crazedparent

The case against Crocs (alt. title: How my kid broke his toe)...

Crocs has been having a rough year: awful earnings and sales along with a plunging stock price. What can you expect when you have a pair of shoes selling for $26 at high-end stores and anyone can find a decent knock-off at Target for less than half the price? 

And then there's the lawsuit. The company is being sued for $7 million dollars after a little girl's foot got mangled after her Crocs got stuck in an escalator.

I was a late adopter of Crocs. My friends had them. My kids' friends had them. But I resisted. I'm a big proponent of buying sturdy shoes that are ready for action. I relented one spring afternoon when Six (then Five) and I were out shopping for new shoes. He really wanted a pair of green Crocs. And then Q. had a cute little blue pair from his favorite Wallie. I will admit that those tiny Crocs on Q.'s feet made me fall in love with them. My kids can put them on all alone, and mama loves her little ones showing some clothes independence. Also? Once your kids wear Crocs, it's really difficult to get them to put on real shoes. (I've chatted with many a school mom about this.) 

My guys wore them to the park, to the beach, and just about anywhere and everywhere they could. Because they just liked them. Safety concerns? I had none, other than the annoying little slivers the boys get from the wood chips on the playground. My dad, however, refused to let Six wear them when they were out. "Those pieces of crap are dangerous," he'd tell me. 

Let's fast forward, shall we?

Q. wore another favorite pair of Crocs to the park over the weekend. He was on a metal seesaw when it came down on his foot and crushed his big toe. Wait. Crushed isn't accurate. It broke his big toe. 

Had he been wearing his pair of Merrell mocs or other strong shoes, his toe probably would have been badly bruised. Instead, it's cut, bruised and busted because of that soft rubber that makes Crocs so comfortable. (Blurry photo = kid telling me to bug off his wretched toe.) It will take about two weeks to heal and his toe has to be taped the entire time.

I now fully understand and appreciate why so many parents refuse to let their kids wear Crocs. And it's fair to say my kids won't be sporting Crocs -- or any open-toed sandals or shoes -- when they are at the park or playing outside. 

I'm not fully anti-Croc. I think there's a place for kids to wear them. Like at the pool. Or the beach (Kauai, 31 days and counting every second, oh tropical slice of heaven). 

But I do hate it when my dad has to be right. 

 

Oh happy days...

"When we go out and take the field the way we should, they can't compete with us. That showed today." - Worrell Williams, senior inside linebacker for the Cal Golden Bears, talks about Cal's win over Stanford.

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Roll on, you bears. It'll be fun to wear the blue and gold today...right in the middle of Stanford territory.

I know the answers (I just don't like some of them)...

Back in college, I went to a book reading by Shann Nix, an author and former radio host, at Kepler's Bookstore in Menlo Park, Ca. She's a UC Berkeley alum and had just completed a series for the San Francisco Chronicle where she posed as an undercover student in a local high school. As she chatted about her then-new book, Wildcatting, she mentioned that when she felt the need to procrastinate, she would scrub the tile in her bathroom.  Writers sometimes need to procrastinate to let ideas ferment, and so you can imagine her bathroom must have been immaculate by the time she turned in her first draft.

I also clean when I need to procrastinate. Or when something heavy is soaking in my brain. Like now. I have two issues (and my sweet hubs has had to listen to me vet all of this out). One is fairly straightforward; I just need to act on it. The second issue is much larger and presents quite an interesting case study. It's also poses tough questions -- some philosophical, some ethical -- with several potential answers, all of them complex. But the second issue also require an action and therein lies the problem: what to do? Internet, if only you could pull up a chair, we could dish into the wee hours over vodka martinis and really savory cheese and crackers.

Since both "issues" are taking up mental space in my mind (and here I am, at 5:30 a.m on a Saturday morning, with my dog pulling cozy socks off my feet, writing about them, even in vague terms, to put a little bit of the weight on virtual shoulders), I have to clean other spaces in my house. Also, this article inspired me. So did this post by Ali Edwards.

Several months ago I embarked on a project to convert a hall closet into a workspace. Only shortly thereafter, I started a new job and the closet became...just a closet filling up with lots and lots (and lots) of unorganized stuff. I don't consider myself a pack rat, but I do tend to save mementos of my kids. Tickets from a first visit to Legoland or Disneyland (or baseball game or rock concert, ahem).

Now, my office/playroom floor is covered in boxes and baskets and photos and frames and more craft gear. I think I took on more than I can organize this weekend, but it's been nice to relive memories of trips, events and people. It also feels nice to be productive and get rid of things I just don't need. To make easy decisions. Yes, I want this folder. No, I don't need that pair of jeans I accidentally bought two sizes too small and never returned (and oh, what a shock it was to try those on when I got home from the store).

Now back to procrastination. 

What's your method of choice for inspired procrastination and the need to clear your head?

Things my kids can sleep through...

So clearly I missed a few days of posting and fell off the NaBloPoMo train. I'm okay with this development, if only because it means I am not a slave to my laptop. (This is a complete and utter lie. We had friends over, I drank too much wine, got a little sleepy, caught up on sleep the following night, etc.)

While my boys had some difficulty with falling back, when they do fall into a slumber, it is a deep, deep sleep. I'm not quite sure what wakes them up in the middle of the night and causes them to come into our bedroom for a little chatter time.

But I can tell you what they successfully sleep through:

...their alarm clock beeping loudly a few feed from their ears.
...crashing thunder.
...a nutter dog (read: Luna Lovegood) barking at 2 a.m.
...a helicopter flying overhead so closely that it sounds like our roof is its landing pad
...firetrucks with sirens blasting in front of our house
...earthquakes

Know that this list is accurate because I am awake for each occurrence, which is a sad, sad thing.

What can your kids sleep through?

What inspires you?...

Several years ago, before Six could read, I purchase a copy of Read-Aloud Poems for Young People. It was on sale for a few dollars and I envisioned reading the poems of William Blake and William Wordsworth to my sons. The book sat unopened on a shelf.

"Mom, who is Emily Dickinson?" Six asked me one morning on the car ride to school. She is one of my favorite poets, and I eagerly told him all about her poems that appeared silly and lighthearted but were really very serious and beautiful.

"Her poetry doesn't rhyme, mom. Neither does Longfellow's stuff. It's kinda weird."

I asked where he was learning about these poets and he told me he'd been found a kid's poetry book in the playroom. That one that I bought with good intentions.

"Mom? Do you know who my favorite poet is? Jack Prelutsky. Do you know why? Because he wrote a poem about pancakes and I can understand it."

He reads the poems to Q. and they laugh about the line that says the poet has pancakes in most of his pockets and in his suits and mittens. Or in "The Hippopotamus," we talk about why a hippo is so happy just walking around slowly in mud.

Prelutsky is an amazing children's poet and I can understand why Six likes his stuff. But my kid's interest in poetry made me break out my old high school and college English lit books. I found myself rediscovering old favorites like "Separation" by W.S. Merwin.

"Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color."

I remember junior year English class with Mrs. Cromey and her complete adoration of Emily Dickinson, and the way she recited "Because I could not stop for Death." And how I remember every word of that poem because of it.

Most of all, I remember how much poetry inspires me and puts me at peace. And how my kids are wonderful teachers.

What inspires you?

Falling back really hurts...

The end of daylight saving has been painful. I'm always ready for fall, the season. Ready for the darkness to settle my kids down at an earlier time. Ready for chilly weather and the need to cozy up on the couch with a blanket and a cup of tea.

But falling back on time is really hurting my sleep. Because it's completely thrown the sleep schedules of my little guys.

They wake up early, they are tired early in the evening.  They want to eat earlier. They want to go to bed earlier. We let them, they wake up early. We keep them up a little later, they still wake up early.

Also? I am not fond of sleep deprivation. Or being woken up at 3 a.m. asking if it's time for school.

Did the time change ruin your kid's sleep? Are they back on track?

Can you dig it?

Yay!

Rock the vote...

It's a picture perfect day for a new president. I haven't been as excited to vote since the very first time I cast a ballot in a presidential election back in, well, who cares.  It made me break out in song. You, too, can still rock in America.

Happy Election Day!

Morning coffee...

About ten years ago, I had my first taste of French press coffee. In Mexico. But it was so rich and so savory that my husband and I were addicted. We immediately bought one when we landed back in the states. But then we went to Italy and I fell back in love with lattes. Only now? I'm tired of spending more than three bucks a day on coffee.

Time to start a new morning routine.

I pulled out the coffee press a few days ago. And now that the kids are back at school, the house is quiet, the tunes are playing in the background and the dog is asleep on the floor next to me, I can truly enjoy my morning java.

I've heard complaints that coffee from a press cools quickly. I solve that problem by drinking it with warm milk.

I'm not sure I'll stick with the coffee press for an extended period of time. The lure of a good latte is the  steamed milk, and so a new purchase may be in order for the crazedparent kitchen. The only drawback is that I don't want a big espresso machine on my counter. Any recommendations for small espresso machines that do the job without breaking the bank?

I posted my Election Day checklist for you to review before you hit the polls tomorrow. Go check it twice over at Shine.

A dog's mind games...

If you only knew how hard it is for us to get Luna to rest on her own bed (read: she'd rather be on the couch, on our bed, on the kids' beds, on the kids' bean bags, which oh, look exactly like her bed). The bag is from Orvis, and it's cotton canvas filled with foam beads.

She won't sleep on it when we're around her. But at night, when all the lights are out and she knows she's left on her own in the living room, we can hear her making a nest in her bed thanks to those foam beads.  She loves her bed. She just doesn't want us to know she loves it.