Liberty Science Center or what we learned last Saturday

So many great things happen when you are a mom blogger.  Because of my fortunate and fun association with the NYC Moms Blog my family and I were invited to visit the Liberty Science Center in Jersey City, New Jersey this past Saturday.  Located on the sparkling edge of the Liberty State Park we were first treated to a spectacular view of Manhattan - all because of a wrong turn by the driver (moi) - but I digress.  

Inside the newly refurbished museum - after a bizarrely thorough security check - we were invited to watch Sesame Street movie introducing kids to the moon and stars.  The show was a little young for my crew but it gave me a chance to reminisce about the toddler days while still walking out with my capable tweens.  Then we sat in for a demonstration of the amazing and remarkable qualities of liquid nitrogen.  Even Grandma - who isn't impressed by much anymore thought Katie and her show were noteworthy.  My fave:  The balloons added to a box filled with liquid nitrogen that flattened into pancakes with puddles of liquid air in the bottom.  The balloons then fully expanded back into their round, plump selves when out in the air for a minute or two.  Fascinating!

We were also lucky enough to learn about a tarantula, touch a snake - I made myself do it even tho' I truly have a snake phobia.  Then we watched an Australian Marine frog attempt an unwily escape - walking off the table at one point.  

Finally, we took in one floor of the museum where the kids rode a gyroscope, "spray-painted" graffiti and we all created "communication bubbles" on a computer screen.  We were bushed after that so decided to head home. (Yes, we got lost again! And this time the views were considerably less spectacular.)  Only later did I learn of all the amazing other exhibits - the skyscraper, the bubble creator that we'll have to go back for another time.  All in all, it was a great day and really gave me a look at a place I always meant to go but never got around to.  And, hey we all learned a little, too. 

When This All Began . . .

I started this blog with a grand concept - talk to other women - moms who were managing to raise effective, smart, funny, loving children while having a life of their own - working at something they were passionate about that helped them feel fulfilled and satisfied in some way.  

I have lost that thread - it started to feel like I was exploiting other people's lives for blog fodder when really what I was searching for was a way to get a handle on creating a life like that for myself.  Having spent the last nine years devoting myself to "the kids" and the years before that just waiting to have "the kids" - embarrassing to admit now but I was waiting for my kids - I am aching to find that new life - that satisfying career - I just don't know how to fit into it. 

Perhaps the name of this blog is my wishful thinking then - I'm aiming to be a mom who rocks it.  But right now I'm trying to figure out how to dress my un-worked-out body in something that says serious creative person for meetings and presentations in a week and a half when all I can manage to find to fit me are black skirts that look too wide and black tops that feel too tight and I have been in a conference room twice in the last fifteen years.  HELP!

Sometimes Mom Needs A Little Love

I was invited to a Nintendo Wii Fit event last week at the fab Bliss Spa in the W Hotel on Lexington.  It was billed as a "mom playdate" - a chance for mom to be taken care of in her busy days leading up to the holidays.  I went because I said I would - but couldn't help thinking  I really didn't need downtime, instead, maybe I'd suggest to my dear Nintendo contact that the next event include children.  

Then I got there.  They took charge of my next two hours in the most comforting, soothing and well, even inspiring way and I realized that maybe these lovely people who put together events for mom bloggers really are doing it because they know we need a little something to reenergize us.  

First, they did my nails - which "oh my gawd!" did I need. Next, an arm massage - that was lovely but I kept aching for her to work over my shoulders, too.  Then I was treated to personal trainer instruction on the Wii Fit by - as you can imagine - an enthusiastic, informed and super-encouraging personal trainer, Ary Nunez.  I learned everything there was to know about the Wii Fit - gratefully Ary allowed my to by-pass the BMI measure in her presence - and I felt inspired to really work on getting back in shape in my own home.  Unfortunately, the auxiliary input connection on my TV is on the fritz - thus my workout program has yet to begin - really! - but I am feeling like the Wii Fit could help me get in shape while having fun with my kids and not really thinking about working out - kind of like when we were kids and managed to exercise and call it fun!   

Does It Really Take 13 Years To Break A Kid's Spirit?

Or why do we send our kids to school to be educated? 

 

I read an interview with a this funky, crazy writer in the NY Times last week and in it Charles McGrath, the reporter mentioned a bumper sticker on her husband's car "School takes 13 years because that's how long it takes to break a child's spirit."  The writer, Carolyn Chute and her husband live this "off the land" life in rural Maine so you wouldn't necessarily expect them to join in the realm of standard education, but the bumper sticker sums up my endless ambivalence about public education.  

Then, this morning, well, as these things do from time to time, the concern came home to roost.  My boy, while getting ready for school suddenly became very sullen and even a little teary.  When asked, he explained that his teacher told him he couldn't write about soccer anymore for his "Weekend News".  He's written about soccer every week since school began and she's decided he needs to branch out.  So, like a dutiful mother raised herself in the public school system, I suggested other things that happened over the weekend that he might write about:  when he met daddy's college roommate and his teenage daughters for lunch perhaps.  Or when his football rolled into a dirty puddle and the guy from the graffiti store came out with paper towel to clean it so he and dad continue to play while running errands.  His reply was there's no emotion in those things.  I tried to point out the emotions: happy, relieved, curious.  He wasn't having it which could be explained as stubborn.  or it could be that he is passionate about soccer and just loves to write about that and so why can't he?  Seems a fairly arbitrary suggestion on the part of the teacher - whom I love - so this is not a diatribe against her.  But if David Beckham was seven and we knew he'd grow up to be David Beckham wouldn't we let him write about soccer every week at school if he wanted to?  

Now, I'm not suggesting my kid is the next David Beckham but he does want to grow up to play for the Yankees - will the same rule apply when Little League season rolls around?  Or what about when Mitch Albom was a boy - was he allowed to write every week about sports - he grew up to make a successful career of it ultimately branching out into other topics when he was ready.  So, I'm just wondering why it is the teacher feels the need to eliminate a topic of writing for one boy instead of letting him write about it until it's no longer of interest for him.  

And as I struggle to provide explanations for my boy - well, sometimes we have to do what is asked of us even when we don't agree - then I wonder what he is really learning - to follow rules, tow the line however arbitrary it might be?  I want to raise kids who follow their passion and live according to what gets them most jazzed - not what pleases the most powerful person in the room.    

Thankful Thursday

Recently a friend shared with me the idea of writing down five things you were happy about every day before going to bed.  It is supposed to increase your general happiness everyday.  I've made it a habit that I'm extending here.

Five Great Things

1)  Two healthy kids - maybe that is two things?

2)  A husband who still makes me laugh after 19 years

3)  A school I feel great about sending my kids to

4)  Coffee - when I stay up to late and have to get up too early

5)  New York City - where I can walk anywhere and see the most amazing, freaky, cool things daily.

Wishing you five (or more) great things today.  

They Need Me More Than Ever

One thing I am learning as my children age is how much more they need me then I ever realized about kids of nine and seven.  It's funny because you sort of think once they can feed themselves, fall asleep on their own, wipe their butts and tie their shoes well, then parenting is just about getting them to school on time and making sure they don't watch too much TV. But it  is so much more now, so much more complex, so much more intense.  They want to know things now and not just details like why the sky is blue.  They want to know what to do when a friend says something mean or a teacher won't let them go to the bathroom.  They want to know why countries go to war and why someone would kill Martin Luther King.  

And, sometimes they want to know things you think they already do.  We were playing Yahtzee last night - a game we've played before - and I was suggesting my son take his score in his ones row.  He looked at me in dire frustration and said, "I don't know how to talk Yahtzee!"  And I realized for all he does know, all his ability to decipher the Wii way better than me, to play the DS with a sure and steady hand, that there are still things he doesn't know and it is still my job to guide him.

And it made me feel a glad to know he still needs me.

Her Hand Is Bigger Now

No longer plump with the extra pudge of toddlerhood when tiny fingers and cushy palms slipped - sweaty and small into my thin, bony mitts.  Thick around the knuckles but delicate in the digit, I took photos of her hand in mine in those early years with the idea to record its growth with this comparison shot every year.  Along the way somewhere I forgot my vow.

Now, today, she seems so grown, her thoughts rife with complexity, she astounds me.  I notice her hands as she fashions a shadow puppet on the wall.  Thinner, much thinner than those toddler hands, longer, more dextrous, still they are a child's hands with extra flesh and the stubby blunt fingernails easier for climbing.  They meet in small ways as she constructs ephemeral art with them.  Bracelets of colored elastic adorn her wrists still her fingers are too small for proper rings.  Her nails she keeps short and only occasionally polished.  

I am grateful to know in all her maturity, in all her distance from that cherub I attachment parented with momma gorilla-like ferocity, she is still a girl, my child, an angel of heart-rending proximity for at least a few more years.