His writing style - expressive, humorous, not always perfectly accurate, but often insightful. He got a near-perfect score on a social studies test today for answers like this:
[What would happen if there were no checks and balances?] the government would go ka-bonkers! Nobody would be agreeing and nobody paying checks.
[Discuss the meaning of "the pen is mightier than the sword"]: The pen exspresses thoughts. And the sword only kills the living.
What I loved about my daughter today: Her love of math. Unlike her poor mom, who struggled mightily in elementary school (a teacher once wrote on my report card, "Shana needs to learn that math is not the enemy"), my girl already seems to have a knack for numbers. She can count small quantities by sight, catches on to new concepts and beams with pride when she finishes a page in her workbook. Hearing her say, "This is so easy!" is a daily joy for me.
I hope she continues her smooth sailing on the choppy waters of mathematics. (Okay, I'm not as good a writer as my little boy. I admit it.) Is it too early to introduce her to Danica McKellar?
My kids' first few years of school have been a good ride so far. Let me never take that for granted.
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Showing posts with label kids. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
"Mommy, a Man Videotaped Me!"
Yesterday was one of those mellow early-fall afternoons that demand to be embraced and savored. A perfect day to let the kids run around the park playground across the street from school and, for once, not worry about rushing them back into the drab world of homework, laundry-folding and chicken in the oven. My two wasted no time in finding friends and launching into adventures while I found a bench to bask on.
"Mommy! Mommy!" Breaking into my reverie, my daughter came running, almost tripping over the grass in her excitement. "A man just took a videotape of Sam and me!" She grinned and clasped her hands together. "He says we're going to be on TV!"
A stranger videotaped my daughter? So much for a placid afternoon.
I wouldn't call myself an obsessively cautious parent. I side with the Free-Range Kids philosophy that children need a measure of independence to help them become confident, self-reliant people. I don't see the world as a cesspool of evil where villains lurk around every corner, just waiting for a mother to drop her guard for a nanosecond. Statistics show that crime is lower now than it was decades ago, when it was much more common for kids to wander their neighborhoods unsupervised. And though I live in big bad New York City, the little segment of it where we hang our hats is about as peaceful and suburbanesque as they come.
Yes, of course the bad guys are out there, and tragically, unspeakable things can and do happen to children. But what we tend to forget is that the terrifying news stories are just that - news, brought to our attention because these things don't happen every day. We also forget that children are more likely to be kidnapped or hurt by someone they know than by a random stranger. The world grieved when little Leiby Kletzky was abducted and murdered by a mentally ill man just blocks from where his parents were waiting for him to return from his Brooklyn camp. No one batted an eye when two more New York children were killed mere weeks later - one a young teen beaten to death on her own front porch by her stepfather, the other a baby shaken while under her parents' care.
So I try to maintain that tricky balance between realism and paranoia. I give my kids freedom to explore familiar territory like our block or the playground, and I don't dial 911 if they leave my sight for a minute or two. We've gone over the basic safety rules: never go anywhere, accept food or get into a car with someone they don't know. My son even scolds me if I strike up a conversation with a shopper: "Mom, you're talking to a stranger!"
And yet, when my daughter told me about the man with the camera, reason gave way to panic. A stranger videotaped my child!! And he did it while I sat just a stone's throw away, with my back turned. What was this person doing getting footage of 5-year-old girls? Had he touched them? Made them pose? Was he sending his footage to YouTube or to some beyond-sickening pedophile site?
Instantly, I turned into Lioness Mom. This creep wasn't going to get away with this on my watch.
My daughter's excited face fell as she saw that I wasn't as thrilled about this video incident as I was. "What did he look like? Where did he go?" I demanded.
She pointed to the bike path a few yards away. Grabbing her hand, I ran in that direction - leaving my son under the watchful eye of parent-friends - and soon spotted a figure walking slowly round a bend. "There he is!" she yelled.
In full frenzy mode, I sped to his side. The guy was 70 years old if he was a day, white-haired and calm, but yes, holding a video camera. Crime knows no age, I guess. "Excuse me!" I said. No response. "EXCUSE ME, SIR!"
Finally, he turned in my direction and smiled. What?! How dare he be pleasant at a time like this?
"Did you just take a video of my daughter?" I demanded.
He smiled again. His accent sounded Slavic. "No English. Sorry."
I pointed to his camera and then to my girl, who by now was clinging to my leg and probably wondering why Mom was so upset with this nice old man. "DID...YOU...TAPE...HER?" I asked in the time-honored Let's Talk Loudly and Slowly to Foreigners fashion.
"No...no!" He pointed to a younger and an older woman a short distance away. "Here...daughter."
Women confronted. Situation explained. The older one - his wife, no doubt - didn't speak English either, but the daughter understood enough to assuage my fears. She let me look at the saved videos her father had taken, as well as the photos on the camera she was carrying. Nothing remotely suspicious, and no images of my child or anyone else's. Just a happy family posing in front of flowers and walls and otherwise enjoying a visit to the park - until a strange crazed woman started accusing them of exploiting her kid, that is. My guess is that Dad must have passed by the girls, they pointed to his camera and he said "TV" because, well, that's the one word everyone knows.
I'm sure many parents hearing about this will nod their heads and say I did exactly the right thing. "Better safe than sorry," they'll say. "You just never know." True. But while I would have blamed myself if I'd done nothing and something unsavory had happened, I do feel a bit embarrassed for freaking out quite as much as I did. A cooler head and a calmer talk with my daughter might have brought out the whole story and avoided the drama that put a damper on a glorious fall day.
But what's done is done, and now I'll do what I should have done in the first place. I won't tighten the parental reins at the playground, but I will add a new rule to the safety list: don't let a grownup photograph or video you without getting clearance from Mom or Dad first. Like bath time, personal images are a private thing and not for general sharing without parental knowledge and supervision. Our neighborhood is a safe place; the internet is another matter.
Besides, if the videographer is looking for subjects for a new reality show, I want to know about it. Now that Kate Plus 8 has been cancelled, there's an empty spot on the TV schedule...
"Mommy! Mommy!" Breaking into my reverie, my daughter came running, almost tripping over the grass in her excitement. "A man just took a videotape of Sam and me!" She grinned and clasped her hands together. "He says we're going to be on TV!"
A stranger videotaped my daughter? So much for a placid afternoon.
I wouldn't call myself an obsessively cautious parent. I side with the Free-Range Kids philosophy that children need a measure of independence to help them become confident, self-reliant people. I don't see the world as a cesspool of evil where villains lurk around every corner, just waiting for a mother to drop her guard for a nanosecond. Statistics show that crime is lower now than it was decades ago, when it was much more common for kids to wander their neighborhoods unsupervised. And though I live in big bad New York City, the little segment of it where we hang our hats is about as peaceful and suburbanesque as they come.
Yes, of course the bad guys are out there, and tragically, unspeakable things can and do happen to children. But what we tend to forget is that the terrifying news stories are just that - news, brought to our attention because these things don't happen every day. We also forget that children are more likely to be kidnapped or hurt by someone they know than by a random stranger. The world grieved when little Leiby Kletzky was abducted and murdered by a mentally ill man just blocks from where his parents were waiting for him to return from his Brooklyn camp. No one batted an eye when two more New York children were killed mere weeks later - one a young teen beaten to death on her own front porch by her stepfather, the other a baby shaken while under her parents' care.
So I try to maintain that tricky balance between realism and paranoia. I give my kids freedom to explore familiar territory like our block or the playground, and I don't dial 911 if they leave my sight for a minute or two. We've gone over the basic safety rules: never go anywhere, accept food or get into a car with someone they don't know. My son even scolds me if I strike up a conversation with a shopper: "Mom, you're talking to a stranger!"
And yet, when my daughter told me about the man with the camera, reason gave way to panic. A stranger videotaped my child!! And he did it while I sat just a stone's throw away, with my back turned. What was this person doing getting footage of 5-year-old girls? Had he touched them? Made them pose? Was he sending his footage to YouTube or to some beyond-sickening pedophile site?
Instantly, I turned into Lioness Mom. This creep wasn't going to get away with this on my watch.
My daughter's excited face fell as she saw that I wasn't as thrilled about this video incident as I was. "What did he look like? Where did he go?" I demanded.
She pointed to the bike path a few yards away. Grabbing her hand, I ran in that direction - leaving my son under the watchful eye of parent-friends - and soon spotted a figure walking slowly round a bend. "There he is!" she yelled.
In full frenzy mode, I sped to his side. The guy was 70 years old if he was a day, white-haired and calm, but yes, holding a video camera. Crime knows no age, I guess. "Excuse me!" I said. No response. "EXCUSE ME, SIR!"
Finally, he turned in my direction and smiled. What?! How dare he be pleasant at a time like this?
"Did you just take a video of my daughter?" I demanded.
He smiled again. His accent sounded Slavic. "No English. Sorry."
I pointed to his camera and then to my girl, who by now was clinging to my leg and probably wondering why Mom was so upset with this nice old man. "DID...YOU...TAPE...HER?" I asked in the time-honored Let's Talk Loudly and Slowly to Foreigners fashion.
"No...no!" He pointed to a younger and an older woman a short distance away. "Here...daughter."
Women confronted. Situation explained. The older one - his wife, no doubt - didn't speak English either, but the daughter understood enough to assuage my fears. She let me look at the saved videos her father had taken, as well as the photos on the camera she was carrying. Nothing remotely suspicious, and no images of my child or anyone else's. Just a happy family posing in front of flowers and walls and otherwise enjoying a visit to the park - until a strange crazed woman started accusing them of exploiting her kid, that is. My guess is that Dad must have passed by the girls, they pointed to his camera and he said "TV" because, well, that's the one word everyone knows.
I'm sure many parents hearing about this will nod their heads and say I did exactly the right thing. "Better safe than sorry," they'll say. "You just never know." True. But while I would have blamed myself if I'd done nothing and something unsavory had happened, I do feel a bit embarrassed for freaking out quite as much as I did. A cooler head and a calmer talk with my daughter might have brought out the whole story and avoided the drama that put a damper on a glorious fall day.
But what's done is done, and now I'll do what I should have done in the first place. I won't tighten the parental reins at the playground, but I will add a new rule to the safety list: don't let a grownup photograph or video you without getting clearance from Mom or Dad first. Like bath time, personal images are a private thing and not for general sharing without parental knowledge and supervision. Our neighborhood is a safe place; the internet is another matter.
Besides, if the videographer is looking for subjects for a new reality show, I want to know about it. Now that Kate Plus 8 has been cancelled, there's an empty spot on the TV schedule...
Friday, July 29, 2011
Momsperiment Commandments on a Friday Afternoon
1. Thou shalt continue with thy vow to get thine act together, in hopes that thy offspring mayest see thine shining example and follow it like unto Patrick following SpongeBob.
2. In attempt to do same, thou shalt continue to be merciless in thine attempt to organize office space. If thou wouldst not want to pack it if thou had to pack up thy worldly goods tomorrow, it's outta here.
3. Thou shalt not dawdle in doing so, hard as it may be to motivate thyself. If necessary, thou shalt give thyself the old Mama Berenstain Bear "You'll feel so much better when it's done" lecture.
4. Thou shalt not, however, wear a polka-dot duster cap.
5. If thou shouldst delay, thou shalt keep this memory firmly in mind next time thou seest thine children yanking out all their Legos or setting up a tea party even as the clutter gathers 'round them.
6. When necessary and convenient, thou shalt allot enough time in the day for adequate child-energy-burning. Thou shalt exercise patience and realize that in the eyes of the young, a day of swimming, playing games and painting murals in camp is considered merely a "good start." It doth not preclude 90 more minutes of scooter-riding and lightsaber-battling with the kids down the block, even as their dinner groweth ever colder.
7. Thou shalt not throw Mom Tantrums, even if thy children have just tossed a screaming and kicking fit of their own. Thou art the grownup, and as such must appear to be more in control than thou actually art. (Besides, adult tantrums don't even feel as satisfying afterward as childhood ones. Dang.)
8. Thou shalt not feel embarrassed about hanging on to old makeup sets. Thou never knowest when the visages of thy young may need to be covered in green eyeshadow for a space-alien party. (Purple eyeliner workest great for making extra eyeballs, too.)
9. Thou shalt remember the unearthed press release that emerged like a jewel under the piles of clutter and be grateful for clean desks, green eyeshadow, scooter rides and healthy children. (Thou need not, however, be grateful for polka-dot duster caps.)
10. Thou shalt not write another blog in pseudo-biblical language.
2. In attempt to do same, thou shalt continue to be merciless in thine attempt to organize office space. If thou wouldst not want to pack it if thou had to pack up thy worldly goods tomorrow, it's outta here.
3. Thou shalt not dawdle in doing so, hard as it may be to motivate thyself. If necessary, thou shalt give thyself the old Mama Berenstain Bear "You'll feel so much better when it's done" lecture.
4. Thou shalt not, however, wear a polka-dot duster cap.
5. If thou shouldst delay, thou shalt keep this memory firmly in mind next time thou seest thine children yanking out all their Legos or setting up a tea party even as the clutter gathers 'round them.
6. When necessary and convenient, thou shalt allot enough time in the day for adequate child-energy-burning. Thou shalt exercise patience and realize that in the eyes of the young, a day of swimming, playing games and painting murals in camp is considered merely a "good start." It doth not preclude 90 more minutes of scooter-riding and lightsaber-battling with the kids down the block, even as their dinner groweth ever colder.
7. Thou shalt not throw Mom Tantrums, even if thy children have just tossed a screaming and kicking fit of their own. Thou art the grownup, and as such must appear to be more in control than thou actually art. (Besides, adult tantrums don't even feel as satisfying afterward as childhood ones. Dang.)
8. Thou shalt not feel embarrassed about hanging on to old makeup sets. Thou never knowest when the visages of thy young may need to be covered in green eyeshadow for a space-alien party. (Purple eyeliner workest great for making extra eyeballs, too.)
9. Thou shalt remember the unearthed press release that emerged like a jewel under the piles of clutter and be grateful for clean desks, green eyeshadow, scooter rides and healthy children. (Thou need not, however, be grateful for polka-dot duster caps.)
10. Thou shalt not write another blog in pseudo-biblical language.
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
Let Us Now Praise Jungle Gyms and Seesaws
The first playground I ever knew was the one in the apartment complex where I spent my first couple of years. It had big tubes for climbing and playing peek-a-boo, made of knee-scrapingly rough cement. From there, I went on to such playground delights as tall jungle gyms, wooden seesaws, roundabouts and a schoolyard with hard blacktop surfacing and a huge circular metal device on a pole that six or seven kids could grab and swing up and around till we were giddy with delight and vertigo.
The playground where my kids spend a sizable percentage of their free time has separate sections for toddlers and older children. The equipment consists mainly of swing sets and multilevel climbing units with ramps, ladders, monkey bars, swing bridges and observation towers, nothing higher than eight feet. The ground is covered with rubber padding, the better to cushion falls. There are no big roundabouts, tall slides or seesaws - I can't remember the last time I saw a teeter-totter - and certainly nothing resembling my school's old pole swing. Everything is designed with safety (and lawsuit avoidance) in mind.
I got through my childhood with nothing more than the usual bumps and cuts. My first ER visit was in junior high, but not for a playground accident. (Gouged open my elbow on a metal drugstore shelf.)
Last September, my daughter slipped off the monkey bars, landed awkwardly on the nice safe rubberized ground and broke her wrist. She celebrated her fifth birthday in a full arm cast.
Now it seems that the old-fashioned playgrounds may be better for kids after all. Psychologists say that thrill-seeking is a normal part of child development, and that learning to master tall playground apparatus and zip down speedy slides helps develop confidence. When play areas are too tame, kids get bored. Researchers have even found that children who are hurt in a fall before age nine are less likely to be scared of heights later on.
So I'll try to relax a little next time I see my son dangling himself over the edge of the playground tower or joining a group of friends in a game of Let's All Go Down the Slide Together. And when my daughter's wrist healed, I encouraged her to get back on the monkey bars. After a few nervous tries, she was swinging from end to end as if the accident had never happened.
Even in a safe environment, our children need a little danger.
The playground where my kids spend a sizable percentage of their free time has separate sections for toddlers and older children. The equipment consists mainly of swing sets and multilevel climbing units with ramps, ladders, monkey bars, swing bridges and observation towers, nothing higher than eight feet. The ground is covered with rubber padding, the better to cushion falls. There are no big roundabouts, tall slides or seesaws - I can't remember the last time I saw a teeter-totter - and certainly nothing resembling my school's old pole swing. Everything is designed with safety (and lawsuit avoidance) in mind.
I got through my childhood with nothing more than the usual bumps and cuts. My first ER visit was in junior high, but not for a playground accident. (Gouged open my elbow on a metal drugstore shelf.)
Last September, my daughter slipped off the monkey bars, landed awkwardly on the nice safe rubberized ground and broke her wrist. She celebrated her fifth birthday in a full arm cast.
Now it seems that the old-fashioned playgrounds may be better for kids after all. Psychologists say that thrill-seeking is a normal part of child development, and that learning to master tall playground apparatus and zip down speedy slides helps develop confidence. When play areas are too tame, kids get bored. Researchers have even found that children who are hurt in a fall before age nine are less likely to be scared of heights later on.
So I'll try to relax a little next time I see my son dangling himself over the edge of the playground tower or joining a group of friends in a game of Let's All Go Down the Slide Together. And when my daughter's wrist healed, I encouraged her to get back on the monkey bars. After a few nervous tries, she was swinging from end to end as if the accident had never happened.
Even in a safe environment, our children need a little danger.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Ten Lessons Learned From a Day at the Amusement Park
Alas, we don't have the time or the limitless finances to conduct an extended Momsperiment on various theme parks and their management techniques, but I did pick up a few handy tips the other day that seemed worth sharing - and keeping in mind for our next outing.
1. PopChips are the perfect en-route travel snack. They're pseudo-healthy enough to ease the Mom Nutritional Guilt, and light enough on the tummy to withstand thrill rides.
2. Even if the kids insist they don't need them, bring extra clothes anyway. Plus several pairs of shoes. The thrill of damp sandals wears off quickly after the seventh round on the log flume.
3. Pairing off parents and children and splitting up is a fine strategy, especially if your kids are of varying ages. That way, one child can explore all of Tiny Tot Tamesville while the other accompanies Dad to The Upchucker.
4. Translated, "I want to ride the Ladybug Coaster!" really means, "This ride looks cool, but I've never been on a kiddie coaster like this, and I might freak out even if you're right next to me. Please talk me out of it if you don't want to spend 90 harrowing seconds consoling a wailing child as your car zips around a curve, then enduring the disapproving you-shoulda-known-better-moron-lady looks of fellow parents."
5. It is perfectly okay to shut your eyes through most of a spook-house ride when you're 8. Even if it's the cheesy pop-out-skeleton variety that's less scary than an average Mad Money broadcast.
6. It is also perfectly okay to admit to your child that the same ride that makes him feel like Superman soaring through the air is making you feel a wee bit white-knuckled. However, you may have to endure the scornful reply, "Really, Mom? You're scared of this?!"
7. Everyone needs a break from the sensory overload of lights, noise and twirling vehicles. A scavenger hunt - parent/child teams scour the park to see who can find certain items first - is a fun diversion. Particularly if the hunt involves monkeys. (See below.)
8. There are more interesting pastimes than watching little ones ride the same car/motorcycle/caterpillar/three-toed sloth around the same circular track again and again. Focusing on their delighted smiles, however, helps a lot.
9. So does the thought of being able to remind them of outings like this in years to come, when Page Six announces that your darling is writing a tell-all memoir that promises to make Joan Crawford look like Carol Brady next to you. "See these pictures of that happy child on the merry-go-round? The one clutching the stuffed Angry Bird in one hand and the cotton candy in the other? That's you, kiddo. Now tell your editor to take out the chapter about how you spent your entire childhood eating bread crusts in a moldy basement."
10. Giving in to pleas to stay well past bedtime for the sake of "Just one more ride, pleeease?" ensures you get the very most for your amusement-park buck. It also gives you an express pass to the Stuck in Nighttime Weekend Traffic with Tired, Cranky and Tearful Kids ride.
1. PopChips are the perfect en-route travel snack. They're pseudo-healthy enough to ease the Mom Nutritional Guilt, and light enough on the tummy to withstand thrill rides.
2. Even if the kids insist they don't need them, bring extra clothes anyway. Plus several pairs of shoes. The thrill of damp sandals wears off quickly after the seventh round on the log flume.
3. Pairing off parents and children and splitting up is a fine strategy, especially if your kids are of varying ages. That way, one child can explore all of Tiny Tot Tamesville while the other accompanies Dad to The Upchucker.
4. Translated, "I want to ride the Ladybug Coaster!" really means, "This ride looks cool, but I've never been on a kiddie coaster like this, and I might freak out even if you're right next to me. Please talk me out of it if you don't want to spend 90 harrowing seconds consoling a wailing child as your car zips around a curve, then enduring the disapproving you-shoulda-known-better-moron-lady looks of fellow parents."
5. It is perfectly okay to shut your eyes through most of a spook-house ride when you're 8. Even if it's the cheesy pop-out-skeleton variety that's less scary than an average Mad Money broadcast.
6. It is also perfectly okay to admit to your child that the same ride that makes him feel like Superman soaring through the air is making you feel a wee bit white-knuckled. However, you may have to endure the scornful reply, "Really, Mom? You're scared of this?!"
7. Everyone needs a break from the sensory overload of lights, noise and twirling vehicles. A scavenger hunt - parent/child teams scour the park to see who can find certain items first - is a fun diversion. Particularly if the hunt involves monkeys. (See below.)
8. There are more interesting pastimes than watching little ones ride the same car/motorcycle/caterpillar/three-toed sloth around the same circular track again and again. Focusing on their delighted smiles, however, helps a lot.
9. So does the thought of being able to remind them of outings like this in years to come, when Page Six announces that your darling is writing a tell-all memoir that promises to make Joan Crawford look like Carol Brady next to you. "See these pictures of that happy child on the merry-go-round? The one clutching the stuffed Angry Bird in one hand and the cotton candy in the other? That's you, kiddo. Now tell your editor to take out the chapter about how you spent your entire childhood eating bread crusts in a moldy basement."
10. Giving in to pleas to stay well past bedtime for the sake of "Just one more ride, pleeease?" ensures you get the very most for your amusement-park buck. It also gives you an express pass to the Stuck in Nighttime Weekend Traffic with Tired, Cranky and Tearful Kids ride.
Friday, July 15, 2011
Kid-Free Restaurant: A True Happy Meal?
I guess this is Restaurant Week over at the old Momsperiment homestead. Today's headline: a new no-kids policy initiated by a Pittsburgh eatery.
Children under 6 are just too noisy, owner Mike Vuick wrote in an email to fans of McDain's Restaurant and Golf Center. So out of consideration for patrons who'd rather not have their meal interrupted by tantrums or choruses of the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song, he created the ban.
Of course, there was a public outcry - but instead of crying foul, people are saying, "It's about time!" The 2,000 emails Vuick has gotten so far have been overwhelmingly positive, and a local poll supports him, too. One regular customer, mom of a toddler, canceled a family party she was planning to hold there, but she's by far in the minority. Seems diners think a child's rightful place is at McDonald's, not McDain's.
Now, I enjoy a quiet dinner as much as the next person. I also know how frustrating it is - both as a patron and a parent - when a child acts up in public. But a total ban? Pretty harsh. It suggests that the entire pre-K set is a nuisance to the world at large, and that all parents are irresponsible jerks who can't keep them under control. Even the North Carolina restaurant that established a no-screaming policy last year doesn't shut out toddlers; parents are simply asked to take the unruly one outside for a cool-down break.
Before this threatens to become a trend, maybe it's time for us parents to make a formal agreement with dining establishments that could be posted in the window in place of the "No Kids" sign. We'd promise to do our part to keep misbehavior to a minimum: not dining out too late at night or if the kids are sick or cranky; discouraging silverware wars and milk-bubble-blowing; taking an outdoor time-out at the first sign of whining and leaving if Meltdown Mode seems imminent. The restaurants, in turn, would vow to inform us of unexpected delays, provide options like bread baskets or serving the kids first, and remember the difference between happy child-chatter and outright screaming. (It's only fair; we have to put up with the diners at the next table arguing on their cell phones and sharing intimate details about their spleen surgery.)
Too formal? Too impractical? Maybe. But if it means not being limited to eateries with plastic utensils and nugget-intensive cuisine until my children go to college, I'm willing to give it a try.
Children under 6 are just too noisy, owner Mike Vuick wrote in an email to fans of McDain's Restaurant and Golf Center. So out of consideration for patrons who'd rather not have their meal interrupted by tantrums or choruses of the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song, he created the ban.
Of course, there was a public outcry - but instead of crying foul, people are saying, "It's about time!" The 2,000 emails Vuick has gotten so far have been overwhelmingly positive, and a local poll supports him, too. One regular customer, mom of a toddler, canceled a family party she was planning to hold there, but she's by far in the minority. Seems diners think a child's rightful place is at McDonald's, not McDain's.
Now, I enjoy a quiet dinner as much as the next person. I also know how frustrating it is - both as a patron and a parent - when a child acts up in public. But a total ban? Pretty harsh. It suggests that the entire pre-K set is a nuisance to the world at large, and that all parents are irresponsible jerks who can't keep them under control. Even the North Carolina restaurant that established a no-screaming policy last year doesn't shut out toddlers; parents are simply asked to take the unruly one outside for a cool-down break.
Before this threatens to become a trend, maybe it's time for us parents to make a formal agreement with dining establishments that could be posted in the window in place of the "No Kids" sign. We'd promise to do our part to keep misbehavior to a minimum: not dining out too late at night or if the kids are sick or cranky; discouraging silverware wars and milk-bubble-blowing; taking an outdoor time-out at the first sign of whining and leaving if Meltdown Mode seems imminent. The restaurants, in turn, would vow to inform us of unexpected delays, provide options like bread baskets or serving the kids first, and remember the difference between happy child-chatter and outright screaming. (It's only fair; we have to put up with the diners at the next table arguing on their cell phones and sharing intimate details about their spleen surgery.)
Too formal? Too impractical? Maybe. But if it means not being limited to eateries with plastic utensils and nugget-intensive cuisine until my children go to college, I'm willing to give it a try.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
IHOP Broccoli? No Kidding
Hold the fries; pass the apples.
As part of a campaign called Kids Live Well, 19 fast-food chains are adding healthier options to their typical burger-and-shake fare. Each participant has vowed to offer at least one low-calorie kids' meal with no fewer than two servings of veggies, whole grains and other good stuff. Burger King will stop automatically putting fries and soda in their kiddie packs in the hope that parents will opt for apple slices and milk instead. IHOP brags that its kids' menu already includes a dish of tilapia with a side of broccoli. (Not participating: McDonald's. They're doing a little Superior Dance and scoffing, "Nyah. We've been doing the apple thing for years.")
Sounds good at first glance. After all, moms are hard-wired to nourish, and feeding children is a Momsperiment we all conduct: what to serve, when, how much. It's also jam-packed with angst. From the breast-vs-bottle debate onward, we worry about every meal we serve - even the healthy ones. (Are those veggies sprayed with pesticides? Does the sugar in this cereal cancel out the whole grains?) Most of all, we secretly feel judged. If our grocery cart contains more mac 'n' cheese boxes and ice cream cartons than brown rice and peaches, we can almost hear the bad-mom thoughts of fellow shoppers. So this initiative may help ease some of the guilt we feel over hitting yet another chain restaurant because we're too busy to make a pot of soup from scratch.
But let's not get too excited just yet. Most of the eateries have just two or three "healthy" options, most along the lines of spaghetti with marinara sauce. Friendly's has only one low-cal entree; the rest of its Live Well list consists of ho-hum side dishes like corn niblets and applesauce.
Then there's the mixed-message problem. If you're going to order grilled salmon and baked potatoes for the youngsters, you'd better not chow down on the triple cheeseburger unless you're prepared for wails of "That's not fair!"
Finally, there's the big question of what we honestly want from our family-dining experience. Yes, we want the service quick, the food cheap and tasty and the atmosphere tantrum-tolerant. But do we want it healthy? Let's face it: You don't go to IHOP because you're craving tilapia and broccoli, and adding carrot and celery sticks to a supper of fried chicken fingers and a Snickers sundae doesn't make it nutritionally sound.
So if we're serious about feeding our families well when we're traveling, tired or on a tight schedule, then we shouldn't settle for this half-hearted effort. Let's demand more healthy kids' and adult entrees on fast-food menus, imaginative side dishes that might actually get children to enjoy their veggies, and perhaps bonuses like organic produce and meat from humane farms. Then let's show our appreciation by choosing these eateries over ones that try to appease us with a few steamed green beans, even if it costs more.
But if deep down, we don't want to give up the grease, salt and sugar when we go out - or ban it totally for our children - then let's indulge without guilt (as long as it is, indeed, an indulgence and not a regular habit) and stop trying to make fast food anything more than it is.
When it comes to kids' meals, let's not kid ourselves.
As part of a campaign called Kids Live Well, 19 fast-food chains are adding healthier options to their typical burger-and-shake fare. Each participant has vowed to offer at least one low-calorie kids' meal with no fewer than two servings of veggies, whole grains and other good stuff. Burger King will stop automatically putting fries and soda in their kiddie packs in the hope that parents will opt for apple slices and milk instead. IHOP brags that its kids' menu already includes a dish of tilapia with a side of broccoli. (Not participating: McDonald's. They're doing a little Superior Dance and scoffing, "Nyah. We've been doing the apple thing for years.")
Sounds good at first glance. After all, moms are hard-wired to nourish, and feeding children is a Momsperiment we all conduct: what to serve, when, how much. It's also jam-packed with angst. From the breast-vs-bottle debate onward, we worry about every meal we serve - even the healthy ones. (Are those veggies sprayed with pesticides? Does the sugar in this cereal cancel out the whole grains?) Most of all, we secretly feel judged. If our grocery cart contains more mac 'n' cheese boxes and ice cream cartons than brown rice and peaches, we can almost hear the bad-mom thoughts of fellow shoppers. So this initiative may help ease some of the guilt we feel over hitting yet another chain restaurant because we're too busy to make a pot of soup from scratch.
But let's not get too excited just yet. Most of the eateries have just two or three "healthy" options, most along the lines of spaghetti with marinara sauce. Friendly's has only one low-cal entree; the rest of its Live Well list consists of ho-hum side dishes like corn niblets and applesauce.
Then there's the mixed-message problem. If you're going to order grilled salmon and baked potatoes for the youngsters, you'd better not chow down on the triple cheeseburger unless you're prepared for wails of "That's not fair!"
Finally, there's the big question of what we honestly want from our family-dining experience. Yes, we want the service quick, the food cheap and tasty and the atmosphere tantrum-tolerant. But do we want it healthy? Let's face it: You don't go to IHOP because you're craving tilapia and broccoli, and adding carrot and celery sticks to a supper of fried chicken fingers and a Snickers sundae doesn't make it nutritionally sound.
So if we're serious about feeding our families well when we're traveling, tired or on a tight schedule, then we shouldn't settle for this half-hearted effort. Let's demand more healthy kids' and adult entrees on fast-food menus, imaginative side dishes that might actually get children to enjoy their veggies, and perhaps bonuses like organic produce and meat from humane farms. Then let's show our appreciation by choosing these eateries over ones that try to appease us with a few steamed green beans, even if it costs more.
But if deep down, we don't want to give up the grease, salt and sugar when we go out - or ban it totally for our children - then let's indulge without guilt (as long as it is, indeed, an indulgence and not a regular habit) and stop trying to make fast food anything more than it is.
When it comes to kids' meals, let's not kid ourselves.
Monday, June 20, 2011
Would You Take Away Storytime?
Punishing kids for disobedience or bad behavior is a tradition that goes as far back as Creation itself. ("Didn't I tell you not to eat the apples? No more pretty garden time for you! And Eve...well, let's just say that before long, you're going to wish I invented epidurals.") Since then, parents have been issuing penalties both minor - like time-outs and canceled playdates - and over-the-top, like razor-strop beatings and cutting the offender out of the will.
One strategy that many parents employ is taking away desserts, playground trips and other privileges. But this dad does something a little different. When his five-year-old son starts acting up around bedtime, dad blogger Michael Kindness withholds storytime. Each misbehavior costs young Milo one of his nightly four books; four strikes, and he goes to bed without so much as a page of Knuffle Bunny. Kindness - a book lover who works in publishing - admits that he feels terrible every time he resorts to the no-book measure, then goes on to say that in Milo's case, it works better than other traditional penalties like canceling morning TV or giving a time-out to a toy.
I totally understand where Kindness is coming from. Like him, I've tried different punishments with varying degrees of success. And like him, I feel guilty when I forbid video games for a weekend or even dessert for a night, knowing the reaction that's sure to follow. (Denied a chocolate-chip cookie, my son once protested for 45 minutes straight, including a dramatic dialogue between "Mr. Cookie" and "Mr. Stomach" that was worthy of a Daytime Emmy.)
But alas, I can't back up this well-intentioned dad on his choice. Unlike a Wii game or a Twinkie, books aren't a privilege or a treat; they're a vital part of a child's growth. From vocabulary-building to social skills and problem-solving, reading helps children develop in just about every way. Of course little Milo won't drop 10 IQ points overnight if he hears two stories instead of four. But using books as a punishment or reward may be sending him the unintended message that only "good" children deserve to hear stories - or that reading is merely optional.
Cutting out storytime also means losing a precious opportunity to connect with a child in those final intimate nighttime moments.Without the distractions of work, school and chores, our minds and hearts open in a way that just doesn't happen during daylight hours. Some of my most interesting and personal conversations with my kids have taken place after the last page is read; there's something about that time that makes them feel comfortable enough to say, "You know what I've been thinking?"
Yes, I confess that I've tried the "no bedtime story" strategy myself a couple of times in the past - and felt like I was being punished too. Not worth it. And there are times when we have to skip the reading if they're going to bed late on a school night, but that's not the same as saying, "No Junie B. Jones because you hit your sister."
So Mr. Kindness, with all due respect, may I suggest you find a, um, kinder way to discipline your son? We all know it's frustrating to deal with the wired-and-tired antics that always seem to peak around bedtime, but depriving him of stories isn't the way to go. Read him those four books and cherish every moment of your bedtime bonding.
Besides, there are those who would argue that reading The Cat in the Hat or The Berenstain Bears for the zillionth time is punishment enough as it is.
What do you think? Is it okay to take away storytime if it helps encourage better behavior? Have you tried it yourself?
One strategy that many parents employ is taking away desserts, playground trips and other privileges. But this dad does something a little different. When his five-year-old son starts acting up around bedtime, dad blogger Michael Kindness withholds storytime. Each misbehavior costs young Milo one of his nightly four books; four strikes, and he goes to bed without so much as a page of Knuffle Bunny. Kindness - a book lover who works in publishing - admits that he feels terrible every time he resorts to the no-book measure, then goes on to say that in Milo's case, it works better than other traditional penalties like canceling morning TV or giving a time-out to a toy.
I totally understand where Kindness is coming from. Like him, I've tried different punishments with varying degrees of success. And like him, I feel guilty when I forbid video games for a weekend or even dessert for a night, knowing the reaction that's sure to follow. (Denied a chocolate-chip cookie, my son once protested for 45 minutes straight, including a dramatic dialogue between "Mr. Cookie" and "Mr. Stomach" that was worthy of a Daytime Emmy.)
But alas, I can't back up this well-intentioned dad on his choice. Unlike a Wii game or a Twinkie, books aren't a privilege or a treat; they're a vital part of a child's growth. From vocabulary-building to social skills and problem-solving, reading helps children develop in just about every way. Of course little Milo won't drop 10 IQ points overnight if he hears two stories instead of four. But using books as a punishment or reward may be sending him the unintended message that only "good" children deserve to hear stories - or that reading is merely optional.
Cutting out storytime also means losing a precious opportunity to connect with a child in those final intimate nighttime moments.Without the distractions of work, school and chores, our minds and hearts open in a way that just doesn't happen during daylight hours. Some of my most interesting and personal conversations with my kids have taken place after the last page is read; there's something about that time that makes them feel comfortable enough to say, "You know what I've been thinking?"
Yes, I confess that I've tried the "no bedtime story" strategy myself a couple of times in the past - and felt like I was being punished too. Not worth it. And there are times when we have to skip the reading if they're going to bed late on a school night, but that's not the same as saying, "No Junie B. Jones because you hit your sister."
So Mr. Kindness, with all due respect, may I suggest you find a, um, kinder way to discipline your son? We all know it's frustrating to deal with the wired-and-tired antics that always seem to peak around bedtime, but depriving him of stories isn't the way to go. Read him those four books and cherish every moment of your bedtime bonding.
Besides, there are those who would argue that reading The Cat in the Hat or The Berenstain Bears for the zillionth time is punishment enough as it is.
What do you think? Is it okay to take away storytime if it helps encourage better behavior? Have you tried it yourself?
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