From May through October, there are not many places better than central New York.
Summer here is taking a nap in the hammock while your family digs in the vegetable garden and an unnervingly bold family of deer grazes nearby.
It’s poking through milkweed patches and finding monarch caterpillars to bring home, and, if you’re two, it’s screaming in delight when your parents open the enclosure and you can watch your transformed, temporary pets flutter up toward the sun.
Summer is kayaking and sailing and jumping off docks and swimming under waterfalls and boating and tubing and trying but failing to waterski.
You can argue over whose marshmallow-roasting technique is most refined and eat too many of them in the comparison process and, as it gets later and darker, watch bats dart through the sky and the strobe of fireflies as you drink wine from the vineyard up the street.
And then back-to-school comes and that’s busy, and then October is just as perfect as summer but with the addition of apple-picking and cold breezes and pumpkin beer, and then there’s the fun and forward momentum of the holidays.
And then it’s January, and the gloom descends, and it stays.
This year, I wanted to be proactive about heading off the grim, gritted-teeth February blues. In the past, we’ve often escaped for a visit to my in-laws’ in Florida, and that always helps. Since we didn’t travel this year, we tried to give ourselves other things to look forward to; we threw a party for Mallory’s birthday, and we invited people over for dinner. Those helped. But the thing that’s most carried me through the dark and frigid and slushy winter months is taking a daily twenty-minute walk.
On her podcast Happier, Gretchen Rubin called for her listeners to commit to her Walk 20 in 20 challenge. I don’t exactly know why it clicked with me, but I’ve missed only a few days since January 1st, and I feel noticeably better than in years past. I’ve always scoffed at that adage they tell you Scandinavian people say about no bad weather, only bad clothes—like, of course there is bad weather, have you not noticed the sleet pelting the window?—but seeing my kids’ enthusiasm to suit up and come with me when it’s overcast and twenty-four degrees outside has been pretty persuasive. We talk about their days at school and notice the animal tracks in the snow and throw pebbles through the thin layer of ice over the stream. We redirect Mallory from running into the middle of the street over and over and make it about a third as far as when I go on my own. We notice how the days are getting a little brighter and lighter with each passing week, and I notice how I am too.
Show Your Work: Extra Credit Responses
Last week, I shared that we are all struggling with my preschooler’s middle-of-the-night fears and bad dreams, and begged for solutions. Kelly wrote:
“When I was little, probably around 6 or so, I was terrified of ghosts at night. I was spending the night at a family friend's house one night and when she was tucking me in, I told her how scared I was of ghosts and she was like, "well, you know the secret to stay safe from ghosts, right? Ghosts can't see your head, so if you get under the covers and pull them up to your neck and stay under the blanket, they won't know you're there and you'll be safe."
Objectively, this makes no sense, but it totally worked on me, and probably had the added bonus that I was safer in my bed under the covers than getting out of bed to go wake up a parent.”
This sort of rationalizing-the-nonsensical response is sometimes effective for Amelia, too. The other night she was up at 3:30 AM, crying about whether a creepy mask she’d seen on TV was real, and in a stroke of desperation I told her to instead think about things she’s absolutely sure ARE real, and that…..worked??! (For one night, anyway. Lolsob.)
Still eagerly accepting any and all suggestions. Reply to the newsletter from your inbox.
Ask A Teacher
This year I have multiple ninth grade boys who know a lot about history, particularly about the two world wars, which we are studying now. This happens every year, and generally I allow those boys a moment to flex their knowledge and help other kids. This year is different.
These boys are pompous and dismissive of me—they apparently know everything. I’ve had students like this before, and redirecting when they go off topic or too far or having a private conversation used to work. It’s not. These boys talk over me and tell me I’m wrong. (I have no problem admitting I don’t know things, but I’m not wrong here.) Other kids are getting uncomfortable. Private conversations and emails home are responded to with an “OK.” Sometimes they stop talking over me for a couple of days. But they do go back to it.
I know exactly, exactly, exactly the dynamic of which this letter-writer speaks—as does Katie Holbrook, the high school teacher who answered the question. I heartily endorse and second her response:
There’s something I’d like all parents and male educators to hear: What this teacher describes is real. I have experienced this sort of sexism firsthand. Many students bring sexist attitudes to school with them and treat their female teachers differently. Sometimes it’s an unconscious bias; other times it’s outright disrespect or even harassment.
Yes. This is A Thing, right down to the specific type that is the World-War-II-History-Buff-in-Training. You can read the rest of the column for her suggestions, plus letters about gifted program selection anxiety, a third grader who isn’t handling her classroom structure well, and a fifteen-year-old with poor test-taking skills. (I do not recommend taking a gander at the ol’ comment section, though, unless you want to explode into a cloud of impotent rage confetti and immediately close the tab, as I did.)
Recommendations for Your Parenting…
On Saturday, we attended CatVideoFest at a local movie theater:
CatVideoFest curates a compilation reel of the latest, best cat videos culled from countless hours of unique submissions and sourced animations, music videos, and of course, classic internet powerhouses. Screenings raise money for cats in need, often through partnerships with local cat charities, animal welfare organizations, and shelters.
Our kids positively squealed with laughter at the cat video supercut, and because of the generally festive atmosphere, nobody minded that Mallory frequently punctuated her giggles with shouts of “WASS DAT KITTY DOIN?!?!?” At an hour and fifteen minutes of clips, it was ultimately too long to hold her attention (she and I left to walk up and down the stairs in the lobby), but Amelia loved it start to finish. It’s playing all over the place throughout the spring; check out the list of participating theaters!
If you live in a college town, I recommend that you find out if the university near you has a polo team, and that you go to a match. I would never have known about ours unless my chiropractor tipped me off! But when we brought the kids for the first time, we learned that polo matches are:
Played indoors during the winter
About an hour long
Free to watch
Loud and raucous, so no one will even notice your family’s noise
Easy to follow
A place to see (and offer stream-of-consciousness narration about) lots and lots of horses running back and forth at high speed
It was, quite surprisingly, one of the most kid-friendly activities we’ve done around here, and we’ve made a point to go every year since. Try it if you can!
And For Yourself
I really need every last one of you to read Such a Fun Age, by Kiley Reid:
A striking and surprising debut novel from an exhilarating new voice, Such a Fun Age is a page-turning and big-hearted story about race and privilege, set around a young black babysitter, her well-intentioned employer, and a surprising connection that threatens to undo them both.
I thought the characterization of both Emira (the babysitter) and Alix (her employer) was so skillful; they’re both admirably complex. It would have been easy to make Alix a one-note cartoon of a Nice White Feminist, and Kiley Reid definitely skewers her with precision, but it’s a nuanced and empathetic portrayal, too. The last line is so perfect that I almost laughed out loud at its excellence. Go and read it and come back here and email me because I am DYING to talk to someone about it.
As a millenial woman, I remember well the meteoric rise of LuLaRoe documented in “Millenial Women Made LuLaRoe Billions. Then They Paid the Price.” (In the heyest of the 2016 heyday, I drove twelve miles out of my way to attend a consultant’s ‘live pop-up’ and see what all the fuss was about for myself. I did buy some leggings!) And if you’re interested in the company’s (……….pyramid-like) structure as described in the article, then I recommend The Dream, a podcast that’s both highly informative and super engrossing. Season 1 is all about MLMs like LuLaRoe (and Mary Kay, and Beachbody, and Young Living, and so on.). It both ruthlessly exposes the predatory practices of the companies and compassionately explores why so many women get involved. (It’s lost its way in Season 2, though, so don’t bother with that.)
Get in touch, especially if you are a female teacher who has also dealt with subtle sexism from your teenage students:
Email: extracredit.newsletter@gmail.com…or just reply to the newsletter directly from your inbox!
Twitter: @carrie_AB_