Better and worse

good kidSo far, there are things I miss about “back home” — not people, I miss everyone — but, things that give me little pangs of homesickness. But, then I find something that’s “better” than back home and I think, OK. We can do this.

People discipline their kids here. And, the kids listen. For example, at our pool, if a child is screaming too loudly, or splashing — their parents go “ssshh” or “OK, I warned you. Timeout time.” And, the kids actually respect that without question. It’s amazing to actually be able to enjoy the pool without earbuds up all the way. I literally almost fell out of my chair the first time I witnessed it. I leaned over to see what the kid’s reaction was going to be and when there was none — I lost my balance a bit. Back in NY, I’ve had many community pools where this simply did not happen. Kids ruled the pool and all adults there had to deal with their bad behavior. So, better.

A really good news site. I love the Chicago Tribune. It’s kind of like the TU. It has a great layout — it’s easy to navigate and all the info you want to know is right up front. But, I don’t live right in Chicago. So, for the suburbs, I have TribLocal or the Daily Herald. I got so excited when I saw the DH had blogs. Then, I clicked on it and found out they’re all about sports. ALL OF THEM. I even tweeted the DH to ask why they don’t have lifestyle blogs. I got crickets back. So, worse. Continue reading


Pop stars aren’t parents

I caught this article on HelloGiggles via Facebook last night, blasting Selena Gomez’s new song, “Come And Get It” — and it’s gotten me all sorts of annoyed. But that’s nothing new, since each time I read something that blames pop stars for being bad influences on young girls, I immediately cringe and roll my eyes. I mean, who’s the parent?images

It’s such an old, yawn-inducing cop out.

I can remember riding in the backseat of my friend’s parents’ car in 1991, when Color Me Badd’s “I Wanna Sex You Up” (you’re welcome — good luck getting it out of your head) came on the radio. I remember feeling torn, because it was a popular song and I wanted to sing along to it — but also embarrassed because my friend’s parents were present, and…well, the song repeated the word sex¬†over and over. I was 10 years old. I knew it was an adult thing, but I had no real feelings toward it, and I didn’t even know exactly what the song was implying. I think I thought by wanting to “sex the girl up”, he meant really wanted to dance provocatively with her at someone’s birthday party at Secrets.

I never listened to kid’s tapes in the car. We listened to the radio. And, whenever a sex-y song came on — from Paula Abdul to Janet Jackson to Madonna — my mom never once got all flustered and flew forward to shut it off and hide it from me. No. And, she certainly didn’t write a hipster blog post complaining about how women should basically be sexually ambiguous, never, ever talk or (gasp) sing about sex, and should just shut up and exist. Continue reading