No Need to Fear Lonely Days

MY TURN Boston Parents Paper When I became a parent a litt le over a decade ago, I was worried about feeling disconnected. Th ose “in the know” warned me I would feel isolated and long for adult conversation. Apparently, when it comes to connecting, the experts agree. According to Th omas Sander, executive director of the Saguaro Seminar at the John F. Kennedy School of Government at Harvard University, staying connected is good for our mental and physical health. He adds that establishing friendly ties lowers stress, increases immunity, and boosts the amount of support we receive. Having spent 20-plus years in the working world surrounded by adults, I thought my friends and the experts were probably right, but fi gured I would learn to cope. Imagine my surprise when, as a new parent, I not only did not feel disconnected, but, rather, felt more connected than ever before in my pre-parent life. I’ve tried to fi gure out why I don’t miss adult conversation and enjoy being surrounded by the younger set. Maybe my transition to mom-hood was helped by a post-baby, part-time work schedule. Still, I noticed that when working at my part-time job, I tended to sneak stealthily into the offi ce, get my work done, and get the heck out before my colleagues even knew I was there. I defi nitely wasn’t craving adult interaction. What was wrong with me that I was content to interact with babies and toddlers for a good part of the day? After pondering this pattern for a few weeks, I figured out that I wasn’t disconnected at all; I was just reconnecting to a diff erent part of my adult life. For the fi rst time since we moved to our neighborhood, I know our mailman’s name, that our neighbor has two kids and three grandchildren, and that Julie and Tom across the street run a successful business from their home.Aside from the personal stuff , I also know what is happening in our community. I am in tune with the latest debate over the local high school, who is in the lead for alderman, and when the mayor is holding his annual spring celebration. In fact, I even have time to volunteer at the library and lend a hand in my daughter’s classroom. Instead of racing in and out of the grocery store on my way home from the offi ce, I can now spend time perusing the aisles. I know some of the checkout people if not by name then at least by face. And I fi nally have time to debate the best cuts of meat with the butcher. The truth is, being at home has connected me to a completely diff erent circle, but one I enjoy immensely. I feel a rush of warmth when I yell “good morning” to the delivery person, a sense of satisfaction when I stop to chat with a neighbor during my morning walk, and a new bond with the parents of my daughter’s classmates. I used to worry about what would become of our only child. Without siblings or cousins to share childhood milestones, would she grow into an adult somehow lacking in basic human interaction skills? Now I realize that our daughter will connect in new, diff erent, and just as meaningful ways through friends, neighbors and her community. And if she’s really lucky, she’ll discover these connections a lot sooner than I did. Who knew that spending my days with the younger set would open up a whole new adult world, too? ■ Roberta Martone Pavia is a mother and writer in Newton. My Turn gives our readers a voice. Interested in submitting an opinion piece? Email us at Boston.ParentsPaper@parenthood.com. The opinions represented in this article do not necessarily refl ect the views of the Boston Parents Paper. Roberta Martone Pavia Content is copyright protected and provided for personal use only - not for reproduction or retransmission.

End of the year

I had been out for seventeen nights in a row --- end of school year stuff. Good-bye parties, graduation parties, see you soon parties, end of year PTO meetings. Endless. Couldn't wait to stay home one night and just relax. Watch a little TV, read a book, even do some bills. So guess what? I've been home for three nights in a row and I am going stir crazy!! What gives?

I think it's the transition period that happens at the end of every school year. We're going, going, going not stop. And then we're finally, really gone. Even though we think we need to slow down and take a break, it's a let down after all the hoopla, all the commotion. In a few weeks, I know everything will settle into a predictable busy routine. But right now I just feel a little at loose ends...looking forward once again to a few night out!

Everyone's a Writer

Today, everybody is a writer --- especially with the plethora of blogs and self-publishing venues. I've been in communications for many years --- some as a journalist, some as a corporate marketing professional, and some as a freelance writer/consultant. Through the years one thing that has never changed is that inevitable writer's block that we all face from time to time. It's the demon "white page" and it stalks us when we least expect it.

How to overcome it? My answer might sound absurdly simple (and it certainly has been said before) but most often it works: When you can't write, just write. That's right (honestly, no pun intended.) Just pull out the keyboard or pick up a pen and WRITE. Write anything even if it's jibberish. Give yourself a time limit of 10 minutes and one of two things will happen. Your thoughts will start to flow and you'll continue to write for more than 10 minutes, possibly with some good results. Or, you'll end up with some jibberish. More likely, the former will happen. If not, at least you've tried. There is some satisfaction in that. See? I've just written for 10 minutes and I have a post! Happy writing.....

Dinning Al Fresco Again

After reading Boston Magazine's suggested outdoor eating spots, I had to repost this!! Go to http://www.bostonmagazine.com/restaurants/display/bite_to_eat/ for their suggestions!


I just finished reading Mitch Ablom's article in PARADE magazine about dining outdoors. And I am howling. Or, rather, my husband and my 10-year-old are howling, because, Mitch sounds so much like me. Like Mitch, I, too, head outdoors to dine as soon as the icicles melt.

That’s when the search for places to eat al fresco begins, and becomes nothing short of an obsession. My family sighs in exasperation as I ponder where to have our spring/summer lunch, dinner, or breakfast. When at home, it's easy. The choice is either the patio or the porch. Short of a hail storm, we are eating at one or the other location. In fact, in my mind, it is a sacrilege to dine indoors after March 15. And, yes, like the Abloms, we have our fair share of pests: mosquitoes, flies, and the occasional bee. But, it does not deter us. Or, rather, me.

When we venture out to a restaurant, other obstacles come into play. Like the weather, which, again, rarely deters me, unless it’s pouring rain. My sister reminds me of the experience a few years back when I forced her to sit outside at a popular Newbury Street restaurant even though the thermometer plunged to a chilly 40 degrees. It was, after all, April 30 and officially spring.

For those who aren't as passionate as I am about dining in the elements, it's difficult to understand the appeal when the view is anything less than rolling hills or ocean waves. Most often the view or lack thereof doesn’t affect the experience for me. Although, sometimes even I have to admit when the vista is less than best dining outside can lose a bit of its cache. Especially when it consists of the side of a produce truck touting Vinne’s plumbing services or a flashing neon sign extolling the virtues of Dawn’s Donuts. Not to mention the unpleasant background noise of, say a 1970 Chevy whose muffler has seen better days, or the whoops and hollers of the local pre-teens as they rollerblade up and down the sidewalk in front of our table. Still, I tell my family, taking a deep breath that is mixed with car exhaust, it’s May and it’s warm out and there’s just something so special about eating outside.

Back on the home front, I have to agree with Mitch again. There isn’t a meal when we haven’t forgotten the napkins, or the forks, or the water, or the drinks. So after three or four trips to the kitchen, when my husband --- the designated runner --- finally sits down, my daughter and I are pretty much finished with our food.

Still, I persist in my quest for that perfect outdoor dining experience. I sometimes wonder if I have that light deficit disorder. Or, perhaps it has something to do with my childhood upbringing. I remember as a kid I spent every waking moment outside in the woods, in the trees, or in the sun, craving the air and brightness.

Whatever the reason, my need to eat outside is something I truly enjoy and look forward to as a rite of spring. Rest assured, with or without my family, I’ll be outside until the first snow. Or, at least until the leaves fall. I’m sure Mitch will be, too.

Ty Tremblay: on a collision course with robotics engineering

As a freshman at Prospect Mountain High School in Alton, New Hampshire, Ty Tremblay says he had his heart set on becoming an executive chef in the restaurant business and was heading in the right direction ─ until he was knocked off course, literally, by FIRST.


Tremblay didn’t know what hit him when, on his way to catch the bus to his culinary classes one day, he passed the industrial arts classroom and collided with a rogue robot. Once “Big Bad Bob” was subdued and Tremblay was back on his feet, curiosity replaced surprise. After asking about the robot, the program, and FIRST, Tremblay was hooked. The following day, he joined FIRST Robotics Competition (FRC) Team 319, enrolled in the industrial arts program, and never thought twice about trading a spatula for a slide rule.


Tremblay sometimes muses that he could have taken several different paths to get to his destination that day. Why he chose the one that brought him past the industrial arts area, he’s not sure. But it was a path that eventually changed his life forever.

“Some say that choosing the right path in life takes careful deliberation and decision making. I used to be a firm believer in that school of thought. Then one day, it just hit me,” jokes Tremblay.


That was seven years ago, and today, Tremblay is pursuing a bachelor’s of science degree, as well as a master’s degree in robotics engineering at Worcester Polytechnic Institute (WPI) in Massachusetts. A member of Team 319 during his high school years, Tremblay continues his involvement with FIRST today by mentoring Team 190 “Gompei and the H.E.R.D.,” a WPI-sponsored team made up of students from the Massachusetts Academy of Math and Science, a junior/senior high school on campus.


Lessons learned on the chosen path


The college junior says there are plenty of lessons learned from his experiences with FIRST. “Teamwork is the key to any project’s success. If you don’t work as a team, you’ll never be able to build a robot in six weeks,” says Tremblay, who adds that learning how to work on a large team to solve a complex problem was one of the best lessons from his time spent with FIRST. And, doing it within the context of Gracious Professionalism™ was a bonus.

Another important “take away” from FIRST? A passion for science and technology. Tremblay says, “If you’re passionate about something, it never seems like work. During my four years as a team member of 319, I regularly put in 30 hours a week in addition to my school work, but I never grew tired of it. My involvement with FIRST has given me my passion; for the rest of my life, I’ll have fun mentoring FIRST teams and working on side projects. I can’t get enough of robotics.”

The soon-to-be engineer also maintains that if it wasn’t for FIRST, he would “never have found WPI.” During his freshman year, Tremblay mentored Team 190 and helped to design a sub-system of the team’s robot. Thanks to his efforts, the following year Tremblay was elected director of operations by the team, which meant he was in charge of organizing the design, construction, and completion of the team’s 2009 robot.

The Rogue Robot that led him to FIRST


What does the future hold for the man who once had dreams of becoming the next Emeril Lagasse? Tremblay says he plans to be involved with FIRST for the rest of his life.

“My experience with FIRST has given me a wealth of opportunities. I hope that I can help to do the same for other high school students,” says Tremblay, whose future plans include pursuing a doctorate in robotics engineering, after which he hopes to find a position working in the industry.


“Frankly, if ‘Big Bad Bob’ hadn’t hit me, I never would have joined FIRST. I never would have discovered WPI. And, I wouldn’t be where I am today,” says Tremblay.


Despite the initial collision course, it looks like there are no wrong turns on the road Tremblay has chosen.

The Delights of Dining Al Fresco

I just finished reading Mitch Ablom's article in PARADE magazine about dining outdoors. And I am howling. Or, rather, my husband and my 10-year-old are howling, because, Mitch sounds so much like me. Like Mitch, I, too, head outdoors to dine as soon as the icicles melt.

That’s when the search for places to eat al fresco begins, and becomes nothing short of an obsession. My family sighs in exasperation as I ponder where to have our spring/summer lunch, dinner, or breakfast. When at home, it's easy. The choice is either the patio or the porch. Short of a hail storm, we are eating at one or the other location. In fact, in my mind, it is a sacrilege to dine indoors after March 15. And, yes, like the Abloms, we have our fair share of pests: mosquitoes, flies, and the occasional bee. But, it does not deter us. Or, rather, me.

When we venture out to a restaurant, other obstacles come into play. Like the weather, which, again, rarely deters me, unless it’s pouring rain. My sister reminds me of the experience a few years back when I forced her to sit outside at a popular Newbury Street restaurant even though the thermometer plunged to a chilly 40 degrees. It was, after all, April 30 and officially spring.

For those who aren't as passionate as I am about dining in the elements, it's difficult to understand the appeal when the view is anything less than rolling hills or ocean waves. Most often the view or lack thereof doesn’t affect the experience for me. Although, sometimes even I have to admit when the vista is less than best dining outside can lose a bit of its cache. Especially when it consists of the side of a produce truck touting Vinne’s plumbing services or a flashing neon sign extolling the virtues of Dawn’s Donuts. Not to mention the unpleasant background noise of, say a 1970 Chevy whose muffler has seen better days, or the whoops and hollers of the local pre-teens as they rollerblade up and down the sidewalk in front of our table. Still, I tell my family, taking a deep breath that is mixed with car exhaust, it’s May and it’s warm out and there’s just something so special about eating outside.

Back on the home front, I have to agree with Mitch again. There isn’t a meal when we haven’t forgotten the napkins, or the forks, or the water, or the drinks. So after three or four trips to the kitchen, when my husband --- the designated runner --- finally sits down, my daughter and I are pretty much finished with our food.

Still, I persist in my quest for that perfect outdoor dining experience. I sometimes wonder if I have that light deficit disorder. Or, perhaps it has something to do with my childhood upbringing. I remember as a kid I spent every waking moment outside in the woods, in the trees, or in the sun, craving the air and brightness.

Whatever the reason, my need to eat outside is something I truly enjoy and look forward to as a rite of spring. Rest assured, with or without my family, I’ll be outside until the first snow. Or, at least until the leaves fall. I’m sure Mitch will be, too.

Almost done

So the kitchen is almost done and in a word it is --- wait for it --- anticlimactic! Who knew? After contemplating a kitchen redo for 10-plus years I thought I would feel something. Euphoric. Excited. At least pleased. But "anticlimactic" is not one of the words I thought would come to mind.

Understand, I am very pleased with the results. The kitchen looks great: the granite is perfect. The paint color is just right. The appliances are all shiny and new and clean. And it does all that we hoped it would do: the new wood floors don't show the dirt; the dishwasher actually cleans the dishes; and the new pantry is now stocked with food instead of unopened mail, last week's newspaper, and the occasional leftover bag of pretzels.

All is efficient and pleasant. So, what's wrong? Nothing. Maybe it's just the human condition rearing it's ugly head once again. We want and want. And get and get. And then we want more. Ahh the neverending consumer cycle!