The first post I ever penned for this blog extolled the virtues of taking your kids to American Players Theater. My family had ventured to Spring Green that evening, nearly four years ago, to see a matinee of As You Like It. And like it we all did; both the kids and I found the silly romp completely charming. But the comedy's plot -- people running away to live in the forest, cross-dressing for new identity purposes, and group weddings -- certainly didn't resonate much with anything going on in our lives at the time.
This past weekend though, I led my same, but now older, crew "up the hill" to see the company's current take on the Bard's classic tale of doomed romance, Romeo and Juliet. The performance was first-rate, too, of course. But as Isthmus writer Katie Reiser notes in her review, the show highlights the "impetuousness, impatience and narcissism that can accompany young love."
So this time the story line struck a lot closer to home.
While Romeo's age is never explicitly stated in the show, at 17 and 14, my sons are getting pretty close. And my daughter is now twelve and a half; just one year shy of how old Juliet was when she impulsively marries a guy she'd just met at her parents' party. First love, especially for teens, is a crazy, zany, overwhelming thing. And often, as the play reminds us (spoiler alert), such dalliances do not end well.
Thus far there have been no serious romances around our place. But when the time comes, I do think I'll be able to relate to that whole Montague vs. Capulet situation. Not so much from a feud between townsfolk standpoint (I'm sure my neighbors wish we'd mow the lawn a little more often, but thus far, no one's challenged me to a duel). But I totally sympathize with Romeo's and Juliet's parents' desire to like the family of the child their child is dating, And call me a yenta, but I also get Lord and Lady Capulet's overwhelming compulsion to play matchmaker for Juliet -- that Count Paris guy they want her to marry, rich and good looking, is really not such a bad catch.
I'm a little nervous, too, about my kids sneaking out and flirting up a storm behind my back. Granted my house doesn't have a balcony for wooing, but surely with today's social media and texting options it would be pretty darn easy for one of my teens to get mixed up in a forbidden romance while I remained utterly clueless.
It seems a bit unfair that in the play Romeo and Juliet, the audience gets a prologue. We already know how the story will end before the action even begins. But when it comes time for my kids to be caught in the exhilarating, yet often painful, throes of first love, I'm not going to have the benefit of foresight. I'll just need to plead with them to take it easy using the words of Friar Lawrence: "Therefore love moderately. Long love doth so. Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow" (Act 2, Scene 6).
Yes, I know that it's doubtful my kids' first love stories will literally resemble much of Shakespeare's tragic tale. Just to be on the safe side though, I'll recommend they steer clear of poison, daggers and iambic pentameter.
But seeing Romeo and Juliet this past weekend was a definite reminder that I need to prepare for something that might resemble a (Near) West Side Story around our place pretty soon.
And in the life potentially imitating art department, wouldn't it be something if the kid he or she eventually falls for actually hails from "fair Verona"?comments powered by Disqus
Last week, in response to the county-wide Sleep Safe, Sleep Well public health campaign that encourages parents to "share the room, not the bed" with their sleeping infants, Isthmus contributor Ruth Conniff penned a lovely opinion piece in defense of bed sharing entitled "Confessions of a Co-Sleeper."
As much as I'd like to believe there is latent genius in my daughter's early finger paintings, I'm pretty sure her works are not distinguishable from those created by the pointer fingers and pinkies of thousands of other children from across the world.
Seeing Romeo and Juliet this past weekend was a definite reminder that I need to prepare for something that might resemble a (Near) West Side Story around our place pretty soon.
All during childhood, we calmly tell our kids they don't need to be afraid of the dark, thunder or the monster under the bed. But it's pretty hard to keep your parental cool when your kid is about to embark on the one thing that terrifies you. I knew the problem wasn't really with him. It was with me.
Last January, when temperatures dipped below minus 30 and most people between the ages of 16 and 24 did anything to stay inside, a small yet sturdy group of at-risk teenage boys and young men stacked wood and managed controlled burns at Festge County Park near Cross Plains. Five months later, following a temperature swing of more than 100 degrees, Isthmus found some of those same guys removing invasive honeysuckle and buckthorn at Lake View Hill County Park on Madison's north side.
The first week of summer break at our place usually comes and goes without incident. At times, one could argue, it even verges on pleasant. I have no school lunches to pack and the kids have no 7 a.m. buses to catch.
Have you tried getting anywhere on either Verona Road or East Johnson lately? I'm pretty sure a six-month old could crawl to Fitchburg, or across the isthmus, in less time that it takes me to drive there these days.
As soon as the door closed behind him, I poured myself a cup of the coffee he had made and took a moment to let the enormity of what just happened sink in. My son was ready that morning despite my inability to properly set an alarm clock. My kid was ready that morning without nudging, cajoling, or reminding. He was ready, even when I wasn't.
For the past 17 years or so (i.e., since I've had kids), I haven't made books the priority in my life I know they should be. It's not that I don't try. Just this past weekend I had the best of intentions of picking up, and even finishing, I am Malala, this year's UW-Madison's Go Big Read pick. But the copy still sits untouched on my nightstand.
The longest day of the year is upon us. For those of you keeping track, the sun will rise at 5:18 a.m. and set at 8:41 p.m. on Saturday, June 21. All that daylight, courtesy of the annual summer solstice, will provide the perfect backdrop for Make Music Madison, a daylong event featuring hours and hours of free performances in nearly every corner of the city.
Last week, for the first time, I made my way up to one of the open gallery nights during Madison West's Fine Arts Week, the school's annual showcase for all things creative. The scope of the event is huge, with nearly 1,600 students participating, and the quality of the presented works is phenomenal. It's almost as if the school had been lifted off its perch on Regent Street and traveled back in time to Belle Époque Paris.
If you have aspiring authors in your house, this summer offers a fabulous opportunity for them refine their writing skills. For its second summer, the Greater Madison Writing Project, in partnership with Olbrich Botanical Gardens, is sponsoring two week-long camps in August for young writers entering grades 3-8.
There are lots of benefits to living in a college town. First and foremost, there is always something going on -- a lecture, a film series. Maybe even a protest, if you're lucky. And since becoming a Madisonian, I, for the first time in my life, find myself interested in college football.
My passion for the talent show clearly runs deep, but I'm more than just a fangirl. This year marked my second as one of the "Ziegfelds" of the Follies, Hamilton's annual showcase for singers, musicians, dancers and other varied forms of entertainment. Trust me, when you are part of the spectacle's "producing/directing" team you get a new-found appreciation for how hard the kids worked to get up on stage.
My daughter, who turned twelve just this past week, is not legally "of age" when it comes to social media. But I guess, in many respects, especially in those that involve screens, I am a permissive pushover. I've allowed her join some networks.
What adults love about camping -- sleeping under the stars, getting away from it all, the sounds of nature -- can be scary for children. It's dark in a tent. Nothing is familiar. Of course, camping with kids is more work for adults, too. Stay cool, live in the moment. Forget about that lost fork. Making s'mores, spotting wildlife, that's what kids will remember.
I have just returned from a whirlwind, five-day, four-city college tour with my son. You know those "101 Things to Know Before Visiting Disney World" guidebooks that experienced theme park travelers have written to help the uninitiated? I think I am now officially seasoned enough in information sessions and campus tours to give some serious thought to penning a similar "insiders guide" for the junior-year parent.
This past week, against both my will and better judgement, I accompanied 50 or so middle school kids to the Future Problem Solvers Wisconsin State Bowl, a popular academic and skit-writing competition.
It may be a bigger waste of breath than electricity to ask my kids to turn off the lights when they leave a room. If I've nagged them once, I've nagged them a thousand times. No, I've never noticed anything amiss with their fingers. But it appears they are physically incapable of flipping a switch to the "off" position.
I want to say thank you to the Board of Education for allowing Maia to return to class, unquestionably the place she belongs, as well as to thank them for adopting the new policies. But just as importantly, I also want to thank Maia and her family for their willingness to come forward with their story.