Celebrity Mum

One of the parents at my daughter’s school is an honest-to-God celebrity.

She co-hosts a highly-rated prime-time talk show. It’s in Finnish, of course, so I don’t understand an awful lot of it, but even my husband (harsh and snide tv critic) watches the show avidly, commenting that it’s clever and funny.

The first time I met Celebrity Mum, I had absolutely no idea she was famous. We were picking our respective children up from a birthday party, and we got chatting. I innocently asked her, “So, what do you do?”

She looked at me with confusion – I guess she doesn’t get that question very often. Suddenly her face softened into understanding. She grinned broadly and with obvious relief, realising that I genuinely had no idea who she was.

CM: “I’m a…journalist.”

Me: “Oh, really? Do you work for a newspaper?”
CM: “Actually, I’m in tv.”

I'm ON tv, to be exact. A few questions later I finally caught on, realising that she was a “journalist” in the same way that Barack Obama is a “public servant”.

I didn’t realize quite how famous she was until one afternoon when my daughter had a few friends over for a playdate. CM came to pick up her little girl right at the same time as another mum friend of mine, S (whose child goes to a different school). I could see an instant glimmer of recognition in S’s eyes, but she said nothing and just chatted warmly with CM. Later, though, she called me.

“Oh my God. Is that who I think it was? You do know, don’t you, that she is about as famous as a person can possibly be in Finland?”

And then, at my daughter’s birthday party, my 13-year-old niece saw CM dropping off her daughter, and literally freaked out. Go and say hello, I said. She’s so nice! But my niece was completely star-struck and overcome, and could only gaze at CM, slack-jawed and in awe, from a safe distance.

I like CM. She is warm and friendly. She is cheerful and funny; self-deprecating and real. At our girls’ recent Christmas concert, she was the mum who landed a seat in the very back row, and with quiet eagerness stood up on her chair for a better view of her daughter. I asked her once, in all seriousness, if she uses some special product to keep her daughter’s hair shiny and tangle-free (no joke, this kid has perfect hair, even at pick-up time, when my own daughter’s is frizzy, bedraggled and hopelessly knotted). CM almost killed herself laughing – big, stomach-grabbing guffaws! – finally exclaiming how funny it was to hear me say that, seeing as it was a miracle if she even brushed F’s hair every day.  

She’s just so genuine and personable.

And yet, at every school concert and every birthday party, CM is the mum sitting by herself, without anyone to talk to. Everyone who knows Who She Is apparently feels too intimidated to approach her, and she seems somehow shy and withdrawn in these big social situations. If I’m the Mum who rushes around waving and hugging people, and talking excitedly (and just that little bit too loudly), CM is the mum who stands by quietly; smiling in a friendly way but remaining on the outer; giving other people the limelight.

It must be strange to be in her position. As a star with a huge fan base to protect and nurture, you would want to be friendly and social wherever you go. At the same time, you would have to be so careful (especially with Finns) not to paint yourself as a show-off who always seeks the limelight. People might behave awkwardly around you, feeling tongue-tied or awestruck because you’re that lady who’s on national tv. People might watch you with intent, waiting for you to do or say something stupid that they could report to the media. People might try to misuse photos they’d taken of you or your daughter.

She is famous and successful and widely loved and admired, and yet she is a virtual outsider within her own peer group.

That must really suck.

I had always thought it would be fantastic to achieve that level of stardom – to be a national figure. And yet, in many ways, wouldn’t it be awful?

I’m an ordinary person; unknown outside my immediate circle of friends and family; just another mum.  I blend comfortably into the crowd. People treat me like one of themselves. 

I never before realized what a great thing that really is.  

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In Praise of Nerds

I have lived outside Australia for almost 13 years of my adult life, in two different countries. Both my adopted homes (Japan and Finland) are full of people who speak excellent English, but rarely as a first language.

Over the years I have become so tolerant of quirks in non-native speakers' English pronunciation and grammar that as long as I can understand the intended meaning, I literally don’t notice mistakes any more. I even find myself absorbing errors unconsciously into my own speech (“We’re leaving now. Do you come with us?”),and I’ve started to second-guess myself on basic grammatical points (“If I was rich”? “If I were rich”?)

All this has raised interesting questions inside my head. What is the purpose of the English language in today’s day and age? Has it actually become THE universal language? Given the different versions of English spoken in Australia, America, England, Singapore, Hong Kong, South Africa, India, and countless other communities worldwide, how hard should we try to find and maintain certain basic standards of grammar, usage, and pronunciation? Is it actually possible - or even necessary - to keep the English language pure, and free from errors and laxity and rule-breaking (deliberate or otherwise)?

I have always been a bit of a purist in matters of English language usage. If I’m nonchalant to the point of over-generosity in allowing non-native speakers to make mistakes, I am absolutely the opposite when it comes to my own English and that of my native speaker friends. I cannot help but cringe inwardly when well-educated friends (even people with close to 20 years’ formal education in Australia or America) write things like this, not even realising that they've made an error:

“Your kind words meant a lot to Tom and I.” 

“Here are some photo’s for you!”

Naturally, I’m not going to correct my friends’ usage. My inner purist generally leads a softly-spoken and subdued existence, and is mindful of one friend’s excellent observation: “There’s a fine line between being grammatically correct and being a tosser.”

Besides, it’s not easy to be an English purist in today’s world.

A language used so differently in so many different countries in a fast-moving world is, by definition, going to need to be dynamic; arguably, this is one of those situations where substance is much more important than form. And besides, English speakers have no real equivalent of the “L'Académie française” language police agency that exists in France, telling people definitively what the rules are and how they should be followed. Today, you can consult the Oxford English Dictionary, Webster’s, and the Macquarie Dictionary, only to find three conflicting opinions as to what is correct, what is archaic or literary but not necessarily incorrect, and what is just plain wrong.

I have to ask myself – should I just let it go, and let people use English in whichever way they choose? If I understand what they’re saying, why should it matter if they misplace apostrophes, take liberties with spelling and grammar, write in run-on sentences, or use text-ese in emails? Writers (especially bloggers) write to be heard, and their message is what's important here. And besides, let's face it, many people my age were never actually taught English grammar at school; their teachers very likely didn't even know the rules well enough to correct mistakes effectively.

And yet, I know I’m not alone in my appreciation of solid, well-written English. Last night, in my Facebook status update, I noted idly that suddenly everyone suddenly seemed to be using the word “whilst”, and wondered whether I was alone in my cluelessness about the difference between that word and “while”. There are 20 comments in that thread so far, and while this may merely reflect the fact that I am a nerd who has lots of nerdy friends, when one friend commented gleefully how much she enjoyed this kind of debate, I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly.

My conclusion is that the English language today has two very different and distinct existences.

One “English”is the common language we use to get by in the world today. We speak and write to be understood. We tolerate mistakes (both our own and those of others). We become familiar with different “dialects” without insisting that people necessarily conform to our own linguistic idiosyncrasies. This English is the language of the internet, and the default language of the world media. We need this English to bridge divides of language and culture and to bring people closer together. We don’t – can’t –sweat the technicalities.

The other “English” is the English of classic literature; of good, satisfying grammatical debates; of spelling bees; of people who seek elegant turns of phrase and the beautifully correct use of difficult grammatical structures, and who delight in sharing their journey with others. We might break the rules sometimes, but we still want and need to know what those rules are, and we delight in arguing with like-minded people about linguistic grey areas.

My observation is that it’s become socially acceptable (even for native English speakers) to opt out of learning the second kind of English.

And maybe that’s perfectly ok.

Learning any language properly is a difficult, time-consuming task, and it’s arguable that in today’s world it is not strictly necessary to apply oneself to this task – it’s entirely possible to get by, and even do extremely well in life, without perfect grammar or spelling.

On the other hand, those who opt out of mastering their native language to a high level of accuracy will miss out on something - unquestionably. They will miss out on the thrill and satisfaction of mastering a difficult skill, and the sense of quiet pride that comes with the pursuit of accuracy and elegance. Excellence is, by definition, very difficult to attain, but investing time and effort in striving hard for excellence is one of the most fulfilling things a human being can do.

For their own sakes, I hope that in opting out of language mastery, people do not opt out of mastery per se. I sincerely hope that the time and effort that is saved is re-directed into pursuing excellence at something else. There are too many rush-jobs and corners cut and too much “winging it” in the overwhelming busy-ness of today’s world. The English language aside, everyone should know the quiet joy and satisfaction of being a nerd and a purist.

iChild

Lately, some of my Mum friends have tried to sell me on the merits of iPad - not for myself, but as a toy for my 2 year old. The perfect, portable, kid-friendly, multi-dimensional entertainment system, that keeps toddlers quiet at the supermarket, at restaurants, while waiting in line, when Mum is busy with a sibling, or when Mum is exhausted and all out of patience and just does not have it in her to engage, patiently and smilingly, for one more second.

Don’t get me wrong - I understand completely why so many people are hooked on iPad-As-Talented-Babysitter. I sympathize absolutely and wholeheartedly with the desire for a quick and easy fix when you’re struggling to entertain your kids, and I don’t deny that iPad certainly does deliver.

This doesn’t mean I agree that giving iPads to small children is a good idea. Not only do I disagree, but in the privacy of my own mind I disagree with a passion that surprises me. Here’s why:

- It’s not a Magna Doodle. It’s a several-hundred-euro piece of high-tech machinery. It’s a bit much to rely on a 2 year old to be consistently “gentle” and “careful”. I would prefer not to see several hundred euros hurled at the floor or drowned in the toilet.

- iPad may be more interactive than a DVD, but it’s still “screen time”, and very attractive screen time at that. How easy is it, really, to restrict a child’s use of this fascinating toy to isolated 10- or 20-minute periods? How quickly does that screen time stretch into an hour or more?  Many of us (myself included) often turn a deaf ear to experts' warnings about screen time. It seems like such a lot of work - too much work - to keep children occupied without DVDs or iPads. But I've realised over time that, ironically, those wonderful pockets of silence tend to come at a surprisingly high price. Periods of DVD-watching seem to make my children tired, irritable and difficult. The same amount of time spent on craft, puzzles, book-reading, or drawing seems to make them happy and energized. I know which result I prefer.

- iPad is easy for small children to use, and that worries me. The whole idea of things like crayons, puzzles, Duplo, etc., is that they seem simple, but are in fact highly challenging to small children. Trying and trying and finally managing to draw a circle, stick together two legos, or similar, children feel immensely satisfied, not to mention builds their dexterity and intelligence at a rate of knots.

- Small children need and want other human beings (preferably parents) to play with them, or at least to be a nearby, comforting presence who is ready to engage as needed. iPad doesn’t give them this.

 

I know that many (or most) mums are exhausted, strung out, and operating way beyond the limits of their own resources, and I don’t want to take away their coping mechanisms. At the same time, I know that deep down it’s not just me who senses, uneasily and perhaps without knowing exactly why, that iPads are not the right answer to our stressed-parent dreams.

“All right, Smug Annoying Parent”, I can hear you thinking. “What’s your answer, then? What do I do with my toddler or preschooler when I’m waiting in a 30-minute queue at the post office or at a doctor’s office? Or when we’re eating lunch at a restaurant and I’d like to enjoy even a few minutes’ quiet conversation with my adult friends? Or when we are at Older Sibling’s gym/ballet/music lesson and I have to keep Younger Sibling quiet and entertained in a restricted space?”

I am ready to put my money where my mouth is on this one. Here are a few ideas (personally tried and tested on my own children):

Low-tech, highly portable ways to keep your 2- or 3- year old quietly and happily amused in a small space:

- Plain white paper and crayons

- A 20-piece jigsaw puzzle (kept in a ziplock bag)

- One or more mandarins (make the child peel them by him or herself!)

- A pack of raisins

- A sheet of cheap stickers and paper to stick them onto

- A padlock and keys (try a few different-sized padlocks for added challenge)

- 10 Duplo lego squares and a few lego men/animals

- Maisy Mouse or other compact & light paperback picture books (I like to entertain myself by reading Maisy to my kids in a shockingly terrible imitation of Neil Morrissey)

- A pack of cards (preferably kids’ “memory” or “match” cards) for playing snap or the memory game

- One of those laminated cards with sticky plastic pictures that can be repeatedly stuck on and re-used (airlines often give them out)

- Shoelace-sewing cards, if your child can manage these

- Finger puppets

- I am sure you have lots of other ideas – please share them in the comments section!

 

I have a small bag pre-packed with several of these items. I’ve found that, on a good day, the first three alone can be enough to last the entire hour of Big Sister’s kung fu class. Obviously, some of these require more adult assistance than others, at least initially, but it’s worth putting in that upfront effort, since often once small children get the hang of something they will happily and proudly and do the same thing all by themselves, over and over again (e.g. my almost-3 year old, having mastered a particular jigsaw puzzle, will usually pull it apart again and re-do it, quietly and with great satisfaction, even 4 or 5 times in a row!)

We CAN keep our children happy and occupied, AND do it without going crazy, AND without relying on iPad. Steve Jobs was a genius and a visionary, but I respectfully decline his help in looking after my children.