Silicon Valley Moms Blog

Drawing the Line on Swag

I have a rule.  Whatever freebies I bring home from a conference must be used up, given away, or recycled by the time the next year’s conference rolls around.  All the good stuff gets enjoyed quickly, so there's no pretending that I’ll get around to trying the the remainders. That means I’ve got about three weeks left to clear out the BlogHer ’08 swag.

Looking through the swag bag, I’m realizing that I went nuts last summer and picked up too many things, lured by the siren call of FREE.

Why did I ever take the cheapo manicure kit?  Did I ever think I was going to have time to try the tooth whitener?  I will never get around to studying the Accounting Essentials pamphlet.  I will never send away for the free underwear.  I will never read the August 2008 issue of Redbook, aside from the article on inspiring bloggers. The Online Family Safety guide will be obsolete by the time my four year old is allowed to play on the computer unsupervised.

Would It Kill You To Apologize?

There’s pretty much an endless news cycle of politicians, radio show hosts, and minor celebrities issuing press releases to address the insensitive, rude or plain racist statements that they’ve been caught or “misquoted” saying.

The actors have mostly hired top PR firms and delivered beautifully crafted statements, such as Mel Gibson’s possibly sincere, but certainly well composed response to his anti-Semitic diatribe. “I want to apologise specifically to everyone in the Jewish community for (my) vitriolic and harmful words . . . I am a public person, and when I say something, either articulated and thought out, or blurted out in a moment of insanity, my words carry weight in the public arena. As a result, I must assume personal responsibility for my words and apologise directly to those who have been hurt and offended by those words.”

Jay Leno addressed his own gay-insensitive remarks with “I agree it was a dumb thing to say, and I apologize,” and even Don Imus managed to cough up the words “Want to take a moment to apologize for an insensitive and ill- conceived remark we made the other morning regarding the Rutgers women’s basketball team,” when he called them something inappropriate to reprint in a family blog.

What to Expect . . . and the Unexpected

I finally got around to pulling out What to Expect the First Year, the sequel to the notorious pregnancy guide, “What to FEAR When You’re Expecting” – I mean, What to Expect When You’re Expecting.  I flipped to the chapter appropriate to my son’s age – eleven months - and shamefully realized that the last time I opened the book was before he was born.  This is what happens when there’s also an active preschooler to chase around the house.

I read down the checklist and marked his progress (italics mine)

Baby should be able to get into a sitting position from stomach . . . and crawl at lighting speed towards the laptop sitting precariously on the coffee table.

Baby should be able to object if you try to take a toy away . . . at tornado-warning siren volumes.

Jedi Don’t Pick Their Noses, and Other Things I Never Thought I’d Say

I always planned on  speaking cheerful, positively constructed words of guidance to my children - never making “no” statements, but rather describing what actions they should take instead, making encouraging conversation, and never letting slip a snarky comment. That, of course, was before I became the mother of small boys.  Here are words I never thought would come out of my mouth.

10. Don’t lick that railing.
9. Don’t pick your nose.
8. Don’t lick your brother.
7. That bag is not a toy.
6. That’s a big poop.  Good job.
5. Bye-bye, poop.
4. If you lick that cookie, that’s the one you take.
3. Big boys don’t pick their noses.
2. Don’t lick anything.
1. Jedi don’t pick their noses.

Please tell me you’ve said worse.

This is an original post to Silicon Valley Moms Blog.  Monica writes about life, dance, and adventures with a toddler and newborn at Lady M. Her household is consumed by all things Star Wars.

The Teacher Gift Dilemma

Last year, I was spared the disgrace of neglecting my son’s preschool teachers at holiday time by another mom who kindly organized a group gift card.  She collected money, picked up the gift cards, and even wrote a cute note to enclose in each one.  As a first time school mom, December had crept up quickly, and I so grateful that someone else had her wits about her.

We’re at a new preschool this year and I don’t know the moms as well, so I knew I was on my own for holiday gifts.  What to do?  I wanted to express our appreciation for the three teachers’ hard work in making a happy learning environment, but not so much that it looked like a bribe for special treatment.  Something personal, yet professional. Homemade, so that it doesn’t cost a fortune?  But also not a knick-knack that would just collect dust or worse, go straight into the trash.

It’s the Kind of Diversity that Matters

I was reading a picture book to the baby this morning and after a few pages, noticed that the photographs of the children had been very carefully selected.  There were a pair of African-American girls with two ice cream cones, a Caucasian boy with three finger puppets, an Asian-American girl with four bells, a Caucasian girl with five telephones, and so on, all very cheerfully and professionally put together.

Someone took the time to gather models and props and make a plan to be inclusive.  Simply put, it makes sense to appeal to the whole audience of book buyers out there, and they did a good job.  In contrast, a “Baby Talk” book we were given for our older son hadn’t been planned so well.

The Peekaboo baby, the Yum-Yum baby, the Hee-Hee baby, the Mama! Baby, and the Night-Night baby were all blue-eyed blonds.  Guess which baby was African-American?  The Boo-Hoo baby.

Back to the drawing board.

This is an original post to Silicon Valley Moms Blog. Monica writes about life, dance, and adventures with a toddler and newborn at Lady M. Her reading list includes a lot of very short books these days.

Early Voter? Not Me

Another election, another procrastination.  I had the best intentions to finish evaluating all choices and popping that absentee ballot in the mail.  No need to haul the whole family to the polling place.  Well, between work and making a preschooler-sized Darth Maul Halloween costume, I didn’t quite get through the ballot.

I made up my mind on the big ticket candidates a long time ago, but the more obscure Propositions and Measures need a little more research.  There are some that I think can’t possibly make sense to anyone.  Once again, my husband and I will be comparing notes until the last day, when we’ll make the trek to the local high school.  At least our three year old already has a good opinion of voting.  “They give you stickers!”

Next time, I swear I’ll get the ballot done in time to mail.

This is an original post to Silicon Valley Moms Blog.  Monica writes about life, dance, and adventures with a toddler and newborn at Lady M. She has three more Measures and two more Propositions to read.

Steve Jobs Couldn’t Ask For a Better Pitchman

As far as preschooler bedtime routines go, ours is pretty average.  After the usual hygiene related activities like potty, washing hands, and brushing teeth, we choose a song and story.  My husband usually reads a book to our preschooler while I put the baby to sleep - pretty traditional stuff.  The song, however, has become a YouTube selection.

A few nights ago, I was putting both kids to bed, so I got to help with the music choice.

“Let’s go to my computer,” I said.
“Do you have an iPhone, Mama?” asked the little dude.
“No, I don’t have an iPhone, honey.”

He paused a moment gravely, to contemplate the shocking inconvenience of not having his bedtime song played on a wireless device from the comfort of his bed.

Something Old, Something New, and A Little Botox Too

As I reach my tenth wedding anniversary, I often think that we got married in the dark ages.  Our wedding pictures were taken on film, for heaven’s sake!  The other big change seems to be how the bride treats her bridesmaids. We had a small wedding party, so the only two ladies subjected to my dictates were my sister and my husband’s sister.  My sister added a few embellishments to her bridesmaid gown and wore it as a Victorian dance costume, making her one of the few women in the world to actually experience the promise, “Sure, you can wear it again later.” 

However, even if they secretly found the vintage style or lavender color intolerable, they suffered nothing compared to the latest trends.  Botox!  Facelifts!  Not only do they bridesmaids wear matching shoes, they can have matching boob jobs.

One Handed Computer Users- The PG Rated Kind

In advance of the baby’s birth, I changed my passwords to be easily typed with one hand, but I’ve discovered that’s not the only adjustment to make when using the computer as a mother of a newborn.  I need to coin a new phrase.  This phrase may be particularly useful for the local community of computer and gadget-obsessed parents, so please bear with me a moment while I provide an example.

In Neal Stephenson’s fabulous historical/techie novel Cryptonomicon, the protagonist opens his laptop and starts writing. "The memo begins with the word "carpal" which is a little code that they have developed to explain why the following text seems unnaturally terse and devoid of capital letters."

I need an equivalent code to explain that I’m holding a baby with one arm and therefore I only have the remaining hand free to tap out the email, comment, or IM.