Fashion

Courtesy of www.inhabitots.com

It turns out attachment parenting isn’t scandalous at all, though some still consider it to be. In my opinion, it’s the healthiest form of parenting for a child and it’s how I am raising my second son, Daniel. But, I have still received criticism from friends and even some family members for my choice.

Consider the history of attachment parenting…

During World War Two when Americans were stationed in Okinawa, they discovered a very curious phenomenon. At the time, the people of Okinawa had no known incidence of mental health problems. Depression and anxiety disorders were unknown. This was a very happy culture, indeed. Americans took a closer look at how children were being raised, and they observed that babies were worn by mothers, and slept in mother’s beds, and were always with siblings or older family members. No one was ever alone and affection was liberally given to all children of all ages.

This observation coincided with a study by the WHO. In 1950, the World Health Organization sponsored a study called “Maternal Care and Mental Health”. This is the study which promoted the now-famous Harry Harlow to experiment with Rhesus monkeys in finding out the effects of maternal separation on infants.

The experiment went as follows:

“In Harlow’s classic experiment, two groups of baby rhesus monkeys were removed from their mothers. In the first group, a terrycloth mother provided no food, while a wire mother did, in the form of an attached baby bottle containing milk. In the second group, a terrycloth mother provided food; the wire mother did not. It was found that the young monkeys clung to the terrycloth mother whether or not it provided them with food, and that the young monkeys chose the wire surrogate only when it provided food. Whenever a frightening stimulus was brought into the cage, the monkeys ran to the cloth mother for protection and comfort, no matter which mother provided them with food.” (1)

The study continued:

“When the monkeys were placed in an unfamiliar room with their cloth surrogate, they clung to it until they felt secure enough to explore. Once they began to explore, they occasionally returned to the cloth mother for comfort. Monkeys placed in an unfamiliar room without their cloth mothers acted very differently. They froze in fear and cried, crouched down, or sucked their thumbs. Some even ran from object to object, apparently searching for the cloth mother, as they cried and screamed. Monkeys placed in this situation with their wire mothers exhibited the same behavior as the monkeys with no mother.” (1)

One of the most important findings of this study was that it contradicted the traditional advice of child-reading at the time, which was to limit physical contact with the mother. It was believed that too much physical contact between infant and mother would result in spoiled and needy children who would never find independence as autonomous beings.

It was also thought at the time that feeding was the most important factor in mother-child bonding, not physical affection. And this was also a time when formula companies were pressing mothers to formula feed and not even consider breast-feeding their infants. Breast feeding was considered vulgar by upwardly mobile society and formula was considered as the logical advance in feeding and it was also considered to be more nutritious than mother’s milk.

Continue reading »

Rate this post!

(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

“The Voice of Kindness”

These swans can be found peppering ancient Chinese, Russian, Irish and even Japanese fairy tales and folklore. This swan has made an indelable impression on the human consciousness and experience itself.

Rate this post!

(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

“Prince Branches Out”

PRINCE FETCHES A BRANCH IN HIS MOUTH TO PRESENT TO ME AS NESTING MATERIAL FOR MY ‘HOUSE’

Even though it’s now late February and Spring hasn’t quite yet set in, Prince is getting a hankering to court again and to hunker down with the girl of his dreams.  The days are growing longer, the morning air is more balmy than usual, and the song birds have returned.  That’s enough of a cue for Prince to try to win the affections of the swan he has set his eye on– after all he follows nature’s cues and doesn’t pay attention to mere calendars, for heavens sake!

…AND ANOTHER BRANCH

And so, Prince starts the process of searching the shallow lake bottom for twigs and other nesting materials to present as gifts to the girl he is hoping to win over.

Continue reading »

Rate this post!

(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

“So What Do You Say When a Member of the Senate Committee Says They Were Viciously Attacked By a Swan?”

Swan-at-Large Attacking Anonymous Victim’s Ankle(www.panaramio.com)

My neighbor Bill was working hard with one of our state senators, Derek Kilmer, to draft a new bill to allow Sylvia Lake to obtain a new friend for Prince.  The bill number was 6625 and was slated to be heard on the first day of the new session.

Glenda, her husband Gordon, my son Daniel, and myself all carpooled down to Olympia on that Monday, armed with a picture calendar I had put together of Prince, along with various photographs and newspaper articles.  I wore one of my black corporate suits and Italian leather shoes.

We met Bill and his wife Pat outside of the senate committee room and then shuffled in to have a pre-session meeting with the senator who was sponsoring this bill.  The senator’s half-joking remark was, “I hope sponsoring this swan bill is NOT my swan song”.  We all laughed.

Several others had shown up from the neighborhood to show support.  We huddled before entering the committee room and it was decided that Bill and I would be the two people to speak before the senate committee.  We were advised not to have prepared speeches, as time would be of the essence.  The committee had many new bills to consider that day, and ours was considered ‘less important’ than the others.

At 1:45 it was our turn to speak, and I sent Glenda out of the conference room with my son Daniel.  I didn’t want a crying 15-month old interrupting the meeting.

Continue reading »

Rate this post!

(2 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

Prince’s Famous Wing-Dance That He Performs to Woo The Ladies

Thirty days later, the cygnets hatched, but they were immediately transported to an animal rescue by Fish and Wildlife to assess their health. One of the representatives at Fish and Wildlife was putting things into motion so we could pick the cygnets up after their wings were clipped and after they were given a clean bill of health. I couldn’t wait to cuddle these little bundles of feather and down and I was preparing a permanent home for them on my property.

But, then, Fish and Wildlife stalled, and when Bill checked into it, he received a rather upsetting email back from them.

It seems a committee of representatives from Fish and Wildlife assembled before even consulting with us. And during their meeting, they made the executive decision to have the baby swans euthanized. We never had any warning.

Bill was notified via email that all of the cygnets were euthanized when they were only a week old. They never left the animal rescue alive.

When I got the news, I felt shattered. Not only were we back at square one with finding more swans for the lake, my dream of three little fluffy cygnets to whom I would play Mommy was also shattered. With all of the ‘nesting’ hormones coursing through my own veins, I took the news rather badly. I stifled tears all day long, and sometimes broke into long sobs. The thought of three beautiful lives being snuffed out “just like that” was just too much for me to take.

Prince “Running” Across the Water to Meet Me For His Daily Feeding

That’s when Bill decided to pull out all of the stops and let the local media know the situation here at Sylvia Lake. We also got our state representatives involved.

We assembled our own meeting with Derek Kilmer, Larry Seaquist, and Jan Angel. They met a large group of us homeowners at the lake and we told them our story. I also provided a demonstration of how Prince runs across the water when I call, how he takes food gently from my hands, and how he bows his head when I sing. Prince performed beautifully for a group of about 50 people. I was so proud of him!!

Prince Bowing His Head While I Sing the “Alleluja” Song by Michael W. Smith

Our state representatives sympathized with our plight and they ended up starting the process of introducing a bill to the state legislature. The bill would state that mute swans were no longer deleterious species and that homeowners would be allowed to own swans who had clipped wings and who were sexually altered; or they could own swans that were all of the same gender so that they had no reproductive capacity.

Prince Scratching His Head With His Right Foot
(If you look to your left, you’ll see part of his black webbed foot next to his head)

All along, we did not think that we would have to actually take our case to our state representatives. However, because we had made no headway with Fish and Wildlife for over a two-year period, we had to take our plight to the next highest authority– and that authority was the state government itself. We were unintentionally starting a grass-roots movement for the on-going welfare of mute swans.

Prince Is Still Hopeful That He Will Find New Love Even in His Old Age

The story of our plight spread, and pretty soon, our local ABC affiliate, KOMO-4 news, was camped out in front of my house doing a story about Prince. As will happen many times with the media, they will put their own spin on a story, even after they have heard the whole story. Their spin on the story was “Someday Prince’s Prince May Come”.

You see, long after Princess died, we found out that she had incidentally been a male. And that fact actually would explain a lot. It would explain why “Princess” would come up to my house to visit me, because perhaps ’she’ was courting me the same way Prince had started to court me. It would also explain why people who had lived at the lake for 20 years reported seeing the swans building separate nests on several occasions. They would refer to these occasions as “marital spats” between the swans as they had always assumed Princess was female. When really, it seems they were both building separate nests to attract a random female who might happen to fly by in the spring. This would also explain why there were no cygnets and no observable mating behavior between these two swans in the spring. Sure, they would tend a nest together occasionally and take turns sitting on a rock, but they never did mating dances or stayed as close together as mating pairs normally do. These swans were more like “The Odd Couple” than “I Love Lucy”.

KOMO-4 news decided to run with the fact that Princess turned out to be a ‘Prince’ and they ended up making a rather humorous piece about it, even if it wasn’t remotely the whole story.

Here’s the link to their video where Prince receives his 2 minutes and 45 seconds worth of fame:

http://www.komonews.com/news/local/82119597.html?tab=video

The state legislature was ready to come into session and Bill and I were preparing to go down and speak at the preliminary hearings. Prince’s story was far from over, and besides, he still has 12 minutes and 15 seconds worth of fame to go!!

(Stay tuned for part 11)

- Sarah Polyakov

Rate this post!

(5 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

Wanted: Well-aged gentleman seeks lonely hearted-lady with similar interests and tastes in life. You must love fresh flowers which I will present to you at regular intervals– especially in Spring when the lily pads are in full bloom. You must love long strolls on the lake, and have impeccable grooming habits. I especially appreciate a lady who had a round, full tail of feathers and who loves to wag them often and enthusiastically. Also, you must not be allergic to cat-tails, as my current dwelling is comprised thereof. Being over the age of 18 is also a plus, since I appreciate a lady with maturity. Signed, Your Lonely Prince-Charming-To-Be.

Remember the two young female mute swans we had lined up for Prince? The girls who were in a small apartment complex lake. Well, those two girls were young– less than a year old to be exact– and their wings weren’t clipped. They decided to ‘fly’ the proverbial ‘coop’ and they left the lake, never to be seen again.

Fish and Wildlife had re-evaluated Prince’s case, and deciding he wasn’t a threat to the environment, or the ducks, or small children, or anything else, and they decided to let him stay on our lake. After, all the only thing the amorous Prince was a ‘threat’ to was un-suspecting ladies like myself who he decided to woo with lake flowers and cat-tails. He wasn’t a picky male, since he was willing to woo a human like me, if a swan wasn’t available. Prince was lonely and he needed an outlet for his amorous feelings, even if his outlet was a 5′6″, 37-year old human female, like myself. Not only was he amenable to my height, my weight and age, he was willing to over-look the fact that I possessed no tail full of feathers, or that I wasn’t even a bird.

Prince was getting lonely and the search was back on for more suitable females within the state. It turns out that Ricky and Lucy, the swan parents of the two young girls who flew the coop, were back nesting and waiting for a new batch of cygnets to hatch.

Bill, my neighbor, jumped at the opportunity and started working with Fish and Wildlife again to get permission to purchase and transport another swan– the swans that would hatch in less than 30-days. In Bill’s letter to F&W, he clearly stated that our HOA would pay for the clipping of the wings and also for the physical alteration of the female swan so that we wouldn’t have a breeding pair.

Having a breeding pair of swans had become more than taboo at that point, since the state of Washington was trying to get rid of ALL mute swans. Oregon had already done something similar, and California was following close in step. The issue was these states wanted the native Trumpeter swan to re-establish territory and they were afraid mute swans would be competition for resources. No mind that humans were quickly building homes on wetland habitats that these swans would normally inhabit. I saw it more as a human problem for trumpeters to re-establish than a mute swan problem. How, after all, was a trumpeter swan supposed to re-establish if humans took away all of it’s habit? It was not likely, but the state, instead of blaming humans, decided to target the mute swan as the scape-goat for Trumpeter’s not re-establishing their homes in our state.

So, Bill was brave enough to take-on the red-tape of bureaucracy and start writing letters to the powers that be so that we could obtain another mate for Prince.

Meanwhile, my neighbor Glenda and I were very worried about the swan’s spirits, so we took turns with feedings. She fed him faithfully at 8am every morning, and spent quality time with him. And, I fed him in the late afternoon. Prince became quite a Romeo and started warming up to both of us. He had wing-dances for Glenda early in the morning. And, for me, he had freshly plucked cat-tails in the evening. Glenda and I mused that he was the only male we knew who was happy to see us, even if we were wearing a bathrobe and curlers, sans make-up.

Yup, Prince was quite a catch.

Bill started to make in-roads with Fish and Wildlife, and they soon gave us the impression that they would allow us to take up to three new-born cygnets on to the lake. Bill asked me if I would build housing for them and be their caretakers until they got used to the lake. I was pregnant with my second son at the time and Mommy Hormones were coursing through my veins. Of course, I would build a house, and a nest, and everything else, and probably cuddle these babies too, once they arrived. I was happier than a clam. I was even picking out baby blankets for these new cygnets. Yes, Mommy Hormones will mess with your mind!!

But, we still had about 30 days before these babies hatched, and I bided my time, researching how to build appropriate shelter and care for new baby swans that would soon be mine.

(Stay tuned for part 10)

- Sarah Polyakov

Rate this post!

(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

All of the plants in my Japanese garden were frozen solid. The sky was an ice-blue and that was bad news. When it’s sunny here in winter, the temperature DROPS. The air was very still and the ice was thick. No birds were in the sky and all had fallen into a deep silence.

I trudged out to feed Prince whose water hole was holding up. The breaking of the ice that my husband did was keeping enough open water to keep him from freezing to death. Swans have very thick water-proof down which can keep them warm in even the coldest weather. As long as Prince was getting fed, he would survive. And, out of sheer necessity, I became a better bread pitcher during that week.

When Prince saw me he called to me and did an enormous tail wag and wing dance. He looked as excited as a cocker Spaniel seeing it’s owner after a day on his own. He was wagging his tail vigorously and splashing water everywhere. It was good to see he had high spirits amidst being marooned on the ice for well over a week now. He ate heartily and I returned home.

It’s always interesting to me how things that happen in childhood can trigger strong emotions in us later. And we many times we aren’t even able to pin-point the original cause.

That day, my parents were cleaning out a spare room and they dropped off some of my grandparent’s photo albums. These were flip albums from the 70’s and they smelled of my grandmother’s delicate rose scented hand cream. It was comforting to flip through the albums and know by the smell how much my grandmother must have also flipped through them to survey years long gone by. It made me feel closer to her, since she had been gone for 7 years by that time.

Then I saw a picture taken in 1977 and a long-buried memory flooded me.

It was just a simple, yellowing photograph. I was rolling on the grass with my mom’s dog Corky on a summer day just like any other. I was wearing blue patch-work overalls and I was smiling. Corky was smiling too.

He was a pure black dog– half-Scotty and half-cocker. We had rescued him from the pound when I was a baby. Even though he was technically the family dog, he was really my mom’s dog because she was the one who fed him, tended to him, and allowed him to snuggle on her bed at night. Still, I enthusiastically played with him for hours on end. But, he was also an older dog and would sometimes get tired. He’d crawl under one of the side tables in the living room and emit a low growl to let me know he needed some rest. And then I’d be off for other adventures.

The memory that flooded me was of a summer night in 1977. We were living on a rented farm in Ohio while my dad was in his first year of a PhD program. My mom worked 60-70 hours a week at an extremely stressful job in order to pay the bills. She had a very demanding boss and sometimes he would call her into work late in the evening after she had returned home. And she’d have to go whenever he called, or he would threaten her job. He would tell her he could get anyone off the street to replace her in a heartbeat. And she’d leave and make the long drive into town to finish up sales proposals at the radio station where she worked.

That night when she got the call, Corky and I were in the front yard playing. Corky was on a very long chain since that yard wasn’t fenced. It was a hot evening, and my mom, frazzled, came outside and announced she had to go back to work to re-edit some copy and sales proposals. As usual, they weren’t good enough for the chauvinistic station owner who loved to wield power over his staff. I remember feeling my mom’s stress and frustration as she hurried to get into the old Mustang. I asked her to please stay and play with us but she mumbled something about getting fired and slammed the door to her car.

I went back to the house and as I was opening the door, I heard a high-pitched screeching and Corky was yelping in pain. My mom got out of the car and was hysterical. My dad said when Corky saw her leaving, he broke his chain and ran under her car before she even had time to react. My dad was in the farther part of the yard and couldn’t stop Corky in time.

My mom put me in the back seat of the Mustang, and wrapped Corky in a white sheet and handed him to me. She frantically drove to the nearest veterinarian and banged on the door for someone to answer. It was about 7:00pm and they were closed for the evening. She drove some back roads to get to another vet. The sheets were turning scarlet faster than I could think. Corky whimpered and looked up at me with soft, brown eyes. Sometimes he’d let out a huge yelp and sometimes he’d tremble from head to tail. I asked him to please hang on and told him we were getting help. At some point during the drive he stopped moving, and I told my mom to hurry. She pulled over, and looked back. Corky and I were both soaked in blood, and Corky was gone.

I don’t remember how long it took to get home but it felt like an eternity, with limp Corky laying in my arms.

My mom dug a grave at the far end of the property while the sun was setting. Corky lay beside the grave in his sheet. My mom buried him but I refused to look. She came back to the house and we sat on the front steps just as the sun went behind the horizon. She asked me how I was feeling, and I remember crying a little, but then I stopped. I said, “I know that you just buried a shell– just like a sea shell where the owner went away. The real Corky is in Heaven now and he is okay. The Corky you buried wasn’t him at all and I know one day I will see him again, too”. I remember the profound feeling I felt that all life was connected, and that life was infinite, even if I had just witnessed the death of a body. The body was not us, it was simply a house we use here and now, but it’s not the real us.

And that’s all I remember of that evening.

But, after I saw that picture, and after I re-lived that memory in its entirety, I realized that was one of the triggers for my profound sadness when Princess died. And I realized it was the thing that kept bidding me to return to the ice, day after day, to make sure Prince would survive the freeze.

And soon after that, the lake ice slowly melted, until Prince could finally swim freely again. But now, we were back to the problem of finding Prince a mate. He was becoming more and more attached to me as the days went on, but we all knew he needed a swan friend, not a human friend, for his companion.

The two female swans were still hope on the horizon, but the Fish and Wildlife Department started to push back. In fact, they even decided to re-evaluate Prince’s status as being grandfathered in. Prince’s case went up for review, and if he didn’t pass the review, Fish and Wildlife would have him taken off the lake and euthanized.

(Stay tuned for part 9)

- Sarah Polyakov

Rate this post!

(4 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>

Oh No, The Return of the Lolita Syndrome

The image above is from the Spring catalog of Urban Outfitters. Now, one would assume that a company as large as this one would know about pornography laws and ensure that their model is 18 years old or above. But, even if she is 18 or above, this points toward a more troubling phenomenon.

The model appears to be younger than 18, and that would qualify her as a Nymphette. What’s a Nymphette you ask? That is any ‘under age’ girl who is sexualized for the purposes of a much older man’s pleasure, per the novel Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov.

When I was in college, I had to read this novel “Lolita” for one of my majors. After all, the male professor said, this book is in the top 100 of books of ALL TIME. That may be true, and it may be true that Nabokov was trying to make an ‘artistic point’, but that doesn’t minimize the impact of bringing pedophelia into popular culture. I simply didn’t buy the argument that this book was art and I was the only one with the courage to speak up and debate with the professor. Likewise, today I am just as opinionated, but in a softer way.

So, even when I was twenty I didn’t buy that “Lolita” was art, even if the narrator, Humbert Humbert, was considered an ‘unreliable narrator” and mentally ill. The fact remained that the book is about the continued rape and molestation of a twelve year old girl over the period of a year. The narrator, in his mind, argued that she was a Nymphette and wanted his attention. Note, he even kills her mother off to get to her and then he takes her from hotel room to hotel room and keeps her out of school so she has no contact with the outside world.

When I saw those photos above I couldn’t help but think of Lolita, and also think this is a very distasteful way to portray young girls. I feel like we’re living in a society where there is an extreme sexualization of women, and now we’re no longer enamored with sexualizing ADULT women. We have to do something even more bold, and that more bold step would be to sexualize girls.

This picture gives me the creeps because the girl looks so young. She could easily pass for a 13 year old. Heck, I know 13-year-olds that look older than this.

But, instead of moaning about these messages I see, I would like to offer other mothers who feel the way I do some ideas. I am sure you have heard this advice a million times before, but it’s still relevant.

1) Write these companies letters and tell them you don’t appreciate their methods of advertising. Also, let them know that you’ll stop buying their clothing because of the way they are ‘disrobing girls’. Dis-robing and selling clothing have nothing to do with each other and they don’t have to follow the cheap tactics of A&F Christmas catalogs to sell clothing.

2) If you have a son or daughter and they see these images, have a frank and open discussion with them. Let them know that such depiction is wrong, in your opinion, and ask them to share their thoughts. I think pre-teens need to understand unhealthy images and it’s great if parents can have such open conversations with their children. This paves the way for a closer emotional relationship with them during the teen years.

3) Stop buying the label– Period. Don’t cave in when your children whine about not having a such and such from so and so. Find the item of clothing they like and buy something very similar from a competitor.

My concern is that some of the popular media is venturing into area they shouldn’t. In these recessionary times, it seems like they’ll do almost anything to lure buyers. But, no matter what the motive of these companies, it doesn’t minimize the impact these images have on our own children. I say as a mother, we need to draw the line. I have two sons, so I can’t say what it’s like to have daughters. But, if I had a daughter, I know I wouldn’t be able to write such a calm blog entry about these images.

What do the readers think? Am I over-reacting or am I spotting a subtle trend towards territory that is dangerous?

I would like to hear what your insights and opinions.

-Sarah Polyakov

Rate this post!

(10 votes, average: 4.60 out of 5)

 Loading ...

Written by Sarah Polyakov  |  Leave A Comment >>