One is Silver the Other Gold

Make new friends

But keep the old

One is silver and other gold

Anyone who was in the Brownies and/or Girl Scouts growing up like I was is probably familiar with this little tune. I’ve always been fond of it: it’s short, sweet and in its way very poignant. As a child I didn’t fully grasp the concept of friendships and their value the way I do as an adult.

My oldest son, who will start first grade this year, is starting to learn lots of big lessons about what it is to have, and to be, a true friend. As his parent, this is something that leads to moments of great pride and can at other times be very painful.

When he has a play date with a friend, it can be fun to watch the interaction and see the joy on his face.  But when he wants to engage in something with someone and gets rebuffed, it breaks my heart.

Our family recently took a trip out of town and for the most part, we really enjoyed ourselves. During the trip, there was a group of boys my son’s age who were playing and he wanted to join them. But instead of including him in the game, they made a game out of excluding him. They would lure him in as though they were going to let him play and then laughingly reject him. Thankfully, their game ended when I encouraged my son to simply say “no thanks” the next time they asked him to play with them.  Once he’d turned the tables on them and the kids no longer knew they could engage him, they lost interest in teasing him.

During this exchange I struggled with a range of emotions: from pure anger and a desire to discipline or yell at the boys (where were their parents?), to reminding myself to keep calm, knowing that I have to let my son make his own choices. I won’t be able to witness all of these encounters every day for the rest of his life after all. All I can do is try to prepare him to handle situations himself and give him different things to think about and different approaches he can take.

Truthfully, my son wasn’t nearly as phased by the encounter with the bullies as I was. After the incident, I reflected on my own childhood and tried to pinpoint when it was that I truly figured out what real friendship entailed, and realized that it wasn’t until I was in my early 20s.

I shared some advice with my son. He may be too young to understand it right now, but I hope he figures it out earlier than I did.

“A friend is someone who makes you feel good about yourself,” I told him.

He looked at my quizzically so I elaborated some more. “A true friend doesn’t ask you to do, be or act in a different way. They don’t like you for what you have or what you can give them. They like you for who you are. ”

The experience was a good reminder for me that true friendship doesn’t come with a price. It’s more valuable than anything money can buy and best of all, it’s free.

What is your child’s currency? What’s yours?

We implemented a reward system for our boys when my oldest son was around three. For every task or chore he completed, we would reward him with a sticker. When he had accumulated ten stickers he could turn them in for a reward: a small toy, game or book. Rewards like these work to a certain degree with both children, but I’ve realized over time that there are other things my children value beyond these prizes—like watching TV and playing Legos—and that allotting them extra time for these things could be just as effective as a reward. My husband and I work hard to teach our children not only skills like reading and math but manners, responsibility and accountability. We also want to teach them confidence in their ability to get what they want via hard work.

When I was growing up, I was given an allowance starting around age seven. It was modest to begin with (fifty cents a week) and then over time it increased. By the time I was in high school, I was getting twenty dollars a week and was required to complete all of my household chores to receive it. I was also expected to spend my allowance wisely. My family was on a budget so there wasn’t additional “fun” money given out if I blew my twenty dollars. My dad did also give us a clothing allowance of seventy-five a month which was for everything: socks, undergarments, shirts, shoes, accessories, etc. which meant that if we wanted one hundred fifty dollar jacket, we had better save up for it! It really gave me an appreciation for the concept of earning money and spending it wisely.  When I look back on those years, it wasn’t the money that served as the biggest motivator but rather the expectations of my parents. My parents set a high bar and I was forced to work hard to meet it. In the end, I really learned something about my own values and abilities and it gave me a tremendous sense of self-confidence.

With my children, I continue to ask myself if the reward system we’re using is working. Our children’s currency won’t always be stickers, TV, books or games (though some may stay in rotation for a long while). We’ll have to continue to understand what our children’s currency is and adjust accordingly. More importantly, we need to set the right expectations and be consistent—not always easy to do when we’re all so busy.

It got me thinking about what currency I use for rewarding myself as an adult. We look to different things as rewards as adults: a bigger paycheck, more time with our spouse or children, maybe just more time for ourselves. And often, (just like we learned to do as children) we feel best about these rewards when we feel we’ve done something to earn them.

Just as we have to understand what really motivates our children to be able to teach them responsibility and hard work, so do we need to understand what motivates us.

What are the rewards that really matter to you and what are you doing to get them? What is the cost (monetary, mental or emotional) for the things you want? How hard are you willing to work?

None of these are easy questions to answer, but they’re important ones. Know your child’s currency and better understand them; know your own currency and better understand yourself.

Living in the Present

During one of our recent date nights, my husband and I went to see the movie Safety Not Guaranteed. It’s about a group of journalists who answer a want ad in pursuit of a story. Writing the story becomes a journey in being honest with yourself and learning to be vulnerable to experiencing something you didn’t believe possible—true joy, adventure, love and um, time travel (you’ll need to see the movie to understand this part). Despite the surreal bits, the movie is mostly about living in the present instead of getting mired in the past or waiting on the future.

As parents, living in the past can be alluring as you find yourself romanticizing about the life you had pre-child, or reflecting on the many things that you’ve had to get done since.  It’s similarly easy to lose yourself in thinking about that future—what’s needed to give your child the best shot at a top notch university, or even just planning and being prepared for all the activities that are on the calendar for the upcoming week. Each takes concentration, and can being a range of emotions from excitement to sheer terror.  Regardless of which direction you’re going–whether you’re thinking about the past or planning for the future–doing so takes your mind away from the present. But is living in the present really so dull that we need the distraction?

Our oldest son graduated from kindergarten in June and there was a picnic for the two kindergarten classes at his school to celebrate the occasion. At the picnic they had a ceremony of sorts, where each child was called by name and crossed through a decorated hula-hoop that was turned on its side.  It was very informal and the kids thought it was fun to stand up and have people clap for them.  It struck me during the picnic how glad I was to be experiencing what I was experiencing right in that moment. I wasn’t thinking about all the activities that had led up to this day in recent weeks or what would come next. I just took it all in and it was pure joy.

I understand that my children will be grown and off on their own before I know it. Time seems to go faster with each passing year so I’m trying my best to experience the present as it happens, to not focus on what happened yesterday or what’s going to happen tomorrow but what’s happening right now, today.

How do you live in the present?

Your Olympic Moment

The London Olympics have gotten me thinking about defining moments. Those events or occasions that build your confidence in what you’re capable of and made you see yourself differently.

For me, such a moment happened when I was nine years old and swam on a neighborhood swim team. I was a mediocre swimmer when I joined the team, but I steadily improved with hard work and practice to become one of the stronger freestyle swimmers in my age group. I loved swimming freestyle and often participated in both the individual events and the relay races.

My brush with glory came during one of the most important meets of the year. There were different divisions for the kids’ swim teams: named red, white and blue respectively. My team was in the white division and working to move ourselves up to the red. Every meet counted and we needed to win a majority of our meets if we were going to move up. I was signed up to swim in several freestyle events and slated to be the anchor for the 4 x 100 medley relay. The score of the meet was very close with only a few events left to go as the all-important medley race approached; the pressure on my teammates and me to pull out a victory was building.

When the gun went off and the butterfly swimmers took to the water, we knew we had some stiff competition. I also noticed during the race that some of the other team members were jumping off the blocks into the water before the swimmer before them had touched the wall. My parents were sticklers for playing by the rules and instilled in me that cheating never paid off—that you couldn’t feel good about your accomplishment if you cut corners because you wouldn’t know if you’d really earned it. While I was a little concerned about what I was seeing from the other team, I had confidence in my swimming abilities and believed that we could still win playing by the rules.

The anchor on the other team was off the block a few seconds before I was, once again before the previous swimmer was all the way into the wall. I made sure our swimmer touched and as soon as she did, I launched off the block. The other swimmer had a couple of strokes on me and I knew I had to make up the time so I decided I wouldn’t take any breaths. I swam harder and harder. At first, I was lagging behind and I momentarily panicked before realizing that I was gaining on her. I was motivated to win since I knew we’d been following the rules and I wasn’t about to let my team down. I was hoping I could get a couple of arm lengths ahead of my competitor, but I couldn’t. We swam the last few strokes neck and neck. I hit the wall with my hand and got out of the water. I stood there for a minute unsure who had won the race. I was confident I could do it, but was also preparing myself for the reality that I might not have quite pulled it off. The lane judges conversed and finally one of them came over to me smiling. She said, “You won. You beat her by 1/10th of a second.” She leaned over and showed me her stopwatch. I was overjoyed we’d played fair and won the big meet. For how excited I was, I may as well have just won an Olympic gold.

My fellow relay team members were with the rest of the team and their families awaiting the results. As the news that we’d won sunk in, I turned and smiled and ran towards my father. The team erupted in cheer once they saw my expression.  When I got to my dad he picked me up and tossed me in the air. He told me that he’d seen I’d swam a fair race and was proud of me for competing with integrity and for giving it my all and not giving up.

As a parent, I reflect on what I learned that day about myself and can’t wait for my children to have their own defining moments in sports and in life. I look forward to watching the incredible athletes of the 2012 games and talking to my children about the importance of hard work and competing with integrity,

What was your defining moment?

When I Get Older What Will I Be?


When I was just a little girl

I asked my mother “What will I be?”

“Will I be pretty?”

“Will I be rich?”

Here’s what she said to me

Que Sera Sera

Whatever will be will be

The future’s not ours to see

Que Sera Sera

 I loved the song Que Sera Sera the first time I heard it, and still do today. It was the melody I really enjoyed when I was younger but I didn’t put much thought into the lyrics.

My oldest son asked me a very simple but poignant question the other day on the car ride home that brought this song to mind. “Mom,” he asked, apropos of nothing, “what will I be like when I’m an adult?” I have no idea why this question popped into his mind when it did, we’d just finished talking about some of the fun things we’d each done during the day. But such is the way with children’s minds.

I turned the question back on him: “Well,” I asked him, “what makes you who you are today?” He struggled to answer the question so I offered up some of my own observations. “You are curious and like to learn about new things, right?” “Yes,” he said. “And you like to have adventures, right?” “Yes,” he said again. “And you like to play with your friends and have fun, right?” “Yes,” he agreed once more. “Well, I think you’ll probably have those same qualities when you grow up,” I said. “You may learn things, have adventures and interact with your friends in a different way, but you’ll probably do all the things you do now.” I continued, “You have your whole life to figure out what you want to be, and Mom and Dad will help you along the way.” That seemed to be enough for him. He smiled to himself and looked back out the car window.

I love that my son is starting to discover who he is and what he likes and think about what that all may mean for the future. I love that he feels more knowledgeable and empowered to figure out what makes him happy. I’m aware that he is likely at some point to want to experience things I might not be comfortable with, or would prefer he avoid. He will eventually turn into a teenage boy after all. I’m mentally preparing myself for how I’ll be able to support him during those times but for now we’re just basking in the beginning of our adventure.

After all we never do know what the future brings. Que Sera Sera.

A Bug’s Life

My youngest son’s class made a Bug Exhibit for the children’s parents to come and see last week. My goodness I was impressed! There was a painted paper mache balloon beehive complete with bees and a ladybug on a grassy field, grasshoppers in droves, and butterflies fluttering all around. The children used recycled goods like plastic cups, and cardboard boxes to help make their creations.

The class was having circle time, sitting around the teacher reading a book together, when I came to pick up my son and it gave me an opportunity to look at the exhibit more closely. I interrupted the circle time to tell the kids what a great job they had all done. They were quick to innumerate to me their individual contributions and show me residual paint that still needed to be washed from their hands.

What struck me most was how proud they all looked and how confident they were in what they had put together. They had worked together as a class to make a darn good Bug Exhibit and they knew it! It was inspiring to see four and five years olds feel that good.

It reminded me of a documentary that I’d seen a while back called I Am. The film talks about how species on earth that are far more ancient than humans abandoned the idea of placing a high value on competition long ago. In fact, competition and the need for individual achievement have no place amongst these more evolved beings. In order for the species to survive, they have to work together, for example ants building and foraging for the good of the colony not the individual ant.

Oh course, human beings are naturally competitive. But what if we weren’t? Would that really be all bad?

I fell in some small way that I witnessed what humans can accomplish when they work together at my son’s Bug Exhibit. No one was competing. No one even thought there might be a competition. They simply worked together to put the best Bug Exhibit they could, and they succeeded.

It’s a lesson I think we all can learn from.

It’s a Lego-Lego World

How many parents out there have Lego fanatics in their family?  I tell you with great conviction we have two in our house in my boys.

I went on a trip that took me out of town a few months back and picked up two Lego Minifigure packs at the store for my boys. For anyone unfamiliar, the packages contain Lego Minifigures: tiny people equipped with various outfits and accessories. These are sold in packages that don’t reveal which character is inside so you don’t know if you are buying a new figure or one your child already has.  It’s children’s marketing at its best—once your child has one, they will want them ALL. As a parent, you will try to blindly feel your way to all the Lego Minifigures your child desires. Thankfully the packages are relatively inexpensive and my boys get great joy from them.

There are a number of reasons that Legos make the perfect toys for children:

  • They have changed immensely since I was a child and yet are still a classic
  • They capture my children’s attention for long periods of time
  • They reveal your child’s building capacity
  • They reveal your child’s creative capacity
  • They reveal your child’s willingness to look for a very tiny and very unique piece that is needed to complete a project

I used to believe (this stems from my own childhood I’m sure) that Legos were for boys, an activity fathers and sons.  Not true nowadays.  We stumbled upon a great Lego game called Creationary a few weeks ago and decided to invest in it. The game has you roll a die to select a category, choose a card within that category and then build whatever is on the card. My husband and oldest son are both really good at this game. I’m not as good. They often struggle to guess what I’ve built. “Mom, is that a spaceship?” my son asks. “No, it’s supposed to be a tree,” I say. You get the idea.  Win or lose, the game allows us to sit down as a family and have some fun, uninterrupted time together—which is much appreciated in our fast-paced lives.

I’m thankful that Legos are something my whole family can enjoy together; we’re better for it!

Rare and Valuable

The most valuable baseball card is the 1909 Honus Wagner, 2B Pittsburgh Pirates which recently sold for $2,800,000. The Kohinoor is believed to be the most expensive diamond worth by some potentially hundreds of millions of dollars. These items are considered rare and valuable. But are they the most rare and valuable things in the world?

I was recently in the grocery store perusing the card section in search of Father’s Day cards. First I focused on finding cards for my boys to give to my husband and their grandfathers. Then I focused on finding one for my own Dad from me. The range of cards was striking to me. There were humorous cards, heartfelt cards, straightforward and simple cards. A majority of Father’s Day cards revolved around a dad’s love of beer, golf, watching TV, yard work and struggle to control bodily functions. What struck me about this was how old-fashioned these card themes all sounded. The cards made it sound like dads sit on the sidelines of raising their child, and play the role of provider, yardman, and guy that has many valid excuses to check-out and not need to pay attention to the kids (e.g. they worked so hard and did so much yard work, they need to watch golf, and drink to recuperate and can’t control their body functions as a result). Sounds very 1960s or 1970s to me. Haven’t most dads evolved as parents?

My dad worked a lot and played the role of provider and yardman when we were kids. It was much more accepted and expected back then. He did make a point to spend time with my sisters and I. He made sure we always knew we were important to him, more important than his work and anything else he might have to get done. As we grew, Dad found more ways to spend meaningful time with us. Dad played golf, but did so with me, because I joined the school golf team. Dad was a runner, and when one of us took an interest, we would run together. Dad loved watching college sports, but preferred to watch games with my mom, and us girls. Aside from some of the stereotypical things, Dad was unique to us. He taught us to be independent, helped us on science projects and our math, coached us off-the-field in golf, softball and other sports, he was there for all of our important events including games, performances and milestone occasions. I thought everyone had a dad like mine.

As I grew older, I realized my dad shared similarities to many dads, but was different in many ways too. I have to admit, it was hard to find a man that I felt would be as good a father to our children as my dad was to us. I did find him though. My husband is a more evolved parent. He works a lot, and does yard work, but it’s because he enjoys doing these things. He’s been very engaged from the beginning, changing diapers, feeding our boys, burping them, and is comfortable taking care of the kids without me around. He makes time for his sons and enjoys spending time with them: watching seaplanes take off and land, building Lego sets together, and helping them as they learn new things. He realizes he has limited time with them before our sons will be grown and out on their own. I realize my husband shares similarities with many dads, but is different in many ways too.

To our family, Dad and Grandpa are rare and valuable, much more so than a one-of-a-kind diamond or baseball card.

To my father, my husband, and those fathers that put their family first and continue to change the way we look at fatherhood, thank you.

Happy Father’s Day.

The Case for the 16 oz. Soda

Have you heard all the fuss? Mayor Bloomberg of New York City plans to limit the cup size of soda served to a customer to 16 oz. This is getting people all up in arms with arguments from this will impede on their personal freedoms, it’s Big Brother-like, or stating the obvious, this won’t solve the larger problem—please refer back to previous blog that focused on the HBO documentary The Weight of the Nation.  In truth, while the cup size might be changed, a customer could get multiple servings and unlimited refills, if desired. So if you are really, really thirsty, you can get all the soda you want!

As a parent, I appreciate the Mayor putting this out there for discussion. I’m disappointed it’s getting so much negative feedback, particularly when we can see so many people, children in particular, at increased weights. This isn’t about the negative stigma we still associate with being “fat.” This is about helping consumers, including our children, who are relying on adults to guide them, to make healthier (I’ll even suggest better) choices.

When I was a kid, we would go to McDonald’s on occasion to eat. My husband and I were reflecting on cup sizes back then. A small was indeed, small. Medium was indeed, medium. Large was indeed, you can see where this is going, large.  In fact, I can recall my two sisters and I would get one large root beer drink to share between the three of us on road trips—three of us shared one large drink.  Seems unimaginable now.

Politicians are taking stands ranging from “…this is a good way to help educate people on making better food choices” to “don’t we have bigger issues to focus on?”  The last part kills me. Are there bigger issues, really? Were they even aware of their words? Shouldn’t our country’s citizens including our children’s health, be a top priority? We have these debates about healthcare in our country, and who should pay, but aren’t willing to discuss some potential steps, like limiting the size of soda served, in helping address the problem?

My children don’t drink soda, but I know one day they will. I am for returning to the smaller serving sizes of soda if it helps my children, their peers and our country take a step towards being a little more knowledgeable and a little healthier. I’m thankful for this recent study that shows sensible ways for parents to cut their child’s soda intake. I’m all for anyone who cares about my health and my families from researchers, doctors to Mayor Bloomberg.

Weighty Issues

My passion for learning new things has always given me a yen for documentary films. I’ve found several captivating documentaries over the years on HBO and I discovered another this past week when I watched The Weight of the Nation. This much-buzzed-about documentary focuses on the reality of weight in our nation, what has caused the obesity epidemic and what that can be done to combat it. The film shared tremendous insight into the disastrous lifestyle changes the U.S. has undergone over the past few decades, adopting an ever more sedentary lifestyle and a diet that has become ever more abundant, processed and heavily marketed.

This film spoke to me on many levels: as a woman who has battled with her own weight and as a parent. I’ve struggled with maintaining a steady weight since childhood so I’m always looking for perpecitve on all that I have tied up in the issue. Eating is a complex thing. We need to do it for energy, but it goes way beyond mere sustenance as we also eat for pleasure, comfort or just out of boredom.  As a child, it’s difficult, if not impossible, to understand this complexity. For many years I would beat myself up and think what’s wrong with me, why can’t I beat this? I would constantly tell myself what I could and couldn’t eat and if I ate something I wasn’t supposed to, I would mentally rake myself over the coals thinking where’s your self control? you’re an embarrassment, etc.

Thankfully as an adult a nutritionist finally challenged me on the benefit of beating myself up. “Does beating yourself up over this yield any positive results?” she asked,  “Are you losing weight as a result or feeling any better about yourself afterwards?” The answer of course was “no.” Anyone who has struggled with their weight is probably accustomed to this guilt trip but the truth is, if beating yourself worked, we’d all be thin.

Like any parent reflecting on something that’s brought her misery, I don’t want my children to go through what I went through. My husband has been naturally thin his entire life and I’ve prayed many nights that my children will inherit his metabolism (which they seem to have done thus far). My husband and I try hard to be conscientious about eating healthy food and we do a pretty good job for ourselves but there is room for improvement with the kids, a fact that hit home after watching the documentary. I sat there the next morning watching my children eat their breakfast—mini pancakes, toaster waffles and cereal—and wondering if I was doing right by them. We’ve certainly set our kids up with some good habits, we talk to our children about getting vitamins and minerals and we never have them clean their plates the way I was told to as a child; they’re only required to make a good dent in their fruits and vegetables. They also drink far less juice than they used to, we split juice intake to 50% water, 50% juice both to promote healthy teeth and to avoid excess calories.

But alas, we’re not perfect. The challenges we face in feeding our children are common and myriad. Frankly getting the kids to eat anything can be a challenge (instead of their food palate expanding it appears to be contracting). They’re more likely to eat fish sticks, chicken nuggets, popcorn shrimp or mac n’ cheese than whatever lean protein my husband and I are having.  Vegetables are our one non-negotiable, they can have input into which vegetable they prefer—peas, carrots, sweet potatoes, broccoli—but they have to have something.  Snacks are a bit easier—it’s simple enough to give them an apple of banana– but there are plenty of pitfalls here too, like the “gummy” snacks from the store that aren’t labeled as candy, but may as well be. Our youngest son goes to a daycare that is near a great bakery and we go there once a week to let the kids buy treats. They enjoy it, but is it an innocent treat, or am I reinforcing a behavior of making unhealthy choices?

As a parent there are so many questions that we face every day: are our children getting the love and attention they need from us, are their basic needs being met, are we teaching them the right things, are we preparing them for the future? The question of what we feed them hits on all of these issues. I already understood that on some subconscious level, but watching such a powerful expose brought it to the forefront of my mind.

I am definitely rethinking what my husband and I feed our children and it’s clear we need to make some changes. Nothing radical, but we’re going to work to be more mindful of what we’re feeding the kids and why. Are we feeding them what they need, or just feeding them what they want? The point isn’t to beat ourselves up over it, as I said, we know that doesn’t work. I see this as an opportunity for us to reflect, recalibrate and feel more in control about the decisions we make about food for our children and for ourselves.

It’s heavy to think about, isn’t it?