Winding Down, For Now

Used to be that blogging was a regular part of my routine. I was writing and reading every day and blogging was a part of all that. Now, after being in school for a year and heading into student teaching for the the semester, I just don't write so much, and blogging feels a little more labored and a little less purposeful.

Truth be told, I miss writing every day and blogging regularly, but I don't foresee how, in the very near future, I'll be able to return at least to blogging in a meaningful and consistent way. And so, while I've loved staying connected to people through this venue, but it's time to step away from it, at least for a while. Notice I can't say I'll stop forever, but I don't know when I'll start again. For now, I'll sign off and wish everyone a wonderful new year.

Until soon.....ish.

Mitt Romney Lies Some More

Now he's lying about his job creation and Obama's. He claims to have created 100,000 jobs while at Bain, and that the economy under Obama has lost 2 million. Greg Sargent writes in the Washington Post:

"Meanwhile, Romney’s claim that two million jobs were lost under the Obama presidency is based on the idea that there’s been a net loss of jobs since he took office. In other words, Romney is taking into account the fact that the economy continued hemorraghing jobs at a furious rate after Obama took office — before Obama’s stimulus passed. But the figures show that once it became law, monthly job loss declined over time, and turned around in the spring of 2010, after which the private sector added jobs for over 20 straight months, totaling around 2.2 million of them.

You can debate whether the stimulus underperformed. You can debate whether the stimulus is the reason the economy did add private sector jobs. You can argue that public sector jobs loss should be factored in. But it is not debatable to claim that the overall net jobs loss number Romney cites is a fair measure of the success or failure of Obama’s policies. At an absolute minimum, Romney should be pressed to explain why he’s claiming this net loss figure as an indictment of those policies, when many of those jobs were lost before the policies were implemented."

This election is just going to be awful.

Betrayed!

So, yesterday, I'm on the train with the kids on the way to The Muppet movie (which, by the way, was a little sad -- when did Kermit get so sad?) and we're reading Wayside School Gets a Little Stranger, by Louis Sachar. Now, I'd gotten the book because my daughter had asked for Sideways Stories from the Wayside School, and the bookstore didn't have it, but they had Stranger stories. And, I'd recently read Holes, also by Sachar, which is a lovely book (until the end, when it's a little too much good news even for a kids' book). But, I have to say, in Stranger stories we got to a chapter about one Mr. Gorf who has three nostrils and uses one of them to steal children's voices and then calls their moms and tells each mom how much her son or daughter hates her. (Mr. Gorf said he did this because these students "took his mommy away and he's going to take their mommies away." His mommy turned students she didn't like into apples.) In any case, this didn't feel like the cruel, fascinatingly horrible things that happen in fairy tales, or in, say, A Tale Dark and Grimm (which I loved). Nor did it feel like the bad but you know it's not serious kinds of things that can happen in books when the author is being "funny". It just read as mean, gratuitously mean. Granted, we didn't get to the end of the chapter because we arrived at our subway stop, but I have to say, I was pretty disappointed in Mr. Sachar. When choosing books for kids, we trust authors we know, authors we've read, and while not every story has to be like the others, I wasn't expecting revenge via prank calls. Boiling evil magicians, now that I'm OK with. Prank calls that make children cry? Not so much.

Update: I just asked Helen if she finished the chapter with her dad. She did. She liked the ending when a pepper pie made Mr. Gorf sneeze out all the voices and then Mr. Gorf's whole nose flies off. I admit it, it's funny. But funny enough to make up for this stricken faces in the middle? I don't know. Maaaybe.

On the Homepage

No big deal, but a certain 7-year-old I know pretty well is on the New York Public Library's homepage holding up a library card. At least she's there today, January 2nd, in the afternoon, when we're just back from seeing The Muppets (she was underwhelmed) and drinking too much hot chocolate at City Bakery. (Well, the girl didn't like the hot chocolate, nor did her brother. The preferred the pretzel croissant and chocolate chip cookie respectively.)

Mitt Romney:Liar.

Of course we know he's willing to unsay what he just said and disavow policies that actually helped hundreds of thousands of people in Massachusetts, and now we know he'll just lie, lie, lie like a rug. (I'm a little law with this post, but better late than never.....)

Pork Cake on Fire

Many years ago I spent an evening with Melissa and her ex-husband (I think) and our friends Josh and Ana, who have long since also split up. We were in Josh and Ana's Brooklyn Heights apartment, which was just about the perfect Brooklyn Heights apartment. Charming and slightly off-kilter, it was three flights up in a brownstone, the kitchen was in a pass-through between the living and bed rooms and you had to go through the bedroom to get to the bathroom. It had two cats, this lovely study off the living room, and, I think, a mantle. In any case, being in that apartment at that time with those cats and those friends was very reassuring, even cosseting, and the evening I'm thinking of may even have been some kind of holiday like Christmas or New Year's. Whatever it was we (or I) ate just an enormous amount, and I purposefully didn't save any room for dessert because I knew Melissa had made something from one of the Laurie Colwin books (Home Cooking or More Home Cooking) that involved whole lemons and suet, or what I understood to be the fat that's wrapped around the pancreas of a cow. I wasn't expecting much, but, you won't be surprised to read, my expectations were all wrong. I was completely devastated when I bit into my bit of suetty, lemony, toffee-liquor-drenched stuff to discover nothing short of perfection on a fork. I don't remember anything more about the dessert (like it's name) but I do remember being so sad that I'd already eaten so much because I knew I was about to eat a whole lot more of that dessert, personal comfort and health be damned. It was something, that dessert, and this post on Melissa's web site, with its recipe for pork cake that one sets on fire before drinking too much reminded me of that very, extremely, lovely, and filling, night. Happy Holidays!

E-Books, Revisited

Lately, the thought of curling up with my Nook to read a good Book just makes my toes curl. I know I'm not the only woman giving up on screen reading. K.J. Dellantonia, our new Motherlode blogger, has done the same. I wish my reasons for not wanting e-books were as clear as hers. She wants her kids to see her reading. This means Ms. Dellantonia has "quiet time" in her house during which they all read together. We don't have that. Then again, my kids are early readers so I shouldn't feel bad yet for not having quiet reading time. I can wait for two years from now when, I hope, my kids will be reading away but not during the quiet time when we all read together. No, I'm not that into e-books just BECAUSE. Because I'm tired of screens being everywhere and doing everything. It's not that I don't appreciate the screens I use. I've come to quite like this new computer, and I'm not ready to give up my TV, even though I watch it less and less. But, I can't help it. I still like reading books that are only books and don't glow, except, you know, on the inside. So will I read Villette, my next big not-chilrden's novel, on the Nook? Or, will I get it from the library? I guess we'll just have to see how long this jag of grump lasts.

The Secret Garden

For a while now I've wanted to write something about The Secret Garden. I read it for the first time a few weeks ago, and when I started it, I thought, "Oh this is magic!" But the more I read of it, what with what happens to Miss Mary Quite Contrary in dank, infected India and then how she blossoms once returned to the moors and sent outside; and then how the lovely and pan-like Dickon comes along and opens the secrets in the garden Mary's found; and then how Dickon's mother, and mother to 13 others, Susan Southeby, is full of motherly wit and wisdom, not to mention the kindheartedness to buy a poor little rich girl a jump rope; and how Colin is discovered and saved....well, it all got to be a little too much. I was going to suggest it was, possibly, the weirdest children's books ever, but then Marjorie Ingall blogged about what I'd forgotten was actually the weirdest children's book ever. Now I'll just say it's an extremely odd and discomfiting book for all it doesn't recognize about itself. It's all that unconscious reinforcement of the healing power of rosy cheeks and fresh milk that makes me nervous. I know that sounds kind of awful, because really, what could be wrong with rosy cheeks and fresh milk? But there are things deeply wrong with said cheeks and milk The Secret Garden because the author seems to think they're So Right. For odd and off, I suppose I'd rather read a book like Coraline which knows that it's being very odd and plays with the whole idea of the big English house, along with some other pretty wonky ideas about mothers and power and buttons for eyes. All this to say, I may never hand Helen or Elliot The Secret Garden and say, "You've got to read this!" Then again, maybe I'll do exactly that, because if I do, Helen, at least, won't ever read it, at least not for a good long while, and I think that may be AOK.

Celebrity Sighting: Carla Hall!

There we were, waiting on the line to board the train from Washington, DC to New York City, and there she was, red glasses and all. My husband said, "Did you see the chef?" It was all I could do not to run up to her and gush, politely, discretely, briefly, about the love.

Love that Carla Hall.

Bridesmaids, Revisited

Back in June, I saw Bridesmaids and really enjoyed it. I thought it was funny and smart and portrayed at least some of what really matters in women's friendships. Sure Kristen Whig's character Annie was going through a very hard time, but nothing about it seemed overly bad for the world of the movies, even though she was going through a seriously rough patch.

Last night, David and I decided to watch a movie. We were all set for a pure escape, total fun, no problem. We were ready for the Anything Goes of movie night. We decided on Bridesmaids. Turned out that since I myself am in a bit of a rough patch and coming off a week of a stomach bug that hit every family member, it hit me a little bit harder. The movie still had some almost perfect comic moments, but it seemed sadder, more strained, even more restrained. Maybe I just have to give up knitting during movie night (because I was knitting the lights were on), or maybe Bridesmaids isn't Wedding Crashers. It's about actual relationships and not exactly escapist when that's all you really want. Then again, our plan B for movie night was Blue Valentine, maybe we made the right choice.

New, New, New Computer!

Well, I did it. After five years, countless crashes, and months of living with the swirly-whirl of death as my constant computer companion, this week I finally broke down and bought a new computer. It's nice. Sleek and fast and the keyboard experience is very satisfying. But, I have to say, it's also a little off-putting, the new computer. The keyboard, with it's nice typing action, is lit up from behind and when I look at it it reminds me of nothing so much as an office building at night. I loathe office buildings and I especially hate the way they're lit up at night. I'm one hundred percent certain I'm not alone in this. Here's the other thing about the computer. It runs the very latest version of Word, which has all kinds of icons and layout options everywhere on the screen. Gone are the days of "normal view" in which a plain document and simple toolbar might fill my whole screen. I was thinking about how someone needed to tell the engineers and designers at Microsoft that sometimes less is more, and then it hit me. I may not like the new Word, I may feel overwhelmed by options when I work in it, not only because I'm so used to the old Word, but because I'm, you know, old. Or at least middle aged, and while I've never been one to be wowed by technology or especially interested in all the nifty things it can do, I'd better start keeping up a little bit more. Like exercise, getting a wee-bit more knowledgeable about technology will, I think, help me be a little bit more flexible as I age. A little more mobile. It'll give me options even when part of me really really wants to opt out. This is my theory, anyway. The problem as I see it is at least with exercise I always feel good after I do it. If I were to sit down to some reading about technology, I know I'd just want to unplug and knit. Actually, that sounds pretty good right about now.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving!

Sweet Potato Pie

Because I am an extremely lucky fish, I had some of this pie -- Sweet Potato Ginger Custard -- last night, and I can tell you, it is Deeeeee-licious.

Is There an App for That?

When I first saw the headline in the Wall Street Journal this morning, I thought I could just avoid it. Then, my husband placed it in the middle of my breakfast spot. "I thought you'd want to read that," he told me. I most emphatically did NOT want to read an article titled, "My Teacher is an App," but I decided I should be a grown-up and see what it had to say.

Reading it offered no real surprises but it was depressing. Education, I've learned, is full of the fad, and technology, from the radio to the movie reel to the tablet, makes for great fads. It wows people into thinking teachers might just be obsolete. Of course, as Lev Vygotsky might tell you, people really need other people to learn and deepen their thinking, but who cares about all that when you're talking about what matters in schools? And apps?

Becoming a teacher makes me feel nothing so much as cognitive dissonance. I can hardly think of an endeavor that's at once so pressured to be seen as professionalized and so infantilized. For every reformer who says the key to great school is amazing teachers, there's another scripting lessons. For every tool meant to foster a culture of critical thinking, there's a sheet of bubbles waiting to be filled in.

Fortunately, though, for all the abstract contradictions, and concrete absurdities, becoming a teacher means I spend one day a week student teaching (next semester it will be four). And there, the kids are funny and confounding and engaging and earnest; the cooperating teacher is marvelous and gives me something to think about every time I'm in the classroom. Granted, some weeks I think about how overwhelming the task of teaching is, but I also remain deeply curious about it. Which is lucky, because if I just read the paper, I'd think there's an app out there ready to teach for me.

Who Wears Short Hair?

I have a complicated relationship with hair - long and short. I would really like to go into it, but it's complicated, and it's late, but still, I want to comment on this essay in Jezebel about short hair. Because even though it's late, and maybe I'm not reading so closely, I think the article basically says, "More than one straight man in the world likes short hair! I know, because I used to have straight hair and men told me I was gorgeous!" And in response, I have to say this: Really? REALLY? Seriously, REALLY?????

Election Day, 2011

I have to say, I was even more excited by the election results and headlines announcing defeat to "Many G.O.P.-Sponsored Measures" and "G.O.P. Overreach," than I was by the moms-don't-sleep article in the Times on Sunday. Way more excited. Maybe I'll even sleep a little easier tonight.

To Sleep, Perchance Just to Sleep.

It's hard to express the level of identification I felt with the article in today's New York Times Sunday Styles section on women and sleep. Or, more accurately, women in their 40s who don't sleep.

It's not as though I didn't know that I wasn't alone in my sleeplessness. A few years ago I made a new friend when we started emailing each other about books and sleep aids. And, truth be told, the sleeplessness of motherhood didn't surprise me. I've never been a great sleeper. Even in my twenties I'd fall asleep quickly and wake around 3 or 4. And can I just say, if you're awake at 3 or 4 AM and not inebriated or engaged in some kind of salacious activity, you're quite certain the world will end because you forgot to take out the garbage. But, at 3:37 AM, when I think about taking out the garbage I also think about everyone else who takes out their garbage, and how all that garbage will pile up into mountains, just like in Wall-E, and not just because the City won't collect it all. Because that's what life is like lying awake at 3 AM. In fact, last night I was awake worrying about an assignment for school and whether or not David Leonhardt was right about climate change being worse than we could imagine, just like the financial crisis of 2008 was. (This was in the Times Sunday Magazine years ago, but I can't find it now, and if I try any harder, I'll add to my sleeplessness tonight, when I'll be wondering why I was blogging and not working.)

So my question is why did I have such a strong response to that article in today'a Styles? Why didn't I just turn to my husband, who told me about the article, and say, "Tell me something I don't know." After all, I was up pretty much all last night, even though I was exhausted from not sleeping for several nights this past week and working all day. Plus, when I read the article itself, it didn't really give me any new insights. For example, the article suggests that technology creeps into our night-time wind-down. Yep. It says that women are perfectionists and want to put out a five course meal every night. Nope, that's ridiculous. Most people I know are amazed I spatchcock a chicken once a week. Still and all, even if the reasons for sleeplessness are run-of-the-mill, even if the fact of it is an accepted part of modern maternity even outside of New York City, it's so awful and cruel, it's somehow better to feel companionship in insomnia. Maybe knowing I'm not alone will help me sleep better tonight.

What's On Your Face?

My (totally awesome) niece Melissa made this video with a friend (who I'm sure is awesome, too, only she's not my niece). It's about beauty products and all we don't know about them. Check it out here.

Cook This Now!

OK, so, I haven't gone on and on too much about Melissa's new book, Cook This Now!, but I should. Because why? Because it's got so many recipes you're going to want to cook right now! Like yesterday! It's arranged by month, which, frankly, to me is like a breath of fresh paper-scented air. I see the recipes for desserts and soups differently when they're arranged by month. I don't know why, it's just how it is. Anyway, moving on from organization, I can tell you that this weekend I'm going to make curried coconut tomato soup and I may get started on mallomars (which I've made before and will make your knees weak). Those aren't from October, but who cares? For next week I've tapped spiced braised lentils and tomatoes with toasted coconut (September), and cumin seed roasted cauliflower with salted yogurt, mint and pomegranate seeds. (October! You can read about it here, too.) Oh yes, also raw kale salad with anchovy-date dressing. (Also October, and I know the anchovy-date thing sounds a little weird, but I know it's going to be great.) Now, I must shop. You must, too! For this book! Now!

What Not to Buy

I don't mean to be all judgmental or anything, but I'm not sure why someone would buy pre-printed notes to put in his or her child's lunchbox. Isn't the whole handwritten connection kind of the whole point of the lunchbox letter?

Time is Short: Spatchcocking!

This week will be completely bananas. There's lots and lots to do on the family and work front The list of what has to happen includes exciting things like cupcakes for birthdays and writing a long term plan for a student I'm tutoring and not-so-exciting things like a midterm about which I'm trying really, really hard not to be nervous. Still, I must share something. It's called Spatchcocking. Say it out loud and you will blush. Try it in the kitchen and you will be delighted. Melissa Clark tells us all about it here.