Birthdays, Loss, and Memories

I’m about to celebrate my second birthday as an orphan; a forty-something one, but an orphan nevertheless. I don’t feel quite old enough to be parent-less, so birthdays now tend to be a little bittersweet. My parents were pretty damn special. Not only did I love them, I actually really liked them. They were smart, funny, great company, and stylish, to boot. They brought a lot to the party.


I was just 21 when my mom passed away and the pain of it was truly surreal. She was a beautiful force of nature and we were very, very close--quite honestly, I don’t think it’s something you ever really recover from. To this day, I will see a mother and daughter who look as happy and close as my mom and I were, and my heart aches . The loss is enormous. Clearly the universe decided that our time together was more about quality than quantity. I take great solace in the strong relationship we had, but it makes the missing part that much harder. We never had our “grown up lady time,” and I so regret that now that I’m a woman with womanish questions.

Two years ago, I was in the room when my champ of a father died. He suffered a long, drawn out battle with Parkinson’s and now it was over.  I was glad to have been with him until the end, as I hadn’t been there with my mom. I remember walking out of that hospital room and feeling stunned and completely untethered.  The chord had been cut. The people who brought me into this world were now both officially gone and I felt cosmically f****d. Dad was my anchor, my connection to everything and the answerer of questions about my childhood, Duke Ellington songs, boxing rules, Harlem back-in-the-day stories, and life in general.

As an only child, I have no siblings to rehash tales of mom and dad. The adventures are stored like treasures in my memory bank, and I take them out quite often to share with my kids.  I am glad that they have each other so that they can reflect together on their life with me, the good and the bad. I hope that my husband and I will be remembered as fondly. I am also grateful that my daughter and son and I have a strong bond, full of love and silliness. I know my parents are smiling on us, especially in our goofiest moments.

I’m a lucky girl. I thank my parents for filling my life with so much love that I can still feel it, almost touch it. That’s a pretty great birthday present.

Good Enough Housekeeping

It’s when I’m cleaning the toilet that I most get Downton Abbey-envy. As I gaze at my reflection in the bowl, I wonder…why wasn’t I born a Crawley heiress with a live-in staff to scrub every bit of funk from my abode? I love a clean home, but I don’t love to clean my home.

Since a staff of English house maids isn't in the budget at the moment, we are on our own: The husband with the 9 to 5 and after 5; the busy college kid who also juggles a part-time job; the 7th grader with a ton of homework; and yours truly, who has been writing from home for the past few years. Somehow with that “working from home” bit, I find that I’m allowing too much of the cleaning duties to fall on my shoulders, and (surprise!) this fact does nothing to improve my mood.

Sure, everyone helps and participates when prompted, but the dirt only really seems to speak to me. My family doesn’t hear the laundry crying out to be washed, the siren song of the dirty kitchen, or the rustling of tumbleweed-sized dust balls lurking in the corners.

As women, we still  feel as though we have to do it all, and do it well, and often we are foolishly loathe to delegate. We know that we can generally do it faster and better, but what we don’t always realize is that sometimes a good enough cleaning job is good enough. Maybe your partner or kids don’t tidy up as well as you do, so what? Getting help means that you spend less time cleaning, which makes it pretty damn good deal! Perfection is overrated. Instead, we need time to kick back and read the Sunday Times, get out for some fresh air, contemplate a novel, or simply contemplate our navels. Whatever. Cleaning all day, or griping about it, doesn’t leave enough room for fun.

Establish a standard for household cleanliness that suits your family, cleaning style, and commitment. Maintaining a really clean home can require more time, energy, and patience than many of us have. Periodically, everyone has to buckle down for a deep cleaning, but in the meantime, here are some tricks that you can do, with or without the family, that work quite nicely. Add some music to soften the blow:

Beat the clock:  Set an alarm and clean for a number of minutes that won’t make you weep. Some days that might just be five minutes, other days you might be able to stand two hours. The trick is, you have to drop your mop when that buzzer goes off. You would be surprised at the focus.

Quick and dirty: 10 minutes per room, tops. Whatever gets done, gets done. Move on to the next room.


Choose your battles:  An unmade bed drives me crazy, but I can live with a coffee mug in the sink; I cannot stand clutter, but I don’t feel the need to have floors so clean that I can eat off of. What can you live with? What’s a deal breaker? What’s worth losing hours of your time, and what can you let slide? Choose wisely.

Ignore it: Do something fun instead. The funk will wait.

The Case for Not Looking Like Hell

Last week I broke my rule.  I had just come from the gym and had to dash to the Upper West Side and take care of some business. Instead of stopping home for a quick shower, change of clothing, and a touch of mascara and lip gloss, I decided to go as is.  As soon as I got off the train, I saw a TV producer I had been hoping to re-connect with and pitch some ideas.  In my big wool hat (hiding my crazy gym-hair), sloppy sweats, sneakers, let’s just say I was not ready for prime time. I looked like hell. I slipped past him.

I am a firm believer in leaving the house looking pretty good, I won’t lie. For me that doesn’t mean a fully tarted up face and heels, but I always want to look decent; because it’s true, as I was just reminded the hard way, you never know who you might meet. I grew up with a Georgia Peach of a mom who didn’t leave the house without lipstick and perfume, and a dashing dad who favored Italian tailors. What can I say? My bar is pretty high.

Now, how we each define looking pulled together is relative and open to interpretation. Maybe you would have felt great in your sweats and sneakers. Good for you! Maybe you need a sexy dress and killer pumps, or suit. That’s okay too. It’s all about taking the right measures to feel self-assured.

Just as I feel better when I am prepared for a meeting or interview with the right information and the right questions, I also feel stronger and more confident when I look pulled together. It’s as though I’m wearing a special anti-frump coat of armor.  That “armor” doesn’t have to be expensive, but it has to fit well, and I have to feel comfortable in it. I find that I lean toward certain uniforms, such as a perfect black or dark wash jean, a good sweater, and great pair of boots for the winter. For summer it might be an easy dress and sandals, or ballet flats. Invest in things you love; a well-made coat and a trench, a good bag, and a few decent accessories. When you have these pieces in your arsenal it makes looking crappy more of a longshot. Plus, once you have good basics, you don’t spend precious time searching for the right things. Who has time?

I also find that a little make up goes a long way. I think at a certain point in a woman’s life, ahem, a truly fresh face isn’t necessarily so… fresh. But neither is kabuki-mode—it’s aging. A little dab will do you.  My easy day face takes me about two minutes: a touch of concealer under the eyes, mascara, a little blush and some tinted lip gloss or a stain. I'm entirely recognizable, but I look a little less tired than I feel. That's worth two minutes of my time. And needless to say, chipped nail polish is a no-no, unless you are Courtney Love circa 1989.

Balzac said “carelessness in dressing is moral suicide.” That’s a bit of an exaggeration, yes, but after my little carpe diem moment with the producer turned into an epic fail (thanks to my wardrobe malfunction), I’m sticking to my rule.

Big Mother is Watching…But Not That Closely

When my book club had finished discussing Esmeralda Santiago’s  Conquistadora  (general consensus: we expected more), the conversation turned to our children and our control over their Internet habits. In this circle of women, I discovered that I was the odd mother out.

I found out that most of my friends have their children’s computers locked down and tricked out with every kind of safety bell and whistle possible. In addition, many of them make sure that the computer is in a common room of the house, so that they can further control the activity. I have heard this advice before and can certainly understand the concern we have for the safety of our children. There are some freaks out there and we want to put up as much of a protective barrier as possible. Was I not creating enough of a roadblock? Was I the “horrible” mother? The one who forgets to sign the class trip slips, forgets snacks on snack day… the one who doesn’t protect her kids from crazed Internet predators? For a moment, I wondered, but then I remembered that everyone has a different parenting style.

When our children, now 18 and 12, first started emailing, we did have their incoming communications forwarded to our email addresses, but eventually we stopped, and beyond that, they have a very minimum of policing.  Did my son, at the age of 11 or so, Google “Boobs” and come up with more than he bargained for? Yes, but he survived, unscathed.

My husband and I spend a lot of time with our children, we talk, we listen, and we talk. Since they were little we have had the conversations: “You know never to give your address or personal information to anyone online, right?” ” You know never to meet anyone who pretends to be your friend on Facebook, right?” To which they respond, “Duh, Mom!!”

They are not perfect, they certainly do some stupid stuff, but they have some sense.  I was an only child, the focus of my parents’ lives. They knew my friends, they knew where I was, and they learned how to trust me to make the right decisions. And you know what? Most of the time I did. Yes, those were different Internet-free times, but much of this is about trust and letting go. You try to set the ground rules for life and they pray that they learn how to implement them. They need to see things and learn what to filter out on their own, it’s a survival skill.  I understand protection, I’m a parent, after all, but I trust my children on this. Call me crazy, but, knock on wood, so far it’s working.

Every parent needs to follow his or her gut when it comes to these things. If 24/7 surveillance is what you’re feeling, you’ve got to go for that. It just doesn’t feel like the right thing for my family. However, were I too see any particularly odd behavioral patterns or weirdness in my kids, and suspected that it had anything to do with their online activities; I would be the first to go into Special Ops mode. May that time never come.

Damn You, Sanjay Gupta!

It’s nothing personal and I’m sure if we were ever to meet, we would get along like a house on fire, it’s just that your CNN special, “The Last Heart Attack” with Dr. Caldwell Esselstyn Jr., and your interview with the now heart-healthy and skinny vegan, former president, Bill Clinton, inspired my husband to make some changes. For those of you who missed it, Dr. Esselstyn promotes the “heart attack free diet,” which in his interpretation consists of no meat, no eggs, and no dairy.

“I think I’ll do that, too.” said the husband.
“…What… become a vegan?” I cringed, thinking of what an act of culinary acrobatics dinner time would become, feeding a vegan and two occasionally picky not-so-small children. Was I going to feel like a short order cook at mealtime? No cod fish for the girl, no cauliflower for the boy, no lovely spaghetti Bolognese for the man, and no fun for me.
“No, just a pescatarian.” he assured me. Ok, I thought, fish,  I can deal with this. Yet for some reason, this change of routine, as healthy and honorable as its intentions were, irked me a little. On top of that, I was ashamed that I was irked!

I have to confess. Unless health, ethics, or religion requires it, I am not a fan of extreme diets. I am all about balance. Variety is the spice of life! Eating is such a joy. I don’t see evil lurking in sane quantities of carbs and sugar and I believe moderate amounts of animal protein can be alright.

Eating less meat is not exactly a total tragedy in my house. Our diet is varied and pretty healthy.  We don’t eat meat every day, and when we do, it’s almost always the grass-fed variety. There was even year when I only ate fish.  I was living in Italy at the time and spending the holidays at my brother in law’s farm in Tuscany. On Christmas morning, a beautiful little calf, Natalina, was born and we went down to see her. She looked at me with her big brown eyes and licked my hand.  (I grew up in New York City with little direct cow contact, so this was pretty special.) When we returned to the house, Christmas lunch was on the table. What was it, you ask? A roast.  I pushed it around my plate, thinking of poor Natalina, and reached for the vegetables. It is an odd thing, and surely horrible thing, to like animals but then eat them, and yet my reserve lasted for about a year. I was seduced by a grilled hot dog, and I fell off the wagon.

Last year my family gave up meat for Lent because my son decided that he wanted to give it a try (we aren’t even a Catholic family, but the kid always gives something up every year anyway.) My husband had been flirting with the idea for years and it turned out he didn’t miss it -- at all. He said that he even felt better. I did fine, most of the time, but occasionally, I missed it. And, truthfully, I didn’t really feel any better. After the 40 days was over, I realized that while I was quite happy to eat less meat, I honestly didn’t want to say no to my Sunday bacon (Flying Pigs Farm…hello lover), my monthly  Shackburger, or the occasional treat of Di Palo’s prosciutto. (And, OK, even a rare I-don’t-know-what’s-in-this-but-love-it, Gray’s Papaya hot dog.) My somewhat carnivorous kids didn't want to give it up either. My daughter, who is all the width of a pencil and has to eat, or she’ll vanish, will pull me to the side and plead, “Meat tonight. Please.”

Here we are, about four months later. I stand by my man, and his heart. I’m glad he’s doing what he feels he needs to do to stay healthy, and I am very grateful that he hasn’t become to preachy or smug about his new diet. For my part, it has made me more thoughtful about choosing meat, and I do try to find other alternatives when I can. Still, on some days when I’m not feeling creative in the kitchen, I curse Sanjay under my breath.

The Holiday Tipping Point

Every year I can see it coming in my apartment building. The floors are waxed to a dazzling shine, the walls get fresh splash of paint, the super responds more promptly to my funky drain, and the handy man suddenly learns how to smile in the morning. It’s tipping time! Happy holidays and happy headaches trying to figure out how much to tip, or what to give when your cash flow is as dry as the Sahara--thank you, crappy economy.

The holidays are a time when we’d like to give special thanks to those who make our lives easier, our nannies and children’s teachers, cleaning ladies, building personnel, and our hairdressers or barbers. Often, that special “thank you” is expressed with cash. However, in these lean and mean times, everyone has to be a little more creative with what they give, and little more flexible with what they receive.

In fact, I had nice little chat on The Today Show with Hoda and Kathie Lee on the subject.
Click here to see the video



If you your cash flow is limited, here are some things to keep in mind:

• Do not feel obliged to dole out cash if it’s going to wreck your budget and cause hardship.
• Tap into your creativity. Do you make a mean tomato sauce, jam, or fudge? Invest in pretty jars, boxes and labels, and get thee to the kitchen.
• Use your skill set. If you are a savvy business person, give an hour or so of your time to help the super get his side business together. Are you good a math wiz? Offer to tutor your hairdresser’s son for a few hours. Are you an ace fundraiser?  If your personal assistant is passionate about a charity, work a few hours in his or her name.
• Write a beautiful card and put your heart in it. Especially if you’re not one of those people who tend to be demonstrative during the year, let the recipient know what their efforts mean to you. 

If you are giving cash, here are some guidelines (And while you’re at it, go the extra mile -- don’t give those crumpled bills in your wallet. Stop by the bank for crisp ones!):

• Nanny & Cleaning Lady: One to two week’s pay, depending on her tenure. Now, if you have a new person working for you, you can give her half of that. Include a note that you looking forward to longstanding relationship.
• Babysitter:  One or two night’s pay. 
• Building Super: $40 to $100. (Sometimes this can be even more, especially in big cities.)
• Doorman:  $25 to $100, if you have multiple doormen, $15 to $30 per guy.
• Handy Man: $15 to $40. (With the latter three, if you tend to tip them generously throughout the year, you can bring it down a bit.)

• Hairdresser, barber, or beautician: The cost of one haircut or treatment, or half that plus a small treat and a note. 
• Landscaper:  $20 to $50.
• Dog Walker: One to two week’s pay.  
• Newspaper Delivery guy/girl:  $10 to $30.
• Postal Workers: They are not allowed to accept cash, but gifts that don’t exceed the cost of $20 are appreciated.

No cash, for teachers (not allowed), but we love them.
They can’t and shouldn’t accept cash, but a small gift (gift cards for dinner, movies and books are popular) and a heartfelt note from you and your child are good choices. Check your school’s policy on gifting to make sure you don’t create an embarrassing situation.

So...give, but not until it hurts!

Wrapper's Delight

I just came from a shoot for Mommy in Chief, a web series on the Madame Noire website. I got to chat with lovely host, Karyn Parsons, about all things wrap.

During the holiday season, household trash increases by about 25%, resulting in 5 million extra tons of garbage. Add to that the money spent on paper, and you realize how much waste we're putting out there.

It pays to get creative. Gift wrapping happens all year long, so you might as well make it cost effective, make it green, and have some fun with it.

I remember once reading that Candy Spelling, the late producer Aaron Spelling's wife, had a whole room just for gift wrapping...it was intense.Well, I have a messy little shelf where I store a few things --when I remember. Here are some items that can come in handy:


Old Newspapers, Magazines, Comics, and Maps
These are all terrific because you can custom wrap accordingly. The comics for a child, or the child at heart; the maps for the globetrotter; the pages of W for your style maven friend, etc. You can also do the same with any old maps you might have; they're colorful and unexpected. Your only extra cost here is ribbon, so just add something bright and festive and you've created a lovely personalized package.


Fabric Remnants
Fabric remnants are also a great way to go. I have small bolts that have come back as gifts from India and Africa. Beautiful stuff, but I'm probably not going to learn to sew that perfect little pencil skirt, so I put the fabric to better use. You might have some pieces like this sitting in your closet; or perhaps some curtains or a table cloth sitting around.  Invest in some craft scissors to even out edges and tie it all up with some pretty yarn or twine. You can even add a contrasting color fabric to create a bow.


Butcher Paper in White and Brown
Butcher paper is a great investment, and you can buy recycled versions as well. Generally, for about $20, you can get huge rolls of paper. It can be used for any holiday or occasion, allowing you to custom decorate with colorful stamps and stickers. Kids really love helping out here, so put them to work!
You can add natural touches, like a bit of pine branch, pine cone, cinnamon sticks, dried flowers (borrow elements from potpourri that has lost its scent), or the shells you've collected over the years, etc. A glue gun will probably work best here, but if I've lost you at the mention of "glue gun," (I can get lost there too), a nice glob of Elmer's generally works fine.

Gift as Wrap:
Sometimes you don't even need paper. Giving something like a scarf and gloves? As artfully as you can, roll the scarf around the gloves, tie with a nice thick bow, and let the fringe spill out on top. A gift such a serving spoons looks great wrapped in a pretty dishtowel tied with ribbon.



More Tips:

Save greeting cards: They can be repurposed as gift tags. Just cut them neatly into squares, punch a hole in a corner, and add some ribbon.


Keep some old wrapping paper and tissue paper on hand:
No, I'm not suggesting that you hoard, but some of that old paper can come in handy. You can run it through a paper shredder and use it as pretty, festive padding for fragile gifts.

And that's a wrap.