Are Kids Good for Your Health?
The pitter-patter of little feet may be just the right tonic.
May 1, 2000 (San Francisco) -- Three days before Thanksgiving rolled around last fall, I turned to the section on nursing homes in the Yellow Pages. No, I wasn't scouting out emergency care possibilities for an older relative. I was looking for a place to visit with my 18-month-old twins, a place that would distract me from my usual holiday tally of every odd remark uttered by my extended family.
At 10 a.m. Thanksgiving morning, I pushed the stroller into the Jewish Home for the Aged, a lovely, old brick building with colorful artwork on the walls. At the end of a hallway sat seven women, dressed in stylish pantsuits, who greeted us with the ardor of long-suffering fans finally rewarded by the appearance of a matinee idol, or suave singer Tom Jones, perhaps.
"Twins! A boy! A girl!"
A lanky, smooth-faced woman stood and bowed to me. Her petite friend gave us the thumbs-up. "You are the mother! Most wonderful!"
At least, I think that's what they were saying. Mostly, they spoke Russian. We strolled on. At every turn, the twins, Claire and Drew, let kind strangers stroke their cheeks and rub their chubby legs. Claire rode on Mrs. Glickman's lap in a wheelchair; Drew tossed around the pink slippers in Mrs. Vanoss' closet.