Leslie A.M. Smith

Marketing ≠ Advertising ≠ Public Relations

2012-01-18T07:30:00.000-08:00

Synonyms? No.

Almost the same thing? No.

Duplication of efforts? Absolutely not!

Contrary to how the words ‘marketing,’ ‘advertising,’ and ‘public relations’ are commonly used in the marketplace, they are not interchangeable. Here is the simplest definition I can give you to help you understand the relationship of these three words.

Marketing

Marketing is the big umbrella term here. I like to describe marketing using Four Ps: Product, Price, Place, Promotion. As you can see, marketing means more than promoting a product or service. It means developing and offering a product or service that people want, then putting it in the right market, at the right time, at the right location and then strategically getting the word out about it.

The P for Promotion branches into two segments: Advertising and Public Relations. These two ways of promoting an item or service (your Product) are not the same thing. Both Public Relations and Advertising are meant to evoke feelings about your product to the point that your audience will be inclined to buy your product, that’s where the similarities end. Though they have a common goal, they are completely different and work hand-in-hand for a really successful campaign.

Advertising

The easiest way to define this was how my advertising professor in college described it. “Advertising is paid persuasion.” You buy ads. You dictate where they will go, the size, the copy and the artwork. You get exactly what you paid for and if you placed the ad in an outlet that reaches your target market, then you might garner some sales. Placing just one ad won’t do it except in rare circumstances. You have to keep the ad going with some consistency to get the results you want.

Public Relations

If Advertising is an anchor, then Public Relations is a cloud. Public relations activities are those things that help you relate to your customer. The message is carried through different channels than advertising. Contests, giveaways, news articles, awards, advocacy efforts, and so on, down to the basics of how you answer your phone are all elements of public relations. As deliberate as PR activities are, the results are in the hands of others. Journalists, editors, and your target audiences decide what they will do with the information you give them as part of your PR plan.

That’s as simple as I can make it. Now you can use the words with some confidence that you know what you are talking about.

Saving the World as a Marketing Technique

2011-08-24T10:02:00.000-07:00

For poor children. For cancer research. To save the rainforest. For more sales!

Is “social responsibility” a “marketing angle”? The answer is yes, and sometimes more than that. I have used social-conscious appeals for my own clients and they have worked great. Lately, however the trend is growing and businesses are designed completely around this aim. In other words, saving the world in one way or another is the purpose of their company, enmeshed in their business plan, not just an overlay in their marketing plan.

The way to the cause

Here are three main avenues that businesses choose to save the world:

1. Nonprofits including foundations and philanthropic agencies with a specific cause;

2. For-profit businesses that launch specific campaigns for a cause (the marketing overlay); and 3. For-profit businesses that are built around a specific cause.

Lately the retail sector seems to be on fire to save the world, including for-profit businesses with an aim to make a difference. The Body Shop was one of the first I can remember that encouraged reusing their plastic bottles and making it popular to forego a bag for your merchandise. Now it’s a prevalent values statement for companies. Whether it’s a free pair of shoes going to a third world country for every pair you buy (TOMS), or a percentage of proceeds going to medical research (Happy Nappers, and many more), these philanthropic endeavors draw us to products so we too can help save the world.

Is it a gimmick?

When the purchase of a product benefits the world, the feel good appeal puts consumers in a position to reason, “If I buy this, I help the world too. How wonderful!”

Reading TOMS website, you’ll find it very convincing that selling shoes in a for-profit environment (online, Nordstrom) is a means to an end. Basically, that the mission of the company is to shod children around the globe, and selling shoes helps make that mission possible. It’s no different than a non-profit holding a dinner auction to raise money to buy books for local children. Same result, different angle. Very clever!

If you’re going to buy it anyway, okay. But let’s be clear that those companies are not philanthropic, 501 c 3 nonprofit organizations. They sell stuff and make money. They are using their generosity as a marketing angle to get you to choose their product over another—and join their team to save the world. The retail sales price of one of the “buy one and another goes overseas” products, pays for two of those products, the shipping to get the one to a third world country, the staff to oversee that endeavor as well as the production of the product, and enough money to make a profit. In other words, you are helping to save the world with your pocketbook, which is similar to a nonprofit contribution, but the company makes a profit. The company also benefits from the marketing and perhaps tax deduction of its donation. The retail price for a pair of TOMS, for instance, ranges from $38 for kids to $98 for a pair of women’s vegan boots and $100 for men’s perforated leather shoes. Not exactly on the low end and not a tax deduction for you.

Does it Work?

As a consumer, you can instead buy the competitor’s product for half the price and give the difference to your favorite nonprofit. But, as a start-up business, this might be an angle to consider. After all, TOMS has donated more than 1,000,000 pairs of shoes.

Lately it’s very cache, even important, to have a social-responsibility factor in your marketing plan, your mission, or in your core values. It does work. People want to feel they are backing companies that recycle, use sustainable products and natural resources responsibly, and have an organic, natural feel to them.

I think this is a generational trend as much as it is part of the prevailing “rivers of thought.” The Millennial Generation is generally socially liberal and is disgusted by waste (i.e. paper bags), and tends to feel a strong obligation to take care of the earth. Composting = good; drilling for oil = bad. Companies that don’t have a social agenda are off-putting to them.

What Can You Do?

More old-school professionals are not as blatant with their community service. They volunteer to serve on boards, they chair fundraisers for non-profit organizations and they sponsor charities with cash and prize donations. Their service is personal and doesn’t necessarily involve their whole business and its personnel.

If you run a small business and a cause is not already at the center of your existence, there are still many ways to help without doubling your prices to do it. Local eatery Johnny Rebs has coin jars on the tables next to bowls of peanuts for their patrons to deposit a few coins or a dollar when they dine. Their “Shell Out for Charity” campaign raises money for charities that rotate throughout the year.

Martha Alderson, the Plot Whisperer promised to plant a tree for every Like she got on her Facebook page during a certain time period. She reports that 120 tree seedlings were planted in American forests from her campaign.

You can do something simple or you can choose to do something very ambitious like create your own fundraiser or service campaign. Large or small, it is important to give back to your local—or global—community.

What Else Is True?

2011-08-15T15:56:00.000-07:00

How many versions of the truth are there? Some would argue that the truth is finite and therefore just one answer for any question. That’s true in math and for some sciences, but not for most of everyday life.

More than once, I have used kaleidoscopes in training presentations to represent that there are many versions of the truth. Ask three people to look through a kaleidoscope and tell you what color is in the center and you are more than likely to get three different answers—all true.

I use this demonstration to show that many people—though appearing to disagree—can in fact be telling the truth. It’s the truth as they see it, as they know it and commit to it. Some people are open to understanding that other answers may be correct and some people are insistent that their answers are the ONLY right answers. That’s where group dynamics get interesting.

I’m not suggesting to abandon all of your opinions in the name of compassion or cultural sensitivity. I want you to apply this thinking to your press releases. Most of the time, your press release will be used as a starting point for a reporter. The reporter will interview people that you mentioned and people that you didn’t. The reporter might already have an idea about your topic and take a completely different angle than what you suggested, simply because they see it differently.

Before you issue a press release, read it like a reporter taking it as an assignment, acknowledging that the reporter sees the center of the kaleidoscope differently than you do. Ask yourself these questions:

1. Does anybody care about this? Have I compelled them to care? What’s newsworthy about it?

I once had a client who was nominated for an award that she did not win. She asked me to issue a press release about it. About what? As Gertrude Stein said, “There’s no there there.” Unless there was something she had overcome to get nominated in the first place, there was no reason any newspaper would pick it up. There were no qualifications for the nomination either, anyone could nominate anyone.

2. Can a reporter take action with this story?

In other words, let the reporter know your news before it happens so they can be there and take some pictures. If you are reporting something that already happened—a decision, an event, an award—then supply pictures and quotes to the press regarding the reaction to what happened.

3. If a reporter speaks to my competition or opponent on this topic, what will he or she say?

Anticipate your opponent’s side of the story and refute it. Right up front, just get the naysayers out of the way. If you know the other guy says the center of the kaleidoscope is yellow when you contend it is blue, then address it like this. “Though many people claim that the center is yellow, they fail to take into account that the kaleidoscope needs to be turned 45° in order to be viewed according to the manufacturer’s recommendation. When used properly, the viewer sees blue.” Hyperbole aside, you want to address the issue and get it out in the open in a way that leads the reader to agree with you. Some reporters will incorporate your statement and not call the opposing side for an opinion, while others will call your competition right away.

4. Are my statistics and facts accurate and proved by a legitimate agency or organization? Are there statistics refuting my argument?

This is extremely important. It’s very easy to lie with truthful statistics. If I say, “Our program has a 98% success rate,” that sounds impressive. But if I left out that the success rate is only based on the 40% who stay in the program, that could pose a problem if the reporter digs that far. Perhaps 40% retention is better than your competition and you’re still okay. Think about the other side of the statistics before you publish them. If 40% stay in the program, what happens to the 60% who dropout?

Be mindful that there are more versions of the truth than what you are putting in your press release. Think them through for optimum results.

Derek Sivers has become one of my favorite speakers to watch on YouTube with short TEDtalks. Here’s his video that demonstrates how things are different (or weird) worldwide.

Cash Caveat

2011-07-25T10:59:00.000-07:00

Times are tough for everyone, but especially small business owners. I have noticed a few e-mails and Facebook postings offering great discounts if you pay cash. Cash is king but promoting that you want to be paid in cash and will offer a sizable discount for it, is like waving a big red flag that says, “Turn me in for tax evasion!”

The Board of Equalization, where businesses report and pay sales tax in California, has a long list of clues that help people report possible tax fraud. If you are not guilty of tax evasion, then take some steps to make sure you are in the clear. Cash is still a legitimate currency, of course.

1. Cash vs. Credit Cards

You, as a business owner, may offer a discount for using cash instead of credit cards to avoid the business fees that banks charge for using credit cards. Some businesses even offer to “pay the sales tax for you,” meaning they back the tax out of whatever price you pay. These days, that’s a pretty decent savings in most parts of California.

2. Receipts

As a legitimate, tax-paying business owner, you need to issue a receipt for cash or any other type of payment. Not issuing receipts is another red flag to the Board of Equalization.

3. Liquid Cash

It’s common when a store is liquidating its inventory because it is closing, that the management or the liquidators running the closing sale will ask for cash. A receipt is still necessary.

As a customer, be aware of businesses offering certain programs as cash only. They might not just be evading their taxes, they might be on the brink of going out of business. Don’t spend $60 cash on the day spa program that promises five visits with several services, that each usually cost more than $60--especially if they are selling it to you in the parking lot. Something’s wrong with that picture. They might be closing tomorrow leaving their customers with no recourse for the services or to get their money back.

When businesses avoid paying their taxes it puts a greater strain on city, county and state resources and may actually cause taxes to go up.

Be a good corporate citizen: if you offer a discount for paying cash, and want to promote it to the masses, then make sure you follow the rules and keep yourself beyond reproach.

Communication Let You Down?

2011-07-15T10:34:00.000-07:00

Gone are the days when if you wanted to speak to someone you had to call or write a letter. There are so many ways to communicate with people these days that communication is increasingly casual and many times on the verge of being downright inappropriate. Let’s review the means of communications we have at our fingertips and their related courtesies to make sure we are portraying ourselves the best way we can.

Memorandums or Random Memos?

If you need to communicate with a client or colleague for official business, use a memorandum. A formal document that is dated and clearly lists the to and from with real names will do more for you and your image than a quickly typed e-mail with abbreviations and cutesy e-mail names. You can attach the memo to an e-mail, fax it or even mail it if you prefer. If this document has to go in a file—paper or electronic form–you’ll want to be remembered for being professional. Your inter-office culture is likely more casual and accepts e-mails as official documentation.

Communicating in the Same Language

Someone recently showed up late to a meeting with me and told me they had sent me an e-mail. I had no such e-mail on my phone and figured she sent it to the wrong person; I didn’t worry about it. Later that day I found that she had sent me a message on Facebook to let me know she was running late. We had set the lunch date via e-mail, that was the standard we were using. A Facebook message is not e-mail and unless you have established that as a means to communicate with someone professionally, don’t assume that everyone sees it the same way.

E-Mail Goes Both Ways

Undoubtedly you receive emails that you can’t respond to properly when you get them, but make it a goal to respond to every email at some point--unless the conversation is over. A quick response that tells the sender you can chat more later will suffice. If you’re like me, you get irritated when people don’t respond to e-mails. Some people don’t check their e-mail on a regular basis. I don’t know how they do that, but I know not to e-mail them with anything urgent. If you use several e-mail addresses and don’t check them all, that is your responsibility not the sender’s. Don’t blame them for sending to the “wrong” address. E-mail addresses are like phone numbers. It’s your responsibility to let people know if you change or disconnect one. If you don’t want e-mail, don’t give out your e-mail address. It’s that simple.

Social Media Sharing

Social media, largely Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter, is a great means to broadcast to larger audiences. You can create groups on Facebook and LinkedIn, and hashtag topics (#) on Twitter to reach a particular market. Social media is not where you speak of confidential changes in your company or industry. Further, it is not where you complain about those same issues. Using social media to gripe will ruin your image.

Information Broadcast

It holds true that if you don’t want information forwarded, then don’t put it in an e-mail. If you need to have confidential communications with a individuals or a group of people via e-mail, then set that as a communications guideline with that person or group, and make sure you have established some trust prior to setting this rule.

Texting? We're not even going to go there. Keep that for quick, casual messages and nothing else.

The best way to set communication standards is to model them. If you don’t communicate properly you lower the expectation of how people will communicate with you. You know what you want your brand to be, communicate accordingly.

Biography of a Brand

2011-04-22T07:35:00.001-07:00

I know this sophisticated woman with coiffed hair and stylish clothing. She can be very formal and professional, but she can also be the life of the party. She’s passionate about ensuring that the children in Long Beach come first—that their needs are met and they are given opportunities that they deserve. She has many friends who she teaches to be effective leaders by showing them how to lead volunteers and organize successful programs and events, she feels strongly about her way of doing things, but is open to new techniques. She’s charming and witty and very clever. She’s kind and considerate and a perfect hostess with perfect manners. As such, she is always looking for new friends to share her knowledge with and help make Long Beach an even better community.

If you think I just described a favorite aunt, guess again. I just described the Junior League of Long Beach (JLLB) as if the organization were a person. I have been a JLLB member for ten years and have great respect for this 80 year old nonprofit in Long Beach. How I described her tells you a lot about her personality and sets your expectations for being around her.

To describe your organization as if it were a person, will help you define your brand. From what you read above, does the JLLB send out thank you notes? You bet! Does she have an open door policy for membership? Yes, but you have to go through a new member training curriculum, of course. She does things properly and thoroughly!

Your brand is more than your logo and the colors you use. It is the visceral response you evoke from everything you do. When you don’t behave within your brand, you are essentially breaking character. If you have established a strong brand, acting inconsistent with your brand is conspicuous. If you don’t have a strong brand, and people don’t know what to expect from you, then nothing you do is conspicuous or meaningful. You won’t be remembered as anything special.

You establish a brand by offering consistency not just in using your logo consistently, but in the services you offer, the core values you adopt, and the way you behave. If the JLLB offered a pin-up calendar as a fundraiser, that would be conspicuously incongruent with whom I described above.

Try it! Personify your product, service or organization. Is it easy to describe? Now measure your marketing materials, programs, fundraisers, and more, against this description. You will see right away when you are going against the true personality—the brand—of your company or nonprofit.

Happy profiling!

Marketing – What’s Your Schtick?

2011-03-21T07:36:00.000-07:00

Last week I taught a class on branding at the Long Beach Nonprofit Partnership. I shared with the participants a few techniques that can really jumpstart their brand. One successful way to market an individual, an organization, or a product is to develop a schtick. Yes, a schtick! “Schtick” is a Yiddish word that means a bit or a routine, mostly used to talk about comedians. I’m using it here to talk about an angle for communicating to your audiences.

You need an unpredictable way to deliver your message and when you create a schtick as a clever mechanism for delivering your message, the message becomes indelibly connected with you.

This is especially important if you are in a niche with a lot of competition. Marketing your product or service in a way that is unique and memorable will set you apart.

You can develop a schtick in a myriad of ways, even by coining a catchphrase. Here are three ideas that you might be able implement easily that go deeper than a tagline.

SYSTEM

Creating a “system” that your clients can use is a great way. We Americans like a quick, easy recipe for success. We like it when the things we like are all together too. Take for instance, Curves for Women. Curves is a small boutique workout center for women. They developed a 30-minute workout using circuit training to help women feel comfortable going to a gym and achieving the results they want.

– Curves did not develop the circuit training method.

– Curves is not the first to have small boutique workout centers.

– Curves is not the first to cater to women

Curves put all those things together and created a successful brand.

STEPS

Steps are an easy way to mechanize the service you offer, but maybe not all of your services. The most famous, and probably most successful steps plan is the Twelve Step program developed by Alcoholics Anonymous founder Bill W. He developed the steps that worked for him and shared them in order to help others. Twelve Step programs now exist for many issues. Will it work for yours? Boil down your program to “five steps to keep a child healthy”; “three steps to avoid foreclosure on your home”; etc. Make one of the steps a call to your office.

– Bill W. was an alcoholic, but not the first.

– With the success of Twelve Steps, you know that a big number does not really make people shy away. How many diets promote 30 days to a slimmer you?

Steps make your program a recipe for success.

ANALOGOUS SITUATIONS

If what you are offering to solve is either a complex concept or is too close to home for people to readily face (the elephant in the room phenomenon), then create an analogy.

John Gray wrote “Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus.” This was a great schtick he used to help people visualize that men and women are very different—planets between us! Both genders could relate to the way he spoke about them. He created a winning brand and a dynasty of products from the one analogy.

– John Gray was not the first person to ever say that men and women are different.

– He was not the first to ever write a book about gender differences.

– John Gray created a winning way to communicate the gender differences concept and take it away from the dining room table or the bedroom.

Don’t be afraid of choosing one of these techniques for marketing your product or service. Once you develop it, create a way to promote it or it is totally futile. Take my word for it!

Building a Winning Brand

2011-03-14T13:32:00.000-07:00

I'm teaching a class this Thursday, March 17, for the Long Beach Nonprofit Partnership. Unless you are part of a national nonprofit, building a local brand may seem insurmountable. It doesn't have to be. Learn how to focus your marketing to build a winning brand that helps your nonprofit organization meet its mission more effectively.

You can see the details by clicking here. Hope to see you there!

The Envelope Please

2011-02-16T09:31:00.000-08:00

One way to really get your name on the map is to issue an award or awards. There are several ways to do that and you don’t have to have a multi-million dollar budget to get a name for yourself.

If you think your organization or company doesn’t have enough stature with the public to offer an award, think again. Would you know what the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts & Sciences is if they didn’t host the Oscars?

Here are a few categories of awards to consider. Regardless of the type of your awards, tie the awards ceremony to an event. It makes a great centerpiece for a lunch or dinner and allows you to create a fundraiser. This will help spread the word about your award. If you have a product that you sell, announce the award on your website or blog and draw people in to a sale to commemorate the award.

Advancement

Is there a scientist or advocate who has furthered the cause that your company or nonprofit organization supports? Acknowledge them with a humanitarian award. If they also happen to be a great speaker, allow a time for the recipient to speak about the strides they have made in your field. You need to gauge how interesting the topic is and how dynamic the speaker is. Keep it short and if the audience is enthralled you can let it go longer.

Have they written a book? Having a book signing is another way to bring people to your awards ceremony. Review the book first so you know what it is you are promoting. Make sure it has something to do with why you are giving the award.

Quality

You see a lot of “quality” awards when it comes to children and baby products and toys—Year’s Best Toy, Safest, Smartest, and so on. Cars and restaurants also have layers of awards bestowed upon them. Do you even know what J.D. Power and Associates does besides give out awards? Who was Malcolm Baldrige? James Beard? Zagat?

These awards had to start somewhere and it might have been a list of top ten, based on some simple criteria. Using social media it is much easier to issue a list of your own and disseminate it to the masses.

Three simple steps to acknowledging quality:

Hold a press conference to announce the criteria you used and what made it onto your list.
Invite your top slot to be represented at the press conference.
Send a special logo to the winners so they can market your quality awards for you.

Once you have established your “quality” awards, issue your list every year at a time that makes sense for your organization. Positioning yourself as an authority is a great way to become the go-to organization for the media.

Contest

In some ways a contest can be more labor intensive and in some ways less. You have to spend more time collecting the contest entries than you would just picking a person to recognize at a luncheon. On the other hand, your public is creating all the content for you. Think about “America’s Funniest Home Videos.” They just have to re-broadcast what America sends in. Wading through all the entries can be tiresome, but there are ways to leverage another media story from the judges. The judges have their own unique stories they bring to help endorse your product or service. Think about the judges on “American Idol.” We know all about them as stories unique from the contestants that they judge. The process of replacing judges is yet another thread of media stories all around a contest.

A people’s choice award is also an essential element to driving masses of people to your website where you host the voting.

One advantage of a contest is that you can do it with a very limited budget. People like to win things and without wading through actual talent, you can simply pull a name out of a hat.

Don’t shy away from creating awards. Awards have tremendous public relations mileage and can really jumpstart your position of authority.

My Name is Url

2010-08-11T14:38:00.000-07:00

Call it url as in Earl or U-R-L; it makes no difference to me. What does make a difference is that it is a marketing tool you should not marginalize or overlook. The URL, if you didn’t know is a web address. Technically, URL stands for unique resource locator. These days the URL for a product is more valuable than the trademark. Speaking of which, if you have the trademark on something, you should obtain the URL for it as soon as possible.

Easy Access

If you have the main website for your company but you have a unique product or service that is exclusive and worthy of branding, buy the URL with that product or service name. Link it to your main site and link the main site back to the particular service, product or event. Your marketing will be so much easier when you do not have to tell people how to navigate through your site, or give out a 50-character URL as it appends to your main site to see information about your stellar new product.

What’s In a Name?

Be careful with names. You might have a snappy name and have a very clever graphic and you are very proud of both. Now put all the words together. Read it. Does it spell something different than you meant it to? On your business card you can use capital letters to signify where each new word starts but don’t expect your clients to type it in that way.

Imagine if you have a creative writing company and you want to use the phrase “the pen is mightier than the sword.” Smoosh it together: thepenismightierthanthesword. Read it. Oops! Words number two and three become a new word. It’s now a URL that Viagra wants. Your options are to choose a new name or buy the URL with hyphens between the words. Hyphens can get tricky. You are expecting people to remember them and if they misplace them or forget one, they will have a heck of a time finding you.

You can use .org if you are a nonprofit and .com or .net otherwise. A more complete list includes: .net, .org, .biz, .bz, .eu, .info, .us, .mobi, .pro, .co, .tel, .tv, .co.uk, .us.com.

If you have a killer name, buy the site with more than one suffix to protect it. It is easy to “point” URLs to other sites and the registrars usually offer that for free.

Potato(e)

Do people commonly misspell your name? Some words are tricky to spell, for example, ie or ei, -ary or -ery, -er or –re. If you have a clever play on words, some people might not ever understand. Buy the misspelled word URL too and have it point to your main site. It’s another $20 dollars or so. Some registrars offer bulk discounts when you are registering URLs. Look for those. There is really no reason to spend more than $20 for a new URL. If you are trying to buy an existing name, that’s a different story. My favorite registrars for service and value are Dreamhost, GoDaddy and Hover.

After you secure your URL, use it to its fullest extent to market your product or service.

Marketing Resource: Your Source

2010-08-04T15:28:00.000-07:00

Source and resource, it’s your product. Your product can be a tremendous marketing resource. How can you re-package your product or service to create a fresh story about what you do? You see large products do it all the time. One of my favorite examples of this is breakfast cereal.

It’s a product to be consumed, so the more that is consumed, the more sales they have. Simple. People are only going to eat so many bowls of cereal for breakfast. There would be a cap on sales even if they had 100% market share. It is still designed to eat in the morning. Sure they can suggest you eat it with yogurt instead of milk, but that just helps the yogurt industry. Instead, they created recipes that require the product to be used at different times of the day.

Rice Krispy Treats and Chex Mix are the two that come to mind. After years of offering those recipes on the side of the box, they packaged those products to make it even easier to consume. Then they added variations to the snack lines—Chex Mix with cool ranch favoring, Rice Krispy Treats with chocolate chips and so on.

What is your ‘breakfast cereal’ that can transform and create more need? Think about ways to re-package your product or service either in a bigger family-size package or smaller bite-size portions. Here are a few examples to get your imagination flowing.

The Whole Enchilada

Maybe you are a photographer and your bread and butter product is taking baby portraits. Who can resist buying baby photos? Instead of a sitting and an 8” X 10” bundled in a package, expand it to include the proofs placed in an attractive photo album for an extra $100. A Mother’s Day package could have all of this and a locket with a photo of baby placed inside. Don’t forget to offer framing!

Smaller Appetites

If you are a graphic designer who usually does large, comprehensive branding packages, perhaps you can create a small business logo package. Abbreviate the process, the product and the price tag. This is an especially good tactic to take during traditional slow months.

One of your best marketing resources is the source of your business. Source and resource.

Move the Ball Around, Hit the Open Man, and Play the Good Defense

2010-07-29T18:02:00.000-07:00

That, in a nutshell, is basketball. At least according to my father. This three step process also applies to merchandising. Ah, ah ah! Stop right there. If you were going to leave this blogpost because you don’t have a store, guess again. Do you have a business? Then whatever you talk about is your store front. What you don’t talk about, but offer is your inventory. Read on and freshen up your display for better sales.

1. Move the Ball Around

If you have a storefront, you literally need to move stuff around. Customers become blind to what just sits in the front all the time. Trade it out and move it around. If a customer sees something new every time he or she walks in, it creates a sense of urgency that if they don’t buy it ‘today,’ you are going to sell out.

Service providers, the same thing applies to you. Change your spiel so you aren’t beating a dead horse at every single networking meeting. And consider changing your website’s home page. If what is usually on tab #3 is suddenly front and center, you might find you’ll find some interested parties in that particular product or service.

2. Hit the Open Man

When you change things up and keep moving forward, you are going to get the ball into the hands of the player who can score much quicker than if you just sit there and dribble. The scoring player in this case is your new client. You have to pass and pass to get it to the right person(s) positioned to take it to the basket.

3. Play the Good Defense

The best defense is a good offense. Focus on customer service. Somewhere down the road businesses starting getting sloppy and getting defensive. The customer is no longer always right. In so many places and with so many service providers it feels like the policy is that the customer is always trying to rip you off. Sure, there’s a player or two who need to foul out, but the rest of the team deserves a good teammate—be that teammate. Focus on good sportsmanship and you will win customers for life—true fans!

Suit up and practice your free throws. In this economy you can’t miss any easy shots. Swoosh!

Are You In the Way of Your Own Success?

2010-07-12T20:58:00.000-07:00

I have spoken to many business owners this year who are struggling. Reviewing some of their goals, it is pretty evident if they tweaked their businesses just slightly, they’d fill a niche that might be more profitable than what they are doing.

Understandably, business owners have their egos completely entwined in their business plan. Gently, gently suggesting a new idea—not even a new idea, but an offshoot—can really rock their self-confidence.

“Well, I want to work on my core,” they said. “THEN I’ll try some of these other ideas.” What she or he can’t hear is that the core isn’t working, at least not right now. Granted, it might be the economy or some other circumstance out of their control. But what can you sell while the economy is stabilizing? If you sell umbrellas when it’s raining, then sell parasols while it’s sunny. You have to have some flexibility and listen to your customers. If the only thing you know about your customers is what you derived from your own market study, take the hard gulp and admit you got the wrong information.

I recently heard that Kodak hired an executive to “listen.” That person’s job is to pay attention to what people are saying about Kodak out in the marketplace. What are customers telling you? Are they all asking you for the same thing that you don’t offer? Maybe they know something you don’t. It’s great to know what you are all about, but you need to meet the needs of your customer. If that means expanding what you offer, then do it.

Remember that adage, “the customer is always right”? What that means is: give the people what they want! Yes, maybe you’re a burger place, but having a veggie burger isn’t such a bad idea. If you offer party planning for children’s parties, why not for adults?

The truth is businesses morph a lot to find their way and turn a profit. Your core—or the thing you were most passionate about when you started—might catch on too. In the meantime, you need to make a living. Even if this is a start-up and you haven’t quit your day job, it won’t become your main source of income until you try to do anything you can to make it work.

Get out of the way of yourself and honor your customers by meeting their needs.

New Direction for Blog

2010-07-09T11:32:00.000-07:00

As you might have noticed, I have started another blog attached to my Blankie Keeper business. This new blog, http://blankiekeeper.blogspot.com, is full of craft ideas, recipes, product info and other topics that compliment that business and didn't quite fit here. I am posting there at least once a week. You can stop by and enjoy a tip or two for family fun and casual home life.

This blog will now be dedicated to that other business of mine--freelance writing and public relations consulting. Each week I will post once or twice with PR and marketing tips that can save you money and help build your business.

You can apply my tips to promote your product or service, nonprofit or for profit. There will be something for everyone to think about.

Check back each week for valuable information--you can take my word for it!

http://www.feingold.org/enews/giving2010.html

2010-06-10T09:38:00.000-07:00

http://www.feingold.org/enews/giving2010.html

The Look of Diversity

2010-05-26T07:17:00.000-07:00

This is just a quick aside, but I thought you might enjoy it.

I went to a luncheon last week, "Marketing to Mommy and Daddy" was the topic as part of the Orange County Chapter of the Public Relations Society of America's focus on diversity. This was one aspect of diversity they identified worthy of a discussion.

Upon arrival they gave us this bag of goodies sponsored by NBC Universal's diversity department. I'm not sure if that is a human resources department or an affirmative action group working toward diverse programming.

Here's the logo:

Boy, doesn't that look very similar to Leadership Long Beach's logo? I am not suggesting one group took the idea from the other group, I think that is just how we picture diversity these days. There are other "colorful people in circle" logos out there that also reflect a core value of diversity.

In this bag of goodies was an array of things with this logo: a really nice stadium blanket, a t-shirt, a pen, and a little bottle of hand sanitizer. Because nothing says diversity like hand sanitizer! I am sure there was not an intended message with these choices, I just found it funny.

It did make me wonder, what would you put in a diversity goodie bag that would be symbolic of diversity without being politically incorrect? Please share your ideas and remember, diversity is not covered just with a pack of crayons. Just as the OC PRSA showed, it also means parents and the myriad of stages that brings to your world, socio-economics, education, gender, regional differences, and so on.

Funny Things I’ve Noticed This Week

2010-05-18T09:24:00.000-07:00

What’s the Question?
I reconnected with an old friend last week. I e-mailed him to get some info for an article and we headed into small talk to reconnect after probably a year of no chat. He asked, “What shows do you watch these days?”

This made me laugh. He and I first met when “Cheers” and “St. Elsewhere”* were at their height, we were both roughly college age, so that was a great foundation for any friendship. I have to admit, you can tell a great deal about a person and their interests based on what they watch, as well as the stage of life they are in, but I still found it funny. It also occurred to me there were worse questions he could have asked, like: What’s your name again? What are you wearing? Or, Can you smell that?

Serious Retail Support
I recently sent an online inquiry to a retail company and got a response from customer service. Well, this wasn’t ANY customer service representative. You see at Tom’s of Maine they have “Citizen's Advocacy Representatives.” Seriously! If that title didn’t materialize after a motivational, politically correct, bionically inspirational conference, I don’t know where it might have come from. I’m not sure I feel advocated for as a citizen asking their company a question. I’ll let you know once I get an answer.

Speaking of Advocating
Can the Boeing workers please go back to work? I just want to get out of my car and say, “You have a job! GO DO IT!” The picket signs for more money and better healthcare are simply audacious when millions of people in this country are out of work. I’m embarrassed for them. I wish they realized how fortunate they are to not only get a paycheck, but that their employer pays any part of their health insurance, and sick days, and vacation pay is a blessing. Not to mention they have a community within the walls of their workplace. That’s the community that throws them birthday parties, baby showers, wedding showers, and retirement parties. The C-17 program might be completely canceled because of the strike and then they won’t have a job at all.

In addition, I am really not sure what picketing on the streets will do for them. Okay, I won’t buy a C-17 today ... or ever. Not even a used one. Happy?

I want to shout at them, “Unless you are being mistreated (as in bodily harm or name calling) or being threatened to be mistreated, GO BACK TO YOUR JOB AND TELL YOUR EMPLOYER THANK YOU! Your ‘statement’ that you should get paid more or should not have to contribute one cent to your own health insurance or deserve a better pension falls on deaf ears. Especially to those of us who are self-employed and pay for all of that 100% for ourselves. Be grateful because you are fortunate. Who is really being greedy here?”

Global What?
This week the weather in Southern California is unseasonably low and dreary. It’s the kind of rain that makes you think clouds are blowing razzberries down on the planet. I think my dog stopped shedding, it’s so chilly. The husband even put on the heater last night. It must be blazing hot somewhere else to make up for the global warming average. How ‘bout that?

* For you young people, you have probably caught “Cheers” in syndication, but “St. Elsewhere” was a great medical drama pre-dating “ER” that may have escaped your radar. It is worth mentioning that Denzel Washington was on “St. Elsewhere” with Howie Mandel—when he had loads of hair, Mark Harmon and Ed Begley, Jr. This show is really ripe for a VH1-style ‘where are they now’ show.

Why My Mothering is Successful

2010-04-22T14:02:00.000-07:00

As a mom you are charged with balancing the fine line of helping your children while instilling some independence. You have to empower them to do their best and be confident, but also to be humble and appreciate others’ efforts. It’s not always easy and it’s hard to know where to draw the line.

I’ve made it a point not to gush about every little thing they do as if they are geniuses and wonderful at everything. They aren’t. Why lie to them and build them up for a worse crash with the harsh reality of teammates, coaches, classmates and teachers who point out who is good, better, and best? I reserve all my lying for magical creatures like Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the Tooth Fairy. Talk about crashing … the end of those is near and I am steeled for the accusation of being a BIG FAT LIAR!

That’s not why my mothering is successful. I struggle with those things as much as any woman. I have discovered, however, that my maternal abilities for building self-esteem are completely natural.

Here’s my secret: I absolutely, positively suck at Mario Kart on the Wii. Shocking, I know. But it’s true. Twelfth place almost every time! I run off bridges, get stuck in corners. The truth is if I didn’t steer at all, I’d do better.

Steering is definitely my problem. I don’t just turn, I TTTUUUURRRRNNNNN! Off I go, over a banana or two and into the red question mark cube. What is up with those question mark cubes? The “good ones” are just a rainbow blur to me and I somehow miss hitting those—it’s the only thing on the track I do miss. Speaking of the track, why are the wooden paths the same color as the lava you are supposed to avoid? I’ve driven into that lava so many times completely unaware of where I was supposed to turn. This is why I like the blue highways and the tracks with arrows. Why don’t they all have arrows?

My older daughter is pretty good at it and my younger daughter drives more like I do. But still, she’s way better than I am. And this is where my Wii mothering has built up their self-esteem—and even their empathy.

They really can’t believe anyone can be as awful as I am. But it’s real--just ask my insurance agent! My children give me hugs to console me and say, “Poor Mommy!” as they pat my back. Then they giggle like crazy as they zip across the finish line for their “podium finishes” while I don’t even get to lap three. “Mommy didn’t even finish!” they blurt out in hysterics.

“I’ll build my own darn podium,” I mutter under my breath. "Why did Santa bring us this darn toy anyway? I question that fat guy's judgment!"

Even though I suck—and there is no other more polite way to put it—I keep playing. Not because I have much chance of ever getting better, but because it does so much darn good for their self esteem. I’m willing to take one for the team on this (I really have no other choice!).

Give the People What They Want

2010-04-07T09:27:00.000-07:00

I am completely sure nobody really wants an alternative fuel to use in our cars. You know why? We don’t have it. Sure, there was some hype over a corn-based-oline awhile back. What we do want is great televisions and cell phones.

In the late 70s I sat in the passenger seat of my mom’s LTD in hours-long lines to get gas on our assigned days. If you are too young to know what I am talking about, there was a fear that we—the United States—were going to run out of gas. Yes, about 35 years ago. There were assigned days that you could get gas—odd or even depending on the last digit of your license plate. Even with that, the lines to get gas were literally hours long.

The hype around “gas wars” was worse than “global warming.”

At the same time, we got a black box on top of our television that pirated ONTV. This was the earliest version I can remember of cable TV with movies. There was ONTV and SelecTV for a modest monthly fee and you got some movies. It was sort of like a movie channel in a hotel. The black box unscrambled what the neighbors were paying for and we got the signal. Similar to using your neighbor’s wireless these days.

The 80s came rolling in with dollar drink nights, multiple TV screen walls in bars and MTV. “I want my MTV!” said every 80s music star from Sting to Billy Idol. HBO, Nickelodeon, etc., etc. Oh, and we had enough gas to get to any bar or concert we wanted to get to. And though we still didn’t have flying cars like the Jetsons had, some people had car phones. They were big and heavy and bulky, but they were phones that worked in cars and that was pretty darn cool.

Did we get a new fuel in the 90s? No, but everyone got a cell phone and e-mail. We got pay-per-view on top of the hundreds more channels that were added to our cable TV. Remember those disks of AOL trial hours that used to come in the mail all the time? Remember dial up? Remember e-mail addresses that were numbers? The people wanted free e-mail addresses, unlimited access to the Internet, and better websites. We got all of those things.

2000s, okay we now have some hybrid electric/gas cars. Yawn! If we wanted golf carts, we could have had those a long time ago. Most people I know got a Prius just to be able to jump into the commuter lane without a passenger.

Never mind that, we have big flatscreen, high definition, even 3D televisions! We have bitty telephones that can take pictures, film video, access the Internet, and have a million apps to help you do whatever it is you want to do.

We want advances in TV; we want better phones; we’re riding our bikes and paying $3 a gallon for gas.

If the people really wanted an alternative fuel, wouldn’t one already be here?

Volunteer Work: My Third Child

2010-03-31T15:00:00.000-07:00

I just finished back-to-back-to-back major volunteer projects. They all blurred together but all were successful. The stream of work became a part of our family, like a third child. Boy is that child demanding!

Like some babies, this child was a really bad sleeper. Mommy was trying to get it to go to sleep at night but mostly it was wide awake all day and just lightly napped through the night.

I went from chairing a PTA fundraiser to coordinating the costumes for the school play to chairing a Junior League fundraiser. I know what you’re thinking and you’re right—that takes a special kind of crazy. Apparently, I’ve got just that!

When I said ‘yes’ to each thing, it’s because I really wanted to do each individual task. I knew they were bam, bam, bam on the calendar, but that made no difference. As it turned out, the tight schedule forced me to make decisions quickly and not wallow in the planning. (I work much better that way.)

Most of the time, I didn’t think about ever letting one thing go. I just kept moving forward.

As I was nurturing this baby, lots of other things fell by the wayside. Nothing urgent, but definitely some of the nice things that I would have liked to complete. I never wrote any thank you notes for my December birthday gifts or Christmas. The blank cards are still sitting on my desk. I missed a few friends’ birthdays and all of my siblings wedding anniversaries. I never worked on my taxes (don’t tell my husband). Breakfast with my family was nonexistent. Thanks to my friends and family for understanding that I had a baby that needed me.

That is not to say that volunteer work in this household is in its infancy or a new arrival. That is not the case at all. I met my husband when he volunteered on a committee for which I was the staff liaison. That was in 1992 and neither of us were new to voluntarism then either. I grew up with parents who volunteered and all of my siblings volunteer. I hope that we instilled this willingness to serve in our own children. They sometimes play meeting and we hope they never grow tired of that.

This week I returned to normal, sort of. I am batting cleanup with paper work and correspondence, washing costumes to be stored away, and trying very hard to unearth my desk that is piled with notes and files. Still volunteering, but the rush is over at least for now.

With each volunteer assignment, I learn something about myself. I learn that I could have handled a situation better or said thank you to a fellow volunteer one more time. I also usually learn at least one skill I did not have before.

Even though this third child of mine seems to have special needs, I would never give it up.

Dad Turns 80

2009-12-17T21:03:00.000-08:00

My dad turned 80 on December 7. He has always said he does not want to be a little old man who shuffles his feet and has a hard time maneuvering from linoleum to carpet. At 80, he is pretty darn healthy. He golfs once a week and volunteers at the church quite often. He has a good network of friend to whom he freely gives his time and energy. His physique would give Santa Claus a run for his money, but he still gets around very well.

My siblings and I had a surprise party for him Saturday night. My brother arranged to take him to dinner at his favorite restaurant for chicken piccata. They arrived with my nephew and sister-in-law and we could all see them come in as casual as ever. As my father turned the corner to the assembly of guests who yelled ‘surprise,’ my brother steadied my dad. Of course a risk of surprising even a healthy octogenarian is a heart attack. But no, he just gave us a dirty look that said, “What the hell?”

Stunned as he was he started recognizing faces and eventually started shaking guests’ hands. With about 40 guests from his working days as a bank examiner, his church family and his four adult children with their respective families, it was a really great party.

Chicken piccata was on the menu but ‘roast’ was the main event. All in good fun, of course, we told his politically incorrect jokes and toasted his sincere generosity and his somewhat crusty exterior.

Around the tables were signs that my sister and niece made that captured some catch phrases that are the lexicon of life with dad. Below are some of the most famous phrases and what they mean in our family lore.

1. “Dismount. Fight on Foot.” My father says this every time we park the car and need to get out. Get off your horse, stand and fight. It’s his personal version of “Brave heart.” You can draw your own Walter Mitty analogies.

2. “Move the ball around, hit the open man, play the good defense. Just trying to help the team.” This is of course, what any NCAA or NBA player should say when interviewed after a game. As well, this is the mantra that played in my head when I played basketball in high school. If only I got the ball, I would have done okay.

3. “Go to bed.” Easiest solution to any and every problem. If we had too much homework, a bad day at school or work, an argument with our mother – go to bed! Sleep on it and deal with it later if it didn’t magically disappear with the sandman.

4. “Good enough for government work.” This is when we got something done but it lacked any pizzazz or expertise. He ALWAYS offered this comment to class projects that were done at the last minute with limited resources—California mission building, science project volcanoes, various dioramas, etc. It doesn’t say much for the government-employed … or perhaps it says it all.

5. “Pert near out of strawberry glaze.” I’ll dissect this. First, ‘pert near’ is some sort of dialectal phrase that means ‘almost.’ He usually uses it sarcastically to mean we are nowhere near. Like when we have overestimated a recipe and made potato salad to feed an army—“we are pert near out of potato salad.”

Secondly, the strawberry glaze. There is one jar of strawberry glaze that he found in his cabinet many, many years ago. When my sister was in college and living on her own, she asked my brother one night to bring some food when he was going to go visit her in her apartment. My dad packed a sack of Campbell’s soup, maybe a loaf of bread or box of crackers and added the jar of strawberry glaze. Somehow that glaze made it back into the cabinet and has made many appearances since then. It’s been wrapped for Christmas, made it to Sacramento when I was living up there, and I think it is in his pantry right now.

In this case, one jar is pert near out, but will never be out.

8. “He knew the risks.” This is a new one that my father adopted from #2 grandkid, Allie. When Steve Irwin died tragically and somewhat ironically with a stingray to the heart, my sister and her husband were hesitant to tell Allie knowing she would be upset and perhaps a little afraid of the water after that. Instead she shrugged and said, “He knew the risks.” Logic trumped empathy.

Happy birthday, Dad!

Getting Dinner Ready in a Flash!

2009-10-14T19:54:00.001-07:00

If you are like me, not just the kids’ schedules heat up in the fall. Everything seems to go in hyper drive. Between ballet, soccer and PTA meetings, you struggle to break bread with your family and in a way that does not create a nutritional deficit. In a busy, busy life, dinner prep has to be quick. Here are my three best tips to get you to Christmas vacation. This also enters me to win a TwitterMoms and Samsung French door refrigerator. Read more about that here at Samsung.

My first tool is to use the broiler. Yes, the broiler! Remember that part of your oven you have relegated to make garlic bread and nothing more? Yes, that 500-degree mechanism that sears the taste inside. There’s no extra cleanup so it really is a time-savings technique.

You can cook some great chicken in high heat very quickly that is juicy and flavorful. My kids love drumsticks and a package of frozen drumsticks is only about $2 per pound. Add some spices to thawed drums and stick them under the broiler about 10 minutes each side. If salt and pepper is all your children can handle but you want something with a little more zing, then make some Buffalo sauce for you and your husband. Melt a stick of butter and add cayenne and Tabasco until you can’t stand it. Use it as a dipping sauce or baste your drums with it.

Burgers and fries are also wonderful under the broiler. The ground round can get a little messy with splatters so use a roasting pan to allow the grease to fall down and stay away from the flame. Line it with foil to make cleanup even easier.

Second, reinvent leftovers! Pasta and some grated parmesan cheese can do wonders for veggies and meats that are no more than one or two portions left in your fridge from a few days’ meals. You don’t even have to have a sauce, but a jar of Alfredo can add some depth and creaminess. If you don’t have that, add a quarter cup of olive oil, mince a clove or two of garlic and chop some basil leaves if you have them and voila! Add some fresh spinach for some extra iron in your family’s diet too. A bag of pasta only takes 12 minutes to boil—and don’t forget to salt your water so it is nice and tasty and not bland and starchy. Chop up your leftovers into bite-size pieces and mix with pasta and sauce or seasonings in a baking dish, grate some parmesan over the top and bake for twenty minutes.

If casseroles are not your thing, do the same thing with chicken broth instead of Alfredo sauce to make a hearty soup. Swanson’s has a re-sealable container of broth and no MSG. Pasta or rice can make it more filling but are not necessary.

Third, breakfast for dinner is always a fun way to liven up an evening. Pancakes, bacon or sausage and some scrambled eggs on the dinner table always make kids feel like they are breaking the rules. Liven it up with orange juice whipped in a blender with ice and some vanilla yogurt. It’s quick and relatively inexpensive.

These three tips can get you pretty far—I know they have helped me to avoid the boxed lasagna and the drive thru. Cheers to quick and easy meals and bon appetit!

Lying for the Greater Good

2009-10-07T13:04:00.000-07:00

Face it, we lie to our kids. Some are little lies like, “I don’t know where that ripped and stinky nightgown that you outgrew three years ago but insist on wearing is.” When you know full well that you threw it out the last time you found it in the hamper.

Some are big lies like the most heinous one I have ever heard a mother tell her child, “You won’t like chocolate, it’s spicy.”

That wicked lie makes me laugh every time I share it. So clever and yet so dastardly to tell your own sweet child while Mommy unwraps another Ghirardelli square and savors it as it melts in her mouth. It wasn’t me, really!

The most common lies are the ones that we culturally agree are good. They have become universal. Santa, Tooth Fairy, Easter Bunny and any other figment of the imagination used to make parenthood and childhood more fun.

I loved imagining the Sandman coming into my room. He was a little guy on a flying carpet sprinkling dust that magically gives you great dreams. I think this image was in some old movie because I know my parents never gave me tequila or something else that might result in an image like that. Every morning there was evidence in my eyes that the Sandman had done his job and sealed my eyes for a great night of sleep. However, the promise of the Sandman’s magic terrified my little girl. In fact, so did Santa.

She liked the idea of some guy bringing presents, but she did not like that he was going to come into our house while we slept. It is somewhat burglar-like, isn’t it? In a Robin Hood sort of way. When she was one year old, Santa left the packages on the patio after we dutifully called the North Pole (AKA a puzzled grandpa on the other end of the call) to make that request.

Now my daughter is 10. It seems a little old to still believe in Santa but she’s not the only one. The other morning when I was driving carpool, the little boy I take to school – who is more intellectual than most men I know but talks about bodily functions as much as any man at any age – referenced what he calls the “Technology Elf.” Of course! The Technology Elf is in charge of all the techno-toys ordered into Santa’s workshop.

My seven year old quickly said with disgust, “There’s no Technology Elf – they just all build the toys!”

Wow! The more intellectual you are the more complex and organized your vision of imaginary things. How cool! He’s not above believing, he has constructed an environment to make more sense in a specialized corporate way. Genius!

In many discussions with my fellow moms we wonder if it’s time to let them in on it, but I think I’ll wait and let it slowly occur to my daughters and let them arrive at that conclusion in due time.

I think that the real reason for creating and perpetuating these wonderful tales that we do – with or without a Technology Elf – is to lead our children to faith.

It’s a way to teach them to believe in something that they can only imagine but we as parents are the masters and can control the outcome. They ask for a bike and we can guide their expectations and deliver if we approve. We can change the rules any way we need to so that our children feel their belief is worthwhile and keep the faith for another year.

It is one area where we can ensure there is magic in their lives and that there is a concrete system of reward for their good behavior. Sitting on Santa’s lap is almost a form of atonement, an opportunity for confession. Bless these wonderful children who have fit into their architecture of faith in Santa a need to have helper Santas in every mall and department store.

It is pure evidence that if we want to believe in something, we will create a world in our minds in which it can all be true.

As parents it’s easy to remember our duties on behalf of Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but the Tooth Fairy’s schedule is as bad as a random wedding anniversary. There’s no other trigger than that they lost their tooth that day. That’s it. Good luck and you better have whatever denomination in whatever shape you determined to be a tooth’s worth. Is it a gold coin or a $2 bill? Don’t get too fancy because there’s not always a lot of time to arrange the perfect gift and the pressure to remember to do the deed before you go to bed is enough. Forget about finding the special Tooth Fairy pillow or anything else.

The stories I have heard of why the Tooth Fairy forgot are amazingly creative but usually are very human reasons – overbooked, tired, sick kids, didn’t put it on her calendar, etc.

In my opinion some lies are worth the result. They add interest and anticipation to holidays that could be very heavy and not very childlike. More importantly they provide something a child can believe in and have faith in that they can understand. Why a giant rabbit would bring chocolate is a little weird, but the faith that it is possible is the important part of the message.

Long Live Dotty!

2009-08-24T08:58:00.000-07:00

This is my daughter's much-loved, very threadbare toy she calls Dotty.

Dotty has gone through many challenges and has come through with flying colors. Multiple rounds of rhinoplasty have been necessary since my daughter sucks her trunk, but they have not made dear Dotty any less appealing to my now seven-year-old daughter.

This summer, the dog did this. This was definitely the worst think that Dotty has ever had to endure. Even worse than being lost--uh, I mean on vacation for two months--until we found her behind a stack of mom's "to file" papers wedged against a coffee table in the office.

Poor, poor Dotty. The chewing, the ripping, and the drool from one large collie puppy that is 100 times the size of Dotty.

Dotty was rushed into emergency surgery for a nose transplant and fluff re-stuff. Once again, she pulled through with a new and improved trunk. She is the envy of all stuffed pachyderms with her sweet pink minky trunk.

Later this summer the dog did the same thing to her tail. The surgeon was tempted to turn her into a push-me-pull-you, but refrained.

There is a great book that is all about animals of Dotty's sort. The loved to abuse sort, that is.

See it here: http://www.dirtywowwow.com/index.html

Songs That Make You Think

2009-08-19T11:00:00.000-07:00

The other day I was listening to Sirius First Wave like the 80s throwback that I am and found myself singing along to the Morrissey song, “Hairdresser on Fire.” Yes, hairdresser on fire. Morrissey and The Smiths (the band he was with before going solo) songs are typically a little depressing and cover the gamut of teen troubles and angst. Hairdresser on Fire is about a busy clipper, clipping hair on Sloane Square.

What a dumb song, I thought. But it’s not the only dumb song I know. There are bands who have all dumb songs like They Might Be Giants. Don’t get me wrong, I like They Might Be Giants and songs about canaries and the Sun and other silly things, but I expect that from them.

However, I am bothered when a singer or a band pull out a song that is completely different from their genre. It’s like they are testing the water to see what they can get away with in their superstar status. They create a song that is a total pop rip-off with really stupid lyrics. I don’t mean stupid lyrics like "Radar Love"—which my husband actually had to prove to me that it was not "Red Hot Love," which made much more sense to me. I mean really dumb lyrics that they would be hard-pressed to fit in any particular collection of songs. Prince’s Raspberry Beret is one of those songs.

What the heck was that all about? In the video (http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-196646101143773778) Prince is wearing a powder blue suit with clouds on it. That was no racy “Lady Cab Driver” or provocative “Purple Rain.” It was “Raaaaaspberry Beret … the kind you find at a secondhand store.” Huh? What kind is that? Is that a “kind” of berets? Green berets, French berets, and raspberry berets? Oh right! Those are the ones I get at the Goodwill store.

“Little Red Corvette” was pretty catchy, but the pink chapeau takes it off the charts by the artist formerly known as risqué.

Steve Miller Band. Lots of fun standards with some silly idioms thrown in—“… really like your peaches want to shake your tree.” Great beats, catchy clap rhythms, cool guitar riffs,. and lyrics that told a story all make Steve Miller Band music fun. It’s great summer music that makes you want to have your car windows down and the smell of Coppertone wafting through your car on an ocean breeze.

Then they put out “Abra Cadabra.” “Abra, abra, cadabra. I want to reach out and grab ya.” It has low tones to sound … romantic? I’m not sure if it was supposed to be a ballad or what. It was just not in sync with the other songs that the band is known for. It surely did not fly like an eagle; it sort of flopped like bunny ears from a magician’s hat.

Regardless of what you think of Wham star George Michael, he has one song that is way more bubble gum pop than any other of his songs. I know, I know. Wham’s eponymous song “Wham!” that went, “Wham! Bam! I am! A man!” was pretty goofy and really should have made his sexual preferences clear from the get-go. But the song I am talking about was even more juvenile and I bet was on more than one collection of songs for the eight and younger set. You know, the kind of CDs they sell at the checkout counter at party stores. Buy some helium-filled balloons, some Barbie paper plates and a “Songs Kids Can Pogo To” CD featuring George Michael singing “Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go!”

Wake me up before you go-go? It starts with this electronic-sounding refrain: “Jitterbug, Jitterbug” that is reminiscent of Manhattan Transfer. It then proceeds with an upbeat, catchy tune that should have been a jingle.

“I’m a Pepper, You’re a Pepper, We’re a Pepper,” is somewhat similar. Perhaps it would have sold Coffee-Go (coffee flavored candy that has as much caffeine in one piece as a cup of coffee) better than it sold George Michael as a musical genius.

Barry Manilow, who wrote that Dr. Pepper jingle and can keep his jingle-writing off of his record label, has had a very successful career with a great, steady gig now in Vegas and no messy skirmishes that Michael had to get through. Maybe George should be a Pepper.

Yet, worst of all have been some actors who have tried to cross over into music. In my last round of purging cabinets, I threw out a cassette called Bruno. It was Bruce Willis singing more than his raspy, jazzy jingle for Seagram’s Golden Wine Coolers. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good either. He does okay on Letterman as a special guest with Paul Schaefer from time-to-time playing a mean harmonica. “Bruno” was recorded not long after (might have been during) his TV show “Moonlighting,” and long before Pulp Fiction and Demi Moore.

The best of the worst songs ever are definitely from Eddie Murphy. I can still hear him singing “My Girl Likes to Party All the Time” using a falsetto at a few points in that song. Who could forget his other song that must have been inspired from Dr. Demento, “Boogie in Your Butt.” It includes lyrics like “Put an alligator up your butt.” It was not just sort of out of place and incongruent, they were ridiculously stupid. His Buckwheat songs were way better!

I miss Eddie Murphy when he did dirty stuff compared to Klumps and Haunted Mansion, but my kids love his voice in Shrek, Mulan, and other animated movies.

I know I have missed some incredible fluff songs from bands around the world. Go ahead and enlighten me with your favorite stupid song from reputable—or not so reputable--musicians. Just leave a comment.

It's the Eggs!

2009-08-17T16:01:00.001-07:00

That's right! The eggs were missing. We added two and that seemed to do the trick just fine.

Something's Missing

2009-08-11T20:02:00.000-07:00

Carrot Cake. My daughter has wanted to make carrot cake all summer. By all means I want to encourage that healthy choice but I was without a recipe. My sisters and I have always just doctored-up cake mixes and made come pretty darn good cakes—a little extra spice, some fresh grated carrots, add raisins and nuts and it’s practically made from scratch!

But I did not want to use a cake mix with my daughter. Knowing what I know now, I just wanted ingredients that make a good cake and not a bunch of preservatives that make the cake mix last through a few nuclear wars.

I finally decided on a zucchini bread recipe I have in my high school recipe box and just substituted carrots for the zucchini. We also substituted out half the oil and replaced it with crushed pineapple. The zucchini bread recipe is one that I have made more than once and trust.

While we were measuring walnuts and raisins I recalled the first time I made this recipe. It was with my mother. I was probably in junior high and she got it either from the newspaper or someone at work. We made it in a kitchen that was literally seventy-five square feet measured back to the walls—the cabinets, stove top, sink and refrigerator took up 30 square feet. The lack of space made the baking project seem huge.

Grated zucchini striped the counters and floor, sifted flour dusted the dish drain, measuring cups and spoons separated from their sets dotted all over the kitchen. After a long while of bumping into each other around the tight kitchenette, we got the two loaves in the oven. The apartment filled with the aroma of baking cinnamon while we did all the dishes by hand—no dishwasher.

The bread was delicious.

A few years later, when I had to put together a recipe box as part of my home ec class, I found the recipe and re-typed it. As part of the class there were some basics we had to have, a white sauce, a white bread recipe, and some other basics. We could earn extra points for more recipes in each category. Our teacher (the one who loved egg nog) encouraged us to share recipes with each other.

“Don’t share too many,” my mother warned.

“Why not?” I asked. I wanted Janet’s rocky road candy recipe and I wanted Kim’s spider cookie recipe. I felt I needed to reciprocate with either the poco loco appetizers or the rice salad recipe.

“Because, you need to keep some things for your family and it’s nice when your friends feel only you can make it taste so good.”

“But mom, I’ve seen you give the rice salad recipe to people,” I objected.

“I always leave out the cumin,” she said matter-of-factly.

“Really?” I was shocked.

“Yes. That’s a very different ingredient that a lot of people can’t identify, but it is what gives that salad its unique flavor, so that’s what I leave out.”

“Don’t they figure it out?”

“They say, ‘I made your rice salad recipe but I think something was missing–mine just did not taste the same’.”

Scandalous! I was shocked. I’m not sure I totally think it is the best thing to do; it seems so sneaky. My own mother!

I kind of like the idea of going to a friend’s house and having all my own favorite dishes. However, I know that it is hard when someone else is getting compliments and accepting them for your graciousness, and doing so without so much as a footnote attributing at least a fraction of the credit to you.

It’s one thing if you have your name on a cookbook or two and get to eat your recipes at a friend’s house with the proof printed in a perfect binding, it’s another when there is no proof that the recipe had been in your family for several years. But should that matter? I don’t know.

“Pass on the ones that were passed on to us, like the zucchini bread, but keep the special family recipes special family recipes,” she said.

I do pass on some recipes but not all. If I am tempted to leave out an ingredient, I don’t pass on the recipe. The cynic in me wonders if Ina Garten and Emeril Lagasse have held out and not included every ingredient in every recipe in their cookbooks. Are there some things they won’t share with the masses? I wonder.

That recipe card that went in my freshman home ec collection, typos and all, is what my daughter and I followed just this week. You can see it above and there is indeed, something missing. I assure you it was inadvertent, but you are welcome to the recipe. It’s great with zucchini, and now we know it’s great with carrots too. We realized the absent ingredient before we had gone too far and we corrected it.

Can you identify what is missing from the ingredient list? Trust me, you’ll need it. Leave your answer in the comment section, smarty pants.

Summer Edification

2009-08-10T15:41:00.000-07:00

Who says kids don't read and write in summer? And, she has good manners.

Graffiti via Bendaroos--now that's an idea! They'll stick to walls, they'll stick to utilitiy boxes, freeway signs, even your car!

To Norm!

2009-08-01T09:03:00.000-07:00

b. 5.10.1928
d. 7.15.2009

Norman David Joeb was just about the happiest man I ever met. Nothing ever kept him down. I met him when I was nine years old when he and my mother began their very long relationship together.

Norman was never bound by practicality and pragmatic planning and budgeting—much like a nine year old girl! As a child and teenager, if I ever said I needed or wanted something, his automatic response was, “Get your shoes on. Do you know where we need to go to get one for you?”

My mother would cringe from his generous spirit and joyful attitude. None of those usual parenting restraints came into play. She would try to explain why he shouldn’t just fill my every whim, but when an adult thinks the reasons are bogus too, it makes it much easier to have your every whim fulfilled.

I sometimes felt guilty for taking him up on his “you have to have that attitude”; I felt I had more restraint sometimes than he did. Mom was there to temper most of it and I was kind enough to not completely take advantage if him. Not completely.

He loved to shop. I think a young teen’s wants enhanced his inhibitions—not to mention a woman (my mother) who loves clothes. A child in the Depression era, he relished the ability to purchase unlike so many from that generation who fear the loss of every penny. Truth be told, my mom could out-shop him. He spent a portion of every trip to the mall sitting in a department store’s shoe department waiting for my mom with the bags of clothes and shoes.

Norm loved pastries and hot dogs and recalled his youth with potato salad made with whipped cream. I still cannot imagine anything quite so indulgent. He was born the same year that Mickey Mouse made his début and that detail of his life did not go unnoticed. He loved to wear his Mickey Mouse watch and loved the ideals held at Disneyland—the fantastic Main Street and all the fantastic details of fairy tails and heroic adventures come to life.

Many summer evenings we drove over to the Disneyland Hotel to see the water show. This predated Phantasmic but was just as spectacular for its time. From the front porch of the apartment my mother and I lived in, we had a perfect view of Disneyland’s fireworks. Each night at 9:30, we would be signaled by a few boom-booms to go out and watch the show.

Since his passing I have retold memories of his favorite places to my daughters as we spend our summer visiting so many of the places he loved. We went to The Grove which is adjacent to the Fairfax District Farmers Market. A lot has changed at that market over the years, but I recall our visits there. Norm loved the pastries and the wonderful things that were made with marzipan. Fancy petit fours, delicious éclairs, and of course hot dogs!

He loved the Orange County Fair with all of its food and the gadgets. He loved a good slice and dice demonstration in the “Hall of Products.”

“Let’s buy that,” he’d say. “We need one!”

Later in life, his enthusiasm had not waned, but my mother’s response changed from, “Oh, alright!” to “Where would we put that?” Except when the object was jewelry, then the reply was still, “Oh, alright!” (She’s no fool.)

Completely congruent with all the things he enjoyed, he loved Christmas. There really isn’t anything else that combines all his passions quite so well—shopping, giving, and celebrating. Each year on Christmas Eve we have a great family party. My sister now hosts it at her house but the menu is a tradition that Norm and my mom started. Huge tiger shrimp for an appetizer with champagne flowing and a prime rib dinner with all the accoutrements. We all dress up for the occasion and Norm always wore red and green plaid pants and topped it off with a bow tie. He preferred the real bow ties to the pre-tied versions that just clip around the collar.

He loved life! He loved it with an enthusiasm few people have. He loved my siblings and I as if we were his own to spoil. Most of all, he loved my mom.

She’s learning to get along without him but I know she misses him. He made life fun for her and allowed the people around him to escape their inhibitions and just live life and indulge. I’m happy that he was in my life and just know that as much as he loved life, he is free from earthly limitations.

I imagine Norm is feasting without regard to diabetes that limited his “approved” menu or the cancer that he fought for almost five years. He’s visiting with old friends and enjoying every minute with the thrill and joy of a small child on Christmas morning.

To Norm!

Tweens

2009-07-04T21:41:00.000-07:00

I’m a ‘tween

I know what you’re thinking. “You’re 42, Leslie, the only thing you’re between is youth and senility.”

That’s true, but I’m also ‘tween figures. I am teetering between, “What the hell, I’ll have a second piece of cheesecake,” and “Oh, I never eat more than a bite of cheesecake … a year.”

I realized this when I was getting dressed for my niece’s graduation party. I put on a pair of black slacks and a black top that used to look less lumpy on me and I thought to myself, “One of those dusters from Chico’s would really make this look good.”

Chico’s? Did I really just move into the demographic of what my friend Margaret calls “soft dressing”? Soft dressing for soft bodies, is what I have always thought. Chico’s sells clothes that hide your flaws–the bumps and bulges that come around your bra and underwear. That’s definitely what I was looking to hide, but I just am not quite willing to cross that line.

I’ve only been in a Chico’s a few times to buy gifts. I think I bought a necklace each time. The clothes are pretty with lots of prints and interesting patterns and gorgeous colors, but I would much rather be choosing a slim-fitting sheath dress at Ann Taylor.

Needless to say (I hope), I don’t have a duster from Chico’s. Thankfully, on the night of the party it was unseasonably cool so I wore a pashmina and all was well.

The next day we left for Scottsdale for a week. We stayed at the Westin Kierland Villas—a beautiful resort and oasis in the desert heat. I love to people watch at resorts as many people are there from places where they never see the sun. No matter what, they are getting a tan at the resort and baring as much skin as they possibly can so their workmates know they have definitely been away to someplace sunny.

Resorts, therefore, are full of people with bodies in all segments of life. With our kids we were relegated to the “recreation” pool where children are allowed, versus the “relaxation” pool where children are discouraged. The relaxation pool was where all the nubile 20-somethings hung out. We only saw their non-lumpy, top-model bodies one day when we had lunch on the terrace near that pool.

The rest of the time my husband was growing tired of my asking, “Do I look that bad?” He knows his script well—he lies to me. Smart man.

The big bosomed ladies get away with more than others. Their proportions allow them to carry a little more around the middle and hips as long as the bust measurement is still bigger or as big as their hips. A brick house can be big or small and still be a brick house. The pear-shaped woman can’t get away with much. Even the barrel-shaped rib cage women (think Mrs. Puff from Spongebob) can wear a bikini if she has some tatas to fill in the top of her two-piece.

I’m not really sure what my shape is except soft with a slight top of the muffin overflow. I have broad shoulders which definitely helps even-out chubbiness in the bottom half. Those shoulders have not always been to my advantage though. When I was young and skinny, I had a boyfriend who told me I looked like a boy from the back. Gee, thanks. Like I said, my husband is smart, he lies. Suffice it to say, I stay in a tankini. (Do they have those at Chico’s? Maybe with a matching duster?)

There was one 40-something mother in a brown crocheted bikini with a matching sarong. She had a more-than-ample bust line and looked okay, but then she turned around. Hanging down on both sides of her body were two rolls of fat below her bikini top’s strap stacked above her waist.

“Do I look that bad?”

“No, Leslie,” he politely repeated.

Since I think he only saw her back he might have been telling the truth. If he saw her boobs he would not have known she even had a face.

The next day I went shopping. While I was trying on a dress in the dressing room, I could see my whole backside in the reflection from the mirror behind me. There it was. Back fat!

Oh my God! Sirens went off in my head. Woot! Woot! Danger, danger! Get to the gym! Red Alert! Red Alert! Salad bar, NO CROUTONS! Woot! Woot!

I have to admit, my back does not look quite as bad as the biscuits clinging to the girl in the brown crocheted bikini, but I could see the start–it looks like unleavened balls of dough. It’s bad enough that I recognize I am a ‘tween and really want to stay on the thin side of the teeter-totter.

I Googled 'back fat, images' and there were pages and pages of results. Many of these women were incredibly thin and the photos showed little more than the flesh that they need to bend over. But what struck me is the opportunity for marketing. I receive tons of spam for colon cleansing and Acai berry to reduce belly flab, but nothing about slimming the slack on backs. Hmm.

It's just more evidence that I need to go to the gym--and do more than read a magazine in the dressing room. Though that is really tempting while the kids are out of school.

Understanding

2009-06-17T10:14:00.001-07:00

• I don't understand people who don't have opinions. It's great to be neutral, but don't be vanilla. Opinions form you from a blob of clay into a describable shape. The worst kind of a person is one who is highly opinionated and never speaks up. Outside they are shape shifters but inside they are rigid angles and sharp edges. They only share opinions in fits of anger like erupting volcanoes.

• I don't understand the 'watchers' who only criticize and never DO anything. It's easy to sit and watch and to express those opinions if you have them. That's the success of broadcast media, right? If you think there is a better way to do something, then take ownership of it and do it. That includes volunteering. Don't sit on the sidelines and tell everyone else how it could be done better--unless you are the manager.

• I don't understand people who call themselves great writers because they say things with many more words than it takes. Just say what it is. A "peephole" after all does not need to be "a small aperture on the door for viewing." Maybe it's that my degree is in advertising and I was trained that there is always one word that will say it better than 50--even if the word does not exist yet. Coin a phrase or celebrate an old expression, but don't drag on and on and on ... and on. Crisp copy does not read like drivel in a romance novel. At least not in my opinion.

• I don't understand people who always offer analogies. Everything does not need an analogy, and certainly not bad ones. For instance here's a bad one I just read, "Asking if you can help someone is like asking to share a sandwich." Huh? Giving analogies when they aren't necessary is like giving a drowning man--well, a sandwich.

• I don't understand how some people think that disagreement is somehow personal. If I am not seeing the same thing that you see when I look through a kaleidoscope that doesn't have anything to do with you. I have a word for these people: ARROGANT. It is completely arrogant to think that every opinion someone shares actually has something to do with you. If you offer your sandwich to me and I really hate the deviled ham that you smeared on Wonder bread and politely say, "no thank you," that is not a reflection of you. If I share my opinion that people who like deviled ham on white bread probably also eat paste on cardboard and give bad analogies, then sure, be offended.

• I do understand, however, a messy family room, kids laughing until they hiccup, the need for a few minutes of quiet time, bonding with girlfriends over a few drinks, that stupid movies are really funny, and that understanding friends and family makes life wonderful.

Ch-Ch-Ch Diet

2009-05-23T11:38:00.000-07:00

Summer’s coming. Time to at least try to shed a few pounds for the bathing suit. You know it’s bad when your kids say, “You need to go to the gym!”

Here’s my foolproof diet that will work for any fool whose main food groups are nachos and See’s candy like mine are … uh, were.

In the last three weeks I have lost five pounds. I know I can look a lot better if I take my kids’ advice and get my gushy self to the gym for some serious cardio and hefty weight training, but in the meantime, this takes zero sweat and zero pain.

I’ve done this before and it always works, I just slowly slip off of it and am back up the scale. I simply take these three things out of my diet: cheese, chocolate and chips. As for chips, that goes for the American munchies as well as the chips across the pond better known as French fries. Pretty much everything fried is off limits.

Cheese sneaks into your diet here and there so that you rarely even taste the hundreds of calories it equates to and the grams and grams of fat that enhance your roundness. Taking cheese off a burger, out of a sandwich and off the snack tray is a huge savings for a cheesy girl like me. I love cream cheese on a bagel or as a spread on a turkey sandwich. Hummus is a good, healthy substitute that I can live with.

Chocolate is also full of fat. No doubt, that’s why it tastes so good. The way it melts in your mouth and envelopes your taste buds. Mmmmmm—delicious! But one Hershey’s* bar has 13 grams of fat. The recommended daily allowance for a 2000 calorie a day diet is 65 grams of fat or less. That means that a Hershey bar would take up 20% of your daily allocation—that would be the fat for a whole meal. I know that if I have a few pieces from a box of See’s Nuts and Chews or a Hershey bar, I’m not doing it as a meal. It’s a treat and as much as I want to believe that treats don’t count, or that the Diet Pepsi I have with it cancels it out, I know it shows up on the scale and as one more dimple on my thigh.

Chips to me are like pasta or rice. I have chips with hummus, chips with cheese, chips as the basis or a topper in a casserole and as croutons in a salad. They are totally a staple to me. Again, full of fat. Lay’s potato chips (which are all natural and so delicately delicious) have 10 grams of fat in 15 chips. Trader Joe’s white corn tortilla chips are 7 grams for 10 chips. Compare that to zero (zilch, nada) grams of fat in pretzels. That’s right—ZERO GRAMS OF FAT IN PRETZELS. Take out the two or three portions of chips I would eat as a snack, and it makes a huge impact in my fat intake. We won’t even discuss the fat in French fries—even sweet potato fries are fries and should be avoided.

The next step of course is the fourth ‘Ch’–no cheating! That means not only not eating this stuff, but being wise to what else you are eating. Eating an artichoke is great. Drenching each leaf in mayonnaise, is not so great even though it isn’t cheese. Though you aren’t eating fish and chips, does not mean that a bacon burger (hold the cheese) is going to be the best alternative.

Think lean proteins, whole grains and move toward vegetable fats instead of animal fats (olive oil instead of butter).

Last but not least is exercise. Muscle burns fat and any help in that area is the right way to go. Cardio is important but it does not build muscle the same way weight training will so make sure you get on those machines or pick up some free weights. Don’t just focus on your core either—work your arms and legs too.

Ch-ch-ch-Cheers! To better health!

* I had to use Hershey’s data as See’s does not include theirs on their website—and there’s non in the house.

Advice From Mom

2009-05-12T10:33:00.000-07:00

Mother's Day is a great day to take pause and reflect on the things you learn from your mother. Sometimes it takes a while to agree with her and knowing that should only give us more patience as mothers. Maybe patience isn't the word for it ... long-suffering, maybe. It is frustrating when your kids do not acknowledge your wisdom at the moment but somehow you hope that one day they will get it. Wisdom, after all, comes from reflection and wholly accepting the experience.

Here is a list of ten things my mom repeated to me as I was growing up and will share them with my kids--some I already have. (I picked the things I agree with.)

Mommies are entitled to take a bite out of any sandwich they make for their kids

If you get the heal of the bread loaf, you get to make a wish on the first bite

Some recipes are for sharing and some for keeping in your family

Ketchup can make dry leftover Thanksgiving turkey taste delicious on a sandwich

Neosporin makes every boo-boo better

Sometimes you just have to grin and bear it

Don’t wear your heart on your sleeve

Leftovers from a party taste better than at the party

Marry a man who can cook

Nothing good happens after midnight

If your dinner party menu isn’t turning out, serve more alcohol!

Sparing the Piggy Bank

2009-04-25T18:36:00.000-07:00

It’s so hard to go cold turkey and not spend ANYTHING even when the well is dry. Beyond clipping coupons and only buying clothes on sale, here are some tips that I have used over the last two years or longer (at least it seems longer) to curb spending and not feel like I am totally living a life of austerity.

USE YOUR SAMPLE COSMETICS: Even if they are not the right colors, which they probably are not, use them instead of buying more. Put vanity aside and venture out with copper lips , pink cheeks, and midnight blue mascara. Just add a button on your lapel that says, “Clowns Rock!” and no one will look at you twice.

TREASURES FOR A BUCK: Suck up your pride and venture into the 99¢ store or the Dollar Tree and just look around. A lot of it is just junk, but look at the next aisle. I bought the kids musical toothbrushes that play tunes from “High School Musical 3,” I have found bottles of Softsoap there that were $2.59 at Target—same scent, some great card games like “I Spy Snap” that retail for about $5 at Target. Those stores are bountiful resources for really great birthday goody bags. I have found Disney Princess addition and subtraction flashcards, jumbo ballpoint pens on necklaces with Tinker Bell and other Disney characters on them, those shrunken washcloths that expand in the tub with images of “Toy Story” characters on them. My most recent find that I wish I had thought of a long time ago—sunglasses! Cute, UV-rated sunglasses! I am notorious for losing sunglasses and if I don’t lose them I bend them like a pretzel. A buck a pair is well worth it!

PAYLESS BOGO: Buying shoes at Payless is a rite of passage for stay at home moms. The transition from two incomes to one income, not to mention one income that is not as much as it was a few years ago, makes vinyl look cuter. Call them ‘vegan’ and you can feel better about your choice. By all means, wait until the buy one get one (BOGO) half off sale. Yes they are cheap shoes—usually with man-made materials but there are a few leather uppers on the racks—so take it as license to buy some trendy styles that last just one season. If they last longer, celebrate. If not, no big deal.

PAPER AND PLASTIC: Eliminate the things you just throw away like paper plates and even paper napkins. You can use a cloth napkin for most meals without needing a wash for a few days. Your real plates are so pretty anyway—use them. As for cleaning supplies and toiletries, buy in bulk at Costco or Smart & Final or buy at discount stores like Walmart. I always buy toilet paper in bulk. My father eyed my huge supply in the garage one time and asked, “Are you expecting diarrhea?” He’s funny! Nonetheless, it is much cheaper to buy 20 rolls than four at a time.

FRESHLY BREWED: One of the best ways to cut down on your cash disappearing from your wallet is to make coffee at home. Treat yourself to a new travel mug and a bag of coffee beans that you can grind and brew yourself. You will save more than a few dollars a day, you’ll have a few extra minutes without the stop at Starbuck’s to do sit-ups--yeah right!

NO COVERGIRLS: Don’t renew your magazine subscriptions. Between on-line sources, a trip to the library, or a browse at the newsstand, you can find the information or gossip you are looking for—FREE! Yes, I miss some favorites like Real Simple, but I have ridden myself of the guilt when I didn’t read them all.

If your budget is limited you have likely already cut your wine of the month club and cutback on the DirecTV or eliminated it altogether. There are all kinds of little luxuries we live with that we have forgotten cost us money. Netflix, Sirius/XM Radio, favorite candies from the vending machine, quick drive-thru trips for a diet soda, and $1-$2 bottled water when it is so much cheaper to bring your own.

Look for some deals and don’t be embarrassed by going the frugal route—your piggy bank will thank you.

All in the Marketing

2009-04-18T13:24:00.000-07:00

This feature came through my e-mail from Daily Candy a few weeks back: Olsenhaus Pure Vegan Footwear.

Are you kidding? They’re vegan shoes? Payless has been selling non-animal made shoes for years – cheap. Can you say BOGO?

I visited this site all ready to find that they used some sort of petroleum-based vinyl and would blast them as hypocrites, but they don’t. They are more than their marketing, although they do state they use nylon and a synthetic lining. Other than that, they use natural and recyclable materials for their soles and uppers. But being animal-kind comes with a price – even their low heels are steep. Flat sandals retail for $99, pumps are $198 and a short boot is $235.

This statement from their website did make me laugh:

“While many shoes kill, pollute, and destroy lives and ecosystems on their journey to your feet, we recognize these destructive production practices and do not consider them 'business as usual'. We at Olsenhaus believe these processes can evolve toward a respect for animals, ecosystems and people.”

Shoes don’t kill animals, people kill animals.

Alas, fashion has traditionally been great at marketing and re-marketing old products – a different sort of recycling. I remember when velour was THE fabric of the late 70s/early 80s. Then we all gave it to Goodwill in favor of some new trend. Then it came back in the 90s but it was the much more glamorous “stretch velvet.” It was used in ways that velour had not been used – burnout prints, beautiful skirts, scarves – keeping it from being considered retro.

Some items have stuck around for decades and keep changing names. Peddle pushers are clam diggers. Capris are cropped pants. Palazzo pants are split skirts. Split skirts are wide-legged pants. Skorts are scooters.

Some familiar items have been renamed and I’m not sure why. Jersey is stretch knit. Seersucker is puckered cotton.

The bottom line is that marketing can make or break a product. If your product or idea isn’t selling, rethink the marketing, then go vegan.

Puppy Love

2009-03-28T13:34:00.000-07:00

Last month we added a new member to the family. We needed some more male energy, my husband would attest to that, and six-month-old Harrison fit the bill just fine. Harrison is a smooth coat collie. It’s a breed I had never heard of and now I don’t think I need to learn of another.

Smooth coats have short hair – lacking that mane that makes Lassie so identifiable. Without all that hair around the dog’s face, the collie snout is very pronounced. He looks a little like a deer in the face. His coloring is a beautiful tan and milky white – like that of a hamster.

He's smart, sweet, has a great disposition and we know he will fill us with as much love as his predecessor did for a very long time.

Nonetheless, he is a puppy. Any puppy training website or book will tell you that puppies require constant supervision and I cannot disagree. Between our last puppy adoption and this one we have had two kids with whom I stayed home. We had our routines of play time, nap time, tummy time, tot lot, walks through the neighborhood, etc. With Harrison, I am a mom of an infant again but there are definite differences.

To highlight those differences, I have compiled the following two lists.

Top Ten Ways Puppies are Better Than Babies

10. If a dog-year is equivalent to seven human-years, then each of their days is a week making their growth and maturity exponential.
9. When they are naughty you can put them in a cage—a real cage!–and no one will arrest you.
8. You can walk them on a leash and no one looks at you funny.
7. They don’t talk back and never will.
6. They start out in life walking.
5. You can leave them home alone—in a cage!
4. They lose their teeth and get new ones without too much drama, and no tooth fairy visits (she can be so forgetful!)
3. They can eat food you serve them from a bag, by themselves.
2. They will never drive a car or need college tuition.
1. Getting one will never cause stretch marks.

Top Ten Ways Babies are Better Than Puppies
10. You can contain children in a swing, a saucer or a bouncer while you tend to other things and everyone is happy.
9. You can dress them up for pictures and no one thinks you’re a freak.
8. They might have children of their own one day and then they will truly understand you.
7. They can become mature adults and get a puppy for themselves.
6. They can’t walk until they are about one year.
5. They don’t have any teeth until almost a year.
4. Eventually you can reason with them.
3. They smile.
2. They giggle.
1. They learn to say, “I love you.”

You Are What You Eat

2009-02-17T18:09:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I attended a workshop offered at my children’s school that dealt with the side effects of food sensitivities.

First of all, I am not a chemical freak. Never have been. I have been of the mind that exposure helps you build immunity and makes you stronger. In fact, more than once I have rolled my eyes at a fear-ridden parent waving the “all-natural” banner. I’ve thought of other “all-natural” things that could fry your brain like cocaine and marijuana.

The teacher who put this class together, Mrs. Fiala, gave us a brief introduction at a prior PTA meeting when she listed symptoms as if describing my youngest daughter. After that meeting, I paid attention just to the occurrence of yellow dye #5 and yellow dye #6 in her diet which Mrs. Fiala mentioned were linked to asthma.

“Get out!” I thought.

My daughter has asthma for which we have given her Claritin every day for the past three years, and Singulair every night for the better part of a year. Which again, never really bothered me. I had allergies growing up and had a daily medication for years. As an adult, I take Claritin. I just figured she got my allergy genes and that’s that.

Turns out yellow 5 and 6 are prominent in Kraft Macaroni and Cheese – that’s what makes it glow in the dark and her FAVORITE food. Not to mention it is used in all my favorite candies: Starburst, Skittles, Mike & Ikes, and M&Ms.

In two weeks of not letting her have the Mac & Cheese and a few other things I noticed contained those dyes, we have completely eliminated the Claritin. That proved to me that Mrs. Fiala knew what she was talking about and I needed to listen. Following are my notes of the evening’s information.

First off, Fiala follows the Feingold diet and is a member of that association. It might be worth looking into if your child has been diagnosed with ADD, ADHD, or autism and there’s something in the back of your mind and in your heart that just tells you that is not right. For those of us who have kids that occasionally show hyperactive behavior, or an inability to focus, these few tips might just do the trick.

The behaviors include: bad dreams, difficulty sleeping, sleep walking, limited attention span, impatient, trouble listening, can’t stay seated at a table, walks on toes, sensitive to sounds, eczema, dark circles under eyes, acne, asthma, ear infections, constipation, poor hand coordination, poor writing.

Fiala gave us an acronym to easily remember the nasty culprits that can trigger this behavior. CAPS: Colors, Artificials, Preservatives, Salycilates.

COLORS
The dyes used in foods are largely petroleum products with traces of arsenic, lead and mercury. Many colors have been banned over the years but many are readily used—yellow 5, yellow 6, red 40, blue 1 and 2 for example. Not only in foods, the dyes are used in cosmetics and medicines—two times as much are allowed in medicines as in food.

Dyes in medicines often contribute to the problems they are supposed to be treating. For instance, dyes make cells swell. If your child has an ear infection, it means that bacteria has gotten trapped in the ear and created an infection. You go to the doctor and get some bubble gum flavored pink stuff. It kills the infection, your child feels better, but because the pink stuff makes the cells swell, the ear canal is smaller and has the propensity to trap more bacteria. Two weeks later, there’s another earache.

Yellow dyes are associated with spacey, unfocused behavior. Yellow 5 is attributed to hives and asthma, and yellow 6 causes nasal congestion. Red 3 is sometimes used as a pesticide and Red 22 that is used in cosmetics is used to kill marijuana. Naturally!

When Fiala took the dyes out of her daughter’s diet, she said her daughter did not believe there was any difference. To prove the point, they did an experiment. They bought two mice and taught them to go through a maze. When the mice could make it through in 30 seconds, one night they added a drop of yellow food coloring to each of their water dishes. The next day they sent them through the maze, but this time it took over two minutes for them to get through. The mice stopped and scratched themselves, went the wrong way and were totally spaced out. They let the mice clean their systems for a few days and then added a drop of red food coloring to their water dishes one night. The next day, it was evident the mice had had a rough night. The bars were bent and they had blood on their paws and ears. They made it through the maze in just 15 seconds. Focused but aggressive. They also tried the blue dye with the same results as the yellow.

ARTIFICIAL FLAVORINGS
One of the worst artificial flavorings is vanillin. It is artificial vanilla that is used in candies and sweets including a lot of chocolate. It is not used in chocolates that have the Trader Joe’s label (TJ’s peanut butter cups are delicious!) and Ghirardelli chocolates.

My daughters have always bounced off the walls after chocolate but not anymore, and the whole family is eating really yummy chocolate that doesn’t make you crazy.

PRESERVATIVES
The basic definition of preservatives that Fiala shared is: chemicals to keep fats from going rancid.

The ones to look for in ingredient lists are BHT, BHA, and TBHQ. These are the main preservatives that are in cereal packaging, bread packaging, crackers like Ritz, and in pan sprays. These are used in those “stay fresh” packs and are known to affect behavior, cause migraines, and make you tired. MSG may also be leading to asthma symptoms, headaches and irritability.

Breads without preservatives are available from Trader Joe’s, and Orowheat cracked wheat hamburger buns.

SALICYLATES
Here’s the shocking category. The shocker is that salicylates are naturally occurring in produce that we often force our kids to eat. Plants produce this hormone to protect their fruit from insects. What they do to kids with food sensitivities is give them symptoms of ADD, ADHD and autism. These kids wet the bed, and sometimes wet during the day, have whininess, over talk, tell lies, have anger issues, and perseveration.

Foods high in salicylates include apple juice, grape juice, orange juice, raisins and other dried fruits, all berries, orange juice, almonds, tomatoes (including ketchup), bell peppers and more.

Foods lower in salicylates are bananas, pears, mangoes, natural lemonade, kiwis, pineapple, watermelon, papaya, cantaloupe, and coconut.

WHAT TO DO
If you think your child has some of these food sensitivities, then Fiala recommends cleaning out their systems, then re-introducing foods one at a time to see what creates the issues. Take the CAPS foods out of the diet. You will notice a big change. To help the process, a cup and half of Epsom salts in a bath for 20 minutes helps extract the toxins out through the skin. Another way to do it that works great for adults is Alka Seltzer Gold, available at CVS.

Beware, once you have gotten these things out of your kids’ systems, you will notice a reaction when any of them are re-introduced in 20-60 minutes. I got a taste of this with a major meltdown from my youngest after a lasagna dinner. Tomatoes: check!

Granted, it’s difficult to never let your kids have any of these things ever again, and you can’t wholly control every bite they take. They are going to go to birthday parties and play dates where these foods will be offered—and offered as ‘good for you’ foods by well-meaning adults. As long as they are not getting these foods every day, they will be better off and the undesirable behaviors will lessen.

Be mindful what you send with them to school for lunch. A typical lunch might be a sandwich with lunch meat, fruit roll ups, some trail mix with raisins and almonds, and a sports drink or juice box.

“’Oh no!’ I think when my students have a Gatorade and a Lunchables for their lunch,” Fiala said. “That’s like a BOMB!”

I was just telling some friends how my nine year old seems to have grown out of some of the behaviors that have always pushed my buttons. What my husband and I realized is that we have not given her a Flintstone’s chewable vitamin this whole school year. Aha! They have every color dye and tons of artificial flavorings.

I have been avoiding the dyes and other culprits myself the last few weeks and I have definitely noticed a difference. I am not taking Claritin and I don’t get the feeling of anger and impatience creeping up my spine when my kids are bouncing off the walls from eating a single Hershey’s kiss.

Here are some tips that will be helpful the next time you go to the store:
• Trader Joe’s promises that their name on a label means “no preservatives";
• The only three sodas that don’t have artificial flavors and colorings are Sprite, 7 Up and Coca Cola;
• A commercial snack food that doesn’t have any artificial flavors and coloring is Frito’s. The fewer the ingredients the better, and Frito’s only have three;
• Peter Pan or Jif are the best peanut butter choices;
• The best flavors of Vitamin Water are Dragon Fruit or Lemonade—no orange;
• Watch out for dyes in toothpastes;
• Trader Joe’s Kettle Korn and Joe-Joe cookies are okay;
• Children’s chewable vitamins are loaded with dyes and flavorings. Trader Joe’s distributes one that is okay.

Blankie Keepers for the Stars

2009-01-14T09:56:00.001-08:00

"What a great idea!" That is what most of the celebrities at style guru Jayneoni Moore's Boom Boom Room Baby (and Big Kid) Wonderland were saying about the Blankie Keeper, including Desperate Housewives actor Neal McDonough pictured here with a purple passion Blankie Keeper.

The event was held in Century City preceding the Golden Globe Awards and benefits Jayneoni Moore's foundation for Foster Care.

You're never too old to have a blankie and to take good care of it. Disney Channel's Cory in the House star, Madison Pettis posed with her choice.

George Lopez star Constance Marie was persistent and took home my prototype for her daughter's nursery. "It has blue and her room is blue!" Makes perfect sense to me.

Ali Landry best known for her Super Bowl Dorito commercial and actress on UPN's Eve, loved the 'elephants on parade' print. Pictured here with yours truly.

"This is perfect!" she said, "the blankies we have at home are now paper thin from being washed so many times."

Some celebrities who now own Blankie Keepers include: Evan Handler (Sex and the City); Joely Fisher ('Til Death); David Blue (Ugly Betty); child actress Ryan Newman (Disney Channel's Zeke & Luther); Constance Zimmer (Entourage); Shirly Brener (Labor Pains); and more!

Blankie Keepers are available to everyone--celebrities and celebrities in your own home--at www.BlankieKeeper.com for $26, $34 and $42. Use Code: 'Boom Boom' for 20% off your entire purchase. Every Blankie Needs a Keeper!

Egg Nog

2008-12-19T16:26:00.000-08:00

(names have been changed a little bit to protect the foolish)

I went to a Christian high school that was associated with a Baptist church. They tried to tell us that the school was non-denominational but it wasn’t. Our textbooks were published by Bob Jones University Press. Bob Jones University (BJU) is the place that political candidates rarely visit lest they alienate the majority of their electorate.

Although BJU does not espouse a particular denomination of Christianity, its philosophy includes this statement: Bob Jones University seeks to maintain high academic standards, an emphasis on culture, and a practical Christian philosophy that is both orthodox and fervent in its evangelistic spirit.

Key words: “Orthodox” and “fervent.”

There is no flexibility for biblical grey areas on the BJU campus: no drinking, no dancing, no denim (not sure what the Bible said about denim; maybe something about Levi—must be in the Old Testament), skirts with no slits or hemlines above the knee to classes for women, and so on.

“Holy living,” they call it. I call it “Baptist.”

Some of my teachers were graduates from BJU and some from Southern California’s Biola University.

My high school campus was modeled after this same philosophy in many, many ways. Skirts or dresses with nylons and heels, no dances, only banquets, and an extremely conservative religious bent on history.

Our home economics teacher was a very plain woman named Mary Gettes (pronounced Gets). She was also the cheerleading coach and typing teacher. By the way, our cheerleader skirts were eight box pleats that draped heavily to our knees. I am surprised, in hindsight, that we were allowed to kick above our waists, but we had cheers that got banned and any performance routine had to be accompanied by classical, or at least non-lyrical, music.

Mrs. Gettes was married to the football coach—a stereotypical overgrown jock—who wore stiff polyester sweat pants, a whistle and a baseball cap. When they announced they were expecting their first child my sister quipped, “Mary Gettes pregnant!” We all wondered how it happened—it was a bad visual.

She had a certain drawl to her voice that was indiscernible as a regional dialect or just a slow pace. She was a good teacher, but a bad cook. She taught us menu planning and how to organize our recipe file. We got to make dishes in the kitchen somewhat regularly and mostly we thought they tasted bad. In December we got to make some holiday fare for our own little party. We made some sugar cookies and a pie, and then Mrs. Gettes was going to teach us how to make egg nog. The way she said egg nog sounded like “Ayg-Nawg,” and the sound of the g’s seemed to loop together somehow.

I loved egg nog! I couldn’t wait for the holidays so that rich, creamy, nutmeg-dotted elixir could pour slowly from a red and green carton. When I was very young, my mom used to buy me an instant powder for egg nog. Really! It was very sensitive to the right ratios and did nothing to thicken the milk, but it had that taste—at least for a five your old’s palate (disclaimer: I liked Spam too).

Mrs. Gettes showed us the most important part—how to cook the eggs to get out the bacteria and not scramble them. We tempered them by slowly adding the warmed cream mixture to the beaten eggs, then returning the whole batch to the heat.

From a brown paper bag on the floor under the work table, she pulled out a bottle of brandy and a bottle of rum. These were not single-serve-sized bottles, these were econo-sized bottles. They were new bottles, so this was not from her own supply. She had taught us to look at the price per ounce in the grocery store and apparently the same practice needed to be done in the liquor store.

She noticed the shocked look on our faces, and the silence.

“What?” she grinned. “We are making a traditional egg nog and this is how you do it.”

She added a cup or two of each. Not a shot glass or two, a cup--as in 8 ounces a pour. Keep that pitcher away from an open flame!

We took the pitcher and our platter of cookies and pie back to our classroom for our feast. She poured us each about a half glass of the egg nog and we helped ourselves to our desserts. She might have said a toast and we each took a sip from our cups. It was so strong it gave me a shiver and made my jaw clench, before I exhaled hot breath. It tasted like rubbing alcohol in a milk shake. It was awful. What a waste of nutmeg.

“Girls, do you like it?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah, uh-huh,” we offered.

She excused herself to go to the bathroom (pregnant). As soon as she left the room we burst with comments and laughter and shared shock. And then, we each poured our egg nog back into the pitcher--every drop.

We quickly sat back in our seats and tried to look nonchalant. Fifteen-year-old girls are not good at looking nonchalant after committing a crime.

She walked through the door and spied the pitcher, once again completely full.

“Someone didn’t like their egg nog!” she said. We glanced at each other and tried to stifle our laughter to no avail. She did not commend us for being good BJU prospects, she just smiled and ate another cookie (pregnant).

In hindsight, we all should be happy we made egg nog and not mai tais that day. I think we might have finished those which would have been obvious in our next class and resulted in 'Mary Gettes unemployment.'

Cooper's Irish Wake

2008-12-15T20:58:00.000-08:00

I have always fancied the idea that when I die, my friends and family should gather for an Irish wake. A girlfriend of mine shudders at the thought.

“That’s no time to laugh!” she explained, “I’m going to be sad!”

Well, you better be sad when I die. Hell yes, cry! Wail or keen if you want, and when you feel better, come have a beer and laugh, because I was funny and because I always liked to have a beer and laugh with you.

An Irish wake, after all, is not without mourning, but it also celebrates a person’s life with verve and happiness.

Thus, it has taken me a few weeks to be able to write about my sweet pooch’s passing the way I want to write about him. So grab a pint and read along.

My dog Cooper was the best dog ever! I am not saying that only because he is my first dog, but because everyone who ever met him told me so. They voted, he won; trust the process.

He was a mix of German Shepherd, Chow, and Doberman. We are certain he got the recessive genes of all those breeds—he was silly, cuddly, and humble.

He was loyal from day one. When we brought him home from the Seal Beach Animal Shelter, he knew he would be ours and we were his until the day he would die. He freaked whenever we took off his collar. He had been abandoned and seemed to figure out that a collar was a loving symbol of a family who wanted him.

I have worked from home since fall of 1994. We got him in January of 1995. He was a great assistant—or maybe more of a coach. With a sideways glance and perhaps a little sigh, he would remind me how ridiculous it was for me to yell at the fax machine. He would bark when the mail came and was just as excited as I was when UPS or FedEx brought a package. The letter carrier gave him a pat every day, and both the UPS and FedEx delivery personnel would bring him a dog biscuit and call him by name. They were all greeted with circle wags: a huge plume of a tail swinging 360 degrees like a helicopter’s rotor.

When it was time for a break, he would hit my elbow with his cold nose until I patted him. He would beg for snacks by sitting up regally and say please by gently putting his paw up on your hand.

I landed a client who wanted me to work from their offices a few times each week. My assistant could not come and he was angry and told me so. One day I came home to find he had grabbed one end of a freshly planted soaker hose and with it firmly in his mouth, he ran to the other end of the yard, tearing it out completely.

Not long after that, we had left him outside when we went to a hockey game. It rained and although his kennel was safely under the patio’s roof, and the door to the garage was open for his enjoyment, he dragged his 30-quart Rubbermaid food container out into the middle of the backyard. He managed to get the lid off, but instead of gorging himself on food, he just left the open container to collect enough water to make dog food soup.

After a few more bouts like that, I got to the point that I loved him more than brownies—the true measure of acceptance.

On the hunt, the dog never seemed to amaze us. While having a nice dinner for four out on the patio, Cooper brought us a treat. It wasn’t what was on the menu though. With his chest up and proud, and ears forward, he brought an opossum to the table. Fresh as ever! Not sure if he was dead, because … well … it was an opossum and playing dead is what they do.

Then there were the birds. The first time the dog caught a dove was when he leapt out our front door. “Cooper!” I called. He turned right around. Ears perked up again, tail wagging, almost with a swagger of pride and a dove firmly clasped in the dog’s mouth, one wing spread, eyes wide open, head bobbing around, fully alive.

Did I mention I was home alone?

“Out … out … ,” I said firmly but did not yell. He looked so disappointed but obeyed and slowly let the bird out of his mouth. I brought Cooper in quickly so he did not grab the poor wounded bird again. Downy feathers outlined his mouth as he yawned and licked to remove them. The bird had a broken wing and was stumbling in circles. I took care of that and will spare you the details.

On a few occasions, birds came in the house. One time he got one. Dennis was home, thank God. Having had dealt with the dove on the porch, I locked myself in the bedroom and turned up the TV to pretend the unpleasantness was not happening.

“There were so many feathers!” I heard my husband’s muffled voice through my covered ears.

Then there was Cooper’s bird. A bird smaller than a dove, bigger than a sparrow, had made a nest above Cooper’s kennel that sat in a corner of our patio. Cooper left that bird alone--completely. It was Woodstock to his Snoopy. One day, while Cooper was lying just inside the backyard door, his bird took a wrong turn and flew into the house. I steeled myself for another bout with a bird.

The dog looked up and watched that bird take a loop around our living room and fly out, turn right and perch in its nest. Cooper’s collar slid on the hardwood floors as he dropped his head again as if in relief. He had a pet.

I joke that the dog saved our marriage. We had only been married three months when we became his parents. Until then, my “morning person” husband would wake up way too early and eagerly ask, “Are you awake?”

Groan.

Then he’d tap my shoulder.

I’d roll over.

“I’m going to get up now,” he’d whisper.

“Shh!”

“See you are awake!” he’d say happily.

GROAN!

Enter Cooper. Dennis gets up, takes the dog for a walk, comes back, the dog jumps on the bed and warms my feet while Dennis reads the paper and drinks coffee in another room of the house.

Oh yes, good dog! Warm the Mommy!

On the walks with Daddy, Cooper learned the command “Tree Law.” If he began to wind the leash around a tree, Dennis would yell, “Tree Law!” and Cooper figured out how to follow the lead back around to the route he should be on.

Years later when I was pregnant, Cooper still slept with me and enjoyed the benefits of pregnancy. I would wake up in the middle of the night absolutely ravished. Rather than wander down to the kitchen to find something to eat, I kept granola bars and ginger ale on my bedside table.

The crinkle of the wrapper would wake Cooper and he would beg. He gained 10% of what I gained during that pregnancy. He liked it and he liked what was to come--the baby, baby snacks and table food.

Without the dog these last few weeks, we realize how much he did his part to help clean the house. The crumbs seem to be everywhere. We raised two toddlers without ever having a splat mat under the high chair.

He definitely had his favorites: macaroni and cheese topped veggies every time, and he grew tired of Cheerios.

One day when I had brought a friend’s toddler home from tot lot with me, the dog jumped in the minivan with me to get the car seat out when her mother came to get her. He went to town on the Goldfish crumbs, bits of French fries, cookies and spilled juice. Nirvana!

When Dennis came home that day, he stopped one foot past the threshold and shouted, “Where’s my dog?”

Although the girls and I had assumed the dog was napping somewhere and was kindly avoiding getting into our craft supplies, he had not come to greet Dennis, which the dog did every night.

“Oh no! He’s still in the minivan!” I realized. It had been two hours. There he was, sitting in the driver’s seat just waiting for the keys. The floor and seats were clean, and I was in the doghouse. Oops! Good thing it was a cool day.

As the kids got older and more snacks were packaged to go, Cooper deduced that things in plastic bags were good eating. He hunted through backpacks and couch cushions, then graduated to trashcans and low cupboards. We don’t keep food in any low cupboards and the kitchen cupboards close tight—some still with baby-proof closures. But in the bathrooms, Cooper thought that good smelling soap in cellophane would likely taste as good as it smelled.

He had gotten a little braver in his old age. It has been years since he could get up on the bed, and about a year that he could not make it upstairs anymore. With limited mobility, he had a new bravado to push the envelope. He was taking liberties we perceived as saying, “Oh yeah, what are you going to do about it?” He didn’t have that sorrowful slunk he used to get when he had acted out of turn. He ate Butterfingers (wrapper and all), and food off the table while we were sitting right there. I know he was losing his hearing but I am quite sure he ignored me several times to walk around the front yard a little longer.

Two weeks later, I am still picking up tufts of his hair. I am not sure where they are coming from, but we suspect that the dog hair will be here long after the pine needles from this year’s Christmas tree.

He was a wonderful dog and afforded us so much affection and laughter. There will never be another Baron Cooper Von Beerstein.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-27T11:31:00.000-08:00

Here are some turkeys from the Turkey Cookie Farm.

Have a great one!

Blankie Keepers--Buy One Today!

2008-11-22T22:05:00.000-08:00

Lately I have heard incredible stories about children and adults and their deep connections to their first security blankets. Tiny tots, teenagers and a few parents all have their blankies that they love so much.

A woman told me about having her blankie at her wedding. Another young woman has a small piece of her childhood blankie in her jewelry box. A few macho teenagers still admit to cuddling.

Blankies have a hard time surviving past the toddler years. They get drooled on and cried on and dragged through everything. They creep off strollers and end up wrapped around the wheels sometimes. As resilient as they really are to survive any of these obstacles at all, they still shred and tear. But that shrinking, tearing mess does not make them any less attractive to their owners.

One woman was in despair when her chlld’s blankie was left at a restaurant and when they went to get it, the busboy thought it was a rag and had thrown it out.

I once asked a woman if I was seeing correctly when it appeared her lovely little girl was cuddling a rag mop. She reassured me it was just the remains of a beloved blankie that got washed too many times.

There’s now a way to make everyone happy. It’s this wonderful thing I created called a Blankie Keeper. It is a must-have for parents and kids alike. Mom is tired of looking at the torn blankie and junior can't let go of it. So to keep the peace for all involved, mom and dad can simply fold the blankie--or its remains—and put it into this adorable Blankie Keeper turning it into a pillow. Problem solved and you saved the landfill from one more discarded item.

This is a simple, yet obviously practical product, solving the age-old malady of Blankie Separation Anxiety.
Many kids like the tactile sensation they get from their blankies. If that is the case, the Blankie Keepers are open in the back, a child can still touch it and enjoy it.

They come in three sizes for receiving blankets, throws and a large one that will re-purpose crib bedding into a pillow for the big kid bed.

After all, what do you do with a crib’s quilt? You took great pains in choosing the right one and then it was rarely in the crib and hardly ever used. Now you can make good use of it instead of storing it in the garage. This is a keepsake you will be glad you preserved in such a useful and cute way.

Just go to www.BlankieKeeper.com and order yours today! Let me know what you think. I am open to suggestions. Enter "TOT 20" for 20% off your entire order!
“Every Blankie Needs a Keeper!”

Feminism Is Anti-Feminine

2008-10-21T13:01:00.000-07:00

By all definitions that I could find of “feminism” it is simply the belief that there should be equal rights for men and women. I remember in the 70s when I was just a little girl, hearing the extreme arguments that if women and men are equal then there will cease to be women’s and men’s restrooms in public places.

Equal does not mean the same. Two eggs are not the same as two pickles, but they both deserve to go in the refrigerator. Gloria Steinem and her friends seem to have ignored that fact. Likewise, you can have the same rights as men and still be feminine.

I have heard a lot of women bashing Sarah Palin as an anti-feminist. Huh? She is exercising her equal rights as much as anyone can. She is a working mother leading a state and might just be moving the family across the country for HER new job. How is that not being a feminist?

It seems that feminism, is defined by many, as meaning that you don’t have healthy relationships with men, you don’t have children, and you strive to have the reputation of being cold-hearted instead of friendly. If they had it their way, a woman would never revel in ruffles or blush in pink and anyone who enjoys being feminine is an empty-headed plaything.

I read an article recently where the author said she thought Palin was “an insult to feminism.” I can think of insults to feminism and Sarah Palin is not one. When my friend’s mother told us that being a checker in a grocery store was “a good job for a woman,” or when shopping for houses someone told me that a kitchen “is an important room for a woman”--those kinds of sexist remarks that limit a woman’s potential are insults to feminism.

If Sarah Palin cowered behind her husband and shied away from politics because she believed it wasn’t ladylike for her to do man’s work, then yes, that would be an insult and an embarrassment to feminism.

It’s shameful to be proud of your gender if all you are doing is acting like a man--and I don’t mean lesbians. Gays and lesbians should have the same rights as everyone else, even marriage. And if a lesbian wants to wear satin and lace on her wedding day, have at it!

Speaking of equal rights, men’s rights have gotten lost along the way, especially where reproduction is concerned. We have focused so much on a woman’s right to choose what she can do with her body, we didn’t notice that men have lost that right. There is nothing that says the men must know if they fathered a child before a woman can decide to end the pregnancy. While women can elect to have their tubes tied without consent of their husbands’, men in California (and perhaps other states) have to have their wives’ consent to get a vasectomy.

In the pursuit of equality, we have created an equally lopsided situation with genders on the opposite sides of the scales.

Indulging Isn’t What It Used to Be

2008-10-08T16:34:00.000-07:00

Many things change as you get older. Add marriage and mortgage and bigger responsibilities take priority. Add children and you are worlds away from the neighborhood where you lived carefree and downright frivolously. An interesting index of this trend is how you might indulge yourself in a little guilty pleasure.

In the 80’s indulging was far too many kamikazes at dollar drink night. It was such an excessive decade; people had parties—big parties—in their homes. Correction, in their parents’ homes, as soon as the parents went out of town. Sometimes patios and interior walls were repainted before mom and dad returned home. Sometimes plants were not watered when they were supposed to be and sometimes they were watered with keg beer. Fraternity parties often raged long after the highest-ranking officer of the fraternity was hauled away to jail. Clothing was bright—orange and magenta, purple and green, Mondrian prints with blocks of red and yellow, colored resin earrings and bangles, pumps in every color.

In the 90’s it was one more glass of cabernet after a big steak dinner, and perhaps a chocolate soufflé for dessert. Professional women in bouclè jackets with Chanel-style buttons, gold chain belts, strands of pearls and gold links rested on black turtlenecks. Suede and leather skirts in every color with blouses and broaches waded through malls. Chanel purses featuring quilted leather and a leather and gold link strap hung on every shoulder. Wide headbands, often leather, held back long bobs ala Hillary Clinton as first lady. Indulgence was also an extra pair of shoes or a new outfit for every date with a new guy.

After marriage indulgences were headed into the land o the mundane. Once child number one was born, indulgence was a cup of regular coffee after a dinner out just so you didn’t fall asleep on the way home. After child two, indulgence was nothing more than eating a hot meal while it was still hot. The bar had been lowered so low it seemed that normalcy would never return. Having more children would prolong this stage where indulgence is in no way sinful but just a glimpse of average.

As the kids get older and more independent, you find more time for yourself; more time to do the things you want to do and you seize the opportunities to do them. Things are a little more normal. Life settles in and you don’t celebrate a hot meal because you can expect that every night, even with a lot more noise than it used to entail. You can schedule a manicure and pedicure once in a while. Do bars even have dollar drink nights anymore? If they did, I might go if the music wasn’t too loud.

Recently on vacation in a time-share condo, with a kitchen so we can cook and eat in to save a few bucks, indulgence was something quite different altogether. These days, when resources seem scarce, the economy is in a valley, and the only color anyone mentions is green, indulging has become the simple sin of running the dishwasher before it is completely full and not using the air-dry setting. How depressing.

Slumber? At a Party?

2008-09-24T13:42:00.000-07:00

“What time are you going to stay up ‘til?” she asked her big sister with a devilish glint in her eye, anticipating the best for her big sister.

“Oh, probably until like 9:00,” she answered nonchalantly.

“Nine?!” what a tragedy! Her big sister showed her true colors as a conservative slumber party slumberer. Better known as a wimp! “It’s a slumber party! You are supposed to try to stay awake until midnight.”

“We’re little!” she defended. “I’m turning nine but most of my friends are only eight. We need to get to bed.”

Funny, the six-year-old was not convinced that was necessary. Knowing what she was thinking Mom did not dare convince her conservative party girl that she could or should cut loose a little. It was similar to the dilemma of whether you told little kids to pick up as much candy as they could from a piñata. You want them to understand the object of the game, but the results can be painful.

She thought: This is your big night of the year and you have permission to have a slumber party. How could you go to bed early? How could you go to bed at an hour that mom and dad sometimes allow on movie nights? How can you blaze a trail for your little sister if you play it safe every time? Nine o’clock? Are you serious? Midnight is the bewitching hour for Cinderella, et al. You have got to go for the challenge and TRY to stay up at least that late. This does not bode well for high school. Why doesn’t she know this stuff?

Mom thought: Why does the six-year-old know this?

Alas, at the end of “Ariel’s Beginning,” the eight- and nine-year-olds were all yawning. The six-year-old? She was choosing movie number two.

The party girls trouped into the bathroom to brush their teeth and into the bedroom where it was wall-to-wall sleeping bags. There were just four other little girls to keep it manageable. Then something happened once they entered the slumber zone. Something everyone except the birthday girl expected. They woke up.

An ebullient second wind blew in and energized the girls for a few hours of impromptu talent shows, fits of laughter and telling tales of third grade triumphs and challenges.

At 11:00, while the six-year-old was sound asleep in her own bed (wimp), the girls were asked to take it down to a whisper so the grown ups could go to sleep. After a final burst of noise, the calm settled in and the lights went out at 11:30. Unfortunately, the lights came back on at 6:00 a.m. the next morning. Over chocolate chip pancakes and maple-syrup glazed bacon—a breakfast Will Ferrell might have enjoyed in the movie “Elf”--a few swore they were up until midnight. Not sure how they know, but that’s okay.

“Midnight?” little six-year-old was thrilled and oh so impressed. Someone reportedly made it and that’s good enough for her.

Best of all, they all got along and everyone slumbered.

Why This Democrat is For McCain & Palin

2008-09-04T11:14:00.000-07:00

I was hooked on John McCain during the 2000 primary. He wasn’t about party and I share that with him. I vote my conscience and I vote for capitalism. I’m a Democrat because I believe there has to be a safety net for those who aren’t making it. The abuse of that safety net is often what gets the most play in the news and the abuse is shameful, I agree. Just as taking contributions in exchange for votes is horrendous.

In 2000 I wished for a ticket of McCain and Bradley. Alas, that party commingling was not going to happen. The last eight years are what they are. I have no problem with us defending our country and fighting unconscionable acts that others inflict in this world. Goodness prevails and the United States is the model for that good. It’s worth the fight.

I don’t think politics are worth being bitter over. Politicians are willing to serve and I have to believe that most do it for the right reasons—to serve the greater good. We have a choice when we vote and we can voice our dissatisfaction whenever we want, it’s America. I quit waiting for the perfect candidate; they are all just people. I don’t even agree with my husband all the time. Though I am pro-choice, if you are pro-life, I respect your conviction and that’s the way it is. It’s called democracy. McCain was about the best I had seen to not worry about going against the grain of party politics. Then along came Sarah.

I listened to her speech last night and tears came to my eyes between giggles. You could not have manufactured a candidate who had more of the major issues covered in her own life. She is pro-life and she gave birth to a Down’s baby. If you have kids and went to all your doctor’s appointments, you know that she knew her baby had Down’s well before the day he was born. It’s not like she wasn’t busy enough as Governor to justify a different choice when faced with this news. She lives her convictions.

She’s a working mom who cooks her own dinner, has an all-American, union member husband who fishes for a living. She volunteered in the PTA, went to her children’s sporting games, she’s smart as a tack, funny, confident and attractive. She gets it and is not afraid to say so. She is the kind of woman who deserves to be at the top. Goodness prevails.

There is something very Kennedy-esque about her. The Kennedys always hold family first, regardless of the foibles. Governor Palin radiates family, regardless of the foibles. She is a remarkable roll model for all women. Maria Shriver would have a hard time not liking this woman.

Unfortunately a lot of women are saying they need a candidate who believes exactly what they believe. I don't believe 100% of what my friends believe, that does not make any of them less of a friend of mine. If that is supposed to be the basis of a good candidate, I would never vote.

I am proud to be voting for this ticket as a registered Democrat. There are still some Democratic candidates I am rooting for, but not in the Oval Office. My six-year-old daughter refers to Barack and Michelle as the “Obama-nables.” I agree. There’s no substance backing him except his running mate who joined the Senate in 1973. Is that change?

A statement by Benjamin Franklyn wraps up the Democrats to the Republicans this time around. He said, “Thunder makes all the noise, but lightning does all the work.”

A Dip in the Gene Pool

2008-08-10T13:35:00.000-07:00

Enough about the travel to Tennessee. Now for the stuff when we got there. There were 57 family members--dads, moms, uncles, aunts, sisters, brothers, and most of all cousins. First cousins, second cousins, and removed cousins and a few not blood—or current marriage--related at all, but just as welcome. Even a wayward resort employee joined the fun. (Who could resist?)

Follow along closely as we swing and dangle from the family tree. (My dad is a pro at keeping this all straight.) My kids and my sister’s kids are first cousins. My first cousins are my kids’ first cousins once removed. My cousins’ kids, are my kids’ second cousins. My kids’ second cousin’s kids, are my kids’ second cousins once removed. Those same kids would be my cousins twice removed. There were no third cousins, but there could be at the next reunion in 2010, then again, maybe not.

For the sake of this post we will just use the word cousin, even though “cuz” seems more appropriate in Tennessee, it just gets annoying and there are too many teachers in this family who would mark-up their screens with a red grease pencil.

With miles between us and no glaring physical attributes that join us together, there are still similar reflections rippling in the gene pool. The DNA springs up like volunteer dandelions growing in a lawn. There’s no rhyme or reason, but the resemblances and attitudes, sometimes aptitudes, just feel like home. That’s when you appreciate the value of family in its greatest sense.

These are the things I learned that stood out most:
• Like determined dandelions, the McCormicks have a stubborn gene and enjoy a challenge;
• More than stubborn, there is a sarcasm that is readily available and applauded in most cases;
• The spouses are good sports;
• A cousin in Chicago can make a triple taco with her tongue like I can;
• Two of the youngest cousins watch TV while flipped upside down on the couch;
• Four cousins reached the highest level of Girl Scouts and have successfully squashed the production of “Girl Scouts Gone Wild,” wherein you would hear familiar phrases with new meanings like, “See my badges!” “Wanna buy some cookies?”
• Family trees can be really tall;
• The Uncles are a little like Friars—silent, but still on their rockers (for the most part);
• No matter who is driving, it takes four times as long to get back from anywhere in Tennessee;
• The “scoop” is something different on the farm than in an ice cream shop;
• My aunt was a poor driver—aha! It’s genetic after all!
• Barbie dolls go skinny-dipping in creeks in Pennsylvania;
• What’s with all the teachers? They’ll never be done with school;
• Cousins have done walks and runs—marathons even--to raise money to treat leukemia and cancer;
• A quilt can be made in a week—and by amateur quilt makers;
• Sunrises in Tennessee include the sound of bugs hitting the window (bad drivers);
• After it rains in the Smokies, the mountains actual smoke;
• Shopping is in our genes, we just can’t escape it;
• The McCormicks got to wear the Smart Hats in the McCormick vs. Goff trivia game;
• Spelling T-E-N-N-E-S-S-E-E can be more difficult than it seems;
• There is a future for little kids who like to hula hoop;
• Gladys Knightgarner and the Bum-Pips shall live in our hearts forever;
• Really great Chex Mix is called “It” or “Texas Trash”;
• Add oil and dill weed and even stale pretzels will entice you to eat the whole bag;
• Playing games involving shoes and windows are sure to shatter your mom’s nerves;
• Who needs 18 holes for a round of golf? One will do (it’s a matter of perspective);
• Be glad when your daughter plays with imaginary friends and casts herself as the quiet girl who doesn’t talk;
• Planning a reunion takes a lot of work;
• Cousins look alike and often look like their aunts;
• Face it, Goffs really are just McCormicks;
• Families take care of each other;
• There’s always room for more;
• There's a lot of love left in these fields.

One-a-C, Two-a-C, … Tennessee!

2008-08-04T21:47:00.000-07:00

I am so glad I live in Southern California! Nothing confirms this more than a recent trip to Tennessee. Granted, I did not go to Nashville or Memphis, which I would still be interested in visiting, but the part of the Volunteer state I saw was beautiful but lacked direction--literally. I will give the benefit of the doubt to other areas of the state. Believing Sevier County is indicative of all of Ten-A-C is like believing Colusa is indicative of all of California. It ain’t.

I attended a family reunion held at The Preserve Resort in Wear’s Valley in the Smoky Mountains. Neighboring cities are Gatlinburg and Pigeon Forge. The Preserve Resort was beautiful, but one trip down the main drag in Pigeon Forge clarified a comment that a Knoxville native made while waiting for our delayed flight in Atlanta. When I told her we were going to Pigeon Forge, she said, “I am so sorry!”

Imagine the Vegas Strip designed by second graders and you have a pretty clear vision of beautiful downtown Pigeon Forge. There is every tacky attraction found off the beaten track in every tourist city—even Vegas! There’s a Ripley’s Believe it or Not Museum, about a dozen miniature golf courses, a variety of challenging go-kart courses, some extreme carnival ride and bungee jump places, a hundred pancake houses that all have the word ‘America’ in their names, then multiple chain restaurants from glorified coffee shops to steakhouses, surrounded by outlets—the Jerky Outlet, the Fireworks Outlet, and best of all, the Russell Stover Outlet. Don’t ask why the stuff is on sale, it might take the thrill out of buying it so cheap!

North on this main drag is highway 321. South is 441. Really!

The Preserve Resort is 2.8 miles up a road that wound round, dipped and climbed through woods and cabins with blind turns and a few forks. Although it was freshly paved, there were no lights. I was forewarned and always came back before curfew.

Wear’s Valley was not even on the map that came with the rental car. Alas, my eight year old could not navigate for me. That same map was useless in getting back to the Knoxville airport, and not just because I could not find the map. You take the 321 South to the 129 Bypass to the airport. The rent-a-car map does not show those two roads ever intersecting.

But I don’t think it is the rental company’s fault. I am pretty sure that the people who live there have never lived anywhere else. I am sure the only reason they have names or numbers on their streets was at the threat of losing federal highway monies. Those names are fake in their minds--just for show.

All directions, even the official ones on the resort’s website include landmarks instead of names. Instead of giving distance between turns, they use words like ‘soon,’ and ‘at this point.’ Translation:
Soon=17 miles;
At This Point=you just passed it.

When I got to this point and sensed that I had missed a turn to get to the airport, I stopped at a gas station.

“Yep, you missed it. Go back to the fourth stop light and turn left,” the cashier said.

“What is the name of the street at the fourth stoplight?” I asked, choking down laughter.

“It’s the 129. It’s right by Shoney’s Restaurant.” Of course, that famed tourist attraction, Shoney's! How could I have missed that? The sad part was we just had lunch across the street at Aubrey’s—which had quite an impressive beer list. (Remember that next time.) If only there had been a sign at that intersection, just a drawing of an airplane and an arrow would do.

Laughing at the directions, I forgot which way to turn. By the second stoplight I called the rental car company to ask, “If I am traveling north on the 321 to the 129, which way do I turn on the 129 to get to the Knoxville Airport?”

His reply: “Do you see the Burger King?”

Oy!

On the other hand, the cabins had full air conditioning, hot tubs, and Jacuzzi tubs in every cabin. Loaded with wireless Internet access, the cabins were better than a lot of Starwood resort properties and, in some ways, better than my own home. Not to mention, we had great cell reception. The resort even has a pretty nice website, but not surprisingly, the website does not include a physical address so attempts to get directions to the airport from MapQuest were futile. I guess the mailman knows where to take mail that is addressed, “Go right soon after the Fudge/Fruit Stand on Happy Hollow, follow the blue and white signs.”

Here is my personal L.A./Ten-A-C comparison list. Keep it handy if you ever find yourself in that part of the country. If you get lost, just turn right at Burger King.

L.A.
Streets are known by names

TEN-A-C
Streets are known by how many stoplights they are from where you are right then, and landmarks. But not good landmarks. There’s a difference from telling someone to get off the freeway at Dodger Stadium (where there are signs) compared to “turn left at the Advanced Auto Parts store.” Especially if there are two of the same store within a mile of each other.

L.A.
People who work in any capacity remotely related to the airport or an airport hotel, know the airport. I have never gotten a shuttle driver at LAX or a neighboring hotel or parking garage who did not have a better than average understanding of the airport and the surrounding area.

TEN-A-C
The Knoxville (Alcoa) Holiday Inn Shuttle driver (40-something year old woman) has never picked up anyone from the airport at the arrival terminal. She did not know what that was. I needed her to take us there the morning after being in the hotel to retrieve our rental car. She could not figure out why you check-in with a car rental place IN the airport and go to the garage to get the car. She kept taking me to the garage. “That’s just crazy. They really have this all screwed up!” she complained.

L.A.
Highways have signs. Lots of signs. Signs that tell you where you are, where you are headed and the next six off-ramps.

TEN-A-C
Who needs a sign? The road you are on is the road you are on and it will take you to where you are going. Dead end of story!

L.A.
Highways are the same going North and South—the I-5 is the I-5, the 405 is the 405. Anything that intersects has its own name.

TEN-A-C
North 321, which takes hard right and left turns all over the state, is the same as 441 South. No wonder they call it the scenic route.

L.A.
Amusement park parking lots have exits clearly marked.

TEN-A-C
At the famed Dollywood amusement park, there are only signs for parking, more parking, coach & bus parking, and parking. How do we leave? There’s an exit sign at the exit. Ten-A-C Reasoning: We don’t need them on the highway, why would we need them in a parking lot? We tell you where you are when you get there. Soon.

In L.A. you can buy alcohol--all kinds, at liquor stores, grocery stores, food warehouses, and even some gas stations; affordably, every day of the week.

In Ten-A-C you can buy beer and wine at grocery stores on most days, but don’t hold your breath for an import beer. A bottle of Absolut that is $16.99 in SoCal is $32.00 at a package store in TN. Maybe they don’t know the medicinal qualities of vodka.

L.A.
Tall buildings.

TEN-A-C
Tall trees.

L.A.
Smog (much better than it used to be).

TEN-A-C
Fresh air.

L.A.
Fresh produce grown in CA

TEN-A-C
Anything you want deep fried. Even peanuts in the shells.

L.A.
The roar of the ocean

TEN-A-C
The roar of cicadas

L.A.
Hollywood

TEN-A-C
Dollywood

Two to One

2008-08-03T22:10:00.000-07:00

I just took my kids to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee for a family reunion. We were outside Pigeon Forge in a beautiful cabin overlooking the Smoky Mountains. It was a wonderful trip but not without some challenges.

My husband had a previous engagement to go to golf camp with his dad in Colorado. He had to miss his chance to hobnob with hillbillies, but we all have to make choices (whatever!). The hillbillies were the locals, not my relatives, of course. The family prefers the term “Rurally Cultivated.”

Traveling with a kid to parent ratio of two to one can be an adventure on many levels with lots of learning opportunities. The biggest challenge is going to the bathroom. You can’t send one by her self, and you can’t leave one behind to watch all the carry-on bags. If you don’t schedule some potty breaks, you are sure to get caught deciding among sending them alone, going with them and leaving your stuff with strangers, or re-packing the mule (AKA Mom) every time nature calls.

A few weeks ago the two had gone into a bathroom at a restaurant where they were dining with their aunt. Sharing the same ratio and the same challenge, she sent them to the restroom while she stayed at the table where she could see the ladies restroom door. It is unclear what really happened to make them believe they were locked in, but their imaginations spun out of control faster than a smoothie in a blender.

In a split second they believed their aunt was going to completely forget they were with her, pay the bill and leave. As fear took them hostage, they didn’t pull the door instead of push, or turn the doorknob and then try to push/pull. They did what little girls do best. They screamed! She retrieved them and all was well.

The first opportunity for the potty break was on the plane from Los Angeles to Atlanta. We had just finished not eating our $8 Todd English-developed fried chicken sandwiches and the cellophane pouches were sprinkled all over the three lap trays in front of us. We were on a big plane; two aisles, seven seats across, with three in the middle, that one. We had the three seats in the middle allowing a 360 view of the cabin.

With a little prodding, I got her to agree to take her sister so I could mind the trash now all shoved over and piled on my tray. I could see the bathroom and would just keep my eye on the door until they made it out and make sure no one else tried to make their way in.

“If something happens, push the call light that has a picture of the stick lady carrying a cup. And don’t scream.” This warning seemed warranted. If they scream on a plane these days, I think a ranger pops out of the overhead bins and arrests somebody.

“Why would something happen?” she asks. Uh-oh, I have now introduced the possibility that something could happen.

“Nothing will happen,” I reassure her. “Now just go over there. It’s right behind the TV.”

I see their little heads bob above the seats to the TV, and come back.

“What’s wrong?”

“Mommy, that’s an EXIT,” they explain with a hint of “what kind of a mother are you anyway?” in their voices.

“Behind the exit row is the bathroom. Look, I can see the light on, can you see it?”

The little one was certain she knew just what I meant.

Off they went again, up six rows and into … the kitchen.

“The other TV,” I mutter under my breath. They reappear, trot across the aisle, and the light from the bathroom disappeared behind the folding door without any screaming.

“Mommy, mommy! Call Daddy when we get to the airport and tell him we went to the bathroom by ourselves on the airplane!”

Mission Accomplished: Potty Independence.

Project Funway

2008-07-26T11:18:00.001-07:00

Taking my kids to a "cocktail party" meant they needed cocktail dresses. I pulled out some decorator fabric that I had purchased on a whim because it was only $1 a yard. Yes, a dollar! I think I bought five yards. A mere fin for loads of potential was a bargain. I have lots of these affordable bundles of fabric just waiting for inspiration. This was the perfect opportunity.

I made my girls matching straight dresses, backless with a tie in the back. My self-critique of my sewing is that I am slow. Perhaps not, but I always under estimate how much time things will take. These two dresses took a little over two hours total. My secret? few seams. I cut the skirt to go all the way to the back--one seam. I made a simple lining for the top and used a silk cord for the neck instead of creating fabric ties which could take forever.

Best of all, it matched their Shirley Temples!

Last Call for the Perfect Elixir

2008-07-02T16:54:00.000-07:00

Vodka has long been a favorite spirit for its flexibility with mixers for a variety of wonderful cocktails all that have unique flavors. From a variety of martinis to a kamikaze or a bloody mary, run with a greyhound, unwind with a screw driver, and bam, you're hammered! But apparently, there's more to do with vodka than drink it.

Traveling medicine men might have suspected this remedy cure-all from the concoctions they sold, but here are some new ideas for an old favorite. (With some editorial comments in parentheses.) Don't use the Ketel One or the Grey Goose when good ol' Kamchatka will do just fine. While reading the following potent uses for vodka, one is reminded of Boris Yeltsin talking to Bill Clinton: "Vodka and French fries. The potato--good vegetable!"

1. To remove a bandage painlessly, saturate the bandage with vodka. The stuff dissolves adhesive. (So does lighter fluid but I don't want it on my skin.)

2. To clean the caulking around bathtubs and showers, fill a trigger-spray bottle with vodka, spray the caulking, let set five minutes and wash clean. The alcohol in the vodka kills mold and mildew. (Maybe even better than that hydrogen peroxide-based cleaning stuff. Is it considered a "green" product? I don't know.)

3. To clean your eyeglasses, simply wipe the lenses with a soft, clean cloth dampened with vodka. The alcohol in the vodka cleans the glass and kills germs. (Germs? What are you doing with your eyeglasses? I guess you could clean petrie dishes too.)

4. Prolong the life of razors by filling a cup with vodka and letting your safety razor blade soak in the alcohol after shaving. The vodka disinfects the blade and prevents rusting. (Imagine what it can do for garden tools.)

5. Spray vodka on wine stains, scrub with a brush, and then blot dry. (So if you make a killer punch with wine and vodka, if it spills will it not stain? Cool!)

6. Using a cotton ball, apply vodka to your face as an astringent to cleanse the skin and tighten pores. (This is why messy drunks don't have acne.)

7. Add a jigger of vodka to a 12-ounce bottle of shampoo. The alcohol cleanses the scalp, removes toxins from hair, and stimulates the growth of healthy hair. (Who will be first to market a vodka shampoo? Remember Body on Tap, the shampoo with beer in it? For shampoo shots, just install a dispenser in the shower.)

8. Fill a sixteen-ounce trigger-spray bottle with vodka and spray bees or wasps to kill them. (You can use the same spray bottle for your hair and shower stall--how convenient. You can't do that with Tilex!)

9. Pour one-half cup vodka and one-half cup water into a Ziploc freezer bag and freeze for a slushy, refreshing ice pack for aches, pain or black eyes. (If the pain doesn't go away, cut a hole in the corner and drink it until pain subsides.)

10. Fill a clean, used mayonnaise jar with freshly packed lavender flowers, fill the jar with vodka, seal the lid tightly
and set in the sun for three days. Strain liquid through a coffee filter, then apply the tincture to aches and pains. (Or bottle it as a new lavender liqueur. All else fails, you have cleaned the mayo jar, that's not easy!)

11. To relieve a fever, use a washcloth to rub vodka on your chest and back as a liniment. (Yeah, it's alcohol. It's the evaporation that cools you down. This same process works when you spill your vodka tonic on yourself after dancing. Refreshing!)

12. To cure foot odor, wash your feet with vodka. (Won't your feet then smell like vodka? This same process works when you spill your vodka tonic on your feet after dancing.)

13. Vodka will disinfect and alleviate a jellyfish sting. (So, go ahead and pack the vodka the next time you take the family to the beach, and if it gets too hot, just splash some on your skin for a quick cool down.)

14. Pour vodka over an area affected with poison ivy to remove the urushiol oil from your skin. (Woohoo! Justification for HIKING with vodka! Who knew?)

15. Swish a shot of vodka over an aching tooth. Allow your gums to absorb some of the alcohol to numb the pain. (This is what I have been doing! Absolutely no tooth pain exists, ever!)

There you have it. Keep the vodka in the medicine cabinet, beach bag, backpack, shower, and the garden from now on! Maybe we can find little vodka-infused towelettes in individual packets to take full advantage of this miracle cure. There was no source on this list, but one might deduce that it comes from the Vodka Sellers Association of America, and not the makers of isopropyl alcohol which does all the same stuff for pennies on the dollar.

Confessions of an Eco Dunce

2008-06-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

In the midst of global warming, a gas crisis, and water rationing, I realize how much I don’t know about what is the most environmentally-friendly way to do things. Couple that with some skepticism of the lore of the latest and greatest way to do things, and I am paralyzed. Every latest and greatest has a pitfall, and that’s what I wait to hear about--a story that upholds what I believe so I can cling to that.

For instance, when I was pregnant with my first child there was a lot of hubbub about using cloth diapers instead of disposable because the landfills were in danger of being stuffed with Huggies. Huh? What on earth do you do with dirty cloth diapers when you are at the mall or Disneyland? I knew that I was not going to use cloth diapers but was fearful that I would be a bad mom for not being more eco-friendly. I prayed for someone develop a biodegradable polymer that soaks up moisture away from baby’s skin by the time I delivered.

Then I read an article that saved me. It said that the chemicals used to clean cloth diapers were worse for the environment than disposables posed a threat of filling the landfills. Yay! There was a good reason for choosing Luvs!

Today with water rationing and the push to recycle EVERYTHING, I really do not know what is better: using paper plates or washing dishes; using paper napkins or cloth napkins that need to be washed; have the kids use plastic Solo cups and recycle them or wash cups. I am frozen in fear of making the wrong decision. Okay, not frozen, just curious.

I bought some bathroom shower cleaner by 7th Generation that labeled itself environmentally-friendly. I like that idea. Especially for use in the shower where I don’t want to run the risk of standing in bleach and burning my feet. Unfortunately, it was about half as effective as the regular Clorox spray I use. I read the label and found that the environmentally-friendly ingredient was hydrogen peroxide instead of chlorine bleach. I am totally perplexed on this one. Hydrogen peroxide reacts with water and reacts with light (that’s why the straight stuff is packaged in a brown bottle). Chlorine, however, is used as an agent in our water source to clean it. How can the hydrogen peroxide be better than chlorine bleach? I am thinking they are both as bad on my feet if I stand in them, but one actually would keep my tile clean.

I was surprised to read on a “green” website that they supported buying in bulk because it was fewer packages. On the otherhand, let’s not overlook the re-packaging of the bulk items. Little Ziplocs for lunches, big Ziplocs for storage, and a full recycling bin of cardboard.

Now waste has many different categories. There’s standard recycling of cans, plastic and glass; then there is e-waste, or electronic waste, which is plastic-encased electronics and cathode ray tube devices (computer monitors, TVs, etc.); universal waste, which is light bulbs and batteries; and household hazardous waste consisting of aerosol cans and paint cans. You are not supposed to carelessly dispose of any of it. That means you can’t just put it in the trash. Everything needs unique care and packaging to contain it and returned to special places to take care of it. When did trash become so labor intensive?

Overall though, the most befuddling question I have is why, with all the push to reduce, reuse and recycle, do we still print phone books?

Food for Thought

2008-05-17T11:28:00.000-07:00

From my experience in the Junior League of Long Beach’s Kids in the Kitchen initiative, I have become very aware of the prevalence of childhood obesity in the U.S. The Junior league of Long Beach has taken part in this initiative for three years and I think we do a good job of educating parents and children to make healthy choices. Simple stuff like no sodas, less fruit juice, no regular trips through the drive-thru can curb this immensely.

Much of the problem is just ignorance. In some households there is little regard to nutrition as long as the family is fed and in many cases, the less healthy and most satisfying meals are cheaper. This carries through with the conversations I have with other mothers about their nutritional habits. Often what they say and what they do are contradictory or incongruent and they just don’t know it.

I admit that my kids get some good and some bad stuff as part of life and I try not to make any grand statements about nutrition as a feather in my cap. I know I am not overly concerned with them eating candy, chips, cookies, etc. My recommendation is not to beat yourself up, but to be aware.

Here are some of the interesting statements versus reality that I have witnessed:

CHIPPY MOM: “I don’t buy potato chips!”

REALITY: BUT she buys the Costco trail mix of nuts, raisins and M&Ms that her kids eat by the handfuls. “It’s good for you,” she explains.

Nuts are a source of protein, but they are a fat. They are less bad for you then say a pat of butter, but they are still a fat and not a better snack than potato chips when eaten in quantities far greater than a serving size—combined with raisins which are concentrated sugar and chocolate candies with sugar, fat and caffeine.

HOP ON POP: “We don’t have sodas at home!”

REALITY: BUT for a snack they get a Krispy Kreme doughnut followed by an ice cream sandwich.

Milk and water are better choices, but one of the culprits of sodas is the sugar. So snacks like these are no trade-off.

WHOLLY MOLY: “We only have whole wheat bread!”

REALITY: BUT artichoke dip appetizers are ordered as a main meal.

Dips are basically flavored fat—that’s why they taste so good! A slice of whole wheat bread is not enough to counteract the calorie content or the effects of the fat.

DROWNING VEGGIES: “My kids love vegetables!”

REALITY: BUT she prepares them by sautéing them with “tons of butter” as she puts it.

It’s great that they eat them at all, but a slightly better alternative to get kids to eat veggies is to serve them raw so the nutrients are not cooked out, with a low-fat ranch dressing. A few other good tips to hiding veggies are to throw in a bag of spinach leaves into a pasta dish like lasagna or a baked ziti, or preparing baked goods like zucchini bread and carrot cake full of grated veggies, using apple sauce instead of oil in the recipe.

Pay attention to your trade-offs and your kids will be well-fed and happy. Take my word or it!

Revorce

2008-05-10T10:41:00.000-07:00

While blasting Christmas carols in the minivan last December, my kids found a sudden interest in the words to “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” The particular line, “what a laugh it would have been, if Daddy had only seen Mommy kissing Santa Claus last night.”

“Why would that have been funny?” Asked my big girl, we’ll call her Beegee (BG).

I began to answer with the truth, “Because Daddy is really San… .” I caught myself from ruining the Santa Mystique and said, “Daddy would have thought it was funny that mommy was sleepwalking and kissed Santa by mistake instead of daddy.”

“Oooh,” said my little girl, we’ll call her Elgee (LG), with a giggle.

But BeeGee wiped away that humor, “If mommy was kissing someone else they would have to get a divorce and one of them would have to move out.”

I wanted to burst with laughter but obviously she had thought about what would put a marriage at risk.

Elgee wide-eyed asked, “Mommy, is that what would happen?”

“I suppose if I was kissing someone else, Daddy would be mad. But don’t worry, I think Daddy would understand if I gave Santa a kiss to thank him.”

The chatter went on in the backseat about other random items of importance.

Later Elgee curled up next to me on the couch. Eyes serious, she spoke just above a whisper, “Mommy, that thing we were talking about in the car, … well, um … I don’t want you and Daddy to get a revorce.”

“I won’t kiss anyone, Elgee,” I assured her.

“Okay,” she agreed her face relaxing into a grin.

I am not sure where they get their information about divorce or revorce. I am sure there are a handful of kids at school whose parents are divorced and I am sure that those kids are pretty much in total darkness when it comes to understanding the dynamics of their parents’ divorce. They know that my parents are divorced and my mother remarried but we have never really spoken about the details. I think kids just fill in the blanks with what sounds good.

Proof positive, the other night at dinner Elgee asked me why Grandma and Grandpa got a revorce. Beegee thought she knew the answer, “Grandpa used to let mommy and her sisters and brother eat all the candy they wanted.”

Choking back the laughter, I said, “He did let us have candy and so did Grandma and she let us eat Pop-Tarts and sugar cereal for breakfast. They got divorced for reasons that had nothing to do with us kids or what they let us eat.” (They fought about the dental bills! Just kidding.)

I know that they have very little understanding of the complexities interpersonal relationships. I want them to know their home life is more secure than a Snickers bar being consumed or daddy sneaking a kiss from the missus while wearing a Santa suit. Now if Daddy is wearing a Santa suit eating the missus’ Snickers bar, that’s a different story! Take my word for it!

Buy A Round

2008-05-03T12:18:00.000-07:00

My dad has always said that you can measure a person’s character by whether they will buy a round of drinks. Even while watching hearings to approve a new Supreme Court Justice, he'll say, “They haven’t asked this guy the only question that matters: ‘Will he buy a round?’”

He says it during presidential elections, city council, county supervisor, and PTA elections. I thought he was joking at first. I thought it was just one of those funny things he says like every time we get out the car he says, “Dismount! Fight on foot!” Over the years I have paid attention to who buys a round and have tried to pull my weight with the bar tab. What I have observed is that he’s right!

There is a certain profile of the person that is happy to buy a round of drinks. Those qualities far outweigh the depth of his/her pocket. The person who offers to foot the tab is not only generous and gracious, but is committed to friendship and has faith that there will be a next time and the favor will be reciprocated. And if there isn’t a chance for reciprocation, that’s fine too. These people are genuine and understand the camaraderie established on a barstool, or a comfy couch. They have a sincere concern for everyone to have a good time and feel welcome. They aren't so uptight and intense that they never have a good time. It is the ultimate hostessing gesture.

The statement is proven more when you notice the profile of the person who does not buy a round. Some people are just broke—or always broke. Some people are just not very free with money. And others are just not nice. They don’t get that it’s gracious and kind to buy a drink for a few friends. Sometimes they are loners or lack social grace. But usually, they are not teambuilders. Teambuilders buy drinks.

The other side of it is receiving the drink. Receiving the drink does not enter you into a pact that you HAVE to reciprocate. It’s nice if you are able, but it’s not always expected. Don’t feel strange receiving it—just say thank you and toast your hostess or host. Pick-up her drink next time and she will be equally thankful. If you aren't a teambuilder, then just stay home.

I have a friend with whom I take turns. I buy drinks one night, she the next time we get together. This was her idea and is a great mechanism. It insures that there will be a next time and it all evens out. Take my word for it!

Science for Kids

2008-04-12T15:48:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it’s good to be wrong. Making a guess or an estimation and then finding out you were wrong creates an indelible learning experience. This is what the scientific method is all about. You identify a problem, make a guess as to how it might be solved, research, experiment, and find out the real answer.

I firmly believe that this is what a child’s science project experience should be like. I let my kids be wrong. Even if what they give as their hypotheses sounds so silly I am not sure if they are serious. I think, “She could not possibly believe that. She’s smarter than that, isn’t she?” But then it occurs to me that there’s no other way either of my kids might know any better. They are just little kids ,after all. So I write down the hypothesis as stated.

This year there were two large display boards with experimental accoutrements going to school from our house. The kindergartener proudly claimed that crystals come from a machine and the second grader was certain that trees cause wind by moving. Seriously. This is really what they thought.

Obviously I have fallen down on the job explaining clearly what a diamond mine is and we have not spent nearly enough time watching the weather channel. Honestly, although I know that trees do not move by themselves except in movies like “Lord of the Rings” and “Wizard of Oz,” I had no clear idea of what actually caused wind.

Through some research on the Internet and flipping through some general science books, both girls were able to learn the truth.

We turned in the projects to school where they went on display in the corridors of the main building. There were so many great projects posing great questions and beautiful displays. I have no problem with some adult help. I help my kids a great deal but try very hard to not impart my own opinions (thus, their interesting hypotheses). What I take exception to is the apparent solution before the project began. The hypotheses that match the conclusions PERFECTLY!

I am sorry, maybe those other kids are that smart, but I just don’t think so. I doubt that some of these kids knew the correct answer—and with exact detail—before they started. Come on! Let your kids learn for themselves how the Aztecs made an exact calendar. Let your little kids guess what grows a better rose. If they guess it’s Cheetos and beer, you might find out they’re right. And, if they already know the answer, then it’s not such a fun project and maybe you can think up something else.

The whole idea of giving kids experience with science is to supply them with that “aha moment” that all great inventors have had.

It’s fun to watch kids get it. And they really are not that embarrassed when they are wrong with their initial guesses--at least not in the safe learning environment of their own homes. That learning experience pays off. Both of my kids’ projects got chosen to go to the regional science fair. Woohoo!

Pick Up Your Stuff, It’s Time to Clean!

2008-02-28T16:51:00.000-08:00

God bless editors, especially when they make a mistake. It keeps everyone humble and a little more careful, which is never a bad thing. The below article quotes information from "the Fly Lady" and from "Suze Orman," but they are not the same person, even if an editor thinks that flows easier. Here is this article as it almost appeared in the March issue of Long Beach Magazine.

What’s worse than cleaning? Prep work! The organizing, de-cluttering, picking up, straightening, etc. Call it what you want, it is akin to weeding before you can really garden. It can take hours to sift through the piles of bulk mail, the kids’ handouts and schoolwork, and a myriad of other paper and magazines that seem to materialize on every empty surface of the house.

If you are not plagued—or blessed--with obsessive compulsive disorder, then cleaning a cabinet or a pile of mail is like having dental work done without anesthetic. The result is great; the process, excruciating!

There is a web site dedicated to less than cleaning-obsessed people—and for others who are worse off, i.e. they haven’t seen their sink’s surface for months. It’s called the FlyLady.com. FLY is an acronym for Finally Loving Yourself. Even if self-loathing has not permeated your monthly magazine pile, she has some great tips for keeping the prep work to a minimum so your weekly cleaning—vacuuming, dusting, scouring, and polishing—is easy to do and will not take a whole day.

The Fly Lady suggests setting a timer to complete de-cluttering in small chunks. You can get through one stack, one shelf, or one drawer in 15 minutes. Chances are, you will re-set the timer and do another stint. Put everything in one of three categories: keep, toss, donate. She strongly advises that if you don’t love it, it’s not worth keeping. Too good to toss? Donate it. Don’t get caught storing boxes in the garage for a later sale. If it’s not happening soon, get it out of the house. Spend another 15 minutes each night before bed putting things away. Work clockwise through each room.

FINANCIAL GURU, Suze Orman swears (on her public television infomercial) that wealth is attracted to cleanliness. She’s not suggesting to invest in laundromats and drycleaners, she explains that when you take care of your expensive things, you have space to acquire more of what you want. It’s what we tell our kids before Christmas and birthdays—they have to purge some toys to make room for the new stuff.

Kids help and hinder the clutter battle. They help make a mess and they hinder you from wanting to clean it up! To kick off good habits for toddlers, every new parent learns the song, “Clean up, clean up, everybody, every where. Clean up, clean up, everybody do your share.”

It works up until all their toys no longer fit in a laundry basket and more importantly, when they realize that they have a choice. Once their power to refuse is manifest, it’s harder, but not impossible. Children need to be micromanaged. Instituting a rule to put one thing away before they get out another works, but you cannot trust that the first thing went back to where it belongs. Many search and rescue efforts have uncovered secret hiding places of toys and other artifacts that “got put away” in the mad dash to get out the next item.

The Fly Lady’s timer trick works great with kids. Give them 15-20 minutes to clear the whole play area and PUT EVERYTHING IN ITS PLACE, and they can do it.

Her are some other easy-to-implement, effective ideas:
1) Tell the kids to whom you are giving the toys, clothes or books (any younger child they know), then they are happy to send them off with their blessings.
2) Give each child a paper grocery sack and 15 minutes to fill it with things they don’t need anymore.
3) Buy the toys back from them. Just $2 or $5 per toy or per pound (works great for Halloween candy too). It doesn’t have to be cash that you give them either. You can give them a gift card to Borders or credit toward a trip to an amusement park.
Now that the prep work is done, go clean!

Frozen in Time

2008-02-17T22:41:00.000-08:00

It’s been a while since I have blogged. My best explanation is that had too much time on my hands. That must sound funny, but it’s true. I had a client’s work stop, I slowed down my kids’ schedules, and I have been moving in slow motion ever since. That’s not entirely true, the holidays have their own special circumstances that had me whirling like a dervish to get everything just right.

Nonetheless, I have caught up on my sleep and my TiVo but am still not entirely on schedule. There were certain things that I automatically used to do because I had to. Many things that I completed on a pretty regular basis, like this blog, were worked in with precision.

A friend recently said she plans her day with “exquisite detail” to complete everything she wants to do each day. I love that expression. She’s busy and she makes it all work … in exquisite detail.

The art is planning your day with exquisite detail even when you have time to breathe and relax. Jobs expand when there is blank time on the schedule. It’s like a busy schedule is made up of solid blocks of ice, but when one or more things shift or get removed, the other blocks of ice melt and seep all over the page.

The only way for me to capture those liquid commitments is to make the relaxing moments as important as the non-relaxing times; to make the creative time as important as the taxing time; and to compartmentalize it on the to do list like a neat little tray of ice cubes all lined up

I’m going to put my calendar in the freezer. I’ll be blogging more soon.

Sexy Princesses and Other Tricks for Halloween

2007-10-29T20:46:00.000-07:00

My youngest daughter is very girly. Everything is princess this and princess that. With unwavering commitment she has said that when she grows up she wants to be a princess. Since she has been old enough to choose what she would be for Halloween she has been a Princess Fairy, a Princess Pirate, and this year a Princess Genie. She doesn’t understand the dichotomy of a princess in bondage to a master as a genie or a princess pirate who would otherwise be called a scurvy wench.

It occurred to me that she will likely do this princess routine until she is in high school when the descriptive “Princess” will turn to the modifier “Sexy” for every Halloween costume. Young women in high school, college, and beyond, become the Sexy Nurse, the Sexy Nun, the Sexy Baseball Player—you name it!

This made me think of my own Halloween experiences. I was a nerd for most of my life—okay, I still am. I chose clever costumes when I could. The thing with clever is that a lot of people miss the joke. Like carving a pi sign on your pumpkin for “pumpkin pi,” of course. It’s usually the sexy whoevers who condescendingly say, “I don’t get it. But oh my God, you’re so clever!”

As the youngest of four kids, Halloween was always sort of a bust for me. My costumes were usually hand-me-downs or odds and ends I put together to make something … something clever. If I did have my own, brand new costume, it was stiff with practicality. In first grade I was Miss America with a costume my mom ordered from the Sears catalog complete with a vinyl red cape, so I could sit down on it instead of the blacktop during the parade at school, my mother pointed out. It moved like a bathmat and smelled like one too.

One year, I think fourth grade, my mother was so excited that I could borrow a costume from a friend of hers. It was a spider. This woman had connected extra spider arms to the long sleeves of a black leotard. When you moved each arm, these two prosthetic spider arms moved with your arms. Your own legs in black tights completed the arachnoid’s appendages.

“Oh, it’s so darling!” my mother gushed. Right up until she made me put a coat on over it to trick-or-treat.

“Mom, it COVERS THE COSTUME!” I objected.

“It doesn’t matter, you are not catching a cold!”

The coat was tan and nubby and smelled like mothballs. The whole night people asked me what I was. “I’m a spider in Alaska! Duh!”

“Oh, that’s clever!” they’d say handing me a pack of SweeTarts.

It didn’t really occur to me in high school that people were focusing on sexy costumes until my boyfriend and I were going to one of those huge parties in a warehouse. It was one of those parties where you didn’t dare drink the punch without consequences. And you had better not want to use the bathroom because if the line didn’t get you, the lack of toilet paper would.

We were late, we hadn’t planned for costumes and were at a total loss for any clever ideas. At the last minute he suggested we go as bums. We pulled out some of my stepfather’s old clothing from a bag ready to go to Goodwill, stuffed pillows in our shirts and pants, and to look really authentic, we took advantage of his clever idea to give the impression of razor stubble on our faces.

We smeared Vaseline on our chins, cheeks and above our lips, then pressed on coffee grounds. Well, it should have been coffee grounds, but all we had in the house was instant coffee. It started emulsifying into coffee paste on our faces before we got to the car.

I was laughing, I thought it was funny and I was happy to be with my boyfriend. Then we got to the sexy warehouse party with all of his sexy high school classmates: the Sexy Witch, the Sexy Cigarette Salesgirl, the Sexy Nurse, Nun, Girl Scout, Cop, and Plumber (don’t ask).

I justified that they had to look like that because they’re single. I, on the other hand, was secure with my boyfriend, stuffed torso, and no eye makeup.

“Wow, Katie, look at you!” my boyfriend drooled.

“Leslie,” he said to me, “have you ever seen Tammie look so good?”

I hate you and I hate Halloween.

“What smells like coffee?” Sexy Bumblebee asked. “Oh, how clever!”

Since then, I vowed to never put anything yucky on my face for Halloween again. From then on, when I dress-up for Halloween, I have worn normal make-up, usually more glamorous than usual, curled my hair, worn cute clothes and perhaps added a hat. I was a sexy witch and wore a beautiful black, strapless, velvet and lace dress and a witch hat, a cowgirl with a beaded vest, a sorority girl with Greek letters on every article of clothing. No masks, no pillows adding girth, and no instant coffee.

As mom, I no longer dress up, but I make sure my Princesses get as much pink and glitter as they want at Halloween and I always buy an appropriate-colored turtleneck for each of them to wear under their costumes just in case it’s cold out. How clever!

E-Z Bake Birthday

2007-10-21T00:17:00.001-07:00

This year I asked my daughter if she wanted a party for her birthday or to take one friend to Sea World. She opted for Sea World. Fine by me! We figured it was actually less expensive when you calculate all the costs associated with a party and the work involved.

However, as her birthday was approaching, and invitations to her classmates’ parties started to appear, I felt I had to do something more to acknowledge her birthday. Her actual birthday was on a “minimum day” at school, meaning they get out an hour earlier than the usual 3 o’clock bell.

I figured the teacher did not want to take more time out to celebrate a birthday, and half of her good friends are in the other classroom. With only two days notice, I sent home a flyer to the kids in both classes inviting them to join Blaire for her birthday at a city park--a city park close to school, no parking or entrance fee.

I bought the flyer paper on clearance at Target for $2.50 a pack of 25 sheets. I posted an hour and a half timeframe and served Popsicles and cookies. I brought regular napkins from home, had a case of bottled water in an ice chest, and splurged on five helium balloons and one mylar (a special package around $7.00 at the local party store) just so you knew you were in the right place.

Favors or goody bags seem to be the place I easily overspend until it is way out of hand and I am giving a $5-$10 bag of carefully selected, and appropriately-themed, junk and candy that doesn’t make it out of the minivan that drove each child home. Over the years of putting together these cornucopias of piñata filling, I have saved the extras in a large bin safely hidden among cleaning supplies in the laundry room, out of sight of my children. You know, you need 15 bubbles and they come in batches of six, so you have three leftover. This bin holds the extra three of about twenty different bags of stuff.

Occasionally I get something out of this inventory of treasures to give to my kids, but mostly it just takes up space. When I thought about goody bags for this impromptu party, I thought of the bin and how I could put those things to good use.

I took that bin from my cupboard to the party and let each guest choose just one thing. They thought it was the coolest thing EVER! They were all happy with their one little item.

Since it was such short notice, I put on the flyer, “No gifts, please.” Some moms called and asked if they could bring one anyway—fine. I really did not want anyone to feel obligated to shop when I only gave two-days notice, and I was not offering anything that I had offered in the past: no train ride through the park, no swimming, no gymnastics games, no bouncer, not even a cake. Just park equipment and a Popsicle.

Her close friends were very generous and a lot of kids got to come who might not have been able to if they felt they had to buy a $10-$20 gift. My daughter never complained. She had a blast and so appreciated the gifts she got (we still have to do those thank you notes—yikes!).

Wow! They really had a good time and I didn’t drive myself crazy planning it. The moms were in heaven! Look what I got away with. They could all do it! The kids are perfectly happy just to be together and didn’t miss the usual glitz and glamour we usually make so important.

It was an E-Z party and was not more than $60.00 with a handful of bottled waters and two dozen cookies leftover. Cheers to simplicity!

Impressionism

2007-10-20T22:08:00.000-07:00

Years ago, 1994 in fact, when I started my public relations business as a home-based business, the whole concept of being home-based was new. It was difficult to convince certain business service providers that I was a legitimate business. I lost out on a few clients as well. There was one who insisted that I needed to have a boardroom and supply them with a bookkeeper who was not also home-based. The irony there was that the client was a local association who fought hard to maintain their rights to compete with government entities to contract out for their services.

There were associations that came to our rescue to act as a middleman for credit card companies, FedEx delivery services, and other things that became obstacles in our neighborhoods. The Home Office Association of America is a national group that helped secure those services for home-based businesses, and the local Chamber of Commerce was savvy enough to create a special discounted membership fee, and a networking forum for us to enjoy.

I went to the Home-Based Business committee meetings of the Long Beach Area Chamber of Commerce religiously. I spoke about the importance of public relations, I put together the monthly newsletter (my husband always loved the article I wrote entitled, “My Dog, My Co-Worker”). We were savvy, we were professional, we were determined, and we were dressed up.

Dressed up? you ask. Yes, I always laughed to myself when I showed up to these evening meetings with full make-up and dressed in professional business clothes, when the reality was that unless I had already had a meeting that day, I spent my day in shorts or sweats, my hair in a ponytail and zero make-up. I knew that almost every one of the 25-30 home-basers in that room was in the same boat. Sure, there was the occasional person who actually collected a paycheck and their home-based business—when successful--was their ticket to working in sweats … uh, I mean to freedom, their ticket to freedom.

We wanted to give the impression that we were 100% professional, 100% of the time That’s why we got dressed up for these meetings, even though we knew we were in the same boat.

Fast forward to present when I hang out with home-based mothers much more than any other sector of my life. We do the same thing in our own way, which is even more comical. We know each other well; we know who has a cleaning lady, a babysitter, or a husband who does a great deal. But there is no evidence of whether those things are true when we arrange a play date.

Whoever the hostess is, does her darnedest to clean like mad—or pays someone to clean like mad, whichever her schedule and pocketbook allows. There’s never any laundry out—folded or not, even though we compare where we fold our laundry, and leave it there until next week. My spot is the living room couch and love seat, one friend’s is the pool table, another puts all the folded laundry in baskets per family member, and yet another has a housekeeper who neatly and efficiently puts it all way. From the looks of it when you arrive at anyone’s house, you’d never know the differences.

For some reason, even though we are all in the same boat, and we know that we are because we all talk about our boat, we want to give a better impression. Why? Why does it matter?

I know a couple who recently underwent a remodel. As with many couples in this situation, they made some trade-offs. You know, you can have that backsplash, but I get to pick the entertainment center; you can have sunken tub, but I get a flat screen in the bar. Stuff like that. This particular trade off was that she got to pick certain details if he could have friends over no matter what the “condition” of the house was at that time. He wanted to be able to have spontaneous visits from friends without worry that they see laundry—the horrors! After all, don’t we all know what laundry looks like?

He got his wish but I have yet to hear if an impromptu visit has caught the household with piles of laundry exposed to friends or a few dishes in the sink.

I think he has the right idea. Perhaps with even more visits, we would all get over it and just enjoy each other. However, I know if I don’t HAVE to clean—I won’t. So maybe getting over it would lead to squalor for my family … Never mind!

The Magic Hole

2007-08-18T09:29:00.000-07:00

My husband’s favorite part of our marriage is what he calls the “Magic Hole!” I’m not kidding, the MAGIC HOLE. Yeah. You know what that is. It’s that thing that men who don’t have access to completely envy men who do. Every man wants one.

It disappoints me that he calls it 'the magic hole’ instead of giving it a cute nickname like Hazel or Alice. Something French might be nice. Come to think of it, if it came with a French maid’s outfit, he might even like it more. Whatever!

I think he has fantasized about the magic hole all of his adult life. A stroll down the aisle and no more trips to small dank rooms armed with pockets full of quarters. No worries that you forgot something once you were there or that you would lose something once you put it in. Once married, he could stop the jaunts to the garage to do his business. He now has a magic hole, one of the most appreciated gifts of marriage.

I know he would love it if the magic hole was exercised more often. But I maintain that once a week is plenty! No matter how much or how dirty it is. I really don't like it very much.

Oh, you are thinking dirty thoughts, aren’t you? Shame on you! Spray and wash your mind!

The magic hole is the LAUNDRY CHUTE, of course. Yes, that’s right, the laundry chute. He puts the dirty clothes in and they magically reappear clean and folded on the foot of the bed. That’s the magic hole. It’s like an automatic maid. Fluff and fold, and the man is happy. Who knew that the way to a man’s heart is through fabric softener? Mystery solved.

SCBWI

2007-08-18T09:24:00.000-07:00

I recently attended the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators (SCBWI) L.A. conference. It cracks me up that an association of writers does not have a better acronym. SCBWI—you cannot even pronounce that in any sort of comprehensible way. It sounds like ‘skibwee,’ which sounds like a derivative of scurvy.

Anyway, this was my fourth year at the conference. I was a senior in my knowledge of the conference: how parking works, where the bathrooms are, where is the best deal for lunch, what shops at the adjacent mall always have sales in August, etc. I also felt like a freshman since I have yet to publish a book. That’s okay since over and over I heard editors and agents urge sending only your best stuff in its absolute best condition. Let it sit for a few months if you have to, they say. In other words, don’t quit your day job because this will be a long process.

I always get new ideas and new perspectives from the conference. So even my best work that seems ready to jump out of the pot, is subjected to simmering and stewing some more. I rewrite, rearrange, and let it sit some more. If I pick it up the next time and it still seems good, or I catch a typo I overlooked before, I make a few small changes and go ahead and send it out to a carefully chosen publishing house. However, I don’t do it often enough.

The dichotomies of the children’s publishing business can be overwhelming. What I have learned over four years is that no rules are hard and fast. I have heard editors say they ignore cover letters and editors say they use the cover letter as an additional sample of your writing. I heave heard editors say not to compare your stories to existing work, and editors say to show you have done your homework and compare your story to current published work. Don’t submit in verse; we’re looking for verse. Feed our egos with compliments; don’t brown nose. No more than 200 words; don’t worry about word count just tell your story. Exclusive submission is mandatory; multiple submissions create urgency for us to read them. Blah, blah, blah.

One thing they all agree on is that a book is about the story and nothing else—no cover letter, clunky verse, or bad grammar—should detract from that great story you alone are able to tell. Onward I go to cook up that great American children’s story. The one your kids will ask you to read every night and you’ll enjoy it. Take my word for it!

Golf and Other Things to do in a Sauna

2007-08-14T11:06:00.000-07:00

I have been really busy the last two weeks, first with four days at the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators Los Angeles conference (which was great!), then five days in Tulsa, OK with my husband for the 89th PGA Tournament.

Let me tell you about the golf tourney first since that is fresher in my mind. It was really fun spending four days watching a golf tournament. The golfers experience good days, bad days, good holes, bad holes, etc. My assessment is that good golfers can rally. It doesn’t matter how often you hit the fairway on your drive, or how often you hit the green on your approach shot. As much as Woody Austen wants you to believe that he “outplayed” Tiger, the score is all that matters in the end, and Tiger won. Woods can rally from every lie, every color of grass on the course and get within a birdie putt almost every time. He knows when he has to push and when he hasn’t had a perfect round how to make up for that. The course is Tiger’s canvas and he recognizes that the final portrait is more important than each individual stroke. Runners up need not argue otherwise.

It is fun to see the golfers express themselves through their clothing, their sponsors, their mannerisms, and the few words they might say. Nonetheless, golf is a horrible spectator sport. First of all there are 18 opportunities to score and you can only see one hole at a time. We did find a spot near the fifth green where we could see the second green, the sixth green, and hear the drives from the third tee box. And we had shade! A definite benefit when the heat index is 104-110 degrees. But beyond the leader board, you really don’t have a good idea how everyone else is playing concurrent to the golfers you can see. Roars come from galleries watching John Daly’s drives, or Tiger making birdie, or a good ol’ boy making eagle. But those are our best guesses of what was happening. The course lacks a Jumbo-Tron showing what’s happening elsewhere on the course, replaying a great putt, or letting us guess the day’s attendance. Spectators could have a lot more fun if they could talk, cheer, or do the wave.

Alas, it is a quiet sport—more quiet than gymnastics--which does not make sense to me. Money aside, young men and women on 4” wide balance beams, four feet off the ground have a lot more to lose from a jarring cheer than a simple stroke made in the middle of a grassy knoll. My daughter’s gymnastics coach used to say that if a gymnast was distracted by a yell or cheer from another spot in the gym, then she was not properly trained. There’s something to think about.

The most often asked questions I have received about my trip involved the weather. Yes, it was hot. Yes it was humid. Yes it was like a sauna. Was it so bad I had to stay in the hospitality tent all day? No. Was it so hot that I could not even attend on Sunday? No. The biggest proponents of staying indoors, ironically, were the locals. It was funny. But they live in air-conditioned comfort round the clock. They let their cars run for a few minutes before they get in so the a/c cools it down. In Southern California, I do not have air conditioning in my house. On a hot day, my house is sometimes as hot as the outside. A few fans help circulate that hot air and fool us into thinking it is cooling the house. I vacuum in that air, I give the dog a bath in that air. I do the laundry, mop the floor, and scrub the tub, all in that air. I get hot, sticky and gross. To sit and watch golf is a pleasure—even if it is in that weather.

I have always heard that dry heat is better then humidity. I am not so sure. Yes, I was sticky and gross, but I didn’t feel like I was baking 100% of the time. I use Las Vegas as a prime example of dry heat. When you walk out of a casino in Vegas in July, you feel as if your breath is sucked out of you. Your skin tightens, and you sweat. The droplets of perspiration dry almost immediately and leave you with a dry crust of salt around your hairline and under your arms. In the Tulsa Humidity, I felt like I was in a steam room—something I pay big money at health spas to experience. Only in this steam room you could actually enjoy it for longer than ten minutes. The sweat drips off you without drying. This steaming effect is much nicer than being flame-broiled. It is even therapeutic. I will admit, that in a sunbathing experience I prefer the dry heat. Lying in a puddle next to a pool is not comfortable. Sweat mixed with sunscreen streaming to your navel and creating a pool of natural waste is simply disgusting. At least in a health spa you have a towel handy and a shower around the corner.

Anyway, there are worse things you can do than sit still and watch golf in a sauna. Blow dry your hair in that environment or try Bikram’s Yoga. That is actually done on purpose.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bikram_Yoga

What We Don’t Know

2007-07-28T13:40:00.000-07:00

There’s so much we don’t know. In that realm, there is a good portion of knowledge that we recognize we don’t know but that is attainable if we so desire. For instance, I know that I do not know how to build a rocket and send it into space. I also know I will never know how to do that. Even though it can be learned, I will not be going to school to become an aeronautic engineer in this lifetime. Then there is that knowledge that is unattainable. I can never learn how to spin a web. I think a spider is a lower life form than humans, but I will never be able to produce one thread of gossamer from my being.

Then there is a great big category of what we think we know but don’t. Nowhere is this more evident than in parenting. The road to parenthood requires no special skills. Any man and woman can accomplish it--no special education necessary. Recognizably, taking care of children is a low intelligence skill. The most primitive of the species managed to keep their young alive. This entry-level, no skills required job gives all parents a false sense of knowledge and expertise. Make no mistake, EVERY PARENT DOES IT!

Every expectant parent observes other families with watchful criticism, creating their own perfect formula for raising idyllic children right out of 50s television. They say to each other after familial gatherings or outings with friends who have kids, “Our kids are not watching Barney!” “We aren’t using pacifiers, they cause nipple confusion,” “You can’t let babies cry like that, they’ll feel neglected,” “Did you see that rash?” “If she doesn’t set that baby down, he’ll be spoiled,” “I will breastfeed for a full year,” “My child will be flexible and will take a nap wherever I say,” “My child will sleep through the night—I read the Ferber book,” “If our child ever talks back, he is getting more than a time out,” “Our child will have better manners than that,” “Our child won’t be bossy—it just won’t be tolerated,” “My child is only getting organic fruits and vegetables and no white flour or sugar,” and so on.

How do I know? I said some of the same things and some were said to me. Ha! Ninety percent of that planning and imagining goes out the window once you have that baby. I know what you are thinking. You are saying, “Nah-uh! I did everything I said I would!” That just means one of the following things: 1) you didn’t say too much when you were an expectant parent; 2) you might be totally self-absorbed and oblivious to other parents; 3) you were sick the whole time you were expecting and only went to pregnancy web sites poring over statistics to find out when you might feel better; or 4) you are a complete control freak and your children are going to rebel the moment they can.

I say 90 percent because if you were firm in your beliefs about a few things, you clung to those so you didn’t feel like a total indulgent parent. One of the things that we held firm on with both kids was that we would not have a family bed. I know that works for some, but we knew it would not work for us. Sure there were times in the early months when my daughters were in bed with us between feedings, but it was not a regular occurrence and we did not allow them to become dependent on a cuddle to put them to sleep. For you it might be organic baby food, or no TV.

Why does all this knowledge you amassed and opinions you created go out the window? Because parenting is one of those things you have to experience to understand. Like a kiss, or the taste of chocolate, or the weightless feeling in your gut you feel going down a hill on a rollercoaster. People can tell you all about it but the narrative just cannot convey the indelible effects a child has on your life or the way the reality of parenting alters your judgment.

New parents usually reside in that mythical land for 6-9 months, sometimes longer. Some parents, usually parents of an only child, can stay there forever. In the first few months, if a child does not have colic, sleeps longer at night than during the day, and takes well to feedings, then new parents pat themselves on their backs for a job well done. “This is easy! I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” Then personalities emerge and independent movement kicks in and new parents start to see how boundaries become blurry, how Barney and other TV characters can become your friends, and how barricades and toys that contain children are helpful. Saucers, bouncers, swings and playpens are necessities. Kids start to scoot, crawl, climb, walk. They learn to throw, to do razzberries with their lips when you are introducing a new food like spinach or green beans. They put objects in receptacles—remote controls in toilets, watches in baby food, dog food in their own mouths. They pull your hair, bite your shoulders, and throw up or even pee on you. But they are your children, you love them and you still think they are cute and wonderful. You are blinded by their very existence and are convinced that everything they do signals high intelligence and exceptional agility. The grandparents lead the march, so it must be true!

You might have a child that is very docile and not very strong-willed. Good for you but don’t get too haughty if you think it has anything to do with you. This is often realized upon the arrival of the second child who is rarely like the first one. A whole new game emerges. Some things you are more lax about—eating macaroni and cheese three meals in a row—and some things you are more strict about—we don’t talk to mommy during quiet time. Beyond the rules you enforce which are mostly consistent from one child to the next, it becomes abundantly clear that children have their own journeys and their own lessons to learn beyond what parents enforce. When you discover this, your pre-parenting opinions and judgments are even more humorous.

My friends who have three or more children are the most open and non-judgmental parents. They compare their children to others of the same age and laugh at their developmental differences. They aren’t paralyzed by their expectations that have been galvanized by reading too many parenting books that present everything in absolutes. They aren’t embarrassed if their child rolls over “late” or climbs “early.”

With my first child, I compared like crazy. I was constantly trying to make sure she wasn’t missing some milestone and that as a stay-at-home mom I was doing all the prescribed educational exercises and exposing her to all the right things. It was new territory for me and I needed some reassurance I was on the right track. After the first year of her life, I started to realize that comparisons were okay as a means to make sure my child was normal. That’s important. If you aren’t looking at any other children it might never occur to you that your child’s lack of responsiveness may be signaling a problem that you need to mention to your pediatrician. What’s less than flattering is to use comparisons to measure your parenting aptitude, which is what I was doing.

When my first child began to exhibit characteristics that could not have been learned in her environment I knew that she was her own person on her own path with her own pace, regardless of what I imagined her to be or could “make” her do or learn. With baby number two, I was able to sit back and enjoy what I could not control anyway. It was very freeing and allowed me to give much better advice with the perspective that parenting is a unique experience. It didn’t hurt that my children are quite different. It proved to me that I was a bystander of their physical ability and personality. Keeping them safe and modeling responsible behavior is enough of a job to keep me occupied.

People who want kids and don’t have them are by far the most critical of other parents that I have seen. They comment on parents’ responsiveness to their children’s whims, unresponsiveness to mild spills, smothering affection, or total absence of comfort. I understand that they are qualifying themselves with the stork. They are pleading their parental case with nature. I get that and I empathize with that. I also know they are in for a big surprise when they realize just how much they don’t know. Take my word for it!

So Cal Sal Goes to D.C.

2007-07-19T10:29:00.000-07:00

So Cal Sal is every dumb girl I have ever met. Like the one who actually asked a friend of mine where he kept his ice. So Cal Sal proves that there are such things as dumb questions.

*****

Like, Oh my God, so I went to Washington in D.C.—it’s a city, not a state. Did you know that? Anyway, so I went to visit my sister, she’s really smart. She’s going to doctor school there. There’s two George schools there ... then there’s a George bush, but I never saw where that grows. Then I got confused when someone was talking about marion berries. Maybe they grow on George bushes.

Anyway, so she like goes to one of those George doctors schools so I went to visit her. And, oh my God! So while she was at work or school or whatever, I went to museums. There’s this guy who like is so smart he collected all these cool things. There’s like dinosaur bones and like a humongous totally bitchin’ diamond, and all kinds of paintings and stuff. Have you ever heard of him? He doesn’t use like his whole name. All the museums say Smith Son Ian. I thought that was really nice that he like gave credit to his son and stuff. Yeah, Smith Son Ian. Then I think he has a partner, Aaron Space. That guy collects model airplanes and stuff, but like really big ones. I think my dad would like totally be into that.

So they do stuff totally different there. They say the government is there and it’s like running on credit. Well it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. They don’t know how to make money there. Like all of Ian’s museums are free. I think people would totally pay to see that stuff. Like here in California, we have to practically pay to use the libraries. Like we are so smart in making money.

It was really funny, you know? And then like … Oh my God, wait until you hear this … one day, I was looking for the mall. There were all these signs all over for it, but there was no mall there at all. It was like a big park. Like duh, a mall is where you shop and spend money, and tourists like me totally do that. They just don’t get it, you know? Like money makes the world like totally work.

So, anyway, it was fun to see my sister and stuff, but I totally could not do what she does and like cut people open and stuff. Yecch!

If you go there, take the Metro or a cab, the streets like make no sense. I got totally trapped one day in DuPont Circle. I just kept walking around and just kept seeing all the same stuff. Finally my sister found me.

She lives in a place called Foggy Bottom, which totally sounds like a diaper rash or something. Whatever! I hope the rent's cheap.

I swear, I have to remember to tell my friend who does remodels that he could totally like make a chunk of change there—cha-ching! Like I would think they are totally ready for remodeling. All the buildings are like totally old. Can you say “ren-o-vate”? Hello! Update the look already. I could not believe all the white buildings. Color could totally brighten that place up.

My sister had signed me up for a White House tour, but I had seen enough white, so I went looking for the mall instead. She kind of got mad at me. She said I would have liked it and learned something about the president. Now he’s got like a totally cool job, working from home and everything. How cool is that? And his wife just sits around and reads books or something. God, lady, why don’t you paint your house or something?

If I lived there I would like at least paint the columns. You could do some totally cute things, you know? Like a candy cane strip at Christmas. I think Martha could totally help her. I bet Martha’s prison cell was even totally cute. Oh wait, can the president’s wife call ex-prisoners? Well, maybe Oprah knows someone who could totally help her. At least watch a show, they totally tell you how to do it, even if you are like totally clueless with no fashion sense. I totally feel like so sorry for people like that, you know what I mean?

Anyway, it was like really fun to visit but I am glad to be home.

Bras

2007-07-13T08:43:00.000-07:00

When did it become okay to where the wrong bra with your clothes? I remember a stage brought on by Madonna with layers of tank tops, spaghetti straps and bra straps, but it was an interesting look. I think it is passé but it was interesting.

This morning I saw a woman getting dressed in the gym with a criss-cross spaghetti strapped, black top, with a regular white bra under it. The white straps that might as well have been a part of a Playtex Nursing bra were boldly displayed. Her skin puffed out on each side like a pink marshmallow squeezed with a ribbon around it. She looked trashy.

Looking at her, she was not a trashy girl at all. I think this was her attempt to look cool, a decade late, but daring nonetheless. She missed the mark. She wore it with a cute summer skirt. Black and white swirls filled an a-line. It would have looked darling with a simple black or white sleeveless shirt or shell. She was probably getting ready to go to work as she blow-dried her silky long brown hair at 7:50 a.m. Her freckled nose barely jut from her round, girlish face.

What would her co-workers think? She was trying to look cool and missed the mark? She went to the gym and forgot her bra? That could have been the case. If so, just snap your bra closed on the tightest notch and tuck the straps inside. A little lumpy is better than trashy.

If you are going for a sexy look, then at least wear your red satin bra. When you are showing that at the office you’ve just piqued your co-workers’ interest. Where was she last night? Where is she going tonight? Let them wonder something interesting. Those thick white straps scream one of the following,
1) “Hey look, my parents bought me this bra!”
2) “Grandma and I share lingerie!”
3) “Did you know they sold bras at the 99¢ store?”

There are options for bras including clear straps so you can wear the wrong bra and no one is the wiser. Many department stores now have Bra Specialists. I am not sure if that’s what they call them, Bra-ologists, maybe. Braziere Expert. Titslinger Technician (a little “Beaches” humor there, thank you Iris Dart and Bette Midler). Or my husband’s favorite, Over-the-Shoulder Boulder Holder Helper! Anyway, these women can size you up and put you in a bra that makes you look curvy in the right places and offers support for whatever you are sporting. If you are unsure if showing your bra is okay and what bra you should show, then go to Nordstrom and ask for some help.

In the meantime, keep your red satin bra in your gym bag for emergencies. Take my word for it!

Job Market

2007-07-04T00:23:00.001-07:00

Long, long ago, when I was married, but was not yet a mother, I remember my husband and I marveling at a friend's ability as a mother. She has twins and had not only breastfed them for the better part of the first year of their lives, as they grew she scheduled library visits and outings to the park or kids’ cultural events with ease and without complaint. “I treat it like my job,” she explained.

Good idea, I thought. Years later, when I had our first child, I did treat the new role like a job. It was easy. I put her on a schedule as soon as I could and stuck with it. She responded beautifully and I was able to maintain my second job (a home-based PR consulting business) without interruption. As she got older and I had another child, I realized how much structure was a part of her personality as much as it was a part of her life. Nature over nurture. It worked for her because her personality thrived on it, but not all kids are like that and they change. They grow into little people.

Something happens to children and as much as you tell them “No,” they discover they have free will. It happens around year three. The terrible twos are nothing compared to the thrilling threes. In year two, they test the water; in year three, they dive in! The business you have set up has just undergone a hostile takeover, chaos abounds, and you hear yourself yelling much more than any ‘One Minute Manager’ ever should. You find that the only way to manage is through manipulation, threats and bribery. I must have missed that business success book.

This is when mothers want to quit. This is when mothers who thought they would home-school their children are frantically searching for a pre-school--a pre-school that will take kids in diapers and have a summer program, no less. I gave up on the business model and began searching for something else.

When my kids were five and three, a woman I admire whose children were about 10 and 12 commented in a passing conversation about motherhood that she was always most concerned for the women who treated their mother role as a job. I didn’t get to ask her why, but it struck me when she said that and it made me feel better that I wasn’t the only one to have a problem with extending the term “job” to an all-encompassing, 24/7 lifestyle change that starts the moment you bring your child home.

I'll tell you why childrearing is not a job: because childrearing is like corraling cats! No business can be run with little people who have a ten-minute attention span and do not have a grasp on any sort of protocol--AT ALL. I have never had a business lunch meeting with a colleague who licked ketchup from her plate. I have never been in a boardroom with a professional who unabashedly picked her nose and ate it. The fact is, as a mother, you have to teach skills from square one: alphabet, colors, shapes, matching your clothing, socks and shoes, hygiene, manners, etc.

The only department of a corporation that resembles parenting is human resources with a huge accent on training. Kids are the employees you cannot fire. They are born into tenure with a retirement plan in the works. Human resources is constantly grooming them to someday start their own corporation, or more literally, a family.

Stephen Covey says in “7 Habits of Highly Successful People” to keep the end in mind. As a parent, you do that, at every step. From potty training to choosing a college. One thing leads to another and enables the next step in a developmental ontogeny.

Nonetheless, the reason motherhood is not a job or a business in any sort of professional way beyond low-level HR, is that above all else, it is a labor of love. It is sacrificial in ways you never knew it would be. The emotional skills you bring to the role are more important than any negotiation skills you have--but let's not underestimate those skills. Boundaries are definitely important and consistency is paramount to successful discipline.

On the flip side, colleagues never want you to kiss their boo-boos or read them a bedtime story. They don’t thank you for bubble bath or coconut-scented shampoo. They don’t stroke your cheek when you’re sad or hug your leg when they are scared. Motherhood is not a job, it’s a trusteeship.

As a parent, you serve as a steward to the young apprentice that you were lucky enough to have been given by whatever higher power you recognize. Larger than teaching them how to use utensils and the importance of eating fruits and vegetables, you foster their talents and try to help them make the right decisions the rest of their lives. You teach them ethics and morals, you share your opinions with them and hope they become good people. All the while you learn too, sometimes more than the kids do. Childhood and parenthood are inextricable and symbiotic—as painful as that might be. I am reminded every day to be more patient, more understanding, and that I am the only mother they have. While I sometimes want to pull my hair out, I know that motherhood is a privilege and I need to appreciate it for what it is and what it is not.

Take My Word For It!

Laissez Faire Liberal

2007-06-26T10:09:00.000-07:00

The other night at dinner I returned from using the ladies room to catch the tail end of a conversation my husband was having with the other couple we were with. They have a 16 year-old daughter who is eager to log her student driving hours and get her driver’s license. Her parents are less eager for that rite of passage and exhibit a great deal of trepidation. I think their daughter is a wonderful young lady with a great head on her shoulders. I would, however, be afraid of her getting out of their long stretching driveway on to a curving, busy boulevard. It would be one of those moments as a mother that you just can’t bear to look for fear of seeing a wreck. Rather than not watching, you just don’t allow it. Not getting out of the driveway pretty much stunts the rest of the driving experience, so I understand their fears though I believe their fears cruise beyond the driveway.

Nonetheless, today’s youth have grown up so much more aware of the dangers of smoking, drinking, drugs, unsafe driving, carnival rides, sunbathing, bad home permanents, et cetera. It doesn’t do any harm that Paris Hilton is in jail. Today’s teens get it. They get that it doesn’t matter who you are, you have to be careful and try to look—and think—before you leap.

On the other hand, perhaps they aren’t more responsible; perhaps the exposure to caution has not made any impact on them. Considering the prevalence of tattoos and body piercings, I could be dead wrong.

Right as I sat down, the conversation got down to the laws imposed for teen driving. As of January 2006 in California, newly licensed 16-year olds have a “provisional license.” Per the California Department of Motor Vehicles, drivers with a provisional license “must be accompanied and supervised by a licensed parent, guardian or other licensed driver 25 years of age or older or a licensed or certified driving instructor when you: Transport passengers under 20 years of age at any time, for the first twelve months, or drive between 11 p.m. and 5 a.m. for the first twelve months.” So much for car dates! I think it’s a good law. In my opinion it helps parents, “Sorry honey, you can’t drive your friends to the party tonight—it’s the law!”

My husband on the other hand explained he did not want the State to make that decision for us. I said quite gleefully, “Yay! It’s so liberal of you!” My thoughts were clear when I said it but as soon as all three set me straight that his thought was truly in the spirit of laissez faire, a complete and consistent Republican stance, my thoughts went around the bend as I just retreated with an, “Oh,” and a silent, “I knew that,” in my head. But wait, it made sense when I said it. Hmm. My thoughts, soaked in chardonnay, moved on to consider whether I still had a piece of banana bread at home to nibble on before bed.

The next morning I de-briefed—I always de-brief, even if just by myself. I re-play the evening and all the conversations in my head. I check for fragments of conversations where I missed something, I didn’t say something, or my thoughts wandered to banana bread. Aha! I remember my train of thought. My husband’s comment to me was very much like an argument against an infringement of a civil liberty. That’s all the ACLU does, right? And that’s a liberal entity, right? The question then is if limiting whom a teen can taxi around is infringing on a civil liberty and, within this restriction, whose liberty is being compromised? The parents’ or the teens’? Suppose we want our daughter to drive the neighbor to school or to an extracurricular activity as a favor to his mother who is battling cancer? According to my husband, that is our right, right?

From what I can tell in some cursory Internet research, the ACLU has nothing about protecting against age discrimination and nothing about the rules of the road. Nice try, Leslie, go back to banana bread. Nonetheless, there is a place that I think the two camps agree and there is definitely overlap of liberals to conservatives when it comes to liberties. Laissez faire meets liberalism when you keep going around the bend of thought. I’m comfortable with that, even if I can’t articulate it on the spot.
Something I do know for sure: an acre is roughly the size of a football field. In fact, a football field is larger.

Take My Word For It!
http://www.gigfoot.net/faq/100.html

###

The mission of the ACLU is to preserve all of these protections and guarantees:
• Your First Amendment rights-freedom of speech, association and assembly. Freedom of the press, and freedom of religion supported by the strict separation of church and state.
• Your right to equal protection under the law - equal treatment regardless of race, sex, religion or national origin.
• Your right to due process - fair treatment by the government whenever the loss of your liberty or property is at stake.

• Your right to privacy - freedom from unwarranted government intrusion into your personal and private affairs.

Reluctant Housewife

2007-06-23T12:19:00.000-07:00

I call myself a reluctant housewife. The kids get to me sometimes and the husband annoys me sometimes. I even yell at the dog on occasion. But the worst part of being a housewife, is indeed, the house. I hate to clean. I am not one of those women who live for the smell of Pine-Sol or run a white glove across a surface to check for dust. Don't get me wrong, I love a clean house, I just hate the process of getting that result. The dusting, the vacuuming, the sanitizing, mopping, polishing, waxing--I just do not enjoy it.

Easily solved, right? Just get a cleaning lady and quit complaining. Problem: cleaning ladies cost money, the last time I checked. I used to have one when I first had my second child and simply could not find time to put the cleaning above the mother, wife, career woman roles that I played each day. It was easy to justify and I could afford it. Then things changed. I had less income as my children got older and I took on more volunteer commitments. I think it is a normal cycle of a mother's life to volunteer more and work less. Admittedly, my volunteer work was more about my taking on leadership responsibilities within the Junior League and less about my children's schools or activities, but it served the same purpose. It offered me a little area of my life where I could be a grown-up away from my house and have some control over my involvement. Anyway, the point is, there was less money in the bank though I was just as busy as I had been with more clients and less volunteer work. The dish gloves went on ... reluctantly.

I clean sporadically and make the most effort when we are having company. Good thing that I host a lot of volunteer meetings a my house or the bathrooms would almost never be cleaned. This is one of those things about staying home with my children that I wish someone would have brought to my attention. Where was the career counselor?

On the contraty, I like to decorate, which requires cleaning--big cleaning, but one project a year is about all I can do and those seeem to take a year to complete and that takes money too. My plan is that I will just continue to reluctantly clean until my children are old enough and big enough to do more. My children are still at the age that what interests them about cleaning is using (spraying until they are all gone) the different colored spray bottles and unwrapping a role of paper towels around the house. You try to train them young and like all new moms, I had the delusion I could train my kids better than anyone had ever trained their own. And, like all new moms, I had to mop the floor and clean the cabinets of all the suds and water that splashed out of the sink while they completely and thoroughly washed one sippy cup. Woohoo! My kid's a cleaning phenom! Though the sippy cup went in the dishwasher because it was washed in cold water, it forced me to clean the floor anyway. Well, in that one little area.

I once heard an author speak about how the muse carried her far away from cleaning. She said, "There were times you could eat off my floors ... for months!" She just needed to do what I did--keep the dog in the kitchen during meals! Canine Zamboni to the rescue.

Anyway, I think that cleaning is just over-rated. Perhaps that is justification for me. In the meantime, if you are considering staying at home with your kids, my advice to you is not to do it unless you can afford to pay someone to do the dirty work. Take my word for it!