Jenography

8 British gifts to get Americans (that I would never give to a Brit)

In an era when every shopping mall and high street plays host to the same set of shops, one of the exciting things about living in a different country from your family is that you can actually give them gifts that surprise, astonish and delight - things that they would never buy themselves because they couldn't.

This year I'll be spending Christmas in my hometown, which means lugging over two changes of socks, three changes of underwear and 22.95kg of gifts in my suitcase - all of them carefully chosen to delight my American giftees. It's just as well that I'm exporting these presents from the UK - because these are things that I could never put under the tree here in England.

1. Revels – My brother loves these. I pack-mule in bags when I visit. And as everyone knows, British chocolate is very different from the American kind. Don’t ask me how. Ok, I’ll tell you – it’s better. I could transport some Green&Black’s or other high-end choccies. But he loves the variety of Revels. He totally gets the Deer Hunter commercial.  In America, a gift of Revels say, “Have a Merry Christmas with this treat you only get once a year.” In the UK, it says, “I did my holiday shopping at the petrol station.”

2. Keep Calm and Carry On –The simple design and duo-chrome palette is stylish even if it was never officially used during wartime. This slogan has become so ubiquitous here – posters, tea towels, mugs, cringe-making versions that say Keep Calm and Carry On Shopping – it makes you want to bomb Dresden. But in the US, Keep Calm reacquires its stiff-upper-lip charm. I’ll eventually buy one for myself...when I move back to America. Until then, I'll be going historical and giving the poster.

My advice on family holidays in Dubai - in The Times

Dubai - soulless glitz factory or fabulous family getaway? Find out in the article I wrote for the Times website (subscription required). I'll be posting some additional Dubai advice and reviews, along with pictures, here soon so stay tuned.

In the meantime, read my family guide to Dubai in the Times.

CyberMummy 2011 Meet and Greet

One of the best things about the blogosphere is how conversations start then just build and grow. Just hours after we announced the official date for CyberMummy 2011 (Sat 25 Jun), people began talking and tweeting about it, sharing their pictures from the last conference, making plans and buying tickets.

For the last conference Mummysshoes.com had the brilliant idea of hosting a "meet and greet" on her blog so folks could get to know one another better and recognise each other on the day. Today she's jumped up and started one for next year. We'll need it even more as we're expecting more bloggers and more conversations than ever.

As one of the founders and organiser of CyberMummy, I'll be there. So here's my entry.

Name: Jennifer Howze

Blog: Jenography.net

Twitter ID: @JHowze

Height: 5ft 6 (when not slumped in a corner talking to myself)

Hair: Short red

Eyes: Blue

Likes: Tex-Mex food, serial melodramas on TV (Friday Night Lights is my latest), dance that involves "jazz hands" and 100-degree weather

Dislikes:  Gum on my shoe, people who drive too fast or too slow, sports on TV

How to make Halloween sensory boxes

 

 

Since I am The American in our circle of friends, certain things are expected of me. I must talk loudly and slap everyone on the back. I'm expected to start wars then appear on aircraft carriers declaring them won. It's taken for granted I will ruin the world economy. But in addition to all that, it's a given that I have to kick ass at Halloween.

After all, Halloween is one of America's most recognisable cultural imperialist exports. I can't just fill a bucket with candy and throw it at passing funny-looking kids who might or might not be in costume. But the whole Halloween in full flower thing, with grownups in really scary costumes and elaborate haunted house set-ups, can be pretty overwhelming, as other Americans will know. Too many adults take this holiday way too seriously. That's why I was delighted when a friend suggested we organise a joint, low-key kiddie party on Sunday. It just, you know, worked.

We started at my house, where 5 girls - 4/5ths of them dressed as witches - ate tortilla chips, tried to take a bit out of an apple hanging on a string (fun for the adults watching too) and danced to Monster Mash, which really should trend on the Top 40 chart at this time every year.

The best part were the "scary bowls". These were like sensory boxes where you stick your hand in and grope whatever you touch. We made up bowls of "worms", "maggots", "dried scabs", "miniature mice" and "veiny eyeballs", covered the whole thing with a sheet and let the squealing commence.

After that, we adults took the girls running-and-screaming trick-or-treating, which just filled me with love for my entire neighbourhood and its pumpkin carving skills.

We ended up at my friend's house, where the dad had made special Halloween cupcakes and we all danced to Lady Gaga. I was also told that my blonde wig looked quite realistic, so I might just take to wearing it all the time. As Ministry says "Everyday is Halloween".

Sensory boxes for Halloween:

* Worms - cold cooked spaghetti tossed in olive oil

* Maggots - cold cooked rice

* Dried scabs - crushed potato chips

* Veiny eyeballs - peeled grapes

* Miniature mice - pussy willow buds, off the branch

Please also note the "scary banana" in the middle of the table, on which my daughter wrote "Booooooooooo".

 

 

Is teen pregnancy making us hysterical?

We are obsessed about teenage pregnancy. As a society, we are the equivalent of a stereotypical teenage boy thinking about sex - constantly worrying, plotting and planning around it, mostly ineffectually.

News reports announce that teen pregnancy is growing (it's not), they give the impression that most teen parents are young teens (a large proportion are 18 or 19 years old and cohabit or are married), they handwring about rising rates of STIs (not surprising, given our growing rate of testing the young).

A debate on how policy is obsessed with teen pregnancy at this weekend's Battle of Ideas unpicked a number of factors that feed into our ideas about teen pregnancy. These include everything from the government's interest in having citizens that adhere to a family norm to our discomfort with our children turning into sexual adults.

As my friend Jan Macvarish, a researcher at Kent University and author of Teenage Parents' Experience of Parenthood, aptly said, "Teenage pregnancy is all things to all people."

We're all familiar with that popular scapegoat the gymslip mother, who's usually yelling at her toddler while swigging an alcopop and blowing smoke in the face of proper society.

Yet it's social and economic deprivation that causes poor outcomes, not just the age of the parent, said Rosalind Edwards of Weeks Centre for Social and Policy Research at the Battle.

Everyone overestimates teen pregnancy, which has been falling since 1970, said Simon Blake, a panelist who is the national director of Brook.

I found myself agreeing with Blake when he said that our preoccupation with teen pregnancies is closely intertwined with how conflicted we are about teen sex.

We think they're all doing it all the time (cue another story about weird teen sex parties), we don't want them to do it, we can't agree how to talk to them about it. Alongside that there is often the demonisation of things that prevent teen parenthood - contraception and abortion.

Additionally, we don't talk about sex as something aspirational and something to plan for and think ahead about, Macvarish said.

(Blake thinks it's wrong that teenagers have sex without orgasms. One does tend to wonder, what's the point then?)

I came out of the session with a fuller understanding of the factors that influence my opinion of teen pregnancy, as well as how government policy tries to address it. The upshot for me was that we should stop with the hysterical hand-waving, throw out the smelling salts and stop looking at that pregnant teenager as a symbol for all that's problematic about society and teen sex.

Jenography featured in SHE magazine

What do Cindy Crawford and I have in common? I know a thousand examples rush to mind, but really the most important right now is that we are both featured in the October 2010 issue of SHE magazine.

Cindy is hogging the cover (yes, yes, Cindy, we get it, you're still hot) while I'm lounging in a much more reserved position of p69 (please, no jokes - it is just too easy). The article is about online communities and along with the Connoisseurs, the Domestic Blogesses, the Fashion Followers and the Confessionistas are the Mummy Bloggers. (Click on the image to see a readable version. We're in the lower RH corner.)

In addition to this very blog you are reading right now, the article name-checks:

* The charming flotsamblog.com

* My BMB partner www.amodernmother.com

* The just-as-good-as-a-mum singleparentdad.blogspot.com

* the mama of all mommy blogs www.dooce.com

* and the inimitable www.sandycalico.blogspot.com

 

How to put pressure on your MP

As important as petitions and online groups are to creating momentum and pressure for important causes, I've always wondered how effective they are for actually making the politicians who represent me sit up and take notice. (Blogger activism is becoming more and more prevalent - read the guest post by Eva Keogan on being a blogger activist that I put up on the British Mummy Bloggers blog.)

You always hear that personal letters make more of an impact, but I've never really known what to put in something like that. This video tells exactly what to put in a letter so that it's more likely to be circulated among staff and grab the attention of the person you're writing to.

While it's done with an American letter-writer in mind, its suggestions are just as relevant to people writing to their MP or even Prime Minister. (I found this video through StopCrush.org, a website set up to stop the videoing of small-animal torture - a horrifying activity that I didn't even realise was a problem. Thanks to them for sharing this video.)

 

 

Why cheerleading is good for the UK

  The other day I discovered A Modern Mother's dark little secret: she used to be a cheerleader. I loved this little revelation because I, too, used to be a cheerleader (evidence pictured) and frankly, it can be a little lonely. Even if we are amazingly hot, we're still dumb blondes who mindlessly shake our pompoms at the footballers - we don't even know what to do with ourselves after the game ends.

It's funny how this stereotype persists and is parrotted by people without any real experience of cheerleading. I was a cheerleader in Texas but even in the seat of football country we didn't live down to the image. We cheered and supported all the teams - from girls' volleyball to junior varsity basketball for girls and boys to track to, yes, football. I'm biased, yes, but because my opinion is based on reality.

Today The Times tackles cheerleading here in the UK (subscription necessary), interviewing Pat Hawkins, who promotes the teaching of cheerleading in schools. The paper visits teams in Manchester and Macclesfield, talking to the boys and girls who take part.

The writer Stefanie Marsh doesn't like "the smile" in particular:

Men don’t have to smile while playing rugby or football or, come to think of it, any other sport. Women are expected to smile: in swimming, in gymnastics. The smile is not just annoying: coupled with make-up and ribbons, it implies a willingness to please.

She misses the point. Plenty of performers smile as part of the performance - certain types of dancers, all kind of stage performers. There's also the assumption in the article that the boys would rather be playing football (er, why? Because cheerleading is "girlie"? Seems like it's not just girls who get stereotyped).

The  real problem of course is that view of cheerleading as something silly, titillating, and intrinsically demeaning.

This is despite experience of the kids involved in it - who find it fun, athletic, a mode of expression and a way to conquer their shyness. The Times admires Hawkins's enthusiasm and efforts, but then goes on to say:

If only it wasn't cheerleading. If only Pat had put her energy behind something like trapeze-walking, they could still wear the "pretty uniform" but the whole business wouldn't sound so annoyingly provocative, even if it really isn't more provocative than, say, gymnastics or synchronised swimming.

Which is a pretty sad indictment of how people are willing to abandon a positive activity for kids (which doesn't emphasize microminis and bare midriffs and also includes boys, by the way) because of the misconceptions around it.

We've been working at smashing the stereotype of dancing as a "girls" activity, of maths as a "boys' thing", yet we're willing to let our ideas about cheerleading be dictated by leering men's magazines and outdated notions based on a pre-feminist image.

Even 20 (or so) years ago, being a cheerleader was a positive experience for me, emphasizing hard work, teamwork, scholarship, school support and gaining confidence. It may not be the activity some would wish for kids (too American, not a real "sport"). But Pat Hawkins's programs expand opportunities for kids and they enjoy it. Why can't we cheer about that?

What can happen when you go away for an adult weekend

So it was supposed to be just a fun little jaunt to Copenhagen. Just a short little anniversary getaway with some friends who got married the same month we did. No pressure, no stress. Drop the daughter off at granny’s, catch the plane the next day, sleep in, walk ‘round, have afternoon drinks, eat well. Perhaps some adult situations.

And it was that. Copenhagen is an incredibly liveable city. On Sunday, the sun was out so we sat by the canal, had a beer. People tucked into lunch with blankets tucked around the legs. Even a minor Easyjet delay couldn’t take the glow off the afternoon.

Then the next morning I arrived at granny’s to discover that my daughter has spent Sunday evening vomiting over herself, the bed, the brand new slippers granny bought her, her favourite oversized teddy bear, the nursery rug. Grandpa's note read:

12:15 - Projectile vomit covers nursery. Child in guest room. Grandpa in deep shock.

1:15 - Sick again.

Yet to make that list: granny’s car, in abortive outing the next day.

She had also developed a rash around her mouth that didn’t go away when pressed by a glass, necessitating a quick run to Casualty to be told that she had none of the symptoms of meningitis. Even the rash was the wrong type. I’ve never been so glad to hear she had failed a test.

Everyone involved behaved impeccably – grandparents being very che sera sera, daughter not vomiting in the car on the way back to London, smelly teddy bear leaving graciously. But I can’t help feeling this might be the last grown-up weekend away we have for a very long time.

Copenhagen: Cool kiddie transportation

Good design moves people. Visiting Copenhagen this weekend I discovered it moves young people in particular, with stylish kiddie vehicles.

The city has a cycling culture, but alongside the trendy boys and women wearing 4-inch heels pedalling around town, you also see scores of parents with their children sitting in large boxes in the front of their bikes, some bundled up against the fresh breeze, some zipped under foul-weather covers like mini-tents.

This is not some freshly knitted eco-trend. The Danish Christiania bike has been around for 25 years and is considered a design classic (we saw it featured at The Danish Design Centre). It's all made that much better with the wide designated cycle lanes that are actually separated from regular traffic. Sure beats those skinny blue cycle strips in London.

But the real surprise are the prams. In the UK, the old-fashioned Silver Cross style of pram is hopelessly impractical if you plan to take public transport and actually, I don't know, enter a shop.

Here, everyone is wheeling this style of pram. I saw a man getting onto a city bus with one, his toddler perched on a little seat affixed across the top. I saw people wheeling their babies through the wide main shopping street. And what happens when you want to duck into a cute little cafe like Granola (order the soft-boiled egg platter, it's dreamy)? You leave your big baby carriage parked outside the door. On the sidewalk.

I'm not going to be one of those people who insists everything is better somewhere else. But when it comes to wheeling your kids around town in comfort, Copenhagen races ahead of us.