Battle of the Deadly Nuts

Those of us who grew up in any generation prior to the current 20-and-under crowd find ourselves astonished at how many children in our kids’ classrooms and playgroups have moderate-to-severe allergies to nuts. Having someone else’s child come over to your house to play or sleep over, or even making fun snacks and treats for your child’s birthday, can be a bit of an emotional rollercoaster: What can I make that’s safe for everyone? Will this adjusted recipe still taste good? Did I touch any of the cooking utensils or dishes with anything that has been in contact with nuts? Am I absolutely certain that my ingredients are nut-free in every way imaginable?

Faces of Death.      
image credit to bioag.novozymes.com

Let’s face it. Nut allergies are scary. They’re scarier to deal with (for us average parents of non-allergic children) than milk allergies or gluten intolerance or other food-related sensitivities. For some reason – whether backed by science or simply what makes the news that we read – nut allergies seem deadlier and more insidious. There are individuals who can even become horribly ill – or worse – from being in proximity of nut particles in the air. I mean, come on! If the idea that you might accidentally distribute the almost invisible dust of death out into the breathing space of a highly allergic child isn’t terrifying, I don’t know terrifying.

Hence, the inception of periodic peanut-free flights and the dramatic rise in popularity of pretzels as airplane treats. (Not sure why plain M&Ms haven’t become the obvious replacements for peanuts, but that’s for another discussion.)

Let’s get serious, though. As with anything that requires tremendous care, consideration and some level of restriction, the need to accommodate individuals, even children, with nut allergies tends to upset some people.  Moms and dads alike rail against the concept of requiring all school snacks or brought-in birthday treats to be peanut free. They act persnickety about the parents of these children taking a moment to send out pre-birthday-party emails about the precautions needed to keep their kids safe. The list of grievances is long and the frustration real.

So let’s go there. Let’s get real.

The reality is that if these parents didn’t take these precautions, their children would be put in danger, sometimes mortal danger, every day in this country of ours where so much of what we ingest and are exposed to includes nuts or nut particles. If that’s not clear enough, let me be more concise: These parents who insist on these precautions are protecting their children. Their kids. The young people they not only are required to raise and care for but that their instincts drive them to protect… especially from anything deadly.

Some parents (of non-allergic children) who feel inconvenienced suggest that children with such severe allergies should not be allowed in public schools and shouldn’t be included in common outings and parties, stating that if exposure is so dangerous, these sensitive children likely should be kept tucked away from kids and crowds and mishaps. Let’s face facts. This reaction isn’t about the safety of the kids with the nut allergies. They’re about the fact that the safeguards that are put in place may occasionally inconvenience their kids. Essentially, it’s a douche-y response.

For the parents of non-allergic children who get bent out of whack by precautions that are established to protect children with nut allergies, I put together a little comparison for you, an if-this / if-that list if you will, to help define which option might be the best option – keeping severely allergic children separate from other kids or finding ways to include them safely.

NUT-FREE SNACKS AND TREATS AT SCHOOLS

If we restrict snacks and treats to those that are nut-free, your child might have to wait until she is at home to eat and enjoy her beloved peanut butter sandwich or the granola bar with nuts or her favorite brownie. You might also have to avoid making cupcakes to bring in for her birthday, since the ingredients may not come from a nut-free facility. I know this is rough and a huge let-down.

If we don’t restrict snacks and treats to those that are nut-free, the child with the nut allergy could die from accidental exposure to or ingestion of nuts or nut particles.

PARENT REQUESTING SPECIAL ACCOMMODATION IF THEIR CHILD ATTENDS YOUR CHILD’S BIRTHDAY PARTY

You have options here. You could grumble but accommodate, possibly frustrating your child that he’s going to have to wait until after his party to eat his favorite cake. You could not grumble but accommodate, with the same results but likely with a better response from your child who believe it or not does look to you as an example of how to respond to the world. I know either of these options is emotionally wrenching, and the whining might be difficult to bear. Of course, you could refuse to accommodate, be a completely and total douche canoe, and exclude the allergic child from the party. (Hopefully in that last instance your child will be a better human being than you and will apologize to his classmate for your douche-ocity.)

If you don’t accommodate but simultaneously don’t say anything back to the parents, or if you claim you’ll accommodate but actually do not, the child with the nut allergy could die from accidental exposure to or ingestion of nuts or nut particles.

THE QUESTION OF WHETHER A CHILD WITH A SEVERE ALLERGY SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO ATTEND PUBLIC SCHOOL

If we allow a child with severe nut allergies to attend public school, precautions have to be put in place to keep that child safe and alive, just as precautions are in place to keep any non-allergic child safe and alive. That includes becoming a nut-free zone (see above for all of the strife that will put you through).

If we keep a child with severe nut allergies out of public school, your child will be able to eat her favorite snack when she wants to. She’ll be able to bring in whatever tasty treat – for lunch or for snack or for celebration – that suits her whimsy, or yours. Your child will get straight As and will be guaranteed years of happiness and future professional success simply from lack of stress over the restrictions of a nut-free school zone. Angels will weep with joy.

If we keep a child with severe nut allergies out of public school, we put that child’s education, emotional health and future at risk. Some parents are exceptional at homeschooling and put public school education to shame; however, others struggle, either from lack of knowledge, difficulty understanding how to convey concepts to a young learner, or simply from the economic strain of having to choose between full-time employment and the education needs of their child. We have schools for a reason – not everyone is a good teacher by nature; the choice to homeschool should be just that – a choice. Also, there are the inherent emotional risks of potentially reducing opportunities for the excluded child to have peer-to-peer social interaction – again, this is entirely dependent on the parent’s strengths to accommodate this. In short, you risk a child’s childhood for the sake of others’ convenience.

I suppose that’s the most difficult part for me to get my head around, this idea that anyone can feel that their child’s convenience is more important than another child’s safety. It’s one thing to care more about your child than any other child, but it borders on a pathological lack of sympathy and empathy to put your child’s desires above another child’s health or well-being.

I can understand feeling frustrated about being restricted from doing or having something you love or crave, and I can understand feeling frustrated when your child faces this type of restriction. But when this is put into the context of accommodating-my-frustration-versus-putting-someone-else-in-mortal-danger, especially when that someone else is a child, suddenly I don’t really feel such a strong need for that thing I miss. I don’t feel such an urge to fight for my kids’ taste buds to be satisfied at any given point in the day. And when I think about one child being entirely excluded from a rite of passage (yes, school is a rite of passage) just to allow another child the freedom to eat whatever he or she wants during the learning part of the day, the whole argument seems not just a little bit pathetic and selfish and awful.

So if you feel strongly that your child faces powerful injustice at the hands of the nut-free power lobby that his God-given and constitutionally defended rights to eat his Nutty Buddy or his Snickers bar or his grandmother’s banana nut bread are being infringed upon, please feel free to whine and gripe and carry on. Have at it. Clearly, you have your priorities in good order. And when you “swear to God” that you’re the kind of person who is selfless and looks out for the good of others, don’t be surprised if I gingerly but quickly put a little bit of physical distance between us. I’m not fond of standing that close to a lightning rod.

The Little Things, from The Little People

The last several days can only be described as a pile of stress. Between friend "stuff", work "stuff", family "stuff" and trying to get ready for Halloween, things are abnormally abnormal. That's saying a lot in my existence. On top of that, a historic storm bearing my mother-in-law's name -- so much opportunity for humor if she was a stereotypical mother-in-law... darn it -- just did serious damage to my childhood hometown in Connecticut  plus devastated Seaside Heights, New Jersey where my family spent a few weeks each summer. B***h of a storm attacked my youth.

My stressy time clearly doesn't hold a candle to what others are going through right now, so it feels selfish to feel stressed. But the stress is there, and what is it that they say?.. You can't fix the problem if you don't acknowledge there IS a problem. Or something like that. Likely something pithier or more clever.

Watching my kids tonight, I realized that they hold the key to getting a handle on serenity. It's NOT that they epitomize serenity personified -- no, they are more "this is what 5-Hour Energy would look like as tiny humans" -- but their outlook and actions hold the keys to bringing life back into balance.

Without further ado, here are lessons from them regarding what to do to reestablish bliss... these all came from a single evening:

• Hug everyone good-bye. Everyone. Every. One.
• If you don't get your way the first time you ask, keep asking. Several times.
• Chat up everyone you encounter. Be sure to introduce them to everyone you are with, including sharing everyone's ages, birthdays, address and phone numbers. It's friendly.
• Walk up to someone you like and sit in their lap, then cuddle up to them. Without asking.
• Challenge people to impromptu foot races. In the hallway. Naked.
• If the urge hits you, grab someone's face with both hands and kiss them. And then do it again. Then follow up with an Eskimo kiss, a butterfly kiss and an upside down kiss for good measure.
• Find your passion and then give it your all, even if your passion is battling fancy tops (beyblades).
• Close your eyes, extend your arms, and spin and spin and spin. Because it's fun.
• Tell someone you love the following, verbatim: "I need to tell you something. I need to tell you something. Hey. Hey. Are you... Hey... Are you hearing me? Hey, so um... This is important. Ready?... 'Kay... I really love you. A lot."

Try it. Report back. Now... Go.

LICE!!

Late yesterday, my husband and I received the call from my daughter’s pre-K that parents everywhere dread.  “We’re pretty sure your daughter has lice.”  No!  It can’t be true!  Please!

So many things ran through my head at the speed of light:  Bugs in my kid’s hair! Bugs!  In hair!  *shivers*  Smelly hair treatment.  Nitpicking (that phrase – being nitpicky – will never sound the same again to these ears). Lice combing. Washing and sanitizing every sheet in the house, since Ballerina likes to make her way to everyone’s bed to snuggle. Washing and sanitizing all the kids’ clothes. No activities with other kids for a week.  No pre-K for a week (shoot me now).  Trying to keep the kids apart so the bugs don’t spread to Bear, who is set to start first grade on Monday.  Keeping the snuggly 4-year-old off the couches.  Keeping snuggly 4-year-old off laps.

Not a photo of Ballerina, but might as well be.

None of this is good. None.

As of the writing of this post, we have been dealing with this tiny menace for around 18 hours. Last night, while I took a moment to get in the right mental state for this (as if that’s even possible for a head-bug-phobe like me) and cooked comfort food for dinner, my husband kindly performed the initial step of washing Ballerina’s hair and applying the treatment to her head.  After dinner, I did the initial lice combing and nitpicking (there’s that phrase again), which I repeated this morning. 

Now that we’re self-designated experts at this, I will share my newly acquired parental wisdom with you, hoping the entire time you never have to apply said wisdom with yourself or your kids.

1. Prepare for several days of house arrest.  You don’t want to expose others to your child’s new friends.  That means you are stuck at the house/condo/apartment, too, and your little one likely will get bored at some point.  Set up the movies.  Pull out the art activities.  Line up the books.  Decide to learn a new language together.  Send someone out for materials to build a next generation tablet computer. [As I’m writing this, Ballerina is sitting off to my right, on a plastic chair, watching Disney’s Jungle Book.]
2. Expect your head to feel really itchy. Seriously. From the moment we heard the word “lice,” my husband and I have felt dramatically itchy probably a few hundred times.  Neither of us has lice.  How do I know?  We’ve checked each other’s heads at least five times apiece so far. But we still itch. So we will continue to check. Obsessively.
3. The person with the strongest back needs to be the lice comber/nitpicker.  I don’t care how cleverly you situate yourself as you begin your designated hour to two hours combing and picking your child’s hair; at some point you will find that you’ve been standing over him or her, bent over awkwardly from the waist, for several minutes or longer. It’s not comfortable. Knowing this may happen someday to your child is reason enough to start a workout regimen. Believe me.  Believe my back.
4. Wear all black while you lice comb and nitpick. Lice and nits in the hair look white. On a paper towel some can look brown, but some still look white. Black makes them all stand out. If you wear black and the little buggers jump onto you – and a few may, trust me – you can spot them and nab them.  Today, I’m wearing a black t-shirt and black skirt.  I look like a cheerleader in mourning.  But it’s been worth it.
5. If you have long hair and you are the hair-comber, pull your hair back snugly. The last thing you want is to offer a safety rope to the few still-living lice trying to escape your child’s head.
6. Don’t expect the lice comb to get the nits out.  You’ll need to meticulously go through your child’s hair to pick the nits off the hair follicles with your fingers, then recheck through nearby hair shafts to make sure the nit didn’t fall onto one and reattach.  And then you’ll have to do it again.  And later, you’ll have to do it again.  Get out your glasses and your patience. Truly, there is no alternative.  
7. Repeating #2.  Your head will feel itchy.  A lot.
8. Do NOT make jokes to your partner along the lines of, “You do the lice combing. It seems right up your alley. You enjoy obsessively looking for problems” or “Nitpicking! You’ve found a physical manifestation of your true calling!”
9. Do not beat yourself up and assume your kid is unclean in some fashion. There are urban legends about lice preferring clean hair to dirty hair and some anecdotal “evidence” that the nits have more trouble gluing to oily hair than clean hair. That’s not a reason to obsessively shampoo your kid’s head.  Kids get lice. Clean. Grungy. If they have hair, they’re susceptible.
10. Don’t make faces or shrink from your kid or otherwise make your child feel icky.  Yes, that’s the technical term – icky.  They’ll likely be freaked out that they have bugs on their head.  Possibly more than you.  It’s the kid’s head harboring the bugs, after all. 
11. READ THE DIRECTIONS on the treatment. Seriously, people. For instance, our treatment states that if after 8-12 hours, the lice aren’t dead or sluggish, do NOT use the treatment again; rather, call the doctor to determine if you need another type of treatment. The treatment is a pesticide.  Do you really want to keep dousing your small child with pesticide?  READ THE DIRECTIONS. And follow them.

I hope this is helpful. Or actually, I don’t. Because if it’s helpful, that means your kid has lice. And that would suck.

Excuse me… time to go nitpick. Apparently, it’s my calling.

UPDATE:
Both kids ended up with lice (not shocking, since they're very close).  After treating each child twice in far faster succession than is recommended - though done with a doctor's direction - the little head bugs remain tenacious. So I am providing additional insight and advice:

1. Know your school's and county's lice policy. Our county recommends allowing children to return to the classroom the day after treatment, even if some nits remain, because at that stage it's highly unlikely the child will transmit lice to classmates. The nurse at my son's elementary school is a bit more hesitant, though she pins the blame on the teachers.  I got into it with her this morning regarding the whole lice thing.  If you want details, email me... not in the mood to post here.  Suffice it to say, Mama's Irish was up.
2. The American Academy of Pediatrics has these recommendations, which concur with our county's policy... some of the information is reassuring, some disconcerting.  
3. There are magical places that specialize in lice removal.  As in, you take your child there and they'll do the whole thing!  Some places will even come to you at your home!  They guarantee one treatment and done, and as in the case of the place we're going - Elimilice (cute name) - they even provide documentation that allows them back in the classroom the same day as treatment!  (This service apparently warrants a 3-exclamation-point information bullet.)

Ballerina, exhausted from days of Mommy scouring her poor head.

My Mom Is Awesomer Than Your Mom

The top 5 reasons my mom is awesomer than your mom:

1.       My mom never allowed me to get Sea Monkeys. Are you familiar with these creatures? They’re brine shrimp, marketed as itty bitty merpeople, that swim around all day – upside down, no less – in a tiny clear container, eating their sea monkey food and having random, anonymous “encounters” with other brine shrimp. (I say anonymous because I seriously doubt that even they can tell each other apart.) When I was a child, I was a comic book junkie. Archie. Teen Titans. Starfire. Richie Rich. Dark Wing. And every comic book had that one big ad, the bane of all parents, selling Sea Monkeys. Countless times I begged my mom to let me secure a colony of these creatures. And countless times I was crushed when she refused. Well, as luck would have it, my husband bought Sea Monkeys for my kids this Christmas. And as it turns out, my mom was right. They’re irritating, boring little buggers.

2.       My mom not only babysits my children, but she asks to spend time with them. It is such a relief, when I go out of town, to know that my mom is not only willing but happy to help my husband take care of the kids. And I go out of town regularly for work. Plus, she offers to give my husband and me date night breaks and time to take care of household stuff here and there on weekends. Pretty great, eh? Now, to be fair, she’s not terribly fond of watching newborns. These offers started coming in regularly only after the kids became a bit older and more self-sufficient. So if you have a newborn and a mom who loves taking care of newborns, for now your mom may be better than my mom on this point. For you. But in a few years, my mom will win this point again. Hands down.

3.       When I was in my late teens and early twenties, mom allowed me the freedom to gain independence and experience. When I was in high school, she allowed me to go to Europe on class trips. Twice. Without her tagging along as chaperone. Without bombarding me with warnings and rules and fear. She told me to go and have a wonderful experience and to tell her all about it when I got home. Later, she encouraged me to attend college several hours from home, at minimum, so I would be forced not to come home on weekends, forced to create my own life on my own terms. And when I moved to the other side of the country after graduation, she never expressed doubt or concern or sadness, but instead she helped me learn how to set myself up and stand on my own two feet. My mom way trumps yours on that count. Unless you are my friend Nana, in which case your mom is on par with mine on this point.

4.       When I was a child, my mom totally looked like a cross between Sandy Duncan and Olivia Newton-John. Depending on your age, you almost certainly know who Olivia Newton-John is, between her singing career and her roles in Grease (classic for all time) and Xanadu (just awful, but addictive music). But you may have no idea who is this Sandy Duncan person. She was only one of the cutest little blonde stars of the ‘70s! She was Peter Pan on Broadway.  In the musical. She got to sing and fly and fight Captain Hook and lead a group of Lost Boys. And even cooler, she guest starred on both Bionic Woman and the Six Million Dollar Man. So essentially, when I was growing up, my mom was a blend of Sandy Olsen and Peter Pan. Minus the crazy frizz “You’re the One That I Want” hairdo. And she couldn’t fly. As far as you know.

Fantastic Sandy Duncan image thanks to neverpedia.com

5.       My mom taught me proper use of the English language. She wasn’t harsh about it when I was a child, but she did make sure I read a lot (not like that was a struggle… reading is my drug of choice). She gently corrected me when I used poor grammar, even when I was very young. And when I wanted to know the definition of a word, she made me look it up so I would know not just what it meant but how it was spelled. Now, I know summa youz might not think grammer or speling is importint. And with all of today’s LOLing & WTFing & OMGing, I often SMH and wonder if today’s kids will B able 2 do more than TXT. 4 realz. But as an English major whose career was built on the use and manipulation of the English language, I can assert unequivocally that English mastery is not only beneficial but exceedingly advantageous. At the very least, if you use proper spelling and grammar, you remove a distraction; if you speak and write properly, people will be more likely to focus on what you say and less likely to nitpick the errors in how you said it. At least so my mom says. And my mama knows grammar…

Right now, she’s probably cringing that I used the word “awesomer” in this post.

Do Kids NEED Two In-Home Parents?

The other day, I was checkin’ the Tweets, gettin’ all social-media-esque and stuff, when I came upon a Tweet that brought me up short. For my in-the-flesh friends, I can already hear your comments: “Brought you up short? That wouldn’t be too difficult!” Yeah, yeah, har har. Ooh, I like that sound. Har har! Aargh! (Sarsgaard!!!).

The Tweet that halted me stated: “One of the blessings for children with two parents is learning that life has more than one voice. “

This seems innocuous enough, right? Fair statement, sweet reflection. Still… having been the child of a single mother (my father was very involved in my life, but he lived 1,000 miles away) and having known many kids who were brought up both well and broad-minded by single parents, this statement did give me pause.  I figured I should read the full article to which the Tweet linked. I don’t want to “out” the Tweep or organization in question, because I think they meant well, so I’ll note the text here rather than link to it:

“My husband thinks I’m too protective of our six-year-old twins and I think he’s not careful enough. How can I convince him to be more attentive?

“One of the blessings for children with two parents is learning that life has more than one voice. Fathers and mothers nurture, discipline, love and struggle with their children quite differently. My own research has shown that dads tend to encourage more exploratory behavior, while moms play it closer to home. These normal tendencies, though not absolute, are intriguing to children. So enjoy the differences – don’t regret them.”

I understand what they are trying to convey – in the Tweet and in the brief article itself. While way over-generalized, there are key elements of truth in this man’s answer. However, in its brevity, I find the statement to lean toward ignorant for a few reasons. To me, it:

·  Disregards/dishonors single parents (whether single due to individual adoption, divorce or death of a parent)

·  Disregards the impact/influence of other adults that parents include in their children's lives

·  Disregards the benefits of parents who themselves actively help their children see different points of view

·  Disregards single-sex-parent households with its "dads tend to do this" and "moms tend to do that" commentary

Again, I'm not saying the entire concept is wrong, but I THINK it's conveyed too narrowly.

My mom and me at my wedding.

So anyway, as I mentioned, I was raised in a “non-traditional” though unfortunately very currently traditional family, and I was self-aware enough while reading the Tweet and article to know that I may be reacting to this with a bit too much sensitivity. Therefore, I reached out to my friends for their insights. Below are four reactions from moms of widely varying age ranges and family situations. I’ll let their eloquent responses do the talking. (Yes, I got their permission to use their statements and names.)

Sylvia

“That response was BS and not helpful at all to the question.  They just didn’t want to tackle what was appropriately guided behavior for the 6 yr olds (and I find myself asking that question a lot for my 4 yr old who thinks he’s almost ready to move out and get a job).

"Most single parents (and even most 2-parent households) are not an island.  Our children experience a variety of approaches to life, boundaries and more importantly problem-solving skills, when they are outside of our care.  That may include family, babysitters, daycare, schools or just hanging out with friends.  I noticed the last time I went somewhere with a friend and her 2 children that we have similar but slightly different approaches and language that we use to keep an eye on our kids and get them to behave appropriately.  I learn something from nearly every parent I encounter and our kids are probably keeping notes too.  I don’t think the idea that 2-parent households are the only (or even primary) way that children learn the world has more than one voice."

Lindy

“So, the woman who posed the question needs to read "Fifty Dangerous Things (you must let your kids do)".

“Now, on to [the organization’s] response. It is narrow-minded to think that children learn "more than one voice" from any number of parents in the home - children learn voices from everyone if, and only if, you teach them to pay attention. I am a single mom and my daughter has certainly learned that there is more than one voice to be heard - hers is first, mine, her dad's, her teachers, her friends, her friends' parents, her elders, her minister, her neighbors - the voices of the entire village that help bring her up in this narrow-minded, oft one-sided world. But note, hers is first on my list. Why? Because she must learn now that hearing what others say is good but making her own "right" decisions is what is best for her.”

Liz

“I think in the context of the question that was asked, this answer is okay-ish.  (But sometimes I think two parents can do more harm than good if they can't find a common ground.)

“But I don't think the response 'dishonors' single parents. It does makes the point that 'more than one voice' is important for kids to hear.  I think single parents need to figure out how to get 'more than one voice' in their kids' lives.  Single parents can get real overprotective of their kids, since they're the ones who have sole responsibility!

“My friend, P, was a single mother who bemoaned not having a 'man's influence' in her kid's life.  But the bottom line is that not only could she have arranged that -- she didn't want to.  She didn't want others to have much influence at all in her kid's life, and the kid suffered (I think to this day) for not having the 'other voice' all the years.”

Missy

“You might want to Google Al Franken and Focus on the Family.  He's recently made comments rebuking their opinions on same-sex marriages by going through the research that they defend.  He talks about the health, stability of kids, etc.  When I saw the [organization’s] quote (and I haven't read the article, so perhaps there is more in there), I didn't necessarily think that they were excluding same-sex parents, but it did promote the same reaction as you - far too narrow, and likely offensive to some of [the organization’s] parents. Just something to check out. I heart Al Franken.”

So there you have it, from one of the best panels I could have hoped for. But there are just 5 of us commenting here, and all of us women. What’s your reaction?

The Lovers, The Dreamers... and Me

I was all geared up to write a post about something funny that my best friend texted to me today, but this whole situation about that young boy in New York, Leiby Kletzky, has me in knots. I can’t stop thinking about him and his parents and his community. Between this child and Caylee Anthony and all the other kids we hear about – or don’t hear about – in the news… if you allow it to, it can really eat you up inside.

So today we’re going to focus on something positive and light, to fight off the grief and focus on hope. Today is about the little ones. Our little ones. Yours and mine. Whether you’re a parent or a grandparent, an aunt or uncle, a cousin or a friend of a very young member of our species (or two, or three), let’s chat about our tiny people. Even if your child is all grown up or is gone-too-soon, I want to hear about him or her. What is your keenest memory or favorite ritual or funniest story? What would you share with the world about your child, if you could?

I’ll start. My favorite ritual with my kids is singing to them at bedtime. Just before my little Bear was born, I developed an urge – from where, I know not – to relearn “Rainbow Connection.” Do you remember that song? Kermit the Frog sang it in The Muppet Movie. I adored that song when I was little, and in recent years it’s resonated more and more for me. So from the first day I brought my son home from the hospital until well into his twos, I sang him “Rainbow Connection” every night at bedtime. Looking back, if I had to choose a Kermit song, "Rainbow Connection" was probably a better choice than “It’s Not Easy Being Green.”

When Ballerina was born 17 months later, I decided to stick with the theme of rainbows and to sing her “Somewhere Over the Rainbow.” It stuck for a while, but once the kids were old enough to communicate, it became clear that they both really loved “Rainbow Connection” best.

About a year ago, the bedtime singing kind of faded away, but a few months ago, out of nowhere, both kids started asking for “Rainbow Connection” again just about every night. So it’s our ritual once more. I even recently posted a video of myself on YouTube singing that song so that my husband could play it for our kids at bedtime when I went on a business trip across the country. For. Realz. (Don’t bother looking for it. It’s not searchable. Besides, YouTube is probably going to send the copyright police after me for singing it and posting it online. That is if the Defenders of Quality Singing don't get me first.)

I admit that tonight, while I sang to my no-longer-babies, I felt a pang, an ache, for Leiby Kletzky’s parents, knowing they won’t be able to have their bedtime rituals with him any longer. They won’t have the chance to hug him tight and give him a good night kiss. Not tonight. Not tomorrow night, either. So I hugged my two just a bit longer and gave them extra kisses, and I’ll try to remember to do those “extras” often. Oh, and I admit that maybe I sang “Rainbow Connection” with a bit too much gusto tonight… but what is it they say? Sing like there’s nobody listening?

I’ll leave you with the lyrics to “Rainbow Connection” (written by Paul Williams and Kenneth Ascher), but before I do, remember to go to Comments below and share something about your special little ones!

Rainbow Connection

Why are there so many songs about rainbows
And what's on the other side
Rainbows are visions, but only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide
So we've been told and some chose to believe it
I know they're wrong, wait and see

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Who said that every wish would be heard and answered
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that, and someone believed it
Look what it's done so far
What's so amazing that keeps us star gazing
And what do we think we might see

Someday we'll find it
That Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

All of us under its spell

We know that it’s probably magic

Have you been half asleep, and have you heard voices
I've heard them calling my name
Is it the sweet sound that calls the young sailors
The voice might be one and the same
I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It’s something that I'm s’posed to be

Someday we'll find it
The Rainbow Connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

La da da dee da da dum

La da da da da dee da do

My Kids and Big Love

My daughter’s latest career aspirations came to light over the weekend when my husband, kids and I attended my close friend’s birthday dinner at a semi-traditional Turkish restaurant; I say “semi-traditional” because their kids’ menu included pizza and chicken fingers, which I do not believe qualify as Turkish fare. You do, however, sit on comfy cushions at low tables to eat, and they serve delicious Middle Eastern food, like kebobs (hello! yum!) for us grown-ups. 

They also have a belly dancer. My Ballerina was entranced from the first twitch of this woman’s hips. By the end of the evening, Ballerina was serenely mirroring the “dance belly’s” moves.  She refused to leave the restaurant before the dance belly finished her set, and Ballerina has since shown off the sways, swishes and gyrations (toddler-version) of her chosen future profession to any who will observe. We do not allow tipping, thank you very much.

While this development challenges my husband’s sensibilities, it doesn’t compare, in my mind, to the conversation to which I was privy on the way home tonight from preschool. Things to know – Bear is 4, Ballerina is 3, Gabbie is a new girl in Bear’s classroom and Tyler is a little girl in Ballerina’s classroom. On with the replay:

Bear: Mom! I played with Gabbie today all day! She is my friend already, and I’m going to marry her.

Ballerina: What about me?

Bear: I can’t marry you. Brothers in a family can’t marry sisters.

Ballerina: But I want to marry you.

Bear: I’m marrying Gabbie. What boys at school do you want to marry?

Ballerina: You.

(Thus commenced a thorough discussion of the relative merits of every boy in each of their classrooms. Finally…)

Bear: Okay, I’ll let you marry Evan.

Ballerina: Okay. I’ll marry Evan. And I’ll marry Tyler, too.

Bear: You can’t marry Tyler. She’s a girl. You can’t marry a girl.

Ballerina: I’m going to marry both Evan and Tyler.

Bear: That’s so cool! You’ll be two mommies and a daddy! I’ll let you do that.

Let’s recap. Based on this past weekend and tonight, my children’s future includes belly dancing, misogyny, patriarchy, dangerous proximity to incest and polygamy.

Winning!  (Off to get a glass of wine…)