Baltimore, November 5, 2009 – A new Harris Poll Quorum survey, conducted for Sylvan Learning, reveals that more than six out of 10 adults do not feel comfortable helping a teenager with “advanced math” homework. 63 percent of adults said they would not feel comfortable helping a middle or high school student with advanced math homework, including topics such as quadratic equations, manipulating algebraic equations and graphing functions. Only 12 percent of survey respondents would feel “very comfortable” helping a teenager with more complicated math homework. More than one in three respondents with children reported feeling “anxious” helping their youngsters with math – at any level.

For this they need a study?

I am going away for a long weekend with girlfriends. Hurray! I really need to drink get away.

My husband says, ” You need a vacation…from what?”

And I am reminded of that old joke.

You know, the one about the guy who comes home from work and finds his house in shambles, his kids playing naked  in the yard and his wife in bed reading People Magazine. “What happened here today!?” he asks.

And the wife replies. “You always ask me what I do all day. Well, today I didn’t do it.”

Before I leave, I have to make a list of the things that are in my brain – things like how to pill the cat and when Lewis needs to be at soccer on Saturday and leave them for my husband.

Here’s my list:

• Make sure Lewis wakes up on Saturday by 9am!!!!
• Don’t believe that he is up until you see him eating breakfast (Honey- Nut Cheerios in pantry).
• Lewis has soccer game on Saturday – 10am – cleats on front porch, shin pads in tv room, socks in laundry. Needs to be at High School at 9:30am. Needs to pay for coach gift. $20.
• Pack snack (look in pantry for granola bars), water bottle (check dishwasher – I think it’s there) and $ in soccer bag (saw it  under the kitchen table).
• Lewis has a haircut at Anthony’s at 2pm. He’ll need $15 plus tip.
• Roofer coming to give estimate at 11am. Ladder in patio.
• Birthday party 6pm – Lew needs $ for paintball, gift ($20 is the standard gift – he’ll wrap it in duct tape). Can you drive other boys? Call Jacob’s mom to work out logistics. 781-332-8845.
• Dog gets 1/2 can of food and 1/2 cup dry food plus 1 capsule  of glucousamine sprinkled on top. Rinse and recycle cans.
• Leash hanging by front door with poop bags. Be sure to walk him as far as  Mimi’s  house. He likes to do his “business” there.” Don’t forget the bags.
• Fish- sprinkle food twice a day. Make sure filter is working
• Cat gets small white pill in am, large blue pill in pm. Coat pills in butter, squeeze her cheeks and poke pill into her throat. Feed her 1 cup of dry cat food in am. Make sure that dog doesn’t eat it.
• Gecko -  Mealworms are in fridge. Feed five  each day. Turn light on in cage on in morning, off in evening. Make sure the water bowl is full.
• Water window boxes and pots on porch everyday.
• Lewis will feed animals and water plants for $$$.
• Have fun!

Love,

Carol

I love summer – it’s school vacation that I can’t stand. I’ve given up trying to have a television-free summer and asking Lewis to play outside.  Right now, I am simply clinging to my sanity and counting the hours until school starts. Maybe you’re on the brink with me. 

The Top Ten Signs that You are Ready for School to Start

10. The lunch boxes are packed. Salmonella…bah!

9. You want your kids to have the H1N1 vaccine so they won’t ever be absent.

8. You’ve replaced reading aloud from Harry Potter with reading aloud from back-to-school flyers.

7. You don’t care if the school bus driver was on “America’s Most Wanted” as long as he’s on time.

6. You make your kids go to bed when it’s still light outside because “when school starts, you’ll have to get up early.”

5. You’ve gained five pounds since you stopped running after the school bus in June.

4. You’re hoarding shoe boxes for the third-grade diorama project.

3. You agree that ketchup is a vegetable.

2. You’re beginning to think that playground bullies might build character.

1. You have romantic dreams involving the principal.

I have a Twitter account because someone told me that I should. “It really helps with networking,” they said. But really, I don’t have anything to Twit errr…Tweet about.  Twitter is all about keeping your “followers” up-to-the-instant on your every move. But frankly, I don’t move very often. In fact, I have spent most of today sitting in front of the computer drinking coffee that’s been in the pot since breakfast. Although I could probably say that in under 140 characters (Tweets are limited in length), who would care?

So I have begun to write fantasy Twitters.

“Leaving for the Vineyard with Barack and Michelle!”

“Lost 10 pounds today. Feel great. Look fab.”

“Book on NY Times Bestseller list. Hurray!”

“Late for date with George Clooney.”

“Rahm called for advice…again.”

“Son hell-bent on finishing his summer reading.”

]]> http://carolband.wordpress.com/2009/08/03/word-of-the-day-tweet/feed/ 4 cband twitter_bird_follow_me 090702_obama_beach_ap_223 http://carolband.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/word-of-the-day-chill/ http://carolband.wordpress.com/2009/07/29/word-of-the-day-chill/#comments Wed, 29 Jul 2009 16:25:11 +0000 cband http://carolband.wordpress.com/?p=1001 ]]>

It’s the 90 degrees out, but my kids are urging me to chill. 

“Chill out,  Mom” my son says when I ask where they are going and what time they’ll be home.  “Chill out, Mom” means:  ”I don’t want to tell you where I am going because you might not think that going to “The House of Pain” to watch Jake get his eyebrow pierced is a good alternative to reading the books that are on the high school Honors English summer reading list.”

“Chill” can be a adverb or a verb. If Lewis describes an indie (that is kid-speak for “loud”) rock band as “chill,” that is “cool” which is synonomous with “sick.”  “Vampire Weekend is chill.” or “During the summer, I just want to chill and listen to some sick music.”

When kids come home from college for the summer, it’s chill for a few days – maybe even a few weeks. Everyone gets  along. But soon, college students  realize that their parents are not chill at all!  And parents realize that their tuition money is well-spent because now their kids … KNOW EVERYTHING. They know what you should be buying at the supermarket, what you should eat to save the planet and what things you should do, that you are not doing, to end global warming. Here’s a short list amassed from conversations with my own college student. 

I should:

1. Collect rainwater.
2. Compost the coffee grounds, eggshells and rotten lettuce in the back of the fridge.
3. Only buy fair trade, organic coffee.
4. Stop eating meat.
5. Eat only locally grown produce.                
6. Produce our own produce.
7. Hang our clothes outside to dry.
8. Eat a raw food diet.
9. Stop buying bottled water.
10. Do yoga.
11. Drive a hybrid car.
12. Be more chill.

On the back of the Reese’s Puffs (Hershey’s Cocoa and Reese’s Peanut Butter Sweet & Crunchy Corn Puffs) cereal box is a list of 18 things  to do before you are 18. Maybe, because I have already showed a lack of good parental judgment by purchasing Reese’s Puffs for my child’s breakfast,  General Mills assumes that I am a bad parent in other areas as well. But I have a problem with the list.

What about "Make the Honor Roll?" or "Learn to cook?"

Number 17, (after bungee jumping and passing your driving test) on the list of 18 things to do before you are eighteen years-old is:  “Complete a road trip coast to coast.”

What mother in her right mind (or even a mom with a mind deluded enough to purchase Reese’s Puffs) would let her 17-year old drive from Boston to California?

Not me.

The fuel for a cross country trip?

I love my neighborhood.  Yesterday, Buddhists from the meditation center at the end of  the street walked by in red robes and blessed my dog with a prayer wheel.

He is blessed

Very similar to the prayer wheel used to bless Chester

But it’s not just the Buddhists who make the street interesting. We’ve also got  a doll maker, a childrens’ entertainer, an inventor and a former prima ballerina. There are teachers  and writers and designers and  architects and some of the best cooks anywhere.

We also have a Harvard MBA who twirls fire.

Here she is performing at a backyard barbecue.

It was the night before Lewis left for two weeks at summer camp. Using the packing list that the camp had provided, he was  checking off items as he stashed them in his big plastic footlocker. He had four bathing suits, twelve pairs of underwear a new package of socks, a rain poncho, a polar fleece and bug spray. Check, check, check.

“I need a bucket for my cosmetics,” he said.

“What cosmetics?”

“You know, my toothbrush and stuff,” Lewis explained.

“Can’t you just carry your toothbrush to the latrine or whatever it’s called? You have to transport it in a bucket?”

“It’s called The College,” Lew explained.  “And the list says I need a bucket.”

Now, if I had known he needed a bucket, we could have picked one up at Target when we bought the poncho, the bug spray and the new pack of socks.  Instead, I combed through the house looking for something that could hold Lewis’s paltry collection of toiletries.

“How about this?” I held my daughter’s Vera Bradley cosmetic bag.

Lew rolled  his eyes.

I inventoried the Tupperware in the kitchen, scoured the basement, the bedrooms and the bathroom and finally dumped all of my makeup (which includes considerable collection of wrinkle cream)out of the plastic container I use to keep my arsenal from overtaking the bathroom and into a canvas shopping bag.

“Voila! A bucket!” I announced.

“Can you wash it out with really, really  hot water?” Lewis requested.

I ran it through the dishwasher, thus killing  feminine bacteria or girl/mom cooties, and handed the sanitized plastic tub to Lewis.

“Thanks,” he said as he carefully arranged his toothbrush(in a plastic tube), comb, sunscreen, bug spray, travel-size toothpaste and body wash (teenage boys are too macho for soap) in the bucket.

“Can I borrow your digital camera, too?” Lewis asked.

I cringed. I use my camera – not just for this blog, but I have hundreds of images waiting to be downloaded , uploaded and embedded onto my Facebook page, my Twitter account and forwarded to relatives who still haven’t seen my oldest son’s high school graduation pictures from 2004.

“Be careful with it,” I said.  Lewis opened the new package of socks, gently wrapped a pair around the camera and placed it his trunk.

Today is the first day of summer vacation. Hurray! I envision a two whole months of playing outside, swimming, bike riding, eating peanut butter sandwiches on a blanket in the backyard and lucrative lemonade stands. Of course, that’s for me.
My kid is in the basement playing XBox 360.

This is what happens when you don't play outside

Okay, it’s  raining. So, I’ll let him grow mushrooms between his toes and burn out his retinas for one day. I’ll start nagging him to go outside tomorrow.