Saturday, July 31, 2010

Camp




Taylor loved Camp…I mean, she really, really loved camp.

I was nervous as all get out to send her away, to a remote spot in Maine. For 2 weeks. Without a cell phone. Without computer access. No communication with the outside world.

She was in charge of her own decisions, laundry, oral hygiene, cleanliness, appropriate attire, manners and daily general direction. Did I mention without cell and computer access? (AKA without my ever vigilant and vociferous reminders of what to do and every day love affirmations.)

She apparently blossomed during her stint at camp. She made friends with campers and counselors.

She tried new things, new activities, made friends that she would have never made before. (Including new friends from France.) She went white water rafting and sailing. She did crafts. She signed up for sports that I would have never previously believed she would be interested in.

She became a new, more experienced, more daring, more open version of her former self than the one I put on a plane in early June.

Even her Grandmother (Her Mimi, who is my own Mom) said after she returned, “Whatever you paid to put Taylor in that Camp, it was well worth it. She is a different and more amiable and happy girl.”

Taylor said to me (when I FINALLY talked to her after she left Camp), “I didn’t want to leave, Mom!”

I was never sent to sleepaway camp, so I am among those who “don’t get it.” But, I have spent a lot of time listening to what Tay has shared as well as listening to ‘This American Life – Thoughts on Camp.”

From the moment she left camp, Taylor has been begging me for a 5 week long stay next summer.

I let the thought germinate. Next summer she will be almost 16. She might have a High School boyfriend by then.

Suddenly, sending her to camp (that non-communication, won’t be able to affix my stink eye on her while she enjoys outdoor activities) seemed a whole lot more palatable.

The sticker price is not.

This summer I sent Tay for the early (relatively cheaper) session in the beginning of June. It was less expensive than the other sessions as most children (with wealthy parents) don’t get out of school until a couple weeks later.

Her camp sent me an e-mail announcing that if I signed her on NOW for next summer – I would get another $700 discount.

So, not knowing if I would get a bonus next year, or if I could save up the necessary funds, I put the decision in Taylor’s court.

(Note – same 2 week early session is $1300 as opposed to $1600 from this year. All 5 weeks she is requesting would be $4995)

My prerequisite is that Tay must get a job (note – she is only 14) for me to consider putting her in camp next summer for 5 weeks.

At first, she was all onboard with the idea. “Of course Mom, I’ll get a job and help!”

Then, this week, reality set in when I took her to Publix to apply for a job.

Publix has a convenient employment application lobby kiosk. Initially, Tay wanted to skip this week and start the next one because of sleepover plans. I quietly acquiesced.

But, I told her later in the car that I would take my cues from her. If she felt that getting together with a girlfriend took precedence over work, then I would see camp as a secondary priority and would conduct myself as such.

Before you think I am being too harsh, I will tell you that Donnie and I are considering delaying our epic trip down US1 so that Tay can realize her vision of going to camp one last time. (She will be too ‘old’ after next summer)

After seeing the enormous positive change in her, my wonderful and patient husband is completely onboard with having her go back to camp, and is one with sacrificing (delaying) our dream vacation one year.

Initially, Taylor was okay with me (us) sacrificing OUR dreams. However, once I schooled her on the ‘unfairness,’ she began to see that her decisions impact not only her, but everyone around her…which is an important lesson.


As she might work at a minimum-wage-earning job, I know it will not make a dent in the 5K needed for her 5 weeks at camp next year. However, I feel that she has to put in a little sacrifice and a little hard work…is that wrong?



The picture above is of Taylor at Camp…I loved it as it was candid.

Have you ever gone to camp? Am I being too harsh? Please share…

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Being a Teen




A friend of mine sent me this picture via Facebook this morning. It was taken before heading out to Junior Prom – circa 1986.

Ahhh, 1986. Reagan was President, George Sr was his Vice President. In January, the Challenger exploded moments after take off, killing all 7 on board including the woman who was supposed to be the first teacher in space (there is a local school, Christa McAuliffe Middle, named for her.) Top Gun was the top movie and television programming was rife with family oriented sitcoms like The Cosby Show and Family Ties. (Reality shows wouldn’t make an appearance in the US for at least another 8 years with the debut of the Real World in 1992.)

And as for me? I was an insecure and shy 16 year old 11th Grade High Schooler, about to go to my first Prom.

While I have recently unearthed several similar photographs from the same time frame, it still startled me to see my 16 year old face, staring into the camera, in a shot that I either haven’t seen in 24 years or possibly never had.

I look serious…or perhaps I am trying to look sultry, I can’t remember. I do recall that I was disappointed that I didn’t have a date of my own for Junior Prom. Instead, I had a blind date; a friend of my girlfriend Laura’s boyfriend. So perhaps my gaze is arranged strategically in a poker face as to not betray any nervousness.

I have little memory of the evening, except that my girlfriend had a wonderful time with her boyfriend – and that my date was just as nervous and uncomfortable as I was.

Poor guy. I wish I could remember his name (was it Paul?), and track him down (though that would surely creep him out) and give him a check for $100 to cover what I am sure was an expensive evening for a teenager when he would have been much happier staying home playing Dungeons and Dragons…or whatever non-uber-uncomfortable-blind-Prom-date thing he liked to do.

I re-posted the picture later today on my own wall on Facebook, as sort of a “ha, ha, look at me…look at the funny hairstyle (and GLOVES, for gods sakes!)” Many of the comments I received were about how much Taylor looks like me. Which of course, is complimentary, but also stunned me into thinking again…in the picture, I am only about a year and a half older than she is right now. (How in the hell did that happen?)

The realization of how close in age my daughter is to the ‘picture me’ gave me pause. Today, she is right there where I was. A teenager, one foot planted in being a little girl with one toe testing the waters of womanhood. Literally begging to throw on the cloak of adulthood, yet shedding it quickly enough when the pressures are too intense.

I look back at the picture of the teenage me, and see her a little differently than I did initially (Though I don’t think I look so different now, ahem.)

She has no idea what lies ahead. She has only hopes and dreams. And, a naïve blind belief that there is good in most people.

Given what I know is ahead in my own life after that photo was taken, (and what lies ahead for my own daughter), I want to give the ‘picture me’ a hug (which I am sure would be unwelcome if my own teenager is any example) and tell her that things really do turn out okay.



You won’t drive to LA to be a movie star…but you’ll look like one in your twenties
• There will be no knight in shining armor…but when you are ready, the right man will come along that treasures you and treats you like a movie star you once believed you would be.
• You won’t be fabulously wealthy…but you will have enough wealth to be fabulously happy
• Your work will not be not what you imagined…but different, and better than you imagined
• You won’t ever be intimidated…because you’ll always know you are the smartest person at the table
• You will not live in a castle…but every day when you step through the threshold of your humble abode, it will feel like one.
• You will not have 6 children…you will have one, a child who embodies, and is, all the best attributes of 6 children

• Believe me, you will be happy…


So have you ever looked back? Seen a picture of your teenage self and wanted to guide them? Or a desire to pass on words of comforting encouragement to your children?

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

I Heart NYC



To my (few) readers: apologies as the following blog is more of a diary – and a bit lengthy.

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We marked another milestone in our busy summer when we returned home from New York City yesterday with my daughter.

Donnie and I arrived on Friday late afternoon into JFK and took a cab to our friend’s (Courtney, Shattuck and their 2 ½ year old son, Trent) Upper East side apartment where Taylor had already arrived a couple of days earlier.

As much as I had fantasized about a meaningful, heartfelt reunion with my darling progeny when we locked eyes for the first time in 23 days, the reality was a bit anticlimactic. After I greeted our friends (and kind of pushed them aside) my daughter rose from the couch where she had been sitting with a shy smile. I clutched her close to me and held onto her shoulders fiercely…long after her embrace had relaxed. “Oh, Mom,” she said, “You’re not crying again are you?” And yes, I definitely was.

We all had take-out that night at the apartment and then Courtney and I were afforded a rare “Mommy’s Night Out” while the husbands sat at home. She and I sampled 3 different glasses of white wine in three different establishments all within a two block radius. Though this was my 4th visit to NYC, I was still taken by surprise by the convenience of everything, the proximity of buildings and human beings and the sheer efficiency of space. The latter I was reminded of during a visit to the Ladies Room (nix that – the one and only BATHROOM in a wine bar) when I had to shimmy sideways and turn around to use the commode.

The next morning, as Al Roker had proclaimed it would be a great day for New Yorkers to “clean out a closet or two” due to expected torrential downpours, we decided to visit the Museum of Natural History.

Because the promised deluge had not yet started, we gamely decided to walk through Central Park to get to the Museum. Central Park was the first landscaped municiapal park in the United States. It opened to the public in 1859, after much political debate and planning (and sadly the displacement of some 1600 low income residents.) Today its 843 acres boast a well known Zoo, running and walking trails, basketballs courts, concerts and other events…and many, many other things, including (kind of) the museum we were on our way to see just outside of its Western border.

We entered the Central Park just above East 76th Street. Within just a few strides, the hum and amped up feeling of the city streets was gone and was replaced with the rustle of the trees, humidity dripping from leaves and the occasional shout of a child. We skirted the Conservatory Pond; the model sailboats in it mostly still on this un-busy summer day. We walked uphill past Loeb Boathouse and watched as florists carried unbelievable multi-colored floral arrangements into the back for what must have been a wedding later in the day. We passed a Karate lesson in action and had to stop for a moment (huffing and puffing from the exertion) to allow a race of runners and bikers pass by on Central Park West. I was enchanted as always by this enormous green oasis in the middle of the big city.

We finally entered the American Museum of Natural History and I had to stop myself from just laying down on the floor to soak up the cool and air conditioning. According to its website, The Museum of Natural History is “one of the world's preeminent scientific and cultural institutions. Since its founding in 1869, the Museum has advanced its global mission to discover, interpret and disseminate information about human cultures, the natural world and the universe through a wide-ranging program of scientific research, education and exhibition.”

Upon arriving, we purchased tickets to see “Hubble,” an IMAX film about the troublesome Space Station. Before show time however, we managed to scoot around quickly to see many of the exhibits, including my favorite – the enormous life-sized Blue Whale suspended from the ceiling in the Milstein Hall of Ocean Life. The Hubble film was entertaining and a little unsettling with the images that the orbiting telescope has taken of the earth. (I find the idea that we are able to see birthing and dying stars BILLIONS of light years away with such clarity a bit unnerving.)

After lunch in a swanky area of the Upper West side, Courtney and Shattuck took their young’un back home and Taylor, Donnie and I went back to the museum for another hour. The three of us felt smug when we saw and knew that the rendition of the Coral Snake in the Reptiles and Amphibians exhibit was incorrect (red didn’t touch yellow as it should have.)

I wanted to walk back to the apartment but was vetoed and we cabbed it back…just in time to rest up and get ready to go to a Broadway Show.

Originally, we had plans to see a High School friend of mine perform in HAIR. Much to my great disappointment, (and I am sure, hers) the production closed a few days before we arrived into town. Since our friends had already seen Wicked (which I have heard is the BEST!), we opted instead to see Promises, Promises which is a re-make of the ‘60’s film “The Apartment” starring Shirley Maclaine. The big draw to the show was Kristin Chenoweth (I have always admired the tremendous voice housed in her diminutive body) I was also looking forward to seeing Sean Hayes (from Will and Grace) as well as the Tony-winning performance of Katie Finneran.

The 5 (I didn’t want to leave Taylor out of the experience) of us had a lovely Italian dinner in the theater district before seeing the play.

After dinner we made our way down busy Broadway to the theater. I had managed to get us seats in the 8th row for the show. The performance was electrifying…especially when Kristin first made her entrance and the entire audience started whooping and hollering. Sean Hayes was spot-on hilarious. The dancing and songs were knee-tapping. There was just one little thing, which as the show went on became the White Elephant in the middle of the room. Kristen had this thing on her forehead, right at the widow’s peak of her wig. It reminded me of a Bindi, but it was too high to be one.

During the intermission, I was in line for the bathroom in front of two Broadway / Chenoweth groupies. I listened to them chirp away about their drama school and how one of them knew Kristin and how FABULOUS she is. I dared to ask of them, “since you know Kristin, can you please tell me, what is that thing on her forehead?” One of them answered me, but not without disdain, “that is her microphone. All Broadway stars wear it there.” I replied that I had seen several Broadway shows (well, this was my second) and I had never seen that before and that I found it to be distracting. The Cheno-goupies sniffed, silenced and looked away from me. Oh well.

Once I retuned to my seat, I found all of our seat mates engaged in a heated discussion. “WTF WAS that on her forehead? So distracting!” I passed along the new information I had obtained and everyone sighed and agreed that the microphone on the forehead was a disruption to the performance.

After the play, we walked Broadway once again to catch a cab back to the apartment. We all agreed that tomorrow would be the day to walk the Brooklyn Bridge.

We woke bright and early Sunday morning and took 2 cabs to Chinatown. After walking the sidewalks of Chinatown and Little Italy, we circled back and got to the walking entrance (smelly, piss and feces covered steps) of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The sun was hot, my legs were tired, my daughter was complaining every step of the way…but we did it! We walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. We bought t-shirts from an independent artist who positioned himself on the first leg of the journey. We wondered why someone would leave a pink furry hobby horse at the top spire, we talked about getting to Grimaldi’s Pizza under the bridge, close to the water.

Grimaldi’s was supposed to be our Mecca after walking so far. It was mentioned in the guide books as being the “place to go” in Brooklyn after walking across the bridge. The best pizza in all of New York. Our tired group dragged our feet up Old Fulton Street and saw the Promised Pizza Land….with a LONG line outside 15 minutes before the restaurant was supposed to open. We did a quick vote among us and decided that hunger won out over prized destination….and enjoyed Pizza and beer at a Pizza place NEAR the one we intended to visit. My husband and Shattuck enjoyed home brewed Brooklyn # 2 beer. As my husband would say, I like my beer like my women, “dark and bitter.”

The next day (Monday), I was committed to showing Taylor SoHo. I knew this would be the likely place for her to see celebrities and the likely place for her to find a funky little store that she liked and that was within my budget.

When we entered one of the stores, I knew we hit the jackpot when she said to me, “I feel bad…can we ask them if we can stay a bit longer?”

So I sent Donnie, Courtney and Trent down the street to get fortifying beverages at Starbucks. While they were gone my girl twirled, hemmed and hawed and plucked t-shirts off the rack – she was in her element. In the end, we left with 4 really super cute tops that she will wear in High School.

If and when we have the opportunity to come back, I think that SoHo and the Village would be the places that Taylor would like to explore.

We said goodbye to our friends yesterday morning. During the late morning meal, Trent was a bit fussy, perhaps anticipating the final “bye, bye.” He and Tay had become close – and Trent referred to us as HIS friends. As in “where are my friends Mama?”

I am grateful beyond words that my friend Courtney took in my daughter for a couple days – and introduced her to some of the City’s more genteel parts.

I am also grateful that she and her husband sponsored our family’s most recent romp through the Big Apple.

I hope that someday I can repay the favor.

So – have you been to NYC? Do you love it or hate it? Any thoughts?