Silicon Valley Moms Blog

We're all in this together

The other day I read something in the news that I can’t get out of my head. It was a statement made by Margaret Mizen, mother of the 16-year-old boy who was recently killed in a frenzied knife attack in broad daylight in a London bakery:

There is so much anger in this world, and it is anger that has killed my son…If I'm angry then I'm going to be just doing exactly the same as this chap. We have got to get rid of all this anger that is around.

And about the killer’s parents, she said,

What can you really say to them? You can imagine, that's their child, they held that boy in their own arms as a baby. They must be in pain. It's so painful that their child has been so cruel and so wicked.

I know that if I were in Margaret’s shoes, I would have neither the grace nor the dignity to respond this compassionately. I would be angry. And vengeful.

Shocking on So Many Levels

Any one aspect of the case of a 73-year-old Austrian man keeping his daughter prisoner in the basement for 24 years is horrifying in itself. Combined, the deception, sexual abuse, imprisonment and incest result in the most disturbing psychological horror film one would never, ever want to see.

“Chilling” is the word that comes to mind. Chilling that the despicable and callous actions of one sick, sick man can inflict such suffering on – and ultimately destroy – so many innocent lives.

When I tuck my children into bed each night, I try to imagine what it must have been like for Elisabeth – a woman not much older than me – to tuck her children into bed each night down in their cellar prison, and I simply cannot. I try to imagine what it must be like for her children, some nearly grown, to have lived their lives never having seen the sun or the outside world. I cannot.

Another Missed Opportunity

Yesterday my 7-year-old came home from school all fired up about getting on the computer to “do some Google searches.” I said that would be okay since I had some work to do in my office anyway, and could supervise him while I did my work and while my daughter played on her bed in the next room.

We went into my office, where my son pulled a piece of paper out of his book bag. Scrawled across the page were the things he wanted to do on the computer: “pull up Word,” “import photos.” Below that was a line I couldn’t read: it looked like “wake the baud.” I asked him about it and only got a mumbled response. 

But nonchalantly peering over his shoulder once he started with his Google search, I was surprised to see that he was looking up Wayne Thiebaud, the American painter who created, among other things, colorful images of ordinary objects like gumball machines, lipsticks, ice cream and cakes in northern California in the 50’s and 60’s. My son was getting thumbnails of his favorite images to put into a PowerPoint presentation he was putting together about the painter.

2008...or '1984'?

The surveillance team watched them for more than two weeks. The movements of the entire household were thoroughly documented, down to the dates and times they left the house and returned, and what time they turned their living room lights on.

Were they criminals? Drug dealers? Suspected terrorists?

No.

The Poole Borough Council in Dorset, England was covertly spying on a family with three young children to make sure they lived in the correct school catchment area.

Life-Changing Moments

Exactly one week ago, a tragic accident in my community left seven people dead and two children in the hospital fighting for their lives. A speeding car, driven by a man who at one point had his license revoked tried to overtake another car on a heavily-traveled stretch of road and collided head-on with another vehicle occupied by a family heading home in the opposite direction. The two children are the only survivors.

California and the Golden West

It's been a cold and wet winter here in the UK; this on the heels of all the flooding we had last summer has many folks here thinking of fleeing to warmer climes.

Families -- at least those who aren’t still rebuilding their homes -- are starting to plan their summer trips, so the newspapers are full of travel articles and tips on finding the perfect sun-filled holiday.

Browsing the Times recently, I came across a travel brochure for one of those companies offering escorted tours. This type of vacation holds little appeal for me; personally, the prospect of being trapped on a bus with a bunch of spot-them-from-a-mile-away tourists in hideous shirts sporting cameras and nylon fanny packs (or “bum bags” since “fanny pack” means something quite different in the UK) does not in any way, shape or form outweigh the inconvenience of actually having to plan my own vacation.

But the 15-day “California and the Golden West” tour intrigues. I get a kick out of some of the things that British people think are important to see when visiting California.

Gimme some of that Super Tuesday action!

Last Thursday as I scanned the headlines on my computer (leaving my kids to their own devices in the hour we had left before school) I was again reminded that Super Tuesday is just around the corner. I wasn’t sure if I was actually going to be able to vote this time round; being overseas I’d registered for permanent "vote-by-mail” status back in August, but hadn’t heard anything back from the Santa Clara County Registrar. In December I sent the forms in again, just in case. Now, with the big day less than a week away, I had yet to receive any sort of confirmation (or ballot!) in the mail.

I called the number listed on the Secretary of State’s website listing contact information for election officials. The folks in the Santa Clara County registrar’s office were cheery and helpful, and I was soon transferred to a friendly woman in the “absentee ballot” department.

Lessons on life and living, courtesy of my garden wall

England can be a pretty dreary place in mid-winterm compared to Silicon Valley. The sky is a constant shade of steel-grey, dampness permeates the air, and the wind makes the trek to and from school an adventure in itself. And it gets dark only an hour after we arrive home from school, although in that regard things have improved significantly compared to only a month ago.

Out in front of our house is a low wall made of stone; it sits just above waist height and is about a foot thick, providing the perfect border between our small front yard and the sidewalk.

Happy 2008 and all that

I’m not sure if there’s anything that inspires a greater number of people than the dawning of a new year. A chance to start afresh, a chance to make promises - to ourselves and others - that we may or may not keep. Eating better, exercising more and being more organized have got to be among the top ten for many people year after year after year. Just ask the folks at Jenny Craig, Gold’s Gym or Storables – they love this time of year!

Why do we torture ourselves with New Year’s resolutions? If we resolve to do something, surely we can resolve to do it ‘now’ rather than hit ourselves with a slew of new ways of eating/being/living all at once? And right after Christmas to boot.

Education (or lack thereof)

I tried to write a post about education; about how my children are doing in their second year at a British school and some of the things that worry me about not educating my children in Silicon Valley. How the Religious Education lessons here have toned down considerably now that my son no longer has an over-zealous Fundamentalist Christian teacher. How I’m already tired of the twice-weekly requests for money in some form or another (today’s was the last straw: please send a cake for next week’s bake sale and oh - please give your kids some money so they can then buy something.Why don’t I just feed my kids in my own kitchen and just write you a check, thank you very much!)

But today none of that will do.