Happy New Year

As we draw the curtains on 2012, we need to stop and think: what the heck were those Mayans carving stones about? And which apocalypse did Nostradamus actually see? Let's hope that whatever it was it over. Perhaps whatever they saw was an implication of a new world order, a new way of living. Perhaps we are already in it.

Let's toast to 2013, be happy for friends around us and those in our hearts and thoughts.
Comfort to those who need a hug.
And hold our kids close.

Happy New Year one and all and thank you for reading this blog and keeping up my spirits when you do.

What to do on New Year's Eve?

In 2001, my soon-to-be husband and I decided that we'd get married on New Year's Day. There were two prescient reasons for choosing that date. Since we were a bit old to be marrying for the first time (both in our forties), we figured we'd begin losing our memory quicker than most newlyweds, so we wanted something easy to remember for all our futures together. One plus one equals two. Anyone could remember that as an anniversary date. The second reason was, in thinking  about the planning that went into new year's eves of the past, we wanted a future free of hassles, in which we both had dates, plans and partners -- preferably with each other.

So here we are, eleven years in, two days before New Years and we have no plans. We have no idea what we will do for New Year's Eve. We have racked our brains. We have searched through every cruise line sailing from Florida. Too expensive. Too many tourists. Too much partying. We have looked for Caribbean hideaways. Rooms, yes; flights for this week are over one thousand dollars per person. Forget that.

So we've been looking at dinner, dancing options in Miami. Some offer a champagne toast. Others a full bottle. One place has a fancy drink they call champeler. Not even champale, but champeler.

My guess is we will end up home or maybe with some friends. A lovely real bottle of champagne. Maybe a roasted goose. And a partner to sleep with, around 9 pm.

Here's wishing everyone a happy new year!

The Year End Blues

I got them ol' year end blues.

I think it began when I looked at our collection of holiday cards. Well, "collection" might be a bit of an exaggeration. Less than five. You know you are an Urban Nomad in trouble when the holiday cards you receive are from hotels you frequent and airlines you book. The fact that we received more from those vendors than friends or family sums up our year pretty well. Lots of work and moving travel, little time for friends, barely time for each other, hardly any communication.

But thank you Doubletree. Happy Holidays Delta! Best in the new year Bank of America!

I am trying not to concentrate on the naysayers, joy-enders, rule sticklers or doomsdayers.

The world goes on after the apocryphal 12/21/12 end of the universe. We remain with a new home in Miami, a state-of-the-art school for our son, a 4.0 in my first semester in Grad school and an income providing position for my husband.

May the coming year be full of wisdom, love and new ways of seeing the world.

Skinny Old Geezers

"Skinny Old Geezers in Black" is how my son described the performers on the 121212 concert stage for the victims of Hurricane Sandy. When Clapton walked on stage he questioned why there were no girls performing. I'm seeing Chelsea Clinton and she is rockin'!  Yeah, where are the girl rockers??
Where's Snookie? How about some of the SNL girls?

I say let's get some skinny -- or not so -skinny old geezer girls up there!
Rock on.

Playground Fights: A Question for Parents

In the "old days" when a kid pushed another kid to the ground on the playground, it was deemed okay, even encouraged, for that kid to get up and follow through through an act of retribution. Maybe a push-back. Maybe even a punch. Especially if these were two boys. Right?

Well my son came home last night with what looked like purple-pebble scratches on the side of his face. When I asked him about it, he very convincingly said he had no idea what it was and it didn't bother him. I didn't really buy into his story, but pushed no further, thinking if it was still there in the morning, I'd consider calling the dermatologist.

Later that evening, he took my hand as we were walking out of a restaurant and quietly said, "The real story Mom is that a boy pushed me down and I fell on my face on the playground."
"Who was the boy? Was he someone in your class?" I asked. "Did anyone help you?"
"Not in my class, no."
"In 4th grade?"
"He's a boy in extended care. I didn't tell anybody."

Extended Care is the after-school-hours program where kids can stay, do their homework, play, work on the computer. It is supervised. My son didn't seek help and would not give up the boy's name. I asked him "Why?"
"Because he was nice to me afterwards." I'm not really sure what that meant, but I left it at that.

The problem I face is that this has happened before and I feel that my son may not be so well-equipped to deal with aggressive behavior in a way that empowers him. Last year, while attending a public school, my son was in a fight with a boy who ended up sitting on his head. When I picked him up a short while after the incident occurred, he was crying, the boys around him were upset and there was no counselor around to help them. I was furious at the program and spoke immediately with the Director.

We can't keep our children out of fights. In fact, I would not want to, as I am a strong believer that the playground is a fundamental learning area, where we begin to understand human interaction, for good and bad. But still, I am not sure how to react.

So three questions come to my mind immediately:
1. Should I be upset that there was no adult supervising this and intervening afterwards?
2. How do I teach my son to better stick up for himself? Physically? Verbally?  A bit of both?
3. What would YOU do?

I'd love to get some feedback.