Zoe and Hank, then and now

Hank and Zoe, then.

At the end of a perfect Father's Day (presents, pool and movie date), as Josh relaxed with the fellow dads at a packed Scoville Park concert, I watched Zoe and Hank run around together.

And I realized they've been running around together for half their lives. Right then and there I decided to replicate a wonderful photo I took of them in the same exact place 3 years ago, when they were younger than Ada is now.

As I snapped it, they suggested I take their photo again when they're 11. And when they're 14, 17 and 20.

Hank and Zoe, now

We're moving!

I posted back in March about our adventures in house hunting. We weren't having much luck finding a bigger (but not too much bigger) house with a master bathroom, four bedrooms, an open kitchen/family room and a finished basement. In Oak Park. In our school district.

So we're building one! Sort of.

Baronger Group, the same guys who own Oak Park Bath and Kitchen, buy and renovate houses in Oak Park. Typically, those houses are mid-to-high end gut rehabs designed on spec and flipped onto the MLS. But they've also shopped their projects to local realtors. Get in early, and you can customize the house to your specifications. It turns out Baronger Group was about to buy a rundown bungalow in the neighborhood we wanted to be in. It's on a quiet street. A 2 1/2 block walk to the elementary school. A 3 block walk to the train. 

I called every one of the references Baronger Group sent me, toured a completed house and drove around Oak Park spying on other houses they've rehabbed before I felt confident enough to sign on the dotted line (and make a down payment).

It doesn't look like much now, but it should be my dream house come November!

Wanting to see it "before," we toured the bungalow with Baronger Group owner Mitch Goldstein this morning. Zoe and Ada were horrified. The greasy wallpaper, the filthy pea green sculptured carpet, the dark and frankly scary basement...they wanted to get out of there! It's hard to imagine that this place will be a two story house with every contemporary creature comfort: air conditioning, modern appliances, gleaming hardwood floors...and a enough bathrooms for everyone in the family to go at the same time!

Last Friday we met with an architect to finalize the floor plans. I'll share those and the 3-D renderings I've been promised soon.

In the meantime, we've been readying our 3 bedroom, 1.5 bath American Four Square for the market. Given that we can't move until our new house is complete, we probably won't list it until August or September. But in case you know of anyone who'd love to move to a fantastic location in Oak Park (walking distance to the Blue Line, Sen Sushi and more), here's a sneak peek at our listing photos.

Saturday at the Art Institute with Ada

Thanks to my company's corporate sponsorship of the Art Institute, I was able to go for free on Saturday. My plan had been to bring the whole family, but Zoe was recovering from a sleepover the night before and was super grumpy.

Ada was thrilled to have me all to herself, and I marveled at her stamina as she walked from our house to the train, the train to the Art Institute, up and down the halls of the museum, through Millennium Park and Daley Plaza and back home. I earned my 15k step badge on my Fitbit, and my legs are twice as long as hers!

When we arrived at the Art Institute, Ada marched up to the information desk and asked the way to Mary Cassatt, one of her favorite painters. We looked through all the American Art galleries and then headed to the Modern Wing, where there were a bunch of family activities, including self-portraiture.


After the Art Institute, we checked out the crowds at Millennium Park's fountain and Cloud Gate--or, as Ada calls it "The Big Bean."


We heard a dozen different languages as people snapped pictures and marveled over our beautiful city. We even got to see a Quincenera party pose for portraits with the Bean in the background.

Ada graduates from Montessori school

WSMSGraduation from almaklein on Vimeo.
It's the end of an era. After six straight years with a child enrolled at WSMS (including 2 during which I served as board co-president), we're leaving this amazing community. At the Graduation picnic, Ada and her fellow kindergarteners sang (see the snippet above) before getting their white "Graduate" t-shirts and handing out slices of cake (all school traditions).

Ada and her teacher for the past 3 years, Ms Orfei

Ada upon entering preschool

We've made our best friends among the parents at WSMS, so moving on is definitely bittersweet. But Ada's looking forward to summer camp and then first grade, and she'll be at the same school as her big sister for two whole years before they're on completely different schedules again.

I'd like to thank my Mom

My mom and dad

The longer I mother my two girls, the more I appreciate my own mother. So, in honor of Mother's Day, here's a list of things I'd like to thank her for. I'm not my mother's spitting image and our personalities, career paths and lifestyles are pretty different, but there are quite a few ways I'm doing my best to follow her example.

Thank you, Mom for...

1. Cooking from scratch and expecting everyone to show up for dinner.
2. Never once mentioning your weight or dieting.
3. Teaching me how to write. And rewrite.
4. Reading to me long past when I could read to myself.
5. Enrolling me in piano lessons and renting me a cello despite my utter lack of musical talent.
6. Making sure I was capable of cooking, laundry and checkbook balancing before I left home.
7. Attending almost all my high school plays and yet skipping 90% of my athletic games, and refusing to feel guilty about it.
8. Talking about how much you enjoyed your job.
9. Exposing me to the arts.
10. Never once apologizing for letting the grownups have more fun.

My overly personal and specific Mother's Day gift guide

One of the "perks" of being a mom blogger (even a lazy, part-time blogger like myself) is the onslaught of unsolicited Mother's Day gift guide pitches for items I would never in a million years wish for or recommend anyone else buy.

But what makes me happy may very well work for another like-minded mom and I'm not above dropping hints, so here's my highly personalized guide to Mother's Day gifts.

1. A new handbag. I am not one of those amazing women who coordinates her handbag to her outfits. I pick a bag and I wear. It. Out. My current crossbody bag, purchased at an art fair last November, is getting pretty dingy, so I'm eyeing a new one. Like this hippy-chic turquoise bag on Etsy or this orange crossbody from Fossil. Tip: don't try and substitute a cute tote for a handbag; a girl like me needs lots of pockets--interior and exterior--to keep things like my CTA card, my keys and my phone organized.

2. A fitbit. A growing group of friends and relatives have been singing the praises of the fitbit, which is basically a high tech pedometer. It tracks your steps and uploads them to your computer or mobile device and the information can be synched with an app like MyFitnessPal so you can track calories in against calories out. I'm not trying to lose weight, but I find that quantifying what I'm doing (or not doing) is highly motivating. Now if the mom you're buying for is sensitive about her size, you may want to tread lightly here. Either talk in general terms about the movement toward Quantified Self to gauge her interest or buy 2 fitbits and promise to compete for the most activity.

3. You can't go wrong with a highly useful and tasteful accessory like small gold hoop earrings or a striped summer weight scarf.

4. And you definitely can't go wrong with a gift certificate for a mani-pedi or massage (Well-Come Spa is my favorite place in Oak Park). Better yet, book the appointment and arrange to take the kids elsewhere while mom gets pampered. I don't believe I've ever let a gift certificate expire, but I've heard some martyr moms have. Don't let it happen!

If my overly specific ideas don't appeal, let me suggest you shop at my friend Alana's brand new Nest Vintage Modern storefront in LaGrange for an amazing selection of vintage inspired home and personal goods. Or memorialize your mom's best advice on a custom piece of art from my cousin Ann's new mixed media Etsy store. 

The Vidal Sassoon Pop-Up Salon is coming!

Once in great a while my blog and my job intersect, and this week is one of those times. I've been helping work on the relaunch of Vidal Sassoon hair care, and one of the ways we're bringing the brand to life is by bringing actual Vidal Sassoon pop-up salons to unexpected places—like your local drug or grocery store—and surprising women with a transformative hair styling experience.

We're doubling down on the Chicago event this Thursday to make it extra special, and to help get the word out I was able to engage my friends Sara and Caitlin from 2 Moms Media (both of whom I met through this here blog). They are helping Vidal Sassoon throw a VIP preview party and promote the event. Follow along on Instagram and Twitter with the hashtag #VSChi or better yet, come to the flagship Walgreens at the corner of State & Lake between noon and 7pm this Thursday and get your hair done by a genuine Vidal Sassoon stylist.

I'm so excited for this event because I feel passionately about hair and its power to make women feel good about themselves, and this pop-up salon has really dramatized that for so many women. Discovering the Curly Girl Method made me love my hair for the first time, and cutting my curls super short a few months ago still garners me near-daily compliments (thank you Sonya!). But whether or not anyone says a word about my appearance, how I feel about my day is closely tied to how I feel I look. And how I feel about my look is at least 50% related to my hair.

Oliver! review -- It's like Annie with boys!

I've written before about my girls' obsession with musical theatre. It hit fever pitch this year after I took them to see OPRF's 110-person production of Les Miserables and Fenwick's The Wiz.

But after treating myself to The Book of Mormon (not for kids!) I wanted to check out more professional family-friendly fare in addition to our steady diet of high school and middle school productions.

So last Sunday Ada and I attended Oliver! at the Drury Lane Theatre in Oakbrook Terrance (near the mall). "Why are there so many grandmas and grandpas here?" asked Ada, as we entered the sparkling, Vegas-like lobby. Indeed, the matinee audience was at least three-quarters retirees, with the rest composed of families with elementary-aged children.

Within the theatre, we found plush seats, great sight lines and well-calibrated sound. And when the lights went down, we were captivated by a very solid, very professional production. Oliver!, as you might surmise, is based on the story of Oliver Twist. Even my five year old identified the parallels between this story of a poor young orphan from long ago who discovers his real family quite by accident and that of a certain red-haired orphan and her "Hard-Knock Life." While I'd never seen the musical before, I recognized songs like "Food Glorious Food" and "Consider Yourself."

Ada and I were both impressed by the kid actors. Oliver is played by a very talented 11 year old from Wisconsin, but the Artful Dodger and all the boys from the workhouse and Fagin's gang were great and ranged in age from 7 (maybe younger?) to 14.

In addition to all the young talent, this production of Oliver! is a family affair. The show is directed and choreographed by Berwyn resident Rachel Rockwell, whose son Jake Helm plays one of Fagan's orphans and whose mother Glory Kissel has the role of the grandfather's housekeeper Mrs. Bedwin. And that's not all: the director's husband is the sound designer and her son's godfather is an actor and associate director.

As much as we enjoyed it, Oliver! ticket prices start at $35 and no kids under 5 are permitted, so if you're looking for a specifically child-friendly, low-cost show, you're better off waiting for Suessical, which opens at Drury Lane on April 24 and features $12 tickets and $22 character brunch + show packages.

Mortality

This isn't a post about Roger Ebert, may his memory be a blessing.

One of Ada's Montessori classmates--the younger sister of one of her best friends--has leukemia. She was diagnosed a month ago and the chemo is already working. It's not my daughter, but it hit so close to home. To know she's virtually guaranteed to recover--something we learned yesterday--I can finally exhale.

Mostly. Because one of the risks of getting older is that mortality sneaks up around every corner. I've had 3 friends experience stillbirth. Another one's baby died of SIDS. Brain cancer claimed a colleague. And a heart attack took my dad at 55. And while Aria is going to kick cancer's butt, I have another friend whose child's brain cancer may prove incurable. It's awful and terrifying and heartbreaking, and all I know how to do is send food and the occasional awkward message of support.

Ada, Grandpa and his beloved cat

And then there's my father-in-law. He's been diagnosed with  posterior cortical atrophy, a variant of Alzheimer's disease. He's only 70, but suddenly seems much older. We visited with him--and over a dozen other relatives--last week for spring break.

Josh with John, 23

And while it was sad and  frustrating to see such an accomplished physician requiring sticky notes to remember the day of the week and his favorite TV channels, life marches onward and upward. The cousins I cradled as babies are enrolled in college. One's graduating next month!

Playing "rich people" in a creek

Josh's cousin, whose bar mitzvah I attended a decade ago, is working in finance and living with roommates and seems like such a nice, well-adjusted grown up. My mother is semi-retired. And perhaps most importantly, my children are potty trained book readers who can buckle their own seat belts, carry their own suitcases and disappear for whole hours in a land of make-believe.

Does this mean I'm a grown-up too? And if so, why do I still feel like an impostor half the time?

Adventures in house hunting

A few weeks ago I come across a house for sale listing that really appealed to me. I emailed my friend and neighbor Michelle, and she offered to show it (as well as a nearby house) to me and Josh that weekend.

We fell for the house--the first one we'd looked at since we bought ours almost 10 years ago--but felt we were being crazy. You can't just buy the first thing you look at! Especially when you haven't even decided to start looking! 

So we quickly toured every other house in our price range on the south side of Oak Park. We saw everything from an obscenely large, spanking new 6 bedroom McMansion in a grimy, lonely corner of the village to a bank owned house where the roof was literally caving in. We saw lovely decks and ugly bathrooms and walk-in closets and crazy, fancy granite kitchens that were apparently designed without the advice of an architect. Each house made us like the first house even more, and we finally put an offer on it. Well below asking, but not an insultingly low ball offer.

We heard back fairly quickly that the seller was going to hold steady on her price and was only offering us $2k below list. So we walked. And honestly, we felt a little relieved. We wouldn't have to change elementary schools. I could keep looking for a house with a mudroom. We decided we'd focus exclusively on our own elementary school district. Then, 12 hours later, we heard from our realtor again. The seller wants to meet us halfway, price-wise. We waffled. The price was close to what we were willing to pay. But we'd emotionally already let go. So we withdrew.

I've seen a few houses since, and nothing comes close to being as nice as that first house. Heck, most aren't as nice as our current house, which we've put so much work into.

In the meantime, I'm kind of enjoying the hunt. Walking through open houses is fascinating. The flip jobs are so clean and modern and empty, while the downsizers are museums of 1978 kitsch (one had a pink hair washing sink built into the dressing room vanity!). And then there's the moving-out-of-towners who should probably take down some of their religious iconography and the short sale and foreclosure listings that seem so tempting online...but in person you see the sloping floors, cracked stucco and crumbling walls.

My new hair cut and other things I've forgotten to blog

Last Saturday I went to get my hair cut and my highlights touched up and I felt like doing something drastic. I'd pinned this picture of a young Meg Ryan and I asked Sonya if it would be crazy to go that short.

She applauded my nerve and assured me it would be cute. And if not? Hair grows back.

Despite all the compliments I received from my friends (my children hated it), it took me a couple of days to feel comfortable in my new do. But by Thursday I was really feeling it and I updated my profile pic on all my social networks. This--for those of you who haven't seen it yet--is me now.

One of the fun things about short hair is how much emphasis I can put on accessories. Here I'm wearing a silk scarf my Grandma Lorraine gave me, dangly earrings that used to get tangled in my hair, and a cut little barrette that the girls somehow haven't stolen and lost (yet).

What else haven't I blogged? I went out for cocktails at Hala Kahiki (also known as the mysterious tiki bar on the way to O'Hare) with some girlfriends Saturday night, followed by cosmic bowling at Mont Clare Lanes.

We celebrated Josh's birthday on Monday with 3 other families at Gaetano's. It was family night, which means 8 adults got to enjoy each other's company, great food and half-price wine in the front room while our combined 9 children were fed and entertained in the back.

Ada lost another tooth and Zoe revealed her utter disbelief in the tooth fairy by authoring a tiny note from the fairy and adding one of her own Littlest Pet Shop figurines to the dollar I was putting under Ada's pillow.

The girls made all their own valentines for their classmates using virtually the exact same craft supplies I did back in the day--heart-shaped doilies, construction paper, glitter, glue and stickers. Because of the size of her Montessori class, Ada had to make over 30 valentines--each one featuring a different design and sentiment. None, however, in any way resembled the high design of the valentines I was seeing on Pinterest. I love this one Whitney made with her kindergartener, but candy's forbidden so glitter, glue and lace it is.

Things fall into place

Earlier this week I was in no mood to blog. I was working until 9:30pm on a high profile project, Ada was coughing through the night, and both girls were waking up cranky and fighting through breakfast. I was pissy and tired had no energy to tidy the clutter overtaking the house. I was also PMSing.

But the winds shifted, as they always do. Of course, this time the shifting winds brought an arctic chill to Chicago (I'm talking a windchill of -14F), but they also brought amazing client feedback at work, glowing reports from my kids' teachers (emails from Ada's directress and a parent-teacher conference with Zoe's teacher), and a corresponding lift to my mood. Which was then further improved by a 2 hour Derby Lite practice last night and a free lunch at work today.

In other news, Ada has suddenly grown up! She lost all her baby fat, learned to read, add and subtract and bravely got her ears pierced. Now I'm getting photos from her teacher of her writing stories and teaching her classmates about Pablo Picasso. At home she was still a little wild and annoying (what is with the whiny voice), so I taught her finger knitting, which she quickly picked up. It gives her something quiet to focus on and doesn't leave her manic like the TV does.

Australia Part 2: The City

Previously, Australia Part 1: The Farm

We left my sister's family's farm on December 29th, Eleanor's 35th birthday. We got into Maroubra (a diverse beach suburb to the south of Sydney) in the afternoon, picking up a wholly inadequate birthday cake at the local Greek bakery on the way. (This chocolate-vanilla layer cake was literally the only disappointing food we ate during our entire trip--too bad it cost a whopping $50!) The kids immediately ran outside to play with my sister's Australian niece and nephew, Sylvie and Finn.

Eleanor and her family live in a two flat above Simon's twin sister Kate and her family (her two children are about the same age as mine), which makes for very close, happy cousins. Kate offered to babysit that first night so that we could celebrate Eleanor's birthday in style.

At Icebergs for Eleanor's birthday

Simon took us all to a super swanky restaurant overlooking Bondi Beach, where we had delicious food, craft cocktails and two memorable views: the stunning beach and the happening Saturday night crowd looking to see and be seen.

Tom and Ada

The next day Kate took her family to the farm, so we moved downstairs into their unit, which came with their very affectionate cat Tom. Although there was enough room for us in Eleanor's apartment so long as two kids slept on the floor, it was more comfortable spreading out a bit.

The highlight of our visit was probably our trip to Sydney's northernmost beach, Palm Beach. Eleanor and Simon's friends invited us all up for the day, as they were finishing up a weeklong rental in a beautiful vacation home accessible via an inclinator (yes, that blew the kids' minds). It was chilly when we set off from Maroubra, but by the time we'd eaten a lovely lunch, the sun was up and it was hot enough to hit the beach. Our superb hosts (one of whom is the grandson of the Danish architect who designed the Sydney Opera House) dug out swimsuits and sunblock for everyone.

Yep, all borrowed swimsuits

Another memorable day was the Wednesday we dropped off Zoe, Ada and Eliza at a one-day gymnastics summer camp and headed to the inner west suburb of Newtown, a sort of hipster mecca with the arty grit of Wicker Park. Imagine a long street full of Thai restaurants, record shops, vintage clothing stores and gelato stands. Eleanor took her youngest to Wreck-It Ralph, freeing Josh and I up to stroll around and eat (Thai food and gelato, naturally).

We had two Klein-only days when we left my sister and her family in peace and took the bus into town to do touristy things. We visited the The Rocks Discovery museum, Hyde Park Barracks Museum and took pictures of the Sydney Opera House from the roof of the MCA. We also spent a staggering $150 on tickets to the zoo (including the cost of the ferry boat and sky tram ride there). Yes, it's a very nice zoo with astonishing views, but our entry fee was nearly 50% more than the cost of a year's membership to the Brookfield Zoo near our home. When they say Sydney's expensive, they're not kidding.

This is the view from the zoo

Although seeing the New Year's Eve fireworks a day before North America rang in the New Year was pretty thrilling, the grand finale, on the very last day, was a bar hopping excursion that Simon planned. We started at the Sydney Opera House, where we had VIP tickets to the opening night of a new Mexican pop-up bar that Simon's construction firm built. Eating tacos, and sipping margaritas in the shadow of the Sydney Opera House, with the Harbour Bridge in the background is surreal enough, but add in a mariachi band and faux Mexicans wearing ponchos and fake mustaches while they walked around on stilts? It was beyond weird, and that was before Eleanor and I spotted a group of plastic surgery enhanced women whose bottoms were literally spilling out of their sequined short-shorts.

Eleanor at El Loco at the House

From the Opera House, we headed to a handful of bars and restaurants that Simon built for a prominent developer. My favorite was an underground joint that channeled a 1930's American speakeasy.

Australia Part 1: The Farm

My apologies for getting these posts up so late. We returned to the U.S. late Saturday night, I co-hosted a pizza party at the synagogue on Sunday and we all returned to work and school on Monday. Between severe jet-lag, book club, roller derby and the girls' activities, there wasn't a moment to spare.

We left for Australia right after school let out on Friday, December 21st. I'd taken the day off work, and in the morning we attended Zoe's elementary school holiday sing. We got to the airport around 4pm for our 6pm flight and sailed through security.

Then our flight was delayed and our gate changed. And changed again. I was anxious about making our connection to Sydney as we only had a one hour layover at LAX. It was tight, but we made it.

Our luggage didn't. But kudos to QANTAS, which not only boasts the nicest, newest jumbo jets ever (complete with free wine and liquor, decent food, nice flight attendants and more TV and movies than we could ever watch!), but a luggage service that cheerfully coordinated the delivery of our two checked bags to a farm four hours south of Sydney 24 hours after we did.


My sister and her family share a weekend farm with her mother-in-law Sally and her brother and sister-in-law (who, incidentally, also live downstairs from them in the city). It's near a popular vacation area halfway between Sydney and Melbourne, so Eleanor was anxious for us to hit the road ahead of the Christmas traffic. Even though we left Chicago on December 21st, it was the morning of the 23rd when we arrived, so we split into two cars (they have a Volvo station wagon and a 4-door Toyota pickup truck) and hit the road right away.

It was cool and raining lightly when we arrived, but the farm still wowed me. So pretty and pastoral with its trees, paddocks, pond and creek. They keep a flock of sheep, a small herd of cows and two alpacas (whose job it is to keep the sheep safe from predators). In addition to the farm animals, we saw plenty of wild wallabies, a snake and a couple of wombats. And lots of poop. Cow patties, sheep pellets and wombat poo everywhere. The farm is off the grid, with solar power providing the electricity (although there is a generator for running the dishwasher on cloudy days) and a rainwater collection system for the taps. The pond near the house is man made and there in case of bush fire (although the animals seemed to enjoy drinking from it).

Trimming the "tree"

We've never celebrated Christmas with the girls, but they quickly got into the spirit, helping decorate a tree my brother in law Simon felled and oohing and ahhing over the items "Santa" left for them in their stockings. Even Zoe, who is fairly certain Santa Claus isn't real, let herself get swept up in her cousin Eliza's fantasy, saying "How can Santa be our parents? You and Eleanor would never buy us Coco-Pops cereal!"

My favorite part of any celebration is the food, and the Aussies didn't disappoint. We had two Christmas meals, Sally's giant glazed ham for lunch and Eleanor's roast turkey for dinner.

While in the Milton/Ulladulla area, we visited a number of beaches, ate more than a few fish and chips (balking at the $2 surcharge for ketchup, which they call "tomato sauce"), and had a cookout and picnic in one of the farm's paddocks (complete with a swing that Simon jerry-rigged for the kids).

No booster seats or seat belts back here!

But the highlight of our trip was probably the day that--after clearing the road of some trees Simon had cut down--the 9 of us piled into the truck and drove on the most hair-raisingly steep and bumpy dirt track. All Kleins were in the back of the pickup, hanging on for dear life as two wet dogs and a chain saw slid back and forth against our feet and legs. We also got to climb through a crystal clear stream, which my kids fjorded naked except for their Keens. If travel is about getting away from your regular life, I think we were successful.

Picnicking in the paddock

I tried paddle boarding

Up next: Sydney!

Not another soul on this beach

Diet sodas are safe for kids: Challenging conventional wisdom at the Coca-Cola Balanced Living Workshop

Listening and learning

It doesn't take a marketing background to understand that an event called the "Coca-Cola Balanced Living Workshop" might be designed to publicize the company's healthy living efforts and counteract the backlash against super-sized sugary sodas.

But while I do try to limit my and my family's consumption of full-calorie sodas, I'm no purist. I like Coke Zero, Cherry Coke (Zero and the regular stuff) and Honest Tea, and I've been known to let my kids enjoy the occasional Sprite or Sprite Zero when we're out to eat.

I attended the workshop with an open mind, ready to listen to the red, white and black-clad Coke employees share their point of view on high fructose corn syrup, artificial sweeteners and carbonation (apparently in some cultures it is blamed for cellulite) before we got to the good stuff-- one-on-one consultations with a dietitian and personal trainer and a workout session with Megan Fox's trainer, Harley Pasternak. Look for the smartwater product placement in his upcoming workouts on Xbox Kinect and Wii.

On the mats with Harley

Here's what surprised me: There's an abundance of research into the safety of all of the no-calorie sweeteners used by The Coca-Cola Company, but particularly aspartame, which the dietitians who spoke to us claimed was the most researched food ingredient on earth. According to the science, all are completely safe, even for children. The only concern parents should have with regard to artificially sweetened beverages is that they may end up taking the place of milk, which is important for kids' health.

I was also pleased to learn that The Coca-Cola Company has changed the offerings in their vending machines at schools. My elementary school had a Coke machine in the cafeteria (I still remember seeing the teachers grabbing a Tab before heading off to the teachers' lounge for a cigarette), but in 2006, Coke removed all full-calorie beverages from elementary schools. Today grammar school machines sell water, 8 oz juices (with no added sweeteners) and milk. Middle schools offer the same items at slightly larger sizes, and high schools add in no-calorie and low-calorie drinks. At least half of the available beverages in high schools are to be water, no-calorie, and low-calorie selections.

There was also some conversation about high fructose corn syrup and how it is nutritionally equivalent to cane sugar. But my issue with HFCS has less to do with its health implications and more to do with the evils associated with big corn and the risks of monoculture to our environment.

But enough about Coca-Cola. I also learned a few healthy living tips that had nothing to do with carbonated beverages and bottled teas. My dietitian advised me to drink a glass of chocolate milk immediately after my late evening workouts. She said it has the right refueling mix of protein and carbs  so I don't break down my muscles for energy. I had my first glass after roller derby last Thursday night, and it tasted good too.

She had another great suggestion for fitting in a little calorie-burning activity for those days when I am stuck at my desk from 9 to 5: drink a lot of water and walk 2-3 floors up to use the bathroom. It's genius, really!

Dinner at Boka was a treat

So, in addition to derby and climbing and tracking my weekday diet on a calorie-counting app, I'm drinking more water, wearing a pedometer (a freebie in my Coke goodie bag), taking the stairs more often and filling half my plate with veggies and fruits, as recommended by the USDA's sequel to the Food Pyramid, Choose My Plate. I'm hoping that by starting what could be New Year's resolutions early, I'll make them permanent habits.

I was compensated for my participation in Coca-Cola's Balanced Living Workshop, but my thoughts and views are my own.

All Photos are courtesy of The Coca-Cola Company and Bruce Powell Photography.

Friday, December 14th

Last Friday felt like the end of the world. I heard a bit of the news before heading to the gym for a lunchtime workout, but there, on the treadmill, I looked up and the CBS was reporting live from Connecticut. Even with the sound off, the horror and worry in the faces of parents as they raced to Sandy Hook Elementary School spoke volumes. Tears sprang to my eyes and I had to look away.

Like everyone else I know, I spent the afternoon clicking back and forth from my work to news websites, hungry for details and at the same time sickened by everything I'd read.

I could write more, about how all weekend I kept the news off, and struggled to find the right words to explain to my 3rd grader what had happened. I could talk about the petition I signed asking the White House to make gun control a priority. I could tell you why I refuse to be afraid to send my kids to elementary school. About how intellectually I know they're statistically more likely to die in a car accident, with Mom at the wheel, than as the victim of a shooting rampage; but the fact that there's a any chance of being gunned down in homeroom makes my blood boil.

But I'm not going to write about those things. Instead, I'm going to tell you that my neighbor had a baby girl on Friday, December 14th. Baby Claire came home on Sunday, and this evening Ada and I stopped by with a baby gift and a batch of chocolate chip cookies. We chatted for a few minutes, but the baby was nursing, their toddler son was finishing dinner and I didn't want to intrude. So I came home, bathed Ada and we snuggled on her bed with a new Ramona book.

"Look Mom, my toes," Ada said, spreading her toes apart like a monkey, "I can make my feet like Claire's. Only her feet are so small. So soft. So perfect."

From last to first: a lesson in determination

Zoe tied for first in the all-around in her age group at a gymnastics meet yesterday.

This is a big deal. It was just about a year ago that she participated in her very first meet. I still remember how pumped she was to participate. How much fun she had with her teammates. How big she smiled when her name was called during the award ceremony. And how crushed she was when she realized she had "won" last place in her age bracket.

Ten months later and Zoe has advanced from Level 3 to Level 4. She's on a huge team of 40 girls, aged 7 to 12, who practice 6 hours a week. She's been working so hard, determined to be her best. She isn't the most talented kid at the gym--not by a long shot--but she is dedicated and well-liked for her positive attitude.

That was good enough for us. All we wanted was for her to not be so distracted by our presence at the meet that she'd fall of the beam or backflip onto her head.

We were pleasantly surprised to see her scores--all 8s and 9s--and dumbfounded when she climbed onto the top of the awards podium.*

Of all of the parenting books and blogs I've read, one of the messages that's really stuck with me is that from The Blessing of a Skinned Knee. It's a book about raising self-reliant kids, and it stresses the importance of letting your kids struggle and even fail so that they can ultimately be successful. Zoe's experience with gymnastics is a reflection of this value and it's making me feel like a pretty good parent today.

*I was dumbfounded remotely as I had to leave to go co-host a clothing swap immediately after Zoe's last event. Josh did a great job of keeping me updated via text message.

I can't eat like I used to, so I'm going to the Coca-Cola Balanced Living Workshop

My first climb, 2 months ago

You know how they say your metabolism slows down as you age?

It's true. As I've grown older, my palate has expanded dramatically (I love you sushi, olives, Korean food and hand-crafted cocktails!) while my metabolism has hit the brakes. I live in one of the country's best restaurant cities and with two school-aged kids, hiring a babysitter is no biggie. And yet, I can no longer indulge with abandon.

Yes, I've figured out how to dress to minimize my mummy tummy (wrap dresses and tunic tops are my friends) and I've learned why designer jeans are worth every pretty penny. But the ugly truth is if I'm going to stay the same size, I have to work out more and eat less than I did 10 years ago.

I came to this realization a couple of months ago. My recreational roller derby club reduced weekly practices from 2 nights a week to 1, and I immediately felt the difference 800 unburned calories makes. I started using a calorie counting app on my cell phone to track my food intake and exercise output, and boy is that ever depressing. On the days I couldn't hit the gym, I was lucky if I had 300 calories left before dinnertime! Of course, the upside of knowing exactly how much I'm eating and how little I'm moving is that I have been going to the gym at work a lot more often. I also joined a rock climbing class, which, like roller derby, I genuinely enjoy. I can't say the same for running stairs, Pilates, or doing planks.

I'm also being more thoughtful about the food choices I make, at least during the work week. I've swapped sandwich bread for bagel thins, I'm eating more protein at breakfast, and I'm only enjoying an evening adult drink if I have calories left for it.

And then I undo all my progress on the weekends and holidays. Ugh.

However, it appears help is on the horizon. I was selected to participate in a two-day Coca-Cola Balanced Living Workshop next week. There, I'll get to meet with a dietitian who can help me figure out a less haphazard system for losing a few pounds (and keeping them off) and attend cooking and fitness sessions, where I hope to find some new packable lunch ideas and discover some physical activities that I like as much as climbing and skating.

There's also a focus on family wellness, where no doubt I can feel proud of my gymnast kids' great physical shape and terrible about their horribly picky eating habits. Stay tuned for a full report.

I was compensated for my participation in Coca-Cola's Balanced Living Workshop, but my thoughts and views are my own.

A Thankful Thankgiving

Ada and her friend with post-parade hot chocolates

This Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for...

Living a short train ride away from a world-class city...but one so accessible I can take two 5 year olds and an 8 year old to the Thanksgiving Day parade and immediately score them a "front row" curb seat to the marching bands, giant balloons, pageant queens, miniature horses, acrobats and Irish dancers. Also, my fellow city-dwellers are just so darn nice. When one of the girls whined that she was thirsty, a neighboring spectator--the same one who'd gamely tolerated them leaning against his folding chair every time they got up to fidget--handed over a sealed bottle of water.

Amazing friends who can cook. We joined our friends Jani and Steve and some old friends of theirs for smoked turkey and all the fixings. Josh made handcrafted gin-cranberry-rosemary cocktails and three pies: chocolate chess, sour cream apple crumble and pumpkin. I assembled a charcuterie/cheese board with three kinds of cheese from Whole Foods, olives, cornichons, fig jam, crackers and cured meat. Jani's old friend from Philly made 10 pounds of mashed potatoes, 10 pounds of sweet potato casserole and an almost equally insane quantity of stuffing. Zoe had turkey and 3 helpings of corn. Ada had a bite of turkey and an apple. I ate and drank myself silly.

A community where both of my kids can spend the afternoon at playdates and where we'll run into people we know at the ice rink and the shopping center. (Both happened today.) 

Speaking of our great community, I got to pay it forward a bit today. The phone rang at 9am, and it was a former neighbor who moved to Colorado at year ago. She was in a panic because a realtor was trying to show her house and her tenant was nowhere to be found. She asked me to run over to her house, find the hidden key and let the realtor and a potential buyer into the place. If you're in the market for a beautiful E.E. Roberts home across from Fox Park, it can be yours for $575k! 

And of course I'm thankful for my husband (and his great sense of humor), my job, my health (and health insurance, just in case), my smart girls and the awesome cat who is curled up on my lap and making it quite challenging to type this. I'm thankful for caring and generous parents and in-laws, lifelong friends (like Franny, whom I'm visiting next weekend), and most of all the local friends I love like family. As a foreign service brat who moved a lot as a kid, It was my dream that we would be able to raise our children in a welcoming, stable place where they could form close, long-lasting friendships. I didn't realize how much I would treasure that gift too.