Tag: Parenting

  • School Recitals

    My daughter had her Spring School Recital this morning. I won’t be reviewing the performances, so to speak (I will leave that to more professional writers like Frank Rich and David Sedaris,) but I would like to talk about the kids who clearly don’t want to be there.

    When I was in grade school, I was the kid that wanted to be front and center. I tried to sing the loudest, and get the most attention. I was a drama nerd from very early on. Hence why I persuaded a professional performance and theatrical career. All be it from behind a puppet, but still. Being up in front of people is a place where I am comfortable, and watching the kids in my daughter’s class, I could see that she and a few others also enjoyed having an audience.

    Yet, I do know and understand that for most people, have a group of people eagerly stare at you is not a fun way to spend any length of time. I took a moment to watch those kids today. The kids that were told they had to be up there, and sing along. I am happy to say there weren’t any trouble makers – no one went out of their way to sabotage the proceedings. These were the kids that were looking up at the ceiling, and mouthing the words. Doing anything to just get through the three minutes of singing.

    And when the song was over, and the half hearted bow was given, then the spark of joy and excitement came across their faces as they could NOW start leaving the stage to return back to their classrooms. It was like a magic switch was thrown, and they popped back to being kids.

    My kid was awesome, by the way.

  • What I Taught My Kid

    What I Taught My Kid

    My daughter learned how to do this. I felt it was important that she understood the brilliance of “The Ministry of Silly Walks” sketch.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Not Bad, Bad Words, and Words

    (Corinthian Leather wasn’t a real thing…)

    I stand corrected, and Tottenham Hotspur proved me wrong yesterday. And as promised, I’m writing about the team again. They went down two goals to Man United by halftime, and it looked like it was over. All that was left was forty-five minutes of agony. But the second half can also be a different game, match and attitude. Spurs came out and played like they wanted it. Both teams had plenty of opportunities to put the game away, but what we got was a 2-2 draw. I’ll take it. This has made the race for fourth place more interesting, and shows that there is still a good team in that Spurs squad. Ultimately, I believe they will fall short of this goal, but my hope lives on the dream that there is a manager somewhere in the world watching this team knowing what they would do to make this team win.

    My daughter, who is eight, knows most of the curse words in the English language. We do live in New York City, and the populace here is legendary for their use of swears in odd but expressive combinations. So, it’s difficult to shield her from these words. And she also goes to school which is an incubator of curse usage. But my daughter does her best to refrain from using theses words at home, though her parents fail often at trying to do the same thing. What my kid does at home to swear but not swear is use similar sound words as replacements. While playing games on the family Switch. We are peppered with her use of “frick” and “dang” and “shoot.” Sometimes she will glance at me to see if I am reacting to her use of these words, like she’s testing the waters. For I know that she wants to dive deep into the pool of four letter bad words, but doesn’t want to get grounded.

    I should be reading more. Just saying…

  • ODDS and ENDS: Old Debates, It’s Okay to Not Have Kids, and Dog Shit

    (Fries are done…)

    I have been blessed, or cursed, depending on how you look at it, with the ability to stay up very late at night, and still wake up early. Though I may need a nap in the middle of the day, it’s given me one true positive advantage; I get to watch lots of useless things. Lately, I have started watching old episodes of Siskle & Ebert. The original purpose of watching was to remind myself of good movies that I had forgotten about. But as I watched these shows, I noticed something about how Gene and Roger argued. My memory was that there were passionate about their opinions and were willing to really get in there and fight for what they believed, even to the point of personally insulting the other. Yet, when I rewatched, I was struck by how they were very respectful in their arguing. And often, they looked amused when they argued. It wasn’t at all the cat and dog fights that I remembered. In one sense, I could just chalk this up to a faulty memory and a little Mandela effect. Or, maybe, televised arguing has become more brutal and bare knuckled over the past thirty years. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but maybe people were nicer and more respectful in the past.

    Yesterday, I read about Seth Rogen and his thoughts on being married and not having kids. (Good for BuzzFeed, still staying relevant. That’s where I read it.) He made is case of what is right for him and his wife, and he did a good job of articulating his thoughts on the issue. I got a lot of married friends that don’t have kids, and I have a lot of unmarried friends that have kids. And I know some people who have kids and wish they didn’t. Look, I’m married and have a kid and I love it. I also love having one kid, and want it to stay that way. That’s what’s right for the wife and I, and we’re very happy. And no one questions our decision. Our decision gets respected, and it ceases to be an issue. I just think that courtesy should be extended to everyone, regardless of what their reason is for having or not having kids.

    But if you’re not willing to pick up your dog’s shit, then you shouldn’t have a dog. Seriously, turds are part of the deal. So, stop being a tourist and take some responsibility.

  • The Kid has Learned Well

    Last week, I mentioned that the kid was off from school for her “Mid-Winter Break.” I do not know of a single parent in the City that finds this “break” enjoyable. It is a week of scrambling to find things for the kid to do, so she doesn’t sit in front of a screen the whole time. I think I did an okay job last week. She surely didn’t have less screen time, but she didn’t have more.

    I mean, I’m not an idiot here. I do understand that I am receiving a wonderful gift, which is getting to spend time with my kid, at an age where she still likes and respects me. (The clock is ticking until that goes away…) She is forming her own opinions on music, and movies, and books she wants to read. She is just now taking the first steps in trying to figure out the world around her, and where she fits in. Being a witness to that is a great fringe benefit of being a parent.

    The kid did pepper me with lots of questions last week about growing up in Texas during the 90’s, in the suburbs, where it was warm or hot all the time. Describing growing up outside of Dallas is a fascinating and odd tale that my daughter, with her urban New York City upbringing, has a hard time wrapping her head around. Of all the things I have told her, she finds it amazing that the D/FW area will totally shut down at the first sight of snow; Not a blizzard, or sub-freezing temperatures, but just the tiniest of snowflakes falling would wreck North Texas.

    I think my story telling had an effect on her, as this morning, when getting ready for school, she told me she wanted to dress like a “90’s kid.” I was puzzled, so I asked her what a “90’s kid” looks like? I was told “90’s kids” wear; light blue jeans, All-Star shoes, baggy long sleeve tee-shirts, and listen to cd’s.

    She wasn’t wrong.

    And I also find it rather amazing that my daughter so succinctly summed up a very formative decade of my life. The only way she could have been more on the money is if she wanted a pack of clove cigarettes and a beat-up paperback copy of Naked Lunch to read.