Remember 15?

I just read a coming of age script about a teenage girl in the 70s. I piled a bunch of pillows on my office rug and sprawled out with my laptop, a cup of coffee and a giant chocolate chip cookie, as if it was my bedroom. It seemed like the appropriate thing to do. It brought me back to be being fifteen.

Do you remember 15? Feeling everything so intensely. I remember dating inappropriate boys and hiding them from my parents. Annoying little sisters. Writing zines. Feeling really alone and also under a microscope all at the same time. I can picture my bedroom - the collage / shrine to Kurt Cobain.

I wonder what Em will be like when she's 15. Will she hate me? I guess that's partially inevitable right? Don't all daughters hate their moms at some point? Will she tell me what's going on in her life or will I have the urge to snoop? What will she look like? What will she be in to?

I think my mom and I are so different even now, but at fifteen I couldn't see any resemblance. Will I see it in her?

Are you the best?

There was a poll on BabyCenter today that asked the question: "Do you consider yourself the best parent you know?" Sixty-eight percent said no. For me parenting is a little like being bipolar. There is the side of me that secretly judges other parents and feels morally superior and the other side of me that is crippled by self-doubt. But judging by these poll results, I think that's probably a pretty common problem. A friend of mine is a SAHM. Her daughter was fully potty-trained by 2 1/2, knows sign language and is super verbal. My friend made all her daughter's food from scratch, buys only educational toys, is religious about daily story time and used to cut out pictures of babies from magazines and make collages to show her daughter. I don't fully understand the point of the last one, but I'm sure it helps assist something developmentally desirable. I know I will never be that mom. I look up at her on the pedestal I've put her on and think she's the perfect mom in so many ways. Some people might say - overbearing helicopter mom - but her daughter is one of the most well-adjusted polite, funny, smart kids I know. As much as part of me wishes I could be that, a larger part of me is exhausted even thinking about it. She gave me her baby cookbook when she was done with it. I've flipped through it a few times and looked at the pretty pictures. I have another friend who is overwhelming burdened by her working mom guilt. The kind that makes it hard to see the forest from the trees. She leaves the house before her kids wake up and she's home after they go to sleep. Her mommy-daughter quality time takes place in the wee hours of the morning while breastfeeding. But she's also a really good mom. Her kids are smart, polite and adorable. She taught her son two languages even though she was the only parent in the house who spoke one of them. We all have to learn to make it work for our own circumstances. For me, I feel lucky that I get one day home alone with my daughter every week. But I also feel guilty when sometimes I just want her to nap so I can watch Keeping Up with the Kardashians. I think I'm a good mom. But I don't think I'm the best. There are some things I would change, but there are also things I just know I will never do so I don't bother stressing about them (too much). Mainly, I want what we all want - to not hand down too many neuroses and inflict psychological damage that results in years of future therapy.

In Honor of My High School Boyfriend

As a teenager I hung out with some pyromaniacs. Maybe that's why "Dead Man's Lake" appeals to me. Firework obsessed teenagers in Metallica t-shirts are something I know a little bit about. I personally never lit off more than a roman candle and (one time) an M-80, but I was around enough to realize the fact that we still have all our fingers has more to do with luck than smarts.

In honor of stupid teenagers everywhere here is a horror film that could easily also work as a public service announcement.

"Dead Man's Lake" - Short Horror Film (Bloody Cuts) from BloodyCuts.co.uk on Vimeo.

Now That's a Father That Loves His Kid

With Fall in the air (finally) and Halloween just around the corner, it seems only fitting to share a short film that fits the spooky spirit of the season while also showcasing the intense feelings of parenthood. It's an emotional film about a father trying to protect his child. It's odd to say I was really touched by this zombie film, but I was.

Cargo from Daniel Foeldes on Vimeo.

Fall is in the Air

Fall has always been my favorite season. There are so many changes to look forward to - cool, crispness of the air, changing leaves, seasonal drinks at Starbucks. One of my favorite Fall traditions is apple picking. Growing up my family always made an annual pilgrimage upstate to pick apples and pumpkins. I've tried to go every time I am back East during the Fall and it's something I really missed living in Los Angeles. Until now. I've done the local pumpkin picking thing here, but it's not the same. Driving 45 minutes to pick up a pumpkin that clearly didn't grow there while wearing a tank top just doesn't capture the same spirit from my childhood trips. That's why I was really excited to realize this year that there are great orchards just a little over an hour away.

So on Saturday we packed up the car and ironically headed towards the desert (and eventually up into the mountains) to pick some apples. Oak Glen has all the best parts I remember from apple picking with my family - and then ten times more. The orchards are so close together you can walk from one place to another without having to drive. Hay rides, petting zoos, general stores, apple donuts, press your own cider, throw a tomahawk, pick a pumpkin, pick some berries - it's amazing!

I wasn't sure how Em would like it, but turns out she was totally into the idea. It probably didn't hurt that sorting is one of her favorite activities right now. What's better than sitting in an orchard with bags and bags of apples that you can move from one bag to the next. It was toddler paradise. And definitely a new family tradition.

What is Home?

The New York Times did a wonderful photo series called My Hometown made up of photographs taken by teenagers of their communities. There are a lot of really great photos and it's worth taking a look at all of them. It's interesting to browse them as a whole because it shows how while our life experiences can be so different, there is also something so universal about the human experience. Even though it's not the most beautiful of the shots, this one really got me for some reason. I think it's because it shows how much as parents we want to shelter our kids from pain - even if it's just the disappointment of losing a game. There is so much said on that father's face.

What Happened to Farmer Joe?

In my house we talk about the disappearance of Farmer Joe as if an actual family member has mysteriously disappeared. Farmer Joe is a Little Person - of the Fisher Price clan. We're not exactly sure what did Farmer Joe in. There's still a chance he's just in hiding (and who would blame him). He could be under a bed or behind a bookshelf. Who's to say really. But given what I know has gone down with a few of his friends, I'm not optimistic about his return.

When toys disappear, especially toys with faces, I can't help but think of Toy Story. How awful would it be to a child's toy! Sure there are adventures and hugs, but not every toy gets to be Woody. Toddlers love to send their toys on walkabouts. Often, those toys don't come back.

Em has been shaking down the toy community for a while now. First there were the dinosaur magnets. Originally collected from cereal boxes, they've been living a fairly peaceful existence on the fridge for the last six years. But now it seems two of those dinosaurs have become extinct. This morning I rescued another from near extinction after he went for a flight off our second floor balcony.

Emily has discovered the garbage can and I have discovered that it's become my job to check that can every 20 minutes to see if anyone has been dumped like a dead body in a land fill.  I've discovered plastic farm hay, animals and rings, but I fear Farmer Joe was dumped before I was aware any of this was happening. I fear his will become a cold case, never to be solved.