Who's The Boss?

The Swag-alicious BlogHer Giveway

UPDATED: Congrats to MarketingMommy for winning the contest!  Everyone else, please come back next week when I'll be having another BlogHer08 Swag Contest.

In keeping with tradition, I am having a Swag Giveaway for those who did not make it to BlogHer (or for those who did and are a glutton for for swag).  It was hard to part with some of this wonderful stuff, but I'm spreading the swag-love. 

This Who's the Boss Swag In A Box was born from every single swag bag I received at BlogHer - The People's Party, the exclusive SV Mom's Bags, the BSM Media/Mom's Select Room, and the official Swag Bag of BlogHer08.

Included:

Wati Dress (size 4)

Brother's All Natural Fruit Crisps

Merci Chocolates

Busy Body Book

Leap Frog Water Bottle

Tail Wags Helment Cover

Mr. David children's music CD

Coupons for FREE Stoffer's Lasgana

JiDesign Note Cards

Red Scholastic Book Tote from the People's Party

...Much, much more

Estimated Value of Swag in A Box: $175

How to Enter Momma Wants a Swag Bag Contest

• Leave a Comment on this post before 11:59pm, Thursday, July 31st.
• One entry per person (leave a valid email address so that I can contact you if you win!)
• Open to residents of the US (and those internationally who can explain to me customs and pay for additional shipping). 
• Winner will be announced on Friday, August 1st.

If you don't win this contest, I'll be having a second Swag-a-licious Contest next week. 

When that feminism degree of mine gets in the way

Me:  Did you see the VPs response to her escalation?

Director:  Sometimes she's like a bull in a china shop. She just needs a calming male.

Me: weird look...

Director: What? you've never heard the phrase bull in a china shop?

Me:  No, I've heard that.  I've never heard calming male before.

Director: laughs...

Me:  laughing... That's one of the most sexist comments I've ever heard.

Director:  laughing harder...  Not calming male as is M-A-L-E.  But as in M-A-I-L.  As in an email to calm her down. 

Me: laughing even hard and turning red... Oh.  That's better.

Take-away from BlogHer08: Bloggers are People, too

When I attended BlogHer last year, I was taken aback by the undercurrent theme of monetizing your blog.  Many of the sessions I attended would quickly take a turn towards the business side of the blog.  As in how to become the next Dooce. 

This year, there was an underlying theme around playing nice on the blog-yard.  Many sessions turned into forums about how to deal with trolls, unwelcoming comments, your mother finding your blog and your not-so-nice story of her.  Ok, so I only actually attended two sessions plus the closing keynote at BlogHer, but I had many friends in many sessions so that makes me so in “the know” about what went down.  I think the turning point of this "can't we all get along" theme was during the closing keynote when Dooce called out another blogger (who happened to be in the room) about making Dooce not a real person but a mythical hobbit.  The blogger then stood up and called Dooce out about it being a compliment and not a trash comment.  FYI… You can hear the response from Jen and more on the backstory over at Gwendomama who, I might add, was my son’s first music teacher and who explains the whole issue very thoughtfully.  Dooce gave a sort-of response here, if you read between the lines. 

I suppose the hard part to blogging is that there are real people behind each blog.  I don’t think that when most people started a personal blog, they were really expecting a large audience (well, at least that’s what a lot of the more well known bloggers say).  I don’t entirely believe it since it was only about the writing, you’d be keeping a personal journal that only you had access if it was just the “writing” you cared about.  There is something intriguing about writing online.  About having an audience.  I doubt most writer’s intentions when starting a blog is to become famous.  But I’m sure that when they started writing online it was to connect with an audience.  Yes, the audience may have first started out as your best friends, your mom, and your Aunt who lives in Alaska.  Or maybe you started writing online because you were feeling things that were so raw and you felt lonely and you just needed to know that somewhere in the world there was someone who felt the same feelings. 

I started writing when Jill, one of the SV Moms Group founders, put out an email over two years ago to her entire network about starting a collaborative blog.  I was a full-time working mom in an affluent mother’s club that struggled with including working mothers.  I wanted to make sure that there was a voice for working mom’s on the blog.  So I signed up.  The blog was so brand new that my response to Jill in saying “I’m interested” was all it took to be a writer.  A year after joining SV Moms, I decided that I had more to say and created my own blog.  A year after that, Nataly contacted me to start writing for Work It, Mom. 

Honestly, I’ve never had the expectation that I’ll strike it rich, write a book based on the writings of my blog, or become a blog-ebrity like Dooce.  I write because there are a million voices out there and I want mine to be one of them.  I don't ever expect to make in blogging what I make in the high-tech industry. 

Rita Hayworth used to say "They go to bed with Gilda, they wake up with me."  I think that is same for the new celebrities of the blogging world.  We can forget that they are real people too.  It's easy to see our writings as stories, to see the blogger as a character, to forget that we are real people.   Perhaps what Heather is trying to say is that we forget she is more than Dooce.  She's a real person with real feelings that get hurt when people send her nasty emails.

Personally, I don't mind getting called an entitled bitch for asking for a replacement scoop of ice cream at Baskin Robbins.   But I don't get death threats or people telling me I'm going to hell or how they want to throw acid on me to reveal the robot under my flesh.  I guess I'm just not that popular to get the really nasty trolls.  I can see how it could be hard to distinguish the positive from the negative, the supportive reader from the uber-stalker, santa claus from the devil. 

Or maybe these new blog-ebrities need to take a healthy does of a chill pill.  There is something fantastic in getting tons of comments and having millions of hits per month.   I love getting comments.   It's fun.  I won't deny it - it's a nice stroke on my ego.   I can't even imagine the ego boost one who get when they get hundreds of comments a day.   Death threats aside (which I doubt the majority of commentors are vitriolly trolls), I think some of us can get a little too sensitive about comments.  I'm not talking about the serious, "i'm going to hurt you or members of your family" comments - people who leave comments like that need to simply be expelled from the blogging community. 

If you don't like, delete it.  If you can't stand the personal attacks, don't write in a public forum.  And if you plan on calling anyone a mythical hobbit, remember that person may be uber-sensitive and take it the wrong way.

Except for me.  You can always call me a mythical hobbit.  A skinny-bitch, mythical hobbit with really fantastic hair.   Got it? 

This must be how the celebrities feel when getting photographed without make-up

Yesterday, I had the rare privilege of getting to go to the store.  You may think that is no privilege at all.  You may think that going to the store is more like a burden.  A chore.

But when you get to go to Safeway at 10:00 in the morning on a Tuesday without kids or blackberry that is buzzing every minute with a new email, you’ll see where I’m coming from.   It was a slice of heaven.  Yes I am aware that it makes me mildly pathetic to be excited about going to the store on Tuesday morning.

The grocery store during the week is a totally different experience than going on the weekend.  For one, there are way more senior citizens in da house.  I’m guessing the “retirement home” does a weekly trip over to the Safeway because seriously I’ve never seen a gaggle of little old ladies at Safeway before. 

Since I was working from home, I just threw a jean jacket over my working-from home-clothes (aka my pajamas).  I couldn’t say with any certainty if I had brushed my teeth, washed my face, or put on a bra before I jumped into the car to quickly get to the store before my next conference call. 

I never expected to run into any one I know. I never run into anyone at the store.  So imagine my surprise when I hear Mom Without a Map's voice.  I had two choices - quickly turn down another aisle and hope that she doesn’t see me OR live up to the fact that I still have remnants of yesterdays eye make-up and own my slobby appearance.   Since I’m a sucker for self-deprecation, I went for the latter.  I shouted over to Michelle “You really are stalking me” and we had a good laugh.

We were both in a rush.  She, more so.  She quickly needed to get her stuff while pushing two kids in a cart and looking like she could pop at any moment.  Just so you know, Michelle, I took a CPR class in college and I could TOTALLY birth your baby.  You know, in case you are ever in Safeway and I happen to be there too and you instantaneously go into labor and have to push right that moment.  I could do it.   We were courteous to one another, chatted for a moment, and then departed ways to finish our shopping.  After all, we just met a few days ago at BlogHer, found out that we live super duper close to one another, and promised to get together soon.  I don’t think either of us imagined that two days later we would be running into each other in the local grocery store. 

I was so high from 1.) not having my child in tow and 2.) running into a new bloggy friend, I ended up spending $82.17 on groceries when I went into the store for bread, cheese, and lunchmeat.  The store was so gloriously stocked (another advantage of going during the week), that I took advantage of all the sale items. 

I also learned a valuable lesson.  Now that I have a SAHM friend in my city, I can never leave the house without my make-up on. 

And a bra too. 

Every Party has a Pooper

Yesterday, sometime between the third session and the closing keynote speaker at BlogHer, I called home.  It was a tear-filled event.  Darius had been missing me awful and I felt exactly the same way about him.  My heart hurt. 

My heart has been hurting for a couple of weeks.  First it was the last-minute business trip to San Francisco for a week, then it was working out of the East Bay for another, but the straw that broke my heart was finding out I would be away again starting on Monday.  It's not like I'm traveling across the country.  Which, right now, I think would be so much easier than driving to far places in the Bay Area -- where it's close enough to come home every night but far enough away that I miss all the happenings at home.

On a side note, I just typed "Fart palaces" instead of far places - guess that shows my true feelings about commuting to the East Bay.

Honestly, my most guilty moments as a working mom are about whether or not I am spending enough time with my son.  I'm sure in that way I am pretty typical with other working moms.  It isn't enough for me to see my son for just an hour every day.  I've always pushed hard for flexible scheduling and working from home so that I can be with my son more.   

After talking to Darius, it just didn't feel right to stay at the conference one more minute.  It wasn't so much about mommy guilt.  It was about doing what's right for me.  And my family.  While I was having a great time hanging out with fabulous women, listening to awesome speakers, and swimming in my swag, it didn't feel right to be there any longer. 

It felt like the air at BlogHer was quickly leaving and the only way I would be able to breathe again would be to get my ass home as quickly as possible.  I couldn't hold my breath for another day.  I had to get out of there fast.

I packed my bags, texted my roommate that I was heading home early, and went to what can only be described as the weirdest closing keynote (more on that later).  When the conference was officially over, I was ready to get home. 

I got out of San Francisco so fast.   I usually get lost so easily driving up and down one way streets, but this time there was kung-fu momma magic that navigated me to the freeway without a single wrong turn.  I was home before Neville and Darius had finished dinner. 

My heart was whole again. 

When Darius was born, I didn't think my love for him could get any bigger than it already was.  I thought that new-mother love was as good as it gets.  Boy, I was so wrong.  My love for my child seems to grow each day.  A rational thinker, I thought my heart only had so much room for love.  But my son has shown me that my heart will continue to grow to hold the love.  That there is infinite capacity for love inside each and every one of us.  Even me.

And that listening to your heart is a fine way to go about living your life. 

Home never felt so good.

How to take a Headshot, Who's the Boss style

Step One:

Join the SV Mom's Group.  This is reason 1,879,222 that I love writing for the SV Moms Group.  Besides the fabulous writers and the best founders, it's the perks people!  SV Mom's Group loves it writers and it shows.  In the TWO free swag bags, an exclusive pre-BlogHer party, and now headshots for all their writers.  Come one, what's not to love.

Step Two:

Get your make-up done by a fabulous Latino gay man who talks your ear off about your skin tone and coloring all the while wearing more make-up than he's putting on you.  This is a crucial step because for the rest of the night people will tell you how great you look and you only have Eduardo to thank for it. 

Step Three:

When you sit down for your free photo shoot, make sure you say to the photographer than you are ready.  Or just plaster your smile the moment you are in front of the camera.  Otherwise, you may look like you smoked a doobie before the session.  Seriously, I swear that I had only had one teeny glass of wine .

Step Four:

When the photographer tells you to look "snobby" under no circumstances are you to make this face.

Nothing says "I'm a snobby bitch" more than a double chin and pancake lips. 

Step Five:

Get your laugh captured on film.  I always throw my head back when I am laughing.  And since I was now officially being a diva, White Trash Mom had to come over and put me in my place.  My cleaveage had no special charming powers over her.

Step Six:

Avoid the hair drama.  When there is only one hair dresser to touch up over 100 women (some of them totally gorgeous and put together they never needed the hair or make-up to begin with), just brush your own hair and move on.  I missed the hair drama since I always come prepared with my Texas hair already styled.  I was hoping for a true mommy wrestling match over how got to sit down next in the chair, but alas every one kept it civil.   

Step Seven:

Buckle down and take some real photos before the photographer tells you the session is over and hands you your free memory stick with all the photos - even the ones with the double chin.

BlogHer or Bust

Writing this in solidtude in my hotel room while the rest of BlogHer attendees are at one of the many sessions.  Work has invaded even this fun conference and I have to tend to it.  Afterall, I get paid for working.  I can't very well tell my boss to take a hike a week before my project ends (to major success thank you very much) just so that I can hang out with a bunch of the coolest bloggers around.   

Still, in between root cause analysis, threatening emails to co-workers that have missed their deadline, and making sure that the project ends on the high note we want it too, I've been stealing away down to the BlogHer conference. 

Highlights of Day One:

Getting to make a video with Grover at Sesame Street for my son Darius! I'm sure it will rank as the best present he's ever receieved from one of my business trips.

Getting an awesome demonstration and getting to keep a new bluetooth headset called Zivio that is made for moms.  I'll be reviewing it over at WTB Reviews soon. 

Having a 10-minute massage in the middle of the day - a relaxing luxury courtesy of Casa Medrona.

Four (yes count 'em FOUR) bags of Swag.  I haven't had the pleasure of going through the bags and relishing in all the goodies just yet.   I can't believe some of this stuff. 

The SV Moms Group generous arrangement of make-up sessions and head shots with a real photographer.   

And of course getting to hang out with fabulous women like Family Freitas, Tippy Toes and Tantrums, V Dog, Desiree of Lookiloos, Go-Go Mommy, The Mama Bird Diaries, Not Just a Working Mom, Mom Without a Map, and It's My Life...

I didn't get to attend any sessions just yet.  There is so much going on it's overwhelming.  But in a good way.  Still need to meet up with old friends and meet new ones. 

Can't wait to see what tonight brings!

Where I pimp out that other blog of mine

It's been a busy week over at Who's the Boss? Review Blog.  Seriously.   Check out my latest reviews on:

Orville Redenbacher Smart Pop popcorn

Journey to the Center of Earth movie

FritoLay's new brand of Pinch of Salt Chips

An old school magic show by an up and coming Magician

Please go over and check it out.  I ate an entire bag of chips for you people - the least you can do is check out my review.  :)  Pretty puh-lease. 

The Second Shift

It’s 10 o’clock at night and I am just starting my second shift.  I’m convinced all working mothers clock an entire (or close to entire) second shift when we get home from our day at the office. 

When I arrive home around 5:30 it is all about getting dinner on the table.  Then it’s time for 1:1 time with my son, followed by bath-time, our nightly activities to help Darius with his fine motor skills (like cutting, writing his name, putting beads on a string).  Bedtime is supposed to be at 9pm but it often creeps much closer to 10pm.  After reading books, brushing teeth, rough housing with Dad (Darius, not me), the night can quickly get away from us. 

If I went to bed at the same time as Darius, then a whole lot of things would not get done around here.  My second shift begins when my son finally hits the hay.   I can get all sorts of things done after 10pm. 

Before midnight tonight I will make crab curry and basmati rice for dinner tomorrow, clean the kitchen, write some reviews for that little review blog of mine, do some pre-packing for BlogHer, answer emails, check-in with the team in China and Korea, and cut up enough carrots to last us the rest of the month. 

I would have done laundry but, for once, I am caught up.  I’m a little scared to admit that since the laundry seems to multiply like rabbits over night in this house.  Am I daring the universe to bury me under a pile of laundry?

When I finally call it day sometime close to 1:00am, I’ll have completed most of the big things on my list. 

No wonder I don’t have any time to make it to the gym. 

The last time I will ever write about my mother

It's a little known fact that my mother and I don't always see eye to eye.  We have good times, we've had bad times, and we've had lots of dramatic, screaming, crying times.    But we love each other.  There is no doubt about that.  It's just that sometimes it takes us a while to truly understand each other. 

I spent the weekend at my mom's house with Darius.  Neville is in his last class for his MBA and if he earns an "A" then he will be able to graduate with Honors.  So Darius and I headed out of the house for the weekend so that Neville could devote the time to his studies.  See?  I am a supportive partner. 

Spending the weekend with my mom is always fun.  We almost always go see a movie - a tradition in our house.  Darius gets to play with Nana's doggies who love him so much they bark and run around like it's Christmas.  But it can also be stressful for me.  She indulges Darius more than I like, as Grandparents often do.  Going to church is always on the schedule - which always makes me a little uneasy since I no longer practice and Neville has a different religion.   But I know it is important to her.  And I know that Darius equates church these days with getting cookies and punch.   

I love my mother.  Depsite all the drama we've faced over the years, especially during my teen years, we've managed to keep a solid relationship.  There were times where I truly believed my mother was crazy.  And I'm sure that she truly believed I was a spoiled, ungrateful brat.  If we had given up during any of those overly dramatic years, we would have missed out on so much.   I'm grateful that we stuck it out. 

This weekend my mother made a comment about how she wasn't going to share her feelings with me because I would "blog about it."   It was the first time I ever heard my mother use the term "blog." 

I reassured her that I had plenty of other material that I could write about.  And that while our mother-daughter stories are painfully funny, I'm won't write about it.  It does mean that a whole chapter in my life becomes "un-bloggable," but unlike in my youth where a comment like that would have meant that I ABSOLUTELY would blog about her just to DEFY MY MOTHER.  Well, now I will respect her wishes.  This is the last time I will mention my mom. 

That is, until she asks why I never blog about her. 

Dreams, Interrupted

Laying on the king bed at this four-star hotel has been heavenly.  The Egyptian cotton sheets are soft and cool on my skin.  Having the bed all to myself is divine. 

Until I fall asleep. 

Every night I have had disturbing dreams that feel incredibly real.  I  wake up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily, afraid.  This week so far I've dreamed

Driving with a baby girl on my lap a la Brittney style and getting into a car accident.

Witnessing a space shuttle explode and fall into my backyard killing everyone.

Trying to protect children from a hostage situation at the YMCA and cover them with my body when the shooters start firing.

Watching my father get beaten to a bloody pulp at a baseball game by gang members. 

I have no idea what these dreams mean.  I'm not sure I want to know.   Perhaps it is the happy hour drinks.  Perhaps it is my brain in overdrive after sitting in meeting after meeting after meeting. 

All I know is that I'm not looking forward to going to be tonight. 

Just call me Roseann

Working this week in a major metropolitan city has been eye opening.  I'm loving my Egyptian Cotton sheets.  I'm loving walking to work.  But I'm feeling a tad bit frumpy.  My Silicon Valley wardrobe that consists mainly of jeans, jeans, and more jeans is WAY too casual for working in the city.   

The women in this office dress like this:

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And I am dressed more like this:

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But the difference between what they are wearing and what I am wearing makes me feel more like this:

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I know that the saying goes that you should dress up to work.  That the more professional your wardrobe, the better your chance for promotion.  That you are more respected in a suit than in jeans and a tee. 

But in Silicon Valley where CEOs live in black shirts and blue jeans, that old saying just isn't true.  We take business casual to a whole new level. 

I'm feeling a bit like a fish outta water.   Or at least a poor fish in a really, really expensive pond.

When the Juggle officially kicks my ass

Late last night my boss called.  She is a great boss and has NEVER called on a weekend before so I figured it must be incredibly important to pick up the phone.  With less than 12 hours notice, I was needed in an offsite training in San Francisco for the entire week.  Being a nice boss, she went ahead and booked a hotel for me for the week. 

If only she could coordinate drop-off and pick-up for daycare, reschedule Darius' swim lesson on Thursday, pack for me, and make sure that the boys (grown and child) have enough underwear and hotdogs to make it a week without me.

I am now sitting in a new office building across the street from AT&T Park.  I was packed and with a very supportive family got everything figured out in a matter of about an hour last night. 

I'll be getting acquainted with the city before BlogHer next week, calling a few city-dwelling friends for drinks after work, and desperately trying not to feel guilty about staying in a hotel when I could take an hour train each day.      

It's been a long, long time since I've had to just get up and go to make a work committment.  I'm feeling very rusty. 

The New Company Has a Blog Policy

Company Blogging Policy and Guidelines

As a company, we believe in encouraging communication among our employees, customers, partners, and others—and Web logs (blogs) can be a great way to stimulate conversation and discussion. They’re also an invaluable tool for experienced Company users who want to share information and tips on the use of Company products.

Even if your blogging activities take place completely outside of work, as your personal blogging activities should, what you say can have an influence on your ability to conduct your job responsibilities, your teammates’ abilities to do their jobs, and Company’s business interests.

Protect Confidential Information
You may not use your blog to disclose Company’s confidential information. Protecting the confidential information of our employees, customers, partners, and suppliers is also important. Do not mention them in your blog without their permission, and make sure you don’t disclose items such as sensitive personal information of others or details related to Company’s business with its customers. Take care not to disparage or denigrate competitors.

Don’t Comment on M&A Activity
You must not comment publicly on Company's M&A activity, including potential and pending acquisitions. This applies to potential acquisitions regardless of their status – in diligence, announced but not closed, etc. Any commentary on what a transaction or potential transaction may mean to Company, positive, negative or neutral can be problematic.

Refrain from Objectionable or Inflammatory Posts
Do not post anything that is false, misleading, obscene, defamatory, profane, discriminatory, libelous, threatening, harassing, abusive, hateful, or embarrassing to another person or entity.

Don’t Speak for the Company
Remember that you are not an official spokesperson for the Company. Make it clear that your opinions are your own and do not necessarily reflect the views of the corporation.

Policy Regarding Communications with Press and Analysts.
Company employees with personal blogs that discuss Company’s business, products, employees, customers, partners, or competitors should include the following disclaimer in a visually prominent place on their blog:
The views expressed on this blog are my own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Company.
Note that while you are not an official spokesperson, your status as a Company employee may still be relevant to the subject matter. You should identify yourself as an employee if failing to do so could be misleading to readers. Employees should not engage in covert advocacy for Company.

Respect Copyrights
You must recognize and respect others’ intellectual property rights, including copyrights. While certain limited use of third-party materials (for example, use of a short quotation that you are providing comment on) may not always require approval from the copyright owner, it is still advisable to get the owner’s permission whenever you use third-party materials. Never use more than a short excerpt from someone else’s work, and make sure to credit and, if possible, link to the original source.

Don't Misuse Company Resources
Personal blogging activities must not interfere with your work or productivity at Company. Don't use company resources to set-up your own blogging environment, even if you are blogging about matters related to Company.

100 Things About Me - The Final Chapter

81. I drive an orange car.  And I love it.  I can always find the car in the parking lot.
82. I hold a PMP.  That stands for Project Management Professional. 
83. I consider myself a recovering shoe addict. 
84. Blackberries really are Crackberries.  I am rarely seen without mine.
85. When it comes to work, I am a classic over-achiever.  When it comes to housework, I am a total slacker.
86. I am fiercely loyal to my friends. 
87. I don’t like stupid people.  Or smart people that act stupid.
88. I am a very inpatient person.  Patience is a virtue, just not one of mine.
89. I have excellent gay-dar (that’s gay radar).  I can spot a closeted gay man faster than Carl Lewis can sprint the 100-M dash. 
90. I love to cook for my family.  But I always get a little miffed when Neville asks “What’s for dinner?” 
91. I am a classic Gemini. 
92. I don’t like the beach. 
93. My only college regret is not taking the opportunity to study abroad.  I should have taken advantage of that.  How cool would it have been to be 20 and studying in Italy?
94. I make the best grilled cheese sandwiches. 
95. Motherhood wasn’t as life changing as I thought it would be.
96. I am thinking of going into business for myself.  I am scared of failing.  The fear is keeping me from pursuing the dream.
97. I don’t like frilly, smelly lotions.  The fragrance triggers a migraine.
98. I’m tough on the outside and soft on the inside. 
99. I don’t like to spoon or cuddle.  Not for me, thank you very much.  But I do like to hold hands in public
100. Writing 100 things about me was WAY harder than I thought.