One too many

As in "one too many snow days," or "professional days" in the case of today. Either way, all this snow and ice and sub-freezing weather and being stuck inside for days on end was bound to result in drinking.

Just didn't think it would be the stuffed animals. Then again, they have a history of misbehaving.












Also, I caught them watching this. (Which is probably not safe for work or homes where young children may wonder in and ask you embarrassing questions. Am so ashamed.)

Where'd everyone go?

Oh yay, more snow. (That would be sarcasm, for those of you not from NYC.) And two more storms on the way. Yippee. (More sarcasm.)

And schools are closed. Again. If this keeps up, by the time school ends for the year, it will already be time for them to go back. (Really, is it asking too much for my kid to have a full week of 8 to 4 school? I can't remember the last time she had a full week, or a full day.)

For those of you in Florida, Southern California, and New Zealand, this is what you have been missing. The first picture of what used to be known as our deck was taken after the last big storm, earlier this month. The last two -- where you can no longer see signs of our deck furniture (or much of anything else) -- I took this morning. And that one at the top? It's the spouse shoveling snow OFF OUR ROOF. Personally, I don't think they do the snow justice.

(Btw, here in the Northeast, split-level igloos are all the rage.)














































If you don't hear from me for a while it's because either a) the roof collapsed, b) I collapsed while trying to shovel all that snow, c) I fell out my second-story office window trying to break up the ice that has taken residence above it again, before it does more damage, or d) I spun out in my Mini while trying to make it to my chiropractor. (I should seriously attach a plow to the front of my bumper. I nearly didn't make it up our little hill yesterday. Very scary.)

I may be sticking my neck out here

But don't you think someone at the Santa Barbara Zoo would have noticed that one of their female giraffes was packing on a little weight?

I get that Masai giraffes are good at hiding their pregnancies, but how do you hide the fact you're carrying a 106-pound, 5'9" giraffe calf? And then hide the fact there's suddenly a new giraffe in the enclosure? Oh, I know: Some kid just left her 5'9" 106-pound stuffed giraffe in the giraffe exhibit! (See the video.)

(Giraffes must be Scientologists.)

Anyway... meet Daniel, the newest giraffe at the Santa Barbara Zoo, a not-so-little ray of sunshine for a cold, snowy day (at least here in the Northeast).



For more about Daniel the baby Masai giraffe, click here.

Exercise in peace, Jack LaLanne

Fitness pioneer and healthy eating guru Jack LaLanne finally ran out of juice at the age of 96 yesterday. Didn't even make it onto a Smucker's jar. Guess all those push-ups and jumping jacks and abstaining from sugar and meat, alcohol and nicotine couldn't keep old age and pneumonia from claiming one of fitness's finest. Or else God wanted a new personal trainer.

I actually interviewed Jack LaLanne years ago, over the phone. He must have been in his 80s at the time. We had a great time chatting. Must have talked for nearly an hour. (As I recall, I was also abstaining from sugar and carbs and meat and alcohol at the time, for health reasons.) He even invited me to come visit him and Elaine (is Elaine LaLanne a great name or what?) in California. (I declined.)

And although many people are more familiar with Jack LaLanne as the feisty old king of the juicer, this is how I will always remember Jack (née François Henri):



Whenever I stayed with my maternal grandparents in Elkins Park, Pennsylvania, we would always watch The Jack LaLanne Show in the morning, and do our exercises along with Jack. (Thinking about doing jumping jacks and push-ups with my grandparents, contemporaries of Jack LaLanne's who died many years ago, actually brings a tear to my eye.)

So in honor of you, Jack, I'm going to do an extra 25 jumping jacks and push-ups this morning. Exercise in peace.

Note: For more on Jack LaLanne, read this sweet obit on NPR by Tom Goldman.

How to raise a smart, happy kid

Wouldn't it be nice if there was some formula parents could simply follow and -- presto! -- you'd have a smart, happy kid? But there isn't -- despite what all those parenting books and psychologists and now Tiger Moms* have to say.

Think about it: We all know people whom we think are wonderful parents who have an unhappy kid or a kid who doesn't do well in school (or worse).

And we all know people we think are awful parents ("I would never treat my child like that") whose kid winds up being the class valedictorian and/or the most popular kid with tons of friends.

So clearly, a part of having (notice I did not say raising) a smart, happy kid is luck. (That is, some kids are just born having sunny dispositions and/or an aptitude for learning, while others are wired to be unhappy or due to some chemical or congenital or genetic malfunction have difficulty learning.)

That said, there are things you as a parent can do to help your kid get better grades (without doing the work for her) -- like surrounding her with books, reading to and with her, fostering good study habits, helping her study for tests, and encouraging and rewarding good grades (though not with bribes or coercion).

And there are things you can do to help your child be happy, or at least feel good about herself -- like spending time with her, doing things she wants to do or introducing her to things you think she might enjoy; telling her "I love you," every day, and meaning it; being a good listener; encouraging her passions and praising her (real) accomplishments; and not belittling her and telling her she's stupid or fat.

But there is no "formula" or book that can make your child class valedictorian or the most popular kid at school.

*Btw, I keep saying "smart, happy" because while I think it's important to cultivate a love of learning in your child (which IMHO I believe is the key to long-term academic and professional success), I think it's equally important for children to enjoy life, and to be able to do things that make them happy. Unfortunately, I have encountered too many parents who don't give a hoot about their child's happiness, just their grades (see Mom, Tiger). And what's the point of being "smart" if you are effing miserable?

Disagree with me? Leave a comment. But please keep it civil or I will delete it.

No pants required

I give you the 2011 NYC No Pants Subway Ride, orchestrated by Improv Everywhere:



Over 3500 exhibitionists, ranging from a few months to 76 years old, took off their pants and rode the New York City subways in the name of art and improv.

Pants off to you guys. Very cheeky of you. The thighs have it.... OK, I'll stop now.

Btw, I'm guessing that all those people who looked surprised were tourists. No pants on the subway? Eh, just another typical day on the MTA.

Dear Winter, we are THROUGH

To tell you the truth, I never really liked you. You were always so cold to me. Icy even. Pulling one snow job over me after another. But I put up with you because I used to think snow was pretty. Not any more.

Now you've finally done it.

Usually when you dump a lot of snow on me, you soften the blow with a couple of unseasonably warm days that melt it all away before any damage is done. But not this year. Nope. This year you had to go outdo yourself. As if 18 inches of snow were not enough, you had to go dump another 18 inches on top of it. And now you're sending me freezing rain?

Furthermore, as if I didn't feel like I was already in prison you had to go and stick bars of ice all around my house. Yeah, very pretty... until one stabs you in the heart. (On the plus side, the snow vampires seem to be keeping away.)

And that cute little trick with the water you pulled in our living room? Not so cute. Though the living room did need to be painted. Just wasn't counting on having to also replace a couple of walls and the bay window and the chimney and the roof.

And for crying out loud, couldn't you have left my office alone? (Though, I admit, climbing out my office window -- which is two stories up -- and banging all the ice off it and the gutter with a hammer did feel kind of good. But did that stop all the water leaking in? No. FYI, all that ice you see in the picture at right? Gone. Oh yeah.)

So Winter, I'm through with you. Done. You are no longer welcome here. Take your snow storms and freezing rain and wind chills and go find some skiers to screw with.