Blog: December 2006
The Gold Mine
BOYNTON BEACH MEMORIES...
Let me just state for the record that when something tragic, sad or depressing hits my family, I usually find that humor is a great way to deal with disaster. And so, this past week, when my husband, kids and I raced to Boynton Beach, Florida after hearing that my dad had a heart attack (read Role Mommy Confessions for the story) I discovered what I believe to be the birthplace of Jewish comedy as we now know it. Yes, the borscht belt is alive and well in a remote retirement hub in Florida and the undercover mom mined for some golden nuggets while she was immersed in a family crisis.
DEFIBRILLATOR PERSON OF THE MONTH
The comedy gems were subtle at first. Like the sign we encountered as we approached the front desk at my parents' development in Palm Isles to get the kids guest passes for the pool. Perched atop the receptionist's desk was a sign that read "Defibrillator Person of the Month." Now who exactly gets this kind of honor bestowed upon them? The person who defibrillates the most senior citizens in 30 days? Or is it the unsuspecting guy who is suffering from a nasty case of heartburn that's defibrillated upon? You know you've hit the retirement scene when they're honoring the defibrillator person. What I later learned was that each month, a new person is trained on the defibrillator so if you're having chest pains or want to freak some people out, just give a jingle over to the defibrillator person and he'll come a running.
COFFEE TALK
Before we headed over to the hospital, we hit the Palm Isle cafe where all the yentas and kibbitzers were congregrating and conversating. As they noshed on bagels, omelets and lox, I started to give a listen.
"I heard that while Neil (my dad) was lying there on the tennis court and the players on the other court just kept on hitting. Can you believe it?"
A few feet over I eavesdropped on a table of eight chatting loudly about my dad's condition. "You know, he even visited his doctor before he came down to Florida and that bastard gave him a clean bill of health. Can you believe it?"
THE SHOW MUST GO ON
In addition to being an avid tennis player, my dad is quite the thespian and this year he has a pretty meaty role in the latest Palm Isles Players tour de force. So when he was holed up in his hospital bed, the director's phone began ringing off the hook.
"Hello Myron. What can I do for you?"
"You know Phyllis, if Neil can't do the show because of his condition, I can do a mean fox trot."
HEY THERE GORGEOUS
While waiting to be checked out of the hospital, my dad wanders to the front desk to ask the name of the internist on duty who can give him a clean bill of health.
"His name is Dr. Gorgeous."
"You mean you don't have a Dr. McDreamy in this place?"
OVERHEARD ON THE HOSPITAL P.A. SYSTEM
Paging Dr. Suck Up. Paging Dr. Suck Up.
A SEINFELD MOMENT AT FLAKOWITZ BAKERY
"I'd like to order lox, whitefish, cream cheese, tuna salad..."
"Not so fast - I can't remember that well," says the elderly man taking orders.
After asking the customer what else he needs, he replies,
"I just need the bagels now."
"Oh, we're running kind of low on those. How about a babka?"
IRV AND IRENE FARBISSINA (SOURPUSS)
As my mom and I are waiting on line in the bakery section at Publix, a heavyset bald man speeds by in his motorized wheel chair while his wife calls out to him.
"Irv - should we get a pie?"
"NO!!!" Irv scowls back.
When a friendly woman walks over to look at the pies too, she asks Mrs. Farbissina,
"Are there any sugar free pies over there?"
"How should I know? Do I look like I work here?" Irene shrugs.
Incidentally, I discovered on this trip that Jerry Seinfeld's mother lived down the street from my parents in Palm Isles and Larry David's parents lived in Sunrise - where my aunt and uncle used to live. Now I know why they were both comedy geniuses - they got 3/4 of their material from the yentas and the kibbitzers down in Florida!!! Now that Seinfeld is in syndication, I've officially assigned my mother comedy dictation duties. Anytime she observes something hilarious, she's instructed to write it down and send it my way. So have no fear, there's plenty more tales to tell from the shores of Boynton Beach and I can't wait to uncover them!
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Posted in: Blog, Undercover Mom on 12/27/2006
Overheard...
This joke comes straight from my seven-year-old... What has four wheels and flies? (Usual answer...an airplane?) Nope...a GARBAGE TRUCK! And a question from my four-year-old after the death of our cat... Do you think Oliver's eyes stayed open so that he could watch TV in heaven? Another doozy from the four-year old... Mommy - I had really good balls at the bowling alley today. --------Posted in: Blog, Kiddy Commentary on 12/27/2006
I Feel Bad About My Neck...by Nora Ephron
I know that I normally review books about moms waxing poetic about their harried lives or British chick lit writers whose lives seem far more interesting than mine, but it's almost the New Year and I've decided to take a departure. Somehow, my recent trip to Florida to see my folks has made me ponder the thought of aging. And who better to provide a glimpse into what it's really going to be like when I hit retirement age than Nora Ephron.
I've always loved her movies - in fact, I have a Sleepless in Seattle poster on the wall of my office and I am a total Sally (ie. "When Harry Met Sally") who orders everything with dressing and sauce on the side so naturally, as soon as I started to read I Feel Bad About My Neck as I was soaking in a hot tub because I was battling a bad cold, I felt like I had finally been given a really great Hannukah present - okay - my holiday is over but I really didn't buy anything good for myself this year so this is my gift to myself for those 8 hectic nights...but I digress.
Ephron shares her laugh out loud thoughts about everything from plastic surgery to purses to parenting and all with deadpan humor, incredible descriptions and real life moments that'll have you smiling from start to finish. She even talks about a private moment with JFK, her secret crush on a famous restaurant critic and how hair dye has transformed her life. I still have about 40 pages to go - savoring this quick read for my next tub soak, and all I can say is that no matter your age, this book is great for anyone who can appreciate the truth about aging packaged with an overdose of humor. To order I Feel Bad About My Neck, Click Here.
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Posted in: Blog, Book Club on 12/27/2006
Funeral for a Friend
I'm about to take a departure from the usual laugh out loud columns that I try to write every week. You see, unfortunately, my family and I have had quite the roller coaster week. It started with our beloved cat Oliver, who has been sick for quite some time now and we thought last Tuesday that his number had finally come up. And so, after breaking the news to our kids, Darin took the ailing feline to the vet who told him that he could still hang on for a few more weeks. When my daughter came home from school later that day, she was thrilled to see that Oliver hadn't left us yet and she lavished him with attention and kisses.
As we all got ready for bed that night, the phone rang. Darin answered and right away from his voice and the look on his face, I knew something was up. "Beth, it's your mom. Something happened with your dad."
At this point, in sheer panic, I grabbed the phone and found out that my dad, an athletic guy of 66 whose favorite past time is tennis, golf, acting and nudging my mom, had suffered a heart attack earlier in the day. My mom tried to hide the fear in her voice as she assured me that everything was okay and that I didn't have to come down to Florida. I instantly told my mom that I was planning to see my dad for myself and raced down to my computer to book us on the next flight out.
I spent the night crying hysterically because I didn't have the chance to speak with my dad (visiting hours were over for the night) and couldn't sleep until I spoke with him the next morning. While dad sounded okay, you could tell he was a bit nervous - he had already had one procedure the day before but had to go in for another one the next day so he still wasn't out of the woods. I told him we'd be there that afternoon and I could tell he was getting all teary-eyed on the other end right after I told him I loved him.
With our two kids in tow - who were both under the impression that Grandpa had broken his leg or had an accident on the tennis court, we hopped on our flight, made it to Florida - and went straight to the hospital with my mom - who hugged me tight and whispered "I'm glad you're here" the moment we arrived. When we got to the hospital, dad was his usual jovial self - cracking jokes, making small talk, showing the kids how to use the remote on the TV - he seemed just fine - except for the tubes coming out of his arms and the mint green hospital gown.
The next day, my mom and I returned to the hospital to find that dad had already been brought to the CATH lab for what we thought was going to be another procedure to place a stent in his artery - instead he wound up with an angioplasty. While in the waiting room, we had the most surreal encounter. A little back story to clarify why we think we had a visit from the spirit world. You see, the year before I was born my grandfather, Benjamin Goldman, suffered a heart attack. When he was admitted to the hospital, my grandmother and my mom were told that he would be okay and that they wanted to keep him overnight for observation. That night, my grandfather had another massive coronary and died in his sleep. My mom, had this experience weighing on her thoughts throughout this entire experience and I knew that as strong as my dad is, there was always a chance that something could go wrong - and mom felt the same way too. But then the waiting room incident happened.
As we sat down in our seats, I looked across the room at a woman whose name tag said Lenore Goldman. Okay - so why is that eery, you ask? Well, my mom's name is Lenore. And her maiden name, if you're following the story from before, is Goldman. For the very first time in her life, my mom came face to face with a woman who shared her name - on the same day her husband was to go in for a heart procedure. Even stranger - now this one my husband says is a stretch - but Lenore Goldman's husband's name was Bernie. My grandfather - Bennie. So my interpretation of this experience was that my grandma Dora and my grandpa Benjamin wanted to give my mom a sign that they were there with her too and that everything would be okay.
They wheeled my dad out of surgery about a half hour later and when we finally got to see him, he was a bit woozy from the medication and kept repeating himself a few times. But that was quite alright. My dad was okay and I was eternally grateful. We spent the afternoon with dad, sharing funny stories - the crazy encounter in the waiting room and just relishing the fact that he had survived and everything would go back to normal again. Dad received phone calls and visitors all day and you could tell that he too was relieved that he was on the mend.
While he did have to spend one more day in the hospital (his blood pressure dropped in the middle of the night and he had had an arrythmia) he did get to go home on Saturday and was greeted with Welcome Home signs created by his grandchildren. Although he still felt a bit winded doing the smallest activity - like picking up the morning paper from outside, dad was almost back to his old self. He even broke out into song - practicing one of the numbers he'd be performing in March with the Palm Isle Players.
As quickly as we jetted into be with Dad, we hastily made our plans to return so that we could be with Darin's family for Christmas. We flew back on Sunday and saw that our cat Oliver was still alive (barely) and we all stood around him to pet him. Actually, I grabbed all the sheets off the couch and the wing chair because he had soiled everything around him, but he was still around, so the kids were happy.
On Christmas Day, we visited Darin's cousins for their annual get together and when we returned home, we arrived to find that Oliver had passed away. Rebecca was devastated - although she did ask if we could get another pet quickly after our beloved cat expired. Since we didn't have to bring him to the vet to be put to sleep we now had to figure out funeral arrangements. Rebecca wanted us to bury him in a pet cemetary and we quickly convinced her that we'd find a shady spot in the backyard and that would be Oliver's final resting place. And so, on December 26, the Feldman family had a funeral for a friend. Oliver Feldman, who passed away on Christmas Day along with James Brown I might add, was swaddled in a baby towel and buried in our backyard. Darin said a few words of wisdom, Dylan said his goodbyes, I blew a kiss and Rebecca told him that she loved him. And Rudy, the cat who had just lost his brother to cancer, watched high above from our window and scurried out of sight when we all came back inside.
And that was my week and what I've come to think is a major lesson on life. Never take anyone for granted - tell your family members that you love them - even when they're driving you nuts. Life is too short - and when you lose a pet, involve everyone in the process - I really didn't know how to teach my kids about dying but they experienced it this weekend, shed some tears and then we went to go see "Charlotte's Web." Quite simply, life does in fact go on. Now for the funnier side of our adventure in Boynton Beach, check out the Undercover Mom.
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Posted in: Blog, Role Mommy Confessions on 12/26/2006
Stroller Fascists by Joanne Rendell
While we are on the subject of strollers, I have an ax to grind. One very big, shiny, murderous ax which needs to be ground and ground and ground and?
You guessed it, I?m angry.
Today, while I was battling my way through the mayhem of New York Holiday shoppers and found myself jostled and shoved on a horribly busy crosswalk, I accidentally nipped a guy?s heels with Benny?s stroller. Even though the wheels are spindly and plastic and probably wouldn?t hurt a Chihuahua if they struck one, I dutifully shouted out my apologies. The man simply puffed on his cigarette, looked at me like I was Chihuahua poo, and swaggered onward in his 300 dollar jeans. The next moment, as I contemplated the stick-up-their-ass-ness of too many New Yorkers, I was jostled by the eager crowds behind me. Once again the stroller nipped smoking man?s heel. After I?d recovered from the jolt that pushed me into him in the first place and was about to shout out my second apology, the man turned on me.
?Once,? he hissed, his eyes scornful and his mouth puckered, ?But, twice??
Then with a flick of his head, he ignored my fumbling apology, and pushed off through the crowds. Of course, as soon as was gone, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment, anger, and indignation. Why had I been so lame? Why did I mumble and blush? Why didn?t I say something dismissive and rude back to him? In fact, why didn?t I pick up the stroller (with Benny inside) and crack it over the back of his head shouting, ?And one for your head!?
Okay, I know the man had some right to be angry at being nipped (and I really mean nipped here, I didn?t exactly take the guy down) by a stroller a couple of times. But, cheesh, surely he could see I wasn?t entirely to blame. Could he not see I was battling among hoards of bag-laden shoppers with a rickety stroller and a hungry three year old? Could he not see that I?d just gone out for some milk and was simply trying to get across a busy, death-trap, car-honking Broadway to go home again? (okay, I concede he might not have been able to see that).
I think it made me mad mostly because it reminded me how inconsiderate people can be when it comes to strollers. There is way too much stroller inconsideration going on in this world. In fact, every time I leave the house with Benny in the stroller, I come face to face with a member of the ?stroller inconsiderati.? Indeed, there are so many stroller inconsideratis out there, I?m now able to classify them into species.
Most common are the cross walk hogs. These are the people who, when I am waiting to cross the street, pass beside me and then promptly stand in front of the stroller. Then, when the walk sign glows, they dally across the road leaving me to dither this way and that as I try to get around them.
Second, there are the cell phone wanderers. These people are closely related to the cross walk hogs. They overtake me on the sidewalk as they chitter on their cells only to then swerve and bob in front of the stroller. Meanwhile, I trail behind flicking the stroller to and fro trying to avoid nipping their heels (and we know what trouble that gets me in).
Third, there?s the stroller blind. These people whisk by me as I try and haul Benny and his stroller up and down the stairs to the subway or in and out of heavy doors to shops. They do not see the stroller, they don?t offer a helping hand, and quite often they let doors slam in our faces
Fourth, there are the chicken players. These are the most daring of the stroller inconsiderati species. Unlike the stroller blind, they see strollers. Oh yes, they definitely see them and they dare themselves to play bold games of chicken with oncoming strollers. If they see a baby and a carriage coming their way, they walk straight toward them. They never, never, move off track and in the final moments, just as contact is about to be made, it is up to the stroller pusher to maneuver quickly around the death-defying chicken player.
And finally, there are the out-and-out stroller fascists. These are the folks who tut, huff, or even swear if a stroller so much as looks at them. If it blocks their way, or comes into a fancy store they might own, or holds them up when they want to exit a busy train, it?s not pretty. They let you know with their sneers or their biting words where you and your stroller belong.
Today?s snooty-pooty man, with his expensive jeans and foul smelling cigarette, has (I?m sorry to say) the makings of a stroller fascist. And what I?d like to say to him ? and the rest of the stroller inconsiderati out there ? is this. ?Strollers contain kids. Kids grow up. And it is these kids who, in the future, are going to be making your jeans and selling your cigarettes. In fact, they are going to be pushing your wheelchairs when you?re too infirm to walk. So, please, treat them and their four-wheeled carriages with some consideration!?
Okay, I feel so much better now.
You guessed it, I?m angry.
Today, while I was battling my way through the mayhem of New York Holiday shoppers and found myself jostled and shoved on a horribly busy crosswalk, I accidentally nipped a guy?s heels with Benny?s stroller. Even though the wheels are spindly and plastic and probably wouldn?t hurt a Chihuahua if they struck one, I dutifully shouted out my apologies. The man simply puffed on his cigarette, looked at me like I was Chihuahua poo, and swaggered onward in his 300 dollar jeans. The next moment, as I contemplated the stick-up-their-ass-ness of too many New Yorkers, I was jostled by the eager crowds behind me. Once again the stroller nipped smoking man?s heel. After I?d recovered from the jolt that pushed me into him in the first place and was about to shout out my second apology, the man turned on me.
?Once,? he hissed, his eyes scornful and his mouth puckered, ?But, twice??
Then with a flick of his head, he ignored my fumbling apology, and pushed off through the crowds. Of course, as soon as was gone, my cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment, anger, and indignation. Why had I been so lame? Why did I mumble and blush? Why didn?t I say something dismissive and rude back to him? In fact, why didn?t I pick up the stroller (with Benny inside) and crack it over the back of his head shouting, ?And one for your head!?
Okay, I know the man had some right to be angry at being nipped (and I really mean nipped here, I didn?t exactly take the guy down) by a stroller a couple of times. But, cheesh, surely he could see I wasn?t entirely to blame. Could he not see I was battling among hoards of bag-laden shoppers with a rickety stroller and a hungry three year old? Could he not see that I?d just gone out for some milk and was simply trying to get across a busy, death-trap, car-honking Broadway to go home again? (okay, I concede he might not have been able to see that).
I think it made me mad mostly because it reminded me how inconsiderate people can be when it comes to strollers. There is way too much stroller inconsideration going on in this world. In fact, every time I leave the house with Benny in the stroller, I come face to face with a member of the ?stroller inconsiderati.? Indeed, there are so many stroller inconsideratis out there, I?m now able to classify them into species.
Most common are the cross walk hogs. These are the people who, when I am waiting to cross the street, pass beside me and then promptly stand in front of the stroller. Then, when the walk sign glows, they dally across the road leaving me to dither this way and that as I try to get around them.
Second, there are the cell phone wanderers. These people are closely related to the cross walk hogs. They overtake me on the sidewalk as they chitter on their cells only to then swerve and bob in front of the stroller. Meanwhile, I trail behind flicking the stroller to and fro trying to avoid nipping their heels (and we know what trouble that gets me in).
Third, there?s the stroller blind. These people whisk by me as I try and haul Benny and his stroller up and down the stairs to the subway or in and out of heavy doors to shops. They do not see the stroller, they don?t offer a helping hand, and quite often they let doors slam in our faces
Fourth, there are the chicken players. These are the most daring of the stroller inconsiderati species. Unlike the stroller blind, they see strollers. Oh yes, they definitely see them and they dare themselves to play bold games of chicken with oncoming strollers. If they see a baby and a carriage coming their way, they walk straight toward them. They never, never, move off track and in the final moments, just as contact is about to be made, it is up to the stroller pusher to maneuver quickly around the death-defying chicken player.
And finally, there are the out-and-out stroller fascists. These are the folks who tut, huff, or even swear if a stroller so much as looks at them. If it blocks their way, or comes into a fancy store they might own, or holds them up when they want to exit a busy train, it?s not pretty. They let you know with their sneers or their biting words where you and your stroller belong.
Today?s snooty-pooty man, with his expensive jeans and foul smelling cigarette, has (I?m sorry to say) the makings of a stroller fascist. And what I?d like to say to him ? and the rest of the stroller inconsiderati out there ? is this. ?Strollers contain kids. Kids grow up. And it is these kids who, in the future, are going to be making your jeans and selling your cigarettes. In fact, they are going to be pushing your wheelchairs when you?re too infirm to walk. So, please, treat them and their four-wheeled carriages with some consideration!?
Okay, I feel so much better now.
For more of Joanne Rendell's mommy blogs - including "Fishing for Poo," "Should Mommy's Wear Thongs?" and "What's that dangly thing between his legs?" then Click Here to visit her at the popular website, Get Crafty. To return to the Role Mommy home page, Click Here.
Posted in: Blog, Laptop Naptime Mama on 12/18/2006
Things that Annoy Me During the Holidays
It's only a few days away from Christmas and the Undercover Mom is here to share her thoughts on the five things that drive her nuts during the holiday season.
1. "It's the most wonderful time of the year" - Come on - you know the song. It's been blasting out of your car radio since Thanksgiving. What the heck is it with radio stations and holiday music? It seems like every year the holiday tunes start playing incessantly the minute I shut off the Macy's Parade and hop into my car to buy cranberry sauce. Frankly, I've had it up to here with the 55 unique interpretations of "Frosty the Snowman." And hearing Rod Stewart doing a Julie Andrews rendition of "My Favorite Things," is pretty darn creepy. Wasn't he the "Do You Think I'm Sexy Guy?" Come on pop stars, rap artists, rockers, crooners and country singers. If you don't have a new CD to release, do not torture us with your own musical take on the "Little Drummer Boy."
2. Wrapped up in Gift Wrap. Since I'm a last minute shopper, I wind up frantically searching for gift wrap the day before Christmas and the pickings are always slim. Why do we all have to wrap presents anyway? Between trying to find the damn scissors, to rationing out the scotch tape because I forgot to pick up another roll, I've gotten to the point that I'm about to picket those wrapping paper companies. In fact, I've actually come up with an ingenious way to wrap a gift without having to cut, tape or glue a thing. Buy a nice shopping bag with some holiday decorations on it, stuff in some tissue paper, plop in the gift (remove the price tag of course), sign the little card the bag comes with, and voila, you've got a present. Same thing with boxes - a pretty box with a bow is always the way to go. Stop chopping down trees to make wrapping paper. It only winds up in the garbage anyway.
3. Holiday tips. How many people are on your tip list this year? The mailman, the paper delivery guy, the garbage men, the landscaper, the guy at the gas station, the parking attendant, and on and on and on. Here's a tip - stop expecting everybody and their uncle to tip you for doing your job. If you do something above and beyond the call of duty - like deliver my paper with a sugar free vanilla skim a latte, then you my friend, deserve something special.
4. Photo Card Guilt. Once again, none of my friends will know what my kids look like this year unless we've actually gone to visit them. We do not have a mailing list and we haven't posed for a family portrait except when we were getting our passports. Thank you to all of our friends who have sent lovely cards and photos. Another year has passed and we still refuse to create and send holiday cards.
5. Pedestrian Traffic. If you work in midtown Manhattan then you know exactly what I'm talking about. It literally drives me to the point of insanity when I rush out of my office to catch my commuter train and get caught in the middle of a pedestrian snarl along Fifth Avenue. Yes - this year that Cartier gift box that opens up and plays music along with a light show is pretty cool. But, if the light is green, make up your mind and cross the street. I only give myself 14 minutes to catch my train and this holiday foot traffic totally drags down my Metronorth arrival time.
I know I may sound bitter - but trust me, it's all in jest. Tonight when I sang "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" with my kids at dinner, I had a great time watching them sing along with me. But maybe that's what the holidays are all about - enjoy your family and friends, take some much needed time off, open those gifts at home, but most of all, stay out of my way.
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Posted in: Blog, Undercover Mom on 12/17/2006
Observations on the Train
Maybe it's just that I spend a lot of time commuting, but lately that people have become really rude as they ride the rails to and from Manhattan. Suddenly, the space that's usually taken up by my morning coffee klatch, or the four old men playing a mean round of poker, has been filled with tourists, little kids, students and others who haven't taken a course in commuting 101. Take the student I sat across from last week. As I barely made the 5:48pm express, I squeezed through the aisles desperately searching for a seat and noticed that the four seater had two available seats whose only inhabitants were a laptop computer bag and a knapsack. When I looked over to see who was hogging the seats, I realized it was this young college kid who obviously doesn't ride the train that often. I asked him to move his stuff so I could sit down and he actually had the nerve to look at me and say, "Can't you just sit somewhere else?" I squeezed into the seat and then looked across to find a woman dropping off a baby stroller with her husband than dashing out off the train...probably for a much needed mom's night out. The baby was actually pretty well behaved, so I was impressed with the effortless hand-off between this commuter couple. Then there was the complete gross out situation. It was the end of a long day, most of the seats were occupied and I looked across a four seater to see a man who was pretty disheveled, sitting with a computer on his lap and his shoes completely off. That wouldn't have been as offensive if the man didn't proceed to put his feet on the seat in front of him where I normally sit with my girlfriends every single morning. EWWWW...my 8:48 am commute will never be the same.Labels: commute, dad, feet, gross, metronorth, mom, parents, poker players, railroad, seats, stroller, train
--------Posted in: Blog, Undercover Mom on 12/17/2006
Office Depot Gift-Giving Expert Hillary Mendelsohn Gives Great Shopping Tips for the Holidays
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Okay Role Mommies, you've got a little over a week to get all your Christmas shopping completed and if you're part of the Hanukah contingent (that would be me), then you'd better head to the mall tonight and get busy (exactly what I'm doing). For those of you who spend most of your time buying office supplies (again me), then gift giving expert and author of The Purple Book, the definitive guide to the best shopping sites on the Internet, Hillary Mendelsohn has the perfect multi-tasking solution for busy moms...buy your holiday gifts at Office Depot! Who knew it could be that easy?
Great Shopping Tips for the Holidays by
Hillary Mendelsohn
It can be easy to lose your holiday cheer with all of the pressures and time commitments that come with the season. Since shopping will take up most of an on-the-go mom?s time, it is important to get on the path of organized gift giving. According to a recent Office Depot survey, respondents stated that they will spend nearly 40 percent of their time shopping for gifts in December. That leaves a whole lot less time for work, working out, participating in holiday festivities, caring for your family and most importantly, caring for yourself!
If the average mom is anything like me, she may already be searching for gifts. In order to lend a helping hand this holiday season, I?ve partnered with Office Depot to develop fun, creative solutions for holiday shopping that help reduce stress and boost productivity.
First of all, I believe moms should be creative with their shopping. One way to get the creative juices flowing is to find gifts in unusual places. Consider venues that enable you to combine shopping experiences so you can cut down on the total number of store visits. For example, at Office Depot you can purchase everyday school and office essentials and stock up on the hottest technology gifts that family and friends will enjoy.
With a little advanced preparation and the correct resources, you will be amazed at the amount of time and aggravation that can be saved when searching for holiday gifts. These suggestions and gift ideas help me survive the holiday season. Adapt them to become your own and they?ll save you too.
Create a list of people you plan to buy gifts for and establish your budget. Include notes on each person?s hobbies and interests to help build unique or creative gift ideas.
Shop online. This enables you to reduce stress and increase productivity during the holidays: from in-store pick up and free shipping options to the convenience of purchasing anytime of day or night?even after the kids are asleep.
Personalize gifts without breaking the bank. With a little thought, gifts can be transformed from practical objects into useful, customized tools. Some of the most thoughtful gifts are the one that reflect the recipient?s interests.
Choose gift cards over fruit cakes. According to the survey, 72 percent of respondents would prefer to receive gift cards from co-workers. Moms can save time by picking up a few gift cards for teachers, doormen or the mailman and pairing them with smaller gifts like colorful pens.
Select a gift that gives back. I?ve noticed that people are really getting into the habit of buying gifts that have meaning. One of my holiday favorites is the ultra-cute Teddy B. Caring Bear from Office Depot. All of the proceeds benefit Toys for Tots and over the past few years Office Depot has raised more than $400,000 for this worthwhile organization.
Here are a few gift ideas to kick start your holiday season:
· For the music lover: The definitive gift for all music lovers this season is the highly-anticipated
Microsoft Zune Player. The 30GB digital media player comes equipped with wireless functionality for Zune-to-Zune sharing of music, pictures and video.
· For the executive: Give the gift of organization. The Foray? line of business cases, sold exclusively at Office Depot, blend durability and organization into stylish carryalls for both men and women.
· For the photographer: Gift a digital camera and add a few accessories to the mix. A stylish leather Foray camera bag and Ativa? 2GB Camera Memory Card ensure that the gift is ready for action.
· For the traveler: Get them the ultimate travel-seeking device: the Navman F20 GPS Receiver. This easy-to-use navigation device allows users to search millions of places of interest with its 3-D moving maps.
· For the movie buff or TV enthusiast: For the person on your list who never likes to miss his/her favorite TV show, the ARCHOS portable media player and DVR station are the perfect gifts. Designed for watching video on the go, the ARCHOS portable media player features a 4.5-inch screen and 30GB of storage capacity. The new Slingbox AV also makes a terrific gift. Compatible with your DVR, digital cable box, and satellite receiver, the Slingbox allows you to enjoy live television anywhere you have an internet connection. To visit the Office Depot website, Click Here. Or to return to the Role Mommy home page, then Click Here.
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Posted in: Blog, Role Mommy Recommends on 12/15/2006
"Reading with Robin" Radio Host Picks Top 10 Books of the Year
Since busy moms have a hard time selecting a good book for themselves, much less finding time to read a great page turner, radio personality Robin Kall, who hosts "Reading with Robin" on WHJJ in Providence, RI has selected her top 10 favorite books of 2006. To make it easy for you to order these books, we've created Amazon links to all of Robin's favorites.
READING WITH ROBIN'S BOOKS OF 2006...
Sweet Ruin by Cathi HanauerThe Real Animal House by Chris Miller
The Guy Not Taken (short stories) by Jennifer Weiner
Piece of Work by Laura Zigman
The Abortionist's Daughter by Elizabeth Hyde
Pug Hill by Alison Pace
Elements of Style by Wendy Wasserstein
Happiness Sold Separately by Lolly Winston
The Men I Didn't Marry by Janice Kaplan and Lynn Schnurnberger
Love and Other Impossible Pursuits by Ayelete Waldman
Reading with Robin is a talk show devoted to authors, readers, and their favorite--and not so favorite--books. The show was launched in November of 2002 with an entertaining and lively look at the books and topics about which people are talking. Listeners are invited to call in with comments and questions for the day?s guest(s) and to participate in contests where the prizes are?you guessed it?sought-after books. Some of her memorable author guests include Jodi Picoult, Sue Monk Kid, Jennifer Weiner, David Baldacci, and such children's authors as Aliki, Lois Lowry, Meg Cabot, Mary Jane Begin, Margie Palatini and Lois Lowry.Robin grew up during the 60s and 70s on Long Island in a close family of five. The enjoyment of reading came from her mom who was an avid reader. Among Robin's favorite books as a youngster were Judy Blume's Are You There, God, its Me, Margaret and Gone with the Wind.
To visit Robin Kall's website, click on Reading with Robin. To visit the Role Mommy book store and order some other great books today (including "Peeing in Peace") CLICK HERE!
Posted in: Blog, Book Club on 12/11/2006
Stroller Fetish
The other day, I was on the phone with my best friend in Berkeley who?s pregnant for the first time. Amid our musings about possible names and other baby-on-the-way talk, she announced, ?Ooh, I was looking at strollers online yesterday. I?m going to need your advice.?
To many, such words would be run-of-the-mill and everyday. But to me, oh boy, what sweet, sweet words! In fact, as my friend spoke them, my heart thudded in my chest, my throat clenched with excitement, and it was all I could do to squeak out my joyous reply. ?Of course!? When I had imparted pearls of stroller wisdom and our phone call was done, it took every ounce of willpower not to log onto jetblue.com and book myself a flight out West. After all, the thought of going shopping with my friend ? trying out the latest strollers in the baby stores, testing the lightness of their frames, marveling at the smoothness of their rides, counting their pockets, clips, and doo-dad ? well, let?s just say, it was so so tempting. Especially for someone like me with a grade A, unabashed, stroller fetish.
Before you think me some sort of baby paraphernalia junkie, I should point out that I?m generally a very thrifty parent. In fact, I have always prided myself on my determination not to be swept up into the dizzying hyper-consumption that Babies R Us and BuyBuyBaby would have all new parents swept up in. I was never lured into buying a Diaper Genie to dispose of smelly diapers. I?ve always used yesterday?s grocery bags and simply tied a knot to lock in the fumes. Instead of purchasing miniscule jars of apple sauce festooned with pictures of chubby babies, I?ve always headed straight to the preserves section of the supermarket and picked up a nice hefty jars of apple sauce and then later served the sauce to Benny from an old yogurt pot. When the trash can at the local pool was filled with discarded swim diapers, I took Benny?s home and laundered them (okay, maybe not the poop ones). And, back in the day when Benny loved to watch mobiles above his changing table, he didn?t look up at something that cost $29.99 from Kmart. No, he gurgled up at a dangling plastic bowl with four Christmas baubles attached (the whole thing cost a dollar!).
But, strollers? I admit it. Despite my frugality elsewhere, strollers are my weakness.
Benny, I must just say, has never rode in a Bugaboo or anything that fancy. However, he has had six strollers in his short life time. Yes, six. Although, I must also say that we haven?t simply been buying and then trashing perfectly good strollers. Oh no, no. There are lots of very justifiable reasons for purchasing and discarding so many strollers.
Our first stroller ? the trusty Maclaren Techno XT ? we bought before Benny was born. We were told it was a ?must? for any self-respecting NY parents. Light, collapsible, reclinable, but also sturdy, dependable, and still, after all these years, hip (Kate Winslet has been pictured with one and, I think, Sarah Jessica Parker too). But, living in a third floor walk-up, we soon discovered the Techno wasn?t exactly light and the plastic wheels didn?t do well on NY?s potholed, death-trap sidewalks. And folding it, while holding a mewing, whimpering, three week old in one arm? Forget it. So, we traded our techno for what we called the ?hummer stroller? which, although the opposite of light (the thing weighed a million pounds), it had pneumatic tires and could be bumped up and down stairs. Plus, those lovely wheels made it a dream to push around the city. But then Benny got bigger?and bigger?and bigger and bumping the hummer, complete with growing child, down the stairs of our apartment building became a job that even Arnold Schwarzengger might sweat over. So, then we bought?.
Okay, okay, I wont go on with our Great Stroller Adventure. You?re probably asleep already. But, the long and the short of it is this. Finding the right stroller for Benny has involved a lot of trial and error, a lot of thought, a lot of research. Not to mention trips to stores to test new models, to paw at new fabrics, to unfasten and refasten harnesses, and badger harried sales assistants about weights and add-ons and wheel sizes. And, for some reason, I have loved every minute of it!
Perhaps it?s how people feel about buying cars. I don?t know. Living in NYC, cars aren?t important. But strollers? They?re our wheels! They?re our ride. They?re our cars. They allow us to get from A to B with a 9 pound baby or even a three year old 40 pounder in tow.
Therefore, I believe they deserve all the attention, love, and reverie that stroller geeks like me afford them.
To many, such words would be run-of-the-mill and everyday. But to me, oh boy, what sweet, sweet words! In fact, as my friend spoke them, my heart thudded in my chest, my throat clenched with excitement, and it was all I could do to squeak out my joyous reply. ?Of course!? When I had imparted pearls of stroller wisdom and our phone call was done, it took every ounce of willpower not to log onto jetblue.com and book myself a flight out West. After all, the thought of going shopping with my friend ? trying out the latest strollers in the baby stores, testing the lightness of their frames, marveling at the smoothness of their rides, counting their pockets, clips, and doo-dad ? well, let?s just say, it was so so tempting. Especially for someone like me with a grade A, unabashed, stroller fetish.
Before you think me some sort of baby paraphernalia junkie, I should point out that I?m generally a very thrifty parent. In fact, I have always prided myself on my determination not to be swept up into the dizzying hyper-consumption that Babies R Us and BuyBuyBaby would have all new parents swept up in. I was never lured into buying a Diaper Genie to dispose of smelly diapers. I?ve always used yesterday?s grocery bags and simply tied a knot to lock in the fumes. Instead of purchasing miniscule jars of apple sauce festooned with pictures of chubby babies, I?ve always headed straight to the preserves section of the supermarket and picked up a nice hefty jars of apple sauce and then later served the sauce to Benny from an old yogurt pot. When the trash can at the local pool was filled with discarded swim diapers, I took Benny?s home and laundered them (okay, maybe not the poop ones). And, back in the day when Benny loved to watch mobiles above his changing table, he didn?t look up at something that cost $29.99 from Kmart. No, he gurgled up at a dangling plastic bowl with four Christmas baubles attached (the whole thing cost a dollar!).
But, strollers? I admit it. Despite my frugality elsewhere, strollers are my weakness.
Benny, I must just say, has never rode in a Bugaboo or anything that fancy. However, he has had six strollers in his short life time. Yes, six. Although, I must also say that we haven?t simply been buying and then trashing perfectly good strollers. Oh no, no. There are lots of very justifiable reasons for purchasing and discarding so many strollers.
Our first stroller ? the trusty Maclaren Techno XT ? we bought before Benny was born. We were told it was a ?must? for any self-respecting NY parents. Light, collapsible, reclinable, but also sturdy, dependable, and still, after all these years, hip (Kate Winslet has been pictured with one and, I think, Sarah Jessica Parker too). But, living in a third floor walk-up, we soon discovered the Techno wasn?t exactly light and the plastic wheels didn?t do well on NY?s potholed, death-trap sidewalks. And folding it, while holding a mewing, whimpering, three week old in one arm? Forget it. So, we traded our techno for what we called the ?hummer stroller? which, although the opposite of light (the thing weighed a million pounds), it had pneumatic tires and could be bumped up and down stairs. Plus, those lovely wheels made it a dream to push around the city. But then Benny got bigger?and bigger?and bigger and bumping the hummer, complete with growing child, down the stairs of our apartment building became a job that even Arnold Schwarzengger might sweat over. So, then we bought?.
Okay, okay, I wont go on with our Great Stroller Adventure. You?re probably asleep already. But, the long and the short of it is this. Finding the right stroller for Benny has involved a lot of trial and error, a lot of thought, a lot of research. Not to mention trips to stores to test new models, to paw at new fabrics, to unfasten and refasten harnesses, and badger harried sales assistants about weights and add-ons and wheel sizes. And, for some reason, I have loved every minute of it!
Perhaps it?s how people feel about buying cars. I don?t know. Living in NYC, cars aren?t important. But strollers? They?re our wheels! They?re our ride. They?re our cars. They allow us to get from A to B with a 9 pound baby or even a three year old 40 pounder in tow.
Therefore, I believe they deserve all the attention, love, and reverie that stroller geeks like me afford them.
For more of Joanne Rendell's mommy blogs - including "Fishing for Poo," "Should Mommy's Wear Thongs?" and "What's that dangly thing between his legs?" then Click Here to visit her at the popular website, Get Crafty. To return to the Role Mommy home page, Click Here.
Posted in: Blog, Laptop Naptime Mama on 12/10/2006
Older Entries
12/10/2006: SABRINA WEILL, FOUNDER OF WEILL MEDIA & PROJECT ANGELMOM
12/10/2006: The Fish
12/10/2006: Kim's Picks...Tiny Prints
12/10/2006: The Credit Card
12/09/2006: Thermal Tees for the Holidays!
12/09/2006: Short but Cute
12/04/2006: Mommy Track'd
12/03/2006: The Princess and the Band Aid
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