Working on Fitness

This week a good friend and I decided we were going to hire a personal trainer.  Usually any time of gym membership or fitness project makes my wallet much leaner than my body, but I continue to try.

We went to Catalyst Fitness, which is a huge and amazing place.  My friend belongs but the real reason was that I met the owner and could not help but notice she has the BEST defined arms I have ever seen.  I want them on this body.  Although defined muscles may take more than the regular lifting of wine glass to lips, I was willing to try.  It was late in the day when we got to the gym and simply walking in made me tired.

It's not like I am in terrible shape.  My husband and I take a spin class every weekday morning at the Bike Or Bar.  It is loud music, flashing lights and the BEST instructors in all of NY state.  I usually leave there soaked in sweat.  I also try to do 2 days of Hot yoga - which I love.  So you would think that I could at least get through a little fitness class at a gym.  Not so.

My friend and I met our trainer Sebastian.  Very tall, very fit, very cute.  You know the kind of person you want to impress a bit.  Instead of putting together a program, he had us join his TRX class.  Frankly it didn't look too bad.  A couple of straps hanging from a station and you just kind of suspend yourself.  How hard could it be?

We positioned out mats and started by laying on our backs, putting a foot in each strap and then flipping over.  Yes I said flipping.  I haven't flipped since I was a toddler.  Now I am on my my palms with my body in the air, my feet in stirrups and after 20 seconds I AM EXHAUSTED.  That was the first exercise and the easiest.  So much for impressing the cute trainer.  We were on our hands, our heels our toes.  We were pushing and pulling and bending.  None of it was easy and our trainer may have realized it because he offers us a water break.

Exhausted to the point of delusion, we walk to the water fountain.  On the way, I start feeling a bit better until I walk directly into some piece of exercise equipment, jabbing me in the stomach and making me trip.  Surely no one say that - although my friend has trying hard to hide the hysteria.  What the hell am I doing here?

After 1 hour, I am wiped out.  I thought I would be better at this and now I just feel weak and even more in need of a trainer.  Next week he booked us for an 1 1/2 so he can test our fitness - apparently lying flat on the mat breathing heavy didn't give him a clear indication.

I could quit and just deal with things the way I am especially because it has been three days and my legs are still sore.  But I will not.  You see my twin sister recently lost 60 pounds and can do 100 push ups.  My best friend recently lost 20 pounds and looks awesome in a tight size 4.  Where does that leave me?  I will tell you.  It leaves me visiting Sebastian and suspending my self in this TRX nightmare.

Win or Lose It's How You Play the Game

Remember your parents telling you that it doesn't matter if you win or lose, it's how you play the game.  I just keep thinking about how the presidential election game was played this year and how maybe some campaign managers didn't get their mom's message.

If you know me or have ever read my blog, you will know that my candidate did win and of course I am happy about that. I have many friends who had and have very different views, opinions and favorites. Those people are educated, aware and involved.  I respect them and value their opinions.  We were able to have conversations which brought to light differing opinions and approaches as well as taught me a few things.  No my mind was not changed nor do I think I chanced their minds.  But we are all better off for having those discussions.

That's not how I feel about the candidates.  The debates were devoid of truth and facts, simply littered with opinions and attacks disguised as truth.  The NY Times published a fantastic Op Ed piece by Thomas Friedman today that really made me realize what a disappointment this process has become.  My son will be eligible to vote in the next presidential election, what will that be like?

Did you happen to see the news piece that focused on a campaign to scare voters into thinking they were not legal to vote?  Billboards were established in low income, under educated neighborhoods stating voter fraud was punishable by a $10k fine and 3 years in jail.  Those neighborhoods were blanketed with mail pieces claiming that if these folks voted they would be doing so illegally.  Now I am sure some of these people were probaly not registered, but what was the purpose of these tactics?  Obviously to not have this "group" perform their civil duty.  I get that this was not a political sanctioned move but the brain child of some overly zealous Romney supporters..not that the overly zealous Obama supporters couldn't have come up with a similiar move.  But when you look at what the candidates are doing, can you be surprised that their supporters are following suit?

Regardless of whether your candidate won or lost, it is time to get together and support our political leaders - that means the president, the senate and the congress.  Yes express your difference of opinion and yes financially support those who you want to see in power.  But do so with civility not with emotionaly jabs, damaging lies and a reluctance to work together.  As cheesy as it may sounds, we are after all Americans.

 

Determination

This weekend my husband and I went to see a body building competition.  Never would we have ever thought to do this in the past, however I good friend of ours was competing.

When she first told us, we thought she had gone crazy.  What close to 50 year old women, with multiple children would want to put her body on display?  Or even to put the effort into building those muscles and refraining from the things we all like wine and desserts?

After seeing her on stage, we could not be more impressed.  She looked amazing! Lean muscles dripping with confidence.  She strutted across that stage and she deserved every bit of applause she received.  I think she looked better than most of the 20 somethings competing.  But it wasn't so much the body building as it was the fact that she put her mind forward to do something, something extremely difficult demanding determination, persistence and will power.  She did it.

It seems we rarely see that determination and dedication any more.  How many times do we hear or even say " I'm going to ..." and then when it gets too difficult we quit with some rational on not enough time or not the right time or why bother.  Our friend is an inspiration.  We should all feel the need to look at ourselves and pick a challenge.  Most importantly to follow through on that challenge.

Congrats to my beautiful, determined friend.

Vroom Vroom

Max is driving.  It happened.  My baby has upgrade from a hobby horse to a real car.

It's not like this was a big surprise.  He received his permit in February; I drove with him to Drivers Ed daily for 6 weeks at the end of the summer, and I signed off on his road test.  So why didn't I realize he would actually be driving on his own?

Tuesday I drove him to school, as I have down for the past 13 years - give or take a day.  It was like any other morning....we listened to his ipod, he made me laugh and I hounded him about his school work.  Had I realized this was the last time I would drive him to school I would have done things differently.  I would have noticed the road and sites to store in my memory of lasts.  I would have said all the wonderful things I wanted him to know about how proud I am of him and how happy I am that he is becoming so a strong young man.  Instead, I said "Bye luv, have a good day" and that was that.

Wed he was off of school and my hubby took him to his road test.  I received the call at work that it was official and would it be alright if he took the car to the XC meet.  On my way home, I saw police lights and heard sirens which appeared near my street.  Oh my god!!  He has been in a terrible accident, why did  I let him drive, I did not protect him...my stomach is in my throat and my heart is beating through my chest.  But no.  The first responders are at an apartment complex not even close to my street and no Max was not in an accident. He is fine. But I went through all the emotions.  Will that happen every time I hear a siren and he has the car?  I need a cocktail.

To make matters worse, we buy him a car.  Let's not even discuss the cost of insurance ( remember I am in an assigned risk because of some poor speeding decisions on my part).  Max loved the Charger.  Why wouldn't he?  That sound of power when you start it up?  I tell him rear wheel drive will be terrible in the winter only to hear him respond that it really hasn"t been snowing that much and usually the streets are plowed well.  Seriously??? That's his justification.

Add hubby to the mix, who recommends a Camero.  Sure why not put my baby in that death trap? Although I must admit, I jumped into those bucket leather seats and thought "pop in the Journey tape, I'll change into a tube top and we can make out in the back seat".  Oh so sad.

Well we decided on a Kia Optima, 4 cyclinder, front wheel drive, 36 mpg.  Much better.  He loves it because it has heated leather seats and full navigation.  What 16 year old should have to deal with a cold bottom and no map?

I will finish with the realization that driving was probably the last thing we will teach our son.  Sure we will be there for advice and guidance, not to mention as a provider of cash, but will there be anything else we can actually teach him?  My baby continues his path away from me...

Reality TV or Debate

So it is pretty obvious that blogging has not been much of a priority lately.  However I watched the debates and just had to comment.

Full disclosure - I support Obama.  Actually I cannot bear to even think of Romney in office but that is not the point of this post.  I am shocked, dismayed and even disheartened by the debates.  It is my understanding that the debate is to allow the candidate to present their ideas, policies, plans for their elected presidency.  Instead it has become reality tv with newscasters commenting on who is more fierce and who wants it more.  Lies are exposed, aggression is valued and insults seem to score points.

Are we so "dumbed down" that we look forward to Romney and Obama in the roles of JWOW and Snookie?  Do we need to see our country leaders acting like "The Real Housewives of the White House"?  Does the public even understand the reason for the debate and are we listening to what the positions actually are?

I consider myself somewhat of an educated voter.  There are reasons...policy reasons...that I am making my choice.  I will not vote because I think one candidate "wants it" more...or because of the displayed aggression.  I don't really care which big dog marks his territory how.  But I do believe there are many, many voters out there who have very, very different criteria for choosing a leader.

I am frightened for our future.

Where are you now?

My sister and I hosted somewhat of a high school reunion for about a dozen girls from high school.  I hadn't really seen any of them for about 20 years.  But thanks to Facebook and my sister Ann's tenacity, the girls from Villa were reunited.

I couldn't help thinking how I spent so much time with these girls during such an impressionable part of my life, yet I never chose to keep in touch with them.  In considering the places I worked and the cities I've lived in, there are so many people who played fairly significant roles in making me the person I am today.  Yet I don't speak to them either.

So what does this say about the people I know today?  Will they also drift away?  I think not. I think the older you get, the more you want and need those people with you.

I have a very few close friends who have been with me for a long time.  I will not lose them.

Miss Me? Did I mention I broke my foot?

So it's been a rather long time since I wrote something on this blog.  It's not that I had nothing to say...God knows I always have something to rant about.  It's just that I felt any comments from my current state of mind would sound pitiful.  You see I have been a bit sad lately.   No need to focus on that though.  I am back and I am going to try to make this work yet again.  I have been blogging for another site and try to post daily.  Seems to be working so let's see what we can do here.


I want to talk about mobility.  Odd subject to jump back on the track with but you see I recently broke my foot and it is a daily challenge.  I'd like to say that the injury was due to some amazing feat: saving a child from a burning building, foiling a mugging from getting grandma's purse or even getting a cat from a tree. I'd also like to say that I was doing something fun when it happen:  skydiving, dancing, entertaining.  But no those would all be lies.  I broke my foot falling down the stairs.  No high heels, no cocktails, no running, no heavy carrying, no nothing.  Just a simple misstep and a lot of pain.

Immediately following the fall, I sat on the bottom of the stairs crying.  The boys never came to find me.  So I picked myself and found them. I swore it was broken, but took a couple of aspirin and applied ice.  That night we had tickets to see "The Screwtape Letters" performed at UB's Center for Performing Arts.  I really did not want to miss it.  By the end of the performance, I could not walk. The next day I awoke and looked at my foot.  I giant eggplant, color and size had replaced my ankle and foot.

My right foot or a bizarre eggplant?

Yes that is my giant foot and ankle.  Hideous.  Obviously I needed the ER.  Off we went and after xrays confirming I had broken my 5th metatarsal and severely sprained my ankle, we were home with pain meds.  The next day I drove myself to Excelsior to get it checked out.  Talk of pins, casts and restrictions were making me insane.  They put on a camel walker or air cast and I drove home against orders.  Two days later my foot could hold no pressure, I was crying all the time and off I went back to Excelsior.  This time I needed a ride.  Three cheers for mom and dad, who saved the day yet again.

Seeing the podiatrist was a different experience than my first time seeing the PA.  The podiatrist told me what the deal was, why it was so painful, what I could expect and orders for how to live for the next three weeks.  He put on a hard cast, forbid me to drive and instructed me to elevate it as much as possible.

Why neon green?

Everyone asks why neon green?  Great question.  Because I wanted out, I was annoyed and handled a color palette of about 40 shades.  I told the guy to choose one.  He picked pink - I said anything but pink.  And there you have it.

I know I am a baby but I hate this.  It hurts.  If it feels better, I walk on it and then it swells and then it looks like bread rising over the cast.  The cast can't get wet so shower time includes a plastic bag and tape concoction.  I can't drive but on the rare occasion I have to - it is painful.

Another week or so and the hard cast can be replaced with the camel walking cast for another 2 to 3 weeks.  When I asked the doctor about getting back into those stilettos, he informed me that it could take months for my swollen ankle to heal and that we were a long way off from considering pumps.  

We'll see about that one!

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.

Tubing with the Boys

Today my brother and nephews joined us on the Niagara River for a day of boating and tubing.  This was the kind of adventurer that justifies the boat, reinforces our decision to live in Buffalo and makes me realize just how lucky I am.

It started off a little rocky when we hit traffic on the 290.  As we are standing still, my brother called to say he needs gas.  Thankfully the fumes took him to the marina safely.

The sun was shining, the water was clear and the boys were ready to go.  Matty has obviously grown as a boat captain.  His ability to make waves, flip the kids and bring the tube airborne was impressive to say the least.  At one point, my nephew Gavin skipped across the water like a stone after being thrown from the tube.  Another time brought my other nephew Ethan under the water as he held onto the plummeting tube.  I think it may have even scared this adventurous and fearless daredevil.

The day become more adventurous when Captain Matty let Max take the helm and drive the boat.  All was going well until... we hit someone's wake and our novice driver accelerated instead of slowing down.  Capt. Matty was thrown from the front into the stairs and landed on his back like a turtle on his shell.  Gavin and Ethan were hanging on for dear life, Scott's jaw hit the deck and I screamed. Max recouped quickly but those 30 seconds felt like two hours.  Our captain suffered a few bruises, most obviously the bump of his leg that looks like another knee cap.  Max may need a little more practice.  He jumped back in though with one hand on the wheel, one on the window and cranked up the Ipod to bounce to the tunes.  Obviously he was not as frightened as his crew.

Max continued his learning as he experienced the strong river current.  We anchored the boat and the boys hung out on the tube.  Max fell from the tube and it seemed that he was being swept away.  After a few seconds he was several yards away.  He started swimming toward the tube, only to tire himself and get farther away.  The current had him, terror struck and we all jumped into action.  My brother Scott screamed to Gavin to hang on and to Max to stay where he was.  Scott was "man overboard lookout".  Ethan and I pulled up the anchor and Matty swung the boat around to get Max.  As he was drifting quickly toward the falls, we pulled him in and decided it may be time to go somewhere calmer.

We went to grass island and the boys swam to the shore while the adults relaxed in the sun. Atlas, everyone was getting tired and hungry.  It was 6:30 pm and time to head back.

I've spent a lot of time complaining to Matty about the cost of the boat, the effort to maintain it and the little time we are able to spend using it.  Those days are over.  The laughs from the boys and memories we made today are worth any dollar amount.

Max in red, Ethan in Front, Gavin on knee in back.

Just starting to take off!

Fill 'er Up

I started the day yesterday as I usually do with my pot of coffee.  However it wasn't enough so on my way to my first appointment, dressed in beautiful suit and mink coat, I stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for another cup.  Th eguy filled it right to the top and then did not fully snap the cap in place.  As I put it into the cup holder, the first splash hit the car.  As I picked it up, it spilled all over my coat and skirt.  Why the hell does the cup need to be filled to the very top?  Am I going to complain because I missed a sip?

Stop for lunch, order soup.  Again, it it filled to the very top of the bowl so as I walk it is spilling onto my paperwork and hands.  Yet another mess.

To add insult to the extreme, I then make dinner for the boys. Boiling milk, unattended, also spills all over the top of the pot and makes a complete mess of my recently cleaned stove. Now I am to blame.

The final straw came that night as I fill the bathtub with water for a relaxing hot bath, glass of wine at hand.  Well the phone rang, I forget about the tub until of course I notice a puddle in the doorway.  The water must have been running for 1/2 hour.  Yet another mess.

I blame the coffee guy for all my excess problems yesterday.  Talk about needed to set limits!

Keep Focus on Message

HBR blog had a terrific post on staying on message to win.  Although the point is to address nah-sayers and arguments while presenting a new idea or approach, I find the advice in this post to be relevant in any type of meeting.  I experienced a perfect example a few weeks ago.

We attended a mandatory kick off meeting comprised of about 20 teenagers and their parents, run and monitored by two highly capable teachers.  The scheduled time was 3 hours. I see no reason for a three hour meeting.  Just hearing the time frame makes me tired.  Who can maintain concentration for that long of a stretch?  However, I assume the meeting will be run smoothly and efficiently because of the massive amounts of material expected to be covered in that time frame.

Amongst problems like starting late, unknown technology and cramped facilities, the biggest challenge came about an hour into it when the meeting moderator experienced a complete loss of control. I really respect and like the moderator but the poor thing was over her head.  The aforementioned blog would have really helped.  You see the meeting was hi-jacked by two very loud and frankly obnoxious individuals.

Let me set the stage.  It is 6:30 pm, a storm is blowing outside, I am tired and am sitting in a room full of strangers with little in common.  The meeting starts late and no agenda in place.  It appears the parents at this meeting are very proud of their kids and really feel the need to express their pride so as to make a connection.  Note that is not my reason for being there.  I am not interested in making friends or connections.  I know bitchy, but come on I am a fairly busy person.

So the first hi-jacker decides she wants to help by bragging about her child's paper forming abilities.  It is essential to this woman that she describe the process and patterns in excrutiatingly painful detail.  Hey lady, why don't you set up a table after the meeting and anyone who gives a rat's fanny about it can meet you after the meeting to hear more of this fascinating child's skills set?  But for now SHUT UP.

Next up comes the 150 year old man who decides to present his recollections in the form of what the kids will experience.  Guess what grampa, time marches on and things change.  Your advice and experiences are old.  They may be interesting but not when we have important topics to review.  Set yourself up next to the crazy lady above and beguile your audience after this meeting.

I can somewhat empathize with the moderators, who obviously felt they needed to give everyone a voice and to be kind in faking interest.  But what about the rest of us who are ready to slit their wrists if these hi-jackers don't pipe down?

Maybe I am too aggressive and insensitive, but here is a little help for you wonderful moderators who do not want to hurt a potential hi-jacker's feelings.  Try saying "BE THAT AS IT MAY, we need to move on".  If that does not stop them, ignore them.  Eventually they will shut up.

Something is Wrong with our Justice System

Actually, there is a lot wrong with our justice system.  I am not a lawyer nor do I have any formalized education, outside of a few intellectual property and privacy classes for my masters program.  But I am a reasonable person who i slightly outraged this morning.

I'm not going to address malpractice suits or the insane ability of certain people to waste tax payers money for frivolous lawsuits.  I am not even going to focus on this abused Idaho woman who won the lottery but will most likely need to give half to her abusive spouse.  Instead I want to rant about Loughner, our recent Arizona killer.

Yes I can call him a killer because the man brutally murdered innocent 6 people including a 9 year old girl.  There is no question here.  It was witnessed by multiple people (I even think some of it was on film).  He was tackled down and held while the authorities.  So why can he plead not-guilty?  Why is a public defender assigned to him?  Why is that defender allowed to petition the court to move the trial from Tucson to ensure an jury that is not tainted?

This is not justice.  This is ridiculous.  It is process for process sake.  Fine, if we need to determine what to do with him - life sentence, insane asylum, death penalty.  But do we need to pretend that this is our judicial system working to protect the innocent before they are proven guilty.

In our current economic times does Arizona need the cost of this trial?  I cannot believe the media as tourists will bring enough money into the community to justify the cost.  Do the families of the deceased and injured need to relive the ordeal via trial over then next 5 - 8 years?

This entire thing sickens me.

Appreciating the Soft Power

Bravo to Vineet Nayar on her blog for HBR referencing the soft power of women leaders.  Although not only women demonstrate a soft power that I believe transcends the coercive power often demonstrated by men, I do believe that the influence of women leadership is too often trivialized.

We are a strong gender.  One that has been accepting lower wages, overt discrimination and condescending sexism for far too long.  It is refreshing to see an appreciation for inherit and natural power talents such as the ability to engage in dialogue as opposed to engaging with threats; the ability to mediate as opposed to dictate and event he ability to influence by attraction.

Articles like this bring me hope for our girls and for our future.