The Crossing Guards

     We were at the park at 7:30 this morning.  They have crossing guards at every block surrounding the park, which is near a school that is open in the summer..  And they are all different.  First near Rite Aide is this tall (almost 6 feet), young black woman who is always smiling, almost laughing, as she greets you and lets you cross the street.  She wears her black hair up in a swooped cone on top of her head.  She is very regal and innocent and she seems like a kid in a candy shop.
    At another crossing a middle aged white woman, with a very plain short bob, greets you checking to see how everyone is doing.  She says in a little bit she'll be going on her break (it's now 9:20), and then she'll come back at noon, and then when the kids get out at 3.
    The third crossing guard is a young black man whose hair is braided and he has a back pack on.  He seems a little overwhelmed with the process and takes it all very seriously. He didn't smile or say a word, just came over to help us cross the street.
    At the top of the park is a young woman, thin, not smiling, just helping you cross the street and being done with it.
   It's summer and a few minutes after we arrived the fountains were on for the children to run through.  Jordan has made it a habit for several months to go out with the twins before going to work.  Of course this is after being up with Tess from 5:30 on, feeding the girls, dressing the girls, cleaning up the kitchen,etc.  By the time she goes to work she's already done a fulldays work.
  Two mothers and one father arrived at the park with their nanny.  The nannies were all black and overweight.  They stood there while the parents watched their toddlers for a few minutes before going to work. They looked embarrassed and bored.
   I watched this one very thin mother in a cute summer dress bring her 2 year old into the kids play area.  The nanny stood there as the mother ran around with the little boy.  She was about 20 pounds over weight in cut off jeans and a tee shirt. I wondered what she was thinking as she watched the mother play with her son.
   Yesterday I went with Marie to a swim party in the afternoon.  There was 12 toddlers and 9 nannies, all from "the islands" Marie said.  Six of the women were overweight and everyone sat around and watched the children get in the wading pool and play in the wet table.  There was no water or refreshments for the adults, just a wet table, a wading pool, and a sprinkler for the toddlers. I was the only white adult at this gathering, and the twins grandmother.  Normally the nannies would feel uncomfortable with me around, but I don't seem to upset them too much any more. Marie has a whole group of nannies she has "play dates" with.
   It's a whole world within a world, these few blocks surrounding the park, and in the morning you get the whole mass of humanity going to work, taking their kids to school, older people wandering the neighborhood.  In LA everyone would be in their car and in traffic.
 

The Sandbox at Cobble Hill Park, Cobble Hill Brooklyn

       It was 8:30 in the morning.  We were up and out with the Tess and Gigi in the stroller.  On our way outside we saw our new neighbor next door, a woman who seemed to be in her early forties with two girls, 3 and 5.  Monica was going into her three story brownstone they'd just purchased for 2.5 million or more. That was the asking price in the winter.  It didn't sell then, but in the spring. We said our hellos as she was taking her mother and the girls inside to check out the house.
     Monica is in investment, and  it was new buyer's excitement.  The house is an old Brownstone, three floors, the bottom floor I always have called a "basement" because the front windows are usually at ground level.  It's in the opposite side of the house, in the garden area that you have the full height of the room at the yard level.   The front of these brownstones is often four or five steps down from the street.  This brownstone they will use the "basement" as the kitchen, and dining or play room.  The main floor was two drawing rooms originally. And then the top floor is bedrooms.  It's the main floor that today many families don't know what to do with because if you eat in the "basement", what do you do on the first floor?  But Brownstones are the main single building in the better areas of Brooklyn. So everybody tries to figure out how to make the most of the space. 
     We waved goodbye and made our way towards the sandbox in Cobble Hill park.  It is a very small park, about a half a block long.    It was 8:30 in the morning and we were the first in the sandbox.  Jordan took out their buckets and two shovels and they sat down in the sand.  A few minutes later three young women in their thirties showed up with a girl 15 months and a boy 14 months.  They brought their own bucket and play tools.  "Sandbox" etiquette is something I mentioned.  Like Tess might be sitting there playing with her shovel or some other beach toy that's getting passed around and another "baby" or "young child" will come over and try to take the shovel out of their hand.  Do you let them take it, or do you say "it's Gigi's?"  What about other left over toys in the sandbox?
      We were talking about this when one of the mothers said, "there should be a blog on this!"  Well, here it is-the sandbox in Cobble Hill park, Cobble Hill, Brooklyn, NY.

The Girls Are Wild!-the Water at Carroll Gardens Park!

     Gigi and Tess are 19 months and the are  busy, busy, busy! You can't have anything out, nothing, nada.
     We went to the park yesterday and Tess wanted to stand at the water fountain for 45 minutes.  She threw a fit when Jordan took her away from it.  And they were spraying water from these fountains that the chidden run through.  Gigi got in there, shoes, clothes and got soaking wet.  SHe was shivering.  These girls sure like water.  Tess screams when we take her out of the tub.
     I'm going to LA in a week, and San Fran.  One of my other grandchildren is graduating from middle school.  Jordan says it will cost her a bunch of money while I'm gone.  I told her that must mean I'm valuable!
     Living with one another hasn't been easy.  The girls we agree on but we're two women in one household. She will point out things I've done, or said and one has to realize that a child's viewpoint on you isn't the full picture.  But its hard when they bring up stuff you can't just get away from and they have their opinion on it.  But that  is life and that is children.  The girls are simpler in that respect-at least for now!
     

Children, School, Twitter, Nudes in Chyberspace

        We went to Sidney's yesterday for Mother's day.  The twins were wild.  They are 18 months and all over the place, climbing, walking, talking, eating, grabbing.  Jordan has been very busy with work and the twins.  It is all she does.  Susan and Tom were also there as was Sylvia, Sidneys friend who recently sold her house in Cobble Hill and bought another one further out by the new Whole Foods.  The talk went to schools, Montesori, having grandparents in their 80's,  and teenagers.  Sylvia said that these two girls sent nude photos of themselves to a boy in their class on Twitter.  He was photo shopped into the photo and it went all around the school.  This is just 8th graders! It was quite a big deal the the young man wound up getting expelled. 
           Sidney has finished the remodel on her house and it putting it up for rent-15,000 a month.  She got the stairs straightened but the bannister is not up to code, it's too short.  What happened is they fixed the bannister, but had to make the spindles shorter and when you walk up the stairs you notice that your arm doesn't quite hit the right height.  Her agent, a mother from school, said that they'd have to disclose that situation.  It's not easy renting and showing a house.
           Nothing is easy, children are fragile, and we all are just trying to survive.

The Middle Classing of the Royals

I have a young friend, Sam, an actor, from the UK.  He speaks with that great English accent, and has their easy sense of humor.  I was talking about the royals and he said "Nobody pays much attention to them in the UK".
Well, that's not true here.  They are in the news every day-William, Kate, and George as they make their "royal" tour of Australia.
For patient Kate, who waited 10 years to catch William, it has payed off "in spades".
"Cinderella" got her prince, and William, what did he get?
He got a nice, modest, middle class girl who is willing to lower her dresses if the queen wants her to, he got someone who is good at, and who enjoys performing her "royal duties", and he got an extended family that does not have the dysfunctional display of Diana or Fergie.
No, the Middleton's will not mess up the holidays, will gamely go along with the hunting party, will babysit their grandson, who seem to be leading the "Queen" rather than following her orders.
On the surface they appear very compromising.  But remember, Kate was not afraid to beat her husband at sailing; Kate and Williams wedding was as much an advertisement for Pippa-(remember she was the only grown bridesmaid wearing a sexy white dress with 8 little flower girls surrounding her), as it was a celebration for Kate and William.
If Kate and William had a daughter, she would become Queen, forget the old rules, in with the new.  Baby George would only stay one night at the "palace," then he would go back to the "Middleton's" newly acquired "bigger" house for several weeks.  Forget the "nanny", Kate and her mother were going to be the "nanny".  
What has been the result of all of this?  The queen is happy, the "firm" is going splendidly, and the young couple with "Baby George" are charming the world.  Kate lowers her dresses, but still shows up in her tight jeans, her favorite blazer, and her wedgies. She has her style, her voice, and she's using it.
The Middeltons are the "perfect" commoners to dress up the royals!!!!!!!!!

Being perfect and the Olympics!

      Every four years we have the Olympics.  One Olympian, an American cross country skier lost a medal by .05 one hundredth of a second.  Four years and its over in .05 of one second.  
    The quest for perfection.  Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour.  Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
   Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals.  He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens, lose clothing the skateboarders use.  It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it.  It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.  
   He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal.  Why shouldn't he have it?  And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.  
    But the cracks are there.  He already had some problems and dropped one of his events.  His hair is shorter.  He isn't the kid any more.  He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
   The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it!  Instead of the 90's, he's at 35.  There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us.  Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
  It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control.  This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment.  No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin.  You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team.  They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
   So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone.  You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face.  In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind.  He is not a God anymore.  He comes in with a 90.  He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader.  He is in 4th place.  And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
   He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone.  He is not perfect.  And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled.  This is a people who live in a controlled state.

Pre School for 20 month old twins in Cobble Hill $100,000 a year before taxes!

     It has been more than a month since I've blogged.         I've been in a funk.  I can't decide what to do, where to go.  I am the immigrant in New York, and as I tell my daughter, not a New Yorker.
     The bloom is off the rose, the girls are bigger, and I must face my life. This is not my house, I am not really a nanny, and they are 17 months in a few days.  It is not easy for one generation to live with another one and it's still cold here.  It was around 60 yesterday afternoon, and today it's in the forties.  I find it hard to believe for the end of March that there is to be snow on Tuesday.  It's 80 in California.
     The girls are now competitive.  Tess is clinging to Jordan and she has a fit to get her way.  Gigi is much more a light to the wind.  Her little face lights up and she is constantly in motion.  Tess used to be the twin on top who didn't move and down below Gigi was constantly in motion.
     Jordan met Jamie at the park today who has 20 month old twins, Emma and Rose.  There was not the flood of parents from yesterday where you could barely walk through Carroll Gardens Park as it was 60 degrees. Today its colder, but still the parents and their little ones venture out to discover the world. A few weeks ago when Jamie was over she talked about sending Emma and Rose to the Montesori pre-school to the tune of $60,000 for the two of them for a year.  
      "I'd have to get rid of my nannie and call up the school and beg for the girls to get off the waiting list. But I'm thinking, whoa…is this what I want? $100,000 a year before taxes?  And I think, hold on now Jamie…"
     Jordan said: "I'll hire college students to come in and teach them before I'll pay those kinds of salaries. It's ridiculous."
     The girls were all busy going in different directions.  Jamie's girls pretty much wander on their own.  Tess was clinging to Jordan and Gigi was running around with a ball.

Valentines Day

     I was crying a few hours earlier.  Valentines Day has become a mixed bag for me.  My eldest son, Richard, died of a suicide on Valentines day 6 years ago.  He had four young children.  So my feelings are all over the place today.  On the one hand Jordan's girls are darling and very busy and chatty.  I just see them and I get happy.  Jordan gave me some great pants, my favorite brand. It's warmer and the snow is melting, the sun shining.
     With this weather and the 3rd floor walk up, I dream of Los Angeles.  I dream of being at the beach with the girls in Laguna.  Jordan says she's never going to LA, that it isn't a good place to raise a young girl.
      I am like the European who comes to America but then wants to be back in the mother country.  So little Italy, Ireland, Spain, etc., is recreated in NY.  I am in Brooklyn, but I think of the West Coast and quote it all the time.  By being in a new place you can see the old place much clearer-the good and the bad.
     The girls made cards for Jordan, (they marked it with a marker Munroe stuck in her mouth).  And we made flour-salt balls to make molds of their hand.  It was quite a mess- Munroe squeezed her hand together twice in the flour-salt mixture, stuck some of the paste in her mouth and hated it.  I got Matisse's pretty easily, she let me push her hand into the mixture.  But then she screamed like a stuffed pig when I took it away.

Putin and Shawn White and the "wanting"

   Every four years we have the Olympics.  One Olympian, Kikkan Randall, an American cross country skier, lost going into the finals by .05 one hundredth of a second.  Four years and its over in .05 one hundredth of a second.  
    The quest for perfection.  Bode Miller flying down the hill at 90 miles an hour.  Just driving 90 miles an hour is scary but your body being the car! What if you crash?
   Last night Shawn White blew his 3rd gold medal away in the finals.  He had always looked so young, so carefree with his long hair, easy smile, the mittens,  and lose clothing. It was a new sport and Shawn White embodied it.  It seemed so easy for him, it just came-the flips, turns, tricks.  
   He was all over the Olympics-Shawn White returning for his 3rd gold medal.  Why shouldn't he have it?  And it looked like it was his for the taking going into the finals, he was leading the pack with scores around 92.  
    But the cracks were there.  He already had some problems and dropped one of his events.  His hair is shorter.  He isn't the kid any more.  He seems to want it with an intensity that is no longer casual.
   The wanting-oh not to want, and not to know. 1st run of the finals and Shawn White is not only human, he blows it!  Instead of the 90's, he's at 35.  There's no room for greatness and nonchalance, the wanting compromises us.  Now beneath the helmet and the stars and stripes scarf, Shawn White wants the way Putin wants these games to establish Russia as a great country.
  It's not the case of talent erupting from a country, but the want of fear and control.  This is Putins baby, but not a baby he lets have a natural, open, loving environment.  No, this baby must be perfect and do it right lest the baby embarrass Putin.  You see it in the fake way Putin congratulates the Russian ice team.  They are in fear of this man, but it looks like awe.
   So Shawn White wants to do a great run but you know the pressure is too much even before he's gone.  You can feel the tension beneath the helmet and scarf covering his face.  In order to pull off a great run, you can't be in fear and control. It will contract your body, box in your mind.  He is not a God anymore.  He comes in with a 90.  He is 2 1/2 points beneath the leader.  He is in 4th place.  And a few days earlier he'd dropped out of another competition wanting to "concentrate" on this one.
   He tries to brush it off, it wasn't his day, but the innocence is gone.  He is not perfect.  And Putins Olympics, for their 70 billion dollar price tag, feel stiff, nervous, controlled.  This is a people who live in a controlled state.  You can feel it through the TV.

I Hate TEXTING!

   I am sick of all the texting and emailing.  Yes, it's good if you are in a meeting or a class, or you need to send a quick message. But as a regular means of communication-forget it.
Nobody wants to talk on the phone anymore. Everyone is into control and texting is a form of control. There is no voice intonation, no emotions, no responding to what the other person says.
     I remember when my eldest son, who was into the high tech world of silicon valley, converted his voice to text.  You would call to leave a message and it would say:"VOX is converting your voice to text!"  I would get so mad and leave him all my opinions on the phone.  Of course when it was converted to text,  all of my emotion was erased and I was white washed.   This avoidance of talking on the phone leaves so many relationships half empty.  All these texts back and forth-why?
     It seems like people are reluctant to communicate, to be vulnerable and uncomfortable with feelings. My brother said a recent study was done on college students and their ability to communicate is down 40%.  He said theres kids sitting right across from one another texting instead of talking.  I just can't stand it.
   And I got a new phone because my old one died and now I can hardly text because its a touch point whereas before I had a keyboard and I could really type on it. Now it repeats letters several times, skips, puts in the wrong letter. Once again, I HATE IT!