For Myself, and For the Fans

“I'm tired of reading about geese,” my sister-in-law said at Thanksgiving. That’s not the first time I’ve heard that sentiment this month.

It’s been 3 weeks since my last blog entry - a short, quick blurb I wrote, after minimal postings in October. I love to write and I really enjoy blogging, but my life has been getting in the way. Nothing glamorous I’m afraid. No jetting off to Paris, like my mother. No long weekend hitting the tables in Vegas. No lucrative business contract, filling my days and nights. Just life – kids, cars, pets, school, church, house . . . .

I’ve got to keep up the writing, not just for me, but apparently also for the fans. So, I’m making my New Year’s Resolution a month early. I’m getting my priorities in order. My commitment: to write at least one blog a week. I wanted to shoot for 2, but I need to be realistic. It’s the Christmas holiday season, after all. I may have a few other things on my plate.

I start my new charge today. The unraked leaves can wait. The dirty laundry is not going anywhere. Those dishes in the sink, well they've been sitting for a while. What's a little while longer? First, I blog. For myself, and for the fans.

Keep checking back. Don’t hesitate to send me a little nudge every now and again, like my sister-in-law. Everyone can use help sticking to their New Year’s Resolutions.

Let the Geese Speak

Some people count sheep to fall asleep. Some walk their dog for daily exercise. Others gaze at fish circling in an aquarium to relieve stress. Animals serve as helpmates and friends in many ways.

I write to the melodic sounds of honking geese. I kid you not. Somewhere in my suburban Towson neighborhood lives a gaggle of geese. I’m not sure exactly where they live or when they came, but I first heard the commotion about 3 months ago. The geese don't host loud honking parties every day. But when they gather, their din is comparable to a room full of teenage girls. Slightly distracting, but oddly comforting, in their familiar animated manner. My new neighbors provide a welcome distraction.

Do you have the scoop on these odd Towson pets? I’d love to hear. Their unusual choice of a home must have a story. One day, I may head out back and track down the location of such clamor. Dig at the truth for myself. For now, I simply write and enjoy the lively company they provide.

The Secret to Free Newspapers

I know a secret - How to get your newspaper for free.

I’m not talking about temporarily free delivery. You know, where they give you the first 12 weeks for free and then they start billing you. In that scenario, you eventually pay. I’m talking no-strings attached free! I’m talking newspapers piling up on your front lawn, a rainbow of plastic covered papers scattered about.

Are you ready for the secret? Here it is: Cancel your subscription.

I mean it. Cancel your subscription. Tell them you just don’t have time to read every day, what with your busy life and all. They won’t believe you. The bills will stop coming, but the delivery will continue. Call them back. Tell them they must have forgotten to relay the message to the delivery driver. Remind them - you don’t want the paper anymore. They still won’t believe you. They will think you don’t want to pay, but you still really want to read their newspaper.

As the papers continue to arrive, be sure to call again. Tell them you travel a lot and if papers pile up on the front lawn, it’s like a great big “I’m not home sign” for the less-than-honest folks in the world. They won’t care. Your newspapers will still arrive.

I stumbled onto a brilliant plan really. A brilliant plan if I actually wanted to get my newspapers for free. Which I don’t. I’d like to go green and read on-line. I’d like to avoid hauling a pile of papers out back for the recycling truck every week. I’d like stop collecting those little plastic sleeves the newspapers come in. The only thing those plastic sleeves are good for is picking up dog poop. Trust me, my dog is never going to poop enough to use up my ever growing supply.

As I inadvertently learned the secret to free newspaper delivery, I felt compelled to share. So go ahead, try it. Start your free subscription today. Be sure to let me know how it works out.

Are you called to be a Helicopter Parent?

I wanted to be a Helicopter Parent – really I did.

I wanted to read every book the English teacher ever assigned, so I could have discussions with my son at the dinner table. I wanted to bone up on my algebra and geometry, so I could check my daughter's math homework for accuracy. I just didn’t have the time.

I wanted to be at school every day helping out in the office or in the art room. I wanted to be the volunteer parent who knows all the teachers and administrators by name. I had to be at work instead.

I wanted to be the parent who called the teacher to task when they treated a child unfairly. I wanted to say “Hey – I know your job is tough, but can you try a little harder, because these are our children.” My children asked me to me keep my mouth shut.

I couldn’t be a Helicopter Parent, but I’m glad someone was there to answer the call.

Baby boomers have brought a lot of improvements to parenting – relationships are more open and honest. Tough topics are discussed, rather than hidden in the closet. Parents are more proactive. They no longer release their children to the unknown at school, on the sports field or elsewhere, trusting the best will happen. When they send their babies off to college, they don’t simply cross their fingers and pray. Now, the connections remain and the discussions continue.

I do still highly recommend crossing your fingers and praying when you send them off to college. With such abounding freedom, much can happen when you’re not around.

Sure, some parents go overboard. I’ve heard the stories of parents confronting coaches about playing time, challenging teachers on their choices of test questions or contacting bosses about performance reviews. But let’s put this in perspective. Going a bit overboard is not unique to parenting.

Have you seen the folks with way too many Christmas decorations on their lawns? Did you ever have a neighbor who took in every stray cat she found? Who doesn’t have a friend or colleague who is a tad over-attentive to their car?

I think Helicopter Parents have gotten a bad rap. Quite frankly, I thank them - for insisting on accountability, fairness and honesty. Applied in moderation, they can be quite beneficial. It’s too late for me to become a Helicopter Parent, my kids are almost grown. But it might not be too late for you.

Road Rage Confession

I took a little heat from my girlfriends about my Road Rage blog in August. You see, I had a little “incident” back in April. One I prefer to pretend never happened. They say confession is good for the soul, so here goes.

Six of us were heading to Key West for a rare girls’ weekend. Our brilliant plan: get up at 4 AM, catch the early flight into Miami, rent a car, drive 4 hours through the Keys and be sipping Mojitos pool-side by noon. My memory of the road rage incident is a bit foggy. I was terribly sleep deprived and blinded by pain. (See my June blog titled Bedside Manner, the one with a warning about flying when you have fluid on the ear.)

I vaguely recall taking a wrong turn out of the airport, spending an hour driving through Miami looking for an on-ramp to the highway. When I finally located the highway ramp, an aggressive driver was unwilling to let me merge in. (You know the drivers who speed up once you put on your blinker, so you can't get in?) I do recall a raised voice emitting a few expletives, (I didn’t see anyone else’s lips moving, so that might have been me), a finger being raised (quite possibly the middle one), and a loud horn blairing (did that come from my car?). When I turned to the gals for comaraderie, to diss the idiot who almost hit us, they looked at me with fear and trepidation. Uh-oh.

I am embarrassed. I am ashamed. I'd like to plead temporary insanity, please. But, hey gals – I am confessing! That, and a round of Mojitos, might get me invited back next year. Or, might not.

See what can happen? Be careful when you are driving. Road Rage is never OK. But, hey folks - can you also try to remember to be polite behind the wheel and let that car full of lost girls merge in? Perhaps you will help keep folks like me from being put on the "maybe" list for next year's trip.

Good Grades, Bribery & the value of Oreo Cookies

With the onset of the school year, the theory of paying students for good grades is back in the news. Seems some school systems are working on a new plan for student success – an incentive compensation package, if you will. Folks are in an uproar.

Can we get real for a minute? Is paying students for good grades really such a foreign concept? Parents have been rewarding their kids with cash and treats for decades. Sure, we all had lofty ideals when our child was still in the womb. But what parent did not learn the value of bribery the first time their two year old dug in their heels with an emphatic “No!” I am not ashamed to admit that Oreo cookies saw me through the terrible two’s. (all three times!)

Come on parents – I know you are with me on this one. We have all dangled the car keys in front of our teens as motivation. Whether the goal was finishing homework or mowing the lawn, is not relevant.

I don’t think the real controversy is over the issue of bribery.
I think the real issue is about who is paying for it, literally.
Monetary rewards must come out of the budget somewhere.

Do I think this plan will succeed? Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t.
Who am I to judge? As a parent of teens, let me just say this:
If I thought this plan would work in my house, trust me, I’d try it.

And I bet you would too.

Save me from the Rain-maniacs!

First, we have people in Galviston, Texas who don’t evacuate when a 19 foot wave surge is predicted. Every station shows the eye of the storm heading directly toward them, still they remain. Not just a few people - 15,000 people don’t leave for higher ground.

Then, we have Baltimore - the weather woosey capital of the world! We were expecting rain Friday evening, actually a bit of a thunderstorm. Winds and heavy rain fall were predicted. Many folks left work early. Just in case. They cancelled all public school and rec league sports activities, for the entire weekend. Just in case. The police where on the roads in full force. Just in case.

Its RAIN people – drive slower, use your headlights and bring an umbrella. How hard is this?!

Thank goodness we don’t get many hurricanes here in Baltimore. If there was actually some real threat potential, we’d be evacuating every other week. And trust me, there would not be 15,000 people staying behind. They’d be flocking out of town like a Baltimore beehive.

Don't get me started on the snow – that’s a whoooole other thing when you live in Bawlmer, hon.

Actually, the next major storm – I’m having a party. Anyone who is not a rain-maniac is welcome. Bring an umbrella and a bottle of wine. We’ll hunker down and ride out the storm together.

Forget the Slots, I Have Another Plan

Today I watched the most pathetic attempt at parallel parking. It was painful really. Made me think – we should re-qualify people to parallel park, annually. Heck, drivers should be periodically required to prove they actually know how to drive a car.

Think about it. Many professions require completion of continuing education to guarantee proficiency over the years. Yet, we hand some teenager a driver’s license and they are good-to-go for life?!

Think about your elderly loved ones. All eventually reach a stage when they have no business being behind the wheel, but no one has the guts to tell them. Who dares to ask Grandpa to hand over the keys? Not I.

Think about the increase in state revenue, from the re-take fees alone! We don’t need slots in Maryland, just driver recertification. It’s a brilliant financial plan really. It would create jobs, generate revenue, increase safety on our roadways.

It’s something to think about . . . .

Mystery of the Disappearing Mailboxes

Someone please explain the mystery of the disappearing mailboxes. What brilliant bureaucrat decided a swift and stealthy removal was necessary?

In case you are reading this from afar, I live in Baltimore. Towson to be exact. Our local U.S. Post Office decided to remove some 30 blue steel mailboxes from perches in neighborhoods around town. They simply disappeared. Overnight. No warning. No discussions. No community meetings. Just gone.

Don’t get me wrong – I applaud their effort to reduce wasteful spending. Apparently many of these boxes were underutilized. I support attempts to conserve gasoline resources and reduce vehicle emissions. No more driving around town to empty these mailboxes twice a day. The decision for a covert removal is where my problem lies. Are we 3 years old? Do you have to hide the pacifier to wean us?

The brilliant bureaucrat who devised this plan was right in one respect. Residents were not going to like it. People were going to stomp their feet, whine a little, and perhaps cry. Hey buddy - you work for the Federal Government, is this something new? You couldn’t come up with a better plan than tip toe into the nursery and snatch the security blanket from the crib?

If you don’t want us to act like 3-year olds, don’t treat us like 3-year olds. We get it. We can do the math. We understand the economics of “reduce.” It would have been nice if someone had given us a little notice. Or (gasp) given us a voice in the decision-making process.

Next time, just put on your big boy panties please and treat us like adults.

Survival Skills for Back-to-School Night

My back-to-school night blog launched a myriad of discussions. Some folks shared stories. Others expressed surprise that I still attended these, 20 years, 3 children and some 50 visits later. Still others asked my advice, as they too march toward this same milestone. “How do you survive 50 of these?” they ask.

I believe knowledge is worthless unless shared. So, here I offer you my top 5 tips for surviving 50 back-to-school nights.

1. Review the school floor plan with your child in advance. Be sure to find out which route and staircase your child uses to navigate between classes. (If you’ve ever tried to get to a 4th floor classroom at Towson High, you know what I’m talking about.) You don’t want to be late. Then, the teacher remembers you, and not in a good way.

2. Time your arrival at the school for a smidge after the PTSA elections, but just before they run out of the $5 school directories. (Sorry, If I'm offending any PTA members, but does anyone ever contest these elections? Have you ever heard anyone speak up when they ask “opposed?” Never happens. Just skip it. Trust me, everyone will be elected and the budget will be passed.) Use your time more wisely. Go home after work. Grab a bite to eat. Change into something comfortable. Then head over to school. It's OK really.

3. Remember school is a social environment for parents as well as students. Take the time to stop in the hallway, say hello, chit-chat or high-five your friends. Socialization is the cornerstone of back-to-school night survival.

4. Ask your child which friends they have in each class. This lets you know which parents to look for. After all, you need someone to sit with in the back of the classroom and whisper to as the teacher drones on. I mean really - what are they sharing in a 3 ½ minute session that you did not already read on some take-home paper last week?

5. Always go for the extra credit. Sign the parent sign-in sheet, pretend to take notes and be sure to introduce yourself to the teacher before you leave. Your child will get good-parent bonus points for this. Trust me, they’ll need it. You don’t know what they are doing every minute of every day and really, you don’t want to know. Just go for the bonus points.

My daughter said, “Mom, what if there are teachers who read your blog?” I said, “You know honey, your teachers are wiser than you think. Trust me, they have their own private list of back-to-school-night survival skills.”

Perhaps one day, a teacher will share these with me. If so, I’ll be sure to post them on my blog. After all, I believe knowledge is worthless unless shared.