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The Calamity of Educational Gaps.

January 16, 2020January 16, 2020 Rachel Callahan A Day in the Life, Boy Child = Bizarre., Homeschooling: Not just for the socially awkward anymore., Kids: The Experience.

Sometimes people ask me how I know what all my kids need to learn in their homeschool education. “How do you make sure there’s not a gap in their learning, or be assured that you didn’t forget anything?”

Since I was homeschooled, and know very little about the pre-college group education scene myself, I suppose I could ask the same thing back – how do you know your kids don’t have gaps? My Dad was sick a lot in the fifth grade and totally missed fractions – but was an absolute genius in the construction, mechanical, and art genres without them. (Fractions are totally redundant, apparently.)

But, if we’re being honest, there were gaps in my education.

For instance, I somehow made it to the ripe age of 17 before I had ever heard the word “turd”. It’s not that I didn’t know much worse stuff, but somehow that particular word had slipped through the cracks. When my boyfriend/future-husband used it for the first time in my presence, I actually had to inquire as to its definition, and it took me more years than you would think to find where it went in the order of profanity – somewhere between “silly” and “butthole”, I think – but I could be wrong. I believe that being able to line up all the words in order of badness is one of those developmental processes that once the age passes that you’re supposed to perform that cognitive task, you can’t get it back. Like learning to skip. Or speaking eight languages.

So yes, sometimes there are gaps.

Thankfully, sometimes other kids fill those gaps in for your kids, and it’s always amusing when you find out, via another kid, where your kid’s gaps were.

Last Wednesday was one of those gap-filling days.

We took one of Noah’s friends, Levi, home with us between events for a little while, and in the car on the way home, Ali, who incidentally was in the process of turning thirteen that very day, was delightfully narrating a made-up choose-your-own-adventure for the two boys. Ali was choosing Day One of Thirteen to prove that teenagers were amazing and she wasn’t done enjoying entertaining her brother and his friends yet.

So it went something like this.

Ali: “Levi. You just came up to a bridge over a river or a normal path. Do you choose to walk across the bridge, or the plain path?”

Levi: “I choose to walk across the bridge.”

Ali: “You got to the middle of the bridge, but there was a troll under it. He just jumped up onto the bridge and is blocking you. What are you going to do?”

Levi: “Kick ‘im in the nuts!”

Noah. Lost. It.

He started screaming with cackles and repeatedly saying the phrase over and over. Like me at 17, he knows much worse things – he knows all the biggie words and we’ve had The Birds and the Bees talk. But the melodic beauty of “kick ‘im in the nuts” was clearly a first-time experience for him, and I as his mother was nearly as happy to get to witness this developmental milestone as I was his first steps. Except oh yeah – I wasn’t responsible for Noah or Ali’s first steps so I didn’t see either of them. But at least I got kick ‘im in the nuts.

Fifteen minutes later, while in line at Chick-Fil-A, this was the toned down version of his ongoing mirth over this amazing phrase:

(Note A: We were also behind a car with a BUTS sticker on it, which is the name of our local trail running club – Birmingham Ultra Trail Society. Hence the “butt” in front of us.)

(Note B: That was newly thirteen-year-old Ali trying to calm them down. While her much more mature mother was sneakily recording the entire thing.)

I cannot explain to you the level of joy that Levi gifted my son with that day by teaching him such a useful tool, and I will be eternally grateful for his filling in the gaps of my educational system.

And, on the way home, Noah offered in-kind information to Levi, because we in the homeschool community work together to help each other.

Noah: “Do you know about the Wright Brothers?”

Levi: “What were they right about?”

Noah: “No, their name was WRIGHT. With a W.”

Levi: “Oh. No. I haven’t met them yet.”

Noah: “No, they’re dead. You can’t meet them. But they invented the airplane.”

Levi: “Oh! Cool.”

Although I’m sure that Levi would have learned about the Wright Brothers soon enough on his own, I feel like this was a completely even informational gap-filling trade. But in Noah’s mind, Levi definitely brought more to the table.

Epilogue: Kicking the troll in the nuts did not work. The troll told Levi a riddle, which he got wrong, so the troll ate Levi. But thankfully, trolls eat humans whole, and Levi caused a bit of trolly indigestion, and so the troll threw Levi up and Levi was able to make an escape, albeit a bit covered in Troll Bile. The moral of this story is: trolls don’t have nuts. Or it was a girl troll. Or I guess we don’t really know enough about this particular troll situation to accurately draw out the moral.

An Inconvenient Gap of Truth.

July 10, 2012July 21, 2020 Rachel Callahan Actually Possibly Informational, Denim Drama, Don't Listen to my Fashion Advice, Pop Post, Popular Posts

Nearly every denim makeover I’ve done ends with the same conversation.

“I had no idea what a difference it would make – I thought I was safe with Gap jeans!”

Or,

“Oh my goodness why didn’t anyone tell me I was wearing Mom Jeans?? I thought that as long as I was shopping at Old Navy, I was fine!!”

Gap and Old Navy denim. A subject that I’ve long struggled over whether to address publicly or not. I’ve revealed the truth about them one-on-one for quite a while, but have feared the backlash of addressing it here.

I know it’s hard to swallow, because we’ve all worn them at one time or another.

But I must say it, because I am committed to being honest with you in all matters of denim.

So read it fast – like ripping off a band-aid.

Ready?

Gap and Old Navy sell Gateway Mom Jeans.

There. It’s out there now, so let’s look at why.

I embarked on a reconnaissance mission to both stores accompanied by my dedicated husband/photographer, where I tried on every style of denim available. I’ve gone through and analyzed the evidence collected, then matched them up with comparables in other brands.

But first, a few disclaimers:

1. Jeans can fit vastly differently depending on the body. What may look awful on me could look good on you. My points below are not blanket statements, just strong suggestions.

2. We tried to match camera angles as well as possible, but seeing as how we were on an intensely covert operation and there was an especially nosy associate working the dressing room during our mission, not everything could be perfected as we wished.

3. Some people buy Gap and Old Navy because they are inexpensive. Almost all of the jeans pictured can be attained for about the same price as a pair of Gap jeans. (My current favorite way to get designer jeans at half off or more is through Nordstrom Rack or their app, HauteLook.) Good fit does not have to be expensive.

Let’s start with Gap.

1. The first style I tried on was called Real Straight.

These jeans, on the surface, do not qualify for the number one definition of Mom Jeans: pockets ending before the lower curvature of the butt.

However, they do have some concerning areas that clearly qualify them as Gateway Mom Jeans. Specifically, they make an unattractive inverted heart betwixt the cheeks, and the pockets are SO DANG GIGANTIC that they could hold a small Llama.

Perhaps on their own, it’s not clear enough. For comparison, here they are as compared to an Antik straight leg:

Yes, that is the same butt. No, I didn’t starve myself between the two photos.

2. Next I tried on Gap’s Always Skinny.

Again, these aren’t terrible. But they’re not great. They give me an extremely wideset rear view, and repeat the Kangaroo Pouch Pockets.

Notice the width shrinkage when compared to a well-shaped pair of skinny jeans bought from a neighboring mall store:

You can see how the smaller pocket, in this case, gives the curve and lift to offer pep and life, rather than a flat, weighed down look. Also, specifically on a skinny jean, the smaller pocket helps lessen the inverted triangle issue by separating the butt from the thigh.

(You might remember that we discussed the flattering qualities of large pockets in a prior post. While this is true, when the pockets are disproportionately dinasauric, the effect is not nearly so ideal.)

3. The next pair I tried on was the Gap Original Fit.

Clearly, these are horrifying. Especially note how the pockets are so wide-set that it gives me a third butt cheek, and the tapered yet loose leg is classic Mom Jean.

Also? No one should EVER need a zipper THAT LONG.

If you desire something classic yet modern and flattering forgoodnesssake, by all means go with a nice, conservative 7 For All Mankind.

4. Let’s move on. Quickly. To Gap Perfect Boot.

I found these to be the least offensive. However, the pockets were still too wide-set and oversized, once again offering the appearance of a supersized caboose. Notice the immediate shrinking sensation when compared to a pair of Hudson Bootcut:

5. Next: the Gap Curvy Fit.

Oddly enough, the Curvy Fit seemed to take away all of my curves and conglomerate them into a giant pile of lumpishness.

If you have curves and need room for them to move and breathe, Miss Chic or LA Idol are awesome options with quite a bit more visual interest and flattering fit:

6. My next fitting was in Gap Long and Lean.

This pair was the only pair that qualified beyond Gateway and straight into Mom Jeans – at least on me, as the pockets ended significantly before the lower curvature of my butt:

However, one of my best friends wears Gap Long and Lean, and I’ve always been puzzled as to how they look so great on her – especially since we even wear the same size. So, in fairness, I present to you evidence that Gap jeans can look right on the exact right body:

Let me assure you, though – I have counseled many former Gap wearers, and the friend pictured above is the exception, not the rule.

So if you don’t have that rare Gap-flattered body and you want to look Long and Lean, might I suggest Rock and Republic – notice the immediate leg-lengthening effect:

7. The last Gap style that I found was highly ironically named…the Sexy Boyfriend.

OH NO THEY DIDN’T.

I SO wish I could have found these in my size to try on.

Pleats.

Darts.

Flap Inner-Only Pockets.

TAPERED. LEG.

Have you ever seen any man under 70 wearing jeans like this, let alone a sexy boyfriend??

I shudder to think.

But I did find one last treasure before I left Gap…

8. The Gap Denim Romper.

Yes. I was ashamed.

(And my cameraman didn’t like my visible bra strap.)

Just in case you missed it, the back waist actually qualifies this outfit as… Grandma Jeans.

I apologize to your retinas.

I rushed out of Gap and headed to Old Navy.

Which was somewhat akin to jumping out of the frying pan and into the nuclear incinerator.

I tried on every style that they had in both bootcut and skinny, but neither leg choice was better than the other. So, to summarize, here are all three of their major styles in bootcut.

The Diva was the least offensive, but still lacked style or a flattering cut.

The Dreamer copied Gap’s main problem of wide-set pockets and triple butt.

And the Sweetheart was unapologetically a hardcore Mom Jean.

Just in case you needed a healthy comparison, I offer them against 7 For All Mankind:

Lest you think that I have somehow doctored my photos (which I have not) or that this information is only applicable to my body type, here are a few examples of others who have been freed from the noose of Gateway Mom Jeans:

Subject A, a close friend who had no idea how flattering and comfortable great jeans could be:

Subject B, a blog reader and mom of four kids:

And Subject C, a new Mom and blog reader from the other side of the country who got a long-distance makeover via the following before-and-after butt-texts:

(Yes, I get butt-texts quite often, usually accompanied with the question, “Are these Mom Jeans?” If you need to butt-text me, just let me know and I’ll give you my number.)

After Subject C bought her jeans, she sent me a couple more full-length before and after photos (with an adorable baby leg included as a bonus):

But.

Even if you look great in Gap jeans – even if they fit you perfectly, the pockets are proportionately correct, and the style was made for your body type, here is my biggest argument against Gap and Old Navy Jeans:

They stretch out.

Ferociously.

Unforgivingly.

Ridiculously.

So even if they don’t look like Mom Jeans when you put them on, they will before the next episode of Dora the Explorer is over.

Looking for the rest of my denim posts? Here’s a list:

If you’re afraid you might have Long Butt, click here.
If you’re plus-sized, click here.
If you’re over 50 years old, click here.
If you want more specific tips and tricks to pick out the perfect jeans, click here.
If you want a list of every post I’ve ever written about denim, click here.

Other Posts That Might Interest You…

Maine Days Four and Five: Adding a Second to the Trip.

November 13, 2020November 13, 2020 Rachel Callahan Maine

Day four was to be my last day alone – that evening I would be picking Chris up from the airport to join me!

I loved every minute of my silence and solitude, but I was more excited to show Chris the wonderland that was Maine – I felt like I’d discovered a New World, and I couldn’t wait to be tour guide to my husband (and quietly convince him that we needed to come here every fall.)

I stuck to the itinerary better on this day than any other – the plan was to move south, very slowly, and end up in Portland to pick Chris up that night. The first stop was one peninsula south, which was really a peninsula then two islands at the tip of the peninsula, to go to Giant’s Stairs, which were massive rocks at the shore, with one section of large rock “stairs” to get down to the rest of the area. The stairs were big enough that I was a little scared to climb down them with no one there to know if I fell, so I texted Chris and told him where he could find my body.

They were fine and really not as bad as they looked – I just had to sit down on each stair and hop down to the next one.

There was a little valley of rocks and barnacles and mussels – so many barnacles and mussels! The rocks were really shimmery and pretty as well, and had cool veins of clear rock throughout. Then there was another shadowy set of stairs, and then you could climb up onto a ledge and be above the ocean. It was all quite large in scale and spectacular.

After that I started driving back up the peninsula, but stopped at several places to take pictures of the quaint fishing village.

The winds were still high, but they were highest where I ate lunch – it was a peninsula on the peninsula and the wind was so hard the car was rocking after I parked, and I had to bend in half to walk to the restaurant like Jim Cantore in a hurricane.

To eat at any restaurant in Maine, they take your name and phone number for contact tracing. This restaurant let me fill it out for myself. I felt like I left my number all over the state, but I received no contact tracing calls from it (as much as I would have liked for them to tell me I wasn’t allowed to leave…)

This was my last meal alone. I realized one of the reasons I don’t prioritize food when I travel alone is that, besides the fact that it’s weird eating in a restaurant alone, I really just don’t care about or like food as much when eating by myself. So it was fine, but not amazing. But the view was good, and there was a pirate ship out my window, and lobster traps in a pile outside the restaurant, which lended credence to its freshness.

I left lunch and got off the islands, off the peninsula, back on the highway, and headed for Portland. My next stop was another island that was also a state park and also a school for the deaf.

It was called Mackworth Island, but it was also called Fairy House Island because they have several areas in the woods where they encourage you to use found items to build fairy houses.

But there was also a pet cemetery on the island, where a former Governor really went through a lot of dogs.

So perhaps it’s not fairies that live on the islands, but ghosts of dogs pretending to be fairies so that people will build them doghouses for their little ghosty doggy souls. It is Maine, after all. and Maine is an Extraordinarily Creepy Place.

The island had a 1.25 mile loop trail around the outside of it, which was unbelievably windy on one side, and quite pleasant on the other.

Then I continued my journey southward and headed to the Portland Head Lighthouse next. The lighthouse itself closes early in the day, but the grounds and trails around it were open, so I walked the Cliff Walk, again with all the wind, and got some cool pictures of the lighthouse.

I was kind of done with the whole wind thing for the day – my face ached and was so wrinkly from scrunching up against the wind and sun, so I headed to downtown Portland.

I went in a couple shops, then found what I thought was a coffee shop to take refuge from the wind in while I waited on Chris’ plane to land. I ordered a Capuccino and cheezecake (“why the z?”, I wondered) and sat in quietly, ignoring the fact that sunset was happening outside and I should care about photographing it, but basking in the stillness of the indoor air.

I took my first bite of cheezecake and realized that something was up – I mean it was not awful but it was NOT cheesecake. I googled my coffee shop, and as it turns out, I was in a plant-based, vegan, gluten-free, allergen-free, everything-free restaurant. I clicked on “cheezecake” – what had they made this stuff with? Everything-free nothing is what they made it with.

So cheezecake clearly counted as a vegetable instead of my official birthday dessert.

I picked Chris up from the airport, and we headed back downtown to eat. It was in the 40s and there were still gale-force winds, but there were people eating on the restaurant’s deck. And when we walked in, they asked us if we’d prefer to eat inside or out.

These Maine people take every bit of outdoor “warmth” they can get before winter hits.

Inside they had these delightfully cozy couch dining areas, which we took full advantage of. We had a lovely meal of catching up.

I was curious as to how it would feel to talk again – it was now Thursday night, and I hadn’t talked to anyone, other than waiters and front desk staff, since Monday morning – not even a single phone call or Facetime with my family. I did feel as if Chris was talking really fast and saying a whole lot – I think it was just the shock of words formed into paragraphs again. And halfway through dinner I felt like my voice got a little hoarse. It was like “Oh so we’re talking again are we?”

After dinner, I drove us back to the resort. I’ve gotten used to all the curvy Maine roads and my little Rental Rogue, so I didn’t want Chris to have to drive and figure it out in the dark. We saw what we think was a baby bear, then a fox cross the road – Chris was already being good luck in the creature spotting category.

Friday – My Birthday.

I’d spent four days exploring new places and taking risks at things being great or not, so for my birthday, I wanted to take Chris back to the “best of” places I’d been and re-enjoy them with him. And I wanted to take our time and relax and not be in a hurry.

We sat on the balcony and drank coffee, and as we were sitting there, a bald eagle came and perched on the top of the tree one house over. I couldn’t believe it. I quietly freaked out to point him out to Chris, then quietly went in to get my camera.

He let me get about six shots in before he flew away, and I was so excited. Clearly Chris was EXCELLENT luck in the creature category. Maybe now I’d find my moose.

Chris cracked me up on the way to breakfast. He was more covered than he’d been in his entire life. My husband, who wears shorts and a t-shirt all year round, was wearing actual pants (lyme disease protection), a jacket (wind protection), a mask (COVID protection for breakfast requirements), a hat and sunglasses (sun protection), and he made sure to tell me he was wearing chapstick (lip protection.)

HE WAS INVINCIBLE. And I wasn’t sure if he was my husband.

After breakfast we walked around the resort to familiarize Chris with it, and I showed him all of my favorite adorable touches.

We walked back to the lake and there were two more eagles on it! They looked larger, but they were too far away to take pictures. They were sitting on rocks on opposite sides of the lake staring at each other. It was fantastic.

We got ready for the day’s adventures and I drove us again (I wanted him to look around and see the sights) through Bath (down a few of the roads with the gorgeous houses and churches) and on to Reid State Park – the park with the lagoon, the reversing inlet, the moose prints, and the beaches with the rocks and the fall trees.

We walked down and tracked the MANY moose and deer prints (there seemed to be more this time), then walked up to the rock peaks. The ocean was completely calm this time, as opposed to the violently crashing waves of two days beforehand. The wind was still there, but much less so.

We decided to reverse the walk I did to get the wind at our backs on the beach, and also add in the 2.2 mile “ski loop trail” to our walk. The trail was lined with Christmas Trees. Some tiny, some huge, some short needled, some long needled. They were adorable.

The fall trees were also lovely and I kept getting dizzy from looking up.

The loop seemed more than 2.2 miles, but we eventually made it to the beach. We stopped to eat a snack and enjoy the view, and I found a bigfoot footprint in the rocks.

When we got back to the parking lot, I told Chris that I wanted him to Google and pick a restaurant in Bath while I drove – it was my birthday and I didn’t want to do any more picking. But I did tell him I’d seen what looked like a traditional Maine seafood, so he looked up the one I remembered seeing and after a bit decided on it – Taste of Maine.

It was the quirkiest, weirdest, hugest restaurant. It was like a Cracker Barrel but creepier and less standardized.

There was stuff everywhere – clowns, a full-sized Dobby, lanterns, lobsters, crafts made out of lobster shells, and especially weird stuffed doll/puppets made by a local artist, and also used creatively to socially distance the tables.

But the food was delicious (definitely better because I wasn’t eating alone) and we tried a new sauce called Newburg sauce that was amazing to dip our lobster in.

I also got my REAL birthday dessert there – a very rich peanut butter pie that ended up being three servings worth of dessert.

It was now about 5pm, so I was ready to head back to the resort. We sat on the balcony and drank coffee, watching the gorgeous sunset and the resort’s tour boat going through it.
I got a burst of energy right at sunset, so we hiked up the mountain in the dusk to see the resort from the top – which ended up being really cool because once the sun went down, you could see all the lighthouses on all the peninsulas and islands flashing. We could pick out the lighthouse in Portland, over an hour away, and we could see mountain ranges in Vermont or Massachusetts or both (we couldn’t decide.)

THEN we were ready to get cleaned up and really relax for the night. It was most likely the best birthday I have ever experienced.

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