Who's The Boss?

Disneyland Day 1

 

the unhappy daddy mouse

   

the very first ride

 

the nightmare before christmas has haunted the mansion

 

the encounter with the most famous mouse in the world

 

the spectacular fireworks show to end the night

We're going to Disneyland

We are heading to the most magical place on earth for the weekend.  The last time we went to Disneyland, Darius was just barely 2 years old.  Time for an updated family photo, don't you think?

   

And the winner is....

And the winner of the Leapfrog Didj is.... (drumroll please)

Nanette!

 

 

Darius and I pulled her name out of a hat.  I've used random.org in the past, but then noticed that it often pulled the same number whenever I ran a contest (one smack in the middle, if you are curious).  So I am relying on the old hat trick for a while. 

Also, I am moving all giveaways over to my review blog.  Betchya didn't know I have a review blog, eh?  It's grossly neglected.  Lots of cobwebs and dust and spiders over there.  Poor little neglected blog. 

To make it a shiny happy place, I'll be having a giveaway a week for the month of December starting with a free laptop skin from skinit.com.   Plus I just reviewed a fun toy that can keep your kids occupied for hours.  So come on over and check it out.

Damn you, Santa

I rely on the "Santa Syndrome" as a disciplining techinque from Halloween until Christmas.  Every parent who celebrates Christmas uses this technique.  You know, the same one that your parents used on you when you were a kid.  The one in which you pretend to call Santa or let Santa know that your child is acting naughty.  The one in which you threaten coal in a stocking.  When you remind your child that Santa is making his Good List and Naughty List, so he best start acting like a good little boy or he may get nuttin' for Christmas.

It's cruel and manipulative, I know.  But it works, people!  It works like a charm. 

That is, until Santa ruined it for me. 

My dad took Darius on a shopping trip to the mall this past weekend.  While they were passing the Santa photo op, Darius waved and said hello to the man in red.  And wouldn't you know, Santa smiled and waved back.  My sweet, Christmas-loving child took that to mean one thing and one thing only...

He's been a good little boy this year and Santa will be bringing him LOTS and LOTS of TOYS.

In otherwords, I'm totally screwed.

Darius came home from the mall so excited about his encounter with Santa.  And totally convinced that the verdict is already in about his "goodness."  No amount of me trying to threaten otherwise has made a crack in his resolve.

Sure, he's a good kid.  In fact he's a great kid.  He's generous and sensitive.  He's kind and cuddly. 

And thanks to Santa, I have no power over him.  By Santa acknowledging his mere presence, Darius has deduced that he is good. 

Santa wouldn't wave and smile at a naughty boy, right?

I hate bad drivers

For all of those returning to work after the long holiday weekend, I urge you to read my piece on considerate commuting.  Apparently all that turkey and stuffing has caused a nuclear meltdown in the area of your brain that controls safe driving. 

Swirving around pedestrians in a crosswalk is not OK.

Tailgating cars already going over the speed limit is not OK.

Reading a newspaper while driving is not OK.

And for peet's sake, it is against the law in Calfornia to be talking on the cell phone without a hands-free device.  Looking around for a cop so you can drop the phone into your lap is not OK. 

Giveaway: LeapFrog's Didj

 Now you don't have to stand in obnoxiously long lines on Black Friday to get this awesome new gaming system from LeapFrog.

 Didj is awesome.  Plain and simple.  You can customize the games to focus on specific needs of your child and track their progess on LeapFrog's Learning Path.    

One very lucky winner will get a brand-spanking new Didj and the fun Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends.  Total retail value is $120.

 

How to Enter the Didj Giveaway:

• Comment on this post before 11:59pm on Friday, November 28, 2008
• Leave your valid email address (without it, you be out of the running)
• You can get extra entries by:
  • Following me on Twitter
  • Posting this contest on your own blog (and leaving a link in the comments)

Winner will be announced on Monday, December 1st.

Sick days

Since becoming a mother, I've had my fair share of sick days.  Usually, those sick days were spent taking care of someone else.  Even if I caught the same bug, there was no rest for me.  The family still needed to eat, the dishes in the sink still needed to be cleaned, and a certain little boy who played in the mud still needed to be bathed.  Sick days were for the weak. 

Of course, as soon as you tell the universe that you can handle being sick then the universe has to open a big of can of whoop ass and whoop your ass.   Lesson learned, oh powerful universe.  Now please go bug someone else.

I spent the majority of this past weekend on the couch.  Moaning, complaining, and coughing.  The fever made my body ache.  The sinus infection made my head hurt.  Going through an entire box of tissues in 4 hours left my nose red and raw.   Having to make my own chicken noodle soup added insult to injury.

Darius, on the other hand, was thrilled to have a sick momma.  He got to watch more than his fair share of TV.  I didn't make him pick up his room or make his bed.  And he had plenty of unsupervised time to decorate with the toilet and sink with an entire tube of toothpaste.  It was a pain to clean-up but the toilet has never smelled so minty fresh. 

I guess I should be glad that one room in this house is clean. 

And cavity-free.

Yes, he's a finance guy

Neville  during our latest discussion about whether or not to have another baby....

"Just think, if we have two kids then we can both have a tax deduction. We'll each claim one kid. Then we can both be Head of Household and get a bigger tax break."

Living in diversity

I'm over at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog talking about diversity today.

For our family, diversity is about blending our two cultures.  When Neville and I fell in love, I didn't realize how easy it would be to blend certain aspects of our cultures while at the same time be so difficult to blend others.  Finding balance or even something that remotely looks like balance takes a ton of work. 

Come on over and check out my latest post on being an Insider and an Outsider.

[Darius] is an insider and an outsider in both communities.  He can blend into both.  He understands Gujarati.  My son is what is means to be diverse.  He has two religions, two languages, two cultures, two names, two identities.  He thrives in both worlds.   Yet on the outside, my son looks white.  He got his fair skin and brown hair from his momma.  If only looking skin deep, you'd never know his diverse roots. 

Just be thankful you don't have to see me in real life

I'm sick.

Last night we attended the Thanksgiving dinner at Darius' preschool.  I offered to help set-up because, yet again, only one mom volunteered to help.  After three hours around sixty children, I could practically feel my body fighting off a cold.

Those kids are adorable; but, they are adorable little germ-infested children.  Like shooting fish in a barrell, it was inevitable that some virus would find its way over to me. 

The symptoms started mid-way through the children's performances.  At first, I blamed it on the over-active heater blasting in the banquet room.  By the time we arrived home, I could already feel the sinus pressure building up.

This morning, I headed into the office to be one of those people.  You know the type: co-workers that cough and blow their nose and complain about coming down with a cold while the working in close proximity to other people.  Yes, right now I am one of those inconsiderate co-workers that really should go home to rest instead of exposing a bunch of innocent people to the sick bug.  I know, I know... I'm a terrible person and getting lots of bad kharma for being at work while sick.

In my defense, I didn't think this cold was going to be all that bad.  When I walked in the office at 8:30 this morning, I could still breath through my nose and wasn't tempted to bang my head open to relieve some of this sinus pressure.  With each passing minute, I am getting worse.  In fact as I type this, I am contemplating shoving tissues straight up my nostrils so that I don't have to keep blowing my nose. 

I keep saying to myself "After this email, I'll pack up and work from home."  Or "When it's 1:00, I'll go home."  Or "I'll just get some soup from the cafeteria and then I'll feel better."

I know a flu bug has been going around.  Thank god, there isn't any vomitting or diarrhea involved.  I promise that if I do puke, I will leave the office. Just after that one last email...

Miss or Mrs?

Even though we are not legally married, Neville and I often refer to each other as husband or wife.  We never correct friends or co-workers when they assume that a couple with a child and a mortgage would be a married couple.  For all intentions and purposes, we are married.  We just chose to not get legally married. 

As a career woman, those who assume that we are married don't think twice about me having my "maiden name."  And that's okay.  I don't mind when people assume we are married.  I don't mind being called Neville's wife.  I love Neville as a wife loves her husband. 

But there is one part of this whole married, but unmarried lifestyle that I never considered.

What will my child's friends call me? 

Am I Miss Robyn?  Am I Miss Roark?  Am I Mrs. <Insert Neville's Last Name>?

Darius has his father's last name just as I have my father's last name.   But since Neville and I aren't married, and all of our close friends/family know that, I wonder what I am supposed to be called?

I guess, technically, it would be Miss Robyn or Miss Roark. Ms. Roark?

With my godson and goddaughter, I have always been Auntie Robyn.  With the pediatrician, I am Mrs. <Neville's Last Name>.   At work... well, who calls anybody by anything other than a first name at work these days?

Nowadays, it isn't uncommon for women to keep their maiden name when they do get married.  Even if Neville and I had chosen a traditional path, I still would have kept my last name.  It's my name.  It's a part of my identity.  And, yes, the feminist in me thinks the whole name-changing thing is stupid when you consider the origins of the tradition. 

So even if we were married, I still would be struggling with my formal name.

And for those of you who think that children no longer need to use the formal Mr/Miss/Ms/Mrs anymore, just this week I've been called with a Miss or Mrs in by five separate families.

We haven't touched the subject with Darius about the fact that we are not legally married.  How would a four year old know what that means anyways?  He has two parents who live together, love each other, and love him.  Yes, he knows what it means to get married.  He's attended more than one wedding and it outnumbered by girls who want to play house at preschool.  I think he's just assumed that we got married before he was born.   Which is somewhat true.  After all, we were in a committed relationship before he was born. 

When I hung out with a mom-friend this week, her daughter kept calling me "Darius' Mom."  I'm thinking that's what I'll stick with until I figure this whole thing out.

The Dishonor Roll

Ah, how I love living in a digital era.  Check out the Dishonor Roll of people and businesses that supported Prop 8.

There is also a database of contribtors that allows you to see who supported Prop 8 by making monetary donations to the campaign.  I plan on personally boycotting these business (It's not like I ever cared for Denny's anyways).

This is a civil rights issue.  Just as people boycotted buses to end segregration in Montgomery, today we can boycott businesses that supported the elimination of civil rights for a group of people that are different. 

For those that still believe in the "protection of marriage,"  I urge you to watch this.

Motherhood is a pain

I apparently was living under rock this weekend when a firestorm of Moms Who Twitter attacked Motrin and their latest ad campaign about motherhood.  Or more specifically about how "baby wearing" is pain in the... back. 

If you were also living under a rock, you can watch the ad on YouTube.  Thank heavens for YouTube - Motrin has already pulled the ad online.

I've watched the ad a couple of times now.  And for the most part, I get the sarcastic tone of ad.  Sort of reminds me of the weird VW commercials with Brooke Shields.  Alright, I'll agree that it makes babywearers out to be superficial pains and is borderline condescending.  And I'm positive that Motrin and other companies will be taking a closer look at the power of social media. 

But there was also some truth to the ad.  No, I'm not talking about the part where you are an "official mom" when you "bjorn" your baby.  Motherhood is a pain.

Yes, it's a joy and a miracle and rewarding and blah blah blah.  It's also a life of headaches from listening to all those annoying toys where the batteries just never seen to run out.  It's an eternity of backaches from carrying a 22lb toddler.   I swear I have done permanent damage to my knees from all those pony rides on our hardwood floors. 

I'm sure that there were many who were pleased with Motrin's action to issue an apology and remove the ad.   While I always think that saying sorry is the best policy, I'm not sure that Motrin needed to pull the ad entirely from online and print (in their apology, they did state that getting the print ads out of circulation would take time).  Once the weekend had passed, the Twittering Moms were moving on to new tweets and there even was a the start of a backlash against those who attacked Motrin.  Was the ad in bad taste?  Yes.  Was the "offense" blown out of proportion?  Yes, I think so.

I hope that the debacle with Motrin's ad proves the power of online social media.  I would think that advertisers and marketers will now take more time to reach out to their target audience.  I would also think that mommybloggers would learn to say something more constructive than "That's offense, I'm never buying Motrin again!" 

If social media is powerful, if mommybloggers are powerful... then let's act like leaders.  Let's engage in a conversation with businesses and marketing agencies.  And let's not get our feelings hurt so darn easily.

Because, really, all this noise is just giving me a headache.

A promise is a promise

"Mom, what are you drinking?"

"A beer."

"Can I have a taste?"

"No.  This is an adult drink."

"No fair."

"It's not for kids.  You know what? When you are twenty-one you can have a sip of my beer.  Okay?"

"Hey, I have a good-er idea!  How about when I am sixty?"

"Deal.  When you are sixty you can have a sip of beer.  Hey, when you are sixty you can have anything you want!"

"YES! When I am sixty I am going to have CANDY for dinner!"

Google Analytics - Fall Edition

It has been far too long since I shared with you the keyword searches I get from Google Analytics.  Personally, I feel like if people are really searching for answers (that's the reason you google something, right?  to get answers), then it is my duty as a blogger to provide those answers.  Nothing sucks more than trying to search for something on the internet and getting 10 million hits that don't actually give you the information you need.  I feel your pain. 

Legend: Keywords are in orange.  My answers are in italics.

good-bye letter to the boss.  Copy and paste this into a word document... "Dear <Bosses Name>, I regret to inform you that I am resigning as <Job Title> from <Company Name>.  My last day is <Date>.  Best Regards, <Your Name>"  Really, you do not need to say anything else in a resignation letter not matter how nice or how nasty your boss may be. 

who is googling my name? Could be anyone from an old friend to a stalker ex-boy-friend, to a potential employer.  If it is the latter, then make sure your MySpace page doesn't show pictures of your boobs and talk about your sexual escapades, alrighty?  As a matter of fact, there really is no reason to show your body parts on the internet.

dooce is a mythical hobbit.  For the record, dooce is not a mythical hobbit.  She's just a person. I know people like to think of her as the Tom Cruise of the Blogging World - famous, crazy religion, small ass and all.  All she needed to do was jump up on the couch at BlogHer and maybe she'd be friends with Oprah right now. On a serious note, I think she's still trying to find her way through all the new celebrity.  So be nice to her.  Or at least tell her she's a really pretty hobbit with a cool blog.

i never wear pants when i hunt bosses.  okay, I need help with this one.  Is "bosses" like a code-word for some sort of animal or fish or endangered species.  And why don't you wear pants?  Are "bosses" afraid of pants?  Do you pants make that swish-swishing noise when you walk which scares of the "bosses?"

my job responsibilities don't include going to the bar.  Unless you are a bartender, cocktail waitress, or a bouncer, that's probably true.  But if your networking opportunities are happening at the bar, you should try to make it there at least some of the time.  Professional networking happens both during the office hours when you meet and work with different people and during social times.  You have to have both.  So go have one drink with the boss every now and again.  It's not gonna kill you to have one drink. 

my boss acts like a baby.  Then treat him like a baby.  Tell him his behavior isn't appropriate, to use his words, and that this isn't how he can get what he wants.  Oh, and bring him a snack.  Maybe he just needs to eat and then take a little nap.  That's what always works on my kid.

I Know What You Did Last Summer

   

This summer nearly all of our free time was spent at the pool.

Thanks to a month of private lessons paid for by Ya-Ya, Darius transformed from a kid who was comfortable in the water to complete fish. His stroke is a little strange, but he can swim laps. 

Next summer we plan on putting Darius in a summer swim league.  Will he be the next Michael Phelps?  I doubt it.  But maybe I have a future water polo player or surfer in my midst.

Honoring my Grandfathers on Veteran's Day

Both of my Grandfathers were military men.  My mom's dad (Grandpa) was a career Navy man and served in the Korean War.  My dad's dad (Grandaddy) was an MP in the Marines, got Malaria twice while stationed overseas, and was the toughest man I've ever known.    Both served in WWII.

I always loved to listen to my Grandfathers tell stories of their days serving for our country.  Grandpa was a poor farm boy from West Virginia who lied about his age to enlist in the Navy.  Never knowing when his next meal would come, he thought the Navy was the best thing that ever happened to him with 3 hot meals a day and a place to rest.  What more could a poor, hungry teenager ask for?  He loved the Navy and served for more than 20 years.

Grandaddy would tell stories about when he would have to go into bars after curfew and pull out all the drunk Marines.  He was tough as nails. In fact, he never disciplined his children for fear that he would forget they were just kids and not insubordinate Marines.

Both of my Grandfathers have passed.  But their stories remain alive in their wives and their children.  Neither ever served on the front lines of war, but knew many of the men who did.  They both talked somberly of those that gave up their lives for the freedom of this nation and the freedom of those on foreign soil. 

As a child listening to their stories of war, I am sure that they left out the gory details and talked of romantic memories about their military days.  As an adult, I realize now all of the details that they didn't share, stories that would never be re-told, the demons and nightmares being omitted to save a little girl from the real atrocities of war.

On Veteran's Day, I light a candle to my Grandpa and my Grandaddy.  I light another for the men currently serving in the war on Iraq.  And I light a third for Peace. 

May one day our world never know the horrors of war. 

A Working Mom's Rant about "Parent Participation"

My son’s preschool had a large Harvest Festival during school hours last week.  It’s two action-packed hours filled with a petting zoo, a pumpkin patch, face painting, cookie decorating, a bean-bag toss, and (the kids’ favorite) a jumpy house.  The festival is probably the biggest event for the school and relies largely on parent volunteers.  But this year, the festival nearly didn’t happen.  Less than one week from the event, not a single parent had signed up to volunteer. 

The Director sent out an email signed from “your child.”  The email was written in the voice of a child talking about how much they love the festival and how it may be canceled this year since no parents had signed up.  Even when the Director pulled the guilt-card and gave an ultimatum to cancel the event, by Friday only half of the slots were filled.  Pull at my working mother heart strings!  I feel guilty enough about sending him to preschool all day long three days a week.  Now I have to contend with knowing that if I don’t volunteer that the beloved Harvest Festival will be canceled.

I put my name down for TWO slots that very evening when I picked him up from school.

My son goes to a preschool located on-campus at a top-notch university in Silicon Valley.  Because the tuition is subsidized by the University, the school requires each family to volunteer five hours per quarter. Roughly that equals 1 hour every two weeks. If you are married, that would mean that each parent would only need to volunteer 1 hour per month.  For schools that require volunteer hours, I’d say that the requirement is nothing.  So why is that parents have a hard time stepping up?

Last year, I joined their Board of Directors to design a new website and some other marketing material for the school.  The time I’ve spent on that project (going on 15 months) has given me a free pass for volunteer hours for two years.  I don’t feel like I should have to volunteer.  Frankly, I’ve already put in my required hours plus some.  Where are the other parents and why aren’t they pulling their weight?

Here I am a full-time working mother who is juggling way too much.  I bust my butt at work to ensure no one ever puts me on the “mommy-track.”  I volunteer at my son’s school to redesign a website - something I’m not totally skilled at but no one else was willing to do.  And now I have to pull even more time out of my schedule, during work hours, to paint the adorable little faces of the children at my son’s school; knowing full well that there are families that haven’t signed up for their fair share. 

I know that I have 13 years of education for Darius that is staring at me in the face.  I'm not sure that I can handle 13 years of picking up the slack for lazy parents.  Please tell me this gets better.

Whose marriage are we "PROTECTING" anyways?

I had an entirely different post planned for today but lately haven't been able to think about much after Proposition 8 passed.  Since Wednesday, I've been ashamed to be a Californian, to be an American.  For this country and this state claim to be free from religious persecution, and then vote based on religious pursuasion to actively eliminate rights to somebody who is different from you.  That is wrong.  No matter how you try to spin it, it's wrong. 

54% of Californians voted against homosexuality by saying they were for the "protection of marriage."  Whose marriage are you protecting anyways?

It certainly isn't your own.  Last time I checked, this proposition doesn't eliminate the rights of heterosexual couples to marry.  Or for inter-racial couples to marry.  Or for Muslims or Buddhists or Hindus to marry.  YOUR marriage is already protected under the law.  YOUR marriage is still valid in this state.  NOTHING has changed for you.

Yet, you vote in favor of discrimination.  You vote in favor of religion in government.  You vote to make gays and lesbians second-class citizens.  WHY? Are you ignorant, bigoted, spiteful, angry, or misinformed? I don't understand.  Help me understand.  Please.  

This ballot really has nothing to do with marriage.  It has everything to do with equal rights.  Everyone deserves the same rights under the law.  You don't have to morally agree with "it."  Your church doesn't have to recognize "it" or be forced to officiate "it." And you already know that "it" won't be taught in schools.

For those of you who voted no against Prop 8....  For those who voted Yes and realize now that you've made a mistake.... I urge you to sign a petition against the passing of Prop 8. 

This is a battle for full civil rights, full equality, and full inclusion.  All Americans should have the same civil rights no matter their race, religion, gender, or sexuality. I thought that was established a long time ago.

This is How You Connect with Mommy Bloggers

On Sunday night, I attended a special event for Silicon Valley Mom's Group.  Yes, I've said it before and I'll say it again, SV Moms is the BEST community to be included in (and no, it isn't just because of the fun events and the awesome swag).  This event was put on by LeapFrog. 

Except for one request to get us to check out their new community site, there was no product pushing.  Sure, LeapFrog had a slew of products in the back of room - everything from Fridge Farm to Leapsters to Tag Reading System to the brand new Didj.  But that wasn't the focus of the night.  LeapFrog recognized that they way to reach moms (and we all know we control the spending in nearly every household) was to SHOW us WHY LeapFrog CARES about EDUCATION.

Instead, LeapFrog invited Dr. Anne Cunnigham lead a discussion on the importance of reading.  I twittered some of the big points of the night, but the gist of the talk was about exposing your child to rich language to improve their reading skills.  What that means for pre-K kids and younger is reading at least 30 minutes a day with a variety of books.  And if you're thinking "there is no way my three year old will still for 30 minutes." No worries.  Dr. Cunnigham suggested books on CD in the car or background at home, reading to them while the kids play, and getting older kids to read to the younger kids (double whammy, people!).  If you have older kids, read to your kids  one or two grade-levels ahead of them.  That way, they continue to get exposed to new words. 

We had a great discussion talking about everything from kids who started reading early, to bilingual kids who seem to be falling behind their single-language friends (don't worry, they will catch up), to the importance of the 3rd grade.  I didn't even know the 3rd grade was important.  But apparently (and this was backed-up  by the two 3rd grade teachers in the room), Third Grade is when reading curriculum moves away from phonics and focuses on vocabulary.  Children who haven't been exposed to a diverse vocabulary can easily fall behind.  As early as the fourth grade, children basically decide if they will be lifeline readers based on their confidence level in reading.  So the more you expose your kids to rich vocabulary, the better readers they will become. 

And this is where LeapFrog comes into play.  Without ever pushing a product down our throats, we learned about the importance of reading.   LeapFrog is committed to creating products that challenge kids to read in a fun, interactive way.  For me, the night wasn't about the products.  It wasn't about LeapFrog.  It was about getting a group of moms together to discuss a topic that is important to us (educating our children)... and just so happens to be important to LeapFrog. 

At the end of the discussion, LeapFrog passed out goody bags for all the moms with toys appropriate to the ages of our children.  How cool is that?  I asked more questions about products and was more willing to give my opinion on products we already owned (like the fab Word Whammer) because I knew that the night wasn't about selling us on LeapFrog.  It was about showing us LeapFrog's passion for getting children exposed to reading skills. 

When I arrived home, I was giddy with excitement about the new LeapFrog toys that "Santa" will be bringing to our house this year.  I know that Darius is going to love them.  Now if only I can hold out until then.  We were a LeapFrog family before this event, but we are for sure die-hard supporters now. 

Four going on Fourteen

The scene: Darius is getting ready for school.  He puts on a camo long-sleeve shirt under a camo short-sleeve shirt.  Pulls on brown pants and then puts on his brown belt OVER his shirt.

"Do you need help putting your belt through your belt loops?"

"No, I like it like this."

"I don't mind helping"

"I said it's fine, mom."

Shoves a stuffed animal between the belt and his shirt

"What's the panda for?"

"I'm an Army-man. "

"Oh, I didn't know Army men carried pandas."

Ignores me while looking at himself in the mirror

"Seriously, what's the panda for?"

Walks away while rolling his eyes and shaking his head

Why I Voted for Obama

It's no secret that I was a Hillary Clinton supporter.  As a woman, I was thrilled to finally be able to vote for a qualified person that shares my gender.  As a feminist, I was hopeful that we would finally break through the glass ceiling that has oppressed women since the founding of this great country.  So needless to say, I was disappointed when Hillary called it quits and asked her supporters to join the ranks of the Obama camp. 

I know that many people assume I am a Democrat.  In fact, I am not.  I am an independent.  I do not believe in "big government."  I am fiscally conservative.  I don't want my taxes raised. While I believe in many of the federal social programs and those offered in California, I also believe that major finance reform is necessary in this country. 

I also believe in reproductive freedom, gay marriage, and the death penalty.  I think Affirmative Action should still be in place in California.  I think we need to tighten immigration in this country and properly deal with the tremendous amount of illegals (and not by granting them amnesty).  I believe that education funding should never be allowed to be cut or reduced.  And I think private-school vouchers are a stupid way of dealing with an education problem.

In other words, I don't fall neatly into either the Republican or the Democrat camp.  I'm in that independent category that all Presidential candidates are supposed to be woo-ing over to their side.

When Hillary said to support Obama, I didn't just blindly say "Okay, whatever you say!"  I looked at both sides - McCain and Obama.  Until McCain literally slapped every woman in the face by announcing Sarah Palin as his running-mate.

Did McCain think that women are really that stupid?  Sarah Palin is no Hillary Clinton.  Palin has little experience, no foreign relations, and stands up for many hard-core conservative issues.  Sure, she was a woman and a working mother.  But it takes more than uterus to get my vote.  I could see that this was a desperate attempt by McCain to get both female voters and the conservative-Right voters that he has alienated year after year.

Still not entirely enamored with Obama, I watched all of the debates.  I watched as McCain acted like a grumpy old man when Obama spoke of McCain's alignment with the Bush Administration.  I watched as Sarah Palin arrogantly refused to answer the moderator's questions and push her own agenda.  I watched Obama speak about a real attempt at a healthcare plan for the uninsured.  I listened to Obama's tax plan.  I listened to McCain who kept trying to dodge that it would be "more of the same" without actually talking about how he would truly fix the economy or get us out of Iraq. 

I also know that both of these candidates already may not be able to live up to their campaign promises due to the credit crisis in this country.  The first year of this new Presidency will be consumed with avoiding a major recession or, worse, a depression. 

And so, I decided that I don't want a President who's weakness is economic policy.  I don't want a President that thinks "staying the course" in Iraq is acceptable.  I don't want a President who is going to tax my employer-provided healthcare benefits. 

My vote goes to Obama.  This country needs a change.  Big Time. When I casted my vote there was a part of me that wished I was selecting my preferred candidate, Hillary Clinton. But Obama will do.  Yes, we can change.  Yes, we can recover from these hard times.  Yes, we can send our troops home. 

Yes We Can.

Halloween at Who's the Boss?

30 trick or treaters at the door

1 adult asking for candy

4 teens not even in costume

2 1/2 hours Darius walked around our neighborhood in his Storm Trooper costume

3 1/2 pounds of candy I need to dispose of before I eat it all

2 tips to have the Halloween Fairy come and take it call away 

3 pumpkins carved - 1 Skeleton, 1 Jack o Lantern, and 1 Storm Trooper

9 requests to have a piece of candy before breakfast

5 suggestions of what his costume can be next year

Happy Halloween

"Storm Troopers are fun because they get guns. Light Sabers are for pansies."

"What? I don't get my own gun??? The Emperor (aka Mom) says that I'll just have to improvise."

"Think I'll get more candy if I flash 'em with a killer smile?"

No on Prop 4

There are times in which I am glad I haven't given birth to a daughter.  And when it comes to discussing birth control and abortion, I know that the same talk should be given to my son as would be given had he been born a girl.  But the truth of the matter, whether we want to admit it or not, is that reproductive responsibilities are burdened on the female species. 

Our bodies, our choices.  While some men may claim that reproductive rights should be a decision that fathers gets to make too, we women will bear the children and, in most cases, be the primary caregivers.  Is this fair?  No, not at all.  But it's reality. 

As a grown woman, if I get pregnant, I can choose to have an abortion without a single family member knowing about it.  If I was molested or raped, I wouldn't have to tell my parents or my neighbor or my spouse that I sought an abortion because I have the right to my body and my privacy.

In California, for the third time, there is a proposition that is trying to remove that right for teen girls.  The proposition imposes a 48-hr waiting period where a parent or guardian will be notified of the teen's request to have an abortion. 

And while you may think that if your teen daughter was ever in this position that you would want to know and you would want to be there for her, remember that your teen still has the ability to come forward and tell you.  We do not need to make laws for communicating to our minor teens.

Think about the girls who don't have a great relationship with their parents.  Girls who may have been raped by their own fathers or a family member.  Girls whose families are so religious that they will force her to remain pregnant.

Prop 4 cannot force teens to talk to their parents, but it may force them to do something dangerous out of desperation.  Under the guise of protecting teenage girls, Prop 4 is really the latest attempt to impose restrictions on reproductive freedom.

Californians did the right thing in 2005 and 2006 by voting No on similar propositions.  Let's defeat this campaign once and for all. 

Yes on Prop 2

 All of my Grandparents were rasied on farms.  They always had animals that would be put up for slaughter.  It was a way of life.  But they never were cruel to their animals.  They didn't keep their animals in cages barely bigger than the animal.  Animals were allowed to stand up and *gasp* even be able to walk around.

I'm not saying that animals that are raised for food should be treated like our pets.  But every animal deserves to live a humane life.

The stories of my grandparents are similar to the stories of small farmers today.  I believe it's the factory farms that care more about their profits than they do about animal welfare or public health. 

Proposition 2 prevents animal cruelty, plain and simple. Beginning in 2015, pregnant pigs, calves raised for veal, and egg-laying hens will not be confined in manner that does not allow them to turn around freely, lie down, stand up, and full extend their limbs.  It gives these factory farms 7 years to replace their severe confinement methods with human practices. 

Food quality and food safety are enhanced by better farming practices.  The price of an egg will only go up one PENNY.  I think every Californian can afford a penny increase to know that the hen laying the egg is humanely treated.

No on Prop 8

A "Yes" vote on Proposition 8 changes the California Constitution to eliminate the right of same-sex couples to marry but stipulating that only marriage between a man and a woman is valid or recognized in California.  In a nutshell, Proposition 8 discriminates against the GLBT community by eliminating equal rights under the law. 

Equality under the law is a fundamental freedom. Regardless of your personal or religious views on marriage, we all deserve to have the same rights as law abiding citizens.  No one group should be singled out and treated differently under the law. 

America has a long tainted past of discriminating against minorities in this country.  We have shameful history of promoting a "separate but equal" stance to continue to discriminate against those different from ourselves.  Whether it has been people of color, women, and those with different religious views, those in the majority have not always acted with the interests of the people. This is the reason why we have checks and balances in our government. 

Voting Yes on Prop 8 does not mean that you are keeping the sanctity of marriage.  In fact, the court ruling on gay marriage already stated that “no religion will be required to change its religious policies or practices with regard to same-sex couples, and no religious officiant will be required to solemnize a marriage in contravention of his or her religious beliefs.”  Your church does not have to marry gay couples and  tax-exemption is not at risk. 

The government has no business telling people who can and cannot get married.  We do NOT need more government in our lives. 

For those planning on voting Yes on Prop 8, I urge you to think of the gay and lesbians in your life that you are discriminating against.  I urge you to think of your children.  What if they fall in love with a person of the same sex?  Don't you want them to have the same rights as you?  Doesn't every person have the right to dignity and respect with the same freedoms as every other Californian?

Do not vote to take away the equality, freedom, and fairness that everyone in Calfornia - straight or gay - deserves.  Vote No on Prop 8.

Political Week at "Who's the Boss?"

With the Presidential Election just days away and some very important Props on the California ballot, this week I’ll be focusing on everything political. I will not apologize for my “liberal” views and encourage a healthy debate.  I ask that everyone keeps their hands to themselves - no mud slinging or throwing punches across the aisle.  I will be closely moderating comments and will delete any that are offensive.  After all, this is my blog and we’ve already established that I am The Boss. 

The wonderful part of the political process is that each and every single person can make their voice heard.  So let’s be civil, let’s debate the issues, and then let’s all go vote on November 4th. 

Have you ever been Sexually Harassed?

I'm over at Work It, Mom today talking about sexual harassment in the workplace.  A manager at the company I work for was recently fired for harassing one of his employees. 

I’m willing to put money on it that, if asked, nearly every working woman could cite an experience of being harassed in the workplace.  Whether it was the creepy guy who always started at your breasts, or the drunken co-worker who tried to take things to another level at the company holiday party, or the man who thought that keeping a calendar of scantily-clad women on his desk was perfectly acceptable.

Come on over and share your experiences.  

The More Things Change, the More They Stay the Same

One of my childhood friends sent me this photo: 

That's me, Katie, and Shannon on our first day of seventh grade.  I am the one on the left with big permed bob.  My hair was awesome, people.  AWESOME.  And I am wearing an Espirit skort. I have on Sam and Libby ballet flats too.

That's Katie's mom's hatchback next to me.  We were so frickin' cool that we didn't have to walk to school. 

I remember feeling like such a grown-up on the first day of Junior High.  I also remember feeling incredibly nervous.  I would be making new friends and have a different teacher for every class.  I remember being so nervous about finding my way around the school - what if I got lost and, god forbid, was tardy? The goodie-two-shoes in me was practically getting an ulcer from the stress of the passing period.  Then there was gym class where you had to change into your PE uniform in front of other girls.  So embarrassing. 

Seventh grade was the year that I had my first boyfriend.  Had my first real kiss.  Attended my first school dance.  Seventh grade was the year that I had my first fight with my best friend. It was the year that I got to go on my first "group date" - my dad let me and five other friends see a movie while he watched a different one.  Seventh grade was also the year that I took Journalism and found a love for writing.  

In some ways, seventh grade feels like a lifetime ago.  And in others, it feels like it was just yesterday.  I look at my life now: successful career, good mother, home owner, responsible citizen.  And yet there is still a part of me that feels like that young adolescent.  Hoping to fit in, wanting to make friends, unsure of myself, questioning my every move. 

Some say childhood is the best time of your life.  Others say that you spend your while life trying to get over your childhood.  For me, I think it is a little of both. 

Except now, I wouldn't be caught dead in a skort.