Once Upon A Time There Was A Bear

The holidays are here and it’s time to hunker down and embrace the chaos. …work and the whirl of parties: school, family, and those pseudo work/networking opportunities. While most kids look forward to holiday books, my oldest daughter always wants the story about the almost-holiday mishap: yes, the time we thought it was an all-ages Open House. I should have turned around and walked out the door the minute the host said my daughter was always so fun to be around. 

All was going well, but adult parties don’t end at 8pm. By nine-ish conversation was lively and laughter filled the room but my daughter had grown bored …until she discovered little figurines which I imagined had come from some far off land during a great adventure. I learned that night that museum putty only holds down objects in the museum if the kids stay behind the red rope. As I spoke to another guest I caught my daughter successfully prying a figuring from the side table.   

“Put that down,” I said in the most pleasant voice but with pleading eyes. She just stared, the person I was speaking to waited patiently. But the tension only mounted because when time is up for a child, time is up. So again, I smiled pleasantly but spoke with stronger persuasion “We don’t touch other people’s things so put that down.” She hopped off the sofa and waved the object in front of me; tauntingly I thought. Looking directly at her I whispered again, “We don’t play with other people’s things, so let’s put it down.”

Suddenly, she happily galloped the tribal figurine across the glass table making just the kind of noise that can stop a host cold in her shoes. I strained to smile and knelt down to whisper through gritted teeth: “Read my lips!” That was it! She stopped immediately and turned with an enlightened grin.

Clapping my cheeks in her hands she squeezed tightly and pulled my face close to hers. “Oh what do I do now,” I thought.  Pulling my squished lips close to her eyes, she read out: “Once upon a time, there was a bear ….now let me read your cheeks.” Before I could respond, laughter erupted; more people than I thought had begun to wonder how I was going to wiggle out of this situation. I wasn’t, so I had to embrace it. The life of a three year old can be quite literal. 

Family and life take patience. Work takes practice. And the two together are chaotic perfection. Embrace the chaos, it’s all good.

 

I’m Thankful

I’m thankful for the day I spontaneously drove to the city to let a moth go because my daughter was afraid that it was going to be “sprayed.” We drove across the Golden Gate Bridge then played in the park till the fog rolled in; I can’t even remember what priority I let go of that day but we still talk about the moth we saved from the controversial spray scheduled for our neighborhood that year.

I’m thankful for the fly that came to dinner. Apparently he had suffered a broken wing and both my daughters had nursed him back to health only to have him escape from their room, leaving the ants still nibbling on the snacks they had put in the box for him. My husband was about to kill him at the table when they screamed out and confessed. The fly sat still hoping their efforts weren’t in vain. That Sunday night the table was full of laughter and everyone enjoyed a good meal.

And finally, I’m thankful for the Rainbow Fish, that famous children’s book about teaching friendship. The Rainbow Fish taught our four year old that anyone can give; it doesn’t take a checkbook to make a difference in someone’s life. When she wished that she too had scales to share, I mentioned that she could give her long hair as there are many kids who had lost their own to illness. My ten year-old, who frets over her long hair daily, immediately said let’s donate to “Locks of Love” so our hair could be made into wigs. The salon fit us in and everyone watched in shock and awe, wondering if we would go through with it. We did, and afterwards we put lip gloss on and ran around the center’s fountain tossing pennies with well wishes for the kids who would receive new wigs from our donation.

One of the greatest lessons in life is learning to celebrate what you have and then sharing what you have with others.  Happy Thanksgiving.

When Life Gets You By The Tail

Competition between siblings offers more than just a lesson in winning and losing: it’s the realization that success often times includes sacrifice.

On a recent hike to what we now call “Lizard Rock” my husband and older daughter, Avery, were on overdrive trying to catch the little prehistoric creatures sunning themselves on a lone boulder jutting out from the hillside. The lizards seemed drunk with sunshine but, to our surprise, proved adept at escaping the swift moves of both my husband and older daughter …not so swift when Callie, our younger daughter, just casually walked up and scooped one off the rock.

As we continued hiking, Avery seemed detached from the family and intent on her mission to seek out and catch the biggest lizard.  Near the end of the hike she spotted a rather robust lizard and began the prowl; unfortunately her sister saw the same one and the two gave chase. Their race to the rock ended with Avery overtly relishing the win over her sister.  But the thrill was short lived.

 “What’s that wiggling on the rock?” Callie asked. Avery, with blue-belly in her hand looked to the rock where the tail of the lizard lay wiggling. The mountain went quiet and I imagined every lizard, squirrel, deer, butterfly, and bird looking up with sympathetic anticipation as her wail shook us to the core.

“I’ve killed it,” Avery cried while looking at the motionless lizard in her hand.  “Put it down,” my husband said calmly. The lizard lay next to its tail for only a moment then dashed off. Avery sobbed while Callie begged to take the still wriggling tail home with her.

Avery realized in her zeal to out-catch her sister, even when her sister had no clue that they were competing, she had sacrificed another in order to come out the winner.  The tears streamed the entire ride home even as we explained that lizards use the tail-release as a defense mechanism and her little blue-belly would be okay. A few hours scrolling through sites finally calmed her and the day provided a great science and life lesson for our little nature-lover.

 

It’s All Good

Like so many kids, I was teased throughout childhood and even into adulthood. Not for being too fat or too skinny…I was teased for always being too nice, too giving, and the one most likely to be taken home to mom. A childhood friend once said I needed “b****” lessons.  A college friend once said “no one is ever that happy.”

The comments bothered me because it mocked what I liked to do and be in life. My mother always said things like “just kill them with kindness” and, at times, “you will do it and you will like it.” The latter quote was often given in a more stern voice but it resonates beyond childhood. Because there have been plenty of moments in my life that were not “happy.” No one likes to move away from friends. It’s not easy losing a parent or discovering your child has a medical condition. These are moments which have tested my philosophy but I still say I’m lucky and let’s pass around the lemonade.

If you choose to do what fits your interests and values, everything will fall into place.  Once your heart and your work are in alignment, all the adjustments within your home, finances or other areas of your life will start to fall into place and eventually will seem like they were always meant to be.

This value is not lost on my two girls. My oldest daughter fine tunes her revolutionary Pet Hospital Hotel business plan in an effort to keep families and ill pets together. She is growing up with a sense of empowerment to do something she loves because it has always been what she’s seen. And if my mom were here today she would say “Bravo! …That is a life well done.” 

Customer Service Meets Hot Lunch Duty

Anyone selling a product or setting up shop will tell you times are particularly tough when it comes to winning over customers these days. Customer service is more important than ever as I learned during my recent adventure into Hot Lunch duty.  

I was on active bagel, hardboiled egg, and yogurt parfait duty – the “fill” if you will for kids who did not take the main protein, starch or vegetable. Yes, just like a business “build it and they will come” …not so on this hot lunch duty day.  

I was in work-mode mindset so I was ready to deliver and close the deal on every plate that went by without the proper food groups represented. I had dutifully loaded all the cups with yogurt and filled them with granola “parfait.” But alas, the customers walked by without so much a look when I hollered out “hardboiled egg, bagel, yogurt parfait.”  

There’s nothing worse than watching a customer walk by especially when they are barely ten and holding a plate with an apple slice on it. I was confused at first; my section was laid out perfectly “well merchandised” and I looked as hip as any mom there. By the end of the first lunch shift I still had 50% of my inventory on the tray, and the lunch duty director was less than thrilled.  

I assessed my situation and remembered a few rules-of-thumb with customers: make it quick, convenient, and clear. I questioned what kid had time to crack, peel and eat an egg when there were dodge ball, 4-square, and volley ball to play during lunch. And did I really believe kids knew what “parfait” was?  

Second shift began and as the first child without the proper food groups represented came by, I said “Hi, would you like your vanilla yogurt with or without granola?” “With granola please,” she said. Most kids like granola but have no clue what parfait is. “Clear message,” check.  

I was ready for the next child without chicken on his plate, “Peeled and ready egg,” I asked. “Okay,” he said. “Here’s your bagel and cream cheese, and yogurt with granola?” “Without please,” he said. “Quick and convenient,” check.

 Lunch service was over and I had just one item left. I graciously offered a teacher walking through the lunch room, “Yogurt Parfait? …It’s low-fat and organic?” She smiled and accepted enthusiastically, “Absolutely.” 

 

Life, One Load at a Time

I saw a cartoon in the paper the other day featuring a mother reading her daughter the story of the princess who went off to work with the blessing of her husband …”and they lived happily ever after.” Of course, I clipped and posted it on the refrigerator as a daily reminder: the daily juggle is only calmed when there is mutual respect and admiration between working spouses and parents.

Respect for my husband went to a new level this past summer and if my husband were writing the blog this week it would be titled, “Pleasing Your Wife, One Load at a Time.” Literally, we have found our peace after months of chaotic transitions with my business and the “I’m busier than you” comparisons. It began when my husband exiled himself to the makeshift play/family/craft room …which conveniently houses the laundry machine and television. (cue “ding” and the light bulb going on).It began with just a load at the end of spring. Sure the TV was on and basketball season was well underway …but so was the laundry. I think my husband was nervous when I poked my head in to ask what he was doing while I was putting the kids off to bed – again – when I should have been finishing a presentation.

“Laundry,” he said nervously. “Hmmmm,” I thought.

It wasn’t until morning when I pulled out a perfectly folded and crisp white shirt that I started to see the light. I didn’t say anything …as I knew it would end with the season but then baseball season started. And the laundry continued. Nothing discolored, nothing shrunk, and everything folded neatly. During the Olympics, even our dog’s towels looked like fine linens.

I’ve actually never been very good at laundry and hate doing it so this was an amazing turn of events; my husband pleases me daily and the added bonus is that our daughters love to do crafts at the table while he folds. Greg explains great plays, players, teams, and the history of every sport he finds while surfing hundreds of channels on his DirecTV sports package. So the juggle of work and parenting continues but the chaos has calmed even as the laundry spins.

 

The Value of an Egg

So here we are, smack in the middle of an economic crisis: feeling on edge, even over the edge, and wondering what’s next. What’s going to happen to that nest egg? Everyone is feeling it and it’s easy to get caught up in placing value on what we have and don’t have. My daughter reminded me of this just the other day when she came in to talk about the conversation she overheard me and my husband having about work, the house, and the kitchen that I’m constantly wishing could have an update.

“I love the kitchen the way it is, please don’t change it” she said. I reminded her that it was still purple …the last room in the house to be painted because I wanted a new kitchen to cook in. “But this is where you taught me how to roll meatballs and make cookies, and where you taught my sister to crack an egg. My friends love this kitchen.”

I quieted, realizing she was right. The true value of our house should actually be measured by the values we instill in our family; our home and the carton of eggs my daughter pulls from the refrigerator each week so we can bake the “crazy chip” cookies she created when she was three and proudly exclaimed for the first time “no shells!” They are amazing, anyone who has tried them will agree. …And perhaps the carton of eggs in the fridge is our true nest egg.