Same Old Story

Ice Storm.

Snow storm.

Schools closed.

Children home.

Again.

Gym closed.

Again.

Freezing cold temperatures.

I can see lots of warm, adult beverages in my very near future.

And pizza.

That is all.

American Idol Madness

I was so looking forward to the January debut of American Idol. I love the show, in spite of the fact that we, the audience, are clearly manipulated. Those heart-warming stories designed to introduce us and (I think) influence our future votes are pretty formulaic. But, we know this and accept it as part of the American Idol ride.

I don't have the stomach for the more unstable contestants, though. I don't know if it's reality tv overload or empathy or what but this year, I cannot bear to watch the under-medicated chew through their fifteen minutes of fame. They aren't funny to me anymore. They're tragic.

I don't mind those thirty second montages where the worst of the worst are trying to hit a note. They're kind of like a blooper reel in that we get a cheap chuckle without feeling the need for a shower afterward. The bits that are truly awful are the five minute spots with the mentally ill contestants. They're sad and to me, showcasing their auditions bumps right up against the exploitative.

It has been suggested that some of the more outrageous contestants are actors who have been hired specifically to provide comic relief.



I hope that is true but it won't change the fact that my thumb will be poised over the fast forward button because really, in spite of the fact that there is an undeniable morbid curiosity, I just can't bear to watch a human train wreck.

Weather Woes

Guess what?

We're supposed to be getting an ice storm tomorrow.

Oh joy.

Like the week that the kids had off after Christmas wasn't enough.

The weathermen, true to form, are foaming at the mouth and suggesting in high-pitched, excited voices, that we get ourselves down to the nearest hardware store and purchase a generator.

I don't mean to be all cynical, skeptical, eye-rolling, head-shaking, deep-sigh-expelling, but just once, it would be nice if a meteorologist got in front of us and calmly said something simple and TRUTHFUL like, "Yep. Roll of the dice, kids. Could be a doozy but then again, might just be a minor inconvenience." Because frankly, there is something about our terrain that makes it difficult for the weather to be accurately predicted.

Dallas and I are not impervious to the warnings, though. We're planning to workout tomorrow morning instead of our usual afternoon session because the possibility DOES exist that the gym may have to close early.

*sigh*

I am so ready for spring.

Schooled

A few weeks ago, I decided to switch up my parenting methods to include a merit system. I know that it's not a new idea. Kindergarten teachers practically invented it with their gold star stickers but something had to be done in my house, particularly with my son.

Dylan is twelve, wildly hormonal and struggling with one foot in childhood and one foot in adolescence. For months, the only conversation we were having with any regularity was focused on the flaws in his behaviour.

It was exhausting.

And demoralizing for both of us.

One day, angry, exasperated, with my very last nerve frayed beyond repair, I said,

"What the hell is wrong with you? Why can't you....."

I stopped, horrified, as I watched his face crumple in on itself and his shoulders slump. Years ago, I had vowed that I would not raise my children the way that my father had reared his. I would not turn parenting into a war that needed to be won. And here I was slinging one verbally abusive arrow after another. I felt deep, burning shame and immediate regret.

I made things right with Dylan that day but the experience was like a bruise that wouldn't heal. I had to find a better way, other than the sting of constant criticism, to point my kids in the right direction.

Positive reinforcement.

Now, the kids get check marks for getting it right and if we don't catch them in the act, they are encouraged to make their good deeds known. At the end of the week, we add up the check marks and if they accumulate twelve, they are rewarded.

The new program appears to be working like a charm.

Recently, I gave Olivia three choices for her reward. She could either get a new book at Barnes and Noble or an ice cream at Coldstone or two hours of time alone with me. Frankly, with the other two options, I didn't think I stood a chance. My daughter loves ice cream. Abnormally so. But she chose me.

Dylan, when faced with similar options, chose to go to the movies with his stepbrother and Dallas, which was also surprising, because my son lives for trips to Barnes and Noble.

Once again, it turns out that my children are the teachers and I am the student. Imagine that.

The Omnivore's Dilemma

My mother came for Christmas this year armed with gifts, advice and a movie called, "Food Inc." To say that it was disturbing is a huge understatement. Once I had disseminated the information presented in the movie, I couldn't revert back to the way that we had been purchasing and consuming food.

I don't want to come across as a screechy, preachy so all that I am going to say is try to get your hands on the movie and give it a few hours of your time.

A week ago over at RudeCactus, Chris posted about the movie. A ton of people commented and one of them turned me on to Michael Pollan's book, "The Omnivore's Dilemma".

Oh.My.God.

I don't even know where to begin except that I feel compelled to tell everyone who will give me the time of day about this book.

Sunday, Dallas and I traveled twenty eight miles (just over 60 kms) to do our weekly grocery shop at a local co-op that offers a great selection of organic product. Better yet, they try to purchase as much produce, meat and dairy as they can from local farmers who adhere to sustainable practices. We most definitely spent more money but I'd gladly sacrifice other lifestyle expenses rather than go back to shopping at a traditional grocery store. Knowledge is troublesome like that.

We've also given up bottled water.

For good.

Dallas had a harder time getting his head around the perceived inconvenience of this decision because we were consuming about thirty, 20oz bottles a week. But big surprise,it turned out to be a remarkably easy transition. With our new stainless steel water canteens, the switch didn't even cause a blip.

We most definitely do not belong on a soapbox because frankly, we can't cast a bunch of stones from our glass house. But we have the information now.

And there is no turning back.