School Zones...

...Or should I say fences? Maybe this isn't news to anyone but I can't find much discussion of it online. Most people I know don't have kids so I'm going to come out and reveal this shocker. The way public school zones are drawn in New York City are completely corrupt, discriminatory, and utter bullshit. The only thing I could find on this topic was an old court case in Tennessee where they were complaining that the school zones were drawn to keep the schools segregated. In NYC, your child has very little choice but to attend a school in your zone. What got me started on this? Our neighborhood in Forest Hills, of course. It's a very diverse place, both in nationality and economically. Case in point, our building is a co-op where the apts range from $150K-$250K. Right across the street are actual houses that are about $950K-$1.75MM. Down the street on the co-op side of the block is where the apts start going for $500K-$700K. And wouldn't you know it? The best school zone in the area, containing P.S. 196, manages to zig and zag it's way around the cheaper buildings and enclose the richer ones. Check out this map below. We're the red dot:

If you knew the neighborhood well enough, you'd see that the grey chunk in the upper left is all moderately priced apts. I find it interesting that the grey area even juts out at 67th Drive to exclude part of a block.

Now, this could all be for naught because who the hell knows where we'll be living in 5 years when Alina starts school. And the zone we're currently in, containing P.S. 175, is a very high achieving school itself. But P.S. 196 is the kind of school they advertise in real estate listings because of how sought after the district is. And for the moment, it taunts me as its lines run up the middle of my street. Right outside my window! Where the children draw with gold plated crayons and eat paste made from crushed pearls. For now, I just throw my hands up and try to find out who at the Department of Education draws these lines and why. And who influences them?

Funny 'Coz It's Florida

Musings from the Sunshine State...

It's a whole new audience!
Ethan at Age 6: Mom, watch me! Watch me jump in the pool!
Ethan at Age 30: Alina, watch me! Watch me jump in the pool!

Mommy ESP!
Trailer Chick By The Pool: "One time I was taking a nap and just lettin' the baby crawl around the house. Then, I felt her pulling on my blankets. I woke up and she was making this choking sound! So I put her on my lap and started beating on her back and PENNY came out! When my husband came home I was like, "Honey you can't be leavin' change around the house!" But, you know? I just knew somethin' was wrong. The way she was pullin' on my blankets, like? And that sound she wuz makin'? I just knew. It's that mother daughter thing."

7-Day waiting period? Great! That's how long we're here!

Oddly enough, these stores were only a mile away from the mansions of Palm Beach.

First Airplane Ride

Oh, the preparations you'll make. Blankets, toys, lunch, snacks, distractions, teething devices, removing magazines from seat pocket, booking aisle and window seats so the middle one stays "empty", Mama keeping her udders full so she can nurse during the ear popping ascent. But who knew she'd whack herself in the face with the seatback tray table? She was playing with this harmless little peanut and beverage holder and decided to lift it up over her head like one would a car's hood. Then, she let it go and POW! Right on the bridge of her nose. Well, we didn't prepare for that and she cried very loudly for about two minutes. Other than that incident on the runway at JFK, it went very well though.

What must she have thought of all this? Looking out the window at the strange, fuzzy ground that didn't seem to move. The only time she paid attention to the outside was when we were landing and the houses and roads got clearer, closer, larger, and went by faster. Did she think we were in some long car with very tall tires? Flying may prove to be harder the more mobile she gets. For now, she's a decent crawler but usually has nowhere to go unless she's chasing the cat.

On the return flight she actually slept in the coveted middle seat on her back, legs draped over Katrina's lap. About 90 minutes into this slumber, Mama confronted her bladder and decided she couldn't declare victory without getting up and using the bathroom. When she broke the bad news of her imminent walk to the back of the plane, I calmly paused, shrugged my shoulders and said, "I don't care." She seemed puzzled by this response. Who was I to begrudge her this most natural and satisfying act? "No no," I continued sedately, "You're not moving." I somehow thought my soothing tone would make her liquid pressures recede - like I was attempting a Jedi mind trick. "She's sleeping and this is the best possible scenario we could've hoped for." Logical? Of course. Maybe I failed to wave my hand across my eyes the same way Obi-Wan had instructed because this just didn't take. "Ethan! I'm gonna pee my freaking pants," she threatened! I wasn't really willing to test this possible bluff and although she moved Alina's legs with the precision of a champion House of Cards builder, she woke up. Not terribly fussy, really. But Katrina walked with her on the plane for the next 20 minutes after returning from her release so that there was zero chance of even the slightest whine. Because any whine would've probably been followed by an accusatory stare from me that said, "Well? You woke her!"

A Spoonful Of Nature Makes The City Go Down

Just like Queens, with a few exceptions...

What is this green stuff? To my knowledge, it's the first time Alina has physically been on grass. Typically there was blanket involved. Weird isn't it? But, I've always maintained that the key to happiness in New York City is having the means or ability or ambition to get out of the city as often as possible. The unhappiest New Yorkers I know are the ones who spend the most time there. And I don't think it's a coincidence. It's like recharging your batteries, assuming you have a second to take it all in. The picture above was taken in my father's backyard. We lovingly refer to him as Colonel Kurtz because after being a New York City lifer, he went up river and didn't come back down. But I think there are far less decapitations taking place.

First Halloween

"I get all the oogly eyes and cheek pinching and *mom* gets to keep the candy!"

A cow? Yes, a cow. Alina has a healthy self image so she was able to deal with the stigma of representing the bovine family that night. The lamb outfit was too big so wait until next year. We were in CT and we only visited a few houses, all people we knew. I was surprised at the total lack of Halloween destruction that I remember from my time in the suburbs. Eggs, toilet paper, shaving cream, Molotov cocktails. Though there were those big kids dressed as slasher film icons like Jason, Michael Myers, and even early Jason when he had that sack on his head. One was carrying an actual axe! I thought Jason used a machete. Well, I wasn't going to question them. They didn't seem to be carrying any candy. Just walked real slow and stared at people. Wicked. When we drove back to Queens that night I thought for sure we'd be ambushed by dairy flinging youths. Alas, nothing. I did see three eggs on the ground though, so there's hope yet. Most kids aren't even allowed to dress up on Halloween in school anymore. I've run into a lot of youngins who've said that their school has "Spirit Week" the week before Halloween. You know, Pajama Day, Hippie Day, School Colors Day? Weak, dude! I actually called my cousin's principal and asked why they don't let the kids dress up. I got the VP and he hid behind the Spirit Week excuse as well. I think it's a religious thing. One catholic school girl we know told us her teachers said in as many words that they'd go to hell if they dressed up. You tell 'em, Jesus!

Goober and Babycow