One of my friends in Boca had a Facebook status update that went a little somethin’ like this:

“Lea comes home and tells me another kid put a booger and saliva on her arm today but don’t worry she wiped it off with a paper towel! Can you say bleach! Ewwww”

I read this in my room and couldn’t keep from hopping up, off to the playroom to consult with one of Lea’s classmates: Abigail. It was just a gut instinct KNOW.

“Abigail,” I say, “do you happen to know if anyone wiped boogers and saliva on Lea’s arm today?” I could tell by her face the answer was yes. But her mouth wasn’t as quick to the cut.
“What, like did you get a note sent home or something?” Her hand had been on her hip but slid down as she spoke, leaving her looking down into the confused finger web she was about to weave.
“Abigail, did you do that to Lea? You can always tell Mama the truth; you know that right?”
“Yes,” she whined.
“Yes, to which part? Yes, you know you can tell me anything or yes, you were the one to wipe boogies and saliva on Lea?”
“Both,” she said in a low voice. I crouched beside her and asked if she’d like me to wipe my boogies and saliva on her. It was a risky question because depending on the day, these kids might think gross.. but also awesome. There was a possibility that she’d respond, “Yes, may I pick which arm?”

Thankfully, she admitted that she wouldn’t like it, that she was just trying to be funny. That she was only playing. I mentioned germs and hands to ourselves without mentioning lady-like behavior because that term sucks and pigeonholes girls. “So what are you going to do about this, Miss?”

“I won’t do it again.”
Great, but how does your friend Lea know that?
“I can call her or write her a letter to tell her I’m sorry.”
“I think that’s a wonderful idea. Saying sorry isn’t always easy for people to do, but we all make mistakes, every one of us. The best thing you can do is admit what you did wrong, so you can learn from it.” I set her up with her notebook and pencil at the kitchen table, watching as she sounded out her words. “You’re doing a really good thing by being aware of your behavior and working to be better behaved and also by letting someone else know that you care about how they feel. I’m proud of this Abigail. Not of bad manners but for apologizing the way you are. You’re a good egg.”

“Mama, I’m not an egg. I mean seriously.”

Our talk had me thinking about apologies, how I used to believe they were really only good for those doing the apologizing. To be on the receiving end, they can be “just words.” But if you do it right, from your heart, where you truly show how much you wish you could take it back, they have got to know it’s way more than words because they can see the weight of it on you. We should all take that lesson from the sandbox. Be quick to apologize and mean it.

In response to my friend’s status update, I replied: “OMG, I just asked Abigail if it was her, and she said, ‘What did you get a note home or something?’ Yes, dear. It’s called Facebook. Bleach is right. Sorry!”

Friend: “LMAO!! I was not going to give names or say anything ever! Just thought was quite the story. I’m cracking up. No worries, we scrubbed away! :)”

So when the day comes that Abigail can’t believe I posted the contents of this precious apology, I won’t be offering up a sorry. Because this right here is the good stuff.

We originally moved to Boca Raton, Florida for a job opportunity Phil couldn’t pass up. Now, we’re moving to New York with the same explanation. The reason Phil has been in New York for two weeks, back to Florida for a week, then off to New York for another two weeks is because he’s taken a new job—working with my father in Queens, New York. There’s a lot going on in our family now, health issues—not my father, not Phil, but family—and we want to be there, to be close to the ones we love (Phil’s parents live in Queens; my dad is in Manhasset. All our cousins are in New York, not to mention Smelly, Alexandra, and Dulce). My father is looking to spend less time at the office, and who better to learn the family business than the father of his grandchildren? Phil was actually born to do this job. He officially began in February and neither he, nor my father, could be happier. My dad loves Phil. Loves.

So, where in New York exactly? Manhattan? Brooklyn? Bayside? Long Island? Westchester? Or perhaps a suburb in New Jersey? In coming to a decision—we’re still making one!—there were two factors that bubbled to the top of our priorities list: the school district and the commute. First we looked at Phil’s commute to Queens, no where near, not even close, to a subway or train line, so towns like Port Washington, Long Island, were out of the question. We considered Rye, New York, but again, having to take two bridges to work killed that deal. Same goes for Jersey. Then there was the option of Manhattan. We were both on the fence about taking our suburban kids who, up until this point, have lived with land and stairs, a yard, riding bikes and playing tag, as I watched them from a kitchen window. In truth, I think the adjustment back to city life would be harder on me than them. Unless we had an unlimited budget, I think Manhattan would be too hard with kids. Nothing’s impossible, but when I imagine our future, I see my own past—a childhood of catching inchworms off trees, of picking buds off bushes, of having a playroom and piano that was our own private world of make believe. Still, we were on the fence about it, so we looked into New York City schools.

To be considered for the Gifted and Talented schools, the children would have had to be tested a year ago, with a New York City address, obviously not an option. Fine. But here’s what’s not fine: they would both be required to skip kindergarten completely. Because of birthday cutoffs in New York City schools (which includes Brooklyn and all of Queens), a five year old child cannot turn six years old at any time during the year of enrollment. For example, if a five year old is entering kindergarten in September 2012, s/he may not turn six years old at any time in 2012. So, Lucas and Abigail would be required to skip kindergarten. Studies have proven (Oh, Malcolm Gladwell, you drive red-shirting hyper-parenting parents crazy) that those who are youngest in their grade are at a statistically significant disadvantage.

I consulted with Lucas and Abigail’s current teachers who recommended, strongly, that the children not skip kindergarten. The best advantage you can give them is going into school confident. “You also don’t want them to be the last to drive, with them getting into the cars of their friends.” Crazy that we’re talking about driving and SAT scores just as kids are learning to write “sat” in their journals. Currently, both the kids can read and sound out words phonetically. I didn’t realize that kids did this before starting kindergarten. But throwing them into first grade, despite where they are now academically, isn’t an option.

The school cutoff dates are different outside of New York City public schools. In Long Island, for example, the children would be placed into kindergarten, where they belong. So New York City schools aren’t an option, which means neither is living in Brooklyn or Manhattan or even Douglaston, Queens. Which leaves us to Long Island, where I was born and raised. But which town?

Jericho. It’s the best school district on Long Island, hands down (99% in math, 91% reading comprehension). It’s district is ranked 3rd in all of New York state. But. But it’s a schlep and a half, at exit 40 on the Long Island Expressway, for Phil. The drive from Roslyn to Jericho, for example, is at least an extra 20 to 40 minutes, depending on the weather and traffic. If we took the place we’re considering, with low ceilings in The Hamlet East, a condo community zoned for Robert Seaman Elementary school (k-5th grade, ranked 8th in all of New York elementary schools), it would likely mean all of Boca Raton, just with colder weather. It’s the same people, though I’m hoping I’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Another option, 20-40 minutes closer to Phil’s work, is a beautiful home in Roslyn Estates, where the kids would be zoned for “The Heights,” Roslyn Heights Elementary School, which consists of preschool, kindergarten, and first grade only. Then kids continue on to East Hills Elementary for grades 2-5. Let’s look at the numbers…

ROBERT SEAMAN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL, JERICHO
SchoolDigger Ranks Robert Seaman Elementary School 8th of 2293 New York public elementary schools.
SchoolDigger ranks Jericho Union Free School District 3rd of 683 New York school districts
Average Math Score: 99.0
Average Reading Score: 91.5
Total Students (2009 – 2010): 315 – Grades K-5
African American: 3 (1%)
American Indian: 0 (0%)
Asian: 44 (14%)
Hispanic: 10 (3.2%)
Pacific Islander: 0 (0%)
Two or more races: 0 (0%)
White: 258 (81.9%)

Fulltime teachers: 38.4
Student/Teacher Ratio: 8.2
Eligible for discounted/free lunch: 0.6%

EAST HILLS SCHOOL, ROSLYN
SchoolDigger Ranks East Hills School 191st of 2293 New York public elementary schools.
SchoolDigger ranks Roslyn Union Free School District 41st of 683 New York school districts.
Average Math Score: 86.5
Average Reading Score: 80.0

Total Students (2009 – 2010): 563 – Grades 2-5
African American: 28 (5%)
American Indian: 0 (0%)
Asian: 94 (16.7%)
Hispanic: 46 (8.2%)
Pacific Islander: 0 (0%)
Two or more races: 0 (0%)
White: 394 (70%)

Fulltime teachers: 40
Student/Teacher Ratio: 14
Eligible for discounted/free lunch: 12.5%

FYI: East Williston School District, where I went to public school, ranks 14th of 683 New York school districts.

It’s not all about numbers, though. There’s the emphasis on arts and sciences, I get it. There’s the people! Though, I have a feeling, and I could be wrong, that the people in Jericho are the same people in Roslyn, are the same people in East Williston and Manhasset… give or take a few rosary beads.

Here’s where priorities get in the way. We are renting a home for a year before jumping in to buy (imagine if we hadn’t done this in Florida?), and ideally, I’d prefer not having to yank the kids out of a school district once they’ve begun. So ideally this choice is one to which we’d stick. Phil believes that IT’S KINDERGARTEN! Who cares if they go to 1st grade in a new school?! It doesn’t truly matter until middle school. That’s when you don’t want to go yanking. But first second grade? Kids are resilient.

Yes, but. But change is hard on all of us. It’s stressful. We’ve taken them from Texas, to Florida, and now to New York. Then one school and house, then another house… a move… plus yet another new school? Am I making more of this than I should be?

I try to remind myself of this: that the most successful people in this world are those who can move through the chambers of change with ease. Who can be at ease with new unknown situations knowing there’s a flow, knowing that they’ll eventually get their footing, then push hard toward succeeding, then be on top, only to start back at square one. It’s the cycle we go through so many times in our lives, with health, with school, with friends, at jobs, in romantic relationships even. With death and grief, with changes, period. And it will be our job as parents to help our children navigate these stages of change so they learn to feel comfortable with transience. It’s one of the, if not the best, lessons any of us can learn. But then I flip back to the phrase, “Kids need stability to feel safe.”

These aren’t the most important decisions I’ll make, but they are what I’m up against now. And I’d LOVE some insight from readers on this. We need to decide soon. We may choose neither Jericho or Roslyn, perhaps we’ll keep looking at Manhasset or East Williston, but now that we’ve narrowed it down to Jericho and Roslyn in terms of acceptable rental homes, we’d love to just decide now… while the homes are actually available. Our move-out date in Boca: JULY FIRST!

Phil wants Roslyn but phoned me to say “I’m willing to do Jericho if and only if we assess that drive and if it’s too much for me, that’s it. Not a consideration going forward.”

I want Jericho but phoned Phil to say, “I’m willing to do Roslyn if and only if we assess the school district and feel like it’s not the best we can do, that we’ll buy in Jericho instead.”

So, we’re both willing to bend and neither of us will break. But I do hate the idea of his driving an extra half hour to get home, all cranky from sitting in traffic. And it means more time for me with the kids, helping with homework, etc. without relief. It means less time with their father. It’s not an easy decision. We need to make one within the next few days. Your help on this would be awesome (both homes are the same price, though the condo has a community pool, tennis and gym included). Also, both homes are only for a year.

I just ate breakfast soup, after eating breakfast. Today’s breakfast was pecked in serving order—between feeding the beans, I dug into small bites of Challah French toast Pudding, just a lick of syrup, packed lunches, just a handful of Pirate Booty, three rings of pineapple. Then I returned home to devour the best soup I’ve ever made. Breakfast soup is not a milky porridge with bits of crumbled bacon and a swirl of maple spiced egg custard (though that does sound heavenly). No. It is phenomenal soup of the savory variety from which you won’t be able to keep yourself come breakfast. You’ll eat it cold, standing up, straight out of the fridge. I am crazy in love with this soup. I will share the recipe because it’s my own, and you won’t find one for it anywhere else (believe me, I tried to find it).  But first, a random of the past few days:

LUCAS LOST TWO TEETH
They go out in the same order they came in, people say of teeth. We noticed a gap in Lucas’s lower rack, only to discover that a tooth had run away. Lost, didn’t even realize it was gone. Then, another loose tooth, one he was ready to tuck under his pillow as soon as it came loose. Though yesterday, when I picked him up from school, the gap had widened. “Where’s your loose tooth, buddy?”
“Drats,” he said. “Foiled again.”

ABIGAIL LAST NIGHT
After a dinner of New York strip and my Sweet Potato Mojo Fries (Sweet potatoes cut into fries, shoved into a plastic baggie with egg whites, then spread upon a parchment-lined baking sheet, cooked at 450 degrees for 15 minutes, flip fries over, cook another 7 minutes or so, then quickly shower the hot “fries” with: salt, 1 clove minced garlic, chopped cilantro, chopped mint, zest of 1 lime, and a pinch of red pepper flakes—the egg whites act like a browned crackling coating), Abigail turned to me and without stopping for a beat said, “Mama, now we need to eat our ice cream for dessert because we have to get all these sweets out of the house!”

WHAT ARE YOU—NOOOO!
Perhaps I’ll spare you the story of Kind Sir’s transition into a Waterfowl the other day. Nervous stomach, meet the ool—notice there’s no “P” in it? Supposed to keep it that way. Oops. Poor Abigail, too, dragged out, soaking, forced to race with us into an air conditioned bathroom, with Lucas truly waddling, appropriately enough, like a Waterfowl, which is exactly the noun I’d turn into a verb to discuss the situation. It was a water-foul. Nightmare on my street. I will also spare you the scene once we entered the bathroom. There will be no discussion of the sink. Truly tasteless, I will also add, after all this poop business, my mind keeps circling corn kernels. I am so sorry.

MICHAEL’S GENUINE FOOD & WINE
Last Wednesday, Phil and I stole away to Miami for the afternoon. Phil was there for work, and I’d come along to eat. We dined at Michael’s Genuine Food & Wine (They have a cookbook, too). It’s the kind of place where I imagine patrons asking the waitstaff, “Yes, the chicken is organic, but what was it fed, where did it sleep, and what was his name?” My sustainable food associations with zealots aside, Michael’s offered us fresh, bright, inventive food—surprising. I ordered the soup, which, yes, served as inspiration for the breakfast soup I just devoured. Since I was unable to find the recipe anywhere, including a cursory search in their cookbook via Amazon, I recreated my own version at home. In love, despite the free-association.

- ∞ -

THIN COCONUT CORN SOUP (WITH OR WITHOUT COCONUT)
4 cups College Inn Chicken Broth (not stock)
4 ears of shucked fresh corn (Not sure you’ll get the same crunch and perkiness from frozen, but perhaps. Grab a bag, use ¾ of it)
1 baking potato, peeled and cut into ½-inch cubes
13.5 oz can of can of good quality coconut milk (my fav: Chaokok brand for its high coconut cream content)
½ red onion
Pinch or two of red pepper flakes (your call on how much heat)
1/3 cup fresh minced mint
1/3 cup fresh minced cilantro (unless you’re one of those people who HATES it)
2 pats of butter to swirl in at the very end
2 tablespoons of olive oil (again, optional. I added at the end, then whisked because I love to see those teeny tiny dots of flavor in my broths)
Totally optional if you like it creamier: ¼ cup Heavy Whipping Cream (or to use if you’re stuck with a crap brand of coconut milk)
1 Avocado, cubed
Zest of 1 lime (optional – I did not do this)
Salt and (white) pepper to taste

I say thin because this isn’t some chunky glue chowder. The broth is thin. Also, you can modify the recipe using low-fat or fat-free alternatives like fat-free half-and-half. I go for the fat kind of thin, personally.

1. Holding them upright in a bowl so kernels don’t fly everywhere, strip the cobs of their kernels as close as possible to the cobs. Place cubed potato and the kernels and their cobs in a large, heavy pot with the broth, making sure the broth covers all. If not, add more broth or water. Season with ½ teaspoon of salt. Bring to a boil, then cover, stirring occasionally, until the corn and potatoes are tender and the broth is flavored, about 17 minutes. Remove and discard the cobs.

2. Whisk in coconut milk (and cream). Add red onion, ½ of chopped herbs, red pepper flakes Reduce heat to moderately low and simmer, uncovered, until the flavors have a chance to meld, about 5 minutes. Add the remaining herbs, season with kosher salt and white pepper to taste. Optionally whisk in butter and/or oil. If you want more brightening power than the mint, add zest of 1 lime.

3. Add avocado cubes to the bottom of each serving bowl, and more red onion if desired, add the soup, and serve immediately, or eat for breakfast reheated in the microwave.

Pine Crest School. Everyone (definitely not everyone) wants to send their children to Pine Crest. Some of my dearest friends (Alexandra from Straight Up and Dirty) attended Pine Crest. Actually, I’d say at least five, bordering on six depending on how you define “dearest,” of my girlfriends attended Pine Crest. The thing about private schools like Pine Crest is that kids never go there; they attend.

I know a woman. Her son was recently accepted to Pine Crest. I’ve heard this news from other women. I’ve heard that it’s only a matter of time until I hear it from her, when she thrusts the news up to my eyelids. This is very juvenile of me, but I’m already equipping myself with a response.

“That’s great. I hear they’ll pretty much accept anyone who’s willing to throw twenty-thousand dollars at a problem. Good for them. Good for him. Good for you.”

That’s just petty, a response anchored in jealousy. Only, I’m really not jealous. Do I wish I could afford to send both my kids to private schools and pay for their college years in full, of course. Would I even if I could afford it? I don’t know.

When affronted by this woman, I need a way to back her up. To keep her out of face. Why does it bother me so much? She’s not being malicious. She’s not mean-spirited. I want her to stop trying so hard to be important. Her telling people that her child got accepted to Pine Crest makes her feel important. I want her to know that she needs to read a self-help book and work on her self-esteem. It’s a book I more often than not find that I too need to read.

Still, something isn’t sitting right with me, and I don’t like how much I… I don’t even know how to qualify it. I just know that this feeling isn’t one with which I feel comfortable. I guess it’s her boasting that just makes me want to smack her, despite knowing her motivations behind doing so, despite knowing how insecure she is. I just wish I didn’t feel this.

What I want for my children is a sense of worldliness, the kind that usually only comes with travel. And that’s how I’d like to spend my money, on travel, taking my children on an African safari to witness a (natural – circle of life) kill. To walk the streets of different cities where they speak different languages. I don’t want them in a school filled with same, where there’s a sense of entitlement. And that’s Boca. People “show.”

Pull into the parking lot of B’Nai Israel in a Bently or a Rolls Royce, “with the attitude to match” I’ve heard. In New York City, a couple “worth” more would show up to school like everyone else. Backpack’s loaded, walk-in, be safe, have fun, done. Here it’s a production, an outing, with traffic directors and notes home reminding parents to turn off their cell phones and pay attention (you almost hit a kid for crying out loud).

Phil asked me the other day, “Why is it so wrong to shelter your children?”
“Like, what’s so wrong,” he asked in earnest, “with not being exposed to homelessness and poverty and crime?”

I thought about it. It’s the kind of question we don’t ask because we take diversity as a given, a good thing, a privilege and perspectives. Still, it made me think.

When I was in Hebrew school, our teacher, Mrs. Weiner asked us what we’d do if we heard screams—violent, shrill screams—coming from just next door. We’d call the police, investigate, make it our priority to make it stop. Right whatever’s wrong. “Why is it,” she asked the class, “that when it’s not happening in our own backyards, we allow ourselves to care less?” Out of sight, out of mind. You have your problems, I have mine. The urgency and care isn’t as immediate when we’re not experiencing it ourselves. Why is it important to care about the injustices happening elsewhere, why is it crucial to expose children to other ways of life? Not to be sheltered? Look at royalty, groomed to rule a country in which they’ve never really lived. For me, the answer is compassion and appreciation. Being thankful for our blessings, knowing (and truly believing and feeling) that more doesn’t mean better.

Why then, if this were true, wouldn’t I send my children to a poverty-stricken school? They’d learn that lesson early on, for sure. We want “the best” for our children, to give them every opportunity, an education they can learn and earn with their hands and senses. Not from books and lectures but in an environment that nurtures creativity, a patient environment, all because we don’t want our children to fall behind, out of the running, for them to be limited by something we did, something in our control and within our means to change. Because our children are up against the rest of the world, it’s why we so much want to give it to them. Only, I’m not buying that. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a competitive spirit, but I don’t see their world in comparisons, in a rat race, for a gold star or trophy wife. “Because our children are up against the world” is bullshit. They do not experience enough of the world.

Giving my children the world, at least in part, means not always giving them the world. For now, it means exposing them to that world, equipping them with skills and fundamentals, exposure and access in a nurturing, cozy, safe environment. My next challenge, as they move on to kindergarten, is deciding where we’ll find that world.

Oh, and for those expecting the price of Pine Crest… per child…

Pre-Kindergarten and Kindergarten (full day)
$19,990

Grades 1-5
$21,220

Grades 6-8
$22,760

Grades 9-12
$24,440

Tonight is fondue night. I’d planned it for yesterday, but then I was too tired to do anything I’d said I’d do, which lead to a drive-up window, which lead to my eating everything they didn’t, which lead to the mildest form of guilt, which led to “Oh, why not?” paired with a dry Riesling from Germany. From France to Germany, I’m very Euro that way. Only, I made them shower.

Pajamas, toys littered here, some there. Clean up! Only who had the energy? I needed sleep. Still, as promised on nights without TV, we read two bedtime stories, one of their choosing: Amelia Bedelia and The Baby and one of my favorites: Anatole. I was gearing up.

I knew fondue night would come—I’d spent too much money on cheese for it not to come—and what better book could I select than a story all about cheese! Anatole, as far as I’m concerned, is the original Ratatouille (the Disney Pixar film, not the country-style vegetable dish featured in the movie, based off Thomas Keller’s recipe for “Byaldi”). So, tonight it is. Fondue times two.

Equal parts Gruyere and Emmental, white wine, a clove of garlic, a thimble of Kirsch, a fresh dusting of nutmeg. Melt on, my friend, melt on. Though, I might cut back a bit on the Emmental because I’m not the hugest fan of Swiss cheese. I am, however—and this is true since living near Zabar’s back in the 2000′s—a monumental fan of Fromager d’affinois, the greatest oozy cheese ever. Pure cow’s milk, it’s a French double-cream, and it puts Brie to bed and leaves it there for good. It’s, I’ll just say it, better than butter.

I’ve spent my afternoon previewing Friends with Kids, while prepping the conduits: sugar snap peas, roasted cauliflower, blanched broccoli, grilled baby bellas, carrots and green slips of Granny’s apple. Then onto hulling strawberries, slicing mango, dividing oranges, cleaving nectarines, and peeling kiwis. I’ll leave the bananas to the end. Pretzel rods and pound cake. All to be devoured by my succulent sweet beans. As for Friends with Kids, it’s When Harry Met Sally, only not as funny. Though, it is funny, and I did enjoy seeing most of the Bridesmaid’s cast—I wish they had bigger roles. Sorry to be so quick about it, but I have to race to scoop up the tadpoles. I think I’m going to make them speak with French accents before we re-read Anatole tonight.

Your Child’s Strengths is one of my favorite books, and my love for it really has nothing to do with children. Most “find your strengths” books come in Business Flavor, with strategies on leadership and how to energize your existing staff by identifying their strengths. While these books may allow you to narrow down if you’re “Analytical” or an “Ideation,” there you are, limiting yourself, and I’m not sure you’re learning all that much. I find it far more insightful to get a bird’s eye view of our lives, our decisions and habits, then to cull distinct strengths from observations across different pockets of our life.

Held within the pages of  Your Child’s Strengths are answers to who we are, each of us, and the answers aren’t written in paragraphs and inspirational stories of those often regarded as successful. The book, penned by Jennifer Fox, M. Ed. is loaded with prompts and exercises designed to reveal what your (child’s) strengths are.

It’s odd, don’t you think, that we are all too quick with a numbered list of our shortcomings, but we rarely have a quick answer to such a simple question: What’s special about who you are?

I’ve noted throughout the pages and posts of this Greek Tragedy blog that what makes us special is the fact that we’re here, that we’re born special, and I believe it. But we lose our way sometimes—I still feel my way through the dark wondering if I’m living my best life—and we’re not all striving to be our brightest selves each day, not when we become complacent and mired in our familiar.

The other night, I asked the beans to tell me one thing that was really special about who they are.

Lucas: My whole body is special because it lets me get stinky.
Abigail: My nose because it lets my boogies go in and out, in and out.

They were in a silly mood, a mood that lightened me. It wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind when I asked the question, but their responses made me realize how important it is for me to emphasize their unique qualities and strengths to them (focusing on things they can work on. Because saying, “you’re so smart” doesn’t give them pride. I think it starts to feel empty. I prefer, “I admire how well you were concentrating; what a wonderful quality you have of really paying attention during math games.” Strengths bloom and change with time, but what better gift can I give them than handing over my full attention, with a sharp focus on who they are, as originals, before they strive to become copies. It’s not just them, I owe it to myself to work through the same exercises, to really dig and reveal what my strengths are. One thing’s for sure, they’re not from my upper body.

Come, play along…
Your Child’s Strengths breaks strengths into four categories:
1) Activity Strengths
2) Relationship Strengths
3) Learning Strengths
4) Looking to the Future

Examine the activities you do at home. We have strengths often in one part of a sequenced activity but not in the whole. You basically do this simple thing, like washing dishes, and can extract insight from it, to apply to the rest of your life. Here’s an exercise from the book (I also love the idea of couples doing this exercise to learn more about each other).

Take two different colored pens or markers (for this example, green and red). Look at a list of household activities, and break them into at least 3 smaller parts. For example, “cleaning up after a meal” can be broken into clearing the table, washing the dishes, and emptying the dishwasher. So, you have a big list of things like: Cleaning up, cooking, grocery shopping, making the bed, doing laundry, decorating, organizing, dusting, etc… and you break each task into at least 3 parts… under the broad headlines of IN THE KITCHEN, IN YOUR ROOM, FOR THE HOUSEHOLD, FAMILY INTERACTIONS (Family Interactions: Shopping, wrapping gifts, entertaining guests, talking about problems).

Everything you list should either be underlined in red (hate doing it) or green (love doing it). Be Switzerland with nothing. Just pick a side, can you barely tolerate it or do you not mind it so much?

For everything underlined in green give no more than two sentences about what it is exactly that you like about the job. Do the same for red, what you DON’T like about them.

Now look at your green items. If you had to choose one job to do and you could stop doing all the rest, which is the one you’d choose to keep doing? Draw a PLUS SIGN beside it. Do the same for the red list, with one sentence about what you dislike most about this single job, adding a MINUS SIGN beside it.

Making The Connections
Make two columns on a page. WANT TO DO / DON’T WANT TO DO (here’s where it gets really interesting). Add the green items to the WANT list, reds to the DON’T WANT.

Now, fill in the following blanks with either an activity you said you enjoyed or one that you marked in green… repeat this with more than just that one (PLUS) activity. Perhaps choose your top three or five.

The part I like best is… (choose one of the three broken down elements)
If I could put what I enjoy doing about this activity into one word, the word would be….

Example:
I like this action: Grocery Shopping
Breakdown: Making the list, Choosing ingredients in the store, Arranging all the groceries at home
The part I like best is: Making the list.
One word that describes what I like best would be… Planning.

Now, look at the two words you came up with for that last part (because you did it with more than one activity. For brevity sake, I only included the one action: Grocery Shopping). You are going to use these to help you think of a few more things you do that you haven’t listed yet.

Next, fill in these blanks:
I feel energized when I am……….. BLANK.
Here is a list of other activities that involve using this word:……… BLANK.

Use your green pen to circle the activity you enjoy the most of the ones you just listed. Recall the last time you were involved in the activity. Then write five sentences describing what you were doing and when it was. Repeat these steps using the other word. These statements are the beginnings of understanding your Activity Strengths.

As a parent of young children, it’s my job to take notes of the activities my child naturally likes. For each activity, try to isolate the part that s/he most enjoys. I’ll know this by the amount of time spent on a task or by a visible sense of joy or deep concentration (like when they’re involved, faces contort, tongues stick out).

Another activity included in Your Child’s Strengths would make such a fun date night, and you can add alcohol (it’s also fun to do with kids). Bring a camera to a public place where lots of jobs are going on. The grocery store, train station, shopping mall, a school, sporting event, etc. Take 10-20 photos of all the various activities and jobs you see.

Look at the photos at home and write down all the tasks you can think of that are involved in each different job you photographed. For example, if you took photo of an umpire, list all the things you think an ump has to do, aside from constantly adjusting his balls. Then arrange the photos into groups of jobs that seem to have similar activities associated with them. Choose which jobs have the most activities that you think would appeal to you. Then discuss or write why, and which would NOT appeal to you.

I love introspection and learning about ourselves, revealing patterns in our lives, and I love that this is a gift I can give to myself and to my children.