My Son’s Occupational Aptitude

March 4th, 2010

By Matthew Sherman

Now that Elliott is walking around and displaying even more of a distinct personality, (i.e. biting us when we don’t let him do something he wants to do), it seems like now would be a good time to start trying to pigeonhole him into his future occupation based on things he has shown some semblance of aptitude for. Here’s what I have so far:

Professional soccer player:

Pros:
Has an odd tendency to place toys on the ground with the intent of kicking them around.
Has good soccer genes assuming that talent skips a generation.
Already proven he can take a rubber ball to the face like a champ.

Cons:
Has a tendency to intentionally step on the object he’s kicking, purposefully tripping himself and then laughing about it.
Often will not so much ‘kick’ an object as he will ‘awkwardly dance around it with his hands in the air.’
May try to kiss and/or bite teammates and opponents.

Prop Comic:

Pros:
Believes there is nothing funnier in this world than placing an object on his head or a parent’s head and watching it fall to the ground.
No concept of the difference between being laughed at and being laughed with.

Cons:
Pretty low standards in terms of what he finds funny. (“Really? Peek-a-boo still gets you?”)

Television Critic:

Pros:
The few times that Elliott is allowed to watch a YouTube clip or a small segment of something on TV, he has pretty good taste. He laughs at Sesame Street skits that are decidedly funny and seems to find Jon Stewart particularly amusing for some reason.

Cons:
Often chuckles along with a laugh track without discernment. (Although perhaps his identifying with the masses might be a marketable quality.)

Firefighter:

Pros:
Loves his fire truck.
Has empathy for other living beings as evidenced by his bursting into tears whenever the dog is punished.

Cons:
High probability that, when told he needs to exit the fire truck, would scream, cry and wail “No, no no!”
Petrified of cats.

Gluten free, egg free, dairy free, citrus free and…tasty!

March 2nd, 2010

By Linda Cohen

Last month, we found out from a blood test that my son tested highly reactive to multiple food categories including wheat, dairy, eggs and citrus to name just the worst. When we received this news, I felt completely overwhelmed. Overnight, I had to reconsider everything he was eating and all the meals I normally prepare for our family. I was saddened that many of our ritual foods like challah on Friday night and waffles on Sunday morning would be difficult.

Amazingly though this discovery has actually been a blessing in disguise. In less than a month, we can  see a visible difference in my son – he seems so much happier, isn’t as congested and best of all feels so much better. Plus,  it hasn’t been as bad or as hard as I first expected it would be.

We have discovered many new foods that we are all enjoying and my kids are actually trying things they previously wouldn’t have tried.  I have also been blessed by people everywhere helping me. Friends wrote back to me after I made an initial plea for help. School parents have offered guidance and first hand knowledge, colleagues referred me to friends who could offer support and most surprising of all, several complete strangers have answered questions at the grocery store when they saw me pondering what choices to make with recipes and ingredients. One of those strangers recommended Bob’s Red Mill gluten free brownie mix which has quickly become a family favorite. They are wonderful.

Additionally, if someone had to become a gluten free vegan Portland, Oregon is probably one of the best places for that to happen. We visited The Cascadia Traditional bakery the first weekend, a completely gluten free bakery and my son was thrilled to have a carrot cupcake with all acceptable ingredients. We have also been to two restaurants since this discovery and both were a thumbs up with the kids. Vita Cafe is in Northeast Portland and the Laughing Planet in Southwest Portland both had many items to fit his dietary needs.

I have learned that almost every grocery store in town, including Fred Meyers, Winco, Whole Foods and  Trader Joes, has gluten free products. I am somewhat partial to New Seasons though because the day after we found out, I got personal attention for almost an hour from a customer service representative who walked me through the store and answered all my initial questions. The following week, I attended New Seasons Gluten Free class/tour and spent an other hour and a half with a nutritionist learning many more things about food sensitivities and the products they carry that can work for us. These two opportunities were incredibly valuable.

Finally, my son has really looked at this discovery with a great sense of humor. Tonight, he told me this funny story.  He said, “My teacher always walks around at lunch and jokes with us. She asks us, ‘What food do you have that has my name on it?’ Today, I answered her, ‘Well Ms. E if you want a gluten free, egg free, dairy free, citrus free and taste free breakfast bar I am happy to share!’ ” His good sense of humor combined with a desire to try and feel better has made the whole experience better than I could have imagined. Happy eating!

Recipe: Pizza Sauce

February 28th, 2010

By Mary Rarick

Since I love to cook our family tends to make meals from scratch. And so I have no idea why I’ve never even attempted to make pizza sauce.

Yesterday, after discovering we were out of bottled sauce, I started scouring cookbooks and the internet to see if I could find a recipe that would please both the adult and teen palates that grace our household.

Mission accomplished: the following recipe, the first one I tried, elicited rave reviews from both my husband, a pizza connoisseur, and my 15-year-old son. Give it a try and let me know what you think.

Pizza Sauce

Ingredients:

1 (6 oz.) can tomato paste

6 fluid oz. warm water

3 T. grated Parmesan cheese

1 tsp. minced garlic

2 T. honey

1 tsp. anchovy paste (optional – I used a splash of fish sauce)

1/4 tsp. dried oregano

1/4 tsp. dried marjoram

1/4 tsp. dried basil

1/4 tsp. ground black pepper

1/8 tsp. cayenne pepper

1/8 tsp. dried red pepper flakes

salt to taste

Directions:

1. In a small bowl, combine tomato paste, water, Parmesan cheese, garlic, honey, anchovy paste, onion powder, oregano, marjoram, basil, ground black pepper, cayenne pepper, red pepper flakes and salt; mix together, breaking up any clumps of cheese.

2. Sauce should sit for 30 minutes to blend flavors; spread over pizza dough and prepare pizza as desired.

Off the Treadmill: New Year’s resolutions gone awry

February 27th, 2010

By Mary Rarick

What is it they say about the best-laid plans? You know how I was all jacked up about pilates and yoga and getting in shape? Well, I still am. It’s just that until this past week my Nike’s hadn’t seen the light of day in…umm…well…three or four weeks.

Which got me wondering: how does that happen?

1. I was sick. Twice. With that nasty sore throat ickky cough thing that lasts for weeks.

2. Because I was sick, I got behind with my work which meant that when I felt better I had not time to work out because I was working so much.

3. Because I was working so much any spare time that I had I wanted to spend with my family. Let me clarify: that time was not spent at the gym.

And so, once again, I find that I’m dusting myself and my gym membership off and starting all over again.

Can you relate?

P.S. I need a cookie.

Oregon Symphony’s Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester Ticket Give-Away

February 22nd, 2010

Step back in time with to the cabarets of old Berlin. When Germany’s Max Raabe and the Palast Orchester bring a taste of the ’20s to town, it’ll be an evening so enchanting, you’d half expect it to be in black and white.

For your chance to win a pair of tickets to this performance on Wednesday, February 24th at 7:30 p.m., email editor@portlandfamily.com with your name and phone number. Please include the words “Oregon Symphony” in the subject line.

Note: The Oregon Symphony does not perform.

Small Talk

February 22nd, 2010

By Matthew Sherman

Went to the mall last weekend. Again. It’s beginning to be Elliott’s home away from home. We have ventured out a handful of times in the past few months early in the morning when the place is virtually empty. At 9 a.m. he can shout and listen to his echo, he can ride with me up and down escalators until he is satiated and he has the opportunity to run around like a maniac without getting creamed by the stroller and teenage armadas. That was what we faced on the weekend which, instead of just being a chance to get out of the house for a while, was a humanitarian effort, accompanying Shelbi as she looked for clothes. I was reminded again today of an unfortunate byproduct of having a small child. It’s virtually impossible to be ignored.

Ever since about the 7th grade perhaps my biggest goal in life has been to not draw attention to myself. I’ve never thought it would be fun to be the frontman of a rock band. Let me be Charlie Watts. You still get to play great music and travel and you don’t have to make an ass out of yourself on stage. And why would anyone want to be a cast member on Saturday Night Live? Let me be a writer. Backstage. Less accountability. Count me in. But I digress.

For a solid decade, I made staying anonymous a science. Things changed a bit when I met Shelbi, one of only a few people I have known in my life with an absolute knack for attracting the crazies. I am convinced that I could ride the same bus to and from work every day for 20 years and never be approached by a single person in that time. I once was asked why my face’s natural expression made me look angry. But Shelbi? Plop her on a subway or a bus or in a line for a roller coaster and Beer Gut McChatterson will have knocked out his life story to her and invited us over for dinner in a matter of minutes. I think in five years of marriage we have helped to average each other out a bit in this regard.

But my lust for anonymity continues to be assaulted every time I’m out with Elliott. I’ll be ordering a coffee and hear the familiar sounds of baby talk and my shoulders will slump. “How do those fingers taste?” someone will ask my son and I just know I’m about to be engaged in a conversation. It’s not that I can’t handle myself in a small talk battle of trite questions vs. banal answers. In fact, I feel like my seven years talking to high school athletes and coaches have trained me for this moment. But I still feel uncomfortable every time. I even thought about making up a few dozens cards to carry around with me each time I go out in public to hand out. They would feature these answers in no particular order.

“Yes he is cute.”

“He is __ months old”

“He is my first”

“His name is Elliott”

“Yes, we’re out on an adventure today”

“Yes he is a good boy”

“He sucks on those two fingers when someone is invading his personal space.”

Hmm, that idea started as a joke but I think it has legs.

Sleepovers, next to carpooling, the bane of my parental existence

February 21st, 2010

By Mary Rarick

Now I remember why I hate sleepovers. Yes, there’s the noise, and the inconvenience of not having use of my house, and the feeling of being held captive in my house babysitting other people’s children. And the noise. But that’s not the worst part of sleepovers.

The worst part of sleepovers is the parents. That’s right. The ones who drop their kids off never to check in or return.

Not just the little ones. The teens are abandoned without vehicles, and the host parents are then expected to provide rides home.

So why do I host more sleepovers than all of the rest of my kids’ friends’ parents combined?

1. I love seeing the kids all together and watching them interact.

2. It’s the very best way to find out what’s really going on with your child.

3. There’s no better way to get to know your kids’ friends.

4. My kids love having sleepovers and I love seeing my kids happy.

This is just a brief moment in my kids’ lives. And it’s the compilations of brief moments like these that create many happy memories. For all of us.

Have you had the what-to-do-when-you’re-stopped-by-the-police talk?

February 20th, 2010

By Mary Rarick

Have you had the what-to-do-when-you’re-stopped-by-the-police talk with your kids? If not, I’m guessing your kids are white.

The unwarranted shooting of Aaron Campbell has everyone questioning whether or not  race was one of the factors. What most acknowledge, yet few openly admit, is that, sadly, it probably was.

In her article in today’s Oregonian, Nikole Hannah-Jones interviewed Rob Ingram, head of Portland’s Office of Youth Violence Program.

How embarrassing that we live in a society where parents have to explain to their young children that because for no reason other than the color of their skin they will be stopped by the police–it’s not a question of if but when, on average once a week.

What are we going to do about it?

Turning the Tables: Advice for Dr. Phil and Dr. Oz

February 20th, 2010

By Mary Rarick

I watched Dr. Oz for the first time yesterday, and I was disappointed. The same way I’ve been disappointed by Dr. Phil when he got his own show.

Liked them on Oprah. Don’t like them on their own shows. So what changed?

1. Both feel contrived. Neither host appears to be himself on his show. And they certainly don’t look comfortable doing some of the things they’re doing. When they’re not comfortable on the air we’re not comfortable watching.

2. They’re both gimmicky. Last time I watched Dr. Phil, and I admit it’s been awhile, he had a “house” where couples could sign up to live, similar to the Big Brother house. They were the put in contrived pressure cooker situations and “treated.” Yesterday on Dr. Oz, they set up a checkout line on the stage and humiliated predetermined audience members by having them line up and present “bad” food for evaluation. Too staged. Not buyin’ it.

What do they need to do to “get out of the ditch”? My advice:

1. Remember what made American housewives fall in love with you in the first place: Offer sincere advice in a compassionate manner.

2. Be yourself. We like you.

3. Lose the gimmicks. You don’t need them. You’re better than that.

Skipping a Beat: Teaching my son to play hooky

February 19th, 2010

By Tammy Ellingson

A few weeks ago I taught my son how to play hooky – it needed to be done.  Before everyone gets all overly responsible and moral on me, it wasn’t a full day of hooky, and it wasn’t like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or anything; after all he’s only eight. He went to school in the morning as did I. After I was done teaching, I stopped in to say good-bye and from the door I could see my kid was pooped.  By pooped, I mean he was dog T-I-R-E-D.

So I did what any red-blooded renegade mom would do, I asked him if he wanted to come home with me.  He stared at me for a long while as if he wasn’t sure he heard me correctly.  I asked again.  He stuttered a moment and then said, “But mom, I have school all day.  Don’t I?”  Well duh, I thought to myself and for a split second I contemplated withdrawing my offer, but truthfully I wanted him to rest and enjoy a bit of one-on-one down time – something we don’t get often.

I surprised myself by what I did next – it was either a cowardly thing, or a good thing, depending on how you look at it.  I told him it was up to him – he could come home with me, have some hot chocolate, watch a movie and play a game, or he could stay at school – his choice.  Okay, so I may have stacked the deck a wee bit.  This is why I was not prepared to hear my eight year old do what he did next.  He looked over the day’s schedule on the board, talked through what he would be missing and decided whether it was something he needed to do that day, or if it could wait (really – I should take lessons from this kid – I still can’t talk myself through a day like that). And then, he said, “I think it will be okay for me to leave – should I ask my teacher?”

Hmmm.  Good question. Nope – not necessary to ask son – we will tell her because (and I guess this tidbit was new information to him) as his parent, I can make that decision and check him out of school for the day if I need to – even if he doesn’t have a dentist appointment.  Whoa…………what a revelation!  I know…………I nodded my head, winked and said “I think we need a mental health day.” Of course, he didn’t know exactly what I meant, so I whisked him out of the room, checked him out at the office and we drove away.

While in the car I explained that every now and then, when you’ve been working really hard, you need a break and you can’t always wait for the world to slow down and give you the time – sometimes you just have to grab it for yourself. It’s good self-care to take a break before you start to breakdown, and rest is just as important, more so sometimes, than homework.

I didn’t learn about mental health days until I was in college – way too late considering my busy life before college.  But I vividly remember the day one professor told us that once in a while, we would come to class only to find an empty room and “mental health day” written on the board.  He said we would never know when it would happen, and if we skipped class on our own, we would lose out on the gift of unexpected free time.  It was a gimmick I know, but it worked.  The mere possibility of getting to class and stumbling upon a little bit of freedom was enough to get me to class regularly.  The first day it happened I swear my heart skipped a beat.  I didn’t know what to do with the time – which, I’ve since learned, is exactly the point of a mental health day.

It’s not a day to catch up on housework, to organize your desk, to go through bills, or do anything you think you should do.  It’s a day to do nothing, or do those fun things you always promise yourself you will do when you are done with your ‘shoulds’ – the less productive; the better.

Yes, I know school is important.  I’m a teacher – I get that.  However education doesn’t only take place in a classroom, and there is nothing my son could’ve learned in school on that day that would’ve been more important than learning to listen to his body (and yes his mom too) and learn how to take a break.

After a day of cuddling on the couch, watching cartoons, eating popcorn, drinking cocoa and just hanging out together, he was ready for a good night’s sleep and back on track the next day.  It should hold him for a while.

However, I think he’s hooked – on mental health that is.