Mom Vision

We all know that teachers have eyes in the back of their heads. That is how they can be writing on the board and still say, "Mary, stop passing notes" or "Johnny, put that toy back in your desk." Of course, professors all use overheads and projected images, so we face the class all the time. We don't need those extra eyes.

But Moms have "mom vision." Mom vision comes in two versions. The first is the ability of mothers to see items in other locations not within their normal field of vision. Like the ability to be in the kitchen and yell, "Your iPod is downstairs by the computer." (Mom vision is often accompanied by "mom ESP" as well, the ability to know that someone is looking for their iPod before they even ask.) Mom vision is particularly powerful when she is outside of the home. For instance, when she is called at work with the question, "Where is my blue biology folder?" With her mom vision she is able to say, "On the floor under the coffeetable next to the couch."

The second version of "mom vision" involves the ability to see things that kids do without actually looking at them. Although similar to the teachers' "eyes," Mom vision usually manifests itself more in response to the declaration: "Watch this, Mom!" Mom is able to see the child perform said action (cartwheel, difficult Wii maneuver, writing a name, etc.) without actually LOOKING at the child. "That's great, honey!" Mom is able to say without seemingly have looked in the direction of the child. Moms use this type of vision most often while cooking dinner or reading the newspaper.

Of course, there is also Mom hearing, but I'll leave that for another day.

Education and Social Class

My office at work has "adopted" a pre-K classroom in a local city school. We help with holiday parties, collect winter clothing and books, and once a week volunteers go to read in the classroom. There are about 15 4-5 year old kids in the class, all African American, from a poor and working class community. I've gone to read twice now, and I find it very difficult. I bring some of the books my boys liked when they were younger and the kids seem to enjoy the stories. It is the teachers I have issues with.

I realize that some people who read this are, or will be, teachers. As a sociologist, I certainly realize the role of the school system in the socialization process. And I'm only there for 1/2 hour, so who am I to judge? But, it seems like the teachers spend most of the 30 minutes I'm there yelling at the kids--"sit down" "sit up" "stop fidgeting" "be quiet" "don't laugh" "keep your hands in your lap"....There is a steady stream of commands. When I read, I like to ask questions--"what do you think will happen next?" "can you see the dog?". But the teachers don't want the kids to react at all, just to sit quietly. I want to just get down on the rug and let them crowd around and look at the book and climb in my lap. I can see that the teachers are afraid that if they give an inch the kids will be out of control, but it is very hard for me to see the enthusiasm and spirit of these kids quashed. No wonder they learn to dislike school. I'm sure there is another side to this, but it is hard for me to see.

Research problems

This year I am on "research leave" from my academic position. That means that I have no teaching responsibilities and no administrative responsibilities. I am free to devote all of my time to research work. That is great. And that is terrible. I got off to a bad start when I got pulled into writing a big grant proposal that was due in September. My dream of a slow summer was lost. Then I agreed to write two book chapters. My thought was that these would get me back into the literature, would be relatively easy to do, and would give me some minimum product to show for the leave. I forgot that I don't really like to write all that much....a bad thing for an academic to admit. I like analyzing information, but they whole writing it up part takes a lot more effort. So, I finished one chapter, I'm behind on the second, and then what did I do? Agree to write a third!!! AFTER I had come to the realization that I didn't want to write the first two. Am I stupid or what??? Chapter #1 was on health and mortality. Chapter #2 is on health behaviors. Chapter #3 is on adult obesity. All in areas in which I know a lot and have already written. In the meantime, I have not devoted nearly as much time as I would have liked to my own original research. Not because I've run out of ideas, but because I waste so much time on this other writing. Of course, what do I do instead? Write this blog entry....Okay, back to smoking and health.....

What do Moms do?

This weekend I am meeting an old friend for a weekend at a spa retreat. We plan to get a massage, facial, manicure and pedicure, then drink some wine, take some walks, and talk a lot. I think it will be a great time. When I was telling my boys (ages 17 and 13) about the trip their reaction was, "“We thought spas were for ladies!” I pointed out that I was, indeed, a lady, but they countered that no, I was just a mom!

So what is it that distinguishes a "mom" from a "lady?" In my house, at least, the list would probably include: moms do laundry, ladies don't; moms clean toilets, ladies don't; moms make dinner, ladies don't...you get the picture. But, another list would be: moms get hugs from their kids (even when they are teens!), ladies don't; moms see the smiles when the college acceptance letters come in, ladies don't; moms see the pride in getting the robots, rockets, and roller coasters to work, ladies don't. I'll take being defined as a mom any day.

Still, I think moms deserve a spa weekend now and then!

Poetry

I'm not much of a poetry fan, although I went through a phase as an adolescent. Still, I do find some poetry interesting. What is really interesting, though, is to see my son get excited about poetry. I think he is finally reaching an age where he is interested in looking beyond literal meanings. I remember taking a class in high school called, "Truth, Love, and Beauty." We explored each theme through stories and poems. One of the poems we read was Keats' Ode on a Grecian Urn and I loved it. I remember that feeling of looking beyond the words and feeling like I had accomplished something. It's nice. I doubt my son will ever become a scholar of English, but having the experience of analyzing a poem is still good practice.

Skiing, or not

ME-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I learned to ski as a kid. There was a very small ski area near our house where I learned. My dad, older sister and younger brother skiied. I think others of the kids tried at various times, but we were the core group. A few times a year we would make a day trip up into Michigan to a bigger hill--Swiss Valley. And maybe once a year we would make a weekend trip to Michigan or UP Michigan to a bigger hill...Iron Mountain, Boyne, maybe some others. Once I got married I quit since my husband wasn't into it and we didn't live anywhere where it was really convenient. Then babies came, etc. About 6 years ago I decided to take it up again when my older son started skiing. Did okay for a few years, then had a major knee accident. That took me off the hills for a year. But, back up on the horse I went and last year had a great time skiing.

So, what happens this year? I thought I would go a lot during the holiday break, but we had some rotten weather and then I got a bad cold. Okay, I'll go over the weekend...but one of the chairlifts was broken and I heard that a roundtrip took over an hour, so I didn't bother. Today it has rained....

When will I get out to the slopes?? I like the first run of the year to be on good conditions, because I still get a little nervous about the knee. I'm not a very good skier, so poor conditions really put me at a disadvantage. So right now I'm in this limbo of really wanted to ski, but really wanted to do it in good conditions. I'm afraid if I wait spring will come first!

NOT ME----------------------------------------------------------

Books, books, and more books

I love to read. I remember when I first learned to read. In kindergarten there were labels on all of the objects in the room (chair, desk, door). At one point the teacher commented to me that those letters were the names of those items. It was like a light bulb for me, that was all there was to reading? Just using those letters? I thought it was more mysterious. In first grade, the teacher had me read the first primer...I still remember it.
Run.
Run, Tom, run.
Run, run, run.
And there was Tom with his red wagon, running. After that, I went back to my desk and read the rest of the book. I was reading. In second grade our teacher was reading Winnie the Pooh out loud and let me follow along in my own copy of the book. It was the first time I realized that words could go different directions on the page. There was a scene in which Pooh is using a balloon to reach honey high in a tree, and the words go up the page as he rises. Wow!

So, it was with delight that I just finished reading The Book Thief by Markus Zuzak. It is technically young adult fiction, and was recommended to me by my 13 year old, but I really enjoyed it. Well, it is pretty grim, so enjoy may not be the appropriate word. It caught me. The young heroine has a love of words and books, just like I did. She would do anything, risk her life even, to read, to read anything and everything.