Erika Schickel:  Last week you seemed shocked when I revealed that I let my kids eat Corn Pops.  But the fact is, I don't buy them for my kids, I buy them for myself.  I fucking LOVE Corn Pops.  I get a box of those and it’s a race between me and my kids to see who can have the most bowls before it's gone.

I was raised in a sugar cereal home.  I have been eating Corn Pops since they were more honestly called Sugar Pops. My sister and I also ate Sugar Smacks, Lucky Charms, King Vitamin, and Cap'n Crunch.  My favorite cereal of all was Kaboom!  Do you remember Kaboom!?  Kaboom! was the junkiest of the junk cereals.  They were basically Lucky Charms in reverse: white marshmallow stars with colored cereal clown faces. They turned the milk a garish lavender.  Mmmmmmm.

I try to eat like an adult, and keep the super-junk out of the house for my kids' sake.  But I am weak, so weak....  I know I am setting my kids up for bad eating habits by letting them start their day with nothing more than a bowl of puffed grain and sugar.  But it's how I was raised and I am simply perpetuating the cycle of abuse.

Neal Pollack: Very interesting, since my parents never allowed anything more sugary than Rice Krispies into our house. I always ate shredded wheat and oatmeal, and to this day, I love shredded wheat and oatmeal, as long as they come accompanied by some combination of fresh fruit, maple syrup, and brown sugar. Frosted Flakes taste disgusting to me, and I have no fond memories of Froot Loops.

This isn't to say I was born a food purist. I love fried chicken and pizza and eat too many beef burgers. And don't put a box of Oreos in front of me if you want to eat any of them. But sugared cereal, no way. And therefore, my son doesn't like it, either. He'd rather eat a bowl of green beans in the morning.

This doesn't make me a great parent, and it's not like my kid doesn't eat candy sometimes, but since sugared cereals were never part of my life, I don't see why they should be part of my kid's.

ES:  Yeah, it's funny, my parents didn't eat that crap, yet they spooned it into us.  Ah, the seventies ...  My mother was and is an excellent cook with a deep love of produce.  She had us eating asparagus and artichoke at a young age.   In fact, I made  Vichyssoise for dinner tonight -- a childhood favorite of mine.  Still, I wish I had been set up with better habits.  Even though I try to keep the junk to a minimum in the house, I also feel like life isn't worth living if you can't have a cookie when you want one.  

NP:  True enough, but the problem is that kids always want cookies, which would be okay, if they wanted delicious homemade cookies, but those are only always available in the most annoying households. If you could always have a Nutter Butter when you wanted one, poor health would follow, almost inevitably. That said, I think the real key here is being open and honest with our kids about food: that we eat sensibly and healthily and balanced, talk about what we eat like it matters, and don't over-obsess one way or another. This from a guy who just ate pizza and a double order of chicken wings for dinner. But hey, my wife's out of town.

ES:  Actually, my kids have found a way around the lack-of-cookie issue here.  They have taken up baking!  Yes, ours is an annoying household where we often have baked goods on hand.  I approve because cooking is educational, keeps them out of my hair, and results, most often, in macaroons.  Or thin, little, slightly burnt chocolate chip cookies, which taste like heaven.  The problem is that I always want cookies and the girls will wake up to find their supply greatly diminished in the morning.  Then they have to bake more.  Win/win.

NP: Yes, we are also a household where baked goods dominate. And disappear quickly. My son is not yet a baker, though. He is a batter-licker. And gee whiz, mister, life sure is swell!

ES:  Well, it’s swell if you mean what my butt is doing in my jeans.  Come to think of it, maybe it’s not so win/win.

NP:  Sometimes, our food purism has consequences. I feel like I'm a waiter in a restaurant with a weird and limited menu: frozen green beans, chicken skin, macaroni and cheese, and popsicles made from smoothie mix. My kid loves food, but I worry that he's learning it's something that people SERVE him rather than something he needs to cultivate and make. Then again, he's not even six, and he HAS taken a cooking class. You think maybe I'm a bit of a yuppie over-obsessive when it comes to food? Maybe?

ES:  Chicken skin is an entrée in your house?  What happens to the rest of the bird?  Oh Neal, I have so much to learn from you. 

Neal Pollack: As I write this on the 3rd of July, I wonder: How do you teach your children about patriotism as it relates to American history? I can't imagine you preach blind fealty to God and country, but it's amazing how many parents do, how many households I've seen where it's verboten to criticize the government in front of the kids, lest they get the idea that government is fallible. So what's your approach? Did you try to get the girls to watch John Adams with you? At what point, if at all, do you introduce the Howard Zinn mind-blow? Has it been hard to teach them to love their country during the Bush years? At least, as my son's political awareness begins to stir, he has the hope of Obama to point his way toward a brighter tomorrow. How did you handle early civics, and how are you handling them now?

Erika Schickel: Oh good Garfield, "how do we handle early civics"? Howard Zinn?  Really?  You can't be serious, Neal.   Independence Day means sparklers and illegal fireworks at our neighbors' house.  You are clearly operating at a higher level of citizenship in your home.  I applaud you.

But since you ask, I will say that since this war began, I have made a point of NOT putting my hand over my heart and saying the Pledge of Allegiance.  I have told my girls that even though I love my country, I don't love what we're doing in Iraq (and other places) and that, until the war is over, my allegiance is on hold.  This will not, however, prevent me from eating a hot dog on the Fourth and going to the beach.  Both my girls share my loathing for Bush and love my "Another Mama for Obama" bumper sticker.  They watch their parents rant over the morning paper and have taken an active interest in the election -- so I would say they are definitely cultivating a healthy skepticism toward the government.   While their Am. Hist. lessons have been sketchy (Franny's getting the full tour in eighth grade next year), I feel like I've laid a nice, liberal, "question authority" (just not your mother's authority) foundation in my young.

Neal: Well, you're the one who was going on about the glories of social activism a couple of weeks ago. How was I to know you'd pull out the big mockery guns when I dropped a college sophomore reference?

In any case, we're trying to plant little social-justice roots here and there with Elijah. We talk about homelessness in very simple terms, and he's already telling us that he's saving money in his piggy bank so he can help out if food ever gets too expensive. It's funny that we're teaching "question authority" (outside the home), because my parents taught me the exact opposite. I recall a screaming battle because I didn't want to join ROTC. Me. Join ROTC. Seriously? They must have known me better than that. They saw it as unpatriotic. I wanted to say, no, it's just that I wouldn't make a good soldier. Trust me, the Army will thank you someday.

Erika: Sorry, I know that was a switcheroo on my part.  I mean, sure, I'll drive my kids to Sacramento to do a big school rally with a bunch of crazy performance artists, but no, we're not reading a lot of Howard Zinn around here.  What can I say?  I get all fired up about some things and then lapse into utter entropy on other fronts.  I'm demonstrating inconsistency to my children on a daily basis.  

But the larger point is this:  We do what we can to communicate our values to our kids when and how we can.  Either they will get on board, or they will rebel.  But what if they rebel against rebellion?  Well, that's a fear we all must live with.  Rebellion is quintessentially American (a point you no doubt made to your parents).  By blowing off the ROTC, you were exercising your right as an American, though I'm sure your folks didn't see it that way.  In my eyes, that makes you a bonafide American hero, and I salute you.

Neal: I don't necessarily see rebellion as political in nature, though, at least not in terms of the politics we were discussing. Yeah, some of my family was hard-core Republican, but others were at least moderately liberal. The way I turned out, while not a foregone conclusion, isn't exactly a shocker. In fact, I never rebelled as a youth at all, which is part of the reason I walk around with my middle finger extended as an adult. I don't know what that has to do with the original discussion, but, hey, parenting can confound the mind.

Erika Schickel: Here in our house we have been completely swept up in a fever of political activism.   My girls and I have found ourselves at ground zero in an uprising of California moms against budget cuts to education.  For our out-of-state readers: The California State Legislature (led, of course by der Governator, the Honorable Arnold Schwarzenegger) is about to once again try to balance the budget on the backs of our kids, by making draconian cuts to education.   Know that California is already number 48 in school spending in the country.  An incredible statistic made even more mind-blowing by the fact that we have the world’s sixth largest economy.  In our house, we are a public school family by both choice and necessity: It's true that we cannot afford private school, but my husband and I have always believed in public education.

Yesterday, the LAUSD teacher's union staged a massive, district-wide, hour-long walkout.  Thousands of teachers, parents, and kids across Los Angeles held up the start of the school day by rallying in front of their respective schools, brandishing handmade signs, and chanting slogans.   Georgia made a sign that read, "Parents don't have time to home school, they have jobs just like teachers!" (which I thought was an interesting take on the issue), and we marched in circles chanting, "Educate, Don't Terminate!"  (Read my post on LA Observed.)

Next week, we are getting on an RV caravan of Burning Moms and heading up to Sacramento for the California Children's Rally, which is going to be a history-making event.  We will stage a theatrical happening on the capitol steps, featuring kids singing, square dancing, playing auto harps, etc.  My fourth-grader will sing an old gold-miner's tune with lyrics tweaked to reflect our cause.  Sorry to be so long-winded and political, but we are on fire around here.

We live in troubled times, for sure.  Often I feel like raising kids is a perilous task.  How do we prepare them for an uncertain future without going all Linda Hamilton in Terminator II on them? It may not yet be time for arms training and German shepherds, but the generation we are raising is going to hold the keys to the future of our civilization.  So if there is a silver lining to be found here, it is that this educational emergency is teaching my kids a valuable lesson in political activism and citizenship.  They are learning that part of being an American means speaking out for what you believe in.  Literally.  On a street corner.  And that there is great joy and pride in that.   And that it is up to us to create the future we want.  Who was it that said, "We are the change we want to see in the world"?  Mahatma Obama?  Exciting times to be a parent, don'tcha think?

Neal Pollack: There's nothing wrong with taking your children to protests -- it's admirable, and especially if they're into the cause -- I guess I'm just not an uber-activist type. To me, it's just as important to teach your kids certain basic political values: tolerance, charity, and Obama-awesomeness. It's important that my son grows up believing that it's totally acceptable for two men or two women to marry, or to adopt kids, and that everyone deserves a decent free education and good health care. That said, I've seen a lot of annoying, didactic people speaking on street corners and have attended a bunch of useless protests in my time. So I would say that it's important to speak your mind, stand by your values, and do what you think is right, but you don't ALWAYS have to march to make it happen. Jesus, I sound like I'm saying, "I do not believe in the dictatorship of the proletariat," but I don't mean that at all. Really, my kid is just five, and big crowds freak him out, so the lunatic temper tantrum that would result from taking him to such an event would far outweigh the benefits of attendance. It's an ancient Chinese curse. "May you live in exciting times to be a parent."

Erika:  Well, I used to feel exactly as you do, but now I'm starting to feel like that's a bit of a cop-out.  Sure, everything helps, and teaching our children basic good values is hugely important, but the world isn't going to change if we all sit at home simply separating our recyclables, forwarding MoveOn emails, and reading our kids Jennifer Has Two Daddies. I've found that as my kids have grown older and more world-aware, they are leading me back to the activism I gave up in my thirties (when I had kids). Only now the stakes feel so much higher.  Not only is the world in worse shape, but also now it's specific:  I'm fighting for my kids and their kids' futures.  Where once protest felt abstract --  "No Nukes!" -- now it is specific: "Cuts Hurt (My) Kids!"  Also, there's the "Obama-awesomeness" factor.  This political season inspires me toward action.  Obama's message gives me hope, and energy to try to create change.  One of the things that's so exciting about the California Children's Rally is that we're trying to reinvent protest.  Make it positive and kid-friendly and fun. There will be no adult voices, no speeches.  Just parents and kids square dancing and baking cookies and playing kazoos -- and demonstrating to our government that this is a generation worth fighting for.

Neal: I hear you, and respect what you're doing, and I'm sure we'll join you as soon as our son's politics advance beyond, "It's not nice to be a meanie" and "I want a cookie!"

Erika: Yes! We all want cookies! And we’ll be serving them in Sacramento!