LA Moms Blog

Wake Me Up When Adolescence is Over

"She's such a good baby," my friends and colleagues ooh-ed when my daughter was an infant.

She seemed to know when my maternity leave was about to end, because at just that point she began sleeping through the night.She didn't cry much, and when she did, it was kind of cute. And as soon as she learned to smile, it was apparent that this little girl was born with a good sense of humor.

She was so... easy. And this scared me to tears, because "easy" is not a word most people use to describe raising a child.

I braced myself for the terrible twos -- which weren't so terrible. My daughter was a delight as a toddler and through elementary school and even during the first years of middle school.

The Stranger

My home town - Los Angeles - does not have a reputation for friendliness.

I think this has more to do with geography than anything else. Our city came of age with the automobile. Yes, we have public transportation, but it is more trouble than it's worth in my far flung suburban neighborhood... and so we rely on our cars to get where we have to be.

That's one reason why we don't have a lot of pedestrian traffic -- and consequently, there are few opportunities for folks to interact in public. We are self-contained in our own little automobile pods and tend to socialize only with the people we already know.

My teenage daughter was a baby when we moved into our home, so we've lived on our street for a long, long time. You would think I'd know my neighbors.

You would be wrong. 

The Doggie in the Window

"I want a dog," my daughter announced for the umpteenth time. I reflexively replied with my usual answer:

"That's nice. But what about the cats?"

I wasn't always a cat person. That's something that developed over time, when I was a single gal living in an apartment complex that didn't allow dogs - but tolerated pets of the feline persuasion. I adopted my first kitten by accident, when a co-worker tired of the pet he acquired just a few weeks earlier -- and told me he was going to take her to the animal shelter.

I was so clueless, I didn't even know I needed some kind of carrier to take the kitten home. She pooped in my car.

I began to think that taking her on was a big mistake.

Que Sera, Sera (I Don't Need No Stinkin' Resolutions)

New Year's Day was our last in Park City, and my husband decided to culminate our stay with a fabulous dinner for two at Ruth's Chris Steakhouse (which was conveniently located inside our hotel).

"So... what are your resolutions?" he asked.

He was surprised when I told him I don't make them any longer.

After all, by the time you are my age, they are all the same: Eat healthier. Exercise. Spend wisely. Be a better parent. Be a better wife.

This is the stuff we're supposed to be doing in our daily lives anyway. It seems silly to resolve to do it on January 1st each year when I'm struggling to keep all those balls in the air 365 days a year.

Rather than resolving to take some kind of new action, I am trying to enact a change of attitude.

"My goal for this year is to stop worrying so much. I just want to try and be happy."

Rushing the Holiday Spirit

Thanksgiving at my sister's house was close to perfect - from the table settings to the array of food and pies. But one thing she did surprised me: we partied to a soundtrack of Christmas music.

Don't get me wrong: I love the holiday songs, from "Adeste Fidelis" to "White Christmas" and everything in-between. But the urge to get into the Christmas spirit earlier each year makes me crazy.

I don't want to hear Christmas carols or see holiday decorations until at least the day AFTER Thanksgiving. Sadly, I think I'm part of a dying breed. My neighbors started putting up their lights a couple of weeks ago, and some of the stores I frequent began selling holiday merchandise in late September. 

Moreover, the last thing I want to do the morning after Thanksgiving is get up in the middle of the night and head off to Wal-Mart or Target and go shopping. Fighting crowds and jostling for the best bargains is not my idea of a good time on any day - and it's certainly not a good idea after a hangover-inducing evening of eating and making merry.

Style? What Style?

Shopping with my 13-year-old can be a trip... to the psychiatrist. I have learned to keep my opinions to myself and let her find her own style.

If only.she would return the favor. Last week, while shopping for new shoes (for her), I happened to look longingly at a cute pair of boots.

"That's not your style," she sniffed.

She has a point. I actually don't have a style. Shortly after she was born, we obtained a mortgage and lost a second income. She has rarely seen me wear anything but jeans, t-shirts and trainers. That doesn't mean I don't like stylish clothes... I just don't have a lot of budget for anything that isn't purely functional, nor many reasons to dress in anything that isn't casual.

Katie Couric Tells Women's Conference Attendees a Little Something About Resilience

Maria Shriver may be the busiest First Lady of a state in the U.S. Just prior to the start of this year's Women's Conference, she teamed up with the Center for American Progress, Time Magazine, NBC Universal, the USC Annenberg Center on Communication Leadership and Policy and the Rockefeller Foundation...

...and issued a national study called The Shriver Report: A Woman's Nation Changes Everything, which highlights the many ways American society has changed due to the current recession and the emerging economic power of women.

Today's lunch session touched on the report's findings. It began with a "Once-in-a-Lifetime-Conversation" between former Secretary of State Madeline Albright, CNN commentator Amy Holmes, Good Morning America correspondent Claire Shipman and Valerie Jarrett (whose official titles are Senior Advisor to the President and Assistant to the President for the Office of Public Engagement and Intergovernmental Affairs).

It concluded with the emotional discussion on grief by Shriver, Elizabeth Edwards, Susan St. James and surprise guest Lisa Niemi. Sandwiched between those two powerhouse panels was Katie Couric, who broke the ice by announcing "I love the smell of estrogen in the afternoon," followed by a joke:

She continued to charm the audience with tales of her early days as a newscaster:

Couric did not use the "P" word (you know, perky) to describe herself, but did admit that she's one of those positive people who is "hot-wired for happiness." Her husband told her that she was "born on a sunny day."

Couric got through trials in her career through hard work and sheer determination, and never doubted her talent or abilities and she succeeded. But there are times when that's not enough - which she learned the hard way, when her husband Jay Monahan was diagnosed with cancer:

"His nine month battle with cancer was a hellish journey," Couric said.

She remembered how she continued to work every day, chatting up guests about their latest books or movies… "but a piece of me was dying too," she said. "Putting on the happy morning face most the excruciating challenge I ever faced."

She said she learned the language of cancer, frantically calling medical schools, pharmaceutical companies, anyone she could think of to find a magic bullet. She never found it. Her husband collapsed in the bathroom on a January day and died on his way to the hospital.

She mourned. Her grief lasted a long time. But eventually, she had an epiphany, inspired by a quote from Thomas Jefferson: The earth is for the living.

"That gave me solace and permission to seek joy and choose happiness," she said.

Four years later, Couric lost her sister Emily to pancreatic cancer at age 54.

"Clearly, the sunny day I was born on, didn’t stay sunny forever – but they never do," she said."My life was on a journey of loss and disappointment, but also amazing joy and incredible discoveries and unparalleled opportunities. And here we all are."

Original post for Los Angeles Moms Blog by Donna Schwartz Mills.

This post is sponsored by Lean Cuisine.

The Deal with School Selection

When I was a kid, going to school was easy. You lived in a neighborhood and you went to a school you could walk to, and parents could be reasonably sure that their kids were learning what they needed to know in a safe, secure place.

That gives you an idea of how old I am. Those days are long gone. Safety and security are no longer a given, and neither is the idea that your kid is going to be in the right learning environment.

But hey - at least now, we have choices. All the kids in all the schools are tested and scores are published. If your neighborhood school isn't up to par, you have the option of going elsewhere. You can pick a magnet school, a charter school, a "school for advanced studies" - and that's just within the public system! You can also go private, or home school your kids yourself.

You would think that having all those options would put my mind at ease -- but instead, it just adds new levels of pressure. It's like "Let's Make a Deal" - who's to say that the prize behind door #1 isn't better than what you got behind door #2?

Saturn RIP

I was saddened yesterday to learn that the deal General Motors struck with the Penske group to save their Saturn brand had fallen through, and so now will be phased out.

The first thing I did when I found out I was pregnant 14 years ago was tell my family.

The second thing I did was shop for a new car to replace the 11-year-old clunker I'd been driving. As we live in Los Angeles, we spend a lot of time in our vehicles, and I wanted my baby to be safe.

I couldn't afford my first choice Volvo, which has always enjoyed a reputation for safety... but as it turned out, the next best thing wasin my price range: a 1996 Saturn SL1.

Safety was not the only thing I found appealing about Saturn: I loved the fact that shopping for one was as simple as buying a department store dress. The price on the sticker was the price you paid (what a concept!); no one ever asked you "What would it take to sell you this car today?"

I loved my Saturn's polymer body, which resisted dents so well that a decade later, the car still looked new. I loved the fact that maintenance on the vehicle was simple and cheap. I especially loved meeting other owners, one of whom was a tow-truck operator who purchased his Saturn after seeing how well they fared in crashes. 

What's So Scary About Socialized Medicine?

 My husband emigrated to the U.S. from Wales about 25 years ago. He loves just about everything about his adopted country -

- but one thing he's never been able to get used to is our health "system," and I can't blame him. Health care is something he never had to worry about in the United Kingdom, thanks to that country's National Health Service.

I've visited the U.K. about a dozen times and have seen the NHS in action. On my first ever trip, BOTH of my husband's parents ended up being hospitalized (for different ailments), and as my late father-in-law fought heart disease and stroke for several years before he passed away, I got quite a tour of his city's hospitals on subsequent visits.

On one UK vacation, my young daughter (who was then prone to ear infections) came down with a fever. We walked in to the neighborhood surgery (the term for the offices of the system's primary care doctors). A doctor saw us right away, confirmed her infection and wrote us a prescription for an antibiotic. They did not care that Megan was American. My husband was prepared to show them proof of his British t's citizenship, but they did not ask. I had my wallet out to pay for the visit, but they told me to put it away. That's not how the office is set up.