Living with Art

Grant received this wonderful drawing for his birthday from his father Sandy. It is a piece of art by Aristides Ruiz, an American artist whose works in pen and ink and pencil are painstakingly produced and so realistic they are often mistaken for photographs. We have been admiring this drawing since he acquired it in 1996 and now it hangs prominently in our dining room. My parents were casual collectors of art and I remember much of the art that hung in our house in Mt. Kisco, NY. There was the dark Colombian piece that hung in two different places during the 27 years my parents owned that house. It was an oil painting with so many dark hues you could barely discern a woman holding a child. I didn't approve when they moved it from our dining room to my father's office. It was part of the fixed landscape of the dining room and transplanting to another location struck me at the time like moving an old tree. Inconsiderate. I wonder what our kids will remember from these pieces of art that surround them. Will they ask for them one day? Will they have attachments that run deep? I imagine that one of my boys is going to want the drawing of the cool young man with the earrings and goatee. But I could be wrong.

Grant Turns 40!

Happy Birthday, Grant! My, how you've grown! There will be so much unspoken, unmeasured, unrecognized at this milestone in your life. All that you are can never be fully expressed or measured, but is deeply and plainly known to all of us who know and love you.

Happy Easter!

Silver and Gold Barber Shop

In the age of ipads and psps an wiis and xbox360s, I am glad that my kids can still experience an old fashioned barber shop. And a $10 "fruit cut". I didn't have the heart or the need to tell him that it is really called a "crew cut".

When parents fight

Grant and I don’t fight. We barely ever raise our voices at each other. We bicker and argue like all couples, but it rarely escalates. So it was strange to find ourselves in a heated exchange this morning, but not altogether remarkable considering the cause: our children. Grant seems to think that we give them too much decision-making power in the house and that I tend to be too conciliatory and lenient. So when Cole came downstairs in shorts after being instructed to wear pants and Quinn was still wearing pants with holes in the knees after being instructed to wear non-holey pants and Carson was still in the same shirt as yesterday, I partially took my children’s side. What’s the big deal, right? For Grant, it was a matter of respect. He is tired of our children talking back to us and defying simple requests. In essence, he is tired of our house being run as a democracy. And he is right. Just this summer I completed one of the best parenting books I had ever read, Blessings of a Skinned Knee: Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self Reliant Children. The author, Wendy Mogel, addresses this very issue in her book, pointing out that many households today are run as democracies, leaving children overly empowered and parents frustrated. She makes a persuasive case that parents should reclaim the helm and give children more decision-making power as they earn it. She also has great sections on the overindulged, overscheduled, overprotected child, with a clear blueprint for how to mentor your children both spiritually and emotionally. I highly recommend the book.

But back to my life and my communication with Grant. While we were both very angry, we eventually got into a great discussion about our parenting, a much needed State of the Union on the Besser 2010 parenting plan. Clearly, today we were wildly off in terms of our communication and parenting. We sent our children the wrong message and Grant came off looking like the bad guy. I realized I had violated one of the most cardinal creeds of parenting: don't contradict your spouse (or at least hold your words until the kids are gone). Consistency is the foundation for all good parenting and my words were like a sledgehammer to that important footing. But at least it wasn't a fight over something critical to our children's lives and futures. We are hopefully working on getting our messaging right so that when the tsunamis of middle and high school hit us, we will have our parenting dikes and levies solid as fortresses.

Spring Break Pictures

In order: Cole coming up for air; Richard Neutra's stunning Kaufmann House; Carson in Tahquitz canyon; Grant in his new favorite hat; Alex showing a preternatural ability at put-put; agaves and cruisers.

Spring Break in California

We visited California for the boys' spring break, spending 6 nights in our old neighborhood in Altadena with friends and three nights in Palm Springs. After what might be recorded as Boulder's snowiest winters in over 100 years (120 inches and counting), this is what we needed: warmth and sun. The bonus was all of the friends we got to see, a visit to our old house, shopping and eating LA style and a reminder that just because you leave a place you can always go back. So how did it feel? It’s complicated. After 13 years, a large part of my young adult history is archived in Los Angeles. My children’s childhoods are firmly rooted in Los Angeles, especially Cole and Carson who spent almost a decade there. There will always be a big spot in my heart for LA. So many rites of passage were experienced there—first house, marriage, children—all the common certificates of adulthood, completed and framed in my personal history during my years in LA. I was able to see with great clarity what I left behind---intoxicating springs that come in early March; friendships that are irreplaceable; familiarity that brings great comfort and depth to your life. I was also able to understand what I had gained: great public schools that allow parents not to spend part of every conversation talking about what school their child is trying to get into and how they are going to pay for it; the architecture of a small town that affords ease and endless opportunities for community building; new friendships that hold tons of promise. In other words, I feel blessed to experience these two places at two different junctures in my life. And blessed to experience the richness of each and to understand their value. Simple translation: closure.