"Take Us on Outings, Bring Us Treats"

I'm sure by now you've heard about the brutally honest posting for a nanny on Craigslist. But in case you haven't.
Click on the PDF and read the original. Honest and funny. And true. So true. Way too true.
And don't forget to go down there and tell me your favorite songs. I'm going to develop a playlist!!

Children, Crying and Crying about Children

While the gander is away, the goose is busy trying to keep her head above the rain water. Okay, seriously.
Last night, I watched way too much TV. And way too much of it involved: children, death (which made me cry) or children themselves crying. Example: I was watching "The Office" (pretty safe, no kids or crying) but stupidly flipped and saw about 3.2 seconds of "Grey's Anatomy" which involved Alex getting punched out by a guy who stole his own child (toddler age) who was addicted to crack because they had been making it in the house. And then, I watched about 5 minutes of news, which, of course, had to involve child murder, etc. And then I watched some "Nightline" which in a weird convergence of reality and TV involved a girl (child) with an artificial heart who received a visit from McDreamy.
In any case, I shouldn't watch TV when I'm alone. It just makes me cry. But then I kept watching "Nightline" and it had a short segment on wine. And that didn't make me cry.
In an effort to redeem the post, let me list some happy things I've discovered while the gander is away: (not news any of them, but perhaps, only to me?, interesting)

1. I love voice-over narration. Maybe it's the fiction writer in me, but I love the voice, no matter what it says. I like to hear it. Not explaining, but commenting on.
2. I love snow in a movie. A scene with snow falling, lightly or heavily, characters walking or running. Your work is done.
3. I like foreign films. Yes, they are difficult. Those pesky subtitles. But I love to hear a foreign language. And after awhile I forget I'm reading. Really, I do.
4. I love food.
5. All these things go together of course: "Mostly Martha." I think it was Lis who recommended it. Thanks!
6. But I did cry, a few times, during this movie. So thus, the theme.
   
7. I also saw "Notes on a Scandal" last weekend. Amazing. I can't believe Judy Dench didn't win for that. I know, I'm sure Helen Mirren was amazing in "The Queen." But I can't believe she was better than JD. Omigod. An astounding film. Perhaps the best of last year. Also with a voice over. Also based on a novel. What can I say? I'm loyal.
8. I also watched "Open Season" tonight with son. I'm sure you have many nasty things to say about Aston Kucher (his name sounds like slang for women's anatomy?) but his voice and insane dialog made this movie enjoyable. Really. I'm not kidding. Usually I find him as annoying as a trucker hat on a Hollywood star. But he was funny. The whole movie was funny. Sorry.
9. I like to not cook and have Wild Oats sushi for dinner with Wild Oats soda and Wild Oats cookies. Why not?
10. Who takes out the garbage when the gander is away? The goose. That's right! The goose!
11. When the gander's away the goose has to do fucking everything. Is that fair I ask you?
    
12. Am I a goose? And what does that mean, really?

Tomorrow I must go to the market (rain or no rain) and fetch some tomatoes if there are any to be had, and most importantly, a pumpkin for Son. It is never too early in October for Pumpkin buying. I anxiously await the weekend I can buy a sugar pie Pumpkin and make a pie. Yum.
Son is already looking forward to Christmas. Today he asked, "Why can't we sometimes just stay here for Christmas?"
I told him we were staying here for Christmas and he was happy. Not so happy about the fact that we have to get a small Christmas tree (so to avoid chewing by the Gus dog). But we came up with some possible ways to hide the tree from Gus, so we'll see. But he's happy, so that's good. He being Son.
MB returns on Sunday to a house filled with dirty dishes and, hmm, we'll see, tomatoes? In any case, he'll have his hands full as I have some papers to grade and have made no progress thus far.
What? What's that you say? I can watch "30 Rock" on-line? Must run. Kiss-kiss.

Danger

In light of the shootings at Virginia Tech, I feel it is appropriate to reopen the question of guns in the classroom, something we've been discussing in our fair state for, oh, ever. But not only that. Not only guns on campus, because, as gun rights advocates state, even if we have rules, people will break them. But guns in general.
When I was on a ferry once from England to Ireland a nice man asked me "Why do Americans love guns so much?" What could I say? I'm an American. I don't love guns. He referred to a deadly school shooting in Scotland and said that less than a month afterwards it was more difficult to get a gun in Scotland. "Why doesn't America do that?" he asked. Why indeed.
But I've gotten off track. I meant to say that, as a teacher, I don't want to be afraid that a student who got a bad grade will hunt me down. I don't want to be afraid that a student will come in and threaten me with a gun. I don't want to be afraid that the classroom will not be a place for the free and open exchange of sometimes unpopular ideas because students are afraid that a peer might not agree and bring a gun.
As a parent, I'm afraid that my son will encounter a bully with a gun, or anyone with a gun, at his school. Probably not at the school he attends now, but he can't go there forever.
Even more, as an American, I'm sick of having to turn the channel when an ad for a violent TV show or movie comes on when I'm watching TV at 7 pm with my son. I'm sick of our culture that thinks killing and violence is entertaining. I'm sick of watching PG-13 movies that treat violence as an everyday occurrence that we should not react to with outrage and horror.
Show a nipple and you get an X rating. Show hundreds of people being murdered by machine gun fire, PG-13. (I don't know this for a fact, but based on my own movie viewing, this seems to be true).
What I'm really sick of is turning on the radio and hearing that someone, any one, the number does not matter, has been killed by another lunatic with a gun. I'm tired of gun rhetoric. I don't feel like I need a gun, and I sure as hell don't think anyone should be able to buy one at their local big box retailer.
I'm sick of lines like "guns don't kill people, people kill people." Sorry. A person without a gun is just an angry person. An angry person with a gun can kill someone. I can deal with an angry student. I do it more often than I'd like. An angry student with a gun is, unfortunately, sometimes a murderer.
My thoughts are with the survivors in Virginia. My thoughts can't do a lot. How about a law?

Happy VD!

Inspired by Dean Dad's Valentine's Day post (well, maybe more by some of the comments, though the post itself was very sweet), I've decided to tell you a heartwaming story about how Middlebrow and I got together (exactly 10 years ago!).
First let me say that we went on three dates before we even kissed. On date three, we talked about couples we admired, people who seemed to have genuine partnerships and equality. We talked about how we didn't want to be like our parents (his still married, mine divorced and married to new partners), mostly because we didn't like the imbalance we observed. Among the people we admired were professors in the department where we were both graduate students. One couple we liked for their choices: one car, they took turns cooking and caring for their children, and they both were (are) successful in their respective fields. That, we said, was how we wanted to be. Let me remind you, we hadn't even kissed yet!
Maybe a week or so after we actually kissed, it was Valentine's Day. We agreed that we were against it, Middlebrow mostly because of his employment at a grocery store where, on February 14th, he saw man after man come through his line with a card and a bunch of flowers. Original. So though we don't celebrate this holiday (that is, after all, just another way for companies to get you to buy their products), I'm always reminded that we "got together," as the euphemism goes, right around this time.
It's mind boggling to think that we started dating 10 years ago. (Just for the record, we got engaged after we dated for four months, though I lied and told my parents it had been six months and we got married after we had been engaged for a year). We got engaged after we had the "what are we doing next year?" talk in the kitchen of my apartment. I said something like "I'm not living with someone ever again unless I'm married." We had already decided we wanted to go to graduate school. The next day we were grading papers in a cafe and Middlebrow looked at me and said, "What happened last night? Did we decide to get married?"
But looking back, we have done most of what we talked about on that third date. We finished graduate school, sharing the childcare the whole time. We both have jobs, and we still split the childcare (though I have to say that, lately, Middlebrow has done more than I have). We both cook and do laundry (though, of course, I think I do more of both); Middlebrow does all the man things like killing spiders and plunging toilets and fixing bathrooms.
But, all in all, we have a very equal arrangement. We both like to sit around and read. We like to drink wine and watch movies. Is this not, I ask you, the basis of all good relationships?
And just a note in response to some of those comments over at Dean Dad: some women want to stay home with their kids. I know many women who do and are perfectly content. I'm just not one of those people. But I'm glad I could make the choice I did, and I'm glad I found a person who wanted to make those same choices. This, to me, is one of the great rewards of feminism: we get to invent what we want home, marriage, and family to mean to us. Not that we judge women who make choices we would not make. But that support exists for women to make a variety of choices, and that we support and facilitate each other's choices. (I recognize not all women are free to choose. And we work to change that. But some women are free to choose. And we support that.)
On that note: Happy Valentine's Day!!

The Tyranny of the Child's Birthday Party

As Middlebrow and I sat last night contemplating where (o where?) we might be able to have Son's 6th Birthday party, we remembered: we never had no stinking parties!!
When we were kids, we maybe had a few friends over and played pin the tail on the donkey. Since my birthday is in December, we couldn't have an outdoor party. I don't remember any parties from when I was a kid. Except when I was in 8th grade and my best friend and I had a joint birthday party at the Holiday Inn. Complete with sleep over at the hotel, swimming and miniature golf. Those were the days, baby!
But as I edged nearer to a nervous breakdown last night, wrestling with the guilt I would feel if we didn't invite everyone, imagining the school ostracisim of us, the exclusive partiers, trying to figure out how we were going to either a) pay for every child in his Kindergarten class to go bowling or b) fit everyone in his Kindergarten class into our 500 sq. ft. home, Middlebrow came up with an elegant solution so simple it boggled the mind: no party.
What? you will say. No party! But listen here: I hardly ever had parties, and I turned out fine. When Son was 4 we took his whole pre-school class bowling. Were we nuts? yes! It was insane!
Last year we invited just the boys to our house for a Spiderman birthday.
But this year: Middlebrow will take Son and a friend or two for an afternoon extravaganza. The benefits: no presents! no paper plates! no pizza and cake to throw away! no goodie bags!
Son and I will make a cake to his specifications. Frosting! Decorations! Hooray!
And we don't have to spend $200 to do it! Ah, the liberation of simplicity!