Fail Kitchen -- Apple Crescent Rolls (NOT a fail!)

Go ahead and google 'shiny bacon vaginas' and you'll see what I'm talking about.






 

Ask a Teacher - What'd you do today?

We've all had that conversation with our kids. You excitedly pick your child up from the carpool line and the first question you ask is "What do you do at school today?" The answer most often is "Nothing."

Why do they do that? You've been gone from them all day and you just want to hear what they did all day. But they just finished a long day at school and they're ready to not be in school mode. Pushing and saying "C'mon, you had to have done something! What'd you do today?" is only going to produce an irritated "NOTHING!" in reply.

Instead of launching into questions at pick up, it's a good idea to give your child a little bit to decompress. When you get home from work, the last thing you want to talk about is work. Your kid is the same way.

Wait until dinner time or when you have a quiet moment to ask, but don't just ask what they did today. If you asked me what I did today, I'd stare blankly and try to figure out which part you want me to tell you. Help them out by focusing on one thing. My go to is "What was your favorite part of school today?" Sometimes this doesn't work and my son just tells me he liked recess the best. You can also focus on one part of the day, such as asking about what book was read in class or what they did in science.

Getting kids to open up can be difficult at first, but it's an important habit to start with your child.


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Emilie is a high school English teacher with two children. She holds a Bachelors in English and a Masters in Secondary Education. After completing student teaching at an urban, Persistently Low Achieving (PLA) school, she was placed at another PLA school in the same school district. Her Ask a Teacher column can also be found over at Teaching Ain't for Heroes.

Raising kids who don't suck -- Guest Post

#GamerGate. MRAs. PUAs. Jian Ghomeshi. #ByeFelipe. The 2014 Midterm Elections.

I’ve got a stepson who just turned seven and two kids arriving in May, and this is the environment their mother and I will be raising them in. I suppose it’s better than raising them in Europe during the Dark Ages, but I always kind of imagined that humanity would suck less than this by the time I got around to having kids of my own. Since we still suck, though, how the hell are we supposed to raise kids who don’t?

I’ve always imagined that to be the purpose of parenting: to raise kids who don’t suck. Or at least kids who suck less than you. Like, I hope that my kids come around to feminism before they turn 40. I hope they don’t get caught up in the self-loathing and judgement of fundamentalist religion. I hope they pursue their dreams and passions instead of letting other people talk them into doing “the practical thing.” I hope they learn to be comfortable in their own skins. I hope they learn how to be kind and forgiving and compassionate. Most of all, I hope they learn how to think for themselves.

But how do you teach those things? I know that my example has more of an impact than my words, but is setting a good example enough? What if I say all the right things and set a great example and none of it works?

I know, I know...I’m probably overthinking this, but it’s hard not to. I read the comments of angry men in response to feminist issues, and I wonder how many of them were raised by well-meaning parents who said the right things and set the right examples and still ended up with kids who are shitheads. I feel like I have an advantage in that I’m working in partnership with an incredible person; I’m confident that her influence will bring out the best in them, because I see the effect it’s having on the Monkey. He’s emulating his mother’s best qualities more and more every day, and that gives me hope. And still, I worry.

Also? I just realized that the title I picked for this article could have been misleading, and there’s a possibility that someone might have clicked on it hoping to get advice on how to raise kids who don’t suck. If you happen to be one of those people, I’m sorry. The truth is, I know nothing about how to raise children. I’m not even entirely sure that I know how to change a diaper, let alone how to help a child navigate the emotionally and psychologically hostile world around them. I’m reading a lot of other people’s advice and hoping that at least some of it comes naturally. I mean, there has to be something living in the recesses of my unconscious mind about what to do with a kid, right? I don’t think humanity would have lasted this long if we didn’t get some of our parenting skills instinctually.

So here’s to hoping that a combination of accidentally meeting and falling in love with the right person, some instinctive child-rearing ability, and a healthy dose of dumb luck will help me pull this parenting thing off. And if they turn out to be shitheads anyway? Well, I’m sure I’ll still love them. I’ll just make fun of them and bide my time until I can turn the grandkids against them.


...

Jerry Kennedy is (in no particular order) a fiance, stepdad, writer, actor, director, singer, and web dude living in The Greatest City In the World, Sacramento, CA. His hobbies include reading, skateboarding, falling off his skateboard, drinking, karaoke (especially after drinking), and making love at midnight in the dunes on the cape. You'll find his irregular ramblings about life, the universe, and everything at http://jerrykennedy.com

Recipe Monday - Easy and Incredible Lasagna

Cooking is generally hard for me, but one thing I've got down is lasagna.

You really can't fail at this...it's that easy.

Lasagna noodles

Sauce

Shredded Mozzarella cheese

Shredded Parmesan cheese

Ricotta Cheese

Ground beef

Spinach

1) Start boiling a lot of water and cook 9 noodles

2) Preheat oven to 350

3) Brown the ground beef until cooked through

4) Add sauce to the beef and turn heat to low

5) Mix together all the cheeses, saving some of the mozz and parm.

6) Rinse spinach

7) Put a thin layer of sauce on bottom of lasagna pan

8) Layer three noodles across

9) Put a layer of beef / sauce there

10) Layer of the mixed cheese

11) Layer of spinach

12) Repeat all layering until last noodles are on top and all ingredients used.

13) Sprinkle sauce on top

14) Spinkle rest of mozz and parm on top

15) Bake for 30-35 minutes.

DONE.

Eat for a week.

 

On actually being a parent

Parenting can be pretty hard for me. I worked tirelessly for three years (when the girls were 2-5), entertaining them, teaching them how to use the bathroom, how to eat and drink, how to wipe, how to make their beds. I played with them endlessly. From getting their balls that rolled under the couch, to building lego towers, to pretending to be a scary witch who would lock them in a make-believe tower should they be caught. My entire days, for those three years, basically consisted of me staring at their darling little faces. And they needed that.

Then in their fifth year, they gained a little independence. They would go out and play with the neighborhood kids, they could sit still for a 2-hour movie, they could construct hours-long make believe games on their own.

So, they went off to kindergarten and I started grad school. They joined capoeira and I started writing regularly as a freelancer. I published books, I made contacts, I got into publications. At long last! My life was set to begin again! I filled my to-do list with things FOR ME TO DO, cleaning, housework, homework, writing, pitching, publishing, going to the gym. The time we had for interaction dwindled.

And I celebrated!

It's not that I don't like hanging out with my kids, I really do. It's that I had literally put my life on hold to raise them. And I prematurely thought I was done.


And when I found out that I was wrong, I didn't handle it right.

They started misbehaving. Not wanting to be left to their own devices. They still wanted my attention (being only six, after all), and started clamoring for it by fighting, giving me attitude and resuming the tantrums they had thrown as toddlers.

Instead of nipping this in the bud, I rebelled myself, like I also was a petulant child. I'd finally gotten a taste of freedom, a promise of what my life could be. I didn't want to give it up. I had things to do.

So, I grew snappish with them. They'll literally cry for my attention, or poke each other's eyes out, or look at each other or breathe on each other, you know, all the earth-shattering things little kids can do to each other.

They can no longer play nicely. Hell, they can't even watch TV in the same room for more than ten minutes without attempting to kill one another. And instead of nipping these fights in the bud, redirecting them or funneling their energy into a different activity, I grow annoyed. Why can't they play? What is going on? So I break it up in a negative manner, send one or the other to her room for five minutes, then she comes out and they do it again.

I don't enjoy their company, and I don't get anything done. Then I blame them. Then they blame me. And we all live in a hellish mockery of a home.

So, this week, I restructured. After totally losing it about my kids, and my writing, and my school and my stress, and my illnesses (my body has been breaking down all over the place), I took a step back and re-prioritized.

Yes, it's great that I can "work from home" and "be a writer". That is fantastic. It's great my kids can feed themselves and dress themselves and (sometimes) entertain themselves. But they're not ready to be understanding enough to just go do their own thing, and me pushing them to do that without giving guidance will clearly end in tears.

So, I dialed back a bit. In fact, it's 5 p.m. and this blog is the only thing I've written all day. I started it at 10 a.m., and have been able to get in a sentence here and a sentence there. Very reminiscent of when the girls were three, in fact.

I've toned down my efforts in grad school. Maybe I'll only get Cs this semester instead of As. Oh  well.

Because none of that other stuff matters if I can't bring up children who know their boundaries and have the ability to keep themselves busy and happy without needling me or each other.

To get that, I have to do what is counter intuitive and actually spend more time with them, not less.

And really, it's not that much more time since when I'm trying to ignore them because I'm on deadline, I have to spend nearly as much time disciplining them as I spent with them today...only it's all negative.

So, yeah. More time on the kids, not less. But the time must be spent teaching them how to play without me. By playing with them. On paper it makes no sense.

But based on today, it just might work.

And then, maybe in a few more years, I'll be able to write like I want to write. Maybe. Or maybe not.