Blog: May 2007
The Knitter
I don?t know how it happened, but my daughter has decided to delve into some old fashioned pursuits that I never thought would hold her interest. You see, when I was growing up, I was a tomboy?loved to climb trees, build things, play sports, if my brother was leading a brigade through the woods where they planned to set fire to a pile of leaves, I was right there, front and center, holding the bucket of water to extinguish the flames. As a result, cooking and crocheting weren?t two very popular activities in my household. But somehow, right under my nose, while I write about how I am an awful cook and can?t knit to save my life, my daughter has taken it upon herself to tackle those skills instead.
She first enrolled in an afterschool cooking class and proceeded to tell her instructor that I once set fire to our oven and that I?m a pretty bad cook. The teacher smiled at me, laughed and responded, ?What?s shared in class, stays in class.? Besides, I haven?t set fire to the oven once ? it?s actually happened about five times ? not including the one time I created a steak inferno inside my barbecue.
As for knitting, I never had the patience for crochet. My grandmother, however, could knit like an athlete and pretty much made dozens of blankets, gloves, sweaters ? whenever she was sitting down, Grandma was knitting. She also made hook rugs, was pretty proficient at needlepoint and I?m sure there were other knitting projects she was into, I just didn?t pay attention because I was too busy catching frogs and salamanders in the backyard. When I got older, I do remember buying a needle point that I planned to tackle once my cousin was born. Unfortunately, the project still hasn?t been finished and my cousin is approaching her 17th birthday and I don?t think she?s into Winnie the Pooh anymore.
Rebecca on the other hand, is totally into knitting too. Her friend turned her onto it and now she?s asking me to enroll her in a crochet class in the fall. Okay?that?s too weird. My daughter cooks and knits like my grandma. Strange, considering she?s named after her ? maybe there?s actually a part of my grandmother in Becca. People have always told me she?s an old soul, so you never know.
Meanwhile, at work, my boss calls me ?the knitter.? Not because I know anything about mastering the art of macramé, but I?m the person in my department who knits together various divisions of our company to make our publicity campaigns larger than life. If I were a man, I?d be a synergist, but instead, like Grandma Moses, I?m the resident knitter. Maybe that?s why I?m so averse to the whole knitting and cooking thing. While I?m taken aback by these old-fashioned references, my daughter, meanwhile, is completely jazzed about crocheting a sweater or cooking up a soufflé.
Even odder, are the legions of moms that I?ve encountered in my neighborhood who have become obsessed with mah jong. Mah jong! I thought that game was only reserved for retirees in Boynton Beach, Florida but my friends are starting early and joining Mah Jong leagues where they scream at the top of their lungs, ?Bam,? ?Crack,? ?Dragon? and finally ?Mah Jong!? I can remember my other Grandma feverishly flipping tiles in Ft. Lauderdale and she even used my dad as a fill in so she could finish making her vegetarian chopped liver. But now, some 50 years later, there are resident Sadies and Mildreds playing their own version of the game right here in Westchester. Sure, they?re enjoying their newfound passion with wine instead of prune juice, but still, Mah Jong to me is a retiree skill I thought I?d need to pick up in another 30 years.
Despite the explosion of technology that has kids playing for hours with Nintendo DS?s, Webkinz and Club Penguin, there are still girls like my daughter and moms who are more into socializing than texting, and have embraced the things that our Grandmas used to do so well. Kibbitzing, cooking and crocheting. I guess it?s not such a bad thing after all. Looks like it?s time for me to shut down the computer, pull up a chair, grab some knitting needles and embrace my inner old lady.
Incidentally, if you'd like to actually teach your kids how to knit and have no clue how to do it, then look no further...log onto www.TheArtOfKnitting.com and order a DVD for your kids today! They'll be knitting blankets, hats and scarves in no time!
To check out more of our undercover observations, check out my blog on New York Metroparents. To return to Role Mommy, Click Here.
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Posted in: Blog, Undercover Mom on 05/31/2007
Blackberry Meltdown
My BlackBerry has officially experienced a meltdown. I managed to abuse it so much over the last six months that the thing just went completely haywire. Of course, it malfunctioned during the worst possible time ? just when I was coordinating a huge red carpet event with several big name celebrities and producers who kept firing off emails to me about their flights and hotels but all I could do was frantically press buttons that were malfunctioning like R2D2 in the first Star Wars movie.
To be completely candid, I feel like an addict who is suffering from withdrawal. That red light is flashing incessantly, almost mocking me to grab it and try to access my messages. And so I give it a whirl, and the thing starts having a mind of its own ? picking websites I don?t want to visit or attempting to send messages to people I don?t need to reach or want to contact at all.
I can?t imagine what I could have done to break the damn thing. It?s still fairly new, but since the time I brought it home, I?ve used it to access my work email plus three personal email accounts, websites, directions, the occasional phone call ? heck if it could dispense money, I?d be plugging in my ATM password too.
I never realized that this addiction to technology would become so destructive. While on business these last few days, I?d sit at a lunch or a dinner while those with working BlackBerries typed away effortlessly, their thumbs gliding across the keys, out of touch with the world around them because they were too preoccupied sending a message to someone who was several thousand miles away.
My husband always gets annoyed with me when I?m trying to return a quick message while I?m out at dinner with him and the kids. I never really understood what the issue was until I was kicked out of the BlackBerry clique this week. As I stared longingly at that red flashing light, I began to discover that legions of PDA users are completely detached and distracted from the real world. As a multi-tasker, I never thought that my BlackBerry use was detracting from my life, but you know what, it is.
I?ve been known to cross city streets while responding to an email and narrowly escaped injury from a bike messenger who swerved to avoid knocking me over. While in my car, I?ve glanced over at the red light and have been tempted to access my emails while waiting at a stop light, and I?ve even noticed the message waiting indicator in the middle of the night while I was charging my PDA and I?ve contemplated reaching for it at 3 in the morning just to see who was trying to get in touch with me.
Here?s the deal though ? I am not a brain surgeon. Or a lawyer, or an accountant, or a police detective for that matter. I am a publicist ? who is always connected to her office and a demanding legion of people who sometimes work my last nerve ? especially when I?m coordinating a massive press trip for several actors and actresses and am attempting to travel all of them to a city and they keep changing their minds about their flights. In that situation, my BlackBerry is a necessary appendage, so when it started having its own technological meltdown this week, I started losing it too. Thankfully, I managed to get everyone what they needed?even without the help of my BlackBerry?imagine that?
Now that I?m finally back home and about to enjoy the official start of summer, I?m still in possession of my broken BlackBerry and haven?t done a thing about it. Why, do you ask? Well, I?m actually contemplating taking a break from it and quitting my addiction?at least for a short while. No more message returning while dining with my family, bike riding (which is kind of difficult to do when you?re trying to steer without hands) or out and about running errands. So let?s all take a break from the insanity. It?s time to kick back and enjoy the summer and perhaps, instead of sending messages from a BlackBerry, maybe I?ll go out and pick some with my kids.
Check out more of our confessions posts in Time Out New York Kids! Or to return to Role Mommy, Click Here.
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Posted in: Blog, Role Mommy Confessions on 05/31/2007
Esalen Tales by Joanne Rendell
These days, many parents shell out a whole lot of money to take their little ?uns along with them to far flung destinations and on idyllic vacations. But sometimes you have stop to wonder whether we should just save our money and take our kids to the park instead.
Take my brother, for example. Last month, he and his wife came to visit us in New York and brought along their three year old son, Andy. It was no cheap trip. On top of three full airfares from Spain to New York, they also did commando-style sightseeing of New York which meant shelling out for three tickets at the Empire State Building, the Bronx Zoo, the Natural History Museum, as well as a whole host of lesser known attractions. Then there were the meals out, including kids meals which often went uneaten because Andy, like any three year old, was wary of cuisines which weren?t familiar.
Who knows how much my brother and his family actually spent? One thing is for certain though, Andy wont remember one moment of the trip. Okay, he might remember a few snippets and he might even form a few memories based on the photos he?ll be shown in years to come. But he certainly wont recall every minute of his action-packed and pretty darn expensive two weeks in New York.
Take us, too. We?re currently spending two weeks at Esalen, a hippy dippy teaching institute/hot spring retreat on California's highway one, just south of Big Sur. Even though Brad (my husband) wouldn't know his ying from his yang, or his karma from a chicken korma, he managed to snag himself a teaching gig here for a couple of weeks. Needless to say, I insisted on coming along and helping him out and that meant bringing Benny too.
Brad?s teaching has paid for us to be here and we?re being fed tip-top organic food for free. Nonetheless, it has been an expensive trip ? with the flights, the rental car, and the urgent twenty minute drives to Big Sur every few nights to eat overpriced pizza whenever Benny has refused to eat the afore-mentioned tip-top organic food.
Of course, spending the money has been worth it ? just as I?m sure it was for my brother. We?re having a wonderful time and Benny seems to be enjoying himself too. He loves Esalen?s hot tubs and the excuse they provide to romp about naked. He loves the big long tables in the lodge where we eat which provide a perfect racetrack for his small collection of cars. He loves the log fires at night and the people playing drums in ?Explore Our Essential Rhythms? workshops.
Most of all, though, he has loved two things. First, a member of Brad?s workshop was chucking out some old toys and handed onto Benny a cute Thomas the Tank Engine case containing no less than nine of Benny?s favorite engines. The case hasn?t been out of Benny?s hand in three days. He even slept with Thomas pressed against his cheek last night.
Second, at the weekend, we had to make a run to a grocery store in Carmel-by-the-Sea. Benny was in heaven because the Safeway we found ? which has to be the most swishy Safeway in the country ? had shopping carts with little toy cars for kids built onto their fronts. Benny jumped in the first one he saw and then happily beeped and vroomed his way around the store.
I?m sure these will be the only two things he?ll remember about our trip. He wont remember the breathtaking coastlines, the unimpeded view of the Pacific ocean from our window. He probably wont even remember the idyllic hot tubs perched on the cliff edge with the waves crashing just twenty feet below.
Benny will remember nine plastic trains and a souped-up shopping cart.
Ah well, it isn?t about the money or the memories, is it? As all the yogis and Buddhists at Esalen would agree, it is about appreciating the moment and enjoying life?s beauty and impermanence.
Ohmm and Namas Dae!
Take my brother, for example. Last month, he and his wife came to visit us in New York and brought along their three year old son, Andy. It was no cheap trip. On top of three full airfares from Spain to New York, they also did commando-style sightseeing of New York which meant shelling out for three tickets at the Empire State Building, the Bronx Zoo, the Natural History Museum, as well as a whole host of lesser known attractions. Then there were the meals out, including kids meals which often went uneaten because Andy, like any three year old, was wary of cuisines which weren?t familiar.
Who knows how much my brother and his family actually spent? One thing is for certain though, Andy wont remember one moment of the trip. Okay, he might remember a few snippets and he might even form a few memories based on the photos he?ll be shown in years to come. But he certainly wont recall every minute of his action-packed and pretty darn expensive two weeks in New York.
Take us, too. We?re currently spending two weeks at Esalen, a hippy dippy teaching institute/hot spring retreat on California's highway one, just south of Big Sur. Even though Brad (my husband) wouldn't know his ying from his yang, or his karma from a chicken korma, he managed to snag himself a teaching gig here for a couple of weeks. Needless to say, I insisted on coming along and helping him out and that meant bringing Benny too.
Brad?s teaching has paid for us to be here and we?re being fed tip-top organic food for free. Nonetheless, it has been an expensive trip ? with the flights, the rental car, and the urgent twenty minute drives to Big Sur every few nights to eat overpriced pizza whenever Benny has refused to eat the afore-mentioned tip-top organic food.
Of course, spending the money has been worth it ? just as I?m sure it was for my brother. We?re having a wonderful time and Benny seems to be enjoying himself too. He loves Esalen?s hot tubs and the excuse they provide to romp about naked. He loves the big long tables in the lodge where we eat which provide a perfect racetrack for his small collection of cars. He loves the log fires at night and the people playing drums in ?Explore Our Essential Rhythms? workshops.
Most of all, though, he has loved two things. First, a member of Brad?s workshop was chucking out some old toys and handed onto Benny a cute Thomas the Tank Engine case containing no less than nine of Benny?s favorite engines. The case hasn?t been out of Benny?s hand in three days. He even slept with Thomas pressed against his cheek last night.
Second, at the weekend, we had to make a run to a grocery store in Carmel-by-the-Sea. Benny was in heaven because the Safeway we found ? which has to be the most swishy Safeway in the country ? had shopping carts with little toy cars for kids built onto their fronts. Benny jumped in the first one he saw and then happily beeped and vroomed his way around the store.
I?m sure these will be the only two things he?ll remember about our trip. He wont remember the breathtaking coastlines, the unimpeded view of the Pacific ocean from our window. He probably wont even remember the idyllic hot tubs perched on the cliff edge with the waves crashing just twenty feet below.
Benny will remember nine plastic trains and a souped-up shopping cart.
Ah well, it isn?t about the money or the memories, is it? As all the yogis and Buddhists at Esalen would agree, it is about appreciating the moment and enjoying life?s beauty and impermanence.
Ohmm and Namas Dae!
For more Esalen tales, come over to my writing blog at www.joannerendell.blogspot.com. To return to Role Mommy, Click Here.
Posted in: Blog, Laptop Naptime Mama on 05/31/2007
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