Chris's folks are in from D.C. this weekend. It's always very nice to see them--pretty cool thing when you dig your in-laws. The girls are in Grandparent Paradise this summer: two weeks with Gramma in July, now hanging out with Papou and Yiayia. Makes you wonder how much spoiling kids can take. Anyway, John and Alice are of course here to see the family but one specific occasion that brings them out here is the annual Greek Festival, held at the Saints Helen and Constantine Greek Orthodox church in Cleveland Heights. It's quite the blowout. They've been to a number of Greek festivals over the years, what with John actually being from Greece and all. And they're pretty adamant that this one boasts the best food.
So last night we went, along with the girls' best buddy Lily from down the street and her mom Rachel. Rachel, being the game lass that she is, had a glass of retsina. I always warn people that it's an acquired taste, but she didn't hate it at all--though I'll say that the pine flavor on the bottle we had was pretty darn mild. (Side note: the linked article claims that the Greeks "pined up" their wine to protect it from the pillaging Romans--the version I heard substitutes marauding Turks.)
For those of you reading who are in the Cleveland Heights area who are looking for something to do this weekend, you should absolutely go. It's a great time. There are cooking and dancing demos, booths selling all kinds of stuff, a band, bounce-houses for the kids. But by far the main attraction is the food and it is fabulous. Last night we did the outside tent thing--meatballs, gyros, fried calamari, smelts, fries. Today we'll probably try to eat inside and sample more dinner-like fare. If you go, be sure to head inside the church and wander downstairs to hit my favorite spot, the pastry area: baklava, kataifi, koulourakia, and the girls' favorite are available in abundance.
One of the things I really like about this festival is how relatively well-organized it is. They enlist the help of the kids at Heights High to work alongside the church folks, and when you go you're likely to see smiling teens serving your food or clearing your table, sporting uniform tees: soccer, football, cheerleading, what have you. No getting around the fact that if you go and try to eat at peak times it's going to be pretty crowded and you're going to wait in line for a while, but given the very large number of people who attend every year it's really run very well. Be patient; it's worth the wait.
As we were wandering out of the building last night with our loukoumades, Rachel and I saw the spousal unit out in the middle of the dancing area with all three of the girls, channeling his inner Zorba. Very adorable--I wished I'd had the camera with me. Unfortunately, as we were waiting for the shuttle bus to leave, child #1 prevailed on him to hoist her over his head for a seat on his shoulders. Poor guy really strained something in his neck and he's not too mobile this morning as a result. So Zorba's probably going to be taking a rest when we go back today.
Anyway, we're all definitely enjoying our time this weekend hanging out with Papou and Yiayia. Looking forward to heading back today and getting our Greek on.
Saturday, August 21, 2010
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
On Diversity
Maureen Dowd--a columnist I frequently *don't* read despite her excellent writing, because in my opinion she's a glorified gossip--had a really good essay this morning. It was the second online piece I've read this week that got me started thinking about my college days and how things have definitely changed; the first one was this NPR blurb about the cost of college dorms, which had me reflecting with some amusement about the house where some friends of mine (hi, Mark and Ish!) lived. I seem to recall they patched holes in the wall using Crest, but I may be misremembering.
Anyway, I realize that we Old Fogies tend to think of today's youth as being coddled little hothouse flowers, and that our Old Fogie parents thought the same of us. And in fact, I know a number of people who went off to the same colleges as their high school friends and made arrangements to room with them at college. So this isn't entirely a new thing, of course. And there is something to be said for making sure in advance that if you're an asthmatic who has to work two jobs, you're not paired up with a chainsmoker who parties every night until 2 a.m.
Still, though, I have to agree with MoDo on this one. Being forced to mix it up with people you wouldn't choose on your own really is good for you. The girl who was my roommate my first three semesters of college is someone with whom I never in a million years would have been matched in any Facebook service. Me: Overly boisterous cheerleader from the middle of a wheatfield in Kansas, optimist, person whose study habits could best be described as Whatever Is Required To Get Your Assignments Done At The Last Minute. She: NYC-raised daughter of Korean immigrant parents, quiet, someone who I'm convinced studied 6 hours a day because she actually found it enjoyable. What's more, she had an extremely rough Freshman year. Her mother had committed suicide the previous spring, right before her high school graduation; shortly before Spring Break of our Freshman year, her father followed suit. But as unlikely a pair as we were, we got along very well. Well enough, in fact, to room together voluntarily for a semester the following year before she'd finally had enough of rowdy dorm life and transferred to different housing (and, eventually, to a campus closer to her home, which I think she needed). She wasn't my best friend at college, but we were definitely friends and we gained a lot from living together.
There's no question, I think, that I became a better person from being thrown into a cinderblock dormitory (a masterpiece of Neo-Stalinist architecture) and compelled to interact with a bunch of people from wildly diverse backgrounds--many of whom I would not necessarily have chosen as friends and roommates if left entirely to my own devices as an 18-year-old. Kids should have to spend at least a few years of their lives being forced to deal with people who are very unlike themselves, and who in fact sometimes are unpleasant and incompatible. I like to think that one of my better people skills is the ability to see things from perspectives other than my own, and the fact that while I certainly am opinionated I'm not especially judgmental. These are handy traits to have in general, and are actually pretty critical when one does criminal defense. Those traits were developed in part during my time at Oberlin.
And Dowd's point about a narcissistic and micro-targeted society in general is great. In fact, that's one of the things I'm convinced has completely ossified our political process. We as a population live in far more politically homogeneous communities than we did 20 or 30 years ago (full disclosure: this is very true of my own community, which is lovely and pretty uniformly liberal, and admittedly that's one of the things I like about it). I don't think that's entirely the reason that the past decade or so has seen the election of wild partisans who are less interested in getting anything accomplished than they are in base-pandering, but it has to be a contributing factor. Side note: One would think that it might occur to them that their chances of getting re-elected might improve if they, you know, actually accomplished stuff, but apparently not so much.
But in any event, all this does worry me a bit about when my girls go off to school. Will college be easier for them if they get to live with people whose backgrounds, study habits, housekeeping tendencies, and political/social viewpoints are exactly like theirs? Without question, just as it will be easier for them if their parents fork over for a dorm that has jacuzzis and a heated pool. So what? Whoever said it was supposed to be easy?
Anyway, I realize that we Old Fogies tend to think of today's youth as being coddled little hothouse flowers, and that our Old Fogie parents thought the same of us. And in fact, I know a number of people who went off to the same colleges as their high school friends and made arrangements to room with them at college. So this isn't entirely a new thing, of course. And there is something to be said for making sure in advance that if you're an asthmatic who has to work two jobs, you're not paired up with a chainsmoker who parties every night until 2 a.m.
Still, though, I have to agree with MoDo on this one. Being forced to mix it up with people you wouldn't choose on your own really is good for you. The girl who was my roommate my first three semesters of college is someone with whom I never in a million years would have been matched in any Facebook service. Me: Overly boisterous cheerleader from the middle of a wheatfield in Kansas, optimist, person whose study habits could best be described as Whatever Is Required To Get Your Assignments Done At The Last Minute. She: NYC-raised daughter of Korean immigrant parents, quiet, someone who I'm convinced studied 6 hours a day because she actually found it enjoyable. What's more, she had an extremely rough Freshman year. Her mother had committed suicide the previous spring, right before her high school graduation; shortly before Spring Break of our Freshman year, her father followed suit. But as unlikely a pair as we were, we got along very well. Well enough, in fact, to room together voluntarily for a semester the following year before she'd finally had enough of rowdy dorm life and transferred to different housing (and, eventually, to a campus closer to her home, which I think she needed). She wasn't my best friend at college, but we were definitely friends and we gained a lot from living together.
There's no question, I think, that I became a better person from being thrown into a cinderblock dormitory (a masterpiece of Neo-Stalinist architecture) and compelled to interact with a bunch of people from wildly diverse backgrounds--many of whom I would not necessarily have chosen as friends and roommates if left entirely to my own devices as an 18-year-old. Kids should have to spend at least a few years of their lives being forced to deal with people who are very unlike themselves, and who in fact sometimes are unpleasant and incompatible. I like to think that one of my better people skills is the ability to see things from perspectives other than my own, and the fact that while I certainly am opinionated I'm not especially judgmental. These are handy traits to have in general, and are actually pretty critical when one does criminal defense. Those traits were developed in part during my time at Oberlin.
And Dowd's point about a narcissistic and micro-targeted society in general is great. In fact, that's one of the things I'm convinced has completely ossified our political process. We as a population live in far more politically homogeneous communities than we did 20 or 30 years ago (full disclosure: this is very true of my own community, which is lovely and pretty uniformly liberal, and admittedly that's one of the things I like about it). I don't think that's entirely the reason that the past decade or so has seen the election of wild partisans who are less interested in getting anything accomplished than they are in base-pandering, but it has to be a contributing factor. Side note: One would think that it might occur to them that their chances of getting re-elected might improve if they, you know, actually accomplished stuff, but apparently not so much.
But in any event, all this does worry me a bit about when my girls go off to school. Will college be easier for them if they get to live with people whose backgrounds, study habits, housekeeping tendencies, and political/social viewpoints are exactly like theirs? Without question, just as it will be easier for them if their parents fork over for a dorm that has jacuzzis and a heated pool. So what? Whoever said it was supposed to be easy?
Sunday, August 8, 2010
The Most Wonderful Time...
So, I have very much enjoyed this summer. The girls had some great camps and I got a few good court results, plus of course I finally got to go on my honeymoon which was fantastic. All that said, I really like back to school time. The girls are of course not looking forward to homework, but I think they enjoy school also. Abra certainly does like the whole social aspect of it, and they're both good students who generally really like their teachers, at least so far. So this is helpful.
But one thing which is looming large is TIME. This is especially an issue with #1. God bless her, but she is the world champion dawdler. She is in a hurry to do exactly NOTHING, and has always been that way. She was an early talker (raise your hand if you're surprised), but with most of everything else she took her sweet time. Still does. The upside of this aspect of her personality is that she's generally pretty inflappable, and quite unlike her mother is not prone to the Big Freakout. She's pretty easygoing, and difficult to fluster or frustrate. This is all good.
Nonetheless, there are still certain things you have to learn to do and do ON TIME, and on your own. Over the summer, Dad and I have become frustrated by the fact that if you don't direct them to do their morning/evening chores, they won't do them. "Did you feed the fish?" "You didn't tell us to feed the fish!" "YOU HAVE TO FEED THE FISH EVERY &$!*ING NIGHT OF YOUR LIFE, WHY WOULD TONIGHT BE ANY DIFFERENT???" Grrr. I know that by the time we were the girls' age, and even before, my brother and I would get ourselves ready for bed and get into bed in a timely manner without being reminded, and we got ourselves up and ready for school without much nagging, either. So we've set up a Chore Chart. The idea is that the girls are supposed to pay attention to what time it is in the morning and after dinner, and are supposed to do their morning/evening tasks by a certain time. They earn checkmarks or X's based on performance, with negative consequences for X's and a weekly "Special Surprise!" for a full week of all checkmarks. Abra has yet to earn a Special Surprise, but we haven't been doing it very long (and had a couple weeks' haitus during vacation time). Back in the saddle again starting tomorrow. The hope is that by the time school starts in three weeks, they're doing things on their own. We'll see. Wish us luck.
But one thing which is looming large is TIME. This is especially an issue with #1. God bless her, but she is the world champion dawdler. She is in a hurry to do exactly NOTHING, and has always been that way. She was an early talker (raise your hand if you're surprised), but with most of everything else she took her sweet time. Still does. The upside of this aspect of her personality is that she's generally pretty inflappable, and quite unlike her mother is not prone to the Big Freakout. She's pretty easygoing, and difficult to fluster or frustrate. This is all good.
Nonetheless, there are still certain things you have to learn to do and do ON TIME, and on your own. Over the summer, Dad and I have become frustrated by the fact that if you don't direct them to do their morning/evening chores, they won't do them. "Did you feed the fish?" "You didn't tell us to feed the fish!" "YOU HAVE TO FEED THE FISH EVERY &$!*ING NIGHT OF YOUR LIFE, WHY WOULD TONIGHT BE ANY DIFFERENT???" Grrr. I know that by the time we were the girls' age, and even before, my brother and I would get ourselves ready for bed and get into bed in a timely manner without being reminded, and we got ourselves up and ready for school without much nagging, either. So we've set up a Chore Chart. The idea is that the girls are supposed to pay attention to what time it is in the morning and after dinner, and are supposed to do their morning/evening tasks by a certain time. They earn checkmarks or X's based on performance, with negative consequences for X's and a weekly "Special Surprise!" for a full week of all checkmarks. Abra has yet to earn a Special Surprise, but we haven't been doing it very long (and had a couple weeks' haitus during vacation time). Back in the saddle again starting tomorrow. The hope is that by the time school starts in three weeks, they're doing things on their own. We'll see. Wish us luck.
Helpful Instruction
So while we were back in Janesville last weekend, Abra visited her buddy since birth (almost literally--they were infants together at their day care), Abbey. Besides a sleepover they went to a friend's farm and played with the animals, where Abra received tutoring in the proper method of picking up a cat--something you'd think she'd know living with four of them.
So this morning, she was giving Thalia and Dad some pointers, using Pearl as her demo model.
"Step One. Gain their trust."
BWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Apparently there is no Step Two.
So this morning, she was giving Thalia and Dad some pointers, using Pearl as her demo model.
"Step One. Gain their trust."
BWWAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!
Apparently there is no Step Two.
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