Activist in the Making A couple of days ago, my daughter left for school, just an average, six-year-old first-grader. She came home a political activist. Nicole and several kids were playing on the jungle gym after school, when one child was approached by a yard monitor and questioned. It turned out the child did not attend the school, but was playing with his friend who did. The child was informed that it was against the rules for children from other schools to be on the play structure and he was asked to come down. In response to that, some of the children, led by a militant third-grader, created a petition. They went around the school yard gathering signatures to give to the principal, requesting “fair and equal access” to the play structure for all children. When Nicole came home from school, she was bubbling over with excitement about the petition. She wasn’t even quite sure what a petition was, but she was certain it would right what she personally considered an egregious wrong.

A recent article in L.A. Parent Magazine ( www.laparent.com ) asked, Is Motherhood Depressing? The article’s title was meant to be provocative – questioning whether the mere act of being a mother – supposedly the world’s most rewarding (and yes, the real oldest) profession, could emotionally debilitate even the most well-balanced woman. In reality, the story was about the difficulties of parenting while dealing with a psychological disorder, profiling one woman’s struggle with clinical depression. It cited a study which suggests that a growing number of women and men are finding that child rearing has sent them into a Prozac dependency, needing daily medication to survive from school drop-off to bedtime and every dirty diaper-, temper tantrum- and homework-induced meltdown in between. My personal belief is whatever it takes to get through the day without blood being shed is, to quote my favorite ex-con Martha Stewart, “a good thing.” My husband recently received very sad news which brought the message home. He learned an acquaintance from college who was married, had kids and was depressed, killed herself and her children while her husband was away serving in Iraq. All this got me thinking about the many parents I know who are not saddled with lifetime depression issues or even survivors of postpartum depression, but who still wonder aloud and often, why they feel their lives as parents have left them so frustrated, sad and often angry. Is motherhood depressing? Maybe it is, yes, but for reasons that we can change.

End of December is the time for making resolutions which more often than not are distant memories come the Super Bowl. This year, I’ve decided not to make specific resolutions to do this or not to do that. It’s too damaging to my ego when June comes around and those ten pounds I was going to lose is now fifteen. So, I’ve come up with some broader thoughts to chew on which might last long after the holidays have passed and found some books and websites to help on the journey.

If you haven’t already noticed, for the most part, my postings are about food or eating or not eating—basically something involving the digestive system. And I’m not a cookbook author or even a hard-core chef. It’s just that when I was younger, I was told that one of the most intimate things you can do socially with another person is eat. It’s a concept that has stuck with me because it makes sense: Eating brings us together, fosters cooperation and encourages sharing—if not of food, then of emotional and intellectual expression. It is the reason why potlucks, block parties and school mixers are so popular. It is why the concept of the family dinner (or making sure you have at least one of the three daily meals together) is so important. And now experts are confirming what parents have assumed for years: that cooking together is as positive an experience for kids and parents as eating together.