Thursday, April 29, 2010

Food for thought: Sunshine chronicles one family's intergerational story of motherhood

One college summer in the 90s (when we lived in different cities), Jim and I swore off television.  It was too easy to fall into a cavern of sitcoms when working 40+ hours a week in the fast food industry.  The safety valve for our media-obsessed hearts was an exception for PBS.  At the time we made the agreement, the PBS clause felt like agreeing that we could eat our fill of baby carrots: wholesome and oppressively dull.

While the agreement ended up dramatically reducing our overall television time and cultivating a load of in-jokes about Jack Horkheimer's trippy astronomy program, it also gave us hours of engaging conversation about great documentaries.

In my opinion, PBS has only improved since the 90s.  Nova's episode on cuttlefish introduced me to the geek of the seas.  I now admire the clever little cephalopod despite my general repulsion for mollusks.  A documentary on the last day of Herculeaneum (the town smothered by Versuvius' explosion) started an important internal dialog regarding fear, disaster, and extinction.

PBS consistently shows me unusual perspectives that spur different considerations of the universe.  Independent Lens is a household favorite because we live over 2 hours from any independent cinemas that show documentaries.  Every Tuesday offers the opportunity of seeing an independent filmmaker chronicle some aspect of human life.

On Tuesday, May 4th (check your local listings) Karen Skloss' autobiographical Sunshine chronicles two women who find themselves unmarried and pregnant during college.  One, a young woman in the 1970s (and not incidentally, Skloss' birth mother), does not tell her parents, moves to a home for unwed mothers, and gives the baby (Skloss) up for adoption.  The second woman (filmmaker Skloss) chooses, in the 90s, to raise her child as a single parent sharing responsibilities with the father.

The contrast between the mothers' choices and experiences is engaging, but (for me) the incredible social change regarding unwed/single motherhood in just one generation is astounding.



At one point Skloss and her birth mother visit the now deserted home for unwed mothers.  A former staff member guides them and comments that although there are still young pregnant women, the home became obsolete and was replaced with service centers.  They ponder when and how mores shifted to bring single motherhood out of quiet cloisters and into the mainstream.

Community ends up taking a central role in the film.  Skloss' Catholic parents love and support their daughter and granddaughter despite ideological differences regarding her single motherhood.  The father of Skloss' daughter articulately compares single fatherhood to single motherhood.  Skloss' birth mother, aunt, and grandfather open their lives to Skloss and her cameras.  The viewer sees the community that supported the birth mother's decision to give up her child, the community that supports Skloss in keeping her child, and the present day community of the birth mother.

For all the single mother is discussed in the news, the conversation rarely transcends stereotypes and statistics.  Sunshine offers a personal perspective that illuminates a cultural need to talk more effectively about parenting without partners.

When I read the excellent Queen Bee Moms and King Pin Dads, Wiseman's observation that the single mom is the most likely target for exclusion in a parent community surprised me.  It makes sense though that we may struggle with people whose position we cannot easily articulate.  And while we have brought unwed mothers into the light redefined as single mothers, social structure hasn't made many accommodations.

The film spurred some household discussions about current attitudes toward domestic adoption.  At times, the film presents the idea of parents giving up unplanned children as antiquated.  Maybe domestic adoption fell out of practice after the highly publicized adoption reversals of the 1990s, but (as the great-grandchild of an adopted son) I truly hope adoption remains a viable choice today.

Watch the show next Tuesday and let us know what you think.

***Baby Toolkit is the hobby blog of geek parents who would otherwise squander their time watching television and boring their family, friends, neighbors, and coworkers with all its incredible content.  Instead we now pester you with it.  DICLOSURE: PBS' Independent Lens sent us a preview disc so we could watch Sunshine in advance (rather than saying "hey, did you catch that great show in May?" sometime around August).  Being on Independent Lens' advance viewer list makes us very happy, but probably has minimal cash value.  We received a burned DVD and a brochure (total value: $3 with a huge side of happiness).  We are also Amazon affiliates, so if you buy through our links (thank you!) a portion of your purchase goes to power the syndicate that is Baby Toolkit.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Hey, you guys! Baby Toolkit is no longer grounded

I should explain our recent radio silence.  For months, I have owed a car seat and stroller review to our friends at ZRecs.  In March, I decided to ground myself from Baby Toolkit until I handed in my homework.

This weekend I completed the review.  It's mammoth.  It has videos.

In other news, I've been exploring the outside world.  Through happy circumstance I stumbled into a really motivating exercise class.

Friends have visited, games have been played, books have been read, movies have been watched, gadgets have been utilized, problems have been hacked, and lots of food has been eaten.

One nice thing about time in the outside world is that it gives us a lot of inspiration for blogging.

Hang onto your hats, people!  We may start posting with intensity.  Once, maybe even twice a week.

So what have you been up to?

P.S. We also redecorated the blog, so if you feedreader folks want to stop by and tell us how much you miss the old 565 Blogger template, we're happy to hear your thoughts.

***Baby Toolkit is the independent opinion of some slackers who periodically write about geek parenting.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Listen-Along Storybook contest ends tonight!

Have you entered our contest to win all 8 books currently featured at listenalongstorybook.com? It ends at midnight tonight (CDT).

[Contest has ended.]

And find more great contests at Prizey.net.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Write a Letter Right Now: The Blessing of Paper Correspondence

Around two weeks ago, I got a surprise package in the mail. The sender included many thoughtful gifts for our family, but I most loved the enclosed letter from my friend.

Her handwriting, humor, and forthright personality reminded me that despite substantial distance and the passage of time, my friend and I still exist in each other's daily lives. Small actions (like the habit of tearing plastic windows out of envelopes before recycling), gestures, and environmental cues (book titles, dog breeds, places) offer me perpetual reminders of people I don't see as often as I would like.

I encourage you to pick up a pen and drop a line to someone who might enjoy hearing from you.

When I wrote my friend back by hand, it was a real shift from typing at my keyboard. I banned myself from looking up anything online during the duration of the letter (book titles were the true agony). It was strange to commit ideas to the page, and I found myself working more deliberately. The easy pace and ability to commit myself wholly to the letter was relaxing and joyful. Ranger and I added a few thumbprint embellishments a la Ed Emberley and I even doodled an ocean scene on the back of the envelope. It was the most luxurious way I have passed an hour in months. My life felt so much less harried because I had the available time to put pen to paper.

I mailed her letter a week ago. Yesterday, in a modern postal miracle, there were three handwritten pieces of mail for me. With the gladness of those special notes, I sat down last night and penned a letter to someone who can makes me laugh so hard my ribs hurt. Knowing my friend's insanely busy life, I don't expect a reply. I want her to know that I miss her and she still makes me smile all the time.

This could turn out to be addictive.

Who could you write today?

***Baby Toolkit is the sometimes slapdash answer to what happens when a couple of tragically unhip geeks have kids. We are Amazon affiliates, so a small portion of purchases through our Amazon links does power the Baby Toolkit industrial complex (domain names and DSL service).