End Of An Era, Cookie.

Posted on March 18, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

This week I had a gulp moment, that blindsided me a little. Frankly, the fact that two of my kids are grown up and mostly out the door (one is way out the door, the other still has dirty laundry in his closet, AKA foot in the door), and my youngest will be a senior in high school next year, is not surprising anymore. There are still moments that sting, or are a little unexpected, but mostly I get it. I get it. It’s still an adjustment, but I’m not struggling to figure out what’s the what. Well… until I went to buy girl scout cookies.

About 1/6 of our stash...

About 1/6 of our stash…

Yep, those annual treats that appear at the entrance to every grocery store, business, or  mall, all over town. Cute little girl scouts calling out to me as I walk by, and I’m as sucker for Thin Mints, Samoas, and Tresfoils… Well actually, that’s the problem: I don’t actually eat them. My kids do. My kids… did. Middle Man loves them, so I’ve sent them to him at school, and stored them away for when he comes home. I buy the Thin Mints and stock our freezer; they last forever, and are best frozen anyway!  Little Man loves them too, but isn’t quite as gung ho as his big brother. Bottom line though, is that I buy piles of cookies each year for Smart Guy and my boys (Prinicipessa is Gluten Free).

But there I stood, counting out boxes, when I suddenly realized I’d have to ship these babies to China. Last week when I sent a letter to Middle Man, standard postage (2+weeks) was $1.47. I was told that if I’d like to send it Priority, to get it there in 7-10 days, it would be $24. Hello? What the hell would a couple boxes of cookies cost me! It was too late, those sweet little girl scouts were all pumped up and excited that this lady was buying (gulp) 24 boxes of cookies (Look, we freeze them!). I couldn’t exactly put them back.

“Wow, you’re our best customer!” One of the little doe eyed sweeties, with a sash exclaimed. Yep, I’ve made a lot of girl scouts happy, at cookie time. They all hopped around, counting boxes, totaling the purchase, looking adorable. And then one of them looked at me, with a sweet little face and said: “What happened to all of your other girl scouts?” Three little faces watched me; the mom who was manning the cookie table with them, smiling and waiting for an answer… and I choked. I actually choked right up. I thought of my daughter and her friends, I thought of my friends’ daughters over the years, my niece, and my cousin’s kids, and I got all blurry eyed. Um, all my favorite girl scouts grew up, and don’t sell cookies anymore, I managed to say.  The other mom looked at me, sympathetically, and the girls handed me my big box of cookies. “We can be your girl scouts,” the smallest one said. Ok, see you next year! I smiled, took my cookies and left.

As I drove away, it really hit me. Not only are my kids grown, so many of the kids I’ve been involved with, that I’ve loved, have grown up. No little girls calling me to buy cookies. No kids trying to sell me magazines at the annual middle school fundraiser. They’ve all grown up. The little kids I know now, are really little… and belong to much younger friends, who could practically be my kids! Realistically, it’s quite likely that the next real bond I have with a girl scout, will be with my own grandchildren. Shudder.

This aging thing is tough business. It’s not bad enough that when I look in the mirror each day, I hardly recognize myself, or that my knees hurt. It’s not bad enough that almost all of the kids I’ve thought of as cute and little for so long, are in at least Middle School, if not high school. It’s not bad enough that I have 24 boxes of Girl Scout cookies and I’m avoiding carbs! It’s not bad enough that two of my kids are thousands of miles and several time zones away. Individually, none of these things would do me in. None of them is bad enough on their own, but all together, it adds up to one big, fat sucky dose of reality. Thank goodness Girl Scout cookie time is almost over. I can’t deal with all those cute, little cookie monsters right now.

As I adjust to all these changes, and the constant reminders of them, it’s all about baby steps. Some days are good, some days not so much. For now, I’ll freeze some; maybe I’ll eat a few of them, and I’ll be in better shape next year to deal with all of it… cookie.

Do you like Girl Scout Cookies? What’s your favorite, and why? Got a favorite Girl Scout, who knocks on your door each year? Or have all your Girl Scouts grown up too? Leave a comment; hit the Like; bring it on.

Posted in Aging, Awareness, Blog, Daily Observations, Honest observations on many things, Humor, Life, Mothers, Musings, My world, Parenting, Personal change, Tales From the Motherland, Women, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments

Awards, Challenges and an Announcement

Posted on March 13, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

At writing group this week, the writing prompt was “If you could change one thing about the way you were raised, what would you change?”  We are given 5 minutes to write a response.  The Writing Goddesses in my group said: “There’s a blog post.” So here it is, the challenge part, with a few small edits. Not easy to put it out there, but this stuff is real.

If I could change one thing about the way I was raised, I would ask to be raised.  I feel like I grew from a young child to an adult with plenty of adults watching, guessing, figuring it out—plenty of adults judging—but none of them really raising me.  I wish I’d had solid, caring adults around me whose purpose was to be there for me, to guide me, to make sure I knew what the road ahead could be like. In a perfect world, my father would not have been killed so early in my life, but then someone would have been there to say that scary things don’t really lurk around every corner. “There, there, it will be ok,” they would have whispered to my terrified self. Someone would have made sure that consistency was real: that meals together, stories and baths, and family adventures were the routine, and that routines could be counted on, not wished for.

There was no sense that someone was steering the ship—that lifeboats were available and equipped, and that someone would make sure I didn’t end up in mean icy water, alone, when the ship went down. ‘Cause our ship was the Titanic… with icebergs all around… and not enough life jackets… and no Captain.

I’d wish for a solid, caring adult there to tell me I was smart enough, pretty enough, talented enough—Enough.  I’d like someone to have raised me to know that I was enough, just as I was, or am.  My aunt recently told me: “You are from good, strong stock.” Oh, to have heard that when I was ten.

What would you change about how you were raised? Anything? Everything? Share a though; leave a comment; I love it!  Hit like, because I’m an insecure, needy gal, who loves that. And again, thanks for all the good stuff folks.

Part Two, The Award:

Borrowed from Duck

Borrowed from Duck

Thank you so much to Sarah (AKA: The Laughing Duck) over at Cackles.From.A.Mad.Duck for giving me the Liebster award.  You should check her blog out, because it’s witty, alternative and very clever. If you have daughters, who are in high school, they could probably get some inspiration from this chick (yo, pun); cause she’s the real deal.

Technically, it’s a nomination, and I am meant to then nominate others. Alas, while my fellow nominees are terribly talented, I really want this all to myself! I want to win. Having done it a few times now, I don’t have too many fresh suggestions, and answering questions about myself seems redundant, since you’re reading my blog. It’s all here. The deal is that I tell you a few things about myself, I recommend some other bloggers. They do the same and put a link back to my blog. We all feel good, and you get to check out some other wonderful writers. I don’t have much more to say about myself, but I’ll play fair and give the basics, following The Duck’s lead. Here goes:

Music: Well, that might be old for some of you. I’ve written an awful lot about music. Hell, my novel is all about music too! Check out this, and this, and this. There are standards, people/groups I never tire of:  I’ve been listening to Stevie Nicks’ Edge of 17 (it pursues me on the radio), The Cure (forever), Peter Gabriel (longer than forever), Crowded House. But lately, I am totally in love with Metric, The Lumineers, Pink, Of Monsters and Men (the whole CD rocks), and found

Leisure:  Lunch with friends- anytime. Writing. Movies. Hiking. Sailing. Skiing, but not this year: ouchy knee. Travel- the more challenging the better. Singing. Fine dining. Or good food.

Love interest: My kids, Smart Guy

And now to pass it one. Ok, I hate this part. I don’t want anyone to feel like I picked one and not another, but that’s part of this gig. These pare blogs that I read, that I haven’t recommended in the past. Check out these blogs:  A Gripping Life (Lisa is full of wisdom); Rebecca Kilbreath (edgy, sharp, and funny- in an edgy, dark kind of way); Applecore (has nothing to do with apples and everything to do with travel, and living places for 6 months- coolio!);  Hot Pink Underwear (not as sexy as it sounds, but I love this woman!); JeanDayFriday (her name is not Jean, but love how she thinks and what she writes); and Smells Good, Feels Good (this Aussie chick is so cool. Her life is so interesting- I want to swim in her swimming hole, but she’s centered and interesting).

An announcement:  I plan to cut back on blogging. Probably 2x a week. I need to clear my head and figure out what I want from this. I need to work on the novel. I need to do that! I need to work out some things that are bothering me with this blog world and how it effects my writing. Thanks for the kind, generous support from those of you who take the time to read what I write. I work hard at it, and I appreciate the feedback and support. I honestly appreciate that people take time to read what I put out there. No more deadlines; I’ll write when I write.

 

Posted in Awareness, Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Death of parent, Honest observations on many things, Life, Music, Musings, My world, Parenting, Tales From the Motherland, Women, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 27 Comments

He Says, She Says…

Posted on March 11, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

Note: This is fiction. Or mostly fiction. Well, the names and places have been changed to protect the people who wish I would write fiction. It’s also an indelicate subject in places. If you can’t handle suffering, don’t read on. If you don’t like colonoscopies, definitely skip this. If you think TMI is always better left out, go read Ladies Home Journal. If you’re a man, well, it’s fiction.

commonsenseevaluation.com

commonsenseevaluation.com

It’s interesting the way men and women experience things so differently… particularly when it comes to “suffering.”  If, say, Dad or Mom needs a colonoscopy—something that moms and dads of a certain age start needing, there will be details to work out. Dad will schedule a date, that works with his calendar. He doesn’t check her calendar; he knows Mom will drive  him to the procedure. It’s understood that she wants to be available for that. The fact that she has a few things on the calendar that day, is adjustable. When Mom needs the same procedure, she will check her calendar, knowing that one of her friends (another mom) will drive her there. In fairness, Dad will be working; he doesn’t need to  worry about how mom will get there or home— she’s got it covered.

Two days before, the “prep” begins: clear liquids. Mom picks up supplies for dad. “Could you maybe make some Jello?” Dad asks, nicely.  “Not red or purple; it has to be another color… um, maybe yellow?” A reasonable question. When it’s her turn, ; Mom picks up supplies for herself. When mom’s on clear liquids, “What’s for dinner?” Dad asks. It’s a reasonable question as well… one that’s asked every day of the year— except on vacation. Then it changes to “What do you think we should do for dinner?”

The night before there is really yucky liquids to drink. It’s not fun; both moms and dads agree on that point. There is mutual compassion and empathy expressed, where Golytle is concerned. Dad will gag a lot, and bellow exclaim “This stuff is “horrible!” There will be much whining misery expressed, as Dad lets everyone know, that “this is the most unbearable thing” to go through. Mom will think: Hmm, labor was pretty rough too. Mom and kids will eat out— a quick meal, so as not to leave dad alone too long, but to avoid eating in front of him… while he suffers. When mom has her prep, she’ll make a simple dinner for dad and kids, and sit at the table, so as not to leave them alone too long. “Oh, isn’t your colonoscopy tomorrow?” Dad asks, as Mom stirs her prep juice.

The day of the procedure also differs for men and women. Dad schedules his for mid-day. No need to get up early; he’s taken the day off, to rest afterwards.  Mom schedules her procedure for first thing in the morning; kids will need picking up come 4pm. Getting there involves some arranging. Girlfriends don’t let girlfriends drive themselves to colonoscopies, so another mom will take Mom to her procedure. Girlfriend dutifully come into the doctor’s office, get the times straight, and then give Mom a nice pat on the back— if she’s a really good friend, a pat and a clever joke. Mom will go back to the pre-op area and wait to get her drugs. It’s a forced nap; she’s ready.  For Dad’s big day, Mom will come into the doctor’s office and sit. And sit. And then sit some more. There are a lot of good things to catch up on in the latest car magazine, or the two year old issue of Oprah— pre-retirement, Oprah was still everywhere. In medical offices, she marches on, empowering women. Mom will hold Dad’s hand as he gets his IV, and then slip away when he begins to drift off. She’s dog eared the article about Jump Starting Your Immune System.

image: Anne Taintor

image: Anne Taintor

In recovery the cubicles with men, all (and I do mean all) have a woman sitting by the bedside. The passing of male gas (the after effect of a colonoscopy, male or female) requires some back patting, hand holding, and a woman’s presence. “Ok, take it easy. Just pull your knees up… good job.” In the cubicles where women are recovering, almost all of them (and I do mean almost all. One older woman’s husband sits, holding her hand) lie alone, eyes closed and looking stoically uncomfortable— hoping to not draw too much attention.  “I’m fine; you don’t need to keep checking,” one woman tells the nurse. The nurse smiles, as Dad groans in agony. He is going to live? I mean, it’s only gas, right? Mom chides asks, laughing worried.  Is it always like this? She asks. “Yep, men and women do it a little differently…” the nurse smiles again, and heads out of the cubicle. Dad needs help getting dressed; he’s still shaky. “I’ll wait outside, give you your privacy,” Dad says when it’s Mom’s turn. Dads are very thoughtful that way.

When Mom’s all done, friends come back and pick her up. They joke; they laugh. “Now I’ve seen your bum,” they giggle. Give me a minute, I’ll be right out, Mom says. The friend is waiting to help her out to the car; Mom’s still a bit loopy too. This crosses the sexes. Drugs are drugs. At home, Mom gets out of the car and heads into the house. Thanks a million! She tells her friend, and sends her on her way, grateful for good friends.  She goes inside, makes some toast, and lies down to watch recorded episodes of stupid TV, and naps.

Let me get the door, Mom says to Dad as he lies back in the car seat. She comes around the car to help him out, as he struggles with the door knob. He leans a bit as they walk in. He settles on the sofa, and Mom tries to sneak out of the room. It’s just gas, he won’t die, she thinks, as she heads for the stairs. “Could you please make me some toast?” He asks, his voice thin and weak. “Maybe some water… or tea.” Mom starts out of the room again to make toast. “Uh, could you hand me a blanket on your way out? I’m freezing,” Dad whispers. She grabs the throw, and he turns on How It’s Made. He’s napping when Mom comes back with the toast.

simplyblissliving.com

simplyblissliving.com

Colds are a very complicated issue with the sexes. For some ancient reason, that is scientifically beyond this writer, colds seem to hit men much harder than women. Headache and runny nose kicks in on Wednesday for Mom. She runs a few errands and then takes the middle part of the day off. “What’s for dinner Mom?” Little Man The son ask. I don’t know; I don’t feel so great… Mom’s on the sofa, watching Bravo, shivering. When Dad gets home, same question: “What’s for dinner?” “Mom’s sick,” boy pipes up. “Oh, I’m sorry… let’s have something easy.” Dad goes to his office to do some work, and 45 minutes later, Mom puts spaghetti on the table. Easy dinner. My throat is killing me; I can’t tell, but I think I have a fever, Mom repeats over dinner. Mom goes to bed early.

news.com.au

news.com.au

Three days later, Dad has the same a bug. “I’m really sick,” he tells Mom when she gets home. Really? What’s up? “I’ve got the most horrible sore throat and headache.”  I’m sorry, Mom soothes, as she put the grocery bags down. “My head is killing me.”  Yeah, Sounds like the bug I had last week. “No, I’m really sick.” Uh, yeah, I know; it sucks. I felt awful. She tells him, as they head downstairs. Dad lies down on the sofa and wraps himself in blankets, shaking violently. “No, I think I really have something bad. This may be the flu.” As Mom shifts on the other chair, she reigns in her voice: Right; I know; I felt horrible. “Yeah, but you still did things. If you had this, you wouldn’t have been able to do anything. This is really bad…Could you get me some Tylenol?” Riiiiight. Poor little bunny, Mom mocks says as she goes upstairs. (Watch this video, to understand what rabbits have to do with the man cold.)

With other injuries and hardships, roles shift and change. If Dad falls while mountain biking or doing something athletic, he is stoic and calm. Scabs down his legs and knuckles go uncommented on, while Mom winges and whines tells Dad about the deep paper cut she got earlier in the day. It really burns, she says again and again notes, as she makes dinner. When Dad looks at the gauge cut there might be a slight roll of the eyes, but he’s smart enough to say “That sounds painful.” No complaints about his own wounds, to his credit. Mom gets a wave of woozy when she looks at Dad’s raw knuckles. Doesn’t that hurt?  “A little,” he answers, distracted by dinner. Mom nurses her paper cut for a few days.

Men and women are wired differently. Not all men are big babies more sensitive to illness or pain issues, and not all women are more stoic. Not all moms cook all of the meals, and not all dads whine. Maybe this fictional Mom doesn’t even do all of the cooking, and this fictional Dad doesn’t necessarily whine all this much. Maybe he does. But, where there’s smoke, there generally a BBQ, at least. The man cold didn’t come out of nowhere, right? And when you Google images of  “men sick” or “women sick,” the images are very different! Interesting…

Do you suffer well? Are you stoic? Are you a woman? Or are you a baby man? Share your thoughts in the comment section, and if this helped inform you, or made you laugh out loud, please hit like.

Posted in Aging, Awareness, Blogging, blogs, Daily Observations, Honest observations on many things, Humor, Life, Mothers, Musings, My world, Sarcasm, Tales From the Motherland, Women, Women's issues, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

The Middle: Teens, Are You In?

Posted on March 6, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau
image: from the internet

image: from the internet

I’ve been thinking a lot about the pressures on modern teens: to be “All in” for everything, and make it look easy.  Back in the day, we did our school work and we maybe did a sport, or some other extra-curricular. We did it because we liked it, not because we felt like we had to. Unless you were one of the stars in a particular sport or activity, there was no pressure to do it. We participated to be a part of something.We didn’t start worrying about college applications in eighth ninth grade! We didn’t feel that if we weren’t 100% committed to each thing we did, that we would fail in the big picture. Weekends were time for friends and family, winter and spring break was a time to go away, if you were really lucky, or to hang out with your friends more.

The pressure for kids to achieve and climb begins really early these days. They compete younger, and harder. They begin believing that their worth is tied up in all those bars they must get over, long before we ever considered that possibility.  Today, teens begin thinking about AP courses from the minute they arrive at high school. Their parents start signing them up for more, more, more long before then.  As parents, we drive; we push; we cheer; we cajole. We try not to feel guilty when our kids don’t seem to love all the things they’re doing, because it’s “so important” that they do all of it, and do it well. The competition to be a good parent is only outdone by the pressure to be a super star kid. You can’t just be “in” anymore, you need to be all in.

Last night I went to “Sports night” for the umpteenth time in eight years— since my oldest started high school. I’ve heard it all. I know the rules about attending practice, the strict zero tolerance for drugs and alcohol (never gonna be an issue with Little Man), the desire for parents to step up and volunteer, and the never ending chase for the elusive varsity letter. I’m approaching the final go, with my youngest, who’s a junior this year.  This kid, my Little Guy, is one of the kindest, sweetest kids I know. He truly doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He wants to fit in; he cares what other people think; he works so hard at school, as well as Cross Country and Track, but he’s not one of the alphas. He’s not that kid who’s gonna be a the super star at either.

So he does all the other stuff. He shows up; he works hard; he does his best. He wants to make varsity, but assures me it’s “never going to happen.”  He does his best, and that is enough for me. The coaches tell us that this is enough to make varsity, and I perk up. “Your child doesn’t have to be the fastest, but they have to do their best.” Words to cheer and encourage my boy, I think as I listen. He can do that. He can work hard and do his best, and still letter. I felt relieved and happy, thinking about how to go home and help him feel good about his goals and efforts.

Then I heard something that I’ve heard before, but heard more clearly last night, and my heart sank… again. “If your kid is really serious, they’ll be here for spring break.” Ouch. The coach went on to explain that spring break is a very important time for the athletes, and not being there, says that they “aren’t really interested in being a serious athlete.” Big serious ouch. My heart dropped to my toes. I didn’t hear much else, and I left feeling discouraged for my boy, who works as hard as he can. But the message was clear: We’re not all in.

We’re not going to be here for spring break. We’re going where the sun is. We’re spending time as a family: to laugh, and play, and rest. We’re not talking about school, or sports, or any of the other things that make our days stressful. So my kid’s chances of getting a letter just went down, down— spring break may be the deal breaker. I felt sad for him, and I felt sad for us. I heard what the coaches said, and I could see their point. I get it. They’re not repeat State Champs for no reason. But, we’re not jumping through that hoop. So my boy swallows one more bitter pill, and we try to enjoy our vacation, and not think about the consequences.

It’s no wonder that our kids are all pushed so far, and feel so much pressure. They jump through academic hoops; they jump through the “what else do you do” hoops. And it never really seems to be enough. They worry about APs, GPAs, SATs, ACTs, PRs, and how to shine in a sea of shiny, while the bar just gets higher and higher.  Some kids take it in stride, while others struggle to compete. It’s no wonder that as parents we feel guilty and stressed and pushed to help them get there. The world demands it. College admissions are tougher than ever, the competition tighter than ever.  My boy will keep working hard; he’ll do his best. I’ll do my best to not help him not buy into stuff that makes him feel like he’s not good enough. I’ll remind him that his best is enough. I’ll continue volunteering, because I believe in it. But seriously, the bar is just too fucking high. TOO. HIGH. What more people? Seriously. Where does it end?

Do you have kids on the wheel? What are your thoughts? Is it easy for your kid? Or do they struggle to keep up? How do you keep up? Or are you staying out of the fray all together? Share your thoughts. Hit like. Jump in.

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Posted in Awareness, Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Education, High School, Honest observations on many things, Mothers, Musings, My world, Parenting, Tales From the Motherland, Teens, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , | 21 Comments

This Mother’s Heart Stretches and Grows…

Posted on March 1, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau
When their world held only 10" of water...

When their world held only 10″ of water…

In the past two months, the fact that two of my three kids have flown the coop has really been settling on me. It’s happened in ripples, and kicks, and sputters and tsunami waves of emotion and adjustment, over the past couple of years. However, in the past two months, it’s really hit me that they are out there. In the world. The big, wide world. On their own.  And while the reality of that is stunning, on so many levels, it has begun to settle on me in ways I didn’t really anticipate. It is a calm and bittersweet adjustment, that is non-negotiable.

Principessa has been pushing the boundaries of the mother child gig for a while. She’s traveled to wild and wooly places, and made her father and I hold our breath for nearly 5 years now. Her senior year of high school, while she was in Africa for four months, we heard about her near drowning in the Zambezi River, days after the fact—long after she’d dried off and had a “tale she’d drink on for years” (as our good friend Ian so often says).  We learned of her near miss with a venomous snake from long distance, and waited with anxiety for details that would come by email.  Our relief that it wasn’t her was chinked by the news that it bit her tent mate instead.  Hard to feel truly relieved, while another parents child is in a hospital.  The idea that that snake was coiled beneath my girl’s tent, just waiting for them to lift up the edges, and break camp in the morning…

While she traveled in the Middle East, the first couple of times, we adjusted to the idea that she was making big decisions, that we’d always advised her on. She was making them without us, and having the time of her life: sleeping on ancient walls, sharing tea with Bedouins in tents in the desert, seeing the pyramids, learning Hebrew in The Holy City, and doing all kinds of other things, that made it clear that she was establishing her own life, away from home.

It’s been no secret that she wanted to live in Israel, and make her life there. It’s been a long, hard adjustment for her family— constantly torn between our love, our desire to have her near us, and our belief that the world is indeed her oyster, and there are pearls to be had.  I swung at every shadow in the beginning; I hated everything about her plan. But she’s always been a strong, intelligent, curious and determined person. She needs to be out in a bigger world than the one we raised her in, just as clearly as I need to be near the sea.  She has deep, strong roots and they spread wide.  She’ll finish a year of post college studies, of her choosing, this May, and as she negotiates her first salary and contract for her first real job— in Israel—and makes enormous life decisions, we have to watch from a distance of 6,700+ miles.

Her brother, Middle Man, has been an independent kid for most of his life. He’s always been adventurous and thrill-seeking.  He doesn’t panic easily, he rolls with the punches, and he seems to find experiences that could be set in a movie.  His mercurial disposition has kept us on our toes for all of his life.  After one year at a high school level boarding school in Canada, he was making his own plans and depending on us less and less for support.  When he left for China a month ago, for a semester abroad, followed by a summer internship in Taiwan, I knew that this was just the tip of his big plans iceberg.  It was only a matter of time.

He’s studying Mandarin, and living in a place that is as foreign to his father and I as I can imagine. I love to travel, I love adventure, but the idea of living in China: in a culture so different than my own, with a language so daunting that my boy’s drive to learn it is staggering to me, with a population (20 million in Beijing alone, in 2011) that is surreal—it all just boggles my mind! When I try to envision my boy there, without us, so far (5,300+ miles) from our hopes and love, it’s hard to see it in my mind’s eye. I can imagine him in his dorm, at college. I can imagine him hanging out with his friends and having his school adventures, but now he’s off in a much bigger world, and I can’t see it. I can’t see him.

If I think too much about those number: 6,700 and 5,300, or 12,000 combined— I feel a swirl of emotions and thoughts, that is impossible to concisely describe. I am excited and giddy. I am envious, curious. I am sobered. I smile; I toss and turn; I smile again. I wonder; I wish; I hope. I long, I ache, I well up.  It goes on, and on…  in and out of the hours and moments of any given day.

The “Stop, Drop and Roll,” approach that I’ve always believed in, doesn’t work when it comes to my kids. No matter how many times I envisioned how they would grow up, what it would feel like, look like, taste like… I haven’t been prepared for any of it. It just keeps coming at me, and each new development causes me to flinch. I lie in bed at night, as sleep approaches, and try to imagine what they are doing in their different time zones. Constant math: ten hours ahead for her, and sixteen hours ahead for him… or to simplify (as if simplicity is a factor): 24 hours ahead and four hours back. Math puts me to sleep each night. Longing fills my dreams.

And their dreams were of first grade.

And their dreams were of first grade.

I try to figure out what my life will be like as they build their own castles further and further from my beach.  Who will they marry? What will they do in their lives? Will they be happy? Where will I fit in?  For each thrill and smile I feel, as they have their adventures and dream their own dreams, I am also reminded of the days that have already passed, and ones still to come. The silence in the house is comforting and jarring, at the same time. The clean surfaces, where their clutter once collected, still surprises me.  Each time I think I’ve adjusted, there is something new to file in my emotional Rolodex.  E is for Empty. E is for Eager, Excited, Enormous.  C is for Children, Challenge, Care. The alphabet of my heart is filled with words that my children have taught me.  It is limitless. This mother’s heart stretches and grows a little with each step they make. It also breaks a little, in the process.

There is no Stop, Drop and Roll, in parenting. We hope for the best; we wish upon the stars.  When they go out and do what I’ve imagined… I am stunned, and utterly unprepared, because inevitably, their dreams and wishes are their own; I am no longer the captain of their ships.  My babies are a combined 12,000 miles from me and that hits me nearly every day, often at the most unexpected moments. I try not to dwell on it; the fact just sits there in the corners of my mind and in the pieces of my heart… that those two people will always own.

Posted in Adventure, Aging, Awareness, Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Israel, Life, Mothers, Musings, My world, Parenting, Personal change, Tales From the Motherland, Women, Women's issues, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

And The Award Goes To…

Posted on February 27, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

DSC_0181 - Version 2“For most tired and Oscar’ed out, Dawn at Tales From the Motherland!” Roaring applause please, and hopefully I don’t stumble on my way up to accept my statue, as Jennifer Lawrence (in Silver Linings Play Book) did, when she went to accept her Best Actress Award. Watch this hilarious interview, where she explains why she fell. I would stumble up there, and no doubt make an utter fool of myself— still hung over two days later. Let me be clear, not from the wonderful Champagne Kir Royales I drank all night, but from activity overload—brought on by three and a half full days of prep, and then full on hostessing for the big night! On Monday morning when I got out of bed, my feet actually screamed and the rest of me groaned in agreement. Man, I love Oscar, but I am getting too old to keep up!  I’m thinking I may need to do something different… who am I kidding? I love this stuff!                                                          (The food, oh the food!)

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Last year I wrote a detailed explanation of the history of my Oscar obsession (here) and my movie fixations, complete with photos of past costumes. None of that has changed: I love the night; I love almost every thing about it.  As I said in that post, I’ve been watching movies since I was a very little girl. Movies, the big Hollywood productions of my childhood: Wizard of Oz, Singing in the Rain, anything with Fred Astaire, Gone With the Wind, Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid—oh, this list goes on and on— have always been a part of my life! There are plenty of ties to my childhood in my 100 Best Movies post. The movies were my way of running off on an adventure. They swept me up and spun me around; they put me to bed, and kept me believing in magic long past when other kids were savvy enough to know better.

The movie stars and all their glam are part and parcel to this grand adventure. I read about them; I watched them at the theater, and I believed I stood a chance of being a part of that big fantasy world one day. I grew up, of course. I stopped dreaming of running off to be in movies, but I’ve never grown tired of watching them. I see as many movies each year as I can—at the theater, or at home— and I still watch with the excitement of a kid. When Life of Pi came out this year, I could not wait to see it, having loved the book. The Hunger Games: read all the books and then raced to see it the first week. I knew when I walked out that I would be Effie Trinket at my Oscar Party this year, long before the movie was over! I couldn’t wait to see Lincoln, having heard that Daniel Day Lewis knocked it out of the park. He did. We saw Beasts of the Southern Wild at home, before I’d read much about it. When it was nominated for Best Film, we all agreed that the Academy got that one right. Argo: Loved it! Little Man insisted that it was the best in the bunch, and he was spot on—but this year, it was a hard call in our house. With the exception of Zero Dark Thirty (very good but not great), we felt any one of the nominated films was deserving.

For me, Oscar night has become all about the party I have. It’s what I plan for; it’s what I work on; it’s what I fixate on, for weeks before the big night. The show: I barely watch most years. This year, I watched more than usual, and paid for that the next day—in more clean up and debris. Generally my fabulous faerie helpers do almost all of it, but this year I got caught up in the broadcast and sent them home too soon, with the ridiculous words: “No, don’t worry; I’ll get the rest…” My bad; my price to pay. The girls were fantastic and did just what I asked. I just made a fatal mistake. Two days later, I’m still cleaning. But oh the fun of sitting with our friends and cheering on the stars and the event!                        (The beautiful people: Argo; Glam; Moonlight Kingdom; Lincoln; Stacy Jaxx/Rock of Ages and Katnis Everdeen/Hunger Games)

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The show itself was a mixed bag for sure, as every entertainment site has reported. Depending on who you read, Seth McFarlane the 2013 Oscar’s host, and the writer and voice behind such culturally huge characters as Stewie Griffin, Peter Griffin, Brian the dog on Family Guy, TED (the obnoxious bear in the movie of the same name), etc., was witty and funny, or deeply offensive and one of the worst hosts ever. He certainly pushed the envelope and offended more than just Chris Brown and Rihanna.  In the song We Saw Your Boobs McFarlane put the spot light on every big (female) name in the first five rows who’s ever exposed their breasts on screen. Beyond the fact that it was cringe worthy right there, several of those “exposures” had come during rape scenes in their respective movies. Ouch. Needless to say, some did not find it funny and Tweets came flying in as fast as the ratings went up. The humor was predictably edgy, off color at times, and clever and quick other times.

Your hosts: Effie Trinket (Hunger Games) and Lincoln

Your hosts: Effie Trinket (Hunger Games) and Lincoln

Personally, under the haze of champagne and hostess buzz, the show is always a background part of the evening for me. I’m busy thinking about the food, the drinks, the flow of the event, entertaining the crowd… I’m on stage all night, and watching the show really comes the next day or two, when it’s quiet and I can really watch it all… as I recover. Despite the reviews, I found McFarlane charismatic (love that smile!), dynamic (he sings, he dances, he does voices!), and yes, offensive at times… several times, but pretty good.  That said, that’s part of what these event have become about: they seem to all be roasts, as much as award shows. Back when the big man, Bob Hope, was doing it, the jokes were kinder, gentler. Now they are cruel and hurtful. The audience laughs, then groans, unsure of what is right—surrounded by all that sparkle. It’s all too much, but in fairness, I’m not sure that should fall on Seth McFarlane. He did what he was hired to do. He brought the younger viewers, and he brought the very humor he is famous for. Had anyone from the Academy ever watched Family Guy, before hiring him? Really! If you hire Chris Rock or Seth McFarlane, you get Chris and Seth. If you hire Billy Crystal or Jon Stewart, you get Billy or Jon. Just sayin’.

The dresses were over the top; stars looked beautiful and glam. That’s what the Oscars is all about: the shine and sparkle of a year in movies. The faces seem to get tighter and less expressive every year, which stood out more this year for some reason. Plastic surgery, injections, alterations up the yin yang are nothing new, but as we all watched, it seemed the crowd at my house were constantly asking: How old is she/he? Or saying:  Oh my God, what happened to him/her! The stretched, pulled and lifted bodies and faces were just too much (Nicole, stop!). Even younger actresses are over the top now, and few of them look real.  If I’m errr, ummm, well, (just) (barely) (gulp) 50, how could that actor/actress that was a grown-up when I was a kid, be ten years younger than me now?  I kept thinking.  It was disorienting. It is really old, even if no one looks it… except perhaps Christopher Plummer, who looked just as he should for 83.

Life of Pi could hide from all that flesh

Life of Pi could hide from all that flesh

There was a ridiculous fixation on nipples and breasts (read: Nipped), as has become the trend in the past few years. Whether they were pasties or real nipples, that’s what people were talking about when it came to Ann Hathaway, instead of her lovely gown or her Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress. What’s up with that? And why do so many people hate her? While some of the breast stuff is in fact just crazy over the top, why is it such a big deal? Back in the day, women had nipples and people knew it; they didn’t go to endless lengths to pretend they aren’t there. Grow up and get over it people! Seth McFarlane, don’t sing silly songs that come right out of the mouths of 14 year old boys, alá Beavus and Butthead. I love that someone thought to turn it on its ear and sing “We Saw Your Junk.” Let’s at least level this stupid ass sexism field. Nuff said.

I can’t help it; I get off on all this stuff. I love it. I watch the movie; I read about the stars and their lives; I have a party each year to celebrate all of this plastic, fantasy, sparkly, stirring-music and pomp. I get teary eyed each year when they show the stars that have died. I love seeing the speeches and the all the glitter that goes with this big movie night. It doesn’t really get old for me, even as I throw out snarky quips and assess each scene or skit. I’ll keep going to the movies (hell, for the popcorn as well!); I’ll keep rooting for my favorites, and I’ll be putting on an Oscar shindig each year, and watching the show with friends. It’s part of who I am; good or bad.

What was your favorite movie this year? Did the Oscars thrill or chill you this year? Do you watch the show; do you go to the movies, or is this all silly stuff for you? Tell me what you think, in the comments section.

Read more:  My post last year, had a little more background and some costume photos. Read: Golden. Call Me Oscar.  My buddy Rebecca wrote a much more intellectual and sharp assessment of the Oscars, check it out: Post-Oscar Malaise…

Show some love for an aging Hollywood junky. Hit the Like. Then head over to the Tales From the Motherland Facebook page and hit the Like button. We love our fans.

 

 

 

Posted in Beauty, Blog, Blogging, blogs, Honest observations on many things, Humor, Musings, My world, News, Tales From the Motherland, Wonderful Things, Writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 21 Comments

It’s Good To Share, So I’m Sharing.

Posted on February 26, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

I generally don’t reblog posts, mine or others. I leave other people’s posts to them. However, I am in deep recovery from the Oscars and not only skipped my post yesterday, but slinked out of Friday’s too. Then I read this post, By Stephen over at LifeRevelation. I follow his blog because it is an encouraging blog that often gives me a lift. Today, it made me smile outright, and my dark circled, puffy eyes, teared up. A short, very inspiring post, until I return tomorrow. Check it out.

stephenedwards425's avatarLifeRevelation

http://newvision2012.weebly.com/-10-countries-with-female-soldiers.html

I am traveling today. Which means I was up way before the sun, shaved, showered, downed some quick breakfast, loved on the Gang of 5, kissed Susie goodbye, checked seventy three times to insure I had my passport, drove an hour to the airport, finally convinced myself to pay the extra money to park in the garage, noticed after the nearly three mile trek to check-in that I had once again packed way too much crap, and after taking off various clothing while thinking how absolutely barbaric the whole security thing is, finally made it to my gate with exactly two hours and three minutes before my flight departs.

Now what to do?

One of my favorite pass-times is to watch people and the airport is one of the very best places to do it. This morning I got to gawk at everyone from a twenty something guy wearing a pair…

View original post 209 more words

Posted in Awareness, Blog, Blogging, blogs, Daily Observations, Honest observations on many things | Tagged , , , , , | 4 Comments

Updates and Silliness…. An Extra

Posted on February 21, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau

Warning: Some distinct snark in this one. Thin skinned? Skip to the next one.

Blustery, crappy day… perfect for having my windows washed. Feh. Damn. Shit. I wait months and months, they are really bad… and it will all be undone before they finish. Did I say: Feh? Damn? Shit? Seriously! Sucks rotten eggs.

I wanted to clarify something:  my post The 100 Best Movies. Ever, from yesterday is just that, my post. My. Post. It was tongue in cheek people. It was funny. I am totally aware that no one person, no matter what their degree, how old they are, or how many movies they’ve seen, is qualified to put together a definitive list of The best movies Ever. It is the list I put together, on a recent day, trying to think of all the amazing movies that I really love.

I’ve gotten a bunch of private emails, Facebook posts, and comments on the post itself (the comments, btw were more than half the fun! Check them out), with suggestions that I missed the boat. One person suggested that I was “presumptuous” to think I could name the 100 best movies. Folks who want to remain private shall, but really people? It is fun. Fun. A list of fun. These are the 100 movies that I have seen, that pop into my head still. That increasingly foggy, blurry space, where gray matter is getting foggier by the day, that is my head. Those movies are there in the gray space, and that’s why they made the list. I love them. Many of my choices were for sentimental reasons, I admit. I’ve watched them with my kids over and over, or they make me remember a special time in my life. But isn’t that part of what makes film so magical?  We suspend reality and slip away to a magic place, when we sit in a theater, or watch at home.

Now, those of you who merely ran with my request and provided your own selections, or added ideas to the ones I’d chosen… that was the point! Everyone can make their own 100 Best Movies list. Mine is just that, mine. I loved reading my friend Rebecca’s post, which she put together after some fun back and forth in my comments. Those kind of comments make blogging fun— the back and forth, the feedback. She was clever enough to call her’s My Favorite Movies at This Moment In Time. Clever girl. Clever. Check it out; I probably should have included a few of her selections on my own list. But, it was my list. I didn’t.  I love hearing what readers thought, and what they would add or change. But, yes, it was tongue in cheek; it was not the absolute last word on movies. Except for Dances With Wolves; I stand by Dances With Wolves. Rebecca.

2/20/12 Check out all of those countries!

2/20/12 Check out all of those countries!

Harkening back to a post a few weeks ago, Hail Moldova, I’m excited to say that Moldova is not just a flash in the pan; Moldova is still with us! Who would have thunk?  I would love a comment from Moldova. What did you think about the Moldova post: did I get it right, or sorely lacking? What interests you on Tales From the Motherland? Are you from Moldova originally, or en expat? I’m very curious. Come on, throw me a tiny bone and leave a comment. That said, both yesterday and today have been very interesting days for International visits. In such a small window of time, so many cool countries! Love it.

Finally… a final word on my 100 Best Movies, I did make a few tiny adjustments. I added some that had to be added and either took out something else, or doubled up. Twofers. That said, I mostly stand by this list. I’m not adding Casablanca; I was never a fan. I know that I’ve missed Documentaries, some really great romantic comedies, film noir and lots of others. I went with what is still in my head. I stand by that. For now. This Sunday, I’ll watch the Oscars with bated breath and in costume, and maybe there will be new additions to my list… next year.

 

 

Posted in Honest observations on many things | 15 Comments

The Middle: Hail The Oscars! Here Are The 100 Best Movies. Ever.

Posted on February 20, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau
image: internet

image: internet

I was recently challenged by another blogger I follow, to put together a list of my 100 favorite movies of all time. Given that the Oscars (probably one of my favorite nights all year!) are just days away, the timing seems perfect. As a film junky however, it was hard. I thought I’d fire them off, but then had to think… a lot. The first ones were easy, say down to 30. They are not in order. The first few are definitely absolute favorites, but then the order becomes less relevant. Many on this list are special because our family enjoyed them over and over: Princess Bride (we may know every line); Hook (Love this movie); and Stand By Me, are probably three of our favorite movies of all time, collectively.

After the initial 30 or so, it started getting harder. I dug, and thought, and tried to think of all the great years of watching great films… and they came to me again. Some top favorites are further down the list than they deserve to be. When I got to 100, I suddenly started thinking of others that should be on there: Vertigo, The Pianist, The Green Mile, The 6th Sense, Atonement, Loopers (a new favorite)… Oh, I’m afraid I’d need to do a list of my top 200! Here’s the list of my 100 Favorite Movies of all time, and a short post—for a change:

1.  Dances With Wolves

2.  Stand By Me

3.  Princess Bride

4.  What’s Eating Gilbert Grape

5.  Gladiator

6.  The Wizard of Oz

7.  Singing In the Rain

8.  It’s a Wonderful Life

9.  Star Wars

10. The Empire Strikes Back

11. Return of the Jedi

12. Lawrence of Arabia

13. The Godfather

14. Sophie’s Choice

15. Intouchables

16. Incredibly Loud and Extremely Close

17. The Artist

18. Beasts of the Southern Wild

19. Pulp Fiction

20. Hook

21. Schinderler’s List

22. The Piano

23. One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest

24. Titanic

25. The Way We Were

26. True Grit (the original)

27. To Kill a Mockingbird

28. Philadelphia Story

29. Dr. Zhivago

30. Last of the Mohicans

31. About A Boy and 500 Days of Summer (twofer)

32. The Christmas Story

33. Fellowship of the Ring

34. The Two Towers

35. Return of the King

36. The Shawshank Redemption

37. ET

38. The Bridge on the River Kwai

39. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

40. The Sound of Music & Mary Poppins (another twofer)

41. Breakfast Club

42. Little Mermaid, Lion King, Beauty & the Beast (Disney night)

43. Forrest Gump

44. The Deer Hunter

45. Platoon

46. 12 Angry Men

47. Breakfast at Tiffanys

48. Simon Birch

49. Big Fish

50. Kabhi Khushi Kabhie Gham

51. Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon

52. American Beauty

53. The Snowman

54. Jurassic Park

55. Rear Window

56. Life is Beautiful

57. Toy Story

58. Amadeus

59. Cinema Paradiso

60. Braveheart

61. The Apartment

62. Midnight Express

63. Cool Hand Luke

64. Almost Famous

65. Full Metal Jacket

66. The King’s Speech

67. The Departed

68. Fargo

69. Good Will Hunting

70. Into the Wild

71. Life of Pi

72. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf

73. The Ten Commandments

74. Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory (original)

75. In the Name of the Father

76. The Harry Potter series, for sentimental reasons

77. Harold and Maude

78. Ferris Bueller’s Day Off

79. Gone with the Wind

80. The Usual Suspects

81. The Pianist

82. Au Revoir Les Enfants

83. Beauty and the Beast (Disney)

84. Gallipoli

85. Dead Man Walking

86. Deliverance

87. The English Patient

88. Fanny and Alexander

89. Monty Python

90. Gandhi

91. In The Bedroom

92. Jean De Florette

93. The Killing Fields

94. Argo

95. Little Big Man

96. Midnight Cowboy

97. Planes, Trains and Automobiles

98. The Assassination of Jesse James (by the Coward Robert Ford)

99. Taxi Driver

100. Lincoln

What would make your top 100? If you dare, put your list in my comments section; I’d love to read it. Or just tell me a few of your favorites. What you think about movies in general? Are movies just a waste of your time (be warned, I will lose respect for you)? Which movie would you definitely take off my list, and what would you add?   If you had fun reading this, or got some good ideas for movie night, hit Like. Check out Tales From the Motherland on Facebook and hit the Like. I love to be loved.

Posted in Blog, Blogging, Daily Observations, Education, Honest observations on many things, Life, Musings, Writing | Tagged , , , , | 49 Comments

Would You Take a Bullet… For Peace.

Posted on February 18, 2013 by Dawn Quyle Landau
Girl, activist, blogger, Malala Yousafzaiimage: parknews.pk

Girl, activist, blogger, Malala Yousafzai
image: parknews.pk

I’m talking about teen blogger and activist Malala Yousufzai, 14 who was gunned down this week for… going to school.  When I read the story, Wednesday, of the shooting that has left her in critical condition, from gunshot wounds to the head and neck, I was truly shaken. I remember reading about her a few years ago, when she first came into a small, but stunning spotlight. Malala is no stranger to the risks and threats of getting an education: she has been fighting the Taliban since she was 11 years old (probably before),  for the right to attend school in her small village of Mingora, in NW Pakistan.

In 2009, the Taliban had taken hold of the region, moving into the small school for girls that Malala’s father had built and run. He was determined to see young Pakistani girls get an education, his own included. In his own right, this made him a pioneer. His daughter embraced that idea early on, and was passionate about academics, saying that she wanted to be a doctor. She studied hard, and attended classes despite Taliban edicts that forbade girls to be educated. At the time, her father was threatened with beheading for sending her to school; she received death threats, and the entire family lived in fear of reprisals on a constant basis.

Later in 2009, the Pakistani military came into Swat District and pushed out the Taliban, in a battle for control of the area. After the school reopened, Yousafzai, not just content to get an education, took up the cause of Pakistani girls and their right to an education. She began blogging about the situation, an open challenge to the Taliban, despite threats to her safety.  In December 2011 she was awarded Pakistan’s first National Peace Prize, for person’s under 18. She has had schools named after her, and met with President Obama’s special representative to Pakistan, about the situation regarding girls and education in her country. This girl kicks serious butt, when it comes to courage and determination!  All in the name of something that so many kids here take for granted.

It takes true cowardice to shoot a child.Image: Huffingtonpost.co.uk

It takes true cowardice to shoot a child.
Image: Huffingtonpost.co.uk

In what I believe to be the ultimate in cowardice, Wednesday a small group of Taliban soldiers stopped the bus that Malala Yousafzai was traveling home from school on. They demanded that Malala be identified, or they promised to shoot all of the girls. When the other girls pointed her out (imagine the terror they felt), the cowards shot this 14 year old once in the head and once in the neck. Two other girls were injured as well, one critically. Thankfully the bus driver, sped away, perhaps preventing further terror.

Malala was rushed to the hospital and later air lifted to a larger military hospital in Rawalpindi. The Government is making sure that she receives intense security, as well as covering all medical costs. The Taliban immediately claimed responsibility for the attempted assassination of this child, this girl, and stated that if she survives, they will kill her later. They further maintain that they oppose Malala, and sought to carry out Islamic law/ Shariah (death), not because she wants to go to school, which they state is propaganda by the media, but because she promotes secularism and modern ideas. It is a twisted faith, in my eyes. How do these men sleep at night? How can they look at their own children and not feel enormous shame? My mind spins the news around and around. 

School girls in India, pose for my camera

School girls in India, pose for my camera

Those questions, I know, are mute. These are people who hold to values that I do not and never will understand. It is not a matter of religion, or faith, despite what they claim. It is the position of extremist religion. Much of the Islamic world stands in support of Malala, as she fights for her life; they do not celebrate her fall. Malala’s father has promised to remain in Pakistan and continue to fight for the freedom of other girls to be educated, despite what has happened to his daughter, and the increased risk to himself. “We wouldn’t leave our country if my daughter survives or not. We have an ideology that advocates peace. The Taliban cannot stop all independent voices through the force of bullets.” (International Business Times) This catches my breath.  The girls at her school have stood up to say: “Every girl in Swat is Malala. We will educate ourselves. We will win. They can’t defeat us.”  (NYTimes) This brings tears to my eyes. All around Pakistan candlelight vigils are being held, and people are showing their solidarity with this brave girl. I stand with them.

While I blog in the comfort and safety of my home, putting out posts on everything from Malala Yousafzai to our chiweenie Gracie, Malala chose to use social media and blog as a means to share her experience with the world and educate others.  Each time she posted, she knew that she risked her life. Yet, she believes that the right of girls to be educated in the world is bigger than her own singular desires. It is chilling to me. Stirring beyond words. Her posts reflect the normal fears of a girl her age (11 at the time she started), as well as far more disturbing dreams and concerns about beheadings and violence in her small district of Swat. She paints a vivid, powerful picture of her cause and her life, in the posts she’s made. While we enjoy the freedom to prattle on about whatever we think will get us noticed:  for the sake of publication, readership, blog recognition, etc, Malala’s sole purpose for writing was to bring freedom to herself and others.

While I argue with my son to study for an exam that he has, Malala has a passion, a driveto study, and has lived under the constant threat of death, to herself, her father, and her family. Each day that she attends school, she faces that threat, but chooses to do so: literally, a gun to her head. Her father has long been an activist in his own right, running a school for girls is something that put a bull’s eye on him, long before his daughter took up the cause. He believes that girls have the the right to an education, just as boys do, in a country that is fighting to overcome the rule and influence of the Taliban, which adheres to strict and (I believe) twisted interpretation of the Holy Koran.

These girls want to study. That's what Malala Yousafzai stands for.image: heraldsun.com.au

These girls want to study. That’s what Malala Yousafzai stands for.
image: heraldsun.com.au

It is impossible for my son to understand just how fortunate he is to live in a place where he is free to go to school. Where not only are the girls around him free to be there as well, they are equally likely to succeed. Taking a math test is a privilege he cannot appreciate; and I get that. I too take it for granted; most of us do. It is difficult to imagine that in other parts of the world, the most basic of freedoms are not a given. It is difficult to imagine a group of men pulling a bus over and shooting a young girl in the head, for wanting to go to school. But these things are happening and I believe we owe it Malala and all the girls like her, who struggle to be heard and treated fairly, to speak of this. To tell our own children that checking the math web site is a privilege, not just a task. While they may not get it, and they may not agree, perhaps they will stop a moment to think about those who can’t do it.

In the meantime, my sincere hopes are that this girl, Malala Yousafzai, does not become a martyr for “the cause.” That she does not need to die, for others to pay attention. I hope that she has a full recovery, and lives (safely) to study more, and become whatever she dreams of being. No doubt, her determination and convictions will serve her well as she struggles to recover. Please take a moment and leave a comment here. Share your thoughts.  Share this story with others; we should all take a minute to think about Malala Yousafzai.

Updates:  Petition from Change.org for Malala Yousafzai to be given the Nobel Peace Prize; Malala Yousafzai Nominated for Nobel Peace Prize; Video of Malala Yousafzai’s recovery (stunning!)

If you are interested in reading more about Malala Yousafzai, check out the following links:  Diary of a Pakistani School Girl (BBC); Pakistani girl airlifted to hospital (NYTimes); Pakistani teen Bloggers shooting a ‘wake-up call’… (CNN); Malala in serious condition (Today’s newspaper); Malala Yousafzai (Wikipedia); We Can Do More To Fight Gender Inequality (; My Conversations with Malala Yousafzai (Christian Science Monitor); M.Y. Portrait of The Girl Blogger (BBC); **The Malalas You’ll Never Meet(Gail Lemmon, featured on CNN); read Half The Sky, Nicholas Kristoff and Sheryl Wu Dunn; check out and consider donating to Half The Sky foundation or any organization that focuses on education for girls and women.

Posted in Activist, Awareness, Blog, Courage, Daily Observations, Education, Honest observations on many things, Life, Malala Yousafzai, Musings, Tales From the Motherland, Taliban, Women's issues | Tagged , , , , , | 16 Comments