Triangle Mamas

The Little Things

by Cyndi

When my first-born was about 6 weeks old, my BFF (who already had two children of her own) came up from Atlanta for a visit. In addition to offering me her shoulder to cry on (who knew motherhood was so exhausting?!) and her wonderful, wise company, she also gave me a most important gift -- she taught me the importance of knowing the best to places to shop when you have a nursing baby.

While she was in town, we went to the mall -- I'm not much of a mall-shopper, but I was desperate to learn how to leave my house with the new baby without having a total meltdown (and I mean, me melting down, not the baby). Together, we figured out which department stores had bathrooms with a lounge area and which shops didn't give the stink-eye when we sat in the changing rooms for a baby snack. Those stores quickly became the only places I went when I needed to shop in those early, scary, newborn months.

As Junius got older and we added Pippi to the mix, my needs have changed over time -- these days I don't worry about a place to nurse, but I am always on the lookout for shops with family-friendly bathrooms. With one child in diapers and one potty-trained, we need a little of everything on a good potty break.

Today, while having a much-needed lunch with a friend, I discovered an impressive little family touch in the ladies' room at Bruegger's Bagels in Ridge Road Shopping Center -- the "invisible" potty seat. It's one of those three part toilet seats with a regular seat, a kid-sized seat and a lid all on one hinge (see photo). It's a small change, but a big deal for a new potty-trainee whose tushie would fall through the regular-size seat. Even thought I was there sans-kiddos, I was still thrilled to see the attention to detail.

In a time when families can feel more than unwelcome in some stores (see the Michigan Target store that called the police about a breast-feeding mom earlier this month -- although to be fair, the family bathroom at the North Hills Target is always clean and easy for potty breaks), it's nice to see a business taking steps to make families comfortable.

Share your tips here -- what are your favorite family-friendly places in the Triangle?

When Cyndi isn't scoping out public restrooms, she can be found chasing her two children (ages 4.5 and almost 2) or writing at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Image from Amazon.com.

Read Locally

I'm exhausted -- but for once, it's not my children's fault. This time, I blame John and Ray. And Conker, Jolie, Si, Buck and Nel.

This cast of characters kept me up late last week -- not at a rock concert or the newest club (seriously, I should be so cool), but sitting on my own couch unable to stop reading. John is a friend from college and more famously known as John Claude Bemis, the newly-published author of The Nine-Pound Hammer. Ray is the main character in his book, the first in a trilogy that follows the orphan as he and the others embark on the story that's been occupying my late-night mind.

Inspired by his work as a teacher and a bluegrass musician, John has created a novel that blends the fantasy elements of a Harry Potter story with the landscape of American folklore. Here's the blurb from the cover:

"Twelve-year-old Ray is haunted by the strangest memories of his father, who Ray swears could speak to animals. On a quest to find out what happened to him, Ray falls in with a band of young sideshow performers traveling through the South in a rickety old train. For the first time in years, Ray feels at home.

But something strange is going on. From a locked train car, Ray hears hypnotic singing. And the performers themselves -- the strong man, the fire-eater, the blind sharp-shooter... their talents seem almost magical. Ray investigates and discovers that the old stories about John Henry and Johnny Appleseed are true in ways he never would have dreamed, that an ancient evil these characters fought is rising again, and that Ray himself may have a place in new stories only now being written."

One reviewer called it "a steampunk collision of heroes, mermaids, pirates and good old-fashioned Americana." I can't quite do it justice, although I do like the word "steampunk" -- but I can tell you that the book was hard to put down. And I think it's amazing that someone I know has written and published a real live book for middle-grade readers (which apparently includes me). 

Since John lives in Hillsborough, if you're trying to shop local this holiday season, you get a double word score if you buy his book from an independent bookseller. If you want to sample before you buy, John will be reading and making music in Charlotte on Friday, Dec. 4, and in Durham on Saturday, Dec. 5. Be sure to tell him I sent you!

Note: No compensation was offered or received from the author, his publisher or any of the stores linked here in exchange for this post. However, I am hoping that it might entice John to send me an advance copy of the second book in the series, which is due in stores next summer.

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Cyndi can also be found at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake, where she likes to list more of her favorite books for children and grown-ups.

Halloween 2009, Triangle Mamas Style

In no particular order, here are some of the adorable children of the Triangle Mamas.

This is Abigail in her mama's German dirndl from when she was two.  NIkki says, "I like to think of this as her dramatic reenactment of Gretl's 'So Long, Farewell' exit in The Sound of Music."

Here are Juni and Pip, Cyndi's little ones. Buzz Lightyear here even had "Andy" written on the bottom of his shoe. Very authentic.

What might have been a dragon on the hanger became a dinosaur on Linus. Abby's little man was rawry scary.

From our newest Triangle Mama, Kelly, whose inaugural post will be live Wednesday, we have Mr. Wyatt.

Little Bird was a Little Bear for the day. Marty and her sewing machine pulled off a handmade Halloween again this year, but only with a couple of hours to spare.

Cindy's little dino was so excited, she had the costume on in Target the day they were picking it out.

 

Ilina had a handmade Halloween too. Here is Super Deal and Ninja Bird in all their glory.

Welcome to fall, y'all. Bring on the turkeys and the trees!

The Public's Schools

I have a confession to make: As the mother of a rising kindergartner, there's a tiny part of me that hopes all the "neighborhood schools" candidates get elected to the Wake County Board of Education on Oct. 6. You see, as a mom, I'd really love for my son (and, in a few more years, my daughter) to attend the elementary school in our neighborhood.

What's not to love? We could walk to school in 20 minutes, joining with our friends along the way to form a daily elementary school parade. He would be in school with kids he knows, whose parents I know. He'd be at a "good" school that's safe, familiar, stable and on a traditional calendar. Norman Rockwell himself would probably want to paint a picture of it all.

Even before I became a mom, I couldn't fault the parents who complain about (and then form yet another group to fight) annual reassignments that resulted in instability, uncertainty and sometimes long drives for families around the county. Now that I am a mom, I understand their concerns in a whole new way.

But I know too much. I am more than a mom -- a former teacher, a public education advocate, a citizen, a taxpayer -- and I cannot in good conscience support an approach that will lead to the re-segregation of schools, no matter how lovely my personal scenario might seem through the eyes of motherhood.

As a parent, my job is to do what is in the best interest of my own child. But the teachers, administrators and elected officials in our community? Their job is to do what is in the best interest of ALL children, regardless of what neighborhood they live in or who their parents are.

There are plenty of arguments on all sides of the debate around "supporting diverse schools" or "supporting neighborhood schools" (which aren't mutually exclusive in theory, but generally are opposites in practice). I don't have the time or energy or clarity of thought to wade through them all. But here are few things that, from research and personal experience, I know to be true:

• Schools with high concentrations of poverty have a harder time being successful than schools with fewer low-income students. It's not some kind of hogwash about having poor kids sit next to rich kids so they can learn better. It's simply that students living in poverty, no matter how smart they are, come with additional challenges (like being hungry or not having adequate health care or having a single parent who can't be home much because she's working two jobs) that schools must try to address.
• Schools with high concentrations of poverty tend to have higher rates of teacher turnover because they're tougher places to teach. That usually means more teachers with less experience and a general instability within the school culture, which means that teachers suffer and students suffer. And that's all students in the school, not just the poor ones. Studies suggest that students in poor and minority schools are twice as likely to have an inexperienced teacher and are 61 percent more likely to be assigned an uncertified teacher.
• Advocates for a "neighborhood schools" approach who claim that additional funding will be given to schools in poor neighborhoods to help them overcome their challenges are full of crap. Particularly in today's world of slashed budgets, the money won't be there -- or if it does come, it won't last long. And, unless you're Geoffrey Canada in the Harlem Children's Zone, it won't be enough to make a difference.
• Wake County's diversity policy is imperfect -- and I think the district sometimes does a poor job of implementing the policy, leaving families feeling ignored and snubbed -- but maintaining integrated schools is the right goal. The district is not "out to get" anyone and derives no pleasure from disrupting parents' vision of how school should be. They are simply wrestling with making the best decisions they can in support of the nearly 140,000 students in the district.

As for the election on Oct. 6, unfortunately I don't get to vote because I don't live in one of the districts on this year's ballot. If you are eligible to vote, I certainly don't presume to tell you who to vote for and am not endorsing any candidates. But I hope that, regardless of where you live, you'll consider that, as parents, we have the luxury making decisions based on our own children. Our school districts must consider all the children at once.

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If you'd like more information the role of diversity in maintaining healthy public schools, read Making Choices, a report I co-wrote in 2003 when I worked at Wake Education Partnership, or Striking a Balance, a 2008 report from the same organization. And feel free to comment, argue, debate -- just please be polite about it.

When Cyndi climbs down from her soapbox, she can be found blogging at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Making Beautiful Music Together

When I was four years old, my mother took me to Kindermusik classes -- some of the first in the U.S. My mom then became my first piano teacher, starting me on lessons that would last through three other teachers until I graduated high school. Later, my mom became a Musikgarten teacher, singing and dancing with other moms and babies.

Given that history, and the fact that my kids really love all sorts of music and dancing, I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit that I finally took Junius and Pippi to our first music class last week. But better late than never -- all three of us had a great time singing, playing, dancing and jumping along with Ms. Angela and the nine other mommies and 12 other children. In addition to being great fun in a musical learning environment, it's also one of the few activities I could take the kids to at the same time -- not a lot of kids programs are open to both a 4-year-old and a 19-month-old.

During the class, Ms. Angela encouraged all the mommies to sing regularly to their children. "No matter what you think your voice sounds like," she said, "your children will think it's the most beautiful sound they've ever heard." I liked that advice and decided this was a good time to stop listening to NPR in the car and start singing along with our new Music Together CD.

So on our way to Nanna and PopPop's house last week, I put in the disc -- the kids were smiling and clapping and trying to sing along. And I'm thinking what a great mommy I am that I can take them to this fun class and then sing with them in the car and how happy they must be to hear my beautiful voice.

Then Junius pipes up from the back seat. "Mommy," he says. "When you are singing...?"

And I'm waiting for him to say how much fun it is when I sing and he can sing and Pippi is learning to sing and how much he loves me...

"Mommy, when you are singing," he says, "I can't hear the music. Mommy, please don't sing."

His comment left me speechless, thus having the desired effect.

I'm just hoping he won't complain when I start singing even louder in class this week.

When Cyndi isn't offending her son by trying to sing with Music Together, she and her kids like to rock out with Big Bang Boom, They Might Be Giants and Barenaked Ladies. She can also be found writing at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Pizza Nostalgia

Even though Thomas Wolfe, himself a Tar Heel, said you can't go home again, I always like to try anyway when it comes to Chapel Hill. I spent four years there as an undergrad, then returned five years later for graduate school.

Over the years, one restaurant retained my unfailing loyalty:
Pepper's Pizza.

A couple weeks ago I had a work-related meeting in Chapel Hill, so I took the opportunity to head to the Hill early and treat myself to lunch at Pepper's. It's been a few years since I had eaten there, and I knew that the restaurant had changed locations, moving up Franklin Street a few spaces from its original site (shown here). I was nervous, hopeful, a little skeptical -- but I needed to know if it was still My Pepper's.

As I enjoyed my lunch (my "usual": diet coke, side salad no peppers no onions with ranch dressing, and a slice with zucchini and feta) which was thank goodness exactly wonderfully like it had always been, I had to laugh about how much things have changed.

Of course, the space is new -- much brighter and less grunge than the old space, with four televisions mounted on the walls. The wait staff still looked college-town-quirky, but none of the employees had multi-colored hair, large tattoos or excessive piercings. And even the music was different -- instead of head-banging alternative noise, I actually heard "Walking on Sunshine" (although, to be fair, that is one of my all-time favorite songs -- seriously, click the link and thank me later for putting that feel-good tune in your head and a skip in your step).

But what had really changed? Me.

Instead of walking up to Franklin from class or the dorm with a group of friends, I drove to the parking garage and ate alone with a magazine (and enjoyed it! how else would I get to read The New Yorker in peace?). Instead of wearing jeans and a t-shirt with birks, I was in suit trousers, dressy top, pearls and heels -- professional attire for my meeting, of course. After lunch, when the waitress shooed me back to my table (apparently you don't pay at the counter in Fancy Pepper's), I handed her my AmEx card instead of a wad of change and bills out of the pocket on my backpack.

But the salad was still the right balance of lettuce, tomatoes and mozzarella with just the right amount of dressing. And the pizza still has that perfect-not-too-thick-not-too-thin crust with just enough sauce, thinly sliced veggies and salty feta cheese. And the diet coke, refilled at exactly the right moment, still comes with that delightful pebbly ice.

So I decided I'm okay with the changes at Pepper's because the food is what matters most. And I'm more than okay with the changes in me because it's a good life I've got here -- even if I did look a bit dorky at lunch.

Cross-posted at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. When Cyndi isn't eating in Chapel Hill, she likes her pizza from Lilly's or Moonlight.

An Open Letter to a Tree

Dear New Pine Tree at the Koka Booth Amphitheater in Cary,

Congratulations on growing up in North Carolina, where you will be revered as an official state symbol. Nice work!

However, while I fully respect your right to live and grow and enhance the environment of the old North State, I question your specific location for putting down roots. Although it may not have been your personal choice, I hope you can understand my frustration.

Earlier this summer, my husband and I brought our almost-4-year-old son with us to see Cirque de la Symphonie. It was a fantastic show for the whole family, combining beautiful symphony music with spectacular acrobatics and circus performers -- but then, you already knew that since you had a much better view of the show than we did, as we were seated behind you and could barely see through or around your lovely fringed branches.

Yes, I know, we didn't get there the exact second the gates opened, as it seemed everyone else must have done. And I know we could still hear our wonderful state symphony no matter the view. But we arrived more than an hour and a half before the show was scheduled to begin, so it didn't seem like too much to ask that we be able to see the acrobats, dancers and jugglers as well. Sadly, the only spaces available were those with obstructed views (see photo -- note that we cannot see the stage at all).

Perhaps you may want to talk with your arbor crew about why they would intentionally plant a young, short and very full pine tree in the middle of the seating area? Seems like it's going to be a decade or more before you are tall enough to provide any noticeable shade without boxing out scores of people behind you. Not to mention that they planted you right between two other (much taller) pines, so I expect you're going to feel a bit crowded as you get older. Really, I'm only thinking of you.

I promise I am not opposed to trees, in fact I think they're quite lovely. And I'm not even opposed to trees at an amphitheater, provided they are tall enough that the branches don't block the view.

But seriously. It's an amphitheater. Why go out of your way to prevent guests from seeing the very stage they paid money to see?

Sincerely,
Cyndi

P.S. Very sorry about your 14 friends that were recently removed from my yard. It's nothing personal, I promise. I just really like an open view.

An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't complaining about nature or hiring lumberjacks, she can be found blogging about all sorts of non-tree-related things at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

Good Neighbors Are Worth Their Weight in Ice Cream

The following essay was my entry for the Edy's Slow Churned Neighborhood Salute. I'm so excited to be a grand prize winner, which means I'm one of 1,500 people across the country who get to throw an ice cream party for their neighbors courtesy of Edy's. Hooray for free ice cream!

In August 2003, my husband and I bought our first house, located in the Lakemont neighborhood of Raleigh, N.C. Over the next few years, we had our first child and became good friends with our neighbors. Our neighborhood group quickly became our community support network – the people who brought dinner when you'd had a family illness, watched your kids in a pinch, offered hand-me-downs and holiday treats, donated to your causes, cheered your talents, celebrated your successes and mourned your losses.

In July 2007, we sold our house in Lakemont to move to Greensboro for a great job opportunity. We didn't want to leave Raleigh, but felt like it was the right decision for our family. Long story short, over the next 11 months, the job opportunity fell apart, we had our second child, my husband found a new job in Raleigh, we sold our house in Greensboro, moved in with my parents for two months, bought a house back in Lakemont (a few streets over from our first home) and moved back to Raleigh in June 2008. Phew.

When our friends from the neighborhood showed up in the front yard of our new house at the same time that the moving truck pulled up to the curb, we knew we'd made the right decision to return. It was an exhausting year – both emotionally and physically – but we felt that coming back to Lakemont was coming home for us, returning to our "family."

Our neighborhood isn't fancy, the houses aren't glamorous, the residents aren't making millions. But we have a wealth of community that I think is rare in a time when people are so transient and keeping up with the Joneses is more about the car you drive than about what sort of help the Joneses might need.

We’d love to host an Edy’s party to say thank you to all our friends and neighbors, new and old, and to celebrate how wonderful they are – they’re what makes Lakemont home for us.

Crossposted at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. When she's not blogging, Cyndi can be found clearing out space in her freezer for 15 quarts of ice cream. And thanks to Spry on the Wall for her comment, which led to the title of this post.

He's a Lumberjack and He's Okay, He Sleeps All Night and Works All Day

I'm not sure at what point in a person's career path one decides to become a tree removal specialist. Does your guidance counselor suggest that your propensity for strapping spikes to your boots could be useful for climbing trees? Or do you just feel that being suspended in the air with a chain saw tied to your belt sounds like fun? Or maybe it's that conquering anything outside that's 90-feet tall beats tackling a 90-page pile of paperwork inside any day.

Either way, I'm thankful that someone else takes that path (however he or she gets there), because there is no way in hell I could do it. Not that I'm in the market for a new career at the moment anyway (seeing as there's all this laundry to do and dinner to make and research reports to write), but after watching the crew from Arbor Barber Tree Service at my house on Tuesday, I'm more certain than ever that it's not the path for me.

Once I recovered from the painful shock of seeing the first of 14 pine trees get decapitated, dismembered and ground into bits, it was quite an impressive performance. Like a really loud and slightly violent assembly-line choreography with this continuous flow of tree parts moving across my yard and out into the street. Each man worked his specialty area, whether in the enormous crane or up in the trees or down on the ground. From take-down to clean-up, it was a seamless process that moved surprisingly quickly.

So now that we're a month into hurricane season, if you're looking up at those tall pine trees wobbling around your yard and wondering how much wind it would take to knock one into your living room, call over to Arbor Barber and see if they can fit you into their schedule. And if you're thinking that hurricanes (or ice storms) don't affect us here in Raleigh, ask one of your neighbors if the name "Fran" means anything to them.

An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't basking in all her newly-available sunlight (wearing SPF30, of course), she can be found blogging at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. It should also be noted that no compensation was offered or received from Arbor Barber Tree Service in exchange for this post.

Music and Movies by Moonlight

Congratulations to Jo, who won our giveaway for Animal Planet's Emergency Vets for the Nintendo DS. Thank you to all who entered!

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If you haven’t been to the North Carolina Museum of Art for an evening out, add it to your list right now. Their summer series includes a variety of movies and concerts, all performed in the open-air theater beside the museum. You can bring a picnic, buy a bottle of wine when you arrive, and enjoy a lovely evening under the stars.

My husband and I used to go there regularly before we had kids –- we even went to see all three parts of the Lord of the Rings trilogy on a Thursday, Friday and Saturday night. At the time I had no idea that going out to see a movie on three consecutive nights would soon become a crazy luxury.

Last weekend was our first time back to the amphitheater in years when we went to see Pink Martini (and opening act Sneakin’ Out ). It felt like old times in the best way –- the music was fantastic, the weather was beautiful, the picnic was tasty, the moon was full and the people-watching was highly entertaining.

Although we went without kids, we saw plenty of families with children of all ages. I was most impressed by those with new babies, strolling up and down the sidewalk trying to lull their little ones to sleep during the concert. When my firstborn was fresh, we were so overwhelmed and exhausted that we never took him out at night. It wasn’t until many months later that I realized we missed our window –- we weren’t sleeping anyway, so we should have just tucked him into the baby carrier while he was tiny and gone to every outdoor movie and concert we could find.

Now that our children are almost four and just turned one, it’s too hard on them (and us) to keep them up past their 7:30 bedtime. And since neither one of them turned out to be those kids who can fall asleep anywhere anytime, we can’t bring them along and tuck them into their blankets under the stars. I’m hopeful that will change in a few years and we’ll be able to take them to fun shows -– but for now, it’s nice to have the occasional night out without them.

Picnic with sushi and chocolate cake… $12
Two concert tickets… $40
Babysitting by the co-op… $0
Date night with my husband… priceless

An original Triangle Mamas post. When she’s not packing picnics and dressing up for date night, Cyndi can be found writing about why she wants to come back as China Forbes from Pink Martini at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.