Monthly Archives: December 2010

I like New Year’s Eve celebrations as much as anyone. Watching the ball fall in Times Square has been a part of my childhood and now my adulthood. My kids love going to “New York New Year’s Eve parties”, since we’re in Los Angeles, the parties end at 9pm (blessedly).

I’m not one for resolutions. If there’s a problem in November I’m more likely to address it at that point in time than I am to wait for an arbitrary date on the calendar. With that being said, I’ll make the same resolution this year that I’ve made for the last fifteen.

I will tell my husband and my children three times each day that I love them, and I will also demonstrate it.

I’m proud to say that I kept my resolution in 2010, and even during the very few days that I wasn’t with my children or husband they knew that I loved them in part because I found a way to make the thrice daily communication.

I made gobs of mistakes in 2010, and learned a lot from some of them. Some mistakes I will likely continue to make. I’m a learner, but sometimes I’m slow.

The only mistake I know I haven’t made, and it’s one of a very few mistakes that I know cannot be fixed, is that I haven’t neglected my family or my marriage.

In 2011 I resolve to not fuck that up.

According to the NY Daily News, Nintendo’s soon to be released 3d Gaming device comes with a warning that it could injure the eyes of children under 6.

Last night I spent about half an hour with Alexander getting a dried out contact lens out of his eye. My son is incredibly lucky that with his vision problems we live a stone’s throw from UCLA and some of the most talented physicians on the planet.

My son is nine, and he still wears a patch every day. Why? Because his eyes are not done growing, because his synapses are not fully developed. I don’t know when Alexander will stop wearing an eye patch, but I know his eye sight is changing, and this means that the same is true of the development of your child of the same age.

I cannot give you any answers, advice or knowledge for children ten and up, but I can tell you with great authority that if your child is nine or younger they still have growth as it relates to their eyes and the muscules that surround them. I can also tell you that when I patch my son’s “good eye” and he’s not wearing contacts or glasses he tenses up, and fights back tears. He cannot see. Watching my boy struggle to make out shapes is incredibly painful. I would never do anything to jeopardize his vision (or any other child’s for that matter).

If Nintendo knows that their device can cause damage for your child who is five and half years old, I have no reason to believe it won’t do damage to my son’s eyes at nine. My son has seen a pediatric opthamologist from the time he was four months old until earlier this month. I know of no great milestones that occur at age six.

Related, I got these tips to help avoid digital eye strain from VSP. It’s sort of interesting watching my family watch TV (or any screen), now I notice how much they don’t blink.

Easy Tips to Avoid Digital Device Eye Strain

• Blink Often: When looking at a computer or hand-held digital device, it’s common for you to blink two to three times less than you normally would. This can lead to “dry eye.” Blinking bathes your eyes in tears, and tears are naturally therapeutic for the eyes.

• The 20/20/20 Rule: When spending long periods in front of a digital device, every 20 minutes, spend 20 seconds looking at something 20 feet away to allow your eyes to rest.

• Ensure Proper Lighting: Poor lighting often causes eye strain. To help ease the strain on your eyes, keep bright lighting overhead to a minimum and position your desk lamp to shine on your desk, and not at you.

• Use computer vision glasses. Even if you have near perfect vision, computer vision glasses can ease eye strain from prolonged use of a digital device. [I have no clue what computer vision glasses are, I'm pretty sure they sit on the end of a string and make you look like a librarian. Not a hot librarian, the kind with blue hair and cardigans that smell like mothballs]

• Get your eyes checked An annual eye exam is a must!  Talk to your doctor about your digital usage and if you are experiencing symptoms that include headaches, backaches, dry eyes, etc.

I can hear gum snapping at a hundred yards. I don’t mind people chewing gum around me, so long as their mouths are closed, but gum snapping is like nails on a chalkboard times 100 for me. Gum snapping is the most whorish (legal) public activity possible.

This evening us Gottliebs attended Phantom of the Opera on Broadway at the Majestic Theater. It was a very good show (not great, but I’m not doing a review today), and the kids loved it.

I had a few issues with the people around us.

Behind me and to my right was a family of four that included two teenage girls. For the first 40 minutes of the show all I could hear was gum snapping. When I turned around for the third time with my finger at my lips they finally got it. Apparently this family of cud chewers is no longer able to hear each other’s mastication. Perhaps it’s so constant that it’s become white noise.

The last half hour of the first act was lovely, and mostly silent from behind me.

Then came the intermission.

Apparently America is so in love with our expanding waistlines that vendors must come to your seat baseball park style to sell you licorice, skittles, M&M’s and peanuts. We are a nation of lazy, fat gluttons who are unable to sit in a seat and passively watch other people entertain us without piling high fructose corn syrup, sugar, fat and salt into our gaping mouths.

The man behind me and to my left yelled out to his wife, “Get me some peanuts.”

I wanted to throttle him. I knew what was coming, when I saw his chins and giant thighs spilling over the seat I knew I was going to have a second act of chomping, slurping and throat clearing. Peanuts leave your throat scratchy, even if you’re a professional eater, like the man behind me appeared to be. He met my expectations and then some. The second act was music, singing, the sounds of snack bags being opened, and a dozen Americans chewing with their mouths open. Lovely.

I am curious what the theaters are thinking. I recall spending my childhood sneaking a half roll of butterscotch lifesavers into the Philharmonic. I don’t know when we decided that food has to be a part of every experience, or why it’s appropriate to sit munching in what should be a silent room. I’d pay extra for a theater that didn’t serve food in any form.

I keep hearing a bunch of nonsense about how some people are fat and healthy (simply. not. true.), and how their fat doesn’t impede on our rights.

Our culture of loving fat is spilling over into every part of our lives.

We arrived in New York just in time for Snowpocalypse 2010. Mr G and I sort of shrugged and resigned ourself to a difficult existence. I was at the Dumont Plaza for the blizzard in 1996, and every morning we’d rise early, hand the front desk clerk an envelope full of cash and beg to keep our hotel room.

This time was different. We arrrived for the beginning of the storm, so our room was safe, and since it’s a Holiday week, people seem a little less anxious to get to work and whatnot.

Alexander is only nine, and he typicallly needs some time alone each day. I was thrilled, and a little surprised to see him take this all in stride.

Jane is different, and she terrifies me. Jane has a spring in her step that I’ve never seen in Los Angeles. She moves through the crowds like a ballerina. She stands tall, and never stops smiling.

We were on the 6 train today, jammed up against strangers, clinging to bars (though it was not really necessary because there was no where you could fall to), and I asked Jane, “Do you still love New York?”

She grinned ear to ear and said, “more than ever.”

I’m going to lose her to this city. I just know it.

We’ve taken a last minute trip to New York City. We arrived here on December 25th, and the blizzard arrived on December 26th.

From a corner balcony at the Roger Smith Hotel I was able to capture the first dusting of snow. The flakes were large and puffy, much like the snowfall that lures me to ski in Colorado. It was almost romantic.

The kids were a little disappointed that we weren’t skiing this year, and they must have asked us a thousand times, “Will there be snow?” “Can we have a snowball fight?”

Mr. G and I explained to them that there might be snow, but it would be gray and dirty, it would be city snow, and it wouldn’t be much like Colorado at all.

Then we went to dinner. Alexander had a great time running up and down Third Avenue.

We had a good meal at Chin Chin (which is way fancier than the Chin Chin in Los Angeles). I did not enjoy the appetizers, we had won tons and dumplings that were heavy and doughy, but the Szechuan Chicken is the best chicken I have ever had in a Chinese restaurant. Ginger lobster was good. I’m picky about lobster because so many restaurants over cook it, but theirs was absolutely delicious with enough sauce left over to mix in with your rice. The service was flawless. I adore good service.

We made it back to the hotel and hunkered down for the night. I might have seen something that made me want to gouge my eyes out (folks please draw the blinds when you’re doing the nasty).

When I made reservations for the Roger Smith I was a little worried about Mr G. I’ve stayed here before, but I was worried that Mr G might not appreciate a boutique hotel. We have a one bedroom suite with a (tiny but important) kitchenette, and one bathroom (for four of us). I happen to love the art on the walls, and the odd reading collections in each guestrooms. The high ceilings make spending time in the room feel better.

However, boutique hotels are not for everyone. There are fifteen floors here, with just a few rooms on each floor. A smaller hotel means a smaller staff, and today there wasn’t a single maid that made it into the hotel in the blizzard.

Our bathroom towels were replaced, but we had to [gasp] make our own beds.

The good news is that unlike a mega-chain hotel, everyone who works here seems to be invested in the experience being a good one. The front desk is clearly overworked, with phones jingling, and guests clamoring for attention, but I’ve never seen them do anything but smile and say, “We’re New Yorkers, we don’t let these things slow us down.”

Yes. This is what I like.

We tromped up Fifth Avenue today and had a light lunch at the cafe in the Men’s Store at Bergdorf Goodman. The cafe is a great little spot that overlooks Central Park. Jane and I had a corn chowder that was delicious, and a burrata salad that was horrible. Mr. G enjoyed his shrimp cocktail, and Alexander loved the turkey sandwich.

Unfortunately we had a hat incident down on the floor. My friend was trying to buy a stunning trapper hat, and a salesman took it out of his hands and gave it to another patron. It was the last hat in his size. If you’re a customer at Bergdorfs do you complain to a manager, or just decide that you don’t want the hat now, that you won’t really ever enjoy it?

After Bergdorf’s Men’s Store, we made our way to The Metropolitan Mueseum of Art, where we ate again. Yes, really. If you go to the cafeteria on the lower level they have a tofu and arugula wrap that is absolutely delicious.

Much of the museum was closed, because their staff couldn’t get to work due to the blizzard. One of my great joys was walking though the photography and etching exhibits with Alexander and watching him enjoy it more than I.

We’re running a million miles an hour here, so I’ll just leave you with this snapshot of the kids on Fifth Avenue.

If you spend more than 20 minutes with me you’ll hear me say that I am the luckiest woman in the world.

I have the best job in the world. I have a life I wouldn’t have been bold enough to dream of, a marriage that delights me, and children that bring me joy in ways I’d never imagined.

I am not a genius, but I’m smart enough to look around me and know that I’ve got all I could ever ask for, and I’m going to enjoy it.

This is not a dress rehearsal. I’m not waiting until the second act to embrace all that is good.

Last night I met a lady who absolutely radiates joy and adventure. She asked me a little bit about blogging, and I told  her how lucky I am, that I have an incredible job.

“You make your luck.” She smiled and laughed a hearty laugh.

“But I’m so lucky.” And she reminded me that I made my luck.

And I realized that I really am the luckiest woman in the world. I am surrounded by talented, bright women who give more than they take. Perhaps that is part of the luck that I made.