I’ve been thinking lately. About expectations of other people and about how we react to others’ words and actions.

A while back, I had a real conflict with a woman in a volunteer group that I’m very actively involved in. She and I had very different styles. I sensed that she did not much care for my “this is business and let’s stop talking about it and do it” attitude. She didn’t seem to like me bringing new tools and technologies to the group. Everything was just peachy before I came along thinking I could make the group more efficient and, IMHO, more able to contribute time and money to our community. And honestly, I didn’t appreciate her extremely thoughtful (read: slow) approach to every detail. Nor did I feel that her need to include very large groups of people in the discussion was always appropriate. Sure, we need to work together, build consensus and move forward. But there were times that folks who really had no stake or background were included partially through the process. And, once included in the conversation, it was impossible to ignore the input. Frustrating. And being of a different generation, email was not natural to her. Her email style was to read it every couple days and to reply with a curt one-liner – erasing the thread so I’d have to look back at my sent files to even figure out what the question was.

Anyway, this is all to say that one day, she sent me an email that pushed me over the edge. I don’t even remember what it was. But my veins popped. And I picked up the phone and called her. And I blew up. Now clearly, in retrospect, it was not the way to handle the issue. But the conversation, while very heated and not pleasant was very fruitful. She said that I “hear” her emails through a filter of my beliefs – that I already think she is against me and I read her comments with a bias. I said that she hits send too quickly and should think about what it “sounds” like to the reader. But her point was well-taken – the words themselves were not hurtful. The attitude I read into them was. Interesting.

With written (and quickly written, I might add) communications being so prevalent, we need to adjust our reading. I think it makes sense to “consider the source” in some respects. For instance, say you have a friend or acquaintance who is (so you think) kind and thoughtful. But then you get an email from her that seems like a slam. What to do? I think that if it seems totally out of character, then it probably was not intended how you read it. Or she had a terrible day. Or who knows? But if you care about the relationship, pick up the phone. Or send a note back asking what she meant. I think we’re too quick to assume that our gut reaction is right. And it’s not always.

I believe that our experiences and what we’re thinking and doing at the moment colors our reaction to everything. If I’m concentrating on something and one of the kids needs me, I might not be as thoughtful with my words to him. Or if I’ve had a tough day and I get an email, I might read it differently than a different day.

All this to say that just because we don’t talk to each other as much as we used to and so many of our words are in writing doesn’t mean we are different people. I would like to think that people who know me, know that I’m the same online as offline.

And the woman from the volunteer group and me? We work together swimmingly these days. Sometimes getting offline is just a better way to build and maintain relationships.

My anniversary is three days before my birthday. I made Andrew promise I wouldn’t get combination gifts. I’ve heard about how that happens. Like the kid whose birthday is the day before Christmas? Just not fair.

So Kristin’s anniversary was the other day. And come to find out today is her birthday. What a rip. Kristin, how could you let this happen?

I hope your day is everything you wish for. Happy Birthday.

Okay – it was fun for me to have Davis post yesterday. He was so excited to wake up to comments! Thank you all

My friend and colleague, Megan, expressed an interest in blogging. I told her that she could “guest blog” here. So I expected that in a few weeks or months when she got around to it, she’d send me something. Well, by last night, I already had a post from her! (She’s always been fast, I’ve heard.)

So I’m going to spend the time I WAS going to blog today doing something else. I’m going to bake some challah, get my hair cut, and go buy picture frames for my beautiful new photos.

Heeeerrrrre’s Megan!

In Praise of ‘In Touch’

I’m beginning to think there are only three people in the world that merit any kind of attention: Brangelina, Vinnifer and Tomkat. Before you think I’m leading a completely sheltered life, let me back up.

I’m a new mom to nearly five month old Finley. It’s the most amazing experience but as all parents know, a new baby can turn your world upside down. Things you used to take for granted (uninterrupted sleep and meals) become precious to you. Activities you used to hold dear fall by the wayside. In my case, this means reading. I used to be a voracious reader. I’d swap books back and forth with friends and my mother-in-law who also loves to read. I never joined a book club, I’m not much of a joiner, but I always enjoyed talking to someone had read the same book and we could discuss it casually rather than following some silly Oprah Book Club Guide.

Anyway, I used read every night before I went to bed. Perhaps I picked up this habit from my parents who are also big readers. I don’t have a TV in bedroom (I can hear the gasps of horror now) and I never will. My husband and I like to read ourselves to sleep. But since I’ve had Finley, I haven’t felt up to committing to reading a book every night because I’m usually too tired to read, so I’ve been buying magazines instead. They contain nice, short stories and lots of pictures and I can pick it up and put it down at will.

I subscribe to a few magazines (Bon Appetite, Real Simple and Parenting) and sometimes I’ll pick up Cooking Light. Magazines like In Style and Vanity Fair are almost as thick as books, so I avoid them although they used to be my favorite. However, my new guilty pleasure is a magazine called In Touch. It costs $1.99 (a bargain), there are practically no ads and it’s chock full of useful information. But I love it. I get so excited when I see a new edition in the check-out line at the Safeway. I can’t wait to run home and read it.

Once I get home with my magazine, I go through a ritual that my husband makes fun of. I like to skim through a magazine from back to front and just glance at the stories without actually reading them. This way, I have something to look forward to and I know what I’m getting into. It may sound silly, but it’s the way I approach my reading. Which brings us back to Brangelina.

You can almost always count on there being one or two of the people that make up the following couples on the cover of In Touch magazine: Brangelina, Vinnifer, Tomkat and NickandJessica (one word). It’s always the same photos, always the same story and it’s never anything earth shattering. Maybe I feel that if I keep reading the magazine, they’ll reveal something groundbreaking about Angelina’s baby being born in Africa or Vince Vaughn’s battle with his weight. But the story never changes. And there’s something to be said about that when you’ve recently had so much change in your life (like me who got married, moved, had a baby and left a job in less than two years).

Now that Finley is going to be early and almost sleeping through the night, I have more time to enjoy reading again. I even bought a real book the other day. Nothing too challenging, but rather something very familiar to me that already know I’ll enjoy. (Trust me, if I could erase my memory every time I read a Harry Potter book so I could read it again, I would.). It’s one in the series of No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall. They are just great books and I highly recommend them. And thankfully, there are no Tomkittens in Botswana.

As you probably know, my boys are big fans of The Amazing Race. They love, love, love the Travelocity commercials with the roaming gnome.

So today, while at Target, I came across these gnomes. Each boy got one. They came back to me with the camera card….

I uploaded the pictures. And Davis asked if he could write about them. So (clear throat) allow me to introduce Davis…..

The gnomes are supposed to be in the grand canyon. Who knew mushrooms grew there?

The gnomes are now in the cave of swallows. It is in Mexico and is named for the thousands of swallows in it (see, I’m just as geeky as my parents).

And now for a short break… let’s party!!!

In Brazil we played football [soccer]. My gnome [with the book] couldn’t care less. Just like me!

It’s been a long day. Good night. ;p

Signing off — Davis

PS: Mom will be back tomorrow.

Life imitates art? Art imitates life?

Tonight was the elementary school science fair. I distinctly remember that we didn’t have science fairs until junior high. Kids are doing everything younger these days. Sex. Drugs. And now…science fairs.

It was voluntary. Totally extra-curricular. No grades. No extra credit. Nada. But you know what? A lot of kids participated. A lot. More than could fit in the cafeteria. Eight classrooms were filled too. Must have been 200 kids. In a school with 600 kids. Freaky.

Two of those nutty kids were mine. Reed presented graphs and stats to show that if you play more video games, you have better hand/eye coordination. Am I sure that the causality is there? No. But he actually enjoyed doing it. And Max? He grew two cilantro plants. One only heard Will Smith music and one only heard The Rolling Stones. Which grew faster? Will Smith’s. (Two dads suggested to Andrew that a better experiment would have been a “wackier” kind of plant and to test Bob Marley’s music vs. Pink Floyd. But I digress….)

Some of the kids did some really amazing and indepth projects. There was a kid who built tresses that were holding up 20 lb. weights. And lots of chemical reactions. And mold. Lots of mold.

And you could really see the media influences. One girl did an amazing experiment with french fries. She took McDonald’s, Wendy’s, OreIda, homemade and ChickFila fries. And let them mold. The fast food fries didn’t. I mean hardly at all over several weeks. The homemade fries were totally disgusting and green and fuzzy. The conclusion the student made was that the preservatives in fast food fries artificially kept the food from spoiling. I don’t know anything about whether that’s true or not, but viscerally it was just plain gross. And I heard kids talking about Super Size Me.

And do you remember the first time you thought about the efficacy of laundry detergent and spot remover? I do. I was at least 20 years old at the time. More likely, it was last week. But at least two projects compared several major brands of detergent with different kinds of stains. (Tide won, by the way. My brand, Era, wasn’t even in the mix.) And another project compared Shout and its competitors on some really icky stains. They were well done and interesting. But way more commercial than I remember from science fairs of old.

How does temperature affect popcorn (after it’s popped)? How does heat affect electromagnetism, etc., etc. etc…. It was very fun. Everyone got a ticket upon entry and they called numbers all night giving away science books. Fun science books. Reed’s number was called and he agonized between the brain book and the weather book. He took the brain book.

More than anything, I noticed a certain social strata. Sure, there’s the whole popular thing. Boring. That’s just school. But this was different. There were the kids who took this very seriously and worked really hard. There were those who skated through just to be a part of it. There were those who were very competitive about the appearance of the presentation.

As I looked around at all these bright and enthusiastic students, I could picture them as employees. I could see exactly who they were going to be. It was weird, but I just felt I knew. I can’t wait to see how my predictions play out. Some of these children are just amazing.

And not insignificant to mention is that the parents seemed to me to be observers, not participants. In my daydreams leading up to this momentous event, I imagined overbearing parents doing the projects for their kids. I didn’t see that. Not at all. I saw pride. I saw support of each parent’s child and of the other children in the fair.

What a wonderful surprise. I love being wrong this time.

I’m reading a great mystery by Laura Lippman. It’s called To The Power of Three. I really like the book and I like the other books I’ve read of hers. I like that she’s real Baltimore. I like recognizing places and all that, but it’s more than that.

About a year ago, our friends Scott and Melissa called us. They said they were the only friends (read as “geeks”) they had that would enjoy going to see the radio show Wait Wait Don’t Tell Me being recorded live at Goucher College. And yes, we were excited to be invited. And lucky for me, Laura Lippman was the guest! She was relaxed and cool and calm. And real. Anyway, I like her books a lot. (Her partner is David Simon of The Wire fame, by the way… Lots of creativity in that house!) But I digress.

There are some serious secrets in the book I’m reading. I have about 50 pages left to go & if I wasn’t sitting here blogging, I’d be finding out what the thrilling conclusion is! But instead, I’m thinking about secrets. What makes people good at keeping them? What makes people like surprises? I am keeping a secret from Andrew’s sister. It’s hard! Andrew is taking her someplace on Thursday. She doesn’t know where. She’s curious of course. And he didn’t help matters! He told her “lunch” and then said be ready by 9:30 am. So where is this lunch? In Philadelphia?

Of course, I know the secret. I’m having trouble keeping it. But if I don’t talk to her or email her, I can do it. I think. I did kind of mention that if she wasn’t feeling well on Thursday, I’d be happy to take her place. But I’m not holding my breath.

Everyone has secrets. Most of you have seen the PostSecret blog. I’m not a regular reader, but I do check it out. And it grips me. It makes me feel so odd. I can’t explain it. Someone told me recently that she was thinking of sending a postcard in. I said I didn’t have anything to send. She told me that I must have a secret that I’ve never told anyone. I didn’t think so at first. But, I suppose that I do. I’m just not sure I can take the step.

Surprises. I hate surprise parties. But I love parties. Surprise me by telling me you want to throw me a party! And then let me participate. Now that’s fun! What’s not fun is worrying that someone you care about would be left out inadvertently. That would be some surprise.

Then there’s the big surprise…a baby. Some pregnant women don’t want to know the sex of their child until they deliver. They want to be surprised. My theory is that it’s a surprise when you find out at 4 months or it’s a surprise when you find out at 9 months. Why not have that gratification earlier? Let’s get the surprise over with so we can plan and paint and get ready!

I believe in immediate gratification. I guess not everyone eats the creamy part of the Oreo first. But I do.

I went to a party tonight. A wine & cheese affair. Very nice. But the thing I feel this incredible need to post about is that for the first time ever, someone (I won’t say who, but you know who you are!) asked me not to post about something! It was hysterical! Anyway, it was a lovely evening and I’m back in town and back in business. Expect a real post tomorrow!

My friend Sarah and I sang that song at the 4th grade talent show. Talent is a stretch, though. She played the guitar. We both sang. If you have ever heard me sing, you might wonder what made me think it was a good idea to sing in front of the whole school and the PTA. (We made the long granny skirts that we wore with the peasant tops!)

I’m leaving in the morning for Minneapolis. I like that city! I wish I had time to visit some new friends from NCJW, but it’s work, work, work for me. So I’ll be offline until next week, I expect.

Meantime, my friend’s father is traveling in Uganda and is keeping a blog documenting his experiences. It’s interesting and (with his permission) I thought I’d post the link in case you want to check it out! Uganda Traveler

I admit it. We didn’t “keep” Passover perfectly. Some bread products got eaten. I know, I know. If I want to feel guilty, I’ll just call my mother. (Sorry, Mom, I do feel guilty that I didn’t tell you Davis was having oral surgery yesterday!) But Davis isn’t eating bread. But he wanted a hot dog for dinner. So, he invented the bunless hotdog solution shown here…

Maybe he can get on American Inventor.