Kids

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We’ve got things growing in the garden … so, now what?

That’s one of the vexing challenges of a school garden: finding ways for kids to “cook” the food they’ve grown. A lucky few schools, such as Martin Luther King Jr. Middle School in Berkeley, where Alice Waters started her first famous Edible Schoolyard, have built a dedicated kid-friendly kitchen. The rest of us muddle through.

Red lettuce, head lettuce and arugula go into the mix.

At George Watts, we’re only in our first year of gardening, so we’re winging it. My plan of attack, so far, has been this: Grow (mostly) food we can harvest and eat without necessarily cooking it. Secure a water source for cleaning. Set up permanent work stations outside.

Harvesting the herbs

Our first harvest event with the kids was “Salad Days,” and it’s definitely worth repeating. Our nutritionist, Becca Wright, and I led classrooms through harvesting lettuce, radishes and herbs, then creating a tasting menu. Tasting plate were piled with salad, radish salsa and dipping sauces. We supplemented the food we’d grown with tortilla chips and store-bought carrots (because the carrots we’d hoped to use weren’t mature enough yet to harvest).

Becca, the nutritionist, makes veggie dip with students.

Kids split into groups to harvest the lettuce and radishes, pick and chop the herbs, mix the herb dip, concoct a salad dressing, and make the radish salsa.

Tip: Invest in kid-friendly knives. Becca brought these fantastic green plastic ones so no one would lose a finger.

Not only did the kids get a mini-nutrition lesson, they flexed their math muscles (measuring ingredients) and made a connection between the plants they’d been growing and the food they eat.

The pre-K through 5th grade students had a blast being outside (what kid wouldn’t?), teachers loved it — one said it was the best thing she’d ever done at the school — and it felt great to finally eat something after months of getting the garden up and running.

Veggie Dip

Ingredients:
1/2 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup light cream cheese
2 tbs chopped chives
1 tsp chopped thyme
1 tsp chopped sage

(Note: We used chives, thyme and sage, because they’re growing in our garden. Use whatever you have.)

Directions:

1. Measure yogurt and cream cheese and put them in a large bowl. Mix well.

2. Chop fresh herbs. Add them to bowl. Stir.

Radish Salsa

We grew radishes and cilantro in our school garden this fall, among other things. This next recipe came from Isaac Dickson Elementary School in Asheville, N.C. (Thanks, Kate!) The original recipe called for poblano or jalapeno peppers, but we left them out and added tomatoes instead.

Ingredients:
2 avocados
6 large radishes
1/4 cup chopped cilantro
2 tsp freshly squeezed lime
1 tsp olive oil
2 large tomatoes chopped

Directions:

1. Half, pit and peel the avocados and cut into chunks.

2. Clean radishes and tomatoes and cut into small chunks.

3. In a bowl, stir together avocado, tomatoes and radishes.

4. Chop 1/4 cup fresh cilantro and add to avocado mixture.

5. Stir in 2 tsp lime juice and 1 tsp olive oil.

6. Stir together lightly and enjoy with tortilla chips.

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Only three more weeks until my daughters go back to school and my work schedule returns to normal. Maybe then I’ll finally get back to blogging with regularity.

In the meantime, here’s a little something I just wrote for Sesame Street (sign up for the newsletter here) about a play date gone bad:

friends foreverIt’s not exactly a walk in the park

A play date between 4 year olds is like a stroll through a booby-trapped park. The two could be skipping along, all unicorns and rainbows, when suddenly they take a sharp turn into troublesome territory because one of them isn’t sharing, or someone’s feelings are hurt, or someone is suddenly in the mood to be alone for no apparent reason.

It shouldn’t be surprising, really. Even adults sometimes have trouble getting along, hurt each other’s feelings, or need solitude. Only we’re not as blunt as 4 year olds.

Yesterday was a perfect example. For days, my 4-year-old daughter Phoebe had been looking forward to a playdate with one of her favorite friends, Renn. Shortly after arriving at the park, the girls began a pretend game involving two girl pirates and a bear. Within moments, Phoebe and Renn ran smack-dab into conflict.

Pirate Phoebe wanted the pretend bear to be the sort of bear who can’t climb. She was tired, and wanted to scale the play structure to be safe from the bear. Pirate Renn, on the other hand, wanted the bear to scramble up after them, so the girls would have to keep climbing and outfox the furry beast. Neither would budge.

Words were exchanged. Feelings were hurt. And the game came to a standstill.

With lips quivering, all that my tired and sweaty daughter could say was, “I’m feeling a little homesick. I want to go home.” What had started as a long-awaited play date came to an abrupt end.

Learning to work it out

Working out a problem can be tough for anyone, but especially for young children who have less experience. Conflict resolution takes two — two kids willing to listen, share, cooperate, or do whatever it takes to resolve the problem, and at least one adult encouraging their problem solving.

Yesterday morning, Phoebe wasn’t willing to do what it took. I could tell she was overtired and wounded. So, rather than put on my mediator hat, I opted to haul my exhausted daughter home. I fell over myself apologizing to the Renn’s mom, promising we’d try to do it again, all the while wondering whether I came across as a wimpy, indulgent parent and whether the girls’ friendship may have lost some of its sheen.

Later, I asked Phoebe some questions about what had happened at the park: “How do you think you might have solved the problem with Renn?” “What could you say to Renn next time you can’t agree on how to play a game?”

Then I boosted her confidence: “Do you remember when you were little (like, last year) and you didn’t even know how to share toys with your friends? And look at you now — you know all about taking turns. That’s because you’re growing up, and you understand more about how to be a good friend.”

Phoebe perked up and said, “Maybe next time I could say, ‘Let’s work it out! How about we play pirates and zebra instead? I’ll be the zebra.’”

Her face lit up into a big smile. It was the perfect solution.

Through thick and thin

Later that night, feeling bad about the problem left unfixed at the park, I decided to check in with Renn’s mom. After leaving the park, they had gone home and talked about the incident over some macaroni and cheese.

She reported that Renn was sad, but not just because she and Phoebe had argued. The incident had triggered deeper worries in her daughter, about the next school year and whether her new friends would want to play the same kind of games she likes to play.

As for her friendship with Phoebe, it was as sparkly and untarnished as ever. As Renn said, “I just don’t think Phoebe and I were in the same place today. But we’re still very good friends.”

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My 4-year-old daughter Phoebe came home from her kiddie-gymnastics class yesterday with body language that was screaming “exhaustion.” She practically stumbled into the house, eyelids heavy as frying pans.

bopIf she were still taking midday naps, now would have been the perfect time for one. Except that she doesn’t nap anymore. Instead, Phoebe just keeps going, even when she’s worn out and frazzled. And when she’s particularly tired, as she was yesterday, she only wants one thing: her pacifier (aka “boppy”).

I’m embarrassed to tell you about this. I never imagined myself as a parent who would allow her 4 year old to use a pacifier. But here I am, finding it nearly impossible to take away my daughter’s most beloved possession.

Part of me believes it’s long overdue. She’s not a toddler anymore, and all of her peers who once had pacifiers have long given them up. Some of Phoebe’s preschool friends have shifted their attachment away from a pacifier to a new beloved object. One kid we know gave up his pacifier but now wears a cape everywhere.

Another part of me still isn’t ready to take away my daughter’s self-soother, because it does an amazing job when she’s sad or needs to collect herself. I just keep hoping that she’ll gradually lose interest. I once read that kids with an unwanted behavior, like pacifier-sucking habit, usually give it up on their own by age 5, even if you do nothing.

So far, Phoebe hasn’t lost even a smidge of interest in boppy. She loves, I mean, really loves it. Sometimes I think that if her pacifier could warm up macaroni and cheese in the microwave, Phoebe would have no use for me at all.

I may be dragging my feet on eliminating the pacifier, but it’s certainly not for lack of suggested tactics. My wise mom friends have lots of ideas and strategies.

Here are five of their cold-turkey tactics:

  • Donate. Encourage child to donate his pacifier to new babies who need them. Of course, you’re not really donating your skanky, old pacifiers to nice, new babies. But your child can believe he’s doing a good deed by making a gift of his pacifiers. They can be left under a pillow at night for the Pacifier Fairy to magically retrieve or given to the family dentist.
  • Off With Their Heads. Cut off the tip of the pacifier. Without suction, pacifiers are frustratingly non-suckable.
  • Bribery. My brother- and sister-in-law promised their 3-year-old daughter a fabulous dress-up dress to reward her for giving up her pacifier. That was all the incentive she needed.
  • Oops! I forgot the pacifier. Leave town for a vacation and “accidentally” forget the pacifiers. This is Matt’s idea. I’m not sure how I feel about it. The only thing worse than being at home when your kid is wailing inconsolably at night because she’s going through pacifier withdrawal is being on vacation when it happens.

In the meantime, my husband and I have done what our dentist advises us to do: begin weaning Phoebe off her “boppy.” (Our dentist tells us that Phoebe’s bone structure makes her a prime candidate for braces, regardless of how long she sucks on her pacifier. Is that good news or bad news? I’m not sure.)

So we’ve laid down a rule at home: We’ve told Phoebe that she’s only to have her bop at bedtime. She’s allowed to get it once she’s wearing her pajamas. Before we made the rule, Phoebe would pop her boppy in her mouth throughout the day.

And I’m looking at the calendar to set a date for giving up the bop. I want things to go as smoothly as possible, so I’m aiming for a perfectly ordinary week, when no one has the flu or a new schedule. Mid-summer is looking good.

I’m ready. But is Phoebe? Doubtful.

(Note: This is something I wrote for Sesame Street’s parenting newsletter, which comes out today. I’ve deleted some paragraphs and made a few embellishments. Sign up for the Sesame Street newsletter here.)

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For once, I’m on top of it. Usually I wouldn’t start purchasing loot for a second-tier holiday (Easter, Valentine’s Day, etc.) until a couple of days beforehand. Apparently, I prefer the adrenaline rush of waiting until the last minute and then sifting through Target’s ravaged displays.

But this time, people, I’ve got everything I need for the Easter baskets, and I have a whole week and then some until the holiday. And I didn’t even have to go to Target. How smart am I?

Full credit goes to Alpha Mom for posting stories with straightforward headlines like “Easter Basket Gift Ideas” for getting me in gear early. Nothing like photos bunny-shaped soaps and finger puppets to light a fire under you.

Here’s what I’ll be tucking into plastic eggs and divvying (depending on 4-year-old’s and 6-year-old’s desires) into two Easter baskets:

Vintage beads. Phoebe is still into dress-up, while Annabel has decided she’s much too old for it. So Phoebe lucks out with the navel-length (on me!) strand of pink and white beads I found at a local vintage shop.

Oversized strawberry-shaped sunglasses that will make Phoebe look like someone from the cast of “Hair.” (These won’t fit into a plastic egg, but I made an exception for them. If you’d been with me in the store, you would have said, “You must buy these strawberry-shaped sunglasses. It will be the Easter that Phoebe tells her children about.” They’re that good.)

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A light pink lip glosse by Bella Il Fiore, attached to a little key-ring and clip, for Annabel to clip to her belt loop or purse strap or wherever. I have happy memories of a 1970s childhood filled with strawberry- and Dr. Pepper-flavored Bonnie Bell Lip Smackers. So even though I have mixed feelings about giving lip gloss to a 6 year old, the Lip Smackers feelings win.

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Felt dove pin made by quirky English designer Kate Garey. Vogue dubbed her accessories “a fashion inspiration for 2009.” I’m maaay-jahly crazy about her. I’m imagining this pinned to Annabel’s book satchel or on a jacket. She and I have been talking a lot about accessorizing this year, so I think she’ll know just what to do with it.

’50s-style chiffon scarves in lavender. Again, it’s all about accessorizing. Or dressing up, depending.

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Tiny handmade Waldorf dolls that tuck inside pastel wool eggs. I saw these in the Alpha Mom story and went straight to Etsy to order a couple of them.

I’m not one of these mothers who, for nutrition’s sake, doesn’t do candy at Easter. I do candy. We’ve got two small chocolate bunnies in purple foil, pastel jelly beans and speckled-egg malt balls.

As Phoebe would say, “Voila! Done!” What’s going into your baskets?

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Maybe it’s because we’ve felt the premature hints of spring recently, or maybe it’s because my spending habits have been immobilized by the recession for too long now. Whatever the reason, I’ve been breathless over store displays lately, particularly ones that have trotted out their spring colors.

First, these A-line girls’ skirts, made by my friend Lizzy.

il_430xn57451653Lizzy’s one of those people who is mega-talented with a needle and thread but you’d almost never know it, unless you happen to show up at our neighborhood park for the Halloween parade and see the crazy-elaborate costumes she’s sewn for her daughters. She’s absurdly modest.

Here’s part of the bio from her Etsy profile page:

“For years I worked on set and in costume studios making, altering, shopping for, caring for, distressing and destroying all things apparel. I’ve made slacks for Brad Pitt and I’ve remade bras for Tyra Banks. I’ve dyed for Winona Ryder and I survived The Sopranos and now I’m making stuff from home.”

Next, these caramel-filled, chocolate-covered robin’s eggs at Parker & Otis. Like Jordan Almonds, they fit dreamily against the tongue, and the caramel filling is something unexpected. These are definitely going in the adult Easter baskets.

robins-eggs

Also from Parker & Otis, some relish. Comes in hot or mild, and if you’re a person who likes a pickled cucumber now and again, this jar would love to introduce itself to you. P&O owner Jennings Brody told me exactly how to use it: Grill a 98% fat-free turkey burger, top it with P&O’s pimento cheese and this relish. It’s a life-changer.

relish

Finally, something from Dolly’s Vintage. I bought a set of these one-of-a-kind hair clips for my daughter today. Just lovely, and they actually work. And at $10ish, they’re the perfect recessionary-ready splurge.

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I love writing a parenting newsletter for Sesame Workshop. It’s one of my fun assignments, if only because I can document what’s going on in our household. I write about what the kids are doing, parenting challenges, what tactics we use to survive it all, etc. Since I don’t journal, it’s a way of preserving memories.

bozobopbigOnly here’s the thing: After I write a newsletter, a “panel of experts” on the Sesame side reviews it, weighing in on whether I’ve just given good or bad parenting advice. Imagine having a panel of experts milling around your house, raising a red flag when you’ve just done a poor bit of parenting. That’s kinda how it feels.

Recently, for example, I wrote about helping my kids handle feelings of anger or frustration. As in, what do you do when your 6 year old and 4 year old are both yelling at each other like two drunks, and you figure that at any minute, Patrick Swayze is going to have to come over and ask them to leave the bar? What sorts of tactics can you use to help them channel their emotions so they can have a non-yelling conversation?

One tip (which I heard from a mom friend who has twins) was to let your kid hit a pillow. You’ve heard this advice before, right? It’s nothing new.

Here’s what the expert panel said:

The act of hitting, even when directing the action at an object like a pillow, can actually strengthen angry emotions and increase children’s (or adults’) angry feelings rather than dispel them. We recommend sticking with the other great ideas — taking a deep breath and counting to ten.

In other words, hitting a pillow makes you angrier. Even though this wasn’t technically my advice and I don’t use this one at home, I still felt a bit like one of those parents on “Supernanny” who’s just been caught on videotape doing something patently bad.

That’s all to say that you and your kids may want to steer clear of this anger-management tactic.

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I know you’re not supposed to laugh directly at your children when they’re trying to be serious or when they’re dabbling in naughty territory. I know this because I get paid to write about parenting, which should mean that I know a thing or two, but also because pretty much everyone is aware that this is not a good parenting tactic.

pirate-phoebeSometimes, though, it happens.

Yesterday, younger daughter huffs into the room. She’d been playing with her dad in another room, and judging from her expression, something wasn’t going her way. She says in her lilty, lispy voice, “Daddy is just a teeny, tiny, tiny, teeeeeeny, little, tiny …”

And this went on for a while, until finally she says, “teeny tiny bit … stupid. Just a little bit. I hate to say that in our house. But it’s true.”

Saying “stupid” in our house is like dropping the F-bomb. You just don’t do it. And I’ve been firm on this issue, because I’ve been hearing the word a lot lately, thanks to a certain classroom friend of younger daughter’s who says the word frequently at school. There’s always one, isn’t there?

But how do you not laugh at that? I literally had to turn away. I couldn’t even manage to talk about why she was angry or help her deal with her frustration because I was afraid I’d snort right in her face.

The upside is that I now have a new track to play in my head whenever I’m feeling bothered by a bad driver or stupid difficult person: “You’re just a little, tiny, teeeeny, tiny …”

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Today someone reminded me of this piece, written for Education.com, so I decided to post it. It touches on three things I’m positively exuberant (and borderline obsessive) about — kids’ education, community and civic engagement. If we all put little more energy put into any of those three, we’d have a much better world on our hands. …

Poll your kids on whether to have pizza or Veggie Delight for dinner, and you’ll likely see a swift show of hands. Kids are capable of weighing in on much meatier matters, though. By encouraging children to be good citizens now, children are more likely to grow into adult voters. And not just warm bodies at the polls, but informed, engaged voters. In other words, good citizens.

My older daughter at the Kids Voting booth

My older daughter at the Kids Voting booth

To raise a good citizen of your own, try these ideas:

Bring democracy to your dining room table. Illustrate the power of voting by asking younger kids, “Have you and your friends ever had to make a decision about something that was hard to agree on? Well, voting is a fair way to make decisions.” Then take a vote on something – like what activity to do next.

Engage older kids in political debate by talking about issues that interest them – like making college more affordable, raising the minimum wage, or lowering the legal voting age. Then help them turn passion into action by writing a letter to the editor or volunteering for a campaign.

Make community service a must. You don’t have to save snow leopards in Nepal to show your children the value of giving back. Doing good in your own backyard fosters civic engagement, not to mention a deeper sense of connection to the community. Volunteer to stock shelves at a soup kitchen or clean up a local river. Get more ideas at The Volunteer Family.

Whet their civic appetites by giving kids the vote. If you don’t already have a Kids Voting program in your community, consider starting one. I’ve volunteered as a precinct captain for Kids Voting Durham for the past several years. And on every Election Day, I swear I’m brought to tears at least once as I watch those kids sliding their ballots into the box, brimming with pride.

Stock your library with civic-minded reads. For grades K-2, try Being a Good Citizen (Way to Be!) by Mary Small. The book explains that by picking up trash or planting flowers, you’re being a good citizen. For grades 5-8, the ABC book D is for Democracy walks kids through concepts like immigration, taxation, and even zeitgeist.

Both drive home the fact that being a good citizen isn’t just about rights. It’s also about responsibilities.

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