I get to live vicariously through yet one more entrepreneur.
I’m so thrilled for my husband, who is launching his own financial services office next week, but, I’ll be on the outside looking in.
We bought a desk and a chair and he’s in a giant office building, too.
One day I’ll have my bright idea, but until then, I will support him in reaching his dreams.
I haven’t really had the motivation or inspiration to write lately and essentially have been experiencing writer’s block, drought…whatever you want to call it.
But, I think I finally have something worth sharing.
A friend of mine just recently launched a new business this week - it’s called Smartie Pants Apparel – www.smartiepantsapparel.com – check it out. This isn’t an advertisement for them – ok, maybe a little one. But, I am just so proud and happy for them, and want them to succeed so badly, so I hope you pardon this plug.
I am extremely impressed that in this horrible, rancid (insert negative word here) economy, they had the wherewithal and vision to launch. And, I’m doing everything I can to help them survive – because I believe in them and what they are doing. And, I’m inspired by them, too.
The back story isn’t spectacular, and it’s been heard before. But they’re friends, so it matters to me. The husband has been recently laid off. They had their house on the market, and had to take it off, because of his job loss. They have two beautiful, bright little girls.
He’s an extremely personable, nice guy and I knew he would land on his feet – he even said he had a lot of offers. But, he decided he wanted to work for himself.
Many of you know that it’s a dream of mine to work for myself one day. I’m hoping I can think of something clever like them, and I hope my family and friends support me in making my dream a reality.
So, while my bright idea continues to elude me, I will live vicariously through my friend, and be inspired by him and hope you will be too.
To sum up: It was a strange, strange Chanukkah.
For those of you who are sick of my holiday rants, let me just say, I’m blaming this on Penelope. She rants every year and I think I’m not completely off base for wanting to add my own two cents. But I know you’re sick to death of hearing me complain, so just look away, because here it comes.
It began with the Chanukkah countdown.
S and D began counting down right around Thanksgiving. It was very cute – you’d think they won the lottery – because they couldn’t wait to open their presents. Mission accomplished, right? At this point, they were in love with Chanukkah.
And then the lights went up in the neighborhood. And it was the end of the love affair.
All I’ve heard from my Jewish Day School-enrolled kids is why everyone in the world celebrates Christmas and why they can’t have a Chanukkah tree like grandpa…hmmm.
So, I did my best – for the entire holiday – to outdo Christmas. We were neck-in-neck, too. Every night, with each present, Chanukkah scored. Every night, with every Christmas light, Chanukkah lost. Every day, with the Chanukkah channel on XM radio, Chanukkah won. Every night, with every Christmas light, Chanukkah lost. And, I was exhausted by the time we lit the last candle.
I know I can’t compete, but we try so hard to show them how wonderful the Jewish holidays are and why they should be proud to be Jewish, it just hurts when I hear them say they wish they could celebrate Christmas. I never felt left out when I was growing up, so I guess I don’t understand. Next year, I’ll have to up the ante. Or just lock them in their rooms for a month.
So, after a disturbing (off and on, off and on, again and again) and intrusive power outage at my office today, I was forced to go out to eat. The first place I went to had also lost power, so I had to try another restaurant. Luckily they had power…and an excellent manager on staff.
I had ordered my usual salad that I get (they probably know me by name at this point) and it came with a little something extra hanging out on the side of the plate. I don’t know how a dustball the size of a penny got onto my plate, but let’s just say it looked like it could’ve fought me for the delicious crusty roll. To his credit, the manager apologized and immediately remade the salad. As I was happily munching away on Version 2.0 of Yummy Greek Salad, he came over and gave me my money back! I was so impressed and surprised – it was a very nice gesture and totally made my day. Panera Bread hires great people and you should eat there today.
I wrote recently about my discomfort with Facebook’s ability to connect me with my past - with people I would rather not revisit. Well, my husband recently read me an article written by someone addressing that same subject – and I felt validated. Of course, Brian continued to berate me as to why I am uncomfortable reconnecting with people from my past.
We had a good long discussion about whether it’s ok to friend your exes – boyfriends, girlfriends, best friends, etc. He seemed to be ok with me friending ex-boyfriends - props to him – and I told him I was totally fine with him friending ex-girlfriends. Truly – I was so magnanimous - I just glowed.
And yet, I am still not comfortable with ex-boyfriends tracking me down. Something about ex-boyfriends who are married with kids tracking down ex-girlfriends to friend just seems kind of slimy and weird to me. Maybe it’s just me. So, I’m taking it to the street (all 3 of you who read this – thank you very much): If your husband or wife friended an ex on Facebook – would you be ok with it?
I read this really interesting hard-to-follow rambling book yesterday by Seth Godin – my all-time favorite marketing person, so far. He is brilliant and has a knack for stating the obvious in such a way that it makes you believe it is a new concept. He just puts his own insight around the idea and it seems like an amazing, thoughtful proclamation. This is not meant to be insulting in any way. I understand why he is so highly regarded. And, I have to admit, I drank the Seth Godin Kool-Aid. I eagerly await his next blog post. You should check it out for excellent insights.
He is also a prolific author. He has written many, many books. And they are highly acclaimed. And, yet, I am just not on board with his little book, the dip. It was a melange of too many ideas and rambled on in various directions, seemingly stating the same thing over and over. It was about knowing when to quit. I can’t help but wonder if he should have taken his own advice with this one.
I have never written a book and don’t even know where to begin, so I have the utmost respect for anyone who is published. I just find it amusing that he admitted it was hard to write a small book – at the end of the book - and yet, there it is.
Anyway, my point in this diatribe is not to knock my hero. I’m actually looking for recommendations for someone to read. Any suggestions?
So the time is drawing near when everyone gathers around the table for the traditional mind-numbing carb fest. Some people are doing it twice. I’ll be dining a la Disney. I’m finding myself outrageously excited at this prospect. I’m not sure if it’s because I get to stay in a hotel, or go away with the kids, or just escape from my life for three short, beauteous days…but I am so jacked.
Sophie and D are super excited, too, and they are at the best age to appreciate all that is Disney. I didn’t think I would be on board again – after doing this three years in a row – but I’m definitely counting down. Don’t get me wrong – I would much rather be poolside in the South of France sipping something deliciously alcoholic, but I’ll accept Disney as the substitute. For now.
So when you all have finished eating everything in sight, until you can’t breathe or move, think of me. I’ll be joyfully waiting in line for the Dumbo ride.
It seems that Facebook has become the conduit for my ex-boyfriends to find and friend me. So, if you don’t see me out there anymore, it’s because I have turned in my Facebook nametag….ok, ok, I’m not really off of Facebook. But I am becoming very friendly with the ignore button! It’s getting a little out of hand, for me.
Anyone else out there getting hunted down by ex’s? Ex-friends, lovers, boyfriends, girlfriends, bosses, co-workers?
My kids are really good at playing mind tricks. I think it’s standard in their genetics – they are simply born with it.
We went to a bowling birthday party this weekend. My kids like birthday parties and they like bowling, but I’m pretty sure the two should never mix. There were maybe 20 kids at this party – it was a big party – and somehow the kids on Doran’s lane managed to break the sweeper machine that sweeps the pins back in to be reset.
I don’t know if anyone has ever brought a 5 year-old bowling before, but they are not pros. They are lucky to get the ball to connect with the pins. It takes forever to get through a game – and when there are so many kids - it takes even longer.
So, they broke the machine. The guy had to open up the bowling ball machine (where the balls come back so you can bowl) and poke around in the floor! It was hilarious. That was a good 30-40 minutes of wasted bowling time – during which the kids stood around and picked fights with each other.
Naturally, my son bowls one time and gets bored waiting for his turn to come again. Sophie bowled 2 or 3 times and promptly dropped her bowling ball on her toe. Hysterics, ice and lots of drama – and she was out. So, I told the woman from the bowling alley to take their names out of the list of kids on the screen. Doran continues to whine to me about being bored, hungry, thirsty and tired. Sophie is all drama about her toe and we wait for pizza together. Pizza is served and the kids inhale the requisite 12 pieces. Then, the birthday boy’s parents tell everyone they can go finish bowling. Well, my kids *CHANGED THEIR MINDS* and decide they want to finish bowling with their friends.
And they got hysterical. There was no level of reasoning to bring them out of the whiny tailspin. They don’t get it. I try to explain to them that the woman took their names away because they told me they didn’t want to bowl anymore. They just didn’t get it. They couldn’t understand why they couldn’t bowl with their friends. I felt bad for them, but I also was extremely frustrated and annoyed. So I threatened to not let them have cake if they didn’t stop whining. That did it.
So yesterday Doran had an allergy test. This was the doctor visit to end all visits. Whatever that means. For me, it means we were there for three hours. And Doran was a champ. He went through it all without crying once. I’m so proud of him.
So how did we make it through three hours of tests, you ask? Mommy would have won the girl scout of the year award. I brought a coloring/activity book, some prizes, and a good attitude.
I know this sounds bad, but this is the most one-on-one time I’ve had with him lately. It seems like we’re always busy and can’t really relax and play together. I’ve got to work on that.
But my little champ had 30 or so needles (photo to come – oh yes, I took pictures) poking his arm (they numbed it for him) and he didn’t even flinch. He did giggle hysterically when they did the back test, though. Turns out he’s really ticklish on his back. What a day we had.
The revelation that he’s allergic to cats and cockroaches just about did me in, though. Now what am I going to feed him?
