It's Christmas 2010

Wow - 2010 sure went quickly! It's Christmas again, and once again, you'll find no holiday greeting cards in your mail box from us. Sure, they pretend to be your friends. But yet again, the Christmas card isn't there.

Did you offend, maybe? NAH, just call us Procrastinators. Christmas cards have gone the way of Netscape, actually. As we are now in the age of Twitter and Facebook, don't expect cards anytime soon. We're going virtual and providing you with instant gratification!

So what have we been up to this year? Just check out pictures here. If you're not my friend yet, then too bad ;-)

So - leave it to the Procrastinators to leave our Christmas greetings til the very last minute.
And here's how we feel about the very wet days that led up to Christmas this year:

Other than the mudslides, we didn't really want for anything this year.

News about the kiddos:
This year marked the only year that Sophie, Audrey and Garrett are in the same school. Sophie's in 5th grade, Audrey's in 4th and Garrett's in Kindergarten.

Garrett has been having a tough time adjusting behaviorally - he is a product of his genes after all ;-). But he's 5. Academically, he's brilliant! He's decided that he'll be a hip-hop dancer when he grows up. He wants to be Mike Chang on Glee.

Audrey signed with Eclipse this year and has been playing excellent defense for their U9 team. She's really bonded with her teammates and absolutely loves soccer. Her writing skills have improved tremendously with her 4th grade teacher. Along with Sophie, she's been taking Art classes as well and her talents have become quite evident. She's also taken up the violin. We have not been invited to listen to her yet, so who knows how she's really doing...

Sophie is still an academically gifted child, who's mature beyond her years. She is growing up to be such a pleasant young lady. Art class has been quite an eye-opener for her. At first, she didn't want any formal instruction that may "taint her natural talent". Such hubris! But, it has really honed her skills. She's still playing the viola and has come a long way from last year.

Both Sophie and Audrey had their first communion this year. What an accomplishment!

And what about the couple?
This year, we celebrated our 13th anniversary. This is our 15th Christmas together. Who'd have thunk!

We celebrated this year with tons of concerts, from Muse, Train, Kings of Leon, to Glee. We went to Vegas twice (and are quite sick of it now). We did little trips this year with the kiddos as we recover from the fallout of 2009's recession. We're still both employed, doing what we like to do best.

A few more wrinkles line our faces. A few more grays lighten up our hair. We have a blessed life with wonderful loved ones surrounding us. We are thankful to our almighty for every challenge that has come our way that has served to make us stronger.

We wish you and your families a very Happy Holiday Season!

Internal Struggles of a Working Parent

This little composition was written 3 years ago...

“Sophie, take a picture of my armpits!” screamed Audrey, my 5 year old to her older sister who had been designated as the family historian for the day, as we sat in traffic on the 91 freeway on the way to a baseball game. Garrett, my 2 year old, is shaking his head to the music on the car radio. Sophie obliges Audrey as John and I laugh hysterically. I think to myself, it’s moments like this that I remember why I signed up as a Mom.

As I let Audrey’ ludicrous exclamation sink in, I wonder how many of the ridiculous moments of my children’s lives I miss throughout the day as I sit in meetings or write up documents. Then I wonder how many other Moms out there ask themselves the same question. Ok, let’s not be gender specific. How many other parents out there ask themselves the same question?

Rigor is operative word in order to be a working parent. Endless loops of bulleted list that swim in my head characterize my day. Here’s how it goes:

For x = 1 to N
• Wake up at 6 and get ready for work
• Get the kids up and ready for school
• Leave and get to work by 8 at the latest
• Spend the day at work and actually get work done
• Make any doctor appointments, play dates, dental appointments
• Pick up the kids from school
• Take the kids to whatever activity they happen to have for the day
• Get home, make dinner and help the kids with homework
• Get the kids bathed and ready for bed
• Make the kids’ lunches for the next day
• Get some additional work done
• Go to sleep eventually
Next x, where N = no end in sight; x is measured in day increments

This is just not a glamorous list, is it? Why can’t I simply join the ranks of content housewives that spend their days trekking their kids from one activity to another? These Moms seem to have it made - they get to spend time with their kids.

But are they really content? Catch phrases have come and gone to characterize this internal struggle parents go through. Quality Time. Active Parenting. Just to name a few.

I personally find contentment in knowing I exercised both the right and left sides of my brain during the day. I guess contentment for me boils down to a burning desire to keep learning. To constantly ask questions and strive to get the answers to them. To negotiate with adults about keeping solutions within scope and not just negotiating with kids about which Strawberry Shortcake DVD they get to watch if they’re good. To know that my identity is not just wrapped up in being a Mom.

So what damage am I inflicting on my children when they see me running from one task to another, most of the time in parallel mode? How does this guilt impact my level of engagement at work and the work products I produce?

I’d like to think that this guilt has made me a more efficient worker. That I am able cut to the chase and produce what needs to be done in the time I have available. That I am not going to waste anybody else time because I know that other people’s time is just as valuable as my own.

I’d like to think that my children learn what good work ethic is about. That nobody is simply entitled to anything. They see enough of the perceived affluence in Orange County and the sense of entitlement that huge portions of its population adopt as an attitude. One of my neighbors was featured on “The Real Housewives of O.C.” – and I can’t help but judge them. I never want my kids to end up like their kids.

I actually love the fact that my kids see me go to work. I know that they understand that the work that I do is partially responsible providing them with shelter, food, and clothing. I know that they understand that the time I do spend with them is valuable to me.

So I treasure moments when one of my kids says something completely out of the ordinary. Or when they beat me at UNO fair and square. Or when one of them gives me an unsolicited bear hug and tells me that they love me.

So I treasure the moments when I raise a point in a meeting that nobody’s considered. Or when I learn what GAL means. Or when I fall flat on my face during a discussion and walk away knowing I just learned something.

Facebook and the Loss of Mystery

AND NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT...

So I spend most of my workday with multiple browser tabs and applications open. After all, I now monitor at least 7 different sources of communication (Client Email, Work Email, Gmail, Yahoo Mail, IM, Communicator, Facebook) just on my PC. Inevitably, as my mind draws a blank in the middle of actual work, though, I gravitate towards Facebook to clear my thoughts of anything significant and possibly draw inspiration to get back to work. Somehow, this gateway to status updates has woven its way into the fabric of my being.

How did this happen???? FB is for the mundane. There is that rare moment where some friend actually posts something profound and triggers neurons to fire. I find that I live for those moments where I can give a thumbs up or second a comment somebody posted. That just sounds so wrong! I am now passively waiting for something to latch my opinions against. As if I wasn’t capable of an original thought. Is that really what I am about? But then it hits me – I purposely attach my thoughts against others because by initiating my own, I somehow open myself up to becoming vulnerable. I somehow become party to the loss of mystery that I am now lamenting.

When I first joined FB, I was so excited about the idea of finding long lost friends. I actively sought out friends. Since I go by a pseudonym on FB, I always initiate the call to “friendship”. I collected friends quickly. My first few weeks on FB, friends posted something of perceived value to me. Maybe it’s because most of the folks I “friended” were people that I hadn’t kept in touch with for years and even decades, it was exciting to find out where life took them. But I soon remembered why I didn’t keep in touch. Don’t get me wrong, I love playing voyeur. I scan photos posted by friends. I actually took time to read status updates at one point. But some folks are just plain boring!

I really don’t need a play by play of somebody’s trip to Costco. I also don’t need to know what city a person should be living in. Please – it’s just noise to me! Most of all, I don’t need any hugs and smiles and invitations to causes. Folks – do me a favor, keep a little to yourself.
With the advent of affordable mobile devices, more and more people are posting on FB as events unfold. Although this is such a technical leap, it does get in the way of actual personal interaction. I’ve caught myself on the phone with somebody discussing their recent postings. It’s almost an excuse not to actually have any personal interaction anymore since all I need to do is login into FB to catch up on their lives.

Just a month ago, I attended a 3 day reunion Although it was a blast, I was saddened by the fact that I couldn’t pull my husband aside and whisper, “Man, time has not been kind to that person!” I already saw the degradation play by play and photo by photo on FB.

Oh and I am a hypocrite, btw. I am such an open book. Don’t believe me? Check out my wall

Call the Troops - A Mosquito Bit Me

A Lesson in Perspective

First - A Background into the Bliss Social Order.
Bliss' local residents fall into 2 categories, the Bloodsuckers and the Enablers. The Enablers are known for left-brain thinking. The Bloodsuckers are known simply for their awesome whining abilities. Goateed Sage is one of the head Enablers. He shares top billing with Strawberry Wisdom. Together they try to stifle the whining sound - installing barriers and experimenting with Pavlovian techniques. The barriers and Pavlovian techniques are not foolproof. The Oracle Shroom Eater, a native of the female persuasion, was recently installed as the primary defense against the Bloodsuckers' whining. Although primarily a left-brainer who flirts with rationality, she sometimes gets sucked into the powerful vortex the Bloodsuckers creates with their combined whining.

The Migrants, having a different tongue and slightly incompatible earwax chemistry from the natives, were usually insulated from the whining. Empress Manly, being a migrant with a natural gift for languages and blessed with a genetic mutation that generates greasier earwax, has been called upon occasion to translate the whining to the migrants so that they can appease the Bloodsuckers.

The Migrants and Enablers had been hard at work creating tools to help replace old structures in Bliss - tools that help natives build scaffolding, tents, sandboxes and other whatchamacallits that Bloodsuckers create from 9 to 5. Bloodsuckers operate using different blood types, each blood type requires different structures. Some tents have gables. Some have accompanying canopies. Most have automated screens that prevent Mosquitoes from getting in.

You see, Mosquitoes are the highest order organisms at Bliss. Migrants, Enablers and Bloodsuckers all work together to serve Mosquitoes. But Bloodsuckers have a serious love-hate relationship with Mosquitoes. Sometimes Bloodsuckers forget that servicing Mosquitoes is the primary directive for the Enablers and Migrants. They, being the Bloodsuckers, usually do the whining for the Mosquitoes because, as everybody know, Mosquitoes don't have the proper biological instruments to actually whine. That's all good. The problem happens when Bloodsuckers whine for the sake of whining.

You still with me???? If not, here's the picture:



The Bliss Seasons
Now that you've been fully indoctrinated on who's the real boss at Bliss, it's time to talk seasons. Mosquitoes and their migratory patterns control Bliss' culture. Migratory patterns are by-products of actual seasons.

Monsoon Season
Unlike the physical world's monsoon season, in the virtual world of Bliss, monsoon season is characterized by mosquitoes swarming to get into a crowded tent. Access to the tent is controlled by a mosquito's uncanny ability to dance and buzz at the same time into the secret priority holes that open up after the mosquito performs a complex choreography.
Construction Season
Tents are temporary structures. Bloodsuckers have to constantly dismantle and rebuild tents. Construction Season marks the various times in a year that specific Bloodsuckers build tents. Not all Bloodsuckers are directly involved during the construction season. Some Bloodsuckers are simply there to oversee construction. Other Bloodsuckers are just backseat drivers.

Alvin Ailey Season
The Construction Season occurs almost alongside the Alvin Ailey Season. This season describes the time that Bloodsuckers take to choreograph each dance necessary for a mosquito to get into a specific tent.

Enablers and Migrants take great pains to focus their attention to matters important to the upcoming season. They do what they can to prepare for the next swarm, gathering as many blood donors as they can to feed the mosquitoes. Blood donors are prepped and sent to appropriate tents to serve their masters.

Call the Troops - A Mosquito Bit Me
Migrants and Enablers were in a groove. Every now and then, Oracle Shroom Eater reported higher-levels of whining from the Bloodsuckers. Whining usually fell into the following mold:

"My fangs aren't sharp enough to suck blood. Can you please give me tools to sharpen them?" "Help! The tents I'm building keep lilting left for some reason."

"I don't like the color of my tent frames."

"I think I'm going color-blind, all the blood I see for mosquito feeding is green."

Migrants would often do what they can to resolve the source of the whining - so long as the root cause were real problems. Sometimes finding the root cause required the use of huge suction devices - Bloodsuckers were not known for being able to articulate real problems. They were amazingly good at whining about the symptoms, however. The moon, stars and coconut trees were in alignment one week. Goateed Sage and Empress Manly were on separate kayaking tours and could not be bothered with Bliss. Bloodsuckers saw a moment of perceived weakness and called a sacrificial council in order with Strawberry Wisdom and Oracle Shroom Eater as the lambs. Both Enablers walked into the council with targets on their foreheads. They were pelted with whines.

"ARRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!! The tools the Migrants built must really be Pinto quality rather than Bentleys." Oracle Shroom Eater thinks just coz she's easily swayed by angry mobs. Strawberry Wisdom meditates during the pelting and removes his mind from his corporeal manifestation. His defense mechanism works. Floating above, he gives rabbit ears to each Bloodsucker in the room, all the while his physical self is smiling and nodding its head as if in agreement to all the whining. Coming out of the council, Oracle Shroom Eater and Strawberry Wisdom call all the Migrants into a War Room. Here's the edict: We need to fix the most urgent matter according to the Bloodsuckers,

"A mosquito bit me. Now I have an itch."

Speed Bump says, "But mosquitoes are supposed to bite them. That functions as designed."

Sir Code A Lot adds, "We weren't asked to prepare repellants. Plus, aren't Bloodsuckers supposed to be bitten? I mean, that's how they learn about Mosquitoes' behavior and become Bloodsuckers themselves."

Blue says, "You're too logical, Sir Code A Lot. Bloodsuckers only flirt with logic. They're all teases."

Oracle Shroom Eater chases her tail around the room as all this discussion goes on. Then she issues the command, "Fix the itch, NOW!"

The Legend quietly suggests, "Can't Bloodsuckers scratch their own itch?"

Speed Bump looks around the room and states, "By the way, there is a recall on the seaweed we used to strengthen the tents against huge swarms of mosquitoes coming in at the same time. If we don't fortify the scaffolding of the existing tents, the expected swarms will bring tents down."

Oracle Shroom Eater remembers the Bloodsucker whining - rendered in decibels above legal safety standards, chases her tail around the room again. Then she issues the command, "Fix the itch, NOW!"

All the migrants drop what they're doing, gather sharpening devices and individally work on building effective itch scratchers. They all realize they need to project the image of itch-resolving migrants. In the meantime, swarms are building up and the first wave will hit the weakest tent soon enough.

Speed Bump yells, "They're coming!!!!!!"
Oracle Shroom Eater yells, "I'm meeting with the Bloodsuckers in a few minutes. Give me all your itch-scratchers!"

Itch scratched. Tents fall. Mosquitoes can't get into tents. Problem solved :-)
Right.

A Lesson on Vulnerability

In last week's episode, the island of Bliss that Empress Manly currently inhabits was visited by he with the giant title - Gigantor. Wheeee - fresh mincemeat for its natives and immigrants! It had been quite a while since Bliss had seen a new face. It's about time they got fresh blood in. Stroies being told were getting quite stale. Folks were sick of the wondeful complacency that had settled in on the island. The immigrants especially thrived on new challenges - they constantly needed to exercise their cerebral cortex. The collective surface area on their volumonious brains weren't increasing at the rate they needed to fight off their arch-enemy, BOREDOM!

The Welcome. Gigantor jumped the ferry, lifted up his pants a bit, so that only his feet up to his ankles got wet, and landed on the island's shores. "Hi, I'm Gigantor. Nice to meet you. I'm here on a tourist VISA," he says as a standard meeting to the island natives. Empress Manly, his tour guide during his duration at the island, directs him to his temporary abode. Along the way, he spots some of his fellow migrants. High fives and nods all around as he navigates his way thru the throng of migrants he's known from other trips.

Gigantor settles in. He puts on his "I'm a professional" hate and proceeds with his technical dance. It's the equivalent of a short program that he's gone thru numerous times. He does his spins and jumps according to plan. He talks to the natives and they are duly impressed. "Empress Manyly brought in one of the great migrants," they think. Gigantor gets comfortable - well maybe not too comfortable since his legs are too long to fit the standard island attire. Not a lot of surprises agead of him. Little did he know he was in for a ride.

Day 2 hits. Genghis Khan, a chain-smoking, fun-loving SQL genius steps away from his cave, needing a quick ciggy. He forgets to lock up his carrier pigeon. Korean Brad Pitt (or The Poet, as he is klnown to the natives) gets into his mischievous groove and lets Genghis' pigeon out with the following message for Gigantor:

"Hey, I'd really like to get to know you better. Would you fancy some coffee at my place later this evening? I have cream and sugar."

Gigantor sees the pigeon at this desk and proceeds to read the message. "Hmmmm, awkward moment here... I like Genghis. We shoot arrows together. How do I turn him down gently? They didn't teach this during my Island Orientation," thinks Gigantor. "K, I need to craft a politically correct response." At that thought, Gigantor sends the pigeon back to Genghis with the following note:

"Sorry dude. No can do. I'm not a coffee drinker."

Genghis gets the pigeon and message back. He scratches his head, looks around at all the migrants - currently in their own versions of "I'm working really hard" mode. He sneaks a glance at Iceman and decides Iceman is too much of a bro to do something that inane. Plus Iceman knows Genghis will refuse to do any of his delegated work if he so chooses. Maybe "The Legend" did it? After all, "The Legent" is a notorious evil genius full of nefarious schemes. Just as Genghis convinvec himself that "The Legend" did it, he hears a 12 year old girl's giggle. Of course, it's The Poet. He hasn't received much attention lately so he's up to his shenanigans again.

Genghis drags The Poet by the neck (this byt the way is no small feat as Genghis is about 6 inches shorter than The Poet) to where Gigantor is sitting. "Apologize, dude! You are to catch, gut and cook my fish for a year for that offense," Genghis roars at The Poet. Groups hus all around, except for Gigantor who's freakishly tall - for whom hugs would just be rendered completely inappropriate.

While the hugs are being given, The Legen sneaks in, and plants a note on Gigantor's coconut tree.

"COME SEE ME, ASAP! - SPEED BUMP"

Gigantor's thirsty - big guys need to drink more. He walks to his coconut tree and sees the note. "I don't remember meeitng Speed Bump. I wonder who he is..." He scans the area. He pretty much knows all the migrants except for one Chicken-Little looking bump. "That must be Speed Bump!" Gigantor introduces hiumself and asks, "You wanted to talk to me?" Speed Bump extends his neck to look up at Gigantor. "Eh?" he says. Gigantor shows Speed Bump the note. Speed Bump jumps up and hollers, "Legend, you're at it again?" He looks at Gigantor and says sincerely,

"Dude, you've been punked!"

"So, this is how it rolls here at Bliss," thinks Gigantor. "Well, I'll show them...."

Day 3. The Poet is already sitting on his rock. Migrants slowly trickly into Bliss. Gigantor stomps in the door. He puffs up his chest as he expounds in his tenor voice,

"Soooo, about that rash you asked me, Poet? I think you really need to see the witch doctor about it."

The tribal area is quiet. Natives and migrants look up. They see Gigantor snickering. "Aaaah, I get it, " they all think to themselves. Laughter ensures. Gigantor thinks he's aquired a few more testosterone points. "Look who's the fool now. We are even," he thinks.

But we know better. The fun has just begun.

Lights turn off at Bliss. "Not another idiot student playing with the grid", the natives and migrants think. UPS's are beeping. Tech Support Native comes into the area and checks on Gigantor's primary vocal communication device (aka, pmvc - which Alexander Graham Bell invented earlier in the century).

Meanwhile, The Legend's acquired quite a number of sound wave producing annoyance toys that he's dying to test. Gigantor has provided The Legend with an excellent guinea pig. He pulls Empress Manly aside and says, "I know this is going to bug you too because you share the same area as Gigantor, but you gotta let me plant some toys in your area." Empress Manly, ever the joiner, says "Sure. But you've got to let me play too." The Legend hands her a toy and says, "It's already on." The Legend then proceeds to plant his devices in strategic locations. Empress Manly plants one next to the pmvc. Eye of Mordor hears all the activity and wants in on the fun. He has his own device to plant. Periodic chuckles can be heard.

Gigantor goes back to his area. Empress Manly looks at him and asks, "Do you heat that high frequency beep?" Gigantor closes his eyes as it to listen intently. He nods his head and says with conviction,

"It must be one of these computing devices."

"Are you sure it's not one of the the UPS's, Empress Manly queries. Gigantor shrugs. Empress Manly walks out to catch a fish.

Empress Manly gets back to her area. Giangator whispers to her, "Hey - the pmvc is talking to me. Every 10 minutes or so, it whispers:

"Can you hear me?"

and then I hear the beep. I think Tech Support Native did something." Empress Manly tries to contain her laughter as she says with a straight face, "Hmmmm, have you seen a doctor about your hearing problem?" She then proceeds to do what empresses do when they are at Bliss. Every now and then, she hears all the devices as they go thru their cycle. Gigantor steps out of the area and she turns off the talking device. Gigantor walks back in as she's using the pmvc. After she's done with the pmvc, she turns to Gigantor and says, "I haven't heard anything in a while." He counters, "Well, you've been using the pmvc!" - yeah I know I'm smart, he's thinking.

Day 3 and Day 4 proceed with a cacophany of annoying sounds. All the migrants are in on the joke. Gigantor continues to do his thing - hammering out brilliant work. He tries to defeat Sir Code A Lot's cupcake eating record but fails miserably. He tries to get his system back to normal. The Legend and Eye of Mordor walk into Gigantor's area and leisurely grabs the devices in full view of Giganto. They turn off the devices. They leave the room. Gigantor is baffled. "What just happened?" All is quiet. Wait - the sounds are gone...

The migrants walk into Gigantor's area and in unison say. "Welcome to Bliss, Gigantor! You are now one with us!" Back-slapping and happy-dances are performed. Gigantor grins as only giants do. He knew having long legs made him vulnerable to attackes from below. But he didn't count on attacks on his psyche. He thinks, "I must have passed the test. I guess this means the migrants know their limits and I can trust them to call themselves out." The migrants think, "Gigantor's cool and really tall. He's also shown himself to be willing to be vulnerable. We can throw things at him, and he won't take it personally. He can also dish it out and mot maliciously at that. We can definitely work well with him."

Empress Manly proceeds to tell the entire tale to the Goateed Sage.

"Goateed Sage, there's a wonderful management lesson in all this, you know!"

Goateed Sage looks at Empress Manly and says, "What have you been smoling today?

Have you considered the fact that you're over-thinking this? They're fraternity migrants. It's in their DNA to do idiotic things."

Empress Manly starts a bonfire and looks for other inspirations for brilliant insight...