End the Chinese Trade Deficit -- Ban the Goody Bag

After a couple of weekends of birthday parties and Valentine's Day a very recent memory, small utterly useless and instantly breakable tschochkes litter the apartment. I live in the midst of a neighborhood that values educational toys -- especially those handcrafted with certified organic vegetable compound paint by fair-traded artisans in non-Chinese third world countries -- and yet, plastic yo yos that cannot even manage one "yo," little maze games where the thingy that shoots the ball doesn't retract and unsharpenable pencils mark every event.

Goody bags are the base expectation of all children, part of this whole self esteem movement I suppose. Our kids are so precious that every moment of their childhoods must come with it's own unique collection of crap. Even Valentine's day -- which I remember as a few mangy construction paper hearts stuck in collapsing mailboxes we "crafted," now comes with candy and more stuff glued to the cards. I've heard much of the gift giving culture of Japan, and experienced the rituals that go on in Greece and Romania and fear that we are creating a market for useless things and children who see all toys as disposable but expected.

The clearinghouse for all things goody bag is a smart organization called Oriental Trading (http://www.orientaltrading.com)/ that abides by no SPAM laws. If you're a mom, they find you and they mail you. If worst of all somewhere online you entered your kids birthday, the emails come cleverly close to when you need to deal with the party issue. Even if you've planned a modest, in-home affair, your kid has been ingrained to believe that all parties have themes, and Oriental Trading is there to supply. From superheroes to My Pretty Pony Pinatas -- they sell it all, even the fillers cause it's so damn hard to get those mini-sized candies in every grocery and drug store.

I've done my own small part by initiating a "ban the bag" movement with mixed success. (This is another topic you cannot mention to other parents as they are either very pro or very anti, and it's impossible to predict.) One year I went online and designed by own version of the "718" t-shirt which Brooklyn hipsters started wearing in the late '90s to designate their independence from the island and area code of Manhattan. Only get this, it was supposed to be a bowling shirt, cause we were have a bowling themed party and of course actually played bowling at this weird alley across from the huge cemetary where the woman who serves the platters of fried stuff, snaps gum and calls you "hon." The irony of the shirt of course was lost on the kids and even though I had tied them into a nice package with a ribbon, one kid said "is this it?" before being yanked off by their parent.

I did better with a nice marker set for the girl birthday this year -- though one parent noted that I should have included our truly favorite product, the Magic Wall Eraser, a 5 star product according to e-pinions (http://www.epinions.com/content_152645504644). It's made by Mr Clean, but now also sold in a generic version 2 for $1.19 at Duane Reade!.

When it came time for my son's birthday, I fell down on the job and succumbed to the lure of cheap Chinese merchandise. His is over the Christmas break and I kind of had a lot to do and couldn't think of or find anthing useful after the usual holiday glut. So, I went to the emporium of true crap: the 99 Cent Store. (Hope I'm not doing something like ratting on Santa Claus' real identity, but most of the merchandize there is actually made for these stores so it can be packaged and sold in 99 cent sizes.) I got packs of glitter glue for the girls -- so evil of me to be sex specific in my neighborhood -- and boy child picked out the close-out of Johnny Depp as the flagrant pirate character puzzles. The latter was truly unuseful but at least there was no plastic, it cost 99 cents and could be recycled, or in my case, used as a particularly effective fire starter.

Gossip Moms

In Park Slope admitting to liking trash TV is akin to revealing you went to a public university or worked in advertising -- both of which I have done. While I am out of the phase of the sancti-mommy who rejects buspore (sp?) laced baby bottles (are all those Avant bottles leaching away in the Fresh Kills landfill) and will only feed Isabella or Oliver hand-pureed Co-Op vegetables -- I am now in the realm of the "we reject all popular culture." I continually draw blank stares when I make references to Gossip Girl, which should horrify any parent with a teenager and which I must surreptitiously watch.

For the unenlightened, Gossip Girl is Dynasty set in an Upper East Side prep school where everyone dresses fabulously and the plot is roughly based on your standard Romeo & Juliette scenario, except the guy from the wrong side of the track hails from Williamsburgh. But wait, current revelations include that his dad and his girlfriend's mom had a love child together back when he was in an early '90s Morrissey-like band. Lest anyone get bummed out by this Faulknerian twist of fate, said love kid supposedly died. We of course know that he lurks someone just waiting to meet his dating half-siblings with their crazy ass designer clothes, constantly flowing Dom Perignon and Hamptonian summers.

High-end escapism aside, Gossip Girl is the first show to be driven by modern modes of communication, most significantly texting and a blog written by an anonymous person at the school that all the "heathers" feed info to. You can't sneak a joint in a bathroom or buy a pregnancy test at a pharmacy without photos of it from camera phones getting all over the school.

Now that I haunt the hallways of my kids P.S. at least 2x per day, Gossip Girl is becoming more real than ever, except our clothes suck and makeup is frowned upon. On the clothing front, the stay at home moms favor the P.S. XXX brand -- nicely designed by a local parent/graphic designer -- or aging Brooklyn Industries "718" shirts, bags and Michelin man-style down coats (didn't these suck the first time around? why are they back?). Love the fact that all items from this supposedly-local company are indeed made in China.

School gossip usually revolves around who is falsifying their address to be in the school, the new crop of kindergarten parents who moved here from Manhattan from the school and absolutely know that the needs of their "gifted and talented" child are not being met, and one mom who always appears in full maquillage, high heeled boots and is resolutely hot. While the majority of moms have the distinct "flat boob" appearance that comes from breast feeding too long -- hers are perky with full cleavage on display. Yes, I will admit envy. I was told by a mammographer that I had only glandular tissue and no fat in them any more. So humiliating to buy an undergarment and have it labeled "your first bra."

I'm still not sure where I fit into the rank and file of the school and in my unemployed status I'm still getting "what are you doing picking up your kid" looks at 3PM. I also break the playdate no spontaneity rule. Yesterday I performed the humiliating act of showing up and seeing if anyone was free, which is akin to sitting with a Gunny Saxe dress and flashing your braces at an 8th grade dance and hoping just hoping someone will ask you to dance the guitar solo part of Stairway to Heaven. Indeed, between all the afterschool "my daughter is in the most marvelous tutoring program so she can begin reading Faulkner at 5", the Chinese lessons, the yoga for kids -- yes, children are capable of downward facing dog -- I turned up empty handed in the playdate department. Pumpkin bread baking remedied the problem. Today I have scored the requisite appointments and have a home baked treat on offer. But wait, I failed big time as I admitted to the parent of playdate kid that at 5 PM mine religiously watch a TV show -- albeit a cartoon with Christopher Lloyd about math.

Don't judge me about kid PBS consumption...my question to all those pop culture hating moms is why does your 5 year old daughter know the plot of every High School Musical movie and that Sasha and Malia had the Jonas Brothers at their treasure hunt in the White House?

XOXO (thinly veiled Gossip Girl reference)
Gossip Mom

P.S. Lest you think I overstate the case for the above TV show, it's a 20 something obsession that rose through New York Magazine intern blogs to become a cover story for them. http://nymag.com/tags/the%20greatest%20show%20of%20our%20time

This Week's Body Count:

• Pairs of kid jeans repaired with iron-on patches: 2 -- there's a recession on
• Blissful meal with two friends sans kids at hot new restaurant Buttermilk Channel -- we're denying there's a recession on -- +10
• Speed shopping at Fairway Red Hook: 28 minutes, but forgot the butter and broke the eggs going over a pothole -- +5
• Developed sorting system for small plastic objects: people vs. cars, vs. flying vehicles vs animals. Question: do aliens fit in the animal or people box -- +20