Bookshelf

I just finished Joshilyn Jackson's Gods in Alabama, and I truly enjoyed it. Couldn't put it down, really.

There are so many twists and turns I don't want to preview the plot at all. Just read it and know that is isn't going where you think it's going. But once you get there, it all makes sense.

Your daily funny: My Box in a Box

Some unknown singer has created a video response to the SNL/YouTube phenomenon that was JT's Christmas Box.

Brilliant

I've got a bad case of I-wish-I'd-thought-of-that. Advertising for Peanuts commends O&M Mumbai for this brilliant Kleenex ad. A teen magazine's agony column...printed on Kleenex tissue. "This new school of advertising is smart but it's also relevant, it's true, it actually sells the product and best of all it's not really even advertising."

From the mouth of a babe

And now for the part of my blog that will haunt my daughter's preteen and teenage years. The part where I capture some of the adorable-yet-terribly-embarrassing things that come out of her mouth. Gems like...

"Baby Reid has a penis." (She said this to his mother, who was sitting for us last night. Julie apparently replied with, "Yes. Yes, he does."

"Hey Daddy! I had a big poopy! It was big and messy. It was all in my, in my 'gina! When I get bigger 'n bigger I go poopy in the potty!" (This was said to Josh after Z and I returned from a diaper change in the Crate & Barrel bathroom. She illustrated with gestures.)

And, when we were talking about the baby in Mama's tummy...

"Hi baby! Baby boy gonna have a penis?"
"Yes, if it's a boy, he will have a penis."
"Let's pull him out?"
"No, the baby is going to stay in Mama's tummy for a long time."

Your daily funny

Once again I'm behind the curve posting this Smirnoff ad/parody video, which I first saw at the office a few months back. It still cracks me up, though.

Global warming

It's been an unseasonably warm January in Chicago. Rain instead of snow and sleet. Fall jackets instead of down coats, hats and mittens. And everyone I talk to seems to agree. This is not normal. This must be global warming. And while few Chicagoans will complain about a mild winter, it's also kind of freaking us out (me and those I've talked to at least).

But you want to know what really freaks me out? Reading about places where global warming is destroying whole communities.

5 babies in 12 months

Check out this unbelievable story about a family of 8 in England that had spontaneous twins and triplets within a single year.

Good Samaritan update

So around 9pm last night, the cell phone I'd found on the sidewalk near Quaker Tower rang again. This time the called ID said "Linda T-" and the caller was Linda, the phone's real owner. She works right around the corner from where I found the phone and I gave her instructions for picking it up at my office. I also offered to mail it to her, but she said she didn't think she could survive that long without her telephone.

She called me a couple of times this morning, once inviting me to join her and her friends at Klay Oven, an Indian restaurant around the corner from my building. Eventually, around noon, she called again and I met her downstairs in the building lobby. She was a little heavy and frumpy and probably 40ish, which isn't surprising as Lindas tend to belong to a single generation.

She asked for my business card, which I gave her. My boss thinks she'll send me a thank you note or gift, but I'm just glad the mystery is solved, a happy woman has her phone back, and I've made my contribution to karma.

13 week belly

Just trying to be a good Samaritan

It was pouring rain when I left my client's office downtown around 5pm this evening. I had only walked a block or two when I spotted a mobile phone lying on the pavement. I've lost my phone twice, only to call it and arrange to retrieve it from a good Samaritan. So I grabbed the phone and continued on to my CTA stop.

As soon as I got home and changed out of my sopping wet clothes, I scrolled through the phone's address book. None of the numbers were labeled "home" or "ICE," so I clicked on "Mom & Dad" and hit connect.

The next 10 minutes were excruciating as the woman who answered the phone seemed to think it was her own phone that had gone missing. I said, "But this phone has your number listed as Mom & Dad--do you maybe have a child who might have lost a phone?" She continued to mutter about how in the world her phone could have ended up downtown, and she seemed absolutely baffled by my description of the phone and the carrier (Verizon).

But she insisted it was hers and said she'd send her husband to pick it up. I spent a few minutes trying to give her my work address, but she either couldn't hear well or was too flustered to understand a word I was saying. With Josh yelling that dinner was ready and Z clamoring to play with the phone herself, I finally got her husband on the phone and said, "I work at the Apparel Center. 11th floor." I gave the name of my company and said "Ask the receptionist for Alma. If you have any difficulties, call your lost phone and I'll answer."

I had serious doubts about either of them really coming to claim the phone when, about 20 minutes later, the found phone rang. I answered it and heard, "Linda?"

"I'm not Linda," I said. "I found this phone today and I'm trying to locate its owner."

"This is the woman you called earlier...I figured out that you found my daughter's cell phone. She lives downtown. We'll still come pick it up tomorrow at your office."

Now, I'm glad to be repaying the good lost cell phone karma I've benefited from in the past, but how can these people be so completely, frustratingly clueless? Are they old, doddering fools? Did she think I was some kind of criminal trying to scam her? I'd like to think that if someone called my mom at home and said, "Hey, I found this cell phone and you're number was programmed in as 'Mom,'" she'd figure out pretty quick that I (or perhaps my sister) lost my phone. And she'd give the caller an alternate number for me or call me and tell me to call my phone, it had been found.

To be continued tomorrow...

No hablo

I don't speak a lick of Spanish. I stupidly took French and German classes in high school and college, and I really, really regret not learning the number two language of our nation.

My regret deepened this morning as I dropped of Z. As predicted, her beloved Adriana gave birth on December 26th, and since she reopened her day care on January 2nd, she's been relying on her mother to fill in a great deal. Which means that the two women in charge of the kids probably know 20 words of English between them.

More importantly, Z is not about to accept Adriana's mom as an Adriana replacement, and Z clung desperately to me the minute we arrived. Adriana's mother, whom I think is named Ramona (pronounced "Ya-Mona"), asked Z a series of long, complicated-sounding questions in Spanish as she whimpered against me. And to each one, Z said "No" and buried her head in my lap. Finally, I mentioned Adriana and Baby Adrian and Ramona asked Z if she'd like to go up for a visit. (I'm guessing here, because I couldn't understand a word outside of the names and "tu.") Z raised her arms to Ramona to be picked up and they headed upstairs without protest.

I'm so glad Z understands Spanish, and I hope she doesn't lose it when she enters preschool. I do plan to enroll her in a Spanish immersion program at our local elementary school when the time comes.

Baby does doppler

I had my midwife appointment last night, and while they kept me waiting for over an hour, I forgave them the minute Gayle handed Z the doppler machine and invited her to "help find the baby's heartbeat."

Due to the extremely unskilled technician (aka my 2 year old), it took a few seconds to locate the heartbeat. But it was strong and loud.

This is news?

Apparently Pennsylvania governor Ed Rendell made a run for the border with the CEO of Taco Bell at a Philadelphia area fast food restaurant, thus reinforcing that the food is "safe to eat." I don't know who the PR agency is for Yum! Brands, but this takes the cake.

Go Wal-Mart

When a company as big, powerful and successful as Wal-Mart gets behind something, you know it's going to move the needle. So more power to them as they push Americans to adopt compact florescent light bulbs.

We're committed to the bulbs, and we've been swapping them into our light fixtures as the old-fashioned kind burn out.

It's official: I'm knocked up!

We're 12 weeks along and I just told my boss at work, so it's time to broadcast the happy news to the world. Baby #2 is due in mid-July! I couldn't be happier or more terrified of the sleepless nights to come.

I'll post belly pics and ultrasounds in the near future. And I've got an appointment with my midwife this evening, so here's to hoping the heartbeat is loud and strong.

Food

I've avoided blogging about Z's eating habits largely because I've made a conscious decision not to make food an issue with her. She ate everything I put in front of her from 6 months to a year of age, but since she turned one she's the Arbitrary Princess of Picky...at least with us. She's slightly less particular at day care, but even Adriana can't get her to eat fruit.

Yes, you heard that right. My toddler refuses to eat fresh or canned fruit. Only dried or dehydrated fruit will do. And bananas, rarely, or applesauce, if she's in the right mood. Vegetables are allowable, but only in soup or hidden in sauces. And usually only in Adriana's food, but corn and ketchup are always acceptable. She likes cheese, but only if it is yellow and cut up. Unless it is a free sample from Whole Foods, in which case anything goes.

But here's the rub, and the reason I try not to get too bent out of shape about my daughter's diet. The foods she'll always eat aren't all that bad for her. She requests Weetabix and warm Grape-Nuts by name, gobbles peanut butter by the spoonful, and snacks on peanut butter and jam or honey sandwiches on whole wheat bread. She loves spaghetti, lasagna, pizza, bagels, and macaroni and cheese. And less you think she only eats carbs, get this: she eats hummus straight up. No cracker or pita required.

So that's the good news. Here's the bad news. Z thinks she's entitled to a snack every time she's in her car seat or the stroller. And dry Cheerios will no longer do. "I want sumpin' else," she says. She usually demands "a bar" (meaning a cereal bar), and while they aren't entirely nutritionally void, they're pretty close to junk in my book. So we're working on reducing our on-the-go snacking along with getting her back on Dr. Weissbluth's sleep schedule.

I tell myself she won't starve, but I was reminded again today how slim she really is. Both my neighbor's 14-month old and my friend's 6-month old boy weigh the same as Z.

Homemade marshmallows

Yeah, it sounds crazy. And it is a bit of a sticky mess, but I was so inspired by this posting on Slashfood that I whipped up a batch of homemade marshmallows, which I'm sharing with friends.

And yes, they are that good.

Happy New Year

Wishing all my readers a safe and happy New Year. We rang in 2007 12 hours early with a playgroup New Year's Brunch and a countdown to noon. Check out the pictures from today and our travels earlier this week here.

We're back

It wasn't quite a vacation, but our trip back East to visit friends and family was pretty successful. We're exhausted, yes, but it was nice to catch up in person with so many of our favorite people. And seeing our daughter connect with her relatives is even more rewarding.

That said, I have a few resolutions for next time.

1) Naps are holy. Honor and keep them like an observant Jew on the Sabbath. If you push the nap too far, it won't happen at all and an over-tired child means a cranky parent. Did I mention Z took a nap only 2 days out of 6?
2) You can never pack enough snacks. Especially those "special treat" snacks that your toddler loves more than anything. A little fruit leather on the teeth is well worth the peace and quiet. Especially after you've listened to whining for an hour straight. And subjected strangers to it too.
3) Each parent deserves a little me-time. A break from all the jolly togetherness and chaos involved in organizing an outing for multiple generations. We didn't figure this out until the very end of our trip. I sent Josh off to the movies and he came back a much happier, more patient man. I'll be sure to squeeze in a massage or just some quiet time on the beach with a book during our upcoming vacation in Akumal.
4) Eat at least a couple pieces of fresh fruit every day. With travel and eating out, I sometimes find my diet becomes a little too carb, meat and sodium-heavy. I feel so much better when there's a bowl of fruit available for snacking.
5) And keep that portable DVD player charged!

More people!

We've packed the past couple of days with friends and relatives, and Z's continued to astonish us with her capacity for recalling people's names. We spent the 25th in Harrisburg with Josh's aunt and uncle. In addition to us and Josh's parents and sister, his cousin Penny was there with her husband and three kids (one 3 1/2 year old boy and twin 3 month old girls). It was a typical Jewish Christmas in that we ate Chinese takeout. Unfortunately we'd already had Chinese food the night before in a typical Jewish Christmas Eve.

On the 26th we took Amtrak from Wilmington to Union Station in D.C. Z loved the train--no surprise there, but I was disappointed that our "reserved coach seats" were essentially meaningless. We walked the length of the train looking for two seats together, but every seat we passed had someone stretched out asleep on it. We finally found empty seats in the quiet car, figuring that if the conductor tried to throw us out, we'd make him find us seats together.

Since arriving in D.C., we've visited with my Grandma Marge, Rick's daughters (my Mom's boyfriend's college-age daughters) and Josh's Grandpa Reuben as well as his Aunt Kathryn and Uncle Gary and their family. The latter we met (along with my in-laws) in a private party room at Maggiano's, the perfect location for lunch when the invitees include an untamed 2-year-old, a frail 94-year-old and an autistic 14-year-old.

Old friends

Well technically they're all Josh's old friends, but having known my husband's high school buddies for about 10 years myself, I'm honored to call them my old friends as well.

We started this morning with a brief tour of the model trains at the Brandywine River Museum. Then Josh, Z and I headed into Center City to have lunch with his high school friend Erica, her husband and their adorable 1 1/2 year old daughter (and they've got another one on the way). Z was delighted to get to play with someone her own size, and she wasted no time helping herself to Adair's toy collection and sippy cups.

We headed back to West Chester for a late nap, which I took--even if Z didn't. And shortly after I woke up, Beth and twin brothers Courtney and Brandon dropped by. In spite of having plowed through two days without an afternoon nap, Z was in fine form, performing all of her tricks and generally charming the crowd. She hadn't seen Beth for about a year, but she instantly reconnected with her very first babysitter.

West Chester

We arrived safe and mostly sane in Philadelphia around 5:30pm today. Z never did take her nap, so it wasn't too hard to put her to bed once we finally got to my in-laws and had dinner. The Philadelphia airport was an absolute zoo. I don't think we've ever had to wait so long to retreive our luggage--at least from a domestic flight!

The quote of the trip: I had taken Z to the ladies' room at Midway Airport for a pre-flight diaper change. As I was packing up the bag, I set her down on the floor next to me. She turned right around and peered through the cracks in the bathroom stalls and shouts, "I see a lady peeing!"

I told her it wasn't polite to look and when the woman came out she said to my curious kid, "You're totally busted." Thank goodness she was a mother herself.

Planes, trains and automobiles

And a 2 year old. That part makes it extra fun. I've spent the last couple of days weighing the must-brings against the nice-to-haves and the maybe-we'll-miss-it-but-it-just-won't-fits. It's easy to pack for a newborn. A couple of tiny sleepers, a handful of tiny diapers and my boobs, which I'd be hard pressed to forget. Maybe a sling or Baby Bjorn so I can keep my hands free for magazines or a smoothie.

With a toddler, the clothes are bigger, the diapers are bigger and the snacks and sippy cups could fill a carry-on. Plus there's the enormous car seat, the baby backpack or stroller and the toddler entertainment: crayons, stickers and paper. Books. And the portable DVD player, which is worth every penny and ever moment of guilt I've spent on it.

And because hope springs eternal, Josh and I pack books and magazines for ourselves. Hahahah.

But in spite of the controlled chaos that is air travel with a 2 year old, I'm looking forward to this trip. We're going to see four generations of relatives and meet Josh's cousins' kids and my Mom's boyfriend's daughters for the first time.

Eleanor, this is for you

Why every parent should blog. I'm giving you until mid-May.

Instant commercial, just add water

Dove just launched a promotion inviting consumers (women, presumably) to create a commercial for Dove Cream Oil Body Wash...an ad that could run on the Oscars broadcast. They've provided an iMovie-like video editing program complete with stock photos, stock videos and stock music. And they're open to you uploading and using your own original music, video, photos and voice-overs.

Seems like a really fun--if time-consuming project. I wonder how many consumers will take the time and effort required to participate. I'm consider doing it myself, but as an Oglivy/OgilvyAction employee, I'm not eligible.

From the mouth of a babe

Notable quotables from 25-month-old Z:

"I don't wanna share my book. Because it's mine."
[After wiggling her plastic ladybug at me] "Don't be scared, Mama. It's just a ladybug."
"I want Weetabix wif peanut butter an' milk. Just like Mama."
"I want Grape-Nuts. Not hot. Warm."
[In the bathtub] "I'm a dolphin! I'm swimming around in da sea. I'm in da aquarium. I'm a man!"
[Shouted through a funnel, megaphone-style] "Don' touch Dada! Don' touch Dada! Don'! Touch! Dada!...Don' touch da candles!"
[To Daddy, while wriggling half-naked on the living room carpet] "I'm rolling around on the floor, Dada! Mama upstairs gonna get me a diaper... I need a wipe too, Mama!"
[After having a taste of Dijon chicken and spitting it out on my lap] "It's not yummy. It's yucky!"
[As Z and I were leaving for daycare this morning] "Bye-bye Dada! I wuv you! Don't come wif us Dada! Say home! Don't come outside wif us!"

And finally, her favorite phrase of all...delivered with a sneaky, naughty look:

"I wanna see it. Show me his belly button!"

How popular is your birthday?

The NY Times story To-Do List: Wrap Gifts. Have Baby. is particularly topical given that Z's daycare provider will be induced on Friday. She's due next week, but her doctor doesn't want her giving birth on Christmas, when fewer doctors and staff will be around. I thought it was interesting that births spike around (but not on) major holidays and that a statistically significant proportion of babies arrive before the New Year, particularly among those upper income parents who best stand to benefit from an income tax break baby.

There's also a sidebar where you can see how your birthday and your children's birthdays stack up in terms of popularity. Lots of June, July and (most strikingly) September babies. I guess the cold weather and holiday merry-making put couples in a family way.

Here's why quotes don't work

I saw what I think was a Honda Element branded with Supermaid Cleaning Service today. The slogan on the side read "A more 'personal' kind of house cleaning." Now, maybe my mind's in the gutter, but when I see a word like "personal" called out in quotes, I start wondering if perhaps the Supermaid employees clean in the nude.

Judging from their website, I don't think the emphasis on personal was intentional.

SNL's Christmas Box

I know, I'm the last person on Earth to see this video. But the combination of JT and actual humor on SNL made my day.

Yummy Mummy?

If there was ever a trend I felt ambivalent about, it's this one. Chick lit gets married, knocked up and turns into Bugaboo-pushing Mom lit. I can see it now, pink book jackets with stilettos and strollers, Prada and pacifiers.

Yeah, I'm the basically the target (if a little younger and poorer than the late-30s lawyer-turned-SAHM with a preschool admissions complex), but I find something so icky about a bunch of publishers chasing a trend and a bunch of author-mommies cranking out cliched manuscripts while their beloved babies nap.

But here's where my ambivalence crops up again. Women have written about motherhood for generations. I loved Toni Morrison's Beloved and I click over to Dooce.com daily. Motherhood is a shared experience and rich territory for writing. What I don't like is the entitled, spoiled-brat tone Mom lit owes to its chick lit predecessor.

Happy Chanukah!

We hosted our Chavurah Chanukah party yesterday in the Temple youth lounge (read: basement). It was perfect for the event since the kids had lots of room to run around and plenty of communal toys to play with. And there was a kitchen, so we could keep the piles and piles of latkes warm.

We're lucky to have found such a great group of people within our congregation. And Z's perfectly positioned among the kids. There are four children older than her, one the same age, and five younger (including two 6 month old boys born on the same day!).

The Office

The best part of last night's hour-long episode of The Office (titled "A Benihana Christmas")? When tool Andy orders a "Nagasaki" at Benihana...an eggnog and saki cocktail. I almost wet myself.

My baby's not alone

"More Americans were born in 2004 than in any years except 1960 and 1990." This fact and many more are summarized in this NY Times article on the Census Bureau's 2007 Statistical Abstract of the United States.

Angel baby returns

Z put up 10 minutes of fuss before retiring last night, but she slept solidly from 7:45pm to 6:00am. And she didn't wake me and Josh up until 6:20, opting to play with her aquarium (which, by the way, she has loved since she was 2 months old). When she finally shouted "Ma-Ma!" it was because, "I went poopy in my diaper. Poopy and pee-pee."

Hallelujah!

I deserve a sleep refund

Last night was one of those nights. You know, one of those nights you think you're done with when your kid turns 6 or 7 months old and you've read Dr. Weissbluth cover to cover and done the sleep training thing and--by G-d--it worked?!?

Yeah? Well, last night our angelic 25 month old channeled her inner 2 month old, waking up every hour or so. Only, instead of whimpering for boobie, she would call out--in clear, increasingly loud tones, "Mommy! Ma-Ma! Ma-Maaaaaaaa! I wanna cuddle in the chair with Ma-Ma! I wanna cuddle in the dark! Da-Da! Daddymommy! Mommmmmeeeeeee!"

Overcome with exhaustion by 4:30am, I gave in and brought her to our bed, first eliciting a promise that she would "sleep quietly with no talking." A promise so quickly broken. I was poked and prodded. My hair was pulled and twisted. My pillow was stolen and returned damp with drool.

And then the cat went apeshit, tearing around the bedroom like there was a bonafide mouse in the house (which there wasn't). And so went any lingering hopes of getting Z to sleep. Josh was an angel, though. He took Z downstairs for some early morning PBS Kids so that I could sleep from 5:30 to 6:20.

Lucky Adriana. I'm sure Z will be a real treat at day care this morning.

Babble delivers

I'm happy to report that the new web journal for parents Babble is as good as I'd hoped. It's intelligently written, insightful and frequently funny. And it's really content-heavy; there's a ton to read. For starters, check out their essay on The Breastfeeding Conspiracy. It's a balanced piece by a mom who, like me, breastfed for a year, but still understands that the Boob Nazis from La Leche League need to be taken to task for guilt-tripping women for whom breastfeeding is impossible, physically or emotionally.

Babble's Health & Development section summarizes all of the experts on every imaginable topic, including hot button topics like cloth vs. disposable diapers, tummy vs. back sleeping and natural vs. epidural childbirth, and cleverly charts on a continuum from one extreme to the other.

For my sisters

At the risk of turning this blog into the all-cheese-all-the-time diary, I have to mention that my sister Eleanor and sister-in-law Bethany share my love for a good bowl of macaroni and cheese . And with Eleanor in Australia and Bethany in England, I'm afraid their access to Annie's Homegrown Shells & Cheese (not to mention my homemade stuff) is severely limited. So for them, I present the UK's foremost macaroni and cheese review blog.

Babble is one day away

I've got high hopes for Babble, a new online magazine for parents that launches tomorrow. It's from the people behind Nerve, the sex and culture magazine that arrived to much hoopla a few years ago. Anyway, I guess all that sex talk did the trick, because now all the Nerve editors are blessed with babies. Anyway, they're promising an antidote to the all-pastel, moms-only, too-serious word of parenting pubs.

More cheese, please

Years and years ago, when I was a vegetarian, I would hear from pro-vegan/vegetarian sources that adult humans weren't meant to drink milk. I've always had a weak spot for cheese and dairy products in general, so this kind of convention wisdom made me feel guilty for diverting some poor calf's sole form of nourishment into cottage cheese, yogurt and brie.

But now I don't have so guilty. The NY Times has an interesting article on how four different human groups independently evolved the ability to digest milk. Swedes and the Dutch are uniformly lactose tolerant, but the new news is the discovery of pastoral groups in Africa who also developed lactose tolerance.

"Genetic evidence shows that the mutations conferred an enormous selective advantage on their owners, enabling them to leave almost 10 times as many descendants as people without them...The survival advantage was so powerful perhaps because those with the mutations not only gained extra energy from lactose but also, in drought conditions, would have benefited from the water in milk."

Happy 59th Birthday, Mom

We knew Rick was showing you a good time in Gettysburg, so we helped celebrate Ania's 3rd birthday here in Oak Park. Click here to see a few photos from the party.

No more cheese

I didn't think I'd ever hear myself uttering those words, but I just might have had my fill of cheese today. You see, one of my clients is a major cheese brand and today I attended a four hour long cheese tasting.

We started with a blind taste test of the major players in the natural cheddar cheese category. I discovered that I'm a big fan of Cabot, Tillamook and Cracker Barrel, but Cabot Extra Sharp Cheddar is my absolute favorite. And store brand cheese? Pretty uniformly terrible.

I learned that East Coasters tend to prefer white cheddars, but Midwesterners and Left Coasters like their cheese yellow. I also found out that, outside of the Pacific Northwest where everyone grows up eating Tillamook, it is a very polarizing cheese Those of us who ranked it high loved it and those who didn't rank it in the top three thought it was among the worst we'd sampled.

After we'd consumed 15 pieces of cheese, we moved to the test kitchens to prepare a variety of foods with a variety of cheese brands. My partner and I were responsible for making a pizza and a traditional homemade macaroni and cheese. Other teams made equally cheesy dishes like lasagne and enchiladas. All of the dishes were made three different ways--with three different brands of cheese. So we tasted and evaluated a lot of food, and after seeing how the different types of cheese worked in cooked dishes, I was able to conclude that while the brand makes less difference in dishes than it does straight up, it is important to choose a sharp cheese for cooking since the flavors get muted. And you really sacrifice a lot when you use pre-shredded cheese since the anti-caking agent keeps the cheese from melting as nicely.

Mystery package from MOMA

A toy from MOMA arrived in the mail for Z yesterday, and the card enclosed doesn't say who sent it. If you're reading this, please let me know who you are! (We're keeping the gift hidden until one of the eight nights of Chanukah.)

Baby it's cold outside

5 degrees this morning. Brr!

What it's like to "go on Oprah"

I promised a full recap of my Tuesday morning on The Oprah Winfrey Show, and here it is.

First, the tickets. For about the past year, I've been periodically checking the last minute tickets section of the Oprah website. It it used to fill out audiences, the topics never interested me. It was always "Do you have a diet question for Dr. Greene?" "Do you have the ugliest room in America?" or "Do you have a teen daughter who is out of control?"

Then, early last week, Oprah producers were looking for people who had seen An Inconvenient Truth and had a question for Al Gore. I wrote in and got a call from a producer the very next morning!

Fast forward a week to Tuesday. Gloria picked me up at 6:45am and we drove to Harpo Studios in the West Loop. Parking across the street is a steep $20, but there isn't really any alternative. We join the line outside the building a few minutes after 7am, and, in spite of the tent protection, it is bone-chillingly cold. The two groups in front of us in line don't strike us as looking particularly eco-friendly, and indeed, when one of them turns around to ask us if we know the show's topic, they roll their eyes and groan at the mention of global warming.

We make it inside the building around 7:45, but there is still bag check, ID check, metal detectors and purse inspections to make it through. We'd been warned to downsize our bags and leave cell phones in the car, but it seemed most of the audience members there had not. There was an organized system for checking big bags and electronic items, leaving the average Oprah fan with three different claim tickets.

From there we could make a pit stop and Gloria noted that there were two women's rooms and one men's. Apt, given the gender breakdown.

That done, we were ushered upstairs to a giant waiting room that resembled nothing so much as a bus or train terminal. It was about 8:15am and all of the 250-odd seats were taken, and one of the ushers directed us into one of the standing room only lines. But we'd only been standing long enough to fill out our release forms before my name was called out over the loudspeaker. We joined about 10 other women who had e-mailed in questions for Al Gore, and we were "randomly assigned" seats in the studio. We ended up about halfway up the center right risers.

Oprah's studio seemed smaller in person that I had imagined it. It is immaculately clean, and the metallic accents, together with all the bright lighting, make it a warm, cheerful place. Producers ushered the rest of the audience in, occasionally giving priority seats to groups with the "best colors" on their clothing.

By 8:40 the entire audience was seated and the producers warmed us up a bit, coaching us to be ready to say "awww" when something was cute or gasp at awful truths. Oprah made her appearance while a producer was talking, so there was no grand entrance. She joked around with the audience for the final 10 minutes before the show was to go live, complaining that she was bloated from her breakfast of Shredded Wheat and mouthing the bad words we're not allowed to say on live TV.

I don't need to go into the actual show, since it was taped live for TV. Nothing was edited out and there weren't any re-takes. Oprah only invited one audience question, and that was at the very end (and not from a pre-seeded plant like myself).

As I mentioned before, I got to ask Al Gore my question during the after show, and I should be able to find out on Saturday whether I made it to TV.

The aftershow was over around 10:40am, and we were able to claim our coats fairly quickly. Everyone in the audience received a free copy of the DVD and I was at work by 11am.

Personally, I'd rather have water

Here's a great map that shows what folks across the country are calling their carbonated beverages. I grew up with my folks referencing "pop" while all my friends and neighbors guzzled soda.

Totally schticky

Check out GIANT Magazine's collection of the best commercials of the 1980's. I suspect by "best" they mean the best of what they could find on YouTube, but it's a riveting assembly of bad taste and memories.

I neutralized our new car

For a little more than the cost of a tank of gas I neutralized the CO2 emissions of our 2005 Honda CR-V. It's so easy. Please do the same.

More global warming news

The reports keep coming in. Now EU scientists are releasing a study showing that the Alps are experiencing record warmth--the hottest temperatures in 1300 years.

Let's not inconvenience Big Oil

Much of Al Gore's presentation on today's Oprah Winfrey show was a retread of the information on An Inconvenient Truth, but there was one tidbit he shared that really struck home with me. An older woman stood up during the after show discussion to say that she thought schoolchildren should see the movie and become a force for changing their parents--much as they helped propel the anti-smoking movement. Al Gore agreed wholeheartedly but pointed out that the National Science Teachers Foundation had just turned down 50,000 free copies of the DVD Paramount was making available to them as teaching tools. Their reason? Accepting the DVDs, would place "unnecessary risk upon the (NSTA) capital campaign, especially certain targeted supporters." Supporters, it turns out, that include Exxon Mobil.

Oprah, the quick recap

In spite of how much getting into the Oprah studio resembles getting onto an airplane (lots of lines, tickets, security, bag checks and waiting), Gloria and I had a great time attending today's live show. Oprah only let the audience ask one question during the main show, but she called on me in particular ("Is Alma Klein here?") during the after show, which airs on Oxygen. If anyone can Tivo it or download the show off the internet somewhere, I'll post a clip of myself.

Just like Mommy and Daddy

This morning as I was packing my lunch for work, Z said "I need a cook too. I need a get a recipe from da cook book!" She grabbed an issue of Cook's Illustrated from the shelf, opened it to a recipe page and proceeded to busy herself in her toy kitchen. There was a great deal of bustling over the stove with pots and pans, faux vegetables, empty spice containers and a wooden spoon. She would run back and forth "checking" the cookbook and updating me on her progress. "I'm making pancakes and eggs. I need sugar, milk, broccoli and pizza! It's for you Mommy. Be very careful. It's hot hot hot!"

Z's budding sense of humor

It started when I was reading her first word books and misidentifying the pictures. I'd point to a chair and say, "That's an elephant" or "Elbow." And Z would look at me like I was insane and go, "No, dat's not Cookie Monster. Dat's a little girl!" But she quickly caught on that we were playing a game, and now she mislabels pictures herself and looks expectantly at me to laugh and correct her. She also thinks it's hysterical when I get the names of her body parts wrong or when I suggest we put her shirt on her legs, her diaper on her head or her hat on her belly button.

Tune in tomorrow

Don’t forget to watch Oprah tomorrow, when yours truly will be in the audience. The show is Global Warming 101 with Al Gore, and it will be broadcast live in Chicago at 9am. If you live elsewhere, check your local listings. I can't wait!

How to host a surprise party

Lessons from our good friend Andy, who successfully surprised his wife with a 40th birthday party to remember.
1. Throw the party three weeks before the actual birthday to throw off the scent.
2. If she's not a bowler, throwing it at bowling alley shouldn't raise any red flags.
2. Come up with a reasonable alibi for the evening--one good enough to warrant hiring a sitter for your new baby. In this case Andy told Deb it was a birthday party for a one of his friends' wives. Deb wasn't totally convinced it was a sitter-worthy event, but she needed a break and hired one without too much proding. She even brought a gift for the supposed birthday girl.
3. Get help. Andy co-hosted the party with his in-laws, and between the two of them they were able to track down and invite a wide variety of friends. I ended up bowling with a former co-worker of Deb's who has known her for 15 years!

Watching Deb's face as she realized what was going on -- and who was there -- was wonderful. She was obviously floored by her husband's efforts. Even her in-laws flew in!

And the party was a lot of fun even for those of us who weren't "bowled over" by the surprise...or our bowling scores. Well worth the cost of a sitter (hi Julia).

Got smell-o-vision?

The California Milk Processors are experimenting with a new scent strip technology that lets them bring the scent of freshly-baked chocolate chip cookies into bus shelters, apparently in the hope that smelling the cookies will trigger a thirst for milk. If this works out, I think we can look anticipate more companies jumping on the fragrance bandwagon...which, BTW is already filling up with car dealerships, hotel chains and retail stores who've discovered how to manipulate us through our sense of smell.

Personally, I'm all for it. Chocolate chip cookies beat piss and B.O. any day of the week.

Snow day

We awoke to about 5 inches of white stuff--less that predicted, but more than enough to get Z demanding (at 7:20am) "I wanna go outside in da backyard an' make a snowman! With a carrot nose!" I told her that it wasn't time to go outside yet, that at the very least we'd need to wait until Daddy got out of the shower. And anyway, Z would need to be wearing clothes and a snowsuit!

"No clothes! No clothes! I don' wanna get dressed!" she tantrumed, erupting into tears. As I tried to wrangle her toward a pair of pants, she ran away from me and continued her "no clothes" tirade. I gave her a brief time-out for being uncooperative, but I was a little blown away by how much of an impression 30 seconds on the stool made in her mind. As we headed upstairs for a diaper change and dressing, she said, "I cry for Mama on the time-out."

"Why did Mama give you a time-out?" I asked

"No clothes," Z replied. And with that, she let me change and dress her without complaint. Although she did ask that I put her shirt on over her feet and legs. We're still working on how "pants go over your toes and shirts go over your nose."

Dining room art show

Z's been enthusiastically creating works of art with stickers, markers, crayons and paint, and I've been looking for a tidy way of displaying a rotating collection of her work (you know, one that doesn't involve gobs of Scotch tape on my dining room walls). I think I may have found it with this solution from Pottery Barn Kids. I wonder if it's an online exclusive or whether it might be available in store (so I can save on shipping).

Link of the day

If you aren't already familiar with it, click on over to Thingamababy, a delightful toddler product review blog. The daddy in charge writes great toy reviews (largely based on his 2 1/2 year old daughter's interactions) and has recommended some of the better toys and books I've seen out there. In fact, he's responsible for Z's first magazine subscription (to the National Wildlife Foundation's Wild Animal Baby)! His blog is popular and influential enough that manufacturers are sending him free samples of their toys to review, but he seems to be maintaining his critical distance and isn't afraid to mock the stupid, the dangerous and those toys that limit imaginative play.

Even more on word of mouth

The NY Times profiles word of mouth research firm Keller Fay (the principals of which I met at a WOMMA conference) and offers some interesting tidbits on exactly how much each of us talk about brands in our regular, face-to-face conversations.

I'm going to be on Oprah!

Al Gore will be on the show discussing An Inconvenient Truth, and it will be broadcast live in Chicago at 9am next Tuesday. I found about about the show at Oprah.com, and I wrote in about my passion for the movie and the global warming cause as well as the questions I'd like to ask of Al Gore. They called me today to invite me to participate. Which means Gloria and I will be at Harpo Studios at 7am in less than a week. Gulp!

P.S. Anyone remember this post? I guess it pays to write down your goals.

Word of mouth at work

Anyone who works with me knows I've got a bit of passion for word of mouth marketing. I've learned a lot about the field from the WOMMA conferences I've attended, and just last week I presented an overview to interested folks at the agency.

So it's a happy coincidence that I've got a personal plug for the power of word of mouth today. You see, I recently signed up to be an Angie's List member, and I used the recommendations of other members to select a contractor to up the insulation in our 1910 frame house. I picked the top two companies and both came out to do estimates. Their prices were close, but I went with the more expensive company because I thought they were slightly more thorough and they suggested bringing our attic R-number up the recommended level for our region. I mailed in my 25% deposit on Friday and they called on Monday to ask if they could install at 12:30 Tuesday. They arrived at 12. I haven't seen the work myself since Josh is at home, but all signs point to an efficient operation. I'll do my duty and add my feedback to the Angie's List site.

Wouldn't it be great if there were word of mouth forums for everything we ask our friends, neighbors and co-workers about? A convenient, comprehensive resource for researching preschools, day care providers, doctors, hospitals, retirement communities and more? I suppose it's just a matter of time. We can access product reviews on most e-commerce sites and peruse vacations from heaven and hell at TripAdvisor, but I'm more emotionally and physically invested in the quality of a medical specialist than I am in an digital camera.

Thanksgiving photos are up

I've posted a handful of pictures from Thanksgiving weekend.

Furry bedfellows

I was putting Z to bed tonight, and I asked if she needed any animals. She said no. I asked if she wanted her blanket. "Yes, please."
I opened the door to leave and she whimpered, "I need an animal." So I offered her a dog. "No, I don't want a dog!" A sheep? "No! No sheep!" A different dog? "No!" Stumpy giraffe? Musical giraffe? Other sheep? "No, no, no!" Her dragon, like Ben from It's Bedtime?
"No! Take him away! I want my teddy. My small teddy."
Uh-oh. I'd emptied out her toy basket looking for acceptable animals, and I hadn't seen her favorite teddy. "I don't know, Z. I don't see your small teddy here," I said.
"It's downstairs," she replied.
I raced down the stairs and saw her small white teddy on the living room floor. Crisis averted.

Four under three

One of Josh's oldest friends and his wife have a little boy Z's age. We just found out last night they're expecting again. Only this time it's triplets. And no fertility treatments, spontaneous triplets. I can't even imagine.

Unschooling in the news

The NY Times profiles proponents of unschooling, a child-led homeschooling movement that's catching on in the Midwest, particularly in Chicago. I first heard of unschooling a little less than a year ago when I sold a Japanese-style baby carrier on Craigslist. It was a beautiful piece of baby gear, but one Z refused to be carried in and which was, frankly, a pain to use anyway.

The woman who answered my ad asked if I was, by any chance, the same Alma who once worked at Newcity. Turns out she was someone I'd hired to be Newcity's receptionist six years prior. She was three months pregnant with her new boyfriend's baby at the time, and she never came back to work after giving birth.

Fast forward to the present and she was living in Oak Park with her husband (same guy), their six year old and a one year old girl in need of a new carrier. We hung out in my living room for about an hour catching up, and it came out that she belonged to a group of parents who believe letting kids follow their interests beats the structure and pressure of regular schools.

Sounds nice in the abstract, but if I only studied what I wanted to, I might have spent my elementary school years doing nothing but reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books and learning the names of poisonous snakes. I might have figured out fractions while baking, but I definitely wouldn't have learned my multiplication tables or long division.

What's more, for the most part I loved school. And I'm pretty sure Z will too. She's already started asking to go.

Holiday weekend update

This may be the longest I've gone without updating my blog, but I've been pretty much offline since Wednesday morning. Thanksgiving dinner was delicious, and Z loved having her "Gamangampa" here. In addition to showering her with attention, they bought her a fabulous farm from Geppetto's Toybox in Downtown Oak Park. It's from a company called Danny First Toys. Their playsets are a refreshing alternative to Dora and Little People--no hard plastic pieces to step on in the night and no battery powered sound effects.
I did my American consumerist duty and hit two stores mid-Black Friday morning with my M-I-L. I scored some deals, including a bunch of Z-friendly arts and craft supplies and a $10 pair of comfy pajamas for myself. Today we enjoyed the balmy weather at the Morton Arboretum Children's Garden, where Z partook in a children's nature walk that involved searching for stuffed animals in nature and determining if they survived winter by "snacking, napping, sleeping or flapping," and ended with free hot cocoa for the kids.

Hell hath no fury like a nursing mom scorned

I'm seeing a fair about of media coverage for Tuesday's nationwide "nurse-in" in support of Emily Gillette, who was removed from a Delta Airlines flight when she refused to cover her 1-year-old child with a blanket. Check out the articles in USA Today and the Chicago Tribune.

UPDATE: If you haven't already, please join me in signing this petition is favor of the Breastfeeding Promotion Act before Congress. Over 20,000 women have already signed on.

This makes me mad

Our dumb president has appointed right-wing idiot Eric Keroack to lead the nation's family-planning program. The Title X family-planning program has a federal mandate to provide information and access to birth control, pregnancy tests and counseling (but no abortions). Yet Keroack doesn't believe in birth control. The abstinence-only nutcase has previously served in organizations that spread misinformation about condom reliability and abortions, and he claims that premarital sex disrupts brain chemistry, creating a physiological barrier to happy marriage.

Will Times Square smell like piss again?

Hardly. Charmin's coming to the rescue of grande latte-drinking tourists by offering spotless bathrooms. I swear I pitched this very idea to a certain bathroom cleaner brand years ago. Anyway, they're getting lots of media pick up on it.

Tofurky

This post is for Eleanor, my once vegan-but-now-omnivorous sister. Slashfood has a fascinating review of the frequently (and apparently fairly) derided vegetarian Thanksgiving staple Tofurky. Seems Tofurky is pretty Tofunky.

I seem to recall Eleanor saying she made or ate Tofurky once or twice, but I also remember the more famous family story of the Thanksgiving she spent with Grandma Lorraine in Orange County. It seems the two of them decided Turkey Day would be a good day for craft shopping just over the border in Mexico. They'd packed sandwiches for the trip and a concerned woman took pity on them when she saw the two eating PBJs at a bus station on Thanksgiving. I think they were offered a turkey dinner at a local church.

Filling Mommy's Shoes

MVI_2252 on Vimeo

Countdown to Turkey Day

This was the last shopping weekend before Thanksgiving, and we are 80 percent prepared for our small feast. We'll be joined by my in-laws and hopefully new parents Stacie and Bob will let us bring over some food and pie. Here's the menu: Roast Turkey with Herb Butter (we're using an 11 pound organic bird), Mashed Sweet Potatoes, Cranberry and Dried Cherry Sauce, a tossed green salad, fresh-baked rolls or corn bread, and a stuffing recipe I adapted from a newspaper article a few years ago. Dessert will be Pumpkin Ginger Cheesecake and Pear Cherry Pie.

My Fruited Thanksgiving Stuffing

1/4 to 1/2 cup each prunes, raisins, dried peaches and dried cranberries, chopped
1 loaf sourdough bread, stale and cubed
1 cup chicken broth
dried onion (you could use fresh, but I'm not an onion lover)
2 stalks celery
1 apple, peeled and chopped
1/4 cup butter
garlic powder
salt and pepper

Saute onions and celery in butter 5 minutes. Add all fruit and cook until soft. Pour broth over bread, toss with fruit mixture and pour into a greased pan. Sprinkle with garlic powder, salt and pepper and bake for 45 minutes at 375 degrees.

Potty training update

Z had been resisting our suggestions to try using the potty, so we decided to give the whole issue a rest for a while. And low and behold, that (or possibly the Mr. Rogers Potty Book from the library) immediately reignited her interest in the subject. For the last two days, she's been asking both of us to take her to the potty and she's been pulling her pants down and helping us unfasten her diaper. She talks the talk and flushes with glee, but no production of numbers one or two. Yet.

Anyway, she amused herself (and me) for about 45 minutes this afternoon pottying her teddy bear. With Z's help, Teddy "used" the potty about 15 times, which was cute enough after I convinced her she could "pretend flush for pretend pee." But what really cracked me up was when she announced that "Teddy had a accident on the floor!" She'd grab a Kleenex and scrub the carpet with it while exclaiming over "Teddy's accident! I wipe up the mess! It's okay, Teddy!"

Welcome Charlie

My friends Stacie and Bob welcomed baby Charlie early Friday morning, making Z's buddy Annelise into a big sister. I had the pleasure of visiting the new addition this afternoon at West Sub, and both he and mom looked great.

Squeezing in a baby

The NY Times Home section includes a profile of a couple who modified their very compact 265 square foot apartment to make room for a new baby. The article includes some fabulously inventive design ideas, but no mention of what might happen when the newborn outgrows the basket bassinet, much less starts running around.

Peace, love and Gap

No red and green. No mistletoe or Christmas trees. Just Chicago native Common rapping about the spirit of the season...and doing a decent job of selling Gap hoodies. Nicely done commercial.

Flags of the world, with client comments

A consulting group came up with this funny slideshow that shows what might happen to various national flags if "client comments" were part of the equation.

I'm famous!

My day is made! A well-known business writer has blogged about my Equal packets (my idea AND my slogans for the Equal Campaign for Flavor) as the coolest sugar packets he's ever seen. What's more, I found his piece on my hero Seth Godin's blog!

Bookshelf

I just finished The Hummer and the Mini: Navigating the Contradictions of the New Trend Landscape, and I feel cheap and used. Did Robyn Waters write this easy-peasy book of off-the-cuff anecdotes on her BlackBerry while sitting through tedious marketing meetings?

Because she certainly didn't bother getting an editor or fact-checker to read over her work. In addition to an embarrassing number of typos, Ms. Waters claims the "technological revolution" that was The Polar Express took "an express ride to profits at the box office" (um, I think it had disappointing ticket sales and press). She also raves about how "consumers are flocking...[to] oxygen bars" (oxygen bars are the day before yesterday's news). And my favorite oopsie: saying McDonald's was "practically shamed into offering salads on their menu and removing the Big Gulp from their drink lineup by media attention on the childhood obesity epidemic and the fallout from the movie Supersize Me." Here's the deal Robyn: Big Gulp is a 7-11 trademark; McDonald's quit offering to supersize--get it, supersize me? It's in the movie's title!)

But as if her lazy fact-checking weren't bad enough, Robyn Waters has a grating habit of ending every one and a half page chapter with a cutesy zinger that "sells in" the brand innovation or trend. About a company that offers custom lip color: "The options have customers smacking their lips in satisfaction." About Cold Stone Creamery: "If you don't want to be left out in the cold, figure out how to give your customers what they want, their way."

The buzz on a new brew

I signed up with BzzAgent, a word of mouth marketing organization, a few months ago, largely because I was impressed with the presentations they'd made at the two WOMMA conferences I'd attended, but also because I like trying new products and I'm not shy about sharing my opinions.

Anyway, I didn't qualify for any campaigns for quite a while, but yesterday I received a free 1/2 pound of Storyville Coffee in the mail. Josh ground and brewed it in the Chemex this morning, and we found it to be a very good basic cup of coffee. A nutty and mild blend of beans from around the world, but not as interesting as the single origin coffees we've been enjoying from Intelligentsia. The beans were very fresh since it had only been days since they were roasted, and I think that most consumers will be impressed with the difference fresh roasted beans can make. But we're jaded. We've been using fresh coffee beans from the Intelligentsia roasting plant in Chicago for a year. And the price for Storyville is $16 a pound, $20 if you include shipping. A little too rich, if you ask me.

From the mouth of a babe

We were in the car driving to last night's Chavurah potluck when Z piped up with "Look at me! I'm a snowman! I'm a snowman!" And, indeed she was. Despite being strapped into her carseat, she'd placed her hat on her head and stuck her arms straight out to the sides in an irresistable ode to the season.

My 2-year-old on current events

Z saw this issue of the New Yorker and pointed to the man on the right, saying "He's mad." Then she pointed to George W. and said, "He made a mess. He's getting a time out."

After

Apparently somebody finally got the message. One week after I posted about the cell phone store with Verizon spelled "Varizon" on the front window sign, the sign came down. Now the sign is back up, with black tape not-so-artfully covering up the offending typo.

UPDATE on 11/15/06: The sign is down again!

Before

What I did on my lunch break

It is a stunningly beautiful day in Chicago. Temps in the 60s and unlimited sunshine. And since I didn't pack a lunch for the first time in weeks, I had the perfect excuse to get out of the office. I walked south on Wells to Hannah's Bretzel, which has been receiving raves since in opened. The line was short, and I had my Bretzel Sandwich with Bousin Herb Cheese and homemade black pepper and salt potato chips in no time. Hannah's is Chicago's first organic carry-out eatery, and reading the menu you can't help but notice that every meat and cheese is prefaced with the place where it was grown or produced. I'll be back for one of their more elaborate sandwiches in the future.

Interestingly enough, on the way to and from Hannah's, I passed two Subways (the sandwich shop, not the CTA) and two Dress Barns! Obviously Loop office workers have a pressing need for cheap rayon dresses and Jared's favorite food.

I also passed by a Lavazza coffee shop, and I was tempted to try the Espesso, a mousselike espresso sprayed straight from a can. It was just nominated by TIME magazine as one of the best inventions of 2006. I resisted the temptation, for now.

Hello 1979!

Not only does my little girl get handmade sweaters from her one and only Mommy, she gets to model sweaters hand-knit by her Grandma for her Aunt Bethany about 27 years ago!

Doctor says what?

We took Z to see Dr. Hutton last night for her 2 year physical. She passed with flying colors, naturally. She's up to 24.7 pounds, putting her in the 25th percentile for weight and the 10th percentile for height. Dr. Hutton praised her verbal skills and dropped a bombshell on us.

"I think she's ready for potty-training."

The good doctor advised picking a long weekend and putting the girl in cotton training pants (as opposed to the diaper-like Pull-Ups). She recommended feeding her bran muffins so she "can't hold back her stool" and lots of liquids ("Buy twistie straws, fun cups, whatever it takes."). She also said we could plan to spend "a lot of time in the kitchen" and that we should "make a really, really big deal if she can produce a few drops in the potty chair."

I'm thinking Thanksgiving weekend might be a good time to try, but Josh thinks that might be a damper--so to speak--on his parents' visit. I say that, with two doting grandparents in the house--grandparents who also happen to be pediatricians--the timing couldn't be better.

In the meantime, I let Adriana know this morning, and she's promised me Z will be accompanying the almost-3-year-old Lily to the potty all day. Plus, there will be a showing of "the potty video."

I'm also preparing a Target shopping list for Potty Weekend, whenever it should happen. I'm thinking plenty of training pants, a new cup or two, flushable wipes and a bag of M&Ms. If things go well I may have to add a travel potty since we'll have to leave the house eventually.

Hurray

I woke up this morning to find my faith in the political process and the American people partially restored. The Democrats swept Illinois and didn't do too shabby elsewhere. We've regained control of the House and Democratic control of the Senate isn't out of the question yet.

Now I can only hope our elected representatives take action on the issues I care about most: limiting greenhouse gas emissions and promoting renewable energy; repealing the No Child Left Behind Act; and withdrawing U.S. troops from Iraq. I'd also like to see the leadership take real, intelligent steps against terrorism rather than reactionary, pointless ones (e.g. banning water bottles and hand cream from airplanes).

I voted

None of the candidates I voted for were in much danger of losing since I live in a strongly Democratic district in a strongly Democratic state, but I felt good about voting in the referendums to pull out of Iraq, raise the minimum wage to $7.50 an hour and ban the assault weapons.

Also had a pleasant lunch with Josh today. He's reviewing coffee shops around the city for Time Out Chicago, and I got to weigh in on two of the top contenders in Pilsen. We shared a tasty chicken tamale and beef flautas as well as a mug of cafe con leche at the socialist/activist Cafe Mestizo, and followed that up with Mexican hot chocolate and an enormous peanut butter chocolate chip cookie at more traditional, welcoming Cafe Jumping Bean.

Work is quiet after the craziness of the last few days. Hopefully I'll be able to sneak out a few minutes early since Z's got her 2-year doctor's visit scheduled for this evening.

Birthday party report

Everyone in Z's playgroup came to her birthday party, and she had a wonderful time surrounded by her favorite people. I lined up all 8 kids on the couch for a photo only to misplace my camera at the crucial moment. I'm waiting for a friend to forward the snapshot, but in the meantime, here's a picture of Z "tending" to Julie's four month old son, Reid. Julie, knowing Z's reputation as the paci police, brought her a baby doll that cries until you pop in its pacifier. But Z preferred the real thing.

And as a side note, that's the green and yellow sweater I just finished in time for her birthday. It fits!

Importance of a 5-Point Harness Carseat

Wow. I'm working on a cause marketing plan for a major food company, and one of ideas I sold in was a contest inviting consumers to create their own PSA (public service announcement). And only days later I come across the most moving user-created PSA I've ever seen. Get the Kleenex ready.

Happy 2nd Birthday!

Dear Z,
You turn two tomorrow. You're not a baby. Well, you'll always be my baby, but you're barely a toddler anymore! You're a little girl. A running, dancing, galloping, hopping little girl who can speak in full sentences, sing a dozen nursery rhymes and count past 10. You can say your ABC's, drink out of a big girl cup and help take your clothes off. You can build a Lego tower 15 pieces high and help assemble a wooden train track. You're mastering more each day, "reading" me stories from your favorite library books and putting together puzzles. You can help in the kitchen and you love to play pretend, taking me on adventures "to the grocery store" and "to the library."

When you want something, you have an engaging way of asking for it. You cock your head to the right, raise your voice an octave and say, with rising intonation, "You wanna go to the park with me?" "You wanna a drink of my apple juice?" or "You want me brush your hair, make it pretty?" When you want other children to bend to your will, you'll occasionally treat them to the cocked-head question, more more likely you'll turn to the closest adult and say something like, "Leo wants water, Mommy. He wants me feed him water from his cup."

You still don't have lovey, instead giving affection to a rotating cast of dolls and stuffed animals. You play with all of your toys, but your vintage Little People house, Aquadoodle, markers and Play-Doh dominated this year.

Your Daddy's daughter, you absolutely love music, and you can identify "rock 'n roll," "pop," "lullaby," and "reggae" accurately. Today we took you to see Justin Roberts and the Not Ready for Naptime Players at a concert at FitzGerald's, and you've refused to listen to your nursery rhymes CD before today's nap or bedtime, instead demanding "Justin Roberts," which we don't yet own. I'll download some songs from iTunes tonight, I promise.

You're a social butterfly. You remember names better than either of your parents and you ask after your friends frequently. You like it when we tell you a story about one of your friends before bed.

Speaking of which...you're a decent sleeper, going to bed between 7:35 and 8pm and rising between 6 and 6:30am. You've only missed two or three afternoon naps this whole year. Usually you're down for two hours in the early afternoon.

Since you turned one, you quit eating fresh fruit. You'll only stand for dried fruit or applesauce. Bananas are the only exception to the rule. You like vegetables, particularly corn and french fries. For breakfast, you'll have milk, diluted OJ and frozen waffles or most any breakfast cereal, but Cracklin' Oat Bran and Weetabix are your favorites. You love spaghetti, mac and cheese, quesadillas, hot dogs, chicken, ketchup and lasagna. For snacks, you like yellow cheddar cheese, peanut butter off a spoon, cereal bars, animal crackers, dehydrated strawberries and dry cereal. Juice boxes have not ceased to thrill you with their unadulterated sweetness. And you'll never forget a business that hands you a lollipop.

You're not toilet trained, not even a little bit, but you can tell us what you're doing and when. And watching Mommy use the toilet, heck, that's even better than "Caillou!"

Z, you're the cat's pajamas. The cherry on my sundae. The reason I go to work every weekday and wake up early every weekend morning.

Yes, it really is like that

AdVerbatims, a new website I came across thanks to AdFreak, is collecting actual moronic quotes from real agency life. It's kind of like Overheard in the Office, only it hits so much closer to home. My favorites:


#143- "Quit asking smart questions and just do what the client says."
(Agency, Account Executive to Copywriter, discussing idiotic changes to an ad)

#196- "We should not aim to be conceptual or creative."
(Agency, Account Executive on the brief)

#145- "We are a small company. If we were a big company we would worry about what is best for the brand. Since we are small, we need to worry about the budget."
(Client, Marketing Manager)

#153- "I like it, but I just don't think a multinational company should be doing ads in felt tip."
(Client, on first presentation of a line drawing concept scamp)

Borat

I wish my Dad was still around to see Borat.

The former DCM to Uzbekistan, he was very familiar with the swarthy, leather jacketed, mustachioed men of Central Asia in the late 1990s. And his diplomatic side was tempered with a healthy respect for the politically incorrect. He'd appreciate the cheap shots at Kazakhstan as well as the statement Sasha Baron Cohen is ultimately making about globally-ignorant Americans.

I can't wait to see the movie myself.

This is scary

Scientists are predicting that, in just 50 years, there will be virtually nothing left to fish in our oceans. And what are we doing about it? Not a damn thing.

Slate Green Challenge

My family's annual carbon emissions are 24,705 lbs, the equivalent of 2.43 passenger cars. That's a little over half of the U.S. average of 44,312 lbs. What's yours? Find out at Slate Green Challenge and see what you can do to lower your output. (Thanks Eleanor for sending. I expect you to be the first to comment!)

Seeing pink and blue

Mazel tov to my little sister Eleanor and her husband Simon -- they're expecting a baby in June! I'm going to be an aunt! Yipee!

Eleanor and Simon will make great parents. But I wouldn't be a big sister if I didn't start in with a few pieces of advice--for her and any first-time mother.

1. Buy an electric breast pump and plenty of disposable milk bags. Lansinoh makes the best ones. If you're going to pump a lot, get a hands-free halter.
2. Accept any and all offers of help for the first month. You'll want to hold your baby at all times, so let someone else cook, clean and shop.
3. Don't worry about putting baby on a schedule for the first two months. Take him with you everywhere and let him nap in the carrier, car seat or stroller. But after that, hold sacred the naps!
4. Take a lot of pictures and write down memories and milestones every month for as long as you can. The first year is a blur.

But most importantly, lay off the Internet (the new Book of Fear) and enjoy your pregnancy! Your hair will never again be as thick, your skin as radiant, or your boobs as voluptous.

That's my girl

Franny took this photo of Z when she was in town a month ago. It so perfectly capture's my almost 2-year-old's blossoming personality!

And here's the Pepto spot

Nothing reinforces your street cred like rapping about stomach ailments.

I'm not dialing Domino's

I think this ranks as the most repulsive ad I've seen in a long time. Even more icky than the Pepto-Bismol spot where the dancers point to their butts and sing "Diarrhea!"