If out of the blue you have a weird dream about a casual friend of yours... you know, the nice lady with the cute kids and sweet husband... to the effect that she's suddenly divorced and at a play with her new boyfriend... don't send her a Facebook message saying, "Hahahaha, I had this crazy dream last night, you'll never believe it..."
Don't do it. Take it from me. Just. keep. quiet.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
If I had bet on this, I would have lost
"We're not in a big rush. We'll pause," Pelosi said. "We have to know what our possibilities are."
http://www.foxnews.com/politics/2010/01/21/pelosi-votes-pass-senate-health-house/
Monday, January 18, 2010
Juggling two shows as of this week
Ella is now Jellyfish #1 in a show The Little Mermaid, for ages 4-9.
Rehearsals start Thursday and are every Thursday evening through the end of March.
I'm having her do this partly because she wants to, and partly to see for myself what this program is like.
Hope she gets a decent costume. She's all about the costumes, that girl.
Rehearsals start Thursday and are every Thursday evening through the end of March.
I'm having her do this partly because she wants to, and partly to see for myself what this program is like.
Hope she gets a decent costume. She's all about the costumes, that girl.
Pre-puberty
I think we can count pre-puberty as officially hitting our household last week. If this is PRE-puberty, well, let's just say that while I think I know how I'm going to handle puberty with the girls, this will be a good study-and-plan period with plenty of material.
She's 10.36 years old, just for the record.
Hold on to your hats, it's going to be a wild 6-or-7-year ride!
She's 10.36 years old, just for the record.
Hold on to your hats, it's going to be a wild 6-or-7-year ride!
Friday, January 15, 2010
Weird finger thing
Okay, so this really weird thing has started happening with two of the fingers on my left hand: At odd moments whose similarity I can't determine, the top half of the either my index finger or my middle finger will go all yellowish and whitish and become numb. When this happens, I of course focus on the finger and try to get more blood to circulate into it. I can't tell whether that works, or if I had just waited the five minutes that it takes to force more blood into my finger that would work just as well. It doesn't just happen out in the cold, although the first time it happened, it was when I was hanging Christmas ornaments outside in Nature's Refrigerator (a.k.a. Rochester). It also doesn't happen just when I'm typing, although it DOES happen when I'm typing sometimes.
It's quite annoying.
So if someone knows that this is a sign of...well...something, please let me know. I've never heard of it happening.
I'm going to start exercising more. At least, if I have some kind of circulation problem, that can only help, right?
It's quite annoying.
So if someone knows that this is a sign of...well...something, please let me know. I've never heard of it happening.
I'm going to start exercising more. At least, if I have some kind of circulation problem, that can only help, right?
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The bug has bitten Ella
Ella went over to watch Madison's rehearsal for Schoolhouse Rock on Saturday. She loved watching the rehearsal, she knows every song, and is fascinated by the whole process.
She came along with us tonight. Two-and-a-half hours. She has charmed the music director, who had her sitting next to the piano turning pages and singing. She wishes she had auditioned (even though it's for ages 10-16, technically she could have because there is another 8-year-old in the play), but she has the whole thing in perspective. She just likes breathing the atmosphere, I think. She has informed me that she'd like to go to every single rehearsal, just to watch, and be a part of it in that way.
Guess we know what I'll be doing for the next 9 or 10 years. "Theater mom" suits me just fine, especially if we stick with theater companies that have people running them who are as nice and capable as these folks.
She came along with us tonight. Two-and-a-half hours. She has charmed the music director, who had her sitting next to the piano turning pages and singing. She wishes she had auditioned (even though it's for ages 10-16, technically she could have because there is another 8-year-old in the play), but she has the whole thing in perspective. She just likes breathing the atmosphere, I think. She has informed me that she'd like to go to every single rehearsal, just to watch, and be a part of it in that way.
Guess we know what I'll be doing for the next 9 or 10 years. "Theater mom" suits me just fine, especially if we stick with theater companies that have people running them who are as nice and capable as these folks.
Monday, January 11, 2010
10-year-old's bio
I had to write a little "bio" for the program for Madison's upcoming performance of Schoolhouse Rock Live at Stages.
It was due yesterday, so of course I wrote it at 11:00 last night. You know those little program blurbs, right? They always start off like this: "Jane Jones is thrilled to be back at Stages once again after having taken a brief sabbatical to appear on Broadway as Annie..." I decided that no bio of a child of MINE is starting "Madison Ross is thrilled" or "Madison Ross is delighted." But it's not as though she has lots of acting credits worth mentioning. So what to say?
Here's what I came up with:
Two potential issues made me hesitate before hitting the Send button:
1) I have technically never heard Madison Ross tell anyone that she wants to be a science fiction writer.
2) Madison Ross is currently in an argumentative phase. Granted, this is about a 10-year-and-counting phase, but it's gotten to where if you say there is about a foot of snow on the ground she'll be outside with a ruler trying to prove you wrong before you can say "six curse word degrees."
I hit the Send button. I figured that the volunteer doing the program wasn't going to send it to press at 9am today, and that it was fixable if suddenly the child told me that she was planning on a career as a televangelist or something.
I read it to her this morning. She listened without interrupting to object (!), blinked twice, said reflectively, "Science fiction writer. Huh. That sounds about right," and went back to what she was doing.
Okay then.
It was due yesterday, so of course I wrote it at 11:00 last night. You know those little program blurbs, right? They always start off like this: "Jane Jones is thrilled to be back at Stages once again after having taken a brief sabbatical to appear on Broadway as Annie..." I decided that no bio of a child of MINE is starting "Madison Ross is thrilled" or "Madison Ross is delighted." But it's not as though she has lots of acting credits worth mentioning. So what to say?
Here's what I came up with:
Madison Ross (Ensemble) is a home-schooled fifth grader from Brighton. Schoolhouse Rock is Madison's first Stages show, and she describes the experience with lots of adjectives: Exciting, energizing, electric, thrilling, challenging, and fun. She studies musical theater with John Barthelmes at Spotlight Theatre Arts in Fairport, and plays piano, flute, and viola. Madison loves writing, reading, and computer programming, and hopes someday to be a science fiction writer.
Two potential issues made me hesitate before hitting the Send button:
1) I have technically never heard Madison Ross tell anyone that she wants to be a science fiction writer.
2) Madison Ross is currently in an argumentative phase. Granted, this is about a 10-year-and-counting phase, but it's gotten to where if you say there is about a foot of snow on the ground she'll be outside with a ruler trying to prove you wrong before you can say "six curse word degrees."
I hit the Send button. I figured that the volunteer doing the program wasn't going to send it to press at 9am today, and that it was fixable if suddenly the child told me that she was planning on a career as a televangelist or something.
I read it to her this morning. She listened without interrupting to object (!), blinked twice, said reflectively, "Science fiction writer. Huh. That sounds about right," and went back to what she was doing.
Okay then.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Speech at 20-year anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall
If you take a worthwhile 42 minutes to watch Alan Charles Kors' speech to the Atlas Network at the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall last year, you can imagine what it was like to be a student in his class 20 years ago, or, I imagine, now. In the classroom, though, he only spoke of the history of others' ideas and their importance to political and social development, not of his own ideology. It was over sandwiches at the deli on 38th Street that students could appreciate Kors the Man.
Alan Charles Kors - Freedom Dinner 2009 Keynote from Atlas Network on Vimeo.
Friday, January 08, 2010
Give it a rest
The whole family wants Madison to give "God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman" a rest. Even Eastern Orthodox Christmas is past, for pity's sake. We hear it on the flute, piano, viola. She sings it in the car. Thank goodness she doesn't play any other instruments.
Of course, it's playing on a continuous loop in all of our minds as a result.
Of course, it's playing on a continuous loop in all of our minds as a result.
Thursday, January 07, 2010
Ode to Winter
I never write poems.
Well, almost never.
Tonight, though, I was inspired to write this
Ode to Winter in Rochester
Being a publisher has its advantages. Namely, you can write any old thing and get it published.
I really do like this one, though.
Well, almost never.
Tonight, though, I was inspired to write this
Ode to Winter in Rochester
Being a publisher has its advantages. Namely, you can write any old thing and get it published.
I really do like this one, though.
Tuesday, January 05, 2010
A photo and a dedication
In youth, I had crappy parents.
In college, I had great parents, although I'm pretty sure they didn't know it at the time. And they weren't technically mine.
I was a rather depressed and brainy teen who was not taught anything about how to make my way in the world. This was not surprising, because I had parents who didn't know what they were doing. I think the brains saved me, though: When I got to college, I decided that what was required was a total makeover. What had those people done wrong, and what could I do better?
My sophomore year at Penn, I took an intellectual history course with Alan Kors, and after that started working on other projects with him. It was the early days of resistance to the invasion of the universities by politically correct thought reformers, and Alan was on the good side of that. His work ultimately resulted in the forming of FIRE (Freedom and Individual Rights in Education).
As much value as Alan was to me intellectually, it was nothing compared to what talking with him and watching him with his family did for me personally. Here was a guy who GOT IT; the first person I'd met whose ethics of respect for individual liberty were consistent through and through: politically, in professional dealings, and with his family and students. His kids (preteens at the time) were happy, healthy, intelligent young people. I watched how he talked with them. I learned all about his reasonable setting of rules and boundaries that let them flourish. I saw how an atheist taught his kids to be good people, the best. He was the first person to show me Chris Brockman's book What About Gods. I learned. I didn't forget. Once when I was there, Alan had his daughter Samantha tell me their family motto ("Don't take shit"), which profoundly changed the way I looked at the world. Three small words told me how to become a much happier person. I wanted my future kids to turn out just like the Kors kids.
We Rosses visited the Kors family at their home in PA last week; it was the first time Alan had met David, Madison, and Ella (although when the kids were babies we'd had lunch with Erika in Philly). Best of all, their daughter Samantha, now grown and with two baby girls of her own, was there with her family.
Madison and Ella LOVED Alan and Erika. The girls talked, they listened, they joked, and Alan clowned around with them. And, most significantly, Samantha noticed. My girls are the same distance apart in age as her babies, and she told both me and Erika that she wanted HER girls to turn out just like MY girls. "How do I do that?" she asked me. How gratifying that was. It was simple justice to be able to tell her about how I'm largely following in the pattern of her own parents.
The whole experience did make me realize, for a few minutes, what the girls are missing by not having grandparents. But I didn't dwell on what can't be helped. The girls are a lot better off for not having to deal with MY parents as grandparents, and as for David's parents, who would have been terrific, they unfortunately passed away long ago.
David took this photo of me, Alan, Erika, Ella, and Madison:
I hope I look like Erika when I'M in my late 50s.
I do love that man profoundly. It would have been too sappy and undignified really to show him the depths of my gratitude, but I'm pretty sure he got the general picture.
In college, I had great parents, although I'm pretty sure they didn't know it at the time. And they weren't technically mine.
I was a rather depressed and brainy teen who was not taught anything about how to make my way in the world. This was not surprising, because I had parents who didn't know what they were doing. I think the brains saved me, though: When I got to college, I decided that what was required was a total makeover. What had those people done wrong, and what could I do better?
My sophomore year at Penn, I took an intellectual history course with Alan Kors, and after that started working on other projects with him. It was the early days of resistance to the invasion of the universities by politically correct thought reformers, and Alan was on the good side of that. His work ultimately resulted in the forming of FIRE (Freedom and Individual Rights in Education).
As much value as Alan was to me intellectually, it was nothing compared to what talking with him and watching him with his family did for me personally. Here was a guy who GOT IT; the first person I'd met whose ethics of respect for individual liberty were consistent through and through: politically, in professional dealings, and with his family and students. His kids (preteens at the time) were happy, healthy, intelligent young people. I watched how he talked with them. I learned all about his reasonable setting of rules and boundaries that let them flourish. I saw how an atheist taught his kids to be good people, the best. He was the first person to show me Chris Brockman's book What About Gods. I learned. I didn't forget. Once when I was there, Alan had his daughter Samantha tell me their family motto ("Don't take shit"), which profoundly changed the way I looked at the world. Three small words told me how to become a much happier person. I wanted my future kids to turn out just like the Kors kids.
We Rosses visited the Kors family at their home in PA last week; it was the first time Alan had met David, Madison, and Ella (although when the kids were babies we'd had lunch with Erika in Philly). Best of all, their daughter Samantha, now grown and with two baby girls of her own, was there with her family.
Madison and Ella LOVED Alan and Erika. The girls talked, they listened, they joked, and Alan clowned around with them. And, most significantly, Samantha noticed. My girls are the same distance apart in age as her babies, and she told both me and Erika that she wanted HER girls to turn out just like MY girls. "How do I do that?" she asked me. How gratifying that was. It was simple justice to be able to tell her about how I'm largely following in the pattern of her own parents.
The whole experience did make me realize, for a few minutes, what the girls are missing by not having grandparents. But I didn't dwell on what can't be helped. The girls are a lot better off for not having to deal with MY parents as grandparents, and as for David's parents, who would have been terrific, they unfortunately passed away long ago.
David took this photo of me, Alan, Erika, Ella, and Madison:
I hope I look like Erika when I'M in my late 50s.
I do love that man profoundly. It would have been too sappy and undignified really to show him the depths of my gratitude, but I'm pretty sure he got the general picture.
A milestone
I'm not going so far as to hope right now, but I just told Ella that her "half-hour-with-the-book" portion of school had run over.
"Can I just finish the story?" she asked. "It won't take me too long."
This is a first. Seriously. I know she's 8-almost-9, but the child simply doesn't (yet) like reading for pleasure. The rest of us will all all be sitting around reading for pleasure, and she'll be doing anything but. I'm holding out hope, of course, that this will change, that she's simply a late bloomer on this one. There is so much in the world of books for her to discover and enjoy, and I want her to get in the habit of doing so frequently.
Unfortunately, what Ella has going against her is that she's L-A-Z-Y. She can do most things she needs to do with little discomfort, and resents putting in effort. Not sure what I can do about this kind of thing except make sure she does what she needs to do, and push her to where she's expending some effort but not to where she positively resents the amount of work.
Today's can't-put-down story was one of those Rainbow Fairy books I hate. But I'll take it, with pleasure.
"Can I just finish the story?" she asked. "It won't take me too long."
This is a first. Seriously. I know she's 8-almost-9, but the child simply doesn't (yet) like reading for pleasure. The rest of us will all all be sitting around reading for pleasure, and she'll be doing anything but. I'm holding out hope, of course, that this will change, that she's simply a late bloomer on this one. There is so much in the world of books for her to discover and enjoy, and I want her to get in the habit of doing so frequently.
Unfortunately, what Ella has going against her is that she's L-A-Z-Y. She can do most things she needs to do with little discomfort, and resents putting in effort. Not sure what I can do about this kind of thing except make sure she does what she needs to do, and push her to where she's expending some effort but not to where she positively resents the amount of work.
Today's can't-put-down story was one of those Rainbow Fairy books I hate. But I'll take it, with pleasure.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Emails from a 10-year-old
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:03:20
Subject: Re: book
From: Madison Ross
To: Debra Ross
--------------------------------
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:22:42
Subject: Re: book
From: Debra Ross
To: Madison Ross
--------------------------------
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:24:04
Subject: Re: book
From: Madison Ross
To: Debra Ross
Subject: Re: book
From: Madison Ross
To: Debra Ross
Dear Deb
I can't take time to come down but my book is coming along so great
-Madison
--------------------------------
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:22:42
Subject: Re: book
From: Debra Ross
To: Madison Ross
Dear DEB?!!?!?!
Where's this coming from?
Love,
MOM
--------------------------------
Date: Tue, 22 Dec 2009 15:24:04
Subject: Re: book
From: Madison Ross
To: Debra Ross
um... is this not your name?
Monday, December 21, 2009
Happy Lightbulb Day
Our Lightbulb Day pinata hasn't been decorated yet, but at least this easiest-of-all-pinatas-to-make is ready to be covered with yellow crepe paper and stuffed with leftover Halloween candy. We're expecting friends at 6:30 for dinner and our annual celebration of reason, freedom, and productivity. I've got the games and stories and poems all planned, and technologically-appropriate gifts are wrapped and under the tree. It's going to be a good one.
Celebrate with us, at least in spirit!
Celebrate with us, at least in spirit!
Sunday, December 20, 2009
How about some photos?
Chopped down a tree (notice no snow)...
Decorated it...
Sang at Barnes & Noble for Chorus concert...
And posed for me.
Decorated it...
Sang at Barnes & Noble for Chorus concert...
And posed for me.
Friday, December 11, 2009
A bad milestone
I am feeling really bad about an incident last night. For the very first time, and, damn it, the only time, I called one of my children a bad name.
Last night, Madison snarled and snotted up at Ella, without provocation, and so very badly that before I could stop myself, I angrily called her a "little snot."
I don't do this. It's not just that I have a principle against calling people names; I don't do it.
And yet, there it is. Oy. I think what was going through my mind was something like, "Shock her. Make sure she understands and remembers that she can't talk this way."
I calmly apologized for it right away. But still.
My feeling bad about this doesn't make up for it. But I can't go overboard at making up for it, because then it will elevate the incident to an importance I hope it doesn't already have in her eyes.
But as soon as she gets home from this morning's science class, I'm going to apologize again. Casually. I do want to show that when we do something wrong to another person, we do our best to make sure that that person knows that we understand it and won't do it again. I want her not to think of her mother as a person who may call her a name. Ugh. Just typing that makes my insides twist.
Last night, Madison snarled and snotted up at Ella, without provocation, and so very badly that before I could stop myself, I angrily called her a "little snot."
I don't do this. It's not just that I have a principle against calling people names; I don't do it.
And yet, there it is. Oy. I think what was going through my mind was something like, "Shock her. Make sure she understands and remembers that she can't talk this way."
I calmly apologized for it right away. But still.
My feeling bad about this doesn't make up for it. But I can't go overboard at making up for it, because then it will elevate the incident to an importance I hope it doesn't already have in her eyes.
But as soon as she gets home from this morning's science class, I'm going to apologize again. Casually. I do want to show that when we do something wrong to another person, we do our best to make sure that that person knows that we understand it and won't do it again. I want her not to think of her mother as a person who may call her a name. Ugh. Just typing that makes my insides twist.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Madison Ross ROCKS!
Now, of course all of YOU already knew that Madison Ross rocks. At least, you know that WE at least think that Madison Ross rocks.
And now a New York City literary agent thinks she does too. The agent had posted a challenge on her blog to see if any brave soul wanted to record "The Twelve Tips on Queries," to be sung to the "Twelve Days of Christmas." Madison DID! She recorded it, edited it, and sent it to Janet Reid.
Here is her note to Madison:
We're about to blast off on this podcast series, folks! See you on the other side of the moon!
Update: If you check out the comments on Janet Reid's post, you'll see that one of them says: "She's home schooled? Why am I not surprised. It is comforting to know home schoolers will one day rule the world."
And now a New York City literary agent thinks she does too. The agent had posted a challenge on her blog to see if any brave soul wanted to record "The Twelve Tips on Queries," to be sung to the "Twelve Days of Christmas." Madison DID! She recorded it, edited it, and sent it to Janet Reid.
Here is her note to Madison:
Dear Miss Ross,
You totally rock.
I'm sure I can scare up an author or two.
I'll be in touch.
Meanwhile, don't forget me when you want to get your writing career started.
We're about to blast off on this podcast series, folks! See you on the other side of the moon!
Update: If you check out the comments on Janet Reid's post, you'll see that one of them says: "She's home schooled? Why am I not surprised. It is comforting to know home schoolers will one day rule the world."
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
It IS friction, after all
Says David, of Madison, on a cold, snowy morning:
"You would almost think that the motion of her jaw would keep her warm."
"You would almost think that the motion of her jaw would keep her warm."
Monday, December 07, 2009
It's good
Madison was beaming ecstatically after her first rehearsal tonight for Schoolhouse Rock. She has about four lines, and a solo in one of the songs.
I was impressed with the crew and the show in general. Very positive and nurturing, concerned with the quality of the show while mindful to keep it fun for the kids.
Sometimes, as a parent, you get a sense that an experience your child is having is particularly good for her, and you're happy with yourself for having figured out to put her right where she needs to be. This is one of those times.
Ella enjoyed her time with David, too. She'll have a lot of nice Daddy-and-Ella time for a while.
I was impressed with the crew and the show in general. Very positive and nurturing, concerned with the quality of the show while mindful to keep it fun for the kids.
Sometimes, as a parent, you get a sense that an experience your child is having is particularly good for her, and you're happy with yourself for having figured out to put her right where she needs to be. This is one of those times.
Ella enjoyed her time with David, too. She'll have a lot of nice Daddy-and-Ella time for a while.
Last night was Ella's first Messiah
The Bach Children's Chorus was in the Rochester Chamber Orchestra's annual production of Handel's Messiah last night. It was Ella's first one. It would have been Madison's third one except she had a doozy of a stomach virus last year. It started at 7pm and got out at 9:30 (The Messiah is very long.) The kids were only in 4 numbers (I think) but they had to be on stage the whole time.
Two years ago, some of the BCC kids (NOT Madison) started playing finger games on stage while they weren't singing. It was visible from the audience. I was mortified, and I'm sure the offender's parents were even more mortified. And then this year, instead of an afternoon performance, it was a night performance. Ella has never made it through the Messiah before, and THIS time she was singing in it. So to try to ensure that the girls were okay and didn't totally wilt on stage, I fed them Coke and chocolate chip cookies before they went on. Whether it was psychological or the effect of the sugar and caffeine, they did fine.
It was a good thing I was sitting where I couldn't see their faces, though. (M was behind the adults and E was on the risers on stage right and when they were sitting and waiting, I couldn't see her face.) This is because I would have not been listening to the music; instead I would have been analyzing their faces to make sure that they were still in the land of the conscious. As it was, I was able to enjoy the music, and next year, if they're in it again, I think I'll just simply be able to relax.
Rochesterians ovate anything, but this performance did merit it this time. So I felt no ambivalence at all about standing up with the rest of the audience.
Only two more performances to go for the season: Ella has a dance recital on Friday evening and they both have one more BCC concert.
Now my main problem is that I have to figure out Christmas presents. Sigh.
Two years ago, some of the BCC kids (NOT Madison) started playing finger games on stage while they weren't singing. It was visible from the audience. I was mortified, and I'm sure the offender's parents were even more mortified. And then this year, instead of an afternoon performance, it was a night performance. Ella has never made it through the Messiah before, and THIS time she was singing in it. So to try to ensure that the girls were okay and didn't totally wilt on stage, I fed them Coke and chocolate chip cookies before they went on. Whether it was psychological or the effect of the sugar and caffeine, they did fine.
It was a good thing I was sitting where I couldn't see their faces, though. (M was behind the adults and E was on the risers on stage right and when they were sitting and waiting, I couldn't see her face.) This is because I would have not been listening to the music; instead I would have been analyzing their faces to make sure that they were still in the land of the conscious. As it was, I was able to enjoy the music, and next year, if they're in it again, I think I'll just simply be able to relax.
Rochesterians ovate anything, but this performance did merit it this time. So I felt no ambivalence at all about standing up with the rest of the audience.
Only two more performances to go for the season: Ella has a dance recital on Friday evening and they both have one more BCC concert.
Now my main problem is that I have to figure out Christmas presents. Sigh.
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