Fire In The Hole! Latest Salvo Fired In The "Mommy Wars"

Apparently both sides in the Mommy Wars have been a little too quite lately. Naturally, someone had to lob a grenade into the opposite camp.

The truce in the Mommy Wars--if there ever really is one--was broken last week when Democratic Strategist Hilary Rosen criticized Ann Romney by saying she has never worked a day in her life. Ouch.

First of all, I believe that any women who raises children and manages to hold on to her sanity deserves a medal. Any woman who raises five boys should be an automatic candidate for sainthood.

However, I get what Hilary Rosen was trying to say, albeit badly: As a woman of means, Ann Romney cannot really identify with the everyday challenges of a working or stay-at-home mom because she always had resources such as housekeepers, nannies and gardeners at her disposal. How many of us can lay claim to that?

The question remains, however, if that statement should have been made at all. When women continually lob jabs at each other for the choices we make, it makes us look petty, catty and quite frankly, bitchy. We play perfectly into the stereotypes that many have of us when we continually criticize each other's roles in society.

Why is it so difficult to accept that we all make the choices that work best for ourselves and our families? The notion that working mothers are selfish and stay-at-home moms are lazy and stupid should have gone the way of shoulder pads and big hair. Still, someone manages to throw those very stereotypes in our faces every few years.

I think the problem arises because many women are uncomfortable with the choices they make. A mother working outside the home often feels guilty because it is not possible to be there with her children at all times. A stay-at-home mom may worry that she has wasted the thousands of dollars she put into her education and lament the fact that her family may have to make financial sacrifices. The easiest way to ease that guilt is to throw barbs at someone who has chosen opposite her situation.

Until we recognize that neither choice is easy and that very few of us live a charmed life, the Mommy Wars will continue to make headlines. The time has come to stop pointing fingers and start supporting each other for the decisions we make. After all, no one should criticize a woman until they have walked a mile in her pumps, or her Keds.

Playing Politics With Dr. Suess

I thought Americans had really gone off the deep end over the election four years ago. Grab your life preservers and nose plugs, folks, because here we go again.

If you thought the rhetoric and ridiculous claims were bad in the last election, you ain't heard nothing yet. Apparently Fox News' Lou Dobbs was ranting earlier this week over the movie "The Lorax". He claims it is an attempt by the Obama administration to push an environmentalist agenda and spread "propaganda" about sharing.

How dare we teach our children to share and care about the earth. The horror of it all.

First of all, I really have to give kudos to Obama for his influence on a book that was written in 1971, approximately 41 years before he took office. Now that's power.

More to the point, have we really become so polarized that we have to make a political statement out of Dr. Suess? Theodor Geisel was certainly an influential writer, but I must of missed the communist propaganda in "Green Eggs and Ham".

I used to read my kids "One Fish, Two Fish. Red Fish, Blue Fish" all the time. Does that make me a socialist for dividing the fish equally or a member of the Nazi party for singling them out by color?

I would hope that people who hear rhetoric this ridiculous would step back and reevaluate why they base their opinions on political pundits instead of taking the time to do some research and come to their own conclusions. I have a feeling I would be disappointed.

I bet if I look hard enough, I can find an "agenda" in many of our children's classics. I dug a few out of the attic just to prove my point.

"Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See" by Eric Carle is clearly about voyeurism. All of those animals spying on each other are obviously teaching children that they could have lucrative careers as Peeping Toms.

"If You Give A Mouse A Cookie" by Laura Numeroff is pure socialism. Look what happens when you give too many handouts. We end up with a society of unappreciative mice demanding more freebies, hogging our remotes and raiding our refrigerators.

The worst has to be "Pat The Bunny" by Dorothy Kunhardt. Imagine a book encouraging children to chase down and manhandle rabbits for all these years. I'm surprised PETA isn't burning copies and holding boycotts outside of Barnes and Noble.

I'm not sure if I should be more worried about a world that would use a children's movie to promote a political agenda, or the fact that I read my children all of those disturbing books when they were small.

Let's hope Lou Dobbs doesn't get wind of these controversial works of literature. After all, with gas prices approaching $4 a gallon and unemployment still in the double digits, discussing the radical views of children's books and movies such as "The Lorax" sure seems relevant.

Memories of JoePa

It is with great sadness that I heard of the passing of former Penn State Coach Joe Paterno this morning.

The debate continues about Paterno's role in the Penn State scandal allegedly perpetrated by former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky. Questions regarding how much Paterno knew and whether he should have done more will undoubtedly cloud his legacy for a long time.

In my mind, however, the world has lost a great man.

How many football coaches alive today have donated their own money to upgrade a university library? How many of them have not taken a salary in over a decade, preferring instead to donate that money back to the university? How many can boast such a high graduation rate among their players?

Beyond all of that, it is the personal connections to Paterno I will remember the most. He was not just a figurehead, but an actual presence on that campus. It was not unusual to see him walking around the grounds on an ordinary day. I had the privilege of sitting next to him and his family at a mass on campus one Sunday.

My fondest memory will be the one summer when I was taking classes and staying in the dorms. During dinner in the dining hall, I was seated with a group of girls in a semi-circle around one of the tables. A male acquaintance walked by and said it looked like we were forming a panel to rate guys.

It suddenly occurred to us that this was a great idea. Someone donned pens and paper and we retired to the quad area outside the dining hall, faced the lawn chairs toward the hall entrance and proceeded to rate guys as they walked in and out on a scale of one to ten. We were nice for the most part--I don't remember anyone getting less than a seven.

We had been at this for about a half hour when who should walk by but Coach Paterno himself, heading into the dining hall to join his players. Someone shouted "Give that man a ten!" We all did, of course, along with a loud chorus of whistles and cheers. This earned us a smile and a wave from Paterno.

The world may remember the coach. The world may recall the scandal that unceremoniously ousted him from his job. I will choose to remember the man.

Coach, you will always be a "ten" in my eyes.

Rent-An-Elf

Here it is five days before Christmas. Is it time to panic yet?

I just got the last of my cards out. My baking is not done. The online items I ordered have not all arrived. I still need to find stocking stuffers. Not to mention the pile of gifts that still need wrapping.

I saw a commercial for a retailer that stated "Santa has elves. You have Target." Forget Target. Where can I find a few elves?

Santa should branch out into the personal service industry. He could make a fortune. There must be thousands out there like me who see the giant Christmas clock ticking and are using every bit of self-self control available to avoid a nervous breakdown in the middle of Walmart.

Imagine if you could order an elf for the holiday season to do your shopping, wrapping, cleaning and baking. We could spend the days leading up to Christmas drinking eggnog and watching endless reruns of "Miracle on 34th Street." All stress would melt away as we order a tiny person to cook a five-course dinner and kick fellow shoppers in the kneecaps while fighting the crowds for this year's hot item at Toys R Us.

Unfortunately, the odds of finding elves to do our bidding is as likely as Santa leaving a maid, a million dollars and a house in the Virgin Islands underneath my Christmas tree. We must face the holiday crunch time alone.

I do, however, have something that Santa does not: children. I am starting to think my 14-year-old son would look good in an apron. I think the time has come to share with them one of the joys of the holiday season--the wonder of manual labor.

Santa may have elves, but I have offspring.

We Were. . . Penn State

Anyone who has ever set foot inside Beaver Stadium on a football Saturday at Penn State can attest to the fact that the mood is electrifying.

When half of the stadium yells "We Are" while the other half echoes "Penn State!", the atmosphere in Happy Valley is more than the combined efforts of 100,000 plus fans cheering on their team. It is a reflection of the belief these fans hold in their football team and its coach. It is also a statement of pride for the integrity of the university that sponsors them.

Scandal is nothing new to college football. And Penn State certainly is not immune to the pressure that any top-level collegiate team is under to perform at its best and, above all, win.

The difference has been the refusal of its coach and athletic department to bend to that "win at any cost" philosophy. In the past, there have been players who were placed on academic probation, were involved in questionable behaviors on or off campus or have been proven to accept gifts from boosters. They either were suspended or dismissed from the team. There were no attempts to make excuses or circumvent regulations.

The fact is that Penn State Coach Joe Paterno understood something that many others do not: that winning a game at the cost of your integrity is no victory at all.

That philosophy seems to have been lost amidst scandal now that allegations of child molestation have been brought against former Penn State defensive coordinator Jerry Sandusky. Sandusky allegedly abused young boys that he "mentored" under the guise of a charity he started for underprivileged young men.

This action in itself is inexcusable. Worse yet is the fact that university officials knew of these accusations. How much they knew is unclear, but their behavior most definitely must come into question. Even Paterno is not unscathed since he reported an incident of abuse witnessed in 2002 by a member of his staff to athletic director Tim Curley.

Granted, Paterno was relaying something second-hand and had no authority over Sandusky, who had retired several years earlier. But Paterno also knew of his close affiliations with children. Wouldn't you, at the very least, follow up with university officials on the status of the investigation? And why did no one bother to report this incident to authorities?

Curley and Penn State Senior Vice President Gary Schultz, both of whom have been implicated in covering up the scandal, have departed the university. Rumors abound that President Graham Spanier and Paterno himself will be next.

I have been following this story in the press, on Facebook and on Twitter. I can say that, as a Penn State alum, this has rocked us all to the core. No one is defending the actions of the university. No one is placing the blame on the the victims themselves, the police, NCAA regulations, or any of the other nonsense that usually crops up in college sports scandals.

We are upset. We are disheartened. Above all, we all share in the embarrassment brought upon our university. We are demanding justice for the victims.

It is disheartening to know that our beloved Penn State, in which our very alma mater states "may no act of ours bring shame," is affiliated with such a horrible situation.

On behalf of all Penn Staters, I apologize to these young men whose lives have been ruined, possibly at the cost of Penn State's desire to protect its reputation. You deserved better. College athletics deserve better. Above all, those of us who love Penn State--and now mourn the loss of some of that Nittany Lion pride--deserve an explanation.

Words Of Wisdom

Storytelling is an art that preceded that of the written word. Generation after generation has benefited from the wisdom and experiences of their elders.

My family is no different. We enjoy sharing stories and passing our knowledge on to the young. Our experiences, however, are less like words of wisdom and more like some episode you may have seen on the MTV series Jackass.

Nevertheless, when gathered with some good friends following a recent family wedding, we decided that our words of advice could benefit future generations. At the very least, they will lead far less embarrassing lives than their ancestors.

So, in an effort to preserve our family wisdom for posterity, I give you these sage words:

Don't fry bacon naked.

Don't put dishwashing liquid in a dishwasher unless you want a room full of suds.

Make sure you put your car in park when stopping at a drive-thru.

Even if an approaching train is going only five miles per hour, do not cross the tracks in front of it. In spite of what you might think, the train engineer is not waving you across the tracks.

Never clean a coffeemaker by running bleach through it.

Don't clean a fiberglass tub with steel wool.

Do not iron clothes while they are still on your body.

Never get drunk and dance with priests (don't ask).

Do not melt Limburger cheese in a microwave.

Leave bikini waxes to the professionals.

Don't put apple pies on the floor to cool unless you want them decorated with footprints.

Never test a staple gun on your fingers.

Hopefully, our experiences will have a lasting effect on the lives and well-being of future generations. After all, no one wants to go down that great highway of life with their dress tucked up inside their pantyhose. It almost caused an accident.

Stupid Groundhog

Here we are, barely a month past Groundhog Day, when Punxsutawney Phil's shadow did not appear and he declared an early spring was on its way.

Looking out my window, there is a fresh layer of snow on the ground and the temperature is 32 degrees.

I do not wear fur, but at this point I would be willing to make an exception for Phil.

Where is our early spring? Where are the daffodils that are supposed to be peeking up through the ground? Is Phil perhaps getting too old and is eyesight is failing?

Maybe I should cut Phil some slack because he is, after all, just a groundhog. These creatures are better known for digging holes in our yards and running out in front of our cars than for their meteorological prowess.

In the immortal words of Today Show weatherman Al Roker, "What do you expect when you trust a rodent in a hole?"

I often wonder how the tradition of Groundhog Day got started. Who decided that a groundhog's shadow could predict when winter would end? Surely it was not the groundhog himself. Ever watch the Groundhog Day ceremony in Punxsutawney? They drag that poor thing practically kicking and screaming out of box just to check if he casts a reflection on the ground. If you don't like being awakened from a sound sleep, imagine how the groundhog feels.

Perhaps, like us, our ancestors were just grasping at straws looking for some reflief from the long, cold winter days. Some poor, unsuspecting groundhog stuck his head out a hole, looked around and decided it was not worth freezing his behind off to come out of his nice, cozy den. Some farmer probably witnessed this event, and a holiday was born.

So let us give groundhogs everywhere a break and stop blaming them for the extended winter weather. Spring will come in its own time.

Until then, I am going to take Phil's advice. I will be sleeping for the next three weeks. Wake me when spring gets here.