10 reasons you wish you worked at Google

I just spent the last two days at Google for training and team building on behalf of one of my clients. I became intensely jealous of the culture at this massive internet company. Hence, 10 reasons you wish you worked here.

1. Google HQ, where 5000+ Googlers work, is in Mountain View, CA, where the weather is perfect every day.
2. You're never more than a two minute walk from a micro-kitchen stocked with cereal, fresh fruit (even figs!), a wide selection of gourmet snack items (fresh and non-perishable) and at least 30 kinds of beverages, from coffee to Coke to Odwalla smoothies to Hint Water. All free.
3. The cafeterias, which are also free to employees and their guests, feature a wide variety of foods, mostly locally sourced and organic. Seeing the line of South Asians at the Namaste counter, I loaded up my plate with daal, naan, roti and Tandoori chicken.
4. You are asked to dedicate 20 percent of your time to a project separate from your regular duties. It doesn't even have to result in a profitable product launch for Google. It can just be something cool or charitably minded.
5. You can use adorable Google bikes to get from one office to another. Or request a free ride from an on-campus "taxi."
6. If you live in San Francisco, you can catch a free ride to work on a fancy coach-style bus. They leave from various neighborhoods every 10 minutes and there's free wifi on board. Most bus riders haul in bags of dirty laundry and use the on-campus machines to clean their clothes.
7. If carrying your laundry to work doesn't burn off the three meals a day you're snarfing down at work, you can get your exercise on the playing fields, the beach volleyball courts or in the lap pool. And top it off with a free massage--there are dedicated rooms in every building with full-time massage therapists on staff.
8. Make yourself comfortable in the Google bathrooms. The seats are heated, there are bidet functions should you want them, and there's plenty of educational literature pinned up so that no learning opportunity is wasted. And you can be sure that a company that pays for your meals and laundry isn't going to make you cough up a quarter for a tampon.
9. Get inspired. Artwork by Googlers is on exhibit, as is a T. Rex replica skeleton, a 3 foot Android phone and photos from small business owners around the world whose companies have benefited from Google ad buys.
10. Bring your dog to work. I saw countless pups as well as a ton of small children. And according to a Googler I spoke to, the daycare centers are so "amazing" they have a 3 year waiting list. Of course, most kids graduate from day care at age 3, so maybe that's one tiny little reason not to wish you worked at Google. Hah.
11. Okay, I'm won over, but this place is freaking utopia. Everyone carefully sorts their lunch tray leftovers into compost, recycling and trash bins, there are daily talks on self-improvement and knowledge sharing... and to top it off, a pashmina that slipped off me unnoticed during our tour was waiting on the curb 5 hours later.

Doppleganger in the schoolyard

I walked Z to school again this morning (the weather is astonishingly beautiful) and noticed a middle-aged woman standing next to the school doors who looked exactly like my senior producer at work. Same hair. Same face. Same body. Same glasses. Even her posture was the same. I tried to catch her eye, but she looked right through me.

That's strange, I thought. I knew my production manager, Jean, lived in Oak Park, but this woman clearly was working at the school and Jean couldn't possibly hold down two simultaneous jobs. "Who's that lady in the black vest?" I asked Z.

"Ms. S-," she replied.

I was puzzled, but so intrigued I snapped a picture with my phone. Two hours later I was in a meeting with Jean and I asked her "Do you have an identical twin who works at Lincoln Elementary?"

And indeed she does. One of the dozen people on my team at work has an identical twin sister who teaches at my daughter's school, in the classroom right next to hers. I passed my phone around the conference room and everyone agreed it looked just like our colleague.

According to Jean, she frequently gets stopped on the streets of Oak Park by parents who think she's her twin sister Joan.

It's a small, small world.

The first day of second grade

A new backpack.
A new lunchbox, which matches the backpack.
An outfit carefully selected and laid out on the bedroom floor the night before.
Hair brushed. Teeth brushed.
Breakfast? Barely touched.
Z jumped out of bed and began counting the minutes until we would leave the house and start the 15 minute walk to school. Every 5 minutes I got an update and a request to "leave now."

Finally, I snapped her picture and we joined two neighbor families for the inaugural walk. Z, flanked by a kindergartener she's grown up with and his 4th grade brother, led the way, beating us by a block.

The schoolyard was packed with parents, younger siblings, bulky bags of school supplies and teachers in orange safety vests. Z joined her classmates, saying "hi," giggling and bouncing up and down in line behind their 2nd grade teacher--a new hire and a Mister. 


Betcha tomorrow she'll want to take the bus.

Next week: 1st grade
Her first day of kindergarten
Her first day of school
Preschool's back in session
Her first day of preschool

I've been neglecting my blog

I don't know if I've ever gone for more than a week between blog posts, but between being really busy and feeling like I don't have anything interesting to say, I've haven't logged on in a quite a while.

But since I've got a few hours to kill at Boston's Logan Airport and I can only listen to the crazy lady behind me bad mouth all of her friends and relatives and moan about her health problems to someone on the other end of the phone for just so long... here I am.

I'm in Boston for work--a 3 day all-agency meeting that was just long enough to require the purchasing of guilt gifts for my children. I ended up buying Z a trendy top and A a two-piece Speedo from the clearance racks at the Marshalls near Boston Common. Which is a touch ironic given that my travel plans prevented me from attending a blogger back-to-school fashion event put on by T.J. Maxx and Marshalls back in Chicago.

Hopefully you'll see more of me in the next few days. I'm looking forward to my mom and stepdad's visit this weekend and we're going to meet Z's 2nd grade teacher (a man!) on Monday afternoon. She starts school on Wednesday

Hooky (a week ago today)

Last Wednesday I took the day off work and spent it with the family (the girls had a camp-free week and were driving Josh nuts).

Our morning was picture perfect. Josh had a doctor's appointment in Lincoln Park, so he dropped me and the girls off at North Avenue beach for an hour or so.

It was early enough that we missed the drunk crowds of yahoos at Castaways and the beach volleyball courts, but there was still some bottle caps and cigarette butts on the sand (boo). But that didn't stop the girls from soaking up the magic that is any beach, no matter how trashy or fresh(?)-watery.

The rest of the day was punctuated by whiny kids, temper tantrums and...well, I'm just now recovering.

Revenge of the nerds

With my frizzy hair, AP course load and complete unfamiliarity with pop culture and fashion (I'd been overseas during elementary and middle school), I qualified as one of the geekier members of the Wakefield High School Class of 1994.

And while I'm definitely out-geeked by the first generation Korean-American science genius with the incredible growing jaw that Dr. Youn describes from his teen years in his memoir In Stitches, my success as an ad agency creative director with lovely curly locks is out-shined by his tremendous accomplishments as one of the country's best known plastic surgeons.

Dr. Youn opens his hilarious book with the moment that solidified for him why he'd chosen the right field: he was about to remove a fourteen year old boy's enormous man boobs and give the guy a chance at a normal life. It reminded the young physician of how his skill could change this guy's life for the better, just as his teenage jaw-reduction improved his.

I thought back, trying to remember a moment when I first realized being an ad creative was my true calling. I'm not sure any qualify as true watershed moments, but I recall spending days with my 6th grade friend Diane as we worked on a meticulously written and illustrated "doll catalogue." Then in high school I took a job working at a Hoohobbers boutique for children and I got such a thrill from designing the window displays.

Finally, I took a job as a promotions coordinator at an alt weekly right out of college. I loved putting together events and writing the ads and invites and collateral, but I didn't much like meeting with nightclub owners and beer reps and asking for money. Copywriting and creating without the responsibility of negotiating contracts...that's pretty much the life of an agency creative.


I received my copy of this book because I am a member of the From Left to Write book club. We don't write book reviews, but posts inspired by the book we've read.

Kids say the darnedest things

A has a new habit of holding one finger up next to her eye and saying "Smile!" She then makes a clicking noise and says "I'm putting that one on my blog."

Which is frighteningly reflective until she adds, "I have a real, grown up camera. It's pink and purple and shiny. And it has a blog in it. I put your picture on my blog. But you didn't smile very nice, so we should probably try again."

Agency Land

Today was Leo Burnett's 76th anniversary, and the theme of the party was "bring your inner child to work." As part of the 24th floor festivities, we posted our elementary school pictures and had a locker/door decorating contest.

My roomie/partner Laura and I created the masterpiece to the left. Unfortunately we didn't win first prize, so we'll be splitting a $20 Starbucks gift card instead of $50 iTunes credit.

C'est la vie. At least there was human bowling, remote control car racing as well as vodka iced tea, candy and Doritos to keep things interesting between client calls.

Dang, I'm realizing now that you can't read all the clever copy, from "Make the logo bigger" to "Make it work with stock photography" to "Susan Credle learned your name."

CDs for budding music fans

I've written before about our general embrace of the Kidz Bop franchise, and they've got another winner in Kidz Bop 20, their latest collection of PG-rated, kid-sung Top 40 tunes (think Now That's What I Call Music for the grade school set).

Z had been pestering me for months, asking when a new Kidz Bop album was going to come out, and she finally has it (and loves it). But before it hit stores, I was offered a review copy of another CD full of kid vocals, Star Rock for Kids. I wasn't sure Z would appreciate it given she hadn't heard any of the songs on the radio--or ever (the CD is a wacky mix of songs from the last few decades). But she proved me wrong, shutting herself up in her room and memorizing the lyrics to her new favorite songs and marveling that "this song was sung by an 8 year old...and 8 YEAR OLD!"

Here's her take on Star Rock for Kids.


She also did a video review of Kidz Bop 20, which you can view here.
And (if you are a blood relation), you might also enjoy A's presentation of her lullabies CD, inspired by her big sister's performance.

Disclosure: I received review copies of both Kidz Bop 20 and Star Rock for Kids. All opinions expressed are mine (or my child's).

The princess and her castle

Z was hard at work coloring in this piece of hand-me-down poster board when I arrived home from work yesterday. Details include a "queen with her baby," a drawbridge, a fountain, a "maid cleaning the roof" and various rooms visible through the windows.

Best. Dinner. Ever.

We've spent a lot--even too much--on foodie dining this year, but nothing beats the private "underground" dining experience we had Saturday night at One Sister chef Iliana Regan's apartment. Josh recruited 3 other couples from among our food-loving friends, and the 8 of us were joined by 2 other couples at a square table for 12, cordoned off from the living room by a curtain. The dinner started at 8 and went on well past midnight, but I felt like it flew by. Surrounded my many of my favorite people, drinking amazing wine and experiencing over a dozen delicious dishes--each one unlike anything I've ever eaten before, many originating in either the chef's backyard garden or family farm in Indiana... it will go down as one of the best, most memorable nights of my life.

And the most amazing thing? The price tag. It was just $90 per person plus gratuity and another $35 or so per couple for the wine Jay picked out at a wine store familiar with One Sister's menu.

A love letter to my community

There I was this afternoon, sitting with my daughters in the front row of the Oak Park River Forest High School theatre for the final production of "Annie." The orphans on stage and orchestra members in the pit below were belting out "It's a Hard Knock Life," and tears were pouring down my cheeks.

I was overcome, not by the sad lives of Depression-era orphans in New York City, but by how much eye-popping talent surrounds my children and how much I love the community in which we are raising them.

Yesterday was our annual summer block party. It was a more laid-back affair than in years' past because the self-proclaimed block captain was on vacation. At her request, I organized the dinner, and it was a success, with 6 banquet tables full of people chowing down on hamburgers, mini Vienna Beef hot dogs and a smorgasbord of side dishes.

The kids ran free, playing with their neighborhood friends from 2 until I finally hustled them home and hosed them off in the backyard around 8. And you know what they were doing when I finally located them and took them home? They were in a neighbor's basement. A was playing with one of her best friends and Z was playing hand clap games with a circle of 8th graders, one of whom is a regular babysitter of ours. It warms my heart to know that in a world of Facebook bullies and girls growing up too fast, my kids are getting exposed to good-hearted, multi-talented teenagers they can look up to and adults who immediately rallied to find a missing Dad.


After "Annie," we drove straight to another neighbor's house. Unfortunately this family is moving west, but they were hosting one last party in their beautiful home. One more opportunity to gather friends and neighbors for stories, laughter and wine. Another last chance to watch our children race around in loose packs, roughly divided by age and gender, but with a lot of overlap. While A and her BFF were inseparable (and looking remarkably like twins with their wavy brown hair, brown eyes and tanned skin), wild-haired Z was off playing ball in the alley with a group of boys.

I was fortunate to have the worldly upbringing of a Foreign Service child, but in many ways I feel like my children are luckier. They are growing up in tight-knit community where they run into classmates at the library, fellow gymnasts at the park, neighbors at the pool, and our family doctor at the farmers' market. My childhood was one of intermittent loneliness and feeling left out, and while I know that friendships will wax and wane and school yard drama is probably in their not-so-distant future, so far my girls feel like great friends live around every single corner.

I'm cheating here--this was actually Thursday night

Which wich is be-wichingly clever

The best compliment one marketing creative can give to another? The jealous feeling of "Damn, I wish I did that."

You may profess, as many of my non-marketing friends do, that you "don't care about marketing and signage and all that branding nonsense," but you're probably lying. Overall, Americans have become more appreciative of design in recent years. We want the products we use and the places we go to  have a personality and a nice aesthetic. Is anyone mourning the loss of the old, cluttered, dimly lit McDonald's restaurants?

Anyway, my go-to lunchtime sandwich joint has long been Potbelly, which has the whole rustic chalkboard with a side of live music thing going on. But I was intrigued by the arrival of Which Wich to Block 37 and headed out for a brief walk in the heat to give them a try today.

So glad I did. Not only do I love all of the choices and customization options, I like the whole setup. Mark up a paper sandwich bag using a red Sharpie, pay, and watch as your bag slides along a clothesline from prepped to finished. Actually, it is tough to tell which bag is yours because the marked-up side faces the sandwich-makers. Next time I'll doodle on the back before I turn it in so I can see how close my tasty buffalo shrimp sandwich with blue cheese, buffalo sauce, ranch dressing, lettuce and tomato is to ready. If you can't visit a location, their website does an excellent job of mimicking all of the shop's key components: the bags, the clothespins, the bold "hand-crafted" yellow and black iconography.

Incidentally, while I'd ordered my sandwich "untoasted," the guy behind the counter accidentally toasted it and begged for my forgiveness and patience while he made another. I told him it really didn't matter, toasted sounded good to me (and it was), but he pushed a free drink on me as compensation.

Incidentally, Which Wich encourages back of bag doodles and displays them in store.

Behind the scenes at Sprinkles

I was on a conference call today, explaining to a client what drives word-of-mouth. One of the keys to creating buzz about a brand is offering something worth talking about. If you give shoppers a sneak peek at something new or exclusive access, they can't help but want to talk about it. Think about it: no one wants to be the fifth person to recommend a cute cupcake bakery to our friends ... If we can't be one of the first, we probably won't make a point of bringing it up in conversation.

Sprinkles, the Beverly Hills cupcake bakery that arguably began the cupcake craze, opened its Chicago location in the Gold Coast last year. While it's as delicious as ever, it's no longer new. So it was a stroke of genius for the bakery to host an in-kitchen cupcake and Champagne reception for local mom bloggers. We headed back, behind the counter and through the kitchen doors to an immaculate work space where dozens upon dozens of cupcakes are mixed, baked and frosted.

Our hosts were the Sprinkles founders Charles and Candace Nelson (you may recognize her from the Food Network show Cupcake Wars). My co-worker Laura and I got to taste their cupcakes, try our hand at frosting one ourselves and talk to Candace about her business, her life and her inspiration. It turns out the couple were victims of the early 2000s dot-com bubble. She got laid off, went to pastry school and decided they should open a bakery. Candace lives in LA, is mom to a 4 year old and an 8 month old, and somehow balances parenting with a TV show and her growing cupcake empire.

Having turned out so many no-so-pretty cupcakes for A's birthday party last weekend, I asked how they managed to make all of the cupcakes exactly the same size. She said they use an instrument that's basically the size of an ice cream scoop, but that a city's heat and humidity affect how much batter they need and how long it needs to be baked. "We're always making adjustments."

I went home with a small box of cupcakes and shared them with my favorite foodie. "Don't take this the wrong way," Josh said, "but these are really good. I like them better than your cupcakes."

Sprinkles cupcakes retail for $3.50 each, which is pricey. But the ingredients are top-notch and the taste is incredible. If I had to pick my favorites, I'd say the Key Lime, the Salty Caramel, and the Vanilla.

The birthday party

"It's really fun being 4." That was the last thing A said before falling asleep tonight, and that's not surprising given the awesome day she's had.

It started with an early morning birthday gift scavenger hunt (a tradition I started on Z's 5th birthday) and ended with a girls-only dinner at Duckfat (Josh was rocking/broiling at Pitchfork) and an outdoor bath in the kiddie pool. In between there were chocolate-chip pancakes, finger and toenail painting time, a date with Mommy (we rode my bike to Red Hen and split a scone) and her much-anticipated birthday party at the River Forest Community Center (the same place we celebrated Z's 4th birthday).


Although the party had more than its share of wild older boys and bratty little girls (including one who said "I can't believe there isn't any pizza. That's weird."), the kids had a great time and no one got injured.

Oh, and the 36 vanilla cupcakes I'd made and frosted with purple buttercream Friday afternoon were delicious (if not as Martha Stewart-beautiful) as I'd hoped.





You can see all the photos here

A's previous birthday parties
A budget friendly birthday party in Berwyn
Cupcakes rule
Mmm... cake

Happy 4th Birthday, A

Dear A,
You've grown and changed so much in the last year, but you're still very much my affectionate little girl with her flair for the dramatic.

You've grown taller and your hair's grown longer and you've lost your baby chub, but you're still a peanut according to the AAP (you measure in the 5th percentile for height and the 25th for weight.


You've always been loud and dramatic and you figured out how to make believe at a young age, tagging along as a willing participant in your big sister's imaginary games, but now it's so much more intense. You can entertain yourself for 90 minutes all by yourself, and when others are around you, it seems every sentence that comes out of your mouth starts with "Let's pretend..." Only you pronounce it "pee-tend." Just this month I've watched you pee-tend to be animals (snakes, cats, and lions), a princess, an evil stepmother, a mean mommy, a nice mommy, a babysitter and a baby.


Your relationship with your big sister Z has become more complicated. While you still look up to her and want her as your constant playmate, you can't resist pestering her with a poke or a kick or a "what's that supposed to mean?" I thought it wasn't something you could help, but then I heard you advising another younger sibling "If she won't talk to you, you should annoy her."


This year was full of firsts for you. You started Montessori school, gymnastics and art classes and nurtured a large circle of friends--mostly girls. You can identify all the letters in the alphabet, count up to 20 and perform some very basic addition and subtraction. You can tell by the sound of the word what letter it begins with and you can spell some basic words on your own. You love to be given jobs, whether it is making my bed, grinding the coffee beans or pouring your own milk into your cereal. Nothing makes you more upset that hearing your sister swoop in to give the answer you're still formulating.

And you're brave! Without a tear in your eye, you yanked up your shorts for a shot at the doctor's office. You'll jump into the pool and go right underwater. You loved the thrill rides at Dutch Wonderland and would have willingly gotten on the large roller coaster had you been tall enough. You're not afraid of strangers ("Bad guys are just pretend," you've told me) or new situations, but flies, bees and spiders freak you out.

But the most you part of your personality is your outgoing nature. You'll strike up a conversation with anyone. Similarly-sized kids on the playground, your friends' parents, grandparents, the cashiers at Trader Joe's, doctors, dentists, babysitters and neighbors have heard your anecdotes, many of which you plunge right into without too much context. "We're growing sunflowers in our back yard. Come and see," you'll say to our next door neighbors as you grab them by the hand and lead them past the grill and into our back yard. "We're having burgers and pineapple on the grill. With big pretzel buns! Do you like hamburgers? We're growing so many things in our garden."

I remember loving age 4 with Z. I can't wait to see what you will bring to the coming year.

Similar
Happy 3rd Birthday, A
Happy 2nd Birthday, A
Happy 1st Birthday, Baby A

About those little baggies of pre-cut apples

A, eating a bag of pre-sliced Crunch Pak apples

You heard it here first: pre-sliced apples are the new baby carrots.

As most people know by now, baby carrots are really ugly carrots cleaned and shaved down to a handy snack size.  Their popularity took carrots out of the so-called "drawer of death" and onto appetizer platters and packed lunches. Now, to maintain momentum, one of the biggest carrot sellers in America is trying to market them like junk food. You can see some of their efforts at babycarrots.com.

Now while carrots might be a popular produce item, I'm fairly confident in stating that apples are pretty much Americans' favorite fruit or vegetable (not including the french fried potato). And unlike traditional carrots, which require scrubbing/peeling and cutting for maximum enjoyment and portability, the regular old apple is pretty darn convenient. I typically rinse an apple (Honey Crisp is my favorite) under running water, wrap it in a napkin and pop it in my lunch bag.

But kids. They want a sliced apple. And they want those slices as white and crispy as the moment they were cut. The apple processing company Crunch Pak figured out how to cut, preserve and bag fresh apple slices years ago, and they've made it big selling their processed fresh produce product (how's that for a mouthful) to McDonald's and other fast food restaurants.

As a mom, I'm delighted to be able to choose apple slices instead of fresh fries, but I've held off on buying pre-sliced apples for home use. It just seemed like such a luxury. I can hear my own mother's voice saying "Just sprinkle a little lemon juice on the slices and pop them in a baggie. That's what I did and it was good enough for you."

Well you know what? I tried that and my daughter sent back the whole bag, uneaten. "It's brown and slimy," she complained.

But Crunch Pak apples? I've offered them as a snack at home, on a bike ride and in her packed lunch, and each time my 3 1/2 year old has eaten every last slice. You see, I was sent some free samples of Crunch Pak's new Disney-licensed line, and while A only showed a passing interest in the Cars 2 characters on her apple baggies, she went nuts for the Mickey Mouse-shaped snack pack with apples, cheddar cheese cubes and baby pretzels.

And the most I thought about it, the more I realized that by buying pre-sliced apples (or baby carrots, for that matter), I'm not paying a premium for fresh produce--I'm using convenience food funds that might otherwise pay for chips and crackers for something with equal kid appeal and a lot more nutritional value.

Interview with an (almost) 4 year old

In honor of A's approaching birthday, I conducted a casual interview over dinner.

What's your favorite color? My best favorite is dark purple.
What's your favorite animal? Unicorn.
Your favorite TV show? "Arthur."
What about your favorite thing to wear? Dress.
What's your birthday wish? A princess doll.
What do you like to do at school? Go outside.
What do you like to do at home? Dress up.
Who are your best friends? My bestest, bestest friend is Greta.
What do you want to be when you grow up? A mommy. Um, actually? A dentist.
Do you want to have children when you grow up? Uh, yeah.
How many children will you have? Five.
Boys or girls? One boy and four girls.
Pets? I am going to have a pet. A dog. Aren't you going to ask what my name is going to be when I grow up?
What will your name be? Tyna. What about what's my favorite thing to do at the pool? Play with toys.
What do you like about your Mommy? When I cuddle with you.
What do you like about your Daddy? When he lets me hug him.
And what do you like about your sister?  When she lets me kiss her. Ask about Oscar.
What do you like about Oscar? When he drinks water. What about birthday parties? Cake! No, wait, say cupcakes so that people know that I'm going to have cupcakes at my party.
Where are you going to live when you grow up? In Mexico. Will you visit me in Mexico? Maybe I'll be a grandma.
What's your favorite sport? Soccer, cause it's funner than basketball.
Is gymnastics more fun than soccer? I like both!
What would you like to do when you're four years old? I would like to ride in our bike trailer when we get it back.

Similar:
Interview with an (almost) 6 year old
Interview with 4 year old Z

Practically a second honeymoon

Josh and my 12th anniversary is tomorrow, but we've already celebrated. We paid one of our favorite babysitters, who is home from college for the summer, to watch the girls from 3:30 on Saturday until nearly noon on Sunday. Josh and I went into the city, where we checked into the Hotel Allegro.

Not only is the Allegro a charming hotel with a good location, they offer wine, sangria and snacks from 5-6pm and free coffee (and the Sunday New York Times) in the lobby in the morning. After getting acquainted with our small but luxurious room (a comfy bed and Aveda amenities for the win), we enjoyed our glasses of wine and walked east to State Street. We popped into Zara, where I bought Josh a new dress shirt and tie (his dressy wardrobe is very limited--not surprising for a SAHD kind of guy).

Our dinner reservations were at GT Fish and Oyster, an easy walk to River North. Since we hadn't called far enough in advance, our options were the communal table or the bar. Seeing a family with sippy cup-wielding kid at the former, we opted for the bar. Turned out to be a great choice as our bartender was friendly, knowledgeable, and easy on the eyes in a George Clooney kind of way. Also? The food and cocktails were delicious and they sent us a free cheesecake pannecotta for dessert.


We walked around the downtown area, pausing over the bridge to gape at all the boaters--everything from posh party boats to speedboats full of sunburned families. We headed back to the hotel giddy with excitement and a sense that we were really getting away with something. After all, we didn't have to put anyone to bed! And no one was going to wake us up at 6am!

But the anniversary surprises didn't stop coming; we opened the door to our room and found a bottle of bubbly and a box of chocolates, courtesy of the management. I think I have the front desk guy to thank for that. He asked if we were checking in "for any special occasion," and I said "Yes, our anniversary." Both he and the bartender at GT looked surprised when we told them which anniversary we were celebrating. And I guess by today's standards I was something of a child bride.

The next day was just as glorious. We slept in, read the newspaper and bused it over to The Publican, one of our very favorite restaurants (and scene of last year's anniversary) for their Sunday brunch. If you get there right at 10am, you can be seated right away (we got a choice table outside). There's also ample free parking there at that time.

The kids did just fine--they had so much fun, in fact, that they didn't want their sitter to leave.

I paid for peace in the car

Hurray for happy travelers

Some may call it bribery, but I prefer the more corporate incentivizing. You see, on this last road trip I paid my kids $1 an hour for good behavior in the car. I started halfway through the outbound trip and only rewarded them for car rides lasting more than 1 hour, but they each made about $16 and I bought priceless peace for myself and Josh.

My hope was that the girls would save all of their dollars for a souvenir of some kind, but apparently money burns a hole in the pockets of the young. They would scan the displays at rest stop convenience stores, wide-eyed in wonder at all the items for sale. Z got to buy Gatorade (something I won't pay for) and sugar free gum and A treated herself to a box of animal crackers. Later they both sprung for single serve bags of Cheetos, a purchase they savored as they sucked the bright orange powder out from behind their fingernails.


In any case, I fully plan to make the road trip reward system a regular feature of our trips. I won't get pestered by whining or fighting in the car (and asked to buy junk every time we stop) and they can indulge themselves silly...or (hopefully) learn the value of a dollar saved.