A look back and a look ahead

This weekend, Milwaukee will revel in its 25th annual PrideFest celebration. TCD takes a look at PrideFest's history, and what's in store for this year.

Brandi Carlile’s intimate performance lights up Turner Hall

Tuesday night, Brandi Carlile lifted up the audience with an intimate solo acoustic performance at sold out Turner Hall, full of stories and sing-alongs.

Milwaukee LGBT Film and Video Festival

Critically acclaimed film "Weekend" kicks off four days and sixteen films at the 24th annual MIlwaukee LGBT Film and Video Festival at UWM.

Toshi Reagon

It was the neo-soul singer's first trip to Milwaukee, but she swears she'll be back.

NEW Global Issues column debuts this month!

One World, by former Slightly Crunchy Parent columnist Lucky Tomaszek, takes a look at global issues through a local lens and focuses on living in the world with as little damanging impact as possible and facing the challenges our families and communities face environmentally, economically and ethically. Check it out this month, let us know what you think and come back to this blog often for updates, information and resources for living consciously on our planet. -ed. BPA – you’re soaking in it About ten years ago, I started hearing quiet murmurs about Teflon pots and pans, Styrofoam cups, plastic dishes and disposable flatware. They were just rumors, really. Things mentioned quietly, in passing. At first I ignored it. Then I started asking a few questions. None of the people doing the whispering really seemed to know a lot about it – they had all just heard similar rumors and were passing it on. Finally, I got a short summary. There were a few theories being tossed around about the safety of consuming hot foods and beverages using any of these kitchen supplies. Maybe it wasn’t as safe as it seemed. A little online digging (in the very early days of the internet – pre-Google!) afforded me more parts of the rumors. The potential danger stemmed from the possibility that certain chemicals might be leached from the plastic by heat and absorbed by the macaroni and cheese or hot chai that was about to be ingested. This concept rocked my whole world. If this theory was true, there were so many things I had been doing for years that could be dangerous. It didn’t seem possible to me – everyone I knew used Teflon and plastic spoons and Styrofoam cups. No one seemed to be suffering any ill effects. There were no cases of cancer, no ongoing or mysterious illnesses. I tried to dismiss it. But the rumors persisted and I started noticing things. Like, how some of my plastic cups changed colors when I put hot cider in them, or how you could burn a hole clean through the layer of plastic wrap by overheating it in the microwave. I watched my food bubble up through those holes and realized it was entirely possible that whatever was in the plastic could be in my food. And though I didn’t know any of the science behind it, I knew that humans shouldn’t be eating plastic. Slowly, we started changing the way we did things around the house. No more foam dishes, very little plastic flatware. Hot food was served on regular old dishes, always. I ditched the coated pans, upgraded for cast iron one piece at a time. For the most part I did these things quietly. The whole concept was still so new, and I was well aware that it could all turn out to be a wave of hysteria that would be laughed at a decade later. At the same time, I wasn’t willing to risk it. So, […]

I’ll be seeing you …

In the beginning When I started writing the Slightly Crunchy Parent in March 2003, I was full of things to say about the choices I had made as a parent. I spent hours and hours researching all of the decisions I made for our family. It is such a large responsibility – I don’t think a person can fully comprehend the pressure and the desire to “do it right” unless they’ve raised kids. We all know what happens to children when parenting goes wrong: years of therapy and unfulfilling adult relationships and neuroses and medications and maybe even jail time. Okay, maybe it’s not that bad. But it feels like it when you’re the mom. When I was offered the opportunity to write a column I jumped at it. I had done a lot of writing before I had kids, but it slowed down a lot while I carried babies and chased toddlers. Every month, I loved sitting down to vent some of that pent-up creativity. The Slightly Crunchy Parent (or Crunchy P, as we call it in-house) has been a fabulous outlet for the last five-and-a-half years. During that time, I have talked about some of my best and worst experiences as a mother. More than once, I have found myself crying as I write, re-experiencing some difficulty or triumph. It has also happened that I open the pages of VITAL Source and can hardly remember what I have written. So many times I am in the zone, writing things that were secrets until my fingers hit the keys. Then and now Lena is 13; in 2003 she was seven. As a home-schooled second grader, she was right on the cusp of reading and she could whoop some serious backside at pretzel poker. She was a bossy, sassy, sweet master strategist who liked to be glued to my side. She was simultaneously very proud of and very annoyed by her younger siblings and cousins. Her desire to mother and control them was so strong – I felt like I was constantly saying, “Lena, you are NOT the parent!” Lena has been trying to grow up fast since the day she was born. Looking at her now, it seems like she has gotten her wish. Though she was my fattest baby, she is now a slender young woman with a core of self-confidence that’s hard to rattle. While she still likes to be the boss (very much!), she typically channels it into helping out with her brother and sister and babysitting a lot. For the most part, she has refined her sass into something far more palatable in our family: irreverence. At 13, she obviously still has some pretty mouthy moments (and what is up with the eye rolling?), but we work through it. In March 2003, Emma was approaching her fourth birthday. That girl has always walked to the beat of her own drum. In manner and nature, she is completely different from her siblings. Emma was already working […]

The Fifth Grade Blues

By Lucky Tomaszek Emma came to me last week with yet another form to sign. This one was a re-do slip from her teacher. She held up her spelling practice sheet for me to see. “I spelled ‘radiant’ wrong on my practice sheet. Forgot the ‘t’ on the end. So, I wrote it out ten times here like I’m supposed to and you need to sign this paper.” As expected, the paper was verification that my daughter had shown me the mistake and the correction. However, the wording was upsetting to me. It said, “My child has shown me both the unacceptable work and the corrections.” Unacceptable? Really? A simple spelling mistake on a practice sheet is now unacceptable? We no longer allow elementary school students to make mistakes? I make no secret about how much I love my kids’ elementary school. The facilities are well-maintained. The support staff is caring and informed. The art program teaches kids how to utilize as many mediums as possible. The physical education classes are structured to teach skill and emphasize teamwork over competition. There is a definite sense of community that spans from four-year-olds in junior kindergarten up through the fifth graders. When I hear of children in southeastern Wisconsin going to schools where all of the “specials” have been cut, and even recess time is limited, my heart breaks for them. But with funding down, the economy failing and No Child Left Behind forcing educators to “teach to the test,” this is a reality for a growing number of kids. I can’t imagine not having our school as a choice for my children’s education. All of that said, there is one place where I feel our school could use some serious revision to the current methods being used in the classroom. The fifth grade teachers, in an effort to prepare the kids for middle school, come down very hard on their 10 and 11 year-old students. In the opinion of many parents of fifth graders (myself included), harder than necessary. I went through the fifth grade program three years ago with Lena. I remember many, many nights where she sat in front of her homework for two or three hours, diligently working through page after page of assignments. The curriculum in our school calls for approximately 10 minutes per grade of homework each night, meaning second graders should spend about 20 minutes, third graders should spend about 30 minutes, and so on. When I asked her teacher about the heavy work load (heavy – her back pack regularly weighed more than 20 pounds!), she couldn’t believe the work she was assigning could possibly take that long. I mean, she literally didn’t believe me. My middle girl, Emma, entered fifth grade this fall. She started our school in first grade and has loved all of her teachers and most of her classmates. She’s a good student – does her homework, raises her hand in class, doesn’t interrupt her teacher. Art is her favorite […]

Let’s talk about (child) sex (uality)

My oldest daughter turned 13 this summer, and she looks very much like she’ll look until she enters college. She may get a little taller and her figure a little fuller, but her features are all there now. Not one trace of baby roundness touches her anywhere. Lena is a beautiful young woman who turns the heads of young men everywhere she goes. I see her watch herself in the mirror frequently, and remember doing the same thing at her age. She smiles, frowns, flips her bangs up and back down again. Turns to the side, looks at her tan lines from the summer. Stands on tiptoe to see if the back pockets of her jeans look good. Turns back around to make sure she’s just right before leaving the bedroom for the morning. She is blooming – it is apparent in everything she does. Clearly, she’s feeling the hormonal shift of the early teen years and trying to find her place in a world that suddenly seems supercharged with sexual energy. Many adults believe that this is the beginning of sexuality in children – the early teen years when suddenly boys have leg hair and girls have breasts. But that’s simply not true. Human beings are sexual creatures from the beginning of their lives. It’s just that this is the first time their sexuality is immediately visible to the outside world. Birds do it, bees do it… I know that it makes some adults uncomfortable to acknowledge that young children, even infants, are already sexual (though certainly not ready to be sexually active for a very long time). But it makes sense, biologically speaking. Though humans have socially, economically and intellectually evolved to a place where baby-making isn’t the primary goal for many, it is our most basic biologic function. Like every creature on earth, we were put here to propagate. That’s why it feels good to touch and be touched. Just ask any fivemonth-old baby who manages to grab at his or her genitals during a diaper change. This isn’t an early perversion showing itself. It just feels good. Babies in utero are seen touching themselves frequently during ultrasounds. The drive to reproduce is deep in every race, including ours. Toddlers, preschoolers, kindergartners and grade schoolers are all, to some degree, exploring their own physical selves, and sometimes the physical self of someone else, too. (“Wanna play doctor?”) This discovery process is normal and healthy. It gives our children the ability to claim their bodies for themselves, so that later, when it’s time to share with someone else, they feel a sense of ownership and therefore the right to say “No” when they don’t want to be physical. House rules So, what’s a parent’s part in this process, aside from being the dismayed mother or father who really can’t have Jimmy playing with himself in the living room during a dinner party? It’s tough. I have tried hard to give my children a sense of positive sexuality without […]

Good for baby, good for the Earth

Everyone who knows me is well aware of my fervent and ongoing lactivism. I have written about the supremacy of breastfeeding every August for the last five years. It might seem like I would eventually run out of fresh material, but it simply can’t happen. The subject is so broad, so deep and so full of political and cultural implications that it’s a bottomless well of topics. This year seems like a good time to talk about breastfeeding and the environment. For decades, breastfeeding advocates, lactation consultants and La Leche League leaders have been saying “Breastfeeding is good for the environment.” It’s on almost every “top 10 reasons to breastfeed” list I’ve ever seen. First, there is no discernible negative environmental impact from breastfeeding. It’s an almost perfect system with no by-products to dispose of, no waste, and very few resources used. This can’t be said of feeding artificial baby milk (ABM) from a bottle. Pollution The most obvious effect of ABM feeding on the planet is massive pollution. Our landfills are clogged with empty formula cans, baby bottles and lids, rubber nipples and nipple rings. In this country, there are four million live births per year. About forty percent of our babies are never breastfed. One study estimates that babies fed from a bottle use an average of 12 bottles during their first year. This means that on average, the U.S. consumes and disposes of nearly 20 million baby bottles per year. Each ABM-fed baby needs about two cans of powdered formula per week, for a total of over 167 million cans per year. Just in the United States. That’s a lot of garbage. But pollution is more than throwing out our used-up stuff. ABM manufacture creates a lot of industrial pollution. Water is polluted with sewage from dairy cows, fertilizers used to grow cattle feed and through the dumping of waste at the manufacturing site. Air is polluted, as the production of ABM requires the milk and additives to be heated and cooled several times. Natural resources Those 20 million baby bottles I mentioned are mostly made of plastic, a petroleum product. And as we know, petroleum is a limited resource. Most bottles are not recyclable, which means once we’ve produced the bottle, that petroleum is out of the cycle. Baby bottle nipples are often made from silicon, also not recyclable. Disposable liners require the user to consume even more plastic, as the liners aren’t reusable at all. Even more petroleum is used as tanker fuel and gasoline. Most of the milk comes to us from third world countries. Once harvested from the cows, it is put on boats and shipped to the U.S. From there, it is trucked to various outlets for sale. Very, very often, it gets shipped back to the third world countries it came from originally. Then there’s paper. Each year in the U.S., 600 tons of paper is used just to make the labels on the cans of ABM, and it’s estimated that […]

Stars and Stripes Forever

My kids are growing up, and as they get older, I believe it’s increasingly important to educate them about their duties as citizens. I worry about the ignorance of Americans of their own history, from the framing of the Constitution to why we go to war with other nations. In anticipation of Independence Day, I sat down with my kids to see what they already knew and what was left to teach. I taped it all and some of it is below. As always, they amazed me with their honesty and their interest in the world around them. Try it with your own kids soon. You’ll probably be amazed, too. ON FLAGS: LENA: You have to stand up for the color guard. ME: Why? L: You have to honor them, the soldiers that fought for us. EMMA: They already honored us by fighting, and we have to honor them back. It’s a circle. ME: What else do you know about honoring the flag? L: It can’t ever touch the ground! ME: Right. It’s considered disrespectful. L: When Grandpa Allen died, they had a flag over his coffin. E: Then they folded up and gave it to Grandma Margaret. ME: What else do you know about flags? L: Ooh! I know! If it’s raining out, you take it down. E: And you take it down at night. JEFFREY: Why at night does it have to come down? L: So no one steals it! ME: No. Flag etiquette says it should only fly during daylight. So, do you guys know what happens when someone important dies? ALL KIDS: -blank stares- ME: They fly the flag at half-mast. That means only part-way up the flag pole. It’s a sign of respect for the person who died. L: If I was important and I died, I would want the flag to fly way up there for me! I would want a second flagpole stacked on top and then someone to sit up there and keep that flag safe! VOTING: J: I like going with you to vote. ME: Why? J: You like to vote. And I like it when you’re happy. E: I like going with you because it’s pretty amazing to see all of the people who just come to our school to vote. It makes me feel so proud to see everyone out voting. CIVIL DISOBEDIENCE: L: What’s it called when people are upset with the government and they show up in a group so the government knows? E: Protesting. ME: Yep. Sometimes it’s called demonstrating or marching. L: We don’t always march. You could hold a big sign that says what you believe, or make up a chant and chant it really loud. ME: That’s your responsibility as a citizen of this country. You need to tell the government in peaceful ways when you don’t agree with them. People don’t have this right in every country. THE PLEDGE OF ALLEGIANCE: ME: When you started fourth grade, you wanted to know what […]

Dancing Queens

The Tuckers and the Tomaszeks have decided to learn the Cotton Eyed Joe before July 4th. We started today, dancing and laughing our tails off in the living room. To be clear, we are not good dancers. We might be weaker dancers than we are singers – and for anyone who has heard the tribe belt out Buttercup, you know that’s saying something. But we’re learning it anyway, because we think it will be a hoot to do at the annual Fourth of July cookout. If anyone wants to come practice with us, you’re welcome to do so. I promise you’ll have a good time.

Every day’s a holiday

One Friday in the middle of May, my children woke themselves early and were in the kitchen, dressed and ready for breakfast, by 6:30. As I poured my coffee, delighted that we were more than a half an hour ahead of schedule, my youngest ran at me. He grabbed me tight around the middle and shouted, “Happy High Interest Day, Mama!” My middle daughter joined in the hug. “Happy High Interest Day, everybody!” The chatter at the table was light and fun and when it was time to leave for school, the kids raced to the car. The thrill in the air that day was due in equal part to two things. The first is obvious: my children love high interest day at their school. The idea of a whole day free to learn new sports, crafts and skills turns them on intellectually; they look forward to high interest day all year. The second may be less evident: we love holidays at our house, and are always looking for a way to have more of them. Holidays can be useful. No, really, they can! I have to admit, I’ve passed my preference for low-impact celebrations to the kids. Fourth of July and Halloween are our family favorites. Watching parades, cooking out, planning costumes and trick-or-treating have become tribe traditions, and the kids rely on knowing that the outline of these days is going to remain basically the same. As a matter of fact, we have built tribe traditions to celebrate almost every major holiday. These events give structure and a sense of ritual to the year, as they do for families all over the world. But created holidays are more spontaneous and just as joyful. They can also brighten almost any situation. Last winter a friend of ours decided to drive in from out of town for dinner and board games. The kids and I were excited for some levity in the middle of all that snow and cold. We planned the menu carefully and Lena helped me cook while Emma and Jeffrey “decorated” the table. About 30 minutes before she was due to arrive, she called to say that due to a series of setbacks, she was running late. She called back again a little while later; traffic was at a standstill and she wasn’t sure when it would be moving again. She encouraged us to eat without her. But the kids really wanted to wait for her, and were searching for a justification. We declared the day “European Dinner Day,” and had snacks until supper was served around 9:00 p.m. It’s not even hard The need to celebrate must be hardwired. Those months between Valentine’s Day and Easter often stretch out bleakly before us. A similar sense of emotional drag occurs between Easter and Memorial Day. Finding excuses to dress up, have a party or spend the day outside laughing with friends and family relieves the tension of day-to-day life. It can revitalize a sagging family morale, which […]

Be careful what you wish for

Essure claims to provide non-surgical sterilization with no cutting. But there are risks with Essure's rewards, so be sure you do your homework first.

Chomp!

A friend of mine is a stay-at-home mom to a four-year-old and a two-year-old. Her days are full of the minute-to-minute care of little ones, the way mine was just a few years ago. Most mornings, we enjoy 15 minutes on the phone while I drive to school and she makes breakfast for the kids. If you’ve ever had a conversation with someone in her position, you know that there are frequent interruptions. Usually, it’s a minor thing. The four-year-old asks for a drink of water or the two-year-old gets a bonk on the head. The other day, though, I heard through the phone an unmistakable high-pitched shriek from the four-year-old. That particular sound can only mean one thing: the child has been bitten. I’ve never heard of a toddler who hasn’t bitten someone at least a few times, and I can’t think of a single parent who doesn’t react strongly to biting. It’s a hot button for adults. When your child gets bitten, you want to take down the biter! And when your child has sunk her pearly whites into another, it’s even worse. Because biting seems to be a constant of early childhood, it’s important to look at what motivates little ones to clamp down so the behavior can be corrected as quickly as possible. I think what makes adults so angry about biting is the same thing that causes it – it’s a very animal thing to do. Despite the fact that toddlers are small people, they are also very animal. Those instincts have not yet been replaced with more socially acceptable behaviors. The biggest thing we do as parents is guide our children through their first 18 years, raising compassionate, empathetic adults who can feel the difference between right and wrong in their hearts. Most of us know this starts at birth. We interact with our babies in ways that affirm “people skills.” We are delighted when the baby smiles at us; we videotape those first laughs. We teach please, thank you and you’re welcome by example, and then by reminding. As adults, we have to remember the reason toddlers bite and work from there. Most young children bite because they don’t have the words to express their feelings. They have all the same emotions that you and I do, with the same intensity. But they don’t have any way to talk about it. So those feelings well up, just building up inside the chest of the toddler, and they have to be let out! The question for the parent is how to bring a swift and sure end to biting before it really takes hold. It seems best to immediately employ a strategy that combines lessons of empathy and vocabulary. Empathy is largely learned, and it’s important to start early. When your child hurts another through biting (or hitting, pushing, or any other wonderful, typical toddler interaction), it is important to point out the other child’s pain. It’s also important to be honest about the […]

Geek Squad

I wonder sometimes how my kids play off our family’s inherent nerdiness at school. After a full evening of fondue and folding origami, do they tell their friends what we did and how hard we laughed? Or do they stay quiet as their peers regale everyone with tales of playing the latest Wii game or watching a new release on the flat screen in hi-def? I feel certain that my youngest, Jeffrey, complains the way only a seven-year old can about the fact we don’t have a game system in the house. He’s good at video games; I’ve seen him play at our friends’ houses. He’s quick, intuitive and very, very focused. But I’ve also seen the way his entire demeanor changes after about 30 minutes in front of a screen, and it’s not pretty. He grows surly and openly defiant with everyone around him. So instead of plugging in with a video game, he and I solve Sudoku puzzles together. He is just as good at those, using his focus differently and figuring out the answers quickly. We laugh while we do it, and really enjoy ourselves. I am not at all ashamed to say that he is better than I am at Sudoku. My middle child, Emma, may well invent stories about our life for her friends. She invents stories about everything and I have had to redefine the term “lying” in our house so that she can be openly creative without getting in trouble about it. When the kids were very young, I would call them out for little white lies by euphemistically saying to them, “Is that true, or are you telling me a story?” Now we know that Emma is often “telling a story” on purpose, working to make it as big and colorful as possible. I’m sure that if Emma decides to tell her classmates that we once spent an entire road trip making up a story about Martian squirrels with purple hands, she’s will invent a story around the story. She might talk about how her mom “made her” participate, and about how her part of the story was the best, “everyone said so.” Or maybe she’ll change the details. Maybe we weren’t simply driving to a friend’s house up in Oshkosh. Perhaps instead we were stuck in the car during a blizzard for two whole days with no food except half a box of Cheez-its and it was the only way to keep warm and stay awake until rescue workers could save us! The truth, of course, is that Emma loves to create all kinds of things, not just stories. She draws cubist seahorses, paints fairies in flight, colors her fingernails with markers and costumes herself daily in splashes of hot pink and day-glow red – at the same time. My oldest, Lena, loves to spend free time on our home computer. She researches Harry Potter characters and builds huge files of information about them. She chats with friends, sends emails out […]

The fine art of persuasion

In fourth grade, the children at Roosevelt Elementary are taught how to write a persuasive letter. My nine-year-old, Emma, has been faithfully practicing this skill. Here’s a case in point. Recently, our cat Lucius decided to exhibit his displeasure with the humans by peeing on the floor next to where I was standing. It was a short-lived habit, occurring about two times. But in my frustration of the moment, I was overheard saying that I couldn’t keep a cat that wouldn’t use his litter box. Here is Emma’s written response to that comment. Had I been seriously inclined to drop the cat at the Humane Society I’m not sure it would have changed my mind, but in terms of sheer persuasive skills, Emma clearly found catharsis in this process of careful manipulation and has developed it into an art form. May it be a guide to all of us. You’ve got to fight for what you believe in.

Baby girl

She is 12 years old. She is beautiful and funny. Instead of saying, Mom, you’re embarrassing me she laughs and says, “Mom – you’re scaring me.” It’s her joke. She is 12 years old. She is in love with a boy from school. And one from the theater. She ponders herself in the mirror, practicing for the rest of her life. This is like one long rehearsal and she wants to be ready. She is 12 years old. She comes into my room late at night – to check on me. Not because the thunder woke her, but because she thought maybe I needed something. She is 12 years old. She stamps her foot and bites her lip when she’s angry. “Whatever.” And walks out of the room. We both know she can’t stay mad for too long. She is 12 years old. She says “I love you” to me, her dad, her brother and sister. Aunts, uncles, cousins. Friends from school. Can’t bear to part company without letting her people know she loves them. What if it’s the last she’ll ever see them? An accident or something could part her from her loved ones – she worries about this. She worries that the last words they hear from her won’t be “I love you.”

Family Dinner

Fried chicken Collard greens Cheese grits Candied sweet potatoes Three generations Father >> Daughter > Fiance, 9 yr old son, 15 yr old soontobe daughter, 14 yr old soontobe daughter Daughter > Partner, 12 yr old daughter, 9 yr old daughter, 7 yr old son > Kids’ dad Daughter > 5 yr old son Two dogs (trapped in bedrooms), One dog (free to roam the house), Two cats (trapped in basement), One tortoise (happy on the buffet), One guinea pig (cuddled and hand-fed salad), Seven hermit crabs (quickly fed and then ignored out of respect for the crabaphobe) Laughter, squealing, Iloveyou across the room. Paper plates, rooster salt and pepper and shakers. Hugs, song lyrics, wooden spoons brandished and a decided lack of aprons and hot pad holders. Cubist turtle picture drawn in one quiet corner of the house. Lego worlds built and disassembled. A rare 60 minutes stolen on the Nintendo 64 while dinner cooks downstairs. We’ve repeated this scene with minor variations at least 5 times in the last two weeks. We are lucky. We are blessed. We are family.

Stretch your Brain

A few days ago, I opened my email to find the following message from a friend: ANTI-GOD MOVIE WARNING “I almost had this book in my hand for a Christmas present for my son, but found something else. I’m glad ... I just got this message today."

Growing up, moving out and keepin’ on.

“We love coming to Milwaukee because we just always get such, there’s so much excitement; so much is coming back to us from the crowd. It just feels really good to be here.” That’s how Ty Greenstein, one third of the increasingly well-known band Girlyman, ends our interview. I’ve been sitting around Shank Hall with them for about half an hour chatting and it’s time for their sound check. I thank them for taking the time to talk to me, and they thank me back warmly. Let me just repeat that part – they thank me! I drive home with a smile on face, thinking about the things they said to me. I had been a little nervous about the interview earlier. I mean, I’ve been writing for VITAL Source for years, but as the Slightly Crunchy Parent. In the office I’m referred to as the Crunchy P (Crunchy Pea? Crunchy Pee?), not as a music reviewer or even as a reporter. I worried as I drove over to Shank Hall that I would come off exactly as I am, a moderately dowdy woman who spends most of her time with her kids and rarely does anything as grown up and metropolitan as interviewing a band. When Girlyman came into meet me, they were short one member of the trio. Doris Muramatsu wasn’t well and needed to rest before the show, and so the interview would be with Ty Greenstein and Nate Borofsky. Seeing the two of them without Doris was a little startling, as the three have been together almost without break since the band’s inception six year ago. Not only do they work and perform together, but until recently – when Ty and Nate moved to Atlanta — they shared a small apartment in Brooklyn. The band has continued writing, practicing and performing together; the move has done nothing but good things for their creative process. “We spent almost seven years living together in the same small apartment in Brooklyn,” explains Nate, “and after a certain point, it started to feel a little…” “Small.” Ty finishes. “Yes, small,” laughs Nate. “It started to feel smaller and smaller. Genevieve, our manager, was also living with us at the end, and then we got a dog and so really, it just got really small.” Ty adds, “In the beginning it really gave us a creative push. We were all in one space and it really easy to just write songs and do all this creative work. That got us through the first three or four years. We just didn’t have much else besides each other.” But after so much closeness, it was time for a change. Nate and Ty both moved to Atlanta while Doris stayed in New York. Nate tells me, “We’re still working out ways to meet for practice, but when we are together on stage, and even just seeing each other, it feels more vibrant. We’re more invigorated about playing together now.” Ty elaborates. “Something changed and […]

Tone deaf and loving it!

When I was just a little girl, my grandmother used to say to me, “Lucky, honey, you can’t carry a tune in a bucket.” She said it often, because in spite of the fact that I didn’t sing well, I did sing a lot. And I sang as loud as I could. I have always loved singing. I participated in chorus in junior high and high school in the hopes that, with some training, I would become at least a passable singer. It never happened. I always thought I was tone deaf, but have recently discovered that the scientific term for my musical deficiency is pitch deafness. It’s sad but true, I’ll probably never be a good singer. Equally sad for the people who have to ride in the car with me is the fact that I still love to sing – very loudly. This trait is one that I have passed on generously to all three of my kids. Just as we share a love for singing at the top of our lungs, not one of us can, as Granny Betty used to say, carry a tune in a bucket. We sing loud and proud. And badly. According to that most reliable of internet sources, Wikipedia, “The inability [to discriminate between musical notes] is most often caused by lack of musical training or education and not actual tone deafness.” I’m not convinced this is true after my years of dedication to public school chorus and my girls’ years spent in the church choir. That training did manage to make us into pretty good mimics. We can copy music we hear repeatedly fairly reliably as long the music is playing, and that’s good enough for us. Early and often! When the kids were very young, I hoped that starting them earlier in structured music lessons would allow them to overcome this fine family quality. My girls started singing in our church’s children’s choir at six years old, and their little brother went with them faithfully to every rehearsal for the love of singing. Despite their obvious enthusiasm, it didn’t seem to improve their skills much. Since they come from a family of music lovers, my kids have wanted to learn about other forms of musical expression as well. Both girls took ballet and jazz dance lessons. Lena studied violin for two years and Emma starts with it this fall. Jeffrey is teaching himself how to break dance, and is pretty dedicated to becoming good at it. Last year, Lena took World Music in her first year of middle school and was exposed to marimbas, maracas, bongos, tambourines and many other instruments. Lovin’ it all Through all of the lessons and classes, my children have remained absolutely enthralled with music of all sorts. From bluegrass to rock, from classic country to hip-hop, they can sing along to the words without missing a single beat. They recognize instruments they hear, and fairly reliably identify music by country of origin. All three of […]

Gardasil – Hope or Hype?

As my oldest daughter, Lena, moves out of childhood and into adolescence, her dad and I are plagued with so many new dilemmas. She, like all 12-year-olds, would like more privileges and wants us to trust her to make more of her own decisions. These things slip in and out of our daily conversation pretty easily now. We discuss, resolve and move on. Then there are the bigger issues regarding Lena’s growth that have just sort of woven themselves into the fabric of our lives, changing our interaction slightly while we learn about the woman she’s becoming. These issues largely revolve around her health and emerging sexuality. At 12, she’s noticing boys. She’s picking clothes that make her look cute and gazing in the mirror, trying to figure out who she is. We are gazing back at her, watching our baby grow up. While these developments have been in the forefront in our home, the backdrop for young women all over the country has been altered. There is a new vaccine that prevents HPV (human papillomavirus), one of the major causes of cervical cancer in sexually active women. I decided to do some research about this vaccine after Merck (the manufacturer of Gardasil) recommended it be given to girls as young as 9, meaning I have not one, but two daughters who are prime candidates for receiving it. What I learned while I was digging around was interesting, to say the least. In the convincing ad campaign for the vaccine, young street-wise beauties from all walks of life look the television audience straight in the eye and talk about taking their health into their own hands. In place of the sing-song jingle so common in pharmaceutical commercials (as in, “Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now” ) , there is an infectious, urban chant proclaiming that recipients of the vaccine will be “One Less, One Less” victim of cervical cancer. Did you know? There are over 100 strains of HPV, and about 30 of them are sexually transmitted. Other strains cause warts on the hands and feet, or occur asymptomatically. Nearly 75 percent of Americans will contract HPV before their 50th birthdays. Most cases of HPV need no treatment and will resolve on their own without any problems. Of the 30 sexually transmitted strains, about 14 are considered high risk, meaning they have the potential to mutate into precancerous lesions on the cervix. Not all precancerous lesions will become cervical cancer, however. Many will also disappear on their own. Gardasil protects against four strains of sexually transmitted HPV. Two of them are low-risk strains, causing visible genital warts but not presenting any real danger. The other two are high-risk strains, meaning that if they went untreated, they might become precancerous. According to the studies done before the vaccine was released, Gardasil is about 70 percent effective in preventing these four strains of HPV in women who have never had those particular strains before. Gardasil is a three-injection series to […]

Banging the drum, softly

It’s hard to believe that we’re coming up on the end of yet another summer that seemed to go by too fast. But whether we believe it or not, it’s true. August is upon us and for me, that always means two major events. The month begins with World Breastfeeding Week and ends with my youngest child, Jeffrey’s, birthday. This year, the two things seem very connected in my mind and in my heart. Jeffrey is turning seven this year and will be a second grader. He is definitely Big now, there is no denying it. He has spent his summer playing Pokemon cards, learning to ride his two wheeler and trying to perfect the spikes of his mohawk. He is still the cuddliest of all the cousins, offering hugs and kisses to everyone and making sure to yell “I love you,” before going outside to play. Even with all that, he’s no baby. As I get ready to celebrate World Breastfeeding Week with my usual circulation of petitions and rounds of emails about the rights of breastfeeding mothers and babies, I can’t help but look back fondly and a little over-sentimentally on my years as a nursing mama. It’s been a long, long time since I took a baby to the breast, but I remember it vividly. There are times when, as corny as it sounds, my arms actually ache to hold a baby close to my heart in that way. Since Jeffrey was my last baby, my focus returns again and again to the years we spent as a nursing duo. He was what’s known as a cluster feeder as an infant, meaning he would nurse every 15 or 20 minutes for a few hours and then sleep for a long time, sometimes five or six hours, even in the middle of the day. When he was actually nursing, he would offer his hand up to me for kisses and snuggle in close. As a nursing toddler, he liked to play a game he called “hide and nurse,” where he pulled whatever shirt I was wearing over his whole body while pushing himself as firmly into me as possible. Normally, when I write my column for August, I bang the drum of breastfeeding politics long and loud. I have covered the Nestle boycott, breastfeeding rights, the language of breastfeeding and several other hard-hitting issues. This year, however, I am feeling softer and more nostalgic. I am also a little bored with shouting the facts about the whys and wherefores of breastfeeding that we’ve all heard so often that even people without children can likely say them by rote. Instead, in tribute to Jeffrey’s seventh birthday and because I’m a big sap, I want to talk about my own personal motivations for breastfeeding. These are not to negate the solid science of health reasons; those go without saying and so don’t even make the top five. No, what follows is, as I said, personal. Not everything good is all […]

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

There is an old joke that starts, “A man comes home from work and found his three children outside, still in their pajamas, playing in the mud, with empty food boxes and wrappers strewn all around the front yard.” It goes on to elaborate on the mess inside the house as well: dishes in the sink, broken glass and sand on the floor, toothpaste on the bathroom mirror and toys everywhere. When he finally finds his wife, she is curled up in bed reading a novel. He says, “What happened here today?” To which she replies, “You know every day when you come home from work and you ask me what in the world I did today? Well, today I didn’t do it.” As much as I hate to admit it, this joke accurately represents the view many people still hold about stay-at-home parents of both genders. When Mom stays home with the kids, she is bombarded with questions about how she could possibly fill her day if she doesn’t have to work outside of the home, plus the more modern “concern” about whether she is lacking necessary “career fulfillment.” When Dad stays home, he has to answer the same questions while fighting societal stereotypes that cast him as less masculine than his male peers. The truth about being a stay-at-home parent is that it is some of the hardest work a person will ever do. The day starts as soon as the first child wakes in the morning and doesn’t end until the parent climbs back into bed at night. Even then, it is the stay-at-home parent who typically manages any nighttime needs because first consideration is given to the working parent, the one who has to leave the house to earn a living. I know it might sound like hyperbole to say that a parent’s work is never done, but let’s look at a typical day in the life of my friend, Jesi, mother of a 3- and a 1-year-old. A day in the life The 1-year-old wakes up at 6:30 a.m. to nurse with his mama before the hectic day starts. After he dozes off again, Jesi checks her email and attends to the administrative details of the household and the La Leche League chapter for which she volunteers. If there’s time, she grabs a bath. Because her bathroom is next to the bedroom, at least one of the kids wakes up while she’s in there and joins her in the tub. Then everyone needs breakfast. Jesi makes some food for 3-year-old Nora while nursing 1-year-old Max in the sling. While the kids eat, she gets dressed as quickly as possible while making a phone call to another friend to finalize details for a play outing. Once plans are firm, it’s time to pull out clothes for Nora and Max and pack a bag for the day with extra clothes, diapers, board books, snacks, water, sand toys and sun block. She hangs last night’s laundry on the […]

Get ‘em while they’re interesting

The 2008 presidential election marks the first time in 80 years that there has been neither an incumbent presidential nor vice-presidential candidate. We at VITAL Source are celebrating Independence Day and the kick-off of the official campaign season with a collection of quotes from the Democratic and Republican candidates. We’ve spent days pouring over campaign speeches, reading debate transcripts and closely examining candidates’ websites to cull out a few small nuggets that articulate each candidate’s feelings about the current state of our country. Exactly what these nuggets are made of is up to you to decide… Senator Joseph Biden Look, freedom is an overwhelming American notion. The idea that we want to see the world, the peoples of the world, free is something that all of us subscribe to. Here at home, when Americans were standing in long lines to give blood after the attack on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon, we squandered an obvious opportunity to make service a noble cause again, and rekindle an American spirit of community. Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton I’m sick and tired of people who say that if you debate and disagree with this administration, somehow you’re not patriotic. We need to stand up and say we’re Americans, and we have the right to debate and disagree with any administration. The American people are tired of liars and people who pretend to be something they’re not. Senator Christopher Dodd Entrenched bureaucracies are always opposed to fundamental changes. Every American deserves to live in freedom, to have his or her privacy respected and a chance to go as far as their ability and effort will take them – regardless of race, gender, ethnicity or economic circumstances. Former Senator John Edwards This is America, where everything is still possible. I have grown up in the bright light of America. Former Senator Mike Gravel We have become a nation ruled by fear. Since the end of the Second World War, various political leaders have fostered fear in the American people—fear of Communism, fear of terrorism, fear of immigrants, fear of people based on race and religion, fear of Gays and Lesbians in love who just want to get married, and fear of people who are somehow different. It is fear that allows political leaders to manipulate us all and distort our national priorities. It’s like going into the Senate. You know, the first time you get there, you’re all excited, “My God, how did I ever get here?” Then, about six months later, you say, “How the hell did the rest of them get here?” Representative Dennis Kucinich We have weapons of mass destruction we have to address here at home. Poverty is a weapon of mass destruction. Homelessness is a weapon of mass destruction. Unemployment is a weapon of mass destruction. This is a struggle for the soul of the Democratic Party, which in too many cases has become so corporate and identified with corporate interests that you can’t tell the difference between Democrats […]

Anybody ever wonder why I’m skeptical about state mandated vaccines?

This HPV vaccine has scared me since before its official FDA approval last year. When several states introduced legislation to mandate its use in pre-teen populations, I was incensed as well as dubious. The first reports are now coming about how potentially dangerous this vaccine can be. Read on… http://www.judicial watch.org/ 6299.shtml Judicial Watch Uncovers Three Deaths Relating to HPV Vaccine Event Reports Obtained from FDA Detail 1,637 Adverse Reactions to Gardasil (Washington, DC) — Judicial Watch, the public interest group that investigates and prosecutes government corruption, today released documents obtained from the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) under the provisions of the Freedom of Information Act, detailing 1,637 reports of adverse reactions to the vaccination for human papillomavirus (HPV), Gardasil. Three deaths were related to the vaccine. One physician’s assistant reported that a female patient “died of a blood clot three hours after getting the Gardasil vaccine.” Two other reports, on girls 12 and 19, reported deaths relating to heart problems and/or blood clotting. As of May 11, 2007, the 1,637 adverse vaccination reactions reported to the FDA via the Vaccine Adverse Event Reporting System (VAERS) included 371 serious reactions. Of the 42 women who received the vaccine while pregnant, 18 experienced side effects ranging from spontaneous abortion to fetal abnormities. Side effects published by Merck & Co. warn the public about potential pain, fever, nausea, dizziness and itching after receiving the vaccine. Indeed, 77% of the adverse reactions reported are typical side effects to vaccinations. But other more serious side effects reported include paralysis, Bells Palsy, Guillain-Barre Syndrome, and seizures. “The FDA adverse event reports on the HPV vaccine read like a catalog of horrors,” stated Judicial Watch President Tom Fitton. “Any state or local government now beset by Merck’s lobbying campaigns to mandate this HPV vaccine for young girls ought to take a look at these adverse health reports. It looks as if an unproven vaccine with dangerous side effects is being pushed as a miracle drug.” Judicial Watch filed its request on May 9, 2007, and received the adverse event reports from the FDA on May 15, 2007. Judicial Watch has posted the adverse event reports below. (A recent study, published in the New England Journal of Medicine, also questioned the general effectiveness of Gardasil.) ###

The road to hell by, by any other name

It’s time for me to admit it – I am one of those moms. By that, I mean I make mistakes with my kids. And the mistakes I make are classics – the ones we all swore we would never make. When you’re pregnant with your first baby, you make a list of things you know you will do for your child. And most of us make a list of things that will never happen. In light of a few particularly painful recent gaffes on my part, now may be a good time to remind us all that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Last weekend we celebrated Emma’s 9th birthday. She had a fairy party with a few of her friends on Saturday. Sunday evening, we had a big family birthday dinner for her, complete with ice cream cake and presents. I felt like we had covered it all. I felt like a good mom. But then she came home from school with a giant “Happy Birthday” sticker on her shirt. Her brother said, “Whose birthday did you have at school today?” and I heard Emma answer, “It was supposed to be mine.” That’s when I realized I had forgotten birthday treats. Completely forgotten – didn’t even register on my radar. Of course, today I tried to make it up to her by supplying enough Pudding Pops to feed a small army. She seems to be okay with this, but I am traumatized. Earlier this month, my first grader Jeffrey had to make his “All About Me” book to present to his class. He needed a collection of pictures of himself, starting from when he was a newborn and spanning his short little life. I pulled out the box of family photos (all jumbled and unorganized – another confession for another time) and went through nearly a hundred packets of photos. To fill the page titled “When I was born,” I was able to produce a picture of Jeffrey taken when he was 9 minutes old, a studio photo of him when he was two months old and then some photos of his first birthday party. He had a good time looking at the thousands of pictures of his older sisters, but he did wonder out loud where all the pictures of him were – several times. I wondered, too, and told him that I was sure I had just packed them in a different box. The truth is I’m not sure there are any more pictures of his first year. But wait, there’s more! 1. I don’t always make the kids eat vegetables. Every night at dinner, they are offered fruit and veggies. They have to pick one and they have to eat what they pick. But it often happens that for several days in a row no one picks a vegetable. I don’t push it. I didn’t like vegetables as a kid and I do now. I’m hoping they grow into it. 2. I […]

Falling in love with Roberta

As I sit to write this, I am surrounded by half-full boxes and piles of things for Purple Heart. The Slightly Crunchy Parent has bought a new house, and we’ll be moving very soon. The house my partner and I found was a foreclosure and in desperate need of much work before being habitable and, as a result, we have spent the last three weeks just getting it put together enough to move in. I wrote the following poem while I was working and falling in love with our new home. This four-bedroom, four-square colonial is all I’ve been able to think about for weeks. I would like to take this opportunity to thank everyone who has helped during this process, because contrary to the way it sounds when you read the poem, I did not do the work on the house by myself – there is simply no way one person could have done it all and, as usual, my friends and family stepped up and lent more than a hand. My sisters have been there for us every step of the way, encouraging and cleaning, sanding, painting and cleaning some more. Michelle and Mrs. Jesi have fed us and listened to us cry and worked at our side. My parents Jude, Kenny and John have been instrumental with the greenbacks and I am grateful to have come from such great people. Allen, the wood guru, walked us through doing the floors and logged uncountable hours managing that monstrous project. My secret connection at the paint store made it possible for us to repaint the entire interior of the house before we moved in and gave us solid counsel about just how to manage the minor mold problem in the basement. As always, my little Lena has showed up to work every day she wasn’t in school, and has made me more proud than I’ve ever known I could be. There were more people who helped and more people who have promised their services than I can name here, and we are thankful to each and every person. VS

After the party – How to handle the pox

By Lucky Tomaszek In February, I shared with you all my friend Jesi’s successful quest to expose her two children to the chicken pox. The reactions I received from people were wildly varied, with some readers telling me about the chicken pox parties they had when their own children were young and others telling me that they unequivocally believe in the advances brought to us by mandated vaccination. The one common thread, however, was a memory of someone completely covered in pox and how awful it was. Most of the time, chicken pox is a minor illness that causes fairly minor discomfort. This is not always the case, however, as my own family discovered just days before my last column was published. My oldest daughter, Lena, woke up on a Sunday morning with three chicken pox on her belly and one on her scalp. She was running a low-grade fever and had the sniffles. We had exposed her to a young neighbor 23 days before this and I had assumed that it was going to pass her by again, as the incubation period is typically 14 to 21 days. In a rather self-congratulatory way, I picked up some colloidal oatmeal bath packets and Calamine lotion and prepared to spend a day or two comforting her through the worst of it. The typical varicella routine unfolds like this: one to two days of a low grade fever, the sniffles and maybe some coughing before any pox are seen; one to two days with the same symptoms and with pox erupting on the scalp and on the torso; one to two days of getting new pox; a couple final days of the pox crusting over and forming scabs. Pretty straightforward, right? Not this time. By Sunday night Lena’s fever had gone up to 103, where it stayed for four days. Each day, more than a hundred new pox appeared. She was exhausted, listless and had very little appetite. Party favors It didn’t take long to realize that colloidal oatmeal and Calamine lotion were not going to cut it. I turned to parents who had dealt with the pox for advice. One of the first things suggested was making Lena some Jell-o. I don’t usually keep that stuff in the house but my friend was right, Lena needed something. For about two days, it was one of the only things she could eat, and it even tasted good to her. She also recommended using a Burrows solution that you apply directly to the pox as part of a warm compress to help dry them out and promote faster healing. I found some at our local pharmacy. Every couple of hours I made a fresh batch and Lena found these to be very soothing. The colloidal oatmeal baths were also soothing but were made even better by making an oatmeal pouch for her to rub on her itchiest spots by filling a washcloth with oats and tying it off with a rubber band. Since […]

O.K. again

We are recovering. The first round of chicken pox has finally ended. It wasn’t really any longer than most cases of CP, but it was more severe than I’ve ever personally witnessed. My oldest daughter had more than 500 pox. For those wise-asses out there who want to know if I actually counted them all – I can tell you this: I quit counting after I found 40 behind her left ear, more than 150 on her back, and more than 100 on her face. Using my very best deduction skills, I knew that if I had found almost two hundred on less than 1/4 of her body, we could safely assume that we had crossed the 500 pock mark. To be clear, I chose this. The varicella vaccine was one we omitted intentionally, knowing that natural immunity was stronger and longer-lasting than the kind you get in a bottle. What I didn’t expect was that it would take until she was almost 12 before we found a case virulent enough to infect her. She ran a fever of 103 for days. She barely ate, barely slept. She lost about five pounds, which she could scarcely afford to lose. She was brave – and she hardly ever even scratched the pox, in spite of the fact that they itched her to the point where she looked liked an wounded animal. Sometimes she cried, and sometimes she clutched my sweater and said, “Mama, make it stop! Please make it stop!” Those were times when I cried, too. I cried and I rocked her and I told her I was so sorry, I didn’t know it would be that bad. But it’s coming to a close. Today she’s sitting up on the couch, laughing and playing Life with her dad. She’s so so so hungry and ready to take a real shower and wash her hair. We’ll spend some time today brushing her hair out and going over her missed school work from the week. I’ll probably continue to sigh with relief that it’s finally over and that she seems to be O.K. again.

Chicken pox party

By Lucky Tomaszek I called my friend Jesi one evening in early December to see if she wanted do a little Christmas shopping, but she told me she already had plans. “We’re headed out to Watertown for a chicken pox party; I won’t be home for a couple of hours.” That’s right, she said “chicken pox party,” and parents all over the country are searching them out as a way to expose their children to what’s been dubbed by the medical community as “wild chicken pox.” In spite of the existence of the chicken pox vaccine (available in the U.S. since 1995), many families still believe in the superior protection provided by contracting the actual disease over the immunization. As luck would have it, Jesi’s kids contracted the pox at the party. She brought it back to her West Allis home, where she has graciously shared it with several other families who had been looking for a local case, including mine. During the last couple of months, we’ve all done a fair bit of research to learn how to make our quest for chicken pox as successful as possible. We’re currently waiting with our fingers crossed to see if any of my kids break out. The earlier, the better Chicken pox is most contagious in the 24 hours before the pox appear and for the first 24 hours after you start seeing spots. If you have friends and family members who want to be exposed, it’s best to do so as soon as possible. As the pox start to heal up and crust over (after four or five days), the possibility of spreading the virus diminishes. Once all the pox are crusted over, there is no more risk of contagion and children are usually able to return to school or daycare. The virus that causes chicken pox is varicella-zoster virus (VZV) and it’s the same virus that causes shingles in about 10 percent of adults over 40 years old. It’s possible for a child to contract chicken pox after being exposed to an adult with shingles, but it’s not possible for the child to contract shingles from exposure to shingles. Hosting your own party According to www.askdrsears.com, “[Chicken pox] is passed through the saliva, coughing secretions and direct touch. In general, you must either be living in the same house or play indoors in close face-to-face contact for more than 5 minutes, or have close face-to-face or physical contact outdoors in order to catch the illness.” If your goal is to expose your child, there are several tried and true methods that have been around for generations. Gathering a group of children and visiting a friend with chicken pox is the first step. Once everyone is together, have the children share treats like lollypops, ice cream cones and popsicles. If any of the children are too little to eat those kinds of food, passing around a communal sippy-cup is also effective. Allow the children to play together for at least […]

Everything for everybody

By Vital Staff Let’s face it; this is the time of year when most peoples’ energy ebbs low while commitments proceed at their regularly-scheduled breakneck speed. There was that mental break from the day-to-day world over the holidays (often taking the form of surreal flashes of family, food and lots of driving), immediately followed by a fiery re-entry to work and school life. Yuck. Just thinking about it makes you want to crawl under the covers and not come out until spring. Sadly, that’s not an option for most of us, and if we’re truthful few of us could stay buried for very long before we got real twitchy from lack of stimulus. So what’s a hard-working person to do? We at VITAL decided to hit the road for a weekend, with the following guidelines: must be within reasonable driving distance, yet far enough away so that you won’t run back home for a forgotten item; must be comfortable and, above all, must be a place where you can hear yourself think. Even breathe. Six of us went out and six came back with stories to tell about… mostly nothing, unless relaxation still counts for something in this crazy world. We recommend you try it soon. The Whistling Swan 4192 Main Stret, Door County 920-868-3442 www.whistlingswan.com September 2001 was the last time I took a vacation from work. I had almost forgotten how it feels not to work for a couple of days; to take a break from the daily drudgery. Having too long ignored a need for at least a break from it all, I ventured off to Fish Creek in Door County for a weekend. After a peaceful two and a half hour drive I arrived at The Whistling Swan Inn, Door Peninsula’s oldest operating inn, on a balmy Saturday afternoon. Interesting historic footnote: this beautiful late 19th century Victorian inn was moved across frozen Green Bay in 1907 to its current location. Fish Creek is small, its main stretch spanning roughly seven by three city blocks and housing small shops, galleries, bar and grills, inns and the very well-known Potters Wheel pottery workshop. If you are a people person and love summer activities, Door County, with its small resort towns and abundance of hiking, boating, shopping and dining, is the place to come in warm weather months. Rates won’t be as pocket-friendly but are worth every penny. October’s also a very busy month, with many fall festivals to suit every fancy. This winter, due to virtually no snow and the subsequent absence of winter activities, the area has experienced a decline in tourism. This, however, benefits those who prefer solitude and more reasonable lodging rates. I took off on foot to explore this little town’s offerings. I landed at a local pub to enjoy a nice glass of good scotch and engage in the great activity of people watching. I found a mix of locals and outside visitors, with conversations varying from local gossip to tourists planning […]

My greatest teachers

By Lucky Tomaszek I am lying on the couch with one child spooned up against my belly and another lying on my side. We are covered with a blanket and the television is quietly playing in the background. I doze in and out while they watch a movie. Jeffrey, my youngest, whispers, “You’re the best snuggler in the world, Mama. I love you.” I melt into the couch and drift off once again. A very long day The scene above happened the day after I had disappeared for 14 hours to attend an all-night birth. When I came home in the morning, I was exhausted. Fatigue made me achy and cranky. We had a busy day in front of us, with chores and obligations scheduled throughout the afternoon. I had attempted a brief nap in the morning, but had given up when I couldn’t fall asleep easily. My temper was so short the kids kept their distance and waited the day out. I don’t even know how many times I snapped at them as we moved through the afternoon and into the evening. By the time the sun went down, I was frustrated with myself for my behavior toward them. It wasn’t their fault that I was tired, and I knew it. My inner voice was berating me with vigor and I wondered again if my children would only remember these hard days when they looked back as adults. But then, as if by magic, we found ourselves curled up on the couch, passing the evening in peace. The haves and the have-nots of feelings My kids are good. It’s my opinion that almost all kids are good kids, actually, even when they have a hard time holding their behavior together. They come equipped with enormous hearts to give and receive great big love, and with a desire to do so. They also come with all of the other emotions that we have as adults: sadness, anger, frustration, joy, fear and on and on. What they don’t have is the ability to communicate about those feelings. As infants and toddlers, they don’t yet have the words to tell us exactly how they’re feeling. As school-age children and teens, they often don’t have the context to explain it coherently. The fact that the ability to articulate their emotions haven’t developed doesn’t mean that those feelings are any less real or valid than any of ours. When a toddler is jealous enough to bite, when a second grader is angry enough to punch and when a 16 year old is crazy to proclaim true love all over their biology folder – it’s as real as it gets. Behavior needs to be molded, and corrected in many instances, but the emotions are pure. When my own behavior is out of line, like it was many times during the day I described earlier, I apologize to my kids and tell them why I was misbehaving. I don’t do it to excuse myself, but just […]

My mad dream for the holidays

By Lucky Tomaszek It’s been years since I’ve looked forward to a holiday season this way. I think about it every day, and like a kid, I’m getting excited. Each time a new event gets added to my calendar, I am just a little happier about the next six weeks unfolding in front of my family and me. If you’re surprised to read this, you’re not alone. I’m surprised about it myself. I thought that I had lost my sense of winter wonder years ago, and was merely drudging through the season, surviving it, like so many of us. We know that people are more prone to depression during the weeks leading up to Christmas and that the endless Ho-Ho-Ho’ing and shopping and cookie-making and (worst by far) obligations make relaxing next to impossible. But somehow, this year, I don’t care. It’s not that I have more free time than before. In fact, I’m busier now than I can remember being in years. And it’s not that I’ve been the recipient of some large windfall. As near as I can tell, this is going to be the tightest holiday in recent memory. There’s no lack of responsibilities this year, either. As a student, midwife, mother and active member of my tribe, I never stop moving during daylight hours. In spite of all this, however, I am positively longing to find a cheap replacement for my current cheap (and now broken) artificial tree. After that, I want to spend a day with my kids, making a new garland for it out of mini-origami stars then decorating it with a our motley mélange of decorations: a collection of handmade gifts from the kids, cheap sets of ornaments from after-Christmas clearance sales and a few leftovers from my own childhood. After much pondering, I think I’ve discovered the reason for my overabundant (and perhaps a little sickening) enthusiasm. I began back to school in August to finish my English degree, which I started back before Madonna donned her first severe bullet bra. My oldest child is now in middle school and growing a healthy social life. My middle girl is a third-grader, a Brownie and a budding artist. My little guy is a first-grader, cute and cuddly, but with a nightly dose of homework that must be supervised. We are busy. And we miss each other. My dream (and please don’t shatter it) is that the holiday season will allow us to make up for a little lost time from the fall. Hot cider, hot chocolate, warm hugs and kisses. Wrapping paper, bows, endless envelopes to address. All of this sounds so good to me as we head into the holiday season. Heck, I’m even looking forward to poinsettias, though I’ve always found them ugly and they make me sneeze. There’s more, of course. From now till the 25th, we will be making our Christmas cards and signing them. All the kids are now old enough to reliably sign their own names on […]

Exhaling

When the movie “Waiting To Exhale” first came out, I had not yet had enough life experience to understand the title. That is no longer true. I have now had many times when my life was so full, so busy, or so stressful that I felt like I hadn’t had a long exhale in a long time. I’m having that right now. As my first semester as a returning college student winds down, I am overwhelmed with last minute details and meetings. Managing my registration for next semester, preparing portfolios to turn in, and studying for finals all have me in a bit of a tailspin. To be fair, I have worked ahead as far as possible in all of my courses, earning me a well-deserved teasing from my class mates. My load isn’t as big as it could be. But it’s big enough. And sometimes I think I’m not able to hold it up much longer. Fortunately, there is a little break coming. Tomorrow I only have one meeting on campus, and then no class until Monday. Thanksgiving is upon us, and with it, four class-free days. For that, I am truly thankful. Next Monday, I will trudge back to campus and finish out my last couple of weeks of classes and finals. Then I will exhale. Aw, hell. I might just exhale twice.

It’s a good one!

I’m grateful for this quiet, peaceful Saturday morning. My boy, who was sick last night, is feeling better. Both girls slept late and are in good moods. Soon we’ll start folding some origami and take the day easy. This is perfect. I’m the luckiest mama in the world.

Parent – teacher conferences

Tonight, we attended our kids’ parent-teacher conferences. As a recovering homeschooling family, these events are always interesting. I know how my children are doing in school, because I still sit with them as they do their work. I know exactly where their strengths and weaknesses lie, and I know how to get past them. The teachers always have a folio of papers to present as evidence of progress, or of lack thereof. I get myself in trouble by laughing with the kids, addressing them as real people during the conference. We tell jokes, we talk strategy, we praise all the good points in our out loud voices. The teacher looks at us askance, wonders what exactly we teach our children at home. And yet, every teacher we’ve had in the three years we’ve going to public school has to admit that our kids are funny, smart, polite, well-disciplined, and task oriented. They have to admit, that though they don’t understand it, and certainly don’t condone it, whatever it is that we’re doing is working. We high-five on our way out, another successful conference under our belts!

Another rockin’ night with the slightly crunchy mama

So, tonight the kids are on a short trip to Chicago with their dad, leaving me one peaceful night. I planned to take advantage of it. I wanted to soak in my tub, shave my legs, go to bed early, read for a few hours. I ‘ve been plotting it since we found out about the impromptu adventure at the beginning of the week. Of course, best laid plans and all of that. I grabbed a quick shower and made a run to the mall with my friend (and VITAL’s very own artistic designer) Joy to look for a text I need for school. After that it was a thrilling trip to Target for kitty litter and qtips. Off to my sister’s for a couple of hours of cruising youtube.com before heading for home. I’m currently sitting at my desk, mostly working on homework at 11:30 p.m. Note: no long bath, legs unshaven, no early bed for a feast of words. Our evening was more fun than anything I had planned, though, and once again I’m grateful to be where I am, with the people in my life. As a side note – I miss the hell out of my kids. As a matter of fact, I’m “feeding” my daughter’s iDog as I write this blog. Just cause he reminds me of her.

I thought we were done with this!

Here’s the tale of last night: There was one in the bed and the 11 year old said, “Mama, it’s been such a long day and I missed you. Can I sleep with you?” So the one rolled over and the 11 year old climbed in, snugged down, and fell fast asleep. G’night. There were two in the bed and the 6 year old said, “Mama, I had a very scary dream. Very SCARY! Can I sleep with you?” So the two rolled over and the 6 year old climbed in, snugged down, and fell fast asleep. G’night! There were three in the bed and the 8 year old said, “Mama, I don’t feel so well. I’m too hot and my throat is sore. Can I sleep with you?” So they all rolled over and the 8 year old climbed in, snugged down, and fell fast asleep. G’night! There were four in the bed and furry one said, “Meoooooow!” which meant, “Jesus, what does a cat have to do to get a spot in the family bed?” So they all rolled over and the furry one climbed in, snugged down, and fell fast asleep. Puurrrrr! Then the mama lay there, rigid and wide awake, not sleeping, and cramped into a terrible position. She kept thinking she would move to the couch to sleep, but in the end, she was warm and surrounded by love. Even if it was painful.

Name it?

My editor called me this week about my new VITAL Source blog. She wanted to know two things. The first: “Are you going to have your first blog entry in on time?” I stammered. “Um. Define ‘on time.’” “Very funny. The new website goes live at midnight on Wednesday, November 1. On time would be before that.” Oh. My. Okay – time to blog. “Yes, I’ll have it to you.” I wasn’t sure how I was going to pull it off. In addition to mothering three school-age children and being a homebirth midwife, I returned to school full time this fall to finish that English degree I started back in 1991. I had projects and papers due, and just wasn’t sure when I would get it done. Unfortunately, I didn’t fare much better on her second question. “What are you going to call it?” “Call what?” I asked innocently. “Your VITAL blog.” “Call it? Like a name?” “Yes, like a name. For your blog. For the new website. Do you read your emails?” I didn’t really need to answer that question since I was clearly perplexed by this entire conversation. “I assumed it would have the same name as my column?” This last sentence sounded more like a question which, in honesty, is what it was. She waited on the other end of the phone while I figured out that I needed to come up with a title for my blog. “Okay, I’ll come up with something during Sociology and call you back.” As I got off the phone, I was filled with dread. I’m not good at naming things. My cat’s name is Kitty because I just couldn’t come up with anything better. I kept thinking that I’d give her a real name eventually, but seeing as how she’s 13 years old now, it seems unlikely. It took days to name each of my children, though I had been preparing for it for nine months each time. I sank into my seat in class and started thinking. I was just getting in my car to leave Alverno and pull the three o’clock, white-knuckle, Hail-Mary drive back to Tosa to pick my kids up from school when my cell rang again. “Got a title for me?” My editor is good because she’s persistent. “Yes! I do! I have one.” “Give it to me.” “Oh Mama! A slightly crunchy blog.” She waited for a minute to see if I was joking. I waited a little long to indicate that I wasn’t. “Okay then.” I could hear her writing it down. I think I could also hear her shaking her head in disbelief at my decided lack of ability in naming anything. But maybe I’m projecting. “I told you I wasn’t good at this…” She assured me that it was fine and we talked about a few other things before we ended the call. Despite the fact that I was obviously unprepared for the launch of the new site and our new […]

We sing in the car

By Lucky Tomaszek We’re driving out to a rock climbing place for my daughter Lena’s 11th birthday. It’s July but it’s cool enough to have the windows down to the let breeze in. Lena says, “Will you play that one song, Mom?” I smile at her in the rear view mirror and scan through to track four. “Louder!” she calls from the back seat. I turn it up and look at her again, eyebrows up in question. “Louder!” She laughs as I crank it and then she’s singing along at the top of her lungs. Her friends bob their heads and sing the few words they know. As the song ends, she calls out, “Again? Please!” It’s her birthday, so I indulge her and start the song over, singing along with the stereo and my daughter while her friends try to keep up. As we pull into a parking space I turn the stereo down. Lena says to her friends, “You know how some families play softball or go for long bike rides? It’s like that. We sing in the car. It’s what our family does.” I have always loved music, and when my kids were born I swore I was going to do my best to share that love with them. To be clear, I’m not musically talented, not in any way. I can’t sing or play any instruments. And I can’t dance. Don’t ask me! But I have a great appreciation for the musical talents of others and never tire of hearing new music. I have worked hard to raise children who are musically open-minded, as well. Family favorites When Lena was a year old, her favorite CD was Peter Gabriel’s Shaking the Tree. She would bring me the disc over and over and shake her wee-tiny groove thing to “Solsbury Hill.” Not long before her second birthday, she fell in love with the song “Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps” by Cake. Being an incredibly articulate toddler, she could actually sing most of the words, though she didn’t really know what they meant. Emma joined our family around the time Lena turned three, while I was riding a wave of chick music: Indigo Girls, Tracy Chapman, Jewel, Sarah McLachlan. As I danced through the house, Emma nodded along in her sling, strapped to my chest and laughing with me as Lena followed banging on empty Tupperware containers. Even at eight years-old, Emma’s favorite song is still Edie Brickell’s “Black and Blue.” When Jeffrey was born six years ago, I was on a kick of revisiting all of my high school favorites. Tom Petty played throughout our home, punctuated by Deee-Lite’s World Clique. Concrete Blonde’s first album, U2’s Rattle and Hum, Replacement’s Hootenany – these and so many more were passed down from me to the three kids, giving them a healthy foundation from which to start to form their own musical opinions. Musical evolution I will be the first to admit that it was hard for me when Lena, at […]

Having THE Talk

By Lucky Tomaszek You just never know when it’s going to happen. You can be standing in line at the grocery store with your child, or walking into the exam room at your doctor’s office. Perhaps you’re lucky and you’re at home with no one around to watch you blush and fumble as you realize that it’s happening: your child is asking you about sex.   Different kids ask about it at different ages and for different reasons. Sometimes a relative or close friend is expecting a baby, or sometimes they’ve heard a whisper or rumor at school. Occasionally, they’ve seen pets, wild animals, or even (gasp!) their parents actually having sex. Whatever the reason, they’re curious and they want to know everything.   Making an important choice   As parents, we have a choice. We can tell them the truth without making them feel embarrassed, or we can fumble, stutter and let our own discomfort show. If you choose the first, your children will feel like they can come back to you later when they have more questions. Choose the second and you risk them turning to their peers for more information.   When I was in elementary school, it was very popular to give children a book when the questions started. During the 1970s and into the 80s, several feel-good, body-positive books were written to meet the demand. Where Did I Come From? by Peter Mayle is a good example of these. But I remember talking to friends who had received a book in response to their inquiries. All of them felt like the underlying message from their well-meaning parents was, “I don’t really want to talk about this.”   The question then becomes, how do we have this conversation? Not just “How do we survive it?” (which is a valid concern), but how do we handle it smoothly, while leaving all of the parties with their dignity intact?   How much is too much?   In our house, the kids are exposed to the circle of life very early. As a midwife, I have pregnant women coming in for prenatal care all the time, so the kids have been curious since an early age. It started with, “Why is her belly so big?”   That’s an easy one. “She has a baby in her belly” satisfied my inquisitor for a while.   Later I was approached again. “Mama? How did the baby get in there?”   Okay, Lucky. Deep breath. Fortunately, I quickly remembered a rule I had read in a mainstream parenting magazine years before. Answer these hard questions as briefly as possible. Children will ask for more information if they’re ready for it.   “It grew there,” I responded.   “Will it come out?”   “Yes,” I nodded reassuringly.   “When?”   “Around Christmas,” I sighed with relief as I realized that this was the end of this round of questions. But I knew then that I was going to need to be ready with […]

This moment

By Lucky Tomaszek When our babies are small, and so incredibly needy, it’s easy to say, “When she’s bigger, it’ll be easier.” And as our children get older, more independent and likely much mouthier, it’s easy to say, “I wish you were still small enough to fit into the crook of my arm. It was easier then.” The truth is that for some things, it’s easier to have a tiny baby who can’t get into any trouble. For other things, it’s easier to have an older child who can help you remember your grocery list and play outside in the afternoon. There are wonderful moments with children of all ages. The key is to find those moments and live in them. Not looking forwardThis past autumn, my son Jeffrey suffered an eye injury. The kids were playing school in the bedroom and using the fold-up music stand as a desk. It fell and poked him right in the eye. I heard him scream from my bedroom and went running. The girls were already surrounding him, trying to get a peek at the damage. “He hurt his eye, Mama.”When I bent down to look, I expected a bump, a bruise, maybe some swelling. What I saw was blood tears running down his sweet five-year-old face. I had a moment of panic as I realized that the injury was worse than I had envisioned. He couldn’t open the injured eye and was in a lot of pain. Immediately, I flashed on the image of him permanently blind and perhaps patched for the rest of his life. I could hear the stories from future Thanksgiving dinners, “Yeah, Uncle Jeff had perfect vision until he was five…” Pushing these thoughts out of my head, I picked him up and headed out to the ER. A thorough exam showed that he had sustained two injuries, one inside his eyelid and the other across his cornea, costing him about 95�f his vision in that eye. The doctors said it would get better. Eyes heal very quickly and they were pretty confident that his vision would restore itself as the wound closed. We dosed him up with ibuprophen and brought him home.As he lay across my lap on the sofa, finally sleeping after his ordeal, I was grateful for the peace around us. His breathing slowed to match mine and his sweet, sweaty little body was pushed in close to me. Relieved by the news from the doctor, I remembered my earlier worry that he would be permanently blind after the accident. If it had happened, we would have all adjusted. Jeffrey is a good-natured kid, and he would have come through it just fine. But our lives would have changed in a very real way. Remembering my promiseIn that moment, I renewed the vow I made to myself years ago. I was going to try harder to recognize the importance of every day I spend with my kids. This is so important to me, as a […]

By Lucky Tomaszek When I mention I’m a writer, I find that lots of people have a novel brewing in the back of their heads. They’ve been picking at it for years, sometimes; waiting for the time, the talent or the wherewithal to sit down and commit it to paper. Some have well thought-out plot lines and characters, while others have a rough idea of what they want to say and how they want to say it. But regardless of where they are in the internal planning stage, most shrug it off as another thing they’ll probably never do. I am one of these people! Or, at least, I was. I’ve been writing this column for over two and a half years. Additionally, I’ve written articles for professional journals and some short stories for myself and my friends. But a whole novel? What an overwhelming concept! I have kids and work and volunteer responsibilities. Would I have enough to say? And what would I do with it if I ever did manage to finish it? Building character.About a year ago, I overheard an offhand comment while I was sitting at Bremen Café. And in that one comment the idea for an entire book sprang into my mind. I tried to give the idea away to several other writers, and even an independent filmmaker friend. I tried to push it down and out of my head, but it kept percolating. Still, it wasn’t something I was willing to take on myself. I had an image in my mind of stacks and stacks of dusty, unfinished manuscripts littering my little flat, serving as another reminder that I sometimes have a hard time finishing what I’ve started. Then I heard about NaNoWriMo. It’s short for National Novel Writing Month and it happens every November. Last year about 42,000 people sat down with the goal of writing 50,000 words in thirty days; approximately 6,000 of them succeeded. The NaNo participants I met online said it was one of the most rewarding writing experiences of their lives. They had to push through all their own hang-ups and just write. Edit later, fret and panic later; write NOW! The support of writing with a group of people helped, too. The idea appealed to me. It had two of my best enticements to productivity; a firm deadline and social activity. I was nervous because November is always hectic, but every other month is really just as crazy when you look closely. Fifty thousand words seems like a lot to pound out in a month, but when I broke it down it was really 1,667 words per day. That didn’t sound so bad. I considered it for several months, worried about the toll it would take on my family life. When I’m on a writing tear I can get pretty focused on my keyboard. My kids aren’t babies anymore at five, seven and ten, but they’re young enough to need my attention for a large portion of every […]

Read To Me!

By Lucky Tomaszek Since 1919, educators, librarians, booksellers and families have celebrated Children’s Book Week during the week before Thanksgiving. Founder Frederich Melcher believed “Book Week brings us together to talk about books and reading and … to put the cause of children’s reading squarely before the whole community and across the whole nation. For a great nation is a reading nation.” This year, Children’s Book Week is November 14 through 20. Families, schools and libraries all over the country will have the opportunity to relive their favorite children’s stories. There will be book signings, author lunches, receptions, read-a-long parties and other wonderful literary happenings. In our home, we have some children’s books that we continuously pull out. These are the books I buy for other people’s children as well, to share the love we feel for these stories. Family FavoritesOn the whole, our favorite Tomaszek family book has to be Alexander and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day, written by Judith Viorst and illustrated by Ray Cruz. We follow Alexander, the youngest in his family, through the typical trials and tribulations of a kindergartener, watching him struggle with all the same things that affect each of us. The book ends with Alexander going to bed, hoping things will be better tomorrow. We love this book for its realism and honesty. My children all pick it over and over. Another family favorite is Dr. Seuss’ My Many Colored Days. This beautiful book was released posthumously and is quite different from most of his more well-known stories. Instead of the usual delightful rollicking rhymes, this book shows us in simple language that it’s normal and even good to experience a range of emotions. The illustrations (by Steve Johnson and Lou Fancher) are wonderful as well, and draw in readers (and listeners) of any age. Of course, Dr. Seuss has so many great books, it’s hard to only talk about one. Great Day for Up is a wonderful, fast paced rhyming story about the joys of waking up in the morning. Did I Ever Tell You How Lucky You Are has some of the best Seussian passages ever written. I received it as a child, and my older sister and I can still recite most of the book from memory! For bedtime stories, we come back again and again to Jean Marzollo’s Close Your Eyes. With a slow and melodic meter, the lilting text relaxes everyone and helps sleepy eyes close. But the words only tell half of the story here; there is an entire subtext beautifully illustrated by Susan Jeffers about a father and his efforts to get his young son ready for bed. I have given each of my children a copy of On the Day You Were Born, written and illustrated by Debra Frazier, on his or her first birthday. The powerful prose introduces the concept of being part of the circle of life, including the following: “On the day you were born the Earth turned, the […]

Girls’ Night Out

By Lucky Tomaszek I think I’ve mentioned before that I love the Indigo Girls. L-o-v-e them. Can’t quite get enough, actually. As a result, their music plays in our house on an almost daily basis. I have all of their CDs, as well as a bunch of live stuff that I’ve downloaded (legally). I cook to the Girls, I clean to them, I read to them, I write to them. It’s the background music of my life. My children share my love of the Girls, but probably because it’s the music they’re familiar with. Just as I know and love every word to the Jesus Christ Superstar soundtrack and all the songs on Buffy Saint Marie’s Great Hits because my mom played those two albums almost endless for years. I’ve seen the Girls perform live about 10 times. I try to make the show every time they’re in the area, and every time I come away from the concert feeling all full of love and other good stuff. Well … OK.Back in 2003, my oldest daughter Lena (then seven years old) asked if she could join me for a show. I hemmed and hawed about it. Was a concert at the Riverside appropriate for a seven year-old? Would she talk through it? Did I want to give up one of my rare chances for a kid-free evening? In the end, we ended-up with an extra ticket and I decided to give it a shot. I have good kids; they’re well-behaved and have a deep appreciation for music. Rehearsing for the show.The 24 hours before the concert, Lena played all the Indigo Girls music in the house. She wanted to be able to “sing along,” she said. She danced around the dining room where my little CD player was and practiced singing until she knew all the words. She asked me what she should wear. And then she asked her dad, her Auntie Jon and my best friend Becca. When it was time to go, she was ready, a little heady from the excitement [Ed. Note: she was hyper. But very cute. Jon Anne, a.k.a. Auntie Jon], but ready. The night of the show was freezing, with wind whipping up Wisconsin Avenue and burning our fingers and cheeks as we walked the four blocks from our car. Lena trudged along cheerfully next to us, not even complaining about the cold as much as we grown-ups. When we got inside and went to find our seats, there was the unmistakable stench of vomit. Someone had thrown up in the aisle we had to walk down. Lena picked her way around it, with just one question. “Mama? Does that happen at a lot of concerts?” Our seats were excellent, 5th row, Emily side (meaning we were to the right of the center of the stage). Lena was glad that we were on “Emily side” because Emily’s her favorite. We sat and chatted ‘til the lights went down and then Lena took my hand […]

Road Tripping with the Family

By Lucky Tomaszek When I was little, long car rides inevitably led to boredom and carsickness. A few road trips gone very bad as a teenager (can you say engine fire?) sealed my already brewing dislike for automobile travel. But after moving the kids two states away from home, I was forced to reconsider my position – the children need to see family and friends back home. I dreaded that first big trip when Jeffrey, our youngest, was just six weeks old. Three kids (two still in diapers) in the car for a seven-hour trip did not sound like a good time. I tried to plan ahead and be prepared for every possible surprise. Of course, I missed a few unforeseeable events as I was overfilling our mini-van with things we didn’t really need. In the end, we learned lessons as a family that are still helpful four years later. All new road rules.One of the best lessons I learned was from my stepdad. An out-of-state birthday party impelled the kids and me to travel, with my parents, for hours in a big Chevy Suburban. My deep-seated dread of family car trips had typically led me to push through every journey as fast and as hard as possible. Not so when we traveled with Grandpa Kenny. He was very patient, and at pit stops, would even encourage the kids to run and play a little. Every time I would bring up the time or fret about being late, he would remind me that the kids were little and needed some fresh air. Not surprisingly, the kids managed that trip better than any we had ever taken. Another thing I learned on that trip was the joy of car games. As an adult, my desire was to put on some music and tune out for the ride, but child travelers need some interaction to pass the time. Scratch that – children need a lot of interaction to survive the monotony of a long drive. We usually start each trip by playing games and singing songs. After a couple of hours, the kids are bored and ready for some quiet down time. At that point, when the kids settle down and doze off, I can put on my favorite music and watch the road go by. Comfort is imperative when spending many hours in a confined space. We always make sure to have a blanket in the car for each child. One year, my best friend made all the kids quilts for their birthdays. They are a little bigger than a baby blanket and not very heavy, making them perfect for road trips. Dressing the kids comfortably is just as important. Sweat pants and t-shirts are all kids need to wear. Everyone seems cheerier when not so bundled that they can’t move. But for winter trips we always have coats, hats and mittens close by in case of an emergency. The way to their hearts…Perhaps the most important single decision is what […]

Coral Slavin’s Labor of Love

By Lucky Tomaszek Coral Slavin lovingly rubs the laboring woman’s back and says, “Remember, when it’s this hard, it’s because it’s almost over. This is the hardest part.”  The woman’s contraction ends and her eyes close as she drifts into a doze that will last approximately 45 seconds before the next contraction comes. It’s 2 a.m. and Coral has been with this family all night. She is understandably tired, but obviously content to be right where she is. Coral has been attending births as a doula since 1996 and has, to date, witnessed about 150 babies being born. But she didn’t start out as a professional labor assistant, supporting women during their births. Coral holds a doctorate in Stress Management and spent years counseling people with chronic pain conditions using biofeedback and relaxation techniques. She was also a full-time grant writer for HIV/AIDS education and intervention. Her path began to shift 16 years ago with the birth of her first child, Robert. During her pregnancy, she read a lot of books about natural childbirth and became dedicated to giving birth without pain medication. But she was alone and unsupported during her labor and ended up asking for an epidural. She had a healthy baby, but always felt like her labor and delivery experience could have been different. Later she realized that the tools she used to help others with their pain could have helped her. When she got pregnant again eight years later, she took Bradley® childbirth education classes, which emphasize natural childbirth and teamwork between the mom and dad. This started her down a new career path. NEW LIFE SPURS NEWDIRECTION. After her second baby was born, Coral began training as a Bradley® childbirth educator and was soon attending births as an assistant for her students. She knew that she become a better teacher if she witnessed at least a few births. What she didn’t expect was how quickly this experience would become a part of who she was. “Once you’ve assisted at your first birth and you feel like you had some impact on improving the outcome, it becomes a passion” says Coral. “There are so many ways you can help a family when they’re expecting a baby, especially a first baby.” This belief led her to expand her services a little at a time. Her next step was to start and facilitate parenting groups, and that’s when the real questions began to form in her mind. “We (childbirth educators) do all of this work helping families get ready for the baby and give birth, but then we pat them on the head and send them home from the hospital with a wave and a ‘good luck!’” Coral believes early parenting is an important and fragile period in parents’ lives. Several years ago, a newly postpartum client of hers struggled with depression and committed suicide when her baby was just three months old. Coral was already a dedicated and passionate educator and doula, but the death made her […]

The New and Improved Holiday Letter

By Lucky Tomaszek I remember opening Christmas cards as a teenager and being frustrated by the ever-growing number of holiday letters. You’ve probably received at least one yourself. They’re the form letters that run down the year in review on behalf of the sender. At that point in my life, I was only responsible for myself and the demands on my time were few. I was also a budding writer, in love with language and looking for any excuse to fill page after page with my every thought and feeling. I felt almost superior sending out my Christmas cards, lovingly scribed by hand. No form letters for me! Then I got married and had a baby. The first year after Lena was born, I picked out beautiful cards and matching lined stationary so I could sit and write letters to everyone on my list about my little girl and the progress of the restoration of our 1880’s Victorian home. I got two of them done. Nine years later, the box of cards is still in with my wrapping paper collection. The next year I did a little better. I actually signed the cards and mailed about half of them, but there was no personal note inside. I felt bad. My family and friends had spread across the country and I had become lax with my correspondence. As the New Year rolled by, I considered writing a holiday letter for the next year. The First Time. My first Tomaszek Family Holiday Letter was a pitiful attempt at communication. I simply couldn’t figure out how to sum up the previous year of our life in an interesting way. I think I managed to squeeze out about three paragraphs on snow-man paper. In a desperate attempt to spice it up a little, I decorated the envelopes and included Lena’s most recent photo. By the following year, Emma had joined our family and we had lots more to talk about. We also had great pictures of the girls wearing their pretty red dresses. Lena, now three, helped me decorate the envelopes that year.  It was a great success. People actually took the time to call me and say how much they liked having something homemade included with the letter. Well, that sealed it for me! If people liked homemade things, we could do that! I quickly developed a little routine for putting together our holiday letters that has lasted several years now. It’s not too difficult and our extended family loves getting them. Making It Special. I start by finding a box of very basic holiday cards. I’m always careful not to buy anything that mentions Christmas specifically and I tend to lean toward something with a brief message about peace. I like to get a package of holiday-themed paper as well, and can almost always find something at a dollar store. We all sign the card by hand and then I type up the big letter, which follows the cosmically-developed format utilized universally. We also […]

Teaching Tolerance

By Lucky Tomaszek Children begin noticing differences in people at a very early age, just as they notice different colors of crayons, or a goat from a lamb at the petting zoo. Often they make “judgments” like “I like the red one better.” Sometimes they merely repeat something they have heard like “goats are so ugly.”  But when these judgments are extended to people, it is difficult and often shocking to parents who strive to teach their children to respect others. I work very hard to teach my children tolerance. I know I’m not alone in this. My sisters and close friends are doing the same thing and it’s inspiring to see us all work toward the same goals. There are times, though, when I realize that teaching tolerance is not a one-time only lesson. This became painfully obvious to me this summer. My best friend and I took all six of our kids to Menomonie for a family vacation. We have dear friends who live there, a lesbian couple and their ten kids, six of whom are teenagers. Our friends Melissa and Mandy lead the local GLBT teen group in the area, so the house is typically full of lots of teenagers. Kids say the darndest things… gulp! A house full of gay, lesbian, and bisexual teenagers tested my children’s ability to accept people who are different than those in their immediate family. My kids got to see their first Mohawk up close, hear different kinds of music, and learn some interesting slang terms. Multiple, visible body piercings were also a source of endless intrigue for my little ones. Then there were the less visible, but more profound differences. My friends’ home represents a refuge for these adolescents, a place where they can be themselves and hold hands with their same-sex partners without recrimination. It’s not uncommon to stumble across a pair of them in a warm welcoming embrace or sneaking a good-bye kiss behind the garage. For all six of our little kids, this was new. My best friend and I have both been active with the Human Right Coalition and their work to grant same-sex marriage rights in our country, so our children know a little about homosexuality and the GBLT community. But seeing it was very different. One evening, our friends’ 15-year-old daughter was saying goodnight to her girlfriend. They had ducked into a hallway for a moment of quiet and a quick g’night kiss when one of our little ones came out of the bathroom and saw them. She stood there stunned and said, “Did you just KISS her?” The couple smiled and nodded. The little girl looked amazed and said, “That is so GAY!” Fortunately, all of the big kids at Melissa and Mandy’s house are good-natured and were happy to spend a few minutes talking to our little kids about the fact that it’s okay to be gay. And that it’s important to be whatever you really are inside. Our children asked some […]

FluMist

By Lucky Tomaszek Many people are relieved to hear about the new FluMist vaccine. No one likes needles, and it seems the makers of FluMist are counting on that fact to convince consumers to buy. FluMist is the first influenza vaccine that is not a shot. It’s a nasal spray. One good dose up the nose and you’re protected for the whole winter. Or are you? Traditional flu shots are made from killed influenza virus, which cannot cause a case of influenza in either the recipient or anyone who comes in contact with the recipient. Killed viruses are considered safer, though shorter acting. In the case of the flu shot, this is not a disadvantage, because protection only needs to last for a year. By the following year, a new flu shot is available that is intended for whichever influenza strain is most prevalent. FluMist is a lot different from its first cousin, the annual flu shot. For starters, it’s not intended for use by the people who are normally urged to receive a flu vaccine, the elderly and the immuno-compromised. FluMist is being marketed for healthy people ages 5 to 49. That’s because it’s made from the live influenza virus, which could be harmful if given to someone who isn’t completely in the pink. Should you take it up the nose? As a matter of fact, the list of people who should not use FluMist is pretty long, and includes: toddlers; the elderly; anyone with eczema or asthma; people who are allergic to eggs; children and adolescents receiving aspirin therapy; people who have a history of Guillain-Barré syndrome; pregnant women, people with reactive airways disease, people on corticosteroids like Prednisone®, Medrol®; and obviously immuno-compomised people like cancer patients, people with HIV or AIDS, and organ recipients. There is additional concern about the FluMist vaccine precisely because it’s a nasal spray rather than an injection. Most people who have ever needed to take a nasal spray medication can tell you that it often leads to sneezing, sometimes repeated sneezing. When you’ve sprayed a live vaccine up your nose and you sneeze, the live vaccine is shot across the room at 100 miles per hour. This can be troublesome for anyone, but especially so for small children in school and people living with immuno-compromised family members. Dr. Sherri Tenpenny, D.O., President and Medical Director of the OsteoMed II clinic in Strongsville, Ohio, shares this concern: “One of the most troubling concerns over [FluMist] is the potential for the viruses to enter directly into the brain… The olfactory tract has long been recognized as a direct pathway to the brain. Intranasal injection of certain viruses has resulted in a serious brain infection called encephalitis… Time will tell whether the live viruses in FluMist will become linked to cases of encephalitis.” IF IT WALKS AND TALKS LIKE A DUCK… The reported side effects of the vaccine are also interesting to note. According to the FluMist package insert, 72�f adult recipients reported side effects […]

Living Without Santa

By Lucky Tomaszek One night in December of 1978, when I was 6 years old, I stayed up very late watching a toy drive on TV. As I gazed longingly at all the dolls and drums and toy trains piled up for needy children, the host announced the arrival of Santa Claus — he was coming to pick up the toys! I was so excited that I sat straight up on the couch to get a better look. “Ho Ho Ho!” shouted a deep voice, and I got goosebumps. I could hear him stomping onto the set and suddenly, there he was! He was tall and round, dressed in a red velvet suit with black boots. And he was African American. I watched in bewilderment as this jolly Santa picked up the collected toys and thanked the viewing audience for their generosity. The Truth comes out. The next morning, I had a million questions for my mom about the toy drive. I started with questions about the toys I had seen and who would be getting them. Then I said, “Why was Santa on TV black, and Santa at the mall white? How can he change his skin like that?” Then and there, she told me the whole truth, straight out, with no holds barred. I was devastated. I felt like the adults were pulling off the biggest conspiracy ever. I told my mom I needed to get to school right away and tell all of my friends The Truth. We were being lied to, and it had to stop. Mom explained that I really shouldn’t tell the other kids, as it would make them sad. I didn’t understand it — I was taught not to lie. And in our radical house, I was also taught to stand up for injustice and help others in need. In my kindergarten mind, explaining The Truth to all of the other kids was merely fulfilling what I was already seeing as my role in life. Despite her advice, my mom was called to pick me up early that day, but not until I’d broken the hearts of four or five of my classmates. The true meaning of Santa. As I started planning my own family, I knew I wanted Christmas in my house to be different from what I felt it had become for most Americans. At the time, I was in the middle of spiritual crisis, unsure of my beliefs regarding Christianity and the role of the holiday in our culture. As a long-time retail professional, I detested the shopping and the spending and the consuming. But I didn’t have my own set of beliefs around which to build a “new” holiday celebration. I was a little lost. My first baby was born in July of 1995 and I spent the next 5 months pondering how I was going to present Christmas to her. My husband and I exhaustively discussed the holiday and what message we really wanted her to take with […]

Halloween Costumes

By Lucky Tomaszek I have always loved Halloween. As a girl, I remember that the costumes in our family were consistently fun and well thought-out. We lived in a small town, so the treats from Beggar’s Night were tasty and plentiful. In addition to timeless favorites like Bit O’ Honeys and mini candy bars, lots of families prepared (and we were allowed to eat) caramel apples, popcorn balls and cookies. And, as my birthday falls the day before Halloween, we typically had a fun party that revolved around costumes and Trick or Treating. My mother has a long history with the theater (and drama of all sorts). She would spend lots of time with us helping put together great costumes. There was never a lot of money to spend on those things, but it seemed like she whipped up creative, even amazing characters for us out of scraps, cheap makeup and determination. It always made me feel so good to show up at the school Halloween party with the best costume. My love of Halloween has continued into my adult life, and now I get to share it with my kids. Following in my mother’s footsteps, I look forward every year to helping my children create one of a kind costumes. Kids love to dress up, and with a little effort, you can take store-bought costumes, street clothes, or footie pajamas and make them feel like they are the best dressed Trick or Treater on the block. And when you do it yourself, you’re only limited by imagination. In addition to traditional fabric stores, places like Drew’s in Wauwatosa, Michael’s and even Wal Mart sell craft materials like fabric, feathers, beads, paint and felt. Grease paint makeup can be had at any Walgreen’s, Target, or other discount store. And if you need at least one major prop, head for a Bartz’s, Toys R Us, or one of the many Halloween specialty stores that crop up this time of year. Personally, I like American Science and Surplus. They have strange and wonderful junk all year, and there are lots of things available that make a kid’s costume truly unique, from squeaking dinosaur tails to glow sticks and dry ice packets. It’s amazing how cheaply you can sew (or glue) some felt onto a sweat suit and end up with a warm and original costume that will thrill your children and dazzle your neighbors. To allow your kids to be able to Trick or Treat without covering their costume with a coat, buy everything a little big and wear lots of layers underneath. My kids have gone out with two pairs of tights, leggings, a t-shirt, a turtleneck, socks and mittens underneath their costumes on extra cold Halloween nights, and have fared very well. Kids feel good when they look spooky or scary or beautiful. And they feel even better when they and their parents take the time and the effort to create a truly unique costume. There are plenty of good […]

The First Day of School

By Lucky Tomaszek My middle child, Emma, starts kindergarten this month. Like all parents, I find it hard to believe that this baby is ready for such a large endeavor. She is a smart, beautiful and creative five year old who truly seems ready for a slightly more structured learning environment. Emma has already learned so much. She is just starting to read and loves to add single digit numbers. She can tell you anything about bugs and loves art. She knows the colors of the rainbow and is borderline obsessed with putting all of her toys in ROYGBIV order. And she is craving more! When I sent my older child Lena to public school for the first time (albeit briefly, as it turned out), we made a big deal out of the day. She got a new dress to wear, with nice shoes and a new headband. She took a long bath the night before and I spent extra time and care combing her hair and trimming her nails. In the morning she jumped out of bed, excited to start on this new adventure. I helped her dress and gave her a necklace to wear to school, so she’d have something to hold on to if the day seemed hard. Of course we took pictures, lots of pictures of Lena’s first day of school. Eventually, group schooling didn’t work out for our family and I brought her home to start homeschooling. As I am getting ready to homeschool Emma, I think back on that other first day of school warmly. It was fun to shop with Lena and buy her first day of school dress. It was wonderful to spend the extra time with her the night before the big day. And the look on her face when I gave her the necklace was priceless. It was clear to both of us that she was growing up, and this first day of school was a rite of passage. These rituals of dressing up and taking pictures mean a lot to families. They make a special occasion out of these important events. Rituals like this show your kids that you know they’re ready to take this next big step and you believe they can succeed. All of this helps your child feel like a valued member of the family and increases their self-confidence at a time when kids are nervous and scared about trying something new. I want to make Emma’s entry to homeschool kindergarten just as special as Lena’s entry to public kindergarten. Emma is emotionally and developmentally ready to take the next step with more a formalized learning environment, and that step should be marked. We have decided that we will dress up in first day of school clothes and take pictures. We will break out our new school books for the first time and do a little lesson, and then we’re going to celebrate Emma’s entrance to kindergarten with a picnic at a local park. I hope […]

Breast is not "best." It’s standard.

By Lucky Tomaszek The first week in August is World Breastfeeding Week, and several international organizations invest lots of time and money into raising the world community’s understanding of the importance of breastfeeding for mothers and babies all over the globe. The decision of how to feed your baby is a deeply personal one, and often starts heated debates. It’s one of the first decisions you will make for your baby and it’s one that most expectant moms spend quite a bit of time reading and thinking about. I want to be clear that it’s not ever my intention to hurt the feelings of any other mother out there, or to anger anyone who has made different choices. I hold the firm belief in my heart that each mother has made the best decision possible for her child with the information she had at the time and based on what she feels will work best for her and her family. Not “best,” standard. The statement “breast is best” is one we’ve all heard for years. It’s in every parenting book, every magazine article about infant feeding and every commercial for baby formula. It’s often accompanied by the statement, “breast milk is a perfect food.” These are very drastic overstatements of fact. I’m going to let you in on a little secret: Breast isn’t best, it’s standard. We were designed as a species to feed our young milk from our breasts. It’s how we got our name, Mammal, from the mammary glands. There are other unique things about Mammals we could have been named for. For instance, we are the only species with hair, and the only species that gives birth to live babies. But it’s our mammaries for which we’re famous. That’s because universally, mammals nourish their babies with breast milk. When you say “breast is best” or “breast milk is a perfect food,” it leaves a lot of room for other things to be good or even great, because perfection is an unobtainable goal. Everyone knows the saying, ‘nobody’s perfect.’ But when we are honest and we say that breast milk is the standard food, it becomes obvious that artificial baby milk is substandard. It’s perfectly logical. The same logic follows for the other benefits of breastfeeding. We are often told that breastfed babies are healthier than their formula fed counterparts. This is another statement that should be turned around. If breastfeeding is the standard, then the babies who are breastfed are not healthier, but simply the standard of health. And so it follows that their formula-fed counterparts (like me) are not as healthy. Think of other, similar statements we hear all the time. Breastfed babies are smarter, talk earlier, need less orthodontic work and have fewer allergies. The list goes on. The logic is easy to follow. Obviously, breastfeeding is not just the standard for babies, but for their mothers as well. We have seen a marked increase in female cancers, heart disease in women, and osteoporosis since […]

Parenting Freedoms

By Lucky Tomaszek Let Freedom Ring Having lived in a couple of different states before moving to Wisconsin, and having made lots of cyber-friends from all over the country, I can tell you that we live in a pretty good place for parenting freedoms. This state truly seems to trust parents here to make the best decisions for their children. However, under our current presidential administration, things are changing around the country. Parents need to be watchful, keeping an eye on what’s going on in the world of parenting politics. Consumer activism is the most powerful tool in America for maintaining or changing the status quo. Freedom in birth Wisconsin’s laws about homebirth and traditional homebirth midwifery are conveniently vague. The law does not discuss homebirth. The law also does not address non-nurse midwifery. The absence of mention of these subjects make Wisconsin an alegal (or gray) state for people who want to give birth at home with a non-nurse midwife. Right now, that’s very nice for the home birthing community. The state knows that families are choosing homebirth and that traditional midwives are attending. Midwives receive birth certificate forms from the state and sign them. Midwives also advertise openly here, in newspapers, magazines and even the phone book. Unfortunately, it’s always possible for this to change. Because traditional homebirth midwifery is not protected by law, it would be very easy for the pendulum to swing the other way, as it has in Illinois. Twenty years ago, Illinois had an active homebirth midwifery community, and now, due to the state re-interpreting the Nurse Practice Act, there are approximately five non-nurse midwives practicing in the state. Similar to our lack of regulation regarding traditional homebirth midwives, Wisconsin also has no laws on the books regarding freestanding Birth Centers. Currently, there is only one freestanding Birth Center in the state, located in Madison. The Certified Nurse Midwives who are running the Birth Center are putting together legislation in the hopes of regulation and thus, protection from being closed down, if the law is re-interpreted as it was with homebirth midwifery in Illinois. There are some murmurings of a freestanding Birth Center opening in the Milwaukee are in the next two or three months. But the woman who is working on this wants to see how it goes in Madison and lend her hand to legislative efforts before dedicating her heart and soul (and hundreds of thousands of dollars) to a project that could be washed up by a change of spirit in the Wisconsin legislature. Freedom to vaccinate (or not) Most people vaccinate their kids automatically, out of a desire to protect their children from illness and disease. But vaccination is a deeply personal decision that should be made by people who have chosen to become truly informed about the benefits and risks. Both the pro- and anti- vaccination camps have compelling evidence to support their claims, and both have some truly inspiring things to say about the rightness of their own […]

The Slightly Crunchy Dad

By Lucky Tomaszek My husband loves our kids, and he loves being a dad. From the moment our first child was born, he was a changed man. He is as crunchy as I am, even if he doesn’t like to admit it. The funny thing is, he doesn’t look crunchy. Allen is a former Marine who never grew his hair out when his tour was over. He’s spent almost a decade working a corporate job and he fits the fashion mold; twill pants, polo shirts and dress shoes. He drives a late model car and has learned to golf. He certainly wasn’t raised crunchy. He was a fairly typical latchkey kid with parents who worked outside the home. In honor of Father’s Day, I spent some time talking to a couple of slightly crunchy dads, getting their perspective on parenting. Sometimes it seems like dads are just along for the ride. I must say there are times when I feel like Allen is just going along with my desires to keep the peace. But the time I spent talking to him and to Matt, dad to 3 year-old Maddie and new baby Ellie, made it clear that they support what we do. What kind of dad did you think you’d be? The first thing I ask Allen is something I’ve wanted to know for a long time: What kind of dad did he think he would be before he had kids? His answer: “I didn’t really think about it. I’m a typical guy, I thought about how I was going to support the family rather than the day to day raising of the kids.” Well, that’s not quite what I was looking for, but it seems to be the norm. Many apparently don’t spend hours reading, researching and fantasizing during pregnancy like women tend to do. I asked Matt the same question. He replied, “When we were expecting Maddie, I thought we’d be typical. We’d go to the hospital and have the baby. And then we’d come home and have months of getting up several times a night to feed the baby a bottle. You have to watch them and keep them safe all the time, and I expected that. But this is a lot easier than I expected parenting to be.” Co-sleeping keeps dads close. Matt goes on to share a little of his story with me. “We had a bad birth experience in the hospital and my wife was pretty upset by it. We started sleeping with Maddie as soon as we came home from the hospital, mostly because it made breastfeeding easier. The bottles went right out the window, because breastfeeding became so important to her after the disappointment of the birth. Anyway, we’ve been doing it so long, I wouldn’t want to do it any other way now. It’s adorable to wake up next to her.” Allen agrees with Matt’s last statement about waking up next to the kids. It makes the occasional tough co-sleeping night […]

Who’s Your Mama

By Lucky Tomaszek Here it is, finally. Spring! The warm weather is calling my family outdoors, into the warmth and sunshine. I am particularly fond of the month of May, which brings several family birthdays and my wedding anniversary with it. I feel surrounded by the love of my children and my husband as the days get longer and we celebrate the new life all around us. Mother’s Day also falls in May. Families nationwide celebrate the love and care mothers give their children. It also happens to be the busiest long distance phone calling and flower delivery day of the year. Most everyone sends mini-love letters tucked into the floral arrangement for Mom. The packages come from all over the country and most arrive on time. Think about this phenomenon for a moment. While I think it’s wonderful that we are all so appreciative of our mothers, I find it a little sad that we are so far away from them. As a nation, we are separated from our immediate families in a way that has never before been so complete. In the not too distant past, most of us would have said Happy Mother’s Day over coffee in the family kitchen or given Mom a corsage and a warm hug before Sunday dinner. Unfortunately, our society is now structured in such a way that it is highly unlikely we’ll get back to our multigenerational roots anytime in the foreseeable future. So many women to celebrate in May So I think it’s no coincidence that in May, with many of us being deprived of the close physical presence of the women in our family, we also pay to tribute to some health care workers who devote themselves to helping women. National Midwives’ Day is May 5th, Nurse’s Day is May 6th, and doulas around the country spend the entire month celebrating Doula Month. Midwives, nurses and doulas are all very dear to me, as each has played a vital role in my life, and in the lives of most of the mothers I know. The midwife attends the expecting mother through her pregnancy and birth. She is a calming presence, offering reassuring and practical advice. Midwives spend time listening to each question and sharing information. They become emotionally vested in both the physical and emotional well being of their pregnant clients. While the midwife is a highly-trained health care provider specializing in normal birth, a lot of what she does used to be done by the expectant woman’s own mother or auntie. In the same vein, the doula has surfaced in this country and around the world as a key figure in the early days of motherhood. Some doulas work with pregnant women and attend births as a key support figure. Birth doulas answer questions during pregnancy and help mothers know what to expect during birth. They are a continuous nurturing presence that women find very important. Postpartum doulas come in to the home just after the baby is […]

The Homeschool Choice

By Lucky Tomaszek “Where do your kids go to school?” “Well, actually, we homeschool,” I answer a little hesitantly. “I really like being with my kids, and homeschooling works well for our family…” I’m trying to be PC, trying not to start another controversial discussion with this well-meaning woman at Chuck E Cheese. But after letting that last sentence trail off, the silence thickens. And I realize that there is more I would like to say. I want to tell her that I have been teaching my children since the day they were born. I know them better anyone else, and know how each of them learns. I am intimately aware of their strengths and weaknesses and I know how to push them a little farther, without pushing them so far that learning becomes a chore. But it seems my opportunity has passed as we both go back to laughing at the antics of our children ascending into neon colored tubes and dropping into the ball pit. After several minutes, she says… “No offense, but why would you want to do that?” To start with, my interest was piqued when a homeschooled child won the National Spelling Bee in 1997, and again when first, second, and third place were all won by homeschooled children in 2000. And a little later in 2000 I read an article by Helen Cordes that said that homeschooled children are accepted to Stanford at “twice the rate of conventional schoolers.” I did a little more research and discovered that the average homeschooler scored in the 75th percentile on the Iowa Test of Basic Skills, compared to conventional schoolers who scored in the 50 percentile. I must admit that the tragedy at Columbine High School in April 1999, and all the other shockingly similar tales weighed in to my decision making. Of course, there was also the personal journey I made as a mother. I stay home with my kids, and I have devoted a lot of time to guiding them through childhood and helping them become loving, generous, and freethinking little people. When my oldest daughter turned five, I put her into kindergarten. I had obviously thought a lot about homeschooling, but in the end I decided that it would probably be better for her if she went through conventional school. We gave it our all! We bought the cute ‘first day of school’ dress and the box of crayons. We took a lot of pictures that day, and she was adorable. The first week went well, she seemed to enjoy school and had lots of new songs and finger plays to teach us at dinner each night. The second week was a little harder. She was more reluctant to go to school in the morning, and when I picked her up after school she had less and less to say about what she was doing all day. “What did you learn today?” I would ask. “Nothing,” she would respond. The third week was worse; […]