Regurgitating my plans

Even the best-laid plans can by thrown off by a kid with a nasty stomach bug. Our first indication that something was wrong came when we were four blocks away from a Ravenswood pizza place we'd been meaning to try. We heard a gagging sound coming from the backseat, and Z had her fist in her mouth. Seconds later, the first stream of vomit arched over her pink jacket. Then the second wave.

We don't pack spare clothes anymore, so Josh turned the car around and headed toward a more commercial strip to look for a place to pick up a new outfit. I immediately spotted an upscale kiddie boutique and we pulled into a parking space nearby. Baby wipes and coat removal got rid of the biggest chunks, and I carried Z into the chi-chi clothing store where I made a beeline to the sale rack. Forty-seven dollars later (gulp!) Z was freshly dressed in a brown corduroy dress and cream-colored tights and we made it to Spacca Napoli, where one of Josh's freelance friends was waiting for us. Z didn't want to eat the unfamiliar-looking pizza, but she happily munched on cheese and animal crackers.

My lovely green couch and I got the chance to wear said snacks, plus a full sippy cup of milk a couple of hours later.

Then, after one hour and two sippy cups full of watered-down apple juice, my loveseat got the upchuck treatment.

Two hours after that, Z demanded a peanut butter and honey sandwich and milk, which I reluctantly gave her. Then, when my doula stopped by to say hello and drop off a book and CD, Z blew chunks all over the front porch.

Needless to say, we sent Josh to the Chavurah party alone. My evening was a dance of laundry, paper towels, rags and cuddles. And the Peter Pan DVD.

On tap for this weekend

We've got a babysitter lined up and date night reservations at Sweets and Savories. Then there's the Mexican Food and Pinball Fiesta with our Chavurah. Add in my yoga class, a free prenatal massage (I'm going to be a "model" for a certification program downtown) and prep work that needs to be done for my friend Julie's Passover seder, and I'm not sure I'll have time for two other hoped-for activities: Baby Loves Disco and a trip to a garden center for some landscaping advice and inspiration.

I've never been to a BLD event (it is inexplicably held at naptime), but I've heard good things. And this is the last one at the Park West, one of my favorite concert venues.

What are your weekend plans?

The kid can talk

Over the past month or so, I've stopped asking Z leading questions. No more "Did you go to Adriana's house today? Did you have lunch? Was it beans and rice?"

Instead, I can ask her an open-ended question like, "How as your day at Adriana's house?" I might hear about yesterday's lunch or get a fanciful answer that involves her buddies, zoo animals and "Daddy Monsters," but we're having genuine conversations. And we can finish library books with reading comprehension questions like "What did Angelina do to her china dancer? Why was she so mad?"

Adriana tells me Z is similarly fluent in Spanish, asking to watch Jorge el Curiouso (Curious George) and requesting for a Kleenex for her mocos.

Pet food's "dirty little secret"

Last week I asked if the Menu Foods and Peter Pan recalls would lead to consumer mistrust of brands. I hadn't seen any mainstream media outlets reporting on how suspicious it seemed that premium dog and cat food brands were rolling off the same production lines as store brand pet food.

I still haven't found any good articles in newspapers or on TV, but Ad Age ran a story (subscription required) that's been recounted in other outlets. Here's a choice little excerpt from Monsters & Critics.

The scandal has revealed the shameful secret of pet food manufacturers. The same stuff is repackaged and sold at a higher price.

"Branded companies for years when they used co-packing arrangements have tried to keep that their little shoppers' secret," said Burt Flickinger to AdAge, principal with the consulting firm Strategic Resource Group. "But now this whole scandal can dismantle the pricing architecture for branded products when consumers can see that branded is essentially the same stuff with a higher price point."

"Most consumers will give them the benefit of the doubt that they must have separate formulas for expensive Eukanuba," said Laura Ries to AdAge, president of marketing consultancy Ries & Ries. "In many cases you know with private labels that those products are coming off the same belts as the branded products, and in some cases there is very little difference. ... But most people want to believe in brands, buy brands and trust brands."

Whole Foods crosses the pond

My expat sister-in-law Bethany sent me this article from The Guardian on Whole Foods' arrival in Britain. Apparently the golden aisles, mini cafes and abundant fruit displays are seducing the English as well as they have affluent Americans. Much of the article is dedicated to the company's now familiar back story, but it touches on the current backlash and the impact the store has had on more mainstream grocery store offerings. Nothing new, but it is interesting to hear it from an outsider's point of view.

Speaking of backlash, a copy of Michael Pollan's expose of Big Organic, The Omnivore's Dilemma, is on hold for me at the library. I'll report back soon.

Are you an Alpha Mom?

Even though I know they're mostly marketing shorthand, labels like "Alpha Mom" rub me the wrong way. I was irritated by the Soccer Mom and NASCAR Dad names applied to previously "hot" target markets in years past, but there is something even more offensive about the term "Alpha Mom."

According the this USA Today story, "Alpha Moms are educated, tech-savvy, Type A moms with a common goal: mommy excellence. She is a multitasker. She is kidcentric. She is hands-on. She may or may not work outside the home, but at home, she views motherhood as a job that can be mastered with diligent research."

The article goes on to say that Alpha Moms are influencers, driving the tastes and purchases of other mothers. I don't dispute this. There have always been connectors and mavens and plenty of marketing books describe them in great detail. So why do we need to describe these plugged-in Gen Xers as Alpha Moms? Are you a Beta Mom if you haven't got a blog? If you trust your instincts or your in-laws instead of the experts? Can we arrest the Gamma Moms for hiring a neighborhood teen instead of buying a SitterCity membership?

The media has already tried pitting working moms against stay-at-home-mothers. The last thing we need is another label that separates and elevates one group of moms above the rest. What do you think? Am I being too sensitive?

Eco-Saturday

I almost forgot to report back on our Saturday adventure at the FamilyFarmed.org Expo. We eco-consciously took the Blue Line into the city and walked the four or five blocks from stroller-unfriendly (no elevator) station to the Chicago Cultural Center. There, we got to sample lots of delicious local cheeses and yogurts as well as a smattering of honey, granola, baked goods and organic chocolate.

Z got her face painted by a seven year old girl and gamely ate everything offered on a toothpick, surprising us as she asked for more salsa and a second cayenne dark chocolate. Chipotle was there as a major sponsor, and even after many samples of cheese, Z put away an entire bowl of black beans and rice. Most impressively, she carried it through two rooms and up a ramp while eating it with a fork. We eventually found a spot of carpet where she could sit down and finish it.

Josh and I also grazed our way through the show, picking up brochures, product samples, coupons and CSA sign-up sheets along the way. We're weighing the benefits of joining a CSA this summer.

In favor: lots of fresh, organic produce delivered to our neighborhood weekly might inspire us to try new vegetables and eat more healthfully. It is an economic and social model we really believe in. We want our daughter(s) to feel connected to the food they eat and the farms where it is produced.
Against: Each delivery is enough for two vegetarian adults or four non-vegetarian adults. Unless our next-door neighbors want to split a share with us, there's no way we can put away that much kale. Most of the farms offering CSA shares also sell at the Oak Park Farmers' Market. Aside from salads, I have to admit I'm not the best vegetable-eater. I'd much rather subscribe to a fruit CSA, but they are not all 100% local and organic.

Saturday night we watched The Real Dirt on Farmer John, which said next-door neighbors loaned to us. It's a very well done documentary about the eccentric farmer/artist/hippie founder of southern Wisconsin's Angelic Organics, one of the more popular local CSAs.

If you missed the FamilyFarmed.org Expo, be sure to mark your calendar for the much bigger Chicago Green Festival, scheduled to take place at McCormick Place over Earth Day weekend.

Best day ever

75 degrees and sunny. Brunch with playgroup. Two park outings. And dinner ruined by soft serve custard from the Hole in the Wall. Pretty much perfect for a two-year-old. And I loved it too.

The power of onesie

It's not my state, but it's a start. Washington is thisclose to passing a paid family leave law, and MomsRising.org is inviting members to help create a chain of onesies designed to convince officials that paid family is for real children, real mothers and real families. It was easy enough to decorate an old onesie with the message. This week I will mail it to MomsRising in Washington, where it will join hundreds of others in a chain that can be displayed--clothesline style I'm guessing--in Olympia and elsewhere.

It's easy to join the effort. Send your onesie to: MomsRising, P.O. Box 19596, Seattle, WA 98109 or make a donation online.

A scandal for branding?

It looks like rat poison contamination is behind the kidney failure and related pet deaths associated with wet food processed and packaged by Menu Foods. As an animal lover, I am shocked and saddened by this news story, but I think there is a bigger consumer marketing story that isn't being covered by any of the media organizations.

This recall, together with the E-coli peanut butter recall of a few weeks ago, has demonstrated to the American public that many of the brands they see as differentiated are actually prepared and packaged by one manufacturer. That wet pet food from Wal-Mart and Kroger private labels ("the cheap stuff") to more premium food like IAMS are essentially the same stuff should be shocking. After all, there are major price differences among the 100-odd brands listed on the Menu Foods recall list.

Will these recalls raise consumer questions about who actually makes their favorite consumer packaged goods? Will they start asking precisely who is manufacturing the detergent, body lotion, breakfast cereal or mascara they pay a premium for? Will they be shocked to learn a budget brand rolls off the same production line as a more expensive product? Are the ingredient lists that different? How will we feel about ourselves if we learn that the upscale brands with which we associate ourselves are little different from their private label cousins?

How are you reacting to these recalls? Do they change how you think about brands, or have you always been a skeptic?

UPDATE 3/26/07: P&G sent this message to their Pet Care email list on March 21, "You may wonder why some 'wet' food was produced at Menu Foods. In fact, virtually every pet food company commonly uses outside partners for special or small volume items. Nonetheless, the different branded products made by Menu are not "the same". Our Iams and Eukanuba pet foods have unique recipes and important ingredient differences that distinguish them from other pet food brands."

The sailor dress

I bought Z this sailor dress at the Parenthesis Consignment Sale last weekend ($9 for a beautifully knit dress, made in England), and she has been clamoring to wear it every day since. The weather has warmed up slightly and her white tights were clean, so I let her put it on today. And you know what she said?

"I'm wearing my new sailor dress! I'm Captain Hook!"

My mother has a well-documented weakness for sailor dresses (even on adult women--yikes!), so this should be a big hit with her.

Downtown on the farm

We'll be at the FamilyFarmed.org Expo 2007 Saturday morning. The event is at the beautiful Chicago Cultural Center and it promises to be a feast of information and organic food. On the schedule are presentations on healthy eating for families and urban agriculture, exhibits from local family farms and CSAs and demonstrations from top area chefs like Rick Bayless, raw foodie Karyn Calabrese and Bruce Sherman from North Pond. Plus, I'm hoping to graze/shop my way through food samples at the farmer's market. It's too early for a ton of fresh produce, but there will meats, cheeses, breads, honey, nuts and handmade soaps, I'm sure.

Not sure what it is, but they're also promising an "Organic Kids Activity Corner." Kids under 12 are free and adult tickets are two-for-one if you purchase them in advance on their website.

"I'm a mommy"

This morning as we were enjoying our breakfast, Z demanded "hot chocolate" and further requested I serve it to her in my ceramic coffee mug. I told her that we were all out of chocolate, but I would be happy to warm up her milk. She settled for warm milk ("just like Mommy's coffee"), but insisted I serve it to her in a grown-up mug. What the heck, I thought, grabbing a stained promotional mug from the cabinet and dumping the contents of her sippy cup into it. I warmed the milk in the microwave for a 20 seconds and served it to her, letting her stir in two teaspoons worth of my coffee.

The kid was as pleased as punch, sipping with grace and saying, "I'm a Mommy. I need to finish my coffee and go to work! I work on the computer and go meetings! I'm a Mommy. I have a coffee mustache!"

A gutsy move for P&G

Now this is a brilliant move. P&G is going after a much younger audience for its fiber product by pitching it like a beauty brand. With colonics on the verge of going mainstream, I suppose its only natural for a mainstream supplement to try making an entrance through the exit door. The tagline, if you can't read it here, is "Beautify your inside."

Doing it all

I was listening to NPR this morning and heard a story about how working moms today are spending the same amount of time with their kids that stay-at-home moms did in the 1970s. How is that possible? Two main reasons: One, moms in the 1970s were more comfortable with letting their kids play independently; they could run down the street, entertain themselves in the backyard or head to the playground without direct parental supervision. Also, these 1970s moms were doing a lot more cooking and cleaning than working moms are doing today. We've outsourced dusting and mopping to cleaning services and cut back on the time spent preparing meals with take-out, convenience foods and simpler dinners.

The good news: today's working mothers are getting in the same amount of quality time they enjoyed from their moms (about 11 hours a week). The bad news: we're doing it by sacrificing our own sleep and leisure time. And we're probably eating way too much fast food. But that's a different story.

More free coffee

On the heels of Starbucks' national coffee giveaway, Dunkin Donuts is offering up free iced coffees all day tomorrow. Starbucks only gave away a cuppa joe from 10am-12 noon. Advantage: Dunkin. Now if they'd only let me customize my drink myself...

Stranger than Fiction

Josh and I watched Stranger than Fiction on DVD this weekend, and while I enjoyed the movie, I was distracted by all of the setting inconsistencies. I think I was driving Josh nuts with my observations since he was much more irritated by the film's supposed plot holes, but heck, what's my blog for if I can't air a few grievances?

So here we go. The movie was obviously shot in Chicago, but no references are made to Chicago...just "this city." Will Ferrell catches a CTA bus every day, but he says to a fellow rider, "Don't you just love the MTA?" He uses a pay phone in the "6th street station," which appears to be under Daley Plaza. I'm pretty sure it was the Jackson tunnel; there's definitely no 6th street downtown. And I'm pretty sure the IRS doesn't have a major office in Chicago anyway. We send our returns to St. Louis.

What else? Ferrell takes the bus to Euclid Avenue, which is west of the city--a very long bus ride from what looked to be Michigan Avenue. Emma Thompson's character, the author who is narrating Farrell's life, appears to have a studio overlooking the State Street Sears store (not likely), and Farrell's hospital room has a magnificent view of the Wrigley Building--something you can't see from Northwestern Memorial Hospital. Maybe he was recovering at Swissotel?

Amped, the guitar shop where Ferrell buys a Stratocaster appeared to be located in the financial district (um, maybe Wicker Park or Lincoln Square would be more likely). And then there's the professor played by Dustin Hoffman. I'm quite confident his scenes were shot at the modernist concrete creation that is University of Illinois Chicago, but no signs or flags identified the school.

Nissan embraces nontraditional marketing

Here's an example of a great, very inexpensive word-of-mouth marketing campaign Nissan launched to promote its keyless ignitions to African-American consumers. Not sure why this is an "ethnic" campaign since it seems like it would build buzz in any community, but I'm guessing that the most ethnic element is the locations where the keys are dropped.

Taco triumph

Last night we watched Z build, wrap and eat an entire taco. First she spooned the taco meat from a small bowl onto her soft corn tortilla. Then she sprinkled on some shredded cheddar. Finally, she folded it into a shape not entirely unlike a burrito, crammed it securely in her tiny fist, and ate the entire thing. Not a speck of meat fell out. I was couldn't take my eyes off of her. And needless to say, everything fell out of my tortilla.

Potty update!

It was a perfect storm. New Tinkerbell underpants that I picked up at a rummage sale this morning. Add a week's worth of viewings of a new potty movie (which I will be reviewing here in the next couple of weeks) and an afternoon visit with her best friend Lia, who is potty trained. The result? A bona-fide tinkle in the potty chair. Z actually hopped out of the tub during bathtime and said, "I need to go potty."

Sitting on the pot and talking the talk is nothing new. Actual production of pee? Now that's worth blogging about!