Lela Davidson's Blog, page 36
August 30, 2011
Dear PTA: I Got a New Attitude (Not Really)
Dear PTA,
I'm trying to change my ways. (No, I'm not.) Or at least my attitude. (Yeah, right.) Okay, you're right. Against my better judgment, I'll just tell you the truth. There are a few things you should know.
You should know that…
As is my policy with all charitable causes, I will TOTALLY get behind your projects that I think are worthy, and the stupid ones that give me an opportunity to drink too much and get my picture taken with wicked black eyeliner in a nice dress. I will also fight like a Mother against anything I feel is immoral or unethical that is being conducted in mine or my child's name. For stuff I deem just plain lame, I will, for the most part, leave you alone.
You should know that…
Because I spend enough time devoted to my children already I'm a reluctant participant in any of your clipboard-worthy activities. However, I will be a dutiful worker bee. That's right, after you ask me two or three times I will be happy to work a shift or bake a cake or whatever else it is that chips away at the greater good. I will show up with a smile and I won't even spend the entire time talking smack about the other PTA parents. Not the whole time, anyway.
You should know that…
I wrote a book called, Blacklisted from the PTA. There are two little pages out of more than 240 in which I encourage other moms to become pariahs among their various PTA communities. It was just a joke. A true joke. A manifesto of sorts. But I pinky promise not to undermine any of your [worthy] efforts. (See above.) I will even donate copies of my book to help raise money for your very most worthiest causes. See? I'm nice!
You should know that…
I can't volunteer for anything with the words "field" or "monitor" in the job description. Because these invariably involve other people's children and the thing is, I don't like them. It's just the two kids I'm fond of–the ones I so generously birthed–and a handful of their friends. And I have small hands. Believe me, I'm doing us all a favor by declining any student-related duties up front. Kids never believe my "I'll smack you in the head" threats until it's too late. Who needs a lawsuit, right?
And finally, you should know…
I don't do yogurt lids, aluminum can tabs, or box tops. This is non-negotiable.
Honestly, PTA, it's nothing personal. Some of my best friends are PTA Queens. So keep those guilt-inducing emails coming. I'll respond, I'll sign your clipboard, I'll do my part.
Eventually.
Sincerely,
Worker Bee Me
If This Made You Grin, Try These:
Blacklisted From the PTA, the Google Search
Drive a Mile in My Minivan
7 Surefire Ways to Get Blacklisted from the PTA
This post was written as part of the I Support My School, MY Way campaign, sponsored by VolunteerSpot.com, a free online sign-up sheet tool for busy parents–who are into that sort of thing. No compensation was provided, so feel free to buy my book. Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to pull a shift at Field Day.
August 25, 2011
Promises To My Teenagers
I recently spent time around a table with some older and wiser mothers. Conversation soon turned to teenagers. I envied my own budding members of this often maligned demographic, who sat on the hostess' matching recliners, lost in competition on their iPods, while the battle-worn women told of children morphing into angry, emotionally unstable—even abusive—teens.
"You never want to believe it will happen to you," said one. "You never want to believe that your sweet child will change."
Here's the thing: I don't believe it. Call me naïve; call me smug, but I do not believe my children will ever become the dreadful creatures described around that table. I'm clueless, I know. It's the only way to be an optimist.
Read the rest of this post on ModernMom.
More Tweens and TeensRaising a Tweenager: The First Zit
Will My Husband Survive the Teen Years?
Image: ivoryelephantphotography, Flickr
August 23, 2011
Strollergate: Was a New York Mom Really Shoplifting?
Grocery shopping is not a crime. Except when it is.
I often pick up more than I can carry at the grocery store. With a toddler in tow, I might stick a bottle of Heinz in my pocket, hoping I remember to produce the concealed condiment for the cashier. (That's a risk I take when I fool myself into thinking I can get in and out with just a hand-held basket.)
However, here in the suburbs of Rogers, Ark., most food shopping involves a cart the size of my first car, which makes accidental theft less likely. Countless times I've almost walked out of the Super Center with a case of Diet Coke and a pallet of Charmin, but those are easy to spot on the lower rack of the cart.
Click here to read the rest of this post on the Today Show Moms blog.
You Might Like These Too:
Ask the Bubbly: Babies Laughing at Paper
A Case for Arts in Education
The Legend of My Ten-Pound Baby
August 18, 2011
Miss You, Babe
Okay, so maybe he didn't drink ALL my liquor.
When I am out of town my husband rents Angelina Jolie movies, smokes too many cigars, goes fishing, and… apparently drinks my liquor. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
A couple of weeks ago I went to California to promote Blacklisted from the PTA and to attend, for my very first time, BlogHer. The kids went to grandma's house, leaving my husband free to his leisure time activities. As you can see from the list above, these are few.
The second night into the conference I got an email — something about sitting on the deck and cool drinks going down smooth on a Saturday afternoon. First of all, that girly cocktail was sent to ME by the kindly LADIES (sensing a theme?) at The Balancing Act for ME to sample. Don't get me wrong, I am all about sharing, but when my husband had called earlier in the week to tell me the Cuervo had arrived, I didn't think his Patron-on-ice tequila-sipping-snob self would break into the sweet stuff.
He was drinking WATERMELON margarita, my Jolly Rancher flavored chick mix. What was next, sucking down blueberry Jello shots? Not cool, Better Half.
I soon learned that even she-drinks can go to a boy's head. When I called to check in before going out for the evening's [mild] debauchery, my husband told me he was "checking out" my pictures on Facebook.
"You're stalking me?"
"I guess so."
"Like if we weren't married, you'd be looking at my photos like I'm some hot chick?"
Not that I would know about that sort of thing.
Okay, you got me. There was that one guy from high school who "liked" some of my pictures but I swear I unfriended him as soon as he sent me that creepy message. Fine, I unfriended him after the chat where he showed me his–
How did we get so off topic?
Tequila. Yes, that was it. And Facebook pictures. There are some great shots on there. At my birthday party, dancing with my BFFs, at the book launch…
"I love this one of you in the parade," he said. "With the kids."
"You mean the one where my hair is a mess, I'm wearing no makeup, and I'm holding up the PTA banner?"
"That is a really good picture of you."
Poor guy. He really did miss me. To prove his love, he saved all of the sugar-free stuff for me, which was even better mixed with the so-many-calories-they-won't-even-print-it-on-the-label watermelon drink. But it's not like I have to watch my weight. I'm the hot chick in the PTA parade, remember?
More Stories That Make My Husband Wish I Was Still a CPA:
Passing the Clipboard
Not in the Frommer's Guide to NYC with Kids
It's Not You, It's Not Me
Image: Lela Davidson
Dear FCC: The nice people at The Balancing Act and Cuervo liquored me up in exchange for this anecdote. Send me some free airwaves and I'll write about you, too.
August 16, 2011
BillMyParents, TrackMySpouse – Tomato, Tomahto
I had the very good fortune of working with an innovative brand at BlogHer11 in San Diego earlier this month. The BillMyParents Mastercard is a reloadable debit card that is marketed to parents of teens because of its ability to track spending and the balance online, therefore allowing parents to take advantage of the many teachable moments between freshman year and freshman year.
As a parent of a teenager, I find the service attractive.
As the friend of women whose husbands have cheated on them, I can't help but ponder other uses for the card's many fine features.
Instant Messaging
Parents can set up the BillMyParents card to send instant alerts with every swipe. You might use this data to teach your kid to buy Whoppers at the grocery store on the way to the theater… OR you might want a heads up that your spouse has checked into the Homewood Suites at four in the afternoon.
Centralized Gifting
Friends and family can use the BillMyParents card to send birthday and Christmas gifts. This is a great alternative to collecting all those iTunes and Target cards… OR it could be the perfect place to deposit your husband's allowance. No money, no hos, I always say.
Remote Locking
The remote lock feature is a convenient feature for teens who might be prone to misplace their plastic. Instead of panicking when a card goes missing, you simply log on and freeze the card… OR you stop that lap dance mid-hip roll.
The BillMyParents campaign encourages getting rid of the dirty old men–the dead presidents on our cash–in favor of trackable plastic. Wronged spouses can stop the dirty old men closer to home, because, truly, it's tough to fit a card reader in a g-string.
TrackMySpouse. Watch for it.
Other Fun Posts About Marriage:
From Pillow to Pedometer in 6 Easy Steps
How My Husband Got Kicked Off My Sales Force
Showered in Miscommunication
Dear FCC: Although BillMyParents did compensate me to represent their brand at BlogHer11, I'm certain this is not even close to what they had in mind.
Image Credit: brh_images, Flickr
August 12, 2011
Temper Tantrums, Mommy and Daddy Style
It's not so bad when babies cry. We know they're just doing it to get basic needs met. We realize we committed to 3am lullabies and perpetual feeding, and years of pooper-scoop duty. We don't mind, much, but once they can talk, shouldn't our children express their needs in rational tones? Are complete sentences too much to ask?
Note to toddler: Get over yourself
Fully functional toddlers continue to cry, and add whining, screaming, and destruction to their catalog of exasperating behaviors. On the bright side, these tantrums give us scientific insight into the human condition.
Click here to read the rest of this post on The Today Show Moms blog.
Image: Melissa O'Donohue, Flickr
These Might Be Fun, Too:I Will Beat You With a Stick and Sell You to the Gypsies
Making Babies… Oh, the Glamour
August 10, 2011
8 Types of Bloggers You Meet at BlogHer
One of the very few photos of me at BlogHer. With the super cool Tracy Beckerman.
I went to my very first ever BlogHer last weekend. Wow. I had heard it was big and spectacular, but I didn't know it was Disneyland. There was so much vying for my attention that I could have spent the entire weekend mourning for the things I missed. But I did not do that. Instead, I sampled a bit of everything the conference had to offer. I went to a couple of sessions, had a couple of meetings, went to a few parties, and strolled and worked the expo floor. The best part, of course, was meeting so many fantastic people I follow online or in print. (More on them below.) I came away with a new respect for blogging, a lot of great contacts, and a feel for the different types of BlogHer conference attendees.
The Swag Whore
Not to be confused with the whore-whore (um, yes, this was a convening of media people, so…) Anyway, I had heard about the merchandise given to bloggers at BlogHer, but there is just no way to comprehend the quantity and quality of swag until you see it first hand. The Swag Whore is more interested in checking items off her Christmas list than improving the quality of her website or the caliber of her connections. In my [stupid] attempt to focus on my primary goals and travel light, I maintained a no-swag policy until the very last party. Next year I will keep my focus on business, and outsource my swag whoring.
The Matriarch
The Matriarchs of BlogHer have been around since Al Gore invented the internet. I didn't meet a single one, but admired them from afar.
The Bright-Eyed Baby Blogger
For the most part, the women I met at BlogHer were highly accomplished, driven professionals. I only met a few newbies. And they stood out. For example, in a hallway full of women bloggers introducing themselves, one extra-excited young woman exploded in "I'm a mommy blogger too!" What are the odds? This is akin to the newbie writer's conference attendee who is certain their manuscript is *this close* to being optioned into a Spielberg film. This close. I like these people, mostly because I want to go back in time and be them again.
The Groupie
I expected to meet a lot of the bloggers I've followed over the years. I didn't expect they'd have entourages and hold court in corners of conference rooms and bars. I fell into the Groupie category on many occasions, such as upon meeting Wendi Aarons, Tracy Beckerman, Stefanie Wilder Taylor, Ann Imig, and Jessica Bern. I positively gushed over Deb Ng, who used to run the very best resource for freelance writers online and is now a big deal in the co-ed blogging world. (Yes, boys blog, too.) I tried not to bug these wonderful women, for real. I don't think asking them to sign my breast in Sharpie went too far.
The Diva
The Diva strolls from one party to another with premium swag weighing her down. She has been around. She knows all. Luckily, I only met one blogger who disappointed me with her less-than-lovely real life self. Of course I'm not going to mention her by name, but I will say she wasn't the only one. I heard many stories of "Who are you?" and "Don't you know who I am?" Being courted by the brands does not impress me. Show me the money or write a book and then I'll respect you. Which brings me to…
The Writer
The Writer is not quite sure why she is attending BlogHer. Some are here to see old friends, who are also writers and who may or may not have been bloggers before they had book deals but now they are literary types whose publishing houses really should be handling all this marketing filth. Some are painfully shy. Some are funny. Some are serious. Most have dignity, at least enough NOT to dance with a McDonald's bag on their heads.
The Funny Bitch
Oh, there's nothing quite so entertaining as a Funny Bitch. The trouble is when they flock together, pouncing on jokes and competing for attention. And yet, the funny bitches were the most fun.
The Para-Celebrity
I understand the blogging community in a whole new way since attending BlogHer. In our celebrity obsessed society, bloggers get to carve out a little audience. In turn the brands feed them drinks, glamorous party locations, and red carpet photo opps to feed their semi-famous self image. If I learned anything this weekend, it's that I need to do a better job of pretending to be a celebrity. How else will I get to the point where some Groupie asks me to sign her breast?
August 1, 2011
All Parenting Is Imperfect, Isn't It?
What is perfect parenting? I have no idea. So what are we all aspiring to? The standards are too high, people! Too high. Here's the Parenting U segment from KFSM Wake Up With 5News a couple of weeks ago.
July 27, 2011
Who Is Watching These Kids?
I've been trying to keep my daughter busy, I really have. But with her big brother at camp, it's been a challenge. She's crafty and artistic, which can be good. Or terrifying. Imagine my surprise at our newly painted front walk.
What is that?
What?
On the sidewalk.
Paint.
Paint?
Sidewalk paint.
Where did you get it?
I made it.
You made it? Out of what?
I don't know — cornstarch.
Does it wash off?
Yes.
Are you sure?
Pretty sure.
Yesterday she melted crayons into the deck. At least this time it's in the front, which if it does not wash off, provides the added bonus of pissing off the neighbors.
July 14, 2011
Top 5 Pick-Up Lines at the Media Conference
In my experience, media and publishing conferences are attended by an interesting mix of sales-types, writers, and geeks. Especially where writers or bloggers congregate, you can expect a lot of women. Such good odds for the men in attendance, so why are their openers still so awful?
What's your handle so I can tweet you?
I'd love to expose you to my audience.
Meet me in my room. We can update our status.
I can get you on the front page of Digg.
Not everything in publishing has been downsized! [insert wink]
When will they learn? It's all about good white shirts, intelligent jokes and this:
You are NOT in your forties!
This one works. Anywhere. Always. Every time. But if it doesn't, try something dirty–like a martini.
Image Credit: Peter Gorges, Flickr
