Who's The Boss?

A different type of birthday

Samantha is the closest thing I’ll ever have to a sister.  Despite my pleas to my mom to have another baby so that I could have a younger sibling, my mom never obliged my request.  So Sam, my dear Sam, became my stand-in for a kid sister.  She’s three years younger than me, the youngest child of my father’s best friend, and the perfect companion to my bossy ways. 

Sam had the most active imagination of any of my friends.  We could play dress up for hours.  We would start pretend businesses, like a friendship bracelet business, and make bracelets for hours while answering the phones to take new “orders” all the while pretending we were married to members of New Kids on The Block.  Afterall, we are children of the Eighties.

Like a proud big sis, I love telling of Sam’s stories of when we were kids.  Like when she had a speech impediment and named my dad “Ya-ya” when trying to say Philip – a name that has stuck nearly thirty years later.  Or how she got lost in a hardware store and the clerk thought Samantha called herself “Martha” and made an announcement over the loud speaker for the mother of Martha to come to the Courtesy clerk.  Or how she hated getting her face wet and actually learned how to swim without making a single splash.  Or how she made my father drive over to their house three days week to wash and detangle her hair.  Or how she would run around naked as a child demanding that people “kiss her butt” and it wasn’t a demand that was rude or unsightly but, rather, playful and innocent.  And wouldn’t you know that there was always someone who was willing to kiss the ass of that adorable little three year old girl.

I remember the day that Samantha’s mother passed away suddenly from a brain aneurism.  She was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving behind three children and a husband who never learned to cope with her death.  Karolyn was the alpha female in that family.  In her whole circle, actually.  Karolyn was a force.  Practically a demi-god to us kids.  I’m still convinced to this day that she was ahead of her time.  She was the first mom I had ever heard openly talk about how motherhood could be a real buzz-kill.  Mom’s in the 70s and 80s didn’t talk about the trenches of motherhood.  But Karolyn did.  She was hysterically funny, witty, and always had a pack of spearmint gum in her purse.  When she left this world, she left a hole in the hearts of so many people that even twenty-two years later, it doesn’t stand a chance to ever be filled. I saw the path of her children’s lives begin to change that day.  And I’ve witnessed them all make choices that I’m not sure they would have made if their mother was still alive. 

What's for Dinner? Turkey Meatloaf and Twice Baked Potatoes

Neville loves mashed potatoes more than any other food.  But I can't eat mash every night of the week.  I can't even eat it once a week.  So I found a good compromise - Twice Baked Potatoes.  Before I started cooking yesterday, I called Neville to ask if what he wanted "Mash or Twice Baked?" To my surprise, the man picked twice baked.  Progress, people!

Turkey Meatloaf

Now I cheat and buy the already made turkey meatloaf mix from Lunardi's.  But making your own meatloaf is easy.  Just throw a pound and a half of ground turkey meat in a bowl and add 1 egg, 1/2 cup bread crumbs, 1/2 onion (minced), 1 rib of celery (minced), and salt/pepper.  Then mold it into your loaf pan.  I add a few shakes of Worcestershire sauce on top and a smattering of ketchup because that's how my mom made it and therefore that's how I have to do it too.

Bake in a 375 degree oven for 30-45 minutes until cooked all the way through.

Twice Baked Potatoes

• 4 medium to large russet potatoes (you can bake these in an 450 degree oven for 45 minutes or cook in the microwave for about 15 minutes)
• 1/2 cup buttermilk (if you don't have buttermilk, add 1 tablespoon of lemon juice to 1/2 cup of milk and let sit for 5 minutes)
• 1 cup cheddar cheese, shredded (about 4 ounces)
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 3 scallions, chopped
• 1 tbsp fresh herbs (my favorites are either chives or dill)
• salt and pepper

Preheat oven to 450 degrees.  Cut baked potatoes in half, crosswise by length.  Scoop out insides out, leaving a 1/4 inch border in the potato skin.  Mash the insides in a bowl until only a few lumps remain. Place skins on a baking sheet and place in oven for 3-5 minutes (while it is preheating is fine).  Add remaining ingredients to the bowl and mix until combined.  Taste and season.  Remove the skins from the oven and scoop the potato mixture back into the skins. Bake, uncovered, for 10-20 minutes until tops are golden brown.  Let rest for 5 minutes before serving.

I served mine with an additional steamed veggie.  Enjoy!

Confession: I've worn pajamas in public

There is the group of mothers at my son's school that always look put together.  It doesn't matter if it 7:45 in the morning or 2:45 in the afternoon.  These ladies are always perfectly primped with their coordinating outfits, styled hair, and matching accessories.

Sadly, I'm not one of them.

When it's my turn to take Darius to school in the morning (something that Neville often does for me 3-4 days a week), I throw on a baggy jacket over my bra-less night shirt and grab the biggest pair of sunglasses to cover as much of my yet-to-be-washed face that I can.  I've been known to drive in my slippers.  It's not pretty.  It's pretty slob-y if I'm totally honest about it.

In the UK, some schools are tsk-tsking this behavior. Taking a page from a supermarket in Cardiff that banned shoppers who were still in their nightgowns and slippers, area schools are “taking a stand,” according to The Daily Mail online.  The principal at St. Matthew's school sent home a notice to parents telling them, "While it is not my position to insist on what people wear, or don’t, I feel that arriving at the school in pyjamas is disrespectful to the school and a bad example to set to children. People don’t go to see a solicitor, bank manager or doctor dressed in pyjamas, so why do they think it’s O.K. to drop their children off at school dressed like that?”

Another reason to celebrate the end to British rule. We're American, dammit.  Give us our liberty.  Give us our right to wear whatever the hell we want wherever the hell we want to. 

One of the joys of working from home means that I don't have to get ready while getting Darius ready.  I don't have to get up an hour early to get myself showered, styled, and read for work.  My personal goal when I work from home is to be ready by 10am.  After I've checked email and attended a couple of morning conference calls, I'll take a quick break to get out of my pajamas (or my bathrobe in today's case which I've been wearing for the last three hours) and into a pair of jeans and a sweater. 

There is no accessorizing, only a hint of make-up, and my hair is barely styled.  I've been known to wear the same sweater for three days in a row because I never left the house other than to do drop off and pick up and no one has seen me or my sweater.  I'm never gonna be one of those put-together moms that I stare at from beneath my very large dark sunglasses.

I fessed up.  Now how about you?

Worth the wait

I only had to put up with him for ten years before he bought me a bouquet of roses

My gift to him was what every man wants on Valentine's Day...

homemade lamb kebabs

 

Undercover Boss: is executive management out of touch?

I don’t know about you, but I eagerly anticipated the premier of Undercover Boss after Sunday’s Superbowl. Sure, I may be a reality TV junkie. But, really, this premise intrigued me more than Jake the Bachelor ever could. A CEO going undercover in his own company, taking on jobs of his everyday working class employees, and experiencing firsthand the impact of his decisions.

The first episode followed Lawerence O’Donnell, the President and COO of Waste Management, as he posed as a newbie on front-line jobs that his employees do every day. He learned firsthand that some of them do really hard, messy work for low pay. While most of us aren’t literally picking up other people’s shit, it sure can feel like it some days. Right?

If I was an employee of Waste Management, I would have a deeper appreciation for my COO right now. He saw problems with how his own policies were implemented and how his decisions, made in a pretty corner office, impacted the real people of Waste Management. In the end, he vowed to make some policy changes to make some of their work lives easier.

Don’t you want to know what really happened after the cameras left? I sure do.

Continue reading at Full Time, All the Time

If this is a sign, I'm going in a new direction

Two days in a row, we cracked open a egg to find a twin yolk inside.  And Darius, who heard us talking about trying for #2, has decreed that we deliver him not one but TWO brothers.

For the record, I'm not pregnant people. But if I was and this happened, I'd be shitting my pants about now.

We survived 100 days of school

Monday was the 100th Day of School Celebration.  A holiday that I have no memory of from when we were kids, leading me to believe that we really have been brainwashed by Hallmark. The teachers sent home a form telling us parents that the kids would have to bring in a display of 100 things to show on Monday.  More than once the teachers reminded us not to wait until the last minute to start the project.  So last Tuesday, I asked Darius what he wanted to do for his 100 Things project.  In my head I was going to steer him to 100 stickers because I know that we can drum up 100 stickers and that he could basically do the project all by himself.

Instead my genius of a son said "How about 100 seeds?"

He's brilliant, people.  For one, we have a ton of seeds from my wanna-be gardening days.  And secondly, seeds are small.  I won't have to go out and buy a giant poster board or spend hours doing  assisting his 100 Things project. We were done in less than 20 minutes including the 3 times he spelled S-C-H-O-O-L wrong. Okay, so maybe he isn't the next genius. Sue me.

While the kids had a little party in their class to celebrate the milestone, I do think that the school should hold a champagne brunch for the parents.  After all, didn't we survive 100 days of school too? 

In my next life, I want to be a performer in Cirque du Soleil

My family was first introduced to the magic of Cirque when I was in highschool.  The Color Guard I was involved in (yes, I was in Color Guard, don't judge. we were actually kick-ass and 10th in the world), used music from two different Cirque du Soleil shows for our performance music.  The music was different, irreverent, and oh so melodic.  The next time Cirque traveled to San Jose, my dad bought tickets.  We've gone to every show that has toured these parts since. 

I love Cirque.  Partly because their aren't any animals in the show; you'll never miss the parade of elephants or the lion tamer.  Partly because the venue is so intimate that there really isn't a bad seat in the house.  But the reason why I love Cirque so much is that the acrobatics are so original, so jaw-dropping, and look like they are done so effortlessly.  While watching you're thinking "How in the WORLD can they DO THAT?" while also thinking "HOW in the world do they make it LOOK so EASY?"

On Thursday, I had the privilege of attending opening night of Cirque du Soleil's new show OVO, courtesy of Hadley Media.  I will say that if you have never been to a Cirque show or if you've wondered if your kids are old enough to handle it, this is a great show for you.  Some Cirque theme's in the past have been dark or even a little scary.  This one is light and airy... all about insects and love.  The show is long (2.5 hrs including a 30 min. intermission), but really you are so captivated that the time flies by. 

I won't give anything away about the show.  You have to see it for yourself to believe it.  And also, my dad reads this blog and got the whole family tickets (we go next week) and if I spoil anything for him, I won't hear the end of it.  All I'll say is that when the show ended, and we walked back to our car in the pouring rain, my step was a little lighter.  I honestly said that if reincarnation really does exist, I hope I do something excellent in this lifetime so that I can be a Cirque du Soleil performer in my next life.  I'd even be thrilled to be a silly clown.

Photo credit: Cirque du Soleil

What's for Dinner? Steak and Potatoes

If a way to man's heart is through his stomach, then I know the reason why Neville fell in love with me. It works out well that I love to cook and he loves to eat.  Anyone who knows Neville knows that he is a typical "steak and potatoes" man.  Last year, we challenged ourselves to eat less red meat.  I found that by giving up ground beef and switching to ground turkey, we could indulge in a steak ever now and again without feeling guilty about it.  Then for Christmas, my mother gave Neville over a hundred dollars worth of steaks from Omaha steaks.  So every other week, we've been pulling out a few steaks to enjoy. 

While Neville loves a good piece of meat, his true love is Mashed Potatoes.  I think I could make them every night of the week and he would never complain.  Mash is easy to make so don't go thinking you can get away with the boxed stuff.  Besides, mashed potatoes are easy on your budget which makes splurging on the steak a little more friendly to your wallet.

Steak and Potatoes, The Boss Style

iPad and the glass ceiling

Last week when Apple launched its new product, the iPad, women around the world cringed.  Naming a product after a feminine hygiene product was an error on Apple’s part.  For the rest of the week, thousands of women joked on Twitter, Facebook, and their blogs about the lapse in judgment.  There was iTampon, the iPad with wings, iPon.  There were people saying that the product marketing folks iFailed or should be iFired.  iLaughed (get it?) my way through most of the week.  We’ll see if Apple changes the name of the iPad in its second or third generation launch in years to come. 

After I tilted my head in confusion over the slip-up, I thought to myself "Does Apple not employ any women and did they not speak up about how iSlate or iTab or iAnythingElse would have been a better name?"  But then, I found out that Apple doesn’t employ women executives, so there might not have been a woman in the room to speak up.  Maybe Apple has hired a female VP in Human Resources; that seems to be the place where most companies place their token female executive.  In fact, when you look at Apple’s executive roster, you don’t find any diversity.  Look at those eleven pretty shiny faces of white men.

Maybe Apple should have name their products according to hiring practices. iWhite.  iDiscrimination. iDon’tGroomDiversity.  For some of you, you may think I’m too harsh.  You say that women aren’t in executive positions because they don’t have the job qualifications or they took time off to breed the next generation.  I say that is all hogwash.  I bet that most, if not all, of those guys didn’t graduate with their fancy MBA ready to lead a company or a division of a company.  Those men were mentored and groomed. 

I'm not here bashing the product.  The iPad seems like it will be the next big thing.  Everything that Apple launches right now seems to turn to gold.  I just wished that their Midas touch was implemented on the women in their company.  Because the iGlassCeiling is clearly rotten at Apple.