Lights Out at Project Enlightenment

Project Enlightenment's lights are out. Not literally, though they might as well be. It seems that those rumors flitting about in March about Project Enlightenment's budget cuts that the school board was squashing were actually right on. At the time the board told us to lighten up. John Tedesco, the board's most vocal newcomer and staunch conservative who's confusing politics with public service, even stated how much he values and supports Project Enlightenment.

Yet with a zip of a box cutter the budget's been slashed.

This isn't about politics. Let's not muddy what's best for children and families with political gain and pretenses of martydom and bootstraps and other such cliches. Children aren't political pawns. Education is a community value.

Hop over to Deep South Moms where I've continued my venting.

Wordless Wednesday: Active(ist).

Blog Action Day: Climate Change

It's Blog Action Day. Almost 8000 bloggers are writing today about a cause that impacts all of us and quite literally, the world we live in.

I'm not going to get all scientific and political on you. I happen to think the environment isn't a political issue. I will, however, be brazen and tell you that I think you're a fool (which is nice speak for "idiot") if you think the planet is not in peril. And you are a parasite if you're doing nothing to protect it from the likes of well, you.

I know people who don't recycle. They claim they don't because the government can't make them do anything. So I'm guessing they don't wear seat belts or refrain from acting on delusional murderous thoughts too. Oh, and I bet they don't pay taxes since the government can't make them. Of course, Uncle Sam will track their asses down when money is concerned. So until there is a penalty, these people will not recycle simply as an act of defiance. I say it's doltish. A simple act of obtuse ignorance. Worse than that even, these people know that recycling is the right, responsible thing to do, yet they don't as their lame retaliation to "big government."

I also know people who think all this talk about global warming and climate change is a bunch of bunk. They believe it's all hooey and media hype. These folks figure the earth has been around for billions of years and isn't going anywhere. And apparently the earth is flat and mood rings really work. It must be easy to live in a shroud of callow fog.

What worries me is that these people are my peers, educated adults who have children and relish the many adventures to be had in the great outdoors. I always say "I hate nature." I say it under my breath and in jest, of course. What I mean is that I am terrified of snakes, creepy crawlies, critters and I detest dirt. I happen to love nature when experienced from a rocker on a porch with a Hendrick's & tonic in my hand. Yet I recycle and live as green a life as I can muster to do my part to save nature. These other folks of whom I speak actually sleep in nature and frolic on kayaks and skis and boats. Yet they don't value the earth and environment in which such frolicking ensues.

Ignorance can be rectified. But how to battle apathy?

I'm no scientist but I can tell you that based on everything I have read, seen, or otherwise consumed, climate change is real. This isn't a political issue; it's a human one.

Our parents and their parents before them, shared the desire to make their children's lives better than theirs. I think it's a common, if unwritten, theme of parenthood. Don't we want to make things better for the generation behind us? Is it not in fact our duty to leave the earth a better, cleaner, safer, saner place than we found it?

I know that I want my sons to know what amazing creatures roam our planet. Whether I actually want to see them up close and personal is another story. I want them to have access to the glorious riches of Mother Nature. I want them to frolic in the water and sands and mountains and meadows. Without a gas mask or chemical warfare suit. Think I'm freely tossing out hyperbole? Well, you're wrong. We have done irreparable harm to the planet, our Mother, our provider. Our folly and hubris will leave us eating crow. Except we'll find that that too is extinct.

On this day, October 14, 2009, Blog Action Day, I urge you to brush up on the real ways climate change affects us today and generations to come after us. I challenge you to find three ways you can live a greener, more sustainable life. I can certainly do more, but here's how I started:

• Join a CSA to eat organic, local produce (and let's not forget tasty!).
• Reuse grocery bags and be vigilant about bringing your own bags everywhere.
  
• Wash and reuse plastic food containers and zipper plastic bags.
• Pack lunches in reusable containers. Trust me, your kids will bring them home. Your husband might not.
  
• Switch to cloth napkins.
• Grow your own veggies (I, Queen of the Brown Thumbs - literally and figuratively, even had a bounty this year!)
• Be vigilant about recycling - no cardboard container should go in the trash.
• Don't use the garbage disposal.
• Keep pesticides off your lawn. Set a new paradigm for what a healthy lawn looks like.
  
• Use those funny shaped LED light bulbs.
• Keep the temp at 80 in the summer like I do (If nothing else, it discourages house guests.).
• Ditch the leaf blower and use a rake!
• Walk more, drive less.
• Carpool.
• Wash laundry only when you have a full load.
• Steer clear of any products that contain pesticides.
• Use chemical-free cleansers.
• Reuse wrapping, tissue paper, and gift bags.
  
• Buy local and seasonal; tomatoes in November taste like crap and aren't worth their carbon footprint!
• Use the library.
  
• Swap clothes and household items with friends.
  

In aggregate, every single little thing we do makes an enormous impact. It's not just a lousy cliche. Perspective, people. Just like your one vote, it matters. Look, it's not hard. It's not a crippling change for your family. It's easy to get the kids on board.

After all, this is for them.

Love Your Mother.

Type A Mom, Yup, That's Me

I've never really considered myself Type A. Sure, I'm anal, organized, ambitious, and driven. I thrive on structure and often fumble in the face of flexibility. However, I also lack motivation at times, hitting a writer's block plateau more often than not these days. I am not aggressive and I shy away from competition (unless it involves board games, don't mess with me when it comes to Taboo and Scattergories.). I do share the traits of impatience and need for control with the Type A folks out there but I don't characterize myself as excessively aggressive or obsessive.

Perhaps Mac Daddy would beg to differ.

When it comes to parenting, I surely don't consider myself Type A. In fact, most of the time I feel like Type F, as in Failure. We moms are hard on ourselves, feeling like we could always do more, better, faster, tastier, tidier. We rarely look upon our accomplishments and savor the little miracles of everyday. "Relish" in our book is nothing more than a condiment.

That stops today.

I'd like to pay homage to some of the amazing women I met at the Type A Mom Conference. Women who were my imaginary friends, as Mac Daddy says. Women who are real friends now. Women who I admire. Women who make me laugh, think, cringe, question, applaud, act, discover, cheer, revel, celebrate. If being a Type A Mom means being counted among the likes of the following utterly amazing women, then count me in (in no particular order):

Morningsidemom - My blog love affair and sister, separated at birth. Seriously, how have we gone 40 years (give, in my case, take, in hers) without knowing each other IRL?
Down to Earth Mama - A gloriously funny, self proclaimed geek. I am amazed at her writing and photography that captures spirit beautifully.
Pundit Mom - Really, need I say more? I was on her like beans on a stalk. Smart. Smart. Smart. I beam just to be able to say that she's my friend.
Deb on the Rocks - I stalked her from afar at BlogHer and was all over her awesomeness at Type A Mom. She's gonna have her own sitcom one day. I might be duking it out with MorningsideMom to see who's her biggest fan.
Modern Mami - Beat It is our theme song, and she's a rock star.
Egg Marketing - Susan thought I was a rap star. I hope I didn't disappoint. She sure didn't.
Cecilyk - A woman who proclaims she is more liberal than drag queens is alright by me.
Canape - Founder of Triangle Mamas and most impressive Wii Rock Band drummer. Real life musician who is every bit as cool as you'd imagine.
Abbyjess - Fellow Triangle Mama, Wii Rock Band vocalist extraordinaire. Her snark is hidden by her adorable awesomeness.
Upsideup - Always a joy to run into my friend. Kirtsy founder, designer, all around smart chick. Counting down to seeing her again next month at the Social Media Business Forum.
Sugar Jones & Angela England - I'm lumping these two brilliant women together because their graciousness taught me an invaluable lesson: Heart matters. Regardless of our political views and religious affiliations and histories, we can all get along in earnest. We share mutual respect for our outlooks, experiences, crafts, and talents.
TypeAMom - Oh, words escape me. My fellow foodie, francophile friend. I aspire to be half as awesome as she is. Kudos for planning and pulling off one helluva conference! I bow to her.
Mamikaze - Seriously, her name alone is worthy of our love, right? Kudos for making it a fantastic conference. A good time and a helping hand who can rock the hell out of an organic T-shirt made from recycled plastic bottles.
High Impact Mom - Always a joy. A kind soul who's always game for a good laugh and would never make a girl drink alone.
Vdog - I almost climbed into her lap at BlogHer because I was so excited to meet her. Now I am left speechless or ramble about nothingness when in her presence.
Writing Roads - I dream about being an ounce of the writer she is. Funny and liberal to boot. I think I love her.
Shash - She wins for coolest shoes. And you know how I am moved by a pair of awesome peep toes.
Mommy Niri - My fellow Indian blogger who doesn't write about techie stuff and isn't a geek! Words of wisdom flow from her ever-so-candid conversations.

I hung out with many other awesome bloggers at the Type A Mom Conference. We rocked out. We toasted one too many local brews. We indulged. We squealed. We cried. We snortled. We embraced. We cavorted.

We all found each other online, whether on Twitter or other such vehicle, have read each other's writing, commented on touching posts, offered condolences and congratulations, formed a friendship. What is astounding and refreshing is that the people I imagined to be cool turned out to be even more so. We shared a connection through our writing. A certain intimacy becomes apparent after you realize that peering into someone's soul through her words can truly move you. Such is the power and beauty and mystery of writing.

Our words connected us online and have brought us together in person.

Cheers to the Type A Moms out there. Mwah!

A Pedestrian Topic

Dear Walkers of White Oak Road,

Please do not glare at me as I drive along at the posted speed limit. Did I mention that I have never had a speeding ticket, much less a parking ticket, in 25 years of driving? I drive a small SUV, not a Hummer that hogs the road. The lanes are plenty wide for me. The yard services' trucks that regularly line the street consume all the space on the tiny shoulder that is smaller than Tinkerbell's haunches. I don't speed. I don't honk. I don't swerve. I drive to the right of the line and obey the speed limit. Always.

Yet you walk two, three, and even up to five in a row as if you are Queen Bees ruling the high school halls shoulder to shoulder. Plus, you push strollers (double joggers) and have a dog or two on a leash. Your posse literally takes up more space than my Highlander. I might curse you under my breath and keep my middle finger firmly in place on the steering wheel but I never honk or jeer. I do utter in disbelief that you'd be idiotic enough to take up all the room on a road as narrow as a neocon's mind.

But I see you, in your matching tennis skirts and visors, all turn in unison to glare at me as I drive by. Me, the one who's obeying the law of the road. Here's a tip to tuck in your tanned decolletage, don't walk two by two with a stroller and a dog on a road that has no sidewalks. I am all for pedestrian rights and respecting walkers, bikers, and the like. But generally there's mutual respect and a healthy fear of, oh, 3000 pounds of steel coming around a blind curve.

I happen to be a big fan of sidewalks and live in a neighborhood that has them. I walk with my sons in my neighborhood. I pushed their strollers and walked neighbor's dogs on those sidewalks. We decorate those sidewalks with chalk drawings and hopscotch boxes. We never stray from the sidewalks; that is a general tenet of city living. Roads are for cars. Sidewalks are for people. There is no gray area here. One of the earliest lessons we taught our sons was to stay off the road and on the sidewalk. Danger! Danger! Danger!

From the myriad skateboarders, bikers, scooters, and ripsticks I see on White Oak Road (sans helmets!), I guess you are handing down road ownership to the next generation. Is this a symptom of the general sense of entitlement plaguing America these days or are you really that clueless? Let me reiterate, if the road doesn't have a sidewalk, is narrow, and is peppered with blind curves, don't walk on it. If you must walk there, walk against traffic so you can see what's coming and by all means, move to the freaking side when a car passes. That means walk single file, gather your troops, and squeeze in tightly.

You might own one of those big fancy houses but you're a fool if you think you own the road.

Sincerely,

An Irritated Driver Who Doesn't Want to Play Frogger

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

I know my neighbors. Not just the folks on either side of my house. All of my neighbors on the street. And the next street. And the street after that. I know more than their first names and approximate time they leave for work. I know them well; they are my friends. It's a lucky life to count your neighbors as your friends. For one thing, it saves gas since we're literally a hop, skip, and jump away. We never need to schedule playdates. All we do is open the door and let the kids run amok while we grownups enjoy a glass of cabernet, Blue Moon with a slice of orange for the tang, or Moscow Mule, depending on who's bartending.

I have four lots but just one house. Of course there are neighbors' houses on those lots. We literally just swing open the door, and the kid radar starts beeping furiously. All the children, ranging in age from 18 months to 11 years-old, run among all of our yards playing old school games. Freeze tag. Hide n' seek. Hopscotch. Blissfully, no batteries required. Our toys belong to the neighborhood. As long as bats, balls, sidewalk chalk, and jump ropes make their way to a toybox somewhere, it's all good. Bird and Deal are lucky to live in a true neighborhood. I grew up in a similar place. My folks didn't cart us around to activities or playdates. We skipped rocks in the creek in our backyard, sang the tunes from the remake of Sargeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band using the retaining wall as a stage, and caught lightning bugs in jars handed out by Tracy's mom next door.

My neighborhood is a genuine neighborhood that invokes images of the days of yore. If you want to start a story with "Back in the day..." it's my neighborhood that your listeners conjure up. I'm not talkin' an artificial neighborhood with a faux town square clock tower. I'm talkin' a community with off kilter sidewalks, a little post office, an anti-Starbucks coffee shop, and privately owned local drugstore, replete with diner in the back. We walk to run our errands. We walk to the park. We walk just to see who's out and about when we get cabin fever. Bird and Deal benefit in so many ways. For starters, they're walkers, not whiners who act as if they're lugging 300 pound steel boots around like some suburban kids I see. They play with kids of all ages and learn to listen and respect adults who aren't mommy and daddy. They don't watch much TV. Their best friends live right next door. We even have Yogi the neighborhood dog who exhibits gracious patience everyday.

Why My 'Hood Kicks Ass (and why the subdivisions with their back decks don't):

We all have front porches. And we use them.

I have the keys to five neighbors' houses, and they have mine. Someone's there to feed the ornery cat when we're gone. Because she's so ornery we have to rotate the duty.

We literally go next door to borrow a cup of sugar, or a couple eggs, or a gallon of milk.

We cook extra meatloaf, spaghetti, turkey stew, or lambchops and share the wealth.

For 6 weeks after my kids were born neighbors signed up to bring us dinner. I'm talkin' home cooked (and sometimes home grown) extravagant meals, with dessert, wine, and a pair of arms to hold the baby so Mac Daddy and I could eat.

We have parties in the street. Lots of them. We even have a neighborhood lemonade stand that doubles as a tiki bar.

I know someone is watching my kids if I have to run inside to stir the chili, swap a load of laundry, or get ready for date night with Mac Daddy.



Since we don't have family in town, we rely on our neighbors for the occasional babysitting (like when I went into labor with Deal or the times we've had to take one kid or another to the ER in the middle of the night), an extra set of hands to move a desk upstairs, or for a few rounds of Yahtzee and beers. We take care of each other, and no one keeps a scorecard. Well, maybe the kids playing Mother May I do.

Tell me why your 'hood rocks.

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