the OTHER mother

The Dinner Bell

When Marcia and Pearl went to Montessori play school last fall, they fell in love with a chair.  Check out the rasberry red Stokke KinderZeat.  It arrived via ebay auction on Thursday, and despite our lack of handywoman skills, we somehow managed to assemble it on Friday. 

Since then we've been eating dinner together as a family. It's a bit like Leave It To Beaver except in this case Beaver a.k.a. Pearl speaks exclusively in tongues.

Back in the 60s and 70s, both Marcia and I ate with our families every night.  We both have our separate memories of storytelling, questions, and connections made around a round table.  When we started our conversations about family life, as we were preparing for Pearl's arrival, it was one of the rituals we decided we'd like to keep. 

So even though we aren't up to preparing elaborate 5 course meals, we have embarked on this all-American famiy ritual.  Sometimes our hot food is dependent upon Collina's, the local pizzaria that delivers in our neighborhood.  But we sit down together to break bread each night. 

If you're in the Woodland Heights area around 6 p.m., we hope you will stop by and join us.

Who's Fit?

As a lesbian mom, I was disappointed and even angry to read President Bush's statement about gay families last week.  Here's a quote from W:

"And I believe children can receive love from gay couples, but the ideal is -- and studies have shown that the ideal is where a child is raised in a married family with a man and a woman."

What studies did Mr. Bush have in mind?  No specifics given, as usual.  Here's how the spokesperson from the Human Rights Coalition responded:

"Every credible study has shown that sexual orientation has no affect on parenting ability," said HRC Political Director Winnie Stachelberg. "Adoption should be about what's best for the child, not appealing to a political base. The nation's leading child welfare, psychological and children's health organizations agree that gay parents make just as good parents as straight ones."

"With so many children in foster care in need of permanently nurturing homes, it's critically important that we put science before ideology when making family policy decisions," she added. 

I find myself worrying about who this administration is going to marginalize next.  It's getting scary.

The Politics of Mommy Blogging

I've read several ultra-brilliant responses to the already infamous New York Times article on Moms who blog.  If you missed it, here's an excerpt:

Today's parents - older, more established and socialized to voicing their emotions - may be uniquely equipped to document their children's' lives, but what they seem most likely to complain and marvel about is their own. The baby blog in many cases is an online shrine to parental self-absorption.

Has somebody missed the point here or what?

I'm a proud if not card-carrying member of the DotMoms group, who got mentioned, by the way, and the group's discussion of the NYT article has been smart and passionate.  We rarely communicate with one another except through the group blog--until now.  The conversation may be leading to an e-forum in the near future.  I'll keep you posted.

If you haven't seen the articulate rebuttals across the blogosphere, check out what Shannon, Andrea, and MUBAR have to say on the matter.  And thanks to Amy S. for sending me the article.

Teething Days

It gets to a point like this.  You realize that you and your partner are sitting around discussing the beauty of your child's teeth again.  Who knew that there could be enough material possible to actually have a conversation on the topic.  Repeatedly. 

Pearl has an ear infection this week.  It's her second one.  She has a cold to go with it.  And two new teeth.  She feels worse at night (horizontals are challenging) than in the daytime.  I am thinking we will all feel better after a peaceful weekend.

The Jake Files

Here's something I wrote about Jake for the Writers in the Schools newsletter in 2001.

Letter from the Director [that's me!]

My dog Jake is not a great writer, and yet he has managed to teach me a few important things about how to live my life.

Jake is a foundling.  I found him in June on a Sunday afternoon.  People were playing baseball in the park.  He’d been hit by a car and was limping.  He followed me for miles.

Maybe I am the foundling.  He did find me, in a sense.  I was chosen.

That week I was sitting in a 3^rd grade classroom in our summer camp.  They were sharing news of the day and practicing description.  I described (poorly, so as to receive assistance) my new puppy. 

The next day I received a note from a student in that group, Chelsea, who wrote, “Dear Ms. Robin, Take good care of your puppy.”  I have tried my utmost.

As a steadfast puppy observer (severely biased by parenthood) I have abstracted a few mojos that I suspect to be the guiding principles of Jake.

But first, let me provide a few vital statistics:

Name: Jake

Memorable features: polka dot eyebrows, floppy right ear flops, missing the right hind leg

Age: almost 3

Likes: peanut butter, bones, people food, treats, running like wind, swimming in the bayou, assisting in household chores as the sous chef in the kitchen, jr. gardener in the yard, laundry boy, etc.

Dislikes: taking a bath, his sister Moriah the cat

Nicknames by loved ones: Jacob, J-Chamber, Glow dog, Poco, Poky, Pokemon, Jakomon

Nicknames by strangers: Tripod, Troika, Lucky, Hopalong

And now, Life according to Jake:

• If you don’t know what something is, smell it.  If you still aren’t sure, taste it.

• When you want something, but someone else has it, ask for it.  If that doesn’t work, beg.  If THAT doesn’t work, do some tricks.
• When someone makes you nervous, keep moving.  When you have a good feeling about someone, strike up a friendly conversation.  If they ignore you, keep moving. 
• Every decision is an everyday decision.  If you make a mistake, keep moving.
• If your people are sick, give them a big kiss and stick close by for a while.
• Joy is everywhere.  It is not hiding.  It is ours for the taking.

So by the grace of a dog, I keep my eyes and ears open.  I try to pay attention to the wonders on either side of my path. The classroom is everywhere.

All About Jake

Thanks for your wonderful messages about our dog.  Here's what happened on Saturday morning.  Jake, Pearl, and I were out in the front yard, walking around and visiting with our neighbors.  Lots of people were chatting.  One neighbor had a small yard sale going on.  Several had not seen Pearl walk before.  Excitement. 

Then Pearl draped herself across Jake's back, or perhaps she actually fell onto him.  It surprised him.  He wheeled around and snapped.  The bite did not break the skin, but she was extremely upset.  I was extremely upset.  Jake did not seem to think he had done anything wrong.  In his doggy way, he may have actually been playing with her.  It did not seem malicious or vicious in nature, but he was startled, and he did bite her.  There were dots on her face from the teeth marks. 

Jake is a foundling.  One June summer day seven years ago, we discovered him limping along the White Oak Bayou.  To be more accurate, he really discovered us. 

We were enjoying a Sunday morning walk.  He followed us for miles.  He was just a puppy and one back leg was injured.  Because the park is so public, we were concerned that he had an owner who would come looking for him so we left him there.  That day we returned to the park to see if he'd been claimed.  On our third trip, it was late afternoon.  He was underneath the bleachers of the baseball field, hoping for edible trash to fall through.  It was hot, over 100 degrees.  Marcia asked all the baseball fans in Spanish, Is this your dog?  Does this puppy have an owner?  Everyone said, no.  So Jake came home with us.  Our friend Mary Zimmer brought us a leash, dog food, a bowl.  He's been a part of our family ever since.

We named him Jacob from the Bible story, in part because of his injury.  When Jacob wrestled with the angel, he eventually received G-d's blessing, but in the process in was smote on the hip.  The story seemed to match.  After an unsuccessful surgery, the bad leg was amputated.  Based on the X-rays, the doctors believe that he was hit by a car.  So Jake is a three-legged dog.  Off leash, he runs remarkably fast.  His nature is absurdly cheerful.  Marcia's father, a minister, has actually delivered sermons about him.

Jake is a mutt, part chow and part German Shepherd.  The shepherd part of him is very determined to keep our "flock" together.  He has a strong desire to integrate, to be a part of our pack.  Separation, to his mind, is punishment.  The chow part of him makes him occasionally high-strung and anxious; the fact that he was abandoned as a pup may add to that.  He loves routines, and change unsettles him. 

Before Pearl arrived, his anxiety became an issue only when we went on vacation.  Adding Pearl to the pack meant that the rules changed for Jake, and they continue to change as she has become more mobile and able to interact with him.   

We sent an email seeking a new family for Jake on Saturday.  No one has expressed an interest.  In the meantime, we have created some new structures to keep everyone safe.  Our friends Lynda Grindrod and Trish Herrera have helped us rethink our strategies, and the new plan is keeping everyone safe.  Jake is separated from Pearl by see-through gates.  Before this bite, we didn't use the safety gates consistently, and every time we did use them, Jake yelped and complained at a high volume.  Now he seems to have adjusted to this change.  Maybe it's even a relief to him because he has not understood how to interact with a baby. 

At night Pearl goes to bed at 6.  Then the gates go down and Jake lounges with us as we talk or read or write.  Who knows.  Maybe it will work out that we can keep him after all.  That's what I am not-so-secretly hoping.

My Boy

I can not begin to express my sadness.  We are officially looking for a new family for our beloved dog Jake.  What can I say?  He is my boy.

Long Distance/Runners

As far as I am concerned, "long distance" is a kind of telephone call.  But for thousands of people, this phrase means MARATHON. 

The Houston Marathon route comes within a block of our house.  Last weekend Charlie and Ethan came over, and we bundled ourselves up at 7:15 a.m. and went to cheer like crazy for friends and strangers, alike. 

Although I never struggled through a distance greater than 5K, my brother is the other sort.  He has completed marathons, ironman triathalons, and and even an ultra (100 miles straight).  He even organizes a marathon in rural Arkansas where we grew up.  This is for you, if you want to sprint through farmland for 26.2 miles next fall.

Eureka

Pearl's curiosity is growing like a crazy weed.  She wants to know about new things, and she recognizes familiar things.  All day long she points at objects and makes her favorite comment: ahunh! 

Ahunh must be a very special word like shalom perhaps, because seems  to have many different meanings.  Sometimes it can be a question:  ahunh?  Sometimes it sounds like both at the same time.  How does one understand?  Context, context, context. 

She recognizes people in photographs.  Comment = ahunh!  A banana in the grocery store?   Comment = ahunh!  Sometimes she just points wildly until her finger finds something interesting.  The process is completely vigorous.

Yesterday Pearl discovered something new, something small and white and hanging in the sky.  You might call it the moon, but Pearl just pointed and exclaimed ahunh! It was a half moon that had begun to rise by mid-afternoon.  She wanted it very much so she followed it, just like in the storybooks.  She didn't capture it at that time, but one of these days I feel pretty sure she will.

All-Mom Bands Rock Housewife Stereotype

Here's a story from today's news.  I have a feeling these bands may involve some of my friends from the blogosphere.  It's time to confess right this minute!

DALLAS (AP) - They're housewives, workaholics, PTA members and ... rock stars?

Women fighting to shatter the stay-at-home-mom stereotype and rediscover their youthful voice are forming bands, such as Housewives on Prozac in suburban New York, Frump in Dallas and Placenta in Oakland, Calif.

These moms are rocking the house and the cradle, singing about breast-feeding, exhaustion and making kids do their chores.

"I feel like what we do is remind people about their passion and that sense of importance and that sense of vitality,'' said Joy Rose, a 47-year-old mother of four who founded Housewives on Prozac in 1997. ``Life is really short and it's important to live colorfully.''

Mothers have struggled for identity and fulfillment for decades, growing more exasperated with their increasing career and child-rearing demands, said University of Michigan professor Susan Douglas, who co-authored the book "The Mommy Myth.''

She said those feelings may explain the growing number of mom rock bands. (Rose estimated there are about 50 active mom bands across the country, with 20 of them having been formed in the last year.)

"In our cultural common sense, what could be more opposite from the icon of mom than a punk rocker?'' Douglas said.

Suzie Riddle, who has three children aged 19, 12 and 6, started Frump in 2001 as a gag for her 40th birthday party. A punk rocker in her youth, then a librarian, Riddle hounded other mothers at her church and her daughters' school until she found three women willing to play along.

At first, they performed five songs, including "Suzie Is A Headbanger'' by the Ramones and "We're Really Beat,'' a song Frump guitarist Frances Peterson wrote to the tune of "We've Got the Beat'' by the Go-Go's.

"See the mothers driving down the street, see their makeup melting in the heat, straight from work, the pantyhose are tight, it's take-out tonight,'' the song begins.

Three years later, the band has grown to five, adding new members as others have moved away. Frump practices every Saturday night and performs about once a month at parties, churches and community events such as the Punky Mamas Christmas Bazaar in Dallas.

The band members even encouraged their daughters to get involved, and the girls formed their own band called Spawn and have played at two gigs with their moms.

"It is the best feeling in the world,'' said Frump lead guitarist Diane Harris, whose 11-year-old daughter Anna plays drums in Spawn.

Frump is still trying to forge an identity, teetering between being a novelty and a serious band, Riddle said. She'd like to add a second weekly practice and focus on cultivating a unique sound.

But any group that bills itself as an all-mom garage band is going to get a few chuckles, she conceded.

"I am really proud of this and I'm proud of the attention that it's gotten us,'' she said. "It's kind of a silly idea and a lot of people have taken notice.''

At the Punky Mamas bazaar, an audience of mostly middle-aged women and their children clapped and tapped their feet to Frump's music, even getting up to dance to "Twist and Shout.'' A few young couples on a Saturday evening date watched from the back of a half-full dance hall.

Julie Hougland came with her 6-year-old daughter, her 55-year-old mother and her 35-year-old sister. She said she was surprised by how much fun they had.

"How many venues are there where I can take my daughter and dance?'' Hougland said.

Rose hopes the movement soon will catch on commercially as more people see mom bands in concert. Housewives on Prozac has recorded two CDs and a holiday CD single, which is available on Amazon.com.

Several mom bands will converge on New York City throughout May for the fourth annual Mamapalooza festival. The festival, founded by Rose, will feature at least five days of events, including a free outdoor concert and a poetry and jazz night.

And for the first time, Mamapaloozas are planned for Dallas, Detroit, Nashville and San Francisco. The Nashville event will be held May 17-18, but the others haven't yet been scheduled.

"It's kind of been this whirlwind ride of mother rockers spreading the good word that life isn't over after 40, that music and creativity are still alive,'' Rose said.

For more info:

Housewives on Prozac

Frump

Mamapalooza

By LIZ AUSTIN
.c The Associated Press

Photo Caption:  Marcia (the OTHER mother's other) and her very male nephew Connor.

Not One Dime

Happy MLK Day to you.  Here's a protest option I received in an email.  Have you considered participating in this on Thursday?

Not One Dime Day - Jan 20, 2005

Since our religious leaders will not speak out against the war in Iraq and since our political leaders don't have the moral courage to oppose the war, Inauguration Day, Thursday, January 20th, 2005 is "Not One Damn Dime Day" in America.

On "Not One Damn Dime Day" those who oppose what is happening in our name in Iraq can speak up with a 24-hour national boycott of all forms of consumer spending. During "Not One Damn Dime Day" please don't spend money. Not one damn dime for gasoline. Not one damn dime for necessities or for impulse purchases. Not one damn dime for anything for 24 hours.

On "Not One Damn Dime Day," please boycott Wal-Mart, Kmart, or Target.

Please don't go to the mall or the local convenience store. Please don't buy any fast food, eat at a restaurant, or buy groceries. For 24 hours, please do what you can to shut the retail economy down. The object is simple. Remind the people in power that the war in Iraq is immoral and illegal; that they are responsible for starting it and that it is their responsibility to stop it. "Not One Damn Dime Day" is to remind them, too, that they work for the people of the United States of America, not for the international corporations and K Street lobbyists who represent the corporations and funnel cash into American politics.

"Not One Damn Dime Day" is about supporting the troops. Now 1,200 brave young Americans and (some estimate) 100,000 Iraqis have died. The politicians owe our troops a plan - a way to come home. There's no rally to attend. No marching to do. No left or right wing agenda to rant about. On "Not One Damn Dime Day" you take action by doing nothing.

You open your mouth by keeping your wallet closed. For 24 hours, nothing gets spent, not one damn dime, to remind our religious leaders and our politicians of their moral responsibility to end the war in Iraq and give America back to the people.

Please share this email with as many people as possible. Commercial speech must not be the only free speech in America!

Bball and All

Marcia said something interesting about our different styles of parenting.  It has to do with how we watch Pearl during her play time.  It may make more sense to you if you know a little about basketball (go, Comets, go). 

Two of the basic theories of defense in basketball are "man to man" and "zone" defense.  I guess M's strategy is "man to man" or in our case, woman to baby.  She sticks closer to Pearl, as Pearl experiences all things great and small--the dog's food bowl, for example.  During her play time, I tend to encourage independent activities and often I "multitask," shall we say.  I listen for unusual sounds and hope for the best.  So far, we've had no disasters either way (knock on some wood).

One factor that should be acknowledged is that because Pearl nurses and Marcia is the birth mom, their bond is tighter.  When Pearl feels needy, and a choice is available, she will go to Marcia.  With me, Pearl is much more independent.  She views me as a separate person from herself.  With M, the boundaries are probably not as clear.

That said, I'm wondering if either of these strategies sounds familiar to you?  How do you hover, as your toddler explores our universe?

Over at DotMoms

Today I've posted a story about equality on the DotMoms blog.  Follow the link to check it out.

Time In

Now that we have a bonafide toddler on our hands, we're starting to consider the wonderful world of "discipline" for the first time.  We tend to think in terms of rituals and structures in the day that will help our daughter (and us) know what to expect, what happens next.  Although we don't tend to be clockwatchers, we have a certain order of events each day and a bedtime that we keep unless it's a very special occasion. 

Obviously, Pearl's safety is our primary concern here.  We don't want an obedient child so much as a sensible one who takes a bath in the tub, not the toilet. 

Many of our friends use the "time out" as a way to create a pause, especially with kids a little older than Pearl.  We've been rereading the almighty Sears book, and they add to the list of choices the "time in" method for young children.  A "time in" involves bringing a frantic child closer to you rather than farther apart.  As you might guess, a la Sears this means the sling.  Although we haven't "done" attachment parenting in all respects, the sling has worked well for Pearl in the past [see photo above]. 

Have you tried out "time in" with your child?  What structures have worked in your family?

New Shoes

Bye bye to the Robeez.  Gram bought Pearl her first pair of leather shoes yesterday. 

Pearl is twirling and swirling around the house (punctuated by loud THUMPS as she lands on the ground) in her new brown boots.  No worries, mate.  She climbs back up again.

Shoes represent a big change, but she's adjusting.  Even the angels want to wear these beauties.

The Swing Set

I've mentioned repeatedly that we have no handy skills in our family.  So when our friends gave Pearl a swing set, they knew to bring their drills and wrenches.  Here, Charlie, Ketria, and Ethan are installing something wonderful on our back deck.  Jake helped!

Friends

According to the developmental theories about children, Pearl is not yet old enough to "play well with others."  And yet at rare times she really does play well. 

Here she's pushing her friend Trinidad around the house in her red wagon.  They're wearing coats because we're getting ready to go outdoors to enjoy Lights in the Heights, a big neighborhood celebration.

Books that Struck the Mark

This is in response to Julie's post at Mom in the Mirror.  Her question is, "What books changed your life?"  The answer is: so many.  And yet, although I have pondered this for a week now, the titles have not flooded my brain. 

Transformative books depend on a synchronicity of text and time. For a book to change your life, you have to read it at the right time.  You are probably on the crest of the wave of change already, and the book provides the extra push.  Or, to mix up the metaphors even more, the text crystalizes an understanding that was in your mind already but was disorganized.  So, for example, many friends talk about Catcher in the Rye as a life-changing book that they read as young teenagers, but I didn't read it until I was 24 years old.  Needless to say, it had a less palpable effect on me, even though I consider it a good book.

Here's my first attempt at a list, and if I continue to revise my answer for the next two years, you can't say I didn't warn you.  I've put them in chronological order, based on when I read them, beginning at age 15.

Demian by Hermann Hesse

U.S.A. (the trilogy) by John Dos Passos

The Heart is a Lonely Hunter by Carson McCullers

Pieces by Robert Creeley

The Book of Laughter and Forgetting by Milan Kundera

Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert Pirsig

The Color Purple by Alice Walker

One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Doctor Sax by Jack Kerouac

3 Lives by Gertrude Stein

Ghost Dance by Carole Maso

The Sea of Light by Jenifer Levin

The Shipping News by E. Annie Proulx

The Passion by Jeanette Winterson

Elizabeth Bishop: Life and the Memory of It by Brett Millier

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy

The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle by Haruki Murakami

If you ever had any doubt about me being a complete egghead, now you know for sure.  Feel free to add your own list in the comment section below. 

And She's Off

Walking, Pearl style, continues to look less like practice and more like a coup d'etat.  It's been less than a month, but she's really getting her groove on now. 

New flourishes include two doubled-up fists shaken not stirred at shoulder height.  The signs of self-determination are unmistakable.  No assertiveness training needed around here, ladies and gentlemen. 

She seems to be saying to the world: be afraid.  Be very afraid.

The Joker

We're getting a total-immersion introductory course on toddler humor 101 this week. 

Today Pearl found and picked up her pink hoodie in one room and brought it to us.  She laughed and laughed and laughed.  It was a very funny joke.