Mama's Musings

Brady's Smile

Have you heard of Brady's Smile, Inc., inspired by two New England parents who recently lost their two-year-old? Spending countless hours in the ICU, Annie and Matt Hinton often yearned for some comfort, a sip of water or anything to alleviate the strain of their situation.

The story:

On March 16, 2006, Brady Blaine Hinton was born at St. Vincent’s hospital in Bridgeport, CT. He passed away two years later on March 16, 2008, his 2nd birthday. In between those dates, Brady endured a life complicated by intricate medical conditions. Through everything his little body endured, he never stopped smiling. He beamed from ear-to-ear when listening to music and experiencing the brightest of lights. He showed people that despite it all, you can maintain a positive attitude. Now, his mother and father are taking the opportunity to honor their little boy’s spirit by making a difference in the lives of those who need the most help. They are a "mom and pop" with a personal cause. A start-up company dedicated to the greater good who hope to fulfill one ultimate goal: to become the largest children's based charitable foundation in the world. Brady's Smile, Inc. has applied to become a 501(c)(3) company and is awaiting approval.

The result:

Starting August 7, 2008, Brady’s Smile will provide Brady’s Smile Comfort Bags, Brady Blankets and Music in the ICU (“MICU“) to many of the parents of the 1500 children handled at Yale-New Haven Children’s Hospital (“YNHCH”) Newborn Special Care Unit (“NBSCU“) and Pediatric Intensive Care Unit (“PICU“). The NBSCU cares for over 1,500 infants every year, while the PICU cares for children recovering from illness, trauma, cardiothoracic surgery and transplant operations, and serves more than 800 children every year. . Brady’s Smile Comfort Bags will provide basic essentials to caregivers and toys to babies and children. Brady Blankets are homemade fleece blankets that will be distributed to babies and children during their time in the ICU. The MICU program will give every baby and child an opportunity to benefit from the power of music during his or her time in the ICUs.

For additional information on each program go to www.bradyssmile.org. If you're a journalist looking for a great story, here's one. Email Annie or Matt for more details.

Curtained windows

Okay, I have to capture the essense of an email exchange with a news producer at NPR's Morning Edition that I had the other day. It went something like this:

Hiya, Christine! Wanted to know how that book is coming along.

Hiya, PRODUCER's NAME. Praying to be on [FILL IN THE BLANK] TV Show to get the book noticed. Once I write it, that is!

He promises to watch it, even if he doesn't like egomaniacal talk show hosts. Then I tell him this:

Every time I meet famous to near-famous people I can see the veil that covers their eyes. May we never let our souls reside behind curtained windows.

He liked that.

So did I.

I've gotta blog about that

My family gives me reason to blog every day. Not too unfrequently, something will happen that results in my exclaiming, "I've gotta blog about that!"

Yesterday was no different.

The school year is finally winding down for my kids. On one level, I'm excited to have leisurely, unstructured days without homework hassles or fights with friends that my kids seem to import from school every day. On another, I'm plain scared they'll drive me nuts by the end of Day One.

Since Tuesdays are what we like to call 'Whole Hog' school in which the children actually stay on school grounds until a whopping 3 p.m. (as opposed to their 11:15 am let-out time on days deemed 'too hot' or simply scheduled thusly). I had arranged for a client meeting in my home to enjoy the beautiful weather, have a late breakfast, and get a lot done without the stress of commuting into the city. The client was overjoyed to spend time in the verdant surroundings.

After 45 minutes, however, the phone rang.

"Oh, that might be the school -- let me just get that..." It was my daughter on the phone, telling me Jackson hadn't made it to after-care.

WHAT!? I rolled my eyes, thinking perhaps my daughter was slightly overreacting. It had only been fifteen minutes, and perhaps he was dawdling with his friends upstairs. I let ten minutes go by, then called the after-care phone. My nine-year-old daughter answered. Still no Jackson.

I asked to speak with the woman in charge, who shrugged her shoulders (I could hear the textile rubbing the phone as she spoke). What could she do? She had other children to care for...I felt venom shoot through my veins.

Pounding the keypad, and virtually forgetting that my client was sitting right there, I called the school phone, which is one flight up. My son's teacher answered the phone.

Where the hell is my son?

The teacher replied, "I'd like to ask you the same question." We got into a verbal battle. The sweet, demure woman who had always been so kind was suddenly no longer listening.

She felt certain he had decided to ditch the after-care program and walk home wih friends. I grabbed my keys (and my client) and searched all the streets where his friends lived. I interviewed one kid who said Jackson had brought him home, then gone on. I circled back home, asked neighbors, carpenters on site, and called all the mothers I knew. It finally dawned on me to call one of the older boys Jackson adores. He was ten and would have a clearer understanding of my concern. He told me Jackson had gone home with another boy named Philip, who lives in our street.

45 minutes had passed. I finally located my son. The mother, standing in the doorway with a clueless look on her face, hadn't thought to call me.

I was pissed.

So often I feel the system works against me, works against my dream to be a working mother who can engage childcare, have a career, realize her dreams, and be there for her family when they need her.

I was enraged for the rest of the afternoon. What sabotage! What ignorance! What indifference!

After speaking with the school principle this morning to talk about this scenario, I gave constructive advice in how to avoid the situation in the future. If the teachers don't have an overview as to which kid is supposed to go where, design a process to ensure they do know. Conduct a daily poll to see which kid should be in after-care every day. Since it has an open-door plicy, give the updated list to the after-care provider every day.

It's simple people. A little mea culpa please. You know what happened here when everyone stood around shrugging their shoulders in 1933...

Gearing Up for Baby

Looking for a gift for my new nephew recently, I felt like a bit of a failure. As a mom of a six and nine-year-old, I had forgotten how overwhelming shopping for baby can be. In the end, I picked out a cute one-piece with bunnies on the feet for a six-month-old.

Sandy & Marcie Jones, authors of the successful Great Expectations series, are about to release Great Expectations Best Baby Gear, a guide to the latest, safest and best-quality products for baby.  Like all books in the series, it's written in a warm, straightforward voice and provides parents, grandparents and any gift giver with great advice on what one really needs to purchase as well as info on hundreds of products.  The sound advice also includes tips on where one can cut corners and where one cannot. Thankfully!

Fresh Air Fund Still Seeking Families

SPECIAL NOTE: The folks at the Fresh Air Fund are still looking for more host families. The Fresh Air Fund has provided free summer vacations to New York City children from disadvantaged communities since 1877. They are particularly looking for families who want to extend an invitation to a 9-12 year old. They really need more families who want older children and boys. How to get involved? Email Angie or call 1-800-367-0003 (212.897.8900) -- ask for Angie.

Another way to help? BLOG about this program, tell your friends, recommend someone, or DONATE.

Thank you so much for all you do!

The Last Dance

Childhood dreams are what life is made of. For Randy Pausch, who I sadlylearned just passed away today, it was his life's mission.

The man inspired millions, including my dad who sent me a copy of his Last Lecture for Christmas. As an addendum to the waiting room post, I would like to add:

If we're all in the waiting room looking for our chance to dance, we'd better have that dance card ready.

Treasure those dreams, people. They are yours.

Many blessings to the Pausch family as they mourn Randy's loss. He gave much of himself -- may we follow our dreams in the spirit in which he lived.

The Waiting Room

Information overload has been accute of late. I had one of those days yesterday that catapulted me to the stars then back down again over and over. If I could have spread out the events over the entire week, I may not have been so drained. But life isn't like that. It's not neatly designed in seven acts. It's a jumble of scenes that start and stop whenever they feel like it.

I don't want to sound pessimistic because something incredible happened yesterday that brought me to my knees. I shrieked, cried, laughed, and called my mom.

A major US publishing house made me an offer to publish my book about our relationship to time. They seemed excited about my proposal. I detected almost a chomping of the bit, and if I hadn't been chewing so hard myself, I may have even heard it. I nearly lept through the computer screen and into my lit agent's lap when I read his email.

And he must have been excited, too, because just the day before he comforted me by saying, "Well, I suspect they may give us an answer by Labor Day..." He emailed me at 7:30 in the morning his time. And the funny thing was I had just put down the phone after chatting briefly with my mom.

Ever the wise one, she comforted me as I tearfully said I'm tired of waiting. Waiting for the casting recall, waiting for the pub deal, waiting for a breakthrough in my client's campaign. The walls of the waiting room were closing in. So I did what any self-respecting professional would do. I booked a flight home for a week in September.

The timing of my agent's email couldn't have been more amazing. The very same day I had received a book I'd be waiting on for almost two months to research for my own book. As I sat in my winter garden, I absorbed the Swedish author's own wisdom about the concept of time. I suddenly envisioned meeting her in Stockholm for an interview. It seemed so real in my mind's eye, as if I were reliving a distant memory that hadn't happened yet. It was a prescient moment encapsulated by sun and a wicker chair.

That my daughter yakked all day due to a stomach bug, or that I witnessed a near-miss pedestrian accident, or that I got flooded with emails and client requests while wiping my daughter's brow made the paradox of life even more real for me.

Life happens in small acts, scene by scene, mostly simultaneously. Now and not now. All the while we stand in the waiting room wondering when it's our turn to dance.

Marketer's Nightmare

It's not been that long since I was a young mom in Boston, struggling to balance motherhood with my ever-decreasing sanity. Once we settled into a new life in Germany, I soon lost touch with many of the day-to-day issues of being an American mom.

Six years later, I'm still a mom. I'm still an American. But I don't live there anymore. My children aren't influenced by the same things my niece and nephew are.

It struck me when my sister recently came to visit. We had great girl time, giggling about old times and creating new memories. Proud of who we've become as women, we had some serious bonding time. And she noticed how much more innocent my daughter, ten months younger than her own, seemed to be. Perhaps it's her sheltered life in a rural town outside of Munich, the amount of time she spends playing with friends on endless afternoons or the freetime activities we do just for the fun of it. We aren't thinking about resume-building, micromanaging every second of her development, shielding her from the evils of marketing machines targetting young girls. Not that my sister is, either, but it's clear her daughter is dealing with a whole different set of issues.

In a recent New York Times article, Roger Cohen relates how the term 'tween' is a marketer's invention. He quotes Dr. Sharon Lamb, co-author of Packaging Girlhood: Rescuing Our Daughters from Marketers' Schemes, as saying "Tween is a word made up by marketers in order to sell teen items to younger and younger girls."

Shocking.

To test-drive my child's level of pre-teen wisdom, I approached her with the fabulous mother-daughter workbook Dove has created for pre-teens with self-esteem issues. Having read through it, I thought it was a wonderful way to broach the subject of growing up.

It didn't seem to resonate with her as much as I thought it might. Admittedly, I'm guilty of noticing my daughter's actions with microscopic observation. How does she feel about herself? Her body? The boys in class? What are her interests? Who's her best friend? Trying hard not to interfere, yet 'be there', I often don't know if I'm asking too much or thinking too little.

Or just maybe my child has no issues with self-esteem. Perhaps she doesn't because she knows nothing of Bratz dolls, Britney Spears or Lindsay Lohan. She's sheltered, but it seems to be in a good way.

In response to my attempt to give her 'The Talk', she smiled and said, "Yes, when I'm 11, things will change." Where she got that magical number, I'll never know. I mentioned some of her friends who are already 'changing'. She looked me square in the eye and said, "Mother, I'm going to do this myself, okay?"

I was speechless.

Repressing a feeling of failure, I left the workbook on her desk and let her know I'm here if she has questions. All told, she knows I'm there for her, and I suppose that's the point. Self-esteem is an elusive character. I hope she remains as strong as she is now. Perhaps the workbook will be superfluous to my daughter's experience.

It is my greatest hope that my daughter remains a marketer's nightmare. Besides a mom who loves her dearly, self-esteem really is her greatest ally.

Explosives

Did you know a six-year-old is capable of growling more fiercely than a pitbull inches from your neighbor's smoke-enshrouded BBQ grill? Esepcially when it comes to homework in the last days of school before a well-earned six-week break in which we pretend none of this ever happened.

Except it did.

My son has spent the better part of first grade yelling at me.

Every day.

It starts with my checking his homework. I casually ask to review it. Then I ask permission to point out any errors I might see. But, first comes the praise.

"Wow! You really worked hard. Look! The whole page is full of your sentences." A dramaturgical pause follows. Then I ask him how to spell the word 'place'. I can physically see his ire raising skyward. Then he explodes.

We've reenacted this scene time and again, and quite frankly, I'm at the end of my rope in trying to help him with his assignments.

Then I came across Dove's self-esteem workshop materials. They have an entire workbook for girls. But the list I found could easily apply to boys, too. So I printed it out and plan on reading it to the kids before they start homework today. I've posted it below for your convenience. If you have an explosive child whose unsure of his or her emotions, you may want to read it. View more tools here:

UNIQUELY ME! TIPS FOR BUILDING SELF-ESTEEM

Celebrate you!
Reward yourself when you have accomplished something! You don't need to wait for others to recognize what you've done.

Surround yourself with positive people.
Spend time with people who are upbeat and feel good about themselves. They, in turn, will put a smile on your face and help you feel good about yourself.

Challenge yourself to try new things.
Try a ropes course, learn some new dance steps, speak in front of a large group. Stepping outside of your comfort zone to try new things is a great way to grow.

Be good to your body.
Exercising, eating well, and getting plenty of sleep will help you move toward a healthier you—inside and out!

Find and express the real you.
No other person has the unique combination of qualities that you have! Be proud of yourself and be courageous enough to express your true feelings.

Have a positive mental attitude.
A positive attitude is contagious! You'll feel good and people will want to hang out with you.

Learn from your experiences.
Learn from your actions—both good and bad, and use the knowledge you gain to make positive decisions in the future.

Find the humor in everyday life.
When you can see the funny side of things, you'll be less stressed and more likely to handle tough situations better.

Confessions of a Social Networking Junkie

St. Louis Dispatch reporter Tim Barker just read my mind. In his most recent article, he questions when social networking site membership becomes too much. Each site has its benefits, surely. But how much time do we spend on them? A British research group found workers were wasting upwards to 30 minutes a day on cyber-networking.

According to a 2008 survey by Chicago-based consulting firm, Challenger, Gray & Christmas, 23% of companies have started to block social networking sites so employees remain focused on the job. A reported 32.7% claimed these sites present a drain on worker productivity. Only a handful of respondents asked "What's MySpace?"

Oh dear.

Unlike many of my clients and friends, I love networking. Everybody has a story, and I love to  learn new things. People are the best way to experience a new side of life. Connecting with others makes you feel larger than yourself. You become a part of a collective. It gives you a feeling of singular purpose.

Having read Tim's article, sparked by Eve Tahmincioglu at MSNBC, I decided to take inventory of my own participation in so-called social networking sites. Snickering evilly at how much other people waste time mouse-clicking perfect strangers into friends, I was appalled by the actual number of memberships I have.

Xing

Ryze

LinkedIn

Flickr

Twitter

YahooGroups!

MamaSource

MySpace

Facebook

Plaxo

Unbelievable. I mean do I really spend that much time tracking down old college friends, schoolmates and potential research sources? Have I fallen into the trap Challenger and Co. so soberly portray as the Ultimate Time-Wasters of the Century?

Nah, I assured myself. But in case you're looking for a new friend, I've included my direct link on each of the above. Come on, try it! It'll only take a minute...