Aug 20 2012
So once upon a time when we lived in the Big Bad City where police helicopters were more plentiful than stars in the smoggy LA night sky, my ex told me about this magical place where children roam free and everyone knows everyone and it’s like Mayberry only in Hebrew and with shmarim instead of apple pie, and blah blah blah.
It’s called a kibbutz. And apparently it’s paradise for children. And dogs. (Because both like to run around and pee on lawns, etcetera.) Read the rest of this entry →
Jun 28 2012
Full disclosure: I’ve never been an Elmo fan. I didn’t especially like him when I first met him on my television screen–he seemed too relentlessly happy, too sure that I would care “what he’s thinking about today.” He made me think about throwing shoes at the television. My boys, of course, loved him. They watched Elmo constantly during the most harrowing time of my life–my year-long divorce. When I hear that red guy’s high cloying voice, to this day, it makes me shudder.
So I’ll admit that, in a weird way, I felt slightly vindicated when I found out Elmo was a recidivist racist. Okay, fine, it wasn’t the REAL Elmo. I mean, to the extent any Elmo is real, of course. Racist Elmo is not the one with the ™ symbol next to his name, the legitimate Elmo. No, racist Elmo is one of the illegitimate Elmos. New York has a bunch of Elmos (and other characters with sidewalk child appeal) who wander around tourist sites to pose for photos with kids and make some quick non-taxable cash. Read the rest of this entry →
May 15 2012
Looking back, I am quite sure that my great-Uncle Sid was a sexual predator.
In those days no one seems to have known what that was, and certainly no one talked about it. But even when we were very young, we knew he was not the guy you wanted to be with, especially if you were alone. When I was little, he bent down to kiss me and my sister and would stroke our non-existent breasts. When we got older, my father would hold us away from him, but he was still allowed to kiss us. What were people thinking?!
My dad was a good, involved father and yet it would not have occurred to him to confront the situation. He just protected us from inappropriate touching. And that was considered enough. Read the rest of this entry →
Jan 19 2012
A second grade teacher in our town has just been arrested for allegedly possessing and producing child pornography, among other charges. The evidence, as described in the press, is incredibly upsetting and appears to be quite damning.
We know this man. He went to elementary school, to Schechter no less, with my husband. They grew up together. I met him recently at a school reunion, and he was so kind, so funny, and so thoughtful that I even considered setting him up with one of my best friends. Read the rest of this entry →
Mar 22 2011
Note: This baby is not installed correctly.
I’m glad Jordana survived her childhood car accident, because there a many, many children who don’t.
I’ve heard it all before and it seems each generation is harder to convince than the next. Yes, I know you managed to endure a rustic childhood of riding in a wooden-paneled station wagon with the seat belts cut out and you turned out just fine but it’s pretty safe to say that your Mom wasn’t driving you to preschool at 70 miles per hour, guzzling Starbucks, and texting on her iPhone.
I’ve been a Child Passenger Safety technician for over six years now and having a child of my own has made me even more passionate about car seat safety and the new car seat recommendations. My husband likes to point out passersby on the freeway just to get my blood boiling, “Hey hun, check out that 8-year-old riding in the front seat next to us. Do you want to perform a citizen’s arrest?” You don’t know car passenger safety until it’s 90 degrees outside and you find yourself knee deep in a 2-door Dodge Neon with a hot EMS guy sorting through gum, papers and rotten popcorn shrimp trying to find enough seat belts to install three car seats across the back while mom talks on her cell phone and tries to keep her triplets from playing in traffic. True story, times 20.
I’ve seen seats strapped in with bungee cords or propped up with bricks. I’ve watched parents roll up in an Escalade with their toddler riding shot gun in a lap belt. Here’s a quick note: if you find yourself reaching for the duct tape, it’s probably time to spring for a new seat. Read the rest of this entry →