During a conversation with my newly employed, recently minted college graduate, she shared an office observation. “The 30-year olds seem impossibly mature and together. How will I ever get there?”
This was precisely the same thought my husband and I had the day she was born. I lay against the pillow in my hospital gown; my husband sat gingerly cuddling our newborn daughter in his arms.
Into the room ran my 3-year old niece, a cracker in each hand excited squealing, “I hold the baby!”
Our eyes darted to this capable 3-year old who could walk and talk and eat crackers. Then we gazed at our swaddled infant and thought, “how will our daughter ever get there?”
So when our younger daughter turned 21 and could walk, talk and eat crackers as well as drive a car, use a debit card and even mow the lawn, we said to one another, “well done on the parenting!” with the emphasis on done, our children were now capable, self-sufficient adults.
When I was in college I took a number of complex math courses. The classes always seemed to be late in the afternoon, and as the low sun angled in the windows, a room full of 20-year olds frantically attempted to follow the instructor as he scribbled out a proof on the blackboard. Invariably he would run out of room on the chalkboard or run out of time in class or both, and so would quickly scrawl, QED. To the lecturer this meant the rest is obvious, I have demonstrated the hard part.
And now, 30 years later, the roles were reversed. It was as if I were the lecturer, and the time in my classroom had drawn to a close as my youngest child turned 21. From there to 30? QED, or so it seemed to me.
I could see my daughter turning over in her head the concept of 21 to 30 being obvious. Like me and my fellow classmates gathering our notebooks in math class so long ago, QED only meant one thing to her, how in the hell do you get there from here?
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Passover in the Digital Age
Many years ago I hosted my first Passover Seder and placed steaming hot dishes of food on the table as we sat down and opened the Haggadah. First question, “why on this night did mom put dinner on the table and not let us eat?” The food was far from hot when we finally answered all four questions and completed our retelling of the Passover story.
Although I will never be mistaken for a quintessential Jewish mom, I have learned a lot about hosting a Seder in the intervening years. Perhaps my most important learning has been “make it relevant.” To that end, we retell the Passover story as a group with one person starting the narrative and others chiming in with additional details or the occasional correction:
“Miriam hid in the bushes and then a Princess, -"
“Actually the Pharaoh’s daughter.”
“Right, the Pharaoh’s daughter, came down to the river and saw the baby in the rushes.”
2014 marked the year that we made technology relevant to the Seder. Our household observes strict no-technology-at-the-dining-table rules. However, this year we embraced technology to bring together family across borders and share in our Seder via Google+ Hangouts. We set up a laptop at one end of the table, right beside Elijah’s cup actually, and those of us physically at the table crowded to the other end so we could all be on camera simultaneously.
The slight audio time-lag made the story retelling somewhat disjointed, but the pleasure of all sharing the Seder together more than compensated.
My daughter is now mulling over designs to transport food digitally so we can all share in the same food. However, even though we didn’t all serve ourselves from the same dishes, we certainly all shared a meal together.
In a word: Relationships
A word cloud formed from blogs on the value of overnight camp for campers and counselors conveys the essence of camp, and perhaps, of life : relationships.
Relationships with friends and campers and counselors, and yes with parents too.
Relationships with friends and campers and counselors, and yes with parents too.
Relationships with counselors who live in the moment and serve as valuable role models for children.
Relationships among campers who learn and grow to meet their potential, who arrive with trepidation and leave camp with memories and lives changed through the relationships they form each summer.
Relationships between children and parents who give the gift of summer camp knowing a child can gain more self-confidence and responsibility in a few weeks of summer fun than nearly anywhere else in life.
Look into an overnight summer camp experience for your child this year.
Look into an overnight summer camp experience for your child this year.
- 10 Reasons Why Businesses Should Hire Former Camp Counselors
- 5 Life Lessons Learned from Sleep-Away Camp
- What's Needed to Prepare Your Child for the Future? The Answer May Surprise You...
- Counselors Benefit from Camp Too!
For more blogs on camp visit: Summer Camp
Flight Behavior Book Group Discussion
I enjoy leading book groups. When I lead, I write up a discussion guide to use. Warning: spoilers within! Read after you have finished the book.
All page numbers refer to hardcover HarperCollins First Edition, 2012
I now have a collection of discussion guides all brought together in one blog: Group Reads: Flight Behavior Stop by and see what other guides might interest you!
The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake Book Group Discussion Guide
By
Aimee Bender
I enjoy leading book groups. When I lead, I write up a discussion guide to use. Feel free to ask your own questions or discuss your own observations or reactions in the comments section.
I have moved this discussion guide to my new blog, Group Reads which is a collection of discussion guides. You can find a guide for this book at The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.
Stop by and see what other guides might interest you!
I enjoy leading book groups. When I lead, I write up a discussion guide to use. Feel free to ask your own questions or discuss your own observations or reactions in the comments section.
I have moved this discussion guide to my new blog, Group Reads which is a collection of discussion guides. You can find a guide for this book at The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake.
Stop by and see what other guides might interest you!
College Visiting Better than Bearable
College visiting can be better than bearable with only a modicum of advance planning. Keeping the basics managed—hunger, timing and minimizing embarrassing moments – can turn an average college trip into one that’s a lot of fun and memorable for all the right reasons.
1. Bring Snacks! Sure, you thought once your kids were out of preschool you would no longer be packing snacks for car trips. Well, when you’re running late for the college tour, or are lost in a new city, or stuck in traffic, it’s great to be able to brighten the mood with a quick snack. Find a small cooler and pack a few items that will last if they end up in the car overnight—apples, nuts, pretzels and definitely a few water bottles.
2. Heading into a new city with unknown traffic patterns is probably not a good time to have you student driver practice driving.
3. Trust the admissions office directions over your GPS—you never know when there’s a Grand Prix in town that the admissions office will know to direct you around while your faithful GPS will blindly lead you directly into traffic.
4. Yet don’t always trust the admissions office on parking. Generally their parking lot is closest, but also priciest. Street parking can be an option, but see how long the meters last. Getting a ticket while college visiting is probably not going to improve the mood in the car.
5. Remember that 5 minutes early is on time. It takes time to get through all the stoplights, it takes time to park, it takes time to ask directions to the admissions office, it takes time to walk. Add in plenty of time and keep a book handy if you arrive early.
6. Note taking may seem a bit excessive, but after seeing even three schools, the trips and tips will start to blend. Keep a small notebook and pen visible just in case your student has the urge to reach for it during the info session.
7. While everyone suggests eating on campus and talking to students to get the vibe, sometimes it’s easier to eat on campus and eavesdrop on the nearby diners. Not only may your child find it less embarrassing, you also may hear more honest commentary.
8. Suggest that your student create a playlist in advance and then let him listen to it in lieu of bombarding him with “so what did you think of that school?”
9. Most importantly—plan time to do other things beyond visiting colleges—see how many ice cream stands you can discover and enjoy, go up the Washington Monument (well, once it’s repaired), find a corn maze to visit. Have fun!
And a couple of suggestions to pass on to your students:
1. Bring Snacks! Sure, you thought once your kids were out of preschool you would no longer be packing snacks for car trips. Well, when you’re running late for the college tour, or are lost in a new city, or stuck in traffic, it’s great to be able to brighten the mood with a quick snack. Find a small cooler and pack a few items that will last if they end up in the car overnight—apples, nuts, pretzels and definitely a few water bottles.
2. Heading into a new city with unknown traffic patterns is probably not a good time to have you student driver practice driving.
3. Trust the admissions office directions over your GPS—you never know when there’s a Grand Prix in town that the admissions office will know to direct you around while your faithful GPS will blindly lead you directly into traffic.
4. Yet don’t always trust the admissions office on parking. Generally their parking lot is closest, but also priciest. Street parking can be an option, but see how long the meters last. Getting a ticket while college visiting is probably not going to improve the mood in the car.
5. Remember that 5 minutes early is on time. It takes time to get through all the stoplights, it takes time to park, it takes time to ask directions to the admissions office, it takes time to walk. Add in plenty of time and keep a book handy if you arrive early.
6. Note taking may seem a bit excessive, but after seeing even three schools, the trips and tips will start to blend. Keep a small notebook and pen visible just in case your student has the urge to reach for it during the info session.
7. While everyone suggests eating on campus and talking to students to get the vibe, sometimes it’s easier to eat on campus and eavesdrop on the nearby diners. Not only may your child find it less embarrassing, you also may hear more honest commentary.
8. Suggest that your student create a playlist in advance and then let him listen to it in lieu of bombarding him with “so what did you think of that school?”
9. Most importantly—plan time to do other things beyond visiting colleges—see how many ice cream stands you can discover and enjoy, go up the Washington Monument (well, once it’s repaired), find a corn maze to visit. Have fun!
And a couple of suggestions to pass on to your students:
- Ask your student tour guide where else he or she applied to college whether you’re still looking to expand your colleges under consideration or you simply need external validation of your choices.
- Even if the reason you went to visit Macalester was because you had never been to Minnesota, you don’t need to put that on your application.
Pirate Guidelines for Parents of Students Adrift Among College Applications
As I stepped into the unknown (at least to me) territory of guiding a high school senior through the college application process, I felt like Elizabeth Turner as she boarded the Black Pearl—the college application process was more about guidelines than rules. I was fortunate enough to be offered two guidelines from people who had previously boarded the college convoy. I pass both along here to anyone else who faces, with perhaps some trepidation, the prospect of figuring out the college application process from a parent’s perspective.
First, as a parent, you can take on multiple roles in the college process. At one end of the spectrum a parent can sit back and let the student manage everything, which can be either completely freeing or entirely impossible. At the other end the mother so excessively edits her child’s essays that the essays beautifully reflect the views and perspective of a perimenopausal woman trying to recapture her youth. Ideally I hoped to find a role somewhere in the middle of this tightrope, or as it sometimes feels, a pirate's plank, presuming of course that I could keep my balance.
A good friend, who was a recent empty nester with 3 children successfully enrolled in college, suggested taking on the role of an administrator. As she described it, an administrator can type, mail applications, edit grammar, maintain critical calendar reminders, even chauffeur to college visits. An administrator does not write essays, suggest topics, select colleges, compare prospective college experiences or write questions for school visits. And as my friend clearly stated, an administrator has pre-determined work hours. Work hours may be negotiated, but generally should be set in advance, so if the student would like to have an essay reviewed, said essay would need to be completed before 11pm on the date the application is due. As with any good administrator/employer relationship, the job requirements should be negotiated in advance. Only time and my children will tell whether I am successful in meeting my targeted goals.
The second piece of advice came from a college admissions officer trying to win over the students in attendance. He suggested that college discussions between parents and students be limited to 5 to 7 pm on Sunday. During that time parents could ask any questions on their minds and offer their well-intended advice on the college application process. The remainder of the week, the college application process would be off limits for family conversations.
As with the first suggestion, only time and my children will tell how well I adhere to this rule. Yes, like the Pirates’ Code these are more guidelines than actual rules. Welcome aboard the College Convoy, Miss Turner.
First, as a parent, you can take on multiple roles in the college process. At one end of the spectrum a parent can sit back and let the student manage everything, which can be either completely freeing or entirely impossible. At the other end the mother so excessively edits her child’s essays that the essays beautifully reflect the views and perspective of a perimenopausal woman trying to recapture her youth. Ideally I hoped to find a role somewhere in the middle of this tightrope, or as it sometimes feels, a pirate's plank, presuming of course that I could keep my balance.
A good friend, who was a recent empty nester with 3 children successfully enrolled in college, suggested taking on the role of an administrator. As she described it, an administrator can type, mail applications, edit grammar, maintain critical calendar reminders, even chauffeur to college visits. An administrator does not write essays, suggest topics, select colleges, compare prospective college experiences or write questions for school visits. And as my friend clearly stated, an administrator has pre-determined work hours. Work hours may be negotiated, but generally should be set in advance, so if the student would like to have an essay reviewed, said essay would need to be completed before 11pm on the date the application is due. As with any good administrator/employer relationship, the job requirements should be negotiated in advance. Only time and my children will tell whether I am successful in meeting my targeted goals.
The second piece of advice came from a college admissions officer trying to win over the students in attendance. He suggested that college discussions between parents and students be limited to 5 to 7 pm on Sunday. During that time parents could ask any questions on their minds and offer their well-intended advice on the college application process. The remainder of the week, the college application process would be off limits for family conversations.
As with the first suggestion, only time and my children will tell how well I adhere to this rule. Yes, like the Pirates’ Code these are more guidelines than actual rules. Welcome aboard the College Convoy, Miss Turner.
An Amazing Race- Grocery Style
“You ladies have been randomly chosen…” Was that man with the balloons talking to me? Was I in a grocery store or at Disney World?
My first visit to the new Stop and Shop was rather disconcerting with the amount of attention lavished upon all of the shoppers as we wandered the brightly shining aisles attempting to find a favorite brand of cocoa or dried apricots. Even before I entered the store, I was greeted not by one or even two friendly employees, but by a veritable cheering line—not much different than the finale of the reality show The Amazing Race without having raced around the world first. And like a race around the world, we had our own Passport—this one issued by Stop and Shop, not the United States government. In lieu of visiting exotic foreign destinations, we stopped by tables laden with carrots and ranch dressing or shrimp with cocktail sauce or fresh rotisserie chicken. At each station our passport was stamped in pursuit of the ultimate prize—a reusable grocery bag. We weren’t going to win a million dollars in this race, but then again we had only come to purchase a few groceries and see the new store.
I had brought in plastic bags to recycle and when I didn’t see a recycle bin by the entrance, I asked one of the freshly scrubbed employees where the plastic bags could be recycled. Before I even finished my question, she had efficiently extracted the bags from my grip and cheerily offered to deposit them for me. Guess I would have to wait for my next visit to find where the bin was hidden.
In every aisle a shining, smiling employee was posted to assist in all manner of needs—finding an item was only the beginning of the magic these grinning employees offered. It was as if I were in a distant country that was working hard to impress the recently arrived tourists. An employee nearly snatched the shopping list from a customer as she gazed across the endless rows of cereal boxes. I honestly thought he was going to fill up her shopping cart for her. As another bent down next to me, I checked to see if my shoe was untied. Turned out she was restocking the bottom shelf.
So it was with a sense of relief of having successfully navigated the gauntlet of supportive employees that I found myself at the checkout line, my purchases being pleasantly scanned by a smiling cashier. Then came the balloon man. Holding one yellow and one purple balloon, he approached us and happily informed us that we had been randomly selected as winners. We would receive $10 for every Stop and Shop brand item purchased. Seeing as I had only run into the store to pick up a handful of groceries, I knew I was not a million dollar winner. Fortunately, though two Stop and Shop brand items had made their way from my short list to the conveyor belt. Balloons aloft, the magical moment guide led us out to the front of the store to present us with Stop and Shop gift cards and gave us the two balloons. It wasn’t a million dollar check, and our balloon man hardly resembled Phil from The Amazing Race, but yet I still felt a sense of victory at having completed my own personal grocery store competition.
My first visit to the new Stop and Shop was rather disconcerting with the amount of attention lavished upon all of the shoppers as we wandered the brightly shining aisles attempting to find a favorite brand of cocoa or dried apricots. Even before I entered the store, I was greeted not by one or even two friendly employees, but by a veritable cheering line—not much different than the finale of the reality show The Amazing Race without having raced around the world first. And like a race around the world, we had our own Passport—this one issued by Stop and Shop, not the United States government. In lieu of visiting exotic foreign destinations, we stopped by tables laden with carrots and ranch dressing or shrimp with cocktail sauce or fresh rotisserie chicken. At each station our passport was stamped in pursuit of the ultimate prize—a reusable grocery bag. We weren’t going to win a million dollars in this race, but then again we had only come to purchase a few groceries and see the new store.
I had brought in plastic bags to recycle and when I didn’t see a recycle bin by the entrance, I asked one of the freshly scrubbed employees where the plastic bags could be recycled. Before I even finished my question, she had efficiently extracted the bags from my grip and cheerily offered to deposit them for me. Guess I would have to wait for my next visit to find where the bin was hidden.
In every aisle a shining, smiling employee was posted to assist in all manner of needs—finding an item was only the beginning of the magic these grinning employees offered. It was as if I were in a distant country that was working hard to impress the recently arrived tourists. An employee nearly snatched the shopping list from a customer as she gazed across the endless rows of cereal boxes. I honestly thought he was going to fill up her shopping cart for her. As another bent down next to me, I checked to see if my shoe was untied. Turned out she was restocking the bottom shelf.
So it was with a sense of relief of having successfully navigated the gauntlet of supportive employees that I found myself at the checkout line, my purchases being pleasantly scanned by a smiling cashier. Then came the balloon man. Holding one yellow and one purple balloon, he approached us and happily informed us that we had been randomly selected as winners. We would receive $10 for every Stop and Shop brand item purchased. Seeing as I had only run into the store to pick up a handful of groceries, I knew I was not a million dollar winner. Fortunately, though two Stop and Shop brand items had made their way from my short list to the conveyor belt. Balloons aloft, the magical moment guide led us out to the front of the store to present us with Stop and Shop gift cards and gave us the two balloons. It wasn’t a million dollar check, and our balloon man hardly resembled Phil from The Amazing Race, but yet I still felt a sense of victory at having completed my own personal grocery store competition.
The Third Night: It's the Thought that Counts
The excuses started with the morning alarm clock.
“I just want to remind you that I work at home on Fridays, so I won’t have many interactions for sharing something nice,” my husband announced as he stepped out of bed.
“You’ll see your family, “I responded, “we count too".
As it turned out, I was the one who ended up grasping for moments of kindness given. I had plenty of kindnesses received, rushing home late from work, getting a friendly smile and a helpful suggestion from a shop owner, being able to call my husband at the last minute to pick up my daughter, a truck driver letting me cut across to make my exit. But I apparently was in a receiving mode, not a giving mode as I grasped for 3, just 3, kindnesses given— how hard could this be? I looked for drivers who weren’t getting a break in traffic to pull out, shoppers who needed a door opened, I even stopped to pick up fresh scones for my family - all sold out by late in the day!
On that last try, my daughter told me, "It's the thought that counts mom, so that counts as a kindness."
When we stood around the menorah and listened to each others' kindnesses, again seeing the glimpses of gloves shared on a cold day, or thoughtful encouragement to a classmate, I realized we all have moments or days of receiving and moments of giving. It’s not that one is harder to see or acknowledge than the other, at least for me. It is that life is bumpy. Often there are caring words I can share, or a hand I can offer, but sometimes I am the thankful recipient of an extra smile or a driver’s courtesy or a daughter’s hug. The kindnesses of others keep my glass full.
“I just want to remind you that I work at home on Fridays, so I won’t have many interactions for sharing something nice,” my husband announced as he stepped out of bed.
“You’ll see your family, “I responded, “we count too".
As it turned out, I was the one who ended up grasping for moments of kindness given. I had plenty of kindnesses received, rushing home late from work, getting a friendly smile and a helpful suggestion from a shop owner, being able to call my husband at the last minute to pick up my daughter, a truck driver letting me cut across to make my exit. But I apparently was in a receiving mode, not a giving mode as I grasped for 3, just 3, kindnesses given— how hard could this be? I looked for drivers who weren’t getting a break in traffic to pull out, shoppers who needed a door opened, I even stopped to pick up fresh scones for my family - all sold out by late in the day!
On that last try, my daughter told me, "It's the thought that counts mom, so that counts as a kindness."
When we stood around the menorah and listened to each others' kindnesses, again seeing the glimpses of gloves shared on a cold day, or thoughtful encouragement to a classmate, I realized we all have moments or days of receiving and moments of giving. It’s not that one is harder to see or acknowledge than the other, at least for me. It is that life is bumpy. Often there are caring words I can share, or a hand I can offer, but sometimes I am the thankful recipient of an extra smile or a driver’s courtesy or a daughter’s hug. The kindnesses of others keep my glass full.
First Night Kindnesses
The first night we each told one kindness given and one kindness received. The only momentary pause was from my husband who said, “Two? I thought we only needed one on the first day.”
To which my younger daughter, always the mathematician, replied, “One kindness received for each Shamash candle lit and one kindness given for each candle the Shamash lights.”
“There’s always only one Shamash,” my husband responded.
“Precisely. Each night we only need to tell one kindness received, but the number of kindness we share with others will increment by one each day.”
“Okay, got it.”
The first day one of us received a book, one a kind word, one a kindness from a teacher, one a kindness from classmates holding opposing views. The first day one of us found two chairs to include two more in the circle, one held her tongue, one spent an extra 30 minutes with a student who just wanted to talk, and one I can’t remember because I was working so hard on not forgetting mine. Today I will work harder on my listening skills! Already we are talking about ‘saving’ a kindness for a day when we need 5 or 6 or 7 or 8. Hmm, that’s missing the point… seems I need to tune the goal.
To which my younger daughter, always the mathematician, replied, “One kindness received for each Shamash candle lit and one kindness given for each candle the Shamash lights.”
“There’s always only one Shamash,” my husband responded.
“Precisely. Each night we only need to tell one kindness received, but the number of kindness we share with others will increment by one each day.”
“Okay, got it.”
The first day one of us received a book, one a kind word, one a kindness from a teacher, one a kindness from classmates holding opposing views. The first day one of us found two chairs to include two more in the circle, one held her tongue, one spent an extra 30 minutes with a student who just wanted to talk, and one I can’t remember because I was working so hard on not forgetting mine. Today I will work harder on my listening skills! Already we are talking about ‘saving’ a kindness for a day when we need 5 or 6 or 7 or 8. Hmm, that’s missing the point… seems I need to tune the goal.
Kindnesses Shared and Received
We love our ceramic menorah that we unwrap each December and fill with colorful candles each evening during Hanukkah. As the Shamash candle is lit, we begin singing the blessing in our own multi-tuned rendition. My husband wasn’t schooled in religious tunes, or if he was didn’t retain them. And my religious tunes are limited to Herald Angels and Little Towns. Consequently, our prayer sounds much like a smaller rendition of Hogwarts school song.
Each of the 8 nights we add an additional candle, sing our prayer and enjoy the menorah for a moment or through dinner or while homework is being done. We love to watch the candle lights flickering and speculate where all that wax ends up. But we rarely focus long on the Maccabees or the blessings we remember in our own lives.
This year I thought we could think about what brings light into our lives and how we reflect that light. Each day of Hanukkah, we will each be observant for kindnesses we share and kindnesses we receive. Then when we light the candles we will each share a kindness from that day for each candle lit—one kindness each on the first night, two the second night and so forth. I imagine that this will be fairly straightforward on day one. However, I presume that by day 4 or 5 we will have to work to not just remember what we have done that day (for some of us a harder task these days than for others), but we will need actively be observant for moments when we can offer a kindness— from a word, to a hand, to a hug. I am sure it will take concentration to look for opportunities. Perhaps we will hold open a door or let the shopper with just one item to purchase step in line in front of us, or even refrain from a disparaging remark that was clamoring to be spoken. Eight is such a good number for creating a habit of being observant to where we can give a kindness and be mindful of saying thank you when we receive a kindness.
Stay tuned and I’ll let you know how well this works or doesn’t. Let me know what traditions you enjoy in December to show thanks for what you have received or be cognizant of what you share.
Each of the 8 nights we add an additional candle, sing our prayer and enjoy the menorah for a moment or through dinner or while homework is being done. We love to watch the candle lights flickering and speculate where all that wax ends up. But we rarely focus long on the Maccabees or the blessings we remember in our own lives.
This year I thought we could think about what brings light into our lives and how we reflect that light. Each day of Hanukkah, we will each be observant for kindnesses we share and kindnesses we receive. Then when we light the candles we will each share a kindness from that day for each candle lit—one kindness each on the first night, two the second night and so forth. I imagine that this will be fairly straightforward on day one. However, I presume that by day 4 or 5 we will have to work to not just remember what we have done that day (for some of us a harder task these days than for others), but we will need actively be observant for moments when we can offer a kindness— from a word, to a hand, to a hug. I am sure it will take concentration to look for opportunities. Perhaps we will hold open a door or let the shopper with just one item to purchase step in line in front of us, or even refrain from a disparaging remark that was clamoring to be spoken. Eight is such a good number for creating a habit of being observant to where we can give a kindness and be mindful of saying thank you when we receive a kindness.
Stay tuned and I’ll let you know how well this works or doesn’t. Let me know what traditions you enjoy in December to show thanks for what you have received or be cognizant of what you share.
Quick Tips for Writing a Camper
The rest bell rings and campers race to the mailboxes to see what awaits. Samantha Saylor arrives first and grabs the stack of envelopes from the S box, quickly reading through the addressee names.
“Santos, Smith, Santos, Strickland, Surrey, Santos, Smith, Shen, finally Saylor!, Santos, Santos, how many friends and family does Santos have?!, Shen, Sargent, another one for Saylor, Santos, Steinberg, Santos”
Samantha hands the stack to the anxiously awaiting Strickland and heads off with her two letters. The high point of mail time has passed—sorting through the envelopes and finding the envelopes with her name on them. Even opening and reading the mail can’t eclipse the excitement of reading through the addressee names.
So take this as your first tip in writing your camper—mail, any mail, is better than no mail. And the contents of the letter or postcard are far less important than the fact that correspondence has been received. Still, writing about your commute to work, or grocery shopping will pale in comparison to a note including a funny story about trying to pick blueberries in the rain or fixing the leaky faucet and getting soaked in the process.
Here are some quick tips for writing your camper this summer:
- Write short, frequent letters rather than long occasional notes
- Include interesting flat items such as a newspaper comic or a photo
- Sprinkle in a few riddles
- Take some time to doodle
- Include a short, funny story. Nothing happened on your commute to work or in your office? Find a few short jokes to include (there are plenty to be found on-line) or relate a story from your childhood.
- Comment on your camper’s most recent letter—great job on learning how to serve in tennis or how cool that her cabin mate is from Montana.
- Include a game like hang man, tic tac toe, or 20 questions on a second sheet of paper that the two of you can send back and forth over the summer to play.
- Remember to write so your camper can read—many of the under 12 set cannot read cursive and that goes for many teens as well these days. 4 paragraphs of loopy handwriting will quickly be scanned for the signature at the end.
P.S. post scripts and post post scripts are always a big hit!
Homeschooling on the Road for Everyone
Well two kids later and a decade of enjoying mushroom-free pizza and there we were driving on the Mass Pike in a 29 foot RV, starting out on a 7 week journey around the country.2 out of 3, not bad.
In hindsight, our 2 month RV exploration of the U.S. was one of the best experiences we have ever enjoyed as a family—and one we wholeheartedly recommend to anyone seeking time with your family learning about the expansive country we inhabit.
So how did we come to find ourselves debating a drive-through campsite versus a back-in campsite at RV campgrounds around the country? We had often mused about traveling around the country as a family and after talking to friends who had taken similar trips, we broke our vow of no RV trips and started researching the choice between a Class C and a Class A while picking up lingo such as 5th wheel and 30 amp hookup. Simultaneously we considered the merits of withdrawing our children from elementary and middle school for 2 months and home schooling them on the road, or opting for a summer trip. The summer meant more national parks would be accessible and there would be more amenities at campgrounds. Spring or summer, what better way for all four of us to learn about our country, our culture, our natural resources than first hand. In the end we decided to go in the spring to give us a chance to home school for a short time span as well as be able to spend more time in the desert (although less time in the mountains).
Our next step was to outline a basic route. I bought a large map of the United States, tacked it up on a bulletin board and the whole family had fun adding push pins to destinations of interest—everything from National Parks to friends’ homes, from a cool space museum to an ancestor’s home. I also wanted to incorporate destinations that integrated well with the curriculum I had created including the Civil War, the geology of caves, and regions of the country. Our daughters connected the push pins with a string, mimicking a possible driving route around the country. As the number of push pins escalated beyond 100 and the string started resembling a high frequency sound wave more than a smooth oval, we realized we had selected sufficient potential sites to visit and must narrow them down. Eliminating places like
By the time March 3, our date to pick up the RV, rolled around, we had a rudimentary route outline, a full home-schooling plan, bags full of AAA maps, and a web site to blog our adventures. At the RV rental agency Wendy, our rental specialist, gave us the full tour of our new home for the next 2 months making sure to emphasis that cruise control is not the equivalent of auto pilot. She showed us the RV systems which my husband noted carefully, while I, on the other hand, entered her 800 number into my cell phone and made a mental note that we wanted to stay at a campground with staff for our first camping experience. We realized we needed to factor in additional time to ‘camp’: time to change the oil, buy septic deodorizers, make campsite reservations and of course, time to de-winterize the RV (after all we were leaving
Now it seemed to me it was time for the driving lesson. What? No lesson?! We just hop in and go? You’re kidding, right? Wrong, that’s it; we were set (yeah right). My husband would drive the RV home while I would follow in our car. He got in the cab and was there awhile, I presumed adjusting the seat and mirrors, double checking driving controls etc. Then he got out of cab and went into rental office. When he returned with the serviceman. I stepped out of the car with a quizzical look. “Just learning how to operate the radio,” he called to me. “The radio! I hardly think you should be listening to the radio for your first RV driving experience!” Don’t worry, no problem, … and we were off!
Cell Phone Etiquette for Kids
We can all benefit from better cell phone etiquette. So parents, it’s up to us to teach our children cell phone etiquette from the first time a child uses a cell phone.
When your child buys or receives his or her first cell phone, talk with your child about cell phone responsibility. Specifically, cell phone responsibility falls into three areas:
Think of it as an easy version of the S-E-X talk-- it's the S-E-C talk for cellphones. Set these cell phone habits – safety, etiquette and care—from day one and we’ll all be happier and less annoyed by inconsiderate, irresponsible cell phone users.
When your child buys or receives his or her first cell phone, talk with your child about cell phone responsibility. Specifically, cell phone responsibility falls into three areas:
- Cell Phone Safety: NO phone/digital use while driving. Make it clear with your child that cell phones are not to be used while driving—no talking, texting, emailing or any other digital distraction while driving is acceptable. Teach this precept when your child first starts using a phone and again when your child starts driving (presuming the phone precedes the driver’s license).
- Cell Phone Etiquette: Cell-phone communication does not pre-empt in-person communication. Specifically, no phone use at a dining table, no phone use when interacting with a store clerk, carrying on a conversation with a friend or listening to a teacher.
- Cell Phone Care: The cell phone is the responsibility of the owner—if it breaks or is lost it’s on you. In other words, if your child lends his or her phone to a friend and the phone is broken, dropped or used inappropriately, your child takes responsibility. Think before lending your phone
Think of it as an easy version of the S-E-X talk-- it's the S-E-C talk for cellphones. Set these cell phone habits – safety, etiquette and care—from day one and we’ll all be happier and less annoyed by inconsiderate, irresponsible cell phone users.
-free zone
My life has become a series of –free zones. My driver’s seat is a cell-free zone. The dinner table is a telephone-free zone (cell or land). I attempt to keep a computer-free zone in my family room and kitchen immediately after school to ensure I can focus on my children as they return home. Each of these zones is intended to reduce my multi-tasking.
I recently read, not to my surprise, that multi-tasking is an oxymoron. We cannot focus on two disparate tasks simultaneously. A condition that is abundantly clear as I attempt to write amid the chatter in the orthopedists’ waiting room. There’s the toddler dancing around the mom and continually chattering until the mom says, “behave or I’ll call daddy and then you’ll be in trouble.” (I didn’t think parent’s used this threat anymore). Then a quiet pause for 30 seconds or so followed by, “okay, call daddy.” Several other people waiting chuckle along with me. See, even in writing I have been completely unfocused by trying to blog while listening to idle chatter.
Sure, there are plenty of –free zone established for the comfort and safety of the public—smoke-free zones, cell phone-free zones, even backpack-free zones to improve security or minimize shoplifting. But my –free zones are more personal—an attempt to reduce the clutter in my mind and allow me to live in the present. Just this morning I found myself creating a daily to do list while I was in the shower, then I paused and thought to myself, the shower should be a list-free zone. Perhaps I have created a whole new compulsion— -free zones. Maybe I’ll create a –free zone-free zone…
I recently read, not to my surprise, that multi-tasking is an oxymoron. We cannot focus on two disparate tasks simultaneously. A condition that is abundantly clear as I attempt to write amid the chatter in the orthopedists’ waiting room. There’s the toddler dancing around the mom and continually chattering until the mom says, “behave or I’ll call daddy and then you’ll be in trouble.” (I didn’t think parent’s used this threat anymore). Then a quiet pause for 30 seconds or so followed by, “okay, call daddy.” Several other people waiting chuckle along with me. See, even in writing I have been completely unfocused by trying to blog while listening to idle chatter.
Sure, there are plenty of –free zone established for the comfort and safety of the public—smoke-free zones, cell phone-free zones, even backpack-free zones to improve security or minimize shoplifting. But my –free zones are more personal—an attempt to reduce the clutter in my mind and allow me to live in the present. Just this morning I found myself creating a daily to do list while I was in the shower, then I paused and thought to myself, the shower should be a list-free zone. Perhaps I have created a whole new compulsion— -free zones. Maybe I’ll create a –free zone-free zone…
It's The Feeling Not the Food
While the Israelites may have fled with unleavened bread to hasten their departure, finding Matzos these days requires significant preplanning. I would have thought that by now I’d know how much Matzo our household would consume during Passover and be prepared by buying it all in advance. But no, I remain a just-in-time shopper, and consequently we are down to our last morsel of Matzo with Passover not even half over. Scouring the shelves of two different supermarket chains brought no signs of unleavened bread beyond the bagger at the check out commenting that ‘the stock was looking pretty low yesterday so we’re probably all out by now.”
Oh well, if our menu doesn’t provide sufficient reminders of the Exodus, then perhaps I can recreate the feeling of the Exodus with my last minute preparations. While my mother-in-law is the consummate prepared hostess, my food planning is consistently last minute. So when I still hadn’t made the brisket the morning of Passover, even though my mother-in-law's recipe clearly recommends making it the night before in order to simplify dinner preparations, my walking partner suggested instead that I could recreate the mood of the Israelites grabbing what provisions they could as they headed out in haste. I mean really, were any of them writing up their shopping lists days in advance in order to allow their meat to rest overnight for optimum taste? This sounded like just the plan I needed to make my Passover dinner work.
You see, I have only hosted a handful of Passover dinners, and just as the first three Christmas trees my husband set up in the early years of our marriage crashed to the floor in the middle of the night, my Passover meals have been somewhat less than traditional. For instance, the first Passover I hosted, I drew upon the traditional Thanksgiving dinners I had grown up with, for in essence, Passover is both a remembrance and a giving of thanks. So I dutifully made every recipe listed in my Passover book, set the seder plate, and then, before calling everyone to the table, set the table with the steaming how dishes of brisket and kugel and beans—thankfully I at least knew enough to not make biscuits. Not only did the food all grow cold while we read through the Haggadah, but we could hardly hear one another over the growling of our stomachs as the aromas curled around our empty plates and our eyes drank in the feast set before us.
Several years later as I was shopping for Matzos, I found the end cap at the grocery stocked full with Manischewitz Matzos. Upon closer review, I noticed that every box had a large orange ‘unsalted’ banner plastered across the front. Was this what I was supposed to buy? Would everyone notice and wonder why I hadn’t tailed a Jewish shopper around the store to find the regular Matzos for those in the know? Confused, but not heading home without Matzos, I put a box in my cart. My husband found my confusion amusing, “They never have salt,” he told me, “must just be a new marketing tactic for health conscious consumers.”
So next year I’ll know not to put the serving dishes on the table when we sit down, that all matzos are unsalted and that I need to purchase all the matzos I’ll need well before Passover. I wonder what new lesson will come my way.
Oh well, if our menu doesn’t provide sufficient reminders of the Exodus, then perhaps I can recreate the feeling of the Exodus with my last minute preparations. While my mother-in-law is the consummate prepared hostess, my food planning is consistently last minute. So when I still hadn’t made the brisket the morning of Passover, even though my mother-in-law's recipe clearly recommends making it the night before in order to simplify dinner preparations, my walking partner suggested instead that I could recreate the mood of the Israelites grabbing what provisions they could as they headed out in haste. I mean really, were any of them writing up their shopping lists days in advance in order to allow their meat to rest overnight for optimum taste? This sounded like just the plan I needed to make my Passover dinner work.
You see, I have only hosted a handful of Passover dinners, and just as the first three Christmas trees my husband set up in the early years of our marriage crashed to the floor in the middle of the night, my Passover meals have been somewhat less than traditional. For instance, the first Passover I hosted, I drew upon the traditional Thanksgiving dinners I had grown up with, for in essence, Passover is both a remembrance and a giving of thanks. So I dutifully made every recipe listed in my Passover book, set the seder plate, and then, before calling everyone to the table, set the table with the steaming how dishes of brisket and kugel and beans—thankfully I at least knew enough to not make biscuits. Not only did the food all grow cold while we read through the Haggadah, but we could hardly hear one another over the growling of our stomachs as the aromas curled around our empty plates and our eyes drank in the feast set before us.
Several years later as I was shopping for Matzos, I found the end cap at the grocery stocked full with Manischewitz Matzos. Upon closer review, I noticed that every box had a large orange ‘unsalted’ banner plastered across the front. Was this what I was supposed to buy? Would everyone notice and wonder why I hadn’t tailed a Jewish shopper around the store to find the regular Matzos for those in the know? Confused, but not heading home without Matzos, I put a box in my cart. My husband found my confusion amusing, “They never have salt,” he told me, “must just be a new marketing tactic for health conscious consumers.”
So next year I’ll know not to put the serving dishes on the table when we sit down, that all matzos are unsalted and that I need to purchase all the matzos I’ll need well before Passover. I wonder what new lesson will come my way.
Opening Windows
When the minister asked the children gathered in front of him what Jewish holiday fell in the spring near Easter, one small boy piped up, “Hanukkah.” I laughed, thankfully not too loudly, as no one else in the congregation found amusement in his response. Whether that was because they didn’t realize that Hanukkah falls closer to Christmas or whether they thought it might be disrespectful of another religion to laugh I don’t know.
Being half of an interfaith couple, I found the response quite comical. Partially it was absurd because it showcased our society’s efforts at attempting to balance holidays with the egomaniacal Christian holiday, Christmas. Every child in our elementary school knows about Hanukkah, okay, perhaps not about the Maccabees and the oil, but they know it’s a Jewish holiday they need to mention every time Christmas is presented in their politically correct world. So the mere fact that Hanukkah would roll off of a young child’s lips as the only known Jewish holiday is a reflection of our absurd approach to managing Christmas as the top predator of solstice celebrations.
Also, the minister was attempting to be broadly ecumenical—embracing the Jewish religion by explaining important overlaps between Christianity and Judaism while talking about how Jesus was celebrating the Passover meal with his disciples before Good Friday. I applaud his efforts both to provide historical context and to open a window of respect for these children. Seeing the gears turning in these children’s minds was what got me laughing. And sure enough, in my Church School class, my students gave voice to their confusion.
When I asked why we celebrate communion, the first response was, “to remember Passover.” Well the minister had certainly gotten that window of respect wide open.
Being half of an interfaith couple, I found the response quite comical. Partially it was absurd because it showcased our society’s efforts at attempting to balance holidays with the egomaniacal Christian holiday, Christmas. Every child in our elementary school knows about Hanukkah, okay, perhaps not about the Maccabees and the oil, but they know it’s a Jewish holiday they need to mention every time Christmas is presented in their politically correct world. So the mere fact that Hanukkah would roll off of a young child’s lips as the only known Jewish holiday is a reflection of our absurd approach to managing Christmas as the top predator of solstice celebrations.
Also, the minister was attempting to be broadly ecumenical—embracing the Jewish religion by explaining important overlaps between Christianity and Judaism while talking about how Jesus was celebrating the Passover meal with his disciples before Good Friday. I applaud his efforts both to provide historical context and to open a window of respect for these children. Seeing the gears turning in these children’s minds was what got me laughing. And sure enough, in my Church School class, my students gave voice to their confusion.
When I asked why we celebrate communion, the first response was, “to remember Passover.” Well the minister had certainly gotten that window of respect wide open.
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