*cross-posted at parenthoodphd.com*
Last week, I took my son to the doctor for his 15-month check-up. I tried to keep my son entertained while the nurse went through the standard battery of questions, entering my answers on her laptop:
Is he in a rear-facing car seat? Yes.
Are there smoke detectors in the home? Yes.
Does anyone in the house smoke cigarettes? No.
Is he exposed to wood smoke? No.
Is he still breastfeeding? Yes.
Does he drink cow’s milk, too? Yes.
But then she followed up with one that required more brainpower.
Does he drink whole milk or two percent?
If I had been on my A-game, I probably would’ve gone with the “right” answer (whole milk). But I was trying to keep my son from catapulting himself off the exam table, so I went with distracted honesty: “Uh, a mix of both.”
Continue reading ““whole milk or two-percent?” mommy shaming in the doctor’s office”
Because we could all benefit from a burst of enthusiasm and encouragement in the dark depths of February:
When I woke Kid up this morning, his first words to me were “Did Obama get 270?” Then, questions about the popular vote, Ohio, and Florida. I hadn’t really gotten the sense that he was such a political nerd, but now I see the signs were there all along.
Four years ago, I tried to explain to my 4-year-old why I was so excited about Barack Obama becoming president. I did that thing parents do, trying to pack a U.S. History textbook and an Intro to Sociology course in a few sentences targeted to a pre-schooler, and Kid came away from the conversation thinking that Republicans don’t like to share and that they are mean to people with dark skin for no good reason. It was the best I could do. Then we made a cake to celebrate Inauguration Day:
I didn’t know that Kid was paying much attention to the election this year. Continue reading “kid’s view of the election”
Gosh, it’s been quite a summer – five separate trips not including ASA, and major family transitions. We moved to a new house, my kids both started new schools, and I did a lot of policy-related work early in the summer alongside. With all that, I miss scatterplot and my scatterbrained colleagues! I’ve been trying to read when I can, but haven’t written in a long time.
Look for that to change soon. I’m planning a long post about the feedback on our study on the Tea Party Movement; another on plagiarism and UNC’s honor court; and some retrospective stuff on disappointment and anger at President Obama, among many others. See you soon!
I’m a tremendously disorganized electronic file-keeper. While this has proven disastrous at times, it makes it fun when I stumble across gems as I’m searching for particular items. Today, while on the hunt for teaching tips I might have written, I rediscovered an unrelated presentation I made at last year’s ASA meetings. I thought it might be helpful to some scatterplot readers (even those without children).
I had been enlisted to talk about navigating graduate school as a single parent… Continue reading “navigating graduate school as a (single) parent.”
My Tar Heels are miserable this year. Barely above .500, they are all but certain not to make the NCAA tourney (unless they win the ACC tourney, which would require acts of several deities acting in concert), and frankly will only be invited to the NIT because the UNC franchise is so valuable that Carolina probably brings in more TV dollars losing than, say, George Mason does winning. It’s been a difficult year in the southern part of heaven.
So why did I watch the whole debacle on Saturday when the Dark Side avenged four years of losses to the Good Side on their home court with a whipping of historic proportions? What’s a fan to do? My wife wanted to fast-forward on the TiVo. My older son, who really does consider the Duke-Carolina rivalry an epic battle between good and evil, felt more like I did: waves of horror punctuated with the kind of rapt attention that a grisly road accident commands.
I am a relatively recent convert to sports at all, having paid no attention whatsoever before moving to Chapel Hill 10 years ago. Soon after we moved here, the day after the Heels were knocked out of that year’s NCAA tournament, a disheveled homeless man sat down across from me on a Chapel Hill city bus, stretched out, and declared, “I’m ashamed to be associated with this town.” I understand why we cling to political and moral ideals even when they’re losing, which I’ve done plenty of times beginning with the Mondale-Ferraro defeat in 1984. I am, and remain, Tar Heel faithful. I’m just not clear on the social psychology of why I was and am proud to root for the Heels during and after this awful season.
Sunday morning cartoons this past weekend included a 1969 version of “The Origin of Spiderman” en français (probably from this series, but I’m not sure). Husband and I tried to fill in the blanks created by the language barrier, but the one thing Kid took from the show is that Spiderman sewed his own costume. Since Kid has his own Spiderman costume, and since the mask of it has been missing for a while, Kid immediately asked that we sew a mask. I thought I would faint with delight. To the fabric store!
Continue reading “crafty kid”