REALity

Finding material to write about for a weekly blog is challenging. As a writer, one of the principle rules I follow is simple - write what you know. When I write, I often draw from my own life experiences, or I get an idea from something interesting that a person around me has said or done. I also use current events for ideas, as I did for the postings of "Beware of the Fat Bug," "Barbie's World," and "Public School Envy."

A reader of 3 Kids and a Dog…Plus 2 referred to last week's blog as "reality TV." I am thrilled that I have sparked an emotion in this reader. I do not watch much reality TV but I have seen enough to know that this was not a compliment.

I scrolled through my past blogs to see what she meant by her comment (which by the way she accidentally forwarded to me…Oops! A future blog will deal with email etiquette). She is right, there is "reality" in what I write, and that is exactly what I hope to bring to my readers - real life issues that many of us can relate to. Whether I am writing about something campy, like Barbie's 50th birthday, or a more serious topic such as choosing the right school for our children, I often lend my experiences to the story. Making a connection, so to speak, brings life to a story – it adds honesty and emotion to a topic that otherwise may be just factual.

The "reality TV" comment got me to thinking. If I were to have a reality TV series I would call it "The PA" (parents association). It would be brilliant! There would be several leading roles: the controlling former business executive, who runs her home, children, and the PA like a business; the mother with too much help, and oh too little time; and then there could be the competitive mother who wants to "one-up" everyone on everything. This is an excellent example of writing about what you know – been there, seen that! My role would be producer. Writing about binging on Doritos with my son is one thing, having it caught on camera is another - I'll leave that up to the Kardashians.

Back to reality ladies -spring has arrived and it is time to put away our light boxes, shave our legs, and get happy. I look forward to this time of year. After a long cold and snowy winter spring-cleaning begins: we open our screen porch, sweep terraces clean, covers come off the outdoor furniture, and the grill gets going. The children will celebrate spring with their cousins, and a few friends, roasting marshmallows and eating s'mores in our roaring outdoor fireplace. It is a fun time of year.

Spring for me also means preparing for our vegetable garden - I will be tilling soil (that's a sight!), and seeding - there is much to do, so I will post every two weeks now. If you would like to make a comment, or suggestion regarding my blog, it does not have to be by accident. You can comment anonymously by going to Post a Comment, then Select a Profile. I look forward to hearing from you.
Czzy

Barbie's World

This week marked several 50th anniversaries. It was the anniversary of President Obama's 50th day in office, Lilly Pulitzer marked 50 years of happy-hue clothing designs, the Dalai Lama entered exile 50 years ago, and Barbie turned 50!

President Obama's 50th day in office sparked questions concerning gray hair and whether or not gray hair is determined by our genes or caused by stress. Martha Stewart celebrated Lilly Pulitzer's 50th jubilee by having her entire studio audience dress in Lilly attire. Sadly, not much attention was given to the Dalai Lama. Barbie, however, is having a splendid 50th birthday celebration - Mattel has built a 3,500 square-foot Malibu mansion for Barbie and her celebrity friends to party. When the party is over, the mansion will become a Barbie Museum.

Embarrassingly, Barbie's birthday interests me the most out of the week's jubilees. Babs is 50 and fabulous – how could she not be? For her 50th, Mattel has given her a makeover. Based on "Dr. Czzy's" observations (who does not treat Barbie), she has indeed had some "plastic" work done. Her lips appear plumper; she has a thinner jaw line, larger eyes, and not a gray hair in sight!

The concept of Barbie is amusing. As a child, my mother would not allow me to have a Barbie Doll, which probably explains my interest in the toy's anniversary. My mother, who was a product of the women's rights movement, believed that the Barbie doll exploits women as sex objects. She's right, Barbie did and still does, but at least now she has a brain.

Here are a few facts about our brainy friend: She debuted on March 9, 1959, and her full name is Barbie Millicent Roberts. She is from the fictitious town of Willows, Wisconsin, and she has had an impressive 108 careers in her 50 years - that's 2.16 careers per year. If she were life size, she would be 5'9", her measurements would be 39-18-33, and her shoe size would be a size 3. According to studies done on Barbie's measurements, if she were human, she would have to crawl around on all fours, as she would not be able to balance her buxom chest with her tiny feet! The studies also indicate that a "real" woman of these proportions would not have enough body fat to menstruate. Perhaps that is why Barbie never had an heir!

Barbie comes with every imaginable accoutrement a girl could want. She has a dream house, a beach house, and a convertible, among other material objects. She has an enviable wardrobe with matching shoes and a handbag for each outfit. She even dons an outfit for each of her 108 careers. Have you ever seen an astronaut look so chic in a space suit?

My mother was progressive for her time. She was a young mother of five, and tough as nails. She never gave in to the things that really counted – like her beliefs. I was desperate for a Barbie doll - all the girls had them, but my mother never gave in. Do not feel sorry for me, I have had my fair share of Barbie time. I was a resourceful young lady, and spent many afternoons playing with our neighbor and her collection of Barbie dolls while her mother and mothers boyfriend practiced yoga, naked, in the room next door - How's that for progressive?

My mother was far from naive and was well aware of my surreptitious Barbie play. To her credit, she looked the other way - I think she appreciated my gumption. It was not until many years later that my mother found out about the naked yoga - she took it well.

Ironically, it was my mother who bought Elizabeth her first Barbie doll. I was shocked. When I questioned this contradiction, she said, "It's just a princess." Albeit, a princess with large, perky breasts, and not a bit of cellulite! Don't all princesses look like that?

To this day, I cannot look at a Barbie doll without seeing all the silly sexist elements to the doll - it is actually quite humorous. However, and clearly I am not a psychologist (just a "plastic" surgeon!), I believe that just as playing with a toy gun does not make a boy a killer, that playing with a Barbie doll will not psychologically damage a young girls self esteem and/or body image (Hollywood has that one covered!).

My mother passed away several years ago - it would have been fun to talk to her about Barbie's 50th anniversary. I am sure that she would have had some insightful thoughts and comments, and possibly a real explanation for why it was okay for Elizabeth to have a Barbie doll, and not me. My guess is, that with time, she learned that it isn't the doll that makes the girl, but rather good mothering and she was the best!

If I could design a 50th anniversary Barbie, I would name her "Menopause Barbie." She would have a flirty salt and pepper bob, and wear a Dalai Lamaesque toga, with Lilly Pulitzer prints. I would of course preserve her fabulous plastic fantasy figure, and she would come complete with a boy toy. "Life in plastic is fantastic….."

Happy Birthday Barbie!

Public School Envy

Will and I just binged on a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos…I have been picking Doritos crumbs out of my keyboard ever since – it serves me right. At first, I could not figure out what had happened to my computer. Every time I typed the letter "I," it would not work so, I took the "I" key off and there it was – a Dorito crumb. I blew it away only for the same thing to happen with the "H" key, and so forth. After a while, I succeeded in getting rid of the crumbs by blowing all of them onto the car floor all the while feeling confident that one of our three dogs would eat them. I have learned a valuable lesson: the next time that Will and I have time to spare we will not stop at a convenience store and binge on junk food in a parking lot. Ick, it must be the state of the economy that made me do it (they were delicious though)!

Unfortunately, the economy is in the forefront of all of our minds - whether we like it or not. It is unavoidable and quite depressing (hence the comfort food). Some of us have lost our jobs, and those of us who have been lucky enough to keep them are not sure how long this will last. In a society where we are used to being in control, the uncertainty of the economy is starting to take a toll. It has touched all of our lives in one way or another.

There is a definite change in the energy around me -the buzz is gone. Shopping, which has become a "sport" for many Americans, is now done out of necessity – milk, bread, new school shoes, etc. Indulging no longer feels as good as it used to - the guilty pleasure that we once enjoyed has turned into plain ol' guilt. We second-guess our purchases – "Do I really need those shoes?", or we wait for them to go on sale. The "haves" are quickly becoming the "have no ts" and "staycations" are becoming the norm. Our happy-go-lucky days are temporarily on hold...I hope.

Private education has become an area of uncertainty for many families. They are having to ask themselves the unthinkable - "Are we getting our monies worth?", and even worse (in their minds), "Should we consider the public school?" Many of you following this blog are fortunate, like me, to live in areas of the country that have excellent public school systems to use as a "fall back." These public schools are hardly "fall backs." In fact, many of these public schools are some of the finest schools in the country. Things could be worse.

When our children attended private school many parents in our town often asked me why I sent my children to a private school when the public school system in our area is so good. I never really had a good answer. Usually, I would chalk it up to smaller class sizes. The longer our children attended the private school the more Raj and I would ask ourselves the "burning question" - "Are we getting our monies worth?" In the end, our answer was NO.

It took us a couple of years, and a lot of wasted money, before we made the switch. My husband was on the Board of Trustees at the private school so he was privy to alot. He saw the school from two very different perspectives: as a parent and as a trustee. It was Raj, who for the last couple of years wanted our children to leave the school. However, I could not let go. I clung onto the ideals of a private school education, and selfishly, I felt insecure about the social implications if we were to leave private school for public school. Silly, right…or not?

At the end of the day, we all must sit back and honestly ask ourselves "What is best for our family?" and not worry about what the "Jones'" think. Switching schools was the right choice for our family. If your family chooses the "fall back" option, for whatever your reasons, I can assure you that your children will not suffer. In fact, the chance of your children going to the college of their choice is as good if not better after attending the public vs. private school.

A friend said something that helped put it all into perspective for me. She said, "I use to have private school envy." She went on to explain that at first she thought her children might be missing out, but that was before she saw how great the public school system is. Her children are happy and thriving at the public school. What more could a parent ask for?

Raj and I are both products of public school, and we didn't turn out so bad…perhaps we should all have "public school envy!"

The Donald

We have just returned bronzed and fresh from a week in Palm Beach. The children had a blast swimming, surfing and meeting other children. They were very sad to have to pack up and head back north – always a sign of a good vacation.

Esmar, our incredible nanny, joined us on vacation. Without her, our vacation would not have been nearly as relaxing. Each morning Raj and I were able to workout together, and in the evenings, we could escape for dinner on our own. Esmar is a Godsend and we all adore her.

One evening, while Esmar and the children hung out in the hotel game room, Raj and I had cocktails with a friend at his very exclusive club, The Mar-a-Lago Club. It has been close to 13 years since Raj and I had last been there. At the time, Donald Trump, who purchased the estate in the mid-80's, was on his 2nd wife, Marla Maples - and the dust from their scandalous relationship had just about settled.

Mar-a-Lago, as it is appropriately named, means sea-to-lake in Latin. The estate is comprised of 20 beautifully manicured sea-to-lake acres with exceptional water views. Raj and I have been lucky enough to see the property during the day and during the evening - both times were equally stunning.

Our first visit to Mar-a-Lago was during the afternoon. We toured the estate grounds (as Marla frolicked poolside in her bikini), and we toured a few of the 126 interior rooms. The estate, which was originally built in the 1920's by the elegant Majorie Merriweather Post (at the time Mrs. E.F. Hutton), has a museum like quality to it, with every detail from doorknobs to the light fixtures meticulously appointed. To The Donald's credit, he has done a phenomenal job restoring it. My favorite room is the bar. Not because of the room's stately mahogany walls, or because of the elegant drapes and upholstery, but because of a rare portrait hanging prominently for all to enjoy while sipping a favorite libation.

During our recent visit, we enjoyed our own libation on the terrace. The stars shined brightly above and the breeze was heavenly. The lights from West Palm Beach twinkled happily in the distance across Lake Worth, and we sat next to Mr. Trump and wife No. 3. We exchanged pleasantries with The Donald, and she smiled (I keep wondering who No. 4 will be!). A spectacular evening, but for one small detail…jets roared thunderously across the sky, for what seemed like every 10 minutes, making it very difficult to hear one another speak..."Excuse me?!" For all of its splendors, Mar-a-Lago has the misfortune of being located directly beneath the main flight path of Palm Beach International Airport... How does the "jet set" stand it?

My metallic gold Jimmy Choos worked overtime aerating the grounds (a cost savings for The Donald) as we strolled along the property after cocktails. Our visit was nearing an end, as we had dinner reservations in town. However, before I could leave I had to see it again – "The Portrait." It is not often that a commoner, such as me, has the privilege of seeing such a rare piece of art once, let alone twice. The average person has a far greater chance of seeing the Mona Lisa in their lifetime; the Louvre, is open to the public for a nominal fee, as opposed to Mar-a-Lago's six-digit membership fee.

I hobble along the sprawling lawn, up the terrace staircase and into the mahogany bar – and there it was, right before my very eyes – the most outrageous, comical portrait I have ever seen…The Donald, sporting tennis whites and his signature comb-over. OMG!

Amongst chauffeurs and Bentleys, Raj and I were graciously escorted into our rented gold Kia minivan, and excitedly sped off to our next adventure – theatre at its best…dinner in Palm Beach.

Martyr's Day

Wow, I cannot believe the emotional responses that last week’s blog, Family, generated. Thank you all for your comments, emails, etc. I’m not surprised that many of us share the common bond of a “Mrs. Dennis” in our lives. As parents we must be our children’s advocates, and perhaps by writing letters to the “Mrs. Dennis'” of the world we can help facilitate change.

As I mentally prepared my schedule for this week, it struck me that my life has become portable. I no longer need to be home to get most of my work done. I just need to be stationary for stretches of time. My mobile phone, blackberry, and laptop allow me to essentially have a traveling office. Managing the lives of 3 children, 3 dogs, a husband, a lizard (if I don’t mention Spikey, Will will never forgive me) and of course myself, means that I'm in my car often. With a brood like this, there is the constant schlepping back and forth, and of course, there is the waiting.

I’ve gotten use to the waiting, and I have learned to utilize my time efficiently. My car has literally become a second office. It is amazing what I can accomplish from it – parked of course. Whether I am in the car, at guitar lessons, baseball practice, or wherevre, it is my electronic mobility that enables me to manage this blog.

This week I have worked from the orthodontist's waiting room, a doctors office, my car, and now, the library. Aside from my home office, the library is my favorite place to write. I like the placidity - there are no distractions, no ringing telephones, and everyone speaks in a low hushed tone.

It is late afternoon, so children of all ages are here either with a tutor, or working in "independent study groups" (a/k/a hanging with friends). I get a kick out of watching the groups of older kids. For some reason I always think of the 80's movie The Breakfast Club when I see them. The only difference is that these kids are not in detention, and they all have their own laptops and cell phones. They too have portable lives.

It is easy to tell from their [the teens] body language that they are torn between studying and having fun. They actually do a decent job at balancing both. I have no doubt that there is a lot of IM-ing going on.

Today, I have noticed that there is a bit more flirtation than usual. It is subtle, but nonetheless present. It must be the tensions of Valentine's Day. As a teen, I remember Valentine's Day being huge. Sending and receiving Valentines was so exciting, especially if they were anonymous. Valentine’s Dances were also big, as it was a dance with a theme, and the theme was LOVE.

My days of Valentine Dances are long gone; I suspect that soon enough I will be reliving those days vicariously through my children. For now though, the days leading up to Valentine’s Day are sweet in our home. The kids work diligently on their Valentine cards for their classmates, and our family "Valentine's Day Mail Box" comes out of hiding. Elizabeth made our mailbox a few years ago out of an old shoebox (Jimmy Choo of course!). She chiseled a ridged mail slot with a pen, and taped a cardboard pop-up sign on top that reads, "Love is Good." We all spend days putting in our Valentine's mail in the box. What comes out is quite hilarious!

From a romantic standpoint, I think that Valentine's Day is silly. Who needs a card to remind them that they are loved? Apparently, most of western civilization – some 200 million Valentine's Day cards are given annually (according to History.com). And, that accounts only for the store bought ones! I must confess that I am one of the 200 million. Despite my proclaiming Valentine's Day as "silly," I always buy Raj a card, and I admit that if Raj did not acknowledge Valentine's Day, my feelings would be hurt. This double standard got me to wondering, just who the heck is Saint Valentine?

As it turns out, depending on the source, there are somewhere between 11 and 14 Saint Valentines. The saints were actually early Christian martyrs named Valentine. The term martyr is described as people who sacrifice themselves to further a cause or belief. Hmm… sounds a lot like what we do. Come to think of it, the words mother and martyr sound alike - mother, martyr, mother, martyr…

Raj is a romantic. A couple of years ago he planned and cooked me a fabulous meal for Martyr's Day, I mean Valentine's Day. There were truffles and scallops, and an extraordinary bottle of wine from our Bordeaux collection. The evening was perfect. The children were sleeping soundly, and a warm crackling fire illuminated the room – a truly wonderful evening. As the evening ended, we walked hand and hand to our bedroom. Satiated from Raj's delicious meal and giddy from the wine, I climbed into bed, leaned over to kiss my husband good night, and vomited everywhere. A few moments later Raj followed suit. We still have not decided if the culprit was the scallops or the truffles. We’ve been eating out ever since.

I will be traveling with my family next week. We are heading south for a much needed break, and with the hope of sunny skies and warm sea air. I will leave my “traveling office” behind to recharge, as I plan to be dozing seaside on a chaise lounge recharging my own battery.

Happy Valentine’s Day!

Czzy
My next blog will be posted on February 27.

Family

When something is bothering me, I often use writing as an escape. Letter writing in particular is cleansing, and writing a letter on a computer takes it to a whole other level…you have the power to write what you really want to say; i.e. you #!#? … and then delete it. It is beyond cathartic. I have written things to people in letters that I would never have the audacity to say in person, and then, of course, I delete it. I think part of the appeal is that it is a bit "naughty."

I wrote such a letter this week, and I actually sent it. It was something that Will said to me that prompted me to write the letter. He said, "Mommy, Mrs. Dennis said that we were all family at WPA." WPA is the private school that my children formerly attended, and Mrs. Dennis is the head of the lower school (I have changed the school's name and the head's name because I am nice). Our children no longer attend WPA because we determined that for our "family," it was not the right environment.

What bothered me about Mrs. Dennis' comment, and this is why I wrote to her, was her use of the word "family." Family is a powerful word in a child's world - family is everything to them. It is their security blanket - where they go for love and comfort. It is also a child's safety net; it is where they can fall and be caught, and where they are allowed to learn from their mistakes. Family does not judge, they protect. It was my experience that Mrs. Dennis, and WPA, improperly and prematurely passed judgement and failed to protect one of it's "family." Clearly our definition of family is different.

As I get older, the notion of family has become more meaningful and relevant to me. As a daughter, a sister, a wife and as a mother, I have many roles in my family. Each of these roles is important to me, and over time, each of these roles has helped to shape me into the person that I am today.

My most challenging role is, and I suspect will always be, that of a mother. My instinct is to protect my children. I know that I cannot protect them from everything, but while they are still young, I have the ability to place them in an educational environment where they will feel protected and not judged, and where they can be children. I want my children to understand that making a mistake is a part of learning and a part of growing up. Some mistakes are worse than others, and some will require discipline while others will not. Either way, a child should have the comfort of knowing that they will always be loved and accepted by their "family".

Coincidently, today was Benjamin's "Family Day" at our new school. As I sat watching toothless, smiling, first graders sing and dance, I could not help but think back to my letter. There was no "we are all family" speech (Thank God, I don't think I could have handled that!). Actually, there was no speech at all, just the necessary introductions. "Family Day" was a wonderful way to celebrate each child's family, and to teach and to reinforce the true meaning of a "family." It was a brilliant afternoon.

I feel better now that I have written a letter to Mrs. Dennis. The content of my letter is not important, as it was between Mrs. Dennis and me. Perhaps, the letter will enlighten her and she too will come to know the true meaning of "family."

Have a great weekend,

Czzy

Beware of the FAT Bug

I was reading The New York Post earlier this week and came across an article entitled "Beware of the Fat Bug." Apparently there is an infectious virus called AD-36 that can actually make your fat cells multiply resulting in weight gain. The virus is airborne and can cause other symptoms such as coughing, diarrhea, conjunctivitis and sore throats. I couldn't help but notice the placement of the article - right next to an article about a plump Jessica Simpson - “Jessica is a BIG star” it read. Coincidence, I doubt it. Perhaps Jessica caught AD-36 while "airborne" on her way to visit her QB boyfriend Tony Romo. And, maybe those 8 to 10 pounds that many of us gained between Thanksgiving and New Years was actually a result of AD-36 and had nothing to do with our gluttonous holiday eating (the virus can linger up to 3 months)!

Like many women, I have struggled with low body image issues. It’s no wonder given the way we are bombarded with silly headlines such as Jessica Simpson’s and with the amount of diet ads thrusted at us on practically every magazine page we turn to remind us of how “fat” we are. It doesn't stop there. Just this morning the home page headline on AOL was about Britney Spears shedding 20 pounds by doing 2 hours of cardio a day. Who really cares? Naturally next to it was an advertisement to lose 30 pounds. The ad actually had a pulsating belly.

With the exception of the "freshman 20," which for me actually happened during my senior year in high school (too much beer and nachos), I have always been fit. My motto is "everything in moderation." There is no need to starve ourselves or to work out for 2 hours a day. The best any of us can do is to eat a healthful diet and exercise regularly.

We [women] shouldn't feel badly about ourselves if our bodies do not fit the Hollywood standard. I hate to keep bring up Jessica Simpson, frankly I have no idea how or why she became a "star", but that's besides the point. Why can't she add a few pounds, she is human after all. Maybe her present weight is a true representation of her body size. Here's a novel idea, maybe she actually feels good about herself. Maybe she likes how she looks - one could surmise by her choice of clothing that she is a confident woman.

From magazines ads to television ads (thankfully NBC pulled PETA's Super Bowl ad) we are assaulted with superficial images of the ideal woman. Personally, I find it offensive that teenagers are modeling the clothes marketed to my demographic. There is no such thing as being perfect but there is such a thing as being healthy and being healthy comes in all shapes and sizes.

Czzy