Big Mother Will See you

A few days ago I met a mother who confessed to be using a nanny cam, or, as we were standing around the snack table at a 4th birthday party, it was a comment on the state of good nannies more than a apologetic
Apparantly she had had to fire her nanny because she caught the nanny administering Tylenol to the 14 month old child on camera, and now she was looking for a replacement.
I wish I had asked her questions, but the context of the discussion humbled me, and kept me dipping Dorritos in Mexican salsa instead.

Was the child ill? In pain? Was it crying?
Had she confronted the nanny, asked for an explanation?
Had she given the nanny instructions on how to act in a situation where Tylenol might be required, were she to call for instructions first? Had she, the mother, been available for communication?
Had she had previous reason to suspect this nanny of malpractice, or was the nanny cam something she wouldn't do without regardless?

I'd like to think that the person you are hiring to look after your child fills you with such confidence in their ability to do this task faultlessly, that you would not ever have even a grain of need to be spying on them behind their back as they go about their work.
There is no other way to go about this, but to use your gut feeling. No resumes or merits in the world will tell you if your nanny is the right fit for you, your child and your family. Plain, old fashioned gut feeling is the only thing we have to rely on.

I have not been in a position where I have had reason to suspect malpractice. I was blessed with an amazing nanny who stayed with us for two years and who never gave me the slightest ounce of doubt in her capability of taking care of my kids.
Yes, she was young. Yes, she made mistakes.
Yes, sometimes I had to take a deep breath before explaining to her why we need to actually cook the chicken before we serve it on the plates.
But she was kind, loving, fun, energetic, nurturing, and responsible. She had a good head on her shoulder and 99,9% of the time she used very good judgement. I trusted her, and she always confided in me if she felt out of debt.

Later, after she stopped working for us, and moved on to other families (may I add that 5 mothers that had seen my nanny with Leo tried to pinch her even before she'd worked her last day), she has said that one of the reasons she was so happy working for us was that both me and my husband was approachable.
She never felt that she would bother us if she had a question, no matter how silly it was. She explained that most families assumed she was a mind reader, expected everything to be right, but always got angry if they where bothered with questions.
"Imagine what kind of a boss they are at work", I said.

Bottom line is, if we are employing someone to do a job for us, we need to manage them accordingly. We need to be available for questions and support.
They are taking care of our children - wouldn't you rather they called you one time too many than risk making one mistake no matter how small?

I can't put myself in a position where I would have to worry for the safety of my child while I am away, the thought of it makes me feel sick. So far be it for me to criticize this mothers choice on preventing something form happening.

But I can't help but feel that the nanny cam has become our own excuse for our bad management style, rather than a valid preventative tool.
If we were feeling safe in the knowledge that a nanny cam will help us act fast, before it is too late, is it because we are seriously suspecting our nanny to be a malicious, abusive, beer drinking, silver stealing crook who sleeps on the job, or because we are worried that we have thrown them in the deep end and need to catch them before they sink, only to throw them right back in the water again when we got the life buoy back?

Was the mother's reaction too strong? Should she have fired the nanny for giving her child Tylenol? Again, we don't know the circumstances, maybe she had reminded her ten times to call before doling out the painkillers?
Or maybe the camera had given her a sense of control over her home life that she didn't really need in the first place?

In this world where we are used to be everywhere, all the time, even if we can't physically take care of our kids, we still need to feel that we are with them all the time.
Maybe the nanny cam is just a good old fashioned gadget for the mother who has too much time on her hands even when she busy doing "other stuff".

Bringing up the baby

Are French mothers the new Tiger moms? Are they stricter than the British equivalents? And if so, is it working? Are French kids better behaved and educated? Are they happier??

This article from the Guardian raises some interesting observations regarding child raising, but I can't help but feeling that the core of the issue has nothing to do with nationality, but simply in differences in attitude amongst conflicting groups of parenting styles.

If children are being let to run free to discover the world and make their own choices, are they harmonious or disruptive?
If they are reared in a more strictly confined space, where some one is scheduling every step they are allowed to take, will this benefit them in their adult lives?

We can argue for the sake of arguing for as long as we like, but the bottom line is, parents will not always agree on the art of bringing up the baby. There is no point in dressing it up as a matter of nationality - we all come form different schools of life.

You go, girl!

Kate got her yellow belt in Aikido last night, after only 3 months of practice. She is the only girl in a group of 15, and it's taken most of the boys over a year to get to the same point.
I don't want to brag -
but YOU GO GIRL - KICK SOME BUTT!!!

Show them that everything they can do we can do too - and with dignity to spare.

I am so proud of her:)

A new year

I don't really know where to begin, but I hope you have had a good holiday.

Today is Kate's birthday, and she's turning 10.
Yes.
10.
I have been a mother for a decade.

But it is not about me, it is about this gorgeous, funny, smart, cool and very special creature that is my daughter. Who I am so incredibly proud of.
Happy birthday, Kate.
I love you so very much.

Argh!

How do I keep my calm with a near 10 year old girl who is impossibly sloppy and disorganized with everything that comes her way.
Jackets. Sweaters. Been through dozens. They all end up somewhere in a school yard, and never find their way back home. Or to Lost and Found for that matter.
She can't find a pencil sharpener or eraser on her desk if her life depended on it.
Practice sheets for french test? When she finally tells me they actually have a text (the day before), she forgets to bring it home.

I'm tearing my hair out!
Please, help me - what do I do???

PTC

Parent teacher conference today.
Am gearing up for a bit of an argument with Kate's teacher. He's in to collective punishments and shouts a lot at the kids in class.
Wish me luck.

Big mouth

I unwillingly raised a few eyebrows in Kate's Aikido class yesterday.
There is an Alpha-boy in the class who is always voicing his own greatness (he also happens to be in Kate's school class, so I have had ample time to study his behavior...), and also letting others know that girls are no good at anything. They can't kick a ball, they can't do team sports, they can't do maths, etc etc.
Yesterday, while doing stretches, the boys were slacking off, not taking it seriously.
- Look at Kate, Sensei said. That's what your meant to do.
(Kate is flexible, and stretches the pants of all the boys.)

- That's because she does ballet, whines Alpha-boy.

- So? I hear my self say across the room.
Everyone looks at me.
- SO?
Every one is quiet.

The other parents are uncomfortable.

I wish I kept my mouth shut.
I just can't take attitude, and laziness, at the cost of making the girls sound weaker. As if ballet is a bad excuse.
But I wish I kept my mouth shut.
I can't fight her battles.

I have a big mouth.

Juggler

Here we go again. Another long break.

I promised myself to never over-schedule my kids, to always make sure they have plenty of time at home, and to teach them that it is OK to be bored, and to use their imagination.
That has worked well. Not.
Kate is currently dancing three nights a week a 1,5 hour, riding 2 hours every Sunday and practicing Aikido Thursday nights.
Leo has swim lessons and soccer tots. Add on the odd birthday party and throw in a few play dates and you have yourselves two very fraught and exhausted parents.

What happened?
I'm not a soccer mom. I'm not a pushy stage mom, or a helicopter parent. How did I get caught up in this?

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.

Angry Mother tries to be all technical and s***

Angry Mother has gone twitter. Now there is a button in the right hand column that you can click on, and something should happen. I don't really know what, but aren't you keen to find out?
Am trying to figure out how to automatically feed my blogposts to the twitter account.
That could take all day.

ABC = F1F2F3

Will book app's kill the paperback the same way as video killed the radio star? I have no idea, but I found this article from the Guardian UK quite interesting. Personally, they would have to drag me to my death before I stopped encouraging my kids to read and enjoy books in their spare time, but I do love me a nice little Ipad for those (in)frequent times when all else has been tried and failed and you just need them to be quiet for a little while.

I certainly won't mind Leo playing interactive games associated with his fave stories, but would I pretend that his reading quota had been filled for the day? Absolutely not.
It will be interesting to see how parents will use these apps and what the research will say a few years down the line.
If I were to put money on it, the debate will sound pretty similar to the one on video and computer games.

I fight for my right to never be a Victoria's Secret.

Some days ago, a male friend posted on Facebook that he had joined a group who were trying to get a shopping mall to move the playground away from their current site, as they are situated right outside Victoria's Secret.
I admit that my initial reaction was one of bemused cynicism:
- Come on. Are we not taking our need to shelter our kids from the devils sins a little too far? This is overkill. What's a semi-naked body when we have plenty bigger issues to tackle?
His reply was straight and honest:

- I like boobies as much as the next man. But my point is not the boobies. It is about the message about what body images we are sending out to our children. We are saying that these skinny, photo shopped bodies are a standard from which we are measuring perfection these days.

He has a very good point. And I admit, again, that I have become too blasé about the visual images we surround ourselves with. Just because I am so the opposite to the type of woman who is affected about commercial stereotypes, because I have a brain that I use on a daily basis, I just assume that my children will be unaffected by this too. I forget that they are still young and impressionable and that they don't automatically become me while they grow up in this very f-cked up world of ours.
I decided there and then to be more conscious and to make sure I talk to my kids a lot more about this.

But too soon for me to do something about it, Kate asked me if I thought she was getting bigger as she was touching her belly after an evening snack of bread, cheese and a little apple juice.

It devastated and temporarily paralyzed me.

This was one of those moments you wish you were in a movie, or a family sitcom, and you would sit your child down on the sofa, stroke her back, and very eloquently tell her everything she needs to hear in three to five profound sentences, and you would hug, she would smile at you, and everything is fine again, and the subject will never be brought up again because your words were enough to forever change you the insecurities your child had carried with her until then.
Oh, I wish!

So what did I do?
I did tell her how special, and beautiful and divine she is, and how she is going through some changes that will inevitably make her feel out of sync with her body and that the body needs energy in order to grow and that there is nothing wrong with her, etc etc. I stroke her back, and I hugged her. Told her I am there for her.

It was almost like in the movies.

But this is not going away. In real life, this is only the beginning of many years of agonizing insecurities about imperfection and self loathing .
And shopping malls will keep putting their playgrounds outside Victoria's Secret.
And we will still live in a world with very impossible physical standards.
And it is not about to get any better.

PS:

Kate often says: I love you mom.
I can't complain, when it comes to my daughter, I am not starved for affection.
Tonight, when we were watching Hell's Kitchen, she told me she loved me, again. Out of the blue.
- I love you too, sweet, I smiled. What made you say that, in the middle of a Gordon Ramsey rant?
- Well, I just started thinking. Parents do a lot for their kids. They give them food, and drive them places, and play games and stuff. They do a lot.

Hell yeah.
But it's all worth it.
And I told her that too.

I will never, ever give up this blog ever again. I promise.

Hi everyone, if anyone is still out there?
I would like to say sorry for dropping the blog for so long, it was never my intention to stop writing but life took such an unexpected turn and for a long time, I had to try to come to terms with some inevitable changes and work a few things out. Nope, not divorced - but it was close for a while.

I have been craving to write for a long time now, though, so this is my solemn promise: to blog and be angry again!

So, apart from not taking my marriage for granted anymore, what else has happened since my last post?
Well, Kate is in 4th grade. She's going through some "changes" and thinks that school is "really boring". She is yet again in a very rowdy, high energy class, with a lot of strong type A males, who think that girls are crap at maths, and should refrain from all sports. Oh, trust me, this will be my next blog post.

Leo is turning 4, and is in pre-school. Not all sunshine and roses, there are still issues with his temper. And at drop off, I have suddenly turned in to the mother other parents avoid, because they don't like my son. Again, another blog post.

And one of the reasons I started to crave this blog was something I listened to on the BBC Radio's Woman's Hour a few days ago. Again, more blog posts.

It is so good to be back - if there are any readers out there - please, send me a sign!

Oh the boredom

It is easy to feel lonely when the weather is grey and foggy in the Bay Area. Everything is geared towards the outside, which implies good weather and this is an anomaly since we never really have very good weather here.
So what do you do when the temperature is hitting freezing and the cold wind is biting your cheeks? Well, playgrounds are out. So is the Discovery Museum and the beach.
And I still haven't signed Leo up for any activities. Or rather, I have, but only for the days he is with his babysitter, since smart-arse over here thought how nice it would be to spend my free days with him without the added stress of scheduled commitments. How nice it would be to just be spontaneous and hang out.
I just happened to forget about the weather. hanging out is not the same if you do it indoors. You soon grow out of your space. Restlessness tend to set in.

And the few friends I have who have kids Leo's age? Well, they were smart. They scheduled activities down to the very last pottery class. Right now they are busy ferrying their sprogs from one place to another. A spontaneous coffee has to be scheduled at least two weeks in advanced.

It's only 11.30. Four hours to go before pick up time at school. And we need to buy bread. That is an added half hour. Maybe we could go pick up deodorant and shampoo form Walgreen's there's another half hour. What am I complaining about - this day will fly by!

Back from summer break

I apologise for disappearing without a word, as always it feels like this blog never really takes off, the silence in between the rants is too overpowering.
We have been away for the summer, and have only just come back to reality.
Although a nice, welcome and much needed break I am still a bit mystified by the fact that a mother should always, always be on tap. Why do people assume that you are available 24/7, and that you can be available.
Not to moan, but not once has anyone in my close family said: I'll take the kids today. I'll plan fun, eventful yet responsible activities for them while you just kick back with a crime novel and not worry about dinner.
It's not that bad, and dear husband - I know you are reading this, eventually: don't over-interpret.
After all, you always tell me that I only have to ask. All I'm saying is: sometimes it would be if it was suggested by someone else.
Not just my husband. My mother also seem to have some difficulties with mastering my two lovely off-springs at the same time, by her self. Wonder how she managed with me and my brother when we were young? I have become very used to negotiate some me-time over the last few weeks. As in: if I have this right now, I can give you this back, a little later.
You have to be clever and diplomatic to be a mother on holiday, no doubt about it.

But we are back, and ready to start again.
Hope you've had a good summer!

Gender is for fun

As most other people in the US, we celebrated 4th of July yesterday. But since we are Europeans, our celebrations was of the more subdued sort, a simple picnic under a tree in the park, no fireworks in the evening.
I couldn't help but listening in to another group of people that walked by us at one point. It was two daddy's, two mom's, two little girls and one little boy around the ages of 3-5. The dad's decided to go get some coffee while the mom's were gonna hang out with the kids.
- Do you want to come with us? asked one dad the little boy.
He declined.
- Do you wanna be with the boys, or stay with the girls? said the dad again.
- Play, said the little boy.
- No, why don't you come with the boys? insisted the dad.
To which one of the girls said:
- I wanna come, daddy! Please.
- No, you stay here with the girls. You stay here and play.
- But I wanna come. Please, daddy.
- No, stay here with the girls. Are you sure you don't wanna come with the boys instead of staying with the girls? he then asked the boy again.
It seemed to be a hotchpotch of mixed messages, feelings and general back and forth.

I couldn't help wondering why something so simple turned in to something so complicated?
And why on earth did the dad feel he had to gender-specify the whole project??
Boys and girls, staying or going, having fun or not.
No girls allowed here, only there.
The girl was upset, the boy seemed to feel that he was somehow missing out regardless what he chose, not to mention that he probably felt he had somehow disappointed his dad.

Happy 4th of July!
Please don't gender stereotype your kids.