Silicon Valley Moms Blog

The meaning of "place" in our lives

This past weekend the church building where I met my husband burned down. The fire completely gutted the building, leaving only the steeple and the outside brick wall standing. When I first heard the news of the fire, I started to cry. Which surprised me. I wondered why I reacted so emotionally to the news. 

As I thought this over, I recalled the book Recapitulation by Wallace Stegner. In the novel, the protagonist returns to his hometown after more than 50 years of being away. The book follows him through 1-2 days of driving around town and seeing old places…or, more accurately, not seeing old places. Almost all of the buildings from his memories had since been destroyed and other things built in their place. As I read that book I remember thinking to myself that all of the meaningful buildings and places in my life were still intact. Until this weekend. I think this is why I cried, because, for the first time, a significant place from my personal history is gone. 

The idea of “place” being so significant in our lives is intriguing to me. In a world of increasing mobility, “place” is ever-changing, inconstant. It’s easy to forget that certain locations do have great meaning in our lives. 

Sometimes you lose, sometimes you fail. That’s life, kid.

The rise of “No-Fail” grading systems in schools and “Everyone’s a Winner” programs in kids’ sports is strange to me. This morning I spotted the following story in one of my Google Alerts: Are 'No-Fail' Grading Systems Hurting or Helping Students?  It caught my eye because just a few days ago a group of moms and I were discussing this very topic at the park.

My friend Michelle’s son’s little league team gives trophies to all the kids, no matter what.  But does that render a trophy meaningless?  And Michelle's neighbor always ensures that when her kids play games, no one ever loses.  Another mom at the park mentioned that her sister never uses the word “No” with her kids.  Ever.  She and her husband come up with creative ways to avoid ever saying the word, such as providing alternative choices and using distraction.  When I saw the article this morning describing “No-Fail” grading systems, it got me thinking even more on the topic.

I can’t help but wonder, are we raising a generation of kids who are too protected from failure or being told "No"?  Are we doing children and teenagers a disservice by lowering standards and giving too many second chances?

One Treat Too Many?

After meeting some friends for lunch today, we stopped by Kepler’s bookstore to let the kids play in the children’s section.  Lunch was lovely and the bookstore was fun...until my 4-year-old decided she really had to have some princess coloring books.

I was planning on buying a few books for her, including three books on manners, ironically enough.  According to my daughter, I had not selected the correct books.  She flipped out.  Started crying.  Wailing about how she had to have the Aurora and Barbie coloring books.  How she didn’t want the books I had chosen.  This went on for a good 10 minutes and all the way out of the store.

When I die, please don’t text message the news!

A friend of mine was recounting her mother-in-law’s oftentimes inappropriate use of text messaging.  The latest?  Aunt Milly was very sick.  My friend’s mother-in-law was keeping her family in the loop with group text messages.  Message #1: “Milly is dying. Funeral Friday.” (Yes, Milly was in fact still alive when this text was sent.)  Message #2, sent a few hours later: “She’s gone.”

That’s right, folks, she’s gone.  Not 'gone' to the store.  Not 'gone' on a walk without leaving a note.  Milly has actually died and her nieces and nephews found out real time via text message.  Thank goodness for the speed and convenience of text messaging!  I’m certain no one would have wanted to hear the news of dear Auntie Milly’s demise on a clumsy, time-consuming phone call.

Seriously, when I die, please don’t send a text message to make the announcement.  Pretty please? 

How to be a Mommy AND a Yogi

I used to do yoga several times a week. I loved it.  I haven’t done it since I was 7 months pregnant, which was a good 16 months ago.  Today I decided to get back into my yoga groove.  My 1-year-old was down for a nap, and I figured my 4-year-old would have fun trying to do yoga with me. So I got dressed, pulled out the mat and turned on one of my yoga videos.

As soon as I sat down, the 1-year-old woke up from her nap.  Of course.  I got her out of bed and thought, “Yoga is about focus.  I’ll just focus on my practice.  Pretend the 1-year-old is a little fly in the room that I need to ignore.”  I hit play on the video once again.  As soon as I closed my eyes to center myself, the “fly” was climbing on my lap and playing with the little sequins on my super-cute yoga shirt. At this point I’m still thinking I can just ignore her.  And my 4-year-old was still in it with me, breathing deeply, which was completely adorable.

Then it was time to get on my back and do some stomach exercises.

Hugh Grant is following me on Twitter

Hugh Grant is following ME on Twitter.  Yes, that Hugh Grant.  “Actor/Writer/Producer/baked bean thrower.” Okay, so maybe it’s not really Hugh Grant.  But maybe it is and he just couldn’t resist my adorable face and quirky food-related tweets. 

So, now, the real question.  Should I follow Hugh Grant back?  I think the answer is NO for several reasons. If it really is Hugh Grant, there is something very satisfying about knowing that Hugh is following me...and I’m not following him.  Who ever saw that coming?  If it’s Hugh Grant’s publicist, well, I don’t want to give him/her the satisfaction of adding more followers to Hugh’s list.  If it’s just some weirdo trying to get followers, well, I don’t want to be following that guy.  And if it’s my husband playing a trick on me, I definitely don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I fell for it.

Which brings us to the real, REAL question.  Who are the people behind all the Twitter IDs on my “following” list? 

Michelle Obama, More Than Just a Pretty Face

I just finished watching today’s historic inauguration.  It was inspiring, hopeful and just plain cool. I am excited at the prospect of the Obama family living in the White House. I love that the Obamas have young children and an apparently open and supportive marriage.  I relate to them as a family, which makes President Obama more real to me. And I admire his wife, Michelle, who will make a great First Lady.

Michelle Obama is intelligent, accomplished, charismatic. She is not afraid to speak her mind.  Her list of educational and occupational accomplishments is long and she has done great things according to “worldly” standards.   She has also done great things for her family.  She has supported her husband through a challenging, two-year presidential campaign with grace and composure. She is a devoted mother willing to do whatever her family needs her to do.  And, as Brian Williams just pointed out, she dresses well.  Okay, yeah, I’ll give her that, too.  However, do I really care about her fashion sense?  Not really, no.  So why has so much airtime today been devoted to predictions about what impact our new First Lady will have on the fashion world?

Operation Cry-It-Out Has Commenced

Last night marked the beginning of Operation Cry-It-Out in the Maynard household.  And boy are we tired.  But the Operation must continue and failure is NOT an option.

Our first child is and always has been a sleeping champ, so sleep training was never a necessity.  Then baby number two arrived.  Actually, she was sleeping 12 hours a night by the time she was four months old.  Then, when she was 8 months, we went on a month-long vacation.  She shared a room with us while we were away and it was the beginning of the end.  The kid has not been able to get through the night since.

Embrace the crazy!

Last night it was raining.  Normally I love the sound of rain pitter-pattering outside my window.  But not now.  Not in this old apartment.  For some reason, the rain gutter right outside our bedroom window has issues.  LOUD issues.  Whenever there is much more than a sprinkle of rain, it sounds like a little elf is sitting outside my window rat-a-tat-tatting on the rain gutter.  “Bing. Bing. Bing. Bing. Bing. BING. BING! BING!!!!!”

It makes me crazy.  Or am I already crazy and the bing-bing-binging just brings it out?  I think it’s probably the latter, but whatever.  Anyway, I whined and complained and stomped my feet a little.  Finally, my dear husband went out and stuffed a diaper up this rain gutter’s bottom.  Oh, sweet relief!  No, wait.  Wait a minute.  Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump!  The ‘binging’ just went through puberty.  It’s voice got a little lower, but no less annoying.  I started to pack up and move to the couch when, thankfully, it stopped raining. So I went to bed…but not without earplugs and the air filter blasting by my side of the bed.  (PS: I ended up having a great night’s sleep. I didn’t hear the loud thunder or my baby crying last night.  It was great!)

The real question here is, why did the rain gutter make me certifiably insane?  My husband was ready to send me away to the nut house…and I was ready to go, for that matter.

Has the world gone insane? A “black” Friday indeed.

I’ll admit, we were at Sears Friday morning for Black Friday. We knew what we wanted, we found a great deal and we woke up insanely early Friday morning to go shopping.  My husband and I don’t normally shop on Black Friday, but we did this year and it was actually fun. But while we were there, we saw one middle-aged gentleman LOSING IT because he had to wait 10 minutes to get his TV. I mean, the guy was STEAMED. Come on, dude, it’s 10 minutes.  Big deal.  And it was obvious the employees were stressed, busy and doing the best they could.  I wanted to tell him to chill out, but I was afraid he might knock me out instead.

Then we got home and my sister shared this story with me (read it here).  A Walmart employee in Long Island was trampled to death by crazed shoppers when the doors opened at 5:00 am. Four shoppers, including an 8-month pregnant woman, were also injured.  It made me sick to my stomach.  I thought the guy we saw at Sears was out of line, but apparently he’s a saint compared to the crowd at that Long Island Walmart.

What is our society coming to?  Stuff was more important than life on Friday morning at that Walmart store.