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.

My fancy china

First we bought the big dining room table, and then we got a buffet. Now we've got the china to put put both to use! My mom's been after me to take her Royal Doulton wedding china for years [oops, turns out she didn't have wedding china; this was purchased by my mom in 1979], but until this road trip, we'd had no way of getting the service for 12 from Virginia to Illinois.

I just unpacked the dishes, which have been in storage for years--probably at least since I was in high school. And only one dish (a salad plate) was broken.

Dutch Wonderland, my new favorite amusement park

We've been mourning the loss of Kiddieland, but a visit to Lancaster's Dutch Wonderland earlier this week gave us the dose of tame amusement park rides we've been missing. We met up with my high school BFF Franny and her family, who were visiting family in Harrisburg, and together we went from 5:30 until the 8:30 closing, taking full advantage of our discounted "twilight" tickets (along with--hold on to your yarmulkes--what appeared to be an entire Orthodox Jewish congregation).

A proved quite the daredevil, going on every ride she was tall enough to board--even riding in the front car of the roller coaster with her tiny hands up. Z preferred the swings, riding them 3 times in a row. (One of the advantages of going at the end of the day is that there are no lines and the worn out attendants are perfectly happy to let kids just stay on as long as they like.

3 Smithsonian Museums, 1 Day

We didn't see every exhibit, not by a long shot, but we had a blast checking out Human Origins and the Oceans exhibits at the Smithsonian Natural History Museum, eating an overpriced meal at the Museum of the American Indian, and watching Hubble 3D at the Air and Space Museum's IMAX theater.

And to top it all off, today was the opening day of the Smithsonian Folklife Festival/50th anniversary of the Peace Corps. (See A dancing on the left.)

We headed over after meeting Josh's aunt and uncle and his cousin (and recent college grad) John for breakfast. We were on the go (and on our feet, mostly) from 8:30am to 6pm. I guess that's what's possible when your kids no longer nap.

Brand experiences as tourism

Over the last couple of days in Central Pennsylvania, we've made four very different brand pilgrimages.

The biggest and best known is Hershey's Chocolate World, which is consists of a free ride through a simulated factory-slash-"It's a Small World After All" animatronic extravaganza. You exit through the gift shop, which is the world's most extensive Hershey's candy department. Best souvenirs: rare candy bars and Hershey's Kiss earrings (about $6). Chocolate World also offers some 3-D movie nonsense and a "create your own candy bar" experience, but because the adults supervising children under 8 needed to pay the full admission price, we gave all the add-on experiences a pass. Instead, we took a Chocolate Lab class (they're offered at the Hershey Museum) for about $8 a person. We donned hairnets and aprons and created our own Aztec-inspired candy bars while learning about the history of chocolate.

The Turkey Hill Experience, which just opened this year, borrows a page from Hershey's. It's about entertainment and branding versus an authentic factory experience. The "museum" is right by 3 Mile Island nuclear plant, about 35 minutes from Harrisburg. For about $11 a person you get to sample very small portions of Turkey Hill ice cream and beverages, learn the history of the company and create your own pretend flavor of ice cream. From mixing in virtual ingredients to designing a carton to shooting your own commercial, it's a high-tech experience (complete with a social media overlay) that made a huge impression on my kids. If they were ever to see Turkey Hill ice cream in our Chicago-area supermarket, they'd definitely ask me to buy it.

On the other, more rustic end of the spectrum, were the Wilbur Chocolate Museum and Julius Sturgis Pretzel Bakery in Lititz. The former is a large candy store and working chocolate shop with a lot of vintage chocolate artifacts on the walls. Stop in and sample their famous chocolate buds, which looks suspiciously like Hershey's Kisses, but taste more premium and cost quite a bit more. At the Pretzel Bakery you can tour the original pretzel factory and get a lesson in pretzel rolling. You'll get a free bag of Tom Sturgis hard pretzels at the end of the tour, and I can't decide which is better: those hard pretzels or the fresh, doughy pretzels they sell in the front room for $1.

Speaking of deliciousness, we drove through Amish Country from Lititz to West Chester, where my in-laws live. We bought fresh peaches, cherries and blueberries from a farm stand; sweet-looking baked goods (including whoopie pies) from Bird-in-Hand Bakery; and homemade root beer. In order to get the root beer, we followed a hand-lettered sign up a long driveway and flagged down a gaggle of Amish children, who went inside to get 2 pint bottles of ice cold root beer that their family made on site.

Previously:
Two days on the road and I don't want to kill my kids

Two days on the road and I don't want to kill my kids

I was half-excited, half-dreading our road trip east, knowing that 2 hours in the car with my children can be a major drag (see Grand Rapids), let alone 12. But believe it or not, the kids were pretty good until the very last 35 minutes in the car.

We left Oak Park at 4:15 on Thursday, right after picking Z up from her last day at Eco-Rangers day camp and depositing her tropical plant and cactus at home. Literally 10 minutes before our planned departure time, UPS dropped off the headphone splitter we'd ordered for the trip and Oscar the cat came inside. Positive signs, both. [For those wondering about Oscar's health and wellbeing during our absence, fret not: a friend of our next door neighbor volunteered to stay at our house and care for him while she waits for her Oak Park-area apartment lease to start.]

We spent the first hour on the road in traffic, but things were pretty smooth sailing after we made it into Indiana. We had a delicious pizza dinner at Rocco's in South Bend. An extra large cheese pizza, a salad, 3 meatballs, 2 lemonades and a glass of wine for under $40, including tip.

We drove on, the kids in the back playing with stickers and coloring books until twilight. Then, after they finished watching the Wiggles on our portable DVD player, the car was completely dark and they finally conked out.

And Josh kept driving. Our goal was to make it halfway to Harrisburg on the first day, and we accomplished that, checking into a Red Roof Inn outside of Cleveland at midnight. Spoiled by the nice places I get to stay when traveling for work, I don't ordinarily stay at truly budget motels, but the TripAdvisor reviews for this particular Red Roof Inn reassured me that it was secure and spotlessly clean (if possessing no other merits). It was a fine place to pass 8 hours, sleeping and showering and moving on.

Friday we hit up a Caribou Coffee for caffeine, muffins and oatmeal, which we enjoyed in the car. The kids kept themselves busy with Road Trip Bingo, stickers, iPod Touch games and yet more DVDs. The kid-sized animal headphones we purchased for them to use with the iPods and DVD player were worth every penny because Josh and I could enjoy our tunes instead of sound bleed from The Princess and the Frog.

We had lunch at a truly mediocre Mexican restaurant in Somerset, PA (yeah, I know) and made it to my high school best friend's parents' house in Harrisburg just after 3pm. Our kids ran wild together until dinnertime, but they were so over-excited and over-tired that clothes were coming off and faces were getting kicked.

We left and drove over to our hotel, a Candlewood Suites unit I'd booked online and pre-paid. They "upgraded" us to a King suite (with a handicapped-accessible shower), which boasts a separate bedroom with a king-sized bed for me to share with my children while Josh sleeps on the pull-out couch in the living room. There is also a full kitchen, free wireless and laundry, a gym and an indoor pool. Altogether pretty nice for $112 a night.

Today we're going to tour the Turkey Hill ice cream factory before meeting up with Josh's aunt and uncle (who live in Harrisburg) and his parents, who are driving up for the afternoon.

Social media makes everything better

Thank you to BING Social Search for sponsoring my post about social media. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

104 people wished me a happy birthday on Facebook this week. I also got one e-greeting card (Thanks, Mom) and just two old fashioned paper cards in the mail. Some scoff that Facebook birthday wishes somehow "don't count" because the social networking site dutifully reminds us and writing a message on someone's wall takes mere seconds. But getting a constant scroll of shout-outs from former colleagues, high school classmates, roller derby gals and people from my synagogue who otherwise would never celebrate with me? Well, that they thought about me at all on my birthday felt pretty awesome, really.

Now that everyone and their mother are on Facebook, some are saying interest has peaked and people are going to start disabling their accounts (or at least going dormant in order to get through finals or a new business pitch). But while I have no doubt Facebook will eventually evolve or get replaced by something altogether different, social media overall is here to stay. Not because we desperately want to see our long-lost friends' newborn baby pictures or get links to funny Daily Show episodes, but because it's useful.

Imagine for a minute you need a plumber. A massage therapist. Or a babysitter. Once upon a time that meant "letting your fingers do the walking" or calling up all your friends and neighbors for a recommendation. Now I don't have to set aside half a day for leaving voice mails or hope that the roofer with the biggest Yellow Pages ad is honest; I can look for detailed reviews and feedback on him--as well as massage therapists, dermatologists and hair removal specials--on Angie's List and Yelp. When I need a babysitter, I check Sittercity. When I'm planning a vacation, I use TripAdvisor. Job seekers have LinkedIn, photography enthusiasts connect on Flickr and parents can look research schools on a variety of websites. Even recipe websites have gone social--on Foodily, you can connect with your friends and see which recipes they've enjoyed.

Facebook and Twitter might be time-sucks and a drain on my personal productivity, but social media has saved me money, research time and frustration by giving me instant access to the recommendations of friends and strangers alike.

Is Homemade Pizza Company as good as homemade?

Plain pizza for the kids

If you're wondering if Chicago's own Homemade Pizza Company's pizzas are as good as homemade, the answer is that it depends on what your standard of homemade is.

If "homemade" means a Trader Joe's pizza crust, jarred sauce, shredded mozzarella and a half-hearted attempt at toppings, than yes. Emphatically yes.

If you're talking homemade by my foodie husband, who cultivates his own dough the day before, uses a pizza stone in an ultra-hot oven and has a collection of cookbooks expressly dedicated to the craft of pizza-making, then no. Not really.

That said, my two girls, 3 and 6, wolfed down the entire plain cheese pizza pictured here by themselves. I've never seen them put away so much food.

But most busy moms don't have a stay at home dad/gourmet chef at their disposal (although believe it or not I am close friends with one other girl in my lucky position), and for them Homemade Pizza Company is a terrific option. Miles better than delivery. Or DiGiorno.

Disclosure: Homemade Pizza Company invited me to review their pizza and provided me with a $40 gift card. 

My birthday, my way

I kicked off my birthday celebration one day early by attending the Gilty Moms party put on by Gilte Children at the Trump Terrace. Check out the picture of the Wrigley building and the lake beyond. That is small portion of the stunning view 210 degree view from the 16th floor terrace at Trump Tower.

It was a beautiful evening, I got to see many of my favorite mom bloggers and I brought along two of my colleagues as well.

Gilty Moms was followed by my book club meeting, which interesting enough also includes a few good bloggers. We put our discussion of Wuthering Heights to bed early (no one liked it) so we could discuss Weiner's weiner and the perils of helicopter parenting.

On my actual birthday, I arrived at work to a decorated office and took breaks to enjoy the Facebook wall posts. I also used GrouponNow for the first time to treat myself to a $26 mani-pedi.

In the afternoon, my awesome team took me to Starfruit for my favorite treat. Aren't we a good-looking group?

But the day just kept getting better. Our friends Jay and Kate joined us at graham elliott for one of the best dinners I've ever had. Although we chose the 5 course tasting menu with wine pairings, we somehow ended up eating the entire experience menu, all 10 delicious courses. Highlights for me were the the truffle parmesan popcorn that arrives with your menu, the deconstructed caesar salad, the charred octopus, the jidori chicken and the lemon cake. I liked it better than Alinea.

My favorite Android apps

It's official, I'm in love. I kicked my Blackberry Curve to the curb and bought not-matching Android phones for myself and Josh. He got the T-Mobile MyTouch 4G and I got the Samsung Galaxy S. They're both great devices, but while his boasts the exclusive "Google genius" button, mine's lighter, sleeker and overall a touch more intuitive.

Also? It looks pretty much exactly like an iPhone.

Because I'm never one to dip my toe into anything, I dove right into the Android market and read through various online forums to customize my phone with the most useful free apps. Here's my list of grown-up apps. Although I've downloaded a few games for the kidlets, I'll get to those on a future post:

American Airlines: This app lets me check in, get a virtual boarding pass and access gate information and arrival times. I can also track my miles.
Amazon Appstore for Android: Every day, a new paid app is offered for free.
Calendar: While I lost the ability to view my Lotus Notes work calendar without logging in, my Android phone seamlessly synchs my online Google calendar with the calendar on my phone. You can also set it up to synch with Yahoo! and Facebook events.
Chase and USAA: Both of my banks have well-designed mobile banking apps to make it easy to deposit the odd check and make sure a credit card refund went through.
Facebook, Yahoo Mail and Gmail: Duh, I don't think these apps need any selling. But suffice it to say they are much better experiences than I had on the Blackberry.
Groupon: Redeeming Groupons right from your phone means you don't need to print them out and remember them before heading over to, say, Blue Max for lunch on a Saturday. Groupon's mobile platform is also perfectly suited for their newer offering, GrouponNow.
Key Ring: I stored all of my shopper and membership cards, including my library card on my phone, so they'll always be with me.
Kindle for Android: I don't have a Kindle, but if I did, I could pick up my reading materials right where I'd left off. Instead, I'm using this app to download public domain children's literature like fairy tales and fables so that I can read to my children before bed when we're on the road.
Gas Buddy: Locate the closest, cheapest gas.
Google Maps: I arrived in New York late on Sunday, walked out of my hotel and fired up Google Maps. I turned on the "restaurants" layer and up popped a dozen places within two blocks' walk. I could click to read reviews and ended up enjoying a delicious meal at The Fig & Olive, just a couple of minutes' walk from the Gansevoort.
NPR News: Read or listen to NPR stories, or create a playlist to listen to later.
NY Times: Even with the paywall, you can always check out the top stories.
Skype: I kid you not, 15 minutes after I'd logged into Skype, my mom called me. From Australia. On my mobile phone. For free.
TripAdvisor: Everything you love about TripAdvisor, on the road with you when you travel. You'd better believe I'll be looking up hotel reviews when we're looking for a place to stop between Chicago and Harrisburg.
Words with Friends: It's like Facebook Scrabulous (remember that?), but always with you. My cousin Mike is kicking my ass with words I've never even heard of, but at least it will take him all week to win.

Boom! Rumble, rumble, rumble...

Last night I got home from my board meeting around 10:15. I headed to bed shortly thereafter, but my mind was racing.The iced Thai coffee I'd had just after lunchtime was still coursing through my veins, making me think of concepts I needed to write, conversations I needed to have and apps I wanted to download for my just-ordered Android phone.

Finally, after 45 minutes of tossing and turning and mind OM-ver mattering, I'd finally chilled out. But just as my muscles relaxed, a fierce wind started blowing. It was so forceful the house started to creak. I was sure my 3 year old was awake and pacing on the noisy floorboards, preparing to cry, but when I peeked into her room, she was sound asleep.

Cue the lightning. Then and rain. And thunder. Oh, so much thunder! I slept fitfully for a couple of hours before A really did wake up and cry out in fear.

So 2 poor hours of sleep in my own, comfortable bed were followed by 2 1/2 hours of poor sleep next to A in on her thin twin mattress. And it was still dark, thundering and absolutely pouring all through my morning commute.

There was one sliver lining, though. A told me--for the first time--about a dream she'd had:

"I dreamed last night that I was in a big hallway. There were lots of [silver] buttons in the big hallway. And every time you pressed a button, there'd be a big noise like thunder!"

Also? The temperature dropped 40 degrees from 95 yesterday to a chilly and damp 55 today.

The Derby Lite CupQuake

I took Z with me to the Derby Lite Oak Park CupQuake last night, where we sampled 20 (!) delicious cupcakes. I felt a little guilty leaving so many bites behind at an event organized to benefit the Oak Park River Forest Food Pantry, but there's a limit to how much red velvet, toasted pecan buttercream, Dulce de Leche Tres Leches and Black Forest cupcakes two gals can put away, even with plenty of milk, coffee and water on hand.

How do you like that button?

It was fun to see so many derby girls out of their gear. Turns out most of us look pretty good without our helmets on! And Z got to bond with fellow skate Mariah Scary's 1st grade daughter ahead of our Sunday morning outdoor skate. This morning they were delighted to see each other again and they rode bikes and hung out on the playground at Concordia University while we moms skated around and around the campus' 1 mile perimeter, doing our damndest to burn off all those cupcakes.

The remainders

The winning cupcake was the Red Hot Derby Lite, a brownie cupcake finished with strawberry icing and a giant fresh strawberry created by one of the skaters, Violet Femme.

The yard sale gods were smiling

Today was our block's sort-of-annual 3 block sale, and since I'd been collecting outgrown clothes, toys and various other items on the front porch for weeks, I was set up and ready to sell when the early birds started arriving--about 15 minutes before the official start time of 8am.

The girls were keyed up with excitement. Not only did I promise them that they could keep the bulk of the proceeds from the toys sold, I let them set up a lemonade and farmers' market doughnuts stand right in front of the house. Doughnut sales were kind of a flop, but with the high heat and humidity, we went through 2 full pitchers of Trader Joe's lemonade (made from frozen concentrate). Add a sidewalk full of friendly neighbors and their unwanted stuff to the reality of making real money, and Z couldn't decide what was more appealing, selling or buying.

Ultimately I made about $140 and the girls grossed $14 a piece. More importantly, almost everything I put out sold--which means I didn't have to haul a trunkful of junk to the Brown Elephant.

Remembering my own childhood thrill of buying something with the money I'd earned, I offered the girls a trip to Geppetto's to spend their cash. A bought a hair bow and a kite and Z bought an Only Hearts doll.

It went to well I'm almost looking forward to next year. When, no doubt, it will rain.