Cryptic IX

H: Mom, don't insult the mayonnaise.

Spelling Homework

Use each of this week's spelling words in a sentence.

The cows on the farm ran away to Wisconsin.

When the cows arrived to Wisconsin, they had a par-tay!

Then the cows went on the track and stole the train.

When they located a car, they went off the train and stole it and went to the country.

One of the cows asked, "Sir, are you using this table?"

All the cows were seated on top of the table.

Then the cows went to math class and did all the division problems for all the kids.

There was a tornado: it effected all the houses. The cows started the tornado.

The cows underlined 700 sentences.

The police saw the cows in the view, and went to the cows. The cows smashed his car completely.

I loved reading the story you created from your spelling words, Jeff!!!! Ms. D.

Plans

Many of my friends are shepherding their first borns, now high school juniors and seniors, through the college application process. These parents fully understand the import of such a decision and the huge financial burden they will incur. To a one, they are being driven to distraction by their sons' indecision and inaction.

I can watch neutrally from the sidelines (Jeff and Hart are only in 7th grade), secure in the knowledge that I will never have to go through this. Frankly, for myself, I can envision a more likely scenario of periodic appearances at parole board hearings, than campus visits.

However, at Jeff's annual IEP* meeting last week, the school district official asked what consideration had been given to mainstreaming experience for Jeff next year. I looked stricken. Hart and Jeff have never had any more mainstream experience than an occasional lunch in the cafeteria when they attended public school, and that was not a success. We, all three of us, are quite comfortable in the caring, nurturing milieu of special education, thank you very much.

She must have sensed my surprise. "Next year when we meet, we will be discussing high school for Jeff, and that will be another major transition." Hardly comforting. The wisdom of her words was irrefutable. Time marches on, swiftly and relentlessly, for both the college-bound and the vocational candidate alike. We may not be making the traditional post-high school plans, but we do have to make PLANS.


* Each public school child who receives special education and related services must have an Individualized Education Program (IEP). The IEP creates an opportunity for teachers, parents, school administrators, related services personnel, and students (when appropriate) to work together to improve educational results for children with disabilities.

Pandas (Hart)

I went to the zoo in Washington D.C. and saw giant pandas and a baby panda. The dad was playing and eating bamboo. They eat bamboo fourteen hours a day. The mom and the baby were sleeping. They will have another baby in the summer.

The zoo is practicing conservation by taking back the older panda to China, once the new baby is born.

Julian and Chloe (photos)

Poster Boys (photos)

Jeff in Cove School's capital capaign brochure and on The Cove School website.

Right: That's Hart last summer at camp.

Highlights of Washington D.C. trip (photos)

Highlights of our trip to Washington:
* catching up with a number of old friends
* visiting Tai Shan, the panda cub (Click here to see him on pandacam.)
* an amazing drive through many significant American history sites en route to Charlottesville, Virginia
* the gem and mineral collection at the Smithsonian Institutiton
* the Wright Brothers' first plane at the Air and Space Museum (Hart's fave) and molas at the National Museum of the American Indian
* gabbing until the wee hours with my brother

Hart at the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History
Tien Tien at the National Zoo
Wish you were here! Russell Taylor in Charlottesville, Virginia
On the Mall with Uncle Arnie

New Lodger (photos)

Inky is staying with us this winter, while her parents "snowbird" in warmer climes.

Best actor in a tragedy

Both boys were getting fidgety in rush hour traffic, as we tried to get a few doctors' appointments in between 5 and 6 p.m. At the crossing of the CTA Yellow Line, Hart had had enough.

"OH, NO! Not the choo-choo!," he lamented.

Ms. J. (photo, art)

Boys' NIght: Andrew, Ms. J., Jeff

Ms. J. has car trouble. Jeff, February 2007

Hart competes in Glenview's February Freeze (photos)

Jeff takes 2nd place in 700 meter race (photo)

Please don't feed the animals

It is absolutely as a last resort that I am instituting a new household policy: no gifts, prizes, incentives can come home with Hart and Jeff.

I don't want to be ungracious . . . so many of you have been so generous with the boys. I am trying alleviate some of the sturm and drang at our house.

Some of the trouble is the boys' unhealthly competition with each other, so there's crying, teasing and retaliation over goodies and toys that come into the house. In some cases, they just aren't able to care for these precious items and it becoms a disappointment.

(I spent hours trying to reglue Hart's ceramic Columbian bus back together. Some of you will remember the sad fate of Jeff's toy limousine.)

I hope I can count on your cooperation. My message to the boys is that any items they earn at school must stay there. Apologies in advance to Yu-Gi-Oh and car lovers everywhere, the newly-traded items have to stay at your house!

Sincerely yours,
I.A.T.M.M.I.T.W. *



*I am the meanest mom in the world.

A Big Brawl!

Jeff was working on his spelling homework, words with either /au/ or /aw/. Suddenly he dissolved in a fit of giggles.

"What's so funny?" I peeked over his shoulder at the list of words: awful, because, braun, draw, launch . . . brawl.

"It’s not what you think. That’s a fight with many people, not underwear."

Homework Hell

When it comes to homework, most parents of special needs kids will confess to a frequent desire to pop their kids upside the head. If nothing else, it might knock some new neural pathways into place.

"The silent E makes the vowel say its name," I say to Hart frequently. Blank stare. "Long A says 'ay," long E says 'ee,' long O says 'oh'." No flicker of recognition.

It was an insight when a friend told me recently of supervising her daughter's math homework. "This is 3rd grade math, you know," she said to her 7th grader.

"Really? It's so hard, I though it was high school math."

Caution: Driver Singing

H: Mom, don't sing. You can't sing that high. This song is for a young girl.

Alas, too true.

Cups Redux

I have lived with Hart and Jeff a long time, and I grew up with my mother, so I am very tolerant of weird behavior. What I cannot tolerate is anyone who tries to convince me that aberrant behavior is not aberrant. To put it bluntly, don't piss on my head, then tell me it's raining.

I have gotten much less patient over the years. I have talked to many adults who deal with special needs kids and they all have horror stories about parents who forget to mention a few important tidbits about their children before sending them to summer camp, Boy Scouts, kindergarten. When the inevitable phone call comes, the parents either sheepishly confess that they thought Joey could try a summer without his medication, or become defensive and angry.

Frankly, I would love to try that. The constant due diligence I do on the boys' behalf is so tiresome. I used to case out any new place in advance taking Hart or Jeff there. I'd love to just put them on the bus like everyone else, wave goodbye, and hope for the best. But I know better. I am all for inclusion and diversity, but I practice full disclosure first.

So I have been ruminating about how to smooth things over with my mom and step-father after the imbroglio at their house. In the interest of full disclosure, I wish she had just said, “We have this freaky thing with our dishwasher. So just bear with me. If you want something to drink while you are here, bring your own glass or put your name on a Dixie cup.” What I resent is that earnest look to imply, “You use your dishwasher to clean dirty dishes after you use them. Now that’s really crazy!”

LegoManiac (photo)

Jeff and his amphibious submarine design

(Not) Roeper and Ebert

Dreamgirls
H: There was too much inappropriate stuff.
L: I guess. I thought it would be like CHICAGO, singing and dancing. We enjoyed that, and that movie had inappropriate things . . . dancing girls and guns.
H: Too much, and too much swearing. I had to do this. (Demonstrates folding his toy elephant's ears down.)
L: Good to know. We'll see CHARLOTTE'S WEB next.
H: OK

YOU LOOK JUST FINE! Mailbag

Dear YLJF,

I think I need a new swimsuit. Any advice on selecting one?

___________________________________ Mermaid

Dear Mer,

Do you really need a new one? Only if a) the fabric of yours is so thin as to reveal what's underneath, b) there is no elastic in the leg openings anymore or c) the seat is fuzzy enough to give you the appearance of a Playboy Bunny tail.

If your current suit qualifies for replacement, here is a simple formula for choosing a bathing suit: the older you are the more skin you must cover. For example, a 25-year-old can wear a bikini, a 35-year-old a two-piece with a sliver of midriff showing, a 45-year-old requires a one-piece. Once you are a dues-paying member of AARP, keep the oversized t-shirt on when not underwater.

Cups

My brother thinks I have finally seen the light: I cannot visit my mother and stay at her house. He is right. I regret that I did not figure this out before voices were raised and unkind words exchanged. My mother is charmingly eccentric, and “frugal“ doesn't even begin to describe her. We love her, but as my brother says, it is unwise and unhealthy to be exposed to her unusual habits for a 24-hour stretch or more.

When we arrived at her house, she had a disposable cup designated for Hart's use during our stay. Strange, but par for the course. There is a logic to this, I suppose, though known only to her. However, the trouble started when we returned from a two-day pilgrimage to LEGOLAND. After three hours in harrowing California traffic, we sat down to dinner.

"Which is your cup?"

"What do you mean "my cup"? I haven't been here for two days."

"Well, which is the cup you used last?"

"I have no idea. Here's a dishwasher full of stuff. Is this clean?"

"Uhm, yes."

"What I mean is, has the dishwasher been run since we left?"

"No, of course not." (Of course not. What was I thinking?)

"I don't remember which cup I used. May I have a clean one from the cupboard?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. There are only three and they are all in the dishwasher."

By now my voice was getting increasingly shrill. "It's your house and your prerogative. But if the household rule is that I am only allowed one cup during my stay here, you must tell me right away. I can't possibly figure out such a bizarre system."

"I don't like your system."

More high-pitched screeching. "My system, my system! The system used by the entire dishwasher-owning world? The system whereby you load dirty dishes into the dishwasher until it is full, run it, then replace the items in the cabinets and drawers for future use. That system?"

I had a sudden flashback to a visit several years ago when we had had a similar discussion. I had asked for a bath towel for the shower and she had given me what in my household is called an oversized handkerchief. I complained that it was too small, to which my mother had exclaimed, "But it's square." There is no argument with logic like that.

Motel 6 with its plethora of sanitized and wrapped glasses looks really appealing. I understand they also have regulation-sized towels there.

Julian and Chloe (photos)

YOU LOOK JUST FINE! Mailbag

Dear YLJF,

I am 5'2" and weigh 105 lbs. Last year my husband received a large windbreaker. He does not like it because it has the name of a local hardware store across the back. May I wear it?

___________________________________ Big Jacket, Little Person

Dear BJLP,

Certainly. How resourceful of you. YLJF generally does not advise adults purchasing items that are several sizes too big, but since it's a freebie, it's fine. You do have to roll up the sleeves so that they don't drag on the sidewalk. Rubber bands are useful for that.

Cowboy Jeff (photo)

Arizona, November 2003
Check out the boots!

More according to Jeff . . .

L: Do you want to see the fish, while the chef makes the sushi?
J: No, fish make me silly.

He was expecting live clownfish?

The Early Years (photos)

Moscow 1996

Yes, Virginia

H: Who is Santa Claus?
L: At Daddy's party? I think it's one of the attorneys wearing a Santa costume.
H: No. . . . there are elves and a sleigh, too.

YOU LOOK JUST FINE! Mailbag

Dear YLJF,

I love the holiday season. I shop and cook and decorate my house. I have ten different Christmas sweaters that I wear daily throughout the month. My granddaughter announced that she hates them! What do you say?

___________________________________ Christmas Spirit

Dear Spirit,

Part of the charm of the season is diverse expression of holiday merriment, which includes the "Christmas Sweater." Also, it takes a bit of "je ne sais quoi" to pull it off, so if you've got it, flaunt it! However, you may not force, coerce or manipulate unwilling co-workers, family members or pets into themed sweaters, Santa hats, reindeer antlers or candy cane-themed jewelry. AND, on December 26, put it all away for another year.

Would you like a fossil with that burger?

Jeff is describing an imaginary restaurant/car dealership that he owns.
J: Look out back. Something skeletonish.
L: What is it?
J: A triceratops! And a nest of eggs.

Cryptic VIII

H: When is the Taliban coming?
L: Huh? Slower, please.
H: When is the Taliban coming? The Tal-i-ban! The ones you bought for our Bar Mitzvah.
L: Ah. The tallit bag has been ordered and will be mailed to us soon.

A Reader's Dilemma

When Hart was in first grade, his school psychologist told me that he would never read for pleasure. At the time, I was quite indignant. There are picture books, easy readers, adaptations, comic books, TV tie-ins. Anyone CAN read for fun. Her pronouncement seemed like that of the Bad Fairy at Sleeping Beauty's cradle.

Now years later, her prediction seems quaintly optimistic. It appears that Hart will never learn to read at all. It certainly isn't for lack of trying. There have been efforts with well-known curricula for learning disabled kids; Wilson Reading, Explode the Code, LiPS. Tutoring, reward systems, computer games. Periodically, his team gets together to re-evaluate his program. More phonics, sight words, less phonics, high-frequency word drills, creative writing, reading for comprehension, reading for fluency, high-interest texts, pre-reading texts and on and on.

It is a mystery. Children with much greater intellectual impairment than Hart learn to read. In fact, using all the efforts and strategies that educators have used with Hart, pods of dolphins could have been taught to read by now. What is very clear is this: nothing has been written to the hard drive in Hart's brain. There is faulty wiring somewhere.

Conventional wisdom has it that learning to read English is devilishly hard. But it cannot be that difficult because almost everyone from age seven on, with a bit of phonics training, some exposure to the basic conventions, and enough practice and familiarity with frequently-used words, can do it.

What Hart has learned in the past eight or nine years are cunning strategies. He has perfected the whisper, mumble and inhalation on the first syllable. He can "read" really fast in hopes that the mistakes are less noticeable. Even one of the first preschool strategies, looking at the illustrations, does not help. "Tom flies a kitten!" I recently shrieked. "Is that a kitten up there at the end of the string?" I know that trick--the oldest in the book--looking at the first letter and guessing wildly. That's why in Hartworld, “it,” “is,” “if,” and “in” are interchangeable. So are “and,” “a,” “at,” “as” and “are.” “Three,“ “there,” “tree,” take your pick.

There is also something amiss with his short-term memory.“The star of this story is Lucy. Look at this word for a minute. We are going to read about a girl named Lucy.” It didn’t help. Hart called her Lucky or worse, Louky, whenever he saw the word.

Homework is agonizing. Hart cannot be bothered to read the short paragraph before answering the comprehension questions. He guesses, he complains about how hard the work is, or he tries to discern a pattern in the answers. Having answered the first of three multiple choice questions A, the second is sure to be B, the third C.

I have significantly scaled back my expectations, of course. I would have loved Hart to be an avid reader, as I am. I have introduced him to graphic novels, the kind with no text at all. We have discovered the joys of listening to books on CD. (Jim Dale reads the HARRY POTTER series, Tim Curry narrates A SERIES OF UNFORTUNATE EVENTS. Magnificent.) Hart enjoys hearing poetry and I like reading it to him. Still, there is something to be said for the ability to read a menu, a street sign, a headline. That’s why we are still working on it, year after year.

Thanks

According to Jeff . . .

North Carolina's Ocracoke Island was the hideout of Blackboard the pirate.

In addition to piracy, maybe he moon-lighted as a teacher?

Hot Rod (art)

Jeff, November 2006

SILVERWING

I went to see author Kenneth Oppel who spoke to an auditorium full of 4th and 5th graders today. Those who look at this blog know that Oppel's bat trilogy, SILVERWING, SUNWING and BRIGHTWING are Jeff's favorite books. So even though the boys were in school I dutifully went, introduced myself, told him about the boys and got our books signed and dedicated to Hart and Jeff. (They were thrilled.)

Post-Bar Mitzvah

After a Bar Mitzvah come the onerous and inevitable tasks, eating leftovers and writing thank-you notes. In 1971, I did the latter in the traditional way, in my own dear hand, using my best penmanship, without spelling or punctuation errors, and submitted them for parental approval.

Modern times call for modern measures. I have given Hart and Jeff a shortcut. Using their choice of computer-imprintable stationery, they dictate and I type. This way we can promptly thank the gift-givers without tears or bloodshed.

There are a few guidelines. Each gift must be acknowledged with appropriate gratitude and a mention of plans for the gift. Those who came to the event are thanked for their attendance. Those who could not attend are told they were missed. Beyond that, I do not edit or censor.

It may be unorthodox to inquire about the weather or request a play date in a thank-you note, but surely a "friendly letter" is meant to be friendly. I can only hope that Jeff’s great-aunt was tickled to read, "I really like your furry coat, because I love soft things." That's better than a scripted sentiment any day.

Bar Mitzvah Highlights (photos)

Hart, Jeff, Julian and Chloe.

Top Eight

Once every year or two, I come across a remarkable book. Not neccesarily a best seller, not neccesarily a "great book," but a work of fiction so original, so new, so provocative that I savor every word and am disappointed when it ends.

I have read lots and lots of books in my adult life, but only eight titles leapt to mind as notable and memorable enough to make my list. I could be left on a desert island with these titles and still be able to take two Harry Potter books to form my Top Ten list!

RAGTIME, Doctorow. Real historical people interact with Doctorow's characters to create the 'new music' of early 20th century America.

CAT'S CRADLE, Vonnegut. The first of the Vonnegut canon that I loved. As always, Vonnegut is completely original and defies description.

A GOOD SCENT FROM A STRANGE MOUNTAIN, Owen Butler. A tapestry of Vietnamese refugee life in New Orleans, told as a series of evocative short stories.

THE LIFE OF PI, Martel. Which is more interesting, the truth or a good story?

BEE SEASON, Goldberg. How Ellie won her 4th grade spelling bee, alienated her brother, influenced her father and caused her dysfunctional family to fall completely apart.

OUR HOLOCAUST, Gutfreund. The real members of Gutfreund family survived the Holocaust only in the author's imagination in this amazing and heart-breaking novel.

THE LAST SONG AT DUSK, Shanghvi. THE NAMESAKE, Lahiri, INTERPRETER OF MALADIES, Roy. It's my blog and I'm talking all three of these books by India-born authors, now living in England or the U.S. It's been a good few years for new Asian voices. See next.

LONDONSTANI, Malkani. Imperfect, but an impressive first novel. Bend It like Beckham meets A Clockwork Orange. Really.

New Rule

I have been abiding by the "no white socks" rule for some time. Many pairs of blue jeans passed through the closets, brand-new and unworn, until I just gave up buying them. The boys will not wear jeans. Period.

Now Jeff has made his new preference clear: white underwear only. It was only a matter of time, I suppose. I have had my fun. I have purchased underwear in all manner of boy-friendly, clever patterns--cars, trains, dinosaurs, airplanes, soccer balls, baseball caps, basketballs, sneakers, snowmen, snowboards, ski equipment (winter), lobsters, palm trees (summer) and bats, ghosts (Halloween). In recent years (and larger sizes), there have been stripes and manlier solid colors; maroon, gray and navy blue. However, Jeff is a teenager now and, apparently, anything but the traditional "tighty whities" are too childish, so I have no choice but to comply.

Right now I have a three-year-old nephew and he thinks the surf board-patterned big boy underpants are just the thing. Note to self and sister-in-law: this too shall pass.

Bar Mitzvah Highlights

The whole weekend went by in a blur. A few highlights:

Best Video Moment: Three-month-old Chloe spitting up on my cousin Sharon at Friday's dinner. Hart announces to the camera, "Chloe puked on THAT girl."

Second Best Video Moment: On Sunday Julian says, "I'm tired. We're all tired."

Skating coach quip: "I am really out of my element here." "Because you are not Jewish?" "No, because this isn't a skating rink."

Awwwwwww: Julian immediately rushes the pulpit after the service, grabs both cousins by the hand, and drags them off to the food.

Most popular guest despite puking: Chloe.

Most panicky moment: Custodian meets me upon my arrival Saturday morning to tell me the caterers cannot find the paper goods I dropped off on Thursday.

Second most panicky moment: Hart, who remains immobile through the whole service.

Words to live by: Cantor's remarks about being surprised by human capabilities, in light of human limitations.

Worst bowling moment: Mom, a former recreational bowler, scores less than 80.

Best bowling party review: Sam B. declares the party to be "AWESSSSSOME!"

Leftovers from Saturday: Noodle kugel, cheese, challah, blintzes, baba ganoush, pastries and lots of cream cheese. Sadly, no lox.

Leftovers from Sunday pizza party: Seven empty cardboard pizza boxes, three brownies, one serving of salad.

Ezrah (helping)

It is an honor and privilege to read the haftarah on the occasion of your bar mitzvahs. This was the exact same haftarah portion that I read at my own bar mitzvah 34 years ago. Because our birthdays are so close, we have the same reading. As my parents and my sister will confirm, I did a much better job back then than I did today.

Back then, I had tutors, and teachers and Rabbis to help me get ready and prepare. This time, I tried to do it all by myself. As we know, we always do much better when we have helpers.

Looking out in the sanctuary this morning, I am so glad to see that we have with us so many of your helpers with us today: your social workers, teachers, and many of your babysitters for the past ten years. The babysitters are the ones with the grey hairs, even the teenagers. And to each of them, your mom and I are very grateful for their support.

And, in fact, every one of our guests, every one of you, has, in his or her own unique way, been a source of tremendous support and strength to Lydia, me, Hart and Jeff. As we were putting together our guest list, we basically were creating our list of the 100 people who have most helped us over the years. If Crain's were to publish a top-100 list of helpers to us, you would be that list. Hart and Jeff, and Lydia and I could not made it through the past ten years without you. I hope you know how very much we appreciate you all.

Hart and Jeff, I know that you have learned that when we help others, we ourselves become better people. The importance of helping others is something that both of you already understand. I hope you will always do your best to be good helpers. To try to make the world a better place. I know that you both will always will take care of each other. And that you always will be the very best of friends.
And finally but very importantly, that you will always take care of your most important helper in the world, and that's your mom, who spends every single day taking care of you.

When I was a 13-year-old boy, just like you, wearing my first suit, in a synagogue not too far from here, I could not have imagined, in my very best dreams, that someday I would be reciting the haftarah for two boys who are as wonderful as you are. Your mom and I are very proud of you.

I hope someday each of you will have the same good fortune to recite the Torah blessings on the occasions of your own children's bar and bat mitzvahs.

_______ Hart's and Jeff's father's comments, November 4, 2006

Halloween 2006 (photos)

Hart, two grasshoppers

Jeff, The Cat in the Hat

Bar Mitzvah Cheer II

For years, I planned parties, art openings and fund raising events professionally, so organizing a modest Bar Mitzvah did not seem daunting. The plans have gone smoothly overall. However, unlike a professional event, where there is another one coming along shortly, this is a one-off deal. Two kids, one Bar Mitzvah celebration. It’s do or die.

I remember my wedding planning days. I worked full-time and had to manage such minutiae as choosing typeface and color for the cocktail napkins. Who cares or remembers the napkins now? Everyone expects a wedding to be fraught with clashing egos, raw nerves and minor catastophes. Part of the fun is the dueling bridesmaids, the drunken guest, the uncooked main course. (A fight broke out in the kitchen during my wedding ceremony. No word if the supervising rabbi [masgiach] was involved.)

By the time one is old enough to have Bar Mitzvah-aged children, that craziness should have been outgrown, too. Still I am having deja vu, being asked to choose the linen colors. Now I worry--what if it is lame, really lame? Of course, the boys will be unpredictable, but what if the food is lousy?

Antidote

L: Cough, cough, cough . . . . .
J: I know a potion to make you unsick.

Spelled like it sounds . . .

I suggested that Jeff look over his week's spelling words while I prepared dinner. Moments later, "What's this 3 doing here?" I looked over his shoulder. "I think the 3 is silent."

Cause-Effect

Complete the sentence to make a cause-effect paragraph.

Last week I spilled a bottle of blue ink in my grandmother's living room. Grandma says, "You are grounded!." I had a fit!

_______________ Hart

Encounter with Nature

There is no doubt about it. I am running a personal wildlife refuge. But, what the heck! How agile can a raccoon be?

I stood puzzling over this for a few minutes, until it finally dawned on me. I had left the garage door up, in position horizonal to the ceiling. Still, how the hell did a raccoon get up there? And why didn't he wipe his feet on the "Welcome, Raccoons" mat I so thoughtfully put out?

From the desk of . . .

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to write up an interview with Ginny and Ron Weasley. I shared it with a few fellow Harry Potter fans who enjoyed it. Having gone to the trouble of writing it, I also posted it to a few major Harry Potter web sites.

For the most part, the Muggle webmasters loved it and most readers were very positive. Almost everyone readily recognized it as an unusual hybrid of journalism and fan fiction. There were, however, a few bewildered readers who didn't get it. Most memorably, one poster wrote, "I would much rather have read an interview with Bonnie Wright and Rupert Grint. Why didn't you do that?"

The truth is I don't know Ms. Wright or Mr. Grint, or their agents, publicists and managers. I do not even know the author J.K. Rowling. That's the whole point: I do know the real Ginny and Ron. I know Harry Potter, too.

I know Count Olaf, Oliver Twist, the March sisters, Tom, Huck and Becky, Willy Wonka, Wendy, Michael and John. I have been party to the innermost thoughts of Adrian Mole and Bridget Jones. My acquaintance with the famous is not limited to humans. I know plenty of witches, fairies, Hobbits, wizards, gods and goddesses and talking animals. I know an ant that types, a spider that spells and a pig that herds sheep!

Some of these are old friends I have had for decades and other are new. I've been gradually introducing my boys to some of these old acquaintances, and along the way I have met many new ones.

I may look like a middle-aged suburban scribbler, but oh, the adventures I have had, the evil and heroism I have witnessed, and the interesting and enchanted lands I have visited . . .

There are plenty other people whose job it is to write about movie actors.

Sorrel Lucent

Making comparisons

Complete the sentence to make a comparison paragraph.

As pets, dog are very different from cats. Dogs do not have claws. Dogs take walks and cats like to lounge around.

_______________ Hart

Miracle Worker

When Anne Sullivan arrived at the Keller household, she noticed that the family did not hold little Helen to any standard of civilized behavior. Helen ran around the dinner table, yanking food off the adults' plates, among other things. The Kellers tolerated this for two reasons: they felt that Helen was entitled to accommodation because of her "afflictions,” and they had no way of teaching her otherwise.

I am guilty of this mentality, too. Most of the obnoxious conduct in our household is due to "afflictions," too. I am not indulgent, but most of these behaviors are utterly intractable. If I had to mete out discipline for every infraction, I would do nothing else all day and I would issue consequences for the same undesirable behaviors day after day, year after year. (Wait. I do that now.)

Anne Sullivan must have known intuitively that despite her disabilities Helen Keller still existed in sighted and hearing world. It is a harsh truth that I have come to understand, too, as the boys have gotten older. While we have struggled with simple social rules that most 4-year-olds easily have mastered--do not touch other people; wait until others are finished talking before speaking; no screaming indoors; answer when your name is spoken; time has marched on.

Now that the boys are teenagers, I realize that not only will I not be around to remind them to make eye contact when speaking to someone, I will not be available forever to cook, do laundry and organize their lives into manageable bits.

Time for a paradigm shift. Even kids like mine, with their limitations, have to exist in this world. Talk of increased privileges and responsibility discourages me. I can't very well say, "Here's $5. Ride your bike over to Jewel, pick up a loaf of bread and box of Rice Krispies."

It recently dawned on me that there are a number of tasks that the boys COULD DO quite competently given an opportunity. I could send someone to the yogurt case to select a few and bring them back to the cart. I could show the boys which half gallon of orange juice is the best buy this week. Jeff announced to me that junior high kids are expected to make their own lunches. Done. Hart wants to select his own clothes to wear each day. Done. Take the garbage to the curb. Done. Learn basic kitchen skills? Do laundry? Select and wrap a gift? Initiate a playdate?

If I waited until the boys learned to use appropriate volume when speaking before demonstrating very basic life skills, I'll be shopping and cooking for them for a long, long time. I learned recently that teaching hair-washing is not that difficult if demonstrated and broken down into basic steps. Wet, shampoo, lather, rinse.

Career

J: When I grow up, I want to be a madman.
L: You are one now!

Name Game

My last name is unusual, vaguely ethnic-sounding and has an "x." Although it is a one-syllable name, I am often asked to pronounce it and spell it. "X?" "Yes, with an X at the end. That's it, that's the whole name." These reasons that made me loathe my name when I was growing up. It is a cactus of a name in a flower bed of Smiths and Millers.

Like red hair or a crooked nose, in adulthood, these singular features seem less burdensome. I guess I have gotten used to it. There are a few dozen people with this name in the entire world and we are all somehow related. If someone asks me about another person with that name, invariably, they mean someone in my immediate family.

With one notable exception. Last year, an older man noticed my name on my checkbook and said, "I once knew a guy with that name." Probably my dad, I told him. He attended the University of Chicago. "No, no, in Vienna, before the War." He went on to explain that he dated a woman with that last name and in fact, he met up with her again when they were both inmates in Auschwitz. My interest was piqued, but I had no idea who the woman might be.

When I asked my youngest brother, the keeper of all information genealogical, he told me he knew of this woman, now in her 80s and living in Israel. He was, in fact, corresponding with her grandson, our 4th cousin, twice-removed.

YOU LOOK JUST FINE! Mailbag

Dear YLJF,

Twenty-four years ago, I wore a "loud" shirt to a family wedding and since then no one has ever let me forget it. At every occasion, someone will say something about it, like, "You look fine today, not like at Sue's wedding, when you wore THAT shirt." Enough, already!

___________________________________ Loud

Dear Loud,

Etiquette dictates that the wedding guests (or their clothes) are not supposed to upstage the bride and groom.

However, you have achieved something every celebrity aspires to . . . an outfit so memorable that folks are still talking about it nearly a quarter century later! What Oscar winner can claim that? If you really want to put the kibosh on the remarks, wear the shirt again. When anyone comments, say, "Everyone has talked so much about this shirt, I thought they might want to see it again."

Plane crash (art)

Poetry Homework

Roof

At night sometimes after Miss Edna goes to bed I go
up on the roof
Sometimes I sit counting the stars
Maybe one is my mama and
another one is my daddy And maybe that's why
soometimes they flicker a bit
I mean the stars flicker

_____________________ Jacqueline Woodson, Locomotion

Where do you go when you want to have some quiet time to think about things?

I go to my bedroom
or I go somewhere tiny and small
like the closet.
I put the light on
and read.
It is the only place
Hart cannot come in.

_____________________ Jeff

New Year

There are traditional Jewish blessings for the most mundane of things: washing hands, eating, putting on new clothes. There are also blessings for unusual events, such as seeing a rainbow, an ocean or a very tall person (No kidding!)

Here's a bit of Jewish trivia. There is a blessing for seeing a great multitude of Jews together. No wonder I did not learn that one: I grew up in a small Ohio city, with a modest Jewish population. Even if they were all in the same place at the same time, it could hardly be called a multitude. Since I have moved to Chicago, I think of that blessing at this time every year.

A long time ago, in Ohio, most people had never seen a bagel, much less gefilte fish or halvah. Here in Chicago, I was surprised to find that grocery stores advertise traditional food for the season. Around here, public schools are closed. It's not unusual to see a backyard Sukkah or kosher food at the store.

Our synagogue holds its holiday services in a huge historic suburban church. Since the congregants must walk or park on the street, there truly is a multitude of Jews all heading towards this enormous church at the same time. Extraordinary. Last night, I sat in the balcony looking down at the crowd of heads below. I don't know most of them personally. Although I often feel isolated and alone in my tiny family of three, it is heartening to remember that I am part of this multitude, not only in my own local community, but in the whole world.

Bar Mitzvah Cheer

Planning a Bar Mitzvah gala can be stressful under any circumstances, but I am determined to remain serene. There are a number of personalities involved in this, any of which could cause me a nervous breakdown or at least an Excedrin headache. These include:

My mother, who is coming almost directly from China, jet-lagged and presumably in the same clothes she wore to climb the Great Wall.

My former in-laws, whose idea of punctuality differs from mine by about 40-90 minutes.

My former husband, who has been known to have second thoughts about venue, menu, dress minutes before an event begins.

My boys. Let's just say that their behavior is consistently unpredictable or predictably inconsistent.

None of this is going to get me down. Unlike my wedding, for which I felt responsible for all eventualities large and small (except divorce), this event is in God's hands now, so to speak. Not that I am not trying to smooth the way. I am. I have given the boys this speech a few times now. "You are Bar Mitzvah age now. That means you take responsibility for you own actions. If you misbehave or act silly in front of your invited guests, that is your own choice."

I also set some ground rules. The boys are not to be on the pulpit together. Each is to be accompanied individually by an adult at all times. They are not to sit together in the congregation. I have scoped out the location of exits in case I need to employ a “time-out.”

If all else fails, I can quietly contemplate the stained glass windows during the service. At the party, I plan to have a great time.

Chloe (photo)

Front page news (newspaper photo)

YOU LOOK JUST FINE! Mailbag

Dear YLJF,
I am a senior citizen with a closet full of "dressy dresses" which I have worn over the past four decades to weddings, Bar Mitzvahs, cotillions, dinner-dances and other occasions. My grandson is getting married and my son and daughter-in-law are urging me to buy a new dress for this event! Do I have to?
___________________________________ Closets are Full

Dear CAF,
It's true that you are unlikely to live another 40 years, as to get adequate wear out of this new purchase, so I see your point. Since your dress collection spans the decades, why not stroll around the mall to see what stores have at the moment and pull out a similar-looking dress from your collection? Most of the wedding guests probably were not born when you wore it the first time.