At first I thought I'd go the intellectual advancement route. A New Year's resolution to read more novels -- and fewer Facebook posts--these next twelve months felt deliciously high-minded. Then, I briefly dallied with the idea of upping my consumption of fruits and vegetables in ways that didn't include wine or zucchini bread. And I've never really had a tangible physical fitness goal before. Could 2013 be the year I finally learned to do a proper military style push-up?
But traditional New Year's self-improvement plans have just never worked for me. Sure, I like the idea of being a more "well rounded" (or maybe "less rounded," depending on the resolution) person in theory. But when it comes right down to it, I've learned I need to be held accountable to other folks, not just to myself, if I really intend to stick to anything for 24 hours, much less 365 days.
I needed to keep thinking.
Then, on day six of attempting to stretch holiday leftovers much further than food safety experts allow, it came to me. Perhaps my New Year's resolution for 2013 should be to address the all-important parenting question that plagues me each and every day.
Sometimes the kids will ask about it first thing in the morning, before they've even finished their breakfast. Sometimes they'll wait to harass me with it until after school. But they've learned perfectly well that nine times out of ten, even if they ask me, "Mom, what's for dinner?" at 5 p.m., I still won't have an answer.
As far as maternal responsibilities go, mapping out and shopping for a week's worth of dinners is my unquestionable Achilles heel. I'm often scrambling around at 6 p.m. trying to fashion an acceptable meal from ketchup, English muffins and raisins -- the only things I can find in the pantry. Or dashing out the door to the neighborhood store, hoping to find inspiration in the canned food aisle. Sure, breakfast for dinner is always a terrific option. But not when it means Mini-Wheats for the third night in a row.
But this year, things are going to be different. I've known for years that there are whole websites dedicated to helping people like me conquer the "dinner dilemma." I hearby resolve to consult them. And I'll happily take suggestions from others (hint, hint) on easy recipes that even the kitchen phobic can confidently handle. I will make a shopping list every Sunday afternoon. And I will go to the grocery store to buy the ingredients on said list every Monday morning.
I've told my family about my resolution and they'll attempt to hold me to it. They are actually kind of excited to see what I may be able to do from a culinary perspective with a little advance planning.
My daughter even fashioned her own New Year's resolution around mine. She has promised to take at least one bite of every dinner I make. Pretty bold for a girl that essentially lives on buttered noodles, Caesar salad and Cheerios.
So wish me luck. And please send me meal ideas. My success is dependent upon your support. And I'll accept your judgment, too, if I try, once again, to convince the kids that ketchup and raisin sandwiches are a delicacy in some foreign countries.
Last edited on 2013-01-03 12:40:06comments powered by Disqus
Lavish costumes, gorgeous sets, a full orchestra and a concession stand where nothing cost more than two bucks and you have a pitch perfect experience at the theater. Oh, and did I mention the ticket prices were just $10 dollars apiece? One could afford to take the whole family for a live theater experience for less than an evening at the Lego movie would cost including popcorn.
I think the first time in recent years that I've felt a real sense of shame, as both a parent and community member, was last Tuesday evening as I sat in a crowded elementary school LMC to listen to Ken Taylor, executive director of the Wisconsin Council on Children and Families, and his colleague, Torry Wynn, present key findings from the 2013 Race to Equity report to our PTO group.
It's Wednesday morning at Allis Elementary School on Madison's east side, and 16 third-graders -- 10 boys and six girls -- enter into an open-space classroom in typical wiggly, giggly style. Some are making goofy faces at one another, some are bouncing around hand-in-hand with friends, and others are just trying to stay out of the whirling-dervish path of activity.
Of the 789 poorly-composed, way-too-dark and out-of-focus photos currently living on my iPhone, I can count on two hands the number that show my kids and me together. And my husband is in probably no more than three or four of those.
Something kind of magical has happened these past two weeks during the Sochi Olympics. There is no question, debate or disagreement on what will be watched on television once all homework is done. Everyone in the family makes time to sit down together to watch an hour of so of the primetime televised games.
Truth be told, though, this month I'm feeling a bit cinematically fried. In some ways, I already feel like I've spent the last week or so at a film festival. A festival specializing in minute-long glimpses of ordinary lives all ending with credits that feature the ubiquitous blue thumbs-up. Yes, it's been the February of the Facebook movie.
Just last week, on precisely the same day the Momastery post was getting over a million well-deserved views, Madison mom Suzanne Buchko was telling a similar story. Not on a blog but instead in the confines of the modestly circulated Franklin-Randall Elementary School weekly newsletter.
Late last month, the Madison Metropolitan School District adopted a five-year, $27.7 million technology plan calling for all district students, including those in the primary grades, to have significantly increased access to their very own tablet or notebook computer by 2019. Some parents, as well as education professionals, questioned whether elementary-aged kids, especially kindergarteners who aren't even able to read or write yet, will gain much benefit from introducing yet another screen into their lives.
This past Monday, had winter's unrelenting weather allowed, Middleton Cross Plains School District teacher Andrew Harris would have once again been at the helm of a classroom. After nearly four years of fighting his dismissal from Glacier Creek Middle School for viewing and passing on sexually explicit material on district computers, MCPSD has been legally forced to reinstate Herris, this time as a seventh-grade science teacher at Kromrey Middle School.
In a study published last week by the National Bureau of Economic Research, academics have found that the 16 and Pregnant series may have played a significant role in the recent decrease in U.S. teen pregnancies.
In our house, sad but true, we've rarely spent the Martin Luther King holiday discussing race, social justice or the power of non-violent civil disobedience. Instead, the third Monday in January has historically been treated as just another day off school, just another long weekend. And it's been a missed opportunity.
It's not something that happens very often, but last Friday, as news of the impending arctic cold snap reached our house, my kids were rooting for Governor Scott Walker. They were rooting for him to take Minnesota Governor Mark Dayton's lead and cancel school throughout the state. They couldn't care less if he had the authority to do such a thing -- if he called off school, he'd be their hero.
Late last semester, as students were packing up their backpacks one final time before winter break, Middleton High School principal Denise Herrmann and assistant principal Lisa Jondle were co-authoring a note home to parents informing them of a widespread cheating scandal involving nearly 250 calculus students at the school.
Breathe in, breathe out. Have you ever been in the heat of a parenting moment with these words ringing through your head? Then you're on the right path toward mindful parenting.
The week between Christmas and New Year's is famous for all sorts of things. Malls are packed with folks exchanging those holiday sweaters that don't fit just right. It's the week those same folks pledge to never again eat another frosted sugar cookie or candy cane (hence the sweater issues). It's also the week the media saturates the public with dozens of "Best of Year" lists.
This will not (although it could) be a treatise on the value of "alone time" for a healthy marriage, though. Nor will it be an ode to how nice it was for me to have a few days off from lunch-packing, carpool-driving and homework-nagging.
For those of you who haven't yet seen it, the eight-week-long transit campaign, placed both inside and on the outside of buses, features a photo of an orange tabby with a stainless steel bar drilled into its head accompanied by the line "I am not lab equipment. End UW cat experiments!" Just as PETA hopes, the image is shocking and demands an immediate response.
If I had my druthers, I'd sit out the entire shopping week that follows Thanksgiving. Black Friday, for starters, has corrupted the fine art of bargain shopping and turned it into a gladiator sport. There is no percentage off that is worth losing sleep, or even worse an eye, over. Especially if you have kids in tow.
When you shop for toys, there is always the conflict between what you think is appropriate/adorable and what the child being shopped for might actually want/play with.
Many of the pop-culture seasonal touchpoints of my youth are completely lost on my kids. You see, while I may have memorized every word to both the Snow Miser and the Heat Miser's songs from The Year Without a Santa Claus, I'm pretty sure the only Rankin-Bass stop-motion Christmas special my kids have ever seen has been Rudolph.