Brag Sheet

This morning as I trolled the internet at 3:23 am contemplating my son's college options,  I found the Brag Sheet. Have you hear of this? Basically it is the first step in creating a type of resume, where you highlight the achievements and accomplishments of your student in an effort to make him stand ahead of the crowd during the admissions review process.

One question on the brag sheet template I was reviewing, asked parents to describe their child.  Sure 6 foot, light brown hair, thin and beautiful is one way to describe my Max.  But I am sure that is not the point.  I could tell what he does or what interests him but even that doesn't get at the essence of him. After thinking about  it, what comes to mind is his presence. When Max enters a room or a conversation, the air get full.  It's almost like you feel "more".  Suddenly whatever was being discussed or performed seems more interesting and significant.  He brings perspective and color.  It's kind of like turning on the music or spraying perfume or wrapping yourself in silk.  When he leaves, you feel left.  Not that you parted but that you were left behind. It just isn't enough. It's like eating one potato chip or listening to someone hang up before you do.

I don't mean to imply that each interaction with my son is some joyous event.  He brings stress, drama and worry (although all of that is surrounded by an "it's all good, don't worry" mentality).  Whatever he brings, it's not bland or vanilla or average.  He is present and makes you present.

So how do you convey that to a college admissions committee?  Paper is one dimensional, with data on his grades and community service and athletics and SAT scores.  It's such a small part of him and who he is and what he can do

Maybe instead of a brag sheet, the admissions counselors could experience a Brag Film or the documentary of Max.  Guess that is a little over the top.

This is News?

Anyone who watches the world news knows that it can be depressing and tiring.  Political agruments, war death tolls and bankrupt middle America are enough to make you stop being aware of current affairs.  So I can understand that once in a while the networks want to show a feel good story.  Even if it is just to improve over all attitude of the viewing public.  But this story is ridiculous.

Apparently a mom, father and toddler were in a terrible car crash that left the dad's leg pinned and the toddler crying and scared, trapped in a crushed minvan (or some such thing).  The mother called 911 and while on the phone waiting for help, the 911 operator heard her singing the alphabet song.  This is wonderful, a mom trying to console her daughter and husband.  It is exactly what I would do and what every other mother I know would do.  How is this news?

Dian Sawyer stated that it was "amazing" for this mother to sing her child in an effort to calm her.  Amazing?  That's daily life for most of us.  Wouldn't it be "amazing" if a mom ignored her scared little baby? 

Has our family life become so bad that the display of simple compassion and caring is now news worthly? Sure we do not want to set the bar too high, but really?  What's next  dear anchor?  Woman crossing street at light reduces chance of accident....man goes to work daily to receive a paycheck...parents feed their kids three meals a day..."AMAZING"

I know I should have been uplifted by this story, but it just made me sick.

Happy Anniversary Parents

This week my parent's celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary.  Seems like such a long time, but I really could not begin to image one of my parents without the other.

When my siblings and I realized it was anniversary time last year we started planning the big surprise bash.  Now that it is over I can say what a royal pain this party was to plan...and I plan a lot of get togethers so I feel that I am a bit of an expert.  Actually the worst part was the guests. 

Invites were easy to create, my brother found the best polka band this side of Warsaw, Dolci made a delicious cake, Mother Nature went above and beyond with the floral arrangements and The Saturn Club offered the best venue.  Ahh but the guests.

The first problem was getting a list of friends and family with their addresses and phone numbers.  My sister stole my dad's address book.  Although she felt guilty because it seemed to have doctors, pharmacy's and other essential info in it, I was thrilled.  A starting place.  Then I opened it to find the following enteries:

Charlie the Chicken

Big John from work

Jerry with bad knee

Who the hell are these people? Better than that, I found some names I could make out but no addresses. The second problem was getting people to respond.  Sent out 50 invites, received 30 RSVPs.  How does someone not even respond? 

All in all the night was lovely.  I gave a terrific speak (pat myself on the back) and everyone was drinking dancing and laughing.  All said and done, I was thrilled my siblings and I could do this for our parents.  Seeing them together and so much still in love, makes me appreciate my guy all the more.  We are looking at 20 years in Feb.  I was nine when we took our vows :-).

Happy 50th mom and dad!

Superficiality at best

I have never claimed to be above materialism and vanity.  Just the fact that I can recognize when I am participating should give me some honor points.  I try to tailor my superficality with meaningful work, stimulating dialogue and relevant concerns but some days I am weak and succumb.

This past week I fell to the consumerism demons.  I did serious damage in Anthropology and in Michael Kors.  Although I think you would all agree that if a pair of boots look great in black you MUST buy them in saddle.  Anyway I thought this bit of retail therapy would have ended with those indiscretions.  Not so.  I realized I needed a pair of kickin' shoes to match the dress I bought.

How easy it is to access Neiman Marcus on line!  How simple to grab the image of the dress from the Anthropolgy website and compare it to the available shoes for color, style and overall coordination.  Way too easy.  I found the perfect shoe. Unfortunately the price was definitely not perfect.  So I do what any girl would do - I look to my friends for counsel.

My first consultant, let's call her Princess S. stroked my ego with "only you could pull those off" and an apparent dsiregard for the price tag.  I remove the AmEx from the wallet.  But wait, my second consultant the Beautiful Ms Mary responds with "check your closet first" and "do you realize people are starving in Africa".  She added a bit of reality to the cause.  Putting AmEx back into wallet.  I then consult my sister Tami who always is there with a "get a grip, you are a lunatic".  Ah but not this time.  This times, she tells me to buy another dress to justify the shoes.  With multiple occassions to wear the outfits, the shoes really aren't that expense on a per cost basis. Thanks T.

Now what?  I need shoes by Saturday.  If I choose these, I have to also get overnight express delivery and decide today.  If I check my closet I am sure I have at least 5 pairs that would match therefore saving the obscene $1200....decisions decisions. Will the awesome shoes distract from the extra 10 pounds I am carrying?  Will this be the last straw for my husband's patience?  hmmmmm

Superficiality is winning....trying to fight the demons...

My baby in China

Max recently participated in a People to People ambassador program taking him to various parts of China.  He visited Beijing, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Wuzhen and Donghi Village.  It was an amazing trip for him; one that taught him about the absurdity of stereotypes, one that highlighted his social skills and one that presented him with a view of life much different than his reality.

Here are a few photos of those experiences:

Max in Tiananmen Square

New friends

Max on the Great wall

Which Terra Cotta Warrior doesn't belong?

Karate Master Max

Delegates from the states

RSVP Means Respond Please!

Can someone explain to me what part of RSVP is so difficult to understand?  The letters come from the french expression "respondez s'il vous plait" or in plain English "please respond".  That means as the receiver of that invitation you must contact the host/hostess and note if you are attending or if you are not attending.  It does not mean sit on your ass and do nothing.

I am throwing a surprise party (more to come on this in later blog post) and I was careful to send out the invites 5 weeks in advance of the date.  Clearly I asked for an RSVP.  I was even considerate enough to offer a phone number and an email for my guest's convenience.  And guess what?  The day before the RSVP date, I have one...yes one...response out of the 50 people invited.  Are you kidding me?

What this means is that I have to call all these people to see if they are attending. It means I have to find phone numbers and schedule time to make these calls.   It means I have to delay responding to the caterer on food and drink order.  It means I have to delay my respond to the venue on how to set up tables.  It means a giant headache when I am trying to do a nice thing.

Therefore, if you are a person who feels he/she is beyond RSVP, let me assure you that you are being rude and difficult.  Call your host/hostess when you are invited to an event and RSVP! If you honestly did not know what RSVP meant, well I have educated you.

Definition of Thoughtfulness

My husband is a very generous and thoughtful man.  He has an exceptional talent for getting the perfect gifts for the people he cares about.  This year for my birthday, he epitomized the word thoughtful.

For several weeks before my birthday, he kept telling me that he has finally gotten me something that I am always bugging him for.  It's not too expensive and it is not jewelry, so I really had not idea.  At first I thought those Christian Louboutin shoes..no he said that was superficial, then I thought a new fur coat...no he said that was redundant.  I started wondering what stupid thing I brought up that I was no longer interested in.  I know it is shocking but I may sometimes have a short attention span.

Well he did it.  He bought me tickets to see Madame Butterfly at the Metropolitan Opera House in NYC.  You may be saying, so what?  Let me explain why this is so thoughtful.  Matty and I started our love of opera together when we lived in Detroit.  Before each opera, we would buy the CD and listen to it prior to attending the performance.  Every time we travel, we try to get opera tickets.

Since we have started seeing opera, I have begged him to get tickets to the Met.  We tried on several occasions and each time, our timing was off.  Either they were sold out or we just couldn't coordinate it.   Every time we go to the Regal theaters and see that advertisement for Opera at the Met on the live screen,  I gently punch him and complain that the Met will go bankrupt before I get there.

So the first weekend of December we will be flying to NYC to see my favorite opera at the most desirable venue.  We have hotel and dining plans to add to this winter escape to NY.  Best of all, my husband also purchased a ticket for Max.  He knew that I would want to expose Max to the joy of opera - even though Max is not nearly as thrilled.

Matty worked on getting these tickets for months.  Three fabulous seats for a Saturday night performance.  I could not be more excited.  Can you find a better definition of thoughtful? How ever will I find a comparable gift for his Sept. birthday?

Sailing Away

My husband is combating middle age by scheduling adventures.  It's been scuba, ballooning and talk of sky diving. Lucky for me I have been invited to, included in, and required for many of these events.  Our most recent is sailing.

He bought sailing lessons through Seven Seas Sailing School near the grain elevators.  The building is unimpressive to say the least, but the instructors are fabulous.  I thought I could learn some terminology and be fine.  Not so.  There is a ton to learn...jibe ho, tack port, in irons...this is a bit of work.  Our first lessons were informative and a bit daunting, but I have to say I was enjoying myself.

We did our first water sail last weekend.  To start, the instructor cut his hand on some rigging. Then we noticed a line stuck in the propeller - one of the students (an 50 something year old man) dove into the water to cut it loose.  It was trouble starting up but the winds were beautiful and I enjoyed our few hours in the sun.

Sunday we did our second sail on the water.  I was feeling confident until I noticed the high winds and the expression of pure delight on our instructor's face.  Our instructor is an adorable 20 something young man who sails 18 - 20 hours a weekend.  The boy was born to teach and you can tell he loves it. He and Max were checking out hotties on a smaller sail boat last week, a glance that almost had us crash into another boat.  But I digress...

This week I manned the main sail while Matty manipulated the jib and Max drove with the tiller.  We tacked right and I swear the boat tipped to it's side and we were parallel to the water!  My hair could have hit the waves, had I not been hanging on for dear life.  As smiles filled everyone else's face, I screamed to let the main sail loose so we slow down and lift up.  As main sail operator - I performed flawlessly and we were back in mellow territory.  Why am I the only one fearful of death but capsized sailboat?

One of the skills you learn by taking lessons is to perform a man overboard drill.  After seeing what needs to be done, I made Max promise me that he would never fall off the boat while sailing because I would have to leave him there.  When someone falls off a sailboat, you have to keep going until you are about 20 boat lengths away and then turn around to get close enough to pick him up but not too close to have the wind push the boat into him.  Keep in mind this is a 26 ft boat!  I cannot believe our crew was able to do this twice!  My contribution was simply watching the flotation device designated as the man overboard.

After two hours my palms were raw from gripping the lines, my face was permanently stuck in fear and my hair was wind blown.  It was time to dock.  The other couple with us did their best and just gently tapped the dock.  All safely returned to land. Not sure how those women on TV manage to look so graceful on a sailboat.  I was basically crawling around on my hands and knees - very UN ladylike.

It is definitely exhilarating to be on the water gliding through the wind, but also terrifying.  We have one more lesson and then we can be tested.  Once we pass, we can take out a sailboat on our own.  I can't see this happening.  The boys love it and Matty is already pricing used sailboats.  God help me.