Teacher of the Year

If you can sew on a button, cook scrambled eggs, lead a group of preschoolers in “Duck, Duck, Goose” select appropriate curtains for your living room, or sketch the food pyramid, it's probably because you took a class in Family and Consumer Science.

What are Family and Consumer Sciences? It’s the new-fangled name for good old Home Economics. You probably think of Home Ec as a required middle or high school class where you burned the grilled cheese sandwich beyond recognition. My husband recalls Home Ec as the class where he “accidentally” turned the onion dip green.

But Home Ec is really much more than that. The International Federation for Home Economics, which serves as a consultant to the United Nations, states that Home Economics includes the study of food, nutrition and health; textiles and clothing; shelter and housing; consumerism and consumer science; household management; design and technology; food science and hospitality; human development and family studies; education and community services and much more.

If you’re wondering how I came to be such an advocate for Home Ec, it’s because my mother has been teaching it at my alma mater for more than 25 years.

In my high school, Home Ec is one of the most popular departments and my mom, Ms. Jayne Stoll, is well-known as one of the school’s “cool” teachers. Over the years, she has taught cooking, child development, interior design, fashion, home computers, and more. She was named Teacher of the Year a few years back and at the time, everyone wondered why it took so long for her fellow teachers to get around to honoring her.

In my mom’s classes, you get to eat whatever you’ve cooked, play with a sewing machine, go on field trips to Ikea, and discuss “Jon & Kate Plus Eight.” As part of her Child Development course, she runs a preschool in the high school, which she is careful to label “play school.” Two times a week, preschoolers come to play and learn while the high school students observe and discuss their behavior. In my senior year, I took Gourmet Cuisine with my mom and although I am ashamed to say that I got a C on her test on kitchen cleanliness, I aced the final exam by making a spectacular Baked Alaska.

This year, my mom is retiring from her teaching job and is finally leaving high school, 42 years after she was awarded her diploma. While I don’t imagine that she’ll use her retirement to whip up Baked Alaska for my dad every night, I have no doubt that Home Economics will play a large part in her daily life. After all, don’t Home Economics play a large part in all of our lives?

Even if you have a reserved seat at your favorite restaurant, you must make some kind of food for yourself each week. Even if you rent an apartment, you considered its layout and design before signing the lease. Even if you don’t have children, you might have to choose some appropriate toys for a niece or nephew for a birthday gift.

What my mother teaches are the skills we need to cope with the challenges of everyday life and she teaches them in a way that her students find engaging, exciting, and fun. And they are lessons that stick in your head, long after you’ve left her class.

One recent afternoon, my kids were whining for a snack and the pantry was bare. It didn’t take long for me to remember the homemade pretzels we made in Home Ec. Fifteen minutes later, little hands are busy rolling dough, stomachs are filled, and I am glad I chose to take Gourmet Cuisine and I’m even gladder that the class was taught by my mom.

The next time you find yourself whipping a snack from scratch, balancing your checkbook, or putting together a Halloween costume, take a minute to thank your Home Ec teacher for these valuable skills.

Thanks, Ms. Stoll...I mean Mom!

Vacation

Henry used to have a hard time saying the word "interesting" and his mispronunciation has stuck with me. So, I now present you with:

Ten Inn-ser-ess-in Facts About Our Trip to Niagara Falls

1. While sitting outside eating ice cream, we not only heard a Celine Dion song but also a Sarah McLachlan tune! Those Canadians love their musicians.

2. The sign by the hotel pool said it was 1 meter deep. We jumped in and hoped for the best...turns out the water was never above Henry's chin.

3. Canadian restaurants are both compassionate and accomodating when it comes to food allergies. They made me slightly afraid of going back to our favorite restaurants at home.

4. We ran into some friends from Clinton while we were there, which isn't that strange unless you consider that it's the same family we ran into when we were on Cape Cod last summer. We figure that if we ever had enough money for a vacation home, they'd probably end up as our next door neighbors.

5. My wonderful husband got so flustered by the Border Patrol that he told them that our reason for visiting Canada was for "a holiday." I think he thought we were entering England.

6. While waiting in line for an attraction to open, we witnessed a fellow tourist videotaping everything around her, including a 5 minute segment of the employee wiping rain off of a turnstile.

7. Elizabeth was terrified when she saw a simulation of a dummy (complete with a sack over his head) being electrocuted in an electric chair at the Guinness World Records Museum.

8. This was the first time the kids stayed in a hotel. I woke up at about 3 AM one night to find that Henry got out of his bed, climbed into mine, and fell back asleep clutching my knees.

9. The kids and I were mesmerized by an Anne of Green Gables animated TV show on Canadian Public Television. There were frequent mutterings of "this is weird..."

10. We were so confused by the way things were priced. They were either completely overpriced for the tourists and/or priced in Canadian dollars that we were seriously left wondering if paying $9 for 4 AA batteries was reasonable.

I recently reconnected with a high school friend named Catherine and after a brief summary of how our lives have changed in the last 16 years, she said, “I just have to ask you. Were you on the news in Massachusetts about 9 or 10 years ago?”

Yes, Catherine, I was on the news. And it was mindboggling.

Just after my husband and I got married, we prudently decided to spend a little of our hard-earned money on a new stereo. We went to a local shop called Cambridge Sound Works, which is pretty well known in the Boston area for selling quality stereo equipment and speakers. We had done a bit of research in advance and had thought about what we were looking for. With the aid of a helpful salesperson, it didn’t take us too long to choose the equipment we were looking for.

While we were finishing the sale, we noticed that amongst the other shoppers was a television news crew. The female reporter approached me and told me that she was doing a story on how difficult it is for women to buy electronics. She asked if she could ask me a few questions.

I have looked back on that moment many times over the years, and every time I scream to my naïve and younger self, “NO! DON’T DO IT!” I don’t know what possessed me to say yes to the reporter in the first place. While I hesitate to put labels on my social and political beliefs, I might call myself a feminist. After all, in my purse was a credit card bearing my “married” name, which hasn’t changed a bit from my “maiden” name.

Why would shopping for electronics be more difficult for women? Have you ever gone shopping with a man? Typically, they’re not necessarily what I would call “browsers.” They give the products a once-over, look for one that suits their needs, and bring it to the cashier. Women shoppers tend to be all about browsing, selection, and careful decision making.

But, I did say yes to the reporter and her interrogation began. After a short time, it became very clear to both my husband and I that what she was really looking for was a quote from me saying that shopping for electronics is simply “mindboggling.”

A sample from the interview:
Reporter: So, would you say shopping for electronics is mindboggling?
Laura: Well…it can be hard to make a choice.
Reporter: Oh, you’re right. That choice can be mindboggling, wouldn’t you say?
Laura: Umm…I wouldn’t say that. It is a little daunting…you know, spending all that money.
Reporter: Definitely. If I were shopping here today, I’d definitely say it was mindboggling.

You get the drift.

The whole incident left me fuming and embarrassed. I was too ashamed to even watch the 5 o’clock news that night. Apparently Catherine did and who knows how many other thousands of Bostonians.

I was really glad to hear from Catherine again after all these years. And I’m even happier that when she saw me on the news 10 years ago, she didn’t hear me use the word “mindboggling.”

Wrong Number

Wednesday, May 6, 9:42 a.m.
Phone rings.

Laura: Hello?
Caller: Um...yeah...hello...is Fred Turner there?
Laura: No. There's no one here by that name.
Caller: Oh. There's no Mr. Turner there?
Laura: No.
Caller: Oh. Is this 315?
Laura: Yes.
Caller: Is this 315-853?
Laura: Yes.
Caller: Is this 315-853-2694?
Laura: No. You've got two numbers mixed up.
Caller: Oh. I meant, is this 315-853-2964?
Laura: Yes, but there's no Mr. Turner.
Caller: Oh. Well, did Mr. Turner used to live there?
Laura: No.
Caller: Oh. Well, did the man that used to live there repair clocks?
Laura: No. The man that used to live here was a psychiatrist.
Caller: Oh. Is this Clinton, NY?
Laura: Yes.
Caller: Do you know a Mr. Turner who repairs clocks?
Laura: No.
Caller: Oh dear. I've been holding on to this number for several years. I have a clock that needs to be fixed.
What Laura wanted to say: Lady, you need more than your clock repaired.
What the always polite Laura really said: Sorry I can't help you. Good luck!

A Good Laugh

Ben just shared this link with me. It's a hilarious customer review from Amazon.com.
http://www.amazon.com/review/R3K9PWS2J0S7AK/ref=cm_cr_pr_viewpnt#R3K9PWS2J0S7AK

Happy Mother's Day Dad

My husband Ben has been an absolutely amazing father to our children from the very beginning, which is amazing considering that his paternity was questioned in his first week of being a father.
A few days after her birth, our daughter Elizabeth was hospitalized to treat a moderate case of jaundice. As part of the testing, the doctors checked her blood type. A young and naive medical student was sent in to relay the information that Elizabeth’s blood type was O positive.
“But that can’t be!” Ben exclaimed. “Laura is O positive and I’m type AB!” The med student fumbled with his clipboard, avoided eye contact, and muttered something about checking with the lab.
When we got home from the hospital, Ben checked his Red Cross Blood Donor card and it said he was actually type A.
A few days later, we arrived at the doctor’s office for a follow-up visit. When it was our turn, the nurse whisked my husband away, telling him there was some unfinished paperwork to be taken care of. Once I got into the exam room with the baby, the doctor very gently stroked my back and said, “There’s been no mistake about the blood type. If there’s something you need to tell your husband, we can help you…”
The doctor’s earnest belief that I had an extramarital affair and my sheer exhaustion caused me to laugh hysterically.
We ended up moving out of town a few months later and have spared ourselves the embarrassment of having to face that doctor ever again, although we laugh thinking that the med student probably shares our scandalous story when exchanging tales of his first days on the job.
Despite being confused about his own blood type, Ben is really an intelligent and thoughtful man. He seems to know a little about everything, including the genetic intricacies of blood types. When the kids are sick, he explains the anatomy and decodes the doctor’s diagnosis. He always reads my articles and columns and has supportive and helpful suggestions every time. He completely gutted and renovated two homes, one of which we were living in at the time. And when something breaks, he can always fix it.
One very cold December night, we were driving home from doing some errands when we got a flat tire. Luckily, we managed to navigate the car into our own driveway and despite the fact that it was 20 degrees outside and past sunset, Ben set right to work changing the tire.
He came inside after a few minutes and told me that the light from the outside spotlight wasn’t enough to work by and asked if we had a flashlight. I searched all three junk drawers, the basement and the shed, and found nothing. Luckily our kids had joined the search and found their Little Tykes hippopotamus flashlight. Ben decided it would have to do.
Little did Ben realize when he headed out the door that some insightful (and probably wealthy) Little Tykes designer had configured this flashlight so that it only stayed on for about a minute, saving parents the expense of having to replace the batteries every night. The flashlight was also equipped with noises (what toy isn’t these days?), so every time you needed the light to come on again, you had to squeeze the handle and listen to the hippo laugh, “Uh huh huh, uh huh huh, uh huh huh huh huh.”
So there my husband was, lying on his back on the hard driveway in 20 degrees in the middle of December, trying to unscrew a rusted spare tire in the dark, and being taunted every 60 seconds by a blue plastic hippopotamus. Did he complain? Not really. Did he successfully change the tire? Of course.
Ben always seems to meet challenges like these with a sunny outlook, humor, and barely any complaint. He teaches seventh grade students all day long but never balks at taking on extra work during weekends and holidays to supplement our income. In the evening, he coaches the soccer team, helps with homework, takes the kids to doctor’s appointments, and oversees bedtime while I’m at work.
Do you remember that old 1980’s movie “Mr. Mom?” Michael Keaton starred as a stay-at-home dad who wrestled the vacuum cleaner, barely knew how to put on a diaper, and just doesn’t have a clue. While that movie is good for a laugh, my husband is not that Mr. Mom, and our children are much better for it.
Ben isn’t perfect. He tells me repeatedly that he doesn’t do dishes. He has a tendency to save every scrap of paper that crosses his desk. He likes to procrastinate lesson planning until the last possible moment, when he often enlists the help of the rest of the family. And the other day, Ben said he couldn’t remember when Mother’s Day is.
It really doesn’t matter to me if he forgets Mother’s Day. This year, I’m going to combine Mother’s Day with Father’s Day into one celebration of the devotion that we both have to our family, because I know I wouldn’t be half as successful at being a mother if it wasn’t for Ben’s love and support.