My son The Beckham

This is Leos' rules of soccer:

* Don't run past the goal.
* Don't run away from the field.
* Run too fast, but don't run too slow.
* Get a trophy.

An education.

I have to say, this year, I am not too thrilled with Kate's English teacher. From day one, my she has voiced some very strong negative opinions about 4Th grade. This is Kate, No 1 super-nerd, the girl who will actually go to the library to read up on Roman gods, and looks forward to the spelling quiz on Fridays.

Last week they read the Pied Piper of the Hamelin, an afterwards, they were told to rewrite the story making up their own characters. Instead of rats, Kate wanted the pied piper to chase out griffins (no I wasn't entire sure exactly what two animals this ancient creature was supposed to be made up of, but I told you she was a geek), but the teacher had never heard of a griffin, and had made her change the character.

Tonight she came home with some extra maths homework (not her strongest subject). Turns out she had remade the same mistake on 25 different problems - twice - and was asked to bring home to correct them a third time. After helping her, I asked her if the teacher hadn't tried explaining the mistake to her in school. Did you even ask her? I said.
- I did, but all she said was for me to follow the instructions on the top of the page.

I am now seeing red but told Kate that next time she has problem understanding something, don't leave until you get the teacher to explain it to you.
- It is your darn right as a student to be given the very best education possible, I said, and the teacher is your tool. Use it!

Granted; what if the tool is old, blunt and in need of some sharpening?

I don't really care how she does it.

So, hands up: who's watched I don't know how she does it yet?
And who liked it?
Did anyone else roll their eyes at how the scriptwriters managed to address some of the ordeals working mothers of the 21st century are battling by suggesting that as long as you can tell your boss you're making snow men with your kids, you'll be absolutely fine?
I was never a big fan of the book, but compared to the movie it's up there with Orlando and Fear of flying.



But the book does touch on some very serious aspect of the working woman's, as well as the working mother's reality. Sexual harassment, overlooked for promotions, getting less money for the same work and making up for your absence by showering your kids with guilt gifts, are every day fodder for many women, yet the movie decides to not approach this at all, or only through a little cheeky twinkle in the eye: Know what I mean (nudge, nudge)?

And of course, my question would be: why are we even pretending that women have come a long way since the dawn of Housewife, when we still watch movies and read books that explicitly saying that this is only a woman's headache.
The man of the house, regardless of his level of meterosexuality, still reserves the right to complain if he feels his wife needs to put a lid on it and start spending more time home with the kids - especially since his promotion is slightly more important than hers, and he can quietly get on with it because he knows the kids PE kit is still being packed by the wife. We all know it - yet we think the movie argument, resolved in a little movie kiss, is kind of cute, and slightly charming, 'cos who wouldn't want to be a working mother in Boston, worrying about a bake sale if the husband is Greg Kinnear?

I watched this with Kate. I laughed at the List. And the baked goods. That was about it.
She thought it was hilarious.

Family meeting

With a round of croissants, juice and black coffee, I suggest we call a family meeting.
Leo is all on board:
- I want to know what time it is. And if we can have candy.
Husband shakes his head:
- Why do we need a family meeting? We talk every night over dinner.
- That is talking and being together. This is an opportunity for us to discuss things we might want to change. Or something like that. You know, for everyone to have a chance to make decisions. (I look at husband and nod at the kids:) You know, for everyone to feel that they have a say, and are being heard. Like: I would like to talk about how you (pointing to Leo) and you (pointing to Kate) argue every morning. I think we should come up with some solutions to that. And maybe you guys have something you think mommy and daddy should change?

Leo raises his hand:
- I have something to say. I think we should go scooting.
- Well. That's good. We can talk about that.
I am grasping at straws, trying to stay upbeat.

Kate has been muttering in my husbands ear the whole time. Now she rolls her eyes.
- OK. I want to say something. I think we should change the stupid name "family meeting" to something else.
Husband nods in agreement.
Leo says:
- I have something to say. I think I should eat daddy's croissant.
- OK, I say. Maybe that is something you should just talk to daddy about?
Kate and husband are whispering about what a pointless idea this is .

- I think we should go for a walk after breakfast, Kate's finally says. I need to move. I feel so big after that breakfast.
- You don't get to say anything, I say. You decided to not be a part of the family meeting.
- Oh, come on! This is stupid. I can just get daddy to come with me. And I don't understand why we go to this place for breakfast. We should just go to Stacks and eat pancakes.

- You don't have a say. You should have thought about that ten minutes ago.