Category Archives: New Years

January 4, 2013 · 8:33 am

Hula (not Hulu)

At our New Year’s Eve block party – amidst a moonlit game of hide and seek, an unlimited supply of colorful glow sticks, gorgeous fireworks, marshmallows, and an “it’s dark, way past our bedtime, and no one seems to care as long we don’t run into the street” atmosphere – Dylan asked for his Kindle Fire.  Begged, actually.

This story (confession?) is both a glowing endorsement of the impressive HD Amazon tablet and a warning sign that my kids are overexposed to technology.

I remember being at a neighbor’s luau-themed 40th birthday party when I was a kid.  I was probably about Dylan’s age at the time, and my parents (and most of the adults there) were about my age now…maybe even a few years younger.

Editor’s note: Does this happen to you? You recall a childhood memory and then realize you’re now the same age as or – gulp – older than your parents were in the memory. When this happens – and the frequency is increasing – I feel a tightness in my chest and a desire to fill an online shopping cart at piperlime.com.

Anyhow, the luau was awesome.  We got to wear grass skirts and leis.  We swam, ate junk food, ran around barefoot, and stayed up way past our bedtimes.  Our parents were tipsy (sloshed?), and there was even a Hula dance contest.  If I recall correctly, my neighbor’s daughter and I won.  Our prize was that we could pick one night and stay up as late as we wanted.  As late as we wanted?!  It was like winning the lottery even though everyone knew we’d never make it past 10pm.

Whether or not my recollection of this night is accurate (we all know my memory stinks), there’s no doubt that it was a magical night and a memory – no matter how fuzzy – that has stayed with me all these years.  And since it was approximately 1982, there were no Kindle Fires – and no “Transformer Rescue Bots” on Netflix, no “Where’s My Water” and “Cut the Rope” apps, and no Dark Knight movies on Flickster – to beg for at a neighborhood party under a starlit sky.

I’m not one of those anti-technology parents.  Clearly.  I mean, my boys don’t have cell phones or Facebook accounts (though that time will come soon enough), but they watch television.  They watch movies.  They play video games on the Xbox.  They play games on the computer.  I have apps on my iPhone and iPad for them.  (Did I tell you I got an iPad for Hanukkah?  I did!)  They each have Kindle Fires, and they play with them at bedtime on some nights.  Okay, every night.  But, don’t get judgy.  We read books, too.  And never say never.   Eventually, it’ll get you in trouble.

I don’t want to keep my kids away from technology (or hide it from them), but that doesn’t mean I know how to properly navigate the “on demand” world in which we live.  No matter how much I enjoy having technology at my fingertips (and I do), I also grew up in a world in which it wasn’t.  Dylan and Riley, on the other hand, will never know a Google-less, YouTube-less world.  Their ease with technology will help them in life, but that doesn’t mean I want them to bury their faces in a tablet when they could be watching fireworks, playing hide and seek in the dark, or doing the Hula (not Hulu).

I realize this is a familiar generational conversation, but the mobility and speed of information, news, and entertainment nowadays is hardly an analogy to “I remember the when the remote control was attached to the TV by a cord!”  (I do remember that, by the way.)

For the record, I said “no” to Dylan’s repeated request for his Kindle Fire at the block party.  A bit later in the evening, Mike gave in and allowed him to hold it but not turn it on, which just might be an even more troubling sign of addiction, but, alas, my iPhone was in my back pocket the whole night, too.  I didn’t use it except to snap this New Year’s Eve 2012 picture…

D&R2012

…but I did hold it close.  All night.

I have no grand epiphany to share here except that there should be balance.  For every minute spent glued to a screen, there should be equal amounts of imaginative, make believe, dirty, sweaty, sticky, smelly, cardiovascular, Hula dancing, giggling, scrapes-on-the-knees kind of play.  As I type these last few sentences, I can hear all kinds of spirited “play” noises coming from Dylan’s bedroom where he’s playing with a bucket of superhero toys.  Riley, on the other hand, woke up earlier in the morning crying from a bad dream about not being able to watch “Transformer Rescue Bots” on his Kindle.  Worry not.   He’s watching it now.

What are your technology opinions, aspiration, and rules?  I know age plays a big role here, so if you comment, state the ages of your kids. 

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Filed under New Years, parenting, technology

January 1, 2013 · 10:47 am

Resolution

I have one New Years Resolution this year.  Just one.  It helps that I painted my bedroom this past weekend, a “to do” that’s been on my radar for over two years.  It also helps that reading and running (mind clearing and creativity producing activities) will (hopefully) aid me in achieving my solitary resolution.

Here goes… My singular (monstrous, exhilarating, terrifying, crazy-ass) New Years Resolution is to write a book.  The Book.  There.  I said it out loud.  The current working title is Holy Crap, Am I Really Doing This?  (For the record, I’m also considering The Runaway Mama.)

This isn’t the first time I’ve had an idea to write a book.  No, my brilliant botched book proposals go way back.  Mike jokes that I was born with a book idea.  For instance, I Didn’t Go Through The Tunnel: A Memoir Of A Cesarean Baby.  Or, Coping With An Older Sibling Who Wants To Murder You.  (It’s a true story that my sister stuffed a box of raisins in my mouth when I was a baby).

For all of my inspiration over the years, I never expected motherhood to be the thing that finally gave me my voice.  In honor of The Book, here is a list of all of the failed (but earnest) book ideas that, for some reason or another, led me here.

First, there was an untitled “how to” book about being young, living it up and paying the bills in The Big Apple. The only snag was that my parents were supporting my Bloomingdale’s and Bumble & Bumble habit and paying half of my rent every month.  Then came Lift Your Leg From The Foot And Other Life Lessons (a working title), a book about all of the life lessons I learned in the dance studio.  Good idea, but it’s taken years to realize all of the lessons and I’m not nearly done.

Later came the idea for a book of poetry on the sadness and regret I felt about morphing from an aspiring modern dancer into a public relations professional with a cubicle.  (Rent and health insurance was a bitch!)  One of many problems with that book idea was that I’m not a poet.

You would think the depressing poetry anthology was my rock bottom.  You would be wrong.  Next came the idea for A Year of Un-gratitude.  It was just after 9-11, everything was scary and kind of sucked, and I was one pessimistic, CNN-obsessed chick.  The flaw?  I couldn’t sustain the cynicism.  Believe me, it was a grim time, but I was also newly engaged and planning my wedding.  On September 1, 2002, I had a New York City wedding with all of the personal touches I wanted, and not surprisingly, I had a novel idea to write How To Plan The Wedding You Want.   Because there weren’t enough of those books on the shelves at Barnes & Noble!

Soon after, my book aspirations went dormant.  In the summer of 2004, when we packed up seven years of New York City/Brooklyn life in less than three weeks to move to Miami, you might suspect I had an itch to write a “starting over,” “surviving new city culture shock,” “kick-starting a nonprofit career,” or “making new friends at 30” book.  I didn’t.  In 2005, I tried to write about my molar pregnancy, but my emotions were too raw.

As it turns out, this blog was my awakening.  For more than two years, it’s been an incredible opportunity to make all of my experiences – including the ones that inspired my crappy book ideas – relevant.  Even if I wasn’t actually born with a book idea, perhaps I was born to write a book.

“Everybody has a calling, and your real job in life is to figure out what that is and get about the business of doing it.” – Oprah Winfrey

In 2013, I’m getting about my business.  I’m writing a book.

Dear marathon, five ten pounds, family photo albums, scrapbooks, and backyard garden:

We’ll meet again in 2014.

Sincerely,

The Runaway Mama

What are your resolutions for 2013?

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Filed under book, motherhood, New Year's resolutions, New Years, Oprah, September 11th