I was sick of this story before I even read a single word. After cheering for the Broncos, I watched the first half of the Seahawks v 49ers game, then kicked my husband and son down to the basement to watch the rest because my DVR was busy recording Downton Abbey and Revenge, so we couldn’t watch a third show. I don’t have a dog in this Superbowl race this year. My Giants were out of it in the first month of the season. My Panthers lost the previous week. So I was down to rooting for Peyton Manning and former Panthers coach, John Fox.
It wasn’t until I received a call from my girlfriend about this whole Richard Sherman thing that I actually knew it had happened. (Yes, husbands. Your wives actually had a phone conversation about football. You may consider yourselves lucky.)
When I watched the video interview, I was predictably disgusted and disappointed. What a missed opportunity. This cornerback could have been featured on every sports page, every social media outlet, even every front page headline for being a fantastic role model, or even an eloquent spokesperson. But no, instead, he used his five seconds on camera to exemplify selfishness, arrogance and ego. What a missed opportunity.
I chatted with my husband about how frustrating it was for my friend, who is striving to supply her athletic son with positive role models. We ended up agreeing that this was as much Sherman’s fault as it was the network’s and the team’s. These interviews are arranged beforehand, with full knowledge that they are giving the spotlight to a trash-talker with a bad reputation. It was obvious that this was simply a ratings ploy. And it worked. Here we are, talking about it, just like they wanted.
I wasn’t planning to spout off about it at all until today, when I read some of the articles defending Sherman. Specifically, this BlogHer article, claiming to offer a mother’s perspective, and this HuffPost piece, which brushes the broadest stroke to say that America is upset because Sherman is from Compton and we don’t like outsiders.
First, as a mother of three, I can 100% accurately claim that no, neither I nor my children have ever proclaimed ourselves as the “best ever” after a game. Not in our house. Not on a field. And certainly not in a public forum, much less on national television. Why? It’s not because we are repressed, or self-doubting. It’s because we were taught better. Our parents, teachers, coaches, and communities instilled in us a sense of good sportsmanship that precludes this kind of angry, self-aggrandizing showboating.
As a mother, I say, yes, encourage kids to celebrate. But teach kids humility, even in the heat of the moment. No, especially in the heat of the moment.
Pride in accomplishment is absolutely encouraged, but awareness and acknowledgement of a team effort should never be overlooked. Whether it’s a great play in a football game, a win in a spelling bee, or an award for a scouting achievement, teach kids to be aware of and acknowledge those who didn’t win in a way that shows you appreciate them for the competition. I wouldn’t allow my kid to behave like Sherman did, even on the sideline. But if my son ever spewed that garbage from his mouth to a camera, I’d have him suffering punishments and serving time in some way that ensured a new-found appreciation for the losers.
Sherman’s charitable actions and scholarly achievements off the field only serve to bolster my point. Sherman is an underdog. If we’re talking winners and losers, he began as the latter. It’s great that he has worked his way up to the former, but he of all people should know better than to perch himself too high to fall.
As for What Richard Sherman Taught Us About America, this drivel spouts that our citizenry is too prejudiced to accept this kind of behavior because of where Sherman grew up. On the contrary, I believe the fact that Richard Sherman was given a microphone at the end of his most successful game in his career states otherwise. We simply were hoping for something worthwhile to come out of his mouth. Instead, we got his ego, up close.
I feel like every HuffPost author seems to think we are all too selfish and should give more to others, that we are bad people for wanting to keep anything that we have earned or enjoy the fruits of our labors. But how do you justify the hypocrisy of sharing and equality and boosting our fellow man versus championing Sherman’s selfish, glory-hogging, rant? Have we lowered our standards to the point where we should be honoring him simply because he hasn’t been arrested?
I don’t think Sherman taught us anything about being Americans. I think Sherman sets a perfect example of what not to do for our kids and our country. If Sherman is a lesson on class, I don’t think the lesson is that we don’t accept those from lower-class upbringings. Instead, Sherman’s lesson is that we all should show a little more class when opening our mouths to a national audience.
Class doesn’t come from money; it comes from character. There are millions of rags to riches achievers who had class long before they had success. Being a Stanford graduate and donating money to charities shows drive and generosity. But it doesn’t show class. Using your five seconds to shout and cheer excitement for your team, your city, the sport, that would have been nice. Using it to nod your head to your competitors in a gracious way could have been a real example of class. Instead, Sherman erased everything we know about his achievements and his philanthropy and showed the world an example of having no class.
No, this one clip does not define the whole man. At least, I hope not. I hope that, in addition to whatever apologies he makes for this moment of diarrhea-mouth, he shows better judgement in his future actions. Empty words of apology are far too common in the news. However, learning from this and showing real class in future moments could teach everyone a bit about true progress.
We all know that parents worry. From the instant the pregnancy test reads positive, there is a sinking realization that, despite thinking we had all the answers just five minutes ago, we now know for a fact that we truly know NOTHING.
Parenthood is the ultimate equalizer. Unfortunately, everyone else does such a good job faking it, that we each suffer a silent misery, thinking we are the only parents without a clue. However, even though there are stacks upon stacks of parenting books out written by so-called “experts,” we all end up figuring out this parenting gig on our own, mostly by trial and error.
That original worry from the early stage of diaper changes, feedings, and sleep deprivation becomes both stronger and weaker with each passing phase. We learn to take things in stride and try to save our freak-outs for bigger issues.
Likewise, when you have subsequent children, your worries over your crappy parenting become both bigger and smaller, too. We know what worked and what didn’t with bottles or breasts, but we panic when we worry that we’ll have to divide our time and attention among multiple kids.
We try to balance our efforts between kids, while learning from our mistakes and experience. Suddenly, we realize that, because we are learning on the job, we are not parenting each of our children the exact same way. Guilt over taking time and attention away from our first-born morphs into guilt that we have screwed up our oldest worse than his younger siblings.
I’ve always told my oldest that he has the toughest job in the family because he is the one who has to teach me how to be a mom. Yet, just yesterday, I had the first inkling that maybe an experienced mom does not always equal a better mom.
My middle child had a playdate after school, during which they mostly watched TV and played a video game. Sure, there was snack time and Lego time mixed in, too, but the majority was TV and computer. If that had been my oldest child when he was in second grade, I would have announced, “Okay guys. No more screen time. Go play outside or upstairs for a while.”
It was that realization that made me wonder, “How does birth order affect how I parent? Am I really doing right by my younger kids?”
I mean, we all joke about how crazy we were with our first babies compared to our younger kids. Dropped pacifier? Wipe it on a pant leg — third kid! Missed nap time? Oh well, she had to tag along to soccer practice. Even diaper commercials use that theory in advertising.
We like to think that we “get the hang of it” and are better for our experience. But are we really being better parents? Or just lazier?
The truth is, we can’t tell which way of parenting is better or worse. Is my oldest such a worrier because he picks up on my unease over the unknowns of all of his firsts? Or am I raising a slacker kid in his younger brother who has learned how to manipulate me more expertly? Will my daughter be spoiled and vain because I raise her as my last baby?
It’s no longer a question of “Am I screwing them up?” It’s become more a worry of “Which one am I screwing up the worst?”
I guess we can’t ever really know the answers until they’re grown and charging us for their therapist bills. I only hope that, by then, they’ll realize that it was all just a giant crap shoot for us as parents. That our intentions were good and always driven by love, and pride, and a little bit of fear.
I just hope they know that, no matter how much we worried over parenting them fairly, there was never any limit to how greatly we love each of them.
I am not good at sticking to resolutions. Never have been. I have great ideas, and usually start out well, but I am a creature of habit, and habits are really hard to break. However, I do think it’s a good idea to look inward and see the many ways in which I can improve and become a better person. That is not to say that I am unhappy or that resolutions are a way of making us feel bad about ourselves. But the New Year is a fresh start and I could use a few of those. So here I go. I’ll try to check in every three months or so with a progress report to see how I’m doing.
I got this idea after reading it on Amy’s Real Life. Thanks for the idea, Amy!
Resolutions for 2014
1. Follow Through – If I make plans, I will do my best to stick to them. I’ve become a bit of a homebody and would rather stay home than go out. So friends, I’m enlisting your help. If I say I’ll go, then try to back out, call me on it.
2. Limit Computer Time – When I do get spare minute, my instinct is to reach for the computer. Often I’ll put off the kids for 5 mins (or an hour) because I’m caught up reading something online, or checking Facebook or email. 5 minutes too easily becomes 45 minutes for me, and other things around the house suffer, too. I need to put time limits on my own computer use, just like I do for my kids.
3. Get Outside – I am a fair-weather runner, which means I’m only exercising outside in Spring and Fall. My body and my mind need more time spent with nature. Whether it’s a walk around our neighborhood, a hike in the woods, or simply playing basketball or hockey in the driveway with the kids, I need to spend more time outside.
4. Knit Something – I know, I’m not eighty years old, but when the kids got their Rainbow Looms, I realized that I like the catharsis creating something with my hands. Last month, I started a test square and it’s almost finished, albeit with many many mistakes. I’d like to start a real knitting project, even if it’s something as simple as a scarf. Maybe if I start now, it’ll be finished in time to give as a gift next Christmas!
5. Listen to more music – I love music. All holiday season long, I’d tune into the OnDemand music channel and listen to Christmas songs. I get more done with music playing. It boosts my mood and spurs me onto to accomplish more things. I need to turn on the tunes more often in the house.
6. Take guitar lessons – My son wants to learn and so do I. I’ve had an acoustic for almost ten years, but I can only play the intro to Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive.” I want to learn chords and how to read guitar music. Anyone know of a good local guitar instructor?
7. Write my next book – Or, at the very least, START it! I’ve had the idea for my next book for months now, but haven’t written a single word. With all of the indoor time I’m facing now this winter, I resolve to get it done. Or at least started.
8. Teach More, Do Less – This one is a parenting skill I need to improve. With three kids under the age of 10, I tend to do more FOR the kids in the interest of saving time and mess. Whether it’s shoe-tying, taking out the garbage, setting the table, or cooking, I tend to be a control freak. I know that I’ll do it the right way, so I just do it all myself. Then I get angry that no one helps out around the house. My fault. My daughter is the “Teach Me!” kid and she’s reminding me just how capable children are if we simply show them how. I need to slow down and teach.
9. Make my bed every day – Seems silly as an adult to have this as a resolution, but I need it. On days that I make the bed first thing when I wake up, the day seems to go more smoothly. Maybe it’s seeing that one, restful space, all neat and tidy when so many other areas of my house and my life are a cluttered mess that puts me in a good mood. I don’t know. But I need to make the bed every day.
10. Get a colonoscopy – Yuck, I know. But as my family reminded me over the holidays, colon cancer took my maternal grandmother way too young. I was shocked to know that every one of my cousins had already done this. I need to get on the ball.
11. Go skiing – I used to LOVE skiing. I learned when I was 4 years old and went all the time. I was on the ski team in high school and even coached my racers when I was a teacher. It shames me to admit this, but I haven’t been skiing for over 13 years. I need to get my kids on skis and teach them how much fun shooshing down the slopes can be.
12. Keep receipts – I did an okay job of creating a tax folder this year for things like medical records and charity donations, but I need to be better at remembering to put everything in that folder. Tax season comes and I know I’m throwing away money with all of the missing receipts.
13. Eat more veggies – I love vegetables. When I actually make the effort to cut up raw veggies or prepare cooked ones in tasty ways, I eat a ton of them. It’s not that much effort, but I need to focus on getting more veggies into my diet.
14. Keep an indoor plant alive – Plants are supposed to be good for healthy air. I like plants. I just tend to kill them. So I’m going to see if I can find an indoor plant that I like and remember to water it enough to keep it alive.
15. De-Clutter – This one goes on every resolution list every year. I guess it will continue to show up until I get it under control. I have too many piles of everything (mail, folded laundry, books, etc.) on too many surfaces. When my house is clutter-free, my mind is clearer. This is one for my whole family to tackle.
16. Find and hang curtains – We’ve been in this house over 7 years and still only have sheers on our dining room windows. I’m too picky. I need to finally just choose from what’s out there and buy and hang them.
17. Drink water every night – When I remember to do this, it really helps. One full glass of water before bed really helps me to sleep better and wake up feeling refreshed. I’ve heard it’s good for your skin, too. I need to do this every single night.
18. Figure out how to use the Cloud and give each kid their own Apple ID – We currently all share one iTunes Apple ID (mine) and I’ve done that on purpose so I can get notifications and see everything that the kids do on their ipods, etc. However, syncing iTunes, games, and keeping track of everything is getting difficult. I need to learn how to use the technology we have to make life easier, not harder.
19. Schedule real date nights with my husband – My parents have offered to babysit the kids for an overnight once a month. We know this, yet our schedules tend to get so crazy that we don’t make it happen. We need to go out, just the two of us, as least once a month. We love each other and date night helps us remember why.
20. Set-up my coffee maker every night - I insisted on a programmable coffee maker so I could set it to brew my coffee every morning on a timer. I love waking up to a fresh, hot cup of coffee every morning. However, it only works if I set it up the night before! There’s that follow-through thing again.
What do you resolve to do this year?
The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2013 annual report for this blog.
Thanks to all who have visited in 2013! I hope to bring more fun and interesting stuff in 2014!
Happy New Year, everyone!!
See how this year compares to previous years:
THIS POST IS NOT FOR CHILDREN. FOR PARENTS ONLY!!
There’s a rumor going around that some of the kids in my son’s 4th grade class are mouthing off that there is no Santa Claus. Now, I know some of these kids are older than my very young 9-year-old who won’t turn 10 until this summer. I know that this is the normal age that kids stop believing. But I am not ready for this milestone. Especially because he is my oldest and I really don’t want Christmas to be ruined for his two younger siblings.
I still remember the day I stopped believing. I was 11 years old. A naive, innocent, sixth grader. I was sitting at a lunch table with my friends when one of them casually said, “You know Santa’s not real, right?”
Not wanting to seem stupid or uncool, I nodded and said, “Oh yeah, of course,” between bites of my sandwich. I slowly chewed whatever it was I was eating, not wanting to swallow any food anymore. On the outside, I was calm and unworried. But on the inside, I was crushed. I felt like someone was squeezing my heart and ripping it out of my chest. I felt stupid; I felt sad. I felt like someone I loved had died, but I couldn’t show it. I felt like crying, but didn’t want my friends to think I was a baby. That 11-year-old memory is so clear that I still feel as heartbroken now, telling the story, as I did then.
My son hasn’t shown any signs of not believing yet. But I see him watching closely, taking it all in. He is very much like me in that regard. Even after that fateful lunch period, I still didn’t go home and tell my parents what I had learned. I kept it all inside, until I came to terms with it on my own. I have a feeling that’s how he will handle it, too. I just hope he believes a little while longer.
Here’s the thing about not believing in Santa and all of the magic of Christmas. It turns kids from innocents with pure hearts into skeptics. It transforms them into doubters and makes them question everything in life. Of course, this would naturally happen anyway, as it’s part of growing up, but what’s the harm in holding off that unpleasant inevitability for another year or two?
So parents, this is what I ask of you.
PLEASE do not rush this discovery.
PLEASE allow them to stay little, for just a little while longer.
Follow these ideas for helping the kids continue to believe. And, if your child is one who has stopped believing, PLEASE sit them down and tell them NOT to talk to other kids about it. Your little smarty-pants just might be crushing a classmate from the inside out.
How to Keep the Kids Believing in Christmas:
1. The Elf on the Shelf — Either do the elf or don’t. But be sure you’re willing to take on the responsibility. You don’t have to get crazy, but try not to follow some cookie-cutter identical schedule followed by every household either! And, as with Santa, if your kid doesn’t have an elf, or doesn’t believe, sit them down for a talk about keeping quiet on the subject.
3. Be Tight With Santa — Santa cooperates with parents. Explain that we tell Santa what we get you to avoid duplicates. Sometimes Mommy forgets who got what for whom. We cooperate. We work together. Yes, some of what was on Mommy’s Amazon wish list was actually delivered by Santa, not by the post office.
4. The Elf Stands Alone, Part 2. Regular toys don’t come to life during the year. The elf is the only one who moves, hides and plays tricks. No leprechauns, no birthday fairies, and no mischievous dinosaurs. Keep the elf special and unique by not doing the exact same thing all year long.
5. Take the credit. It’s okay to get credit for doing things as parents. If you want to see that look of awe and magical wonder on your kids’ faces, surprise them as much as you want! But it’s okay to admit that you, the parents, have done this wonderful thing for them. Let them experience that amazing special feeling that they are so important to their family, that their parents would do something magical for them. Santa doesn’t need all of the credit. He’s very good about sharing.
6. Watch the movies. Explain questions as they arise, but keep quiet if they don’t. And, for the love of God, don’t turn it off halfway through because you’re afraid that the movie may make them question their belief. Every Christmas movie has a happy ending. The kids need to see that to know that the doubt gets resolved!
Please help keep kids just a little sweeter and more innocent for just a little while longer. Talk to older kids about the importance of keeping quiet around their friends and siblings. And encourage the younger kids to believe. We all could use a little more Christmas magic.
Originally published in 2010
I am relatively new to the town of New Providence. My family and I moved here a little over three years ago from Charlotte, NC, where we were for six years. For those of you not familiar with Charlotte, it’s a sprawling, mid-size Southern city. It’s usually toward the bottom of the list of Top 25 US cities by population, but it’s there. With New York and Philly as our two closest cities to us here in northern Jersey (both in the top 5 of the population list, by the way), we may not perceive it as a “big” city, but there is no denying that it definitely is a city, not a small town.
Even though I was in Charlotte for so long, I am a true Jersey girl. I grew up in Morris Plains and went to school in Morristown. So when we decided to move back to NJ, I knew that I was coming home. I wanted to make sure we moved back to a small town like the one in which I was raised. A town where you could walk from one end of town to the other if you had to, even though no one really does. A town that had functions like Rotary breakfasts and small-town parades and street fairs. I knew my cousins had grown up in New Providence years ago, and that it fit the good schools and small town bill, so we moved here in the fall of 2006.
The Christmas season came on fast that year for us. With the craziness of moving and settling in, it felt like we barely had time to breathe before we were putting up our tree and lights. We didn’t know many people here then, so when my aunt called to tell me that the New Providence Christmas Walk was the Friday after Thanksgiving and we should go, we went. We wanted to take advantage of the small-town things like this that were the reason for our move.
After six years of living in the city of Charlotte, it was that night, at our first Christmas Walk, that I discovered the true joy of coming home. We were only a family of four then. My oldest son was only two and my youngest had just had his first birthday, so we had the double stroller for them, but soon lifted them out onto our shoulders to enjoy the sights. They pointed and laughed as Santa appeared on the roof of the bank and was brought down in the bucket of the fire truck. They clapped along to the high school marching band playing “Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town,” and looked around in wide-eyed fascination at the crowd who walked behind the truck and the band down the streets of their new home town.
We followed the crowd that night to the lawn of the Presbyterian church where we pet the live animals and gathered around to watch the children perform the story of the first Christmas. There were many memorable moments for me that night, but the one that hit me the most was standing there that night when the town started to sing Christmas carols together on the lawn of the church in front of the live nativity. There was something about singing “Silent Night,” along with strangers sandwiched together on a cold night outside of a small-town church that just made me feel like I was home.
I will never forget my feelings from that night. I was almost in tears from being just so happy as we loaded our family back up in the car to head home. After we got back and put the boys to bed, I sat down and emailed all of my friends in Charlotte about this Norman Rockwell experience we had just had. I knew then that this would be a tradition our family would repeat year after year.
Three years and four Christmas Walks later, this small town does not disappoint. I now recognize faces of friends and neighbors as I walk through town and take part in the festivities, though. My sons are now in school and we have our daughter to join in and experience the wonder as well. My parents join us for the Walk every year now, too. In fact, I just learned this year, that they used to come with my aunt and uncle for this experience when they were dating.
I am one of those people who loves music and finds meaning in song lyrics. I had adopted Bon Jovi’s “Who Says You Can’t Come Home” as my own personal theme song for our move back to NJ in 2006. Every year after we go to the New Providence Christmas Walk, I remember that song and that night. I am able to relive the magic and wonder of feeling a part of a small town again and the absolute joy at realizing that, although this wasn’t my childhood home town, it was our new home town that would give us memories and moments like this to just take in and take with us for the rest of our lives.
As one Jersey boy put it:
“It doesn’t matter where you are; it doesn’t matter where you go
If it’s a million miles away or just a mile up the road
Take it in, take it with you when you go
Who says you can’t go home.”
My kids are great sports. Every year, come December, they put up with my alter ego: Crazy Picture Lady. They suffer through clothing changes and get shuffled from place to place. Crazy Picture Lady only comes around once a year, but can stick around for as many as three or four days, depending on how tough it is to get a shot good enough to be deemed “The Christmas Card Photo.”
One year, I counted and took 281 pictures of my kids to get one useable photo for our family Christmas cards. (This year may have come close to that. Good thing I didn’t count!) Thank goodness for digital photography and the “continuous” option on my camera that just keeps the pictures snapping away while I hold down the button to try to get one shot of all three kids looking in the same direction with something resembling smiles on their faces.
As I shuffle through the hundreds of photos on my computer, trying to find the perfect one, I have a great time laughing at some of the rejects. One year, our baby girl’s Santa hat was completely covering her eyes, so all you could see was her little nose and mouth. In another, my younger son had a wide open mouth full of food for the world to see. In yet another, my oldest son was giving his brother bunny ears. I laugh as I see them looking at each other and laughing at their crazy mommy. So I saved a few of the rejects to share this year, just because they’re so much fun. In fact, a couple of the rejects are now on my computer desktop because they’re my new favorites. They actually show my kids’ true personalities. And they reflect the reality that is our family. Far from perfect, but much more fun.
Putting my album of rejects together made me think of all the misfit toys from my favorite Christmas show, the old-school Rankin-Bass production of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Those cute little misfits were the rejects of their lot, too. A train with square wheels, a Charlie-in-the-box, a bird fish, and a spotted elephant. All deemed too imperfect to be played with. But they’ve ended up as stars of the show now. Even Santa recognizes their value in the end.
The Christmas season is filled with so much magic and wonder, but so many of us make ourselves crazy trying to get everything perfect. We want our table to look “just so” for our guests, our house decked to perfection in every room, even our landscape twinkling with perfectly spaced lights on every tree or bush. Yes, it’s a magical time, but I think the misfits and rejects are what make it so magical.
Some of my favorite ornaments on my Christmas tree are old and faded and worn. There are threadbare hand-knit ornaments that my grandmother made for my parents’ tree, paint-chipped toy soldiers and snowmen that were gifts to me as a kid, and one little bear ball that my Nana had bought the year she passed away. I collect Christmas angels as my favorite decorations and my three favorite angels are each broken or worn in some way. But I take them out of their boxes every year and remember the time, place and person who gave them to me with warmth and fondness. If I could find brand new versions of the same favorite angels, I wouldn’t trade them for anything. It’s their imperfections that give them character. I suppose I have my own misfit choir of Christmas angels. But I love them.
So I thought I’d send out a misfit version of a Christmas wish for all of you. Instead of wishing that your holiday season be filled with perfection, I actually am wishing that you’re able to find the joy in all of the misfits and rejects you encounter. May your wreaths hang a little crooked, your cookies come out a little crumbly, and your Christmas card photos be crazy. I wish for you that all the imperfections of the season bring you nothing but joy and laughter and fodder for future Christmas stories worth retelling.
Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Happy New Year!
(First published by The Alternative Press.)
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