Policia de Catalunya

Greetings. We just finished a harmonious family dinner involving . . . soup. And I felt like Corabeth.
Dear God, please tell me you remember Corabeth, the prickly, turn-of-the-century Miss Manners of Walton's Mountain? The woman with the Gibson Girl up-do who married Mr. Godsey, owner of Ike Godsey's General Merchandise?
The woman who smugly tried to "civilize" every person within a ten mile radius with her intricate doilies and pinkies-up poses?
Well, I channeled her tonight. I never mean to, but I did.
At the dinner table, here's how it went:
Me (to Mr. M): Please. Stop. Your caveman bearing is unbearable.
Mr. M: I'm not being a caveman.
Me: You look like you're bracing for an attack from rabid dogs.

Mr. M: Mom, there are no dogs here, just me.
Me: Just my point. Put that arm in your lap, please. You are not a wild animal. There is no need to protect your bowl.
Mr. M: silence and inertia
Me: Put that arm in your LAP, please. Now!
Mr. M (putting arm in lap): slurp.
Me: Stop the slurping! Outward, outward! The spoon is always moving outward. That's right. Now gently tip the contents into your mouth -- do not put the entire spoon in your mouth. That's why it's large and that's why it's called a soup spoon.
Mr. M (exasperated): Mom! With this bowl, I can't even get a full bite (he was right.) This is impossible (right again).
Me: You'll thank me for this when you're a grown-up. Do you know how many men I turned down for a second date, because of their manners?
Mr. M (slurping, surprisingly curious): No. How many?
Me (lying): Too few many to count. Uh-oh. You have a wayward bean on your place mat. Better get him.
Mr. M (grinning, and purposefully): SLURP.
Me: You know, if I were a girl on a date with you and I witnessed this caveman, slurping situation, I wouldn't go out with you again.
Mr. M (with now nearly perfect manners): You're a strict girl.

Me: Yes, yes I am. And you'd better hope you find a strict girl, as opposed to a, uh, loose girl who is not so strict.
Husband: I don't think anyone eats soup like that any more these days.
Yowza!
At that point I went into survival mode and thought it best to stop things right there, before I got any further behind.
But a word in my defense: there were no more slurps and there's no more soup.
And the recipe? So easy a caveman can do it. Here, the Caveman's Hearty Soup:
1 large potato, diced
4 c. water
2 cans Campbells' bean and bacon soup
1 chorizo (cured) sausage (and you can get it w/no nitrites/nitrates at Whole Foods)
1 can (do not drain) turnip or collard greens
Throw it all together in a big pot on the stove and cook until the potatoes are done. Then? Eat.
P.S.: On a completely unrelated note that I can't help but mention, is anyone watching the Massachusetts Senatorial Special Election polls? Even if you're not a political bug, this match-up deserves your attention. Seven weeks ago, it looked like the GOP had a better chance winning the lottery than beating the entrenched Democratic Martha Coakley. But now? It's looking like a jump ball.

Labels: Children, Manners, Soup, Spoons

For years I've been called mad mean (by those who shall remain nameless) because I've said absolutely not to the DS and the Wii. Christmases in recent years have been . . . umm, well, turbulent.
Reporting from my bunker, the battle shapes up as, "Husband and Mr. M vs. cruel and heartless Mom."
Putting aside the fact these gadgets aren't cheap, I've always thought that most children spend too much time on the computer or watching TV and it's not healthy. Turns out . . . I was right.
Citing an article from a liberal progressive source, I am, but I'll take my told-you-so ammo wherever I can get it.
This must-read article is called "7 Things You Should Know About Your Internet-Interrupted Brain."
Photo credit: Arvind Balaraman
It explains how exposure to computers, video games, and television affects our brains and diminishes our ability to achieve.
Children, with their developing brains, are particularly vulnerable.
Here, a few snippets from the article:
Too many interruptions, as Carr points out, and you lose your ability to move information from working into long term memory, where we can retrieve, contemplate and re-enact it -- in other words, think. Long term memories are for many of us our brain's "savings." They're what we will depend on in life to work and survive. We need such memories for learning, for pleasure and for creativity, and happen far less if we ceaselessly multitask through multimedia.
The new ways we use our brains also provokes hyper-arousal, the nervous, keyed up feeling that comes from doing so many things all at once. Too much arousal and your buzzing brain can't think straight. Without good long term memory and the thoughtful, deeper learning it provides, youngsters may never fully accomplish what they might. They run the risk of spending their lives as flunkies, rather than getting their chance to be the boss.
* * *
The hyperfast interactions of video games and the [inter]net produce a state of overwhelmed sensation, a kind of "can you top this" sensory overload that soon becomes its own reward. The effects are particularly damaging to kids. As they jump from image to image many kids become so over-aroused that they cannot sleep. They soon find vending machines chocked full of energy drinks that keep them awake. As caffeine reduces normal sleep, more teenagers turn to alcohol or pills in order to get any kind of rest. They fall into the "Up-Down Trap" so common to entertainers, performers and workaholic professionals. Soon they're hooked to more than their monitors.So for as long as I can hold out, Mr. M will remain wii-less, the no-gadget lone ranger, walking the street. He'll keep riding his bike and playing with his buddies, drawing chalk figures on sidewalks, collecting rocks, scootering around the neighborhood, and capturing bugs.
Photo credit: Bill Longshaw
And you can't put a price tag on that.

Labels: Attention, Children, Computers, Ds, Focus, Interrupted Brain, Learning, Long-Term Memory, Matthew Edlund, Video Games

Congressman Aaron Schock has bared nearly all for the June issue of Men's Health, in furtherance of the war against childhood obesity.
Go on, look again. For a pause that refreshes, watch this coverage by one constipated Dem, and clearly bored, reporter.

Yet this GOP Joe Sixpack goes out of his way to laud Michelle Obama's "Let's Move" campaign for children.
"We can't just leave it up to the parents."
Schock points out that he and the First Lady both hail from Illinois, where:
One out of five Illinois children are considered obese. Not overweight, obese. And two-thirds of Americans are either overweight or obese. When people hear that, they're shocked, and rightfully so.It's a pity we don't see more of Schock.
The number of obese children has more than tripled since 1980. For the first time in our history, children are not expected to outlive their parents.
Doctors are wringing their hands. Pediatricians debate whether to call a child "overweight" or the more stigma-laden word "obese," while the National Association to Advance Fat Acceptance weighs in with its own acceptable terms. Broke-back mothers can no longer hold their babes in arms. Experts scratch their heads.
So what is causing this burgeoning epidemic? School lunches? Computers? The stress from TSA pat-downs?
Or . . .

could it be . . .

dare I say it . . .
surely not . . .
strollers?
� 2011, .

Labels: Aaron Schock, Baby Pat-Downs, Children, Lunches, School