I was on "The Morning Blend" on WTMJ this morning and our topic was the newest thing on MilwaukeeMoms.com -- blogs.
But in addition to moms and dads who blog, some families are getting into the act as well. On the show I mentioned a few web sites you might want to check out if you're interested in developing a family blog that helps keep everyone connected. Family blogs are great for sharing information about what you're all up to with relatives worldwide.
These are some of the easiest places to get started:
If you know of any others that your family likes, let me know and I'll be happy to share those as well.
I had to go to the bank last night after traditional banking hours, so I went to a branch office inside a grocery store in a nearby community.
While I was there, I decided to pick up a few things. I went to the self-checkout area and there was a woman standing back from all of the checkout stations, waiting for one to open up. I lined up behind her.
Here's where it got uncomfortable. A young couple with a baby in a stroller walked up next to me. When I say "young," I mean it. They looked like they were about 17 or 18 at the most.
They stood beside me for a moment, then moved directly behind one of the stations where a woman was checking out. In other words, they bypassed the line the woman in front of me had started.
The woman in front of me turned to me with a look of outrage on her face. "I'm going to say something," she said.
"Hey, we're waiting here. There's a line. Get in the line," she shouted to the young couple.
(Confession: I hate this kind of thing. I'm definitely the kind who will just let someone go in this type of situation. If they're in that much of a hurry, whatever. It won't kill me.)
The boy turned to her and said, "I see your line. This is my line. I don't have to wait in your line."
Needless to say, it degenerated pretty fast with the woman in front of me calling this kid on his rudeness, and him shouting back at her. It stopped just short of obscenities (well, he might have thrown out one at her) but it was heated.
As it all turned out, the woman in front of me and I both checked out before the pair because the station they picked had a woman there who didn't know how to operate the payment system, so it took her forever.
The whole thing was ugly, largely because of the loud yelling back and forth between the woman and the young couple, but it does raise an issue. What is the protocol for waiting for the self-checkout stations? Form one line or everyone on their own?
What do you do when you think someone is violating the unwritten etiquette? Are you one to speak up or one who would pretend she forgot something and scoot off to another part of the store? A friend of mine said that's what she would have done.
Other options?
When we moved into our house 12 years ago, about the only things growing in the backyard were a great crop of creeping Charlie and clover with a few dozen dandelions sprinkled in for good measure. There were no intentional plants -- only those that were hearty enough to survive in a mostly shaded over, postage-stamp lot with slightly prehistoric-looking, gigantic flying bugs everywhere.
It was a hostile environment to man, beast or delicate annual, and for years, I kept my distance.
My friends and I, for the most part, were all new parents and we didn't have the time or the money for silly things like landscaping.
Fast forward a few years and I had more time, a little more money, but still not much energy for gardening. I wanted a nice looking yard, but not the work that came with it. One inspired summer a few years ago I decided it was time to do something about that mess out back. Over two whirlwind weekends, we ripped up one side of the yard, planted a lilac bush and bunches of beautiful perennials and trimmed the whole thing with big rocks. A few bushels of mulch completed the picture and we had arrived in lush green Suburbia.
Done! The perfect solution -- low maintenance plants all living together in a meandering space that ran the length of the yard.
I don't know what it is about this summer, if it was the insane amount of rain in June or what, but most of my perennials seem to have disappeared (melted?) and in their place is a bumper crop of nasty brown mushrooms, weeds with an almost trunk-like stem that won't come out of the ground and some other assorted uglies with thorns, thistles and rubbery leaves. Some with all three at once. Ick.
This weekend seemed like a good time to get in there and dig out from whatever's come to pass. After clearing away buckets full of this yuck, it appears there's little left of my good intentions from a few years back. The lilac bush survived, but all else appears to be lost. I now have a nice mud bed with some mulch on it, trimmed in rock.
My day of work yielded lots of yard waste and a handful of mosquito bites, all centered around my ankles. I haven't been this swollen since week 35 of my second pregnancy, when I needed a tablespoon at my heels to help ease my feet into my shoes in the mornings.
Now the dilemma -- rebuild, or let it go back to the way it was?
I hear they're doing some mighty nice things with concrete these days.
For starters, please don't think that headline is offensive. When it comes to video games, I am a clueless parent so if you see yourself in that title, there's no judgment here -- we're on the same blank page.
Like most parents of my generation, I played a few video games back in the day. Most had indistinguishable graphics, so that Asteroids looked pretty much like Missile Command and so forth. If you played one, you played them all.
Our parents didn't have to worry about much in terms of inappropriate stuff being thrown at us from the games because a) you could hardly tell what you were looking at or doing, and b) there was no sound other than really annoying background music that played over and over. OK, our parents did have one thing to worry about: They might want to exhibit inappropriate impulse control by bashing the machine into the wall after listening to the Super Mario Brothers theme song for six hours straight.
Today's video games are, of course, "better" than those of old. "Better" means the graphics are greatly improved and the story lines are more intricate, but it also means there can be some rough stuff in terms of violence and language that you might not want your kids to be soaking up as entertainment.
And because the story lines can go on for awhile, if you want to weed out all the inappropriate stuff, you almost have to play the game from front to back to make sure there's nothing too bad in there. Let's be honest -- how many of us could even do that?
Game ratings can be of some assistance, but they're often very vague. For example, two "E" rated games, "Over the Hedge" and "Super Monkey Ball Deluxe," both list violence on their ratings. But "E" games are supposed to be for everyone, right? So what kind of violence are they talking about?
If you want help deciphering what really meets your standards, try this web site: WhatTheyPlay.com. This site gives parents more information about both video games you purchase for your system at home and those your kids might want to play online like the ever-popular Club Penguin and WebKinz.
Take the game that goes with the new movie "Kung Fu Panda." The box for the Wii version of the game would tell me that it is rated "E10+." WhatTheyPlay.com actually goes and plays the game and gives you more specifics to work with. In addition to learning that it's rated "E10+," the review says this: The ESRB rating for the game is “E10+” with content descriptors of “Fantasy Violence” and “Mild Language”. Just as it does in the movie, fighting plays a dominant role in the game. Po picks up numerous combo attacks throughout the adventure, many graphic in nature – from super-charged body slams and devastating “panda quakes” to juggling enemies before punching them out. There is no blood or gore, however, and defeated enemies disappear in a quick cloud of dust. The language concerns revolve around boasts like “freaking awesome” and silly backhanded compliments like “you did not suck.”
So, if you don't want to hear your child saying "you did not suck," this game might not be for you.
Even if your kid assures you that it's freaking awesome.
I'm a PC, but I used to be a Mac. Working in the business world forced my switch to PCs because it was just too hard to convert my work stuff to my home computer and vice versa. I realize that transforms me into the schlubby-looking guy in the suit rather than the cool guy who was dating Drew Barrymore if I identify too much with the commercial, but that's OK. (Funny "This American Life" radio interview with the actor who plays the PC here.)
Conversion to a PC came slowly at first, but now it's second nature and my mad Mac skills are left behind like yesterday's Mac Classic.
I miss the trendy design of Macs and the sort of superior feeling you get from being a Mac person. The folks at Apple are geniuses at setting their brand apart -- portraying it as just a cut above, just a bit cooler. Pathetic that it works, but it does. For a long while, it worked on me.
I've since learned to embrace life and live without the Mac, but the iPhone...oh, the iPhone.
I'm not sure how much longer I can live without an iPhone. And with the latest version hitting stores today priced at $199 rather than the $399 that they started out at, I'm thinking the iPhone might have to land itself in my purse sooner rather than later.
I'm secretly enjoying the fact that Apple is struggling to get all those newly purchased iPhones working right now, as consumer demand drives their system into a little rainbow-colored spinning wheel. But when the madness of today dies down, I just might have to take my place in line at the Apple store.
If you've never seen one of these babies in action, it might be better if you leave it that way. You'll just want one, and then you'll have to change your whole world view into one where things look cool and work right and accomplish many functions all in one sleek package. And if you're a PC like me, that might just be too much for your schlubby brain to handle.
A writer friend and I were talking about cool perks of the job the other day, and there's one in particular that we both just love. As a writer, when you're curious about something or thinking of making a change in your life, you can often find a way to work that into research for a story. A two-birds-with-one-phone kind of thing.
And while most of us don't want to talk about the school bell just yet, that's what I'm immersed in right now -- preparing our Back-to-School section on MilwaukeeMoms.com.
I'm knee-deep in what's hot in backpacks, and how to get your kids back into reading if they've slacked this summer, and how to make sure your kids are getting a great night's sleep.
Last Friday was my day to talk to local dietitians and food coaches about what families should be eating and what should go into a great bag lunch.
The perk of the business kicked in as I started to ask questions straight from my own cupboards, but I think they're pretty universal for other families as well.
The hard facts: My family doesn't eat so healthy and it is all my fault. As the primary shopper/food preparer, I've often relied on convenience over substance and wanting to minimize complaining over pushing for better nutritional value.
I buy white bread for my family because that's what I had growing up and some wheat breads are just too heavy. I buy kid-friendly cereal like Apple Cinnamon Cheerios and Peanut Butter Crunch. My kids drink juice -- some that's 100 percent juice, and some only a pitiful 10 percent. My kids eat fruit, but the vegetables are lacking -- seriously lacking.
After talking to the experts, I was a little depressed about the sad state of my cupboards and freezer. I know I need to do better, but with kids now old enough to complain -- a lot and loudly -- it's daunting to think about making so many changes.
The experts were great in suggesting how to do it in steps: Replace the Peanut Butter Crunch with Kashi Mighty Bites. Substitute a whole-wheat bread (even if it is a softer kind) for the white bread. Try one of the newer flavored waters that doesn't contain artificial sweeteners instead of the sugary fruit juices. Put out cheese and whole-grain crackers for snacks and, my weakness, look for appealing ways to get those vegetables in there -- even if it means adding a dip for the red pepper slices.
I headed out to the grocery store Saturday morning with new eyes. I bought the Kashi cereal, the whole-wheat bread and new crackers. I picked up some vegetables my kids would normally turn their noses up at with a new resolve to find ways to make them work.
I'm happy to report that even this little step into healthier eating has been well received. I found my daughter with a big bowl of Mighty Bites at breakfast Monday morning. "They're good," she said.
I presented my son with a sandwich on the whole-wheat bread on Sunday.
"That bread is brown," he said, as the nose started to turn up ever so slightly.
"Just try it," I said. "It tastes good. Trust me."
He ate the whole thing without another peep.
In the end, I was so surprised at how uneventful it was. I expected griping, balking, complaining. What I got was kids peacefully eating things that are just a touch better for them.
More changes are on the way, so I'll keep you posted. I'd also love to hear how you keep your family on the healthy track, or how you're trying to make some modifications too.
And be sure to keep an eye out for our Back-to-School section at the end of this month. We'll have many more tips and ideas to help you whip your family into shape before that dreaded bell rings again this fall.
Like many moms who work outside of the house, I'm of two minds about it.
On one hand, I like what I do and I always have. I'm one of those lucky people who figured out what she wanted to do in college and mostly stuck on that path ever since.
Then there's the other hand -- the one that longs to reach out and hold tight to my kids' hands as much and as often as possible. Working full time for so many years has meant I've had to miss out on being part of the lazy summer days that offer such great memories from my own childhood. I can still pull up the sights and smells of waking up in the cool of the morning with the branches of the big maple trees on our block that stretched across the street to meet each other creating a fully shaded spot for a day of bike riding and running through sprinklers.
I liked to sit on our screened back porch with a library book or paper and colored pencils, pretending I could draw. (I couldn't, and still can't. Oh well.)
My mom was always there, although not as a chauffeur like today's moms. We mostly got ourselves around Wauwatosa on pedal power, even if that meant a sweaty bike ride to Hart Park for tennis lessons at noon, then an even sweatier return home. The best was the sweltering bike ride to Hoyt Park pool, where we'd drop a few cents for admission and a metal basket to put our clothes and shoes in and dive in to freeze in the water.
Summer was something different when all the moms stayed home and our days were mostly our own.
Even though I'm at the office, I still want to be a great "summer mom." I can't exactly give my kids the open-ended luxury I enjoyed, but I try to work some feelings of freedom into the day.
One recent summer night, after I'd been at the office all day, I just wanted the real feel of summer -- what we wait for all year long. Instead of just doing the usual home-based night, I pulled into the driveway with a plan.
It was a Wednesday, so that means Sunset Zoofari at the Milwaukee County Zoo. I flew in the house, changed out of my work clothes, rallied the troops and had us out the door and into the summer evening in just a matter of minutes.
A spin around the zoo and a few minutes by the band later, we were all ready to move on.
On the drive home, rather than the kids suggesting a stop for frozen custard, I did.
As we piled back into the car after getting our cones, my daughter piped up from the back seat.
"Tonight is great. I just feel so spoiled," she said.
And that was it -- all it took. It hit me how little I need to do to be a good summer mom. It isn't about the big plans, the big trips.
It's like it was for me as a kid. Being a good summer mom is just about being there -- in whatever way and whenever you can.
Just thought this was interesting.
Here's the news on American Girl dolls:
Sales at American Girl, the Middleton-based division of Mattel Inc.,
rose by 10%, to $61 million, in the second quarter, the California toy
company said today. American Girl sales gains were driven by the
release of the Kit Kittredge movie and sales of related items. In
addition, the doll and book company opened two stores during the
quarter in Atlanta and Dallas.
Mattel
reported companywide sales of $1.1 billion, up 11%, for the quarter.
Net income declined to $11.8 million, or 3 cents per share, compared
with last year's second quarter net income of $22.8 million, or 6 cents
per share.
And here's the news on Bratz:
In the battle of the doll makers, the house that Barbie built won a sweeping court victory Thursday, accessories and all. A federal jury found that a Mattel Inc. designer created the lucrative Bratz doll concept while he worked at Mattel under an exclusivity contract. (Click here for the full article.)
The moral of the story: The American Girls soar, while the Bratz end up in court.
We returned from a few days in Door County this week to a rather disturbing phone call from, of all places, We Energies.
"This is Eric from We Energies, how are you today?" the voice on the line said.
"Fiiiiine," I responded, with suspicion already creeping into my voice because We Energies never calls me.
AT&T, maybe occasionally. Time Warner, once in awhile. We Energies has never called, and I was pretty sure I wasn't going to like it.
Eric then proceeded to tell me that We Energies was calling its budget customers (those of us who pay the same amount each month year-round to avoid big bills in the winter) that budget amounts would be adjusted in August, and if I had any questions after I got my new monthly amount, I could call the We Energies 800 number.
I have to admit, this sent up my radar.
"It always adjusts in August and We Energies has never called me," I said to Eric. "Is this a warning because it's going sky high?"
Eric laughed a little in a somewhat awkward way, and said that he had no specific information about my account. It could be going up, it could be going down (yeah, right).
The reason he was calling was just to make sure that we looked closely at our bill in August and didn't just automatically pay the same amount as we had been, he said. To avoid mistakes, he said. It is just something new We Energies is doing, he said, making all these calls. Ha, ha, he chuckled a bit, he's sure it will all be just fine.
Ha, ha.
Ha.
I told him I was pretty sure it wouldn't be "just fine" if We Energies was taking the time to prepare each of its customers personally with a phone call. I'm feeling confident that a personal phone call means you better be ready with a home equity line of credit to pay these new bills.
So if you are on the budget plan and don't, by chance, get one of these phone calls, consider yourself warned.
And try not to worry too much. Eric's sure it's all going to be just fine.
I've been the parent of two kids for nine years now, and there's one question people sometimes ask that I'm never quite sure how to answer. If I want to answer honestly, that is.
"Do your kids get along?"
Hmmm...let's see. I have two -- a girl and a boy, three years apart.
Do they get along? Sometimes. It depends.
It's complicated.
If I answer with a historical perspective, as in from the beginning of their time together, my answer would lean toward "no." My son came into the world in spring of 1999, screaming his guts out. He continued to scream his guts out steadily and in long, stretched out stints for about four months. After that, the shrieking lessened, but didn't really quiet down enough for anyone here to relax for about nine months.
That was my then 3-year-old daughter's introduction to having a sibling. This is the girl who would cover her ears when she heard another child crying three aisles away in the grocery store. Guess how she felt about having her own private screaming show in the house at all hours of the day and night?
Needless to say, it was a rocky start.
Once the screeching subsided, she cautiously delved into a relationship with him, but she was more concerned about preventing him from slobbering on her toys or stealing her toys than anything else.
Now they're middle-aged kids -- not babies, not yet teens -- we're reaping the benefits of being able to go all sorts of places with them. Their petty squabbles from the back seat of the car or at the restaurant table, however, often leave me as the one who wants to cover her ears.
"Stop poking me."
"Stop copying me."
"Stop breathing on me."
"Quit staring at me."
"Don't look out my window." (Yeah, that one kills me.)
We were just on a vacation in which my kids spent 24/7 with each other, and we spent 24/7 with their relationship, which is full swing in its new phase of trying to sort out how it's going to be next.
And in those days I saw a few moments, just a few glimpses observed from a distance, of two kids with their heads together, laughing. It won't be long before they realize that talking about what idiots Dad and I are (with full eye rolls, of course) can be a fun way to pass the time. Ridiculing adults in general -- what a great hobby!
A friend recently recalled bonding with her sister over some teen rage she was having at their mom. The two went into the room they shared, and my friend wrote "I wish Mom would shut up her mouth!" on a piece of paper and they laughed like witches -- and then tore up the paper before that mom saw it.
Too bad that turning us into the targets can sometimes be what it takes to get the kids together. But if it means she'll let him look out her car window and not say a word about it? Sad, but I'll take it.
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