Monthly Archives: April 2010

According to ShePosts.com, someone from the hip and trendy Paul Frank Store right here in LA posted these words on twitter.

Having your whole boob out and breastfeeding in our store #NOTOKAYATALL (since been deleted)

Such is the danger of handing your brand over to a retail sales clerk.

I’m a forty year old woman who breastfed for two years of my life, I’d also appreciate some of you putting your tits away. Yep, that’s right. I’m tired of seeing middle aged women who are angry lactivists resting their breast on the table so their three or four year old can suckle in a restaurant. Yes, I have seen that recently. I’m not disgusted by their breast, but by their behavior.

On the extreme end of things there are women nursing older children (and by older I mean kids that should be potty trained already) and they do so while glowering at anyone who has the misfortune of making eye contact.

I’m tired of that.

Now, if a baby needed to be nursed in a Paul Frank Store I’m sure it would be uncomfortable. I mean, who is the oldest person working over there on Melrose? Maybe 25?

I’m hopeful that the mom chose a discreet part of the store, sat down and fed her baby in the most comfortable way possible, that the hipsters at the store were uncomfortable because they’ve never seen it before, and that they learned a lesson at the end of the day.

There’s another something I want to throw out there. A tough lesson for us moms to learn. Not everyone likes kids. Not every store wants your baby in it. I’m telling you, the more they move, the less appropriate it can be to bring them along. The reality is that there are shops (and their patrons) who are totally not into babies. Right or wrong, that’s just life.

As for this family? Jane has a really terrific Paul Frank Bicycle and she can’t get enough of their little monkey designs. This is just an event, a tiny event and an opportunity for both extremes to get a glimpse of how the world sees them.

Since the kids are still on Spring Break I’m doing the unthinkable. I’m taking my children with me to the grocery store. It’s not unthinkable because they are ill mannered, it’s unthinkable because they are my children, with my tastes.

I have a daughter who will stand next to me in her nightgown dipping a spoon into a small jar of golden caviar, her eyes light up as they pop in her mouth. I have a son who knows that grass fed organic beef is the only sort worth eating, and that buffalo hot dogs have a flavor that cannot be rivaled by the packaged goo in the refrigerated section. Both of my kids like apples, both of my children love mangoes.

Taking my children to the grocery store is, quite simply, unaffordable.

In between guitar and drum lessons we have an hour. During the school year, we three would have quiet time and the kids would be working on homework, but with this being spring break I took them to Gelsons.

As is my habit, we went first to the meat and fish department to see what was fresh. Both kids wanted seafood, but Alexander really wanted mussels. I know that my husband won’t be eating mussels any time soon, so when Jane asked if I could make her salmon I said okay. Most days I make one dinner, there is always a protein, two vegetables and a starch. My thoughts are that if they don’t like one of the four things on the plate, no one will starve.

Thank goodness today was different.

I brought the groceries home and immediately soaked the mussels in icy water so that I could scrub and prepare them for supper.  Alexander was standing next to me as I showed him each shell and pointed out the beard. As each shell opened up he would say to me, “that’s okay Mom there are more.” He was so excited to get mussels for supper. Out of two pounds of mussels only five stayed shut. I had approximately two and three quarters of a pound of rotten shellfish, and just 35 minutes to break the news to my son and prepare dinner.

Trying to explain to an eight year old boy that I didn’t want to mince garlic, dice an onion and reduce white wine in order to prepare five mussels was a bit rough. Peanut M&Ms helped keep it in perspective.

Luckily I’d bought salmon for Jane and Mr. G. Alexander and I had a great dinner of reheated chicken.

At nine o’clock I realized we had a problem. Today was an 85 degree day and I had two pounds of rancid seafood. It was also trash day. That means that the mussels would have to sit in the bin for six days in the heat. Ever since an unfortunate lobster incident, I only cook shellfish the day before trash day.

At 9:30 PM I surpassed my mother, and became my grandmother. I collected the mussels, the beards and the babies stuck to them. I put it all in a plastic bag, and then put the plastic bag into a bowl. I got in my car and returned the whole mess to Gelsons.

Yes, I realize that only old ladies return food to the market. It wasn’t about the money. Mussels are about $4 a pound, so it was a $7 investment. It was about the maggots. The maggots that I was unwilling to live with, the cleaning I didn’t want to do. I took my daughter with me to the grocery store, just before it closed, and handed a bag of rancid meat to the store manger.

I’m not sure what my daughter’s takeaway will be. Hopefully she’ll know that Mommy enjoys a clean house so much that she’s unwilling to have a manky trash bin.

I have an old Gucci wallet. I’d say it’s about eight or ten years old, and it looks like it’s brand new. It looks new because the quality of craftsmanship is superior, and it looks new because I use it infrequently. I don’t enjoy the wallet, it’s too small. I felt terrible about not enjoying the wallet, as it was not inexpensive.

Yesterday I was at Target with the kids and I saw a wallet that I loved. It was $15, and I wanted to own it, but I felt bad about buying it for myself because I have a perfectly good wallet. This wallet, this fifteen dollar Liberty wallet is covered in flowers. I want flowers on my wallet. I want plasticy coverings too. I want space. I wanted this wallet that I didn’t need, and that didn’t have the value of my Gucci wallet.

Jane perked right up and said, “Mom I love the green wallet.”

So now this belongs to Jane.

And this belongs to me.

Though my eleven year old daughter doesn’t understand or appreciate a Gucci wallet, either do I.

I have a few wonderful events coming up, and I want to see all of you. Both of you… whatever.

First off is the 140 Conference. April 20th will be my third 140 Conference, and I don’t even know that I can describe to you what I take away from it. Jeff Pulver has the unique ability to get the brightest and most progressive folks from the web and beyond into one room for an exchange of ideas. I’m off to New York for it, and I hope you’ll meet me there, because it’s going to be fabulous. I’ll be speaking on the afternoon of the 20th. I’ve promised myself that this time I won’t say fuck.

For all my Los Angeles friends, there’s a Wii tennis tournament in Redondo Beach on May 8th that I’d like to see you at. Once again it’s a fundraiser for the UN Refugee program. I’ve talked about it before, but with the crisis in Somalia there is no shelter for folks in adjoining countries. For just a $10 donation, we’d like you to join us. Clare has put together a terrific website where you can register for the event. As always, you can donate here. If you would like to sponsor the event with products for raffles or silent auction please email me, we’d be happy to have your support.

If I can’t see you in New York or Los Angeles, then we’ll all have to settle for next best. Thursday night I’ll be a guest at Beer Diplomacy, only I’ll be drinking wine… because, ya know, I’m difficult that way. All you have to do is go to Beer Diplomacy at 9PM Eastern Time this Thursday. Stuart Tracte, CC Chapman and I will discuss the issues of the day. I will attempt to not say fuck here too, but quite often I fail.

If that’s not enough for you, then I guess you’ll have to watch me at Mingle Media TV. Yep, every Wednesday morning at 10am Pacific (that’s 1pm Eastern), I’ll be discussing some of the marketing campaigns that catch my eye. There’s some really great stuff happening out there, and much of it is overshadowed by the boneheaded moves that are all too easy to spot. Are You Marketing To Me should be an awful lot of fun, and I’m grateful to Mingle Media TV for giving me a chance to try something new. For the full press release click here.

We have a boy and girl. One of each.

My daughter looks like a Gottlieb. My son, if you can find a way to look past the shock of red hair, looks like me. One of each.

I can predict Jane’s actions. She is eleven, and I remember eleven well. She wants to be bad, she sticks her hand on her hip, rolls her eyes and tries with all her might to glare at us, but typically crumples into a pile of giggles. Jane wants to rebel, but she’s too busy being happy and skipping through the house, and through the world. Because I understand her so, I love her just a little more.

Alexander is a mystery to me. I don’t understand his need to stomp through every puddle. I can’t comprehend how it is fun to play catch for three hours in the same spot, with the same boys. Every Day. Just watching him search things out in his bedroom has me scratching my head. Because he surprises me so much, I love him just a little more.

When it’s time to tuck them in at night, Alexander isn’t wearing his glasses, and I look into brown eyes. Just like mine. He lays on his left side, grabs me around the neck with his right arm every night and smiles at me with his eyes. I know his mouth is smiling too, but we are nose to nose and I can’t possibly see it.

The nighttime smile with his eyes carries me through the day. Every day.

If you follow me on twitter you know that I’ve been car shopping. It feels like it’s been going on forever, and to some degree it has.

My husband and I both needed new cars. I wanted something safe, Jane wanted a hybrid, my husband wants something fast and no one wants to pay too much.

Lexus has an amazing program for the HS250H that ends tomorrow. If you’re near Van Nuys, CA I went to Sam Santoso at Keyes. It was the easiest transaction I’ve ever had, and it was not particularly expensive.

In the interest of sharing what I think is a very good deal (even though this feels hideously tacky), I’ll give you the details of my lease. It’s $1,200 cash and $450 a month, 36 months and 12,000 miles are included as well as the technology package (duh- I’m still me), upgraded chrome wheels, and two years of service.

How do I know this is a good lease program? Well, when I was at the dealership yesterday driving the car and Sam was very apologetic when his cell phone rang. “I’m really sorry, I need to take this call.” I wandered a few moments, and after Sam finished the call he said, “This guy wants exactly the same car as you, except in black on black and he’s giving me the grind.” I smiled at him and said, “well, just structure my deal like his and I won’t have to give you the grind.”

The guy on the phone? It’s my husband’s best friend. I saw his deal, he saw mine, it’s all good.
Now we just need one more car. I’m pretty sure I know what Mr. G wants, we just have to find it.