On Vacation

I will be on vacation for a week and a half, so posts may be sporadic. I will be back to my usual blogging self July 12.

If you're planning on vacationing with kids this summer, check out Mom's Minivan for games and other travel suggestions.

An Impressive Gift

I was happy to read that Warren Buffett, the billionaire investor, plans to give away most of his fortune over the next several years. He will be donating it to the Gates Foundation, which focuses on improving world health and U.S. education.

In an interview with Fortune magazine, Buffett explained why he isn't leaving the bulk of his money to his children:

Certainly neither [my wife] nor I ever thought we should pass huge amounts of money along to our children. Our kids are great. But I would argue that when your kids have all the advantages anyway, in terms of how they grow up and the opportunities they have for education, including what they learn at home - I would say it's neither right nor rational to be flooding them with money.

In effect, they've had a gigantic headstart in a society that aspires to be a meritocracy. Dynastic mega-wealth would further tilt the playing field that we ought to be trying instead to level.

I find it interesting that Buffett acknowledges the intangible benefits some children receive, both in school and at home. Unless unforeseen events drastically change our circumstances, we won't be leaving Ben great monentary wealth, but I like to think that we can still give him an important legacy of learning and love.

In Praise of Memorization

Tom has been reading Brutal Journey: The Epic Story of the First Crossing of North America, and while doing so he has been sharing snippets about the book. He was telling me about how the Pope drew a line in the ocean dividing the "new" lands between Spain and Portugal. Suddenly I burst out with, "In Fourteen-hundred-ninety-three, / The pope divided the deep blue sea! Line of Demarcation!" Sure enough, a quick check of Wikipedia confirmed that I had a nugget of history lying dormant in my brain.

In 8th grade, Mrs. Beebe made us memorize dates, and I am still grateful to her for that. I know that Rome fell in 476 AD, that the last successful invasion of England was William the Conqueror in 1066. In 1215, the Magna Carta, the first document to limit the power of a king, was signed. In 1517, Martin Luther nailed his 95 theses to the door of the church in Wittenberg. In 1534 Henry VIII started the Church of England. The American Civil War ended in 1865. Somehow, these dates have stayed with me, even as the mounds of information I learned in AP US History vanished. While I don't claim that these dates are a substitute for an in-depth knowledge of history, they have always given me a structure in which to place new information.

Memorization has fallen out of vogue in secondary education, and that's a pity. When I taught high school, much to my students' dismay I required them to memorize things. The seniors were particularly resentful about memorizing the opening lines of the Canterbury Tales in Middle English. "What's the point?" they grumbled.

Now, especially, when anyone can find dates or lines of poetry with the click of a mouse, memorization would seem less important than ever. But I believe memorization is important because it allows information to become a part of us. Yes, you can find many online versions of Julius Caesar--but nothing compares to saying the words out loud and feeling the iambic pentameter with your own heartbeat. When I went to see Shakespeare in the Park two weeks ago, I was able to appreciate the performance all the more because I knew most of the major speeches so well that they were a part of me.

Without memorization, we allow information to flow past our eyes without internalizing it. I know it happens; I often find myself looking up the same words again and again on dictionary.com, when if I paused and made myself write them 20 times I would never have to do so again. Yes, we have access to an unprecedented amount of information, but that makes it all the more important to retain key points so we can structure and process what we find.

Pimp My Cat

I'm not especially fond of the word "pimp." For one thing, it's too close to "pimple," which is a word that makes my skin crawl. For another, I deplore the sexualization of American culture, especially when it's marketed to children.

Late at night, though, Tom and I have been known to get into silly moods. As we sat around drinking tea and eating chocolate chip cookies, he told me an online survey had asked him whether he "pimped" his electronic equipment. Now, we both knew the survey wasn't asking him if he helped prostitute his computer or MP3 player; instead, it was using the definition "to make attractive/fancy," as used on the MTV show Pimp My Ride.

This led to us trying to come up with the best title for a new reality show. I thought Pimp My Wife sounded inappropriate and funny, and Pimp My Cookies might work for a cooking show, but the hands-down winner was Pimp My Cat. We envisioned a team of three people (probably two men and a woman) who would knock on doors and say with cheesy grins, "We're here to pimp your cat!" The result would probably look something like this. Tom thought every episode should end with the sounds of a cat yowling and hissing.

Do other couples get in silly moods like this? Do other people try to come up with absurd reality shows?

Saturday Art

I finished a painting:




I showed this as a sketch two months ago




I have one more painting to go and then I start looking for a job.

Fun in Black and White

I have finally decided to learn how to use some of the buttons on my camera. Mike's picture of Antje inspired me to try some black and white pictures.

First I went out in the yard after the rain.



I was testing the theory that everything looks artsy in black and white.


This is a view of our house from the swing in the back yard.


The family vehicles....


And when I came inside, I saw this cute little face:

My Fairy Godmother

In my dazed first few weeks of motherhood, I had a fairy godmother fantasy. I pictured a warm, gray-haired woman who would drop in and say to me and Tom, "You kids look like you could use a break. Why don't you go out for a little while and I'll watch the baby." We'd hand her the squalling infant and go out for coffee. When we got back, the baby would be clean, sweet-smelling, and asleep. The living room would be vacuumed and all the dishes would be done. "I hope you don't mind that I did some housework," she'd say with a wink. "He went to sleep right away. I know a thing or two about soothing the little ones. And the chocolate chip cookies should be done in a minute or two."

Exhausted by my Albuterol-crazed toddler, I dusted off that fantasy today. I realized it would have to be modified to fit a two-year-old. My ideal fairy godmother would probably be a bit younger and more energetic now, with only streaks of gray in her hair. She would swoop down with a new ball for Ben and an offer to run him around the yard, and then she'd take him to the pool while I read a book or bought some new summer clothes. "Don't worry," she'd say. "We'll be fine. I know a thing or two about tiring out toddlers." She'd bring him home all tuckered out, with the happy announcement that he had, for the first time, used the potty while they were out. She would unwrap the takeout lunches she'd picked up at the St. Louis Bread Company. ("I got you a roast beef sandwich on asiago cheese bread," she'd say. "I know it's your favorite. Just a little mayo, right?") Then, once Ben was down for a nap, she'd bake chocolate chip cookies and do dishes. "Oh no," she'd say, when I offered to help. "You just read Newsweek. It's important that you stay up-to-date on current events."

Oddly enough, we did go to the pool today, and I did have my favorite sandwich from the St. Louis Bread Company. I even got to read Newsweek while Ben was in his crib, vigorously not napping. We muddled through the day just fine. But a key part of the fairy godmother fantasy--besides the chocolate chip cookies--is the happy surrender to a cheerful, competent adult who is able to perform child-rearing tasks without apparent effort. As much as I like being a mother, there are days when a fairy godmother seems in order.

"magic wand" by sheeshoo on flickr.com

Where are you going, where have you been?

Interesting site of the day: go here to create a map of all the states you've visited.

I think I've done fairly well (64% of the states), though there are regions I haven't even touched. The map clearly shows the route across the country I took in 2002. Some states, I'm trying to remember; have I really never been to Michigan or Tennessee? (I'm not counting layovers in the Detroit airport.) There's also a map of countries on the same site, but I don't think I want to do one of those before I travel somewhere besides Europe or North America.



Create your own visited states map.

Considering the Lilies

Since at least one of my readers has said she likes flower pictures, today I'm going to consider my day lilies.

I remember having these in front of the townhouse we lived in when I was little, and even then I didn't like them much. They're too orange, too polleny, too untidy. I prefer smaller, more modest flowers.

But the lilies in our front garden were planted by a previous owner, and we're stuck with them unless we want to dig up the garden and start again. Lately, I've been fascinated by how the blossoms open and close. In the mornings when I go out to get the paper, they are closed and some look almost shriveled.


Some are starting to open in the first rays of sunlight.


By mid-morning, they're fully open.


Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors ever think, "There goes that crazy lady taking pictures of her flowers again."

Happy Father's Day!

Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there!

Saturday Art

I haven't finished any of the cartoon paintings so here's something else:


nineteen, oil on canvas, by Kaela Parkhouse


I finished this painting a few years ago (it's a scan of a slide so the skin tones are a little flat... but it's close enough). I did it in oil, and it's about life-sized. It's one of the few really successful oil paintings that I've ever done. Completing this was so gratifying I felt like I could be done oil painting for good (I had promised myself in college that only once I followed through with painting fully [painting full time, trying to market myself, blah blah blah] could I choose another goal. I did, and I have).

Got Culture?

I'm so excited--tonight we're going to see the St. Louis Shakespeare Festival performance of Julius Caesar. I taught the play to 9th graders three years in a row--and still have a good portion of the "I come to bury Caesar not to praise him" speech memorized--so I'm interested to see what the company does with it. It's an open-air performance in Forest Park, and you can bring your own food, blankets, and lawn chairs.

When you become a parent, attending a cultural event feels like an achievement; it's easier just to collapse on the couch at the end of the day. Luckily, our babysitter was available on short notice and we can afford the tickets (because they're free), so we can stay up past our bedtimes and absorb some culture.

Photo by iirraa on flickr.com.

Nothing To Say

It's been a long week, and it's only Thursday. I simply cannot think of anything to write today. Politics? I've done that lately, and I don't feel like getting agitated. Parenting? My kid is still cute and he still drives me crazy sometimes. Religion? Way too tired to go there. Pictures of flowers? I feel bad for inundating my readers with photos of my garden. Interesting links? I can't think of any.

I also discovered that if you google looking for poetry about "nothing to say," you find a lot of poems that aren't very good.

Stop Telling Me What To Do

This week's Newsweek contains a brief interview with Linda Hirshman, a retired philosophy professor who has been in the news lately arguing that women should not waste their education by staying home with children. If Hirshman had deliberately set out to insult me and nearly all of my friends, she couldn't have done a better job. She offers gems such as, "Don't study art--take your education seriously to prepare for a life of work." When the interviewer says, "You really think stay-at-home moms can't lead honorable, risk-taking intellectual lives?" she responds, "Right. And don't hit me with those fantastical volunteer jobs--they don't exist."

I felt a rant coming on as soon as I finished reading. Who is she to tell me what to do? Why must "a life of work" be paid employment? Why try to force women into the career-is-everthing straightjacket, instead of helping both women and men follow more flexible careers that allow them to combine work and family?

And why on earth does she think "Consider a reproductive strike" is good advice? Um, yeah, that's how I want to see my marriage--I'm labor and he's management. Somebody call in an arbitrator!

Two months ago, there was a speaker at a La Leche League enrichment meeting who was scheduled to talk about "The 7 Myths of Working Mothers." I was looking forward to hearing what she had to say--only to find she blamed feminism for many of society's problems and said that women who chose to work when their children were small were selfish and materialistic.

I'd like to lock both women in a room together and let them argue it out so the rest of us can move on with our lives. (Would that be an unfeminist thing to do?)

But seriously, I want to say to these women: Stop telling me what to do. I don't like prescriptive statements that come from the patriarchy, and I don't like them any more when they come from you.

Stop blaming women for the choices they make. Stop saying that a particular choice is right for all women. Stop trying to claim that one area of women's lives should take precedence over another.

If you honestly want to help women, then work for positive change. Meanwhile, stop telling me what to do.

Perhaps a Metaphor

Today, the sun is shining brightly, and my flowers have redoubled their efforts. Or is it foolish to speak about "effort" when it comes to flowers? They're doing what they were made to do. They don't have to be conscious to grow and bloom.


Looking at the flowers today, I am reminded of the opening lines of Louise Gluck's poem "The Red Poppy":

The great thing
is not having
a mind. Feelings:
oh, I have those; they
govern me. I have
a lord in heaven
called the sun, and open
for him, showing him
the fire of my own heart, fire
like his presence.


My dad one told me that trees, as they grow, try to make a particular shape. Each tree is programmed to branch and grow a certain way, but many factors--amount of sun and water, or quality of the soil, or competing trees nearby--influence the actual shape a tree has. Only rarely, when you see a tree standing by itself in a field, can you see the shape it was trying to be.

Within My Flower

Today I discovered that my moss roses, so glorious in the sunshine, fold into tight buds in the rain. They and this Emily Dickinson poem match my mood today.



I hide myself within my flower,
That wearing on your breast,
You, unsuspecting, wear me too —
And angels know the rest.

I hide myself within my flower,
That, fading from your vase,
You, unsuspecting, feel for me
Almost a loneliness.

Saturday Art

I love tracing paper.




If I'm just let free to do what I will, I draw very very small and with lots of gesture. But once I decided to go after illustrating for children I realized my drawings would have to be larger. And once a tiny scratchy drawing is blown up, it looks pretty bad. So I came up with this process: I scan the scratchy drawing in to the computer, blow it up, print it out and use tracing paper to refine it.

As you can see here, I was having a hard time with this one. I couldn't get a good balance of reality and gesture. The dog is supposed to be looking around the corner of a building. If I stretched his neck out any more it didn't look like the same dog I had drawn in other pictures. If he wasn't stretching at all he didn't appear to looking. He was just standing. I used one of the curly tailed versions in the final layout. I'll post that once I finish it.

Stress Test

I've been thinking about stress lately, so I thought I'd ask my readers a few questions about it.

1. Do you often feel stressed about the number or kinds of things you try to do?
2. Do you find yourself always anticipating the next thing, or do you live in the moment?
3. What aspects of your life make you the most stressed?
4. What do you do to relax?
5. On weekends, do you primarily try to relax or get things done?

Have a good weekend, everyone!

Healthy Parenting

Researchers have known for a while that an authoritative style of parenting (warm but structured) generally benefits children.

According to John Gottman, PhD, in Raising an Emotionally Intelligent Child, "While authoritarian parents characteristically impose many limits and expect strict obedience without giving children explanations, authoritative parents parents set limits but are considerably more flexible, providing their children with explanations and lots of warmth." Gottman notes that in early studies of preschool children, "children of authoritative parents were most consistently cooperative, self-reliant, energetic, friendly, and achievement-oriented." Laurence Steinberg, PhD, writes in The Ten Basic Principles of Good Parenting, "The most important thing that children need from their parents is love, but a close second is structure." (If you're looking for research-based information on parenting, both of those books are great.)

A new study reported by Cnn.com suggests another benefit of the authoritative parenting style: healthier kids. Children of authoritative parents were least likely to become overweight later on. According to the article,

To determine parenting style for the new study, researchers surveyed the mothers and observed them interacting with their children when the kids were 4 years old. The children's body mass indexes were measured later when the children were in first grade.

Seventeen percent of the children of strict disciplinarians were overweight compared to 9.9 percent of the children of neglectful parents, 9.8 percent of the children of permissive parents and 3.9 percent of the children of flexible rule-setters.

I strive for an authoritative parenting style, though I know I don't always succeed. It's nice to know, though, that all those hugs and time-outs aren't just teaching Ben love and self-control; they may help him be healthier later in life.

Strengthening Families

This Sunday at church, I had the pleasure of watching two babies in the pew in front of me. One boy, about 6 months old, sat with his parents. I've seen him at church since he was a newborn, and I always marvel at his calm, sweet face--so different from the restless baby Ben was at that age. The other child, a girl about 3 months old, sat with her parents. The babies looked at each other, and around at the stained glass and the other people. The other church-goers made silly faces right back at them; no matter how compelling the sermon or liturgy, it's hard to compete with the lure of babies. When a baby smiles at you, you can't help but feel a little touched, a little special.

I thought of those babies today when I read about George Bush's speech backing a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. Both babies are children of lesbian couples. They are real children in real families, and conservatives keep pretending they don't exist.

In explaining his support of the gay marriage ban, Bush said, "Our policies should aim to strengthen families, not undermine them." His words made me sick. How dare he couch his political position in family-friendly language? I wish he would say what he means: I want to weaken some families as much as possible.

As someone in a heterosexual marriage, let me be clear: banning gay marriage will not strengthen my own family. Regardless of the outcome of the amendment (and thank goodness it seems unlikely to pass), I still have control over my son. If my husband becomes ill, I can be by his side in the hospital. If I die, he will inherit my money. Giving those same protections to gay people in no way will weaken them for me. Instead, it will help ensure that children such as the ones I watched in church on Sunday grow up in a stable environment.

I have no problem with churches deciding they don't want to perform gay marriages. Churches are, of course, free to make their own rules when it comes to marriage; they can decide, for example, not to marry Christians and non-Christians. Gay marriage is a difficult issue, and I can respect that some people have differing opinions on the subject. But I become enraged when our President tries to pretend that legislation attacking some families is family-friendly. I reject that rhetoric completely.

I hope other straight, married couples will join me in saying to George Bush: I refuse to let my government discriminate on my behalf.

Flowers

I planted these flowers in pots on the deck last week. I forget what they're called, but they remind me of roses. I already managed to completely kill the first set of flowers in these pots (and it's not even summer yet!), so I thought I'd try a different kind.


I like this picture because you can also see the trees in our back yard, and the shade looks almost ominous.

Protecting Marriage

George Bush has decided to back a constitutional amendment banning gay marriage. According to cnn.com, Bush said in his Saturday radio address,

Ages of experience have taught us that the commitment of a husband and a wife to love and to serve one another promotes the welfare of children and the stability of society. Marriage cannot be cut off from its cultural, religious and natural roots without weakening this good influence on society.

Now, I find his contention that marriage can't be cut off from its religious roots interesting for two reasons: 1) In the U.S., people can choose to have civil weddings that have nothing to do with religion. 2) Some Christian denominations allow gay marriage.

It's the second point that often gets overlooked in the media, when "Christian" is often treated as synonymous with "conservative." I was married nearly seven years ago in a Quaker Meeting in Central Pennsylvania. It was a religious ceremony without an officiant. (Traditional Quakers have no religious leaders; the congregation ministers to each other.) The State College Friends Meeting also allows gay couples to marry. As far as I'm concerned, those couples are as married as I am--same place, same process, same marriage certificate at the end. As far as the state is concerned, though, I'm married, and they're not. The government sanctions some religious marriages and not others.

I agree with Bush, though, that marriage provides the best environment for raising children. There's a reason I waited until I was married to raise a child. It makes me sad that children of gay and lesbian parents cannot experience the benefit of being raised within a stable marriage.

But people persist in believing that gay relationships will somehow undermine straight ones. As a straight married woman, I don't understand that. My marriage is strong because I'm committed to it, not because only people like me can get married.

In the gospels, Jesus does speak about a threat to marriage: divorce. He is unambiguous on this point: "It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him give her a writing of divorcement: But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adultery: and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth adultery" (Matthew 5:31-32); "And he saith unto them, Whosoever shall put away his wife, and marry another, committeth adultery against her. And if a woman shall put away her husband, and be married to another, she committeth adultery" (Mark 10:11-12).

It always mystifies me when I read these words, because it seems like everyone (except the Catholic church) completely ignores them. We have plenty of elected and religious leaders in the U.S. who have been remarried or who have married divorced people, and no one publicly calls them adulterers. I honestly don't understand: Why do people ignore those words and focus instead on something Jesus doesn't even mention? If people are so concerned about taking the Bible literally and preserving the sanctity of marriage, why are there no constitutional amendments to ban remarriage among straight people? Do most people tacitly acknowledge that marriage has changed since the time of Jesus? Or are they just not reading the Bible?

Saturday Art

There's this pool across the street from Mike's parent's house in the Poconos. It's in the strangest place: up on a hill and completely exposed. Not private at all. I've always been facinated by it and have even painted it's portrait a few years ago (I'd post that, but I'm not at home to take its picture).



This picture nor the painting really capture the strange appeal it has in person.

The Sunshine Room

Today, Ben continues his transition to the Sunshine Room at day care. Up until now, he has been in the Hippity Hop Room, but as a two-year-old, he needs to move up to the next classroom.

Last week, when we asked Ben about the few hours he spent in his new room, he scrunched up his face and said that kids were crying. Later, he admitted that he was the one crying. Poor kid. He loves his teachers, he loves his classmates.... Why should he want to move up just because his age changed? It's only two days a week, but for those two days, these people are his world. I'm glad that the other five days a week he's with his parents, and we'll be remaining constant.

The Sunshine Room has taken on a grim cast in my mind, as if the name is some kind of Orwellian doublespeak. I know perfectly well that even when a move presents wonderful opportunities for change and growth, sometimes you just don't want to go through with it.

movin' on up