Wondering on this: I’ve heard several stories now about kids who are bright as heck, but are underachievers in school. My son does this sometimes. It baffles his teacher, not to mention me and his mom. He can do the work in his sleep, but gets distracted and sometimes takes an amazingly long time to do homework he should be able to nail.

I’ve heard and read several theories on this, and it does seem to vary depending on the situation. I had one mom tell me her daughter simply didn’t like school, but would easily do the work at home. A colleague of mine wrote about boys in particular several years ago, and the theory that public schools have a tendency to have built-in biases against boys for a variety of reasons. I will track that down and hopefully post that tomorrow. She did a remarkable job at it.

Anyway, I’m curious to hear some stories and thoughts on this. I hope to tap my growing and recently created experts list and run some of the scenarios and situations past one or two of them. Also hoping to coax a local education specialist to give me some insight and chime in on the issue.

All I wanted for Christmas was to figure out what to buy for my husband, kids, parents, nephews and siblings.

And then my 12-year-old son announced that he, too, had presents to buy. Namely for his parents (awww!), his grandparents (how precious!) his little brother (sweet!) and—for “The Crush.” Uh oh.

Buying for “The Crush,” a nice young lady who he’s known for about 5 years, shouldn’t be a problem, right? Wrong. I know what this is going to entail: Me (my husband would never put up with this), walking from little-girl store to little-girl store throughout the Galleria, asking him, “What about this necklace?” or “What about this pocketbook?” And my son, looking, sighing and shaking his head. And then, he’ll no doubt pick up some item with a $50 price tag and say, “I think she’d like THIS!” At which point, I’ll be ready to head back to the car.

So far, he has no ideas about what to buy “The Crush.” I’m thinking socks, little-girl cologne or bath items or something like that. Does anyone have any other ideas for what my pre-teen can select for the love of this month?

You can keep the $50 ideas to yourself.

Some spirited discussion after my Homework posting below, so wanted to keep the issue going.

I agreed with David V’s reply, particularly his characterization of Faith Hill’s comments and the perspective from which she speaks. I also agreed entirely with the final paragraph in the entry, which is what I took to be the ultimate point of David’s well presented entry.

David, I don’t take issue with what you wrote. In fact, I believe we agree. For example, I am equally baffled when a parent opts not to have a direct role in their child’s life, and also agree that children suffer in that situation. I cannot imagine how a child can be completely at ease with such a situation, although there are obviously circumstances where a parent is somehow a harmful presence in a child’s life.

My point in suggesting that I don’t agree with it all is more based on minor details. And much of that is based on assumptions made about your entry by others, not so much in what you wrote. For instance, while I agree that “out-of-wedlock” births clearly warrant attention — particularly given the statistics you cite — those situations should not be assumed to be the norm in single-parent families, which at least one of the other replies to your entry seemed to do.

Ultimately, I think there are some misconceptions about single-parent families. While economic hardship is an inevitable consequence of many single parenting situations, they are a pretty mixed bag and difficult to lump into one neat demographic profile. My son, for instance, was not born out of wedlock, yet I am a single parent. So the category excludes children of divorced parents.

I also pulled some numbers from the 2000 U.S. Census and a variety of surveys and studies (they can be found in the Parents Without Partners statistics I posted earlier), and found that the proportion of custodial parents and their children living below the poverty line dropped from 33% in 1993 to 26.1% in 1999. Over the same time span, the percentage of custodial mothers in poverty fell from 36.8% to 28.7%. The number for custodial fathers in 1999 was 11.1%. Of course, the numbers are a tad dated and it is still an alarmingly high number. For the record, the percentage of married families below poverty was 6.3%. Also, 89% of single fathers and 77% of single mothers are in the work force.

Again, I am not ignoring the very real issue of children born out of wedlock and living in poverty conditions. The numbers are clearly high for single parents, and it is a serious issue and one to take up in future in more detail. I am simply trying to illustrate that it is difficult to categorize single-parent households with one stroke.

What we all do share are lone parenting duties and children who are eventually going to have difficulty understanding their familial situation. The picture that David paints is an often grim one, but a realistic one. Clearly, Faith Hill’s commentary, while well-meaning, is hardly rooted in the very real, day-to-day life that many single parents find themselves in. My purpose in posting it was to highlight that she was showing some understanding of her situation being fortunate in that regard.

What I found most insightful in David’s entry, if I read it correctly, was the notion that we must take a level of responsibility as parents and as a society. The bulk of single parents are not reliant on taxpayers for support, and those that are need additional resources and better parenting training to better help themselves. Whether we like it or not, David is right in suggesting that “the idea that taxpayers are going to step in and rescue single parents from their ecominic struggles is fanciful.” There is simply a reluctance in our society to do so on a continual basis, whether we agree with the notion or not.

In the coming weeks and months I will attempt to link up with more and more resources for single parents, resources that will vary from support groups, to professional advice, to training, to services. Most of us didn’t choose to find ourselves in single-parent situations, but here we are. I think you’d find most of us, given the opportunity, very driven to improve our own circumstances, for ourselves and for our children. Very few of us want a handout.

ON ANOTHER POINT:

David, you are right on my son’s birthday. Last year, for instance, it did fall on Thanksgiving. My ex and I are flexible in that regard as well. Unfortunately, sometimes it affects time with my son: Last year I saw him the day after his birthday. Yet, it balances out, as he spent the weekend after Thanksgiving with me last year, although it was not my scheduled weekend. So while my ex was able to be with him for Thanksgiving and his birthday, I was able to have a few extra days with him. It’s all in the compromise. Thanks for asking.

I’m reading one of my favorite parenting blogs when I come across a mention of a product called “Sno-Paint.” The premise is neat. You take colored powder, dissolve it in water and shoot it out of spray bottles to create pictures in the snow. I love the idea! I can easily imagine my younger nieces and nephews getting a kick out of this. I was almost ready to say OK and click to order when sanity returned.

I asked myself, what exactly is Sno-Paint peddling for $16.95? The answer: Eight paint packets, four spray bottles (in the shape of snowmen) and instructions. An additional set of packets costs $8.95. The manufacturer promises that Sno-Paint is “harmless to people, pets and the environment,” plus it “magically disappears when the snow melts.”

I wondered: Why can’t I just use old Windex bottles and tint the water with food coloring or Jell-O? I sent an e-mail to one of the Web sites that’s selling Sno-Paint and asked exactly that question. I didn’t say I was a reporter, so we’ll see if I get an answer. I’ll let you all know if I hear back.

Is it just me or is $48 too much for sneakers for an 18-month-old? That was the “cheapest” pair at the Stride Rite in Mount Kisco, according to the sales clerk. Yes, I asked her to bring out the cheapest pair. But no, I don’t think I’m cheap when it comes to Pumpkin’s footwear. I just know that she would probably wear the sneakers maybe 10 times before she outgrows them. (Yes, she doesn’t get out that much.)

The reason we were out shopping for shoes was one that all parents can relate to: The shoes I bought this spring are getting tight. I asked my daughter’s pediatrician about shoes at her 18-month checkup, and she warned me not to let salespeople persuade me to buy the stiff, old-fashioned baby shoes we grew up with. Those memories do live on. In fact, my mother has been asking me if Pumpkin needs something more “supportive.” You see, when it comes to everyday footwear in the house, we opt for Robeez (pictured). In case you’re not familiar with this Canadian company, they make supersoft leather shoes with thin suede soles that let early walkers feel the floor beneath their feet. There are other companies with similar products, including Bobux. Target even has a version of its own. The folks at AskDrSears.com suggest buying leather shoes with a thin and flexible sole for beginning walkers. Robeez fits newborns to 4-year-olds.

We fell in love with Robeez when my husband’s college chums sent us a pair after Pumpkin was born. Besides being beyond cute, they stay on and seem comfortable. The price? $26 a pair. That seems reasonable to me, considering she wears these every day in the house in the cooler months. (This summer, we pretty much let her go barefoot inside.) On Friday, we bought her two pairs of Robeez for the winter, a brown-and-pink pair and a purple pair embellished with daisies.

Now that Pumpkin is participating in more excursions in the wider world, we felt she also needed a shoe that could handle pavement and wet surfaces. A sneaker seemed like a good bet. We ended up buying a pair of Oshkosh sneakers at Target for $12.99. I know I’m no expert in shoes, but they really don’t seem that different than the ones that were four times the price at Stride Rite. Am I missing something? Should I — or anyone else — be paying that much for kids’ shoes? If you have bought shoes at Stride Rite, or anywhere else that charges that much, do you feel you have something more for the money? I can see the point of buying more durable shoes once she goes off to preschool, but before then, it seems unnecessary to me.

(While we’re on the topic of shoes: My co-blogger Gayle had a great post in August about the battle to get her boys to wear “real shoes” as opposed to sneakers — along with some funny memories about the shoes her parents made her wear as a kid. It’s worth checking out if you missed it the first time around.)

No, I’m not raising homework for the kids as an issue. I’m giving you some homework. Here it is: Read David V’s response to my last posting and give me your thoughts. Personally, I think he hit on some great points.

Anyway, how did everyone do with Thanksgiving? I had a great one, and an interesting one in some regards. My son’s birthday was Friday, the day after. We juggled it very well this year, and did his birthday together as always. The fact that it was the day after Thanksgiving made for some interesting dynamics. Wonder if anyone will ask.

Well, let me know what you think of David V’s comments. I’ll blog on that next.

Ken Mahoney of North Salem gets it. It’s that feeling of thanks in the face of adversity that I think only parents can truly understand. He felt it when he accidentally broke the rear view mirror on his car. Like anyone else, his first thought was “darn” (or something like that). But then, his next thought was about his two young boys, and he said to himself, “Let that be the worst thing that can happen today.”

Ken has a special perspective through his work on the board of the Hudson Valley chapter of Make-A-Wish, which fills the dreams of sick kids. “You can never really have a bad day when you think about the bad days these children have,” he told me when I interviewed him for a story about holiday cards produced by charities that will appear in this Sunday’s paper.

When I listened to him, I felt myself give an agreeing nod. Don’t get me wrong, I still complain — probably too much — about the little things that go wrong in life (like the $550 I had to spend recently to replace the upstairs toilet).

But, ever since Pumpkin was born, my heart isn’t in these complaints. I know it sounds corny, but I wake up every day and feel grateful. I know that no matter how many things break, everything is all right in world if I can go to bed at night with my baby girl in the next room, sleeping in her crib.

I’d just like to share the lyrics to a song I’ve been enjoying especially as today’s holiday approached. As I’ve mentioned before, we’re big Raffi fans around here, and this is one of my favorites:

“Thanks a Lot”

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the sun in the sky

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the clouds so high

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the whispering wind

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the birds in the spring

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the moonlit night

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the stars so bright

Thanks a lot

Thanks for wonder in me

Thanks a lot

Thanks for the way that I feel

Thanks for the animals

Thanks for the land

Thanks for the people everywhere

Thanks a lot

Thanks for all I’ve got

Thanks for all I’ve got

- Raffi

Today, Pumpkin had baked potato and corn for lunch — and so did I. And then for dinner, she had macaroni and cheese with peas — and so did I. Yikes! It is a rare day when I can resist sneaking at least a mouthful whatever carbohydrate she’s eating — whether it’s pasta or potato or buttered toast.

This is not good. I want to follow the South Beach Diet, but the food I need to fix for Pumpkin constantly sabotages me. It’s hard to imagine a worse menu than Pumpkin’s for someone who wants to avoid daily forays into the wonderful world of carbs. Her favorite foods include toast, spaghetti and pancakes. All whole wheat, but still loaded with carbs.

It’s not all bad news. Often, feeding Pumpkin has actually turned out to be a boon to my own nutrition because I feel obligated to provide her with a hot vegetable once a day. (If I were preparing food just for myself and my husband, I’d probably toss a salad, especially on deadline days.)

A couple of years back my husband, mother and I stuck to South Beach for nearly six months. (I lost almost 30 pounds — then I got pregnant and felt free to eat pizza again.) The only reason we succeeded was because we did a whole kitchen cleaning, tossing out all the goodies we didn’t want around.

I know for a fact that all moms do not have this problem. (And I’m not just talking about Britney with her preternaturally fit abs.) Some people are able to resist the tempting foods they keep on hand for baby. Some people don’t say to themselves, “Wow, Pumpkin, you shoved that whole graham cracker in your mouth. It must be good. Let me try it.”

And I can’t blame Pumpkin for ordering takeout, even if the phone is one of her favorite toys. While she did enjoy munching on green beans in black bean sauce and tofu this past weekend, she didn’t call Q’s Garden.

What about you other moms (and dads) — do you find yourself tempted by the tasty, high-calorie food you feed your little ones? What are your tricks for resisting their sweet snacks and yummy full-fat cheeses? (I recently bought some whole-milk organic cottage cheese for Pumpkin. It was delicious. I didn’t even know it was possible for cottage cheese to be so good. You see what I mean.)

My colleague, “Mary Shustack”:http://justbrowsing.lohudblogs.com passed along a holiday catalog from Fortunoff today, featuring a bunch of gift suggestions for adults and kids alike.

One “kid” suggestion struck me as strange: a set of “exercise equipment”:http://www.fortunoff.com/find.asp?textsearchname=0desc&textsearchvalue=junior+shape%2Dup&samesearch=1 for pint-sized folks. Parents can choose from a treadmill, elliptical machine or exercise bike for junior and the machines normally retail for $149.99 each.

I suppose this is a good idea, in theory, because as the ad reads, it allows your little one to exercise right along with you. And in this age of rampant obesity among kids, some exercise is better than none at all. But can’t kids just run and jump and play without having all the right “equipment?”

What do you think? Might this be something that your kids could find among their holiday gifts?

Okay, this is a gratuitous celebrity plug of sorts. But I came across this news item from last month about Tim McGraw and Faith Hill, and just wanted to throw it out there. I’m not particularly a fan, and I’m also not occupied with following celeb couples. To be honest, few things rub me the wrong way more than a wealthy celebrity power couple griping about how difficult life is. Then I read this and found myself entirely impressed with the sentiment expressed, and give them both cudos:

October 30, 2006—Tim McGraw and Faith Hill do quite a juggling act in an effort to balance their careers with taking care of their three growing girls. However, Tim and his wife believe the folks who are to really be admired are single parents.

“We can get so caught up in what we do and being a celebrity,” Tim tells X Radio. “Faith was doing an interview earlier when somebody was saying, ‘How do you do it? You have a career and you got a husband you gotta keep under control, and you’ve got three kids—how do you keep it all together? You’re like a hero to moms.’

“And Faith said that the hero is a single parent that raises three kids, that still shows up to Brownies and softball games and still cooks supper at night. That’s the real backbone of our country and that’s the people that need to be supported by our government, need to be supported by voters, need to be supported by their neighbors.”

There’s an interesting “story in today’s Journal News”:http://www.lohud.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20061115/NEWS01/611150356/1276 about the alternative ways that PTAs and other school organizations are raising funds, now that traditional bake sales—where kids could once fill up on wonderful home-baked cupcakes and cookies and other sweet treats—are being replaced with other fundraisers, like singing telegrams and jump-rope-a-thons.

While I understand the need for less sugar and fat and more “healthy” ways to raise much-needed cash, it certainly isn’t an easy feat. I’m much more likely to come home from work and bake some cupcakes (I’ve been known to do this at midnight on occasion, if necessary), than I am to sit through PTA committee meetings to plan a jump rope-a-thon. Certainly, most kids probably don’t need another cookie, but it’s certainly a lot easier sell, if the school group’s goal is to bring in more money.

What do you think? Share your thoughts at the “In the Schools forum”:http://forums.lohud.com/viewforum.php?f=24. Or start chatting right here.

Today is Prematurity Awareness Day. If I read that sentence when I was pregnant, I’d probably pass up this post. I skipped those sections of the pregnancy books because, of course, that wouldn’t happen to me. But then, almost 13 weeks before my due date, just before they rolled me into the operating room for an emergency C-section, I heard these words from the neonatologist: “Ninety percent of babies born in this week of development survive and 85 percent have no major health problems.” He meant to be comforting.

I knew almost nothing about prematurity when I was admitted to the hospital two weeks before Pumpkin was born. I wasn’t alone. It turns out most people don’t know much about prematurity. The March of Dimes, which has its national headquarters in White Plains, has named November as Prematurity Awareness Month. One of the goals is to make 6 out of 10 women of childbearing age and half the general public aware of the problem of prematurity by the year 2010.

More than 508,000 U.S. babies are born preterm each year, which is defined as less than 37 weeks gestation. A normal pregnancy is 40 weeks long. About 12.5 percent of all babies are born prematurely, and it’s the leading cause of newborn death.

Because of my ignorance of prematurity, I was probably less afraid than I should have been before my daughter was born. I was also probably more terrified than necessary in the days and weeks afterward. We have been extremely fortunate. If the medical team who cared for us weren’t experts in treating extremely premature babies and their moms, she might not be alive today, and my life would be completely different.

Today was Pumpkin’s 18-month checkup. She weighed in at 19 pounds, 10 ounces. When she was born, she weighed just 1 pound, 13 ounces. In an average week in New York, 563 babies are born preterm and 97 are very preterm, like Pumpkin was.

In honor of Prematurity Awareness Day, a number of landmarks will be lit in pink and blue, including the Empire State Building, the Mid-Hudson Bridge, the Con Edison building in New York and Niagara Falls. (Coincidentally my hometown.) Take a look at Flickr’s March of Dimes: Prematurity Awareness Day 2006 page, which has sweet photos of preemies.

Here’s a picture of my little one when she was one month old:

My son’s birthday is coming up later this month so it seems like a good time to discuss that whole dynamic. I suppose this would be similar to handling of holidays for single parents, a topic which I blogged on earlier.

This one seems like a no-brainer. My ex and I have always shared in planning and attending my son’s birthday parties. This year will be no different and the kid makes out like a thief with two presents from his parents. I suppose there are perks. But I do know a few single parents whose relationship with the ex is so strained that they alternate years on the birthday parties. That’s always struck me as a true shame, that a parent can’t put aside whatever differences they have at least once a year for a child’s sake.

So, my first tip on this is just that: If there is one day separated or divorced parents should bury the hatchet, it’s a kid’s birthday. For parents who are truly alone as a parent — that is, no ex in the picture at all — then use the opportunity of the birthday as a grand event to create a familial feel. In addition to playmates, include grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. It will always be a tad disappointing without two parents there. But you will have a sense of family, and that can work wonders.

I was taking pictures of Pumpkin last night when I noticed she picked up something small and black and put it in her mouth. I saw this through the viewfinder, so in the second before I put down the camera, I snapped this picture (at right).

Then I said to Pumpkin, “Give it to me.” She did, because we’ve taught her to hand over anything we ask for. I thought at first that she had picked up a black thread, but when I looked at “the threadâ€? in my fingers, it moved! It was an ant! In the house! In November!

I heard myself give one of those “horror movie” screams. I flicked the ant off my hand onto the carpet, scooped Pumpkin out of the way and did what I always do when I spot a bug: Call my husband. I also told Pumpkin, “We don’t eat ants!” (Maybe I should start putting carrots and green beans on the floor?)

All I can say is, this photo will be highly amusing in years to come. (“Oh, it’s nice to meet Pumpkin’s new boyfriend. Come see this photo of the time when she almost ate a bug.�)

I’m sitting here at my desk, wondering when the buckets of rain predicted for today will begin emptying on central Westchester.

It’s not my lawn or the reservoirs that I’m worried about. Rather, I’m praying for rain so that my son’s 7 p.m. soccer game will be put off.

I’m really not anti-soccer. Honestly. But after a day at work, and having homework to oversee for my sons, dinner to make, laundry to do, and all the other nightly responsibilities, I just don’t feel like watching my son run around a soccer field. At his last game on Saturday afternoon, I was all into the sport, cheering on his team, as I relaxed on a blanket on the sidelines. But on a damp Monday night? I’m just not feeling it.

To be honest, I’m feeling like a bit of a bad mom. Am I?