First Baby Picture

Our (VERY) little miracle.

Snow: A Metaphor for Life.

I've wanted to blog about my reaction to this year's winter so far for a long time, but have had trouble working up the energy to do so. This seems symbolic for a lot of things over the past five weeks.

Since the Christmas blizzard of 2010, winter has been one long battle against the elements. With the threat of snow constantly hanging over our heads--and each promised storm delivering on these threats--even the simplest tasks, like getting to work, become much more difficult. Forecasts contribute to this dreadful sense of anticipation days beforehand, so that people are consumed by a sense of anxiety, as they ponder the various "what-ifs" when trying to work out how they'll manage to fulfill the everyday tasks that will still be expected of them. "How will I get to work?" "How will I get home?" "How will I walk my dog?" "What if my car gets stuck?" "Will public transportation be running?" "Will daycare/schools be open?" All of these things, so mundane and taken for granted on a regular day, can bring an entire family, and even an entire city, to a standstill. The sense of helplessness and frustration has become tangible, a living, breathing entity hovering around everyone, something that refuses to be ignored as one storm is dealt with and the next threat materializes.

This seems to be a metaphor for many of the issues I've struggled against for years. I have MAJOR control issues, and constantly rage against my feelings of helplessness over the things I cannot control, and how I seem to be held accountable for them anyway: how can I get my students to study for exams? How can I get my students to do their homework? Why won't some of them even show up to class, or for their Regents exams? Because I cannot answer these questions, because I have VERY limited control over these things, I am left with feelings of frustration and anxiety: how will my passing percentages affect my job security, and so on? These feelings of helplessness and frustration are only magnified by issues affecting the city at large: Mayor Bloomberg hires TWO bureaucrats to run the Department of Education, yet says that he needs to fire six thousand teachers, among other city employees, in order to balance the city's budget. The United States Congress is taking aim at Social Security, Medicare, and pensions, things that I have paid into since I first started earning a paycheck at 16 years old--things that I have had no choice BUT to pay into. And now there are people who want to take these things away from us, essentially stealing the thousands of dollars that I and other Americans like me have paid for it. The federal government talks of removing mortgages as a federal tax deduction, making it just that much more difficult for homeowners to keep their homes. And those people who are most affected by these issues are the ones who have the least control over the outcomes.

This is a very difficult time in which to live, financially. Perhaps the snow is a physical manifestation of this difficulty. Certainly, the unhappiness etched on the faces of millions of Americans is a familiar sight, mostly because I know that it's mirrored on my own. And yet, as I watch the children enjoy playing in the snow, I wonder if there isn't a message in that for us all; children's lives are not without worry, but are still much simpler. Kids take such delight in the little joys of life, and do not worry about the things over which they have no control. They just take things like snow as they come, and make the most out of each joyful moment, rather than worrying about what may be in the future.

Maybe we all should try to be more like our children.

A Letter to Mayor Bloomberg, Re: The Latest Blizzard of 2010

Dear Mayor Bloomberg:

Thank you for your half-assed acknowledgement that the city dropped the ball when it came to cleaning up after Sunday's snowstorm. Of course, it certainly took you long enough to admit that the city might be a little bit to blame for the fact that piles of snow continue to block city streets and sidewalks, leaving many still impassable. I understand why you continue to point your finger at those New Yorkers who foolishly decided to drive late Sunday and early Monday; of course, why would you want to declare an official snow emergency, to make things a little clearer for everybody? And if you had, it would have gotten city buses off the streets as well, many of which became stuck in the middle of the roadways because their drivers had no choice but to do their jobs in the absence of any city mandates directing otherwise. But why split hairs?

After all, I'm not surprised that the vast majority of the city realized that this was a Department of Sanitation slowdown; I mean, when you attacked teachers, firefighters, and police officers with your budget cuts and suffered relatively little negative public feedback from workers or unions, it stands to reason why you'd expect the DSNY to bend over and take it, too. But this was your moment, to shine in all of your glory; after all, you worked so damn hard to put all city departments directly under that managerial thumb of yours. So this was your time to show off: MANAGE. Make the DSNY union and its workers do their damn jobs, so that the city wouldn't come to a standstill and people's lives (and livelihoods) wouldn't be at stake, in what was ONLY the fifth-worst blizzard in the city's history. After all, people clearly remember what a wonderful job the city did, cleaning up after the storm's of last year's harsh winter. Even in the outer boroughs!! Wouldn't want to tarnish that shiny record, would we?

Guess so. Your managerial skills appear to be sorely lacking, sir. Because of your blatant refusal to acknowledge what was happening, it is now the fourth day since the snow ended, and people still cannot leave their homes. Businesses cannot receive deliveries. Supermarkets can't restock their shelves with fresh food. People have died, sir, because emergency vehicles took hours to make it through unplowed roads. Homes burned down. Some people remained virtual shut-ins for days, because they rely upon their cars to travel where they need to go. My own father, who is sixty-two years old and is recovering from a stroke, could not make it to his various doctor's appointments. He could not wade several blocks through two feet of snow to the nearest bus stop, and the buses were not running with any dependability or regularity, because of the hazardous conditions of Staten Island roads. It may suit you to assume a dismissive attitude to these difficulties; after all, you had your very own staff member shovel you a path from your car to the door of the Colonnade Diner on Monday. But I'm sure it would be a very different scenario if you suddenly found yourself without your chaffeur.

Anyway, I hope that you learned something from this debacle, and that it has suitably chastened you--and not just because of the way it has hurt any future political aspirations you may have. When a city with the manpower and resources of New York allows things to degenerate so fully, it should be nothing but humbling. But remember, Mayor Bloomberg: New Yorkers have long memories, and winter has only just begun.

Sincerely Yours,

Alyson Elizabeth Mahon

Merry Christmas

Christmas with the Mahons

I've been asked not to post this picture on Facebook, since it most likely will be on next year's Christmas card, but I figure that my blog will be safe. Those of you who follow my blog will see it, and then it will fade into oblivion, as newer posts take its place.



This weekend, Fran and I decided to take our dog, Bó, to PetSmart, so that he could have his picture taken with "Santa Claws." The night before, I had the brilliant idea to bring Andy, the family cat, to be a part of the day's festivities.

Here is our memento of the day. Too bad that it was too cold and stressful for our bird--I'm sure that Maggie would have loved to have her picture taken, as well!!

Elf Yourself!

http://http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/view/JBx5ag9EdxciHLCX

Christmas Presents (also titled "Ahh, Men..."

It's the last day of November, which means that, once again, I'm trying to get a feel for what my loved ones would like for Christmas--as well as sending out subtle and not-so-subtle hints of my own.

Because of how little time passed between our decision to marry and the actual marriage, I don't have an engagement ring, which is okay. So for Christmas, I'd really like for Fran to get me a three-stone diamond ring, where the three stones symbolize "past, present, and future"; I could wear it with my wedding band, as I would an engagement ring.

To get the message across, I left the website with the ring up on my desktop in the living room when I went to bed last night, so that Fran could see it.

I came home to find a copy of the email I sent him before bringing home Bó, which reads: "I know you're not ready to adopt a dog yet, but what about fostering one to save him from being euthanized??," along with his reply that he wouldn't say no, but that he wasn't sure it was the best time.

There now sits on his computer keyboard a picture of Bó and Fran playing tug-of-war, the latter with a huge grin on his face. Underneath the picture is a note saying, "I'm a size 6."