This Girl Stuff Is Going to Kill Me

This week, The Girl went off to sleep away camp for the first time. I chose a Girl Scouts camp for her, while her big brother went to YMCA camp. I did this for several reasons, but the most important of these were (1) because it was shorter and less expensive than the YMCA camp, and (2) because the camp came highly recommended among Girl Scout leaders in our area.

That it was a Girl Scout camp is of no small importance. As a child, I loved visiting Juliette Gordon Low's Savannah home. In theory, Juliette Gordon Low was one of the first feminist role models for girls, basing her version of scouting on the idea that girls are not inherently neater, cleaner, prissier, or more careful than boys, however much society would like to make it so. I always got the impression that JGL thought that girls can and should enjoy similar pursuits as those of boys. As a girl, this appealed to me. As a woman, as a feminist, and most importantly, as the mother of a girl, this is of critical importance. 

My hope is that GS will help reinforce what I try to teach my daughter (and my sons): that a girl's self-worth should have less to do with what she looks like, what she wears, and the grades she earns in school and more to do with who she is as a person. 

I will readily confess that as The Girl spent 5.5 days at camp, I enjoyed a wee vacation from my middle child. It's a break I really needed as The Girl is super smart, fiercely analytical, somewhat attention-seeking, extremely perceptive, and often overwhelmed by her own emotions. 

It is exhausting. 

I recognize that it's part of my job as a mother to listen to her and help her to navigate those emotions. But it may surprise everyone (or no one, depending on your view of blogging) to learn that I struggle to maintain my voice and authentic self. This adds another layer of work--and another source of fatigue--to the process of mothering a girl. 

Because, really, our society sends such mixed messages to girls and women. We are bombarded with often conflicting information about how to act, how to dress, what and who to like, what to say and how to say it, and what defines femininity, beauty, popularity, and intelligence. 

And the messaging starts early. In the 18 months since I last wrote about this, my girl has spent the intervening time struggling--and failing--to come to terms with the idea that she is "not popular." As her mother, I see both the positive and negative sides of her behavior and interactions with her peers. She feels excluded and she reacts by pouting. But as her mother, I wonder how an 8-year-old comes to feel regularly excluded by her peers?

As a friend pointed out recently, how are such concepts introduced to 7- and 8-year-olds? And how is popularity determined at this age? Is it self-selection or self-declaration? 

Self-Promotion

Last week, I chaperoned a K field trip to a well-known Chicago restaurant. Its owner, a generous and visionary individual, is in the midst of launching several new projects. The field trip comprised lunch, a lecture, a tour, and lots of filming. There were tweets, Foursquare check-ins, and Facebook uploads by every geeked-out, Smartphone-wielding adult in the room.

I'm exhausted just thinking about it.

It seems like it's not enough to have a point of view or something to say, we must also constantly promote ourselves to make the Google algorithm, combining content and keywords in the right way so as to optimize the search engine.

I'm terrifically awful at self-promotion. Indeed, I've kept this blog for over 6 years and probably have about that many readers (whom I appreciate very much). Over the years, the blog has evolved from an online journal of sorts to a collection of essays.

But maybe it's time to change things? Using some feedback her art teacher had given me as a jumping off point, The Girl and I talked today about her "work" as a painter. The Girl, it seems, rushes through her work as if she's punching some kind of internal time clock. As we talked, she acknowledged that she's going for quantity over quality, which I do think is an astute observation for a 7-y/o to make, if I do say so myself. But, she said, she feels like all the good paintings have been done already and there are no ideas left for her to interpret.

She's wrong. No one else in the whole world has had her exact experiences and thoughts. Her story is worth telling, her perspective is worth painting.

And so is mine.

Stuff I Find

The Boy and The Girl have taken to walking to school in the morning. Originally, The Dad and I had approved only The Boy for this privilege/responsibility, but one day last week, The Girl wanted to walk and The Tot Who's Not wanted to drive, so I let my little rule-follower accompany her big brother on the walk to school. I suspect this enthusiasm for walking (and early morning brotherly-sisterly affection) will drop when the temperatures do, but for now, I'm enjoying The Boy's and The Girl's newfound independence.

It also gives me some one-on-one time with The Tot Who's Not. While I wasn't at all teary-eyed on The Tot's first (or fifth) day of K drop-off, I'm still feeling a bit lost without a little partner in crime. I find myself flirting with babies on the train, or sympathizing with other mothers at the grocery store. I'm starting to understand why generations of women begin pestering their daughters to have children as soon as they get married. I have to wait another 20+ years for grand babies? (Please let me wait at least another 15 years for grand babies...) I suppose I could nanny, but given my views of childbearing, I doubt anyone would hire me.

So I find myself ready to enjoy snippets of time with my youngest child -- such as in the car on the way to school. Yesterday, we stopped to salvage a dresser from the curbside trash. The Tot Who's Not has watched me do this often enough; he waited patiently while I found space for 5 drawers and the case piece itself. Once we were back on our way, I thanked him for his patience. He told me he has a lot of patience.

After he was safely with his class, I went home to unload the car and inspect my find. While some may be horrified by my trash-picking ways, they are probably not on the low-budget side of Apartment Therapy's readers. I get a kind of acquisitive or satisfied high when I find something usable or pretty in the alley. I didn't realize this before now, but it's apparently a trend to do this. I'm not brave enough to look inside cans or dumpsters. I'm pretty sure that Chicago residents, like those of other large cities such as NYC , Philly, or their environs, leave large pieces outside the cans for this reason. I know it's the reason that I left my broken-down Mac Volo stroller outside after a recent garage clean-out.

Like these writers, I get a thrill in finding something useable and unique in the alleyways around my neighborhood. Over the years, I've managed to amass two wooden chairs, one sewing table, an IKEA dresser, a teak side table, a giant wooden built-in cabinet, a chair and a half, two storagalooza bins, a white toy bin, a wooden rung ladder, cabinet doors, two IKEA wooden storage units, a wooden nightstand, a 1905 oak interior door, and a wooden file bin. Some things I've since given away via freecycle. Others have become projects in The Boy's and The Girl's nascent interest in woodcraft. The rest have been repaired, painted, refinished, or recovered in some fashion and put to use in our tiny Chicago Foursquare. Or, in the case of this week's finds, are in my garage awaiting their transformation. There are many things that I do better than this, but this is not a bad way to feed my creative soul or familial predisposition to putter. I do have a couple of rules for how I find and treat my alleyway treasures:

- do not pick up upholstery, carpets, or other soft items

- do not sand painted or stained wood

- air out all items in the garage for a bit

- inspect everything in the alley and when home to determine what/how to fix

- clean everything with hot water and/or vinegar and/or oxyclean before it comes inside

- list it on freecycle if I don't love it and/or use it within a year

Look for a "stuff I found" tag soon.

...Where You Always Save More Money

TimeOut Kids Chicago didn't exist in 2006, when I started this blog. These days, I'm rarely looking for fun things to do on the weekend, but when I am, I'm so glad that TimeOut Kids has already compiled a happenings list for me.

This morning, The Girl woke up in a mood. I tell you, some days I am not sure that both of us are going to make it to the angsty tween/teen years. Which everyone seems to think are summarily awful. As I wrote another day, I think The Girl has been caught in friendship flux this year. And, unfortunately, with her personality, this means that she is fine at school or elsewhere, but bubbles into a seething cauldron of rage when at home, or with her family. I'm trying my best to soothe her emotions, but it's mentally exhausting. In fact, I'm relaxing with a glass of white wine right now.

Part of The Girl's mood was that she wanted to do something with the day. My initial suggestions (neighborhood garage sales, Wells Street Art Fair) were met with thumbs pointed down. Enter the TimeOut Chicago list!

Among the contenders were the Scandinavian Jam at the Swedish American Museum, the Chicago: You Are Here exhibit at the CAF, and my top pick: the BH&G Chill & Grill Fest with Stephanie Izard at Waveland Bowl. The winner, however, fit in with our "Saturday Sweets tradition" (gakked from our Norwegian friends): the Elmhurst Historical Museum's Sweet Home Chicago: History of America's Candy Capital.

The museum, free to the public, is in the Glos House near the center of Elmhurst. It's open on weekends from 1-5 p.m.

I grew up in the south suburbs, so I can't recall ever having been to Elmhurst before. I seriously cannot say the word Elmhurst without repeating the Celozzi-Ettleson Chevrolet dealers' tag line: where you always save more money! None of my children understand commercials, so the joke was lost on them. (Did anyone else watch copious amounts of bad non-cable TV in he 1980s in Chicagoland? When I queried The Dad as to his association with Elmhurst, his response was the word "tree.")

I even looked for mention of the slogan in the museum's other exhibit, a history of the town from the 1800s to the present. Sadly, there was no mention of it. I did learn, however, that Elmhurst started the second ever Boy Scout Troop in the early 20th century, and had GSA and Camp Fire Girls troops as well.

But back to the candy exhibit.

It was nicely done. We stopped in the gift shop/welcome desk on the way in to get a brief intro and a "treasure hunt" worksheet of sorts for The Boy and The Girl to fill out as we went. The Boy is a solid reader and could read the exhibit placards himself, but I found myself orating to a crowd as I read a brief history of the candy business in Chicago, as well as individual business histories--Cracker Jack, Williamson's Oh Henry! bar, Mars' Snickers, Ferrara-Pan (did you know the pan is the type of kettle used to make the candy?), Fannie May, Brach's, Tootsie Roll, Wrigley, Blommer's (so that's the wonderful chocolate smell drifting over River North most days!), Willy Wonka, Frango Mints, DeMet's, Bunte, and lots of others. They covered Keeler's, an Elmhurst fixture that has since shuttered. The Boy and The Girl might remember Mitchell's, the candy store and fountain that was popular in my hometown. The Boy completed his worksheet. The Girl was more interested in finding out how many licks it takes to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop ("three!") to fill out the sheet, which is just as well. Going through the museum was an hour of relative peace and air-conditioned comfort for us all.

Upstairs, the exhibit continued with a hands-on "candy twisting" timed test exhibit (I was rotten!), a guess-that-bar station, and a couple of shorts of Lucille Ball on the candy line.

We drive through what I'd guess is the main drag of Elmhurst on our way back to the highway, stopping at a cute, yet esoteric, store called "Fit for a King" or something like that, which sold chess sets, army men, and doll clothes. We rounded off the afternoon with a pair of size-gigantic iced teas from Starbucks.

Girls...

a.k.a. if it's this bad in 1st grade, how can I make it through the teen years?

No shrinking violet, The Girl is by turns, spunky, sweet, and incredibly perceptive. The competition she imagines that she has with her brothers is entirely unfounded. Because with her dimples, infectious laugh, and the fact that she generally enjoys the same activities as I do, she's my first choice companion for adventures and outings almost every time. 

But the girl relationship bullshit that begins (I've learned) at age 4 or 4 is the reason that I never wanted to parent a girl child. Tears erupt on the playground after school more often than not, and the list of casual slights, perceived insults, and overheard exclusions grows ever longer by the day. As any grown woman will tell you, there's nothing worse to the average girl than getting dropped like a hot potato by a good friend. Yes, you learn how to cope. Maybe you even end up stronger than you were when you went into it. But it sucks.

And it hurts. As a nearly 7-year-old child, The Girl is ill-equipped to handle it. As a 38-year-old mother, I'm not sure how to handle it, and my own childhood is rife with such incidents. The realist in me can see that Stacie, Susie, Bitsy, Edie, and Amy have vastly different interests than The Girl, who leans toward culturally creative and mathematically gifted pursuits. The Girl, like her parents, prefers comfort over style, has zero interest in becoming a veterinarian, and plays dolls and dress-up only when pressed. She is better suited to develop friendships with girls (and boys) who share her interests. 

But as the title of Mindy Kaling's book alludes, the fear of being left out is very real to many adult women, and our grade-school counterparts are unfortunately afflicted with this as well. After all, as Amy Lynch and Linda Ashford write in their book, How Can You Say That?: "When our daughters are little, we [mothers] get to decide who their friends will be." There is a clique of girls on the playground--and The Girl  is not in it. Are these girls the future alpha moms of their generation? It's possible that the exclusion is not mean-spirited, but to The Girl, it feels deliberate. Write Lynch and Ashford, "Even as they become more independent, [mothers] still have plenty of control over how much time [our school-age daughters] spend with whom." 

This struggle is undoubtedly one of the hardest parts of parenting. Obviously, this is not the path I'd choose for my daughter if I could avoid it. I'd love to see The Girl make friends with the girls (or boys) who better share her natural interests, but I'm not sure that I can really choose who her friends are (and I'm not sure that I should). I wish I could say that I have a neat little conclusion for this story, but at this point, I don't. At this point, all I can do is to encourage her to talk to me, provide her love and comfort, and hope that her voice remains authentic and strong.

These Are Days

Recently, a high school friend wrote that the best songs are the ones that you continue to listen to in the car after arriving at your destination (instead of turning the engine off and getting out immediately when you arrive). I had one of those moments this afternoon on my way to Lowe's to pick up polycrylic gloss and a new toilet. 10,000 Maniacs' These Are Days was playing on XRT; I cranked up the volume, sang at the top of my lungs, and simply, enjoyed it. It was the song that played at my wedding. And it's the song that sums up my life now: content with my children, my husband, my friends, my job, my house, my neighborhood. Things are good for me right now and I don't recognize or verbalize it often enough.


This morning, Grandma and Grandpa Naperville took The Boy to Legoland in honor of his birthday next week.  And I took The Girl and The Tot on an outing to the Shedd Aquarium.  (The Dad slept in and watched football.) I hadn't been to the Aquarium since they updated the Oceanarium, although the kids have been a few times with Natty.

Note to self: do not go to the Shedd during a cold winter weekend. Our visit today was kind of a mixed-bag. I have been very spoiled by years of going to museums on weekdays, so the crowds there really threw me. At 9:45 a.m., I was able to park along Solidarity Drive at a LAZ meter, which broke after I dumped about $4 worth of quarters in it. But even at 9:45 a.m., the line was out-the-door to buy tickets at the accessible-stroller entrance, and we had to wait in line even to get our member wristbands.

We headed pretty much immediately to the Oceanarium to catch the 10:30 Fantasea show. Wow! That is really a show. No cute dolphin tricks to an Enya soundtrack. This show is a production. Imaginary characters, lights, an Oceanarium-wide roller screen - wow! I can't want to see it. They had technical difficulties about 1/3 of the way into the show, so they rolled back to a showcase of the animals talents with the trainers. Afterward, we went down to the new underwater play area, where The Tot happily moved rubber shells from one freezing-cold "tide pool" to another for about 20 minutes.

Although I had brought snacks with us, it was now after 11 a.m. and The Girl was cranky, so I gave it up and got lunch at the new-and-improved Bubblenet food court (smaller food area, larger and airier eating area): kids' mac & cheese plate for The Tot and kids' chicken fingers plate for The Girl, a hummus-and-veggie wrap (and coffee!) for me, and chocolate-milk for both kids. Total with our membership discount: $21.

After lunch, The Tot was not to be deterred: he wanted to see the sharks! So we headed back over to the aquarium to the Underwater Reef, the exhibit that features coral, stingray, and sharks. We spent a good bit of time sitting on the floor in front of the tank glass, watching the fish and again watching the sharks. We also oogled the garden eels for awhile. The Tot was scared of the faux tides in the entrance.

The Girl complained all the way back to the car that she was too hot (earlier, it had been too cold). Our trip back home was just short enough that she didn't fall asleep, but she really needed to do so.

Hooper's Store

Grandma and Grandpa Texas and Aunt Sam left today. We went to Curio Cafe for brunch before they left for the craziest airport in the U.S. on the second craziest air-travel day of the year. As I have said before, and will continue to say, I love the Curio Cafe. Grandma and Grandpa Texas have been there several times -- Grandma Texas even went once with her friend without kids! When we walked into a full restaurant and I immediately recognized 6 kids and 3 sets of parents, Grandpa Texas commented that he expected Elmo and Oscar the Grouch to walk in at any moment. He meant it as a compliment to Claudia and Lucy; that they've created a neighborhood eatery with good food and good ambiance, where everyone ends up at one point or another.

After we said our good-byes, The Girl and I dropped the boys off at home and headed out to Oak Park, to attend a Leslie B. show. Grandma Naperville introduced me to Leslie B. last year.  It's like Chinese artisan/Etsy with lots of one-of-a-kind stone necklaces, pashminas, scarves, etc. The Girl behaved beautifully in the car and at the party, staying close to me and serving as my fashion advisor.

And here we go again...

It's nearly October 1, the date on which CPS school applications come out. The Girl is set to enter Kindergarten in Fall 2010, which means I'm about to climb back on the apply-test-and-wait roller coaster that is the CPS application process. Of course, I will apply and hope-like-hell that The Girl gets into Disney II via the sibling lottery, but I'd be a fool to put my daughter's education eggs all in one basket.

Someone recently asked me about my experience with Disney II, now that we're in Year Two. Here is what I wrote:

My neighbor and I joke that we feel like we really won the lottery because our kids got into Disney II. Seriously, it's a fantastic school with a great principal, a committed parent body, an even more committed teaching staff, and good resources. Since my 1st grader (The Boy) is my oldest child, I haven't had any first-hand experience with other CPS schools, but I am very happy with Disney II. I recently attended a parent meeting where the principal said that her goal is to make Disney II one of the top 10 elementary schools in CPS; I have no doubt that she'll do it.

The school mandate is to integrate technology and the arts. There seems to be a greater emphasis on the arts part of it, but whether this is actually true or a misperception on my part, I am actually fine with the inequality. We have more computers than children, so I have no doubt that my kids will get supplementary tech education at home. They have art, technology and gym twice/week and music once/week. Currently, the school's gym and music teachers are part-time, but if they can swing the budget, they'd like to hire them full time.

The curriculum also has a huge emphasis on literacy, which really appeals to me as a reader and writer myself. I do not know how it is at other schools, but at Disney II, the literacy component seems to be very well thought-out and developed. They are the only school in CPS (and I think within Illinois) to use the U. Chicago-developed STEP system. There is an emphasis not only on learning TO read, but on learning HOW to read.

In Kindergarten, The Boy had a harder time of it -- as did my friends' children who were in 1st and 2nd grade last year, but now that he's been trained in the Disney II way to learn, he's doing really well. Watching your kid learn how to read is one of the most daunting and amazing things I've seen as a parent. Last year, I had no idea how they were going to teach my kid how to read, but they've done it and I think he's doing well for his age/inclination. The school had a full-time literacy coordinator last year, but her title has shifted a bit and she is now the curriculum coordinator. She knows The Boy and The Girl and they know her. They also have a few special education coordinators, although The Boy and The Girl don't interact with them much.

Over the summer, the school developed an assessment and benchmarking system to use for their math curriculum. They do use everyday math, which I still don't quite understand. There's no formal math curriculum in K, and I'm only just getting into 1st grade, so I cannot really comment on the math component. There is a science part of the curriculum as well.

Finally, they use a looping/circular system to instruction, which I like because that is how The Boy learns. The school day is 1 hour longer than any other CPS school day. This allows them to make up instructional time missed for staff institute days, etc. and have a daily recess.

The overall vibe about the school is positive. This is a school whose parent population is overwhelmingly present, involved, and interested in their children's schooling. Students put on quarterly shows that integrate all the elements of a learning unit; the first one was last year in December and was SRO - they split them into 2 shows and they are still SRO events.

Our PTA was formed in November; we raised well over $16K last year for a gym sound system, gym mats, percussive instruments, and other things. Disney II is in its last year of funding from the Renaissance Foundation/Renaissance 2010 initiative. A corporate fundraiser for the Renaissance Foundation came to speak at an IAC meeting and said, "You can tell when you walk in the door whether a school works. Disney II works."

Look to the Left....

I decided to follow a neighbor/classmate's suggestion that we go to the Justin Roberts concert at Retro on Roscoe this afternoon, and took The Boy and The Girl there this afternoon while The Tot and The Dad stayed home to nap. Yes, both of them.

A $5 donation got us in the door, and it would have been a fantastic deal if I hadn't succumbed to the $5-per-kid all-access wristband for The Boy and The Girl to go through the bouncy castle and "play" mini golf. I know, I know, it's a fundraiser for Roscoe Village. We got there about 1:30 and waited in line for the bouncy obstacle course a couple of times before sitting down on the astroturf in front of the stage. We waited through about 20 minutes of soundchecks before Justin Roberts and his band reappeared in their nerd-cool wear to do his thing.

I turned to the left during JR's Picture Day song and saw at least 4 of my fellow Homewood-Flossmoor grads. I shouldn't have been so surprised; the last time I went to Retro, I ran into the late Nancy McLinden in front the same stage.

The Boy and The Girl listened and danced to most of JR's hour-long set, but he lost them to the bouncy castles before he finished. We stayed until about 4:30 before calling it quits. At that point, I was hot, tired, hungry, and bored standing in line by myself while the kids played.

Mommy-The Girl Playdate

The Girl was pretty jealous of my field trip with The Boy yesterday, so we took advantage of The Dad's work schedule to take a Mommy-The Girl playdate this afternoon. I had once suggested to The Girl that we get her nails painted on one of these dates and that is indelibly stamped on her brain as the thing to do with me for one-on-one out-of-the-house times.

So we went to get pedicures and a manicure at Lee Nails in Six Corners. The best part of the experience for her may not have been the bright pink polish they put on both fingers and toes, but the Dora flip-flops that I bought her for the ride home so that the polish did not smear in her shoes. Once done with the nails, we still had an hour left in our time allotment, so we walked over to Marshall's to browse around. I tried on dresses (because somehow it's easier to go shopping with one child) and we found a new bedspread for The Girl that matches the color theme in her room (lavender and green) perfectly.

Chez IKEA

It's been about a month since we've been to IKEA. So we went today. The purpose of the trip was to meet Michele and her daughters, and Gina, two Internet friends, but we squeezed in a little shopping as well. The Girl was quite taken with Michele's daughters; she wanted to bring them home with us!

I was hoping that The Girl and The Boy would go into Smalland, but for the first time ever, they didn't want to go in. It was totally fine, though, as the kids watched Robots while eating their mac & cheese, leaving the moms to chat (and The Baby to eat his meatballs and mashed potatoes, and then demand my coffee). Afterward, we went to play in "the berries" area on the third floor, which they've expanded with a bigger floor area, additional seating, and more kids' IKEA play furniture. The Tot had great fun throwing balls out of the pit, while The Boy and Michele's daughters threw them back in. Then I had a surreal "urban legend" experience: I found a pair of scissors (ornate, small, looked like they were sewing scissors) in the bottom of the ball pit. So I was quite relieved when The Boy, The Girl, and the other girls decided to go down to the touch-screen kiosk in the couch section (I had direct-line view of them from my bench).

It was getting late, and with the Air Show set to start at 3 p.m. by the lake, we said our good-byes to our friends, did a quick cruise through the store (rug pad, lamps), and skedaddled. The Girl did not want to say good-bye to the girls and had a little meltdown. Not surprisingly, she fell asleep within a few minutes of climbing into the stroller. I put The Tot in the sling and he fell asleep, too. I was pretty annoyed when a PYT cut in front of me at the registers. Of course, I said something -- hello? I am waiting for the next register with two sleeping kids, a stroller full of crap, and another kid -- and she apologized and explained (but not really).

The Boy was pretty patient with me and helped me at check-out, so I got him an ice cream cone at the end. It took us about an hour to get home.