Take Me Out to the Ball Game

The whole family went to a baseball game out in Schaumburg, Illinois. Read about our wonderful time and why it doesn’t matter whether you are a Sox or a Cubs fan, and why you should take your family to a Flyers game at Chicago Moms Blog here.

Homework Meltdown

Little Eva is only six and in first grade, yet she has to do homework every night. Five nights a week, she has a math worksheet to do. Seven nights a week, she is required to read two little “easy reader” books. Since she was an infant, we have read a story or two to her every night at bedtime. Every night. This summer, Eva was happily reading easy reader books aloud to us as well. Now that she has to read them every day, it has become a chore and the joy of reading is already fading. Honestly, it’s killing me. My Masters in Education training and research taught me that children are better off learning to read at seven or eight. Furthermore, there is ample research on how children love to read until they are forced to do it for homework. School homework really can kill a lust for reading. I just never thought it would happen so soon. My friends who are the parents of second graders in the district warn me that the second graders are not only required to read every night, but they are required to write about it every night as well. This is just too soon.

When Eva gets home from a full day of school with a mere twenty minutes of recess and gym class only once every three days, she is very tired (don’t even get me started, my letter to the Superintendent about the need for more free play and recess has gone unanswered for over a month now). I’d much rather she have the choice to read aloud to us. However, if she takes a night off, she won’t get a cute stamp on her calendar for that day. If she doesn’t do her math homework, she misses out on the few minutes of “play time” which is really snack time. Incidentally, I don’t have her over-scheduled. On the weekdays, she has ballet one day a week and martial arts one day a week. On the weekends, she goes to Sunday school every week and Brownies once a month for an hour.

The other night, poor Eva was tired and didn’t want to do her math homework. She wanted me to give her the answers. When I refused, she flipped out. I had never seen her like this. She was knocking things off her desk, toppling furniture, kicking and screaming. She threw the worksheet at me and yelled, “Just rip it up Mom! Rip it up!” When I wouldn’t she grabbed it back and took a marker and blacked out all the answers she had done so far. This just broke my heart. She is way too young for this.

I am simply at a loss as to how I can change the homework policy at this school. They are so driven to get their scores up. They have made Kindergarten into first grade and first grade into third grade. My daughter is doing homework here in Skokie that my friends’ third graders are doing in Northbrook (schools with much higher scores I might add). Can I make a difference in this district that has been determined to excel at all costs? Would these administrators be willing to turn back the policies they just put into place in the last two years? I’d like to try.

Bag the Poop and Belt the Pooch

Puppy Love poster from allposters.com

One of my neighbors is disgusting. I’m just not sure who s/he is. Someone does not bother to pick up their doggy’s poopie. I have my suspicions. I think it is this woman who once let her dog poop on our lawn and walked away. I caught her in the act b/c I was backing my car out of the driveway just as she was leaving. “Excuse me!” I yelled. “Aren’t you going to pick that up?” “I have to go get a bag,” she replied. When I came home the poop was, indeed, gone. However, I see her walking her dog all the time and I never see her with a bag. I, on the other hand, carry four, yes FOUR bags with me when I walk the dog. He has been known to poop several times on our route and I never want to be caught without a bag. Besides, I don’t mind using so many bags ever since I recently switched from the pretty expensive biodegradable doggy bags to the very inexpensive biodegradable diaper bags by Nature Babycare. I buy these bags at Target and I highly recommend them. I don’t feel bad about plopping the bags into the sewer since it is all biodegradable. Some of you will scream at me for this, but how is it any different from a pile of rabbit poop washing its way down there in the rain? Believe me there is a lot of that going on in our neighborhood where rabbits are as common as mosquitoes (oh and don’t get me started on how many bites I have already this summer).

It only takes one irresponsible dog owner to spoil it for the rest of us. This is why no dogs are allowed in my village parks. Skokie is so gosh darn dog-unfriendly because there have been too many times when an owner has not cleaned up after a dog. I know this because I went to the village meeting many years ago to argue in favor of allowing dogs in Skokie parks. Too many people spoke out about finding poops on the playground, etc. Yuck!

The only thing that irks me more than doggy poops left on the grass are doggy owners who let their dogs ride on their laps while they drive. Have you seen this? The dog is hanging out the driver’s side window, squirming on the owner’s lap as s/he tries to drive. This isn’t safe for the dog, the driver, or for anyone else on the road for that matter! The safest place for a dog in a car is in a harness made for the car — a dog seatbelt. If you stop short, or get rear-ended, the dog will be safe from becoming a doggy torpedo inside your car. There are several brands and all pet shops carry them.

When you do take your dog in the car with you, by all means, do NOT leave him/her in there alone! Even with the windows cracked open, the car can become dangerously hot. My brother-in-law thinks he is doing his puppy a favor by bringing him everywhere in the car and letting him sit there while he runs errands. He is not. The dog is better off in a cool home, even if s/he gets lonely.

Earth Friendly Cleaner in Skokie

Yeah!!!! A “green” dry cleaners (though I think technically, the process is wet cleaning) is now in my hometown of Skokie! Armens Cleaners promises to clean clothes without the harsh chemicals of dry cleaning. The dangers of dry cleaner chemicals are well-known. For that reason, I try to avoid buying anything needing dry cleaning. Luckily, Gadget Man doesn’t have to wear a suit to work, so we don’t have to get anything cleaned too often. Once in a while, I will need to get a dress or a shirt laundered professionally. Fearing the dangers of traditional dry cleaners, I have always wanted to try the Greener Cleaner, another environmentally safe cleaners, but it is in the city. There was just no way I was going to drive so far for that, though I have thought about it. Finally, a “green” cleaner is local. I brought two garments in for a test cleaning. One, a silk blouse, came back perfect. Another, a stained dress, came back even better — sans stain! If you live nearby, give them your business. I want them to stick around.

An Upper Middle Class Tragedy

It’s nine p.m. and the telephone rings. “Sophia? It’s Liza, I’m really sick. I can’t come tomorrow. I know you were really counting on me, but I’ve been in bed for three days.” “Ok, thanks for calling. If you wake up in the morning and you feel better, please, please come! Otherwise, get your rest, get healthy, and we’ll see you next week.” “Sophia, I’m really really sorry.” “Don’t worry Liza, these things happen.” Liza is my housekeeper. She comes once a week and cleans, straightens and organizes my small house for four hours. On this occasion, she was scheduled to come the day before we were having a big party, the biggest we have ever had. I had come to rely on her, and I had become super lazy over the three years we have had help with the housekeeping. As I hung up the telephone, panic set in — I would have to clean my own house! I was in shock, denial even. “Maybe she will feel better in the morning, ” I said to Gadget Man optimistically. “Don’t worry, I’ll get the kids out of your hair tomorrow,” he offered. “Excuse me? Aren’t you going to help me clean the house?” I exclaimed. “Oh, sure,” he stammered, “I just thought it would be easier for you if we weren’t around.” What a doll.

I left the house before 8 a.m. the next morning. I had a ton of grocery shopping to do and I needed to get that done and all the other things I was planning to do while Liza cleaned my house. Cell phone in hand, I telephoned my husband at 8:15, hoping Liza showed up. “She’s not coming Sophia,” said Gadget Man apologetically. I had an idea, I hung up the telephone and dialed my best friend. “What’s Esther doing today?” I inquired of her housekeeper/nanny. “She’s home preparing for a big party she has every year. She’s not even helping me today,” she explained. She sympathized with my plight. “I’m going to make some calls,” she promised, “I know a few people, don’t worry.” Then I telephoned another girlfriend. This friend had once told me that her mom admonished her to never, never go without a cleaning lady, even if she was forced to live on beans and generic toilet paper. “Oh, I feel just terrible for you! This is just awful, the worst!” She asserted. Although she really meant it, I started to feel really stupid.

What a princess I had become! I was embarrassed and disappointed in myself. Growing up, we were one of the few households in Northbrook without a housekeeper. My mother didn’t keep the cleanest house, but she did it all herself. The idea of a stranger doing that work for her was totally foreign. Gadget Man, on the other hand, was raised by his live-in nanny. Regardless, he and I used to clean the house ourselves until I was put on bed rest with Charlie (yes, he really helped). We had to get a cleaning service to help out weekly because I wasn’t allowed to do it myself. When Charlie was born, there was no going back. I liked it way too much and we had already figured the cost into our budget.

Of course, I’m not alone. In 1996, about 9.4 million American households had paid cleaning help (this was about nine percent of households.) With the exception of a couple of households, everyone I know has a housekeeper. So much for living in “middle class” Skokie. The thing is, having a housekeeper makes our house “happy.” Apparently, it is really good for our marriage too. Some experts blame divorce rate spikes on housekeeping pressures.
I calmed down a bit and realized that this was really not a big deal. After all, we had our health, right? I could clean the house and get everything else done for the party. It would just mean that I would be up much later and be tired for the party . In between grocery store stops (no, I can’t do all my shopping at just one store anymore) I telephoned Gadget Man one more time. “Please take out the yellow pages and telephone a few maid services. Let’s just give this one last shot.” A half hour later the cell phone rang, it was Gadget Man with good news, “Skokie Maids is sending a couple of people over around 11 a.m., will that be ok?” I was saved! My handsome prince saved his desperate spoiled princess. What a relief! Tragedy averted.

My Great Escape

Did anyone hear a great sigh of relaxation at about 1:15 p.m. on Saturday afternoon? I wouldn’t be surprised. At about that time, I was getting a massage at Elizabeth Arden’s Red Door Spa. All the nursing I have been doing really gives me a sore neck and shoulders (yeah, I have terrible posture and my nursing slump exacerbates the whole thing). My decadent massage kicked off a night away from everyone and everything. My plan: relax, sleep, and read for 24 hours.

When I first asked for a night away, Gadget Man didn’t hesitate to say, “yes.” I had done this once before when I was pregnant with Charlie and Eva was having sleep issues. Although I would have preferred staying in the city, I picked a place in Evanston to be closer to home. As long as I can walk to restaurants, shopping, and the lake, I’m happy. A couple of days before my escape, a girlfriend called to ask if I was free to go to dinner with a few girls. Although I love a girls’ night out, this wasn’t what I needed. “I’m free,” I answered, “but not for a girls’ night.” When I explained that I would be spending the night alone in a hotel room, she completely understood. After, all, she is a mother of two little ones too. When my parents found out I was spending a night away from home, they didn’t get it. They thought I was depressed again. It was tough explaining my need for a night away to a mother who sacrificed every bit of herself for her family.

Without my knowledge, Gadget Man had prepared the children for my departure two days in advance. When I approached the subject with Charlie and Eva, I was pleasantly surprised that they already understood I would be away from home for a little bit. When the time came to go, Gadget Man whisked the kids out the door for an adventure of their own so they wouldn’t be able to dwell on my goodbye.
I arrived early enough to buy some “guilt gifts” for the kids at Wild Child just before my massage. After my massage, I lingered in some of the shops on the way to the Orrington Hotel. Finally, sitting at the desk in my hotel room, I munched quietly on the giant salad I had picked up at Whole Foods, and sipped sparkling water out of a wine glass. After my lunch, I settled down under the covers with a novel from Sue Miller — Family Portraits. I promptly fell asleep for the next two hours. When I woke up, I turned on the television and browsed the movie selections. Then I paged through a few magazines I hadn’t had time to read at home. I phoned in my Chinese food order and bundled up for the walk outside to pick it up. I know I could have ordered it to be delivered, but walking around is part of the fun for me. I passed several Northwestern students, and wondered if they knew how lucky they were to be so young and so free to enjoy this Saturday night and all the Saturday nights to come. I considered stopping in a pub to hear some live music, but the mere idea that I could do it if I wanted to was enough freedom for me. I really just wanted to get back to the room with my sweet-n-sour shrimp and hunker down with a movie.

I was asleep by ten, and although I picked my head up at six a.m., I put it back down and didn’t get up again until eight a.m. Talk about well-rested! Since Charlie wakes up every couple of hours or so, I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in ages! Next on my agenda was a long, long walk along the water with a cup of coffee in my hand. After my walk, I stopped into the Barnes and Nobel and stayed and stayed. I can hang out in a bookstore for days if permitted. By this time, it was almost check out time and I had to return back to shower (the tub was disappointingly small). Even though I was having a great time with myself, I missed my children and my Gadget Man.

When I arrived home, I was greeted by two smiling healthy children. They had survived without me. Even the house looked good. Following the hugs, the jumping up and down, and the “Mommy’s here! Mommy’s here!”, I presented the gifts to the children. “I knew you would bring us gifts!” Eva exclaimed. As I watched Eva grab Charlie’s gift from his hand and Charlie’s tears begin to fall, I turned to look Gadget Man in the eye and pleaded, “It’s OK if I do it all again next weekend, right?”

Nothing Says “I Love You” Like a GPS Locater

My husband (I just decided I will call him “Gadget Man)” just bought me the Garmin 260 GPS locater. Now, I had asked him to wait until the prices really dropped on these GPS things, but he insisted I needed it. Gee, I’m not sure he’s right about that. Just the other day I phoned him at work in a panic because I was lost going to the La Leche meeting I had been to at least four times in the past. I needed him to look on a map and tell me how to get there. It turns out, I was only five blocks away, but I was completely stumped on how to get there from my location. Indeed, I have no sense of direction. Living in Chicagoland, I rely on the lake being to the east. If I can “sense” where the lake is if it is not in my view, I at least know North, South, East and West, but that doesn’t get me very far. I even get lost in the town I grew up in, even though my mom and dad still live there! Gadget Man knows his way around better than I. Anyway, I got this new GPS thing and I’m sorry for the money we spent on it, but I’m psyched to try it out. Also, I think the gesture was pretty sweet. Wish me luck!

The Sunrise

 My husband came back from a business trip last night so I got to go for a walk by myself this morning.  He leaves at 6 a.m. so, when I begin my jog/walk, the sun is just coming up. It was a marvelous jog to Starbucks and a wonderful walk home.  We don’t have this great view of the city, but the sunrise was just as pleasing.  Ah, moody mommy is in a good mood today.

Sunrise over Chicago ( from a website Tabblo by Crusing):

Words of Wisdom

Don’t have work done on your house  so that it causes the entire house to be covered in plaster dust while you are having a miscarriage and  while your kids are home in between school ending and camp beginning and when your husband has to come home very late from work that day.  Enough said.

Farewell to a Beloved Tree

We got a notice from the village yesterday that they will be cutting down the beautiful tree in front of our house.  Many years ago, it was struck by lightening and it has been struggling ever since.  We have a big bay window in our living room that looks out onto this tree.  Our bedroom window also looks out onto it.  It frames the front of our house.  We have been calling her our “enchanted tree.”  My son and daughter and I have been talking to it and putting our hands on it for a few weeks now.  We were hoping it would rally if we sent it a healing message.  My daughter and I have been very sad since we got the news.  My husband, knowing how much I love the tree, said, “It’s about time.”  I thought that was pretty cold.  When I shed some tears for the tree, he just didn’t get it.  Yeah, it is a tree, but it is our tree.  Out here in the ‘burbs there isn’t much to look at, but that tree was one of the nice things about our front lawn.  I’m going to talk to the village to make sure that there is nothing else we can do.  Wish me luck.