The preparations are set. We’ve left instructions in case of disaster and we’re ready to go. I can barely believe we’re turning it all off and leaving the country. No voicemail. No email. Quality time with the kids. For a week. I’m extremely excited and a bit nervous, as well. Do I know how to relax? I have vague memories, but they are so pale and distant. I hope they come back quickly. Surely, they won’t be here as we take the 3-legged trip on our 12-hour voyage. With 3 kids and an apprehensive hub. But hopefully, when we all see the sun set tomorrow night over the Pacific Ocean in Central America, we’ll find that peaceful, relaxed place within ourselves. I’m ready to try.

I’ll write when I get back. Hopefully, I’ll be full of wonderful insights and observations. But frankly, I’ll be happy to have had the chance to try.

In my experience, it takes 6 years to feel like a part of a new community. We’ve been living here for, hmm let’s see… 6 years in August. And last night, for the first time really, I felt like a part of this community. Don’t misunderstand – I’ve made relationships and formed bonds long before now. But tonight was different.

My youngest asked if we could go to the Purim event at our congregation. It meant going to services, hearing the megillah and seeing a magician. The other kids concurred – they also wanted to go. (I have to stop here to mention that it is unheard of for a kid to ask to go to services. Clearly, our congregtion has their marketing to kids thing downpat!) So we went. For those of you have never been to a Purim celebration, the kids dress up in costumes. Some adults did too, but not so many. The rabbi was a jester. The board president was Queen Esther (that is the new young queen, not the disobedient/independent discarded Queen Vashti). The choir director was Haman. And the cantor was a very scary clown with a huge phallic nose. I really wanted to ask her what her thinking was, but that’s another subject.

My kids were a comedian, Harry Potter, and a dog. I was (unitentionally) one of the Robert Palmer Girls (without the long legs) and Andrew was a regular guy. Services were quick and a little hard to take seriously. Note last paragraph – the rabbi was a jester. The megillah reading was loud. VERY LOUD. The kids make noise whenever the evil Haman’s name is mentioned. And it’s mentioned a lot.

But then came the magician. Michael Rosman. He was more of a comedy performer. The kids and the parents were engrossed. He had volunteers from the audience. He juggled. He balanced. He was funny. He told bimah jokes. He called me up. Shit. (First, he said he was looking for a beautiful volunteer, looked right at me as if he wanted me & then walked away. My kids howled.) So I’m up on stage looking at hundreds of people. This is an integral part of the community I’ve been working so hard to build. I held the knives while Michael got onto the 6′ unicycle. Lots of jokes & a bit of embarrassment. And then I sat down.

Two things happened. 1) I realized that public speaking is easy for me because I don’t know the people. This was terrifying. 2) People I knew and people I didn’t came up to me after the show. Told me how well I did. How it looked fun up there. That they liked my boots. It was warm and I felt like I belonged there.

For the first time.

And I noticed – really noticed – that the boys really feel at home there. They have lots of friends and know all the kids by name. Well, all the kids their ages. There are 500 families, so knowing ALL the kids would be a bit much. But they have clearly found their places. It’s nice.

Today was incredibly busy. I’m finishing several huge projects in preparation for vacation. You know how it is — when you have serious time limitations, everyone wants a piece of you. But that’s fine. I was on a roll. And then the phone rang. It was an old friend and colleague who has lived in Phoenix AZ for years now. Last time we saw each other was when Andrew & I went to The Biltmore for a special long weekend. Ahhh, that was a great weekend. But I digress.

So Stephanie is in town for a few days. “I’ll come by,” she said. “Of course, I can’t wait to see you,” said I. And I couldn’t. I really like Stephanie. And way too much time goes by in between contact – email or in person. But I must say that she sends me some of the most thought-provoking emails of anyone I know. That’s a huge statement. Because I have some really well-read, really charged people in my life. So Stephanie came over. She went with me to the bus stop to get the boys. She had Ring Dings and Yodels with us. (Evidently, she’s been craving Yodels for quite a few years now – how fortunate she showed up at our house!)

We talked. I realized how much I miss talking to her. She has interesting thoughts. But also, I realized something else. I have been collecting people for a long time now. Some people collect crystal, some collect stamps. I collect people. I seek out people with something I don’t have or something I admire and I hold on. I am still in touch with a tremendous number of people from all walks of life. It’s nice. I like to remember what I’ve gained from each relationship and treasure it.

I was talking to a good friend the other day and I mentioned that I am selfish with my time. That I don’t want to hang out with anyone I don’t like. But that’s not really it. Really, I want to be with people who add to my happiness and who feed my soul. People who challenge me and people who are kind. People who encourage me and people who have a sense of humor and a sense of belonging.

And so when I wonder sometimes why I don’t work for a large organization where I can collaborate all day, I have to remind myself that my choices are mine — that choosing with whom to do business and whether to take an unwise break to see an old friend who warms my heart is all my choice. And I like it that way.

I learned a long time ago that people learn by example. I’d like to think that some people who have worked for me over the years leaned something productive. Okay, I said I’d like to think that. I know that I’ve learned a lot about business by working with Andrew and I promise he’s learned a lot about client service by working with me.

I hope my children learn by my example. I exercise regularly. Eat right. Read books. Admittedly, I do some things I don’t want them to emulate. But that’s a conversation for another day. My oldest son started a blog today. He thinks it’s very cool. I wonder where he got that idea.

He had asked before and I said “no.” He has homework and other responsibilities. The kids’ computer does not have Internet access and they are not allowed online without adult supervision. So why did I say “yes” this time?

Last night as he was cuddling up to go to sleep, he asked me about colleges. He wants to go to a small college. One that is less than a two hour drive from me. (who can blame him?) Of course, I did mention that in eight years, a lot can change. But, at this point, he definitely wants to be close to home. So we talked about some of the wonderful schools around here. Johns Hopkins, St. John’s, Franklin & Marshall… But of course, I told him, it helps to know what you want to do when you grow up before deciding on a college. He told me he wants to be a writer. I beamed. I could see his name on the front of a book. IN BIG LETTERS.

And he told me I could have a free copy of all his books. He knows how to make a mother proud. You can see his blog at I Want To Be A Writer.

I have never had trouble making big decisions. I do my homework and I trust my gut. The first house I bought was the first one I saw. Of course, I was strongly encouraged to see about a thousand more. But I bought that first one, and loved it. I run a business, do consulting. I make lots of decisions every day. Big ones and small ones. Rarely do I look back.

But some decisions need additional input. Like haircuts. And which shoes to wear. Now I don’t know why this is. It is baffling to me that I can’t decide whether or not to highlight my hair and, if I do, whom to trust with this all-important life-changing act. Should I call Denise’s guy, Hasan? Susan’s Ilyana? Or Maureen’s Rick? Or close my eyes and pick from the phone book. Or better yet, go to Google Local and try “expert haircolor.” Perhaps I need to find the “best of” list for the area and trust that. But I’ve been burned before. Interestingly enough, Susan was the most stressed out highlight victim I know. (sorry Susan) But when I called the other day to ask her about this momentous decision, she said, “it’s no big deal, you can always get it fixed.” Now that is NOT the Susan I know and love and I fear for her safety. If anyone knows what happened to the real Susan, please email me here.

And though Maureen’s hair looks wonderful, she confessed to wearing a baseball cap the first 2 days. What is going on? These are smart, professional women. I thought I surrounded myself with women of a certain, how should I say it, substance. These are not fluffy girls. But we’re all freaked out about our hair. What is going on?

I have stopped asking Andrew “which shoes look better with this suit,” since he always picks wrong. But what makes me think (although he has some nice qualities I admit) that he has any clue what shoes, jewelry, dress I should wear? It’s not as if he is stopped on the street and complimented on his fashion styling. A better tact might be to ask “do you have a preference,” and choose the opposite.

And I suppose my point (if I have a point) is that we, as women, would go far to trust ourselves a bit more. In business, in fashion, in life. And yes, in hair color.

Some friends of ours picked up some organic New York Strips and Ribeyes for us. We had them for dinner Sunday night. (Andrew wanted steak) The steaks were truly mediocre. Tough tradeoff – no antibiotics, but texture issues. Hmmm. Oh, Duke won the basketball game. So all in all, Andrew had a good day. Steak and basketball.

I was asked to be a judge for a Racial Justice award – organizations and individuals submitted entries describing the work that they have done. I read for hours. I am humbled by these people. People who have spent their lives working toward building real understanding in their communities and who have expended energy beyond description teaching tolerence in so many ways. Study circles, workshops for corporations, learning through the arts, interactive learning with teens and even preschool programs. Some taught leaders how to lead their organizations to be more inclusive. All worked tirelessly to start dialogue. Some in small groups and some in large groups. Some in politically charged directions and some in informal settings.

I learned a few things. First of all, that I am in no position to judge these people. They all have put the betterment of the world before all and who am I to decide who did more? For all I know, a preschooler taught by one could be the president of the United States in 2045. So would that be the individual who has contributed the most? Secondly, I learned that I have a lot to learn about racism. I know it exists. What I don’t know is what to do about it. And lastly, I learned that there is real goodness in the world. I have always known that there are people out there who care for the greater good. But reading the details of lives spent focused on making our world better is inspiring.

I do feel that I give back. I volunteer. I care. But I can do more. And I will.

I get a lot of email. A lot. Really, really a lot. I’ve read many “strategies” for getting it under control from blocking software/permissions software to checking less frequently….. But this article, Tips for Mastering E-mail Overload Harvard Business School’s Working Knowledge, has some of the best suggestions I’ve seen. If we can get our collegues to consider these suggestions, I think we’ll all be better off!

Write better emails
Use a subject line to summarize, not describe.
Give your reader full context at the start of your message.
When you copy lots of people, be clear why each person should care.
Use separate messages rather than bcc (blind carbon copy).
Make action requests clear.
Separate topics into separate e-mails … up to a point.
Combine separate points into one message.
Edit forwarded messages.

Manage email better
Check e-mail at defined times each day.
Charge people for sending you messages. (radical!)
Train people to be relevant.
Answer briefly.
Send out delayed responses.
Ignore it.

Hey – read the article. There are more than these and the details and examples are really terrific. If you like the article, send me an email. <just kidding, don’t! I have too much email already>

I walked outside this morning and it was gloomy. Lots of clouds hiding the sun. But then I found this: The Cloud Appreciation Society

Just a little reminder that there are always 2 sides to every story.

I am a multi-tasker extraordinaire. I’m at the gym at 5:30 most mornings, have lunches packed by 7:30, the whole kid/morning routine thing comes next and then off to the bus they go. Then I work. (Okay, I admit that I checked email before going to the gym and then again before making lunches when I went to get the YooHoo and the mini waters for lunches.) I work fairly solid through most days with a quick sandwich break mid-day. Until the kids come home and then it’s carpools and homework and, you know the gig. And except for today (I took 1/2 day off and went to see Million Dollar Baby with my sister-in-law) , I don’t take much time off. And Andrew never does.

So we decided that we need a vacation. We spent hours — no days — researching where to go. We had a lot of deadends – since we wanted to go away to somewhere warm during Spring Break and it was already January. Places were booked. Even Club Med had no vacancies. Well, there were some places with vacancies, like the Atlantis, but it was too rich for our blood. So we looked into cruises – though we were secretly (no longer secretly I guess, as I post this) afraid that we’d be cruising with a white bread and Miracle Whip crowd. But having 3 kids is a huge problem on a cruise – most rooms fit only 4 people and that 2nd room gets expensive. And even the 1 cruise we found with a room for 5 didn’t work – the airfare to get to it’s port of entry was outrageously expensive. So we tried Barefoot Cruises, which I’ve heard are very fun. But we needed to get to St. Thomas and again, not affordable.

Finally, more than 2 weeks after this intense project began, Andrew found a reputable resort in Puerto Vallarta with an air/land package that fit into our budget. So we booked. Huge sigh of relief. Mexico books from the library. Spanish books for the kids. We were hugely excited.

Still are. Except. Except now I have a week to get 5 of us ready to go. Need to wrap up some huge projects before then. Need to let our wonderful clients know we’ll be out. Need to arrange for email and voicemail pickup – since I have no idea what the phone or Internet situation is going to be. And frankly, since the reason we’re going is to relax and have fun, it’d be awfully nice to actually take the week off – something we have never really done.

I need to pay the cat sitter, get a pedicure (hey, it’s the beach!), pack (yikes!). I’m going to be so wound up by the time we leave, I’m going to need a vacation.