3 Garzas & La Gringa

WE'VE MOVED!

2009-09-09T08:08:00.000-07:00

WE'VE MOVED! BOOKMARK US AT: http://www.garzagirls.com

Umbilical Cords

2009-09-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

I can't get the dream out of my mind: two friends, one who wants a(nother) baby but could risk her life, the other who doesn't want children. Me. Life, death and the axis in-between.

It was a mismashed dream of color and chaos. I delivered a baby for the friend who didn't want a child, while dragging the umbilical cord down the hall, still attached to the baby and mother. I was running. Not away, but toward my other friend, who was losing her life because she was pregnant.

Somehow all this life circled around me. I delivered the baby, whispering quietly in my friend's ear, telling her to breathe. She wasn't breathless for the birth of a baby, but for the fact she was having one at all. Covered in icky gunk that comes with a birth, I raced to my friend who was desperately trying to hold onto her own life and her unborn child's. I whispered to her. I knew I could calm her. I knew she'd be okay.

In the end, everyone lived. My friend who wanted a third baby so badly that she'd risk her own life, delivered a baby girl. My friend who never wanted a child also delivered a girl, but remained childless, as she gave her daughter to me. Somehow I knew she'd give her to me. I didn't name her.

Dreams like this creep me out. They come in technicolor to my imagination and stay that way in my mind forever. I wander around in waketime looking at my friend's bellies, double checking that no one is pregnant, at least yet.

Thank You!

2009-08-18T19:03:00.000-07:00

This note is from our buddy at Sacred Heart Community Center. I can't thank you, my literal and the online communities, and especially Twitter colleagues, for your generous gifts. Sacred Heart delivered, and delivered big, thanks to you.

Hi,

I wanted to thank you and all of your friends and family for helping to make a difference in our community!

I truly I witnessed a miracle the last two weeks we were way down in donations and ultimately we came out with abundance (loafs and fishes comes to mind)

Click here to see the miracle unfold yesterday.

Thanks again and God Bless,

Tim

Sacred Heart Community Center Needs 1000K Backpacks -- now

2009-08-03T17:23:00.000-07:00

It is almost time for Pack-a-Back 2009 and we don't have all the supplies that our neighbor children must have for the coming school year. We need your assistance collecting these critical supplies.

Every year, we register 1,500 children for this program. This year, due to the great need in our community, it was with great pleasure that 1,740 children were guaranteed a backpack on August 14th. At a time when state budget cuts have deeply affected children's services, and impoverished children are constantly disregarded, we need your help to achieve this audacious goal!

We will be collecting backpacks and school supplies until Friday, August 7th. Any items can be dropped off at the Sacred Heart donation station , 1381 S 1st St, in San Jose.

Our most critical needs are backpacks, scientific calculators, notebooks, and subject folders. Read our brochure for a full list of what each backpack will contain. Or you can donate directly to Sacred Heart for this campaign.
Any school supply donation or financial donation will directly impact the lives of the children. Your contribution, especially right now, is greatly appreciated.

Le Knee in Action!

2009-07-21T09:14:00.000-07:00

Most Engaged Brands -- good report

2009-07-20T08:35:00.001-07:00

ENGAGEMENTdb: Most Engaged Brands On Social Media -

The Best Six Years in History

2009-07-16T22:08:00.001-07:00

At 8:36 p.m. and 8:37 p.m. respectively, 6 years ago tonight, my son and daughter were born. I went from being me to being Mommy and forever, my life suddenly had meaning.

This picture was taken moments ago, the second, moments ago six years ago.

Dear God and all my angels, thank you for blessing me with the greatest joy anyone could ever know.

Twice Better F-ing Be a Charm

2009-07-05T22:37:00.000-07:00

Knee surgery was Wednesday to fix the one that didn't take. I had a partial menisectomy, which was fine, with the exception of 24 hours later when they thought I had a PE (aka: blood clot in my lungs). Three hours in the emergency room with EKG, Cat-Scan, Echo-gram, blood, IVs, etc. proved no such blood clot, but I was pretty shook up. I'm still a bit shaky from it.

The knee is so-so, but admittedly better than before in meniscus pain and even some areas of range of motion just four days post-op. This surgery is a six-week setback in recovery. I was set to complete physical therapy by the second week of August, now we're somewhere in the mid-Fall.

Hard is surgery and knee recovery, but in some ways, the side effects are worse. Sleep is near impossible between pain and the noise from the 24-7 ice machine droning next to my head. Medication makes me tired but not sleepy and sick to my stomach. Somehow I got my sternum bruised or injured during surgery and it hurts like hell. The Spondy I live with normally is on month two of a flare up (imagine constant, non-stop sciatica through the butt and down the legs). There's the lack of exercise, the inability to be an active mom and, currently, the inability to take a fricking shower without fully wrapping my leg in Press-n-Seal food wrap.

It's hard to stave off depression. It's hard to stay Up, happy, interested in the world around me. The kids' birthdays are next week and I've got a deer-in-the-headlights look about me. I've got to figure out how to put one foot in front of the other -- and soon.

For tonight, pain and exhaustion are overwhelming. Fear of blood clots and chest pain are making it downright scary.

Knee Update

2009-06-30T14:21:00.000-07:00

Had an MRI this morning, found out that the meniscus repair did not take.

I am having surgery tomorrow morning to remove the torn meniscus.

I am sad.

Thing 2 in a dress her Great-GREAT-Grandmother made

2009-06-28T14:40:00.001-07:00

Thing 2 in a dress her Great-GREAT-Grandmother made, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Open House at School

2009-05-26T20:31:00.001-07:00

Open House at School, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

This One's for Me

2009-05-26T20:17:00.001-07:00

I've thought a lot about writing in the past couple months -- what to say, how to say it. Can I be cheeky when life is just shit? There are kids dying in Afghanistan, what's a little knee issue, for god sake?

For two decades, writing's been the thing, the way. It started with a diary that I didn't want to lock, because I wanted it to be read. I wrote for money too -- everything from incontinence issues for a home health care magazine to big splashy front cover articles of a leading mag. I learned to move writing from Me writing to You writing. Blogging is the former: 3 Garzas & La Gringa is Me writing, take it or not.

Somewhere in between drug hazes, physical therapy rants and small kidlet updates of the past two months, I realized, it must suck to be a reader right now. There's really not much here.here unless you're me. And then, it's everything. It's my diary that I intentionally left unlocked.

So there you have it. Me not you. And so I go onto my next post, narcissistic on-demand.

Brief Update

2009-04-13T16:10:00.001-07:00

Tape is all the rage, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Saw the doctor today with some of the results from yesterday's Easter Day hospital visit. So far, it's pretty darn good news:

1. My white blood cell count is normal.
2. I have low blood volume (drink, drink, drink water)
3. The strep and staph tests are in the petre dish and so far have NOT shown signs of growth.
4. My fever is hanging out at about 100, much better than a couple days ago.

Next steps are to wait until we get the all-clear on Wednesday for the results: say it with me, "NO STREP, NO STAPH" After that, I'm all clear to go back to recovery as planned.

Another Setback

2009-04-11T21:51:00.001-07:00

I am doing everything I'm told: take the meds I'm supposed to take, rest, like down, stretch the hamstrings, do the proper exercises. Tonight, I have a fever. And a (more) swollen knee. We've been on the phone all night with the doctors. No one is sure what's going on, but they are concerned.

I am so scared. I was scared on the hill when I fell. I was scared in the toboggan, I was scared flying home to San Jose in pain meds and children. I was terrified to find out I had blown my ACL and so very upset to learn I was going to lose a big chunk of both meniscui too. I was horrified to find out that I had gotten a bucket handle tear during physical therapy *before* surgery. I was scared when I had an allergic reaction to Celebrex and broke out in hives two days after surgery. I got very scared when I couldn't move after physical therapy four days after surgery. Tonight, I am completely horrified. They are going to do exploratory work tomorrow on Easter to see what I need or whether or not I need to be admitted in the hospital.

I'm really very scared now. I could use a prayer or two.

thanks

La Gringa

Big Toothy Milestone!

2009-04-11T21:41:00.000-07:00

My little baby girl lost her first tooth today! For days she'd been pulling and poking at it, showing everyone in sight that she was going to lose a tooth. You could see the "I'm a big girl," look on her face. Last night, at Safeway with La Gringa it popped right out. As the story goes, she showed everyone her toothy grin all the way through the check-out line. Then, politely called back, "Have a GREAT day today!"

This morning, Thing 2 woke up to a gold dollar coin all shiny and beautiful under her pillow. She had written the tooth fairy a letter requesting that the fairy leave the tooth for her to keep, and the fairy obliged.

Coming of age. It's a wild view from here.

"Of Course I'm Not Allergic to Salsa, I am Mexican."

2009-04-06T10:22:00.000-07:00

...and other ditties from the dark side of post surgery

I knew that ACL replacement, 80% meniscus removal and a full lateral meniscus repair wasn't going to be pretty. I had heard horror stories of out of control pain. After a lunge exercise during physical therapy sent my knee into a Bucket Handle Tear, I also knew that surgery sounded like a walk in the park compared to the unbearable pain of last weekend.

I can remember asking La Gringa to take photos. I can remember the nurse who was cool enough to tilt the bed up so I wouldn't have a double-chin in the pre-op pics. Then I remember screaming, screaming from a really not so good place inside. The surgery was over. The pain overwhelming.

Six days have gone by since the surgery, with blurs of friends and visitors and family. Blurry is the right word. Mostly I've been nauseous, dizzy and overwhelmed by how much it hurts to take the short walk to the bathroom (on crutches, non-weight bearing). I remember praying for a bed pan and for the pictures in my son's bedroom to stop looking at me. At one point I started what I thought was a seriously artistic collection of iPhone pictures of Saltines. (I'm not kidding).

There is an ice machine that runs constantly through my leg and equal running of La Gringa to Rotten Robbie for ice to put in it. There's a range of motion machine that I am supposed to use four to six hours a day.

Then there are the drugs. So many drugs. Percocet and Ativan. There was also one dose of Celebrex where I broke out in severe hives all over my body after the doctor on-call asked me if I was allergic to salsa. When I told him, "Of course I'm not allergic to salsa,, I'm Mexican," he took that as an all-clear that I am not allergic to "sulfa" drugs. For the record, I am freakishly allergic to sulfa drugs and still Mexican.

Last night, I took myself off everything except Vicodin. I realized that the pain wasn't going to feel better. I wasn't going to feel better. I was going to have to decide to put a stake in the ground and move, however slowly, forward from there so I could look back and prove that I am better.

Pop Went the Weasel

2009-03-30T09:40:00.000-07:00

I've been rolling along pretty aggressively in my goal to be as fit as possible before ACL replacement, meniscus clean up surgery. Stationary bike, swimming, weight lifiting... I've been feeling great about my progress. Until Friday.

After finding out from my GP that I'd had a major concussion from the ski accident that had gone undiagnosed (but was reason for my odd behavior, dizziness and headaches), I headed to the gym for two back-to-back workouts.

I was winding down a workout at physical therapy with monitored squats in the afternoon with a therapist. It looked text book, first one went well, second one fine. On the third, my knee collapsed with a loud POP and a pain like I've never have known. I thought I was going to throw up from pain.

Turns out the meniscus floating around in my knee got "incarcerated" in the knee and has completely locked the knee into a bucket handle. It is the most pain I've ever experienced in my life.

Dr. T saw me at 7:30 a.m. on Saturday, injected me with some local and tried to manipulate the tissue out. It didn't work. He put in me in a full length brace from my hip to my toes and locked the brace at the position that it was stuck in. This helped control the pain by restraining movement. He also prescribed me some serious drugs.

As of today, I'm completely immobile. No walking (I can't even stand on my right foot), driving, swimming. No going to the bathroom or getting dressed by myself. We have moved into Thing 1's room and have set up a virtual hospital room in there. Losing control is the only thing worse to me than this pain. Having both is crazy talk.

Today is my pre-op appointment. Wednesday is surgery day.

Balancing the Scales

2009-03-20T13:50:00.000-07:00

We're starting to settle into Operation Hurt Mama status in our house. It's getting hard to balance the time, the priorities and the needs of the family. @La_Gringa is working double shifts between work-work and picking up the slack for me. I keep saying, "This is not a sprint, it's a marathon," but it's hard not to want to have the same pace as before I tanked it. Face it, I'm as efficient as a stoner at a Grateful Dead concert.

Yesterday was hard, painful, exhausting. Thing 1 found me trying to get down the stairs in tears and asked me if I was dying of cancer. Thing 2 has had relentless nightmares this week. Again, trying to balance these scales for everyone is so unexpectedly difficult.

Normalcy is a blur. Returning to normalcy is my immediate goal.

I'm thrilled with the surgeon we picked. He's colorful, direct and well-known for his work with athletes. This week he drained my knee (about a cup of pretty fluid) and yesterday put in steroids, which are working great. We got a diagnosis: My ACL and both parts of meniscus are toast. My ACL will have to be completely replaced with that of a cadaver. I've got plenty of bone bruising, contusions, bleeding and strains. You need about 20% meniscus to function, we'll see how it goes after Dr. Thabit gets in and cleans up the garage sale floating around in my knee.

Somewhere in between talking about cadavers and recoveries and the reality of not being able to run long distance again, my surgeon told me I could never be fat. Lovely. He felt the pressure on my knee would be just too much and could cause problems if I didn't stay super fit. I don't plan on being fat, but I didn't like being told I *couldn't* ever get fat. I wanted to slap him and eat a Twinkie.

I figured I'd be a failure at bulimia, so I started using an iPhone app called "Lose it" for caloric/exercise management. I'm not going to try and lose weight, but I have no idea how my highly active body is going to respond to being sedentary. The program, if you have an iPhone, is just amazing, smart, intuitive and right at my pocket. It is going to be key for me over this long haul.

I am a Runner.

2009-03-18T17:00:00.000-07:00

I am a Runner. I have always been a runner, even dating back to winning my age category in a 5k run around the Forum in L.A. when I was 8. Running is my sanity, my peace, my social life, my pride. As I've aged, my times have improved. My one New Year's Resolution for 2009? Run six 1/2 marathons (one more than last year) and break 2 hours (two minutes faster than my PR).

On Saturday I took a serious fall skiing on our last day in Snowbird. I'd been skiing double black diamonds all week; I fell at the top of a beginner run. I wrecked my knee and tore up my body pretty bad. So, I'm not going to be running 1/2 marathons this year afterall. And, it appears, maybe ever. That's okay by me. It's not okay-okay, but it's okay. I'm alive. I was literally thrown into a reality check of my life, and it's pretty rosey from where I sit (in a wheelchair at the moment).

I'm facing a big knee surgery in the next couple weeks -- my ACL, MCL, meniscus and some other ditties are all blown in my right knee. I can't stand on my knee at all. The pain, for lack of a better word is, exhausting. I took some Vicodin the first two days, but really, who are they kidding, I've got kids and kids with Vicodin is just not smart. Courtney Love, I ain't. But I hurt. All over.

From moment one I've been in a decent mental space about it all. My mom had a premonition about the fall before I had it, my daughter was supposed to have been on the hill with me and wasn't and, finally, I was wearing my helmet (this is my first season wearing it). Considering Natasha Richardson died of an injury to her head the day after my injury, you can only imagine how fortunate I feel. Wear a fucking helmet. Did you hear me?

I'm trying to chronicle my rehabilitation in photos and have a set started on Flickr called Ski Like a Girl.
You can follow my recovery there too.

I'm a runner. And a skier. And sometime not so long from now, you'll see me out there doing both. Just watch.

The Girl Effect

2009-03-05T20:05:00.000-08:00

If you read my blog, you know how important women are to me -- moms and grandmothers, best friends, cousins, aunties, and life with a great gaggle of girlfriends (no, not girlfriends) always in my hip pocket.

I thrive on the value of women and their amazing relentless, innovative spirits. Just ask my biotechnology neighbor who quit her job in this recession to raise her daughter (that took six years to conceive) and bakes so well that her scones are sold throughout the country. Right, those women.

If you know me, you know how I feel about raising a son, and, my deep passion for raising a daughter.

I like this video, it ain't brain surgery, but it's a reminder: us girls can change everything.

Enjoy: http://www.girleffect.org/#/video/

Full Mind, Blank Page

2009-03-05T20:03:00.000-08:00

I've got a list of posts to write, a photo essay on the boundaries of our school district, the power of what a recession can do for our families, the benefits of Botox...

But somehow, with all this living of life, I'm just simply unable to write it right now. The dishes, they are in the sink like Groundhog Day every two hours and the floors have spots and the kids and the kids and the kids have needs. I can't really write right now.

Thing 1 and the Tickle Monster

2009-02-13T18:31:00.001-08:00

Thing 1 and the Tickle Monster, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

A Fear Turned to Fantasy

2009-02-12T11:04:00.000-08:00

Before I had kids I got OCD on research: What are the psychological ramifications of a sperm donor child (known versus unknown donors); what are the potential future pitfalls; How much should I put aside for therapy; Is having a sperm donor child a selfish act; morally wrong?

I spent 11 months running scenarios, reading research (I kept a huge box of research in my garage until about a year ago), investigating options. I would run an idea for weeks on-end. What if I had a boy? Who would teach him about boxers versus briefs? What if I had a girl? Who would take her to Father/Daughter dances at school?

Both of these topics became reality in the past couple of months. I took my son to Macy's with the giant underwear-clad mannequins and went through them one-by-one, talking about the differences in a snug Willie fit versus a loose Willy fit and whether or not his male family members wore boxer-briefs. The fear I'd had was nothing more than a pack of SpiderMan tighty-whities a pair of stripped boxers.

Perhaps more sensitive for me was the upcoming Father/Daughter dance. When I saw the sign go up at school, I felt my face get hot. Immediately, the Things were asking what it said, and before I could tell them, they read it themselves. I didn't have time to catch my breath or get my much practiced replies about "Father/Daughter" stuff I'd simulated years ago. My daughter was jumping non-stop and blurting out, "I can take Granddad! I can take SuperH! I can take Uncle R! I can take Thing 1!" The entire way home in the car, she weighed which of her men would be the best suited for a Western Ho-Down in the school cafeteria. It was decided before I pulled in the driveway: Granddad, it was.

After so many years of fear -- the kind of cold fear you can't shake -- of how my daughter would tackle these kinds of events, it was her smile popping out of the car that turned my fear to fantasy.

"Mom!," she screamed while jumping and leaping and bouncing out of her cowgirl outfit, "Granddad and I had a BLAST!!!!!!"

Fears turned to fantasies in the hand of my children.

Twins Family Tweetup DATE SET Saturday March 28

2009-02-11T15:36:00.000-08:00

Book the date! The first-ever Twins Family Tweetup is Saturday, March 28 at 11 a.m.

Bring a sack lunch and your family to Rancho San Antonio Park in Los Altos for a family Tweetup!

Here are the details:

* Meet at the Farm with your kids and a lunch

* Dessert will be provided!

* Lunch starts at 11 a.m., the craziness lasts until the last kid drops (I'm guessing by 1:30)

Meet and hang out with some of Silicon Valley's coolest parents of multiples! RSVP in the comments below so we know who to expect. Can't wait to see you all there!

Please RT!

Twins Family Tweetup

2009-02-04T15:24:00.000-08:00

Calling all Twitter Twins Parents (Shall we say the TTPs?) for a Tweetup with kidlets at Rancho San Antonio Park in Los Altos. Bring a sack lunch and meet us at the farm for the first-ever Twins Twitter Tweetup.

Comment below with your vote for dates that you prefer. Please RT this post! Any questions, DM me @garzag on Twitter

DATES:
Sunday, February 22
Saturday, March 7
Sunday, March 8
Saturday, March 28

Thanks!

Making a Break for It

2009-01-30T16:24:00.000-08:00

Cost of two bottles of Children's Advil : $18

Cost of new thermometer at 4:45 a.m.: $12

Cost of Urgent Care per child; $20 x 2

Cost of Prescriptions per child: $20 x 2

Cost of bottle of S2 wine to survive kids having Strep Throat: $27.95

Cost of escaping with kids to the beach to blow it all off: Priceless

My Name is Lexi

2009-01-21T10:17:00.000-08:00

I've got a Starbucks name: Lexi. A lot of folks in my family have a Starbucks name (formerly known in my single days as my bar name), Spike, Fanny, Phyllis. I'm Lexi.

Lexi stands for Lexapro, the antidepressant I've been taking for two years. Better known at the happy pills, the meds, the livesaver, the be-more-of-me drug. I take such a low dosage of Lexapro that Scientologists probably get happier from smelling glue.

I know a frigging truckload of Stay-at-Home-Moms (SAHMS) that take some sort of anti-depressants. I've been thinking a lot about the SAHM culture the past week after four friends all were complaining of the blues.

Now before you start rubbing you play your micro-violin for me or tell me how SAHMs have been around for centuries or how lucky I am, let me tell you one thing: shut up. :) I know how lucky I am, as do my friends who are going through similar struggles. Being fortunate and having the blues are not related. Lucky, wealthy, mentally healthy, HAPPY people get the blues.

I read an article years ago -- some special edition of Newsweek or one of those -- about the depression and the stay-at-home-mom. It described the upper-middle class SAHM as one of the most depressed in our society: Get up, get on eliptical, get kids up, throw on clothes passing over the nice ones you used to wear as an executive, go into enclosed garage, get in car, drop kids at school, run errands, pick up kids at school, go home into enclosed garage, make dinner, go to bed. The article described the solitary life that is lived by these women. Relatively no human interaction, no use of their natural senses (smell of a subway, taste of a street vendor's pretzel, touch of a crowded elevator). I've been crawling the web for this study, but have yet to find it. I remember, although not a parent at the time, that story really moved me. If you find it, sent it to me.

Why do so many SAHMS have the blues this time of year? There are too many of us in my small community to warrant it a coincidence. When I looked up the subject on Google, I got a zillion born-again Christians who tell you how great it is to be a SAHM (and inevitably a handful of recipes from making playdough to Wal-Mart dinners). On the other end are the SAHMs that are not in a happy, supportive environment like I am with blog headlines like "Fucked in Brooklyn" Those are the ones that kill me. Oh for god sake. And, if one more blog tells me that laughter is the best medicine...

Upper Middle Class SAHMS like me, are happy, smart, well-adjusted women. We're brainy enough to have playground banter that goes beyond PB&J; we rally our local communities (just ask a certain County Supervisor who met me an a brigade of 100 at the local park when we demanded it fixed); we raise our children with conviction and humility and passion. We're educated and we know how to take care of ourselves, even if it is a $10 copay on a good SSRI.

So what's the deal this time of year? Here's what I think:

* We put it all together for the holidays, we make everything warm and exciting and enticing. Then, come the first week of January, it's all gone.

* We get to have almost a full month of family time -- Thanksgiving through New Year's we get our children, our spouses, our extended families. We get physically hugged more, spoken to, engaged with. Then, come the first week of January, everyone goes back to their lives, school, homes and the touching and warmth is gone.

* We get to have expanded or contracted budgets to accommodate the holidays -- buy different foods at the grocery store, go shopping for gifts and special occasion clothes for our families. Then, come the first week of January, all of us are broke and the fun is gone.

* We get to engage with food that isn't mac & cheese. We make family dishes during the holiday season, splurges, cookies, candies, tamales and cioppino. We get to drink more too (what a holiday without some Cheer?) -- Then, come the first week of January, it's gone and we're left with five extra pounds and a worn-out liver.

* We get to spoil our children with toys and activities and make-your-own gingerbread houses to celebrate the season. We get to give them special treats and stay out late and go on tours of the lights and displays all around town. Then, come the first week of January, the lights are down, it's cold and dark and the fun is gone.

What's the solution? I'm guessing, there isn't one. We, my dear friends, are doing a great job. And as my mom says, most things in life need a 1% course correction, not a sweeping 180-degree turn. I think, for me, knowing that the SAHM blues are valid this time of year is, for the most part, enough for me. And, knowing you're having it too.

Chin up, friends. We've got ninjas to raise.

Love,
Lexi

A Ninja in my Pocket

2009-01-21T09:54:00.000-08:00

"Mom, you can't leave the house without a ninja in your pocket," said my son.

All day I carried a tiny little green ninja in my jean pocket that my son had gotten from a 25-cent vending machine at Tomato Thyme the night before. Every now and again, he'd ask me if I still had my ninja and every time, I'd pull it out of my pants proudly. Yesterday I surprised him, "Got your ninja in your pocket, son?" He grinned when I showed him that I was carrying mine a second day.

Today, he's back at school and I'm missing my ninja. I've got the tiny figurine in my pocket again today. My real ninja reminds me constantly of who I am. I'm a mommy: Purell at-the-ready, recyclable bags and soccer balls rolling around in my trunk, snacks in various stages of consumption in my handbag and a ninja in my pocket. Not a bag gig, if you can get it.

You Work Today?

2009-01-07T08:45:00.000-08:00

When we decided to put the kids in Two Way Bilingual Immersion (Spanish), we knew things would be different in some ways for our kids in Kindergarten. Most parents I respect in the neighborhood opposed the program at our school -- it made me sad to challenge them with my own beliefs on my children receiving a bilingual education. I listened to every argument from my wise, experienced friends, and, in the end, still supported the program.

I knew, for example, that it was very likely that my children would not be taught to read English until 3rd Grade (Thing 1 is reading now in English on a 2nd grade level and reading Spanish 1 books); we knew that our kids would be put in class with the less fortunate kids; we knew our test scores wouldn't help the school any. Hard decision, to say the least. We went for it.

What we were not expecting were lessons that have taught not just Thing 1 and Thing 2, but have taught me and LaGringa some lessons in humility and grace that everyone could use a shot of every now and again.

Every day when I drop the kids off, one mom asks me, "You Work Today?" and every day, I say, "No," (slightly embarrassed). Every day she says, "Maee-bee-tomorrow," encouraging me. I don't have the nerve to tell her I don't work by choice, that we can afford for me to not work, that I am occasionally "consulting" -- WTF is consulting to her?

Every day I reply, "Are you working today?" And every day she tells me about her night. She cleans office buildings in the middle of the night while her child sleeps with a neighbor. She returns home in time to see him wake, make him breakfast, take him to school. After she drops him, she sleeps for 3 1/2 hours. Then she is there, at the gate waiting for him to get out of school. She walks. No car.

Today I peeled into the school parking lot to drop the Things a bit late. She saw my car and said, "You are working now! You have a CAR?!" Her sincerity brought me to tears. She had believed that because I walk the kids to school that I didn't have a car and, she thought, like her, it was hard to get work with no car. She was thrilled for me.

I watched my girlfriends leave the lot in the Volvos, Lexus SUVs and the beloved Honda Odysseys, en route to the grocery store, gym, yoga, coffee with a girlfriend. This woman looked at me so kindly as she walked back toward home and said, "Now maybe you work today!"

I will work today. I will work on remembering how blessed I am.

Project: KidGive

2009-01-06T19:36:00.000-08:00

"This feels like I won the championship," Thing 1 told me today as he held the Salvation Army tag he'd pulled from the Christmas tree at the mall. Thing 2 kept showing people in California Pizza Kitchen her tag, telling everyone around her, "There is a 9-year-old girl who isn't going to have Christmas presents and I'm going to get her a real art set!"

Project KidGive is an idea LaGringa and I have been thinking about for awhile. The plan was, like so many other families, to pick a child's name off the Christmas tree at the mall and have the kids earn money themselves to make enough to buy the toy for a child this Christmas.

Project KidGive became the focal point of the kids' days, doing chores, talking/fantasizing/questioning about the child they were so determined to help.

In the end, it took six weeks of cleaning out mommy's car, taking out the trash, folding laundry, being the "light police" by turning off the lights in the house, offering to help neighbors and grandparents.

When it was time, we went and picked out the toys. It took for.ev.er. They looked and sampled and price scanned dozens of toys, looking for the most special, coolest, most fun one they could find. At last, they were satisfied and we took the gifts to the mall.

The holiday crazed mall concierge caught on fast when I started coming toward her with two beaming kids, arms laden with presents, handmade notes and drawings that were to go with the gifts. I took photos and cried with pride. Mission accomplished:: The Things worked from their hearts for a stranger in need and for more than a brief moment, got to live the true spirit of Christmas.

How We Did It:

1. We told the kids about the project with great anticipation before we went to the mall to get the Salvation Army tags. That way, they knew what was going on and we didn't spring it on them. I didn't multi-task, I went to the mall for that reason only and I read them every single tag, allowing them to pick them for themselves.

2. We made everything very visual. We posted a progress chart that they could fill in daily. There was an unexpected bonus with this, since we were able to count how much we made for the day and how much was remaining. Good math skills!

3. La Gringa and I praised constantly for their work. We showed visitors their chart. We touted them as givers, we told them they were like Jesus (and they always added: and like Santa!). We didn't confuse household responsibilities with these special chores.

4. We made the goals attainable. This took some work, as I had made the dollar values too low at first (10 cents per chore, on average was way too low). As time went on, we had to get more creative ($3 for reading a book). We made sure there was always room for a chore (30 seconds to run around the house and shut of lights to 15 minutes of putting away laundry).

5. We let them have control over picking their gifts. Gave them the money they'd earned and took the time to drive them to (three!) stores they wanted to investigate for their gifts.

6. We gave them one present on Christmas Eve: it was the same gifts they had earned for the other children. We praised them and talked about their giving, the feeling of giving and reinforced how they had made someone else's Christmas a good one.

A Toody Ta-Ta

2009-01-06T09:36:00.000-08:00

A Toody Ta-Ta, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Heading to the Vomitory

2009-01-05T20:26:00.000-08:00

Three bouts of the stomach flu in three months had me at my knees (literally). When I saw this posted in the hallway of Candlestick Park (at the 49ers vs. Redskins game!), I had to grab a picture. Here's to not needing the Vomitory any time in the near future.

Thing Family Resolutions

2009-01-02T18:33:00.000-08:00

La Gringa Thing:
1. Run at least one day per week.
2. Have more fun with Mommy Thing.

Mommy Thing:
1. Run six 1/2 marathons in 2009 (one more than 2008); one of them under two hours.
2. Take yoga weekly, if possible. Learn to integrate it into my life.
3. Try not to be so cranky in the evenings when the day is done.

Thing 1:

1. To run more than I ride my bike. Run a race or two.
2. To give some of my toys to Goodwill all year long.

Thing 2:

1. To not complain as much.
2. To take my dance classes

My Casual Articulate

2008-12-28T21:53:00.000-08:00

My Thing 1 wanted to be with mommy this week. It feels, well, you know, like the whole world is right when your kid wants nothing more than to love on you. We talked about love this morning and here's what he said:

Thing 1: "I don't really like it when people tell me they love me. I'm not okay with it. I feel like my Didj and I just 'power down' -- you know like, powering down?"

Me: "Yes, I can totally understand that. But people tell you they love you so that you never have to wonder whose side we're all on. Your family loves you so much that they want to tell you."

Thing 1: "Well, I love them, but I don't want to say that. It really makes me feel like there is a Disc Error. Like a bad disc error. Like when you can't read the hard drive?"

Me: "Yes, son. I know what it's like."

Thing 1: "That's how I feel about love."

Thing 1 and His New iPod Shuffle Compliments of his Great-Granddad!

2008-12-28T10:10:00.001-08:00

Thing 1 and His New iPod Shuffle, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Boda

2008-12-09T19:59:00.001-08:00

Boda, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

So little time to write. I have a damn dog. Okay, a good damn dog, but a dog none-the-less.

Boda is Spanish for "wedding," and although @LaGringa don't have the right to marry in California, we do have the right to have a damn good anniversary. This year, we spent it at the SPCA in San Francisco finding our new dog. His name means something to us.

Now you can say we have a wedding.

Go No Prop 8.

Next Door Solutions

2008-11-24T08:02:00.000-08:00

I had a terrible experience years ago that reminds me of how vulnerable and precious the lives of mothers and their children are, and, every day reminded even more of how strong mothers and their children are.

The Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence is having a holiday boutique where children and mothers pick from donated gifts to give to each other for Christmas. You can get the full list of items on their wishlist is here:

Next Door Solutions to Domestic Violence

Thanks.

In a Flash

2008-11-19T21:08:00.000-08:00

In a flash of light, life passes before me. Today was an exceptional day.

We woke this morning to happy booming children, footy pajamas, smiles. In a flash, the phone rang. @La Gringa's grandmother died in the night. Although not very close to her Grammy, the reminder of life and death came through the phone with my mother-in-law, stable, calm and sad. Mexican families mourn more outwardly.

By Noon, my son was in tears. A boy didn't want to be his friend. Why? Because. That's all. In a flurry, the rush of emotions came over my boy and the other sweet boy. Then, in a flash, the boys were playing again. Do boys rebound that quickly from pain? I took a few more hours to recover.

At 4 p.m., In a flash, I find out that a woman I know now sleeping in her car with her 5-year-old son. The economy, she says, did her in. She lost the room she was renting. They are *physically* cold. I have never been so embarrassed about having a big, warm home.

Before 9 p.m., I'd received an email about a boy that had died driving home from the *exact* soccer tournament my kids played in this weekend. I don't think there are even words for it. In a flash, a boy played soccer, then died. It could have been us. Oh, it could have been us so easily. You can help his family here: http://www.santaclarasporting.com/

I'm reminded again to live in the very moment. Life passes in a flash.

Sketchy at Best... My Letter to Secretary of State

2008-11-16T20:50:00.000-08:00

Hello Secretary of State:

There is a question that has been strongly discussed in our community this week.

In short, without bias:

1. The Baptist Church of Willow Glen (in San Jose) has been vocal and strong advocates of pro-Prop 8. That is the church's prerogative, of course.

2.However, this same church was an official POLLING LOCATION for the county.

3. This weekend, the church, which donated funds to the Yes on Prop 8 initiative, gave a strong sermon on why Prop 8 should be upheld. (and lectured on the benefits of opposing same-sex-marriage).

My concern, and those of the community around us, is that the Willow Glen Baptist Church acts as a legal California voting location, yet financially and, more importantly, socially, strongly and verbally support Prop 8.

Although we do not allow demonstrators withing 100 feet, I believe, of a polling location, this church, Willow Glen Baptist Church, preaches strongly on political issues, then acts as a legal and official polling location for residents. I find this not only abhorrent, but unjust. And beyond unjust, it is frightening for those who are selected to vote at this location.

Thank you.

Stolen Post from Let California Ring

2008-11-12T19:16:00.000-08:00

I read this today on Let California Ring. I thought it was very well written.

10 Ways to Start Conversations About The Freedom To Marry

1. Think about it—what if you were told that you couldn't marry the person you loved? How would that make you feel, or change your relationship, your future plans and your life?

2. Two people in a committed, trusting and loving relationship deserve the dignity and support that come with marriage.

3. People can have different beliefs and still treat everyone fairly.

4. It is a joy to see my son/daughter and his/her partner together and a part of our family.

5. Discrimination is wrong no matter who it affects. We must work together to fight against discrimination, wherever it appears.

6. Tradition is important in our family. That’s why we’ve invited our son/daughter’s partner to be a part of our family traditions and celebrations.

7. It is not for me to judge other people. Just because I disapprove of something does not mean that it’s wrong.

8. Many couples stay together for years and not only face discrimination, but
many other challenges. In spite of these challenges, these couples remain courageous in the face of opposition and deeply committed to building happy lives together.

9. When gay and lesbian couples get married, they may finally be recognized as being part of the extended family.

10. Domestic partnerships don't provide the same security as marriage. They exclude people from marriage and create an unfair system that often does not work in emergency situations when people need it most.

...for the record, La Gringa and I have no plans to marry until the unions are federally recognized because only then does the tax break make sense for us (thank god for great CPAs who ran the numbers for us on the options of DP, marriage, single status). By the way, might we change our minds? Maybe. ;)

Sale? Hardly.

2008-11-11T19:32:00.000-08:00

In the past week, I've gotten sale emails from JCrew (20% Off Sweaters!), Old Navy (50% Off Outerwear), Kohl's (50% Off Sweaters!) and Gap (30% Off Friends and Family). I tracked down every.single.one of these discounts. Here's what I found:

1. JCrew: Two words: FUCK OFF. It doesn't help one single bit to charge an average of $150 for a wool sweater. Are you kidding me? We're not talking cashmere here. In looking through all of the sweaters on Jcrew.com, I found not one thing we'd buy.

2. Old Navy: I went into the store, and sure enough, the coats are 50% off. On sale, they're running between $50-$85. That's pretty good. Unfortunately, there is no lining in the jackets at all, so La Gringa would look cute this week in New York, but freeze her ass off.

3. Kohl's: See, now, this one is probably more me than the store. Kohl's in fact, was advertising 50% off all sweaters. The problem is the fashion of the sweaters was from the FLDS catalog, made at the Zion Ranch by underage children!

4. Gap: The sale intel came out two days ago with a serious viral campaign, but when I went to the store today, turns out the campaign is for Thursday only. Ugh.

Then there's the true idiots. The biggest offenders right now? Travel & Leisure Magazine, Luxury Link.com, One & Only Resorts. Okay, so I know I've opted in for these folks, but are you kidding me? What economy are they tapping into? What planet are you on to market to me in such a stupid way?

1. Travel & Leisure: Boasting luxury getaways to India and Saudi Arabia this month, I poured over the mag trying to remember my travels in the days before a shithouse economy and life with children. But I couldn't get past it -- what was the editor thinking? What crack are you smoking? Where is my Hunkering Down Travel? Or Find Leisure on a Budget? Idiots. I actually threw the magazine away before finishing it.

2. Luxury Link: I've purchased from Luxury Link before. Sometimes you can even find a deal. But not now. They seem to have completely lost their perspective. Giving $50 off of a $15,000 week-long getaway is not a discount. Offering discounted upgrades? Only if you win a prepaid bid ranging from $2500 to $25,000 for a week. You better damn-well upgrade me at the cost, whacker.

3. One & Only: See now, you're talking about the holding company of my favorite place on earth. About five years ago, they took over for the little La Palmilla, making it a massive celebrity destination and completely destroying the small, quiet hideaway it had been for 40 years. Those bastards are currently offering a "discount" of 20% off for holiday travel -- that would make the cheapest room just over $750 per night. For the record, I paid $200 for the same room several years in a row.

So here's my advice to the luxury travel and retail providers;

1. Do one single thing at a discount. One. Sweaters. Jackets. Hotel room. Spa services. Whatever. Do one. And kill it. Bring the cost all the way down, waaaay down. Low enough to get us previously engaged users to reengage (those of you who know me will know I'm talking about the second or third quadrant of the P&G user).

2. Don't call it a discount if you're gonna be obscene. It's so offensive. Say, "Escape the Economy" and forget about your life for a few days. Don't tell me it's a discount. Don't tell me you understand. Change your verbiage to convince me that you are one of us. It's incredibly insulting to send me a discount that isn't one.

3. Work my loyalty (yes, the P&G third and fourth quadrants). Work me slowly, directly. Tell me you know me and my loyalty to your product, your resort. Work my preferences, mine your data. Get me to engage. And reengage.

It's gonna be a long couple of years. I'm going to need more from my email marketers. You all get an F. Go back and come back with something more engaging. I have a credit card, La Gringa needs sweaters. Come get my business the old fashioned way: earn it.

Licking the Bowl

2008-11-11T17:25:00.001-08:00

Licking the Bowl, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Five Lessons for Michelle Obama from the First Lady of Class -- My Mom

2008-11-09T18:10:00.000-08:00

Dear Michelle,

I don't think there are words to describe how we feel about you being the next First Lady of the United States of America -- I can't imagine how you must feel.

I had a dream about you last night. In my dream, I was at my mom's house, and you were at the kitchen island having a glass of wine. My mom was laughing, you were laughing. Your girls were playing with Thing 1 and Thing 2 in the backyard. My parent's house, always warm and welcoming, was filled with more of the same. You were one of us.

I asked what you were doing there and you said you were getting advice from my mom. I nodded and walked out of the room. Of course you were getting advice from her, who wouldn't?

I woke up smiling. My mom has spend decades advising, guiding, leading top women in business and life. Her lessons have guided dozens of famous and near famous, powerful and influential people. Here are a few of my favorites:

1. There is always a storm. You will be looked to to be the calm that sees the cloudless sky off in the distance. However quietly, subtly, you must guide the ship in the right direction. Be the calm in the storm, mama always told me.

2. No one cares as much about anything you are or do as much as you do. So, the dramas of life are only what you let on. Don't bother feeding into drama. It's a waste of time.

3. Never curse. Never. It is simply not ladylike. Always be a lady.

4. Women are generally not truly liked by other women in business. In most ways, they are more competitive than men are with one-another. Use your wit, your mind and your smile to defeat threatened women.

5. You are a mother. There is nothing greater than this. Work/life balance is easy to attain when you've got that straight.

You will never read this, but mom will. And it was a cool dream. And I'm still trying to master these top five lessons from the First Lady of Class.

My Prop 8

2008-11-05T19:02:00.000-08:00

Last night we as Californians gave more rights to animals and fewer to same-sex couples. It's mind-baffling.

I have never believed in the idea of gay marriage -- mostly for the icky visual. @LaGringa and I fighting over who had the better dress, nudging our way down the aisle, who would walk first? We've laughed about what a wedding to us would look like, and for both of us, it wouldn't look like anything. We've got our families, the bling, the house and, almost weekly, get the giggles after 11 years of friendship.

But what I've learned through this process is that I *do* believe in gay marriage for one single reason: I believe in the civil rights afforded to every person, irregardless of who they go to bed with at night. On Sunday night, I started to panic -- what if Prop 8 passes and we didn't do anything to help? Are we hypocrites? Are we failing a community we've so deliberately shied away from? Would people I know ever vote to take away my basic civil rights they themselves are afforded?

On Monday I Twittered about where to dig up a 'No on Prop 8' sign and I was directed to the Democratic HQ in San Jose. As I walked in, a group of people were leaving to go hold signs at the main train station. I grabbed two signs and ran home to change clothes. If I was going to stand up publicly, I wanted to look as girly as possible.

At the train station I was surrounded by other No on Prop 8 sign holders. Many of them were from my town, several had their kids in tow. These folks weren't some radical freaks, they were moms and dads giving an hour of their own time. An hour to a parent is so precious. Not even one person I demonstrated with was in a same-sex relationship. NOT ONE. These were parents of young children, smart, educated, friendly, kind people who stood by me on a rainy Monday night to fight for MY rights, not theirs. I have rarely been so humbled.

I carried my sign around all day on Tuesday, stopping at random places where Yes on Prop 8 folks gathered. I did not speak (and you know for me, that's a feat), instead, I smiled. I held my little sign that said, "Equality for All" on major street corners in San Jose and Campbell. I got waves and honks and smiles and thumbs up. Once I got a "boo!" and twice someone screaming out their car, "Yes on 8!", but hey, I was good a good target. A buddy of mine saw me and pulled over, came to the median to chat with me while I held my sign. He's a die-hard Republican. He told me not to worry, that all his Red friends were voting No on 8. His words, "Everyone knows that that's ridiculous."

Somewhere in the middle of this, I started to think about Portia and Ellen deGeneres. Were they freaking out? Calling their lawyers? Standing on street corners like me? I decided to txt @laGringa and call our tax accountant. If we were going to get enough of a tax break, that would be reason enough to head down to the courthouse. We agreed to go, made an appointment for 4 p.m. when a mass marriage was being held for folks that had the same idea we did. I drove to the courthouse and... well, that's as far as we got. I chickened out.

As the polls unfolded last night, @laGringa and I were profoundly sad. Were we such bad people that we should give more rights to animals and less to us? How do we explain that to our children?

Today, we have gotten condolence calls, hugs, txts, voicemails and emails. I sat on a bench rewinding the last few days and came away with this: I live in a community that stands by me, for me and grieves with me. I live where I am free, treated with respect and dignity. There is not one same-sex couple on my street, yet there are multiple "No on 8" lawn signs up and down the little suburban nook I live in. I am blessed.

Indeed, we lost basic civil rights last night. It is serious and grotesque and it's not over yet. But that was last night. The fallout for me has been profound: I gained a reminder of how lucky I am, how honored we are to live amongst such an extraordinary community. And further reminded how deeply I adore and respect my spouse.

Follow 24 Hours of Election Day from My Perspective

2008-11-04T10:35:00.000-08:00

I'm using the Flip to catalog events on this historic election day from our little town.

You can follow it here!

1 - Obama and McCain are Like Tom and Jerry

2008-11-03T12:26:00.001-08:00

1 - Obama and McCain are Like Tom and Jerry, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

Too. Tired. To. Write.

2008-10-26T20:46:00.001-07:00

Tuesday 1:30 a.m. -- Drive to Disneyland
Tuesday 9 a.m. -- Enter Disneyland
Tueday 9 p.m. -- Get to hotel
Wednesday 9 a.m. -- Disneyland
Wednesday 5 p.m. -- California Adventure Trick or Treat party
Wednesday 11 p.m. -- Get to hotel
Thursday 9 a.m. -- Disneyland
Thursday 5 p.m. - Drive to San Jose

Time was so fast, but so magical. I'm beyond tired. So tired I can't think straight. We got back on Friday and since have gone to school, ballet, a housewarming party, soccer game, block party, parents' housewarming, ran a 1/2 marathon, birthday party and Sunday dinner.

I'll write more when I can breathe. It's not now.

...hope these pics will suffice. Much love, Garza G.

Three Favorite Kinder Games (so far)

2008-10-01T15:54:00.000-07:00

The Sprout years are over (thank God) and I've noticed that other than sports of just about any kind, the Things are pretty bored with their toys. I headed over to Lakeshore Learning to find some more engaging toys. So far, I'm loving these three:

1. Great States Junior. It's a map of the US with three categories of questions: visual matching of state shapes, pictures of what is produced from the states and counting the number of states that have certain letters in them. The object of the game is to get as many cards as possible, but I like it because it has a CandyLand aspect of everyone winning by completing the trip around the US. Another reason this one's a hit is because it's got enough engagement for kids that are learning to read and those who are still iconographic learners. Buy it at Growing Tree Toys

2. Question of the Day. This game lives on our kitchen table. Each day we get to pick one of the 100 questions in 10 categories to ask the family. Questions range from "How do you feel when you go to school?" to "Do you remember your dreams?" Each person can pick from one of 8 icon answers or a blank card to give your own answer (you know the Things always use this one). The game comes with a big cloth board to put answers on, but we use it as dinner table conversation starters. The kids love it and so do we. Buy it at Lakeshore Learning

3. Spanish Bingo. I have to admit, this is not the easiest Bingo game to play, for one, there is no wheel to spin so the old schoolness is lost here, but this game is pretty. The shapes and pictures are beautiful the cards themselves are artistic and unique, making a relatively dumb game (unless it involves winning money), a lot more fun. We have the game in Spanish and there's a huge bonus here too -- they're learning the words associated with the pictures in their newly adopted language. Buy it at Genius Babies.

Got any great kinder games for us to try out? Would love to hear!

Not Quite the Blue I Was Hoping For

2008-09-22T16:30:00.000-07:00

I don't know why it is that I assume that every.single.person I know and respect must be an Obama voter. I didn't say Obama fan, freak or bumper-sticker-holder, but simply an Obama Voter.

But my view of the world, quite obviously isn't shared by all, and certainly not all that I know. Four examples this week kicked me flat on my face in disbelief. What can I learn from it? I'm not sure. Do I care enough to invest in trying to change just one vote? Nah, not in California since CA is going to go to Obama. But you have a look-see and tell me what you think:

Two hot girls walk into a bar and start chatting with the bartender...

Description: Tatooed dude, overweight but jolly, kind eyes.
Lifestyle: Broke and happy. Loves his life as a single dad, loves his kid, great smile.
On Obama: He's the worse of two evils.
On Palin: She's so fucking hot. Don't you think she's hot?
On McCain: ...
On voting Red: I am not that into the idea of scaling down the military since I'm a military guy; my dad was in the military and I was in the Navy. I didn't like it when Clinton did that. It pissed me off.

On being Anti-choice: I got a girl pregnant. I'd never let her have an abortion. She wasn't my girlfriend. I just was a man about it. You gotta step up. I stepped up, so that's not an excuse.

The Boy Next Door...

Description: White guy, medium build, football and sports fan/coach/ref.
Lifestyle: Family guy, divorced and remarried, young kids, straight laced, Catholic.
On Obama: He doesn't have hardly any experience. He'd better pick a good running mate, but that won't make a difference for me.
On Romney: He should be President. He knows how to run a business and America is just one big troubled business.
On McCain: ...
On voting Red: I'm voting for the most experienced candidate. And I don't want any more taxes.

Playground Whispers...

Description: Two white women with young children under age 12.
Lifestyle: Relatively upper middle class, married, church going, community involved, SAHMs.
On Obama: I wish they would have had him run for office in eight years. It's just too early. I am older than him!
On Palin: She's got it all together. It's great to see a woman who has it all: work and family. ...They are going to call her a bitch, but if it was a man, they'd call her tough.
On McCain: He's gonna die in office and Palin will be President.
On voting Red: She represents 'us'.

I'm a Libertarian, Right Dad?
Description: White first-time voter male
Lifestyle: Middle class, great family, junior college
On Obama: He doesn't know jack shit. He's trying to be too popular.
On Palin: She's cool. She's not going to be President anyway.
On McCain: He's obviously the most experienced one.
On voting Red: Since Ralph Nader isn't in the election, I'm going with McCain.
On Abortion: I only had one girlfriend have to have an abortion. Mexico is like a six-hour drive if abortion was ever illegal anyway.

I've had my ears open for a couple of weeks, trying to understand outside perspectives. I'm not going to knock on doors, make calls or invade people's privacy; it's just not me. Not to mention, in some cases, La Gringa and I could swing a vote in the wrong direction, so I'm trying to be mindful there too.

I am constantly amazed at how, like CNN reported today: "We keep telling them the facts, but people want to vote the way they want to vote, despite facts." (in reference to Palin lying about the Bridge to Nowhere fiasco). I wonder, is it just smart, sophisticated people that vote Blue in this election? Maybe that's why I counted 14 Obama lawn signs within 1/2 mile radius of my house, but not a single one for McCain. Are there lawn signs for McCain in Pennsylvania? I'd like to know...

And it's just not in my neighborhood that I'm seeing such strong, unexpected divisions: On Twitter, I've had to unfollow several people whose daily lives I've followed for more than six months because of the aggressive stance in favor of Sarah Palin and John McCain. One woman I correspond with sent me a "Which Candidate Kills Babies" document. In many cases, on Twitter, in particular, people are drawing lines bases on political affiliation in a zone I've thought to be agnostic and accepting.

Facebook seems to be much more in-line with my own philosophies, but a bit trendy in the Obama frenzy. It's cool to be an Obama fan. My ex-boss is a state senator in a swing state, and he even has backed off from being vocal. Facebook appears to be a popularity contest where Obama is king.

There is hope, though: I've yet to see a "McCain is my Homeboy" t-shirt.

Grandma Loved the Cowboys

2008-09-15T20:18:00.000-07:00

...so I hooked her up tonight to watch them play Monday Night Football tonight on the big screen. You probably have a better view from heaven, but just in case, you know.

Love you, abuelita. Miss you.

xoxo
me

dear god

2008-09-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

Dear God,

I hope you're doing well. Thanks for the awesome summer and the incredible kidlets and and family. All's good down here. Kindergarten is fine, except for that one little hiccup on the second day of school and we're really loving Spanish Immersion, even if the kids can't understand a thing, but hey, they didn't understand a word at their Hebrew preschool either. Leg-up, I say.

Anyway, the house is good, even though the disposal and dishwasher don't work which is kind of a mind-trip since this is only my third week as a nearly stay at-home mom. Are you testing me, God? Because I think you won the last round when I didn't know how much bleach goes in the wash and poured it all over my khakis (stay at home moms wear khakis).

Thanks, God for the awesome job you worked out for La Gringa. She really loves it. We now truly embrace the goodness of mobile porn like never before. But trust in her, truly, that if there is entertainment beyond porn to be found, La Gringa will make it happen. Before you know it, those booby videos will be slapstick somethingruther instead and that will please you, I'm sure.

I've got one small request (well, beyond helping me figure out the whole smudges on the baseboards thing), can you please, since she claims to speak to you in tongues, go tell your loyal follower Sarah Palin to step off my jock? In fact, can you help her find her way to, um, I don't know, Russia (since she can see it from Alaska), or even um, something a little more up her alley, like how about Steve Irwin's old job? She could be the Barracuda Hunter. She'd like that. And so would I.

Oh and one more thing, God, I think you're cool for doing this whole Women Can Have it All thing. It's really been an eye opener, um, sort of. WWMMD (What Would Mary Magdeline Do)?

Amen.

Threads that Suck

2008-09-09T16:46:00.000-07:00

La Gringa and I are convinced that clothes have become increasingly cheaper in make, threading, ripping, shrinking, fading color within months. In honor of Fashion Week in NY this week, here are our Top 5 biggest offenders. Buyers beware, but don't let it stop you, it doesn't stop us.

5. Victoria's Secret Bras -- the Up in the Uplift only works for as long as gravity takes to unlift the little darlings. They stretch like mad too, especially the IPEX line. Victoria's Secret tops -- Okay, so if you're going to buy clothing from a mass market lingerie shop, then I'm not sure what I was expecting. However, I've pushed four shelf-bra summer dresses to a giveaway pile that I just bought in May and four halter tanks straight to the bin. VS can get you laid, but their color fades. Oh look, I rhymed.

4. Banana Republic summer tops -- the cotton fabric, albeit soft and good basic style has absolutely zero staying power. Cotton tanks with lace unravel like mad and the tag in the back causes little holes on either side of it, knocking the $24 tank into the tanker.

3. Crocs. These things are bullshit and we all know it. First, they make my kids trip all over the place, second, there is no true sizing on the things and third, they stretch out and lose shape very easily. We opt for Keens instead.

2. Costco-bought random wear -- I have no idea which sweatshop this stuff is made in, but it goes beyond even my deepest bargain shopping. This year alone we've thrown away (not even Goodwill'd) two bathing suits, two kids sweatsuits, about a dozen socks, two pairs of pajamas and an Easter dress.

1. The biggest offender of all in our house has absolutely no business charging $185 for one pair of fricking jeans. Shame on you, Joe's Jeans (petite fit) and Seven for All Mankind (boycut) for actually getting smaller. Do you know how hard we work to stay in our jeans and you f with us by progressively shrinking them? My Joe's were dragging on the floor five months ago, today they are above the ankle. That ain't fashion, honey.

Top 5 Staying Power Clothes to Invest In

5. Kids Levi's -- The kids actually outgrew them before they tore, shrank or faded.

4. JCrew cotton skirts -- Got mine at the outlets four years ago and wear them at least four months out of the year.

3. Bloomindale's brand basic sweaters -- The cashmere ones don't hold up quite as well, but the plain sweaters, from pima cotton summer ones to merino wool winter ones have great fit, quality and solid fashion (although not top fashion). Sweaters run from about $75 to $250 but worth every penny for everyday use.

2. Ferragamo Handbags -- Well, now, I didn't buy my own Ferragamo handbag, it was a handmedown from my mom, but I've seen her use them for years and mine gets compliments all the time (it's 8 years old). They quality is unsurpassed. The chances I'll ever be able to afford another? Close to nil. But I got one!

1. Wacol Bras -- Timeless, high quality, well built, well worth the near fortune for one set of booby holders.

So what's wrong with you? Get shopping! My favorite shopping sites: Zappos, Etsy , Bloomingdale's and, the necessary evil, Amazon.

Feeling Right at Home

2008-09-08T12:56:00.000-07:00

I've been waiting until I truly felt something to write about the kids first weeks in school, my seismic shift to being at home all the time, the advancements of La Gringa's work beyond our little company. There's been so much inspiration everywhere, just none that has sprinkled its dust on my urge to write.

My mom -- having been a mother, a senior executive, philanthropist, paralysis and war survivor, wife, sister, friend and role model -- has said for years:

Women can have it all, but not all at the same time.

I've never agreed with her, until now.

Somehow in the midst of female powerhouses from Dara Torres and the US women's soccer team to Hillary, Michelle and yes, even Sarah Palin, I've suprised myself that my sole focus has been CEM (Chief Executive Mommy). Now all the women I just named are working *and* raising kids, and maybe they're better at the multi-tasking thing than I am, but I've never been so certain that I am finally exactly where I should be -- home.

I completely got off today on finding this Mr. Clean thingy that gets rid of wall scuffs, and tootled around the house getting rid of marks on my walls while blasting the TechCrunch 50 (#tc50) through the wireless speaker system in the house. I've shot off a few emails to clients, potential clients and past clients with ideas that have recently popped up that I have been unable to muster for months; and amidst the confusion of figuring out the mystery of laundry darks and lights, I've managed to flesh out a couple of business ideas I've had on the back burner forever. I even had time to RSVP yes to my first-ever PTA meeting for tomorrow night moments after chit-chatting with a VC buddy of mine about a business plan I was asked to read.

So yeah, I'm scaled back... waaaaay back in one job and ramping up like a fiend in the mom gig, but I'm liking the balance, I'm liking how much more creative I am when the pressure is less intense, I'm amazed at how much I truly, truly enjoy my time with the kids and how nothing comes close to the feeling of doing this job well.

La Gringa's Got a Tattoo!

2008-09-07T11:06:00.000-07:00

Well, some people get married, La Gringa gets tatted (Is tatted a word?). I could tell you about our date night of spending an hour at the tattoo shop, or the cool guys there, the wild music and how silly we felt being all dressed up for date night (dress and wedges somehow didn't fit the look there), but I think La Gringa's rear can say it all.

HRC Baby, You Know Me

2008-08-26T20:41:00.001-07:00

I feel like I need to get this on "paper" for my daughter: Thank you Hillary Clinton for your work tonight. You represented me, my mother and my daughter so well. You made history tonight; feminine, a pro, direct, American, a class act. I can't imagine what it was like tonight for you. But I'll tell you what it did in this family:

"Eighteen million cracks in the ceiling," makes it just a tiny bit easier for my girl to blast through it someday.

Highlights from the First Day

2008-08-26T14:33:00.000-07:00

1. Thing 2 stood at the door screaming, "Bye Mom, I'm going NOW to Kindergarten!" She did that for about a half-hour.

2. The class indeed is 100% in Spanish. The kids are already asking what this and that mean in Spanish. The word of the day? Helado! We got the kids ice cream sundaes at 31 Flavors after the first day today. (a nod to our own childhood special occasion place).

3. Thing 1 was a little shaky, but confident. His teacher is gorgeous, kind and smart. She's perfect for him. He's got three friends from preschool in his class.

4. Thing 2 found the most scared child around almost instantly and plastered herself to the girl. When the kids left the room, she took the crying girl by the hand and kept telling her, "Mommys always come back, don't cry." Later, when I praised her for her kindness, she smiled at me and told me, "That's my job, mom."

5. The Things teachers have very different styles. Somehow I expected a lot to be the same. One gave a PPT presentation while the other artistically floated between languages and conversation. I learned that not even the field trips will be the same -- I've got a lot ahead of me as chief mom.

6. The Things were EXHAUSTED after just a couple of hours. They are hankering for school tomorrow already and have picked out their clothes.

7. It takes about 25 minutes to walk to school leisurely; a lot longer than I thought it would. Good to know!

I tried to let go gracefully today, but I paled in comparison to my children who took every moment of change from teachers to new rules, clothes and friends. Today is a day I will never, ever forget.

Home Changes

2008-08-25T22:22:00.000-07:00

Mommy: I have to finish my chores, so I can't play anymore.

Thing 1: Why? (x300)

Mommy: I have to do more chores now so I can be the one to pick you up from school every day.

Thing 1, Thing 2: What chores can we do? Let's put away the clothes! Let's clean up! I can help! Clothes are put away! What's next Mom?

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. No crying until after Wednesday, the first full day of Kindergarten. This is harder and more precious and more beautiful than I thought it would be.

Kindergarten Class Lists are Up

2008-08-23T09:35:00.000-07:00

I don't even have words...

Washable? My Sorry Domestic Ass

2008-08-20T17:35:00.001-07:00

The top three stupidest arts and crafts products purchased this summer:

The Crayola Sidewalk Paint Sprayer

Riiiight. Unless Crayola meant wash and wear, this paint is not at all washable, leaving stains on my sidewalk, bricks and children's fingernails for days on-end (Yes, I washed the children and the bricks -- although I gave the bricks a better scrubbing since they don't yell at me.). Did the product mention the part about splattering out of the sprayer on all sides, leaving a massive green muck explosion on my walkway?
Rating: Colored Crap (CC)

Party Hair Color

Such a great day camp my kids attended that I'll even forgive the "temporary" hair spray. So temporary, in fact, that it wouldn't come out for six days. That's six long days of strangers asking me if we were "at a carnival today?" I sent La Gringa scrubbing poor Thing 2's scalp after photos from The Picture People came back a little, um, reddish on the noggin.

Rating: Colored Crap with bonus Chemicals. (CCC)

Elmer's Squeeze 'n' Brush

And the winner for the dumbest Target purchase of the summer season: The Squeeze 'n' Brush which is more like Squeeze and Burst (All Over My Kitchen Walls). Washable? Okay, fine, on the table, yes, on the walls, sure with a little elbow grease and Clorox Cleanup, but on the kids and me? NFW. I can't get that fricking paint out of my nail beds for all the manicures in Vietnam.

Rating: Exploding Colored Crap (ECC).

I'm sticking to Marks'a'Lot permanent markers. Even *that* washed off the kidlets easier -- well, at least with a little baby oil and a brillo pad.

My Son, Michael Phelps?

2008-08-18T21:33:00.001-07:00

My Son, Michael Phelps?, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

The Band Played On

2008-08-15T14:01:00.000-07:00

Last night Thing 1 talked me into buying him a hotdog (guess the organic pistachios and flat fruit didn't cut it.) at the Music in the Glen at WGE. As we were ordering, the old Kwanis Club man serving the food, began to collapse, his brain, you could see was being attacked -- aneurysm? stroke? He fell to the ground right in front of me, shaking violently from the seizures that overcame him. I was horrified, frozen.

I couldn't move back and I couldn't move forward, I was trying to stay calm for the kids and people scurried to his side. A beer-filled EMT screaming at us to lie him down, people screaming into their cellphones to 911 operators trying to be heard over the live music. The man's body just kept writhing, splattering salsa everywhere. I was saying over and over to myself, STOP SHAKING.

I looked down and the Things were both crying.

I sat down in the crowd to talk them through what they just saw. Thing 2 said she was crying because she didn't know if the man was good enough to go to heaven. Thing 1, well, he said through his tears that he was crying because the man died before he could give him his hotdog and he was *really* hungry.

I wanted to laugh outloud. I'm not sure why. The absurdity? The truth that comes from children? The kids were truly let down: no music, no hotdogs, no stickers from the fire fighters. I wasn't quite sure what to do. We said a quick prayer together and to hammer home the message, Thing 1 finished his prayer and asked if the hot dog man was dead could he go see the popcorn lady?

The ambulance pulled away, the music started again with the band leader saying, "I'm not sure if we have something in our playlist for this moment," then began playing "I Get By With a Little Help from My Friends..."

Are We Wearing Sparkle Butt Jeans This Fall?

2008-08-14T16:13:00.000-07:00

Are we supposed to be wearing sparkle bum jeans again this year? Are we going low rise (man, I hope not) again or the super high rise that defies all fashion on the planet?

And by the way, what's a mommy supposed to wear to the park? If I see one more pair of khaki 3/4 length pants and cut little shelf bra tank...

Anxious to see what the Wal-Mart 11 Moms think...

Tennis Camp

2008-08-12T23:42:00.000-07:00

Mr. Rogers -- The First Social Media Evangelist

2008-08-06T19:36:00.000-07:00

I normally don't blog about work, other than my lameass struggles as a mom trying to work and visa versa. But talking to an old friend today, got me thinking about Mr. Rogers and social media -- my entire industry became clear to me. Mr. Rogers was the first-ever social media evangelist.

When I was a kid, I was a Mr. Rogers fanatic. I never liked cartoons (too fake), but with Mr. Rogers Neighborhood I could learn, share and -- with all the transparency in the world -- enter a world of make-believe.

What Social Media Can Learn from Mr. Rogers:

1. If you invite someone into your world, address them as personally as you can and let them see more than the front door.

2. Learn something. Listen to someone. Teach something. All the time. The synchronicity of these things working together that Mr. Rogers does with such ease is what marketeers investigating social media cannot seem to grasp.

3. Pick a topic other than ones you are interested in. Even toilets are interesting (I stopped being afraid of falling in after seeing that episode with Mr. Rogers). Mr. Rogers was best known for engaging in real conversation with people of all walks of life. Does your social media strategy do that? Do you care? Are we just numbers?

4. Engage in make-believe, but let your audience know that you are. No fakes allowed in social media. That's a big stretch for the PR industry (although my best client is doing great at embracing the idea) whose world is about spin.

5. Be human. When my mom took me to see Mr. Rogers Live as a kid, I was star struck. My brother crawled right up on the stage and sat on his lap. I gave him flowers. I knew him already. I know his world because he let me see it.

6. Be honest. I had no fear of Mr. Rogers, not one single episode. I don't have a fear of anything he addresses with my own children. I trust him. Over time, he and I built trust for one another. He trusted I'd show up to watch his show and I trusted that he wouldn't frighten me while still showing me a new world.

7. Move slowly. Mr. Rogers' ability to let us learn as he slowly drew us in was always mesmerizing to me. We have the ability with social media today to blast out emails, slam opinions down a Comment field at the speed of light or Tweet our frustrations so fast, even auto-fill can't keep up. Move a little slower. Remember to unplug (that means even ones without plugs) and walk away every now and then. The web is a crazy index -- careful not to get caught up in using the megaphone too quickly because it'll be out in the sphere forever.

8. Stick to your convictions but never, ever, be disrespectful. Mr. Rogers was a vegetarian, Presbyterian minister and conservative. However, his lifestyle never encroached on anyone else's. He was always courteous. Social media can be a breeding ground for disrespect. Respecting our consumers, our readers, our fans, friends and colleagues (however different their take is) is an absolute foundation of our industry. I've seen CEOs mouth-off on blog comments like they were in a combat zone. We can, and should, do better.

9. Let technology pave the way, however frightening. Mr. Rogers spoke before Congress during the time when VCRs were becoming household items. He was a strong supporter of the home-based technology and its potential. He spoke on behalf of parents, children, as an educator and television producer. Afterwards, his show had a short feature each day called "Picture Picture" where a video tape, delivered by the mailman, would play, teaching us all something new. Social media's current darlings like Twitter, FB and mobile video (yes, honey, that one is for you), are only precursors to what is next. What is next? Who knows? But Mr. Rogers knew enough to stand on the bleeding edge of technology.

10. Stick to it. Come on, seriously. The Internet (don't give me that grandfathers of the internet thing) has been mainstream for 14 years. That's nothing. Social media has been popularized (although by so many other names) for two years. Mere infancy. If we have the stay power of Mr. Rogers, we'll be the luckiest industry around. His show aired from 1968 until August 2001. Through that, he managed 33 years of consistency and longevity -- two qualities social media needs to survive.

Today

2008-07-30T18:51:00.000-07:00

5:45 a.m. -- Wake up! Heart beating like a crazy woman, nightdress around my waist. Fricking iPhone default alarm is on - holy crap that's loud!

5:46 a.m. -- Lisa's out of town. I don't have to be up at this hour to go for a run. Mo-fo. Back to bed. Back to bed. Yeah, no.

6:10 a.m. -- Thing 1. Up and adam. Did-I-Know-That-Bobbafet-Can-Be-Sticky-Taped-To-My-Legos? LOOK MOMMY! God I wish I hadn't taken Ambien.

6:45 a.m. -- Okay, time for a shower. Shit, no razors. I could bite the hair on my legs off with more efficiency. Add to mental list for Target.

7:15 a.m. -- Kids are not reading chapter book with La Gringa, they are watching American Gladiators. I'm pissed. And fixated. My hair dries all whacked while screaming at the top of my lungs for Jeff (who lost).

8 a.m. -- Thing 1 cannot be consoled. Jeff, his favorite Gladiator challenger lost. He's sobbing, he's pointing out that he came from behind, that he lost his balance, that life isn't fair. At first I laugh, and later, find myself holding him tightly, rocking him, telling him Jeff the American Gladiator challenger is a winner in his heart. Thing 1 doesn't buy it. He wants Wheaties for Breakfast. Breakfast of Champions, which obviously poor Jeff isn't.

8:15 a.m. -- Go to get dressed while La Gringa makes breakfast (the only work day I get the early bird special). I didn't pick up the dry cleaning. Fucking dry cleaners, never open when I need them. Don't they know I work for a living? Backup outfit isn't bad. Add a gold belt, looking better.

8:40 a.m. -- Go flying out of the house barking orders at La Gringa to pass onto the babysitter. As I race out the door, I realize Thing 2's hair isn't brushed. She's blowing it out of her eyes with her bottom lip. Crap.

8:45 a.m. -- Head to Monsieur Beans for a coffee and remember I'm cash-less until payday tomorrow. Scrounge for cash in the car. Lotto! Run into some kind retired folks that I've known a few years back when I was retired (and not searching for change). I feel like an asshole as I have to cut them off talking about their bananabread recipe so I can hit the road and make it to San Francisco by 10 a.m.

8:46 a.m. -- I have to pee and I need a bottle of water. I go back into the coffee shop and run into a Twitter pal. Not exactly a great time to Tweetup. Bought the water. Forgot to pee. Crap, I have to pee all the way to San Francisco.

9:12 a.m. -- Nearly crash my car trying to Tweet and Drive. I'm an asshole.

9:30 a.m. -- Narrowly escape a double speed trap on 280. I was Tweeting, speeding *and* listening to Pontus 08 on XM radio, which alone, is a carwreck.

10 a.m. -- No parking on 15th Street in San Francisco. I guess I'll have to pay for parking. Oh shit, no cash. ARGH! I finally find parking by wriggling in between a smartcar and an old SUV. I nearly hit a sleeping homeless guy in my parking space. I guess they have more sympathy for homeless people in the big city than in our Willow Glen suburb. I felt slightly disappointed that I didn't tag the strung-out dude.

10:30 a.m. -- Staff meeting. Oh god, the days of staff meetings... somehow I feel happy that this client is super smart and even happier than I, unlike them, am not in PR. God help me. PR seems satanic to me. The online community old schooler in me wants to puke all over them -- but business is business and I'm learning from them how the system works from another angle.

11:30 a.m. -- Move my car. Fast, before the parking gods take my car away. Go to the ATM, say prayers. Sixty bucks pops out. There is a god. His name is ATM.

12:30 p.m. -- It's Wednesday! It's Bread Day! I absolutely plow my face into a turkey sandwich, savoring every.single.white.flour.gluten.carb. Whew. Sweating, I crinkle the evidence of my bread fix and start ticking down the next six days, 23 hours until we can meet again.

1 p.m. -- The client's client comes in. I'm frustrated. I'd love to tell you why, but I know enough to know that even this blog isn't private and I'll leave it at that. The *best* part of the meeting for me was the 125 lb. dog St. Bernard sleeping and farting on my feet. No allergies here...nope, not me. The hives are from something I must have eaten....

2:48 p.m. -- Touch the home button on my iPhone for the 100th time in two hours. I absolutely *must* leave by 3 to make it to San Jose by 4 to pick up the kids.

2:48 p.m. -- (multi-tasking meeting, checking time, wheezing and holding breath from farting dog) Thinking I hope the kids didn't drown at camp today.

2:58 p.m. -- Excuse myself from said meeting. Bolt to my shared desk. Throw everything in a bag and make a break for the door, praying my car has not been towed for overstaying my welcome in a parking space.

3 p.m. -- Low Fuel light come on. Actually, had been on, but just noticed that it meant business.

3:58 p.m. -- Arrive at camp to find children slightly sunburned but happy -- and alive.

3:59 p.m. -- Kids start crying. They don't want me to pick them up from camp. They want grandma and tell me to go away and find someone better to pick them up. I need a cocktail.

4:12 p.m. -- Pull up to home as housekeeper and gardeners are there at the same time. I have no hope. I bribe kids with CPK.

4:30 p.m. -- Mac'n'Cheese ordered, I'm nearly in tears that CPK has a new kids menu/activity booklet. God bless the person who distributes those things.

5:30 p.m. -- Kids catch me eating their dessert and tell me I shouldn't eat any more sweets and treat because it will make me fat. What do they know? Amateurs. Finally, La Gringa shows up. Life is looking up.

6:15 p.m. -- Mom calls. Work calls. Work calls again. I put an outgoing message on my phone saying that I'm not answering my phone until tomorrow. That ought to do it. Not. Distant cousin calls. Work calls again. I wish cell phones could be ripped out of the wall. The drama would be fun right about now.

6:45 p.m. -- Things insist on "Football Party Mix" from a $1 bin at Diddams party store. We all scream out “Whoomp! There It Is!" all the way home, windows down, blasting the bass cholo-style, thumping our hearts out... life ain't bad.

7:23 p.m. -- Kidlets in bed. No work tonight. Tomorrow's another day in the life of a working mama.What a fucking wild ride.

Goodnight.

The Difference Between Grandma and Mommy

2008-07-25T14:20:00.001-07:00

What NOT Going to BlogHer Meant

2008-07-20T20:08:00.000-07:00

I pouted. I wasn't going to BlogHer. I had the go-ahead from work. I had the go-ahead from clients. I could have gone. Except, I couldn't find a fricking ticket last minute and was too shy (yeah, I can be shy, believe it or not) to ask any of my contact for entrance.

I should have been there.

I never cared before, truly, about any conference. I've spoken on so many panels it's no longer exciting to me; I've worked so many conferences that it's more of a chore than a thrill. But somehow, *this* BlogHer, *this year* got to me. I did a few stunts for clients for BlogHer this year, I followed my buddies on Twitter as they boarded planes, got in taxis and stumbled through San Francisco. I was there, but not there.there.

On Friday I did a presentation for work, kids in tow, ready to go pull a favor somewhere to wiggle myself in to the conference at the Westin St. Francis.

As I walked down Powell street I saw my kids skipping and laughing and holding my hand. They were laughing at mommy being all dressed up and acting silly and full of questions and true wonder about everything from homeless people to the "Lego looking" houses they saw stacked on top of each other. Turn toward Union Square where my people were, I turned around.

I took the kids straight to good old cheesy Pier 39. We walked all the way to the Ferry building and ate shrimp cocktail sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the pier watching the boats go by. We watched street performers, did a bungee jump trampoline thingy and shopped for goodies from strung-out-tchachke-selling ladies. We ate eclairs and danced disco. At one point, staring out at the Bay Bridge a girl rolled up in a wheelchair. The name of the back of the chair said, "Westin St. Francis" -- my jaw dropped.

God was speaking to me. I thought then, cotton candy was in order.

Thoughts on Five

2008-07-15T21:20:00.001-07:00

My Things turn 5 tomorrow -- five. The big V. A half of a decade. 60 months. 1826 days.

I told Thing 2 tonight that we were having our last blessings of 4 and tomorrow we'd be having blessings of a 5-year-old. She burst out crying. She doesn't want to be 5, she wants to be 4. "I really like 4," she said, crying in her big girl princess bed. I tried to tell her 5 was the same as four but you get to do more stuff. She asked what stuff, but I couldn't really think of anything to say except that she gets to go to Kindergarten, but that made her cry harder.

Thing 1 jumped in, "I don't want to go to Kindergarten either, so if we stay 4, can we go back to PreK?" Ugh. Growing up is hard to do.

I struggled to figure out something comforting to say, but truth be told, I'm not quite ready for the fives either. I told them that their skin would still taste like corn on the cob (an inside joke), that they'd still have the same house, bed, family and friends and that I'd love them just the same. They laughed and wanted to be tucked into bed like babies, side by side, foregoing their big kid beds in lieu of huddling next to each other.

Age 4 has been such a blessing. Four is better than 3 for twins; it's better than 2 and a fricking truckload better than 1 (are you kidding me, I can't believe they or I survived that year). Four has been a year of crazy growth -- separate bedrooms, independence from each other, separate classrooms, some separate friends, separate playdates, learning to read and write and dance alone in their bedrooms. Four has been a year of reciprocal love from my Things that I had not expected to have, a compassion I was surprised to see and a burst of personality that makes me laugh hard, think often and keeps my sorry old 37-year-old ass in line.

My Thing 1 grew in manly ways -- focusing on sports with a fury. His obsessions of all things sports seemed far beyond his four years -- passion for Joe Thornton and the Sharks (memorizing their team numbers, stats and positions); gaining cult status at the barber shop for knowing and feeling crazed about the NFL playoffs, the Patriots and his beloved Peyton Manning; refusing to take off his LiveStrong bracelet after learning about Lance Armstrong, then following it up with giving out friendship bracelets to his sister, LaGringa and me, telling us that this was our family LiveStrong bracelet. I NEVER took mine off until Thing 1 finally did after over two months.

My sweet, strong Thing 2 lives to be a Garza -- she is all girl, the real kind of girl. Thing 2 blew me away as a 4-year old for knowing what she wants completely consistently, without abandon and with complete focus. Her dedication to dance, (she led her ballet recital with all the girls following her -- right or unique -- steps); her absolutely unfaltering dedication to family through letters, thoughts, articulation of feeling and their complexity always, without fail brings La Gringa and me to tears instantly (La Gringa does this hand wave thing when she starts to cry over Thing 2's compassion); her never ending ability to befriend a peer in need from an Autistic child to younger oglers and meet them on a level they can understand. She blows my mind -- her 4-year-old heart literally stops mine.

So we're onto the 5ives tomorrow. I can only pray that it brings as much joy as 4 has. In front of us is school and bilingual education and independence from each other. We'll be looking at their different interests in sports, friends and their completely different views on life.

I've got some goals for them, but only a few solid ones. Here they are:
1. Make sure we keep our morning "cuddle time," even if they use it as an excuse to watch TV in our bed. :)
2. Open their worlds just enough to grow and be there enough to make them feel safe in it.
3. Watch American Gladiators and Iron Chef America together still -- it's a silly common ground! Don't laugh, I mean it! :)
4. Try to keep "favorite part of your day" dinner conversation every night like we've done for two years now.
5. Let them be 5. Nothing more. Nothing less. And don't forget to be 5 with them sometimes too.

Happy Birthday Things. I love you in ways I never knew it was possible to love.

-- Mommy

22 Adults. 21 Kids -- At least we outnumber them...

2008-07-10T12:00:00.000-07:00

The Things birthday parties (yes, two parties same time, same place, same friends, but different parties) are this Saturday.

I'm going for low key -- we'll see how that plays out.

Grandma J and Super H have the kidlets for a few days so La Gringa and I can work and try to prepare for the party and for my nieces and brother in-law to come to town tomorrow. It's so awesome having them here to be a support to us. We're very, very lucky ladies.

Cross fingers for a great day Saturday! I can't wait! I can't believe the Things are going to be FIVE! :)

You Ready for This?....

2008-07-08T15:50:00.000-07:00

Donor Children Article

2008-07-07T08:09:00.000-07:00

Very interesting research on donor conceived children. It supports all the stuff I've read for years and years, but it's nice to see it in print every once in awhile.

Like I always say, May God bless the donor that I used. I hope that sperm-slinging guy has the best fricking life e.v.e.r -- he certainly gave that to me.

In Contrast to Thing 1's Food Habits This Week....

2008-06-26T20:42:00.001-07:00

BFF has been crazed going from therapy to therapy with the our Tobin. Today it even included baby jars filled with foods he is allergic to in order to desensitize him from them. After desensitization comes tolerance, removal of metals, and so many steps I can't even begin to understand. Interested? Try Jenny McCarthy's book... it'll give you some serious hope and perspective about food allergies and the Autism Spectrum.

Physical Therapy, Occupational Therapy, Acupressure, Behavior, you name it.

Damn that kid is going to be alllll right.

Now if BFF could just get one night's rest.

Growing Up, Bite by Bite!

2008-06-25T22:18:00.000-07:00

Thing 1's dinner tonight:

One GoGurt (yoplait yogurt in a tube)
Big bowl of Four Cheese Ravioli topped with parmesan cheese
Four stalks of broccoli
1/3 lb of baked Tilapia
Three bowls of Kix cereal
...topped off with 4oz of strawberry milk.

My boy is growing weed-style!

Vactioning Things

2008-06-23T22:17:00.000-07:00

Five days with Grandma and Granddad included:

-- Making homeade ice cream
-- Going to the pool
-- Going to the pool some more
-- Going to CMT summer camp
-- Making cookies
-- Building a model war tank
-- Baking Shrink-E-Dinks
-- Cruising around the Lexus with the top down
-- Watching Peter Pan
-- Sleeping in Grandma and Granddad's big bed
-- Pitching a tent in the backyard with Uncle M's real tent
-- Going to Bonfante Gardens

...really, they had no fun at all. :)

Desert Notes

2008-06-18T11:45:00.000-07:00

This lady came running up to La Gringa and me walking down the near-abandoned Palm Springs strip singing, "Free at Last! Free at Last! Thank God! We're free at Last!" I swear to God himself, I thought she was a runaway from a nutso farm.

Alas, no. She was referring to gay marriage becoming legal this week -- coincidently the week of our vacation. Everyone thinks we're on our honeymoon. La Gringa has taken to snorting with laughter every time someone asks us. We were busting at the seams when a couple of gay guys got married yesterday here in a $38,000 wedding for 100 folks. I hope to God that didn't include a wedding dress...

I'm surprised by Palm Springs being so, well, deserted. I am certain this is not what wordsmiths meant by the word desert. Or they did, but they didn't realize it involved a bunch of empty kitchy shops and old boarded-up fag haunts. A few old gay guys were buzzing on at Coffee Bean & Tea (yum) this morning about the heyday in the 'P.S. I Love You' they used to know -- cool cars, cute men and Bloody Marys for breakfast.

The Palm Springs I remember was family reunions, my grandmother holding court with all of her siblings, children and grandchildren at the then-posh Hyatt; zillion Miss California pageants (not me, for goddsake, but my cousin, who in fact, won Miss California after four attempts); water fights, cold--freezing cold -- condos of our friends; lots of liquor and the one and only time I tried magic mushrooms and saw stars that were so bright that I still remember the desert sky.

I'm not sure which memory to take home from this trip. At the half-way point, I'm in limbo between the Palm Springs I used to know, the Palm Springs of Tab Hunter and Frank Sinatra and the hot, dry, quiet one in front of us.

The Vacation Gods Heard My Plight

2008-06-18T10:40:00.000-07:00

...and rescued our vacation.

We moved yesterday into this tiny B&B where there is no service, no telephones, no TVs, no food, drink or fruity pool drinks. The Korakia saved our pitiful holiday.

Somewhere between the all-white Moroccan minimal decor, the absolute silence of the property and natural rock waterfall, we have found some peace.

Mom thinks that we are so burned out that my body just gave way, and although I am still reeling from the stomach flu (even bursting a blood vessel in my eye from chucking so much -- pretty), we are never far from knowing how rare this chance is to be still.

Shit, Shit, Shit

2008-06-17T10:04:00.000-07:00

Day two of our vacation and all I want to do is go home.

In the past 24-hours of vacation:

1. Pulled over on the side of the road for La Gringa work in 107-degree weather.
2. Had La Gringa freak out over not being at work and not being able to not work and not being able to work.
3. Checked into the absolutely insane Viceroy Hotel where it looks like Alice in Wonderland with L.A. folks creeping all over the place.
4. Breaking point went to broken point when I realized the droning techno music at the pool was NOT.EXACTLY.RELAXING.
5. Drank Long Island Iced tea then threw up for three hours.
6. Ordered room service and food was completely inedible.
7. Tried to go for a walk but the front door of the room was stuck and the back door is a giant sliding glass door leading out to the pool (yes, the techno music runs all night long).
8. Written two contracts for work.
9. Dealt with furious client. Then realized my mail server will not mail out, only in.
10. Finally fell asleep at 2:20 a.m. and woke up at 5:20 a.m. (so much for rest).

In an attempt to turn the tide of this awful would-be vacation, we're checking out of this hotel and going to a Morrocan B&B where it's quieter. We're going to try stick to only working in the a.m. for the next three days and work our asses off at trying to spend some time together.

So far, this fucking blows.

My Extraordinary Things

2008-06-12T20:09:00.001-07:00

Not Shakespeare Tonight....

2008-06-12T20:02:00.000-07:00

It is such a busy week, couple of weeks, that I cannot seem to put my words together. Even my Twitters are misspelled and I actually showed up at preschool the other day with a dozen bagels on a day the school was closed. (When I checked my iPhone calendar, sure enough three listings in this order: "SCHOOL CLOSED. Bring Bagels to School. School 9 a.m." -- ugh.

We're headed for a completely desperate vacation in an attempt to actually look at each other in the eye and not be tugged on (physically) by children and work. We need this. It's beyond want. Palm Springs is nothing exciting, but trying to regroup is essential. La Gringa doesn't really want to go -- too much work, too far behind, too much going on -- but there is not going to be an opportunity for another year since she's starting her new job two days after we get back. Another ugh.

The kids have had an extraordinary and emotional week; they graduated from PreK and headed to Kindergarten. The school they've been at for three years was much harder than the pre-K they've been attending for only a year (yes, two graduations x two children x two days). They'll be in a fully immersed Spanish education starting in just two months... it's daunting, scary and exciting. My goal right now is to not cry in front of them (when did this super-accelerated growing-up happen?); enjoy the summer and let them relax.

Like I said, my words aren't clear tonight. We're on a work schedule to get everything done. We're on a personal schedule, to, well, get everything done. I've got an agenda to not let my neurological system completely freak out on me and try to take it one hour at a time.

I've Been Trying Not to Curse too Much

2008-06-09T22:28:00.001-07:00

But this deserves it.

Hey, you, E.D. Hill: YOU'RE A FUCKING DIPWAD.

Read This

My Big Little Garza

2008-06-09T09:50:00.000-07:00

Bye, Bye, Love

2008-06-08T21:36:00.000-07:00

La Gringa is leaving me... for a hot little number called Startup. She's a mobile sweet talker and La Gringa is whipped.

It's a good thing; it is. It's the right thing. We've lived our fantasy of having our own business and being parents so well that anything different that our current gig seems adulterous.

I miss you already, sweetheart. But I'm thrilled you're going to go knock 'em dead for another little startup-that-could.

He's Got a Crush on a Girl Named Tyler

2008-06-04T19:56:00.000-07:00

I guess I knew the day would happen.
I suppose it's totally healthy.
But, today came at me like a carpenter bee in June.
My son has a crush.

It wasn't even subtle, I tell you, it was right at me... he walked up to me, hand-in-hand with a blonde curly haired beauty in a blue hawaiian dress and said,

"Mom, I have a girlfriend."

She beamed.

"What's her name?"

Um, he said, holding her hand tighter and nuggling his face into her curls, "What's your name?"

"Ty.ler." She said, annoyed at her man.

"Her name is Tyler, Mom."

"Okay," I said.

And they bounded off, her curls bouncing on his head, him walking double-step to keep up with her long legs. Your average day at the park? Oh, I guess. The day my son introduced me to his first girlfriend? Whew.

Hug Everyone. Hell, Hug the Grocery Clerk

2008-06-03T20:23:00.000-07:00

In the oddest twist of fate, a friend of ours fell off his horse on Saturday and is in a coma. It's not good. In fact, it's pretty very not good. On a scale of 3-15 on the Glasgow Coma Scale, he's a 4. Man, that even hurts to type...

Here is my shout-out to you to send positive vibes, prayer, good juju, whatever... please, please send them to Juan, Liz and their four children Juan, Ricky, Isabel and baby Juliana. That's right, I'm using real names. Use real prayers if you've got 'em.

"Hug everyone you love", Mrs. Grizwald told me tonight.

MASSIVE HUGS OUT TO YOU.

Work Life is an Enigma

2008-06-02T19:39:00.000-07:00

...well, not really, but sort of.

Client meeting. Rush. Afterhours. Must.get.to.the.City. Thing 1 is on a playdate in whoop-whoop Evergreen. Thing 2 is at a playdate in Willow Glen. La Gringa went to pick up Thing 1 and, well, I thought she was going to pick them both up.

I am half-dressed, one eye make-uped, hair half up in rollers when it hits me: SHITMOTHERFUCKER.

I go running out the door, snap this photo in the car on my way to get Thing 2; got to love the empty car seat in the back.

I am not great at the work/life balance thing this week.

Family Day.. Every Day

2008-06-02T09:10:00.000-07:00

There is very little in La Gringa and my life that screams, heck, whispers gay. I think both of us feel that there is no need for us, personally to be married, have rainbow anythings, go to marches or have the kids wear t-shirts that say, "I was hatched by two chicks." -- the lifestyle we have is just as suburban as can be. It's almost, well, boring.

That said, there is a reason we live such a free and peaceful life and it's because there are families out there blazing the trail for the life we are reaping now. The life that Thing 1 and Thing 2 have because of those who are out there pounding the pavement for same-sex families.

Today is same-sex Family Day for the blogging community. This entry this morning is to thank those out there working for extraordinary freedoms we have. We hope to do you proud by being boring, normal, suburban moms with a couple of well-reared, beautifully souled children.

-- Garza G.

D) All of the Above

2008-05-22T09:34:00.000-07:00

Brilliant web strategist and social media analyst Jeremiah Owyang asks in his blog today: How Do You Argue?

Oh Jeremiah, don't you know, I'm an all-or-nothing girl? Just make a box from this little triangle and you'll define my arguing tactics. Too bad my dad said I'd never be a good lawyer... I sure as hell can argue like one.

The List is Less Interesting...and Less Tangible

2008-05-21T16:42:00.001-07:00

I had a list in Fall of 2000: five goals to center myself, prepare myself for true adulthood. I set out with a backpack, tickets, maps and a deeper pocket than I'd ever had before. Four years later, I did it; all five.

Thinking back on those mammoth undertakings -- travel around the world, become a chef, run another marathon, have a child (got a two-fer there) and follow my mom into owning my own business -- and they seem infinitely easier than my new ones.

In no particular order, here is my list of five for 2008:

* Take a photography class that teaches me about my camera, not about photography.

* Run another marathon without taxing time on my family or body.

* Learn to meditate again (or at least breathe deeply without the aid of red wine).

* Find something fun to do on date nights other than eat.

* Come up with a system for never forgetting some item from the grocery store.

...ugh that reminds me, I have to go to the grocery store.

Tower Trio

2008-05-19T20:44:00.000-07:00

Grizwald Boy: "Tower of Terror!!!!"

Thing 1: "Tower of Powerrrr!!!!"

Thing 2: "Leaning Tower of Pisa!"

No, We are Not Getting Married...

2008-05-15T21:34:00.001-07:00

...ever. Happy just the same.

Thanks, though. :)

Welcome Back, Summer Nights...

2008-05-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

I missed you.

A's Fan Converts to Giants in One.Single.Bite

2008-05-13T22:30:00.000-07:00

Today I heard a study come out on the most health code violations in America's ballparks. I waited to hear about something gross at Fenway. Nasty servings at Sheah. Nope. No fucking way.

I found myself turning in my green A's cap for, well, something a little less green. Today's study showed that A's McAfee stadium has the second highest health code violations with 493,ranging from rancid food, cockroaches and rats to chemicals suspiciously close to my mouth. Fuckwits. I KNEW that crap tasted too good.

So, where does a girl go to get her game-on? I'm headed to the Giant's AT&T Park with a mere 88 violations... and proudly packing a sack lunch.

Benefits Supervisor Sleeping

2008-05-13T22:18:00.000-07:00

Tonight, 51-year-old Sue Tilley is anything, if a little proud. The fatty bidoddy woman posed in 1995 for artist Lucian Freud and, well, fell asleep naked. The painting sold tonight for a record $33.6 million; the most ever for a living artist's work.

Guess I should get over the weekend bloating and make some real cash...

Iron Chef America Comes Home

2008-05-12T11:31:00.000-07:00

Chef Cat Cora and Chef Bobby Flay made me breakfast this morning. Before each tasting Thing 2 said: "The Inspiration for this dish is my Meddy-terry-aim-ee-an history," After presenting each of his dishes, Thing 1 said, "Enjoy," then bowed.

Secret Ingredient: Cod Fish (chefs watched Peter Pan last night)

Dishes: The required five, including one Cod Ice Cream

The Winner: A lovely Cod Fish and Shrimp with corn and lamb. Mmmm.

How Cool is Our Family?

2008-05-08T22:02:00.001-07:00

Ode to Yahoo! (part 1)

2008-05-06T20:00:00.000-07:00

All day today I thought about the TechCrunch article with the headline: "Yahoo!'s Falling House of Cards." How many houses did Yahoo! buy us? Gosh, three between La Gringa and me.

I've decided to do a random yet chronological ode to my beloved purple and Yellow. This post: 1997-1998

1997 -- All of Yahoo! sales being run from a dorky short guy's apartment in NY (he's now a state senator) and out of a trailer in Santa Clara by a smooth, cheesy motivational quote-slinging dude with silver hair.

October 1997 - La Gringa and I meet. She in overalls, me in oversized sunglasses. We meet Tdwag too that month from an acquisition of Four11. Our future team had met.

December 1997 - Starving and pulling all-nighters, someone gets bright and starts bringing in bagels on Tuesdays, dumping the ripped paper bag onto a table in a tiny kitchenette by receptionist-turned-product brain EM (who is still kicking at the big Y!). It was the only food in the whole fricking Yahoo! HQ.

January 1998 - We shuffle cubes. Everyone, *everyone* is in a cube. Everyone has an all-access pass to our fearless leaders. I don't use fearless lightly. Certainly not afraid of wacky Marc Cuban whose token cube was put across from mine. Marc was the only one I ever saw running down the hall. I have no idea where the hell he was going so fast.

February 1998 Someone starts thinking we really should do some games. Yahoo Games is created by a bunch of us sitting around on desks, floor and beanbags in a producer's cube. It's happening all over the company -- Instant Messaging (Yahoo! Pager with a single hard-coded ad for E*Trade in it), Chat (where La Gringa was the Sheriff patrolling porn while I was busy selling porn for $11 million that year), Clubs (where we hired my (then unborn) children's godfather). The list went on. Inspiration was *everywhere*.

March 1998 - A few product guys and I get busted for not wearing shoes to a meeting with AT&T. Corporate pigs, we think. Little do they know, we'd been there for three days straight. Little did we know, it was an acquisition inquiry. D'oh.

A few days later, David refuses to let us run advertising on the Monica Lewinsky testimony pages that are being released exclusively to us. We could have made $1 million in that single day. We went ad-free.

April 1998 - TK stands on the cafeteria table and tells us what's going on before the he talks to the market for our Q1 reporting. None of us have any idea what it means -- we've each hit paydirt. Jerry is grinning ear-to-ear. Filo has an old t-shirt on and smells like it. :)

Spring 1998 -- Absolutely gorgeous and brilliant and fair Indian guy, VP of sales tells me to get on a plane for a handshake. Nothing, but nothing is worth the price of a handshake. No worries about budget. I have no idea how many planes I was on that year.

Summer 1998 - As we roll up the In-N-Out truck, a bomb scare hits the building. Employee #3 and big time product brain stands on his desk screaming; tells us to run like hell. We ran like fucking hell out of that building. Goddamn competitor Excite had done the bomb scare. Bastards caused us to get key cards (we had just used a regular key to get into Yahoo! HQ until then).

During the summer sales conference in Santa Cruz, our General Counsel gets arrested (he took the hit for all of us that night). I took him a jacket and went to see him and a few others in jail. They were asleep! Police let them go after getting a bit, um, dryer.

August 1998 - Our servers, some under desks, some in the server room, get under some sort of weirdness (attack?). We go black. Holy fucking shit. We finally complete the exporting of our servers offsite. The tiny locked door next to engineering with all those servers in it are now gone. Offsite forever.

September 1998 - Some guy named Seth Godin starts trolling around. Little man with a big voice completely changes the face of sales and promotions at Yahoo! I'm not sure for the better. Strategic promotions, permission marketing become my world. We're all saying, Seth who?

Fall 1998 -- La Gringa dyes her hair purple with a giant Y! in the back to raise money for charity. She was only half as cool back then...

This Breaks My Heart

2008-05-05T20:49:00.000-07:00

http://www.techcrunch.com/2008/05/05/yahoos-house-of-cards-falling-down/

Oly -- My Newest Affair

2008-05-04T23:55:00.001-07:00

Old Car in Half Moon Bay, originally uploaded by Thing Family.

La Gringa gave me a new camera for Mother's Day -- I named her Oly. It's an Olympus E510. Yippee!

Never Sad, A Little Sad. Okay, Sometimes, Periodically Sad for My Thing

2008-04-30T22:56:00.000-07:00

...my Thing 1 craves a daddy; a basketball partner; a penis colleague; a man-in-arms.

I'm not sure I ever would have fulfilled that for my beautiful, masculine Thing 1. The guys I'm attracted to are brainiacs... not exactly jocks or chain saw operators. But, strangely, La Gringa is.

La Gringa and I feel bad for you, son, tonight. I know you want a man, honey. We'll do our best to fill you up with plenty of the Y chromosome. Until then, I can dribble with the best of them, La Gringa's got a crazy shop to power tool-til-the-cows-come home and we both understand a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do.

I still wish you didn't cry tonight when Thing 2's friend's daddy didn't play basketball with you. It made me cry.

And the Cupboard Was Bare

2008-04-28T19:55:00.000-07:00

As you know by now, BFF's son was just diagnosed with Asperger's, a disability that is a sucky, but a manageable form of Autism. We're three months into the diagnosis. We've drunk bottles of wine, cried, laughed, been pissed, had uncontrollable sobs (myself included).

But this kiddo is starting to thrive. A gluten-free diet, caesin-free diet, low sugar diet and tons of behavior shifts have made massive changes to his and their life. BFF is finally getting out and about again and family dinners are back in full-swing.

Last night we had BFF family to dinner and it took La Gringa and I a few hours to figure out what the kiddo could eat and still feel like he'd had yummy food at his Aunty's house.

I took two photos of my cupboards -- shocked -- I found that there was almost nothing I could make with what I had stocked.

Pasta? Nope. Mac N'Chees. Nope. Bread. No Fucking Way. Grilled Cheese, Quesadillas, Flour, Sugar, Bisquick, Cake Mix, Butter, Cheese, even some forms of Soy are all no-gos. No pancakes, syrup or bagels, no cereal, no burgers (at least not with a bun), no Dunkin Heinz or YumYum Donuts. Ever. There goes my whole dang cupboard.

Here's our menu for last night that worked out okay:

Corn Chips with Salsa and Guacamole.
Corn on the Cob
Tri-tip
Salad with vinaigrette (no cream dressings, no croûtons)
Fruit kebabs
365 Soy, dairy free, lactose free, gluten free vanilla ice cream
365 box mix gluten free Chocolate Chip cookies (substitute apple sauce for butter).

Here's what I'm going to stock always for when my kiddo visits:

Corn Chips
Soy cheese (double check, no caesin)
Corn tortillas
Sandwich meat
Soy milk (no sugar)
Rice crackers (he likes spicy ones)

Life with a dedication to your kid's health is all consuming for each of the mommies I know. But we've got nothing on BFF. She's a fucking rock star.