Sisters…Well, Close Enough

July 21st, 2010

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My daughter Olivia spent the weekend with my sister and her family. She wants to be a big sister (a desire that I assure will remain unfulfilled!) SO badly that she insisted on dressing like her cousin Samantha Jo, including squeezing into this Size 3 swimsuit.

Ever find yourself at a Hole in the Wall?

July 20th, 2010

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When traveling – especially while traveling internationally – I always try to stay away from the trendy restaurants…with the exception of McDonald’s and Starbucks, which are always good for a clean and free bathroom. I spent this past weekend in Las Vegas, and, though I say this everytime,  next time I really am flying. We were stuck in 2.5 hours of traffic in Ontario on our way to Vegas because of an accident!

On our first night there, we decided to stay away from the high end restaurants and go for something the “locals” would eat. We ate at a restuarant just off the strip called Battista’s Hole in the Wall. Out in front is a huge gaudy neon sign letting us know it serves Italian Food. The restaurant was large, but broken up into small rooms with half walls. We were seated within five minutes, which is great for a Vegas restaurant on a Friday night with no reservations. We all laughed once we saw the menu. All meals come with the following: salad (garden salad with italian dressing) or soup (minestoni only), bread sticks, side pasta, cappuccino, and all you can drink wine! We read it a couple of times to be sure. The waiter arrived and put down a carafe of white and a carafe of red wine on the table. The white was a chablis and the red was a cabernet. If I weren’t pregnant, I really would have enjoyed the wine! Both tasted great for a FREE table wine. The cappuccino was a complete surprise. I was told it tasted like sweet hot chocolate, but there wasn’t a single hint of espresso. On our way out we picked up a card with the ingrediets to their famous espresso. What’s in it? Mostly, coffee, chocolate, cream and…a shot of brandy. The waiter never even mentioned it was alcoholic. Good thing I opted out because I didn’t want the espresso.

If you ever find yourself at the Hole in the Wall located just behind the Flamingo, I recommend the chicken rio.

Is it true that college students can’t write?

July 19th, 2010

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All I said was that one perk of living in Riverside is that there’s really no pressure to buy your kid a car…And she started justifying herself. Her daughter’s a good student; her daughter works and she thinks that’s great; she just doesn’t feel that there’s anything wrong with buying her daughter a car. She rolled her eyes, put her hand on her hip, turned and walked back to her seat.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

I was grading papers on my flight home last night from Hartford, CT, chatting with my “neighbor,” who was on her way back to LA after visiting the University of Massachusetts Amherst (UMASS) with her daughter and grand daughter, the latter of whom will be a freshman there in the fall. The woman’s daughter had stopped to visit with her mom, who explained that I am a professor and had been grading papers since take-off. She asked if it’s true college kids can’t write. Following my somewhat flippant response of “Not this one,” we chatted about our children and the challenges of 21st century parenting. I probably should have stuck with commiserating, but I didn’t.

My fellow mom and Delta passenger, a self-confessed "helicopter parent," admitted to hiring a coach to help her daughter complete her college applications because the process is so confusing now. I disagreed, and explained that while there might be more competition at some schools and it’s certainly more expensive to apply, the application and financial air processes are actually easier and more efficient. The vast majority of my students successfully (obviously) filled out their own applications.

She said she was worried that even though her daughter had graduated from Westlake High School – a predominantly white, highly rated public school in the Los Angeles area – and been admitted to UMASS, she wouldn’t be able to write. I told her not to worry. I’m sure her daughter’s quality high school program had prepared her well for college. Anyway, in my experience, poor writers suffer more from some combination of laziness and hasty, last-minute efforts than lack of ability. I used my son, Quentin, as an example; he rushes every writing assignment, and has to edit, revise, and rewrite repeatedly.

She explained that she’s a single mom and had sacrificed to ensure her daughter had access to a quality high school program and ensure she got to go to college on the East coast. That’s when she mentioned the car. I told her that was too bad she felt that she had to purchase and maintain a car for her daughter that was worthy of Westlake’s student parking lot. I don’t feel at all pressured to buy my son a car. To be honest, I don’t think every driving-age child needs a car, and believe that those who do should contribute to the costs of car ownership and driving. I told her that my loving spouse and I don’t intend to get our son a car until: a) he genuinely needs to drive, and b) he can pay a significant share of the costs associated with doing so. That’s when she turned on me.

I really didn’t mean to offend, but rather to re-assure, which is odd. After all, I’m the one who deserves consolation. My purportedly under-socialized children are home-schooled. In Riverside. Yikes! The poor things can’t expect to “ride for free,” and will be responsible for their own college applications.

Perhaps aware again of the red ink on the papers I was grading, she suggested I “write something nice” on my students’ papers. “Always,” I said. For all the poor grammar and style errors I have to wade through, most of the students manage to provide plausible arguments; some even blow me away with their insights.

A glimpse into my life :)

July 8th, 2010

This past weekend was exhausting. I worked the whole holiday weekend – including two 12-hour days! My patience has been low, along with my energy. It has taken everything out of me to get in my runs with Sammy and a little bike riding (long work days aren’t going to deter me from my cross training).

Maz, on the other hand, had a three day weekend AND he gets home at 2:30 everyday! Then why am I doing everything? I just don’t know.

Conversation One:

Me: Can you go to Costco?

Maz: What do you need?

Me: Well, coffee for starters.

Maz: I think you can go a day without coffee.

Me: Yes, I can but I need you to actually run an errand – point blank. Just because I don’t have time to go to Costco today doesn’t mean I will have time tomorrow. Have some freaking confidence; I think you can do a Costco trip on your own.

Later in the day…Maz was showing off his confidence by giving me the details of his shopping trip. The last thing on my mind was how he couldn’t find the mushrooms, so he decided not to get them.

Conversation Two…following another long day for me, while Maz got home at 2:30:

Me: Maz,  when you get home early everyday, I really need you to clean up the kitchen and empty your lunch box. I don’t want to see a full lunchbox on that table again (for those of you who don’t already know, Maz takes a lunchbox the size of a carry-on suitcase with him to work everyday).

Maz: Okay, but today I fell asleep.

Me: It’s called a NAP, and I am glad one of us has time for it.

Me (while doing the dishes): Can you take the bathroom trash out & put it in the kitchen trash, then take the kitchen trash out because tomorrow is trash day?

Maz: No response.

Then I start to see movement…Bathroom trash is gone, kitchen trash is gone, BUT there’s no new bag in the kitchen trash can.

Conversation Three…about ONE hour later:

Maz: You know, I took the trash can to the curb; I didn’t just put the house trash in the can.

Me: What, do you want a gold star?

Bear on the Loose

July 7th, 2010

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On Sunday, the Fourth of July, my mom called crying because someone had taken her dog, Bear. Not likely; he probably ran scared from the fireworks! Nearly an hour of looking later – a group endeavor that included seven family members, four police officers responding to calls about a loose dog, and the woman who found him at a nearby park – Bear was home. My mom took Bear to the vet on Monday because he was limping. Apparently, he wore the pads off of his front paws running on hot pavement. I’m happy to report that Bear is on twice-a-day antibiotic regimen, but should recover fully. Until he does, he’ll b sporting these sassy Hanes crew socks.

Maternal Costs…and Benefits

July 6th, 2010

He finally got it!!

It’s only taken five and a half months but he did it. Peter finally claims to understand how much an expectant mother sacrifices during pregnancy, the toll it takes on her body, as well as the miracle of carrying a living being in her womb.  This past weekend, we were sitting there and he rubs my belly – note that this was the first time since I became pregnant. He looks at me, shakes his head, and tells me he can’t believe I’m carrying around another human being. He said I deserved a present! He suggested a painting by Vladamir Kush. I like his “Red Purse.”

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Critics suggest that Kush “infuses into his image a certain irony: greed and excessive accumulation of wealth could lead to the separation of lovers”:

[The] purse is a symbol of wealth and accumulation. But only love is the master key … This symbolism corresponds to the color of the purse. Red means love and passion in the first place, although purses are used to have the colors of earth or gold. But we employ red also in cases when we want to emphasize the symbolism of luxury and wealth. In China, red is considered to be the color of happiness and good luck. It is the color of the wedding attire too.

I’m so excited! “Red Purse” would be our second Vladamir Kush. We recently purchased the artist’s “Fauna in La Mancha” which positions giant butterflies atop windmill platforms in a “mad” play on Cervantes’ Don Quixote. I can’t wait for it to arrive.

Cross Training Part II

July 2nd, 2010

I’m with Terri. Hiring a running coach aside, there’s likely no way to increase our chances of qualifying for the Boston Marathon other than cross-training. Not only were we just plain burned out by “just” running during our training for the 2010 San Diego Rock ‘n’ Roll marathon, but I also suffered the onset of iliotibial (IT) band pain. Certainly, cross-training will help to develop muscles oft-neglected by running exclusively, and – hopefully – prevent (additional) injury. It will also combat boredom in what promises to be yet another long, hot summer.

Terri has taken up mountain biking and bike commuting. Although my current “recovery and training” plan include biking, my tack is a little different. I’m just going “back” to how I trained for my previous marathons: biking to work as often as possible, walking nearly as many miles as I run, practicing yoga daily, rock-climbing, and getting in the pool on most of the truly hot afternoons.

Bicycle commuting: In addition to reducing the stress on my joints, generally, riding to campus and back will require me to use overlapping sets of muscles in distinct ways to help limit my chances of injury.

Balancing walking and running: Amounts to “time on my feet.” I’d just tried doubling my workouts a couple of times before my IT band started hurting, but I like the idea of increasing my cardiovascular conditioning and running economy by getting more workout in each week than there are days. For now, one of my “runs” is a fast-paced walk.

Yoga: Without it, I’d be even less balanced. In addition to increasing the frequency and duration of my practice, I’ve incorporated asanas that stretch the IT band – Pigeon, Reclining Hand Foot Pose, Square Pose – and strengthen the core.

Rock Climbing: While climbing doesn’t have a direct impact on running, it’s a great way to improve the mental fitnessmental fitness long-distance running requires.

Swimming: Another low-impact route to cardiovascular fitness and alternative way to build upper body strength. I haven’t been able to find an adult class that suits both my budget and my schedule, so I’ve been swimming pretty sad looking laps at the community pool while  kids SPLASH and play nearby.

Two weeks into it, I’m on a roll.

3Sisters3Margaritas

June 30th, 2010

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At the end of our tour of the Hacienda Doña Engracia Distillery a couple of years ago, Jeanna, Terri, and I bought “Mexican” margaritas, each consisting of a generous shot of tequila poured straight from the bottle over ice, then filled to the brim with Sprite. So you can imagine my surprise when Stephanie Elizondo Griest describes "Russian" margaritas in her memoir of a year abroad in Moscow: "Sprite on ice with a few shots of tequila." Small world!

My Middle Name is “Adaptable”

June 29th, 2010

Peter and I decided to go wine tasting in Paso Robles for our five year anniversary. I’d wanted to go for years but thought we needed a good reason. A “major” anniversary was a perfect reason. Hearst Castle topped my list of sites to see while away, so we decided to stay in nearby Morro Bay, a place where my dad use to camp and go fishing with his brothers annually. Always one to jam pack my vacations, leaving little time for leisure, we’d pre-paid for our hotel and massages and purchased Hearst Castle tickets early. Once we found out we were expecting a baby, the wine tasting trip turned into a Morro Bay/Hearst Castle tourist vacation, minus the wine. I guess we’ll have to save the wine tasting trip for another time. Small price to pay for a baby.

The trip turned out to be fantastic.

IMG_0986Morro Bay was a cute little town full of the elderly. I swear we were the youngest people in the city! We rented bikes and road down to Morro Rock, and ate seaside every evening. I was surprised that the temperature there remains about 65 degrees almost year round. At that temperature, I was surprised to see people in the water kayaking and swimming – it was way too cold for me. We stayed at the Inn at Morro Bay directly adjacent to the Heron Rookery. If you are not a fan of birds, I wouldn’t recommend this Inn. The birds made so much noise and the amount of bird feces on the property was amazing. At check-in, they even warn you that your car will be dirtied and they give you the location of the closest car wash.

IMG_1015I LOVED Hearst Castle. We went on two tours, I wanted to go on more, but Peter didn’t think it was necessary.  I purchased a biography on William Randolph Hearst and I cannot put it down. I want to join “Friends of Hearst Castle” – an organization that raises money to assist with the renovations. The Castle brings in more than $12 Million in a year, all of which is given to the state. The state then re-distributes the money to all state parks leaving only $100 Thousand for the Castle. According to the docents, this isn’t nearly enough money to maintain the billions of dollars worth of artifacts stored within the Castle. There is so much money in art located within those walls, its a shame the state would allow it all to deteriorate.

On the way home, I stayed awake and noticed that we passed several California Missions! Had I known, I would have tried to add them to our vacation. Next time there will be wine tasting; I’ll finish up my tours at Hearst Castle, and visit the Missions.

Well she was an American girl…

June 28th, 2010

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Raised on promises…begins Tom Petty’s track about an American girl searching for more. In sum, Mattel’s popular and exceedingly attractive American Girl dolls and abundant accessories offers something, well, less.

Last week, I took my daughters to the American Girl Placein Los Angeles. Like its counterparts in other parts of the country, the Los Angeles store is a showplace and sales center for American Girls dolls and accessories. It also features a doll hair salon, doll hospital, restaurant and photo studio. Since its opening in 2006, the Los Angeles store has become a site for themed birthday parties and a popular tourist attraction.

The American Girl business was founded as Pleasant Company in 1986 by Pleasant T. Rowland. Rowland, an educator, writer, and entrepreneur, realized that while the doll market included baby dolls to facilitate mothering and care-giving play, and “Barbie” dolls tailored to the experiences of teenagers and young adults, there were virtually no dolls that realistically represented girls in the eight-to-twelve age range. This realization, in combination with a trip to Colonial Williamsburg, inspired her to create a line of books, 18-inch historical character dolls, and accessories. The line now also includes a series of arts and craft, inspirational, and low-key self-help books, American Girl Magazine, “Just Like Me” 18-inch dolls, and baby dolls. Like the original American Girl dolls, these products are designed to “celebrate girls and all that they can be, [and to] help girls grow up in a wholesome way, while encouraging them to enjoy girlhood through fun and enchanting play.” Mattel, Inc. acquired American Girl in 1998.

To date, 16 million American Girl dolls and 127 million “American Girl” books have been sold. This is astonishing. 16 million is simply a lot of dolls designed for pre-teen girls in an era when even 5-year-olds are abandoning dolls. My older daughter, Reiley, played with baby dolls until she was about 6 years old; perhaps because she once dreamed of being a fashion designer, she enjoyed dressing Barbie and Polly Pocket dolls for a few years longer. Reiley’s thirteen now and, although the trip to American Girl Place was her idea – we went to the store in New York City when she was a little girl and I’d long promised a trip to the LA store – wasn’t interested in the dolls. She was looking for athletic wear for her doll – a garage sale find that’s currently gone missing. (She didn’t say, but I think the plan is to dress and display her doll much as I do a small collection of soft-bodied dolls on the top shelf in my home office.)

Her five-year-old little sister, Olivia, was much more interested. She picked out a Just Like Me doll, clothes and accessories, and a matching dress for herself. At a total cost of $202 plus tax, it’s clear that buying into the American Girl dream easily exceeds what the average U.S. family of four spends on groceries each week. That said, I have to admit, the shopping experience at American Girl Place was a lot of fun. My selections easily more than doubled the total for Olivia’s: Just Like Me doll set ($110), “Julie’s” floral jumpsuit that reminds me of a pair of pants I had when I was a little girl ($24), yoga outfit and accessories, including a mat ($30), bicycle with sissy bar ($85 – keeping in mind that dependable bikes for flesh-and-bone 9-year-olds don’t cost much more), and “Lanie’s” camper with accessories ($295, though it’s currently sold out) for a pre-tax total of $544!

Of course, I had no intention of opening my wallet anywhere near that wide to get a doll, no matter how cool – come on, a doll that looks like me, wears some combination of yoga clothes and hippie chic, and lives in the best-equipped particle board camper in town – who woudn’t want that? Yet my enthusiasm easily supports marketing professors John F. Sherry Jr., Raymond W. and Kenneth G. Herrick’s argument that American Girl shoppers tend to attach a set of meanings to the product and the retail experience, even creating memories, family stories and values around them. Ah, ha! Admittedly, it is eerie seeing so many relatively big girls and their dolls dressed alike, but both the “window” shopping and reminiscing is fun.

It’s also disturbingly exclusionary. Bracketing the question of representativeness – is the inclusion of Mexican-American Josephina (circa 1824) and homeless Gwen (friend to 2009 doll of the year, Chrissa) sufficiently “American”? – many pretty typical, actual American girls are routinely left out of the American Girl experience. Most notable among them is Etta from Brooklyn, who’s American Girl look-a-like doll, Gracie ($29.99 at Target), was refused service at the American Girl doll salon in New York because she isn’t “a real [American Girl] doll.” I recently learned that because Etta was a guest at a friend’s American Girl birthday party, she could have avoided the ridicule associated with bringing Gracie along by borrowing a genuine American Girl doll on-site.

So how can an everyday American girl make her way into the American Girl club despite her parents’ income and/or ethics? A quick online search buttressed by a week of casual conversations with middle-income Southern California moms suggests that despite Gracie’s arguably substandard craftsmanship, look-alikes top the list of ways to “do American Girl” on the cheap. Another tack is to suck up the cost of an authentic American Girl doll – especially if the doll is earned for, say, reading the books – and purchase knock off togs and accessories, including those available to make or buy for Gracie and similarly sized dolls. This approach is favored by those willing to search Craigslist, Amazon, and eBay for a “real” American Doll at much less than its $95 minimum retail price.