Who's The Boss?

I scream, You scream, We all scream for Baskin Robbins

Remember that little post over at Silicon Valley Mom's Blog about my not-so-great experience at Baskin Robbins?  Most of the commentors were throwing dirt at me for speaking up about a dysfunctional policy.  Well Baskin Robbins listened and sent me a very nice email clarifying their position AND apologized for their store's lack of customer service.  I really wasn't expecting anything from BR.  I just was blogging my opinion. 

So color me happy when in this afternoon's mail was a lovely hand-written note from Danielle, a PR Rep for Baskin Robbins and TEN $2.00 gift certificates.  That's twenty dollars for a replacement scoop.  Wow!  The power of blogging. 

With such a generous company, I have to pass on the generosity.  I mean, who doesn't want to enjoy a little ice-cream treat this summer? Therefore, Who's the Boss is having a summer ice-cream giveaway.  NINE lucky WTB Readers will win a $2.00 gift certificate for any delicious treat at Baskin Robbins.   Yes, that means we are keeping just one certificate.  In fact, Darius will finally be getting his replacement scoop tonight after dinner.  Thanks Baskin Robbins.

The Baskin Robbins Free Scoop Contest Rules:

1. Make sure that there is a Baskin Robbins in your area

2. Comment on this post with your favorite flavor of Baskin Robbins ice cream.  Don't forget to use a valid email address (if you win, I need to contact you!)

3. One entry per person.

4. Leave your comment by Monday, June 30th. 

Nine lucky winners will chosen at random and announced on July 4th.

Carpooling is Saving Money, the Environment… and my Marriage

When I started a new job in January that was less than a mile from my spouse’s office, he suggested that we start carpooling.  Gas prices were increasing and we were trying to find alternative ways to reduce our carbon footprint.  I wasn’t at all interesting in carpooling.  It seemed like a big hassle just for saving a few dollars at the pump.  It would require both of us to be cooperative, synchronize our schedules, and be understanding when one of us needed to come in early or stay a little later.  In other words, it seemed near impossible to me. 

Seeing how enthusiastic my spouse was over the notion of getting to use the carpool lane, I started to come around to the idea.  When he offered to do all the driving, I decided to give it a trial run.  Our goal was to carpool three or more days a week.  I honestly thought that we wouldn’t make it past a month before we’d be back to driving separately. 

The first month was like a honeymoon period.  I was in a new role at a new company.  While I was getting up to speed on the projects I would be managing and learning the lay of the land, it was easy to come in at 8:30 and leave by 5:00pm.   Carpooling was dreamy during the first month.  Literally.  I often took a cat nap on the way home from the office. My spouse was at the wheel and I was relaxing.  We carpooled nearly every day – saving over 50% on our gas bill.  We felt pretty smug about ourselves.

The second month was a rude awakening from our dreamy first month.  I was now knee-deep in my projects and having to spend lots of time on the phone with folks in London and Beijing.  It made for many early morning calls and late afternoon calls.  Too often those 4pm calls would often run over and my spouse would be waiting outside for me to wrap up my important meetings.  It made for some tense moments driving home.   By the end of the month, neither of us was committed to carpooling any more.  However, we had both become accustomed to the smooth sailing in the commuter lane and agreed to stick with for another month.  We didn’t reduce our gas bill as much as the first month but we had reduced our commute time by 40% when we stuck together.

By the third month, I was beyond ready to throw in the towel.  The constant communication about schedules, who had to be in early, who had to be in late, who was willing to take calls from home so the other could sleep in till 8.  I had never been so involved in my spouse’s work or he in mine.  We’d always been those people that rarely brought work home with us.  And now it felt like work was never leaving.   There were times after a hard day at the office where I just didn’t want to see my spouse at 5pm.  I didn’t want to have to talk about anything.  I’d try to take my afternoon siesta but would be interrupted about what was for dinner or what was the plan for tomorrow.  Carpooling was officially no longer a dream and was quickly turning into a nightmare. 

Then something divine happened in the fourth month.  Talking was no longer a burden.  We started to share about our work days, help each other through work conflicts, revel in each other’s successes.  I’d make him laugh with stories about the upcoming acquisition.  On nights when I’d walk to the car frazzled and fried, my spouse wouldn’t object to dinner that subsisted of turkey sandwiches and carrot sticks.   We started to hold hands during the commute and give each other a brief kiss before we departed ways in the morning.  Communicating and commuting were no longer a hassle.  Both became fun.

We are now in our sixth month of carpooling at least four days a week together.  Our weekly gas bill is under $50 – not bad considering gas prices are skyrocketing each and every day.  But more importantly, we managed to re-connect with each other.  Just the other morning as he pulled into the parking lot of my office building, he leaned over and said “I like spending this extra time with you” before giving me a kiss good-bye.

When I started carpooling I was in it for the money and the environment.  I’m sticking to it because of the changes it has made in my relationship with my spouse.  Who knew carpooling was good for the soul!

Original post for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

The second month was a rude awakening from our dreamy first month.  I was now knee-deep in my projects and having to spend lots of time on the phone with folks in London and Beijing.  It made for many early morning calls and late afternoon calls.  Too often those 4pm calls would often run over and my spouse would be waiting outside for me to wrap up my important meetings.  It made for some tense moments driving home.   By the end of the month, neither of us was committed to carpooling any more.  However, we had both become accustomed to the smooth sailing in the commuter lane and agreed to stick with for another month.  We didn’t reduce our gas bill as much as the first month but we had reduced our commute time by 40% when we stuck together.

By the third month, I was beyond ready to throw in the towel.  The constant communication about schedules, who had to be in early, who had to be in late, who was willing to take calls from home so the other could sleep in till 8.  I had never been so involved in my spouse’s work or he in mine.  We’d always been those people that rarely brought work home with us.  And now it felt like work was never leaving.   There were times after a hard day at the office where I just didn’t want to see my spouse at 5pm.  I didn’t want to have to talk about anything.  I’d try to take my afternoon siesta but would be interrupted about what was for dinner or what was the plan for tomorrow.  Carpooling was officially no longer a dream and was quickly turning into a nightmare. 

Then something divine happened in the fourth month.  Talking was no longer a burden.  We started to share about our work days, help each other through work conflicts, revel in each other’s successes.  I’d make him laugh with stories about the upcoming acquisition.  On nights when I’d walk to the car frazzled and fried, my spouse wouldn’t object to dinner that subsisted of turkey sandwiches and carrot sticks.   We started to hold hands during the commute and give each other a brief kiss before we departed ways in the morning.  Communicating and commuting were no longer a hassle.  Both became fun.

We are now in our sixth month of carpooling at least four days a week together.  Our weekly gas bill is under $50 – not bad considering gas prices are skyrocketing each and every day.  But more importantly, we managed to re-connect with each other.  Just the other morning as he pulled into the parking lot of my office building, he leaned over and said “I like spending this extra time with you” before giving me a kiss good-bye.

When I started carpooling I was in it for the money and the environment.  I’m sticking to it because of the changes it has made in my relationship with my spouse.  Who knew carpooling was good for the soul!

Original post for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Is "Opting-Out" a Myth?

Raise your hand if you know of a new mother who has opted out for  a year or more after having children?  Yes, that's what I thought.  We all know of women who became moms and ditched the rest of us in the workforce.  I can name off former co-workers who've opted out just as fast as I can name Thomas the Train engines.  Being a full-time working mom it sometimes feels like "another one bites the dust" when you see another protruding belly in the office and the distant responses about "not really sure" if they'll be returing to work. 

So when I read about a new study that de-bunks the "opt-out revolution" as a myth, I was shocked.  Yes, I know of plenty of working mothers.  In fact, nearly all of the women who are on my project are working mothers.  But I also know plenty of professional women that are taking 3-10 years off to focus on motherhood.  When you belong to mother's club that seems to only cater to SAHMs, you can get a little jaded about the opt-out revolution. 

According to Christine Percheski, the revolution is more like a drop in the bucket.  Using cross-sectional data from the US Census, Percheski examined trends of college-educated professional and managerial women in the US from 1960 to 2005. 

Despite all the anecdotal evidence of working women leaving their career to stay home, she found that less than 8 percent of professional women leave the workforce for a year or more during their prime childbearing years. 

More women in my generation (that's Gen X if you are curious) work full-time year-round than our counterparts in any previous generation.

So why does it feel like there are more moms at home than in the work force if the evidence proves otherwise?

Many women who end up working part-time still consider themselves to have "opted-out."  While Percheski's study does look at the number of full-time women who took a year or more off in pursuit of motherhood, it does not compare the number of full-time women who decided to work fewer hours.  I'd be curious to see how that would change the number.

Percheski only examined college-educated professional women. Of course the Opt-Out Revolution typically only looks at white, affluent, educated women.  I suppose the assumption is that those without college degrees never had the choice to opt-out.  Or perhaps their wage was so low that having children didn't give them the choice to opt-in.  Same goes for single moms.  I'm pretty sure that those women who are "opting out" are relying on their spouse's income.   How many single moms do you know of that have opted out?  I don't know of one.

Census-data is just not enough data.  The idea of opting out is still a new one.  Even the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics doesn't agree.  It reports that 60 percent of married mothers are now in the work force, 4 percentage points lower than in 1997. The rate of married mothers of infants who work fell 6 percentage points to 53 percent. Which one is right? 

Regardless of whether working mommas are staying in the workforce or opting out, corporations could do a lot more to make sure that we stick around.  The workplace fails working mothers -  inflexible scheduling, maternal profiling, lack of child care, lack of paid maternity leave, lack of sick leave -  just to name a few. 

Some are pushed out, some have the luxury of choice, many would like to stay but leave because their employer won’t provide the flexibility. Once women leave, they often struggle to return.  Flexibility is the secret sauce and once employers figure this out, opting in and out will become much more fluid and acceptable.

Friday Link Love

Darius and I are flying down to San Diego for a weekend away.  We plan on spending the weekend at the San Diego Zoo (thanks to cheap tix through my big corporation) and lots of time at the beach.  I can't wait. 

Since I now know that you are googling how much you miss me, here is a little link love for you to keep busy while I'm away.

I'm getting crucified over my last post at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog where I questioned Baskin Robbins lame policy.  Go over there and help a girl out.  Yes I can take the heat from the commentors - I developed a thick skin years ago. The article was also picked up in syndication and is available to read in the Sacramento Bee, the Fresno Bee, the Miami Herald, the News & Observer, South Carolina's The State, and the Charlotte Observer. 

Working Parents how do you manage the summer when the kiddos are off of school?  Are they in summer camps?  Are you taking time off?  Are you going crazy with the drop off and pick up schedules?  Sound off on my latest post over at Full Time All the Time about Working through Summer Vacation.

If you have a lot of time on your hands, go read the many bloggers that participated in the SV Mom's Book Club on Writing Motherhood.  I plan on doing these writing exercises more often.  You can check out my post on My First "Bad Mothering" Moment as well. 

If you are in the mood to hone your writing skills, check out this cool contest over at The Other Mother.  All you have to do is craft two paragrahs.  You can do it.

Google Analytics - Summer Edition

It's been a while since I checked out my Google Analytics.  I went on today and had a good laugh over the insanity of keywords.  Really, who in their right mind enters "Me Feet are like Ice" in a google search??? Here are a few of my new favorites (my commentary is in italics)...

Made him smell my    your WHAT??? what did you make him smell?  I must know. 

Goodbye letter to children workers would this be like sweat shop child workers?  Do they know how to read?  What are they getting paid?  Are they getting fired? 

Horny boss yeah um all of my male bosses have been, hmm, how do I say this... not easy on the eyes.  There is no way in hell I'd ever want to know if my boss was horny.  Although Neville was fascinated by a former female boss that had breast implants. I still like to make fun of him about his boob-crush. 

how much do i miss robyn tell me, how much do you miss me?  A lot?  Are you crying?  Do you have a sad face? 

I want to write a gud bye letter you may want to start by googling how to spell "good."  I'd say that would be a gud start.

Pedicure extremely ticklish I can barely stand the foot scrub part of the pedicure.  but the pretty outweighs the pain. 

should i tell my boss i'm having a tummy tuck I saw this show on TLC where a lady had 36 pounds of flesh removed during a tummy tuck.  That's the same weight as my four year old! So if you are having a four year old removed, I'd say you probably want to tell.  But if are just being stretched a little, I'd leave the info to yourself.

ugliest ass boss now is this the boss with the ugliest butt?  Or is this the boss who acts like an ugly ass?  If it is the former, did you actually see the butt?  What made it so ugly?  Hair?  Pimples?  Cellulite?  Share the details!

Writing Motherhood: The Good, the Bad, The Ugly

Today I am taking part in the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog book club.  Writing Motherhood is a guide for all mothers to journal their journey of motherhood - the good, the bad and the ugly.  This post is about "the ugly."  The time in which there is a bad mothering moment.   

When Darius was just a few weeks old, I made a trip to our local Target to pick up some more baby stuff.  I was a worn out new momma.  Darius was still getting up every 2.5 hours like clockwork.  I felt like I was sleeping all time and yet not sleeping at all.  Breastfeeding was hard, but living with a newborn baby was harder.

I felt like I had lost my mind.  Always being proud of my sharp mind, I now felt like I couldn't remember the simplest of details.  It felt like I was re-learning everything.  How to eat while holding a baby, how to take a shower without feeling the guilt of leaving my baby in the crib, how to cook a meal without having to stop twice to nurse.  Looking back four years later, those early memories are foggy. 

The haze I was in during those early weeks has remained hazy.  Except for one moment.  My first bad mothering moment.

I was in Target picking up a portable crib that was on sale.  I was planning on spending the weekend at my mother's house and decided that she should have her own portable crib.  With one on sale for just $25, the trip to Target was totally justified. 

Still a new mom, my timing was still off.  I would later learn when it was safe to leave the house based on when I had last nursed or when my baby had last slept.  But I was still used to only being responsible for me.  When I had an urge to do something, I was accustomed to just getting up and going.  Having a baby whose needs came before my own was still a new learning experience and the lesson wasn't coming easily.  Without thinking about when he had last nursed or when I had last changed him, I loaded up into the car and headed out. 

Everything was fine until we were at the check-out.  Darius needed to nurse.  Still uncomfortable with nursing in public, I unstrapped him from his infant carrier and tried to bounce him around until we made it to the car and home.  As I paid for our purchases, my mom called on my cell phone to find out if I had picked up the crib or if she needed to head to her Target (why oh why I didn't have her pick it up in the first place had never even occurred to me). 

I placed Darius back in his infant seat and proceeded to chat with my mom.  She was my rock during those first few months.  We talked on the phone numerous times each day.  She always had great advice, words of encouragement, and unconditional support.   As I walked out to the car to load the new crib, I placed D's seat into the base and drove home. 

It wasn't until we got home that I realized I hadn't strapped Darius back into the infant seat.  He lay on top of his 5-point harness for the ride home. 

I felt terrible.  Beyond terrible.  I felt like I should just voluntarily give my child to CPS.  I couldn't even remember to strap my own kid into his car seat?  What kind of mother does that?  I felt lucky that nothing had happened to my newborn baby on that ride home.  My mom assured me that all moms make mistakes.  Moms are just as human as the rest of the world - we are imperfect.  We all have bad moments. 

I don't know why, but I felt comfort in knowing that this was the first of many bad mothering moments. 

Celebrate Good Times!

Darius and I celebrated our birthdays with a giant party at a local park on Saturday. We specifically asked all of our friends and family to only bring one small gift for Darius.  Everyone interpreted that message into "Shove as much stuff into one box as possible." 

The big hit of the day - a Power Ranger costume. I already have been forced implement rules around when and where he can wear the thing. Grocery store - no. In the house - yes. At the park - no. In the house - yes. The kid doesn't seem to notice or care that it isn't Halloween. Oh, and we have to call him "Red Ranger" when he is in "uniform" or he won't answer.

The cake. One of my best skills is the ability to delegate. The cake-making was, as always, delegated to my dad. He made this from scratch. I had found an "inspiration" cake to base his design but Mr Martha Stewart found a way to make it even better. It was all chocolate inside - Darius' favorite. And that frosting dyed everyone's lips green. My dad is the best!

The first birthday with a piñata. I think there must be something instinctual about piñatas. Darius had never participated in a bashing before but took to the stage without any hestitation. The kids whacked this to their hearts content.

This is how I will remember the party. Us laughing over a silly singing card. How did my baby already get to be four?

Happy Birthday to me!

Your Birthdate: June 14

You work well with others. That is, you're good at getting them to do work for you. It's true that you get by on your charm. But so what? You make people happy! You're dynamic, clever, and funny. And people like to have you around. But you're so restless, they better not expect you to stay around for long. Your strength: Your superstar charisma Your weakness: Commitment means nothing to you Your power color: Fuchsia Your power symbol: Diamond Your power month: May

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

When bad singing happens to good actors

They'll be charging admission next week

Our neighbors bought this over the weekend and then invited Darius over to play.

Darius learned how to pull himself up onto the big slide in no time.  He had such a blast.  And I had the time of my life watching them. 

Yes just watching. As fun as that looked, getting in a bathing suit to go down a water slide with freezing cold water?  Yeah, that's not my idea of a good time. 

What you can't see in the photo is the purple lips on my child from playing in cold water from the hose.   The child was so cold that he didn't quip once when I forced him out for a sit-in-the-sun-until-you-are-warm time out. 

Makes that birthday pinata we got for his party pale in comparison.

The Food-Dye Rebellion - are YOU in?

My BlogHer '07 roommate is starting a revolution.  And I think we should all join.  I'm ready to make arm bands that unite us all to the cause.  Although I suspect checkbook bands would be more appropriate.

Did you know that artificial dyes are particularly prevalent in the sugary cereals, candies, sodas, and snack foods pitched to kids.  Don't believe me?  Just check out the labels. Did you also know that many fo these artificial dyes are made from crude oil? 

General Mills' Fruit Roll-ups and Fruit-by-the-Foot flavored snacks get their fruity colors from Yellow 5, Yellow 6, Red 40, and Blue 1. General Mills' Fruity Cheerios also contain the dyes. *Source: CSPI

And to think I bought Fruity Cheerios because they had less sugar than Fruit Loops!  In fact, we have a box sitting in our pantry right this instant.   Want to know where it will end up?  Not in my child's body, thats for damn sure.  I'll be pouring those "Fruit O's" into the trash.  Thanks for wasting my money, General Mills.

But what really kills me isn't the chemicals.  Those have been in our foods for the last thirty years.  It's the fact that when the UK bitches loud enough, many of these companies have changed their formulas to remove the chemicals.  But here in good ole USA, the land of opportunity, the land of the free and the home of the brave, we are just a bunch of suckers.  I'm sure that's what these mega-billion companies think. 

The UK gets the new and improved while the USA gets the artificial dyes.  Nice.  Thanks Coca-Cola for leaving my kid with the crude oil.  Appreciate that.  Really.  Makes me want to never buy any of your products again.  What I just don't get about Coca-Cola and other companies that have made changes across the Atlantic but not here, is this... If you know that the dyes are harmful AND if you have made changes to formulas for some of the consumers of your products, then why the hell are you not changing the formuals for everyone????  It's lunacy to me.  It's seems unethical, deviant, just plain wrong.

So until you corporate big-wigs get together and decide that the US deserves to be chemical-free as well, I'll be reading every damned label at Safeway.  And I won't buy a single product,   NOT A SINGLE ONE that contains artificial dyes.  If you won't listen to my voice, you'll certainly be hearing from my checkbook.

For those of you who just don't have the time or energy to read every darned label, Trader Joe's and Whole Foods that already requires every single product in their stores to be chemical free.   

Seventy-Seven Cents

Today marks the 45th anniversary of the Equal Pay Act. Signed into law by President Kennedy, the EPA made it illegal for employers to pay unequal wages to men and women who perform substantially equal work.  At the time, women earned a mere 59 cents to every dollar earned by their male counterparts.  Before you start thinking "we've come along way, baby,"  think again.

Women working full-time, year-round earn only about 77 cents for every dollar earned by men, virtually the same amount women earned in 2005.

An earnings gap exists between women and men across a wide spectrum of occupations. In 2006, for example, the median weekly wages earned by women in computer and mathematical occupations had weekly earnings that were 85% of the wages paid their male counterparts.

In some occupations, women have actually lost ground. For example, in a study of management positions in 10 industries that together employ over 70% of women in the workforce found that women managers consistently made less than their male counterparts; in seven of the 10 industries, the pay gap had increased between 1995 and 2000.

As women get older, the wage gap for them widens. When women start their careers, the pay gap is relatively small: females aged 15 to 24 working full-time, year-round have median annual earnings that are 94% of what their male counterparts earn. However, by the time we reach the critical years leading up to retirement, that 6% pay gap has increased almost five times: women aged 45 to 64 who work full-time, year-round earn only 71% of what men do.

The wage gap cannot be dismissed as the result of "women’s choices" in career and family matters. In fact, recent authoritative studies show that even when all relevant career and family attributes are taken into account, there is still a significant, unexplained gap in men’s and women’s earnings. Thus, even when women make the same career choices as men and work the same hours, they still earn less.

So what can you do?  For one, you can support the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act which requires employers to no longer segregate jobs based on sex, race or national origin but require equivalent skills, effort, responsibility, and working conditions to be the basis for compensation.  The bill also gives punitive and compensatory damages to victims of wage discrimination while prohibiting retaliation.  And it requires employers to keep records of the methods they use to set wages including a yearly report to the EEOC that describes their workforce by position and salary as well as gender and ethnicity.

Plus,iIf you live in one of the following states, at least one of your Senators voted against moving the bill forward: Alabama, Alaska, Arizona, Indiana, Iowa, Florida, Nebraska, New Mexico, North Carolina, Ohio, Texas, and Virginia, you can write your Senator asking them to support the Lilly Ledbetter Fair Pay Act.   Don't have a pen an paper handy? No problem;  you can write them online. 

This isn't just a women's issue.  Menfolk - this affects your wives, your sisters, your mothers, your daughters.  Everyone deserves to earn a fair wage.   We should all be fighting for equal pay.

All of these stastics are from the NWLC Pay Equity Fact Sheet.  There, you can read more about the alarming wage gap. 

To Darius, on your fourth birthday

Congrats kiddo.  You've hit the big time.  Or at least you think so.  For I'm sure what has felt like eternity to get here, you are now four.  When you walked into your school this morning, you were a BIG BOY.  All excited to tell everyone it is your "burff-day" and proudly display four fingers on your hand.   

Last night, momma went out and bought cupcakes.  You didn't seem to notice me deflate a little in doing so.  For every birthday until now, I've always made your cake (or outsourced it to Ya-Ya).   I felt like I failed when we had to get pre-made cupcakes.  I mean, really.  How difficult is it to actually make 15 cupcakes?  It's not.  Really.  But that wasn't the point.

One day you'll learn the art of prioritization and understand that this weekend other things were more important.  Like spending the morning at the water park and an afternoon with our neighbors.  I could have snuck away at some point and made those darned cupcakes.  But you see, I'm still learning how to be fully present in your life instead of behind the scenes in the kitchen or doing laundry or washing toilets.  It's hard when I am home to just be with you when there are 90 other things calling out to me.  Like those dirty dishes in the sink right now. 

I hope in your generation the idea of "having it all" will be either solved or proved utterly impossible.  And that when you are a father you won't even think twice between spending time as a family or srubbing the tile floor.   Because I'll doubt you'll ever say to me "Thanks mom for always keeping the bathtub clean." 

So you get store-bought cupcakes.  And a mother who learns more from you than you from her.  Thanks for the lesson in life, kiddo. 

Happy Burff-day. 

XOXO,

Your Momma

This week

• Darius' birthday is on Monday!  And I need to bring in 15 cupcakes or something similar for the kids of his preschool class.  No ideas on what to make.  My kiddo changes his mind every 30 seconds.  First it was Lightning McQueen.  Then it was Speed Racer.  On Tuesday, it was Power Rangers.  Help! 

• Men of the world, a little free advice: Never, ever tell your spouse that "We're out of bread."  Read about my reaction over at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog.

• My fellow working mommas, have you ever been the victim of maternal profiling?  Sound off over at Full Time, All the Time.   I want to hear from you.

New meaning to the word "Homecoming"

When I walked in the door after a 10-day trip away from my family, the first thing my spouse said to me after a kiss hello was “We’re out of bread.”

With a grocery store within walking distance of our house, a fully stocked fridge upon my departure, and ten days away from my family, really?  That’s the first thing you want to say?  How about a “honey, how was your trip?” or “Supplies are low, but I’ll run up to store tonight for you – you’ve been traveling for 15 hours.”

I know being the parent who gets left behind while the other spouse is traveling, isn’t easy.  It’s hard to be the one that has to hold down the fort.  But good grief is it really that hard to go to the store to pick up a few items?!?

Before I can get worked up over it, I suddenly remember that time when I called him from the airport to remind him to stop at the store for a gallon of milk on the way home (totally forgetting to ask how his trip was first).  Parenting sometimes doesn't bring out the best in us.  And no buts about it, being the parent that stays is WAY harder than being that parent that goes. 

I know that my spouse didn’t intend for the bread comment to be so blatant.  He was merely stating a fact.  When I checked the fridge and pantry, we were out of more than just bread.  We were out of everything!  No eggs, no milk, no fruit, no meat.  What had they been living on?  I suppose they brought new meaning to the bachelor pad - one dad and his four year old living alone for ten days.  I half expected to see our microfiber couch replaced for one in black leather. 

Since I do the majority of the cooking (his specialty is micro-waved hotdogs.  seriously.), I don’t even want to think of what they’ve been eating since I been away.  As far as I could tell, they’d been living on cheese sticks and saltine crackers for the last couple of days – that’s all that seemed to be left.  I looked at him and laughed.  I knew that he missed me.  A lot.  And his stomach missed me too. 

We made a family trip to the grocery store and stocked up once again on all the basics.  After our shopping trip, daddy cooked dinner.  It was hotdogs.  And they tasted mighty fine. 

Tonight I’ll be cooking my first meal since I’ve returned.  Sometimes homecomings don’t go as planned.  Still, I’m happy to be home.  Even if there are still dirty socks scattered all over...

Original post to the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

When I walked in the door after a 10-day trip away from my family, the first thing my spouse said to me after a kiss hello was “We’re out of bread.”

With a grocery store within walking distance of our house, a fully stocked fridge upon my departure, and ten days away from my family, really?  That’s the first thing you want to say?  How about a “honey, how was your trip?” or “Supplies are low, but I’ll run up to store tonight for you – you’ve been traveling for 15 hours.”

I know being the parent who gets left behind while the other spouse is traveling, isn’t easy.  It’s hard to be the one that has to hold down the fort.  But good grief is it really that hard to go to the store to pick up a few items?!?

Before I can get worked up over it, I suddenly remember that time when I called him from the airport to remind him to stop at the store for a gallon of milk on the way home (totally forgetting to ask how his trip was first).  Parenting sometimes doesn't bring out the best in us.  And no buts about it, being the parent that stays is WAY harder than being that parent that goes. 

I know that my spouse didn’t intend for the bread comment to be so blatant.  He was merely stating a fact.  When I checked the fridge and pantry, we were out of more than just bread.  We were out of everything!  No eggs, no milk, no fruit, no meat.  What had they been living on?  I suppose they brought new meaning to the bachelor pad - one dad and his four year old living alone for ten days.  I half expected to see our microfiber couch replaced for one in black leather. 

Since I do the majority of the cooking (his specialty is micro-waved hotdogs.  seriously.), I don’t even want to think of what they’ve been eating since I been away.  As far as I could tell, they’d been living on cheese sticks and saltine crackers for the last couple of days – that’s all that seemed to be left.  I looked at him and laughed.  I knew that he missed me.  A lot.  And his stomach missed me too. 

We made a family trip to the grocery store and stocked up once again on all the basics.  After our shopping trip, daddy cooked dinner.  It was hotdogs.  And they tasted mighty fine. 

Tonight I’ll be cooking my first meal since I’ve returned.  Sometimes homecomings don’t go as planned.  Still, I’m happy to be home.  Even if there are still dirty socks scattered all over...

Original post to the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Blogiversary Giveaway Winners

All winners were picked randomly by a draw.  Since there were so many giveaways, I drew based on the number which corresponded to the order in which the comments were entered.  I typically use random.org for to pick random winners, but found that it often picked the same number for each contest.  Weird, I know.   Darius had the honors of drawing the numbers out of a hat.

For the signed copy of Just Who Will You Be? , the winner is Allison

For healthy and yummy snacks, the winners are Laptop Television Mom and Beth

For the signed copy of Parenting, Inc the winner is Feener

For a box of the best chocolates, the winners are Lia and Dad's House

And for the grandprize of  the HP Photo Printer, the winner is Nicole/Wksocmom

I've tried contacting all of you via email so that I can get your shipping address.  If you haven't heard from me, please email me at whosthebossblog AT gmail DOT com.

Oh and if you live locally (psst Lia and Nicole), then I think a Mommy-Bloggers Night Out is the only way for you to redeem your prize.  wink wink

Momma's home!

After what seemed like an eternity of travel, I'm home.  My dad suprised me at the airport with Darius.  What a wonderful site to be seen: this mother and child squeeling with delight when we laid eyes on each other.  But more excited to see me, I think Darius was thrilled with the prospect of a treat or present that I would bring back from my travels.  This time is was very simple - some sugar free gum from duty free (using the last of my Euros in the airport), a Barcelona t-shirt, and a lollipop as big as his hand.  The lollipop still sits untouched.

Unlike my last international trip where Darius refused to acknowledge my existence for 2 days, this time he was immediately clingly.  In fact, it took some severe negotiations just to give me time to write this post.  He's all about momma.  I am both relishing in his new found love for me and getting real tired of it real quick. 

Darius slept in our bed last night.  Neville generously gave up his side and slept on the couch.  Neville and I have only been able to gaze at each other from across the room - Darius firmly planted in my way. 

I have to actually start working again today.  My vacation officially ended last night.  Like a carriage turned in a pumpkin at the stroke of midnight, this jet-setter turned back into mom and employee extraordinare. 

While I was eating olives in Barcelona, the acquisition completed and I am now a new employee at one of the largest software companies in the world.  I have to install a million things on my laptop, go to New Employee Orientation, and enroll in benefits all in the next 24 hours.  The feeling of being a foreigner for the last 10 days will continue as I navigate through the world of this corporate empire. 

Still,  its good to be home. 

Photojournal: Lisbon, Portugal

Follow the Yellow Brick Road... to Lisbon

The sidewalks in Lisbon are amazing.  Each path has a different pattern.  It makes walking the streets in Lisbon a little dangerous - I'm too busy looking at what is beneath my feet instead of at the people who may be walking towards me.  The craftsmanship in a single sidewalk is breathtaking.

The unique sidewalks were commissioned during the 18th century when the city was rebuilt after a devastating earthquake.  It's probably what Lisbon is best known for - and I am thrilled that I got to see these works of art up close and personal.

I know absolutely nothing about Portuguese culture, the language, the food.  It's been a crash course.  Luckily for me, the people I have encountered having been incredibly sweet and patient.  It helps that, in addition to speaking Portguese, almost everyone speaks Spanish and English as well.

Can't wait to see where this path leads me.

These are a few of my favorite things (in Barcelona)

Tapas. 

My all time favorite is the olives.  You can get them everywhere.  These are "olivas primavera" - both green and black olives (with pits), pearl onions and little gherkins marinated in just olive oil.

The Picasso Tour.  If you are in Barcelona, go to the tourist office at Placa Catalunya and sign up for this 2-hr walking tour.  We walked all over to places that Picasso lived, partied, and painted during his many years in Barcelona. 

This is El Quatre Gats, a local hangout that was very popular with the artists in Picasso's early years. 

The Sagrada Familia (the Holy Family) church. It is an unfinished church made completely of carved stone. The outside of the church is amazing. While I typically find stone to be cold and unappealing, this stone work was so intricate that it exuded warmth. You can stare at the outside of the church for hours and still not see every little detail. A private foundation is working on completing the church.

La Mercat Boqueria. It's Europe's largest outdoor market. I've never seen anything like it before. It's like our local farmer's market on steroids. You can get everything here. Every. thing. Fresh fish, fruits and veggies, local eggs, fresh meat including things I've never seen before. Like skinned whole rabbits or lambs heads. Seriously. It was cool and creepy at the same time. Every item is displayed so delicately that the market felt like a giant piece of art.

What a Croc!

Our first full day in Barcelona was a wet one.  The city was thrilled to get water as they are in a water shortage right now.  The fountains have all been turned off and the government is looking into alternative ways to bring water to the city.  So the rain was muy importante to the Barcelonians.  Sissy and I decided that a little water wasn't going to stop us from enjoying the city. 

Five hours of walking in the rain in my tennis shoes wasn't so bad.  When we decided to go back to our hostel (downstairs in the same building as friends of ours who live in Barcelona), I changed my shoes to flip flops.  The rain was a warm rain but I couldn't bear to be in wet walking shoes for another minute.  My soggy feet needed a break.  We walked almost four hours with flip flops. 

When I awoke the next morning, I could barely walk.  My feet throbbed.  I must have damaged the heels and balls of my feet.  But the pain in my feet was nothing compared to the pain in my heart.  I was going to slow us down.  I was going to ruin the trip.  Walking to the bathroom hurt, how could I ever make it to Parc Guell (an intense uphill walk)?  Sissy was great about it.  She didn't seem to mind that every fourth step, I'd moan about my feet.

When I passed by a shoe store on our way out of a Metro station, I immediately walked in.  I needed a new pair of shoes.  My tennis shoes were still drenched.  My flip flops were slowly killing me.  The only other paid of shoes I had were an expense pair of flats - and no way was I taking those out during the rain.  I needed something that could heal my feet while still enabling me to walk the entire day. There was only one shoe in the store window that could do that. I swore before that I would never wear a pair of these hideous shoes.  I was desperate. 

I bought a pair of black crocs.

Good God, they are the ugliest shoes on the planet.  U-G-L-Y.

But they work, people.  The shoes work.  I immediately had a bounce in my step.  I could walk next to my friend pain free instead of being a royal pain in the ass.  I wore them the whole day and was in love.

The next morning, my tennis were dry and my feet were healed.  And I am now a converted croc lover. 

I've worn them a few times since on this trip.  Typically in the afternoon when my feet need a break.  Sissy and I are walking non-stop on our vacation of a lifetime.  And I don't plan on letting my feet get in the way. Now I know that they won't.