The Generation of Entitlement

There is an interesting letter to the editor in today's Wall Street Journal. It is in response to Charles Krauthammer's article which blames the "looming debt bomb" on entitlement. The writer goes on to explain how the younger generation has grown up with 4 particular leanings:

1) Exaggerated sense of entitlement. If you need to understand what this means, read Tiger Wood's explanation of his recent actions.
2)A generation whose parents did not let debt ever prevent them from getting whatever they wanted....which led to record personal bankruptcies, foreclosures and personal debt.
3) A failure, or at least non-proficiency in basic math, which leads them to not understand the dangers of excess debt.
4) The 'American Idol' mentality that says we can all have it all at any cost...and a preoccupation with celebrity culture.

Because of these 4 reasons, we are creating a generation that basically says "Who cares" when it comes to national debt.
From a personal perspective, it's a scary proposition. In our household, it is a daily struggle to get the kids to take personal responsibility and realize that they do not "deserve" anything and everything they want just because they are our children.

A friend who works at the local university pointed out how students take no responsibility for paying their tuition or bills on time....and parents back them up. The system is now set up to send an e-mail, twitter, facebook...plus the old-fashioned phone call, whenever the student is past due. When did this start happening? When I was in school, it was my responsibility to get my tuition paid on time. Nobody reminded me, and if I forgot, I was dropped from class. If I would have called my parents and questioned them about it, they would have chastised me for being irresponsible.

The Boy constantly begs for a phone. He thinks he deserves one because most of his friends have them. I try and explain that this means nothing. I try and explain that he has to earn things...on many levels. I try and explain that the mere birth of him into this family does not entitle him to any and everything. I try and explain that being a good kid does not mean multiple trips to Target and Best Buy. An A in math or science is rewarded by the feeling of accomplishment....not a video game.

I worked all the way through college. My parents paid my first year of tuition at a private school...and I lOVED that school...but I had to pay for everything else...and at 16, this was a stretch. The next year, when they said it was my responsibility...I had decisions to make. My social life took a hit. I had to work 3 nights a week and on the weekends. Eventually, I had to transfer to the state university. But I never felt penalized. I never once said to my parents "hey, no fair". My older brother earned a full-scholarship to FSU in basketball. They bought him a Z-28 Camero to take with him. I was thrilled for him. He had worked hard to earn it...and I thought he deserved it.

I came from a generation that understood that you don't buy L'Oreal because "I'm worth it". We didn't need constant validation...and we didn't get it. If my parents said "Good job", that meant something. I took pride in working hard. And don't get me wrong, I always enjoyed the financial rewards...and I certainly made my share of decisions based on that....but I never minded putting in the work.

I wonder how all of the celebrity/reality mentality will affect our kids. Will they become immune to what it means to be recognized because of true hard work and excellence...and not just because you were on a show for 10 minutes? Will they realize that falling in love is probably something that is best not done on camera? Will they realize that fame means nothing, but character means everything? I don't know.

Don't get me wrong. I love American Idol as much as the next person. I automatically throw a pack of baseball cards in the buggy for The Boy just for fun. The fact that Little One 'needs' Converse in several colors doesn't phase me. I contribute to the "downfall" on every level. But at least I know it...

Until tomorrow, when I will try and climb down from my high horse....

Love is Just a Word Until Someone Comes Along and Gives it Meaning

One of my best friends got married on Sunday. In a small, lovely city called Lille, in France. With a very small, what she would call "intime" group of family and friends there to witness it. I wish I could have been there. She knew it was coming...knew they were going to do it ....but due to work, children, and all of the intricasies of life...she just did not know exactly when. When I opened the picture she sent me yesterday, my heart leapt just a little bit. The joy on her face was touching. I have known her for 25 years, and I know by now that the look on her face was a long time coming. After a long difficult first marriage, a leveling divorce, and a few years of lonely times, a certain cynicism had crept in. The kind that prevents you from believing that somewhere down the road, good things can still happen.



I sat at a cafe in Paris with her a little over a year ago and cried with her. Life was literally knocking her for a loop. A divorce that should have concluded was dragging on and on. An ex-husband was behaving badly. He and I had never quite seen eye to eye on much (seeing as how he was the definitive french male chauvinist), but I had expected better of him. Her children had 'chosen sides', and she didn't want sides. Her pain was palpable, but at the time, all I could do was listen...and encourage....and remind her that we never know what tomorrow brings.We walked the streets of Paris, looked at at lot of art work...and she enjoyed spending time with my second generation of children. She had helped me raise the older two...and somehow, being around Little One and The Boy gave her hope. She is The Boy's godmother, and as different as they are, they forged a strong bond. Over many games of Uno and lots of chocolate mousse...he made her laugh. And she made him promise to hang a Van Gogh poster in his room and study french...and he has done both.



I have not met the wonderful "Francois" yet. In fact, I have heard little about him, because my friend is like me...she holds it all very close until she is sure. But I knew early on that this was 'it', whatever 'it' is. Because when someone who has been hurt very badly begins to smile and giggle...and once again see life as a good thing...you figure that 'it' must have happened.



And so today, I wish my friend love and happiness...and peace. Bon Mariage, Benedicte et Francois...et tout l'amour dans le monde...



Until tomorrow....

"Adornment is Never Anything Except a Reflection of the Heart." Coco Chanel

I had lunch with a few friends yesterday. This is not something I often do, but we all carpool our sons in the afternoon, and it seemed like a good idea to get together and chat. It's always good to get another mom's perspective on homework, how often baseball clothes need to be washed, and what to pack for the upcoming field trip to DC.



I had a few errands to run beforehand, so I decided to dress up a little bit. It was a New Year's resolution of sorts to start dressing up a little more. I noticed last year that when I put on something besides my jeans and tank top, The Husband would ask where I was going. This told me that I might need to put a little more effort in to my appearance.



I have about 6 minutes to get ready in the morning, if I am lucky, and I generally do this in as little light as possible in order to avoid disturbing The Husband, who is still in bed. This means I can brush my hair, put on some lip gloss...and if I am really being fancy, a bit of eyeliner. I always spray the perfume too...I have to do this...it must be my genetic link to my french ancestors, because I feel naked without it. That generally leaves 2 minutes for clothes. Now, the first thing I see in my closet are my old torn jeans that I generally wear at some time or other everyday. They are my "go to" piece of clothing. The problem with those jeans is that a shirt or t-shirt must be thrown on too. Last year, I left my pajama top on a few times, and of course, those were the days in drop-off line at school that someone would walk up and say hello. See, school drop-off line fools you a bit. You think you can get by with the TV announcer trick of wearing a decent shirt with sweatpants or gym shorts.....because you know, everyone only sees you from the waist up...but you cannot get sucked into this thinking, because just when you do, a teacher will call out to you, and you will be forced to get out of your car and reveal the fact that you are wearing a blazer over your sweatpants.



The moms I lunched with commented on the fact that they have seen me wearing heels in the morning. This is true. But the fact is, I have only 3 choices in my shoe wardrobe...tennis shoes, heels or boots. I just don't do flat heels, and I only wear tennis shoes with my sweatpants. (This rule was drummed into me by my best friend in Paris who declared the American woman habit of wearing tennis shoes with anything but workout gear as "gauche")



It's so easy for men...you put on the suit or the khaki pants and dress shirt....and you are good to go. But for women, there are so many choices. And you know, just one more way to express yourself...and be judged for it.



Here is the thing. I like clothes. I like to look nice. No crime in that, right? I don't care what anybody else is wearing. I assume that most people are just trying to be comfortable or appropriate. But I spent several years watching people put together different "looks" for me to wear on a runway or in an ad...and I enjoyed it. It's a creative outlet. The other thing is...and this is probably something psychological that needs to be discussed in therapy...for the last several years of her life, my mom stopped putting a lot of care into her appearance. Especially after my father died. She just gave up. And this broke my heart. So sometimes, when I look in the mirror and I haven't tried very hard....it makes me so sad.



So today, I'm going to remember that what I wear is not always based only on function. Sometimes, it feels good to look in to the mirror and feel like those 6 minutes in the morning were put to good use...



Until tomorrow...

"I think the thing to do is enjoy the ride while you're on it." Johnny Depp

I'm on the last stages of a painting for a friend. I've gone through the various stages that I usually go through when painting...love, hate, disgust, hope...and finally, content. When I walk by it now, I enjoy it. The Boy says it is good. Little One stares at the photo and then the painting for several minutes and then gives a thumbs up. There are still corrections be made, but it's at the point that I know it can be accomplished. This is my favorite period. I will leave it up and do it slowly. This is when I get to enjoy the process.




Little One's school conference was this morning. She was full of nerves. Her grades were fine and she never gets in trouble, but there is just something about a teacher conference that puts fear in a 10 year old. As the conference went on, I could see Little One start to relax and...well, not enjoy herself, but realize everything was going to be ok. Her teacher made a few well-timed jokes and she actually laughed and talked a bit. When we left, she said "That wasn't so bad'.





I wish I had learned earlier in my life how to let go of the worry and enjoy things more. I grew up with a constant sense of worry and tension about how I was doing....at everything. Whether it was swimming or painting or school work or modeling....whatever...I was constantly second-guessing myself. I guess a little of this is ok...it drives you to be better. But unfortunately, you wake up years later and ask yourself why you couldn't have worried a little less...and enjoyed it a bit more...





So today, as Little One and I do whatever her little heart desires, I will remember...and try to get her to remember....to enjoy the ride. Time goes by so quickly, and in the end, what we will remember about something is not the outcome, but the experience. Whether it's a painting or a conference, it's nice to do do your best and be pleased with the outcome...but it's even nicer to enjoy the process...





Until tomorrow...

Don't Cry because It's Over. Smile Because it Happened. Dr. Seuss

The Boy was gone all weekend. What started out as a Friday night spend-the-night evolved into a full-fledged boys weekend. Late Friday, The Husband called and asked me to call The Boy at his friend's house to see if he wanted to go with another friend to their family farm after baseball practice the next day. Well, wait a minute. Didn't someone need to ask me first? After all, if truth be told, I hate it when The Boy spends the night away. The weekend is just not the same without him constantly asking for food and negotiating for more bedtime.



The Boy is my cheerleader. He is always worried about my comfort and my feelings. When he thinks someone has hurt me, he intercedes and either tackles me or jokes with me until I laugh. In other words, I like having him around for my own selfish reasons.



As I picked up the phone to call him at his friend's house. I was pretty sure he would decline the offer. The Boy is a home body, so I figured one night away would be enough for him. Uh, I was wrong. When I asked if he wanted to go....which I believe I phrased as "You don't want to go to.....do you?", he answered "Cool! Yeah. See ya." I hung up and stared at the phone. That would mean 2 days without him, 3 if you counted the fact that he and The Husband were going to the Hawks game Sunday which would really only leave him home long enough to do homework. I believe I actually teared up for a moment, but I quickly reminded myself to cut it out and loosen those apron strings. I grew up with 3 brothers, and I knew it was important to let The Boy do his thing. Nobody likes a "Momma's Boy"....well, except Momma.



The next morning, I was assigned the duty of taking Little One and BFF to play practice. They had spent the night together and were planning to spend the day...and another night together if only I would agree. After their practice, I suggested running by the baseball field to see The Boy. This did not go over well. I had to make several concessions in order to get them to agree. Another spend-the-night, a trip to the shoe store, s'mores for dinner....you get the picture. When they finally agreed, the rest of my day was already planned. Oh well, at least I would get to give The Boy a hug and kiss....



They were already on the field practicing when I got there. I sat up in the stands and watched awhile. The girls had made me agree to a half an hour...and it became increasingly clear that unless I planned on going out onto the field and chatting with him at first base...I was out of luck. I briefly considered doing this...but since The Husband was coaching, I could only imagine the lecture that might come from that. I tried to catch The Boy's eye...but it was just too hard from across the field. 30 minutes later, the girls literally yanked me out of the stands and demanded we head to the shoe store...



That night, as I made s'mores and debated with the girls who was prettier, Miley Cyrus or Selena Gomez, I missed The Boy. After asking The Husband for the hundredth time if he thought The Boy would be ok, he finally gave me the "get over it" look. Literally translated, this means "quit your sissy-girl whining and let me watch the basketball game". Of course, The Husband does not understand. He is not a mom. He is not prone to perpetual worrying. He doesn't sit around and come up with 454 ways that The Boy might get hurt. Nope, he just says "Let him be a boy".



Well, of course this was right. The next day, as I got out of the car to pick him up, it was all I could do not to embarrass him by throwing my arms around him. As he climbed in the car and handed me two days worth of dirty clothes, I told him I had missed him. He nodded and launched into a 15 minute description of 4 wheelers getting stuck in the mud and diving in a freezing lake. Such joy on his face. I sat and listened, happy that he had had so much fun , but a little amazed at how old he looked as he talked. I was proud of myself for restraining myself from trying to extract some kind of declaration of how he had missed home. It was clear that he hadn't given it a moment's thought...



A few hours later, I took him to meet The Husband so they could head off to the basketball game. As I climbed out of the car, he called me over to his window. I walked over and told him to have fun. " Kiss me pretty momma". Ok, so I had to fight some tears back. Letting go isn't always easy...



In a few weeks, he heads to Washington D.C. for a week on a class fieldtrip....This will require a lot of preparation on my part.....

This and That (After the Break)

I took a blog-break this week. I had something to do every morning that had me avoiding my computer. Wednesday morning I met a good friend for coffee. I am always amazed at the sheer number of subjects we can cover in a 2 hour period. We ordered our coffee from Starbucks, and two hours later, I still had half a cup left. This differs from my usual practice of finishing my cup between the drive-through and my house. I'm repeating a theme that I have visited in the blog many times before, but having a friend of this caliber is a true blessing in life. I met her on the steps of Little One's preschool 10 years ago, and we have been on the same wavelength ever since. When I have exciting news, I call her. When I have devastating news, I call her. And everything in between. I can always count on a kind, honest and supportive ear. We may not live near each anymore, but I always feel close to her nevertheless.

Last night, I came in from Little One's softball practice about 9:30. We had gone there straight from The Boy's game, so there was still dinner, bath and homework to do. I was tired and grumpy and pretty sure that I was going to miss my beloved Project Runway. The light on the answering machine was flashing , so I pushed play. I wished I hadn't. On it was a voice reminding me that I had volunteered to distribute art projects to all of the lower school rooms in the morning. Now I had volunteered for this months ago...and isn't that what always happens? You say yes long in advance and then ask yourself "What was I thinking?" Anyway, I psyched myself into "positive mode", and a very nice co-volunteer and myself miraculously completed the project in a couple of hours.

I started a new workout routine this week. After taking a few months off due to the heart issues, I decided it was time to start back. I pulled out one of my old Cindy Crawford videos which was always guaranteed to bring results in a few weeks. I started it on Tuesday morning, proud of myself for getting through part of it. It had always been difficult, so I had cut myself a bit of slack. By Wednesday morning, I was in pain. I could barely walk up the stairs to wake the kids for school. Each step was torture. I gave myself a day off, but this morning after the volunteer duty, I was determined to try it again. I made it a little longer this time, but not without some major groaning. As you get older, your head tells you you can do anything you want, but your body sometimes disagrees. I'm hoping I will eventually accomplish the whole tape...

The Boy is spending the night with a friend tonight. Little One and BFF are upstairs doing each other's hair. The Husband has put in the most violent movie he owns, so I'm content on this Friday night to retire to the bedroom and watch the episode of Project Runway that I missed...

Thank goodness the weekend is here...

Only Those With a Strong Stomach Need Read...

We spent the last weekend of Spring Break at Grandma's house, always a joy for me. I enjoyed the peace and quiet, but this was interrrupted by a minor 'crisis'. I ran to the store to grab a few items, and when I returned, I was met at the door by both The Boy and Little One. This is never a good sign. Little one immediately told me that "something really bad" had happened, while The Boy stood by with a helpless look on his face. I was led to the back bathroom which they share, only to discover that the toilet had over-flowed. Now, this really doesn't describe the scene. When I say overflowed...I mean flooded the entire bathroom...

I'll admit my first reaction was not a good one, but in the end...this sort of thing is really nobody's fault, so I regained control. My first decision was what to "go in" with. I needed the sort of get up that you imagine people wearing into a nuclear plant...boots, space suit, bubble mask, etc. But these were not available...so I settled on high-heeled boots, gym shorts and grungy t-shirt. I sent The Boy away, knowing that the overwhelming mess and smell would only make him sick. But Little One stood by, waiting to help like a trooper. I waded over to the toilet, only to find that The Boy had made an effort to "plunge" with a broken plunger. I quickly sent Little One on a reconnaisence search for another plunger....and she found one. Next, I plunged for several minutes, and just when I was about to give up, I heard that lovely gulping sound....and thankfully, everything went down.

Next, I surveyed the area and charted my course. First I threw down several towels. This barely put a dent in things, but after Little One rolled them up and delivered them to the washer, things began to improve. I sprayed the entire room with Lysol, and began the herculean task of wiping up. You know how when you see someone throw up, you feel like doing the same...well, now you know how I felt. But half an hour later, that bathroom was sparkling clean. Little One and I shook hands and admired our work. The Boy shook his head in disbelief...a miracle had occurred....

When we got home last night, The Boy went up for his shower. As The Husband and I were chatting in the den, we heard a strange sound in the kitchen. We sprinted in just in time to see a stream of water pouring from a light in the ceiling. The Poor Boy...he had once again inadvertently caused an issue. When I ran up and told him to turn off the water, he exclaimed "This was not my fault!" Well, of course not. These things happen....and usually in 3's....

So today, I am going to hold my breath and hope that the third thing was the smoke alarm battery dying at 4:00 this morning....

Until tomorrow....

Time to go Home

It's always a little sad when leaving day arrives. Though it's been a wonderful week, it's hard not to feel that "just one more day' feeling this morning. It's lovely and sunny, and I can think of a million things I'd like to do...but it's time to go home.

Usually I dread the clean up/pack routine, but I don't know if it was the lack of pets or what...but there doesn't seem to be much to clean. The Boy never even pulled his sheets back all week...just slept on top. Little One was her usual neat self...even The Husband kept the clutter to a minimum. As far as packing goes, there is always the fact that I didn't get to bring a suitcase that makes packing a bit easier...

I cannot figure out why I didn't get more reading accomplished this time. I brought 5 new books, yet I barely finished one. I did do a lot of thinking and a little working out. I also made my way through several magazines...but still, I figured I'd get through 2 or 3. The book I finished was entitled "The Happiness Project"....a very interesting read. The author undertook a year's project of figuring out how to be a happier person...not because she was depressed or anything...but as a wife and mother of 2 and a full-time writer, she felt herself spending too much time in 'mean and unsatisfied' mode. The book is an exploration into how she managed to change her attitudes and actions. It was very interesting...with some very worthwhile assignments. I'll be trying out my own version of the 'Happiness Project" in weeks to come...

So until tomorrow, when we will be home, and Spring Break is officially over...

On Figuring Out the Blog...

As hoped, the beach has given me time to figure out what to do about the blog. Or maybe it was my best friend, who said to me "It doesn't have to be all black and white." She's right. I forget that sometimes. There can be some gray area in life, although that is dificult for someone like me who grew up with lots of black and white. Anyway, enough of the analogies...

The blog will continue, but instead of the normal 23 minutes a day devoted to it, I will now set the egg timer for 15 minutes. The other 8 minutes will be spent on a new blog totally devoted to fashion. Don't worry. Only those whose heart skipped a beat at that news will be exposed to it. In fact, they are already receiving it. Those of you who skip the blog when the title has anything like "fashion" in it can now rest easy. I will no longer bore you with this. This truly excites me because I am always hesitant to write about it, dreading the comments that inevitably come...Now I can be free to research and write about what I truly love in the new one...yet continue this one also.

The continuation of this blog will also be less pressure, because as stated last week, I have completed the year worth of blogging. I will be editing that year and turning it into a best-selling book entitled "My Year in the Blog". Look for it on your bookstore shelves in, oh, say a couple of years. When I go back and read the beginning of the blog, I see that I really did not find my true "voice" for several weeks. Therefore, there is much editing to be done. I'm considering doing my own illustrations too, which may tag on another year's worth of work.

For those of you who are reading the fashion blog (http://www.robyn-lafemmechic.blogspot.com), please be patient. It will take me awhile to find the right balance of information and opinion. This may take time....

So until tomorrow, because the timer has just gone off, and I need to get out on the beach...

It's a Boy!

Ok, quite honestly, it is harder to blog when things are going well. The Big News of the day is that Big Sis is having a....BOY! Congrats to the SIL who has already planned his sports career. I will be calling him Riley regardless of what name they choose....I will, of course, do this in private.

Had a lovely walk on the beach this morning with The Husband while The Boy and Little One slept. We had about 5 minutes of meaningful conversation before his work calls began, which actually worked out fine, since I was in quiet mode.

Unfortunately, the family in the condo below us who pays for wifi has left...so we were stuck without internet today. This became good news for me when The Husband said we would be going to the bookstore. I never mind that trip. Little One immediately planned her stuffed animal of choice....and The Boy was happy to know that he would have uninterrupted facebook and MLB draft time. Since there is a Target next door, Little One and I had to once again see if they had any different stuff...which they did. The Husband could not say anything since he and The Boy were loaded down with baseball cards. Little One and I spent a good hour coming up with names for the new stuffed doggie. 75% of her stuffed animals are named 'Butterscotch' or "Amy'...so i always lobby for something different. Today I won, and we agreed upon 'Caramel'.

We did come up with tentative summer plans. I once again asked for Paris, and Little One agreed. The guys vetoed it once again, so Little One and I will plan this trip on our own. We'll see if Big Sis, Senior and Niece want to come. Instead, it was decided that we will do Texas this year. The Husband loves Austin, and he even owns some land somewhere around there. This sounds good to me, especially since we will probably hit a Texas Rangers game. I love to plan trips, so this gives me something to look forward to. I believe I heard the word "fly" too, which means I will at least get a carry-on bag....

So until tomorrow, with a few more days of sunshine and beach to come....

This and That at the Beach...

Poor Little One. She woke up in the night not feeling well. I'm not sure if it is some kind of stomach bug, or the over-abundance of beef jerky that she consumed yesterday. All I know is, she looks exhausted and has nothing left in her stomach...

Big Sis and SIL have to go home today. Tomorrow is the big day...they will find out Boy or Girl. We are all kind of betting Girl...but this is based on very little anything. Big Sis is still in the stage where something sounds good, but as soon as she starts to eat it, it doesn't anymore. ( She promises this has nothing to do with my cooking...)

Yesterday, we split up into Boy/Girl activities. We girls went to get our nails done, and the boys went to the ball field. After our nails were dry, Big Sis, Little One and myself scooted over to Target, because you know, it is always imperative to see if this Target has the same stuff as the one at home. We roamed the aisles for awhile, and suddenly my phone rang. It was The Husband. "We're at Target. Do you need anything?" .......Suddenly I heard The Boy. I looked up and saw them over at the register. Now, here is one of the mysteries on life. Their cart was full of baseball cards, video games and cokes. Our cart was full of costume jewelry, sunglasses and lip gloss...

I've been poking fun at The Husbnad the last few days, so today, I am going to thank him for something. Sound the trumpets...Last night, I put in my new video called "The September Issue". This is sort of a documentary on the workings of Vogue magazine. If you saw 'The Devil Wears Prada', , well, this is the real life version, concentrating on the life of Anna Wintour, the editor. I have been looking forward to watching it all week. Now Big Sis and SIL tried to watch it, but unfortunately, their PBS show 'Kel On Earth" was on. (Ok, not a PBS show). The Boy asked about 3 questions about it, but when he realized there was no violence, he grabbed his DS and left the room. Little One watched for 30 seconds and then went to watch Hannah Montanna. But The Husband...he not only watched it, but he listened to my running narrative, asked questions...and pretended to care. This totally forgives the lack of suitcase space and the 'No offense" comment. I really enjoyed it....and I appreciated the effort....

So today, I'm sorry to see Big Sis go, but excited to hear her news. It's another beautiful day here at the beach. I have a lot to be thankful for...

On 'No Offense' and Other Sweet Phrases....

I am not a fabulous cook. This is a well-established fact in my family. I am really not even defensive about it. I do the best I can given the little time and lack of talent I posses in this area. Between work, school, sports practices, dance classes...and the fact that The Husband just plain likes to eat out...I think I do ok. I have a few no-fail meals that always make everyone happy, and in the last few years, my holiday meals, taken directly from food Network recipes, have been big hits. Even Big Sis said " I have recently begun to enjoy your meals".....Wow, thanks for that...

Now given this preface, let me also say that the last few years, whenever we go to the beach. I bring some new recipes along and try to be creative. Last year, I made delicious meatball sandwiches for New Years. They were such a big hit that The Husband copied them at Thanksgiving and overshadowed my sub-par turkey. I also tackled a new chicken dish over the summer which met with approval. This trip, I decided to bring along the recipe for Applebee's baby back ribs. The Boy loves these and I thought I would surprise him. The first morning here, I was making a grocery list for The Husband. As I was explaining my list to him, he said..in front of everyone...."No offense Hon, but let's don't get too ambitious". This was of course done with a wink to the SIL, who made a valiant effort not to double over in laughter, but failed. Now here is my problem with that statement:

Never start a sentence with "No Offense, but".......It does not soften the blow one single bit. It only says "Get ready to be insulted." It means that you know what you are about to say is mean, so you are going to make a pathetic attempt to somehow sound like it pains you to have to say it.

Last night during the Oscars, Big Sis and I were discussing the possibility of me dying my hair a shade of red, a la Julianne Moore. Forgetting who she was dealing with, Big Sis said to The Husband "Hey, don't you think mom's hair would be pretty that color of red?" Well come on. We all knew what was coming. He looked up from his computer screen and glanced at the TV and then at me...he then paused and waited for a particular poorly groomed man to appear, and he replied "It would look as good as me doing my hair like that." The he looked at me and said "No offense, Hon".

The Husband uses this phrase often. He feels it allows him to say anything. It is like my mom felt about the phrase "Bless her heart". This was her catch all phrase for "She looks terrible, but I'll just tag on 'bless her heart' so it doesn't sound so mean." The Boy has taken to using it, too. But he uses it a little differently. He tags it on to the end of a disrespectful comment that he feels sure has cost him some bedtime. Something like "That just sucks Mom!....No offense". I blame The Husband for role modeling this behavior.

I believe there are no magic erasers in speech. You can't say something mean and then say "Just kidding". The damage is done. So for the remainder of this trip, we will be eating out. Since I was not allowed to bring a suitcase of clothes, I have nothing appropriate for anything nicer than 'WhatABurger'. This suits The Husband and The Boy just fine....In fact, it may have been the plan....

No offense....

And the Oscar Goes To....

We weren't going to watch the Oscars last night. Everyone was doing their own thing. The Husband and The Boy were watching a basketball game. Big Sis and Little One were watching a dancing show. SIL was doing homework. I was in the workout room pretending to workout, but actually just staring at the ocean. But by 11:00 last night, we were all piled on the bed in our bedroom watching and commenting. This is especially humorous with The Husband and SIL throwing their sarcastic comments back and forth...sprinkled with a few random observations from The Boy.



Anyway, a few quick thoughts:



1) Loved Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin co-hosting. The shot of them backstage in the double snuggie was hilarious.



2) The pre-show Red Carpet talk with Ryan Seacrest was mind-numbing. I love to see the dresses, but Ryan needs to 'take it down a notch'.



3) We all cheered when Sandra Bullock won. Loved her in the Blind Side and The Proposal. She looked absolutely gorgeous. We also thought her acceptance speech was sincere.



4) You know I have to comment on the best dresses. I LOVED Sarah Jessica Parker's gown. I felt it was the most fashion-worthy. The Husband said she looked like the Statue of Liberty. Big Sis hated the dress but could "see you wearing it".....wasn't quite sure how to take that, but chose to take it as a compliment.

I didn't love the Chanel that Charlize Theron wore. I thought the strategically-placed flowers were odd. But she is still a lovely woman. Big Sis loved Maggie Gyllenhal's dress, and I agreed...she looked very fresh and pretty. I felt Meryl Streep's gown was too matronly. Last year, she looked 10 years younger. Helen Miren continues to make 60-something look sexy. Michell Pfieffer looked exquisite. She continues to be the "hope" for anyone who is trying to age naturally. I thought her red dress was elegant, yet sexy. I hated Barbara Stiesand's look. She normally wears some sort of drapey Donna Karan that flatters, but I just didn't care for this one.

5) Now for the men.....Ryan Reynolds looked handsome, as usual. George Clooney needed a haircut. (Would it sound really awful to say that this aging bachelor look of interchangeable beautiful dates by his side is getting old? I'm starting to feel sad for him.) Colin Firth is so adorable, but I thought he needed a haircut , too. Colin Ferrel looked sober and handsome. Jeff Bridges looked like Jeff Bridges. I used to have such a crush on him back in the 'Starman' and 'Mirror Has Two Faces' days. I was SO happy he won. He just oozes niceness.

6) The Boy uses two words to describe the gowns..."ooh lala", which means they are revealing....or "gross"...which I have yet to translate.

7) I was glad that 'Avatar' didn't win. I didn't see it, but I always root for the underdog...and i have never forgiven James Cameron for his corny yet arrogant proclamation of "I'm King of the World" when he won for "Titanic"........Is there any poetic license in the fact that his ex-wife won for Best Picture?

All and all a nice evening. Not sure what's on TV tonight...too bad 'The Bachelor" is over..I''m sure The Husband and the SIL would have had some choice comments...

So until tomorrow, when the subject will be how The Husband needs to learn that if he starts a sentence with "No offense, but...", it probably doesn't need to be said.....

On Figuring Out What We Are Taking to the Beach

The beach departure has been delayed a day for many reasons. Between work, baseball and play rehearsal, it just made more sense to wait until tomorrow. I think I actually relaxed a bit upon hearing this news. I wasn't totally packed, and this allowed me to take my time.


The Husband came through this morning and switched keys with me. He said he needed to take my car. When I asked him why, he pretended not to hear me. When pressed, he said "I need to see if something will fit in it." Uh oh. If you happen to read about the last beach trip over the holidays, you'll understand why my stomach flip-flopped a bit. I chose, however, not to pursue the subject. Sometimes I find with The Husband that less knowledge is the way to go...

I chose to focus on the good news. We aren't taking the big white moving truck. This means I can actually drive at the beach. This means whenever we go out to eat, we don't have to park diagonally in the back of every parking lot. This means restaurants do not have to be chosen according to the size of their parking lot....Very exciting...

The Boy has done his packing. This means he has his psp, his wii and his computer. Not one thought given to clothes or anything else. The orange gym shorts and gray t-shirt he is wearing tonight will be worn day and night for the next 7 days unless I step in. Little One has also accomplished her packing. She did throw in some clothes...but you know, there is not much room left after you first pack 27 of your favorite stuffed animals...

The Husband left his packing up to me. This makes me nervous since I normally forget something...When I finally got around to pulling out my suitcase, the Husband asked if I really needed one that big? This once again made my stomach flip-flop. Why on earth would it matter if I take a big suitcase?....We aren't taking animals or tile or extra workers...or any of the other things he has slipped in on previous trips. He promised...just us. So I stood my ground and packed my bag.

The weather is probably not going to be good for lying on the beach or sunning on the balcony...but I don't care. I packed like it was. After all the winter weather the last few weeks. I need to at least act like it will be warm. Of course, in addition to the bathing suit and t-shirts, I did stick in my boots and winter coat. Might as well cover all of my bases.

When I heard The Husband pull in this evening, I debated on whether or not I should go look in my car. After all, it was out of my control. Why spoil a perfectly good evening? Why not wait until morning? Why...because I had to know. I walked out into the garage and looked in my car....And there it was...the whole trunk was filled with a gigantic ottoman. Evidently it needed to go in one of the rental units. None of the suitcases were even in the car, and it was already full. "It'll all fit" he said as I stared......And listen, I have no doubt that he will make it all fit. We will be packed tighter than a can of sardines, but it will all fit....The good news is, I doubt the ottoman is heavy enough to cause the tires to blow....

So off we go tomorrow. I am hoping for a peaceful and restful trip, but I don't quite believe it. I'll keep you posted...

On Saying What You Mean, and Meaning What You Say...

I was watching one of my favorite shows, 'The Good Wife", the other night, and I was struck by one of the lines. "Complicated relationships are breeding grounds for miscommunication." I repeated this line over and over to myself a few times, and then I pulled out my notebook where I write down things that I want to remember and scribbled it down. I wasn't sure why it felt so relevant to me, but something about it registered.


I think I am an honest person. I consider the truth a necesssity and constantly repeat this to my kids. Few things will upset me more than being lied to. I find myself sometimes sighing in response to something someone says, not really wanting to be honest...but I think that I usually am. The problem is, I am a people-pleaser. I detest that part of my personality. Maybe it stems from being the middle child, but I hate confrontation. It literally makes me sick. But this is a problem when you also value the truth, because sometimes the truth takes a fight.


The Husband is painfully blunt. There is no skirting an issue, no softening the blow...he shoots from the hip and makes the point. This was a trait I valued when I first met him. There is a comfort in always knowing where you stand with someone. But therein lies the complication...if someone is brutally honest...someone else can be brutally hurt. At the end of the day, I suppose honesty overrules tact, if one is forced to choose....but finding the fine line between honest and hurtful can be a tough call.

I hate for people to be hurt. When I was growing up, if I sensed an argument arising in the household, I sprung into action. It was my responsibility to fix anything. My mom was a General of sorts...she never met an opinion she didn't have. This was somehow painful to me sometimes. I felt it was my responsibilty to defend whatever or whomever she was criticizing. It is amazing how much this colored my personality. The Husband would probably label this as my most annoying habit. The necessity to defend whomever or whatever at any given time...even if I don't really believe it. It is a shotgun reaction....


I have a small group of friends with whom I feel comfortable 'letting things fly'. If I try to pinpoint what allows this, I can come up with a few reasons. Time and history are probably the first. I suppose because trust takes time to build....it takes me a minimum of a year or two to begin to feel a comfort level with people. If I reveal something to you...and you hold it and value it....then I can move forward. I don't consider this a right or wrong thing. I think it must be very freeing to be a person who totally opens themselves up to people immediately. It takes a certain self-comfort to be able to do that.


If bluntness is a complication...then it is exacerbated by e-mail or texting. They are such odd forms of communication. You talk with someone without seeing them...without gauging their reaction...without seeing their face or body language. I can be very flippant in an e-mail. I can also be very brave. When you know you can say something without immediate response, it somehow emboldens you. I'm not sure if this is good or bad. And it works both ways, doesn't it? Have you ever read an e-mail and been totally hurt or insulted...only to find out later that it was meant in another way...that you misread the tone? Do you ever go back and read something you wrote and cringe? Maybe that is just a function of being overly self-edited.


The blog is an interesting way of expressing myself. The Husband has pointed out the irony of being a private person, yet giving daily details of my life. But the fact is, when I write, I am talking to myself. I don't see the reader. And most of the readers are strangers to me. I won't have to face them tomorrow or explain myself, unless I want to. For those readers who know me and read it, I guess I figure that the blog is somehow sacred. You know, just because I write about it doesn't mean it is open for discussion....


Complicated relationships are just that....complicated. And if you have children, you are always self-editing and self-monitoring...because your relationships are the models for their relationships. It takes a real effort to say what you mean, AND mean what you say.....


So until tomorrow, when I may read this back and wonder...The beauty of the blog is that there is always the delete button...

Spring Break

It's hard to believe Spring Break is almost here. Yesterday it snowed and today there was still ice. I'm thankful to be heading to the beach this weekend. The weather may not be warm, but I am determined to lie on the beach and read. I may have to wear sweats over my bathing suit, but that's fine with me. I'm armed with several new books and magazines which I have hidden from myself so that there is no temptation to start them before we leave.


The Husband has promised me a peaceful trip. No flat tires, no white trucks, no sick animals....I believe that was the doctor's prescription. Of course the full prescription was a solo trip to Maui, but that will have to wait. As usual, despite my best intentions, no packing has been done. Well, I take that back. I've done 'mental packing', which means I have visualized what I want to bring...but no suitcases have been retrieved and no clothes have been laid out. No matter how many times I tell myself that I will do a little each day...this never seems to happen. So tomorrow will have to be devoted to preparations. Newspapers have to stopped, cats have to be boarded, clothes have to be washed.....Vacation can be a lot of work....


The kids view Spring Break as a break from early-rising and homework (so do I). They love the easy ebb and flow of our days at the beach. They also look forward to spending time with Big Sis and the BIL who will be with us for a few days. This seemed to deter their constant requests for bringing friends along. This means the Big Sis will spend a lot of time in the pool with Little One and the BIL will be playing the Wii...a lot...



The favorite restaurant at the beach is now closed...as is the favorite place to shop, so this trip will have to be a sort of "start over" of sorts. New favorites will have to be found. It's the story of life isn't it?...closings and openings, beginnings and endings...which leads me to say that...

This week I will examine the relevance of the blog. It has actually gone on past it's expiration date. The question is, does it still have a shelf-life? I could go on with these metaphors all day long, but in the end, I have to determine if the 23 minutes a day dedicated to this 'diary' is still worth it. Last year during a writers conference, it was suggested to me by a respected editor that I should blog for a year, edit it, and then turn it in to a book. So here I am a year later...I have the material, I'm ready to edit. But the thought of giving it up completely is disconcerting. I have a group of cyber-friends that I depend on for daily ego-feedback. I have a small group of family and friends who enjoy the updates. There are days that I feel I have nothing left to say...but there are also days that I can't wait to get something down in writing. When you write an article for a paper or magazine...there are so many constraints. Here, there are very few....

So sometime during vacation, I will decide whether this "New Year" of sorts should be a rebirth of something new, a continuation of the same...or an ending...

Until tomorrow....

In Defense of the Spring Fashion Shows from a Non-New Yorker

As we all keep our fingers crossed, hoping that the slight bit of upturn in the economy is the true light at the end of the tunnel, it is interesting to review the shows from New York fashion week. This time last year, many designers chose not to show, feeling like it was somehow un-chic and irrelevant to show an interest in fashion while people were losing their houses. Hermes and Tiffany's actually had customers requesting brown bags for their purchases instead of the customary blue and orange gift boxes that were normally carried with a sense of show and pride.



While there might be a bit of validity to this point, the fact is, fashion has always gotten a bad rap. The New York shows always garner a bit of head-shaking from the rest of the country this time of year, with many questioning how the over-the-top designs and prices really factor into the life of the average person. If you saw the movie 'The Devil Wears Prada', you'll remember that Meryl Streep's character Miranda (based on the real-life Vogue editor Anna Wintour) gave a scathing explanation of this to her new and skeptical assistant. The explanation was based on the trickle-down theory...that what you saw the last few weeks at the fashion shows in New York will eventually end up in some translated or watered-down version in your local mall.



For those of us who enjoy fashion and live outside of New York, there is always some editing and play-down that goes on. Let's face it, most people consider it somehow shallow and silly to put so much emphasis on what one wears. But the fact is, fashion, like sports or art....or any hobby, is just an interest. It isn't a reflection of over-spending, because the most fashionable people are able to accomplish this with very little. It is more matter of smart editing and a little research...So with that being said, to those of you who live it and breath it....who feel your heart skip a beat when you see the new Vogue in your mailbox...here we go....



This year, the designers have returned to their roots. Last year's attempt to play down anything expensive and luxurious has passed. The focus on timelessness and quality was emphasized at most shows. At Dolce & Gabbana, the backdrop to the runway show was a film highlighting the seamstresses and tailors who labored over the clothing at the Milan showroom, a subtle reminder that quality takes effort...and high prices come with a reason.



From Marni to Bottega Veneta to Fendi, there was restraint, but also luxury. Italian houses Cavalli and Ferragamo, boosted by double-digit growth in their stores in the first two months of the year, didn't play down anything, choosing instead to work with high-end mix materials like leather and fur.

Glenda Bailey, Editor-in-Chief for Bazaar magazine, once again gave her Top 5 trends to Saks customers, continuing the savy practice of telling the consumer what is "in", while at the same time giving them the opportunity to 'shop it' immediately. The following are her observations:

1) There is a new romanticism this year...lace, ruffles and pearls. This one is already trickling down...from ruffled trenches and cardigans at JCrew...to faux pearls everywhere. Soft florals showed up at Diane Von Furstenberg's show, instead of her normal geometrics.
For those of us who aren't ruffle-prone, tread carefully here....a few ruffles go a long way...

2) Soft tailoring. Feminine tailoring. My favorite example of this is the drop-dead gorgeous Donna Karan gray 'suit' that you see in an advertisement on the back of every fashion magazine right now. The skirt is a pencil, but with a soft flow and movement. The jacket is brilliant, softly tailored with a tie....this is the opposite of the "power suit". This is the pretty, chic suit, and I absolutely love the soft gray....I hope to see this color trickle down....

3) Lots of color, from bolds to pastels.....I'm hesitant on this one, but this is totally personal. My closet is full of neutrals and black and white. My 'bold' colors tend toward gray, beige...with a bit of turquoise thrown in. But it is always nice to see color in the stores this time of year...

4) New Decoration.....Feathers, sequins, and shimmer. This one has already trickled down....Robert Cavalli, Marc Jacobs and Balmain were a few of the designers to do it on the runway....JCrew ran with it by creating sequinned tanks, dresses and skirts. I love a bit of it...but a little goes a very long way. Sequin head-to-toe never works.

5) Prints. Ok, so far, I haven't noticed major trickle down on this. A few printed shirts at JCrew...a few printed dresses here and there...but stay tuned...

I think the last year has done the opposite of what one might have expected. Instead of highlighting the inexpensive, cheaper offerings like H&M or Target...we seemed to have been reminded that the smarter move is to save...and save...and then splurge. A cashmere sweater might cost 3 times what one could pay for the trendier item...but it will still be in our closet 5 years from now. The knock-off designer lines at Target and H&M, while interesting and reasonably-priced, turned out to be a little disappointing, proving once again that there are no substitutes for well-cut clothes made from quality fabrics. It may look cute on the hanger...but once you try it on, it disappoints. And after one cleaning.....

In the end, fashion is always highly personal, based on taste and preference... and edited by price tag and boldness. For those of us who enjoy it, we read about it and then we try what we like. And it is always...whether you want to admit it or not...a way of expressing ourselves. And in these difficult times, it always brings a smile to my face to see a child in Haiti with a lavender bandanna tied around her head and earrings dangling, because this may not be a 'runway look'...but this is what makes us different and unique....

So until tomorrow, when it looks like the snow, and not the runway, will dictate what I will be wearing....

Now I Need You. Now I Don't....

In answer to all of the questions I got all weekend long about The Boy's middle school dance...no drama. I know, very disappointing. A bit of a let-down. I suppose after the first one, the bloom is off the rose, as it were. The Husband did the big "pick up" Friday night. I decided this might be a little "cooler" for The Boy since The Husband does not ask probing questions about the dance...he just makes inappropriate jokes which later reveal themselves in inappropriate circumstances. Anyway, a friend was getting a ride home with The Boy, and rather than subject them to mom's 20 questions, I was proud of myself for handing over this duty.

As I heard him come though the door, I ran with my camera, hoping to get a few shots since he had not been in the mood for it before he left. "No Mom!" he huffed at me. But then, a small smile appeared, and I took my opportunity. He refused to smile (so not cool), but I got my picture. I started in with the questions, but it was obvious he was tired and anxious to get this over with. "The girl's wore high-heeled shoes and I danced with .......(insert the name of 6 girls)." Then he pulled out his computer and logged on to his fantasy baseball draft. I looked at The Husband, who had also logged on to this draft...and he shrugged his shoulders. "Not much to tell." That was it? I waited all night for that? "I'm tired, mom." Well ok, it had been a busy week. basketball tournament, baseball practice every day, several exams...I guess he had the right to be tired. So I hushed, because I remember not wanting to play the 20 question game with my mom either. Sometimes you're tired...or sometimes it is just nobody's business...either way, I felt a little of a let down...

Little one was ready to take up the slack. She had been researching dogs all night long and had narrowed down her favorites to around 894...and she NEEDED me to take a look at all of them...

I guess this is how it goes. You get older, and you need mom a little less and less. I have been down this road a few times before, but it is different with girls. They still wanted to talk....and talk,,,,and talk......I guess I just thought I would have a little longer with The Boy...

The next morning, he woke up early to get ready for a baseball game. I was on my way out the door. "You'll be at the game, right mom?" I nodded. "Good". ..............Ok, I can deal with that. I'm not one for a lot of conversation anyway. Just a little hint every now and then that I'm still needed...

Sunday was the Tike's big birthday bash. 4 years old. He was adorable, precious...and well-behaved. Enough to make a Noni really, really proud. As I started to leave the party, he grabbed my leg and whispered "NOOO. You can't go yet! I need you to stay!".............Through teary eyes, I agreed to hang and play play dough a bit longer. The cycle of life, I suppose...one needs you less, and one needs you more.....

So until tomorrow, when only those with an obsessive love of fashion need bother. Tomorrow's blog will be a rough draft for a fashion article...so for many of you...see you Wednesday....