Who's The Boss?

My Mom is... Nice

Those were the words written on my Mother's Day card, an art project from my son's preschool class.  "My mom is" was written by the teacher and my son had filled in the word "nice."

The card has sat on my desk ever since the Mother's Day Breakfast his school hosted for it's moms.  Every time I look at it, I think "Really?  This is what he thinks of me? That I'm nice?"

Don't get me wrong, I'm thrilled that my kid didn't say something embarrassing like the one mom who had to walk around with a "Mom is a... cougar" card.  We'll never know if her son was referring to her fierceness or her preference in men. 

But Nice?  I'm nice? 

Continue reading at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

It takes a village

Around this time last year, I spent a week in San Francisco on business.  Even though I live in Silicon Valley, my manager and I agreed that the commute was too much for the long hours I was going to work so I booked a week a four-star hotel in the city and went on my merry way. 

I am a Bay Area native and have heard new reports practically my whole life about the "homeless problem" in San Francisco.  When I was newly licensed driver, my dad took me to the city to make sure that I didn't get lost and end up in a bad neighborhood.  Every time I have come to San Francisco, I have seen people living on the streets.  But something about this business trip made me more aware of the issue.  Instead of seeing well dressed financial folks and wide-eyed tourists, I could not take my eyes off the people of the streets.

In fact, my week in San Francisco has haunted me ever since.

I watched a disabled veteran get into a scuffle with a gawking tourist.  I saw men older than my father sleep on the street.  For all the women dressed in glamorous clothes as they power walk to their high-profile job, there was as many homeless women wearing the only clothes they own.  There was more than one man in a wheelchair and a woman asking for money with a baby on her hip.  An elderly man was drinking from a brown paper bag while he sat on the steps of a church. 

My heart raced when I walked down a street where a group of homeless are clustered.  I am not used to this.  It's uncomfortable.  I was afraid.  When did they become the enemy?  Something to be feared instead of someone to save?

Continue reading at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Are you passionate about your job?

I am a Project Manager.  Well, my official title is "Senior Initiative Manager" because instead of managing projects I manage large cross-organizational initiatives that are designed to improve the company's back-office operations.

Are you totally lost yet?  Because that sentence is the sentence I practically read verbatim whenever anyone asks me what I do for a living.  And somewhere between "Initiative Manager" and "cross-organizational," I can see a person's eyes gloss over and a look of confusion start to build. 

Explaining my job is difficult.  There aren't a lot of people that run the type of projects I run.  My job is equal parts Sales Ops, IT Systems, and Process Improvement.  In a nutshell, I find gaps in a process that make booking a sale or renewing a contract more difficult than it should be and then I rally the right people to make changes.

One part cheerleader, one part mother hen, one part squeaky wheel.

That's my job.  Seriously.  I just wrote the same on my resume.

And while I appreciate my job and find it rewarding when we finally make progress, this isn't a job I am passionate about. There is no passion in Project Management. 

Don't forget to wear sunscreen

My dad has been battling skin cancer for the last two years.  What started as a reddish patch the size of a quarter on his collar bone has led to tests and biopsies that revealed just beneath the surface basal cell carcinoma covering his entire chest.  He has more on his forehead and a couple on his bald spot too (not that he'll admit to those).   His dermatologist has prescribed a smart cream to kill the cancer cells as there are more cancer cells than normal skin cells on the right side of his chest.  An operation would be a physical nightmare. 

When I was growing up, my dad put sunscreen on us kids.  Our fair Irish skin would burn so easily.  In fact my brother had 2nd degree burns and blisters on his shoulders after a swimming all day at the Cabana Club with no sunscreen.  My parents never made that mistake again. 

While my dad was diligent about making sure we didn't burn, he never put on sunscreen himself.  Unless coconut oil and Tropicana SPF 4 counts as protection. 

Continue reading at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

Sex after baby? That's just crazy

A former co-worker turned close friend called me recently to discuss motherhood.  She had a gorgeous baby boy six months ago and recently returned to work.  I figured when she said she needed my advice that she’d be asking about how to pump at work or quick and easy dinner recipes.

Oh no.  She wanted to talk about sex.  Or rather, wanted to know when she’d be interested in sex again.  She was exhausted from nursing, exhausted from working full-time, and exhausted from life in general.  Sex was just one more thing on her “to-do” list and she didn’t care if that got checked off.

Sex after a baby?  Now that’s just crazy.

Read more at the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog

a new spin on gender equality

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

What? You've never heard of such a thing.  I'll give you a hint.  Someone in the media started calling male nannies "mannies." Now everything that is typically female-centric but has a few token men getting involved has to be re-branded man-whatever.

Manimony is alimony for men.  More and more men are asking (and getting) alimony from their high powered ex-wives.

Neville thinks these guys are heroes while I have a gut reaction that I'm not proud of. Come on over and check it out.

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. 

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. 

Considerate Commuting

Cross-Posted from the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog...

Bay Area Commuters, can we chat for a minute?  I’ve noticed that since the majority of you have returned from summer vacation you’ve forgotten a thing or two about commuting on the worst freeways in California.  I’m not holding it against you that you weren’t around with me this summer.  In fact, summer is my favorite time of the school year.  Less cars, less traffic, less time to commute to work.  But now that we are all back to school, let’s review how to be a considerate commuter.

The Art of Merging
On-coming Commuters, you cannot expect to merge when you are going 25 miles an hour on a freeway with a 65mph speed limit.  Get up to speed as quick as you can.  You scare the sh*t out of us drivers already on the road. And while we are at it, don’t be trying to cut all the way to the front of the lane by driving on the side of the road.  It is unsafe, illegal, and annoying.

Drivers on the Road, please give those who are merging onto the freeway a little room.  Really, it is not a race.  You don’t have to snub the competition.  Give yourself some good karma and let another car in.  But you don’t have to let every single car in.  If you let five cars in a row in front of you, you will actually get bad karma from all the drivers who haven’t moved behind you. 

The Carpool Lane
Drivers of the Carpool Lane, last time I checked you were still bound by the same speed limit laws.  So slow down a little.  I know the excitement you feel when getting to pass all those suckers other drivers who don’t have a carpool buddy.  But riding on my a$$ when I am going the speed limit is excessive. With power comes responsibility, so take a chill pill and don’t let the power of the carpool lane get to you. 

Keep it Clean
Real people with real feelings are driving behind the wheel. These people are mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. Yes, you may think that they are all royal idiots but really you don't have to scream, curse, give the birdie or embody the a$$hole you are calling the other driver. Take a deep breath, listen to the smooth jazz station, put some aromatherapy bath salts in your car.

And if you truly can't stop from being the terror on the freeway... take the train.

Original Post for the Silicon Valley Mom's Blog.