How Not to do your kid’s elementary school take-home project
My son came home at the beginning of November with his first serious take home project in his academic career. To thoroughly research and display a natural landform.
Cry me a River.
If you have elementary school-aged children, you have been presented with the following scenario:
Your child comes home with a project assignment. They must research a topic and then display their findings in a creative way. Suggestions included making a diorama, a puppet show, a video dramatization. The project instructions come with a rubric so the child knows just what the teacher will be looking for in the research, delivery of facts and visual presentation before giving the grade.
In true tradition of thinking in terms of our achievement and perfection driven culture, as demonstrated in the film Race To Nowhere, I initially got it into my head that this was not my third grader’s project, but it was mine. It would have to be mine if I was to make sure my son got the highest grade possible. I couldn’t just let my eight year old go it on his own, could I? Because other parents in my highly competitive school district wouldn’t just hand off their kids project, would they? If I let him do this on his own, would I seem neglectful? Would I come off as apathetic mom in a tiger mom school district?
Right away, I approached the project – Rivers – like the 40something I am and not like the eight-year-0ld child that my child is. As far as the research, I would visit three different library branches to take out every children’s nonfiction book on rivers in publication.
The research went well and with much enthusiasm, my son, with some direction, came up with vocabulary flashcards with river terminology like “mouth” and “source” and “delta”. He also created about six flashcards with facts on the world’s longest rivers and New York State rivers. To top it off, he wrote the flashcards showing off his latest 3rd Grade skill: using cursive letters!
Next came the all-important presentation of Rivers. Should we create a video? I had the FlipCam ready. We could go off to the Genesee River with the University of Rochester in the background …..we could script a newscast and dress him in outdoorsman clothing….what would he say? … Or, we can go in the über diorama direction. It would have to include mixed media like clay and pebbles for the river embankments and shiny cellophane for the river. And, some parts of it should be relief sculpture and for artistry’s sake, there must be perspective and depth to show a river’s origins far away and its mouth up close…
All these ideas were shot down during the design conceptualization meeting with my son.
“I really just want to color, mom.”
Really? Just Color? Would there be an initial sketch? How would a sense of scale and perspective be achieved?
“MOM! I DON’T WANT TO MAKE A SCULPTURE OR A DRAFT. I’M JUST GOING TO COLOR! IT’S MY PROJECT, OKAY?”
The more suggestions I made, the madder he became until he started to cry.
Remember, this was supposed to be an enjoyable project to be completed at home.
So I backed off. And this is what he created: 
Three days later, he came home with his final grade: Outstanding. Well, good for us.
I mean, good for HIM!
Pareve Pumpkin Pie
photo found on marthastewartliving website
Everyone in my nuclear family loves LOVES pumpkin pie. And for only the second time in 12 years, my pumpkin-pie eating little family of five will not be going over the NY Thruway and through any tunnels or bridges to New York City. Nope, as much as we love seeing the family and sitting in 10 hours of traffic, this year, we are staying put.
When you are Transplantednorth, there are some disadvantages of being a nuclear family in a town where it seems you are surrounded by friends who all have extended family in town. Come holidays like Thanksgiving, you once again become the disappearing transplant.
I’m not complaining, really. This was my choice to stay “home.” But can a place be home where there are no extended family within 300 miles? The rest of the year, Rochester indeed feels like home. Come holidays, without aunts, uncles cousins and grandparents around, it can feel like how the Ingalls family must have felt on the wild, windblown frontier.
But this is a story about pareve pumpkin pie.
One small advantage of staying put (okay my kids will think a big advantage) is that at our Thanksgiving table, we’ll have pumpkin pie.
As much as she has tried to like it, my mom does not like anything pumpkin. My kids, however, can’t get enough of the orange stuff. I put it in breads, waffles and pancakes. I even made a pumpkin challah just so I can make pumpkin challah stuffing.
But, most of you know that pumpkin pie calls for milk, cream, condensed milk, or some other dairy ingredient. This poses a challenge to Jewish families like ours who observe the dietary laws of keeping kosher.
There are ways to get around the dairy dilemma by finding pareve ingredients.
What is pareve? Not many know. It is so esoteric, the word does not appear in the WordPress spellcheck.
It’s a term meaning food that is neither meat or dairy. It’s neutral. Like Switzerland. Does it taste as creamy and delicious as real cream? No. But, I’d rather have an imitation dairy dessert any day than serving a Tofurky at my Thanksgiving feast!
Here is the recipe. I based it on a recipe used from Martha Stewart Living, I just replaced the dairy ingredients with some stuff called Coffee Rich, found in the frozen section of most grocery stores. For those of you in upstate New York, I found this chemical-laden substance at Tops, and not Wegmans this year. But I still love you, Wegmans.
All-purpose flour, for surface
- Pate Brisee for Traditional Pumpkin Pie
- 1 can (15 ounces) solid-pack pumpkin
- 3/4 cup packed light-brown sugar
- 1 tablespoon cornstarch
- 1/2 teaspoon coarse salt
- 3/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
- 3/4 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg
- 1 teaspoon pure vanilla extract
- 3 large eggs
- 1 Cup Pareve Nondairy Creamer, like Coffee Rich
- Ground cloves
- Whipped cream, for serving
Directions
- Preheat oven to 375 degrees.
On a lightly floured surface, roll pate brisee disk 1/8 inch thick, then cut into a 16-inch circle. Fit circle into a 9-inch deep-dish pie dish, leaving a 1-inch overhang. Fold edges under. Shape large, loose half circles at edge of dough, then fold into a wavelike pattern to create a fluted edge. Prick bottom of dough all over with a fork. Freeze for 15 minutes.Cut a circle of parchment, at least 16 inches wide, and fit into pie shell. Fill with pie weights or dried beans. – Buy a premade Pareve piecrust. Bake until edges of crust begin to turn gold, about 15 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack, and let cool.- Meanwhile, whisk pumpkin, sugar, cornstarch, salt, cinnamon, ginger, nutmeg, vanilla, eggs, creamer, and a pinch of cloves in a large bowl.
- Reduce oven temperature to 325 degrees. Transfer pie dish to a rimmed baking sheet, and pour pumpkin mixture into cooled crust. Bake until center is set but still a bit wobbly, 50 to 55 minutes. (If crust browns too quickly, tent edges with a strip of foil folded in half lengthwise.) Let cool in pie dish on a wire rack. Refrigerate until well chilled, at least 6 hours (preferably overnight.
Happy Thanksgiving!
Why my Lenovo should be renamed “Lemono”
After I write this post, I’m off to the computer store again. To have the computer geeks fix my computer. Again.
Did I mention to you that I’ve only had my brand new Lenovo ThinkPad for two months?
Am I writing to you from my new Lenovo laptop? No. I’ve had to wait my turn to get my hands on my kids’ laptop while they are in schoool. I’m trapped in my own parental-protection Netnanny web that I’ve set up on this computer – a Gateway. I’ve blocked myself from all inappropriate material on the web and I only have about 30 minutes of Internet time before Netnanny boots me off.
Why am I not writing on my own computer? Because my brand new computer crashed – again – two nights ago. After my very capable husband backed up and restored my overpriced paperweight only two nights ago, I fired up my Lenovo yesterday morning to find that it no longer has wireless Internet detection hardware.
Every time, and believe me, I tried all day, to create a new wireless connection, to enter in the ISP and password that Time Warner bestowed upon me, I got an
Error 737 message.
Of course, my computer failed to tell me what Error 737 means. Then, it offered me a chance to troubleshoot, but even that provided no solutions. And, as you can see, my childrens’ computer has no problems connecting to the web. So it must be my computer’s hard drive.
Did I mention that I just had the hard drive replaced on my brand new Lenovo less than one month ago? And it took Lenovo over a week to send my computer fix-it guy a new hard drive?
If you have a Lenovo, what problems, if any, have you had? I’m looking to get my money back for a different brand. What laptop would you suggest?
Talk to the Ear: A great idea for preschoolers
This is not my original idea, but I used it in our class last year and it worked very well:
Once upon a time there were three little boys: one had the hair the color of golden straw and eyes the color of a summer sky. One had rosy cheeks and dimples. The third had skin the color of the sands of the most beautiful beach and eyes like melted chocolate.
These boys loved each other very much – like brothers. But they also fought like brothers – over sharing toys, and who wasn’t sharing toys, and who had a longer turn with the rocket ship, and so on. With each tiny injustice that the three boys subjected on each other, they felt they must inform their teachers and snitch on one another. Though the teachers loved these little boys very much, their constant snitching was driving them BATTY!
So, one day, the teacher saw a in a magazine great idea from another, much more seasoned teacher as a cure for snitching.
The next day, she brought in an advertisement from a newspaper about hearing aids. The picture was that of an ear.
It was a hairy ear.
It was a scary ear.
But this listening ear would prove to be very useful in the classroom. Because sometimes, preschoolers just want to be validated by saying things out loud. Even to an inanimate object. And by the time they finish expressing themselves, many times, they are already on their way to independently figuring out a conflict.
The next day, at circle time, the teachers introduced the ear to the whole class. They told them that if there was a problem that didn’t involve safety, for example: if someone had a toy for too long and another friend really wanted that toy but the first friend was not giving up the toy, the offended member of the non-sharing incident could go tell the ear.
Five or ten minutes into open play time, an offense was committed: the boy with the hair the color of straw really wanted the red ball. Really.
“Go ahead, tell the ear,” his teacher said with great encouragement.
The boy slowly approached the ear, placed at child’s height on the wall of the classroom. The boy did not know just what to do at the ear. Should he put his ear to the ear? Or his mouth to the ear? Should he whisper? Or shout?
By the time the boy confessed his problem to the ear, he saw the whole thing to be so funny, so hilarious, that instead of complaining, he found himself laughing and forgot what had gotten him so mad in the first place. By that time, the ball had been abandoned by his other friend. And the offended boy went to play with a walkie-talkie, sans batteries.
And the three boys and their teachers lived happily ever after … until it was time to once more talk to the ear.
What’s that Purple Thing from the CSA and what do I do with it? – CSA week 4
Joining a CSA Farm is like a box of chocolates. You just never know what you’re going to get.
The adventures of my first summer with a CSA continue. Here is what I’ve learned so far:
- Don’t expect to live on what you get in your CSA share. In spring and early summer, you’ll still have to supplement your local produce with things like peppers and other salad vegetables
- Locally grown produce from a Northeast CSA will not include summer plums and peaches and berries, so you will still have to buy that at the supermarket
- Expect to get a lot of Kale. Learn different ways to prepare it, you’ll be surprised how much you like it.
- Don’t expect vine-ripened tomatoes until at least late July
This week, like last, we received a bunch of sugar snap peas. 
They can be prepared in stir-frys and salads, but my family likes them best raw. Easy enough.
We also received some beautiful purple basil which I shredded and used as a topping for pasta. It’s also good in Thai cooking. 
But last week, after getting back from a great trip to see the family back in NYC, I went to pick up our family’s half of the share from our friends. They took the basil because they knew I have a ton of it in my own garden.
What they gave me was this:
This weird, bulbous thing is called Kohlrabi. It’s pronounced: Call Robbie. It looks like it could have grown on futuristic farm on Venus. Just the sight of it made my sons laugh. I have never had Kohlrabi, neither did our CSA partners, so they let me be the brave one and try it first.
So what to do if you encounter Kohlrabi in your CSA share this summer:
- First you peel the purple away. I thought this was a bit disappointing because it was the vegetable’s purpleness that made it so intriguing to my kids. Underneath, you will find a white flesh, like a turnip.
- Slice it thinly with a sharp knife. Kohlrabi is tough!
- Toss it with Olive oil Salt & Pepper and place it on a single baking sheet in the oven at 400 degrees. It has a sweet taste and the texture of roasted potatoes
- Make a Kohlrabi Green Apple Slaw, as featured in A Veggie Venture
- Make a Kohlrabi puree, as recommended by Farmgirl’s blog
I will wait patiently for the mounds of zucchini and tomatoes we’ll get in our CSA share. But in the meantime, I’ll have fun with this strange vegetable that looks like it was grown on another planet.
Wear Your Bicycle Helmet, Damn It!
Yesterday, both my sons were glum and grumpy. They were missing their big sister who had just left for sleep-a-way camp for the entire summer. My youngest simply missed her because she was his big sister. My oldest, he was just mad because HE wasn’t going to camp the whole summer.
So, to cheer them up, I cleared my day for an activity that would set us soaring and put us all in a good mood. We embarked on an extra long bicycle ride. On their bikes, they had to get along as brothers. They could not cut each other off because they would crash. The older one had to stay with the younger one and remind him about traffic rules like staying to the right of traffic, look out for parked cars, and stopping at stop signs.
Finally, after winding our way through side streets we had discovered in a previous bicycle ride. we made it to Brighton’s Buckland Park. Finally, I could let my guard down, if just a little, and feel free to let them ride in safety the park’s dirt bike trails that took us through tall bulrushes filled with red-winged blackbirds and over wooden bridges. On the paths, I didn’t have to think about a car coming up from behind them or, well YELL at them to get off their bikes and walk them across the busy intersections.
The other night, as I was drifting to sleep, came on the Late News that a 15-year-old boy had been killed while riding his bicycle. He was not wearing his helmet.The next day, my husband came home from work and let me know that the boy was the son of a man who worked at his office. When you live in a small town, the local news is very local.
Today, I also read about a woman in her 50’s who had just died from injuries she sustained while bicycling. She also was not wearing her bicycle helmet.
But, back to our joyful bicycle ride……
On our way home, I saw a kid of about 13 on his bicycle. We both came to a stop at a 4-way Stop intersection. He said “Hi” and I said “Hi” back.
Yeah, he had left the house with his bike helmet. But somewhere away from his mother’s eye – he took it off and strapped it not to his head but the handlebars of his bike.
Little did he know there are a lot of other mothers out there.
“Put on your helmet.” I said. No pussy-footing around this time, no saying “I’m sorry for being pushy” or “I hope you don’t mind saying..”
I just said it:
“Put on your hemet. A kid your age was just killed this week on his bicycle and HE was not wearing a helmet.”
Maybe another kid would have snickered and flipped me off. But all this kid said was:
“Okay.”
And the helmet went right back on his head.
IF YOU SEE SOMEONE, PARTICULARLY A KID THIS SUMMER WITHOUT A HELMET, BUTT IN AND TELL THEM TO PUT ONE ON!
Okay Campers, here is your cleanliness checklist:
In a few days, relative quiet will settle in my house as our eldest heads off for her first full summer at sleepaway camp.
In a few more weeks after that, the true peace will descend on our home as her oldest brother follows. Then, our family of five shrinks to a family of three for an entire month.
Sleepaway Camp. It’s like a child-parent sabbatical.
But kids, this is no time to slack off on basic hygiene, and I can only imagine how this all important priority in civilized life will backslide when you are out from the discerning eyes – and noses – of your parents.
I don’t know how you will manage without us, your nagging parents, to stay disease, filth, and cavity free, for the duration of your glorious summer camp experience. So for my kids and all those summer campers out there, here is a checklist:
These are nail clippers. They will keep your nails short and trimmed. Use them. They will prevent you from accumulating too much dirt underneath your fingernails, which may result in you becoming afflicted with a parasite that may take up home in your intestines.
These are bottles of shampoo. I have sent you up with ONE large bottle of shampoo, which is more than ample to last you the whole summer up at camp. If the shampoo bottle topples in the shower, please return it to its standing position.
You need about this much shampoo
not this much shampoo
to get the job done for an adequate cleaning.
Then, scrub.
Do not merely let the suds sit on the top of your wet head. But scrub and massage your scalp with the balls of your fingers. Then, rinse until you are squeaky.
And children who are at the age of adolescence and above, these are your armpits: 
Okay, so this not your armpit but the armpit of Tom Cruise. He’s an old guy to you but ask your moms about him and the movies he was in when they were young.
You must apply deodorant to your armpits at the beginning of EACH day, no matter how much it may tickle.
You must wash your armpits BEFORE you apply the deodorant. Application of deodorant after playing sports or even GaGa in the camp rec room and after an unpleasant odor has set in is ineffective.
This is your mouth:
Now, many of you may not have this perfect smile – yet. Your teeth may be imprisoned in those metallic braces, but know this: Your parents have spent about just as much money on those teeth in your head as they spent on that summer at sleep-a-way camp. So please: Brush, floss, rinse. At least two times a day.
And for those of you with braces, NO there is no substitute for gum while at camp, at home, or otherwise.
And please drink at least one glass of milk a day.
And change your sheets at least once a week.
And…. remember we love you and will miss you like crazy.
But most of all …. Have fun!
Get on Your Bike and Ride to Feel Like a Kid
To quote a song from Queen, “I Want To ride my Bicycle.”
I remember my first bike ride. It was shortly before I could ride a two-wheeler of my own. But my first cycling outing did not take place in one of those pediatrician-approved baby bicycle seats, a toddler bike trailer, or even a tandem bike. No.
Just before I learned to ride, an older girl on my block would take me for a spin on her Huffy Spyder bike with me sitting backwards on its banana seat. Bravely, I hung onto the u-shaped metal bar of the seat and waited for her to push off the curb. I marveled how she could balance us both on those two wheels. I remember watching the pavement roll away from beneath the wheels and feeling that uneasy tilt in my stomach when she made an unexpected turn, all the while assuring me that she wouldn’t fall.
Do you remember getting a ride like that, on a friend’s bike? Hanging on for dear life either on the back or riding on the handlebars? This was the 1970’s. This was before all the worry about safety and helmets. These days, finding kids riding like this or without a helmet is enough to warrant a call to Child Protective Services.
When I want to feel young, I ride my bicycle. I’m not an avid, up-at-dawn, century riding cyclist. I just like riding around the block, just like I did when I was a kid. All it takes is coasting along a stretch of flat road, the sound of the wheels spinning to take me back to childhood and the thrill of learning to ride a bike.
I learned when I was seven or eight. My parents got me my very own Huffy Spyder, complete with an iridescent banana seat and handlebars with streamers. And, a white woven basket decorated with flowers.
At first, I rode with training wheels but my dad at some point decided it was time to ditch them. So, he held onto the back and ran behind me as a pedaled. I started to get the hang of it, enough so that I guess dad felt confident enough to stop and talk to some neighbors – and let go. I went for a while, not realizing he wasn’t there. Riding straight was easy. Stopping was not.
After I crashed, dad encouraged me to get right back on.
May was Bike Month. Many communities around the continent hosted “Bike To Work” Weeks. My town, Rochester, NY was voted by Bicycling.com magazine, as one of the top 50 cities in the country to bike to work. Okay, so it came in 50 out of 50, but still, that’s pretty good for a town that sees an average of 90 inches of snow a year.
It’s no wonder that biking is one of the best ways to get fit. In fact, in a recent article, studies showed that biking increases happiness, suppresses appetite, and is just plain fun. And, as gas prices edge towards $4 per gallon, biking also saves money and is good for the environment.
But I didn’t have any specific reason in mind when my husband and two sons set out for a bike ride late in the afternoon over the weekend. We just wanted to spend some time together on a ride to the library to return some books, and maybe go a little further. And in the late spring air, zooming around the quiet streets of our town, I imagined myself anywhere: Cape May, Cape Cod, Martha’s Vineyard…we smelled the remains of the lilac bushes, fresh cut grass, and whatever was being grilled in someone’s backyard.
As we biked throgh the side streets of Brighton, my sons discovered where classmates live. We also stopped by the house of an older couple we knew. They are well into their 70’s. As they saw us pedaling by their house, the woman turned to her husband and said, “Now, why did we get rid of our bikes? We need to get new ones. There is no reason why we can’t ride too.”
In addition to chatting with our neighbors – something you can’t do while speeding by in a car – we discovered shortcuts that we wouldn’t have thought about while driving. A useful one ambles along quiet, curved streets and ends up at a traffic light that allows for safe passage into Buckland Park, one of Brighton’s newer recreation areas. This park contains, you guessed it – lots of bike paths. This will be very useful in the school free days ahead.
But bike riding with my kids reminds me that in reality, I am definitely no longer a child. Instead of feeling completely carefree, I am barking very grown-up, mom-like orders such as: “break at stop signs!” or “DON’T dart out into the middle of the road! That’s how you can get killed!”
Another reality that brings me back to my current age after a childlike bike ride: the ache in my very middle-aged knees.
What do you do to feel like a kid again?
Down and Dirty, Laissez faire Gardening
There are many magazine articles and blog posts that feature sumptuous photo spreads of gardens in full bloomed glory. Beds of perfect tulips. Rodent and insect-free vegetable gardens bursting with a unbitten, sun-ripened bounty.
This blog post will not be one of those. This is for the rest of us.
Any chance of me having one of those gardens, where the sun actually ripens tomatoes on the vine before the first frost, is gone. I missed out. For whatever reason – maybe it was procrastination, or maybe for lack of believing that winter would ever end this year – I missed the March 1 deadline in signing up for a plot in the Brighton Community Garden. Yes, I believe that day in March, we were under a blizzard warning.
Gardening up North can be frustrating. The season is very short. Veteran Rochester gardeners warn the uninitiated not to plant anything in the ground before Memorial Day weekend. I received gasps of horror when I informed some that I had planted my tomatoes two weeks ago. But they had become so leggy and pale looking under my basement grow lights, I really had no choice.
And my flowers? I’m trying not to have a meltdown after the bunnies in my garden CHOMPED off the heads the poppies that I have waited all winter to bloom. At least those red bugs have not attacked my Asiatic lilies. At least not yet.
That perfect garden is just not going to happen. So, this year I am just going to relax and keep it in perspective. I think about the ravaged midwest and how lucky we are in boring, tornado-free upstate New York. I think of the farmers who rely on the land and ideal weather conditions to make their living.
It has been one soggy spring, one of the rainiest in record in Western New York. In fact, in April, Western New York received 5.81 inches. So far, in May: 3.32 inches. Upstate farmers are weeks behind in planting their peas and corn. And the farmers at my East Hill CSA have already warned us that this year’s crops are getting a late start because of the soggy conditions.
This year, I am leaving my garden primarily up to nature, because I think She is the best gardener after all. I will embrace my failures.
The Zinnias that I started from seed in the winter are quite puny and can really use some sun and heat:
This Burpee "raspberry lemonade" zinnia did not make much progress under grow lights. Zinnias need heat to thrive
And tomatoes? These are the ones I planted from seed back in February, they also need some sun and need to dry out:
This tomato plant has a long way to go before it fills its cage
But some plants do well in cold wet weather. Here is a picture of the arugula I started from seed way back in the winter:
Arugula Grows well in cold weather - and the rabbits hate it.
But nature is the best gardener. I call these volunteers. This year, if it is not a weed, I’m letting it grow. And who cares if they are not in perfectly straight lines. If it is a seedling left over from last year, I’m letting it be and will let it grow:
Like Dill
Dill always comes back from the seeds of last year's plant: no need to replant.
That will go very nice with the cucumbers that will grow on this vine, also a pop-up volunteer:
Cucumber vine - or maybe it's a pumpkin vine/
And as for perennial flowers. If you see one of these growing in your garden, jump for joy. It is not a weed, but the start of a beautiful lupine:
Lupine Seedling
Leave it alone, just where it is, and it may grow up to look just like its mom:
A Fashion Statement I Regret Making
As I write this, I am watching the academy awards. No, my biggest fashion blunder thankfully wasn’t televised, nor was it as bad as Bjork’s Swan dress from 2001. But, in a time when one should try to act as cool as possible – the first day of high school – I truly missed the mark.
My 25th high school reunion is coming up. Now, I don’t remember what I wore my very last day as a high school student, but I sure remember what I wore the first day.
No, the picture below is not actually my legs. Thankfully, I dont think there is a photograph to document my first day of Freshman year of high school.
My mom had just started a subscription of Seventeen Magazine for me. The preppy look was totally “in” for the fall, according to Seventeen’s big, thick back-to-school August issue. Maybe if you went to a prep school in New Hampshire, but back in Staten Island, not so much.
So there I was, high school freshman, which is cause enough to get egged or suffer a head full of shaving cream the first day of high school. But no, I had to draw further attention to myself with khaki knickers, argyle socks and penny loafers.
I just got it all wrong.
About Me
Kreativ Blogger
Versatile Blogger Award
Stacy Gittleman 