Windy City Momma

Can you really teach on old dog new tricks?

Renee — Sun, 24 Jan 2010 20:29:12 +0000

Maya in the Snow

A month or so ago, friends of ours came over for dinner. After several glasses of wine, the conversation inevitably focused on the dog and my frustration with her immense dislike of other dogs. Of course everyone had an opinion on the best way to curtail this behavior.

If you have every had a pet who has a nasty habit, albeit humping strangers’ legs, barking incessantly at its shadow or scratching its butt by dragging it across the carpeted floor, then you know that any criticism is taken personally. Well, at least I did/do. So, while offering advice and labeling it as “we were just trying to help” our friends innocently stepped in it with me, and told me that I needed to get a prong collar.

I am DEAD SET against these collars! They look like a torture tool and I promised myself that I would NEVER buy one. So, of course, I reacted defensively and passionately when they offered their opinion. My reaction was so severe that I seriously thought my husband was going to kick me in the shins to get me to stop “attacking” our friend’s opinion. In the interim, when not recommending the torture necklace, they told me that spending upwards of $500 was too much to pay for one on one training for a “Dog Whisper.” The evening, needless to say, did not end well.

The next day, one of my friends called and, after asking me if I had recovered, suggested that I call a canine training facility in Grey’s Lake, IL: TOPS. http://www.tops-k9.com/ TOPS is well known for training police dogs. If anyone can get through to Maya and tell me if she was a lost cause, my friend said that these trainers would. She urged me to stop contacting dog trainers and call TOPS. But I still wasn’t convinced that this was the answer to my dilemma.

After taking Maya to PetSmart the next weekend and watching her charge at anything with four legs, I decided that I needed to call TOPS. They set up an appointment with their lead trainer, Luis. Last Friday, the family, the dog and I drive the hour north to Greys Lake and placed the fate of our dog in the hands of this stranger.

Would he be able to train our dog and allow us the ability to take walks during the light of day? Or would we be destined to walk Maya at off hours and late at night to avoid any interactions with the neighbors and their seemingly friendly pets?

Let’s just say that the sign telling us to LEAVE THE DOG IN THE CAR PRIOR TO CHECKING INTO THE OFFICE told me that we were not alone. It was a relief that there were other families encountering the same problem with their dogs that we were. So, I left Maya in the car and checked in. The trainer, Luis, was quite unassuming, grabbed a leather leash and, of course, a prong collar, and told me to get the dog.

To say that she was pulling and lunging as I took her out of the car is an understatement. Maya was out for blood! She wanted to attack all the dogs hanging out in the facility; and the blisters on my hands proved that she almost did. But the minute (the second really) that Luis put that collar and leash on my dog, and quickly but sharply pulled up on the collar, Maya stopped lunging and growling. She was a different dog. She didn’t cry out in pain or growl at Luis; she just ceased being aggressive.

He took her into the training center, where yes, there were other dogs, and at first she tried to lunge at the other dogs. With one quick pull (no yelling) and the command to sit, Maya learned to stop being (his words)” a bully”. By the end of the hour, Maya could not only be in the same room as other dogs, she could walk in front of them without even giving the dogs a second glance. The prong collar worked and my dog was not in pain. She just stopped the abhorrent behavior. And I purchased the collar and leather leash on the spot. Thoughts of torture left my mind as visions of communal neighborhood picnics flooded it. If the pronged collar meant that we would no longer be pariahs.

And so, it is time that I admit that I was wrong. Yes, E & J, I have admitted it: You were both right and I was wrong. Had I listened to your advice in the first place, I would have saved myself the many (now healing) blisters and embarrassing moments with my dog. Thank you for getting me to the right place. You saved me quite a bit of $$ and my ego. And for these gifts, I am grateful. What better way to show my appreciation than to publicly announce that I was wrong and should have listened to you.

Now, any recommendations for how to get the dog to stop crapping in the house?

I said that I would never get a dog!

Renee — Mon, 18 Jan 2010 23:43:45 +0000

Looking objectively at my life, I have enough responsibility: a child, a husband, a full-time out-of-the home job, a mortgage, a cat and various and sundry responsibilities such as trying to keep up friendships. Ha! So, when my daughter approached me last year and asked if we could get a dog, I told her to “Forget it!” Then, later in the year, my DH and I bought her a mechanical dog “Biscuit” as a pseudo-stand in for the real thing; her enthusiasm for the toy lasted almost a week. Three months later, she came back to me and again asked for a dog. This time she approached me with a list of reasons why we needed a dog. I responded by offering her a compromise and a challenge: I would get her a goldfish and if she could keep it alive for at least a year, then we could CONSIDER getting a dog. (The goldfish died 2 days later; I was, of course, blamed for its untimely death.)

Finally, I relented. I agreed to get a pug because I knew that K thought that they were really ugly. But when she finally met a real pug, she fell in love. I also knew that we would never find the time to find a pure-breed. I figured that I had some time before K asked me again. What I did not count on what my DH approaching me on the flight home from Baltimore after Thanksgiving with my family. I admit, I was tired from the trip and really looking forward to getting home. Let’s admit it, I was weak and agreed to “look” at dogs at Orphans of the Storm (www.orphansofthestorm.org) a local animal shelter in the area. I told K that this was no guarantee we were getting a dog (who was I kidding? Of course we were going to get a dog!)

And guess what? There was only one dog that I wanted: a German Shepherd. No small dogs for me! I grew up with Shepherds and if there was a female German Shepherd available for adoption, I was going to get her! Well, it was Kismet, of course. And we have adopted a German Shepherd, Maya.

Maya is six years old and a full breed German Shepherd complete with the typical German Shepherd personality quirks: sensitive stomach, VERY smart, whiny and loving. We have no idea what happened during the past 6 years and the previous owners did not share her pedigree papers with the shelter. So, we have no idea of her lineage or any past experiences that she might have had with her last family. But she is almost perfectly trained, knows basic commands, likes to walk on a leash and doesn’t steal food off of the counter or the kitchen table. (Well, there was that time that I left butter on the counter and she ate an entire stick, but let’s not hold that against her, shall we?) There is only one complaint: She HATES other dogs and is not a big fan of people walking on the street towards us when we are walking. I never seen a German Shepherd act this way! She literally lunges, snaps and refuses to acknowledge me when she sees another dog! Because we live in an area where almost everyone has a dog, you can imagine how embarrassing it is to have the one dog on the block who would like to tear apart all the other ones!

So, Maya and I are off to TOPS, a German Shepherd training center, in Greyslake, IL this Friday. I promise to write what I find out about this dog. Will she be able to overcome her hatred for other members of the canine community or will we be doomed to walk this dog at odd hours of the day and night? Is this simply a lack of self-esteem? Or was Maya attacked by a gang of pugs in her past and continues to hold a grudge?

The mind boggles…Wish me luck and please, if you have suggestions for how to tame my dog, aside from giving her drugs prior to our twice daily constitutional, please let me know. I am comfortable with Maya ignoring other dogs; but I am not so happy with her desire to eat them.

Save the Earth: One Aveda Customer at a Time

Renee — Mon, 13 Jul 2009 04:52:36 +0000

I am a huge fan of Aveda. Anyone who knows me that I am a true blue Aveda girl. Sure, a bottle of large hair conditioner can cost a girl but, if it saves the purple stripe in my hair, then it is worth it. But this tale is not about Aveda (however it does play a role.)

Yesterday, I stopped by my local Aveda store in the mall for a cup of tea and to purchase some moisture saving product: Damage Remedy. Anyway, it is important to point out that I was wearing one of my “peace-nic” save the earth t-shirts we wanna-be Quakers seem to be purchasing in bulk these days. My shirt appropriately said something like “There is no way to peace, peace is the way…Live simply in order to simply live, reduce, reuse, recycle” etc. So you can imagine my surprise when I spotted two “mature” ladies shuffling through the store virtually torturing the sales girl with ridiculous questions about this cream and that shampoo and does the bath salt truly contain salt?

In the back of mind, I was thinking, “Oh crap. I need to get home. Maybe I should just can it and get my butt home before Adam and Kayla beat me home?” But I decided to hang in there; just to see how this scene would play out.

The two witches hobble to the counter and immediately ask the sales girl “So how much is this junk going to cost me?” Oh! NO SHE DIDN’T! Remember, I am a tried and true AVEDA girl and she is calling my product “junk.” I, again, ask myself what these two ladies are doing at Aveda? It turns out that Witch #1 received a birthday card in the mail offering her a 5% discount on her next Aveda purchase and a free Sensual journey. As the sales girl wraps up the sale, she asks the ladies “Would you like to help the environment by choosing not to get a bag for your purchases?” Instead if saying “No, thank you. I could really use the bag to hold my (Depends, Reading glasses, coupons) she tells the girl “I don’t care about the environment. I’ll be dead before anything happens to the world. I could care less.” At first thought that this was a joke but realized that she was serious. She (first) did not give a shit about the environment and (second) was really that obnoxious–this was no act. So the foolish salesgirl continues on this path of questioning despite her first attempt to decrease her carbon footprint and offers to the witch “but what about me? What about your grandchildren?Don’t you care what happens to us?” (As if this one person’s decision to have a paper bag will make a huge difference?) The customer replies “I’ll be dead before any of this matter. No, I don’t care what happens.”

Okay, so I figure that the conversation has ended and thought that the two ladies would leave the store not understanding its purpose but feeling righteous by receiving a free present. But, the nacent salesgirl offers the old bitty a “sensual journey? All you will need to do is take a seat and..” She is immediately interrupted and told that she (the customer) knows that this is all a scam and she doesn’t have tine for this nonsense of sitting down. Now, I am thinking “Cool, now I can get my stuff aka: junk” and at the same time : What is this old lady doing in Aveda?” She is dressed in old lady drab (not a cotton clothing article to be found and doesn’t seem to have a clue.

The ladies depart and as they are almost halfway out the door, I of course, open my big mouth and yell “I guess someone did not get her Prunes today, did she?”

I despise people being rude to sales folk who want to help or assist them instead of so many others who could care less. I wanted to do something for this girl– a hug, a smile or even a giggle.

Don’t think for a second when I left that store, the 2 biddies had scrambled out of site. I was dying for a confrontation inspite of my hippy shirt. These ladies deserved a formal tongue lashing! What a bad impression to leave on our young adults!

I was left with my friend, MK,’s favorite word for describing how the locals feel about themseleves because they live in this area: Entitled. I am still asking “What are they entitled to that us other working dorks are not so lucky to receive?” I have no answer tonight but I am still on my quest for the truth about this area.

If she only knew her power

Renee — Fri, 19 Jun 2009 03:35:03 +0000

“Momma!” she cried when I came into the house after a long, stressful day. If she only knew…

What joy she brings to those around her just be expressing her love of life?

How much I look forward to her hugs and kisses and never want them to end?

How truly magical it is to just take some time out of the day and share our dreams?

That I love helping her get dressed in the morning and wish that it would never end?

I sleep much better when she is curled in my arms, snoring?

Cuddling and watching movies together?

Does she know how scared I was that I would be the worst mother? Does she know how scared I was of children before she taught me how to play again?

Okay, so maybe this isn’t my usual complaining blog about some injustice to women or a store’s inability to assist customers. But today’s post is pretty important to me. If Kayla knew how much I love spending time with her and how hard it is to say goodbye each morning when she leaves for camp or when I leave for work, she wouldn’t doubt for a minute for the rest of her life that her mother loves and admires her. How blessed I feel to have this wonderful person in my life.

The garden hose

Renee — Tue, 16 Jun 2009 03:35:34 +0000

It just so happens that I work near a Home Depot and we could say that it is more convenient for me to get to the store than, say, my husband. But, I really don’t like going there.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I love building things and looking at light fixtures, plumbing fixtures and power tools. I am the first in the family to try to rebuild a toy. I just don’t like going to the store. I think that it has something to do with the store layout. But more than the layout, I despise (hate, loathe, want to pull on my hair out and scream for mercy) when I have to return something to the store.

Our garden hose did not survive the winter. To say that it sprung a leak is an understatement. So, my husband politely asked me to return the hose to HD and ask for a gift card. He even put the darn thing in the back of my car so I would not get too dirty from the winter sludge. When I asked how I was going to get the mammoth pile of decaying rubber (or plastic?) out of my car, he suggested getting a giant flat cart. Good thinking.

So, there I am, all 5′2 of me pulling on the hose. There are plenty of people in the parking lot who might have been willing to lend a hand. After all, I was wearing my professional garb including heels. But alas, no one offered to help and I was left with dragging this thing onto a squeaking flat bed cart. Once the hose had transferred all of its dirt to my clothes, we (Snakey, the garden hose) and I headed to the return section of the store.

I had one hour before I needed to pick up Kayla from after school care; plenty of time to get in, return Snakey and get the heck out of Dodge. But I was behind several strong smelling men who took their time. By the time I got to the head of the line, 15 minutes had passed.

I pushed Snakey to the return counter and the very toothy and not to pleased sales associate looked at me, the hose and then said “What is this? You got a receipt?” Uh, what do you think it is lady? A ginormous boa constrictor? And no, I did not have a receipt! I explained to her that I had purchased the thing last year and they should be able to look me up in her system. But instead of even going through the “pretend” action of looking me up in her computer she asked me “How do I know that you really bought these hoses here?” Uh… Because you sell them at the store.

So without saying a word, she walked away from me and returned with a gentleman who gave me and my hose (!) the once over (I swear, I was not wearing anything mildly interesting!) Mr. Manager said to me, “Sure, we sell these hoses but we don’t guarantee them.” I’m sorry? Home Depot Dude says what? Okay, you carry the freakin hoses in the store, and I bought them at that very Home Deport but the store doesn’t guarantee their product!?

So the Home Depot dude writes down the names of the companies that sell the hoses currently in my possession and tells me that I can send them (the companies) their hoses, explain why I was returning them and request that I either receive a “certificate” for a new hose or monetary compensation. The dude was nuts! Was I the only person involved in the conversation looking at the girth and length of these hoses? Did he really think that I was going to send these plastic snakes to Good Year and whatever other company sells the green plastic garden variety garden hose?

There was only one thing to do. I looked at Home Depot dude and Return Lady with Attitude, looked at the hoses and said, “Enjoy your new hoses folks.” And promptly walked out of the store. The people who had been standing behind me gasped and gawked at me (or at least I imagined that they did) as I took my “Gloria Swanson-like” exit.

I was ready for my close up but not with a dirty garden hose. What will happen now? I can only hope that they found a good home–or at least some duct tape. Me? I went to Home Depot’s competition who, coincidently, told me that they stand by their products but, just in case, I really should hold onto my receipt.

Good to know…good to know.

LUSH- Good smelling and Good for the Earth

Renee — Sun, 31 May 2009 16:02:36 +0000

Yesterday, my daughter asked me if Mother Nature worked for Father Earth. Interesting, I wanted to explain that they were the same thing and that there really isn’t a Father Earth. But her reasons for asking had more to do with saving and being more globally aware so I left it alone for now.

But she left me thinking about what I was doing to help sustain better foods, leave less of a carbon footprint..yada, yada, yada and then I went to take a shower. As I pondered the conversation using my amazing KARMA soap from Lush. I decided to check out their website and see what THEY were doing. This is what I found and what I would like to share with you. Looks like Lush is holding a fabulous contest this spring and I wanted to help spread the word (a) because I love their products (b) because if you are reading my blog I probably have some form of affection for you and (c) because I would love if someone who I am connected to actually won one of the prizes. There is nothing in it for me. No one contacted me and asked me to blog on the contest. I just thought that it is a great idea and I wanted to share it. Here are the details…

Show us how you make a difference in your community; make the world greener and a more beautiful place.

Tell us your stories and show us your green thumb: what did you do with your seed bomb? How do you help in your community garden? How do you participate in an act of greening your community (and yes, watering the office plants and efforts around your workplace do count!)?

How it Works

ENTER – Read though this overview and contest rules, then complete our online entry formthat includes open-form questions about what you are doing to help make our world more beautiful. Voting starts April 20, we will accept entries throughout the entire contest period. You can see a sample entry here.

GET VOTES – Next, tell all your friends, family and all about the contest and encourage them to visit www.lush.com/seedthenationvoting and vote for you. (Renee Here: You need not vote for me because I am not participating. I want YOU to!) Your supporters can vote once per IP address per day.

CHECK YOUR PROGRESS – Everyone can see how you are doing by checking out the Green Graph next to your contest entry. The more green showing, the better your chances to make it to the final round. Online voting ends on June 21.

How We Pick the Winners

After our customers and online visitors have had their say, the top 15 percent of all the vote getters will be our finalists. Then, the LUSH Team will review these entries and select the top 10 Green Thumbs.

The Big Announcement

We will announce the top 10 winners online on June 29, 2009.

The Prizes

We will award 10 eco-friendly prizes for the top 10 Green Thumbs.

Grand Prize

Two Bicycles (retail value of $500 each):
One grand prize winner will be selected from the top green thumbs in Canada
One grand prize winner will be selected from the top green thumbs in U.S

First Place Prizes

Four Gardener’s dream gift sets
Two winners will be selected from the top green thumbs in Canada
Two winners will be selected from the top green thumbs in the U.S.

The perfect tool to keep your hands, feet and body silky smooth after a long day in your garden:

Lemony Flutter Cuticle Butter	Fair Trade foot lotion
Helping Hands hand cream	Volcano foot mask
Dream Cream body cream	Paradise Regained moisturizer
Fizzy O’Therapy bath bomb	Breath of Fresh Air toner
Tisty Tosty bath bomb	Soft Touch body butter
Honey Bee bath bomb	Wiccy Magic Muscles massage bar
Fig N Leaves soap	French Kiss bubble bar
Sandstone soap

Second Place Prizes

4 summer gift sets
Two winners will be selected from the top green thumbs in Canada
Two winners will be selected from the top green thumbs in the U.S.

The perfect tool to keep your hands, feet and body silky smooth after a long day in your garden:

Ring of Roses butter cream	Potion Lotion body lotion
Amandopondo bubble bar	Dream Time bath melt
Auntie Pamela bubble bar	Godiva solid shampoo bar
Tisty Tosty bath bomb	Karma solid Shampoo bar
Softy bath bomb And that’s it. Again, nothing in it for me but a great idea and a wonderful product. More soon!	Bohemian Soap

Dada, dada, dada…They say it’s your birthday!

Renee — Sat, 30 May 2009 03:55:20 +0000

It’s time to be a grown up and admit, perhaps for the first time, my birthday is a really big deal to me. Yes, I want the balloons, the well wishes, the flowers and a party thrown for me. Do I want to tell anyone that this is what I want? Heck No! How can I be a professional Martyr if I tell people what I want? Where is the fun in that?

This year, my birthday fell on the day after Memorial Day and the weather, for lack of a better word, sucked. We couldn’t sail the day before and I was starting to feel like I was coming down with a cold. I tried to be a good sport about it, it’s just another day in the life, right? But I wanted something good to come out of my special day.

Let’s add a bit more information to give this tale some depth: For almost a year, I have wanted to be the “Mystery Reader” for Kayla’s Kindergarten class. But I have horrible work hours and I am lucky to get all of the MOM things that I have to do each day let alone leave my office early to read to her class. I finally manipulated my schedule for an afternoon, contacted the teacher and had my name is placed on the calendar. I figured what better way to celebrate “my special day” but with a group of 5 and 6 year olds. WHO WAS I KIDDING? ME, obviously.

Apparently there was a scheduling mistake and 2 mystery readers were scheduled for the same day. Some kid’s grandmother refused to give up her prime 2:00 p.m. spot so I (one of the mothers with limited availability, clearly) can read to the class. And thus I accepted the much more painful and less respected role of 2nd reader of the day. To make the experience just a little more painful, Kayla has chosen the most ridiculous book for me to read from her collection: Shake Them Halloween Bones. (Remember, it is still May here in the frozen tundra not matter what the weatherman says.)

And…Yes, the cold is now fully implanted in my chest and I have lost my voice. Not a little bit. Not Demi Moore-sexy lost voice but smoker for 60 years lost voice. When I could make a sound, I sounded horrible. And, did I mention that it was raining? Do now I am wet, sick and trying to swallow my pride because I am going to have to read this stupid (there is no other word for it) book to a bunch of 5 and 6 year olds (mostly boys) who have already sat through Walter the Farting Dog–to my dismay. Let’s be honest, Shake them Halloween Bones (in May) ain’t got nothing on Walter the Farting Dog.

But wait! There is more! The teacher who is ALWAYS there and maintains some order has elected to go to a funeral rather than stay for the Halloween book. There is a college student subbing for the day and the kids are wild. She cannot maintain order and there is sheer madness in the classroom prior to my entrance. This, I knew, was going to be REALLY bad. And it was.

Fast forward to me sitting in one of those little kid chairs that make me look like a giant pretzel-human thing. Despite being almost on top of me, the kids can’t hear me because there is no voice to be heard, are screaming over me and asking challenging questions like: “Why does Little Red Riding Hood look like that? Everyone knows that she is not black?” My response, at least in my head: ”Haven’t you heard of imagination people? Come on! You are 6! Open your minds a bit!”

So kids are firing off questions and my precious child has decided that this would be an ideal time to climb on my lap, try her hand at reading the book and simultaneously put (her) hand down my shirt and to pull on my bra straps. (Remember, I couldn’t yell or threaten because (a) for some reason that I am still trying to figure out, I am trying to make a good impression in front of these little ankle biters and (b) I have no voice in which to yell or do anything else. Let’s just say, it was not an ideal moment in my life. BUT are you ready for the kicker?

THIS WAS HOW I DECIDED TO SPEND MY BIRTHDAY! Yes, idiot that I am, I thought that it would be FUN to read to Kayla’s class and celebrate my birthday with the ungrateful bunch! Next time, please remind me that a facial, manicure and massage is a much better way to celebrate and less emotionally, physically and spiritually draining!

I could have gone home and at least had a drink but I stopped drinking a few months ago. I can’t drown my sorrows in cake or cookies because I have sworn off processed foods. What’s a girl to do?

I sat down at the kitchen table and cried. And a really good cry was absolutely what the Birthday Doctor ordered.

I can honestly say that this is one birthday that I am really happy is over. I think that I am going to find a random day in October and try this birthday thing again. And I will absolutely NEVER be a MYSTERY reader for a Kindergarden class again!

Department of Motor Vehicles: A Funny Place to Find Yourself

Renee — Thu, 21 May 2009 17:31:38 +0000

As a known procrastinator, it is not surprising that I waited until almost my birthday to renew my driver’s license. So in an effort not to get stuck in a bad spot (like a expired license) or upset my spouse, I decided to go visit our local MVA early (to beat the lunch crowd) and hopefully zip in an zip out. No such luck. However the time did give me a chance to look around at my fellow “brethren” and to think .

I observed that there were as many older folks as there were younger. There were so many Octogenarians and ( I don’t even know the word for) 90+ year olds waiting to renew their licenses. Many of them could not walk well. Some could not hear their names being called by the MVA staff while others were accompanied by their adult children.

At the same time, there was the younger crowd (okay, they were mostly girls) talking on their cell phones or texting while waiting in line with their parents who probably sat several seats behind them.

Anyway, I could not figure out who I would feel safer driving behind: The aged man who could neither hear (apparently he could see well enough to get a license) nor walk well or the distracted 16 year old paying attention to her ipod, phone, texting and yelling at her buddies in the car next to her.

Jury says: Aged Man. At least he knows that he is a bit of a risk on the road and will perhaps take some (?) precautions?

I spoke with my grandfather about this issue several years ago when he turned 90. I asked him when he was going to give it up and let others drive him where he needs to go. His answer was surprisingly honest and revealing. He told me that, to him, giving up his license was admitting that he was old and no longer capable of taking care of his life. His license = freedom. I totally get that. After all, I quit a job at a summer camp in N.C. when I was twenty because I did not have a set of wheels and felt trapped. Since then, I have never been without a car–NEVER! I can’t stand the feeling of being anywhere without an escape plan. I can’t imagine being told, “Sorry, we know that you need to go to the store but you aren’t allowed to drive anymore so you are going to have to wait until it is convenient for someone else to take you!” Not gonna happen willingly!

Which leads me to my next topic du-jour: The Porsche.

I love our 1997 Porsche Boxster. I have always wanted a little zippy car. Okay, we bought it for my husband but I figured, with a little practice, I can teach myself how to drive it. It has been an embarrassing nightmare made worse by the fact that I live in an affluent area where everyone seems to have at least one really nice car, knows each other, has no patience for new drivers (particularly those in sports cars) and that the car is bright yellow! I know, I know, “Poor little thing, can’t drive her stupid overpriced car” but it is really bothering me. I am not a person who takes “NO” easily for an answer. Even worse, I am pretty good at coming up with a good work around; but not this time.

So tonight, my MIL is picking up dd from school and I will have a chance to go home and take the car out while I do my various errands in town. It is not supposed to rain and the weather is finally lovely here. So, if you happen to see a yellow Porsche Boxster stalled out at a stop sign and a little woman yelling incoherently at the steering wheel, please give her a little slack. She knows that she can’t drive the thing. She knows that she looks like a complete ass. And yes, she knows that she needs to release slowly on the clutch while slowly depressing on the gas. Easier said than done for the girl who was kicked off of the field hockey team for complete and total lack of coordination!

And, yes, I got my driver’s license today too.

Which came first: the full time job or motherhood?

Renee — Wed, 13 May 2009 12:46:49 +0000

Question: Do I work because I want to be a better mother (provide more for my family and demonstrate for my daughter how you can “have” it all? Or am I a better mother because I went back to work? K is independant and has learned how to get along with alot of different types of people because I am not around alot to intervene and protect her. Today, I am going to explore this question and identify various sites that have lent a hand in allowing me to contine to work and spend the invaluable time that I NEED each day to be with my daughter.