Boys vs. Girls

So as we speak I am sitting in focus groups listening to 9-year-old boys talk. Some are so cute you want to take them home. Others well...you feel for their parents.

But here's what strikes me the most....the utter conviction with which they speak. I only say this because sadly, many girls at this age don't tend to do this. I don't know when it happens but as some point in elementary school, girls start caring what people think. Not saying boys don't but not in the same way. And this makes me really, really sad.

This is why kids' focus groups are usually just all girls or all boys...the boys overwhelm the girls and they never get to speak. The thing is, in real life, this obviously isn't the case. So what does that mean for the girls?

Right now, A. is only two and doesn't care if her playmates are male or female. And I can't see her not sharing her feelings, since she was born opinionated from the very start. Kept refusing to wear her little hat in the hospital and everything.

But I suppose a time might come when that won't be the case; when someone's opinion will matter so much that she might not speak up at all. I hope it doesn't but it might. In the meantime, she seems quite comfortable asserting herself. I'll remind myself to be grateful for it the next time she tells me "more Elmo" or "ice pop...now!" Not that she'll get what she's asking for...but at least she's speaking up.

Jason the Bachelor is engaged!

Good for him. Hope it works out. Here's the link:

http://tvwatch.people.com/2008/12/10/the-bachelors-jason-mesnick-im-engaged/


The show starts January 5th. Woo-hoo!

Sulking in a Winter Wonderland

Everyone has their own holiday memory. Mine happens to take place on a beach.

I think I was seventeen or eighteen and my friend Laura and I went to the beach on Christmas Day. Mostly because we didn't celebrate Christmas and therefore had nothing else to do, unless we wanted to partake in the customary Jewish tradition of Chinese food and movie. We sat on the beach, soaking up the sunshine (long before we worried about the horrors of cancer and premature aging) listening to "Feliz Navidad" on the radio. I remember thinking to myself...why would I ever possibly live anywhere else?

And then I did. I couldn't resist NYC...the grit, the dirt, insert your own cliche here. I moved in the summer, oohed and ahhed through my first encounter with fall leaves and then...it was winter.

And boy was it. I had never owned a pair of boots before unless you counted my white ankle-high ones with fringe I paired with my white denim jeans in high school. And that is something that is worth forgetting.

I quickly learned that while snow appeared fluffy and soft it was actually wet and quickly turned grey. All the leaves dropped off the trees and stayed that way for like, forever. I also learned important lessons such as, just because the sun is shining doesn't mean it's warm.

You would think after more than 15 years here, I would have learned to like the cooler weather. Or at least, not hate it. My northern friends roll their eyes as I start complaining, usually around November. Usually around this time I start to contemplate moving somewhere warmer. My northern friends say "I would miss the change of seasons." And I say "I wouldn't." But I would miss New York. And so I stay.

But don't expect to get me on a sled. Or excited about the first snow. I will admire the white stuff from the comfort of my couch, hot cocoa in hand, dreaming of the palm trees.